Gospel Story Finder

At Abha, we met an extraordinary man at precisely the time we needed him. Helwan Habtar, a graduate of American schools with masters degrees in both political science and economics, took us to his home where he recited for us his family genealogy back 22 generations. Intrigued, three other men who had come by for the evening also recited their genealogies back as far as 13 generations. They were delighted that we would make tape recordings of them.
We were fortunate to be in Abha on a Tuesday, market day for so many hundreds of years that Mr. Habtar could not tell us when the custom began. There is a market area for honey, one for frankincense, others for myrrh, fruits, vegetables, cloth, clothing, donkeys, sheep, and camels.
Our attention centered first on those areas selling frankincense and myrrh. Frankincense comes in golden lumps about as big as the end of a finger while myrrh is reddish-brown and comes in rock-shaped chunks or as grated shavings. The frankincense was relatively inexpensive (a couple of dollars a pound), but myrrh is still costly because it is used for “medicinal purposes: every newborn baby is given a taste of myrrh in water to warn him of life’s bitterness; burning myrrh in a censer near a child’s sickbed is supposed to guarantee a quick recovery. A 45-year-old Arab in Jerusalem related how his mother had made him jump over a dish of burning myrrh when he was sick as a child. Now we understood one possible reason why the Wise Men brought myrrh to the baby Jesus: it was to help Mary keep him well.
The story of the Wise Men, the baby Jesus, and the gifts they brought is a rich one, but more of that belongs to another place. For us, the significance of frankincense and myrrh in Arabia was that the customs of the desert still preserved living links with the world of Lehi, Nephi, and the Book of Mormon.

When he entered the hospital emergency room he was just another vagrant. His thin, hunched, and sore-ridden body slowly limped forward. His blind eyes stared blankly into a private world of darkness. The offensive smell from his poorly-clothed body was enough to discourage anyone from getting close to him. But, as a doctor, it was my job; so I invited him to come with me.
As I examined him he told me over and over that he was sick and needed help. After describing all of his symptoms he mumbled in rejection, “I don’t have a family or a home where I can sleep or eat.” I felt compassion for him—there were so many just like him. But what could I do?
As I treated him we talked about God. He understood the importance of the teachings of Jesus Christ and the need for them in our lives. However, he expressed difficulty understanding people who say they believe in God but neglect to show concern and compassion for their neighbor. He had acquaintances who claimed belief in God, but when he asked for food they wouldn’t give him any.
The one person who actually offered help was a woman almost as poor as he. She worked hard to help support her family by collecting and selling old clothing and rags. She had invited him to stay with them in her small tin-walled house. It was tiny, there were flies and rodents—but he would be welcome there.
We walked and talked together for three hours. Though his eyes were blinded his heart was not. Most of our conversation was about God. He asked, “Doctor, do you believe in God?” Quickly, I replied, “Yes I do, and you are my brother.” My reply came without thinking. But, as I said it, the words swelled in my heart and I realized that it was true!
As we talked, my love for him grew. I was in awe as I began to understand what it meant to be a brother. I experienced gratitude for the lesson I was learning from one whom, I thought, had nothing to give. I gave him of my time, and a little food, but he gave me understanding.

A returned missionary came to see me one day for some advice about whether he should join a particular group at the University at this point in his life. When asked what he thought about it, he suggested several ideas that seemed to point to one course of action. When asked what he really felt inside about it, at first he looked puzzled then he smiled as he recognized that the feeling was different from what most of his reasons suggested.

One day a boy stopped at my office and for several moments talked very negatively and critically about the Church, suggesting several reasons why the Church just couldn’t be the Lord’s Church. When asked to search deeply within himself, to examine his conscience concerning the matter as to whether or not the Church was the Lord’s, he replied after some reflective thought, “I feel it is the Lord’s Church.”

Another individual was advocating the new morality, suggesting that a boy and girl are free to choose the way they will show their affection for each other based on the circumstances, without fear of law or punishment, neither of which he felt existed. He was confronted with God’s standard of morality and the truth that there is something within each person that comes from the Lord to assist him in distinguishing between good and evil. When he was challenged to look within himself to see which of the two conflicting approaches to morality was really right, he replied, after some pause, I feel God’s standard of morality is right, which is different from what I have been saying.

Mormon wrote that “the Spirit of Christ is given to every man, that he may know good from evil …” (Moro. 7:16.) He further said that the true way to judge is to be able to discern one’s feelings, “… for every thing which inviteth to do good … is sent forth by the power and gift of Christ …” (Moro. 7:16.)

The reflective thought within a person must be sincere and done with real intent. Many times an individual will lay aside the influence of the Lord in favor of what seems appealing or rational at the moment. Such an individual may fluctuate back and forth in his feelings. If the negative feelings are a true source of inspiration, they will continue to be felt if one really wants to know what he should do.

