Gospel Story Finder

This good woman had never had a ride on a train. Her family were all married and she was on a little, rocky farm, all alone. She wanted to have a ride on a train before she passed on. Her children also wanted her to have that experience, and so it was decided she would take a trip to a distant town and visit some relatives during the holidays. When the time arrived, she came down to Boise all aflutter with excitement. When the train pulled in, her excitement increased. Soon the conductor waved his hand and called, “All aboard.” The old lady got on the train and took her seat. Then the conductor came down the aisle picking up tickets, and she said, “Conductor, I don’t know much about railway trains. Now, I knew what you meant when you called, ‘All aboard,’ but I didn’t know what you meant when you waved your hand.”
The conductor, a rather rough sort of fellow, said, “Oh, that was just my signal for the engineer to get the h— out of here.” It answered her question, but she didn’t like it, and as the conductor went on picking up tickets his conscience began to smite him. He thought that was not a very gentlemanly way to speak to a lovely old lady. So when he finished the car, he went back and began to apologize, but she just waved her hand.

It’s not a real mission, but it is missionary service. And it’s for four weeks instead of two years. But it does bless and change lives.
Every year around Easter, people of all ages are called to serve in the Mesa Arizona Easter Pageant.
Performed on the grounds of the Mesa Arizona Temple, the pageant tells the story of the Savior’s birth, life, death, and Resurrection. The production requires hundreds of volunteers to design and sew colorful period costumes, build stages and props, write original music, and perform for an audience of approximately 150,000 during the month.
While a production as demanding as the Easter pageant might burn out the normal volunteer, the youth who participate tell of a different attitude. These 132 young volunteers say they are changed forever by the strong spirit that fills the temple grounds, and they want to return to the pageant again and again.
Before and after each performance, 425 cast members step out of their biblical characters to become real-life missionaries. Their job is to mingle with the crowd, greeting visitors and answering their questions about the pageant and the Church.
“One night, I was talking to some people in the audience and started talking to a family,” says Preston Merchant, 12. “I had a good discussion with them and really felt the Spirit. I thought, ‘This is what the Easter pageant is all about!’”
Participants promise to obey certain simple rules:
Never miss even one rehearsal or performance;
Attend the evening devotionals;
Pray often;
Read your scriptures every day;
Tell your friends and neighbors about the pageant;
Be a good representative of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in every way.
Full-time missionaries from the Arizona Tempe Mission met with cast members to teach them how to answer questions about the Church and how to give away a Book of Mormon.
“I loved bearing my testimony to the audience,” says 14-year-old Connie Fairbanks. “After our performance, we talked to the people in the audience. It was really neat to see how the Spirit had touched them.”
The youth aren’t the only ones getting into the act. Entire families participate in the pageant, either as members of the cast or part of the crew. One family, the Nielsons, voted to audition for the pageant together. “My family said either everyone’s in or no one is. Majority rules,” says David Nielson, 14. “So we all went as a family and tried out—and we all made it!” David played a beggar and a member of the mob in the pageant.
Telicia, David’s 12-year-old sister, played a child in the multitude, but she’s also a gymnast, so she was worried about the time commitment. “I love gymnastics,” she says. “And I knew if I got a part, I wouldn’t be able to work out [in the gym] for a whole month.” But Telicia says she doesn’t feel bad about her choice to miss gymnastics because she gained a stronger testimony of the Savior and His sacrifice.
“I invited my gymnastics coach and several of my teammates to come to the Easter pageant,” she adds. “They’re not members, but they said they would come. I was so excited!”
Kristin, 17, Telicia’s older sister, played an angel. The angels dance and sing on a platform high above the stage, which is pretty scary for Kristin. But she says she felt peaceful and closer to the Savior when she and the other angels sang about His birth. “Not only have I drawn closer to my Savior, but my family became closer to each other,” she says. “For one month, we dropped all our other activities and spent every night together. It was the neatest experience ever!”
The best part about the pageant is the spirit that surrounds it. Eighteen-year-old Janna Halcomb’s brother encouraged her to try out for the pageant with him just before he left on his mission to Hungary. “That year we were able to be angels together,” she says. “It was such an incredible experience. The Spirit on the temple grounds is so strong, and as we bore witness of the Savior and His life my testimony was strengthened.”
Many of the youth describe the mood of the pageant and on the temple grounds as a sweet feeling that seems to envelop them and anyone else who comes. “The many witnesses of Jesus Christ that I have received have been incredibly worth my time and sacrifice,” says 17-year-old A. J. Wilcox. “This has been great preparation for my mission.”
Dayton Rohner’s mom thought it would be a good idea for her family to volunteer for the pageant. At 17, Dayton wasn’t so sure. But now he’s grateful to his mom. “Being in the pageant helped me feel what others might have felt when the Savior healed the sick and taught through example what we should do in our lives. Through this experience I now have a better understanding of our Lord and His sacrifice.”
These young volunteers say they want to be a part of the pageant again; it’s such a great experience. Sister Nanci Wudel, director of public affairs, has heard similar comments. “The young men and women tell me they do better in their schoolwork, on tests, at sports, and in their lives altogether during the month of the pageant. They believe they really are blessed for participating,” she says.
Two years ago, the Pace family was able to bring a part of the Easter pageant home with them. A pure white baby lamb, needed for a scene where Adam offers a sacrifice, didn’t have a mother, and many worried the lamb might die.
“When my mother noticed the lamb,” Kelsey Pace, 14, remembers, “she told the owner that I had raised lambs on a bottle before. So the lamb became my responsibility. I had to feed her every four hours, even in the middle of the night, with extra-large bottles of powdered goat’s milk and sometimes medicine, too.
“We prayed for her every day. She is now healthy, and she’s even in the pageant again as one of the sheep with the shepherds who hear the angel tell of the birth of Jesus.” The lamb, now a family pet, lives in the Paces’ backyard.
“A few weeks after my family tried out for the pageant, we each got letters telling us that we all made it. My dad was assigned to be Joseph in the scene of 12-year-old Jesus in the temple, my mom got to be Mary, and I played Jesus. When I looked at our letters again, I couldn’t believe it! I know Jesus lives and the Church is true, and I’m glad I got to be a missionary by being in the Easter pageant.”–Tyler Starr, 12
“Being cast as Eve alongside my brother, Trevor, who played Adam, was the best thing that could have happened to me. Every time I watched the scenes of the miracles Jesus performed so long ago, I received such a strong confirmation from the Spirit! I know He suffered and died for us. I know He did that so I could repent of the bad choices I’ve made. That piece of knowledge is priceless to me.”—Casey Gorton, 17

