Gospel Story Finder

“CQ … CQ (calling any station) … This is N7NGT, November seven November golf tango. Calling CQ from the state of Wyoming and standing by.”
The static of the radio fills the silence. Then the 16-year-old, red-haired girl, call sign N7NGT, leans over the microphone, presses the button, and repeats her call to the world on her father’s ham radio.
For a moment she wonders, Is anyone out there listening?
Does anyone want to talk to Shauna Richards in Rock Springs, Wyoming?
A moment later a voice answers Shauna’s call. In fact, in a little over an hour Shauna talks to people in Australia, New Zealand, Japan—all over. These people all have amateur radio licenses. They also have their own lingo, called Q signals. Shauna enjoys talking to strangers, who quickly become friends, about what their lives are like and what they like best about their hometowns. And in emergencies, they use their radios to relay messages out of the emergency area to comfort worried relatives and friends when other methods of communication fail. Ham radio is a good hobby for someone who likes to talk. And Shauna likes to talk.

Obstacles to sharing your testimony may include uncertainty about what to say. Matthew Cowley, an early Apostle, shared this experience as he departed on a five-year mission at age 17 to New Zealand:
“I will never forget the prayers of my father the day that I left. I have never heard a more beautiful blessing in all my life. Then his last words to me at the railroad station, ‘My boy, you will go out on that mission; you will study; you will try to prepare your sermons; and sometimes when you are called upon, you will think you are wonderfully prepared, but when you stand up, your mind will go completely blank.’ I have had that experience more than once.
“I said, ‘What do you do when your mind goes blank?’
“He said, ‘You stand up there and with all the fervor of your soul, you bear witness that Joseph Smith was a prophet of the living God, and thoughts will flood into your mind and words to your mouth … to the heart of everyone who listens.’ And so my mind, being mostly blank during my … mission … , gave me the opportunity to bear testimony to the greatest event in the history of the world since the crucifixion of the Master. Try it sometime, fellows and girls. If you don’t have anything else to say, testify that Joseph Smith was the prophet of God, and the whole history of the Church will flood into your mind.”

“When Reverend Price, my predecessor, first came here as a young rector, there was no village school for the children. A few of the wealthier families sent their children into Oswestry on the train to attend school, but most of the children went without formal instruction. Mabel married Arthur Jones about that time. She moved into Bwlch Farm and was soon involved in the community. It concerned her no end that all the young children here were illiterate. She approached Reverend Price to see if they could do something about it. This was what they came up with.”
Reverend Lloyd opened the thick wooden door into a small room containing one large wooden desk, a large old oak chair, and half a dozen small chairs and tables. On the wall were faded maps, pictures of wild animals, and the alphabet.
“For ten years this was the Bwlchycibau schoolroom. Mabel would come and teach the children of the village three mornings a week. She received no pay for it. She just did it because she saw a need. There are many farmers around here now who wouldn’t be reading if it weren’t for Mabel Jones.
“When the county finally built a school in the village and sent us a certified teacher, Mabel still stopped by once a week to read to the children. I think it was the highlight of the week for them all.”

At one point, Graydon and Donna, who had been bringing up the rear with their father, stepped into some quicksand—more accurately, water-saturated sand. Graydon quickly leaped free, but Donna struggled too hard and was soon in the bog up to her waist. Graydon and his father couldn’t pull her out, and the others were too far ahead. But Chris Jones, who had arrived later in the day and started the hike with a friend, caught up to them from behind like the Cavalry. Between the four men, a branch, and stepping stones that kept sinking in the mud, she was extricated, a little shaken after the half-hour ordeal. “Guess I don’t have to find those scissors to cut your legs off,” Chris laughed, trying to cheer her up.

How many of us get frustrated and impatient when we are forced to stop for 5 or 10 minutes because of road construction on Kamehameha Hwy? "Why does this have to happen to me?" e ask ourselves, or "I'm already late to my appointment. Will this construction ever finish?"
Well, I reacted that way all the time until my chiropractor in Kaneohe scheduled me for 3 visits a week for 12 consecutive weeks. I knew I had to find a way to endure those construction stops that occurred two or three times each way. As I stopped at each road block, I turned my head to the left and right of the highway and started noticing more than just the road construction. The wide angle lenses were on my soul and I saw how beautiful the scenery was on either side of Kamehameha Hwy. I wondered to myself, "How did I miss it all these years before?" I saw attractive houses and yards I had never noticed before. The ocean had its own personality and characteristics at different points along the Kam. Highway route. I even noticed the rock formations that seemed to change on a daily basis. And instead of envisioning a pontoon bridge right across Kahana Bay, I saw several hues of green and blue in its depths and on some days the surface was so still it was like a mirror was laying on the surface. It is a gorgeous bay!

The Koolau mountain range had so many ridges sculpted by years of erosion that it created a different appearance each time you viewed them depending on how the sunlight was hitting them at various times of the day. I even discovered a major landslide deep in the mountains of Kahana Valley that could only be viewed from a certain angle as I turned the corner from Crouching Lion. I began to gain a deeper appreciation for the wonders and beauty of the windward side of Oahu. I always knew Hawaii was beautiful but it wasn't until I had to stop at those many road blocks did I begin to develop a love and sense of humble gratitude for God's creation of these islands. I looked forward to my trips to Kaneohe because I was drinking in the beauty of this island from my saucer.

