Gospel Story Finder

One time, early in the morning after Mama and I had spent the night with him and Grandma, Grandpa and I went to buy a morning newspaper because the funnies are the best thing to read before breakfast. On the way, he found a big broken branch that made a good walking stick. He pretended to hobble with it, then did a silly hop, skip, and jump. We had more fun than anything!
When we got home, Grandma took one look at Grandpa’s stick and said, “You get that dirty old thing out of the house!” Grandpa just laughed. He lifted her off the floor and swung her around.
“Put me down!” she screeched, but she was laughing too.
Grandpa kissed her before we went into the living room to read the funnies to each other.
That’s the way it used to be.

Now, just one final thought. I sat in a class in Sunday School in my own ward one day, and the teacher was the son of a patriarch. He said he used to take down the blessings of his father, and he noticed that his father gave what he called “iffy” blessings. He would give a blessing, but it was predicated on “if you will not do this” or “if you will cease doing that.” And he said, “I watched these men to whom my father gave the ‘iffy’ blessings, and I saw that many of them did not heed the warning that my father as a patriarch had given, and the blessings were never received because they did not comply.”
You know, this started me thinking. I went back into the Doctrine and Covenants and began to read the “iffy” revelations that have been given to the various brethren in the Church. If you want to have an exercise in something that will startle you, read some of the warnings that were given through the Prophet Joseph Smith to Thomas B. Marsh, Martin Harris, some of the Whitmer brothers, William E. McLellin—warnings which, had they heeded, some would not have fallen by the wayside. But because they did not heed, and they didn’t clear up their lives, they fell by the wayside, and some had to be dropped from membership in the Church.

Before long, a shiny new chapel will be completed in Paterson, New Jersey. It’s currently under construction, and all the Church members in the Garden State’s third largest city are pretty excited.
But for now, members of the Paterson Second Branch still attend church in the annex of the Paterson City Hall, a building the branch rents for its meetings.
And though some members may not notice, the annex is cleaner than any other building on the street.
Fourteen-year-old Hector “Tito” Hernandez knows why.
In downtown Paterson, and especially on Market Street, where the annex is located, pigeons gather everywhere and leave—ahem—their marks on the buildings. Although clean on the inside, the outside leaves something to be desired.
When Tito joined the Church three years ago, he first attended the Caldwell Ward. When he moved into the Paterson Second Branch, he noticed how messy the annex’s exterior was. That started him to thinking. After discussions with his branch president, Tito decided what needed to be done.
So each Friday, Tito shows up at the building to make sure it is clean for Sunday services.
A little hot water, some soap, and a lot of effort on the granite building always do the trick. Even the mailbox, which sits right outside the front door, gets the treatment. At first, due to years of neglect, Tito had his work cut out for him. “The first couple of times were hard. But every week that went by, it got easier and easier,” he says.
“We want people to join our church,” Tito adds. “It makes me feel pretty good because I know [nonmembers] look at our church. I want the building to look nice for them.”
The routine is set. Tito gets out of school then either walks, rides his bike, or gets a ride downtown from his home on 10th Avenue. It might be 95 degrees outside or the wind could be howling while snow falls. It doesn’t matter. Tito is going to be there cleaning the place.
And Tito isn’t working solo any more. What started out as a project by himself has evolved. Now he’s enlisted the help of fellow ward members Jose Jimenez and Jose’s younger brother, Edwin. The trio arrive at the building, and the caretaker lets them in. They grab the familiar red bucket, fill it with soap and water, and head out the door for a few minutes of cleaning. The boys, huge sports fans, then fill their cleaning time with discussions about which basketball player has the best jump shot or who is baseball’s best shortstop.
Funny how fast the time goes when you’re doing something worthwhile.
Funny how good they all feel when they’ve finished the job.
“We do it for free,” says Jose, 13. “We want to because we do it for God.”
Tito and Jose also understand the importance of example as Aaronic Priesthood holders, especially for Edwin, who turns 12 later this year.
“Tito and Jose are teaching me how to become a deacon,” Edwin says. “They show me how the priesthood works. I want to be an honest, respectable young man.”
And sometimes being honorable and respectable means you have to be up to your armpits in suds.

I may not have met him physically, but spiritually I feel I have. Whenever I read his inspired messages, I imagine him talking to me one-to-one with his hand on my shoulder. A First Presidency Message entitled “Life’s Obligations” (see Ensign, Feb. 1999, 2) helped me understand that although income is important, I do not need to be a multimillionaire to be happy. This message has brought me inner peace and satisfaction.
Encouraged also by the prophet’s counsel in that same message not to waste the great days of preparation for my future work, I decided to enroll in a computer engineering training college for one year. I was undertaking my one year of National Youth Service in Nigeria and resolved to use my time judiciously. At the end of the program, I knew how to repair and install computer systems. Now my first successful appointment after my year of service is based on my added knowledge of computer systems.

