Gospel Story Finder

“We left off last night at the beginning of Mosiah, remember?” Dad said.
During family scripture study, everyone usually had a turn to read. Nine-year-old Elise read from the Book of Mormon very well. Braydon was six and needed just a little help. Josh sat on Dad’s lap, and Dad whispered a few words for Josh to repeat.
It was Mom’s turn first tonight. After Mom read, Elise began reading with Mosiah 2:6:
“‘And they pitched their tents round about the temple, every man having his tent with the door thereof towards the temple, that thereby they might remain in their tents and hear the words which King Benjamin should speak unto them.’”
Elise stopped reading. She didn’t turn the page even though everyone else did. Dad looked at her as if to say, “Go on, honey.” A big smile came over Elise’s face.
“Dad, was King Benjamin kind of like a prophet?” she asked.
“Yes. We read the other night that he was a holy man who reigned over his people in righteousness.”
“Mom and Dad, do you think since tomorrow is general conference, we could pretend to be King Benjamin’s people and make a tent to listen to the prophets on TV?” Before her parents could answer, Elise was excitedly dancing around the room.
“Yeah!” Braydon said, brightening.
Josh crawled off Dad’s lap to skip with Elise.
Mom and Dad looked at each other. “Do you mean a tent made of tables and blankets and chairs?” Mom asked.
“Yes, a really big tent,” Elise said. “But there has to be a door to watch conference on TV.”
“Hmm,” Mom said. “We need to be listening to conference, not playing and making noise.”
Elise sat down.
“We could pretend it was hard to hear and we’d have to be really quiet to listen,” Braydon said.
“Just like the people trying to hear King Benjamin from the tower,” Elise added. “We promise we’ll be quiet and listen.”
“We could even call it a ‘reverence tent,’” Braydon said.
“Our conference reverence tent!” Elise beamed.
“That’s starting to sound like a fun idea,” Dad said.
“Hurray!” Josh cheered.
“Let’s get some things ready tonight,” Mom said.
After scripture study, Dad, Elise, Braydon, and Josh got busy setting up the “reverence tent.” They started with the long table that was used for big family dinners. They added the card table, some chairs, and lots of blankets, and connected it all to the couch. There was plenty of room inside for snacks and supplies for taking notes.
Most importantly, there was a big wide-open door facing the TV so the children could hear and watch general conference.
Elise, Braydon, and Josh helped color a sign that read “Reverence Tent.” “It’s to remind us to be quiet and listen, Dad,” Braydon said as they pinned it onto the blankets.
“Let’s bring in our scriptures,” Elise suggested.
“Great idea,” Braydon said.
They crawled in to look around. “Mom,” Braydon called, “come and see!”
“Wow!” Mom said as she came into the room. Mom had been busy gathering last year’s conference Ensigns, notebooks, scissors, glue sticks, pens, and crayons. She took out the General Authority charts from the old Ensigns and said that during conference Elise and Braydon could cut out and glue onto their notes the picture of the person who was speaking.
“I’ll help Braydon take notes,” Elise volunteered.
“And I’ll help Josh color a picture of the prophet,” Braydon said, smiling at Josh.
“I’m really excited about the talks,” Elise said.
“And the music,” Braydon added.
“General conference will bring a wonderful spirit into our home,” Mom said.
“This is going to be a great conference,” Dad agreed. “I know the Spirit will speak to each of us as we listen.”

Dylan understands how important preparation is. He tries to get to church 15 minutes early to spiritually prepare to pass the sacrament. “I’ve passed the sacrament three or four times, and each time the Spirit touches my heart. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,” he said.

Soon Dr. Kim was president of the Korea District of the Church’s Northern Far East Mission. He helped the Church gain legal recognition in South Korea so that missionaries could serve there, and he even rented a house where they could stay. Members and investigators met there often to discuss the gospel with the elders.

