Gospel Story Finder

We had barely arrived in our motel room when the phone rang. I knew it would be bad news about Jodi, my nine-month-old sister. She had been in a coma since birth and required round-the-clock monitoring and special tubal feedings. We had left Jodi temporarily at a care center so our family could take a much-needed vacation.
I answered the phone. My grandpa was on the line. His voice was firm: “Get your dad.”
Their conversation ended quickly. My fears were confirmed. Jodi had died.
The next day, after we had arrived home, I breathed a sigh of relief. The school bus was at the top of the street. My friends would be coming. At last I would have somebody my own age to share my pain.
However, as I stood in my driveway waiting for my friends, something strange happened. It was almost as if I had become invisible. I watched as my friends crossed to the other side of the street and continued talking with one another. They didn’t even look at me.
The next morning my friends didn’t pick me up as they usually did. “That’s understandable,” I thought. They probably knew I wasn’t going to school because of funeral planning. But they didn’t come the next day or the next or the next. They didn’t wait for me after school either.
During this time my family received lots of support from the Relief Society and other ward members. However, chicken casserole did little to soothe my 13-year-old aching heart. When I returned to Mutual, my adviser gave a lesson on life after death. I started crying. My adviser looked down and continued reading. My classmates stared ahead. I sobbed. How I wished somebody would have cried with me or put her arms around me.
Looking back on these events, I realize that my friends were not cruel and uncaring. They just didn’t know how to respond to my pain. They assumed that I wanted to be left alone to grieve and, since I was in mourning, I would not want to do anything fun.

I believed the prophet Malachi when he said that the Lord pours out blessings to those who pay tithing (see Mal. 3:10). I had no problem believing that. But when it came to actually paying tithing, I had trouble.
On payday I would set aside money for tithing. However, payday often came in the middle of the week, and when I needed money later on I would “borrow” back money from my tithing. I told myself I would replace the money and give my tithing to the bishop on Sunday, but usually I was unable to return the money. So I would plan to pay the tithing I owed from my next paycheck. I tried to do this, but then very little would be left of my paycheck! Things went on like this for the first year I earned my own income.
Then one day I had a realization. A sales representative came to our house. He explained that I could pay for an appliance on an installment plan—receiving the item now and paying for it later. As he spoke, a question entered my mind: “Does the Lord give blessings on an installment plan?”
The next day in my institute class, the very first verse of scripture we discussed answered my question: “I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say; but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise” (D&C 82:10).
Every commandment brings blessings—and always in full. But we must keep the commandment, not just plan to keep it. That night I prayed for forgiveness for paying my tithes in such a lazy manner.
Now that I am paying my tithing faithfully, I have found that I am happier living on 90 percent of my income with the Lord’s blessings than I ever was living on 100 percent of my income without them.

Some years ago our family encountered a major challenge. I went to the temple and there prayed earnestly for help. I was given a moment of truth. I received a clear impression of my weaknesses, and I was shocked. In that spiritually instructive moment, I saw a prideful woman doing things her own way, not necessarily the Lord’s way, and privately taking credit for any so-called accomplishment. I knew I was looking at myself. I cried out in my heart to Heavenly Father and said, “I don’t want to be that woman, but how do I change?”

Through the pure spirit of revelation in the temple, I was taught of my utter need for a Redeemer. I turned immediately to the Savior Jesus Christ in my thoughts and felt my anguish melt away and a great hope spring up in my heart. He was my only hope, and I longed to cling only to Him. It was clear to me that a self-absorbed natural woman “is an enemy to God”7 and to people in her sphere of influence. In the temple that day I learned it was only through the Atonement of Jesus Christ that my prideful nature could change and that I would be enabled to do good. I felt His love keenly, and I knew He would teach me by the Spirit and change me if I gave my heart to Him, holding back nothing.

I still fight my weaknesses, but I trust in the divine help of the Atonement. This pure instruction came because I entered the holy temple, seeking relief and answers. I entered the temple burdened, and I left knowing I had an all-powerful and all-loving Savior. I was lighter and joyful because I had received His light and accepted His plan for me.