“Okay, class, we have just about five minutes left for journal writing,” says Mr. Haupt, our sophomore English teacher. “And since Christmas is next week, I want you to write about the one thing you want more than anything else. I’m not terribly concerned about structure at the moment. I do, however, want details. Lots and lots of concrete details. As I’ve said before, well-chosen details make the difference between lifeless writing and writing that …” Mr. Haupt startles us all by taking in a sudden rush of air through his nostrils, “… that breathes.”
Writing that breathes. Only an English teacher, even if he is good-looking in a ’70s kind of way, could say something so truly undecipherable.
I can hear the rustle of paper all around me as kids fish for their class journals. “I hate it when he makes us write in these dumb things,” grumbles the girl behind me.
Usually I feel the same. Only today I know exactly what I’m going to write about. In fact, I can practically feel the words surging through my pen, getting ready to
“Wanted: a guy for Christmas. Should be very tall and slim like Jed Campbell. Should have green eyes like Jed Campbell and also light brown hair with streaks of sun like Jed Campbell. Should look really great in a pair of stone-washed jeans like Jed Campbell. Should adore pizza and Hires root beer like Jed Campbell. Should walk and talk like Jed Campbell. Should, in fact, be Jed Campbell.”
As you may have guessed by now, I have a major crush on Jed Campbell, who happens to sit on the back row of English class. My three older sisters (one’s married, one’s on a mission, one’s away at college) always tease me about my crushes, saying that I fall in and out of love more often than some people (namely me) clean up their bedrooms. But it’s different this time. This is it. The real thing. I’ve felt this way since November.
Here’s the best part. I think maybe he likes me too. Sometimes he waits for me after class, and he always smiles at me in the hall. Yesterday at lunch he and his friend even sat down by me and my friends. I think that’s a good sign.
The bell rings. I slam my journal shut and stuff it in my backpack, then get up to leave.
“Cynthia?”
Did you just hear that loud pounding noise? Well, it’s my heart.
“Oh, hi, Jed.”
He falls into step next to me as we walk out of the classroom and into the hall.
“Hey,” he says, “I was wondering if you wanted to do something tonight. Maybe we could go to a movie.” Jed smiles, and I can’t help but notice what white teeth he has. That would be another good detail to add to my paragraph.
“A movie would be great,” I say.
“So I’ll pick you up around 6:00. Okay?”
“That would also be great.”
“Great.”
We both laugh before splitting up and going to our separate classes. I practically float through the door. Sometimes life is just so fine, don’t you know.
When I get home from school, I can hardly wait to tell Mom my big news about Jed. She’s tending my five-year-old nephew, Travis, on the couch next to our Christmas tree, reading The Cat in the Hat. Travis is the son of my big sister Emily and her husband, Gary.
“Cynthia! Thank goodness you’re home!” Mom looks pretty frazzled. I’m dying to tell her about tonight, but I can tell she’s really stressed, so I do the mature thing and ask her what’s going on in her life first.
“What isn’t ‘going on in my life?’” Mom replies, standing up and brushing back a strand of hair. “Your father is still out of town. I’m supposed to be at a meeting as we speak, both Gary and Emily have to work late tonight, and Travis’s baby-sitter canceled on them at the last minute. I’ve been staying with him until you could get home.” She looks at me, expectantly.
“Oh, no. Not tonight. I definitely have plans.”
“Cynthia, honey, please. This is an emergency.”
I have to admit she does look like someone getting ready to appear on an episode of Rescue 911.
“But, Mom …”
“But, Cynthia …”
I fold my arms across my chest and tap my foot. “Okay, fine.” I really hope she can tell how happy I am not.
Mom puts an arm around my shoulder. “You’re the best, Cynthia. You have no idea how much this helps.”
Then she turns to Travis, who is still sitting on the couch pretending to read. He’s doing his Cat in the Hat voice right now: “Give me all your hats, you guys, or I’m gonna bite your legs off.”
“Travis, Cynthia will take care of you for the next little while. Okay?”
He looks up for a second and flashes me a smile. Then Mom unloads the rest of the bad news. “Gary gets off at 9:00, and Emily doesn’t finish closing out until 10:00. I’m not sure when I’ll be home, but I have a feeling it will be late.”
Of course. Naturally. I didn’t have something else I really wanted to do tonight. Sometimes life is just so not fine.
Mom flies out the door, pulling her coat on as she goes, and I go to the telephone to call Jed. I’m both relieved and disappointed when I get the answering machine.
“Jed, it’s me, Cynthia. Hey, things are kind of desperate here. It turns out I have to baby-sit my nephew, Travis, so I can’t go out tonight. I’m really sorry.” I pause, “So anyway, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
There. I’ve just ruined my one and only chance for true happiness in this life and possibly in the next.
“Hey, Cynthia,” says Travis, joining me. “Wanna play G.I. Joes with me?”
I sigh. “Sure, Travis. Go get your guys.”
Before I know it, he’s got everything set up in the middle of the living room floor. He gets to be the good guys. I get to be the bad guys.
“Heh, heh, heh,” I say, using my best bad guy voice, “Let’s go wipe out the Joes.”
Travis gives me a withering look. “That’s not how they talk, Cynthia.”
Don’t you just love it when a five-year-old starts giving you instructions? He tells me what I have to say and where I get to move my guys. In other words, I’m just the furniture mover.
Travis and I play G.I. Joes for about half an hour, which I think is pretty nice of me. Enough, however, is definitely enough.
“Hey, Travis, I’m getting tired. Why don’t you watch cartoons for a little while?” Actually, I want some time to think about not going out with Jed tonight. I’m in the mood to suffer.
