When our youngest child was six years old and in the first grade at school, her teacher gave the children an in-class writing assignment. It was October, the month of Halloween, a holiday observed in some parts of the world. While it is not my favorite holiday, I suppose there may be some innocent and redeeming aspects of Halloween.
The teacher passed out a piece of paper to the young students. At the top was a roughly drawn picture of a mythical witch (I told you this was not my favorite holiday) standing over a boiling cauldron. The question posed on the page, to encourage the imaginations of the children and to test their rudimentary writing skills, was “You have just drunk a cup of the witch’s brew. What happened to you?” Please know that this story is not being shared as a recommendation to teachers.
“You have just drunk a cup of the witch’s brew. What happened to you?” With her best beginner’s writing, our little one wrote, “I will die and I will be in heaven. I will like it there. I would love it because it is the best place to be because you are with your Heavenly Father.” This answer likely surprised her teacher; however, when our daughter brought the completed assignment home, we noted that she was given a star, the highest grade.
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I Am a Child of God
Summary: A first-grade teacher gave a Halloween writing prompt about drinking a witch's brew. The speaker’s young daughter wrote that she would die and be in heaven with Heavenly Father, expressing joy at the thought. Her response surprised the teacher, who still awarded the highest grade. The story illustrates a child's clear sense of divine identity.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Other
Children
Death
Education
Plan of Salvation
Testimony
Traveling with a Missionary Prophet
Summary: At an old hotel in Dortmund, the stern manager remarked that he felt goosebumps whenever President Kimball walked through the lobby. After being introduced, he spoke briefly with the prophet, received a family home evening manual, and arranged to take the missionary discussions. When the group departed, the manager waved goodbye with a white handkerchief, clearly moved by the encounter.
In Dortmund, Germany, during the last area conference on this trip, we stayed in an older, beautiful hotel. The manager was an austere, tall, straight, gray-haired Prussian gentleman. He looked as if he could have been an officer in the army. On the second day after arriving at the hotel, the manager commented, speaking of President Kimball, “Every time that man walks through this lobby, I feel goose bumps all over me.” He felt the spirit that radiates from President Kimball. After making that remark he was introduced to the prophet. President Kimball spoke with him briefly and gave him a family home evening manual. Arrangements were made for him to receive the missionary discussions.
The hotel manager was vividly influenced by that very brief contact with the living prophet. On the day we left, we boarded a bus in front of the hotel and drove around the block, passing the hotel again because of the one-way streets. As we passed the hotel, this handsome, stately gentleman was standing outside on the sidewalk waving good-bye to President Kimball with his white handkerchief. It was significant that the hotel manager could feel the Spirit of the Lord just by watching our prophet walk through the hotel lobby. You know, President Kimball looks like any one of the rest of us. Some may not think that there is anything unusual about his appearance—but there is an unusual spirit that he carries with him.
The hotel manager was vividly influenced by that very brief contact with the living prophet. On the day we left, we boarded a bus in front of the hotel and drove around the block, passing the hotel again because of the one-way streets. As we passed the hotel, this handsome, stately gentleman was standing outside on the sidewalk waving good-bye to President Kimball with his white handkerchief. It was significant that the hotel manager could feel the Spirit of the Lord just by watching our prophet walk through the hotel lobby. You know, President Kimball looks like any one of the rest of us. Some may not think that there is anything unusual about his appearance—but there is an unusual spirit that he carries with him.
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👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Other
Apostle
Family Home Evening
Holy Ghost
Missionary Work
Reverence
Heroes and Heroines:John Deere—Friend of the Farmer
Summary: John Deere began as a blacksmith apprentice in Vermont and worked hard to build a successful shop despite setbacks. After moving to Illinois, he invented the first successful steel plow, which transformed farming on the prairie. His business grew into an internationally recognized company, and he remained proud of his craft until his death.
When John was seventeen, he began work as an apprentice blacksmith to Captain Benjamin Lawrence of Middlebury, Vermont. During the next four years the tall youth became a skilled craftsman.
By the time John was thirty years old, he was married and owned his own blacksmith shop. Twice his shop was destroyed by fire, but each time he quickly rebuilt it, and he worked longer hours to make up for his losses.
Besides his regular work, John designed pitchforks, hay and manure forks, hoes, and shovels. The tools he made were sturdier and easier to handle than the ones the farmers had been using.
In 1836, John Deere decided to move west to Grand Detour, Illinois. There he opened a blacksmith shop and sent for his family. The farmers recognized John’s skills and kept him busy. The iron plows that the farmers were using, which worked satisfactorily in the east, quickly caked with the clayey prairie soil and constantly had to be cleaned. In order to grow crops and feed their families, the farmers needed a plow that would clean itself as it made the furrows. Otherwise, they would be forced to leave their farms and return to the east.
John began experimenting on a design for a better plow. One day when he visited a local sawmill, he saw a shiny circular saw blade that had been thrown away because it was broken. John wondered if the prairie soil would cling to a moldboard and plowshare made of polished steel. He took the broken steel blade back to his blacksmith shop and put his idea to work.
The news spread throughout the village that he was making an improved plow. And when the tall, rugged blacksmith carried it on his broad shoulders to Lewis Crandall’s field, farmers from the surrounding area were there, waiting anxiously to see if it would work.
John hitched the light but sturdy steel plow to Crandall’s horse, grasped the polished hardwood handles, and slapped the reins. As the horse moved forward, the plowshare bit into the soil. The soil curled away from the moldboard! The crowd pressed closer with growing excitement.
“By cracky, it’s clean!”
The blacksmith plowed another furrow. “It moves right along and polishes itself as it goes!” an old-timer cried excitedly.
One by one each farmer took a turn behind the plow. At last everyone was satisfied. John Deere had invented the first successful steel plow.
The “Self-Polisher” became so popular that John Deere and his friend Leonard Andrus became partners. During the next year they produced three new plows. The business continued to prosper, but in 1846 John and his family moved to Moline, Illinois, to start a new company. At first he used high quality steel from England for his plows. Later a mill in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, made the steel for the John Deere plows.
John continued to improve his plows, and he always used only the best materials in their manufacture. It was a proud moment for John Deere when one of his plows won an international award in France. Soon his plows were being ordered from all over the world. John Deere’s son, Charles, became a partner in the business in 1858, and five years later a son-in-law joined the company.
John Deere had become one of the world’s greatest plow makers. Today farm implements bearing his name are recognized everywhere for their fine quality.
During a visit to Vermont before his death at eighty-two, John Deere saw some of the farm tools that he’d made there as a young man. They were still in use and highly prized. He was deeply touched, for above all things, John was proud of being a good blacksmith.
By the time John was thirty years old, he was married and owned his own blacksmith shop. Twice his shop was destroyed by fire, but each time he quickly rebuilt it, and he worked longer hours to make up for his losses.
Besides his regular work, John designed pitchforks, hay and manure forks, hoes, and shovels. The tools he made were sturdier and easier to handle than the ones the farmers had been using.
In 1836, John Deere decided to move west to Grand Detour, Illinois. There he opened a blacksmith shop and sent for his family. The farmers recognized John’s skills and kept him busy. The iron plows that the farmers were using, which worked satisfactorily in the east, quickly caked with the clayey prairie soil and constantly had to be cleaned. In order to grow crops and feed their families, the farmers needed a plow that would clean itself as it made the furrows. Otherwise, they would be forced to leave their farms and return to the east.
John began experimenting on a design for a better plow. One day when he visited a local sawmill, he saw a shiny circular saw blade that had been thrown away because it was broken. John wondered if the prairie soil would cling to a moldboard and plowshare made of polished steel. He took the broken steel blade back to his blacksmith shop and put his idea to work.
The news spread throughout the village that he was making an improved plow. And when the tall, rugged blacksmith carried it on his broad shoulders to Lewis Crandall’s field, farmers from the surrounding area were there, waiting anxiously to see if it would work.
John hitched the light but sturdy steel plow to Crandall’s horse, grasped the polished hardwood handles, and slapped the reins. As the horse moved forward, the plowshare bit into the soil. The soil curled away from the moldboard! The crowd pressed closer with growing excitement.
“By cracky, it’s clean!”
The blacksmith plowed another furrow. “It moves right along and polishes itself as it goes!” an old-timer cried excitedly.
One by one each farmer took a turn behind the plow. At last everyone was satisfied. John Deere had invented the first successful steel plow.
The “Self-Polisher” became so popular that John Deere and his friend Leonard Andrus became partners. During the next year they produced three new plows. The business continued to prosper, but in 1846 John and his family moved to Moline, Illinois, to start a new company. At first he used high quality steel from England for his plows. Later a mill in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, made the steel for the John Deere plows.
John continued to improve his plows, and he always used only the best materials in their manufacture. It was a proud moment for John Deere when one of his plows won an international award in France. Soon his plows were being ordered from all over the world. John Deere’s son, Charles, became a partner in the business in 1858, and five years later a son-in-law joined the company.
John Deere had become one of the world’s greatest plow makers. Today farm implements bearing his name are recognized everywhere for their fine quality.
During a visit to Vermont before his death at eighty-two, John Deere saw some of the farm tools that he’d made there as a young man. They were still in use and highly prized. He was deeply touched, for above all things, John was proud of being a good blacksmith.