As a kid, I didn’t have very many good interactions with girls. I always thought they represented the “opposite.” When I moved, I struggled because there were more girls in my new ward than there were in my old ward. I didn’t know how to talk to them.
Still, a girl in the ward was one of the first people to welcome me. We ended up becoming close friends. One day, I gave her a gift, but I didn’t know if she would like it. She misunderstood the present and thought I was romantically interested in her. As a result, we didn’t talk for six months.
It was tough because I really wanted to be friends with her. I was scared to apologize incorrectly and possibly make things worse. But I missed her friendship and felt awful that I’d made her feel bad. Before this, I’d always found praying kind of tedious, but I started praying constantly to the Lord for help.
One day while reading the scriptures, I came across Mosiah 18:9, which says we should “comfort those that stand in need of comfort.” I realized that I needed not only to apologize but also to try to comfort her and show more interest in our friendship. Doing things my way wasn’t working. I needed more compassion and humility.
The Lord provided the right moment for me to apologize. I went with my mother to take my siblings to a stake Primary activity, and I found my friend there with her family. I asked the Lord to help and inspire me so I could talk to her, and I was able to apologize.
Today, we’re great friends. We joke a lot, set goals together, and consider ourselves like siblings. Liking someone doesn’t always mean being in love with them. Sometimes, you just appreciate their good qualities and enjoy being with them.
I know the Lord helped me, because if it were up to me, I wouldn’t have succeeded. I might have spoken differently or exaggerated my apologies, and it wouldn’t have worked out. I needed someone more than myself.
That’s where asking God comes in. Many times, I don’t ask for help and try to do everything on my own. But we’re not alone, right? We always have God by our side.
God blesses me, not always with what I want, but always with what I need. During the six months my friend and I weren’t talking, I needed to learn how to receive personal revelation and listen to the Holy Ghost. Now I find it easy to pray, because I enjoy conversing with my Heavenly Father.

It was the same with the Haraga family, who came to the Hamilton Temple in April 2024. The parents received their endowment and were sealed to each other, and their daughter, Barbara, was sealed to them. Brother Haraga was also sealed to his deceased parents.

Brother Haraga was the first in his family to embrace the restored gospel when he was baptized in 2011. His wife and daughters joined him in 2015.

The Haraga family’s greatest desire was to attend the temple together to become an eternal family. Their dream became a reality in April 2024 when they entered the Hamilton Temple to be endowed and sealed. Faith in Jesus Christ led them to receive ordinances and make covenants in the house of the Lord.

If you have a smartphone, tablet, or laptop with you, please google something; look up “John F. Kennedy Honolulu 1963." Hopefully within seconds you will see images of our 35 th president when he visited the island of Oahu to address the Conference of Mayors. He was there to urge the mayors to help pass legislation that would guarantee black Americans equal rights.
On June 8 th of that year, his plane touched down a little after 9 p.m. local time. President Kennedy spoke to the crowd assembled on the tarmac and commended the people of Hawaii for being a great example of how persons of differing races, cultures, and religions could live together so peacefully and prosperously.
After finishing his brief remarks at the podium, he moved forward to the people behind the restraining fence. He started shaking hands with anyone he could reach over the fence. I maneuvered my body forward into tight spaces between people, jumping up and down several times to see how close he was getting to where I was positioned in the crowd. Suddenly, the man behind me grabbed me and hoisted me high over his head onto his shoulders. Instantly I was shaking hands with the president of the United States. I was shocked, excited, surprised, elated, and terrified.
Five minutes later, President Kennedy drove off in the same 1961 Lincoln convertible that carried him to his death in Dallas five months later. I must admit to you that being asked to share a devotional address has brought some of those exact same emotions to me: shock, excitement, surprise, happiness, and terror. I welcome them all.

After high school, like many freshmen, I was overwhelmed by my college courses and the challenges of simultaneously living away from home but also with five roommates.

This was when I learned to understand the strengthening and enabling power of Christ’s grace. I spent my days working and studying, but I depended on daily prayers in which I pled to Heavenly Father for the ability to complete the necessary tasks. As the school year continued, I discovered to my joy that with the strengthening and enabling power of Christ’s Atonement, I could function not only well but without difficulty.

Ten years earlier, I had been this sister’s visiting teacher. Back then, I was baking bread one day and felt that I should give a loaf to her. But when I drove to her house, I noticed an unfamiliar car in her driveway. I thought she must have company, and I didn’t want to intrude. So, I turned around and went home.
Half an hour later, the Relief Society president called to ask if I could go to this sister’s house and watch her children. She was in the hospital, and her mother had come to stay with the children but was eager to be with her daughter. I hurried over but felt ashamed that I had not followed the earlier prompting. Since that day, I had tried my best to follow promptings from the Spirit, but this experience still haunted me.
I am grateful I reconnected with this dear sister. That day, not only did Heavenly Father answer the prayers my family had offered to find a family to serve, but He also blessed me with an opportunity to forgive myself for a previous mistake. I had not expected this gift, but it’s one I’ll never forget.

“Meet you at the graveyard.” That was the byword for the Pleasant Hill First Ward Young Men and Young Women, Walnut Creek California Stake, for their super service project. They met at the cemetery in Martinez, California, carrying rakes, hoes, and shovels that were put to good use during the next few hours. Some of the older volunteers started cataloguing the graves, too, to help with the genealogical records for the graveyard. The cemetery was the only one in the county during 1850 through 1870, so many of the pioneers who settled that part of the San Francisco Bay Area are buried there. Despite the rain, the group of 35 volunteers transformed the badly neglected cemetery into an orderly, well-cared-for place.