Religion was an important part of our lives in Nigeria. My husband, Okoro, and I had great faith in Jesus Christ and loved Him. After we moved to Sweden, all our time was consumed when our twins were born three months early. We lived for four months in the hospital and didn’t go to any church at that time.

Later, we wanted to go to church again, but we did not find a church that felt right for us. We wanted a church that our whole family could attend for all our lives and forever. This desire continued for two years, but we were bothered that we had gotten out of the habit of going to church and praying together as a family.

When the children were a year old, I was out during a terrible snowstorm so I could attend school and learn Swedish. I heard someone call out from behind me. When I looked back, I saw two beautiful young women. I didn’t understand what they were saying, but I did recognize the words “Jesus Christ.”

When they realized I did not speak Swedish, they asked, “Do you speak English?” When I told them I did, they said, “We want to talk to you about Jesus Christ.”

“What about Him?” I asked. “I know Him!”

They laughed and were so excited that they walked up to me. I was impressed and eager to know what they had to say. They said they were missionaries of Jesus Christ, and I agreed to meet with them again and talk more about Jesus. As I left, I felt happy. When I looked back at them, they were just standing there radiating the same joy I was feeling.

When she found the Church, Sister Okoro-Omaka “shed beautiful tears because I was so happy to be coming back to my Savior.”
When I came home from school, I said to my husband, “Sweetheart, guess what. I have found the church where we are going to be members!” I was shivering, I was so excited. I did not know where all these feelings were coming from, but I was happy deep in my heart about meeting the missionaries.

Soon we began learning about the restored Church of Jesus Christ with the missionaries. I shed beautiful tears because I was so happy to be coming back to my Savior. I had no questions about what they taught us until we came to the Book of Mormon. I had a hard time believing anything about it. The missionaries, however, asked me to read the Book of Mormon and pray about it. I prayed sincerely every day for weeks to know if it was really the word of God, but I never read it.

After several weeks without an answer from God, I boarded a train for a trip to Stockholm. On the way, I pulled out the Book of Mormon and began to read.

I read the introduction and the Testimony of Three Witnesses and Eight Witnesses, and I read about Joseph Smith. I was reading it and reading it and reading it. By the time I got to Stockholm, I was crying, shivering, and covered with goosebumps. I felt overwhelmed with the Spirit of God. I knew from personal revelation who Joseph Smith truly was—that he was a prophet and a servant of God. I knew that the Lord had restored the gospel of Jesus Christ to the earth through him.

I then believed all that the missionaries had told me. Once I had read the Book of Mormon for myself, I knew it was true. I told the missionaries I wanted to be baptized. My husband brought our whole family to show their support for me.

After my baptism, we started praying together again as a family, and I began teaching them about what I was learning. Eventually, Okoro asked to meet with the missionaries again. He embraced their teachings, read the Book of Mormon, and prayed about it. He received the same answer I had, and he also asked to be baptized. At last, our whole family was united in our forever Church.

For Brother and Sister Okoro-Omaka, reading the Book of Mormon was key to their conversion.

But, like many of you, I did have a job. My father worked in the construction business, building homes, and he frequently enlisted my three brothers and me to help him. The work was hot and demanding; there were times when I really didn’t want to be working. But we had schedules to keep and projects to complete, so we worked hard each day until the job was done. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, working with my family taught me a number of lessons.
Building homes takes a lot of time, effort, and precision. One area where I thought we didn’t need to be as exacting was in digging the footings for a house. My father thought differently.
To lay the foundation for a home, you first have to dig and pour the footings. Footings are pads of concrete that are wider than the foundation. Once the footings are poured and cured, you pour the foundation on top of the footings. Then you backfill dirt over them.
I often wondered if it really mattered that the footings were perfectly square. After all, with dirt covering them, no one would ever see them, and it wouldn’t weaken the support structure of the home. But my father still wanted the footings square and flat, measured correctly and carefully, and he did this with every home he built.
Looking back, I realize that my father treated everything he did in his work with the same care, even for things the owner would never notice. His careful attention to detail meant that people could trust him to do good work, and he had the satisfaction of knowing that his work was the best quality and that the owners would appreciate it.