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👤 Other
Adversity
Education
Employment
Self-Reliance
“Truth Will Prevail”
Summary: Ben loved performing in the pageant but learned its true purpose was to invite all to come unto Christ. After a performance, a young man told Ben he’d felt prompted to serve a mission, and they embraced in tears. Ben realized that helping others feel truth mattered more than the production itself.
For Ben H., 18, of North Lanarkshire, Scotland, the pageant was a great opportunity to share his faith and love of the restored gospel. Ben enjoyed his time performing, but the best lesson he learned was the importance of the gospel principles taught in the pageant. “The most important thing I learned was that the purpose of the production was to invite all to come unto Christ,” Ben said. While mingling with the audience at the end of a performance, Ben met a young man his age who had received a prompting during the pageant to serve a mission. The young man hugged Ben and thanked him for the performance. “He and I were both crying, and I was touched. I knew that was the reason I was there participating in the pageant.”
And even though he enjoyed his time on stage, Ben recognizes that the work doesn’t stop at the end of a performance or a pageant. “It doesn’t end when the production ends, because the production wasn’t the important thing. The important thing was that I was learning to be a missionary” and that others were learning about gospel truth.
And even though he enjoyed his time on stage, Ben recognizes that the work doesn’t stop at the end of a performance or a pageant. “It doesn’t end when the production ends, because the production wasn’t the important thing. The important thing was that I was learning to be a missionary” and that others were learning about gospel truth.
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👤 Youth
Holy Ghost
Missionary Work
Teaching the Gospel
Testimony
Young Men
Saints in Hyderabad, India
Summary: In Hyderabad, India, Madhu Bunga describes how attending his first Church meeting helped him feel the Spirit and brought him joy. He explains that he stays strong through seminary and service, while other Church members also strengthen one another through meetings, family worship, and community projects. The story concludes by showing members helping at a boys’ shelter and emphasizing that the Spirit continues to unite Saints in Hyderabad and across India.
Like Israel, 17-year-old Madhu Bunga remembers the first time he attended a Church meeting and felt the Spirit.
“I was glad to see so many strangers come and sit beside me and talk to me about my life,” says Madhu, who attended his first Church meeting in December 2000. “I was amazed how people taught and approached things by the Spirit of God. I loved it, and I ran to my house, thinking all the world was in my hands.”
Madhu and other young members of the Church keep the Spirit in their lives by attending church and seminary and participating in service projects in the community.
“I am the only member of the Church in my family,” says Madhu. “To stay strong, I attend seminary regularly. We have done many service projects, like going to a charity to teach children English, fun stories, and games. I went with the young men and women to a government hospital to paint the walls, and we helped Church members when they moved.”
Joseph Cornelius, president of the Hyderabad First Branch, also recognizes the importance of service and attending Church meetings to feel the Spirit.
“Members have service projects like collecting clothes for the orphanage once a year,” says President Cornelius. “We attend all the Church meetings an dactivities. WE have family prayer and family home evening.”
Recently members from the Hyderabad First and Second Branches collected old clothing and bought rice and cereal to give to a boys’ shelter. The people who run the shelter go to a train station in the area, find boys who are living there, and bring them back so they have a place to sleep. Schooling and counseling are also provided at the shelter.
When Church members arrived at the shelter, they were warmly greeted. After much visiting and an exchange of games and laughter, members sanded down the walls of the shelter, which were in dire need of repair. Paint was donated and applied, giving the shelter a clean, cheery appearance.
Whether it is at the service projects or in friendly gospel discussions, the Spirit continues to whisper the gospel to many in Hyderabad. Though soft, the language of the Spirit is clear, uniting Saints across one of the most populous countries in the world.
“I was glad to see so many strangers come and sit beside me and talk to me about my life,” says Madhu, who attended his first Church meeting in December 2000. “I was amazed how people taught and approached things by the Spirit of God. I loved it, and I ran to my house, thinking all the world was in my hands.”
Madhu and other young members of the Church keep the Spirit in their lives by attending church and seminary and participating in service projects in the community.
“I am the only member of the Church in my family,” says Madhu. “To stay strong, I attend seminary regularly. We have done many service projects, like going to a charity to teach children English, fun stories, and games. I went with the young men and women to a government hospital to paint the walls, and we helped Church members when they moved.”
Joseph Cornelius, president of the Hyderabad First Branch, also recognizes the importance of service and attending Church meetings to feel the Spirit.
“Members have service projects like collecting clothes for the orphanage once a year,” says President Cornelius. “We attend all the Church meetings an dactivities. WE have family prayer and family home evening.”
Recently members from the Hyderabad First and Second Branches collected old clothing and bought rice and cereal to give to a boys’ shelter. The people who run the shelter go to a train station in the area, find boys who are living there, and bring them back so they have a place to sleep. Schooling and counseling are also provided at the shelter.
When Church members arrived at the shelter, they were warmly greeted. After much visiting and an exchange of games and laughter, members sanded down the walls of the shelter, which were in dire need of repair. Paint was donated and applied, giving the shelter a clean, cheery appearance.
Whether it is at the service projects or in friendly gospel discussions, the Spirit continues to whisper the gospel to many in Hyderabad. Though soft, the language of the Spirit is clear, uniting Saints across one of the most populous countries in the world.
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👤 Youth
👤 Church Members (General)
Charity
Conversion
Education
Friendship
Holy Ghost
Service
Testimony
Young Men
Samantha’s Witch Cookies
Summary: Samantha decides to bake and deliver witch-shaped cookies to neighbors as a kind Halloween surprise. Caught in a rainstorm, she takes refuge in a homeless shelter and shares her cookies with the people there, delighting a little girl. Although she misses trick-or-treating, she feels it was her best Halloween because of the joy of serving.
I want to do something really nice for Halloween, Mary Kathleen,” Samantha said to her doll as she laid her on the bed. “It’s only Saturday. We ought to be able to think of something to do by Monday that would surprise everyone.” Samantha thought and thought as Mary Kathleen seemed to stare at her with big blue eyes. “It’s harder to think of nice tricks to play on Halloween than bad ones,” Samantha moaned.
Samantha wandered down to the kitchen, where her mother was baking cookies. “Mmmm, they smell good, Mom. Can I help?”
“Sure, honey. I’ve rolled out the dough. Will you cut out the cookies?” As Samantha placed them on the cookie sheet, they reminded her of faces. Suddenly she smiled brightly and held up a big round cookie. “Mom, can I make some witch cookies and take them to all our neighbors on Monday? It could be a Halloween family home evening treat for them.”
“I thought that you wanted to go trick-or-treating,” Mom said.
“I can do that, too, if I have time. But I want to do something nice for our neighbors first.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” said Mom. “Let’s get started. I’ll make an extra batch of cookie dough.”
While the extra cookies were baking, Samantha made white icing for the witches’ faces, red for their eyes and noses, and chocolate for their hats. Then she started decorating the faces. She had to work as fast as she could to be finished by bedtime.
Monday after school, Samantha took a stack of paper lunch sacks, wrote “Happy Halloween” on each sack, and placed ten cookies in each one. Then she put on her witch costume and made up her face to look like her cookies. Mom laughed. “I don’t know which looks scarier,” she said, “you or your cookies.”
It looked like a storm was on its way, so Samantha quickly put her sacks into a small laundry basket and started down the street. First she went to the Porters’. They answered the door so fast that all she could think to say was, “Happy Halloween.” She giggled and waved as she left. Samantha decided to go to the fire station next. Brother Sanchez, her Primary teacher, worked there. I’ll really surprise him, she thought as she headed for the station. On the way Samantha saw a group of her friends from school.
“Hi, Sam,” one of them yelled. “What do you have in your basket?”
“Witch cookies to give out for Halloween.”
“You must be kidding! You’re supposed to get treats on Halloween, not give them away. Think of all the fun and goodies that you’re going to miss.”
“I’ll go trick-or-treating as soon as I get these delivered,” Samantha explained. But as the other girls headed for the new subdivision, Samantha thought, Maybe I will miss out on a lot.
Just then Samantha felt a big drop of rain. Then another and another. Suddenly the rain was pouring down. Samantha looked for a place to get out of the downpour. The nearest building was a shelter for the homeless. Samantha ran through the front door.
“Look what the storm blew in,” a kind-looking man said. “A real live witch with a basket full of tricks.” Samantha looked around. The room was small but warm. Several people, including children, were sitting around a long table, eating crackers and hot soup. Some of them were shy, but most smiled at her. “Would you like a bowl of soup to warm you?” the man asked.
Samantha was cold and starting to get hungry. “Could I call my mom first to let her know where I am and ask her if it’s all right?” she asked.
“Sure. There’s a phone over there.”
Samantha called her mom, who said she could stay. “I’ll come and pick you up in a half hour. Then you might still have time to go trick-or-treating before family home evening.”
Everyone teased Samantha about her laundry basket of tricks as they ate their soup. The more they teased, the more she smiled, because she knew what she was going to do. When they had all finished eating, Samantha felt warm and comfortable. Everyone else there seemed to enjoy having a Halloween witch with them. She got up and picked up her basket.
