Gospel Story Finder

Did you ever wish for something so long and so hard that it was on your mind every single day? I did. I wished for a horse. From the time I could recognize four hooves and a mane, I wanted my own horse.
We lived in Maine, USA, out in the country, but my family couldn’t afford a horse. That didn’t stop me from wishing and praying and nagging my parents for one, though.
One sunny August morning, just before my 13th birthday, I looked out our big front window. Down the hill, at my friend Sandy’s house, a horse trailer was pulling in! Sandy’s dad stepped behind the truck and led a beautiful mare down the ramp and up to the pasture behind their house.
Sandy’s parents had bought her a horse! I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! At that moment I thought, Sandy probably just wants to be popular. She’s not really interested in loving a horse and caring for it like I am. It’s so unfair!
I sat down and started crying. I knew I was the one who was being unfair. I knew I was feeling angry and jealous. But right then I didn’t care.
Mom tried to comfort me. She told me that Sandy would probably let me ride sometime. But I didn’t want to be comforted. I wanted to get to know that horse and ride her, and I was going to do it my own way.
A few days later I snuck over to visit Sandy’s horse, Lady Samantha. You couldn’t see that part of the pasture from Sandy’s house, so I was sure no one would find out. I made friends with Lady, and I started going there whenever I could to ride her all around the field. Because she was just grazing when I visited, she didn’t have a saddle or bridle on, so I rode her bareback and with no bridle.
Then one day my secret was found out. Sandy came looking for Lady, and from far away she spotted someone sitting on her. She yelled, “Hey! Get away from that horse! Hey you! Get out of there!”
I got down off of Lady and ran away as quickly as I could! I hoped Sandy hadn’t seen who it was. But she must have known. Everyone knew how much I loved horses.
Back at home, I felt terrible. Maybe Sandy’s parents would call my parents. I was afraid of what would happen next. But as I waited, I also thought about what could have happened because of what I had done. I could have been hurt. Or I could have accidentally hurt Lady.
Then I thought even more about what I had done. I had trespassed on my neighbor’s property. I had ridden her horse without permission. I had been dishonest!
I began to realize what I had to do. I prayed for forgiveness and for courage. Then I picked up the phone and called Sandy. She answered. I took a deep breath and said, “Sandy, I’m sorry! It was me riding Lady Samantha.”
Sandy was really angry. I told her again how sorry I was, and I told her about how jealous I had felt. I promised never to do it again. As she listened, she got less angry and began to forgive me.
After a while Sandy said, “I know what! You can come over on the days I have my riding lessons, and I’ll give you a lesson afterward. And you can help me take care of Lady, too, if you want.”
I was thrilled. I tried to get rid of all of my jealous feelings, and I said yes.
During the next few years, Lady carried Sandy and me on many adventures, and I learned many lessons. But I think the biggest lesson I learned was never to let my wants and wishes gallop away with me!

“It was a nice prayer.” This was my thought immediately following my patriarchal blessing. My patriarch had said some great words, and I had felt the Spirit, but I thought it was just a nice prayer, nothing remarkable like others had indicated were in their blessings.
I had graduated from high school and was preparing for my first year of college. Before I left home, I wanted to be ordained an elder and receive my patriarchal blessing. Two weeks before school started, I was able to accomplish both goals.
My patriarch gave a fine blessing, but I just did not feel that the experience was as great as everyone made it out to be. I admit that in a way I was even disappointed. I had expected so much, and it seemed that I did not receive what I had wanted. I questioned my own worthiness. Could it be my fault that I was not feeling anything spectacular?
After days of pondering, I knew I was at fault. I realized I needed to do some preparation in my own life to receive the personal witness that my patriarchal blessing was from God.
For the next few weeks, I fasted, prayed, and sought forgiveness of any sins I had. I was changing slowly. I could not tell a great difference, but by the time my patriarchal blessing came to me in the mail, I was ready.
I waited until Sunday evening to read it when all was quiet. Even as I opened the envelope, I could sense a different feeling come over me. I began to read. I had not read more than a few lines when amazing statements appeared. I could not believe this was my blessing! It seemed my whole blessing was full of material I had never heard before, and the things which I did remember began to have new meanings. A full-time mission, celestial marriage, eternal life—I now saw these expressions, that I had thought were trite, as the great promises they were. I had missed so much when I first received my patriarchal blessing. My “nice prayer” had turned into a personal revelation from God to me.