This is not your basic story of a super-achieving LDS family where everyone gets straight A pluses, wins international symphony competitions, trains for the Olympics, and trudges ten miles through the snow to get to seminary every morning. No. This is the story of a family that simply steps up to the plate and swings, regardless of the challenges they face.
Challenges don’t intimidate the Drummonds. They never have. When Heather decided she wanted to go out for baseball, she didn’t think twice about the fact that there are no girls’ teams in her area. Today the petite 15-year-old with long dark hair and bangs is the only girl playing on boys’ teams in her league, and she’s doing pretty well.
Then there’s tall, thin, 17-year-old Christopher. He didn’t let the fact that millions of boys all over the country dream of being a batboy for a professional baseball team stop him. He went right up to the personnel office of the California Angels, applied, and landed the position. It wasn’t half as difficult as he thought it would be.
Heather and Christopher take their cue from their father, Tom Drummond, who, when he got custody of his two children over 12 years ago, decided he would be the best parent he could be, with or without the support of a wife. And later, when he was introduced to the Church, he decided to take on the challenges and blessings of membership and hopefully share them with his children.
Heather was the first one to follow his lead. “I took the discussions and started going to church with my dad,” she said. “I knew some of the girls at church who played on my soccer team, and they were really nice. Everybody seemed really nice there, and joining the Church just seemed like the right thing to do.”
Christopher took a little longer. “A couple of sets of missionaries taught me, and I just didn’t know about it. But then one came along who helped me see everything was right in the Church. He talked baseball, and he showed me things in the scriptures too, and I knew. Then my dad baptized me.”
By now, it would be impossible not to note that sports, baseball in particular, play a big part in the Drummonds’ lives. Heather and Christopher have both been playing since they were about three years old, and since they live in southern California, they’re able to play in leagues all year round. Tom, a self-employed architect, makes it to almost every single game.
Baseball has formed a strong bond in their lives, even though Christopher takes some flak because his sister is the only girl playing on a boys’ team in their league—“You better watch out, Christopher. Your little sister’s gonna take your place!” And Heather says she doesn’t see a lot of her brother because he’s usually either working at Anaheim stadium or playing ball. Baseball is still a common interest that ties the family together, when they could be going in some very different directions.
When the gospel came into their lives about four years ago, it brought an even stronger bond. There’s a lot more to share now than box scores and batting averages. They share prayer, church meetings, scriptures, and a concept of the eternal unit their family is. “We have family home evening,” says Christopher. “I really like that. We talk or read or play games. Sometimes we go out to dinner or a movie or over to another family’s house. That’s a really good thing.”
The Drummonds are not the most outspoken kids in the world. They’re doers rather than talkers. But they will open up if you ask. Heather, for example, will tell you that she doesn’t feel short-changed by not growing up with a mother. “I’ve lived with guys all my life, so I do the things they do,” she says. “But I also do girl things. My best friends are girls. I don’t think growing up only with guys has hurt me.” Heather has her own ways of asserting her femininity. In the dugout, for example, even though she tucks her long brown hair up under her cap and wears a bulky uniform like the rest of the players, you can’t miss her because she’s the one wearing pink lipstick. And sometimes, when the other players lose their tempers and start swearing, they’re quickly reminded that a girl is present when Heather tells them, “Hey—watch your language!” And, she says, “They usually apologize.”
“Some of the guys I play with are kind of mean,” says Heather. “They say the only reason I’m on the team is because the coach doesn’t know how to cut a girl. I have to play extra hard to overcome that. I’ve been tempted to quit, but when I am, I just tell myself I have to stick in there, because everyone would think I can’t handle it. I can handle it,” she says with conviction, and you don’t doubt her.
When prodded, Christopher will tell you some of his deeper feelings, too. Things like his biggest fear about serving a mission is not that it will break up his baseball career, but that he will never know enough about the gospel to teach it to other people. “Missionaries know so much,” he says. He seems relieved to learn that the Spirit blesses missionaries with special knowledge as they strive to learn and grow.
Surprisingly enough, he’ll also tell you that working with some of the greatest baseball players in the world, and even, on occasion, getting to travel with the team, is not as big a deal as some people would think. “Oh, the players are really nice and everything—especially Wally Joyner—he’s Mormon too. But it’s just a basic, normal job. I’m paid by the hour, minimum wage. The food is good though. We get to eat with the players, and the Angels have one of the best chefs in professional baseball.” Still, Christopher says he likes the ballpark hotdogs about the best.
As involved as the Drummonds are in sports, you might think their grades would suffer a bit. But not so. “They’re both on the honor roll,” says their dad. “They have to maintain B averages. That’s my rule. And no underwater basketweaving or sandwich making courses, either.” He then goes on to recite their schedules—solid, difficult classes every one, with the exception of baseball, which the Drummonds take very seriously. Of course, since Tom made the rules, he’s always there to help his kids accomplish them. It’s not uncommon to find the family studying together in the evenings.
The Drummonds just seem to look right through challenges. They’re not afraid to take on demanding classes, to be the only girl on local baseball teams, to work with professional baseball players, or to join a church that outlines a brand-new lifestyle. Quietly, solidly, without a lot of fanfare or hype, they step up to the plate and take their swings at the good pitches that come their way.