Many years ago, I was first counselor to a district president in the eastern United States. More than once, as we were driving to our little branches, he said to me, “Hal, when you meet someone, treat them as if they were in serious trouble, and you will be right more than half the time.” Not only was he right, but I have learned over the years that he was too low in his estimate. Today I wish to encourage you in the troubles you face.
Our mortal life is designed by a loving God to be a test and source of growth for each of us. You remember God’s words regarding His children at the Creation of the world: “And we will prove them herewith, to see if they will do all things whatsoever the Lord their God shall command them.”
Since the beginning, the tests have not been easy. We face trials that come from having mortal bodies. All of us live in a world where Satan’s war against truth and against our personal happiness is becoming more intense. The world and your life can seem to you to be in increasing commotion.
My reassurance is this: the loving God who allowed these tests for you also designed a sure way to pass through them. Heavenly Father so loved the world that He sent His Beloved Son to help us. His Son, Jesus Christ, gave His life for us. Jesus Christ bore in Gethsemane and on the cross the weight of all our sins. He experienced all the sorrows, the pains, and the effects of our sins so that He could comfort and strengthen us through every test in life.
You remember that the Lord said to His servants:
“The Father and I are one. I am in the Father and the Father in me; and inasmuch as ye have received me, ye are in me and I in you.
“Wherefore, I am in your midst, and I am the good shepherd, and the stone of Israel. He that buildeth upon this rock shall never fall.”
Our prophet, President Russell M. Nelson, has also given that same assurance. Moreover, he described a way we might build upon that rock and put the Lord’s name upon our hearts to guide us through our trials.
He said: “You who may be momentarily disheartened, remember, life is not meant to be easy. Trials must be borne and grief endured along the way. As you remember that ‘with God nothing shall be impossible’ (Luke 1:37), know that He is your Father. You are a son or daughter created in His image, entitled through your worthiness to receive revelation to help with your righteous endeavors. You may take upon you the holy name of the Lord. You can qualify to speak in the sacred name of God (see D&C 1:20).”
President Nelson’s words remind us of the promise found in the sacramental prayer, a promise our Heavenly Father fulfills as we do what we in turn promise.
Listen to the words: “O God, the Eternal Father, we ask thee in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those who partake of it, that they may eat in remembrance of the body of thy Son, and witness unto thee, O God, the Eternal Father, that they are willing to take upon them the name of thy Son, and always remember him and keep his commandments which he has given them; that they may always have his Spirit to be with them. Amen.”
Each time we say the word amen when that prayer is offered on our behalf, we pledge that by partaking of the bread, we are willing to take upon us the holy name of Jesus Christ, always remember Him, and keep His commandments. In turn, we are promised that we may always have His Spirit to be with us. Because of these promises, the Savior is the rock upon which we can stand safely and without fear in every storm we face.
As I have pondered the covenant words and corresponding blessings promised, I have wondered what it means to be willing to take upon us the name of Jesus Christ.
President Dallin H. Oaks explains: “It is significant that when we partake of the sacrament we do not witness that we take upon us the name of Jesus Christ. We witness that we are willing to do so. (See D&C 20:77.) The fact that we only witness to our willingness suggests that something else must happen before we actually take that sacred name upon us in the most important sense.”
The statement that we are “willing to take upon [us]” His name tells us that while we first took the Savior’s name when we were baptized, taking His name is not finished at baptism. We must work continually to take His name throughout our lives, including when we renew covenants at the sacrament table and make covenants in the Lord’s holy temples.
So two crucial questions for each of us become “What must I be doing to take His name upon me?” and “How will I know when I am making progress?”
The statement of President Nelson suggests one helpful answer. He said that we could take the name of the Savior upon us and that we could speak for Him. When we speak for Him, we serve Him. “For how knoweth a man the master whom he has not served, and who is a stranger unto him, and is far from the thoughts and intents of his heart?”
Speaking for Him requires a prayer of faith. It takes a fervent prayer to Heavenly Father to learn what words we could speak to help the Savior in His work. We must qualify for the promise: “Whether by mine own voice or by the voice of my servants, it is the same.”
Yet it takes more than speaking for Him to take His name upon us. There are feelings in our hearts we must have to qualify as His servants.
The prophet Mormon described the feelings that qualify us and enable us to take His name upon us. These feelings include faith, hope, and charity, which is the pure love of Christ.
Mormon explained:
“For I judge that ye have faith in Christ because of your meekness; for if ye have not faith in him then ye are not fit to be numbered among the people of his church.
“And again, my beloved brethren, I would speak unto you concerning hope. How is it that ye can attain unto faith, save ye shall have hope?
“And what is it that ye shall hope for? Behold I say unto you that ye shall have hope through the atonement of Christ and the power of his resurrection, to be raised unto life eternal, and this because of your faith in him according to the promise.
“Wherefore, if a man have faith he must needs have hope; for without faith there cannot be any hope.
“And again, behold I say unto you that he cannot have faith and hope, save he shall be meek, and lowly of heart.
“If so, his faith and hope is vain, for none is acceptable before God, save the meek and lowly in heart; and if a man be meek and lowly in heart, and confesses by the power of the Holy Ghost that Jesus is the Christ, he must needs have charity; for if he have not charity he is nothing; wherefore he must needs have charity.”
After describing charity, Mormon goes on to say:
“But charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him.
“Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ; that ye may become the sons of God; that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is; that we may have this hope; that we may be purified even as he is pure. Amen.”
My testimony is that the Savior is putting His name in your hearts. For many of you, your faith in Him is increasing. You are feeling more hope and optimism. And you are feeling the pure love of Christ for others and for yourself.
I see it in missionaries serving all over the world. I see it in members who are speaking to their friends and family members about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Men, women, young people, and even children are ministering out of love for the Savior and for their neighbors.
At the first report of disasters across the world, members make plans to go to the rescue, sometimes across oceans, without being asked. They sometimes find it hard to wait until the devastated areas can receive them.
I realize that some of you listening today may feel that your faith and hope are being overcome by your troubles. And you may yearn to feel love.
Brothers and sisters, the Lord has opportunities near you to feel and to share His love. You can pray with confidence for the Lord to lead you to love someone for Him. He answers the prayers of meek volunteers like you. You will feel the love of God for you and for the person you serve for Him. As you help children of God in their troubles, your own troubles will seem lighter. Your faith and your hope will be strengthened.
I am an eyewitness of that truth. Over a lifetime, my wife has spoken for the Lord and served people for Him. As I’ve mentioned before, one of our bishops once said to me: “I’m amazed. Every time I hear of a person in the ward who is in trouble, I hurry to help. Yet by the time I arrive, it seems that your wife has always already been there.” That has been true in all the places we have lived for 56 years.
Now she can speak only a few words a day. She is visited by people she loved for the Lord. Every night and morning I sing hymns with her and we pray. I have to be voice in the prayers and in the songs. Sometimes I can see her mouthing the words of the hymns. She prefers children’s songs. The sentiment she seems to like best is summarized in the song “I’m Trying to Be like Jesus.”
The other day, after singing the words of the chorus: “Love one another as Jesus loves you. Try to show kindness in all that you do,” she said softly, but clearly, “Try, try, try.” I think that she will find, when she sees Him, that our Savior has put His name into her heart and that she has become like Him. He is carrying her through her troubles now, as He will carry you through yours.
I bear you my witness that the Savior knows and loves you. He knows your name as you know His. He knows your troubles. He has experienced them. By His Atonement, He has overcome the world. By your being willing to take His name upon you, you will lift the burdens of countless others. And you will find in time that you know the Savior better and that you love Him more. His name will be in your heart and fixed in your memory. It is the name by which you will be called. I so witness, with gratitude for His loving-kindness to me, to my loved ones, and to you, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