It is not easy to give up our personal priorities and desires. Many years ago a new missionary in England was frustrated and discouraged. He wrote home saying he felt he was wasting his time. His wise father replied, “Forget yourself and go to work.” Young Elder Gordon B. Hinckley went to his knees and covenanted with the Lord that he would try to forget himself and lose himself in the Lord’s service. Years later, as a mature servant of the Lord, Elder Hinckley would say, “He who lives only unto himself withers and dies, while he who forgets himself in the service of others grows and blossoms in this life and in eternity.”

Another story of priesthood service was told a month ago in a ward sacrament meeting. Again, I was there. In this case, the seasoned Melchizedek Priesthood holder didn’t know as he spoke that he was describing exactly what the Lord desires to happen with strengthened priesthood quorums. Here is the gist of his account:

He and a home teaching companion were assigned to serve seven families. Almost all of them did not want visits. When the home teachers went to their apartments, they refused to answer the door. When they telephoned, they did not get an answer. When they left a message, the call was not returned. This senior companion finally resorted to a letter-writing ministry. He even began to use bright yellow envelopes in the hope of getting a response.

One of the seven families was a less-active single sister who had emigrated from Europe. She had two young children.

After many attempts to contact her, he received a text message. She abruptly informed him that she was too busy to meet with home teachers. She had two jobs and was in the military as well. Her primary job was that of a police officer, and her career goal was to become a detective and then return to her native country and continue her work there.

The home teacher never was able to visit with her in her home. He periodically texted her. Every month he sent a handwritten letter, supplemented with holiday cards for each child.

He received no response. But she knew who her home teachers were, how to contact them, and that they would persist in their priesthood service.

Then one day he received an urgent text from her. She desperately needed help. She did not know who the bishop was, but she did know her home teachers.

In a few days, she had to leave the state for a monthlong military training exercise. She could not take her children with her. Her mother, who was going to care for her children, had just flown to Europe to care for her husband, who had a medical emergency.

This less-active single sister had enough money to buy a ticket to Europe for her youngest child but not for her 12-year-old son, Eric.2 She asked her home teacher if he could find a good LDS family to take Eric into their home for the next 30 days!

The home teacher texted back that he would do his best. He then contacted his priesthood leaders. The bishop, who was the presiding high priest, gave him approval to approach members of the ward council, including the Relief Society president.

The Relief Society president quickly found four good LDS families, with children about Eric’s age, who would take him into their homes for a week at a time. Over the next month, these families fed Eric, found room for him in their already crowded apartments or small homes, took him on their previously planned summer family activities, brought him to church, included him in their family home evenings, and on and on.

The families with boys Eric’s age included him in their deacons quorum meetings and activities. During this 30-day period, Eric was in church every Sunday for the first time in his life.

After his mother came home from her training, Eric continued to attend church, usually with one of these four volunteer LDS families or others who had befriended him, including his mother’s visiting teachers. In time, he was ordained a deacon and began passing the sacrament regularly.

Now let us look into Eric’s future. We will not be surprised if he becomes a leader in the Church in his mother’s home country when his family returns there—all because of Saints who worked together in unity, under the direction of a bishop, to serve out of charity in their hearts and with the power of the Holy Ghost.