The family home evening we remember most fondly was one we held at a difficult time. Due to a change in management, my husband had gone through some challenges at work and felt discouraged.
We decided family home evening that week would be in his honor. Every member of the family wrote him a letter of thanks, saying why we love him and what we hope for him. Then we made an album of photographs of the family at important times, such as anniversaries, marriages, sealings, births, and other events. We wrote a comment by each one, ending each with “And so we are a happy family.” At the close of the evening, my daughter and I sang a Primary song that contains a similar phrase (see “A Happy Family,” Children’s Songbook, 198).
During family home evening we could feel the Savior’s love for us and the love we have for each other.
I am grateful for the inspired commandment to hold family home evening. Obeying it strengthens us, preparing us to be an eternal family.
Kenia Duarte dos Santos, Brazil

Last night I went to MIA. We had a different experience than we normally have. A master sergeant named Frank Brown called on Major Funk last week and asked about the Church. He said that his family in Florida was hearing the discussions and attending church, and he wanted to know more about what we believe. He said he has never seen his family so interested in church before. So Major Funk invited him to MIA.

Most of the members stayed in the regular room and read the Book of Mormon. Major Hollis, the district clerk, and I gave Frank the first discussion. It went quite well. I had practiced my half of the discussion this past week, after having been asked to give it.

Before going to MIA, I said a little prayer. I knew before I got there that things were going to be all right. The Holy Ghost really gives you help when you need it. Sergeant Brown is an honest man and expressed his feelings freely. We are planning to present the second discussion to him next Tuesday at MIA.

I had such a great experience last night. We met with Frank Brown again and presented to him the Book of Mormon lesson. Yesterday Frank received a Book of Mormon from his wife. It arrived with perfect timing. It was marked with specific scriptures to read.

Frank was very receptive to the discussion. He committed well and told us he believed the Church has been restored with the priesthood. He said he would continue to pray. I was really thrilled as he expressed his feelings.

It’s 9:00 P.M. and I’ve just come back from another discussion with Frank Brown. I don’t want to go back to the barracks and lose the wonderful spirit we felt. Here’s what happened tonight:

We held our meeting in the usual place, Major Hollis’ office. We have privacy there. I taught the complete lesson tonight, with Brother Hollis adding his testimony as he felt moved to do so. It was a beautiful discussion.

Frank answered our questions right down the line. He knows why we need to know the truth and how we obtain it. He bore his humble testimony that the Church of Jesus Christ has the truth because of the apostles and the priesthood. He told us how he could enjoy the blessings of the Church and the restoration by being baptized, but he said he still has some old ways that he must get settled. He really is a golden contact.

As the lesson progressed I asked, “What are some things men commonly take into their bodies that are harmful?” His answer included the things mentioned in the Word of Wisdom. He said he had just finished reading it tonight. His wife had sent it to him, and it arrived just the other day. I then asked him, “Why has God commanded us not to use these things?” He said, “Because of his great love for us. The use of these things harms us spiritually, too.” I asked Frank, “Do you use any of these things?” He said, “Not anymore!”

What an answer! Frank explained that a couple of weeks ago his cigar began to taste bitter anyway, so he decided he would quit smoking. He doesn’t like coffee, but he does enjoy tea. I said that if he could quit his tobacco, tea would be no problem. He used to drink occasionally but hasn’t since learning that his wife is interested in the Church.

Both Brother Hollis and I had tears in our eyes as we heard Frank bear his testimony about the Word of Wisdom. Neither of us had ever met a contact who had decided to live the Word of Wisdom before being told about it in the discussion.

As we finished the lesson, I asked him if his prayers had been answered about the restoration and the Joseph Smith story. He said he has been praying and he feels he has had his prayers answered.

It’s strange, but during the past couple of days, thoughts have been coming into my mind that I should forget about Frank because he wasn’t interested. I even thought that he wasn’t going to be there tonight. But I know now who put the thoughts in my head. Unfortunately, “Scratch” is having a wild time here in Vietnam. I’m sure Satan works against anyone being taught the truth.

Late yesterday afternoon Frank came to the office to ask some questions in regard to his wife’s latest letter. She told him briefly about sealing and temple work. Probably she just touched lightly on these deep subjects. He didn’t understand what we believed and wanted to know why his wife was so enthusiastic about the temple. Major Funk explained these subjects briefly but very simply and with much understanding. Frank seemed to have a better understanding of the gospel when he left.

Last night I had the privilege of teaching Frank and Terry the fifth discussion. I really enjoyed giving it. It was the lesson on the plan of salvation. Since Terry has already received the Holy Ghost, he really had a good understanding of the lesson. He answered the questions just as if he were reading from the book.

Frank said he called his family in Florida and asked them to make the arrangements for their baptism. His little girl, age nine, wrote and asked Frank if she and the rest of the family could be baptized. He decided to let them be baptized there in Florida, and he would be baptized here on the same day.