When David was a boy, he dreamed of playing professional baseball. He thought the greatest moment of his life would be to hit the game-winning home run in game seven of the World Series.

When he was older, he changed his mind about this dream. One day Elder Haight was sitting with his wife and three children—one of whom was about to be married—in a sealing room of the Los Angeles Temple. Looking around the room, he thought, “David, you had your priorities all mixed up. Being a hero in a worldly event isn’t the great moment of life. … The great moment … is here, … because all I have that is really important is in this room. All of my children are committed to the Church.”1

It was odd, Andrew thought as he looked in the mirror and tried to force the cowlick at the back of his head to lie flat; he was actually looking forward to tonight’s “date.” He hadn’t been enthusiastic about it at first, but now that it was almost time to go, he was excited.
His friend Jim had suggested a “practice run” before his big date with Alyssa Adams, his first since turning 16 last month. Jim said if they were going to double then Andrew needed practice—“so you won’t act like a goon and spill soup on your date or something.” Andrew agreed because (1) he didn’t have his driver’s license yet and Jim did; (2) he was nervous about going on his first date with a girl he really had a crush on; and (3) Jim had been on a couple of dates already, so he must know what he’s talking about.
Andrew talked to his dad about the idea too, and he agreed that practice might be a good idea. “Besides,” he said, “I know just who you should ask. She’d love to do something like that.”
At first, his father’s suggestion—and his enthusiasm—caught Andrew off guard. But dad persisted. “You’ve known her since … well … forever. She’s fun, and she’ll understand. She’s the kind of person who has as much fun playing ball with the guys as she does dressing up and going to dinner. She won’t even mind that she’s helping you get ready for a big night with somebody else.”
“You mean I have to tell her why I’m asking her out? That’ll make it worse,” Andrew said, ready to forget the whole thing.
“Of course you do; it’s only fair. Besides, if she knows ahead of time, she’ll probably be able to give you some pointers. I’ve seen her, and she’s pretty knowledgeable about those kinds of things. You’d feel rotten if she found out later that the only reason you asked her out was to practice for a date with someone else.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Andrew said reluctantly.
Nevertheless, Andrew still felt nervous when he thought about asking someone else out so soon. It had been murder trying to find the courage to ask Alyssa out. Now he was faced with the problem of having to ask someone he’d known all his life, and it wasn’t any easier. What if she laughed at him or told him his idea was dumb? He felt he had to do it, though, and after school one day he worked up the nerve to ask her.
“Hi,” he said, almost choking because his mouth was so dry.
“Oh, hi Andrew,” she said, looking up from her book. “What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing much, but I was wondering, uh, are you doing anything special Friday night?” he asked, looking everywhere but at her.
“I don’t think I’ve got anything planned. Why do you ask?” Finally he looked directly at her. “Well, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind going to dinner with me?” He looked at her for a change in expression. What showed looked more like surprise. “It wouldn’t be a real date,” he said quickly. “It would be sort of a practice date. I’ve never been to dinner with a date before, and I want to make sure I do it right.”
There was a pause, and Andrew didn’t know whether or not to keep talking. Suddenly, however, she smiled. “Sure! That sounds like fun. I’d love to.”
Soon the “rehearsal” was under way. They planned to go to La Traviata, the same Italian restaurant he and Jim would be taking their dates to next week. As they made preparations it became painfully apparent that Jim had been right all along. Andrew needed this trial run more than he thought. But she seemed to know exactly what to do. First, she helped him call and make reservations.
“What do I say?” he asked as he nervously dialed the number. “Just say, ‘I’d like to make reservations for two at eight o’clock tonight, and then tell them your name when they ask.”
“She says things so easily,” he thought. “I wish I had her confidence.” Then she helped him pick out the clothes he was going to wear. He had picked out his best pair of blue jeans, his favorite shirt and his cleanest, basketball shoes. She wisely chose the gray Sunday slacks with the blue blazer and firmly insisted that while inflatable shoes were quite fashionable in the gym, they were out when it came to dinner at a nice restaurant.
Finally, with his help, she took some plates and silverware from the cupboard and created an elegant setting on the kitchen table.
“Wow,” Andrew said, sitting down to the beautiful array of china and silverware in front of him. “I think I know some of this stuff,” he said, swallowing hard. “But maybe you could help me with a pointer or two. What’s this tiny little knife for?”
She gave Andrew a description of all the various utensils and their uses. She talked about the proper way to handle a salad and where the bread goes—everything. She even reminded him that it was not a good idea to tuck the napkin under his collar, or use his thumb to slide a stubborn vegetable onto his fork as she had seen him do before. He thanked her and said he’d try to remember.