On one occasion a girl was trying to decide whether or not to marry a certain young man and was confused because at times she felt doubt and uncertainty and at other times was certain she wanted to marry him. When they were together it seemed right, but when she was alone or away from him, there was much doubt and uncertainty. We talked about many things: the kind of person she wanted to marry, the element of trust in marriage, possible reasons for her doubt, and why at times it seemed all right. Toward the end of the conversation she was asked to consider what she really felt was the right thing to do. After a few moments she said that she had really known all along it wasn’t right but had just put aside those feelings. One must follow the counsel of Mormon and “search diligently in the light of Christ that ye may know good from evil …” He then promised, “… if ye will lay hold upon every good thing, and condemn it not, ye certainly will be a child of Christ.” (Moro. 7:19.)

Andy’s bare feet kicked at his reflection in the water. He bit his tongue to keep himself from talking, but it didn’t stop his thoughts. Why can’t I go? I’m twelve now. I could help!
Slowly Andy put his moccasins on and sauntered up the footpath to the house. Disgustedly he kicked into the dirt. The flying pebbles sent the chickens squawking in every direction.
“Andy,” his mother asked, “are you still pouting about your father’s decision?”
“I’m not pouting.” Andy stuffed his hands deep in his overall pockets and leaned against the porch post. “I’m just wishing I could go on the hunt.”
“Maybe next time,” Mother said.
“That’s what you said last time.”
“I know, but the bobcat hunt is not just a game. You’ve heard of the damage that old cat’s done. If the cat wasn’t killing the sheep, the men wouldn’t go either. It’s dangerous! Now come on in, your father’s already washing for lunch.”
“Andy,” Father said as they finished eating, “I’m sorry you can’t go on the hunt. I hope you understand.”
Andy sat back down in his chair. His eyes were glued to his empty plate. “Is Billy going?” he asked.
“No. Mr. Longrun and I decided together that you are both too young. Maybe next time, Son.”
Andy went back out to the porch and sat on the step. At least Billy isn’t going either, Andy thought. But still I wish I could go. I’ve listened to all the men talking at the trading post and I know almost everything there is to know about that cat.
His thoughts were interrupted as a wagon pulled up in front of their house. Billy Longrun jumped out of the wagon and started toward him. He didn’t smile and Andy knew why. Without a word Billy sat down on the steps.
After a long silence Billy finally spoke. “My mother said you could come stay with me while my father is gone.”
Andy began to smile. He remembered what fun it was to stay in a Navajo hogan. If he couldn’t go hunting, this was the next best thing.
“I’m sure Mother will let me go,” he said.
“Let’s ask her now. I don’t want to watch them leave,” Billy said as he pushed his black hair out of his eyes.
Andy’s mother said that he could stay with Billy, and in a few minutes he had a small blanket roll of his belongings collected.
“I’m ready!” he shouted as he ran out the door. “I’ll race you to the black rock.”
Both boys ran as fast as they could to the rock then slowed to a walk, laughing between deep pants as they tried to catch their breath.
“I have an idea,” Andy said when he had his breath back. “While the men are on the hunt, let’s go trapping.”
“That’s a great idea,” Billy said. “Then when they get back we’ll have some pelts to show them.” His black eyes began to shine.
“That way staying home won’t be quite so bad,” Andy said.
Mrs. Longrun was sitting just outside the hogan weaving. Her long black hair was tied back with a piece of bright cloth and her arms and fingers were covered with beautiful turquoise and silver jewelry.
Billy sat down beside her. “Can we go trapping?” he asked.
“If you don’t go for long,” she answered.
“We’ll be back before the sun sets,” Billy promised.
Inside, the hogan was very warm. The fire in the coal stove was still smoldering. There was not a lot of furniture, but Andy recognized the bedrolls stacked against the wall. While he put his bedroll by the others, Billy gathered up the traps.
“Now be careful,” Mrs. Longrun called after them. “Don’t forget the time.”
Andy and Billy tramped through the bushes and grass into the hills, then they followed a large stream into the forest. It did not take long to find several good places to set the traps. Just as the boys started back, Andy suddenly grabbed Billy’s arm and said, “Hey, wait!”
“What is it?” Billy asked.
“What’s that between those two trees way over there?” Billy looked in the direction where Andy was pointing.
“I can’t tell.”
“Let’s go see. We have time,” his friend suggested.
Billy looked at the sun and then nodded in agreement. Quickly the boys made their way over to the trees.
As they came closer Billy grabbed Andy’s arm. “Stop! It’s a shindee hogan.”
