Gospel Story Finder

Recently I received a letter from a friend of over 50 years who is not a member of our church. I had sent him some gospel-related reading, to which he responded: “Initially it was hard for me to follow the meaning of typical Mormon jargon, such as agency. Possibly a short vocabulary page would be helpful.”
I was surprised he did not understand what we mean by the word agency. I went to an online dictionary. Of the 10 definitions and usages of the word agency, none expressed the idea of making choices to act. We teach that agency is the ability and privilege God gives us to choose and “to act for [ourselves] and not to be acted upon.”1 Agency is to act with accountability and responsibility for our actions. Our agency is essential to the plan of salvation. With it we are “free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil.”2
The words of a familiar hymn teach us this principle very clearly:
Know this, that ev’ry soul is free
To choose his life and what he’ll be;
For this eternal truth is giv’n:
That God will force no man to heav’n.3
To answer my friend’s question and the questions of good men and women everywhere, let me share with you more of what we know about this meaning of agency.
Before we came to this earth, Heavenly Father presented His plan of salvation—a plan to come to earth and receive a body, choose to act between good and evil, and progress to become like Him and live with Him forever.
Our agency—our ability to choose and act for ourselves—was an essential element of this plan. Without agency we would be unable to make right choices and progress. Yet with agency we could make wrong choices, commit sin, and lose the opportunity to be with Heavenly Father again. For this reason a Savior would be provided to suffer for our sins and redeem us if we would repent. By His infinite Atonement, He brought about “the plan of mercy, to appease the demands of justice.”4
After Heavenly Father presented His plan, Lucifer stepped forward, saying, “Send me, … and I will redeem all mankind, that [not even] one soul shall … be lost … ; wherefore give me thine honor.”5 This plan was rejected by our Father, for it would have denied us our agency. Indeed, it was a plan of rebellion.
Then Jesus Christ, Heavenly Father’s “Beloved and Chosen [Son] from the beginning,” exercised His agency to say, “Father, thy will be done, and the glory be thine forever.”6 He would be our Savior—the Savior of the world.
Because of Lucifer’s rebellion, a great spiritual conflict ensued. Each of Heavenly Father’s children had the opportunity to exercise the agency Heavenly Father had given him or her. We chose to have faith in the Savior Jesus Christ—to come unto Him, follow Him, and accept the plan Heavenly Father presented for our sakes. But a third of Heavenly Father’s children did not have faith to follow the Savior and chose to follow Lucifer, or Satan, instead.7
And God said, “Wherefore, because that Satan rebelled against me, and sought to destroy the agency of man, which I, the Lord God, had given him, … I caused that he should be cast down.”8 Those who followed Satan lost the opportunity to receive a mortal body, live on earth, and progress. Because of the way they used their agency, they lost their agency.
Today the only power Satan and his followers have is the power to tempt and try us. Their only joy is to make us “miserable like unto [themselves].”9 Their only happiness comes when we are disobedient to the Lord’s commandments.
But think of it: in our premortal state we chose to follow the Savior Jesus Christ! And because we did, we were allowed to come to earth. I testify that by making the same choice to follow the Savior now, while we are here on earth, we will obtain an even greater blessing in the eternities. But let it be known: we must continue to choose to follow the Savior. Eternity is at stake, and our wise use of agency and our actions are essential that we might have eternal life.
Throughout His life our Savior showed us how to use our agency. As a boy in Jerusalem, He deliberately chose to “be about [His] Father’s business.”10 In His ministry, He obediently chose “to do the will of [His] Father.”11 In Gethsemane, He chose to suffer all things, saying, “Not my will, but thine, be done. And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him.”12 On the cross, He chose to love His enemies, praying, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”13 And then, so that He could finally demonstrate that He was choosing for Himself, He was left alone. “[Father,] why hast thou forsaken me?” He asked.14 At last, He exercised His agency to act, enduring to the end, until He could say, “It is finished.”15
Though He “was in all points tempted like as we are,”16 with every choice and every action He exercised the agency to be our Savior—to break the chains of sin and death for us. And by His perfect life, He taught us that when we choose to do the will of our Heavenly Father, our agency is preserved, our opportunities increase, and we progress.
Evidence of this truth is found throughout the scriptures. Job lost everything he had yet chose to remain faithful, and he gained the eternal blessings of God. Mary and Joseph chose to follow the warning of an angel to flee into Egypt, and the life of the Savior was preserved. Joseph Smith chose to follow the instructions of Moroni, and the Restoration unfolded as prophesied. Whenever we choose to come unto Christ, take His name upon us, and follow His servants, we progress along the path to eternal life.
