Gospel Story Finder

I wanted to do service in our ward and began by praying to know how I could serve. The answer didn’t come right away, but a few days later, I had the idea of doing a day of babysitting so mothers could go Christmas shopping or take the day off with their husbands.
I prayed to Heavenly Father to help me know whom I should ask. I had four families accept my offer. My friend Emily and my sister, Hannah, helped me babysit all the kids.
I learned that service can be fun if you make it fun and find things you can do. Now I want to do another service for the same mothers so they can go to the temple three hours away, but I need to work out the details.
Sarah S., Arkansas, USA

When I was young I was overly dependent on my older sister. For example, I was a fussy eater, and when we went to visit our grandparents I was constantly faced with being offered food I didn’t like. To minimize my embarrassment, when the plate was passed to me, I would turn to my sister and ask, “Collene, do I like this?”
If it was familiar and she knew I didn’t like it, she would say, “No, he doesn’t like that.”
I could then say to Grandma, “She’s right. I don’t like it.”
If it was something we hadn’t eaten before, she would say, “Just a minute,” and taste it, and then tell me if I liked it or not. If she said I didn’t like it, no amount of coaxing could get me to eat it.
I know it is past time for me to rely on my own taste buds and stop denying myself healthy food just because my sister told me I didn’t like it.

To grow fruit there is a yearly challenge. After the fruit has blossomed, if it gets extremely cold, the blossoms will freeze, and the whole crop will be wiped out. Just as the fruit farmers relied on the Lord for rain, they also relied on the Lord to help them protect their crops. One time we had a long, hard cold spell that lasted night after night. Our stake president asked for a special fast that the elements would be tempered, and we were able to save our fruit.

Moira hummed softly as she and Mamá walked out of the chapel. Church had just ended.
”Hi, Moira,” said President Scott. Richard G. Scott was the mission president in Argentina, where Moira lived. “Would you be willing to give a talk in district conference next month?”
Moira swallowed. She was just 12 years old, and she had never given a talk before! “I could try,” she said.
President Scott smiled. “Thank you! You will do great.”
On the way home from church, Moira’s heart was beating fast. “I don’t know if I can do it,” she said.
“Heavenly Father will help you,” said Mamá. “He has helped you do hard things before, hasn’t He?”
Moira would have to be brave to speak at district conference. But she knew she could do it with Heavenly Father’s help. For the next few weeks, Moira worked hard on her talk. She wrote down what she would say. Then she practiced saying it out loud.
Finally the day came for her talk. Moira sat in the front and looked out at all the people in the chapel. There were so many!
Then Moira spotted someone waving at her. It was Carmen! Moira waved back. Seeing her friend in the crowd made her feel a little better.
When it was her turn, Moira stepped up to the microphone. She took a deep breath. Then she gave her talk. Her voice was shaky at first. But she could feel the Holy Ghost helping her. At the end, she shared her testimony. “I know that Jesus lives and loves us. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
After the meeting, everyone went outside for a picnic lunch. Carmen found Moira and gave her a hug. “You did great!” she said.
“Thanks! I was scared, but Heavenly Father really helped me.” Moira smiled. She had done something she had never done before, and that made her a pioneer.