As a full-time missionary I have the opportunity to read the Liahona (Spanish) and to share copies with others.
One time, my companion and I were approached by a young man who asked if we would give him any copies of the Liahona we had finished reading. He explained that he likes to read the Liahona because he learns much from the experiences and counsel published in the magazine.
As we left to get him a copy, we asked him which ward he belonged to. He replied that he was not a member of the Church but had been reading the Liahona for quite some time because members of the local branch had shared it with him. We asked if he wanted to know more about the Church, and eventually, after hearing the missionary discussions, he was baptized.
This new convert continues to read the Liahona because, as he says, the words of the prophets “really apply to our lives.” The messages in the Liahona are not just for members; they are for everyone.
Elder Moctezuma Meza,México Guadalajara Mission

President Hinckley told the Saints that as a young boy he would often look into the night sky to find the North Star. “From looking at that star I learned a great lesson which has remained with me throughout my life,” he said. “I learned that there are fixed and constant points by which we may guide our lives.” He encouraged members to use unchanging gospel truths the same way in their own lives.
“What President Hinckley said with respect to the Polar Star, making reference to the fixed points in our lives to guide us, remains etched in my heart,” said David Muñoz of the Los Altos Branch, Puerto La Cruz Venezuela Stake.

One of the great blessings the people of this Church have is to meet with the bishop once each year, settle their tithing, and report that what they have paid in contributions constitutes a tithe. It is also a great blessing for the bishops to have this experience. I remember a man in our ward who had a large family who would bring all of his children with him when he came to tithing settlement. Starting with the youngest, he would ask each one to report to the bishop as to whether their contributions constituted a tithe. When all of the children had reported, he would report for his wife and his family. This family was abundantly blessed for their faithfulness.

Molly held five tickets in her hand as she walked to school. Every Monday, Mom gave her tickets to buy milk at lunch. But lately Molly had lost her tickets before lunchtime. Today Molly was determined to not lose her tickets. When she got to school, she carefully put the tickets in her pocket before playing on the slide.
When the bell rang, Miss Martin came outside. The children began to give her their milk tickets for the week. Molly put her hand in her pocket, but the tickets were gone! Molly’s heart sank. She knew Mom would be disappointed.
Molly panicked as she moved closer to Miss Martin. She decided to make up a story so she wouldn’t get in trouble. She said to her teacher, “A boy took my tickets.”
Miss Martin looked surprised. “Which boy, Molly?” she asked.
Molly’s eyes searched the playground and found an older boy kicking a ball. She pointed at him. “That boy! He took my milk tickets.”
Miss Martin told Molly to go to the classroom while she talked to the boy. Molly felt awful. She hadn’t meant to get the boy in trouble.
All Molly could do all morning was worry. But she knew if she told the truth, she would be in trouble for lying.
As Molly was going to recess, the principal stopped her and asked her to come to his office.
“Oh no!” she thought. “He knows I lied, and I’m going to be in trouble!”
But the principal talked to her nicely and asked her to tell him what happened that morning. Molly said the boy had taken her milk tickets.
“Are you sure that is what happened, Molly?” the principal asked.
She nodded. The principal told her she could go to recess.
As Molly left the office, she saw the boy sitting in the hall. He looked like he had been crying. Molly knew how much trouble she was causing, but she was too scared to tell the truth.
After school Molly walked home slowly, feeling worse with every step. When she got home, Mom said, “Molly, the principal called.”
Molly couldn’t stand it anymore. She started to cry, and she told Mom the whole story.
“Molly, this is a very bad thing you’ve done. Do you understand that?” Mom said.
“Yes.” Molly really did understand.
“What do you think you should do?” Mom asked.
Molly knew she had to tell the truth. But what if the principal got angry? What if Miss Martin didn’t like her anymore? Molly didn’t know if she had enough courage. But then she thought about the boy she had gotten in trouble, and she knew she had to be brave.
“I want to go back to school,” she told Mom.
Mom held Molly’s hand as they walked back to school. The principal listened carefully.
“Molly, I am disappointed in you,” he said. “But I am glad you decided to tell me the truth. I know it wasn’t easy.”
While they were walking home together, Mom said, “Molly, I am proud of you for telling the truth. But what else do you think you need to do to make this right?”
“I need to apologize to that boy,” Molly said.
“Right,” Mom said. “I can drive you over to his house tonight.”
Molly’s heart got a little lighter. “Mom, do you think we should make him some cookies too?”
Mom hugged her. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