“Before I go, I want to show you what’s in my basket. Instead of tricks, I have treats for you.” She passed out the cookies until everyone had some.
“Oh, look—witch cookies! Real witch cookies, just for us!” exclaimed a little five-year-old girl as she smiled at Samantha. Everyone thanked Samantha, and she felt happy about what she had done.
When her mom came to pick her up, it was still raining hard, and Samantha knew that she would be doing no trick-or-treating that night. But it didn’t matter to Samantha—it had still been the best Halloween ever!
Samantha wandered down to the kitchen, where her mother was baking cookies. “Mmmm, they smell good, Mom. Can I help?”
“Sure, honey. I’ve rolled out the dough. Will you cut out the cookies?” As Samantha placed them on the cookie sheet, they reminded her of faces. Suddenly she smiled brightly and held up a big round cookie. “Mom, can I make some witch cookies and take them to all our neighbors on Monday? It could be a Halloween family home evening treat for them.”
“I thought that you wanted to go trick-or-treating,” Mom said.
“I can do that, too, if I have time. But I want to do something nice for our neighbors first.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” said Mom. “Let’s get started. I’ll make an extra batch of cookie dough.”
While the extra cookies were baking, Samantha made white icing for the witches’ faces, red for their eyes and noses, and chocolate for their hats. Then she started decorating the faces. She had to work as fast as she could to be finished by bedtime.
Monday after school, Samantha took a stack of paper lunch sacks, wrote “Happy Halloween” on each sack, and placed ten cookies in each one. Then she put on her witch costume and made up her face to look like her cookies. Mom laughed. “I don’t know which looks scarier,” she said, “you or your cookies.”
It looked like a storm was on its way, so Samantha quickly put her sacks into a small laundry basket and started down the street. First she went to the Porters’. They answered the door so fast that all she could think to say was, “Happy Halloween.” She giggled and waved as she left. Samantha decided to go to the fire station next. Brother Sanchez, her Primary teacher, worked there. I’ll really surprise him, she thought as she headed for the station. On the way Samantha saw a group of her friends from school.
“Hi, Sam,” one of them yelled. “What do you have in your basket?”
“Witch cookies to give out for Halloween.”
“You must be kidding! You’re supposed to get treats on Halloween, not give them away. Think of all the fun and goodies that you’re going to miss.”
“I’ll go trick-or-treating as soon as I get these delivered,” Samantha explained. But as the other girls headed for the new subdivision, Samantha thought, Maybe I will miss out on a lot.
Just then Samantha felt a big drop of rain. Then another and another. Suddenly the rain was pouring down. Samantha looked for a place to get out of the downpour. The nearest building was a shelter for the homeless. Samantha ran through the front door.
“Look what the storm blew in,” a kind-looking man said. “A real live witch with a basket full of tricks.” Samantha looked around. The room was small but warm. Several people, including children, were sitting around a long table, eating crackers and hot soup. Some of them were shy, but most smiled at her. “Would you like a bowl of soup to warm you?” the man asked.
Samantha was cold and starting to get hungry. “Could I call my mom first to let her know where I am and ask her if it’s all right?” she asked.
“Sure. There’s a phone over there.”
Samantha called her mom, who said she could stay. “I’ll come and pick you up in a half hour. Then you might still have time to go trick-or-treating before family home evening.”
Everyone teased Samantha about her laundry basket of tricks as they ate their soup. The more they teased, the more she smiled, because she knew what she was going to do. When they had all finished eating, Samantha felt warm and comfortable. Everyone else there seemed to enjoy having a Halloween witch with them. She got up and picked up her basket.
“Before I go, I want to show you what’s in my basket. Instead of tricks, I have treats for you.” She passed out the cookies until everyone had some.
“Oh, look—witch cookies! Real witch cookies, just for us!” exclaimed a little five-year-old girl as she smiled at Samantha. Everyone thanked Samantha, and she felt happy about what she had done.
When her mom came to pick her up, it was still raining hard, and Samantha knew that she would be doing no trick-or-treating that night. But it didn’t matter to Samantha—it had still been the best Halloween ever!
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👤 Children
👤 Parents
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Other
Charity
Children
Family Home Evening
Kindness
Service
Running on Faith
Summary: A high school runner faced a conflict between resting for the state track meet and joining a ward trip to the Manti Utah Temple. Choosing the temple, they felt peace and didn't think about running while serving. The next day, they ran their best and felt blessed for prioritizing temple service.
During May, I had the opportunity to run in the Utah High School State Track Championships. I ran in three events, and it was a great experience. But my state track experience did not compare to the experience I had the day before the meet.
For a few months, my ward had been planning to go to the Manti Utah Temple to perform baptisms for the dead. I was so excited to go, but then I found out it was the day before the state track meet. I wasn’t sure what I should do. I had been working all season to prepare for my events, and I thought I needed as much rest as possible before I ran. We’d definitely get home from the temple late, and I needed to be in bed earlier than that.
I asked myself, “What is more important: getting rested for state track or serving at the temple?” I knew where the Lord wanted me to be and where I wanted to be, so I was determined to be there.
At the temple, I felt the Spirit of the Lord, and it brought me great peace. I didn’t even think about running the whole time I was there. I knew I was in the right place, helping others who had gone before me. The feeling was wonderful!
The next day, my nerves were calm, and I ran the best I ever had. I knew I was blessed because of my faith in choosing to go to the temple. I have a testimony of the temple, and I know the value of the work that goes on there. This experience is one that I will treasure in my heart forever.
For a few months, my ward had been planning to go to the Manti Utah Temple to perform baptisms for the dead. I was so excited to go, but then I found out it was the day before the state track meet. I wasn’t sure what I should do. I had been working all season to prepare for my events, and I thought I needed as much rest as possible before I ran. We’d definitely get home from the temple late, and I needed to be in bed earlier than that.
I asked myself, “What is more important: getting rested for state track or serving at the temple?” I knew where the Lord wanted me to be and where I wanted to be, so I was determined to be there.
At the temple, I felt the Spirit of the Lord, and it brought me great peace. I didn’t even think about running the whole time I was there. I knew I was in the right place, helping others who had gone before me. The feeling was wonderful!
The next day, my nerves were calm, and I ran the best I ever had. I knew I was blessed because of my faith in choosing to go to the temple. I have a testimony of the temple, and I know the value of the work that goes on there. This experience is one that I will treasure in my heart forever.
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👤 Youth
Baptisms for the Dead
Faith
Holy Ghost
Obedience
Peace
Sacrifice
Service
Temples
Testimony
Prairie Line(Part 2)
Summary: Seth is left in charge of his grandfather’s dairy farm and, after two missionaries help him through a crisis, he learns how to pray and begins reading the Book of Mormon. Their teachings about answers to prayer and the Restoration help him grow in faith. When Grandpa returns from the hospital, he is skeptical at first, but he reads the book, sees the missionaries’ goodness, and invites them to come again.
Seth is running a dairy farm for his grandfather, who is in the hospital. When Grandpa’s best cow has trouble calving, Seth doesn’t know where to turn. His father is busy with the roundup, and Seth is too small to deliver the calf himself. Mrs. Bowers, the telephone switchboard operator, tells him to pray, but he doesn’t even know how to do that. Then two LDS missionaries come calling. One of them, a rancher, delivers the calf and teaches Seth how to pray.
The next two weeks seemed to fly by with the help of Elder Wood, the tall young man from the city, and Elder James, the rancher. Elder Wood kept the house spic and span, and Elder James helped Seth in the barn. As the missionary and the boy worked side by side, Elder James taught him more about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
“Elder James,” Seth said one morning as they milked, “I like to pray, and it makes me feel good. But how do I know if I get an answer?”
Elder James continued to milk Sweetie with strong but gentle hands. “Well,” he said thoughtfully, “there are several ways. Mostly you start with faith that you’re really talking to your Heavenly Father. Then you learn to know when you get an answer. Some people just feel good, some feel peaceful, and some get ideas. Every person is different, and different problems sometimes require different kinds of answers.”
Seth thought about it. He did feel peaceful when he prayed, and sometimes new thoughts did seem to come into his mind.
Elder James continued. “When I was young, I liked to listen to the testimonies of prophets. I felt that if they could get direct answers to prayer, then I could too.” He carried his bucket of milk to the barn door, covered the bucket, and picked up a clean one. Then he leaned over the stall and looked at the boy for a minute. “Just keep praying and listening for answers,” he said. “It’s kind of like milking. At first it’s hard. You just have to keep trying and gaining strength. Soon, real soon, you get good at it.”
Seth finished milking his cow and stood up. He stretched and turned to the man. “Who were those prophets you were talking about—the ones who got answers to prayer?”
Elder James moved his milking stool next to Seth’s. “Sit down, boy,” he said, “and I’ll tell you about Joseph Smith.”
Seth listened intently. The story he heard filled him with amazement. A boy not much older than he was had actually talked to God and had seen His face! “Do you really believe that?” Seth asked.
“I really believe it.”
“This is important! Why doesn’t everyone know?”
Elder James shook his head sadly. “Not everyone believes that God would talk to a young boy. But He did, and great things have happened as a result.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for one thing, Joseph Smith received a record of people who lived on this continent hundreds of years ago. He translated the record and had it published in a book.”