Frank is trying to coordinate with his family to be baptized on May 17. His wife couldn’t believe he was making the decision on his own, so I wrote her a letter explaining his conversion.

Frank was interviewed tonight, and it was announced to the congregation that he would be baptized. He asked me to baptize him. I was speechless. What an honor it will be to baptize Frank!

Frank Brown just came by and told me he received a letter this morning explaining that his family will be baptized in Florida at the same time on Saturday as he will be here. He was really happy. I’m certainly looking forward to Saturday morning.

I’m going to ask Dad to send me my line of authority. I’d like to let Frank know by what authority he was baptized.

What a great morning this has been. Frank was baptized!

He picked me up at 5:45 and we rode to the beach together. It was a beautiful morning. The sun had not yet risen above the horizon, and the clouds were just above the edge of the water. The stars were still twinkling. As we arrived at the beach, the golden haze of dawn made the sky a brilliant yellowish-orange, and this color was reflected in the calm sea. The fishing boats, several miles from shore, were returning from their night’s work. After a few minutes, more brethren arrived. Altogether, ten members from the Church attended the service.

The opening song was “Come, Come Ye Saints,” and considering the early hour, it sounded pretty good. After the opening prayer, the first counselor gave a talk about baptism. It was a good talk. Then Frank and I waded into the cool, clean water. It was very serene, peaceful, and smooth. We turned and faced the group on the beach.

As Frank came out of the water, he had a special radiance about him. He was purified as he had never been before. I’m very happy I had the chance to share the gospel with him.

We walked back to the group, and after changing into dry clothes, Frank was confirmed a member of the Church by Brother Hollis and given a wonderful blessing. President Coates and I stood in the circle to confirm him. After everyone had welcomed him into the fold, Frank took me back to my barracks, but we didn’t have much to say as we rode. We were just thinking.

Frank attended all three meetings yesterday. He spoke in last night’s sacrament meeting. He bore his testimony and then told about his family. He said, “I know this is the true church of God. I have been in other churches before this one, but the other ones don’t have the priesthood.” His family sent him word that they were baptized last Saturday in Florida. Frank was ordained to the office of deacon yesterday in priesthood meeting. He passed the sacrament in Sunday School and at sacrament meeting.

At church Frank told me about his family. They are active in their ward. He said his sixteen-year-old boy is already talking about a mission. The daughters will be helping their mother teach a Junior Sunday School class. Frank will fit right in when he returns home in September.

I was raised in a family of 11, including my mom and dad. We were well disciplined and religious, but we often fell short of praying as a family.
When I was seven years old, my aunt took me into her home. There I was taught the gospel because she and her husband were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
One night I was invited to pray with them before we went to bed. At first, I was a bit offended because prayer was not part of my life, but I found it easy to pray with them. After the prayer, my uncle taught me how to pray and helped me to understand the importance of praying. He explained that prayer is communication with God and that a relationship with God is impossible without prayer. He taught me that God knows our needs, but we need to ask first.
Talking to my uncle really gave me the desire to learn how to pray. The first time I prayed, I learned that I am a child of God and that He cares about me and wants me to talk to Him always. After that, I knew that when I am looking for God, I must keep calling on Him, even if I am not sure how He will answer.
I know that when we pray to God, He will make Himself known to us. If He answered me, He can likewise answer you.

My baptism was to take place in a lake the following Sunday, August 22. The weather had been hot and dry. But on Monday, August 16, a steady rain began, and the temperature dropped sharply. Friday morning I awoke with terrible tonsillitis. My whole throat was congested, and I was running a fever. I thought it would pass before Sunday.
The missionaries came on Saturday to interview me. Elder Parker, a young and very tall missionary, asked me the questions. He also agreed to baptize me. I said nothing about my illness.
The day of my baptism arrived. When I woke up I found that my throat was still the same. It was then I realized for the first time in my life what the Lord wanted from me. I said to myself, “I’ll do whatever I have to for Him. I will be baptized. Everything will be fine. The water will be warm, and my sickness will disappear after I am baptized.”
On the way to the lake I told the sisters what had been going on with me. They both looked in my mouth and said, all bundled up in their raincoats, “This is no joke. Should we move everything to a pool?”
“No, no.” I had firmly made up my mind to go ahead with our plans.
It was beautiful when we got there. The lake was like a mirror, without even a ripple. It was about a hundred meters from the changing room to the water. It had rained all week and was muddy. When I came out of the changing room, I saw Elder Parker in his white clothes walking confidently through the mud toward the lake. That was a stunning sight.
We stood in a circle and sang a hymn. We could see our breath, but we were not paying attention to the weather anymore. As I took my first step into the water, I knew I was doing the right thing. It felt warm. And when I came up out of the water, I was happy and healthy. Everyone laughed and cried. I had taken my first step on the path home. Our Heavenly Father loves us and gives us trials, expecting us to make the right decisions, to not doubt what is good.
I will remember that miraculous day for the rest of my life. It will live in my heart with the memories of my grandmother, who sowed the seed that sprouted so many years after her death