Three weeks later, on December 27, 1847, about a thousand Saints from settlements along the Missouri River gathered for a special conference. They had built a log tabernacle for the occasion on the east side of the river at a place later called Kanesville. The building was larger than any cabin in the area, but it could not hold everyone who wanted to attend.
Inside, the Saints sat shoulder to shoulder on hard log benches. Though the winter had been intensely cold so far, when the Saints arrived at the log tabernacle the weather was unseasonably pleasant. The day before, Heber Kimball had promised them that if they attended the meeting, they would have one of their best days ever and a fire would be lit that would never go out.35
On a platform at the front of the room, the apostles sat with the Winter Quarters high council. The meeting opened with singing and prayer, followed by sermons from some of the apostles and other Church leaders. Orson Pratt spoke about the importance of the First Presidency.
“The time has come when the Twelve must have their hands liberated to go to the ends of the earth,” Orson said, certain now of the Lord’s will. “If there is no First Presidency, it confines the Twelve too much to one place.” Reorganizing the presidency, he testified, allowed the Church to turn its eyes to the distant parts of the earth, where thousands of people could be waiting for the gospel.36
After the sermons, it was proposed that Brigham Young be sustained as president of the Church. The Saints then raised their hands in unison to sustain him. Taking the stand, Brigham proposed that Heber Kimball and Willard Richards be sustained as his counselors.
“This is one of the happiest days of my life,” he told the Saints. The road ahead would not be easy, but as the Saints’ leader, he would dedicate himself completely to fulfilling the Lord’s will.
“I will do right,” he promised. “As He dictates, so I will perform.”37

I think I know how you feel. I have many times felt like killing myself and even tried once, which I regret to this day. It was miserable physically as well as emotionally, and I found out that dying wasn’t at all what I was looking for. I just wanted the pain to stop. Even though I still feel like killing myself at times, I have found that receiving professional help and meeting with a member of the bishopric (or even a close friend as long as he or she doesn’t join in feeling sorry for me) make things easier. You also need to start looking at your good qualities. Whenever you feel like killing yourself, take out a piece of paper and write down ten of your good qualities.
As for a reason for continuing to live, I have found that it helps to think that if you died that you would be letting yourself down—you would never know who you would marry, who your future friends would be, or if you could have licked your problems.
To keep your mind off feeling depressed, get involved in a fun activity.
Most of all, you have to remind yourself that you can do anything you set your mind to. This may seem like a bunch of wishful thinking, but I know from experience that it works—believe me, if it didn’t, you wouldn’t be reading this letter right now.
Name withheld

The future of none of the prophets, however, was signaled more clearly than that of Heber J. Grant. While he was a small boy, he often attended Relief Society with his mother. On one such occasion, after the regular meeting had concluded, Eliza R. Snow, the sister of President Lorenzo Snow, gave blessings to all present by the gift of tongues, with Zina D. Young interpreting. In tongues Sister Snow also prophesied that Heber J. Grant would someday be an apostle of the Lord. On another occasion President Heber C. Kimball, a close friend of President Grant’s father, took the young boy up, sat him on a chair, and talked with him. According to the story later told President Grant by his mother:
“He prophesied in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ that you [Heber] should become an apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ and become a greater man in the Church than your own father; and your father, as you know, became one of the counselors to Brigham Young.”
However, none of these prophecies were quite so impressive to President Grant as the vision that he had shortly after being called to the apostleship in 1883. In this vision he saw his father, Jedediah Grant, the Prophet Joseph Smith, and the Savior, and he also saw the decision made to send the revelation for his call to the Council of the Twelve—this when he was twenty-six years of age.