In our mortal journey, it is helpful to remember that the opposite is also true: when we don’t keep the commandments or follow the promptings of the Holy Ghost, our opportunities are reduced; our abilities to act and progress are diminished. When Cain took his brother’s life because he loved Satan more than God, his spiritual progress was stopped.
In my youth I learned an important lesson about how our actions may limit our freedom. One day my father assigned me to varnish a wooden floor. I made the choice to begin at the door and work my way into the room. When I was almost finished, I realized I had left myself no way to get out. There was no window or door on the other side. I had literally painted myself into a corner. I had no place to go. I was stuck.
Whenever we disobey, we spiritually paint ourselves into a corner and are captive to our choices. Though we are spiritually stuck, there is always a way back. Like repentance, turning around and walking across a newly varnished floor means more work—a lot of resanding and refinishing! Returning to the Lord isn’t easy, but it is worth it.
As we understand the challenge of repenting, we appreciate the blessings of the Holy Ghost to guide our agency and Heavenly Father, who gives us commandments and strengthens and sustains us in keeping them. We also understand how obedience to the commandments ultimately protects our agency.
For example, when we hearken to the Word of Wisdom, we escape the captivity of poor health and addiction to substances that literally rob us of our ability to act for ourselves.
As we obey the counsel to avoid and get out of debt now, we use our agency and obtain the liberty to use our disposable income for helping and blessing others.
When we follow the prophets’ counsel to hold family home evening, family prayer, and family scripture study, our homes become an incubator for our children’s spiritual growth. There we teach them the gospel, bear our testimonies, express our love, and listen as they share their feelings and experiences. By our righteous choices and actions, we liberate them from darkness by increasing their ability to walk in the light.
The world teaches many falsehoods about agency. Many think we should “eat, drink, and be merry; … and if it so be that we are guilty, God will beat us with a few stripes, and at last we shall be saved.”17 Others embrace secularism and deny God. They convince themselves that there is no “opposition in all things”18 and, therefore, “whatsoever a man [does is] no crime.”19 This “destroy[s] the wisdom of God and his eternal purposes.”20
Contrary to the world’s secular teaching, the scriptures teach us that we do have agency, and our righteous exercise of agency always makes a difference in the opportunities we have and our ability to act upon them and progress eternally.
For example, through the prophet Samuel, the Lord gave a clear commandment to King Saul:
“The Lord sent me to anoint thee to be king … : now therefore hearken thou unto the voice … of the Lord. …
“… Go and smite Amalek, and utterly destroy all that they have.”21
But Saul did not follow the Lord’s commandment. He practiced what I call “selective obedience.” Relying on his own wisdom, he spared the life of King Agag and brought back the best of the sheep, oxen, and other animals.
The Lord revealed this to the prophet Samuel and sent him to remove Saul from being king. When the prophet arrived, Saul said, “I have performed the commandment of the Lord.”22 But the prophet knew otherwise, saying, “What meaneth then this bleating of the sheep in mine ears, and the lowing of the oxen which I hear?”23
Saul excused himself by blaming others, saying the people had kept the animals in order to make sacrifices to the Lord. The prophet’s answer was clear: “Hath the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken [to the commandments of the Lord] than the fat of rams.”24
Finally, Saul confessed, saying, “I have sinned: for I have transgressed the commandment of the Lord, and thy words: because I feared the people, and obeyed their voice.”25 Because Saul did not hearken with exactness—because he chose to be selectively obedient—he lost the opportunity and the agency to be king.
My brothers and sisters, are we hearkening with exactness to the voice of the Lord and His prophets? Or, like Saul, are we practicing selective obedience and fearing the judgments of men?
I acknowledge that all of us make mistakes. The scriptures teach us, “All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.”26 For those who find themselves captive to past unrighteous choices, stuck in a dark corner, without all the blessings available by the righteous exercise of agency, we love you. Come back! Come out of the dark corner and into the light. Even if you have to walk across a newly varnished floor, it is worth it. Trust that “through the Atonement of Christ, all mankind [including you and me] may be saved, by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the Gospel.”27
As the hour of the Atonement was upon Him, the Savior offered His great Intercessory Prayer and spoke of each of us, saying: “Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me.”28 “And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.”29
I bear my special witness that They live. When we exercise our agency in righteousness, we come to know Them, become more like Them, and prepare ourselves for that day when “every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess” that Jesus is our Savior.30 May we continue to follow Him and our Eternal Father, as we did in the beginning, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I don’t know what got into me that brisk autumn Sunday evening. My mom always said only Church magazines on Sunday and no television until “The Wonderful World of Disney.” But I never once heard her mention stealing pumpkins.