Travis grumbles, but in the end he trudges into the family room by himself where he flips on the television. Naturally he leaves his stuff all over the floor for me to pick up, which I do. Then I collapse in a chair by the living room window and watch the snow fall. It’s five o’clock. Just another hour from now I might have been going to a movie.
“Cynthia?”
It’s Travis already.
“Will you play Old Maid with me?” he asks.
What I want to say is, Thanks to you, Travis, I am an old maid. But instead I give him a weak smile and say, “Maybe later.”
It’s not that I don’t think Travis is a real cute kid. He’s got a killer grin and these huge brown eyes that usually knock my socks off. I don’t even mind baby-sitting him most of the time. But tonight, I have to be honest, Travis is getting on my nerves in a big way.
“Go get your coloring book and color for a little while,” I tell him.
“Will you color with me, Cynthia?”
“Not right now.”
“Please. Pl-e-e-e-e-a-a-a-s-e.”
“No!” I snap. “I want to be alone right now, Travis. Okay?”
He doesn’t say a thing, just looks at me for a long time, then turns around and walks back to the family room.
So what do you think? Don’t you agree that I’m entitled to have a little time to myself, especially after my big sacrifice and everything?
Then why do I feel like such an incredible jerk?
I try to shake off the feeling by watching the snow some more. It’s really coming down hard, and the flakes are so huge they almost look like those old-fashioned doilies you see draped on the backs of overstuffed chairs. When I was a kid, I absolutely loved storms like this. I’d bundle up and run outside and try to catch snowflakes on the tip of my tongue. Maybe you did the same thing too.
Something pricks at me. My conscience maybe? Sometimes I really hate my conscience. I heave a sigh and walk into the family room where Travis is busy pretending to be a ninja.
“Hey there, Travis.”
He totally ignores me and gives the air a deadly kick.
“Do you want to go outside and play in the snow with me?” I ask.
Travis drops the ninja routine and turns with a full-court smile. “YES!”
So the two of us stuff ourselves like sausages into winter clothes and run outside where we make angels and throw snow into each other’s face. Pretty soon the neighbor’s big black Newfoundland dog, Rudy, joins us, his tail swishing behind him like a flag. I know from past experience that this dog definitely has a special talent.
“Hey, watch this, Travis.” I lightly pack a snowball and throw it in Rudy’s general direction. He bellows out a bark and lunges, catching up the snowball in his mouth.
Travis laughs, then throws Rudy another snowball. Sure enough, Rudy snags that one too, just like he’s playing shortstop for the Yankees.
We keep this up until our arms are tired.
“No more, Rudy,” I say. Rudy, who looks pretty disappointed for a dog, lumbers back to his front porch and resumes residence.
Travis drops backwards in the snow and makes another angel, but this time, instead of getting up, he just stares at the night sky, full of stars. “I wonder if that star is still up there somewhere.”
“Which star?”
“You know, Cynthia. The one over the barn where Baby Jesus was born.”
“The Star of Bethlehem,” I say, smiling. “I don’t know where it is now.”
“I know what!” Travis springs to his feet. “Let’s go find it!”
I start laughing until I realize I’ve made Travis feel stupid. I used to hate it when grown-ups did that to me, even though I realize now they didn’t mean to.
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s go look for it.”
So Travis and I start walking around the block, looking for the Star of Bethlehem. When he’s not throwing his head back to search the sky, Travis is running ahead, singing Christmas carols at the top of his lungs. He doesn’t know most of the words, but that’s okay. He’d rather make up his own. All I know is that I suddenly love the sound of his high-pitched voice ringing across the evening snow.
And then the most amazing thing happens.
Travis stands beneath a street lamp and looks up to the sky again, but this time his whole face is shining, filled with light. The forgotten words of an old Primary “Jesus once was a little child, a little child like me.”
I almost stop breathing, and it’s suddenly as though the winter air around me is warm and full of the smell of the sea and the sound of gulls laughing and that the boy in front of me is another little boy from long ago, standing on the shore, his hair and face blazing with sun.
The moment passes, and it’s just me and Travis again, looking for stars. We finish our trip around the block, Travis still blasting through a billion songs and kicking snow with his feet, me bringing up the rear more slowly.
“Who’s that on the porch, Cynthia?” Travis wants to know as we round the corner. I squint to see through the night.
You’re really not going to believe this. It’s Jed.
“Hey, you guys,” he says, walking toward us with that loping step I just love. In fact, he looks so adorable right now I could just faint dead in the snow. “I wanted to know if you want to go to 7-Eleven and buy some hot chocolate with me.”
Travis whoops, and I smile. Sometimes life is just so fine.
Later when I’m in bed, I’m still thinking about how fine life can be but also about how it can take you so totally by surprise. Let me give you an example of what I mean, since Mr. Haupt, our English teacher, always says that specific examples make your writing stronger.
I got the guy I wanted for Christmas all right, and he’s even more wonderful than I imagined he would be. It just turns out there was something I wanted even more, only I didn’t even know it.
What I really wanted was to feel the presence of the Savior in my life, and thanks to a five-year-old kid, I did.
So, Travis, even though I know you’re home asleep right now, surrounded by the zoo of stuffed animals you take to bed with you every night even though it drives your mother crazy because there’s no room left for you, I have something I want to say.
I love you, Travis. Merry Christmas.