Several years ago our sons would spend their time during the summer on their grandfather’s ranch. Twelve years ago one of our sons had a horse. It had been given to him when it was born. It had been running with a wild herd of horses on the ranch. It was now two years old, time that it could be broken to ride. Early one summer we went to the ranch. It took all day to get the horses into the corral. Finally we had my son’s horse in a chute and put a heavy halter on it. We put a big rope on it and tied it to a big post. “Now the horse must stay there for two or three days,” I told him, “until it quits fighting the rope, until it becomes calm.” We worked with it during the morning, and then we went in to eat. He hurried with his meal and then went out to his horse. He was 14. He loved that horse.
Just as we finished the meal, I heard a noise, and I heard him shout. I knew what had happened. He had untied the horse. I had told him not to, but he was going to work with it. In order to hold the horse, he had wrapped the rope around his wrist. As I came out the door, I saw that horse run by. My son was running after it with great big steps, pulled by the horse; and then he fell. If the horse had turned right, it would have gone out the gate into the mountains. It turned left and was cornered by two fences. While it was trying to find its way out, I got the rope off my boy’s wrist and the end of the rope around the post. He was bruised but not badly hurt.
In a little while we had the horse tied up again, and we sat down for a father and son lesson. I said to him this: “My boy, if you are ever going to control that horse, you will have to use something besides your muscles. The horse is bigger than you are; it is stronger than you are. Someday you can ride that horse, but it will have to be trained. You cannot train it with your muscles. It is bigger than you are; it is stronger than you are; and it is wild.”
Two years later we went to the ranch in the spring. This horse had been running all winter with the herd. We went to find it. We found the herd of horses down by the river. I knew if we went too close, they would run. So this boy and his sister took a bucket with some oats and walked quietly to the edge of the meadow. The horses began to move away slowly. Then he whistled, and his horse came out of the herd and trotted up to my boy. We had learned a great lesson. Much had happened in those two years. He had used more than his muscles.
After the experience when he had untied his horse, he was frightened. He had disobeyed, and he said, “Dad, what should we do?” And I said, “This is the way we will do it. And one day that horse will run up to you.” He had been prepared and had learned a great lesson.