What helped you decide to pursue art in school? I realized that God gave me a gift, and in praying and asking Him, I realized that art was what He wanted me to pursue. I started drawing more and doing more pieces, and when I auditioned for my school, they accepted me. I saw how direct the hand of the Lord is in people’s lives when you are trying your best to follow the commandments and read your scriptures and pray every day.

The girls learned self-defense while the fellows considered career opportunities. Not your typical youth conference—but there’s nothing typical about Malibu, California, either.
The youth of the Los Angeles California East Stake spent their youth conference at a Malibu ranch. They began with get-acquainted games and films of the 1973 Southern California Dance Festival in which many of them had participated.
The three-day conference included a prebreakfast hike; instructions in macrame, soap carving, and decoupage; rowboat races; an obstacle course; football; volleyball; softball; self-defense for the girls; and a career workshop for the fellows. Even after all that they weren’t too tired to enjoy a session of ballroom dance instruction followed by a dance.
On the serious side the young people enjoyed guest speakers, a scripture chase, group discussions, and a testimony meeting.
Also included in the conference activities was a tug-of-war over the lake, and the losing team went for a swim. Later there was a panel discussion in which all the bishops in the stake fielded questions from the young people. It was a great success for the 150 youths who attended.

When I came out as bisexual a few years ago, I felt like I was facing an ultimatum: stay “true” to my sexual orientation and leave the Church (according to the world’s view) or deny my experience and stay faithful.
I wanted to align with Heavenly Father’s will. However, as I grew up, I also heard LGBT issues in and out of the Church talked about with negative feelings and harsh judgments, so I felt conflicted. I always wondered: How could I be both a member of the Church of Jesus Christ and experience same-sex attraction?
After years of trying to ignore my feelings, I couldn’t deny my experiences. But I didn’t know where that left me as a disciple of Christ. I grappled with this question: If God exists and loves me and has a plan for me, and if His plan of happiness involves marriage between a man and a woman only, then why am I attracted to women and men?
I was so confused.
During this time of unanswered questions, friends outside of the Church told me I should abandon my faith to “follow my heart.” I considered this at times—I already felt like I didn’t belong at church with all my questions. My family and loved ones showed love and support when I told them about my experiences, but I still felt so much uncertainty about what to do.
There were moments throughout this challenging time when I wondered if I really was one of Heavenly Father’s children, if He loved me, and if I had a place in the gospel of Jesus Christ.
As I sought Him more diligently than ever, I eventually did feel His love for me. I looked back at spiritual times in life, like my baptism day, moments in the temple, and other spiritual experiences. I couldn’t deny Heavenly Father’s love for me. I could feel that He is fully aware of my circumstances and that no matter what I am experiencing in mortality, I have a divine nature.

“You’re it!” Mandy said. She tagged her little brother and then swam away. Mandy’s family was staying in a motel until they could move to their new home. It was fun eating ravioli warmed up in the microwave for lunch. And they got to swim in the motel pool almost every day!
But there was one not-so-good part about the motel. The motel manager’s office was right under their room, and the manager thought Mandy and her brothers and sisters were too loud. “How can I rent rooms when it sounds like a herd of elephants are over my head?” he asked Dad.
After lunch Mandy’s little brother Aaron jumped off the bed and hit the floor with a thump. Mandy winced and looked up at Mom.
“No jumping. Tiptoe, please,” Mom said.
But it was too late. The phone rang.
“Uh oh,” thought Mandy.
Mom picked up the phone. Mandy could hear her apologizing to the manager.
Mom’s shoulders sagged as she hung up the phone. “Edward and Mandy,” she said, “I need to put Aaron and Emily down for a nap. Will you please take Kristine and Daniel for a walk?”
As they started across the motel parking lot, Mandy spotted something small and brown on the ground.
It was a wallet. And it had money in it!
“Look, Edward!” she said, holding the wallet up high.
“We need to take this to the manager’s office right away,” said Edward.
Mandy felt her stomach clench. Why did they have to take it right now? Couldn’t Mom or Dad return it later?
But Mandy knew the right thing to do.
The children opened the office door and timidly stepped inside. The manager frowned. “Um, we found this wallet in the parking lot,” Mandy said. Her hand shook as she set the wallet on the counter.
A man who was standing at the counter looked over. “That’s mine,” he said. He quickly looked through the wallet. “And everything’s here. Thank you, kids!”
Mandy looked up at the manager. His frown was gone, and his eyes were twinkling.
After they left the office, Daniel asked, “Was that wallet magic?”
“Why do you think it’s magic?” asked Edward.
“Because it made the grumpy man happy!”
Edward shook his head. “The wallet wasn’t magic,” he said. “He was happy because we did the right thing.”
Mandy had a special feeling inside. She never knew choosing the right could make people so happy.
A few days later, Mandy and Dad went to pay the week’s bill. The manager smiled at Mandy. He had only called once since they found the wallet, and just to thank them for being honest. Mandy felt like she’d made a new friend.
“Choosing the right really is magical,” Mandy thought. She waved goodbye, and the manager waved back. “And he really isn’t so grumpy after all.”