Andy had heard his father talk about the Navajo customs, and he knew that when one of them died a new door was cut in the north wall of the hogan for everyone to leave and then the hogan was destroyed. But if for some reason the hogan was not destroyed, it was considered haunted. The haunted hogan was called a shindee and under no circumstances would any Indian go near it.
Slowly the boys found their way back to the stream and started for home. Billy’s mother had supper ready. “Tell your mother about the shindee hogan,” Andy whispered as he took a bite of fry bread. Mrs. Longrun stopped short.
“It was near the river in the forest,” said Billy. “I’ve never seen it before.”
“Was it near the high ledge?” Mrs. Longrun asked.
“Yes, and it was almost hidden by the trees,” Andy told her.
Mrs. Longrun began to smile. “It is not a shindee. It was Littlewolf’s hogan, but it was built in a very bad place. Instead of building on the warm mesa he built in the forest where the sun could give it no warmth. He had to move.”
Very early the next morning Andy and Billy were up and off to check their traps.
The first trap had been sprung, but nothing was in it. However, a skunk odor was so strong that it was almost impossible for the boys to get near enough to reset the trap.
“Wow, that animal left a strong message!” Andy said as they wiped their stinging eyes.
“Let’s get out of here!” Billy motioned for Andy to follow.
They hadn’t gone far when they heard a strange, weak bleating sound.
“Oh no!” Billy pointed to the left. “One of the lambs is caught in our trap.”
The lamb’s front leg was not seriously cut, however, and carefully Andy opened the trap while Billy tried to comfort the frightened animal.
“She’s just scared. She’ll be fine,” Andy said as he patted the lamb’s head.
“We’re not far from that abandoned hogan. Let’s take her there until we finish checking the traps,” Billy suggested.
The boys were almost to the hogan when they heard a noise. Carefully they crept behind a dirt bank so they could see what was causing it. Two bobcat cubs were playfully rolling in front of the hogan.
Quickly the boys ducked down! “The big cat must be near,” Andy whispered. “The man at the trading post said she’d never go far from her cubs.”
They looked again just as the mother cat appeared with her ears pricked, as if she sensed intruders. Then the lamb began to bleat. The hungry old cat tensed and held very still. Billy grabbed for the lamb’s mouth, but it was too late. The cat had heard.
“What will we do now?” Billy asked softly.
“Put the lamb down!” Andy cautioned.
“But we can’t let the cat get her,” Billy protested.
“We won’t,” said Andy. “We’ll just use her for a decoy. Hold the lamb down in that crevice where it will be hard for the cat to see her and I’ll circle around behind the hogan.”
Andy took the downwind side and quickly, but very quietly, circled behind the hogan to where the cubs were still playing. The big cat continued to search for the lamb.
Carefully Andy crawled up behind the cubs and then, when the old cat was out of view, he grabbed one of the cubs by the tail. The cub started squalling.
Andy leaped behind a rock just as the mother cat ran to see what was wrong. She pushed the cubs into the hogan and then came out again, her head erect and alert for intruders.
Andy’s heart was beating so hard that he was afraid the cat could hear it. But she soon disappeared into the hogan. Andy moved cautiously toward the opening of the hogan, slammed the door shut, and put all his weight against it.
“Hurry, Billy, and bring the biggest rocks you can carry,” Andy shouted.
The angry cat growled and pawed furiously at the other side of the door. Andy’s heart was racing faster than ever while he waited for Billy to bring rocks to barricade it. Afterward both boys quickly carried heavy rocks to make the barricade secure. Then they ran home, stopping only to pick up the lamb.
Breathlessly they told Mrs. Longrun what had happened. She listened quietly and then said, “The men were just here. They’ve been hunting the cat all night, but they could not find it. I’ll see if I can catch them and tell them where it is.” And she hurried from the hogan.
In a few minutes Billy’s mother returned. “I told them where to go,” she reported. “You boys did a very dangerous thing. You could have been slashed to ribbons.”
“But I know all about that cat,” Andy insisted. “And we’ve helped everyone by catching it! I’m just glad I listened to the men talking about her at the trading post.”
“Bobcats are smart,” Mrs. Longrun explained. “There is only one thing that really saved you from being attacked. The cat must have thought the intruder was a skunk because that is what you both smell like!”
“Is that why she didn’t come after us?” Andy asked.
“Yes,” Mrs. Longrun answered. “And it’s lucky for you or you might have been in real trouble.”
“I’d be in trouble if I went home smelling like this,” Andy said. Then turning to Billy he added, “I’m glad for that stinky old skunk, but we better wash up good, so my mother will let me in the house tonight or I’ll have to start living in that shindee myself.”