One thing Bill positively was not going to do was lose his cool when he talked to Dad. He was sensing a new power in their discussions when he could smother back his flaring irritations and cover them with a quiet, logical tolerance of Dad’s opinions. Not that he was giving in, mind you, or changing his stand; after all, he was 15 and capable of making his own decisions, but it was important to convince Dad he was right.
Ridiculous, all this hassle about just wanting a Saturday off for the beach. Doug Anders and Tommy Martin went every Saturday without feeling the least bit guilty—and most Sundays, too, for that matter. Why was it always different for him? Bill knew well why it was different. The Church—that was why. Doug didn’t even go to church, and Tommy only went on Easter and Christmas. Their Saturdays weren’t full of building-fund paper drives, work projects for the widows, or setting up chairs for meetings. Not that Bill would trade places with them. No, the church was important in his life, and he valued it, but this Saturday was something else.
“Hope you’re getting right at the lawn, Bill.” Mother’s voice floated down from the upstairs window. “Dad said it was a must as soon as you got home from school. It will only take a minute if you get going.”
A minute, ha! Little did she know about pushing that mower through the thick, tough grass in the heat! Probably more like an hour. Bill kicked a mud clod into the flower bed with his ragged tennis shoe, dropped his books, and slumped on the cool grass to rest. He sank deep—kinda high all right—should have been cut last week, and it was a cinch Dad had been too busy to do it. He plucked a long blade of grass and twisted it slowly between his thumb and finger. Why did Dad have to be so dedicated to the max—always heading a Church project, going to a meeting, or worrying about someone’s problems when he had a little spare time. And expecting Bill’s help with it! Being the oldest wasn’t always what it was cracked up to be.
“I don’t hear much action down there, dear. Would you like a sandwich or something before you start?” Mom’s voice dripped with sweetness and Bill sensed her effort at nonirritation. He sighed, struggled to his feet, and went for the lawn mower.
It wasn’t so bad once he got started, and as the blades whipped around he started rehearsing ways of convincing Dad about Saturday.
“You see, Dad, it’s like this. There’s a problem about my helping Saturday. Now, it isn’t that I don’t understand—I know you’re on the welfare committee and that your kid should be there helping with the clothing drive. And I realize, too, that I’ve promised the bishop he could count on me. But all that was before Tommy told me about the beach and the surfboard.”
Not quite strong enough, Bill thought, and started again.
“Look, Dad. I know it’s going to be a pain for you, but I won’t be there to help Saturday. It’s time I start doing more with my friends. They’re beginning to think I’m always working on a project. Friendship is important, too, and I’m going to the beach with them.”
That should be convincing, he thought, and smothered a twinge of conscience. Using the friendship angle was taking advantage. Dad was a sucker for friendship. But it was true. Lately there was a definite gap in his closeness with his best friends, Doug and Tommy. They had been so alike all through school, and now it was uncomfortable being the different one, the one making excuses for not trying new, experimental things, the one going to church instead of the drags—the one still in the Scout program that they had given up long ago. Well, he didn’t have to be the one giving up his Saturday for a clothing drive!
The mower hit a rock and froze. Furiously Bill spun it loose and calmed his frustrations with giant shoves into the green mat of grass. Not that he hadn’t tried to share the Church with his friends, Bill reminded himself. But Tommy’s parents objected, and although Doug had showed interest for a while, weekends at the beach had won. And the gap between them was getting bigger. Only yesterday at school Doug had made the situation clear. They were leaning against the old elm tree by the cafeteria, trying to figure a way out of dressing for gym when he brought it up.
“Guess there’s no use asking what you’re doing Saturday.”
“What do you mean—no use asking?” Bill questioned.
“Oh, come off it. You know you’re always tied up with some weird thing or another. My cousin is taking me to the beach for some surfing pointers on his new board. Not any of this wimpy stuff like we do. He really knows how. I can bring you and Tommy, he said, but I knew most likely you’d have something to do for your Dad.”
“Who says I have to do anything? I can go if I want.”
“Well, all right, do you want?”
Tommy joined them just then.
“Well, how about it? Are you on for Saturday?”
“I’ll think about it. After all, I’m picky about who I spend my time with.”
“You said a mouthful,” Tommy added, “and it sure doesn’t seem to be us anymore. You’re getting to be a real drag.”
Bill finished the last swatch of grass, pushed the mower into the garage, and picked up the rake. It hadn’t taken as long as he thought. Mom was right after all. Exposing the clipped green carpet as he heaped the grass into piles brought a warm satisfaction that made him uncomfortable. Why should there be any pleasure in such an obnoxious job? Mom appeared at the back door with two frosty glasses of lemonade, and the warm feeling heightened as she sat next to him on the step, sipping and exclaiming about the beauty of the freshly cut lawn. He fought back the satisfaction and revived his misery.
“Mom, don’t you think a guy deserves Saturday off when he goes to school and works all week?”