Matti and Kirsti Salmi exemplify this combination of faith with Finnish resolve. They live in the west coast city of Kemi, at the northern tip of the Gulf of Bothnia, less than one hundred kilometers below the Arctic Circle. In 1988, the Salmis became the first Finnish couple to serve a mission in their own land.

Kirsti had joined the Church in 1973 in Kuopio, after the missionaries taught her the gospel that “sounded familiar and true, especially after reading the Book of Mormon.” Matti was forty-eight when, in 1978, the elders brought “an undeniably strong spirit with them.” And he too was baptized. The two met in the summer of 1981 at the Swiss Temple.

“How glad we were for our proselyting mission call,” says Matti. “Within the first week of our mission, we met and taught our first people to be converted. By the end of the month they were baptized; then came another and another.”

“Even when people weren’t baptized,” adds Kirsti, “we never felt we taught in vain. On the other side, when some things are clearer, many of those will accept.”

Their work brought three young converts in Savonlinna, the beautiful site of the nation’s annual opera festivals. The city’s setting is dramatic, on a large archipelago in the middle of the largest of Finland’s 180,000 lakes. “We so enjoyed our work in that lovely setting,” says Brother Salmi. “The members there are devoted to the gospel and freely helped us share it.”

According to the Salmis, “teaching eternal principles together and sharing love for others deepened and strengthened our marriage more than anything we could think of.”

Some young people want to rebel against restraints. Some of you think it isn’t “cool” to be obedient to your parents or to follow the counsel of your bishop or quorum president. Bishop Richard C. Edgley shared an experience he had as a young boy about the consequences of being reckless and disobedient:
“When I was a young boy, our garage and the neighbor’s garage were about five feet apart. The neighbor’s garage was very old and dilapidated, and some of the boards were breaking. I, on occasion, would climb onto our garage and jump from one garage to the other and play on top of them. My father had told me, ‘Stay off the garages,’ but I didn’t. One time when I was playing on them, I jumped from our garage and fell through the roof of the neighbor’s garage, scraping my back and legs badly. Because I had been disobedient, I foolishly decided not to tell anyone that I had hurt myself. I went in the house and washed the scrapes and scratches as well as I could, but I couldn’t reach the ones on my back to put antiseptic on them or even wash them clean. I bore the burden of pain, worry over infection setting in, and guilt for several days while the healing process took place.”