When I was growing up, I was taught that same concept. Since I lived on a farm I had many opportunities to practice making a straight line. When I was plowing I would focus on a point and try to make a straight furrow to that point. When moving sprinkler pipe I tried focusing on one point and making a straight line of pipe. It was more difficult with the pipe because with each pipe I had to find my target and aim toward it, then look away when I went for the next pipe. More that once I found that I had made a straight line but to the wrong point which is worse than making a crooked line to the right point. The Lord expects us to commit ourselves totally to him and live our lives in accordance with his will. As I consider the idea that we shouldn’t look back it occurs to me that whether or not we look back depends on what our starting point is. When I was making a furrow it was important that I not look back but remain focused on my goal. However when I was moving sprinkler pipe I learned that looking back and then looking forward helped me keep aimed in the right direction.

There was an architect in that first company, William Weeks, who had designed the Nauvoo Temple. But the hopeless desolation was too much for him. When President Young went east in 1848, Brother Weeks left, saying, “They will never build the temple without me.”

Truman O. Angell, a carpenter, was appointed to replace him. He said: “If the President and my brethren feel to sustain a poor worm of the dust like me to be Architect of the Church, let me … serve them and not disgrace myself. … May the Lord help me so to do.”

When I was a freshman in college, I had a part-time job at a convenience store in a small town. I had the closing shift, which ended at 11:00 p.m. Despite the relative safety of the community, I would frequently get nervous while closing the store all alone.
One night I felt particularly anxious. As I finished cleaning the store and made my way to the cash register to shut it down, a feeling of dread came over me. I did not have any logical reason for being so afraid, but I could not shake my nervousness. I did not want to overreact by calling the police, but I also wanted to be protected if there was any real danger.
Finally, I knelt to pray. I told Heavenly Father that I was afraid and didn’t know what to do. It was the most sincere prayer I had ever given.
As I stood up, I immediately noticed a vehicle pulling up to the fuel pump nearest to the building. To my surprise and relief, it was a police officer. As he pulled out his credit card to fill his patrol car with fuel, I quickly started my final closing responsibilities. I wanted to take advantage of his protective presence and get as much done as I could before he finished at the pump. When he had finished fueling, he made a call on his cell phone and sat in his car as he talked. He was still there when I locked up and got in my car. Both of us pulled away from the convenience store at the same time.
As I drove home, I was amazed at how quickly my prayer had been answered. I humbly thanked Heavenly Father for listening to me. I had been taught that I was a daughter of God, but until that night I had never felt His love for me so near or so tangibly. Words cannot describe the peace I felt in my heart. I know that the Lord will bless me if I have faith and ask for His help.

It was a beautiful Sunday morning, and Chris Tollstrup was glad to be going to Church with his family—Dad, Mom, Annie, Ryan, and Nicholas. They all just fit on one of the side benches in the chapel. During sacrament meeting, and especially when the bread and water were being passed by the deacons, Chris tried to think about the Savior, as his parents had taught him.
Afterward he went to his Primary class and was greeted by his teacher and friends. The teacher began the lesson by holding up several drawings and asking the class what they thought Jesus Christ would do if He saw each of the situations pictured.
One was a picture of a little girl who had fallen down and skinned her knee. There were also pictures of a boy finding a wallet with a lot of money in it, a beach covered with garbage, a girl eating all alone in the lunch room at school, a child lost in a shopping mall, and a mother who was overwhelmed by all the housework she had to do. It wasn’t too hard to decide that in each case Christ would have been helpful, loving, honest, and kind.
Monday is garbage day in Chris’s neighborhood, and the truck that comes to pick up and empty the garbage cans always seems to drop some trash along the side of the road as it goes from house to house. On the Monday after the lesson about following the Savior’s example, Chris’s Primary teacher was driving home after work. She noticed Chris halfway up the street, lugging a garbage bag that was almost full and nearly as big as he was. She slowed down and watched for a minute. He was picking up the paper and other trash the truck had dropped that day and putting it in the bag. She rolled down the window of her car and asked, “Chris, what are you doing?”
“Do you remember the picture of the beach we looked at in Primary class yesterday?” he asked. “Well, I’m trying to do what Jesus Christ might do if He saw our street today.”

One day my companion and I gave a tour of the Smith family farm to a young family from Ireland. They were recent converts of only two years.

As we stood in the reconstructed log home where Joseph Smith and his family lived in the spring of 1820, my companion and I recounted the important events in Joseph’s childhood that led him to enter a grove of trees to pray to know which church he should join. We shared with them Joseph’s experience when Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ appeared to him and answered his prayer. We then asked them how they had felt when they first learned of Joseph Smith and his First Vision.

I expected them to express the same feelings most people share—that they felt a burning in their heart or that they knew that it must be true because the Spirit they felt was just so powerful. Instead, they said they felt it was “inconveniently true.” That made us pause for a minute. We asked them to explain what they had meant.

They told us that things had been good for them before they heard the gospel, and the idea of changing their comfortable lifestyle seemed like an inconvenience to them. But when they received a spiritual witness that it was true, they knew they had to make a lifestyle change.

Their interesting and sincere testimony impressed us. Because they really had a testimony of Joseph Smith and the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, they were willing to make inconvenient changes in their lives and join the Church. They did so because they knew those changes would be the best thing for their family!

To illustrate the importance of these differences associated with our personalities, I will use an example of my college senior design project. At BYU we call it a capstone project. It is the final, culminating experience of an engineering student’s undergraduate education.

As you may guess from my job here as a mechanical engineering professor, I was, at one time, a mechanical engineering student. To attain this degree, as a senior you must design and build something that solves a given problem. For my senior design project, my group was given the task of creating a cheap machine that would test the strength of objects under a dynamic load. A dynamic load is a force on an object that changes over time: it increases, decreases, and then repeats, increasing and decreasing. For example, all of us sitting here on the stand represent a static load, or a constant force the structure must withstand. But if all of a sudden everyone stood up and started jumping up and down at the same time, this would represent a dynamic load. Our weight is applied and then removed, applied and then removed. I am unsure if this stand has been dynamically tested. Would anyone like to jump with me and find out?