“Well, I most certainly do,” she agreed. “Every boy needs some time for himself. You know I always let you off if your chores are done.”
“And don’t you think it’s important to keep in with the guys—you know, be one of them—not an outcast?”
“Of course, it’s important, dear. I’ve always encouraged you to have a lot of friends. Do you have a problem?”
He wished she wouldn’t be so confounded agreeable. It wasn’t giving him any practice for Dad. And, yes, he did have a problem. It would be the same old issue with Dad about what should come first. Church responsibility and dependability would end on top with Dad, and Bill would be dangling at the other end about Saturday. He knew the decision would be his own. Dad was fair that way, but it was uncomfortable when they didn’t see eye-to-eye, and past experience had taught him well what Dad’s way would be. He remembered the years through Scouting when football games at school were scheduled on the same Saturday as a merit badge hike. Dad always managed to help him find a way to make them both—even if it meant long drives to catch up with the Scouts. And it had been the same with the talent show and school play. When rehearsals interfered with Church meetings, they always found away to cover them both with a few short cuts and Dad being there with the transportation. Yes, Dad’s way was definitely on the side of participation and dedication to Church responsibility!
“Better get the rest of the grass picked up,” Mom called through the open window above the grinding garbage disposal. Bill was hardly aware she had gone inside. Always that gentle nudge to get going. Didn’t a guy even have thinking time these days? Well, he would hit Dad with Saturday as soon as he came home and get it over with. Still, his sister was always saying it paid to save the gripes until after dinner, and she did seem to have a way with Dad. He heard the car in the driveway and decided in favor of the waiting. It was a mistake. After dinner Jamie grabbed Dad for help with a math problem, then two telephone calls brought home teaching problems, and he was off to a Scout council meeting. Bill was asleep long before he returned.
“So, what’s the score? Are you, or aren’t you?” Doug mumbled between chomps on his hamburger at lunch the next day. “Not that I really care, just curious.”
“Yeah, what are you trying to do—play hard to get?” Tommy added. “Anyone would think you’re something special.”
Bill squirmed. “Give me a break, you guys. I’ve gotta think. Just because you wimps have nothing more to do than lay in the sun getting burned to a crisp, doesn’t mean everyone can. Someone’s gotta run the country, you know.”
“Well, that does it!” Doug smashed his milk carton and sent potato chips flying, “Let us know when you make up your mind!”
There were no two ways about it though. Tonight he would have to talk to Dad first thing. But Dad was late for dinner, and Bill had to leave for a basketball practice, so it still wasn’t settled. Walking home alone in the moonlight after the practice, he churned the situation in his mind and rehearsed again what he would say to Dad when he got home. It was convincing, he decided, but Dad would have a hard time understanding; since his kicks came from heading projects and doing for people. He didn’t have conflicts and things pulling him in a lot of different directions.
As he neared home and approached the driveway, he could see the garage light burning and Dad inside. At last, an opportunity to get him alone! He hurried up the driveway, but slowed as he neared the door and saw Dad standing over in a far corner—just standing there. Odd, his being there alone just standing, as busy as he was. Bill hesitated and then walked quietly to the doorway for a better look. There was something different about Dad. He looked tired and even a little sad.
Bill had never seen him like that before. The cover protecting a weathered terminal apparatus had been folded back, and he was scrutinizing it with wistful eyes. He finally began gently fingering a screw. Dad had started that invention a year ago. He liked building things and even had a special set of expensive tools that none of them were allowed to touch. He always had an idea for a new invention and Mom kidded him about finishing some of them. Strange he didn’t spend more time in the garage if he had such a craze for it. Why didn’t he? What was his problem? Bill stared at his father again, and then, slowly, a penetrating light, a flood of understanding, began to surface. Why, Dad had to make choices, too! All those trips to the mountains to catch him up with the Church group was time he could have been spending on his inventions. All the nights waiting in the car to take him from one meeting to another could have been enjoyed in the garage. And the way he honored his priesthood in accepting calls and helping people! A wave of guilt surged inside Bill making it hard to breathe. He hadn’t even said thanks for all those catch-up trips! Dad glanced up and smiled. “Well, hello there! Sorry I didn’t get home before you left for basketball. Mother said you wanted to see me about something.”
“I … a … well … I … a … was just wondering what I could do to help you get ready for the clothing drive Saturday.”
Dad walked over and put his arm around his shoulder. “You don’t know what that means to me, Bill. I’ve been wondering how I’d ever get all the calls made to remind the boys about coming. If you could take on a few after school tomorrow, it would really help. I appreciate your continual support so much!”
They walked slowly toward the house together, and there it was again—that maddening warm, satisfied feeling!