In the 1960s, a professor at Stanford University began a modest experiment testing the willpower of four-year-old children. He placed before them a large marshmallow and then told them they could eat it right away or, if they waited for 15 minutes, they could have two marshmallows.
He then left the children alone and watched what happened behind a two-way mirror. Some of the children ate the marshmallow immediately; some could wait only a few minutes before giving in to temptation. Only 30 percent were able to wait.
It was a mildly interesting experiment, and the professor moved on to other areas of research, for, in his own words, “there are only so many things you can do with kids trying not to eat marshmallows.” But as time went on, he kept track of the children and began to notice an interesting correlation: the children who could not wait struggled later in life and had more behavioral problems, while those who waited tended to be more positive and better motivated, have higher grades and incomes, and have healthier relationships.
What started as a simple experiment with children and marshmallows became a landmark study suggesting that the ability to wait—to be patient—was a key character trait that might predict later success in life.

A friend from college days wrote to me recently, saying: “Much in my chaotic childhood was uncertain, but one thing I knew for sure: that my dad loved me. That certainty was the anchor of my young life. I came to know and love the Lord because my father loved him. I have never called anyone a fool or taken the Lord’s name in vain because he told me the Bible said I shouldn’t. I have always paid my tithing because he taught me it was a privilege to do so. I have always tried to take responsibility for my mistakes because my father did. Even though he was estranged from the Church for a [time], at the end of his life he served a mission and worked faithfully in the temple. In his will he said that any money left over from taking care of his [family] should go to the Church. He loved the Church with all of his heart. And because of him, so do I.”

Merrell: Well, I gained a feeling of self-worth and determination to do my best. For example, while still in elementary school, I worked long hours in the hayfields, cutting and raking, and sometimes I would run into difficulties that would cut into my productivity. But no matter how many or how few rows I had cut, when my father came out to see my work in the evening, he would say, “Boy, Merrell, you got a lot accomplished! Did you get all that done while I was gone?” I was convinced I was the fastest cutter in the valley! I don’t know if I really was or not, but my father always made me feel that way.

In the Central Valley of California, there are 44 teenagers who will never forget the city of St. George, Utah, with its hospitable people and its beautiful white temple.
The youths’ 18-hour stay there was the culmination of six months of planning, hard work, and cooperation between the youth and adults of the Tulare Ward (Visalia California Stake) and those of the St. George Second Ward.
The moment the weary travelers arrived at the Second Ward chapel after their 500-mile journey, they were met by an enthusiastic crowd of St. George youth who immediately sought out, tagged, and friendshiped each California teenager. Together these new friends shared the experiences of that day and the next. The anticipation of their meeting and their bond of common beliefs seemed to create an instant, comfortable friendship on both sides.
After an official welcome by Bishop Ross Taylor, the young people toured the tabernacle built during the same period in which the temple was constructed. Everywhere there was evidence of pioneer skill, artistry, and devotion.
Following the tabernacle visit, the group toured the Brigham Young Winter Home and caught a glimpse of the life of that great prophet and the times in which he lived.