“Sister Hopkins, these are the 10 Sunbeams you will be teaching this year,” the counselor in the Primary presidency announced. I was a new convert, and I admit that this calling terrified me. How could I teach what I did not yet have a firm understanding of? How would I handle so many energetic children? But the bishop and Primary president assured me I would be blessed for tackling this daunting calling.
I knew I’d have to pour myself into learning the gospel in order to teach it, so each week I read the manual—a source of abundant gospel light—and prayed and pondered how the principles applied to my life and to the children’s. As I studied and taught, I gained a testimony of our divine birthright as children of God. I discovered the worth and uniqueness of each soul. Simple Primary lessons not only illuminated the faces of His precious children, but they also blossomed the seed of testimony I had had when I entered the waters of baptism.
That precious year with the Sunbeams has made me forever grateful for a calling that changed my life. I was changed, as were the children, by the teachings of Jesus Christ.

On 1 January 2002, I began a daily gratitude journal. (OK, I admit I got the idea from Oprah!) Every day I wrote five things for which I was grateful. I did not miss a day until Easter morning in April. On that morning I was called to be the ward Relief Society president. I believe that the act of being grateful, of thinking every day of five specific things for which I was thankful, helped me to be open to invite the Spirit, to freely love, and to accept the calling with joy.

I found that my gratitude journal filled nearly every day with little things, mostly with daily joys of my family. I began to ponder the memories of small moments of joys past. The more I meditated on things for which I was grateful, the more my heart became flooded with moments of joy—funny things my children had said, my Mom making goulash, my husband’s pride at finding tickets to the sold-out opera, spreading with a kiss my ward’s sisters quilt on a dear friend who was dying. From a daily focus on gratitude sprung a daily dose of joy.

There will be times in your service when you won’t have the remarkable and visible success of that young elders quorum president. That is the time when you will need to be confident that the Lord, knowing you would do your part in the work, called you through His authorized servants. Having faith in the call from the Lord’s servants was crucial in the missionary service of my great-grandfather Henry Eyring.

He was baptized on March 11, 1855, in St. Louis, Missouri. Erastus Snow ordained him to the office of a priest shortly thereafter. The president of the St. Louis Stake, John H. Hart, called him to serve a mission to the Cherokee Nation on October 6. He was ordained an elder on October 11. He left on horseback for the Cherokee Mission on October 24. He was 20 years old and a convert of only seven months.

If any priesthood holder had a reason to feel unqualified or unprepared, it was Henry Eyring. The only reason he could have had the courage to go was that he knew in his heart that God had called him through His authorized servants. It was the source of his courage. That must be the source of our courage to persevere, whatever our callings in the priesthood.

After Elder Eyring had served for three difficult years and upon the death of the mission president, Henry was nominated and sustained as president of the mission in a meeting held on October 6, 1858. He was surprised and as shocked as a new deacon would be. He wrote, “It was quite unexpected to me to be called to that responsible office but as it was the will of the brethren I cheerfully accepted, feeling at the same time my great weakness and lack of experience.”