“Ship 3527 to mission control. We’re entering launch codes. Stand by.” Nathan’s four-inch-tall stuffed monkey couldn’t really talk, and he wasn’t really the copilot in a brigade of intergalactic star fighters, but as Nathan sat on a swing outside his elementary school on a warm Saturday afternoon with the monkey perched in his lap, he couldn’t help letting his imagination get carried away. He pictured his miniature copilot typing in a flurry of complicated formulas, preparing their ship to launch.
Nathan gripped the swing ropes and shuffled backward, careful not to let the monkey slip from his lap. He was now in ready position.
“5, 4, 3, 2, 1 … we have ignition!” With an explosive whoosh, Nathan shot forward into motion. Pumping furiously, he propelled himself higher and higher, faster and faster, as he imagined the two of them soaring past the moon, past Mars, out of the solar system, out of the galaxy.
“Nathan! Come over here!” The voice of one of Nathan’s neighborhood pals brought him back to reality. “Look at this sand village I built! Do you want to help? We could make it huge!”
Nathan leaped from the swing and tossed his monkey onto a nearby bench so it wouldn’t get dirty. “OK,” he said. “I’ll start on the roads.”
The boys were just finishing the town when Nathan’s mom called out from a nearby bench, “Nathan, it’s time to go home.”
Nathan stood up, brushed the sand from his clothes, and headed toward Mom. They walked across the grass, down the street, around the corner, and into their front yard. Suddenly, Nathan gasped. “Oh no! My copilot!”
After a quick explanation to Mom, Nathan ran around the corner back to the school playground. Drawing close to the familiar bench, he was puzzled to find it bare. He checked under it, around it, and behind it, but there was no stuffed animal. Desperately, he scanned the area for any sign of his favorite toy, but all he could see were swings, slides, an abandoned city of sand, and a couple of kids playing catch with their dog. The monkey was gone.
Nathan carefully retraced his steps around the playground but couldn’t find the monkey anywhere. Losing hope, Nathan was about to give up the search when he remembered something his mom had told him about prayer: “If you ask the Lord for something that’s right, you’ll receive it.” He knelt on the ground and pleaded, “Heavenly Father, could you please help me find my monkey?” When the prayer was finished, he stood and thought for a moment. “I’ll just look one more time,” he decided.
He looked up and saw the children who had been playing with their dog walking by. He was about to walk right past them when a thought came to his mind: maybe they could help.
“Did either of you see a little stuffed monkey?” he asked them.
The kids looked at each other and laughed. “Yeah,” one of them said sheepishly. “We didn’t think it belonged to anyone, so we tossed it around and let our dog try to catch it.”
“I threw it too hard,” the other boy said, “and it landed on the roof of the school. I’m really sorry.”
Nathan couldn’t help grinning in relief. “It’s OK,” he said. “I’ll get it down. Thanks!”
Later, with the help of his parents, Nathan was able to get his monkey down from the roof. He realized how blessed he had been to meet those kids before they left, and how fortunate it was that he had thought to ask them about his toy. Without their help, the monkey would never have been found. He was grateful that his prayer had been answered.
Nathan tucked the monkey firmly into his pocket and radioed mission control. “This is ship 3527. Copilot recovered. We’re ready for launch once more.”
And with a nod from his parents, Nathan shot down the road toward home, happy to be back in the pilot’s seat with his favorite stuffed friend.

If you think about it, it’s a bit strange for someone to put goodies in your old sock. But like many Christmas traditions, the tradition of Christmas stockings comes from an old legend. A long time ago (so the story goes), a poor man had three daughters and couldn’t afford to give them a dowry (money or goods given to the groom’s family by the bride’s family). In those days, it was very hard for a woman to get married without a dowry. A Christian bishop named Nicholas heard about the problem and wanted to help, but the man refused to accept money. One night, Nicholas threw three balls made of pure gold in through the open window of the man’s house. Each one landed in a stocking hung by the fire to dry. The next morning, each daughter found a gold ball in her stocking. With this bounty, they were all able to get married. Stockings can remind us of the importance of service. The greatest example of service is Jesus Christ. He always “went about doing good” (Acts 10:38). Take some time to think about the Savior’s selfless acts of service. How can you give Christlike service and show kindness to others?