She continued her explanation, but Andrew was only half listening. As he watched her he couldn’t help feeling like a jerk for using her to impress another girl. He noticed, probably for the first time, how pretty she was and how much effort she was going to in order to make things nice for him. What made it worse was that she had been so cheerful and enthusiastic about it from the beginning. She approached this like she approached so many things, happily and without a thought for herself. She was doing it all for him and he knew it. She really was a good friend, better than most, he thought. This date was going to be fun for both of them, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty about it.
“Huh, what?” he said, quickly aware he had drifted too far.
“I said, ‘This fork is for seafood,’” she said, teasingly shaking it at him. “You use it on things like crab or shrimp cocktail, and no, there’s no alcohol in shrimp cocktail so it’s okay to eat. That about wraps it up. Any questions?”
“Nope, no questions, but it sure is a lot to remember.”
“Don’t worry. As a rule, you use the utensils on the outside and work your way in as you go. If you absolutely don’t know what to do, watch your date or the people at the table next to you. They might be able to help you out.”
“Got it,” he said.
“Good. Now I’ve got to rush or I’m going to be ‘unready’ for this ‘undate.’”
Andrew waited a bit before getting ready, then dressed quickly and found he still had a few minutes before it was time to leave. He went to the backyard and picked out the prettiest rose he could find. He carefully picked it as far down the stalk as he could and then bent the thorns off the stem. He resisted the temptation to put one of the thorns on his nose and play rhinoceros. He walked around the block, up the front steps, and rang the doorbell.
“Wow!” he said when she opened the door.
“Hi, Andrew. What do you think?”
“You look beautiful,” he said, visibly impressed.
“Thank you very much. You look rather handsome yourself. Good choice of wardrobe, if I do say so myself.”
“Thanks a lot,” he said, smiling back. “Oh, here,” he said, remembering the flower in his hand. “This is for you.”
“Why, Andrew, how sweet. Thank you. Let me put it in a vase.” She returned a moment later. “Are you ready?”
“Sure. Let’s go!”
At first, the rehearsal appeared to have worked. He offered her his arm, opened the car door, and let her in on the driver’s side since she had the driver’s license and he didn’t. They talked and laughed on the way to the restaurant, and when they arrived he was quick to get the door and offer an arm to his “undate.”
“I’m impressed,” she said, while walking to the door with her arm in his. “Someone must have taught you well.”
“Yeah, I had a pretty terrific teacher,” he said, smiling.
Suddenly, Andrew tensed and tried to look away, but it was too late. Their eyes had already met. Directly in front of them stood Ryan Adams, the captain of the basketball team and, worse, Alyssa Adams’s big brother. He was leaving the restaurant with his date.
He had seen them together and Andrew was positive he was going to hear about it at practice next week. Not only that, but Alyssa was sure to find out, and trying to explain would only make things worse. In an instant he made a decision. He’d tough it out. “Hi, Ryan,” he said.
“Hi, Andrew. How’s it going?”
“Fine. How’s the dinner?”
“Terrific. Watch out for the antipasto, though; it’s a killer.” Ryan rolled his eyes and pretended to spray some breath freshener into his mouth.
“I’ll think about it. Thanks.”
“See ya.”
“Bye.”
Andrew breathed a sigh of relief as he opened the door to the restaurant and they walked inside. At least he didn’t say anything then, he thought. He could only imagine what he was going to say at practice Monday.
The dinner was excellent, a true dining experience, and Andrew handled himself extremely well. He thought the dinner was over, though, when the waiter brought out small servings of sherbet for them. The waiter had to explain that the sherbet was merely a “palate cleanser,” something to eat so the taste of the previous course wouldn’t interfere with the taste of the next. Other than that, he managed to impress her by remembering everything she had taught him. He even proved to be a very good conversationalist by asking questions and paying attention to what she said.
At the end of the meal when the waiter presented the check, she reached into her purse and tried to pass some money to Andrew under the table. “For my half,” she said quietly.
“No way,” said Andrew. “I invited you here and I’m going to pay for it.”
“I just thought that since this was a “nondate” it might be different.”
“It’s not that different. Besides, with the way you’ve helped me I’d say it was worth every penny.”
He paid the waiter and left an adequate tip. They left the restaurant and he opened the car door again for her. “You’re spoiling me,” she said as she got in. “I might get used to this.”
“I suppose I could make it a habit. I probably should have all along, huh?”
“That’s okay. You haven’t done too badly. You’ve become quite a gentleman. Alyssa Adams is in for a treat.”
“Thanks.”
She pulled the car into the driveway and he escorted her to the door.
“Thanks for going along with my ‘trial-run’ idea. It really helped.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for a wonderful evening. There’s just one thing, though.”
“What’s that?” he said, wondering what he could have done wrong.
“Don’t worry about Alyssa’s brother seeing you with me tonight. I’m sure he recognizes that his sister will be treated with as much courtesy as I received. If he’s any kind of brother, I think he’ll like that. I don’t think Alyssa will mind either. If you treat all your dates as I was tonight, you’ll have a lot of fun dating.”
At first, Andrew was surprised that she knew what he had been thinking at the restaurant when he saw Ryan. Then he realized he wasn’t surprised at all. He put his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek.
“Thanks, Mom,” he said. “You’re terrific.”