“I’d like to see that book,” Seth said eagerly. “Do you have a copy?”
“Yes I do, and I’ll give it to you.”
Seth couldn’t even speak for a moment. Books were very expensive in Wyoming in the 1920s. “Th-Thank you,” he stammered. “Will you tell me more about it, please?”
They moved over to the last two cows, and as they milked, Elder James told him story after story from the Book of Mormon. Seth couldn’t seem to hear enough. “What happened to all those people?” Seth asked as they strained the milk.
“Well, the Nephites were all killed in battle. Some of the Indians in North and South America are what’s left of the Lamanites.”
Seth stared at him. “Really? Do they know that they’re the Lamanites?”
Elder James laughed. “Some—those who have read the book—do. It touches something inside of them. It’s very close to the traditions of their fathers.”
After the Elders left, Seth had so much to think about that he forgot to call his family. When the telephone rang, he jumped.
“Are you all right, Seth?” his mother’s worried voice asked.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I just forgot to call.”
“Is everything ready for Grandpa?”
“Everything’s ready.”
Grandpa was coming home from the hospital the next day. Seth and the Elders had made sure that everything was clean and shiny. Elder Wood had even baked a cake, and it sat on the pantry shelf, covered with a clean cloth.
“We’ll be over after supper tomorrow,” Mom promised. “It’ll be good to see you, son. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, Mom,” he said, and his voice got husky. Up till now, he’d been too busy to be homesick.
“I love you, Seth,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”
When Grandma’s Model T came up the dusty road, Seth was waiting on the porch. It was wonderful to see them! Grandma bustled around and helped Grandpa out of the car. Seth got hugs from both of them before he carried in their bags and parcels.
“My, it’s good to be home!” Grandma said. “I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep or a good meal since we left.”
“Me either!” Grandpa whispered weakly and chuckled.
Seth saw the twinkle in Grandpa’s eye and felt comforted. Grandpa was still Grandpa, even if his body seemed different. Seth helped get Grandpa settled in bed, then pulled a chair up to the bed and began his report on the farm.
“Sweetie’s giving more milk than ever!” he announced proudly. “And her calf is going to be as good as she is.” Then he told Grandpa about the missionaries helping with the farm.
“Who are these missionaries?” Grandpa asked with a scowl. “I don’t like strangers messing around with my animals.”
“They’ll be here this afternoon, and you can meet them. You’ll like them,” Seth promised. He ran out of the room and returned with his Book of Mormon. “While you’re waiting, you can read this book they left me. It’s about Jesus Christ.”
Grandpa continued to scowl. “It’s not the Bible! I don’t want to read it!”
“It’s really interesting,” Seth said, ignoring the scowl. “There’s a story about a good king named Benjamin. He worked as a farmer so the people wouldn’t have to support him.”
Grandpa’s gray brows came together, and Seth could tell that he was thinking. “Well, that does sound interesting. It just might be a good book—but it’s not the Bible!”
“They believe and use the Bible, too,” Seth explained. Then he left the bedroom so that Grandpa could rest. As he shut the door, he saw Grandpa opening the cover of the book.
The next morning Grandpa was still in bed, and Seth went in to see him before breakfast. Grandpa had the Book of Mormon open on his lap.
“I’ve been reading,” he said gruffly. “It’s a good book.”
Seth grinned. “I told you so.”
Grandpa looked at him. “I’ll say this for your missionaries. They’ve sure helped with the farm, and they can preach, too.”
He closed the book and looked thoughtful. “Maybe I ought to listen to them sometime.”
That afternoon when the missionaries came, Grandpa was ready. He listened as Elder James talked about Jesus Christ and the Restoration, and he asked questions. By the time the Elders left, Grandpa had invited them to come again.
Seth felt as if the whole farm had changed. The chores were still hard, and there was still a lot to do, but now he knew he could pray and get help. And Grandpa was reading the Book of Mormon.
He looked at the clear Wyoming sky and felt peaceful inside.
The next two weeks seemed to fly by with the help of Elder Wood, the tall young man from the city, and Elder James, the rancher. Elder Wood kept the house spic and span, and Elder James helped Seth in the barn. As the missionary and the boy worked side by side, Elder James taught him more about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
“Elder James,” Seth said one morning as they milked, “I like to pray, and it makes me feel good. But how do I know if I get an answer?”
Elder James continued to milk Sweetie with strong but gentle hands. “Well,” he said thoughtfully, “there are several ways. Mostly you start with faith that you’re really talking to your Heavenly Father. Then you learn to know when you get an answer. Some people just feel good, some feel peaceful, and some get ideas. Every person is different, and different problems sometimes require different kinds of answers.”
Seth thought about it. He did feel peaceful when he prayed, and sometimes new thoughts did seem to come into his mind.
Elder James continued. “When I was young, I liked to listen to the testimonies of prophets. I felt that if they could get direct answers to prayer, then I could too.” He carried his bucket of milk to the barn door, covered the bucket, and picked up a clean one. Then he leaned over the stall and looked at the boy for a minute. “Just keep praying and listening for answers,” he said. “It’s kind of like milking. At first it’s hard. You just have to keep trying and gaining strength. Soon, real soon, you get good at it.”
Seth finished milking his cow and stood up. He stretched and turned to the man. “Who were those prophets you were talking about—the ones who got answers to prayer?”
Elder James moved his milking stool next to Seth’s. “Sit down, boy,” he said, “and I’ll tell you about Joseph Smith.”
Seth listened intently. The story he heard filled him with amazement. A boy not much older than he was had actually talked to God and had seen His face! “Do you really believe that?” Seth asked.
“I really believe it.”
“This is important! Why doesn’t everyone know?”
Elder James shook his head sadly. “Not everyone believes that God would talk to a young boy. But He did, and great things have happened as a result.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for one thing, Joseph Smith received a record of people who lived on this continent hundreds of years ago. He translated the record and had it published in a book.”
“I’d like to see that book,” Seth said eagerly. “Do you have a copy?”
“Yes I do, and I’ll give it to you.”
Seth couldn’t even speak for a moment. Books were very expensive in Wyoming in the 1920s. “Th-Thank you,” he stammered. “Will you tell me more about it, please?”
They moved over to the last two cows, and as they milked, Elder James told him story after story from the Book of Mormon. Seth couldn’t seem to hear enough. “What happened to all those people?” Seth asked as they strained the milk.
“Well, the Nephites were all killed in battle. Some of the Indians in North and South America are what’s left of the Lamanites.”
Seth stared at him. “Really? Do they know that they’re the Lamanites?”
Elder James laughed. “Some—those who have read the book—do. It touches something inside of them. It’s very close to the traditions of their fathers.”
After the Elders left, Seth had so much to think about that he forgot to call his family. When the telephone rang, he jumped.
“Are you all right, Seth?” his mother’s worried voice asked.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I just forgot to call.”
“Is everything ready for Grandpa?”
“Everything’s ready.”
Grandpa was coming home from the hospital the next day. Seth and the Elders had made sure that everything was clean and shiny. Elder Wood had even baked a cake, and it sat on the pantry shelf, covered with a clean cloth.
“We’ll be over after supper tomorrow,” Mom promised. “It’ll be good to see you, son. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, Mom,” he said, and his voice got husky. Up till now, he’d been too busy to be homesick.
“I love you, Seth,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”
When Grandma’s Model T came up the dusty road, Seth was waiting on the porch. It was wonderful to see them! Grandma bustled around and helped Grandpa out of the car. Seth got hugs from both of them before he carried in their bags and parcels.
“My, it’s good to be home!” Grandma said. “I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep or a good meal since we left.”
“Me either!” Grandpa whispered weakly and chuckled.
Seth saw the twinkle in Grandpa’s eye and felt comforted. Grandpa was still Grandpa, even if his body seemed different. Seth helped get Grandpa settled in bed, then pulled a chair up to the bed and began his report on the farm.
“Sweetie’s giving more milk than ever!” he announced proudly. “And her calf is going to be as good as she is.” Then he told Grandpa about the missionaries helping with the farm.
“Who are these missionaries?” Grandpa asked with a scowl. “I don’t like strangers messing around with my animals.”
“They’ll be here this afternoon, and you can meet them. You’ll like them,” Seth promised. He ran out of the room and returned with his Book of Mormon. “While you’re waiting, you can read this book they left me. It’s about Jesus Christ.”
Grandpa continued to scowl. “It’s not the Bible! I don’t want to read it!”
“It’s really interesting,” Seth said, ignoring the scowl. “There’s a story about a good king named Benjamin. He worked as a farmer so the people wouldn’t have to support him.”
Grandpa’s gray brows came together, and Seth could tell that he was thinking. “Well, that does sound interesting. It just might be a good book—but it’s not the Bible!”
“They believe and use the Bible, too,” Seth explained. Then he left the bedroom so that Grandpa could rest. As he shut the door, he saw Grandpa opening the cover of the book.
The next morning Grandpa was still in bed, and Seth went in to see him before breakfast. Grandpa had the Book of Mormon open on his lap.
“I’ve been reading,” he said gruffly. “It’s a good book.”
Seth grinned. “I told you so.”