I didn’t think I would ever be able to have a chance to serve a mission, with my disabilities and challenges, but my patriarchal blessing tells me that I would serve as a missionary, so I prayed for guidance from my Heavenly Father to answer my prayers and fulfil my righteous desires to serve the Lord.
Because my ward Relief Society president heard about service missions, spoke with my mother, and helped me to complete my mission papers, I started my service mission on the 4th of January 2021. Now serving a mission, I find some days are hard, but Heavenly Father strengthens me in so many ways when I need it. I have grown so much, and I know I am in His hands.
Heavenly Father always makes a way to achieve His work. One of these ways is making available to all His sons and daughters the privilege to serve Him, by providing the opportunity to be a service missionary. One of my favourite scriptures is Ether 12:27. I have a supportive family who help me with some of my assignments. I volunteer at a foodbank two days a week. I also volunteer with the Church’s Records Operations Centre on a few projects. One of these is BillionGraves—I have spent a lot of time transcribing headstones on its website and going to my local graveyard and taking photos of headstones.
Some people I have met at the graveyard can be unhelpful, but then there are those who ask questions, and to whom it’s a joy to speak. It does not deter me from doing this work; I find it calms me and brings me happiness knowing I am serving those on both sides of the veil, as the prophet has asked us to do.
I have met some people who have been interested and puzzled why a young man would do what I do. I spend most of my time cleaning the headstones, so that I can read them and take photos, or hacking my way through overgrown grass and weeds. One time I found a small headstone beside a big tree near a footpath, that had been lost in the undergrowth, and completely hidden from view. I cleaned it up and removed the holly bush, other weeds and grass that were hiding it. It was a grave of a five-week-old baby boy, Tony Hamilton, lost from view and forgotten. Now, since I cleared it, someone has mowed around the tree and the grave, so hopefully he will not be lost again.
It is usually only the people who come to see family graves that keep them tidy—it would not get done otherwise. I have a lot of conversations about BillionGraves and the work I am doing, and online resources and websites for family history. There is one man who wants to know more about it, so I may have started something.
These are peoples’ last resting places, and we need to have respect for them. I have transcribed over 40,000 names from photos of headstones on the website, including over 3,000 names from over 2,000 headstones for which I have taken the photos and put on the website. A few ward members have family buried in this graveyard, as well of some of my ancestors from the 1700s and 1800s. As I find names related to members in the ward, I take and print photos of them. collect them in a file and give them to the members. I hadn’t come across any names I knew for the first few weeks I started doing it, then at the end of one day when at home as I was going through the photos on my laptop, some names came up on my screen (about six or seven) that I was sure I didn’t take that day, but they were there. All I can say is the people whose names were on the headstones wanted to be found, hopefully to have their temple work done and belong to eternal families.
I am so happy that I can be part of this great work building family chains. I liked the message on one headstone, “Precious memories always in our hearts”. Yes, we should always keep them in our hearts so that they are not lost, not forgotten.

Several years later our family was living in New York City for the summer, and we were attending a scholarly workshop together with lots of other aspiring scholars. Many of my colleagues were Christian, and one week we decided to perform an ecumenical gesture by attending the Riverside Church with my Christian colleagues. We got up in the morning and announced to our children that we were going to the Riverside Church, and our little boy said, “Wow, I really don’t want to put on my crunchy clothes today, and I really don’t want to go to that church.” First I pleaded. Then I just grabbed his arm and dragged him out the door. As we got to the Riverside Church and went through the entrance, we looked in and realized that people had not brought their children to this meeting. The two thousand people in the church were sitting there quietly, waiting for the beginning of the meeting, and my five-year-old son shouted out, “But Daddy, this isn’t even the true church!” So much for the ecumenical gesture of the Seelys that week.

The influence of the Holy Ghost continued with him as we arrived at the home of my parents. We talked for a few minutes in the living room. Dad excused himself to go into his nearby bedroom.

After a few minutes, he walked back into the living room. He had a pleasant smile. He walked up to us and said quietly, “I was worried that Mildred would arrive in the spirit world alone. I thought she might feel lost in the crowd.”

Then he said brightly, “I prayed just now. I know Mildred is all right. My mother was there to meet her.”

I remember smiling as he said that, imagining my grandmother, her short legs pumping, rushing through a crowd to be sure she was there to meet and embrace her daughter-in-law as she arrived.

How about this for a conversion chain? Mark Lybbert invited Sharon Violette and Linda Prothero to the institute in Yakima, Washington. Their baptisms, and that of Linda’s twin, Brenda, resulted. Then Sharon and Brenda brought Tina Manzano into membership. A cousin of the twins was next—Cheryl. They went to a doughnut shop and introduced themselves and the gospel to Dan Kelso, who joined the Church. Marilyn Dailey showed some interest, and the institute crowd went to work. Now Marilyn and seven other family members are in the Church. Cheryl also brought her mom and two sisters to firesides at the institute. Baptisms followed. Wow!