Roger had been a valuable employee throughout his successful career. But company ownership changed, the workforce was reduced by 25 percent, and Roger’s position was eventually eliminated. Though he had not anticipated losing his job, he never dreamed he’d have a difficult time finding work as an engineer.

Roger’s former employer provided the assistance of a professional outplacement firm. The firm assured him that with his expert skills and valuable experience, unemployment wouldn’t last long. Although Roger dutifully searched the job market and distributed copies of his résumé, days turned into weeks and weeks into months, and Roger became discouraged. “I felt extremely frustrated, knowing I was capable and experienced enough to provide for my family, yet being unable to find an opportunity to do so,” he remembered. After more than seven months of unemployment, funds from Roger’s severance package were gone and the family’s savings were nearly exhausted.

After learning of Roger’s struggle, his ward employment specialist encouraged him to participate in the professional placement program at the Michigan Detroit LDS Employment Resource Center. A woman in attendance at the next weekly networking meeting was looking for employees to work in her manufacturing company. She was impressed by Roger’s valuable skills and experience. A job interview followed shortly thereafter and a job description was written specifically to fit Roger’s skills.

One day I went to a birthday party. The first part was watching a PG-13 movie, so I didn’t go to that part. I went in the middle of the party, and we ate pizza and cupcakes. After that we started watching another movie. It looked bad. I told my friend’s mom that I couldn’t watch it, so she turned it off and we played appropriate video games instead. I feel that I made the right choice. I will follow the prophet’s counsel to never watch bad movies in my life.

As a surgeon I am often asked how I gained my skills. Some suppose that one takes a class, watches an operation, and then is turned loose. There is even an ironic saying in training: see one, do one, teach one. However, nothing is further from the truth.
I gained my professional skill and knowledge under the guidance of many gifted and patient physicians. I began first by watching over shoulders and then up close. After a year of observing, I was given small assignments, helping the surgeon and his or her “first assistant”—the assistant surgeon.
After another year I was allowed to stand across the table from the surgeon and act as first assistant during simple operations. After another year or two, I was allowed to be first assistant in more complicated operations. Then I began to do the simplest operations, such as fixing a hernia, while the experienced surgeon acted as my first assistant.
In my last year of training—seven years after I had completed medical school—I was allowed to do complicated operations while the surgeon acted as first assistant. I discovered that the greatest teachers could make the operation flow smoother through their assistance because they could show me what needed to be done in clear and simple ways—ways they had learned through this same mentoring process.
I did not fully appreciate the guidance of these amazing and gifted expert surgeons who were my first assistants until I finished training and was on my own. However, even 30 years later, my teachers are in my mind as I daily use the skills they so painstakingly taught, demonstrated, and corrected.

Illustration by Katelyn Budge
I kind of have this face where, if I’m not smiling, I look like I’m angry. People would ask, “Why are you frowning? What’s your problem?” And I’d say, “I’m not frowning.” But their questions actually did make me angry.
My dad was worried about me. He called me to his room and said, “You know, you can’t keep having this angry attitude. What’s bothering you?” I decided I wanted to change.
I prayed and cried for Heavenly Father to help me. Over time, I started to feel different. I get less angry, I smile more often, and I love others more. Everybody said, “You are changing.” I know deep down that it isn’t by my own strength. It’s by the enabling power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
It’s hard to become the person you want to be. I can’t say I’m there yet, but I’m striving to get there. Our journey is supposed to be with Jesus Christ. We should invite Him along with us.
Victoria E., age 16, Lagos, Nigeria
Likes playing sports, reading, singing, doing hair, and learning new things.

Take 60 young men and women from the Emerson Second Ward, Paul Idaho Stake, get them singing, and what do you have? Not only lovely music, but a unified ward, too. In an activity that 100 percent of the ward’s young people participated in, they presented a sacrament meeting of music and talks. Most of them had never sung in four-part harmony before, and the ward’s 35-mile boundaries made it difficult for some to attend rehearsals, but it was well worth the effort. “I think Heavenly Father really helped us to sing our best,” said Paula Gibbons, one of the singers. “I’m glad I could be a part of it.”

My family used to live in a large city on the east coast of the United States. While we lived there, I had the opportunity to perform in the Nutcracker Ballet. It was exciting, magical, and a dream come true, since I have taken dance lessons from the age of three.
In hopes of recreating the magic, I auditioned again for the Nutcracker in my new town. One week later, the new director of the ballet company called our home to offer me a part in the first act. However, because of a new company policy, rehearsals would take place every Sunday for the next three months.
My mom explained to the director that this would be a conflict with our religion, but she would present the choice to me and let me make the decision whether I would dance or not. The director then gave this charge: “Abby needs to choose what is most important to her.”
This was a hard choice for me as I looked at the pros and cons of accepting this part. I loved ballet with a passion, but I also knew what was right. I had learned a long time ago that the Savior taught what is right and what is wrong, and that it is left up to me to choose the good part. So I declined the invitation to dance in that year’s Nutcracker.
The next day was our Children’s Sacrament Meeting Presentation. The theme was “Choose the Right.” The main scripture our leaders chose to use was “Choose you this day whom ye will serve; … but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord” (Josh. 24:15). My mom and dad sat in the congregation, watching me while I sang with the Primary chorus these words: “Choose the right in all labors you’re pursuing; Let God and Heaven be your goal” (Hymns, no. 239).