The years passed. As I was becoming a teenager, I had many dreams for my future, but somehow DeNeece was becoming what I considered to be an ideal person.
I remember the long hours the whole family spent helping her with the election for student council president. We cut out hundreds of blue vinyl “D’s” to put on her posters. During all those nights of drawing, cutting, and gluing, I was certain that she would win the election, and of course, she did. With jealous frustration, I watched her throughout that year. She never lost anything she set out to win, even the high office of governor of Girls’ State.
The inauguration was a memorable event. Our family sat on the stage in the background. I watched her smile of accomplishment as she was escorted down the long aisle lined with 409 other outstanding girls. After she took the oath of office, she was given flowers and other gifts. Cameras seemed to flash endlessly when the trophy was handed to her. During the ceremony, conflicting thoughts kept racing through my mind. DeNeece looked so beautiful as she gave her talk. But why were there tears in people’s eyes, and why did they all stand up when she finished? Why did she always win? I felt proud of her, so why was I angry with her? I was confused and could not understand myself.
The trophy for Most Outstanding Teenager of New Jersey was among her numerous awards I often admired. It took seven columns in the New York Times to summarize DeNeece’s accomplishments. The article entitled “A Jersey Teenager Is a Super Achiever” was placed on a leading page. A cold chill ran through my body as I read and reread the article. My heart and mind were torn as I struggled with my feelings. Why could she do everything so well? Why did she draw everyone to her like a magnet? I knew how much I loved her, yet I was tired of being “DeNeece’s little sister.”
That winter I decided I had to become like her. I tried ballet. I tried drama. I started doing many of the things in which she was interested. Nothing seemed right for me, and I became more frustrated. Although I had regularly prayed, I now developed an even greater need to communicate my thoughts with God. I spent many hours on my knees asking that I might gain peace of mind and understanding of DeNeece and my feelings toward her. It seemed my prayers were finally answered through DeNeece herself. Because of her deep concern for others, she sensed my growing struggle. She knew she needed to help me, so we walked and talked again in the snow.
“Michelle, I am glad you’re you. I’m grateful that you have shared your special talents with me. Help me to become more patient and understanding like you. Help me learn to be close to people on a one-to-one basis. You have so many of the refined qualities that I desire to have someday. Discover how special you really are; then be the best of what you can be. Don’t try to be another DeNeece; be a Michelle. Your gifts and talents will flourish, and we can grow together.”
I was very surprised to find that she desired some of the traits I had. She helped me see that I was trying to mold my ball exactly like hers, yet after many months of uncertain effort, my snowball was still quite small.
After our walk together, I decided to discover and develop my own strengths and talents. I tried playing the clarinet, guitar, and piano, singing, writing poetry, teaching children, and being artistic.
I recognized the beauty of music and the total satisfaction that comes from sharing it with others. When I played in church, I felt an inner fulfillment come to me as a performer and to my friends as an audience. I experienced satisfaction each time people would thank me for touching their hearts with my music.
Just as I was realizing my musical potential, I was asked to teach the three-year-olds in church. I discovered how much happiness comes when a small hand takes mine and two big blue eyes look up to me and say, “Thanks, Michelle, for being my special friend.” Serving the Lord through working with his little children helped me understand the real meaning of the scripture, “Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God” (Luke 18:16).
Through accepting other leadership responsibilities, I have had opportunities to help my friends. I have learned that many of their problems originate from their individual families or their lack of purpose in life. Through those hours of talking with them, I have grown to love and appreciate my family even more.
By trying these different experiences I have started to roll my snowball in my own unique path, using my talents as the basis. I get excited when I see the snow accumulate and grow with each new day of development.
When DeNeece came home from college this summer, we shared a free, unpressured week, our strengths and talents working together. I played the piano while we sang duets, we created unusual gifts for our family, and we walked and talked again. We spent many nights until dawn sitting on her thick shag rug sharing memorable experiences of the past years. We also talked about qualities such as being thoughtful, fellowshipping, and understanding others. Then we prayed together that our love for each other might grow continually. We talked about serving the Lord, but each in her own individual way. Finally, we were able to begin unifying our growing snowballs to create one strong snowman.
So in my thoughtful hour, watching the snow glide to the earth, I find that my talents flow gently to me as I am willing to discover my gifts and myself.