After dinner in the homes of their hosts, the youth met at the templegrounds for the long-awaited tour. A lovely scene met their eyes. To one teenage girl, Shawna Brown, “the temple stood out like a gleaming jewel, shining forth with the Spirit of the Lord.” In this small, quiet town was the most magnificent building most of them had ever seen, a great sparkling building surrounded by deep-green lawns, a building normally brilliant white, bathed now in the golden glow of a setting sun. As the young people joined the long lines of those waiting to enter, they huddled for warmth in the unfamiliar chill of the southern Utah evening.
Inside there was peace and calm and cheerfully whispered “hello’s” between the white-clothed temple workers and the awed young visitors.
“What impressed me most,” said Julie Peterson, a convert of one year, “was that the workers in the temple were so at peace and so nice. I want to work there when I become older. Most of all, I know that I’ll marry in the temple, no matter what!” Liz Myers, a young investigator, commented, “It was beautiful, just walking through. It made me feel so clean inside. It was a great feeling!” Michelle Meadows said that being in the temple felt to her “like a little bit of heaven on earth—it was so peaceful and so beautiful.” As the group was passing through the last sealing room, one of the workers whispered to Claire Forman, “This is where you’re going to be married.” She answered, “Oh, yes!” Now, recalling that experience, Claire says, “There is no way I would even consider marrying outside the temple.”
The tour was over too soon. Too soon they stood once more outside the great building looking up at its inscription, “Holiness to the Lord.” But the influence of those few minutes may never end. To David Anderson, it brought greater meaning to going on a mission, coming back to get married for time and all eternity, and living a righteous life.
“We realized,” said Ruben Ruiz, “that the temple is the house of the Lord and that it was built for a purpose. We realized that the work done in the temple is sacred and that you need to be worthy to enter.”
Following the temple visit, the combined fireside in the Second Ward cultural hall concluded the evening. Three young St. George couples related the strength and meaning that temple marriage had brought into their lives.
The final event of the trip occurred the following morning among the red sandstone cliffs of Snow’s Canyon. Never had pancakes—complete with juice, bacon, and eggs—tasted so good. Following breakfast, the youth—lured by the cliffs around the little tree-and-sagebrush-covered valley—clambered up the sloping walls, which seemed almost stair-stepped for their benefit. Campers who chanced to be in the canyon that morning must have been startled as the hills literally burst forth into song. The final rendition was “I Am a Child of God,” sung by the Tulare teenagers from their mountaintop loft to their bishop, who stood looking up from the sands below. It was an impromptu, heartfelt expression of their love for him that neither he nor they will ever forget.
As the two groups exchanged addresses and goodbyes—the St. George youth to return to what was left of their late October Saturday, and the California young people to their journey home—no one doubted that all were spiritually richer than before. Bishop Taylor said that because of the enthusiasm of the California youth in their desire to visit the house of the Lord, the hearts of those in St. George had been reawakened to a remembrance of the great blessing of the temple and the particular privilege of living within its very shadow.
The feelings of all might be best summed up by the statement of Tulare’s Laurel class president, Karen McPherson, as she bore her testimony in sacrament meeting the day after the trip: “Bishop Dredge has been pounding into us for years, ‘Get married in the temple! Get married in the temple!’ And now I know why!”