Whitney and her mother were cleaning out Whitney’s great-grandfather’s attic after he died. Mother pulled a large tarp off of a dresser, and her eyes filled with tears.
“What’s wrong?” Whitney asked.
“Nothing really is wrong,” Mother responded. “I just remember that when I was about your age, I would watch my grandmother take her hat out of this armoire.”
“What’s an armoire?” Whitney asked.
“That’s what this is,” Mother said, pointing. “It’s a large chest where Grandmother hung her clothes.” Mother lovingly ran her finger over the wood, and Whitney noticed that one of the doors was broken and that the varnish was chipped.
“It’s broken now, isn’t it?” Whitney asked.
Mother got a twinkle in her eye. “It is. But you know, Whitney, I think that I would like to restore this armoire. We could refinish it and make it as good as new.”
Whitney was excited. “We could paint it white and put fancy new handles on the doors!”
Mother shook her head. “No, I want to restore it. Restore means to bring something back to the way it was originally. I want it to look just the way it did when my grandmother used it. Can you think of something that is restored?”
Whitney was puzzled. “I’ll give you a hint,” Mother said. “You learn about the restoration of something when you go to church.”
“The gospel!” Whitney said. “But how was the gospel restored?”
“Jesus Christ brought back His gospel just the way it was when He was on the earth. He didn’t change it or make a new gospel. Jesus restored His gospel through Joseph Smith.”
“And Jesus is still the head of the Church,” Whitney added.
“I think you understand quite a bit about restoration,” Mother said with a smile.

When the missionaries took us to church in Frankfurt, Germany, I met a young man who appeared to have an obvious interest in me. He always tried to be close to me. He even influenced the sacrament table seating so he could pass the sacrament to me.

It took me quite a few years to realize that he was the man I wanted to be with for the rest of my life and beyond. He had finished a major part of his education and had spent two years far away from Germany to become a fighter pilot in the Air Force. He was quite insistent in his courting, and a true gentleman. He is still very much the same in this regard.

We married and soon had two children, a girl and a boy. When they grew up, they married, like us, in the Swiss temple. Now we have six grandchildren and five great-grandchildren. They are our treasure at the end of the rainbow. We love them and they love us. Some of them have already served missions.

All these blessings came into our lives because two missionaries had the desire and the courage to serve. These blessings came to us because temples are a central part in our conversion stories. They came about because the gospel and Church of Jesus Christ is back on earth again.

“Come on, Sam,” Jeremy said as he played kick the can with his friends along the old dusty roadbed. “Nobody will know but us.”
Lagging behind, I thought about the conversation Jeremy and I had had that morning. He’d told me about his plan to steal watermelons from Brother Vargas. I knew stealing was wrong, but I figured if I did what he wanted me to, we would be friends. So when he had finished talking, I had swatted him on the back and told a lie. “I know all about stealing. It’s easy. I’ve done it before.”
“You have!” he’d exclaimed, looking surprised. “Wait until I tell the other guys.” After he told everyone in the group, they looked at me with renewed interest. I liked that, but now I was in a terrible situation. I didn’t want to steal anything, especially Brother Vargas’s prize watermelons.
Brother Vargas was as old as my grandpa, but he had been my only friend when we first moved to Fawn Creek. He knew I was lonely and needed a friend. And I knew that the money from his melon field made up a big part of the income he and Sister Vargas lived on for a whole year.
“Hurry up, Sam,” one of the kids in the group called over his shoulder. “Brother Vargas will be back soon to pick up another load of melons. If we don’t get to his field before he does, we’ll have to wait another day.”
Oh, well, I thought, walking faster, I need friends my own age. Jeremy’s in my Primary class and my Scout troop, and all the guys like him. If we become friends, I’ll have a lot of guys to hang around with. Besides, Mom thinks he’s a good friend. So did I—until now.
When I caught up to Jeremy, he began making plans. “Clint, you be the lookout. If anyone comes, whistle real loud. Brett, you take Sam and head for the nearest row of melons. Jeff and I will be right behind you. Remember, we won’t have much time, so don’t be too choosy. Just get the biggest ones you can carry.”
“Yeah,” Clint agreed licking his lips. “We already know how good they taste.”
“What if we get caught?” I asked.
“Getting nervous?” Brett questioned.
“Not me,” I lied for the second time in half an hour. “You’re right; we’d better hurry.”
The real reason I wanted to hurry had nothing to do with taking melons. The truth was, I didn’t want to see the way Brother Vargas would look at me if he caught me robbing him. We were friends, and true friends take care of each other. I was starting to feel awful.
“Don’t worry, Sam,” Jeremy said. “No one will find out.”
How did I get into this situation? I wondered. I needed someone to blame. So I blamed Mom. It’s her fault we moved after Dad died.
“Yeah, sure,” I muttered under my breath. “And look at what you’re doing.” I knew why Mom had sold the house. She didn’t want to go to work and leave me home alone. She’d loved that old house, and I knew she didn’t want to move away from her friends any more than I did.
“Sam, you’re dragging your feet again,” Jeremy said.
“Yeah, I know,” I said, as I sent a rock flying across the road with the side of my foot.
When we finally reached Brother Vargas’s melon field, I knew I had made the worst decision of my life. But I didn’t know how to get out of it. Then the words to a song we were learning in Primary popped into my head. I began to sing softly:
“‘Choose the right when a choice is placed before you. In the right the Holy Spirit guides; And its light is forever shining o’er you, When in the right your heart confides.’”
When I got to the chorus, all the boys began to sing with me. When we finished it, I knew I had to say something. “We can’t do this!” I declared looking first at the guys and then at the melon field. “This just isn’t right.”
“But you said you’ve stolen things before,” Jeremy said accusingly.
“That was a lie,” I admitted. “I’ve never stolen anything in my whole life, and I don’t want to start now.”
“Neither do I,” Clint said, walking over to stand next to me.
Surprised I turned to Clint. “I thought you had stolen before. You even said that you knew how good Brother Vargas’s melons were.”
“We lied, too,” Brett admitted. “Brother Vargas gives my family watermelons from his field every year.”
“Yeah, and boy are they good!” Jeff said, almost drooling. “He gives melons to anyone who wants them.”
“Then why were we going to steal them?” I asked, almost shouting.
“We thought it would be fun,” Clint said as he dug the point of his tennis shoe into the loose dirt.
“Yeah,” Jeremy agreed, as his voice became a whisper. “But it sure doesn’t seem like fun now.”
When Brother Vargas drove up, we were sitting in the shade of the big metal shed still talking about his watermelons.
“Hi, boys,” he called. “It’s good to see you. I could sure use your help putting another load of melons on the truck.”
Feeling a little guilty, we asked him how we should do it so we wouldn’t damage the melons. Two hours later, after the truck was loaded, he offered us jobs for the rest of the summer. Then he asked, “Will each of you take a watermelon home to your families?”
“Yes! My family is going to love this!” Brett said excitedly. “Just yesterday Dad said his mouth was watering for a taste of Brother Vargas’s melons.”
“Mine, too,” Clint said with a big grin.
After Jeff, Clint, and Brett headed for home, only Jeremy and I were left.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I guess I just got carried away.”
“I’m sorry, too, Jeremy. I’m glad we finally made the right decision.”
Jeremy’s whole face lit up. “So am I! Now we can eat watermelon without feeling bad—and we have jobs too! It doesn’t get much better than that!”