I went to visit a family I was assigned to home teach. Their middle daughter (who happened to be the love of my life) mentioned that they needed a jack-o’-lantern for the upcoming holiday. “There are no stores open,” I thought, “and even if there were we couldn’t buy one on Sunday.”

“Come with me,” she said, flipping her soft golden hair over her right shoulder. And then, the eyes. Those mischievous green eyes suggested that she had something in mind.

I know. We didn’t need eight pumpkins, but the collecting process was great fun. Some were at the end of the driveway, others on the front porch. Some victims owned dogs, big dogs, and others guns. Good heavens, we’d be shot for sure. We drove all over the township of Argyle, New York. A younger sister and a friend insisted on coming along, so the four of us, with the eight pumpkins, were very cozy in the small car.

Then came the Great Harvest Pumpkin. It was four feet wide and two feet tall and weighed 70 pounds. We spotted it in the moonlight, guarding an unlighted porch on the east end of the house. Leading to the monster was a crunchy leaf-covered sidewalk. The porch was old and creaky, and there was a dog, with a bark like a Doberman, hiding in the ominous shadow behind the house. People’s voices could be heard in the lighted west end of the house. This would surely be the pumpkin that would qualify us for the 1990 Olympic pumpkin-stealing team.

We tried to step where the leaves weren’t as we approached the porch, hoping that George house owner and Fang the dog would not discover our presence. We climbed onto the creaky porch, hugged the giant vegetable, and quietly strained to lift it. We wobbled down the sidewalk, ran a five-second 100-meter dash to the getaway car, and sped into the darkness.

Upon our arrival at home, we laughed, joked, and carved. Even then I knew it was wrong. But somehow it seemed okay because it was also fun.

A year later, I was a full-time missionary. On a cool autumn night, my companion and I were teaching the discussion that describes remorse, recognition, repentance, and restitution. Wow, that hit me. This plan sure was complete. I thought to myself, “Sure is a good thing I’ve never stol …” Suddenly I was filled with guilt. I had stolen something! Nine somethings! I was guilty! How could I restore those pumpkins? How could I remember where I had taken them from? I would get home two years after I’d stolen the pumpkins and two weeks after Halloween! Well, I figured, at least it would be great to be home for Thanksgiving.

“That’s it!” I said. “Pumpkins and Thanksgiving!”

One year, one month, and two days later, in Argyle, New York, my younger brother and I went to the store and bought nine pumpkin pies. I was somehow able to remember each house and how many pumpkins I had taken from each. Each one received the like number of confessions, apologies, and pies. That was the most humiliating thing in the world.

Almost. Because now, as I look back, I’m still embarrassed when I think about my attitude back then. Having fun didn’t excuse anything. How could I think it did? The one thing I am glad about is that the Lord prompted me to realize it and gave me the courage to do something about it.