Grandpa looked at him. “I’ll say this for your missionaries. They’ve sure helped with the farm, and they can preach, too.”
He closed the book and looked thoughtful. “Maybe I ought to listen to them sometime.”
That afternoon when the missionaries came, Grandpa was ready. He listened as Elder James talked about Jesus Christ and the Restoration, and he asked questions. By the time the Elders left, Grandpa had invited them to come again.
Seth felt as if the whole farm had changed. The chores were still hard, and there was still a lot to do, but now he knew he could pray and get help. And Grandpa was reading the Book of Mormon.
He looked at the clear Wyoming sky and felt peaceful inside.
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👤 Children
👤 Other
Bible
Book of Mormon
Children
Family
Kindness
Missionary Work
Service
Teaching the Gospel
My Journey Back to Faith
Summary: The narrator first attended a Fast Sunday in June 2024 and felt hope hearing others' testimonies. Afterward, she met with missionaries, read the Book of Mormon, and took weekly lessons. She was baptized on July 27, and her husband was baptized on October 24.
My first visit to the church was at the beginning of June 2024, and it was a Fast Sunday. In hindsight, what a brilliant first session it was. Hearing other people talk about the strength and power that they have found through The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints filled me with hope. Straight after the sacrament meeting, I spoke with the full-time missionaries and asked them if I could start working towards becoming a member of the Church. The Elders invited me to read the Book of Mormon and I also started to attend weekly lessons, which taught me more about the gospel and the mission of the Church. I was baptised on 27th July and my husband was baptised on 24th October.
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👤 Missionaries
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
Baptism
Book of Mormon
Conversion
Missionary Work
Sacrament Meeting
Allowing Your Faith in Jesus Christ to Guide Your Life
Summary: Claire Hadlock describes how her parents’ painful divorce tested her faith when she was young. As she struggled with the experience, she came to understand the Atonement more deeply and found peace from the Lord. Looking back, she says the trial strengthened her faith in Heavenly Father and the Savior.
Claire Hadlock: “My parents went through a pretty bad divorce when I was younger, and it really tested my faith because I didn’t know how to deal with it. It really brought me closer to Christ and helped me understand the Atonement a lot better. I think when you are younger, you kind of think of the Atonement as ‘Oh, I make a mistake and I repent.’ Through this experience I realized that Christ overcame everything, and He overcame all of our pain and all of our suffering. The Lord gave me so much peace throughout this experience. And if I hadn’t gone through it, I don’t think I would have the amount of faith that I do now in my Heavenly Father and in my Savior.”
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👤 Youth
👤 Parents
👤 Jesus Christ
A More Excellent Way
Summary: At age fifteen, Vern Crowley ran his family's wrecking yard and caught a young thief stealing a transmission, intent on punishment. Vern’s ailing father intervened, showed compassion, and gave the boy the needed parts, counseling him to ask for help instead of stealing. The young man later returned repeatedly to repay the debt, asked about their beliefs, and was eventually baptized. Vern learned a lasting lesson about responding to wrongdoing with Christlike love.
As a young man, Brother Vern Crowley said he learned something of the crucial lesson the Prophet Joseph had taught the early Saints in Nauvoo when he told them to “love others, even our enemies as well as friends.” This is a good lesson for each of us.
After his father became ill, Vern Crowley took responsibility for running the family wrecking yard although he was only fifteen years of age. Some customers occasionally took unfair advantage of the young man, and parts were disappearing from the lot overnight. Vern was angry and vowed to catch someone and make an example of him. Vengeance would be his.
Just after his father had started to recover from his illness, Vern was making his rounds of the yard one night at closing time. It was nearly dark. In a distant corner of the property, he caught sight of someone carrying a large piece of machinery toward the back fence. He ran like a champion athlete and caught the young thief. His first thought was to take out his frustrations with his fists and then drag the boy to the front office and call the police. His heart was full of anger and vengeance. He had caught his thief, and he intended to get his just dues.
Out of nowhere, Vern’s father came along, put his weak and infirm hand on his son’s shoulder, and said, “I see you’re a bit upset, Vern. Can I handle this?” He then walked over to the young would-be thief and put his arm around his shoulder, looked him in the eye for a moment, and said, “Son, tell me, why are you doing this? Why were you trying to steal that transmission?” Then Mr. Crowley started walking toward the office with his arm around the boy, asking questions about the young man’s car problems as they walked. By the time they had arrived at the office, the father said, “Well, I think your clutch is gone and that’s causing your problem.”
In the meantime, Vern was fuming. “Who cares about his clutch?” he thought. “Let’s call the police and get this over with.” But his father just kept talking. “Vern, get him a clutch. Get him a throwout bearing too. And get him a pressure plate. That should take care of it.” The father handed all of the parts to the young man who had attempted robbery and said, “Take these. And here’s the transmission, too. You don’t have to steal, young man. Just ask for it. There’s a way out of every problem. People are willing to help.”
Brother Vern Crowley said he learned an everlasting lesson in love that day. The young man came back to the lot often. Voluntarily, month by month, he paid for all of the parts Vic Crowley had given him, including the transmission. During those visits he asked Vern why his dad was the way he was and why he did what he did. Vern told him something of their Latter-day Saint beliefs and how much his father loved the Lord and loved people. Eventually the would-be thief was baptized. Vern later said, “It’s hard now to describe the feelings I had and what I went through in that experience. I, too, was young. I had caught my crook. I was going to extract the utmost penalty. But my father taught me a different way.”
After his father became ill, Vern Crowley took responsibility for running the family wrecking yard although he was only fifteen years of age. Some customers occasionally took unfair advantage of the young man, and parts were disappearing from the lot overnight. Vern was angry and vowed to catch someone and make an example of him. Vengeance would be his.
Just after his father had started to recover from his illness, Vern was making his rounds of the yard one night at closing time. It was nearly dark. In a distant corner of the property, he caught sight of someone carrying a large piece of machinery toward the back fence. He ran like a champion athlete and caught the young thief. His first thought was to take out his frustrations with his fists and then drag the boy to the front office and call the police. His heart was full of anger and vengeance. He had caught his thief, and he intended to get his just dues.
Out of nowhere, Vern’s father came along, put his weak and infirm hand on his son’s shoulder, and said, “I see you’re a bit upset, Vern. Can I handle this?” He then walked over to the young would-be thief and put his arm around his shoulder, looked him in the eye for a moment, and said, “Son, tell me, why are you doing this? Why were you trying to steal that transmission?” Then Mr. Crowley started walking toward the office with his arm around the boy, asking questions about the young man’s car problems as they walked. By the time they had arrived at the office, the father said, “Well, I think your clutch is gone and that’s causing your problem.”
In the meantime, Vern was fuming. “Who cares about his clutch?” he thought. “Let’s call the police and get this over with.” But his father just kept talking. “Vern, get him a clutch. Get him a throwout bearing too. And get him a pressure plate. That should take care of it.” The father handed all of the parts to the young man who had attempted robbery and said, “Take these. And here’s the transmission, too. You don’t have to steal, young man. Just ask for it. There’s a way out of every problem. People are willing to help.”
Brother Vern Crowley said he learned an everlasting lesson in love that day. The young man came back to the lot often. Voluntarily, month by month, he paid for all of the parts Vic Crowley had given him, including the transmission. During those visits he asked Vern why his dad was the way he was and why he did what he did. Vern told him something of their Latter-day Saint beliefs and how much his father loved the Lord and loved people. Eventually the would-be thief was baptized. Vern later said, “It’s hard now to describe the feelings I had and what I went through in that experience. I, too, was young. I had caught my crook. I was going to extract the utmost penalty. But my father taught me a different way.”
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👤 Parents
👤 Youth
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
Baptism
Charity
Conversion
Family
Forgiveness
Joseph Smith
Kindness
Love
Mercy
Ministering
Parenting
Repentance
Service
Doctrine and Covenants 109: A Prophet’s Invitation
Summary: Sister McConkie describes how her two sons built a close friendship through nightly conversations in their shared basement bedroom. Later, during a heated rivalry basketball game, the younger brother—who mostly sat on the bench—rejoiced when his older brother made the winning shot and shouted to the crowd, “That’s my brother!” The story illustrates how private connection leads to loyalty, joy, and belonging.
We have four kids. Our two youngest were on the high school varsity basketball team together. The older son played nearly every minute of every basketball game. Our younger son mainly sat on the team bench that year, cheering on the others.
For years, I heard those sons in their basement bedroom, through the air vent at bedtime, as they talked to each other. I couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, but I could detect various emotions and changes in volume. Because they always left their phones upstairs at bedtime, they were free of distraction and could focus on those talks. They, with their very different personalities, really invested in that friendship. The older brother, who is now on his mission, loved to elongate the conversations late into the night, asking “would-you-rathers” and “highs and lows,” talking of sports, friends, and missions. So, in secret, they conversed. Not for show. No street corners. Simply a brotherhood that grew bit by bit through thousands of conversations.