The now-President Eyring traveled to the Cherokee, Creek, and Choctaw Nations in 1859. Through his efforts, the Lord “added,” as Henry recorded, “a number to the church.” He organized two branches but noted that “very few are alive in the cause.”

A year later, Henry was faced with the difficult reality that the political leaders among the people he was serving no longer permitted the Latter-day Saint missionaries to do their work. As he pondered what he should do, he recalled the instruction from his previous mission president indicating that he should prolong his mission until 1859.

In October of that year, Henry wrote to President Brigham Young for direction, but he did not receive a reply to his question. Henry recorded, “Not being able to hear anything from the Presidency of the Church, I called upon the Lord in prayer, asking him to reveal to me his mind and will in regard to my remaining longer or going up to Zion.”

He continued: “The following dream was given to me in answer to my prayer. I dreamt I had arrived in [Salt Lake] City and immediately went to [President Brigham] Young’s office, where I found him. I said to him: ‘[President] Young I have left my mission, have come of my own accord, but if there is anything wrong in this, I am willing to return and finish my mission.’ [In the dream the prophet] replied: ‘You have stayed long enough, it is all right.’”

Henry wrote in his journal, “Having had dreams before which were literally fulfilled I had faith to believe, that this also would be and consequently commenced at once to prepare for a start.”

He arrived in Salt Lake City on August 29, 1860, having walked most of the way. Two days later, he walked into the office of President Brigham Young.

Henry described the experience in these words: “[I] called upon [President] Young, who received [me] very kindly. I said to him, ‘[President] Young I have come without being sent for, if I have done wrong, I am willing to return and finish my mission.’ [Brigham Young] answered: ‘It is all right, we have been looking for you.’”

Henry described his joy, saying, “Thus my dream was literally fulfilled.”

I was playing a game with some other children on a camping trip. Some of them started using bad words. I asked them to stop. Then another girl said we should play the game without using bad words. After that none of the children used bad words, and we had a lot of fun.
When I told my dad what happened, he said that I was a leader. He said a leader is someone who shows others the way and that my friend and I had shown the children how to play without using bad language. Now I know that even children like me can be leaders.

As I walked down the fairway, thoughts of what had happened earlier in the round began to press in on my mind.
On the seventh hole of the junior golf tournament, my third shot had come to rest in the middle of the narrow fairway. I hit the ball. It sailed onto the green, took two bounces, and fell into the hole. My partner was impressed.
“Great shot. Is that a three?”
“Yes,” I had replied confidently. But I hadn’t really made a three. It had taken me four strokes to get the ball in the hole. But I thought one stroke wasn’t going to mean anything.
By the time I finished, I realized I had played the round of my life.
I headed back toward the clubhouse, adding my partner Joe’s scorecard as I walked.
At the scorer’s table, I handed Joe his scorecard, and he gave me mine. “You’re in first place,” he said.
I looked up at the scoreboard and thought, This score would put me in first place. Looking down at my card, I noticed the “3” I had given myself on the seventh hole was standing out like a neon sign. I could change it to a “4.” But I’m in first place by two strokes. That one stroke won’t make any difference, I thought.
I signed my name at the bottom of the card and handed it to the scorer. I watched with fascination as my name was placed at the top of the list on the giant scoreboard. I made my way to the pop machine. I was actually in first place.
While sipping on my soda, I sauntered over to the base of an elm tree, sat down against it, and began to think about what I had done.
In church, Scouting, and at home, I had been taught to be honest in my dealings with others.
I glanced again at the scoreboard. More scores were being posted. Then I noticed Fred Baker was only one stroke behind me. Now that one stroke I hadn’t counted meant the difference between undisputed first place and a tie.
Everyone cheats, I kept thinking. I remembered when Joe moved his ball to a better position when it came to rest in a bare spot of grass. Besides, no one will ever know what I did, I reasoned.
I again walked slowly to the scorer’s table and past the gigantic first-place trophy. “That sure would look nice in our family’s trophy case,” I mumbled to myself. As I walked past the trophy, I decided what I had to do.
“Can I help you, son?” the scorekeeper asked.
“Sir, I seem to have made a mistake on my scorecard. On the seventh hole, I made a four, not a three.”
“Have you already signed your scorecard?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, knowing I would be disqualified for turning in an incorrect scorecard.
“I’m sorry, son, but you know the rule.”
“I guess I’m disqualified then,” I mumbled. Tears welled in my eyes.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. What’s your name? I’ll need to remove it from the scoreboard.”
“Jae Markham,” I said. I then stood by and watched as my name was scratched from the top spot.
That afternoon I slowly walked to the parking lot with my golf bag over my shoulder. The sun was bright and figures still dotted the course.
I looked back again at the first-place trophy, and somehow it didn’t seem so big anymore.