Rosalene grew up as the youngest child in a large family in Enterprise, a small community in Southern Utah, USA. She had many opportunities to witness the power of faith in Jesus Christ during her years at home and on her mission. After marrying in the temple, Rosalene embarked on a testimony-stretching journey of her own when her husband started a career that would take her farther and farther from home.
After moving to the state of Colorado, Rosalene watched from afar as her mother battled cancer until passing away a few years later.
Images from stock.adobe.com and from Getty Images
“I could have been happy to live in my hometown next to my parents my entire life,” she says. “It broke my heart when I had to grow up and move away. Losing my mom was life-shattering. Even now, not a single day goes by that I don’t miss her.
“I have to believe that there were days when Elizabeth missed her home desperately. But she believed in Jesus Christ and allowed His power to work in her life. That was enough to carry her through. The same power has helped me as I rely on my Heavenly Father for strength, whether or not my earthly family is close by.”

It happened every Sunday in church. No matter how hard Jeremy tried, he always got the wiggle-waggles. He tried very hard to sit still during Primary. He kept his arms folded as long as he could and sang all the Primary songs. Jeremy listened to the lesson in his class and tried to answer questions. But sometimes, even when he tried his very hardest to sit still, they still came—those bothersome wiggle-waggles!
It usually happened toward the end of Primary and carried on through sacrament meeting. Jeremy would start to fidget, then he’d play with his tie. He’d rattle his papers from Primary, then twist around in his seat. He tried talking to his best friend, Thomas, but Thomas would put a finger to his lips to tell Jeremy to be quiet. Thomas never seemed to get the wiggle-waggles.
Sometimes Jeremy would untie his shoes. When the wiggle-waggles were really bad, he would slip off his shoes and kick his stocking feet back and forth.
“Sit still, Jeremy,” his Primary teacher whispered to him.
“Shhh, Jeremy, I want to listen to Sister Bernard,” Thomas said quietly when Jeremy tried to tell him about his new toy dump truck.
“Put your feet down,” his mother cautioned in sacrament meeting.
“Leave your shoes on, son,” his dad told him.
Jeremy tried to sit reverently and quietly. He really did! But he still had those wiggle-waggles every Sunday.
One night at family home evening, Jeremy’s mother brought up the wiggle-waggle problem.
“I try to sit still, Mom. I really do!” Jeremy exclaimed.
“It seems to me that we need to figure out a way to stop those wiggle-waggles from bothering Jeremy,” Dad said thoughtfully. “Let’s all think about it, and maybe we’ll come up with a solution.”
On Sunday morning, just before the family left for church, Jeremy’s mother gave him a piece of paper and a pencil. Then she said, “Jeremy, I want you to write down a sentence about your lesson in Primary, and a sentence about the talks that you hear in sacrament meeting. Do you think you could do that?”
Jeremy nodded enthusiastically.
“We’ll talk about what you wrote on your paper for family home evening,” his mother added.
All through Primary, Jeremy sat very still. He listened carefully to the talks and scripture and wrote down the scripture reference. Jeremy sang with his best voice during singing time, and even wrote down a verse to one of the Primary songs. Then he wrote a sentence about sharing time. Jeremy didn’t talk to Thomas once. During the walk to their class, Thomas commented on how reverent Jeremy was. During his Primary class, Jeremy quietly wrote down a sentence about the lesson. Before he knew it, Primary was over.
“I didn’t get the wiggle-waggles once!” Jeremy proudly reported to his parents as they sat down for sacrament meeting.
During the next hour, Jeremy tried very hard to sit quietly. But after a while, he started to feel the wiggle-waggles creeping up on him. He glanced down at his paper and read the words of the Primary song he had written down: “It shouldn’t be hard to sit very still and think about Jesus, his cross on the hill, and all that he suffered and did for me; it shouldn’t be hard to sit quietly.”*
Jeremy thought about the song. That was the secret! He should think about Jesus. Jeremy knew that Jesus would want him to sit quietly and listen.
Jeremy listened as Elder Vasquez, one of the missionaries serving in his ward, related an experience about a 10-year-old girl who had recently been baptized. He listened when Elder Brown, the other missionary, told the congregation that he was from England and had been on his mission for only three months. As Jeremy listened to the missionaries, he decided that he would like to be a missionary, too.
Jeremy was surprised when the closing hymn was announced. He looked down at his paper and noticed that he hadn’t written anything about the missionaries. He had been too busy listening to them! And the wiggle-waggles hadn’t bothered him once!
As they were leaving the church after sacrament meeting, Jeremy’s parents told him how happy they were that he’d been so reverent. Jeremy told them how the Primary song had taught him to think about Jesus and what He wanted him to do.
Just then, Sister Harper came up to Jeremy’s parents and said, “Jeremy is so quiet! I wish my Kerry would learn how to be quiet and reverent like Jeremy. She gets so wiggly!”
Jeremy’s mother winked at him.
“It looks like the wiggle-waggles found someone else to bother,” she said.
“Yes.” Jeremy smiled and held up his piece of paper. “And I know just what she can do to fix it!”