Dynamic loading machines are generally not cheap because they must move, so our goal was to make a cheap one. With a few other senior mechanical engineering students, all of whom had taken the same courses and had the same collegiate educational background, we began brainstorming ideas to solve this problem. In this phase of the design process it became immediately clear that the variety of our life experiences was essential to a good design. Although we all had the same formal training, we each had come from different backgrounds and had spent our free time doing different things. Our individual inspiration for what this machine would look like was also different.

One student, whose parents owned a business melting metals and creating art, had ideas associated with changing the temperature, which would cause expansion and contraction, thus applying an oscillating load. Another student, who enjoyed sailing, discussed systems of pulleys that could change a one-directional loading motion into a rotational loading motion. A few of us rode bikes, and we realized that the rotational motion of the wheels allows for dynamic loading on the wheels as they rotate. With a number of other ideas, and after much discussion, we eventually settled on a disk system in which the rotation would provide the dynamic part of the process but a single connection would allow for one-directional loading.

We moved on to accomplishing ­mathematical calculations, creating computer drawings, building a prototype, and writing a report. In this stage of the process, our individuality in preference became clear. I quite enjoy math and took the bulk of that responsibility. Although I can create computer drawings, one of my teammates was not only better at it but also truly enjoyed creating them, so he put his main efforts there. The same was true for building and writing.

Together we were able to create a cheap, working machine that applied the necessary dynamic loads to the objects to be tested. None of us alone would have come up with the final design we used. Individually we would not have been as ­successful or enjoyed the work as much. It was absolutely necessary for each of us to truly be individuals with different ideas, stemming from different life experiences and different preferences, while all still being qualified mechanical engineers.

Nirina J-Randriamiharisoa of Madagascar currently lives in France while she pursues her education. When she first arrived, she struggled with loneliness and homesickness. “I sought for solace through prayer, scripture reading, and the gentle whisperings of the Holy Spirit,” says Nirina. “These things brought me closer to Heavenly Father and the Savior, and I felt peace.”

In time Nirina made friends and participated in activities within and outside the Church and found happiness. But then some tragic news from home shook her world. “One morning I received a message telling me that my brother had died. I had no idea I could feel such sadness. In the days and weeks that followed, I struggled through moments of loneliness, anger, and despair. Doing even the most basic things became serious challenges.”

A few months later, a close friend also passed away. The added sorrow increased Nirina’s already-heavy burden. For just a moment Nirina considered not attending church, but then she remembered that the same things that had buoyed her in her earlier difficulties could bolster her now.

“As I had when I first moved to France, I sought comfort in prayer, scripture reading, and the Holy Ghost. Through this I discovered more strongly that the Spirit and the doctrine of eternal families can bring us comfort and that the Atonement of Jesus Christ has a real effect in our lives,” she says. “Whatever trials we face, there are no ‘dead ends’ with the Lord. His plan is a plan of happiness.”

I grew up in a rural part of Eastern Idaho and attended a small high school where you knew everyone in the high school. It was very similar to high schools in the Rexburg area, as a large majority of those in my high school were members of our faith. As happens when you have a large percentage of people with similar beliefs, some oft used words and phrases that are common to us as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints became a part of our everyday conversations with no regard for those around us who may not understand the context in which they were used.
I learned of this challenge in an interesting way. After a team practice one evening as our team members were changing clothes, one of my teammates stood up on a bench in the locker room and announced that his younger sister was being baptized that night and we were all Invited to attend. I remember him saying, "It will start at 7 P.M. at the stake center, and we will have food afterwards." As this was something commonplace in my school, I didn't think much about it until my friend who was a member of another faith in the locker next to mine leaned over closer to me and said in a low voice, "It is so cool that you guys have your baptisms in a restaurant! It makes getting to the food part of it so much easier!" I looked at him confused until I realized that his understanding of a stake center was as a steak house restaurant!

I had found the path I had been looking for. I knew I had a Heavenly Father who had given me talents and wanted me to develop them. I found myself loved by people who accepted me the way I was and who taught me how to grow as a person, as a mother, and as a wife. I knew that I had a Father who expected something from me and that I could no longer hide behind my shyness.
I began to learn and progress. I fulfilled several callings in the Church. Through the Relief Society, I learned many things that have helped me grow materially and spiritually. I have participated in dances, theater, and choir. I have organized programs. I have learned several crafts, and now I am studying music.
Today I am nearly 60 years old and currently serve as education counselor in the stake Relief Society presidency. My husband and I also serve in the São Paulo Temple. I am still shy, but I don’t hide myself when I am doing God’s work. The Church has taught me that in the eyes of God there are no inadequate people.

The youth of the Westminster Third Ward (Huntington Beach California North Stake) know the importance of education. Using half the funds they had raised for their youth conference, they donated to the Perpetual Education Fund. Their check was presented to Elder John K. Carmack, emeritus member of the First Quorum of the Seventy, who is the managing director of the PEF.
The Westminster youth responded, along with thousands of other Church members, to President Hinckley’s call to help other Church members become self-reliant and successful (see Ensign, May 2001, 51–53).