“I spent eighteen years teaching and fulfilling my responsibilities as a priest,” says Hsieh. “I was very busy, but I wasn’t happy. I had had the opportunity to study in Europe; I had been a teacher, a student, a professor, a chaplain, a seminary director—my life was colorful—but there was a spiritual void.”
And there were rules and customs within the Catholic church with which Hsieh was uncomfortable, such as the ban on certain books—and he liked to read and study all he could. Another problem that bothered him as an ordained priest was the Lord’s statement: “It is not good that the man should be alone” (Gen. 2:18).
“This particular scripture became a vivid reality for me once when I was seriously sick and there was no one close to take care of me. I felt very alone. I realized the need for a companion to share my life. I decided then that being alone forever wasn’t right.”
This combination of feelings built up over time. Finally, in 1973, he asked to be released from his priestly vows. He resigned from Fu Jen University and was immediately hired by National Cheng Chi University in Taipei. There, one year later, Hsieh met, courted, and married one of his university assistants. He was about fifty years old at this time.
“But giving up the priesthood was difficult for me,” he says. “I had been a priest for so long. Now I had given up everything that I had lived for up to that point in time. I missed sharing my knowledge and understanding of the gospel, something I had been able to do as a priest. I thought about becoming a minister in another church that allowed priests to marry. But because of my belief in the Catholic church, I couldn’t make that change.”
Three years after his marriage, Hsieh was alone in his home when two young men knocked on his door. “They asked to talk to me, and I said I had no time and no interest in whatever they wanted to talk about.
“But as I thought about them, I became more curious. I wanted to know who they were and what they were doing in Taiwan, so I looked out from the balcony of my apartment and saw them going from door to door. I waited for a long time for them to come out of one of the apartments, and then I called to them to come back to mine.
“The first question I asked them was, ‘Are you missionaries?’ When they answered yes, I questioned them about their religion. Many of my questions were left unanswered, and I didn’t feel satisfied with our first conversation.
“That evening, as I discussed their visit with my wife, she reminded me of the Lord’s admonition to ‘beware of false prophets.’” (See Matt. 7:15.)
When the missionaries made a return visit, Hsieh was not going to let them in, but he didn’t want to be impolite. For the entire evening, Hsieh explained to the missionaries what true religion should be. He did not tell them that he had been a Catholic priest, but they felt encouraged by his knowledge of Christianity.
One of the missionaries, Donald B. Cenatiempo, wrote of the experience, “I felt as if we were the students and he was the teacher. We could tell he was a very intelligent and religious man.” The missionaries asked if they could return, and Hsieh said yes. The visits became a weekly ritual.
“I didn’t want to send them away,” Hsieh remembers. “I thought that if their church were true, it would have a prophet and continuing revelation. I asked them why their church didn’t have crosses or crucifixes, and they said, ‘Because Christ is risen; Christ lives. If one of your friends or parents dies,’ they said, ‘do you take out a photograph of them dead and show it to everyone?’ I was spiritually touched by the wisdom of their response.”
Hsieh started to read the Book of Mormon and the Doctrine and Covenants, which he especially liked because it is a record of the Lord speaking to man in these latter days. He asked for other books to read, and the missionaries gave him a copy of A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, by Elder LeGrand Richards.
“We told Brother Hsieh that it was possible for him to receive the priesthood and perform certain duties within that priesthood,” Elder Cenatiempo wrote. “Brother Hsieh understood as well as anybody could in his stage of spiritual progression what it would mean to hold the priesthood—the true priesthood of God.”
Hsieh explained to his wife what he had read, and she found it very interesting. Together, they began to study and pray for understanding. Eventually, Hsieh’s wife announced to the missionaries, “We have prayed and we feel it best to be baptized together.” They were baptized in December 1977.
In the years since that special event in their lives, they have developed strong testimonies that they enjoy sharing with others.
“We have always said that we would be willing to do whatever the Lord wants us to do,” says Brother Hsieh. “And we’ve always tried to use every opportunity and every talent he has given us to help build up the kingdom of God on the earth and to share the gospel message.”
Some unique opportunities have opened up to Brother Hsieh to do this. He has lectured seven times at the International Conference for Christian Professors. “They are interested in the Church because it is quite new and unique in modern Christianity,” he says. “The Lord has given me many opportunities to bear my testimony to these scholars.”
Currently, Brother Hsieh, a member of the Mu Cha Ward, serves as a high councilor in the Taipei Taiwan West Stake and has assisted in work on a second Chinese translation of the Book of Mormon.
“The gospel is the love of God,” he says. “It is important that all men and women hear this message. What we do, we do for the glory of God and the salvation of souls. Friendship is the method by which we share the gospel. The final goal for all is salvation and exaltation.”