On that occasion thousands of curious but earnest people stood in long lines to gain entry to the building. A policeman stationed to direct traffic observed that it was the first time he had ever seen the English eager to get into a church.
Those who inspected the building were asked to defer any questions until they had completed the tour. In the evenings I joined the missionaries in talking with those who had questions. As a young couple came down the front steps of the temple, I inquired whether I could help them in any way. The young woman spoke up and said, “Yes. What about this ‘marriage for eternity’ to which reference was made in one of the rooms?” We sat on a bench under the ancient oak that stood near the gate. The wedding band on her finger indicated that they were married, and the manner in which she gripped her husband’s hand evidenced their affection one for another.
“Now to your question,” I said. “I suppose you were married by the vicar.”
“Yes,” she responded, “just three months ago.”
“Did you realize that when the vicar pronounced your marriage he also decreed your separation?”
“What do you mean?” she quickly retorted.
“You believe that life is eternal, don’t you?”
“Of course,” she replied.
I continued, “Can you conceive of eternal life without eternal love? Can either of you envision eternal happiness without the companionship of one another?”
“Of course not,” came the ready response.
“But what did the vicar say when he pronounced your marriage? If I remember the language correctly, he said, among other things, ‘in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, till death do ye part.’ He went as far as he felt his authority would permit him and that was till death separates you. In fact, I think that if you were to question him, he would emphatically deny the existence of marriage and family beyond the grave.
“But,” I continued, “the Father of us all, who loves His children and wants the best for them, has provided for a continuation, under proper circumstances, of this most sacred and ennobling of all human relationships, the relationships of marriage and family.
“In that great and moving conversation between the Savior and His Apostles, Peter declared, ‘Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God,’ and the Lord responded, ‘Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven.’ The Lord then went on to say to Peter and his associates, ‘And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven’ (see Matt. 16:13–19).
“In that marvelous bestowal of authority, the Lord gave to His Apostles the keys of the holy priesthood, whose power reaches beyond life and death into eternity. This same authority has been restored to the earth by those same Apostles who held it anciently, even Peter, James, and John.” I continued by saying that following the dedication of the temple on the following Sunday, those same keys of the holy priesthood would be exercised in behalf of the men and women who come into this sacred house to solemnize their marriage. They will be joined in a union which death cannot dissolve and time cannot destroy.
Such was my testimony to this young couple in England.

Most of the time Ben liked to share. He liked to share Daddy’s toast and Mom’s cookie. He liked to share Mike’s football and Anne’s book. He liked to share Max’s wagon.
But Ben did not like to share his cool cars, not even with Max. “Mine!” Ben said.
Ben filled his hands and pockets with cool cars. He hid them in the corner and under the couch pillows. If Max wanted to play with him, Ben felt angry. “My cool cars!”
One day Mom pulled Ben onto her lap. She gave him a hug and a kiss. “Does Daddy share his toast with you?” Mom asked.
“Yes,” Ben said.
“Does Mommy share her cookie with you?”
“Yes.”
“Does Anne share her book and does Mike share his football with you?”
“Yes.”
“When you play with Max, does he share his wagon?”
“Yes.”
“When we share with you, we feel happy. You feel happy too,” Mom said. “If you share your cool cars with Max, you will feel happy, and Max will feel happy. You can play together, and you won’t feel angry anymore.”
Ben stayed on Mom’s lap for a minute. Then he got down and took two of his cars out of his pocket. He gave one to Max. Ben smiled, and Max smiled. Ben didn’t feel angry anymore. Sharing made him feel happy.

My family used to live in a big house, but everything changed when we moved to Hanoi. We lived in a very small apartment, about 30 square meters. Living in a narrow space with three other people in my family was hard.
But I’m grateful that God can help make good things come from any situation. During that time, I was able to be an interpreter at church and for my parents. I could pray every day, I passed the sacrament, and I welcomed people investigating the gospel. I know that God has blessed me and guided me to do those things.
Through all the challenges at that time, my faith became stronger day by day. Many people don’t know about the gospel in my country, so I’m a young pioneer. I have a desire to share the gospel of Jesus Christ with people to help them have a happy life forever with Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father.

Frans and his family were part of a small group from Soweto who had embraced the restored gospel during the 1970s. At first they attended the Johannesburg Ward. Frans’s son Jonas remembered getting up on Sundays at 4:00 a.m. so the family could catch an early train into Johannesburg and then make the long walk to the chapel before the services started at 9:00 a.m. The family was always early—though sometimes it was difficult for the children to stay awake through Primary!