Since I consider family history a type of work, I decided to make my own family history book. So I made a compilation of all the pictures of the members of my family. I did that so that my kids and my great-grandchildren will be able to see how their ancestors looked. And while I was doing it, I felt so peaceful because I knew I wasn’t doing it for myself, but I was also doing it for generations to come.
Glory S., 18, Johannesburg, South Africa

Sarah sat on her bed, waiting to hear Mom’s tap on the door. She tried to gulp away the sobs, but tears kept trickling down her face.
Earlier that day, she and her friend Megan were pretending that they had discovered a buried treasure. They placed Sarah’s allowance, some foreign coins from Dad’s mission, and Megan’s plastic jewelry in a shoe box. When Megan saw the old, worn poetry book on the living room shelf, it seemed like the perfect antique to finish off their treasure. “Grab that old book,” she said. “Let’s pretend it’s a diary.”
Sarah knew that she wasn’t supposed to play with it—it had belonged to her great-great-grandmother, and its yellowing pages almost crumbled when touched. Mom cherished it as one of her family heirlooms. But Sarah was sure that nothing bad would happen to it if she borrowed it for only a little while.
She and Megan sneaked out the back door to “bury” the shoe box under some bushes.
A sick feeling welled up in her stomach even before her brother Spencer told Mom.
Mom knocked on the bedroom door and slipped in. “Have you been thinking?” she asked. Sarah nodded. “And how do you feel?”
“Awful.” Sarah sniffled. “I took your book when I knew I wasn’t supposed to.”
Mom smoothed Sarah’s hair and kissed her forehead. “Heavenly Father doesn’t want you to feel awful. He wants you to feel sorry.”
“No problem!” Sarah thought. It seemed that she had been feeling sorry a lot lately.
“I forgive you,” Mom said, “but you need to pray for forgiveness, too. Since you were baptized last month, you are now accountable for your sins.”
“That’s just it!”
“What do you mean?” Mom looked surprised.
Sarah blinked at the floor, hating how puffy her eyes felt. “When I got confirmed, I was given the gift of the Holy Ghost, right?”
“That’s right. As long as you’re worthy, the Spirit will be with you.”
“Then why is it still hard?” Sarah wiped her eyes, angry that the tears wouldn’t stop falling. “I thought that the Holy Ghost would make it easy to be good. But it seems that ever since I’ve been baptized, I’ve made as many mistakes as I did before.”
Mom hugged her. “That’s why there’s repentance. Even when the Holy Ghost helps you know what the right thing is, what you do is still your choice. Sometimes it’s hard to do what you know is right.”
Sarah nodded. She was confused, though. Even before her baptism, she’d had enough sense to know that taking Mom’s book would be wrong, but she’d never been tempted to do it. What had happened today?
Sarah sighed. She’d just have to try harder. When Mom left the room, she got down on her knees to pray.
In school on Monday, Marcus slid his math assignment next to hers.
“Let me check my paper,” he said. “I want to make sure I have the same answers you do.”
Sarah handed him her paper, as she always did, but this time she saw Marcus scribbling out his answers and writing hers down. He wasn’t checking—he was cheating! Sarah knew it was wrong to let Marcus cheat, but she didn’t want to make him feel bad. Wasn’t being nice more important than being honest about one little math assignment? After all, she wasn’t cheating—he was.
A familiar, uneasy feeling crept into the pit of her stomach. Remembering how bad she had felt a few days ago, she yanked her paper away.
“What are you doing?” Marcus cried.
“I can’t let you cheat,” Sarah said. Even though Marcus gave her a dirty look, she didn’t give in to the temptation to let him copy her answers. She realized that she had made a right choice because she felt calm and happy inside. “That’s what the Holy Ghost feels like,” Sarah thought. Her quick decision hadn’t been easy, but she had done what was right.
After school, Mom drove Sarah to Megan’s soccer game. On the way there, Sarah told her about the experience she’d had.
“I’m proud of you, Sarah!” Mom said. “See? You’re learning from your mistakes.”
“I guess so,” Sarah agreed. “Now I know what the Holy Ghost feels like, but I’m still confused about something else.”
“What’s that?”
“I wonder why I think about disobeying lately. I never wanted to touch your book until Megan told me to, and I never wanted to let anyone cheat until today. I almost let Marcus copy my paper, even though I knew I shouldn’t.” Mom was quiet, so Sarah continued. “That isn’t all. Sometimes I’m mean to Spencer. Sometimes swear words pop into my head, and I want to say them. I want to be good, but I keep being tempted!”
“That’s what happens when you join a team,” Mom said. “The opposing team gets mad.”
“What?”
“Think of watching soccer,” Mom said. “It’s obvious that you’re loyal to Megan’s team, because you cheer for them. The other team might not like it, but you’re on the sidelines. You can’t help them to win or lose as much as if you jogged onto the field and started playing.”
“What do you mean, Mom?”
“When you were baptized, you chose sides,” Mom said. “You know that baptism shows Heavenly Father your love and commitment to obey. Don’t forget that it proves to Satan whose side you’re on, too. He’ll tempt you to change your mind.”
“I went to church every week before I was baptized,” Sarah protested. “Didn’t my going to Primary upset Satan just as much then?”
Mom pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine. “You were on the Lord’s side, but you were cheering from the sidelines. Now you’re in the game. Being righteous will take more effort than it has before. And it will take more courage, and it will definitely take more repentance.”
Sarah thought about that. “I guess watching a game is much easier than playing it.” No wonder the gift of the Holy Ghost hadn’t taken away all of her problems. The Spirit could help her see when Satan was tempting her, but the temptations wouldn’t just disappear. “Is that what ‘opposition in all things’ (2 Ne. 2:11) means?” she wondered. She had read in the Book of Mormon that without agency to choose between good and evil, no one could become more like Heavenly Father.
“Even if it’s harder, it’s more worth it to play than to just watch,” Sarah decided aloud.
“Especially when you win,” Mom added with a smile.
Sarah got out of the car and walked toward the field. She silently promised herself that she would really, really try to follow the Holy Ghost, no matter how much she was tempted. She had chosen the Lord’s side. As long as she did her best to be worthy, the Spirit would bless her with the courage to keep choosing the right.
“We cannot sign on for a battle of such eternal significance and everlasting consequence without knowing it will be a fight—a good fight and a winning fight, but a fight nevertheless. …
“Sure it is tough—before you join the Church, while you are trying to join, and after you have joined. That is the way it has always been, … but don’t draw back. Don’t panic and retreat. Don’t lose your confidence.”Elder Jeffrey R. HollandOf the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles(“‘Cast Not Away Therefore Your Confidence,’” Ensign, Mar. 2000, 8.)