We were at their high school basketball game two years ago. Our team’s rival had come to play, and the bleachers filled with extremely loud fans. At a key moment, near the end of the game, we needed to score in order to win. Our older son shot and made a beautiful shot, and the place went crazy. Everyone was screaming. I looked down at the team bench, at his little brother, who never got to play. He was the first to jump up off the team bench and turn toward the crowd. He pointed to himself and yelled, “That’s my brother! That’s my brother!” He wasn’t competitive with him. He wasn’t jealous that his brother got lots of playing time. Because of their bond that they had worked on in the basement, talking every evening, he only had joy for his brother and the desire to belong to him in that moment.
For years, I heard those sons in their basement bedroom, through the air vent at bedtime, as they talked to each other. I couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, but I could detect various emotions and changes in volume. Because they always left their phones upstairs at bedtime, they were free of distraction and could focus on those talks. They, with their very different personalities, really invested in that friendship. The older brother, who is now on his mission, loved to elongate the conversations late into the night, asking “would-you-rathers” and “highs and lows,” talking of sports, friends, and missions. So, in secret, they conversed. Not for show. No street corners. Simply a brotherhood that grew bit by bit through thousands of conversations.
We were at their high school basketball game two years ago. Our team’s rival had come to play, and the bleachers filled with extremely loud fans. At a key moment, near the end of the game, we needed to score in order to win. Our older son shot and made a beautiful shot, and the place went crazy. Everyone was screaming. I looked down at the team bench, at his little brother, who never got to play. He was the first to jump up off the team bench and turn toward the crowd. He pointed to himself and yelled, “That’s my brother! That’s my brother!” He wasn’t competitive with him. He wasn’t jealous that his brother got lots of playing time. Because of their bond that they had worked on in the basement, talking every evening, he only had joy for his brother and the desire to belong to him in that moment.
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👤 Parents
👤 Youth
👤 Children
Understanding Your Patriarchal Blessing
Summary: Gabriel and his wife, newly sealed, wondered how to strengthen their new family. He turned to his patriarchal blessing, which counseled him to prioritize respect, tolerance, and love. As they focused on these principles, they overcame problems and found greater happiness.
Gabriel Paredes of Lima, Peru, says, “Some of the counsel that was given to me in my blessing I have only been able to fully apply with my family after being sealed to my wife.
“Recently we had been wondering what we could do to strengthen and build our new family. Our question was answered through my patriarchal blessing. In it I am advised to prioritize respect, tolerance, and love in my family, because these are some of the important foundations of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
“As we have focused on this, my wife and I have been able to overcome problems. We still have occasional challenges as a family, but we’re happy. I felt like the Lord was reminding me how I could have the family that He promised me. I know that the Lord speaks through patriarchal blessings and that the counsel in them is to be used in our lives.”
“Recently we had been wondering what we could do to strengthen and build our new family. Our question was answered through my patriarchal blessing. In it I am advised to prioritize respect, tolerance, and love in my family, because these are some of the important foundations of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
“As we have focused on this, my wife and I have been able to overcome problems. We still have occasional challenges as a family, but we’re happy. I felt like the Lord was reminding me how I could have the family that He promised me. I know that the Lord speaks through patriarchal blessings and that the counsel in them is to be used in our lives.”
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👤 Church Members (General)
Family
Love
Marriage
Patriarchal Blessings
Revelation
Sealing
Testimony
Returned with Honor
Summary: After buying a lamp during a rainy afternoon, the narrator discovers a red bracelet that accidentally fell into the shopping bag. Tempted to delay returning it, they debate with themselves before deciding to immediately go back to the store despite the bad weather. The clerk is briefly grateful but not overly expressive, and no one else witnesses the act. The narrator reflects that true honesty is demonstrated by acting, not merely intending to do right.
Illustration by Greg Newbold
After my classes finished in the late afternoon, I stopped by a tiny antique store just before I made my way home—an errand I wanted to finish despite the increased intensity of the rain. I was the only person in the store, and the woman working there helped me with the lamp I’d had my eye on.
As she opened a shopping bag, I noticed a display of brightly colored bracelets on the counter. I reached for one just as she placed the lamp into the bag. She brushed the display, and about half the bracelets clattered to the floor. She looked a little flustered but finished ringing up my purchase. I left the store, umbrella in one hand, bag with a lamp in it in the other.
I walked home, took off my wet boots, and put on some music. As I took the lamp out, I noticed something at the bottom of the bag. It was a red bracelet. It must have fallen from the display into my bag. I smiled, thinking how much this moment was beginning to resemble a story from the old Young Women manual: “Then Valerie thought of the lesson they’d just had in Laurels class.”
I tossed the bracelet on my bed and plugged in my lamp. It created a warm glow in the gray afternoon. I looked out the window. It was raining even harder, and the snow on the ground was turning to dirty slush.
I looked at the bracelet. It was cherry red. I slipped it on my wrist. The price tag swung—$20. Of course I would return it. It never entered my mind not to. I pulled it off and put it on top of a pile of books I’d been meaning to put away. I walked into the other room to make a cup of hot chocolate.
Then I walked back in.
How long had I put off dealing with those books anyway? A while. How long would that bracelet be there if I put off taking it back?
My intention was to return it. But when would that be? Would I wait so long that I would feel awkward returning it? Would I forget about it?
I hesitated a little more. I looked out the window again. I thought about how my feet had just warmed up. I thought about my delicious hot chocolate.
Then I grabbed the bracelet, pulled my boots back on, and headed back out.
When I arrived at the store, the woman was helping someone else. I stood and waited. When she finished, I pulled the bracelet out of my coat pocket, explaining how it had come to be there. She looked sort of surprised, a little confused, said thank you, and that was it. She didn’t offer me a reward for my honesty. She wasn’t excessive in her thanks. And no one else was around to see it.
As I walked home, I thought about how I’d always considered myself an honest person. It is a quality I value and look for in others. But real honesty, like real love and real charity, is an active attribute. However honorable and true my intentions, I only became an honest person when I put those rain boots back on and acted on my intentions.
I felt my bare wrist inside my coat and smiled a little.
After my classes finished in the late afternoon, I stopped by a tiny antique store just before I made my way home—an errand I wanted to finish despite the increased intensity of the rain. I was the only person in the store, and the woman working there helped me with the lamp I’d had my eye on.
As she opened a shopping bag, I noticed a display of brightly colored bracelets on the counter. I reached for one just as she placed the lamp into the bag. She brushed the display, and about half the bracelets clattered to the floor. She looked a little flustered but finished ringing up my purchase. I left the store, umbrella in one hand, bag with a lamp in it in the other.
I walked home, took off my wet boots, and put on some music. As I took the lamp out, I noticed something at the bottom of the bag. It was a red bracelet. It must have fallen from the display into my bag. I smiled, thinking how much this moment was beginning to resemble a story from the old Young Women manual: “Then Valerie thought of the lesson they’d just had in Laurels class.”
I tossed the bracelet on my bed and plugged in my lamp. It created a warm glow in the gray afternoon. I looked out the window. It was raining even harder, and the snow on the ground was turning to dirty slush.
I looked at the bracelet. It was cherry red. I slipped it on my wrist. The price tag swung—$20. Of course I would return it. It never entered my mind not to. I pulled it off and put it on top of a pile of books I’d been meaning to put away. I walked into the other room to make a cup of hot chocolate.
Then I walked back in.
How long had I put off dealing with those books anyway? A while. How long would that bracelet be there if I put off taking it back?
My intention was to return it. But when would that be? Would I wait so long that I would feel awkward returning it? Would I forget about it?
I hesitated a little more. I looked out the window again. I thought about how my feet had just warmed up. I thought about my delicious hot chocolate.
Then I grabbed the bracelet, pulled my boots back on, and headed back out.
When I arrived at the store, the woman was helping someone else. I stood and waited. When she finished, I pulled the bracelet out of my coat pocket, explaining how it had come to be there. She looked sort of surprised, a little confused, said thank you, and that was it. She didn’t offer me a reward for my honesty. She wasn’t excessive in her thanks. And no one else was around to see it.
As I walked home, I thought about how I’d always considered myself an honest person. It is a quality I value and look for in others. But real honesty, like real love and real charity, is an active attribute. However honorable and true my intentions, I only became an honest person when I put those rain boots back on and acted on my intentions.
I felt my bare wrist inside my coat and smiled a little.
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👤 Other
Agency and Accountability
Charity
Honesty
Young Women
The Ultimate Road Map
Summary: During severe storms on Oahu, the speaker was driving home from Honolulu and initially considered following other cars despite a warning from the phone’s map app about a road closure ahead. After receiving a clear thought to trust the map instead of the crowd, the speaker turned around, took a difficult alternate route, and arrived home safely, feeling grateful for both the prompting and the guidance.
This past March, severe storms swept across Oahu, bringing heavy rain, flooding, and dangerous road conditions. On the day of the first big storm, I was driving home from Honolulu using my maps app and entered BYU–Hawaii into my phone. Because I don't know the roads well yet, I followed my phone’s instructions closely.
I knew that when I reached Kahekili Highway it was a straight shot home. The storm was getting worse, but at this point, I knew my way. However, as I turned onto Kahekili Highway, the rain intensified and my phone said out loud to me: “Road closure ahead.”
Everyone in front of me was still going forward. There was no sign that any of the cars ahead were stopping or turning, and so I thought I could just keep following them. Immediately the thought came: “They know these roads; they don’t have their phone maps on to know the road is closed. You should follow your map’s directions.”