Finally, after trying for a long time, we were expecting our first child. What joy and what emotion! Everything was going well. Our daughter was developing, growing, and everyone around us was as happy as we were for the blessing of this long-awaited daughter.
But complications set in. A rare blood and liver complication threatened both the baby and me. Doctors also discovered blood clotting in the placenta. When I was six months along, our daughter needed to be born.
When she was born, she weighed just under a pound (0.5 kg) and measured just over 10 inches (25 cm). In the hospital the nurses called her our “little warrior.” But four days after her birth, her condition worsened and she passed away. Giving birth to my daughter and then going home without her in my arms and seeing her little things at home gave me inexplicable pain!
I traveled with her little coffin in my lap for almost 190 miles (300 km) until we reached our hometown of Garruchos and buried her there. At times I could feel her presence, as if she were touching my face with her hand. My husband, Gustavo, dedicated the grave, and we buried her.
We spent three days at my parents’ home, where people came to visit us. Some could not understand how God could allow this to happen to us. But we never questioned the Lord. He chose us to be the parents of this special person, this little angel, who needed so few days on this earth to fulfill her mission. We didn’t see this as a punishment or a trial. We saw it as a blessing. It is now our duty to be worthy of being with her again.
The gospel gives us the light, strength, and hope of one day being able to raise her. Of course, we are sad on occasion, and sometimes we feel an emptiness. But then the Spirit comforts us.
We are trying to have another baby, and we know that things happen according to the Lord’s plan and time. Heavenly Father loves us and will never abandon us. How grateful we are to Him for having prepared a way for us to one day live together as a family.

Illustration by David Malan/Malan Creative
I have always wanted to play in the Orchestra at Temple Square, the orchestra of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I play the clarinet and have a degree in music, but it’s unlikely I will ever get the opportunity.
After all, I live in New Zealand.
The Holy Ghost reminds me, however, that I can “be content” (Alma 29:3) as a musical pioneer for the Church in New Zealand and other areas. My first calling at age 18 was as music leader in the nursery. Since then, I have been blessed to direct and produce stake and ward musical productions, as well as play the piano in Primary. I have shared music across New Zealand and in the Philippines. I have sung a duet at the Provo Missionary Training Center.
Music has kept me in the Church throughout a difficult battle with anxiety and depression. When I felt I couldn’t do anything else, I knew I could say yes to helping with music. Music helps me see the world through spiritual eyes.
I get to create music with my wife and three children. Together, we have performed in the ward, created a musical contribution for a missionary broadcast in the Auckland New Zealand Mission, and sung for an online stake conference. I know how the word of God, through Church hymns, invites the Holy Ghost and can touch hearts in our families and wards.
I continue to love the Orchestra at Temple Square from afar, but I know we are blessed when we seek opportunities to serve and praise the Lord wherever we are and in whatever way we can (see Psalm 150:6). I am grateful we can share our testimonies through our gifts and talents, including music. We are blessed, and we bless others, as we share those gifts and talents with God’s children and “lift where we stand.”

Elder Pratt was soon reunited with his family on Tubuai, and over the next 18 months, he oversaw the Church throughout the islands. Louisa and Telii became close friends, often working together to serve the women of the Tubuai Branch.13 In 1852, compelled by tensions with the French colonial authorities, Louisa and the other missionaries prepared to leave French Polynesia. In a final sermon to the sisters of Tubuai, Louisa begged them to continue in faith and entrusted their teaching to Telii. “We appointed Telii their guardian,” Louisa recalled.14