I already had a desire to serve a mission, but I was so moved by the October 2001 Liahona (English) that I felt I should begin serving a mission immediately. October 2001 was the first month of our subscription, and already I like the Liahona very much.
Allwyn Arokia Raj Kilbert,Coimbatore First Branch, Bangalore India District

Elder Norman Seibold leaned forward in his seat. He was anxious to hear what his mission president would say at the emergency meeting in Frankfurt, Germany.
In 1939, German soldiers were marching in the streets and it looked like war would break out at any moment. Elder Seibold knew that the First Presidency had ordered all missionaries to evacuate from Germany and Czechoslovakia. His mission president, President Wood, had told the missionaries to go to the Netherlands.
But now President Wood said there was a big problem. The Netherlands had just closed its border to people leaving Germany, and the missionaries needed to evacuate to Denmark instead. But since the telephone lines were clogged with emergency calls, President Wood couldn’t contact the missionaries throughout Germany to tell them about the change in plans.
Even if the mission president could contact the missionaries, there was another problem. The military would not allow anyone fleeing Germany to travel with more than 10 marks (about $2). The missionaries had already bought train tickets for the Netherlands and had spent most of their money to be obedient to the law. Now they wouldn’t have enough money to buy new train tickets for Denmark. They were stranded!
“Thirty-one missionaries are stranded between here and the border of the Netherlands with no way of contacting me,” President Wood said. “Someone needs to find them and bring them safely to Denmark.”
Elder Seibold volunteered.
President Wood gave the brave elder 500 marks and train tickets to Copenhagen, Denmark. His special assignment was to ride the railway lines between Frankfurt and the border of the Netherlands, searching for the stranded missionaries. The direction of the Spirit would be his only guide.
After four hours on the train, Elder Seibold reached Cologne, Germany. He felt impressed to get off the train there. The busy station was filled with thousands of people anxious to flee Germany. How could he find any missionaries in such an enormous crowd?
Elder Seibold climbed onto a baggage cart and whistled the hymn “Do What Is Right,” which was a well-known signal to gather missionaries. Eight missionaries in the station heard that whistle, and Elder Seibold sent them safely to Denmark.
At some stops, Elder Seibold stayed on the train. At others, he was prompted by the Spirit to get off and whistle for stranded elders. At every station, Elder Seibold risked that the military would find him and put him in jail for travelling with so much money.
At a station in one small village, Elder Seibold didn’t think he would find any missionaries. But the Spirit told him to get off the train and walk into town. He went inside a restaurant and found two elders who had just spent their last pennies on lemonade. Elder Seibold knew he had been guided there, just as surely as if someone had taken him by the hand.
Eventually Elder Seibold rescued 17 missionaries. The other 14 had reached the Netherlands before the border was closed, but Elder Seibold continued searching until he received a spiritual confirmation that his assignment was complete. Because Elder Seibold obeyed the promptings of the Spirit, all 31 missionaries were safe.