Some while ago, I went to visit my son who was studying in Rexburg, Idaho. He, his wife and I went out to dinner at a restaurant where people stand in line to get served. It was full of students excited for graduation and the end of the semester. I noticed a young lady come in by herself, looking somewhat lonely and overwhelmed by the noise and activity around her. I felt prompted to invite her to sit with us. As she got her food, she walked by us and made her way to a table by herself. At that moment, I thought, “Oh, she’ll think I’m strange if I invite her to sit with us,” and I let the prompting pass. I remember waking up about 2:30 a.m. the following morning thinking “What if she had really needed our help and friendship?” I got out of bed onto my knees and prayed that someone else might help her where I had failed. I also determined then that I would try never to let that kind of prompting or the opportunity to lift another pass again.

Fifty-eight years ago, I knocked on the door of J. Roland Sandstrom, patriarch of the Santa Ana California Stake, with a recommend from my bishop to receive a patriarchal blessing. We had never met and would not meet again for 14 years. We met again 15 years later. This time, as one of the Twelve, I blessed him the day before he died.
The blessing was delivered by mail to my barracks at an air force base where I was stationed. I did not know then, as I know now, that a patriarch has prophetic insight, that his blessing would be more than a guide to me. It has been a shield and a protection.
The patriarch, who had never seen me before, made a promise that applies to every one of us. He told me to “face toward the sunlight of truth so that the shadow of error, disbelief, doubt and discouragement shall be cast behind you.” Many times I have gained strength from reading that patriarchal blessing given by an inspired servant of the Lord.

All my life, missionary work has been stressed. But I thought, “I’m just a teenager. What can I do?”
I learned what I could do while on a visit to Temple Square with my sister. I wanted to leave and watch my favorite television show, but my sister wanted to stay a little longer. Then a feeling came over me that told me we should stay. While we were sitting on a bench, a young man came over and sat down beside us. The feeling came to me again urging me to talk to him.
What was I supposed to talk about? I looked over and saw that he had a pamphlet on genealogy. I asked him, “Do you understand what you’re reading?”
At first he said yes, then changed his mind. I explained a little about genealogy and started talking about eternal families. He talked about his family in England and started asking questions. He seemed genuinely interested in the answers I gave.
We walked into one of the visitors’ centers. I shared many of my own experiences, and he told me some of his. As we talked, the principles that I had been taught all my life in church suddenly began to have new meaning.
Toward the end of our visit, he asked me if I felt what he felt there on Temple Square. I asked him what he meant, and he said it was the same kind of feeling he had when he went to Jerusalem. He said it was the feeling he had felt that encouraged him to come to Salt Lake City. I told him that I did know what he was feeling.
This experience reminded me of a verse from the Doctrine and Covenants I had learned in seminary. “And now, if your joy will be great with one soul that you have brought unto me into the kingdom of my Father, how great will be your joy if you should bring many souls unto me!” (D&C 18:16).
I felt ready to burst with love and happiness that I could share the message of the gospel. I know that it doesn’t matter how old you are if you want to share the gospel. Opportunities for missionary work are all around, even if you are “just a teenager.”