Mark helped his sister, Mattie, across the dirt and rubble in the street. The snow that had been white and sparkling earlier that morning on their way to school was now gray with the city’s soot.
As they walked home, Mark thought about his first day of school after the Christmas holiday. The teacher and children had taken down all the Christmas decorations, and the classroom had a clean new look that matched the clean new morning snow.
Maybe, Mark thought, when we get home, Mattie and I can work together and clean our house too.
He was about to tell Mattie his idea when almost at the same moment they saw a green tree limb sticking out of a pile of dirty snow.
They bent down to pick it up, but the limb was crusted over with ice. Twisting and turning together, they were finally able to loosen the ice and snow and pull out a Christmas tree that had been thrown away. Pieces of tinsel and ribbon clung to the brittle green needles, and here and there were small bits of bright paper.
“Do you think we could take it home?” Mattie asked.
“Sure!” answered Mark. “No one else would want it. And now we can have a Christmas tree—even if it is after Christmas!”
Together they dragged the tree to the corner of the street. They struggled up the three flights of stairs of the apartment building and into their living room.
Mark quickly cleared a space by the window and set the tree carefully on a small piece of rug. Then they both sat down in front of the tree and looked at it.
Father lay on the couch as usual. He lifted the paper he was reading to watch them. Mother came from the kitchen and stood in the doorway silently. Neither of them said anything.
Each afternoon Mattie and Mark hurried home from school to see their tree. Mattie cut her favorite bright red ribbon and tied small bows on the tree. Mark went through his box of treasures and found a few things that almost looked like Christmas ornaments. Both of them watched for bits of tinfoil and pieces of bright yarn or string to make their tree more beautiful.
In the long evenings as they sat before the tree, they softly sang carols they had learned in school. Neither Father nor Mother seemed to pay much attention. The children felt as if they were living in a different world, so they were surprised when one night Father started humming the songs with them.
That same night Mother came to the kitchen door and said, “Don’t make so much of that tree. After all, it was the Child who made Christmas, not just a tree.”
“Tell us about the Baby,” Mark and Mattie pleaded.
Mother took the old Bible from the round table, dusted it, and read to them. Night after night they asked for the story. And over and over again Mother read about the small Child in the manger and Mary and Joseph who were so careful and protecting.
“That star was something too,” Father said one night.
“Tell us again about the star,” Mark asked, and no one seemed to think it strange when Father began talking about the star that led the wisemen.
Once when Mother put the book back, she dusted and straightened the round table and swept the floor around the tree. The next night when she read, Mother had on a pretty pink apron.
When the snow began to melt, Mark and Mattie found many shiny bits for the tree, until its branches were filled with color and sparkle. Even though many of the needles on the tree had fallen off, the children noticed that Mother still kept the floor swept clean.
In honor of the tree, they thought.
Mark and Mattie just laughed when the children of the neighborhood called them scavengers. Nothing was too good for their tree!
They were so happy with this bit of beauty in their lives that at first they didn’t even notice their father no longer lay on the couch most of the time.
Then one warm afternoon in March, they came home to noise and confusion. Many people were gathered around their apartment. They heard an officer say to their mother, “I’ve been told that there is still a Christmas tree in your house. I’m afraid it’s dry as tinder and a real fire hazard. The tree must go!”
“But it’s so pretty,” said Mattie.
“Please, can’t we keep it?” Mark pleaded.
The officer sent the curious crowd away. Father came running in, looking excited. The officer closed the door to the apartment and sat down in front of the tree with Mark, Mattie, Father, and Mother.
“Why did you keep it so long after Christmas?” he asked.
Mark explained how they hadn’t had a real Christmas. But when he and Mattie found the tree and brought it home and decorated it, Christmas came at last. Mother told them the story of Christ’s birth, and Father sang songs with them.
Mattie looked as if she was about to cry.
“And now it will all be over,” Mark said, and there was an odd little catch in his voice.
“No,” said Mother quietly. “It’s just the beginning. The tree has been a miracle for us. Because of it, we have changed our ways. Now we can have beauty and happiness in our home without the tree.”
“And next Christmas,” said Father, “we’ll have a tree of our own. I got a job today.”
“You have more than a tree now,” said the officer. “And just so you can keep all you have, we’ll remove the fire hazard.”
After the tree was gone, Mark and Mattie looked at Father and Mother. There was something different about them.
Then they smiled at each other, for suddenly they understood that after all they didn’t really need the Christmas tree to be happy!

Sarah listened as Mom talked on the phone. She was telling Dad how Sister Evans’ car had a flat tire, so Mom had given her, her baby, and her groceries a ride home. Sarah heard Mom say, “I did my good deed for the day.”
Sarah was puzzled. She wandered into the family room where her big brother, Christopher, was busy folding the laundry. “What’s a good deed?” she asked.
“A good deed is something helpful that you do for someone,” Christopher explained. “For example, if you helped me put away these clothes, you would be doing a good deed.”
“OK, I’ll help,” Sarah said. She scooped up a stack of towels and hurried to the bathroom to put them away. Before long, the job was done.
“Thank you, Sarah,” Christopher said.
Sarah smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said. “I guess I did my good deed for the day.” She went to tell Mom what she had done. On the way, she saw her baby brother, Adam. He was standing in front of Dad’s big easy chair, looking very unhappy. His ball was on the chair, just out of his reach.
“Oh, Adam,” Sarah exclaimed, “I’ll help you!” She ran to the chair, grabbed the ball, and handed it to Adam. He smiled, threw the ball, and toddled off after it.
“Now I’ve done two good deeds,” Sarah said to herself as she continued to search for Mom. She found her in the kitchen, fixing dinner. “May I set the table?” Sarah asked.
“Of course you may,” Mom answered. “I’m always happy to have you as my helper.”
“I’m doing good deeds today,” Sarah announced as she set the table. “I helped Christopher, then I helped Adam, and now I’m helping you.” She paused, then asked, “What’s a good deed that I can do for Dad?”
“When he gets home from work, you can give him a hug and tell him that you love him,” Mom suggested.
Sarah laughed. “I always do that,” she said. “That’s not a good deed.”
“It is a good deed,” Mom said. “Your dad looks forward to your hug and ‘I love you’ all day long.”
Just then they heard Dad opening the garage door. “Here I go!” Sarah said. She ran to Dad and jumped into his arms. “I love you, Dad!” she declared, giving him a great big hug.
“And I love you, Sarah,” he said, carrying her into the kitchen. “Tell me what you did today.”
Sarah beamed. “I did lots of good deeds.”
“Good for you!” Dad set Sarah down and gave Mom a kiss. “I called Sister Evans and told her that I would change her tire right after dinner.”
“That will be your good deed for the day, Dad!” Sarah declared. “It’s a good thing Sister Evans had a flat tire today or we wouldn’t have been able to do so many good deeds!”