Lexi ran outside with the rest of Mrs. Crandall’s third-grade class for recess. What should she play today? Sometimes she jumped rope with Tara and Isabella. Sometimes she played foursquare with David and Kristina and Callie. But Lexi wanted to do something different today. Maybe she should join the soccer game.
Then Lexi noticed something very different.
A new girl sat near the edge of the playground. She had brown skin and long, shiny hair that reminded Lexi of her piano teacher’s glossy black piano. Lexi thought the new girl looked like a princess from another country.
Why wasn’t anyone playing with the new girl? Lexi decided to ask a teacher.
“Her name is Nasimah,” the teacher said. “She’s from Pakistan. She doesn’t speak English, but I’m sure she’d like to play with you.”
“I don’t know,” Lexi said. She wondered how she could play with the new girl if they couldn’t talk to each other. How would she say, “What do you want to play?” or, “It’s your turn,” or even, “Hello”?
Lexi decided to jump rope with Isabella after all. But she watched Nasimah whenever she could.
At home, Lexi couldn’t stop thinking of Nasimah and how lonely she must be. There had to be a way to talk to her. Maybe Mom could think of something.
Lexi found her mother in the laundry room. She was sewing patches on Lexi’s brother’s Scout shirt. “Do you know any words from Pakistan?” Lexi asked.
“No,” Mom said. “Why?”
Lexi explained about Nasimah.
“If you want to play with her, I think you should,” Mom said, “even if you can’t understand her words.”
“I don’t know,” Lexi said. She hung her head and played with the spools of thread in Mom’s sewing box. A ball of black yarn reminded Lexi of Nasimah’s shiny hair.
An idea was coming together in Lexi’s brain. “Mom,” she said, “do you have an old sock I can use?”
“An old sock? I suppose so.”
“And can I use some of this yarn?” Lexi dug through the box and found the button jar. “And a couple of buttons?”
“Sure,” Mom said.
With a little help from Mom, Lexi made the perfect sock puppet. Its hair was black, just like Nasimah’s hair. Its button eyes were blue, just like Lexi’s eyes. Mom helped Lexi make a red dress for the puppet.
The next day, Lexi thought recess would never come. Concentrating on her spelling test was hard. She kept thinking of the sock puppet in her backpack. Finally recess came and Lexi raced outside with the puppet.
Where was Nasimah? Lexi looked all over the playground. At last, Nasimah came out with her class and stood by the wall.
Lexi took a deep breath. Would the puppet work? It had seemed like such a wonderful idea yesterday.
“I have to try,” Lexi thought.
She walked slowly over to Nasimah. Lexi held up the puppet and slipped it over her hand. Moving her hand, she made the puppet talk.
“Hi!” the puppet said in Lexi’s voice. “Do you want to play with me?”
Lexi took the puppet off her hand. She gave it to Nasimah and helped her put it on her hand.
Nasimah moved the sock puppet. It began to speak strange words that danced in Lexi’s ears. They took turns with the puppet for the rest of recess. When Lexi held the puppet, it spoke English. When Nasimah held the puppet, it spoke her language. Lexi thought she was starting to understand a couple of words.
When the bell rang, Lexi handed the puppet to her new friend. “You keep it,” Lexi said. “It’s a present.”
Nasimah seemed to understand. She kept the puppet and smiled.
“Smiles are the same in all languages,” Lexi thought. And she smiled back.

Ophélie and her family walked out of the church building together.
“What an amazing general conference,” Papa said. “What was your favorite part, Ophélie?”
“I like how President Nelson asked us to do acts of service,” Ophélie said. “I like helping people.”
“I do too,” Maman said. “Let’s follow the prophet and look for ways we can help others.”
A few days later, Ophélie and Papa visited their neighbor Suzie. Ophélie really liked Suzie. She had white hair and a big smile. She was like a bonus grandma!
Suzie told them she was going to have eye surgery the next day. Ophélie was a little worried.
“Will Suzie be OK?” she asked Papa while they walked home.
“Yes,” Papa said. “She’s been having trouble seeing, and the surgery will help her see better. But she’ll need a few days for her eyes to heal.”
Ophélie told Maman about Suzie’s surgery while they set the table for dinner.
“Maybe we could do something to help her,” Ophélie said. “Like President Nelson said.”
“Good idea. What could we do?” Maman asked.
Ophélie thought about it. Ophélie’s family raked leaves in Suzie’s yard each fall. They shoveled her snow during the long Canadian winters. But now it was springtime. There wasn’t any snow. Or leaves. How could they help?
During the prayer before dinner, Ophélie asked Heavenly Father to bless them to know how to help Suzie. Then Papa helped her scoop pâté chinois onto her plate.
The delicious smell of the potatoes, vegetables, and ground beef made Ophélie’s mouth water. She took a bite. It was one of her favorite dinners. Especially because Maman always let her mash the potatoes! She loved helping Maman cook.
Then Ophélie had an idea. “Maman, can we make dinner for Suzie tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Maman said. “How about a tourtière?”
“Great,” Ophélie said. “And we could make muffins too!”
The next day, Ophélie and Papa carried a plate of meat pies and muffins outside. Ophélie spotted the beautiful purple flowers blooming in their garden. She picked some and held them together in a little bouquet. Then she and Papa walked to Suzie’s house.
Ophélie knocked on Suzie’s door. Soon Suzie answered. She was wearing dark sunglasses.
“Bonjour,” Ophélie said. “We brought you dinner. And muffins.”
“It’s so kind of you to think of me,” Suzie said.
“These are for you too,” Ophélie said. She handed Suzie the bouquet.
“Très jolie!” Suzie said. “They’re beautiful. Please, come in.”
Ophélie and Papa followed Suzie into the house. “How are your eyes?” Papa asked.
“They’re a little sore right now. That’s why I have these,” Suzie said, tapping her sunglasses.
“Can you see better now?” Ophélie asked.
“It’s still a little blurry. But I should be able to see better in a few days.”
Ophélie gave Suzie a big hug. “I’m glad you’re OK. Can we come see you again when your eyes are better?”
“Of course. And when you see me next time, I’ll be able to see you too!” Suzie said. They all laughed.
Ophélie was glad she could serve, like Heavenly Father wanted her to and like the prophet asked. She liked helping her friend Suzie.