Our school baseball team has had a wonderful season. I am pitching for the team, and we are undefeated. I am the only Mormon on the team, and I have several of the boys plus the coach interested in the Church. They often ask me questions about the Church, and I do my best to answer them. Because of the number of playoffs, the final game determining the league championship will be held this Sunday. The winner of the game is sent to the state championship. We have been working all season for this next meet, and I found out too late that this one game is to be played on the Sabbath, so there is no replacement for me in the pitching position. I don’t know what to do because if I don’t play the team will not only lose the game and hence the state championship, but they will also lose all interest in the Church!
“A few years ago, BYU was playing in a basketball tournament on the east coast. Because of bad weather, games had to be cancelled and rescheduled on a Sunday. The team wired Salt Lake City to ask for counsel on whether or not they should play on Sunday. The counsel from the General Authorities was no.
“The boy in the situation said that many members of the baseball team were interested in the Church. It would be best for them to see someone who puts the Lord first. We must remember that the Lord cannot bless us if we don’t keep the commandments. What the Lord thinks should guide our decisions, not what others think. Keep the commandments and don’t play.”
Elder Ric WilcoxGeorgia-South Carolina Mission
“What this young man should ask himself is how interested his teammates would be in the Church if he did play on Sunday and thus proved that the principles in which he claims to believe are not important to him. Would his friends be interested in a church that could not, in a real test, hold up as this young man’s guiding standard?”
Teresa D. BickleyTacoma, Washington
“In this situation I would feel a need to kneel and discuss with my Heavenly Father his solution to my problem.
“First Nephi 3:7 states: ‘I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.’ (1 Ne. 3:7) The Lord has given us the commandment to keep the Sabbath day holy by partaking of the sacrament and thus renewing our covenants with him.
“I’ve discovered that nonmember friends are influenced most by example. If you allow yourself to break one of your Heavenly Father’s commandments, just this once, you may never be able to convince those interested in the Church that the gospel is true.
“Be a ruler of circumstances; don’t let circumstances rule you.”
Joanne StephensonRiverside, California
“We’ve been put on this earth to be tested and prove ourselves worthy to return to our Heavenly Father. Many times it is difficult to know exactly which way to turn, and which way will be best for others as well as ourselves. However, we’ve been told many times never to compromise and never to give in to the things of the world. So I think the boy should stand up for what our church believes and not play that game on Sunday. And when his teammates see him do that, they will admire him and our church. They’ll get the idea that our church really has something to it, and most likely they’ll investigate it.
“At the time the boy tells the team, they may hate him and make fun of him, but he should take it well, and in time his reward will come. Remember what the Lord promised Joseph Smith in his difficult times: ‘And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.
“‘The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?
“‘Therefore, hold on thy way, and the priesthood shall remain with thee; for their bounds are set, they cannot pass. Thy days are known, and thy years shall not be numbered less; therefore, fear not what man can do, for God shall be with you forever and ever.’ (D&C 122: 7–9.)
“And that is quite a promise, so the boy should make his stand and do what’s best for the Church, his teammates, and especially for himself.”
Darrell BackSalt Lake City, Utah
“If he does play the Sunday game, his teammates may not lose interest in the Church, but is he going to explain to them that the principles of the Church are the most important things in members’ lives except for the commandment about keeping the Sabbath?
“If this boy could get together with his teammates and explain his principles to them and get the whole team on his side, then they could probably get the game rescheduled. This way the team’s interest in the Church might be increased, and they would have greater respect for the principles of the gospel.”
Corey Christensen, Kay Adamson, Tonya Allen, Lisa Poulsen, Marva Ashton, Dennis Huggard, Lisa Hartshorn, LoRee Johnson, Steve Broadbent, Dave DortonLehi, Utah

Roger met Janey at Welfare Square. Let me tell you about Janey.
She had been born with cerebral palsy. She was badly crippled, but she had been able to attend school and had recently graduated from high school. This was a tremendous accomplishment; but now, after several months of searching, her family had found it impossible to obtain employment for her. Her bishop asked if there was something Janey could do. She needed to keep busy. In answer to this challenge, the storehousekeeper suggested that Janey be brought to the storehouse the next morning.
After Janey had been at work seven hours, her mother came to take her home. Janey was smiling with pride. She had labeled a dozen cans. There was a pile of spoiled labels on the floor, but they weren’t important. The important thing was her smile. It was there because she felt useful and had pride in her accomplishment. She was willing and anxious to return the next day and continue trying.
Within a month’s time, Janey was doing a good job of labeling cans. She hardly wasted any labels. As her skill in using her hands increased, she was given greater challenges. At the end of three years she was assigned the delicate job of packing eggs after they had been candled.
Janey and her family are truly happy because she has learned through the welfare program to be a contributing member of society.
Roger and Janey fell in love with each other and were married in the Salt Lake Temple for time and all eternity.

In another city, a young mother with little children and her husband are surprised and overwhelmed but accept when she is called to serve as ward Relief Society president. Shortly thereafter, ice storms cut electric power, leaving store shelves empty and homes as cold as iceboxes. Because they have power and heat, this young family generously opens their home to several families and individuals to weather the storm.

Just like Esther, Joseph Smith, Joseph of Egypt, and many other scriptural figures, you can have the courage to stop your friends from speaking inappropriately about others. I was going through the same situation, and I had the courage to talk to my friends in a loving and understanding way. In the end, they accepted and understood how important it is to use pure and worthy language! Besides reading the scriptures and praying, fasting helps a lot in those situations. Pray and ask with faith that our Heavenly Father will give you the courage to speak and touch the hearts of your friends.
Paola H., 17, San Salvador, El Salvador

I once had a friend who said offensive things to someone close to me. His words were disappointing, but I decided to approach him and tell him how I felt. The next time we saw each other, he thanked me for reminding him of his goodness, and I learned that he had apologized to my other friend and made amends.
As Elder Marvin J. Ashton (1915–1994) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught: “It takes courage to be a real friend. … A friend is a person who will suggest and render the best for us regardless of the immediate consequences.”3 It was scary to be honest with my friend, but that’s what spiritual allies and true friends do—they help each other to grow, to become more Christlike, and to progress on the covenant path.