From the time I was old enough to grip the handle of a broom, my dad gave me the weekend chore of sweeping the driveway in front of our house. Though it was a fair-sized driveway, the sweeping only took a half hour, and it wasn’t difficult. But once the driveway was cleaned, well, like any other kid who is anxious to complete a chore, I hoped it would stay that way. Forever.
Only one thing could ruin my handiwork with the broom: squirrels. With a beautiful eucalyptus tree hanging over most of the driveway, squirrels were often a problem.
A eucalyptus tree bears much fruit: woody, cup-shaped receptacles filled with hundreds of small seeds. For lack of a better name, we used to call them acorns. As a kid who was trying to sweep the driveway once and for all, it seemed as if there were millions of those acorns. And the squirrels loved to eat them. Now squirrels eating acorns aren’t, in and of themselves, a problem. It’s the way they eat them that’s the problem. You see, squirrels are real connoisseurs. They don’t eat the entire acorn, just a bite here and a bite there of the insides. The outside shavings and the rest of the insides that the squirrel doesn’t eat simply fall to the ground.
I could do a wonderful job sweeping up every acorn, leaf, and twig, and the driveway would look great. Then, after a squirrel munch-out, the driveway would look terrible.
The squirrels were having a field day at my expense.
I can remember looking up into the branches at what seemed like the entire family tree of the two original squirrels that accompanied Noah. I also remember giving them dirty looks, but they only looked down at me, unconcerned and very content with the distance between us.
This is where the bright green tennis balls enter into the story. Dad always had a large bucket of tennis balls that had seen better days on the courts months before.
How could I remedy the dirty driveway dilemma? Right, throw bright green tennis balls at the little rascals in hopes of scaring them away to another tree. I just thought that if I could scare them away I might never have to sweep the driveway again. I confess, I used to worry about what our neighbor next door, Mrs. McDonald, might think. She loved animals. In fact, every year for four years I would go around the neighborhood selling Little League Baseball raffle tickets. Mrs. McDonald would always buy one, but she would always sign the name of one of her cats or dogs on the tickets. Last year it was “Elsa” the German shepherd.
Swoosh!
I easily followed the path of the bright green tennis ball. It missed its mark but came close enough to scare the squirrel away.
“Check, check, check, check, check, check,” it cried.
If you wanted to look on the bright side, you could say that throughout my teenage years, my baseball throwing arm became stronger and more accurate.
On the not so bright side, the squirrels quickly became accustomed to watching those mysterious green projectiles fly past them. I never did succeed in scaring the squirrels away on a permanent basis. Every Saturday morning, the driveway had to be swept. Every Saturday morning I would be out there with the squirrels. And no amount of tennis balls would make it easier, regardless of how accurately I threw. I always ended up sweeping.
Eventually I learned an important lesson, one I have reflected on again and again. For many kinds of work, there aren’t any shortcuts. Even when a job is done right the first time, sometimes it needs to be done right again and again. That’s why it’s called a chore—not because it’s burdensome, but because it’s a duty.
Today, when I visit my parents, the eucalyptus tree still towers over the driveway. The squirrels are still there, and they’re still dropping the acorns. Sometimes, just for fun, I’ll hurl a green tennis ball in their direction.
Then I’ll go get the broom.

I collected pencils for children who need them. My mom’s friend said that at one school in Africa, seven kids had to share one pencil! I set up boxes around my school, sent home flyers, and even called everyone on the school phone list to ask for donations! Now my school wants to do the “Pencil Project” every year. I feel so good inside knowing I helped kids be able to learn.
Colleen N., age 11, North Carolina, USA

I thought I would never want to forget the hatred I felt that night. I was a high school junior with friends who were good examples and strong in the gospel. One evening, my friends and I decided to organize a scavenger hunt. Each of us asked a date to come along, and we met at a local park. We then spent two hours driving around the valley on a frantic search for old baseball cards, kitchen knives, and various other trinkets. After each couple had collected the necessary items, we all returned to the park.
As my friends and I were happily comparing the success of our scavenger hunts, a line of headlights turned into the park. I soon noticed a group of guys casually strolling toward us. While I sat talking with my date, one of them approached me. I became uneasy when I noticed his hand wrapped around the neck of a beer bottle.
At first, the stranger seemed rather friendly. He politely asked me what school my friends and I attended. As I began to reply, I felt a cold, wet splash against my shirt. Staring up in shock, I watched this stranger spray his beer onto our group. He then approached one of my unsuspecting friends and punched him in the face. As we stared, frozen in disbelief, the strangers ran back to their cars while tossing their bottles back toward us. We watched them turn out of the park and drive out of sight.
In the days following the incident, I was furious. I became even more bitter when I discovered that some of those guys attended our school. I found myself condemning them in my mind every time I was reminded of the episode. We found ourselves beginning to spread exaggerated accounts of the incident, and I felt a fire of hatred ignite for them. What I didn’t realize was that with every hateful thought and word I was polishing a heart that was becoming hard as granite.
A number of months later, I was planning a devotional for my seminary class. During my preparation, I found myself struggling to find a topic for my presentation. Frustrated, I opened my scriptures to Matthew. Midway through chapter 6, I read verse 15 [Matt. 6:15] which shone like a vivid light. It stated, “But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”
It was then I decided to focus my devotional on forgiveness. As I pondered this scripture and how it related to my life, I remembered the incident at the park. At that moment I realized how dark my spirit had become. As I pondered how difficult forgiveness was for me, I looked to Christ—mankind’s greatest example. I remembered as the Savior hung on the cross, looking down upon men who had just mocked, beaten, and were about to crucify him. I was further amazed when I realized that Christ not only forgave those who wronged him, but he died for their sins as well.
After thinking, I decided I would strive to set aside my judgmental nature and realize my own faults. I always try to remember that I have offended others as well. Because all people make mistakes, we as Heavenly Father’s children must focus on overcoming our own weaknesses rather than judging our neighbor’s shortcomings.
Although I still struggle to forgive the guys at the park, I now realize that they made a mistake which they may or may not regret. I know now that I have to forgive and move on rather than be held back by my anger.