Kristen paced back and forth across the room. In the past fifteen minutes she had tried on five different tops and three pairs of shorts. Still, she couldn’t decide what to wear. Today everything had to be just right. She wanted to make sure that nothing, even her clothes, would cause her to lose one of the races.
“Kristen!” her mom shouted. “If you don’t hurry, we’re going to miss the ward party.”
“I’ll be right down,” Kristen called. Quickly she put on her most comfortable outfit, then reached into the closet and grabbed her running shoes.
“Mom,” said Kristen as she entered the kitchen, “what do athletes usually eat just before a big race?”
“Honey, to tell you the truth, I don’t really know. Why do you ask?”
“You know that Brother Reda always has the races right after everyone eats.”
“That’s true.” Kristen’s mom laughed. “But I don’t think that you need to worry about it. You always do well in races. Try to calm down, and let’s just go and have a good time.” “Calm down!” declared Kristen. “How can I? Anthony Nelson will be there bragging about how great he is. He thinks that he’s better than everyone.”
“Well, if we don’t hurry, he won’t have any competition at all.”
When Kristen arrived at the picnic, Anthony was the first to greet her. “You should see the prizes Brother Reda has in the trunk of his car,” he said. “I saw them when he was getting out some folding chairs.”
“And I suppose you think that you’ll be going home with one of those prizes,” teased Kristen.
“One!” Anthony exclaimed. “I just hope that someone will help me carry all the prizes that I win to the car.”
After Kristen had finished drinking her lemonade, she heard Brother Reda announce, “We’re going to start the races! The first one will be a straight run from this starting line to that streamer stretched between those two trees over there. This race is for all ten-to-twelve-year-olds.”
“That’s us,” called Anthony. “Come on, Kristen. I wouldn’t want you to miss this. You’re the one I want to beat.”
Kristen was too nervous to say anything. She glanced around to see who else was running and noticed Matt Powers sitting against a tree. He looked sad as he watched the other kids line up for the race. Kristen remembered how bad she had felt last summer when Matt was in a car accident and lost his left leg. It had taken him a long time to learn how to walk with his artificial leg.
“Everyone get lined up,” ordered Brother Reda. “On your mark, get set, GO!”
Kristen started slowly, and Anthony pulled out in front of her. But she quickly picked up speed as she concentrated on the finish line. The next thing she knew, she was breaking through the streamer. She had won!
“You’re faster than I thought,” Anthony said as he tried to catch his breath. “Congratulations, but watch out! I’m going to beat you in the next race.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself,” Kristen said with a smile, a little surprised at how nice he was being. I wonder if I could handle losing that well.
A few races for the younger children were run next. However, Kristen was too busy looking for a partner for the three-legged race to watch them.
Suddenly Anthony ran up to her. “I have my partner for the three-legged race,” he gloated. “I bet no one will beat Joshua Ellis and me!” Kristen searched the crowd around her, looking for a partner. Her eyes stopped on Matt Powers, who was still sitting on the sidelines.
I must be crazy to even consider him, Kristen thought as she approached Matt. “Hey, Matt, do you want to be in the three-legged race? I need a partner.”
“Me?” asked Matt. He looked puzzled. “Is that a joke?”
“Of course not. I know that we can do it if you’re willing to give it a try,” said Kristen.
“I’m willing if you’re willing.” Matt carefully got up and hurried over to her. He had been rather quiet lately, but now he seemed as lively as he had been before the accident. Kristen tied their inside legs together, and they hobbled up to the starting line.
When everyone was ready, Brother Reda yelled, “Go!”
Kristen and Matt held on tightly to each other as they lumbered down the field. She was surprised at how well Matt could run. At the halfway point, Anthony and Joshua were side-by-side with Kristen and Matt. Then Matt lost his balance, and the two toppled over. “Hurry and get up. We might still be able to make it!” urged Matt as he pulled Kristen to her feet.
A few moments later they fell again. By this time, more teams were catching up and beginning to pass them; Kristen tugged at Matt. “Come on! We may not be first, but let’s not be last!”
As they neared the finish, Kristen could hear Anthony cheering them on. He and Joshua had already finished—first, of course. Kristen and Matt fell forward just as they crossed the finish line. They glanced at each other. Dirt covered both their faces. They started laughing, and soon everyone was laughing with them.
Kristen smiled at Anthony. “It’s my turn to congratulate you,” she said. Then she turned to Matt and winked. Losing’s not that bad, she thought. In fact, it can be a lot of fun.