Ryan’s dad is a Cub Scout leader, and he also helps out with the Boy Scouts in the ward. Ryan accompanies him on some of the campouts and activities that he might otherwise have to wait a few years to participate in. After Hurricane Hugo struck near Charleston, South Carolina, the Scouts from the Hugheses’ ward decided to see if there was anything they could do to help. Brother and Sister Hughes, Joshua, and Ryan went with the Scouts, and Ryan learned a great deal about people serving one another.

A second element of the framework is that we receive personal revelation only within our purview and not within the prerogative of others. In other words, we take off and land in our appointed runway. The importance of well-defined runways was learned early in the history of the Restoration. Hiram Page, one of the Eight Witnesses to the Book of Mormon, claimed to be receiving revelations for the entire Church. Several members were deceived and wrongly influenced.

In response, the Lord revealed that “no one shall be appointed to receive commandments and revelations in this church excepting my servant Joseph Smith … until I shall appoint … another in his stead.” Doctrine, commandments, and revelations for the Church are the prerogative of the living prophet, who receives them from the Lord Jesus Christ. That is the prophet’s runway.

When my dad was in the military, we moved a lot. But one thing I know is that everywhere we go, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints will be the same. This made moving so much easier for me.
Rylan W., age 9, New Mexico, USA

Here’s what keeping a broad perspective looks like for me:
If there’s something I’m really excited to cook, but the utensils I need to make it are dirty, I have no problem washing them. My excitement for good food overpowers my distaste for scrubbing out pots and pans.

Jeremy Carver (9) was born in northern Virginia. He played soccer and baseball there and explored the nearby fields and beaver pond. And he went with his family on trips to the zoo, to Civil War sites, and to places in Washington, D.C.
Then Jeremy and his family left their house in the Virginia countryside and moved to an apartment on the nineteenth floor of a skyscraper in Hong Kong, a British dependency leased from the People’s Republic of China. Hong Kong is a huge international trade center, and from the patio of his home, Jeremy can overlook the beautiful harbor there.
Jeremy soon had favorite plant, fruit, pet, and juice vendors in his new neighborhood. They and other people he meets are fascinated by his hair because it is so much lighter than theirs. About 98 percent of the people in Hong Kong are Chinese, and Jeremy got to be in an ice-cream commercial when a foreign child was needed in it.
One trip was a ferry ride to a nearby island where a Buddhist monastery is built on the top of a mountain. Other trips have included a drive to the farms and small villages near the Chinese border. But whether it’s a family-home-evening walk in the neighborhood or a longer excursion, Jeremy loves to meet the people of Hong Kong and have them as his friends.

In 2020 the Church celebrated the bicentennial of Joseph Smith’s First Vision, not with a grand celebration but with Church leaders inviting Latter-day Saints across the globe to learn to hear the voice of the Lord better and more often. In an April 2020 general conference talk, President Nelson presented a historic proclamation, “The Restoration of the Fulness of the Gospel of Jesus Christ: A Bicentennial Proclamation to the World” (see “Hear Him,” Liahona, May 2020, 91–92).

The pressure on youth to conform to the majority view can be intense, says Juani’s 22-year-old brother-in-law, Jorge Parra, who recently returned from serving in the California Anaheim Mission. He did not attend his own graduation from secondary school, he recalls, because some classmates had threatened to hold him down afterward and force him to drink liquor. Fortunately, the pressure is usually not so overt for LDS youth who make it clear they intend to stick by their standards, but there may always be a sense of isolation from some of their peers.