A few years ago, I created a video to go along with the Light the World Christmas campaign that received over 2.5 million views. I thought, “Should I put a scripture at the end? Or give people a challenge to be baptized? Is it my duty to dedicate my YouTube channel to missionary work?”
I really wrestled with that last question. I’m able to reach more people right now than the early missionaries and early pioneers could have even dreamed of! So I went to the temple with this question, ready and willing for whatever answer I would get.
And the answer that came was, “Do your ministering, and do your calling.”
I realized that Jesus Christ didn’t need me to baptize every one of my subscribers. He needed me to focus on serving the people around me.

I love to build rockets and learn French and Korean in my spare time. Recently, I felt inspired to help the firefighters fighting the fires in Colorado. I decided to make firefighter grab bags. The bags had water bottles, a bandana, a granola bar, antibacterial wipes, sunscreen, and hand sanitizer. Many people donated money and supplies toward my project. When I delivered the bags a warm, calm feeling touched my soul. Seeing the appreciation in the eyes of the firefighters let me know how important service really is.
Lindsay C., 15, Colorado, USA

I well remember one of my first semesters at the university. I was taking a physics course and had dutifully attended each session, taking copious notes. There were times I had actually picked up the text and read portions of it, and so I felt somewhat confident as I walked into class the day of my first midterm. That was a memorable experience for me, and one I am not likely to soon forget. I sat down at my desk with the exam and read through the questions on the first page, and then the following pages. I just sat there dazed for a few moments, unable to answer any question, when finally a brilliant thought occurred to me. I got up, walked to the back and checked the number on the door with the hope that I had accidentally walked into the wrong room. That hope quickly died as I immediately realized that I was indeed in the correct room, on the correct day, with the correct test in front of me. Sadly, as I returned to my seat with pencil in hand and an untouched answer sheet next to the test, I had to come to grips with the fact that there was hardly a question that evoked even an inkling of familiarity for me. So, I did the only thing I could, under the circumstances. I panicked and burst into tears, and in the end gave a much less than stellar performance on the exam.

My father was a professor at that same university, and he highly valued both education and hard work. He often used to tell us children, You can do anything in this world you want if you are willing to pay the price. And if you really want it, the price will be worth it. I really wanted to not fail physics, but it was clear that the price I would have to pay would be much more than I had given to my studies in high school. I moped and worried, got angry and then depressed. Finally, I paid the price meaning in this case, I put in the kind of hard work a college physics class demanded and, although definitely not the class star, I am happy to report that in the end I passed the course.

That was actually a critical point in my life as I had to acknowledge that no matter how smart or talented or attractive or humble or spiritual we are, there will always be things that create challenges for us. And actually, that seems to be an essential part of the Lord's plan for us that we are tried and tested in ways that lead to growth experiences. There are just a lot of things in life that are hard, and we can be defeated by them or we can make the decision to not give up, to hang in there and keep moving forward towards our goals.