At this point, the storm became treacherous; branches were falling into the road, and rain was creating deep pools. I decided to make a U-turn and follow my phone’s directions. I was directed around the other side of the island. The trip was a white-knuckle drive. I made it home safely and was extremely grateful for the promptings I had received and the assistance of this incredible road map and the voice talking to me from my phone.
I knew that when I reached Kahekili Highway it was a straight shot home. The storm was getting worse, but at this point, I knew my way. However, as I turned onto Kahekili Highway, the rain intensified and my phone said out loud to me: “Road closure ahead.”
Everyone in front of me was still going forward. There was no sign that any of the cars ahead were stopping or turning, and so I thought I could just keep following them. Immediately the thought came: “They know these roads; they don’t have their phone maps on to know the road is closed. You should follow your map’s directions.”
At this point, the storm became treacherous; branches were falling into the road, and rain was creating deep pools. I decided to make a U-turn and follow my phone’s directions. I was directed around the other side of the island. The trip was a white-knuckle drive. I made it home safely and was extremely grateful for the promptings I had received and the assistance of this incredible road map and the voice talking to me from my phone.
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👤 Other
About Sara
Summary: A Young Women leader describes how a new Laurel named Sara, who has a mental handicap and unclear speech, was warmly welcomed by the class. The girls included her during a craft night and consistently involved her without prompting. At a ward dance, a classmate invited Sara to join the dancing, and she eagerly participated. The leader reflects that the Laurels’ genuine acceptance exemplifies serving “the least of these.”
This year a new Laurel, Sara,* came to our Young Women class. She arrived with many challenges. She is mentally handicapped and is sometimes difficult to understand because her speech is unclear. Sara is home-schooled. Her family brings Sara to midweek activities so she can have some interaction with her peers. When I first met her, I wondered how she would be accepted by the Laurels in my class.
I didn’t have to wonder long, though, because Sara was welcomed with open arms.
One of the first activities she came to was a craft night. All the Young Women were making finger puppets to give to the local children’s hospital. Without prompting, a few girls from the Laurel class invited Sara to sit at their table. She remained there the entire evening, working alongside all the other girls. At subsequent activities, Sara was always included, without prompting from the adult leaders.
Our ward-sponsored “Back to School Dance” at the beginning of the school year was especially memorable. I was in the ward library making a few copies before the activity began. As I was waiting, someone came from behind me and gave me a hug. It was Sara.
I noticed she was dressed up for the occasion. She followed me into the cultural hall and watched the others dance. She tapped her feet to the music and said, “I know this song.”
We weren’t on the sidelines long before one of our class members came over and said, “Hey, Sara, come dance with us.”
Sara leaped from her chair and followed this girl out onto the dance floor.
Sara’s classmates have accepted her in a way that is genuine and caring. When I think of Sara and the other Laurels in my class, I often think of the scripture, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matt. 25:40).
I didn’t have to wonder long, though, because Sara was welcomed with open arms.
One of the first activities she came to was a craft night. All the Young Women were making finger puppets to give to the local children’s hospital. Without prompting, a few girls from the Laurel class invited Sara to sit at their table. She remained there the entire evening, working alongside all the other girls. At subsequent activities, Sara was always included, without prompting from the adult leaders.
Our ward-sponsored “Back to School Dance” at the beginning of the school year was especially memorable. I was in the ward library making a few copies before the activity began. As I was waiting, someone came from behind me and gave me a hug. It was Sara.
I noticed she was dressed up for the occasion. She followed me into the cultural hall and watched the others dance. She tapped her feet to the music and said, “I know this song.”
We weren’t on the sidelines long before one of our class members came over and said, “Hey, Sara, come dance with us.”
Sara leaped from her chair and followed this girl out onto the dance floor.
Sara’s classmates have accepted her in a way that is genuine and caring. When I think of Sara and the other Laurels in my class, I often think of the scripture, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matt. 25:40).
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👤 Youth
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Other
Charity
Disabilities
Friendship
Kindness
Ministering
Young Women
What Will You Make Room for in Your Wagon?
Summary: Just before finals, the speaker’s niece Shelly called asking for a place where she and her roommates could escape for the weekend. She described how they had been constantly overloaded with schedules, deadlines, pressures, and anxieties. The account illustrates the modern problem of trying to do too much with too little time.
Some time ago, one of the students on this campus called my home to report what sounded to me like a condition of epidemic proportions. It was just before finals. Shelly, who happens to be my niece, explained that she and her roommates were stressed out and needed a place to escape for the weekend. I, of course, was delighted to provide the place. They said there had hardly been a weekend or even a day when they had not been completely overloaded. “So much to do and so little time” was their comment as they talked of schedules, commitments, expectations, pressures, and even some anxieties about dates, deadlines, decisions, finances, future obligations, and unlimited opportunities.
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👤 Young Adults
👤 Friends
👤 Other
You Should Take Seminary
Summary: As a less-active teenager, the narrator is invited by her friend Ashley to take seminary. She decides to enroll, begins attending church, and over time her testimony grows. Seminary becomes a daily source of answers and strength, helping her prepare for a temple marriage and a firmer foundation in Christ.
“Lisa, you should take seminary,” Ashley mentioned casually. Before us were folders displaying lists of class choices for the next school year, when we were starting high school.
I looked vacantly at my friend, finally managing a smile. I hated to tell her, but seminary was the furthest thing from my mind. I was then a less-active member of the Church, as I had been for most of my life. Over the years, I had grown vaguely aware of the gospel but hadn’t received a strong testimony of its truthfulness.
As I went home after school that day, the prospect of seminary began to intrigue me. Ashley, as well as my other friends, all seemed very excited to become a part of it. I had a desire to do what my friends were doing, even if I didn’t understand what they were doing or why they were doing it. After discussing my plan with my parents and getting their permission, I decided to take seminary my first year of high school.
I didn’t know what a profound impact that simple act would have on my life. My first year of seminary changed my life as I began to see myself and others as children of God, loved and cherished. I began going to church on Sundays, despite my family’s inactivity.
I have now finished high school, but I will always be grateful for seminary. During that hour each day, I had my prayers answered and my testimony strengthened. Seminary helped me prepare for a temple marriage and encouraged me to strive to be a better person.
I know that God cares for each of us. I know that seminary is a blessing that helped me build on a firm foundation in Jesus Christ. I would encourage you to enroll in seminary. It will change your life too.
I looked vacantly at my friend, finally managing a smile. I hated to tell her, but seminary was the furthest thing from my mind. I was then a less-active member of the Church, as I had been for most of my life. Over the years, I had grown vaguely aware of the gospel but hadn’t received a strong testimony of its truthfulness.
As I went home after school that day, the prospect of seminary began to intrigue me. Ashley, as well as my other friends, all seemed very excited to become a part of it. I had a desire to do what my friends were doing, even if I didn’t understand what they were doing or why they were doing it. After discussing my plan with my parents and getting their permission, I decided to take seminary my first year of high school.
I didn’t know what a profound impact that simple act would have on my life. My first year of seminary changed my life as I began to see myself and others as children of God, loved and cherished. I began going to church on Sundays, despite my family’s inactivity.
I have now finished high school, but I will always be grateful for seminary. During that hour each day, I had my prayers answered and my testimony strengthened. Seminary helped me prepare for a temple marriage and encouraged me to strive to be a better person.
I know that God cares for each of us. I know that seminary is a blessing that helped me build on a firm foundation in Jesus Christ. I would encourage you to enroll in seminary. It will change your life too.
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👤 Youth
👤 Friends
👤 Parents
Conversion
Education
Faith
Family
Friendship
Marriage
Prayer
Temples
Testimony
Young Women
Earnestly Seeking God
Summary: During their mission, while Christopher was away, their son Uchenna became gravely ill. Florence prayed, received impressions on how to care for him, followed them, and his health improved.
Once during the Chukwurahs’ mission, while Christopher was away on assignment, their young son Uchenna grew so sick that Florence thought he would die. “I had no hope anywhere except from the Lord,” she said. As she held Uchenna in her arms, Florence prayed fervently for healing and received impressions about how to care for him. As she followed the promptings, Uchenna’s health improved. “The Lord saved him,” she affirmed.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
Children
Faith
Family
Holy Ghost
Hope
Miracles
Missionary Work
Parenting
Prayer
Revelation
A Surprise for the Fair
Summary: A young pioneer girl, Elizabeth, feels discouraged because she lacks something to display at the Primary fair. After being distracted while helping her brother chase a raccoon, she forgets butter on the porch and it melts; meanwhile, corn left without water pops in a kettle. The family realizes they can use the melted butter on the popped corn, giving Elizabeth a perfect item to display at the fair.
Assembly Instructions: Cut scenery along solid black lines on pages 30 and 31. Glue scene to cardboard and trim.
Cut out objects on floor along solid black outline and then fold up on broken lines.
Glue figures and props to cardboard and cut out. On the back of each figure glue a Popsicle stick. Place a piece of masking tape on the back of the props so they can be positioned in the scene. If the scenery is set on the forward edge of a table, the figures can be moved around in front of it.