Jack Reinwand, of the campus police, reported that campus and city officers patrolled the streets to help stragglers move to the college and safety before the flood waters hit Rexburg. “Jim Sessions and I were going up Main Street when we saw a young man, about 15, running up the street as hard as he could go. The water was only two city blocks away, so we pulled over and picked him up. He managed to gasp something about a sister or girl at home.”
The officers raced to the home and the youth dashed inside to get the young lady. There was a delay. The officer and his companion looked up the street, where just one block away the flood, tumbling a house trailer and a Cadillac, was bearing down on them. Brother Sessions, who is also a branch president on the campus, then ran in the house and brought the pair out. They jumped into the car and sped off, scant seconds in front of the flood.

LeAnn, 16, is considering a profession in law. During her sophomore year in high school she took typing and secretarial classes. That summer she found a law firm that was willing to hire her as a receptionist. She was paid better than she would have been in traditional summer work. In addition, she was able to observe the workings of a law firm. She was also improving her secretarial skills and developing a legal background. (A good legal secretary can make 50–75 percent more than a general secretary.)

Since the teens in Ipswich are often the only members in their school classes, they are sometimes put into the situation of teaching their friends, not just about the Church but about truths in life.
In Lucy Fagg’s case, she had to stand up for the gospel in class. The teacher was discussing some things about the Church that were wrong. Lucy tried to avoid confronting her, but her friends kept looking at her and asking, “Is this true?”
Lucy raised her hand. “The Spirit really helped me to know what to say, to tell her and my whole class that I was a member. I also felt comfort, and I was helped to answer the questions that everyone was asking me.”
Mary Mateer had an experience similar to Lucy’s. “One time a girl in my class asked a question, and I couldn’t sit and not say anything. It felt like the Spirit was pushing me. My heart was pounding the whole time. I just remember hearing the Spirit say to me, ‘Speak about Noah. Speak about Moses.’ It was the most amazing experience I’ve ever had. The words concerning Noah were in my mind, clear as day. I remember looking around the room at the people who were listening. You could see they were really listening. I could tell they felt the Spirit and that what I was saying was true.”
Such experiences give the teens here confidence. They know that they are not alone. They can rely on the Lord for help.
For some teens, feeling the Spirit is a daily occurrence. “One of my favorite times is every night when I start reading the scriptures. The Spirit is so strong,” says Joshua Donker. “Every day I look forward to reading my scriptures and writing in my journal.”
When Diogo Serra has a little time left after he has finished taking a school exam, he prays. At first he said very short prayers, but he started thinking that he would pray longer. He says that now “I have a conversation with my Heavenly Father. I tell the Lord about my week, what I’ve done, and ask for help or advice. That really makes me feel closer to Him.”
Some of the teens in Ipswich have felt the comforting Spirit of the Lord when they were in frightening situations. Tirion Guy told a story about being on a boat on the River Thames during a windy, stormy day. “The river was choppy, and it seemed to be getting worse. I remember some of the plates in the kitchen smashed, and the chairs were going everywhere. We had to walk up the sides of the boat so we wouldn’t fall over. While I was on the boat, I felt comforted that everything would be OK. But when we got off, when we were safe and it was calm, then I cried. When I was going through it, I can’t really describe it, but I was comforted.”
Diana Nunes described one thing about the Spirit that everyone seemed to feel but hadn’t put into words. Diana remembered when she had been sent ahead to live with relatives and start school before the rest of her family moved to England. Her father had given her a blessing, promising her that she would have confidence while they were apart. Diana said, “When he finished the blessing, I knew that when I was feeling alone and no one, not even my parents, could help me, the Spirit would be there to comfort me.”
These teens in Ipswich know that there is a place to turn for comfort, for answers to their questions, and to find peace, because they know that the gift of the Holy Ghost has been given to them.