“Hey, Mike! Can you take the lady in the hallway back to her room on the third floor?” the radiology tech asked.
“Yeah, sure,” I said. “You just love to keep me busy, don’t you?”
“You know what they say. We’re supposed to run the candy stripers into the ground with work,” he shot back.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” I said to an older woman in a wheelchair, “I’m here to take you back up to your room.”
“Tell me,” she said, “when did they start employing doctors in their teens?”
“Oh no,” I said with a laugh. “I’m only a volunteer. I come here to help out.” I didn’t add, And to gain experience that will help me get into a decent college.
“Well that’s very sweet of you,” she replied.
“So how are you doing?” I asked, not really because I cared, but because I was supposed to be nice and foster a pleasant atmosphere for the patients.
“I could be better,” she said.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you get better.” We chatted as I wheeled her to her room. At the same time, I was thinking about how many more people I would need to bring to their rooms before the end of the day. “Hey, I never got your name. I’m Michael.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Michael,” she said sincerely. “I’m Rebecca.”
“It’s been a pleasure to meet you as well,” I said. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Maybe I’ll see you again.”
“Thank you, Michael,” the woman replied.
I wasn’t too affected by the experience. I took people from the Radiology Department to some designated area in the hospital every day. It was my assignment. After saying good-bye, I went downstairs to attend to some more people in wheelchairs.
Later in the afternoon I received a call from the Intensive Coronary Care Unit. I was shocked. Teenagers weren’t allowed in ICCU.
“Hello? This is Michael Brodeur,” I said into the phone.
“Oh, you’re the one! You’re the boy who was so nice,” a nurse said. “Could you come up to ICCU for a little while?”
“Okay, ma’am, I’ll be there right away,” I said, not quite knowing what to expect. I was curious as to why I had been called, but soon, thoughts of schoolwork, the upcoming football game, and food replaced my curiosity.
“Right this way,” a nurse pointed when I arrived. “It’s the door right in the middle of all the others.”
I knocked at the door. “Hello? This is Michael,” I said.
“Please come in,” a weak voice responded.
It was the woman I had wheeled to her room earlier that day. “What’s wrong?” I immediately asked, sensing something was terribly wrong.
“I just found out my cancer has progressed to a very bad stage,” she said.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Well, I just wanted to talk to you,” she replied. “You were so kind to me this morning, and, well, I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Of course! I’d love to do that,” I answered.
“You remind me so much of my grandson. You have the hair, the eyes, the face. He looks so much like you,” she said.
“So where does your grandson live?” I asked.
We talked for about 30 minutes. I learned about her grandchildren. I learned that she used to win beauty pageants. I learned that her husband of 42 years had died just under a year ago. I learned a lot.
That’s when it hit me: these are lives I’m touching. Why have I been so casual about people’s lives?
I found out that after she was told about her condition, she had asked for the “boy who had been so nice to her.” The boy who had been so nice? I hadn’t been mean, but I certainly hadn’t been the most sincere person around. After all, for me this volunteer work was just a way to get into college. I resolved to change. Never again would I so lightly consider these people I was serving. I redoubled my efforts as a volunteer and started to take pride in my work.
I was only 17 years old. But I could make a difference.