Characters: Mother, Ezra, Susan, Elizabeth, and Thomas
Setting: Kitchen of a pioneer cabin with table, chairs, coal stove, and a hearth.
Scene opens: Mother is churning butter. Susan is working on a rag rug. Ezra is sanding a stool he has made in preparation for the Primary fair. Elizabeth kneels on the floor watching Ezra and his stool.
NOTE: Instead of using puppets, this play could be given by boys and girls in a family home evening.
Elizabeth: (in a discouraged voice) What can a five-year-old make to show at the Primary fair?
Mother: Why, Elizabeth, you’re going to play in the rhythm band at the fair. And, I might say, you do a good job on the triangle.
Elizabeth: I know, but I want something to put on the display table with my name on it!
Ezra: You can help me paint this stool and we can put both our names on it.
Elizabeth: No! That wouldn’t be the same as making something all by myself.
Susan: Do you want me to show you how to make a rug?
Elizabeth: No, that’s what you’re doing; besides, there isn’t time for me to finish one.
Mother: (holding out jar of butter) Here, Elizabeth, please take this butter outside and put it in a cool safe place by the stream.
Ezra: On your way back, Elizabeth, would you do me a favor? Bring in the bucket of corn inside the barn for Mother. I forgot. That way I can keep sanding till I’m through.
Thomas: (calling from outside) Elizabeth, come quick! That pesky raccoon’s in the cornfield again! Help me catch him.
Elizabeth: All right! I’m coming! (Elizabeth runs out, carrying the butter. The other family members run to peer out the window.)
Susan: How can little Elizabeth help?
Ezra: Elizabeth is small and quick enough to run through the cornfield to head him off. (Mother, Susan, and Ezra go back to their work.)
Mother: Susan, will you help me clean out this big heavy kettle so I can make soup in it? (The kettle is on the floor by the hearth.)
Susan: I’ll be glad to, Mother. (Helps mother clean kettle.) This kettle will sure hold a lot of soup!
Mother: Yes, it has to. We’re going to have a soup kitchen at the fair, and I told the sisters I would make a big pot of our favorite vegetable soup.
(After a time Thomas and Elizabeth return. Elizabeth is carrying the bucket of corn. Mother and Susan have finished cleaning the kettle and are getting ready to peel the vegetables on the table.)
Elizabeth: Where do you want this corn, Mother?
Mother: Put it in the kettle on the hearth, dear. (Elizabeth puts corn in kettle.)
Thomas: That pesky raccoon got away. If I ever catch him, I’ll have his tail!
Ezra: Then you can have a raccoon hat (family laughs).
Susan: Maybe we could make the raccoon a family pet. The Cole family has a pet raccoon.
Thomas: No thank you! Then he would eat all our crops.
Mother: Elizabeth, did you find a good place by the stream for the butter?
Elizabeth: (looks alarmed) Oh, Mother, in my hurry to help Thomas catch the raccoon I left the butter outside on the porch. I’ll go get it right now. (She leaves.)
Mother: Thomas, if you’ll lift that large kettle from the hearth to the stove, Susan and I will soon have other vegetables ready to put in it.
Thomas: All right, Mother (lifts pan).
Elizabeth: (enters carrying the butter jar) I’m sorry, Mother. I left the butter in the sun and it’s almost all melted. Is it ruined?
Mother: (walks over and looks in butter jar) Oh, dear! No, it’s not ruined, Elizabeth, but it has to be used right away. What can we do with so much melted butter?
Ezra: We could make pancakes (looks in butter jar) but wow! We’d sure have to eat a lot of them!
Mother: (begins to sniff) Say, what can I smell? Oh dear, I forgot to put some water in the kettle for the corn.
Ezra: But what’s that noise? (everyone sniffs and listens.)
Thomas: It smells and sounds like corn popping. (Everyone looks at the stove.)
Ezra: Oh no! Elizabeth must have brought in my popcorn that I was saving for tithing.
Elizabeth: I’m sorry, Ezra.
Ezra: That’s all right. I wonder if the bishop will take popped corn for tithing (family laughs).
Mother: You’ll have to take some more from your supply for your tithing, Ezra.
Susan: Hey! All that popcorn solves the problem of what to do with all the melted butter.
Thomas: That’s right. We can pour it over the popcorn!
Mother: And that’s what Elizabeth can take to the Primary fair and put on the display table with a big sign that reads BUTTERED POPCORN MADE BY ELIZABETH, age 5.
Elizabeth: Yippee!
Cut out objects on floor along solid black outline and then fold up on broken lines.
Glue figures and props to cardboard and cut out. On the back of each figure glue a Popsicle stick. Place a piece of masking tape on the back of the props so they can be positioned in the scene. If the scenery is set on the forward edge of a table, the figures can be moved around in front of it.
Characters: Mother, Ezra, Susan, Elizabeth, and Thomas
Setting: Kitchen of a pioneer cabin with table, chairs, coal stove, and a hearth.
Scene opens: Mother is churning butter. Susan is working on a rag rug. Ezra is sanding a stool he has made in preparation for the Primary fair. Elizabeth kneels on the floor watching Ezra and his stool.
NOTE: Instead of using puppets, this play could be given by boys and girls in a family home evening.
Elizabeth: (in a discouraged voice) What can a five-year-old make to show at the Primary fair?
Mother: Why, Elizabeth, you’re going to play in the rhythm band at the fair. And, I might say, you do a good job on the triangle.
Elizabeth: I know, but I want something to put on the display table with my name on it!
Ezra: You can help me paint this stool and we can put both our names on it.
Elizabeth: No! That wouldn’t be the same as making something all by myself.
Susan: Do you want me to show you how to make a rug?
Elizabeth: No, that’s what you’re doing; besides, there isn’t time for me to finish one.
Mother: (holding out jar of butter) Here, Elizabeth, please take this butter outside and put it in a cool safe place by the stream.
Ezra: On your way back, Elizabeth, would you do me a favor? Bring in the bucket of corn inside the barn for Mother. I forgot. That way I can keep sanding till I’m through.
Thomas: (calling from outside) Elizabeth, come quick! That pesky raccoon’s in the cornfield again! Help me catch him.
Elizabeth: All right! I’m coming! (Elizabeth runs out, carrying the butter. The other family members run to peer out the window.)
Susan: How can little Elizabeth help?
Ezra: Elizabeth is small and quick enough to run through the cornfield to head him off. (Mother, Susan, and Ezra go back to their work.)
Mother: Susan, will you help me clean out this big heavy kettle so I can make soup in it? (The kettle is on the floor by the hearth.)
Susan: I’ll be glad to, Mother. (Helps mother clean kettle.) This kettle will sure hold a lot of soup!
Mother: Yes, it has to. We’re going to have a soup kitchen at the fair, and I told the sisters I would make a big pot of our favorite vegetable soup.
(After a time Thomas and Elizabeth return. Elizabeth is carrying the bucket of corn. Mother and Susan have finished cleaning the kettle and are getting ready to peel the vegetables on the table.)
Elizabeth: Where do you want this corn, Mother?
Mother: Put it in the kettle on the hearth, dear. (Elizabeth puts corn in kettle.)
Thomas: That pesky raccoon got away. If I ever catch him, I’ll have his tail!
Ezra: Then you can have a raccoon hat (family laughs).
Susan: Maybe we could make the raccoon a family pet. The Cole family has a pet raccoon.
Thomas: No thank you! Then he would eat all our crops.
Mother: Elizabeth, did you find a good place by the stream for the butter?
Elizabeth: (looks alarmed) Oh, Mother, in my hurry to help Thomas catch the raccoon I left the butter outside on the porch. I’ll go get it right now. (She leaves.)
Mother: Thomas, if you’ll lift that large kettle from the hearth to the stove, Susan and I will soon have other vegetables ready to put in it.
Thomas: All right, Mother (lifts pan).
Elizabeth: (enters carrying the butter jar) I’m sorry, Mother. I left the butter in the sun and it’s almost all melted. Is it ruined?
Mother: (walks over and looks in butter jar) Oh, dear! No, it’s not ruined, Elizabeth, but it has to be used right away. What can we do with so much melted butter?
Ezra: We could make pancakes (looks in butter jar) but wow! We’d sure have to eat a lot of them!
Mother: (begins to sniff) Say, what can I smell? Oh dear, I forgot to put some water in the kettle for the corn.
Ezra: But what’s that noise? (everyone sniffs and listens.)
Thomas: It smells and sounds like corn popping. (Everyone looks at the stove.)
Ezra: Oh no! Elizabeth must have brought in my popcorn that I was saving for tithing.
Elizabeth: I’m sorry, Ezra.
Ezra: That’s all right. I wonder if the bishop will take popped corn for tithing (family laughs).
Mother: You’ll have to take some more from your supply for your tithing, Ezra.
Susan: Hey! All that popcorn solves the problem of what to do with all the melted butter.
Thomas: That’s right. We can pour it over the popcorn!
Mother: And that’s what Elizabeth can take to the Primary fair and put on the display table with a big sign that reads BUTTERED POPCORN MADE BY ELIZABETH, age 5.
Elizabeth: Yippee!
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Pioneers
Children
Family
Family Home Evening
Service
Tithing