Brother Paul himself was a convert to the Church. While in Nassau as consul general, he became interested in the Church, made inquiries, flew to Utah, and attended general conference there. Impressed by what he learned, he was referred to two LDS families living in the Bahamas—the McCombs and the Ballards. These families had been holding church services in their homes. Alexander Paul and his family were taught the gospel and baptized. It was then that he invited the Ferriers to investigate the gospel.

Finally! I’m at the end of this ordeal. I can get on with life! That’s exactly how I felt early the morning of my final day in the hospital. After four days of being tested, retested, poked, prodded, and squeezed, I was more than ready to “get outta here!”
I had been admitted to the hospital after suffering a collapsed lung. It happened while playing water football with a group of guys at the Austin Texas Fourth Ward picnic.
I’d have been just fine had I not tried to save the day for my team by attempting to tackle Kevin Horrocks. There I was, by far the skinniest guy in the ward, and big Kevin was on the fast track to score with only me left to stop him. The last thing I remember is being flattened and stuffed into the mud face first. Kevin was kind enough to assist me out of the ooze, but by then the damage had been done.
I had recuperated nicely and was to the point where the rest of my recovery could be handled at home. There was only one thing left to do—remove the chest tube which had been surgically implanted between two of my ribs.
It seemed a simple enough procedure. I was, however, a little curious as to why two doctors and three nurses had gathered in my room for the occasion.
“Are your ready?” the doctor asked.
“Doc,” I told him, “this thing has been in my chest for four days. I’m ready. Pull it!”
“Arrrggghhhrrrghhhggg!” It felt like my heart was being extracted instead of the tube. For a brief flash, I felt as if my body was being turned inside out. Though the experience was brief, I thought I was going to die.
The trauma having subsided somewhat, I asked, “Doc, why didn’t you tell me what that was going to feel like?”
He chuckled. “Because if I had, there is no way you would have let me take it out.” He was right.

Almost all the families living in the valley came on Valentine Day 1853 to see the ground-breaking ceremonies for the Salt Lake Temple, conducted by President Brigham Young. At the close of the service, after Brother Brigham turned the first shovel of dirt, many of those present rushed forward to do the same. Twelve year old Wilford Woodruff, Jr., joined his father and grandfather as they each “flung out dirt for this important temple.”

Two Temple Square missionaries sat in the well-worn pews of the Salt Lake Tabernacle, staring at a computer screen as I taught them how to upload their video footage to a video-editing program.
Then I had this moment hit me: here we were, using the internet and complex software, sitting inside a building that was built in the 1800s. So many amazing teachings have been shared in this building. Over the past 155 years, its audiences have heard from hundreds of notable speakers at its pulpit, including Brigham Young, 12 different presidents of the United States, Susan B. Anthony, and Helen Keller.
And now, in such a historic building, we were embarking on a new frontier in the Lord’s work, an innovation in missionary work: me, a YouTuber, helping missionaries learn how to create video content for social media.

Raymond and Gwen Petersen of Wyoming, USA, have served four missions. Their leaving on their second mission—to Samoa for the second time—was initially a challenge for their children, who didn’t understand why their parents needed to serve another mission.
The family quickly realized what great blessings came from their service. “They had all prospered!” says Sister Petersen. “One couple who had been unable to have children were blessed with a baby boy, another had a miraculous healing from cancer, another with a struggling child saw great progress, and others had their best year in business.”
Their hard work has left a trail of faith through their family line. “We have four grandsons on missions right now who tell us we were their inspiration to go,” says Sister Petersen. “What could be more rewarding than that?”