After 34 years in the Church Educational System, my wife and I decided about three years ago to retire and set our feet on some different paths in life. At that point we began to make plans. We changed our residence to be closer to children and grandchildren. I began to develop what I thought were some wonderful projects. Some were absolutely brilliant, I thought. And then one of those pivotal moments in life happened.
It was our privilege at that time to be living across the street from Elder F. Enzio Busche, now an emeritus Seventy, and his wife. One day Elder Busche taught our high priests quorum, and he cited a scripture in the book of Alma where Alma longs to have the voice of an angel. Then Alma immediately repents of those feelings, and in verse four makes a remarkable statement. He suggests that we have to be careful what we desire, for the Lord grants unto us the desires of our heart. And then came what was to me almost a stunning statement: “Whether they be unto salvation or unto destruction.” God will grant unto us, according to our will, the things which we desire (see Alma 29:1–5).
I went home that day—and it’s not that I felt any of my desires were wrong—but in that moment I realized that those desires were mine. That day I began to try to let the Lord know that what I’d like to do is fulfill His desires. Even then, I thought I really meant it, but I came to know that that’s an easy thing to say and a difficult thing to do. As Elder Maxwell said yesterday, only when we truly yield our hearts to God can He begin to accelerate the purification and the sanctification and the perfecting process (see Hel. 3:35). We have found in the three years that have come since that time that the Lord has set our feet on different paths than we expected, and this one is the latest.
Just the other day, after President Hinckley called my wife and me, I was reading in the book of Deuteronomy and found a verse in the 12th chapter that came to mean a lot to me. It’s put in the form of a commandment. The Lord says, “Thou shalt rejoice before the Lord thy God in all that thou puttest thine hands unto” (Deut. 12:18). We are grateful for this privilege to rejoice in the Lord at this new opportunity.
Since starting on those paths, we have come to learn how truly merciful God is, how deeply He loves us, and how perfectly compelling His love is for us. When I was 16 years old and not smart enough to know very much at all, the Spirit touched my heart and I realized the significance of the woman that you marry. Starting at that time I began to pray that the Lord would find for me the woman who would be my eternal companion. Those prayers were answered, and all that we now enjoy in our family with children and grandchildren is largely responsible to her.
I’ve come to know that Jesus is our Christ, that His and the Father’s mercies are infinite and never ending, even when we’re not deserving. I’ve always loved the Prophet Joseph Smith, but it was my privilege to spend about 10 years in an intensive and extensive study of his life, of his writings, of his teachings, and of those who knew and loved him, and I came to know that here is a prophet of prophets, one who was worthy to bring about the Restoration of this last great dispensation. And I’ve come to know with great power that those keys that he restored have continued unbroken to this day and now reside in our living prophet, even Gordon B. Hinckley.
Again, we rejoice in this opportunity to serve. We are deeply humbled and greatly honored, and I leave that testimony with you in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I have one other thought I should like to express. Brigham Young was a great defender of the Prophet Joseph Smith. There were Judases in the ranks in that day, just as there were in the Savior’s day, and just as we have today, some who are members of the Church who are undercutting us, who are betraying their trusts. We are shocked when we see the places from which some of these things come.
Brigham Young was invited by some of these men who were trying to depose the Prophet Joseph from his position as President of the Church; but they made a mistake by inviting President Brigham Young into their circle. And after he had listened to what their motives were, he said something to this effect: “I want to say something to you men. You cannot destroy the appointment of a prophet of God, but you can cut the thread that binds you to the prophet of God, and sink yourselves to hell.”
There was a pugilist there by the name of Jacob Bump, so the story goes, who doubled up his fists and started toward President Young, who replied to this man’s threats: “I would like to lay hands on a man like you in defense of the Prophet Joseph Smith.”
Remember that, brethren. You cannot destroy the appointments of the prophets of God. The Lord knows whom he wants to preside in his church, and sometimes it takes a lot of practicing, guiding, testing, before he may know whether or not one of us is prepared for the present assignment.