Moisés swung open the gate and walked into the car parts shop. School was over, and it was time to help Papá at work. Moisés grabbed a broom and started to sweep. He liked to help Papá. He even got to earn some money.
Soon it was time for Moisés to leave. He said goodbye to Papá and started to walk home. He felt sad as he walked. It always felt strange to go home without Papá. Moisés’s parents were separated. He and his seven siblings lived with Mamá. Papá lived somewhere else. Mamá worked three jobs because they didn’t have much money. It was a hard time for all of them.
One day there was a knock at the door. It was two missionaries. They shared a message about Jesus Christ. They also taught about a prophet named Joseph Smith. Moisés felt something special inside as he listened.
The missionaries kept coming back to teach Moisés, Mamá, and some of his siblings. Moisés and his family started going to church. They read the Book of Mormon. They stopped drinking coffee. They even chose to be baptized!
Moisés learned that Heavenly Father loved him. And even though things were still hard for his family, he felt more comfort and peace.

I always wanted to go to Africa and see the animals, and finally that opportunity came. …
We stopped at a water hole to watch the animals come to drink. It was very dry that season and there was not much water, really just muddy spots. When the elephants stepped into the soft mud the water would seep into the depression and the animals would drink from the elephant tracks.
The antelope, particularly, were very nervous. They would approach the mud hole, only to turn and run away in great fright. I could see there were no lions about and asked the guide why they didn’t drink. His answer, and this is the lesson, was “Crocodiles.”
I knew he must be joking and asked him seriously, “What is the problem?” The answer again: “Crocodiles.”
“Nonsense,” I said. “There are no crocodiles out there.” …
He could tell I did not believe him and determined, I suppose, to teach me a lesson. We drove to another location where the car was on an embankment above the muddy hole where we could look down. “There,” he said. “See for yourself.”
I couldn’t see anything except the mud, a little water, and the nervous animals in the distance. Then all at once I saw it!—a large crocodile, settled in the mud, waiting for some unsuspecting animal to get thirsty enough to come for a drink. …
The guide was kinder to me than I deserved. My “know-it-all” challenge to his first statement, “crocodiles,” might have brought an invitation, “Well, go out and see for yourself!”
I could see for myself that there were no crocodiles. I was so sure of myself I think I might have walked out just to see what was there. Such an arrogant approach could have been fatal! But he was patient enough to teach me.

Not too long ago, I was struggling with stress, boundaries, and feelings of inadequacy at my job. I was also having a difficult time navigating some conflicts in my marriage. I seemed to be completely frozen with thoughts of “I don’t know what to do” and “What would someone ‘normal,’ who doesn’t have these problems, do?”
I didn’t understand why I couldn’t handle conflict well. It seemed like I was constantly in a lose-lose scenario. The lack of confidence I had in myself and the absence of tools to deal with my constant stress made my problems feel all-consuming.
They were all that I thought about.
During this time, my husband and I were meeting with our bishop to learn how to address some concerns we weren’t sure how to deal with, and he invited us to participate in a pilot test for the Church’s new emotional resilience course.
I was skeptical because I felt that I didn’t have the ability to deescalate some of the difficult feelings I was having. The title of the course didn’t proclaim, “Learn how to get rid of your problems today!” or “You have anxiety? End it here!” And subconsciously, I think I was trying to find some magical fix-all solution that would eliminate the pent-up negativity and anxiety I was carrying.
But when we began the course, we discussed a scripture that struck me—John 10:10: “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.” I realized then that I truly wanted to live life more abundantly. I didn’t want to be swallowed up in my afflictions and hardships anymore. I was willing to be open and hear the whisperings of the Spirit and learn what the Lord wanted me to know through this course.
Week after week, I felt the tools and knowledge I was gaining through the course help me slowly shift my mindset regarding my struggles and change my negative habits. And as I have looked over the notes I scribbled in the course workbook, I’ve seen how much I’ve grown from the lessons!
This course changed the way I thought about my stress and reassured me that all the struggles we have aren’t inherently bad. I became more comfortable with the difficult emotions I feel during challenges and have been able to better recognize sweet reassurances from the Spirit telling me that things will be OK.
The second chapter of the manual covers healthy thinking patterns and outlines several exercises that helped me learn how to break down my thoughts, determine whether they are accurate, and root out why some of them are inaccurate. These exercises invited me to look for the negative behaviors within myself that I was never aware of. And in doing so, I realized that on some level, I have always believed that I am exempt from pain. But through the exercises, I slowly started realizing that life was not going to be pain-free—it would always be full of hard times.
Surprisingly, I started feeling a sense of relief in this truth. I finally accepted that it was OK to struggle during challenges and realized that there wasn’t something wrong with me if I needed help. I learned that challenges are meant to help us grow. They are all part of the journey, and the ones I was going through at work and in my marriage were going to help me grow on my path back to Heavenly Father.
For me, the most impactful part of this course, apart from all the positive changes it helped me make, was how all the course materials pointed me to the Savior, Jesus Christ. The course’s format was divinely inspired. From its language to the focus of the lessons, it helped me become more confident in myself and in what the Savior can help me do.
For instance, the course taught me how the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ can help me work through situations that give me anxiety. I learned to turn to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ in moments of self-doubt and remember that I am good enough. I discovered that through God we can truly accomplish anything, and if I continued to have false perceptions about who I was or the challenges I was facing, I was only preventing myself from deepening my faith and experiencing growth. As Elder Ulisses Soares of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, “Through Jesus Christ and His atoning sacrifice, we can experience a mighty change of mind and heart, bringing a fresh attitude, both toward God and toward life in general.”1
The course elaborated on some complex topics, but it also taught about simple topics that can improve our everyday life, like knowing how to appropriately respond to someone who is struggling,2 realizing that it’s OK to acknowledge discomfort,3 recognizing signs of depression,4 and understanding how meditation and mindfulness can help us reconnect with ourselves, Heavenly Father, and Jesus Christ.5
By combining counseling and this course, I was able to find the boost of strength I needed to make positive changes in my life. The Spirit taught me that I had the power to advocate for what I needed at work and that having faith in the Lord would help me access that power. I learned to ultimately accept that I needed to move on from my job if things didn’t change and that moving on wasn’t a bad thing. I also gained the courage to humbly and honestly work with my husband to once again foster peace and connection in our marriage.
In my manual, I wrote down a moment of gratitude for an interview I had at a new potential place of employment. I ended up getting the job, and I can remember the feelings of joy and peace that washed over me as I leaned into the discomfort of change. That aha moment came as I recognized that I had grown in a positive way and that my own efforts and the help of Heavenly Father and the Savior had allowed me to find success.
I’ve found that 2 Nephi 2:24–25 has resonated with me lately:
“But behold, all things have been done in the wisdom of him who knoweth all things.
“Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.”
In my opinion, to find success is to have joy. And my success is taking all this new knowledge and moving forward with hope and optimism, recognizing that the Lord helped me learn so I could live “more abundantly” (John 10:10).
I truly believe that living joyfully and abundantly is what the Lord wants for everyone. As the manual says, part of emotional resilience is being able to handle stressful situations and adapt to life changes with courage and faith in Christ.6
The Lord loves us, and He “descended below” all things (Doctrine and Covenants 122:8) so that we could inherit all, conquer our challenges, and have joy. I invite you to take advantage of this amazing course that helped me change my life and realize that while things might not always work out in the way that we want, they can always work out for our benefit because of Jesus Christ (see Doctrine and Covenants 90:24; 122:7).