Anne, Lisa, Paula, Vicki, and Joanne.* They weren’t LDS, but they were nice girls; and since there were no LDS girls in my neighborhood when my family moved in, I was grateful they befriended me and took me into their group.
A few years later, in the sixth grade, we left our little elementary school and entered junior high. Right away, things started to change. Soon our conversations began to include fashions and boys. As our seventh grade year began, I noticed that my friends were treating me a little differently. I brushed it off, but then it got worse. There was whispering that ended abruptly when I joined the group, and more pairing up between the other girls. Joanne and Vicki seemed to splinter off more, and Anne, Lisa, and Paula spent a lot of time together, but what about me?
It hurt when I learned, one Monday morning, of Friday night’s slumber party at Anne’s house. “We thought you were too busy” was supposed to be an explanation for not inviting me. Another day we were all supposed to meet at the park, but when I got there one of the girls told me that another one of the girls was mad at me, and that I’d better go.
Christmastime came, and our usual Christmas gift exchange was planned. Usually we all got together and drew names, but since I hadn’t been around someone drew a name for me. I was to buy a gift for Paula. No one had drawn my name, and they were sure that I’d be too busy for the party, so they asked me to drop my gift off at the door.
I don’t remember whether I was more hurt or angry, but I do remember trying to think of all the mean ways I could get back at them. After some thinking, it occurred to me that being mean wouldn’t be right.
Maybe the best thing to do would be nothing at all. For a while I settled on ignoring them and their party until I realized that if I didn’t give Paula a present, they might think they were justified in treating me unkindly. I decided, finally, to give Paula something beautiful to show that I could rise above pettiness and be forgiving.
The prettiest wrapping paper I could find made a lovely lining and covering for a a dainty cut-glass perfume bottle, a miniature vase with tiny dried flowers in it, other dried flowers in doll-sized bouquets, all tied with ribbons.
The most important part of the gift was the inspirational poems that I copied, in my best handwriting, on pretty stationery. Each one was rolled like a scroll, tied with a ribbon, and carefully laid in the box. Finally, the covered lid was laid on the box and tied closed with a matching ribbon. I walked to Anne’s house, where the party was being held, gave someone my gift, and left. I felt good knowing that I had done the right thing; and from that time on, although I never rejoined that group of girls, they were never unkind to me.
We graduated from junior high and went on to high school. If we happened to meet in the halls, we always acknowledged one another with a friendly hello but rarely stopped to talk. In September after high school graduation, I went away to BYU.
I came home to visit during the Thanksgiving holiday that year, and I heard that the LDS students who were attending the local junior college had planned a Thanksgiving get-together at the Institute of Religion. Everyone who’d gone away to college and come back for the holiday was invited to attend. The institute was a pretty, old-fashioned building, and I admired the French doors, and terra-cotta tiles as I walked in. Then I looked up and saw Paula. She was waiting for me with tears in her eyes.
She threw her arms around me, and after a few minutes, she explained:
“After high school the missionaries came to my house and taught me the gospel. I was baptized just a few weeks ago, and I’ve been attending institute classes.
“We were so mean to you in junior high, and I felt so bad. I’m so sorry! I loved the box you made for me, and I kept it. I love the poems. They’re spiritual and beautiful, and I re-read them all the time.”
I sure had some exciting news to tell my parents when I got home that night! Sometimes rewards for doing right come immediately, but other times not for years. I was so relieved that I hadn’t given in to my angry feelings so many years before and done something unkind. Sometimes we never learn of the good we’ve done, though the effects of our good deeds may span many lifetimes. I was glad that, during that Christmas season so long ago, I’d chosen a gift of love, a treasure, that Paula could now more fully share.

The Stevenson family lived in Japan for several years. In 2004 Elder Stevenson was called as president of the Japan Nagoya Mission. Following his call to the Seventy in 2008, he served as a counselor and president in the Asia North Area. He was serving as Area President in 2011 when a major earthquake struck off the coast of northern Japan, triggering a massive tsunami that killed thousands. That experience proved to be a defining moment in his life.
Elder Stevenson helped shape the response of the Church, which provided food, supplies, support, and longer-term assistance.
“That was a manifestation of the Church of Jesus Christ filling one of its divinely appointed responsibilities of caring for the poor and needy,” he recalls. He said it was a sacred privilege to “minister, and bless, and organize assistance.”

I like sports a lot, especially football. I was very excited when Jacksonville, Florida, got a professional football team, the Jaguars. Each time the players signed autographs, I asked my parents to please take me to see the players. I began collecting cards and knew all the players’ statistics.
When the games began, I was offered many really, really good seats to their games for free. But they were always on Sunday! One day, I asked Mom if I could go to a free game on a Sunday. She said that it was up to me. I needed to pray about it.
I remembered all the happy feelings that I’d had when I went to baptisms in our ward. My dad was ward mission leader, and we went to many baptisms. Each time I went, I was very happy and could hardly wait for my own baptism and then to be given the gift of the Holy Ghost.
When I prayed about going to the Sunday game, I felt so much happiness and peace because I could tell my mom that I didn’t want to go to that game.
Not long after that, I was given tickets to a game that wasn’t on Sunday. Dad took me, and we had a great time, especially when the Jaguars won. I am baptized now, and I know that by keeping my baptism covenant, I will always have peace and happiness in my life.
Hannah Mandel, age 10Orange Park, Florida