I was so happy to meet President Nelson. When tickets became available for the event to meet the prophet, I made a phone call to our district president for a ticket, but he told me to wait. Later I prayed to God for a ticket and made a phone call to the district president again the next day and I got a ticket. I travelled with three other brothers by car to meet President Nelson in Bengaluru. On the way we stopped our car to have lunch in a village, where we met family members who were sad because their son had died, so we shared our testimony and told them that we were travelling to meet the living prophet, and later they felt so happy. When I met our prophet, I was so happy to hear the words which God instructed him to speak to us. I felt so blessed to hear God’s words. I was thankful to God for helping me to meet living prophet. —Prakash Prince (Chennai 1st Branch)

I learned something of how prophets feel about those who may be left on the outside looking in — or in other words excluded. It is a simple story, but one that for me conveyed a powerful message. Some years ago I had been asked to make a brief report to the Church Board of Education regarding some things that were being done here to allow more students to attend our school. (I notice from a recent press release that you continue working to make that happen.) I made my report with some emphasis on how many fewer had been denied admission during the current year than had been the case for the previous year. It was a significant number, in the thousands. In retrospect, I think I may have sounded more pleased with that progress than I wish I had. As the report was concluded, there seemed a momentary silence, and then President Hinckley asked: "What happened to the "few" who were still not admitted?" His thought was not about the many who were in, but rather about the few who were not. With prophets as with temples the point is the inclusion of all who wish it.