Many years ago I heard a story that impressed me. I share it with you today as I endeavor for a few minutes to direct your thinking toward the important word peace. A beautiful little blind girl was sitting on the lap of her father in a crowded compartment in a train. A friend seated nearby said to the father, “Let me give you a little rest,” and he reached over and took the little girl on his lap.
A few moments later the father said to her, “Do you know who is holding you?”
“No,” she replied, “but you do.”
Some might be inclined to say, “What a perfect trust this child had in her father.” Others may say, “What a wonderful example of love.” And still others might say, “What an example of faith.” To me it indicates a beautiful blending of all of these principles, which brought a priceless inner peace to the child. She knew she was safe because she knew her father knew who was holding her. Affection, respect, and care over the years had placed in this little girl’s heart a peace that surpasseth all understanding. She was at peace because she knew and trusted her father.
We plead for peace in our prayers and thoughts. Where is peace? Can we ever enjoy this great gift while wars, rumors of wars, discord, evil, and contention swirl all around us? The answer is yes. Just as the little blind girl sat on the stranger’s lap with perfect contentment because her father knew him, so we can learn to know our Father and find inner peace as we live his principles.
It is very significant that when Jesus came forth from the tomb and appeared to his disciples, his first greeting was, “Peace be unto you.” (Luke 24:36.) Peace—not passion, not personal possessions, not personal accomplishments nor happiness—is one of the greatest blessings a man can receive. Our trust and our relationship with our Heavenly Father should be one similar to that of the little blind girl and her earthly father. When sorrow, tragedy, and heartbreaks occur in our lives, wouldn’t it be comforting if when the whisperings of God say, “Do you know why this has happened to you?” we could have the peace of mind to answer “No, but you do.”
Just as the little girl could sit peacefully on the stranger’s lap because her father knew him, so we can find peace if we know our Father and learn to live by his principles.

One young man strayed from the Church for years before finally returning. At a testimony meeting he said: “I got involved in a lot of things I shouldn’t have in an effort to fit in with the popular group, but I always knew something was missing. When I finally repented and returned to full activity in the Church, I didn’t feel that void anymore. I came back, and through the forgiveness of Jesus Christ and His perfect love, I know this is where I belong.”