Did they ever become discouraged? Of course they did. I quote now from James Brown, this remarkable experience and prophecy:
The winter of 1848–49 was quite cold. Many people had their feet badly frozen. . . . As the days grew warmer the gold fever attacked many so that they prepared to go to California. Some said they would go only to have a place for the rest of us; for they thought Brigham Young too smart a man to try to establish a civilized colony in such a “God-forsaken country,” as they called the [Salt Lake] valley. . . .
It was at this time of gloom that President Young stood before the whole people, and said, in substance . . . : “Some have asked me about going. I have told them that God has appointed this place for the gathering of his saints, and you will do better right here than you will by going to the gold mines. Some have thought they would go there and get fitted out and come back, but I told them to stop here and get fitted out. Those who stop here and are faithful to God and his people will make more money and get richer than you that run after the god of this world; and I promise you in the name of the Lord that many of you that go thinking you will get rich and come back, will wish you had never gone away from here, and will long to come back, but will not be able to do so. Some of you will come back, but your friends who remain here will have to help you. . . .
“We have been kicked out of the frying pan into the fire, out of the fire into the middle of the floor, and here we are and here we will stay. God has shown me that this is the spot to locate his people, and here is where they will prosper; he will temper the elements for the good of his Saints; he will rebuke the frost and the sterility of the soil, and the land shall become fruitful. Brethren, go to now, and plant out your fruit seeds. . . .
” . . . We shall build a city and a temple to the Most High God in this place. We will extend our settlements to the east and west, to the north and to the south, and we will build towns and cities by the hundreds, and thousands of the Saints will gather in from the nations of the earth. This will become the great highway of the nations. Kings and emperors and the noble and wise of the earth will visit us here, while the wicked and ungodly will envy us our comfortable homes and possessions. Take courage, brethren. I can stand in my door and can see where there is untold millions of the rich treasures of the earth—gold and silver. But the time has not come for the Saints to dig gold. . . . For if the mines are opened first, we are a thousand miles from any base of supplies and the people would rush in here in such great numbers that they would breed a famine. . . . People would starve to death with barrels of gold. . . . It is our duty to preach the gospel, gather Israel, pay our tithing, and build temples. The worst fear that I have about this people is that they will get rich in this country, forget God and his people, wax fat, and kick themselves out of the Church and go to hell. [That is a quotation!] This people will stand mobbing, robbing, poverty, and all manner of persecution, and be true. But my greater fear for them is that they cannot stand wealth; and yet they have to be tried with riches, for they will become the richest people on this earth.” [See Life of a Pioneer: Being the Autobiography of James S. Brown (Salt Lake City: George Q. Cannon & Sons, 1900; New York: AMS Press, 1971), pp. 119–23, cited by Preston Nibley in Brigham Young: The Man and His Work (Salt Lake City: Deseret News Press, 1936), pp. 126–28]
I would like to say that we are a very rich and blessed people.
Notwithstanding the temptation to go to the California goldfields, where the entire world seemed to be rushing, the people accepted their leader’s words. They stayed here and grubbed the sagebrush and made their way. Brigham Young’s prophecy has been fulfilled. This is now a great and beautiful and fertile area. It has become the Crossroads of the West. Thousands and tens of thousands and hundreds of thousands pass this way constantly. We in the Office of the First Presidency are called upon day after day and week after week to meet the great of the earth.