A few weeks ago, I flew to New York City to meet a new granddaughter. As my daughter and her husband met me at the door with their little three-day-old infant, there was an obvious radiance in that apartment. As they placed Hannah, who will be named after my mother, in my arms, she looked like a curled-up little doll with lots of dark hair. Within a few days, Hannah was stretching out her long legs and her long, thin feet, and I started to think of all of the things she will experience as she starts growing up. Perhaps she’ll have some of the same fears that I had—like being afraid to be alone in the dark at age six or seven. At age thirteen or fourteen, she may be sure, as I was, that there will never be boys as tall as she is. That concern was increased for me the following year when I became convinced that a person with feet as large as mine would surely never marry.
Those kinds of concerns are pretty normal, and the things that concern any of you would surely be concerns to me. But my greatest concern is that each one of you is growing in your spiritual understanding.
I have tremendous reverence for each one of you. My hope for you during these important years between the ages of twelve and eighteen is that you are going from being a dependent child to becoming a righteous, problem-solving woman of faith. It is a mighty work you do during these years, and when you do your work well, you will build a foundation for a responsible and righteous life.
When your leaders encourage you in the Young Women program to get involved with Personal Progress, I hope you will understand that this represents much more than goal-setting and receiving recognition, although that is very important. The greatest goal is that you would constantly choose experiences that would exercise or strengthen your faith in our Savior, Jesus Christ.
There is a chapter in the book of Alma—chapter 32—which seems to me to be written especially for young women. Alma teaches us how to exercise our faith and increase our belief in the words of our Heavenly Father. Would you go home and read this chapter and draw a circle around every time it says the word. Then read the first verse in the book of John where it says, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1; emphasis added). And then in verse 14, “And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth” (John 1:14; emphasis added).
In the book of John, the Word is referring to our Savior Jesus Christ. The prophet Alma, in teaching us about faith, helps us understand how our faith in Jesus Christ can be strengthened. Alma compares the word, or the gospel, encompassing our faith in the Savior, to a seed. In his words:
“Now, if ye give place, that a seed may be planted in your heart, behold, if it be a true seed, or a good seed, if ye do not cast it out by your unbelief, that ye will resist the Spirit of the Lord, behold, it will begin to swell within your breasts; and when you feel these swelling motions, ye will begin to say within yourselves—It must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it beginneth to enlarge my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me.
“Now behold, would not this increase your faith? I say unto you, Yea; nevertheless it hath not grown up to a perfect knowledge” (Alma 32:28–29; emphasis added).
Personal Progress is like an experiment on the word. There are experiences with prayer, scripture study, strengthening family relationships, and service to others. Exercising our faith will increase and strengthen it. As we watch the accomplishments of great athletes, it is surprising to me that some would suppose that our spiritual growth comes without effort when our physical ability requires exercise and training.
Now listen to the wonderful promise that is given to those who exercise their faith—who will continue to nourish the word:
“But if ye will nourish the word, yea, nourish the tree as it beginneth to grow, by your faith with great diligence, and with patience, looking forward to the fruit thereof, it shall take root; and behold it shall be a tree springing up unto everlasting life” (Alma 32:41; emphasis added).
Growing up spiritually requires faith, great diligence, and patience.
It takes maturity to look forward to those things that have eternal consequence.
In infancy, little Hannah responds to food when hungry. She responds to gentle voices and dry diapers. It will be some time before she realizes that her mother is reading the scriptures to her while she feeds her. It will be many, many months before she knows why heads are bowed and prayers are spoken at the dinner table. Yet her faith will begin to take root in this trusting environment. A little child can learn to respond to good feelings, but you are learning to take responsibility for your faith.
Listen to the words of three young women as each had experiences that provided a chance to exercise her faith.
[A video segment was shown in which several young women spoke of events and challenges in their own lives and the effect of those things on their faith.]
Each of these young women had a different kind of experience, but each chose to exercise and increase her faith. Sarah disregarded a feeling that what she was doing was wrong because of her eagerness to learn to drive. After a bad experience, faith gave her the motivation or the courage to evaluate her very frightening experience and make changes. Did you notice that at first she felt unworthy and unloved because she had made an unwise choice? She said she felt kind of worthless. Those feelings are normal after making a mistake, but she wisely evaluated what had happened and why it had happened that way. She reminded herself of her Heavenly Father’s love and what He would have wanted. She learned to listen to parents and acknowledge the feeling of warning. She recognized how she might use this understanding in another situation. This way every experience can become a growth experience. Our Heavenly Father wants us to overcome bad experiences and not remain stuck in our feelings of being unworthy.
The second young woman, Carly, experienced difficult family circumstances through a change in her father’s employment and a move to another state. She learned the value of family relationships and being together. Through united faith and prayers, she experienced the blessing of feeling our Heavenly Father’s love and support in bringing their family back together. Her faith was strengthened.
In the third story, Paulette had a different experience when she learned to accept an outcome that was not what she had hoped for. She knew about the great power of faith, a power that could move mountains, but when her friend’s mother died, she exercised her faith by trusting in Heavenly Father’s plan for us. Growing up spiritually requires us to see beyond our own desires and to enlarge our way of seeing things. We not only have to let go of our selfishness but sometimes let go of things we want very badly to come to understand our Heavenly Father’s point of view.
It is so important in this day that we each build an inner core of spirituality. As you exercise your faith and feel that spirituality grow, you will begin to feel more secure. You will feel more confident. Gradually we will come to more fully understand what it means to completely trust in our Heavenly Father and stand as a witness of God (see Mosiah 18:9). As we become righteous, problem-solving women of faith, we will learn to represent Him and do His work.
Three years ago I had another little granddaughter, named after me—Emily Janette. On the day of her blessing, I felt a tremendous desire for her welfare and a hope that the good things in life would come to her. In that instant, I thought of what it means when each one of us takes upon ourselves the name of Jesus Christ through our baptismal covenants. I have thought of His great desire for our welfare. I feel the love He has for the young women of His church. I have also thought of His great love and appreciation to you leaders—those of you who teach doctrine, who model righteous behavior, who provide an environment of trust where others can develop faith and practice righteous living.
I have a testimony of our Savior’s love for us. He understands our challenges. He will help us. We were intended to have experiences that will help us know good from evil. Most of us make mistakes. We can’t be perfect alone. The atoning gift of Jesus Christ allows us to let go of our weaknesses and be strengthened by His perfection. I bear my testimony of His atoning gift to us in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Even though I’m 12, I still love reading the Friend. If I am worried or feel unsafe, the Friend is always there. Not long after the December 2004 tsunami, my family and I were watching the news on television. There were pictures of children who lost their parents or who were lost themselves. I began to feel sick and shaky. I asked my brother to read the Friend to me. The Friend helped me stop shaking that night, and it has also helped me with other things. THANKS!Jessica C., age 12, Washington

When I was eighteen, my dad, my grandpa, and I went together to receive our patriarchal blessings. That was a spiritual highlight of my life. My grandpa was promised that if he remained faithful, he’d inherit the celestial kingdom. He was in his seventies then, so I knew where he was going to be. My dad received a wonderful blessing, and I did too. My spiritual heritage has given me a desire to do what’s right and to honor our family name. There have been many times in my life when I’ve been tempted to do wrong and thoughts of my father’s and grandfather’s goodness have prompted me to make better decisions.