I love everything about Christmas: the lights, carols, time with family—everything we do to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Oh, and I especially love getting presents. I start making my Christmas wish list in September.
One year my list was about as long as my arm. And I kept thinking of things to add to it. I was excited to show it to my dad. “Well, David, I see what you want to get for Christmas,” he said as he looked it over. “But what are you going to give?”
“I’m making gifts for you and Mom at school. On Friday Mom is taking me shopping for Shannon’s and Jon’s gifts. So I’ve got it all planned out.”
“Hmmm,” was all Dad said. For some reason he didn’t like my answer. I didn’t like the sound of “hmmm.”
The next family home evening, my parents discussed the idea of giving and getting and the true meaning of Christmas. I could see my wish list getting shorter by the minute. They asked us if we had any ideas to help us remember to be more giving. Shannon waved her hand excitedly. My older brother, Jon, and I groaned. With Shannon, ideas usually involved doing things for other people, like weeding our neighbors’ gardens.
“Let’s choose some people who are lonely or in need and anonymously leave presents on their doorsteps,” Shannon said with excitement.
“Not a bad idea,” Jon said. “It would be top secret.”
“This might actually be fun,” I thought.
We all agreed that it would be a great plan. We chose two families. One was the Swenson family in our ward. Since Brother Swenson had gone back to school, they never seemed to have enough money. They had lots of kids too, who would love getting Christmas surprises. The other family was Mr. and Mrs. Perez, an older couple who lived down the street. They always seemed a little lonely.
We all went shopping for the gifts. We agreed to buy them using some of the money we would have used for our own presents. That was fine with me. I was having way too much fun choosings toys for the younger Swenson boys. Somehow my stuff wasn’t that important anymore.
We decided to give one gift a night to each family starting 12 days before Christmas. When the first night came, I dressed in black from head to toe, and Jon drove me over to the Swensons’ house. I quietly put the first gift on the porch, rang the doorbell, and ran away as fast as I could. I jumped behind a fence just as one of the kids opened the door. I could hear their surprised voices as they discovered the present. I felt like I would explode with excitement and joy. My life as a Secret Giver had begun.
Things only got better—and harder. We had to go at different times every night and sometimes even in the morning because the Swenson kids started looking out the window to try to catch us. And every time I crept up to the Perez’s doorstep, I imagined Mrs. Perez waiting there, ready to fling the door open, give me a hug, and tell me how wonderful I was. I definitely had to avoid that. Keeping a secret was half the fun.
Well, that year was only the beginning. The Christmas after that, we chose a family whose daughter had been in the hospital 11 times that year and another family whose mom had cancer. Wow—I didn’t realize that some people had it so tough. Now that Christmas is here again, we’ve decided to help three families. The hardest part is choosing them. There seem to be so many people who could use a little Christmas cheer.
As for my own list? Each year it has gotten a little shorter. I’m so busy making my Secret Giver plans that I don’t have much time to think about myself. There are gifts to choose and strategies to plan.
One thing is certain—it’s great doing things for others. Nothing beats the feeling I get when I see the surprise and excitement on the faces of the people we help. Giving has become one of my favorite things about Christmas.

As I have traveled far and wide throughout the world fulfilling the responsibilities of my calling, I have come to know many things—not the least of which is that sadness and suffering are universal. I cannot begin to measure all of the heartache and sorrow I have witnessed as I have visited with those who are dealing with grief, experiencing illness, facing divorce, struggling with a wayward son or daughter, or suffering the consequences of sin. The list could go on and on, for there are countless problems which can befall us. To single out one example is difficult, and yet whenever I think of challenges, my thoughts turn to Brother Brems, one of my boyhood Sunday School teachers. He was a faithful member of the Church, a man with a heart of gold. He and his wife, Sadie, had eight children, many of whom were the same ages as those in our family.
After Frances and I were married and moved from the ward, we saw Brother and Sister Brems and members of their family at weddings and funerals, as well as at ward reunions.
In 1968, Brother Brems lost his wife, Sadie. Two of his eight children also passed away as the years went by.
One day nearly 13 years ago, Brother Brems’s oldest granddaughter telephoned me. She explained that her grandfather had reached his 105th birthday. She said, “He lives in a small care center but meets with his entire family each Sunday, where he delivers a gospel lesson.” She continued, “This past Sunday, Grandpa announced to us, ‘My dears, I am going to die this week. Will you please call Tommy Monson. He will know what to do.’”
I visited Brother Brems the very next evening. I had not seen him for a while. I could not speak to him, for he had lost his hearing. I could not write a message for him to read, because he had lost his sight. I was told that the family communicated with him by taking the finger of his right hand and then tracing on the palm of his left hand the name of the person visiting. Any message had to be conveyed in this same way. I followed the procedure by taking his finger and spelling T-O-M-M-Y M-O-N-S-O-N, the name by which he had always known me. Brother Brems became excited and, taking my hands, placed them on his head. I knew his desire was to receive a priesthood blessing. The driver who had taken me to the care center joined me as we placed our hands on the head of Brother Brems and provided the desired blessing. Afterward, tears streamed from his sightless eyes. He grasped our hands in gratitude. Although he had not heard the blessing we had given him, the Spirit was strong, and I believe he was inspired to know we had provided the blessing which he needed. This sweet man could no longer see. He could no longer hear. He was confined night and day to a small room in a care center. And yet the smile on his face and the words he spoke touched my heart. “Thank you,” he said. “My Heavenly Father has been so good to me.”
Within a week, just as Brother Brems had predicted, he passed away. Never did he dwell on what he was lacking; rather, he was always deeply grateful for his many blessings.