Shortly after this call came to me, I was traveling by plane from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, to Salt Lake City. A young businessman stepped to my seat in the plane and introduced himself as a Latter-day Saint. He asked if I was traveling to attend meetings, and I answered, “Yes.”
“Will you see President Benson?”
“I think that is unlikely in view of the nature of the meetings.”
“When you see him, will you tell him that though we have never met, I have a deep love for him?”
He returned to his seat.
It was late in the day; soon the lights were dimmed, giving me ample opportunity to think about that experience.
Brothers and sisters, there is great safety in having a love for the Brethren.

A few years ago my older brother was on a foreign exchange trip in Moscow, Russia. At that time, a prominent Russian political leader had been saying things against the Church. My mom and I were worried for my brother’s safety. He was staying with a family we didn’t know much about, and we worried what they would think. We didn’t know what the Russian people’s reactions toward the Church and toward my brother would be.
We decided to pray. In fact, we said many prayers that night. When it was time for me to go to bed, I said one more prayer for my brother. I had the feeling that I should read my scriptures. When I opened them, the first scripture that I saw was D&C 98:1–3. The verses read:
“Verily I say unto you my friends, fear not, let your hearts be comforted; yea, rejoice evermore, and in everything give thanks;
“Waiting patiently on the Lord, for your prayers have entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth, and are recorded with this seal and testament—the Lord hath sworn and decreed that they shall be granted.
“Therefore, he giveth this promise unto you, with an immutable covenant that they shall be fulfilled; and all things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good, and to my name’s glory, saith the Lord.”
This scripture was a definite answer to prayer. It seemed like Heavenly Father was talking directly to me—that the scripture was written just so that I could find it more than 150 years later. I went upstairs to show my mom. When she read it, tears welled up in her eyes. We both knew that everything would be okay. We knew that Heavenly Father had control over the situation.
Sure enough, the president of Russia defended the Church, and the Russian government leader apologized for what he had said. Soon afterwards, my brother returned home safe and sound.
I am so grateful to Heavenly Father for helping me find that scripture and for giving my mom and me comfort in our time of need.

When my brother, Keb, was a teenager, he regularly helped the elderly in our neighborhood. At Christmastime he made three-dimensional Christmas tree cakes, the kind that take forever to decorate because each branch has to be frosted separately. His present to me came when he asked me to help him secretly deliver the gifts to our neighbors. We carefully placed each gift so it would be found, and then we ran. Boy, did we run! And we were never caught. His example of service is something I can never repay or replace.
—Anita Brady Bergman

A few weeks later I called my friend’s mom again. This time it was to invite her and her family to my baptism. Along with the other books I’d read, I had now read the Book of Mormon and gained a testimony of its truthfulness. I invited my own family to attend my baptism as well. My twin brother came into town the night before. He didn’t understand why I wanted to get baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He asked a lot of questions, especially about the Book of Mormon. The only things he’d ever read about the book were false and negative. I stayed up most the night attempting to answer his questions.
The baptism was beautiful. This time I didn’t show up in a T-shirt and cargo pants. This time I was in a white shirt and tie, and I felt totally comfortable and at home.

The notebook describes projects, such as making homemade bread and delivering it to nonmembers living near the meetinghouse along with a card that read, “Merry Christmas from your neighbor, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” The bread was delivered by caroling seminary students. “The surprise and joy of most of the people was great,” Sabina said. “We invited the people to our meetings, too. We contacted 37 families in this way.” Many of the families responded by sending gifts of chocolate, nuts, oranges, and cookies, along with thank-you notes, to the seminary group. “This helps pave the way for the missionaries,” Sabina said.

As I navigated life after my parents’ divorce, I learned that Jesus Christ really is the ultimate source of peace and hope.
Christ’s healing power is real. For years, I didn’t talk to my dad. I tried to forget what he had done. I begged for Christ’s grace to help me let go of my anger. The Spirit helped me understand what to do, and eventually, I was able to forgive him. Our relationship, while still recovering, was instilled with new life.
Easter is a reminder that through Jesus Christ, hope will conquer despair, life will conquer death, and light will conquer darkness. Choosing to follow Him is the decision that shapes my life—not one made by someone else.