I think of Elder Neal A. Maxwell and some of the challenges he faced during his teenage years. His parents were very poor. It was embarrassing to him that early on they did not have indoor bathroom facilities like so many of his friends. He raised pigs, and that didn’t gain him a lot of popularity at high school either. He suffered from severe acne that challenged his confidence and sense of self-worth. He wondered if he would ever be socially acceptable to others.
He was intensely interested in athletics—particularly basketball—and was good enough to be able to play on the team as a freshman. But in later years, he was cut from the team and the sport he loved. Consequently, as he described it, “I turned to the world of words.” That became an immense blessing for him in his political, university, and educational assignments and to all of us he now serves as one of the Lord’s prophets, seers, and revelators.

Jayant loved the Church even before he became a member. He liked to listen to his uncle talk about the gospel and tell how he had been the first person from India to join the Church in Fiji.
After listening to the missionaries, Jayant asked his parents if he might join the Church. They gave their permission, and Jayant tried hard to be a missionary to his family by living the principles of the gospel and being a good example.
Before long Jayant’s father and brother were baptized, but his mother hesitated. Her grandfather had been an important Hindu priest in India, and she was worried about what her family would say if she became a Mormon. Because of the example of her son, however, she too finally joined the Church.
Now all of Jayant’s family are active in their branch in Suva, Fiji, and they know the love and joy that come from serving our Father in heaven.

We were all sitting around talking in the lobby of the meetinghouse when a girl walked in carrying a page torn from a magazine.
“Can you believe this?” said the girl, incredulously, holding the magazine ad so her friends could see. “Look at this picture. If anyone believes this, they’re crazy.”
The two nearest her took the page, looked at it briefly, and started snickering. Soon all the girls crowded around. This group of girls, between the ages of 18 and 20, had one thing in common. They were all employed as nannies in the Boston, Massachusetts, area. I had asked them to talk about their reasons for choosing to become nannies and what they had learned about the experience. Now I had to see what they were laughing at.
I looked over their shoulders at a full-page ad. The copy said something about the exciting opportunities awaiting girls who wanted to become nannies. The picture was of a pretty young girl in a frilly dress, seated on a couch with a poodle lying beside her on the cushion. A black baby grand piano was behind her. Seated at the girl’s feet were two perfectly groomed children smiling up at her as she read from a storybook.
“That isn’t how it is,” said Leslie Bentall, a former nanny. “You walk around in sweat pants with your hair pulled back while kids in dirty diapers pull you in all directions. The homes are often not as nice as they are made out to be. You’re asked to do child care, but then you’re made to wash walls and clean windows, do carpools, and baby-sit every night of the week.”

This is our second child, Chrysanne. She is extremely creative, and a joy in my life. Several years after the birth of our first child we started working with medical experts in Southern California in order to have a second child. Nothing seemed to work. I would give my wife daily injections, we would then go to an infertility clinic in Hollywood each month for a procedure, only to be told later that it did not work out. Trust me, for us Hollywood is a place of many shattered dreams. Again we were filled with heartache and petitioned the Lord for help with this righteous desire. Shouldn’t we have another child? Didn’t our little girl deserve a sibling?

After years of trying we had dinner at the home of some friends who were not members of our Church. They too were dealing with infertility and had started the process of adoption. They detailed what was required, and we felt their excitement and hope to have a child of their own. Adoption was something Caryn and I had never contemplated before. As we discussed adoption with our friends, the Spirit entered our hearts and we both felt that this was something we should explore. Maybe we needed to open up another window for the Lord to send us this desired blessing. However, what we did not realize was what a hassle it was to become eligible for adoption in the state of California! We had to become certified foster parents first, take infant CPR & first aid, take several child raising courses, have home inspections, and fill out mountains of paperwork. To be honest, we both got discouraged by the shear scope of the endeavor. We had a sweet little girl at home, and my life was busy with my PhD program and being in the bishopric. Maybe we were ok with just the three of us. And then the Lord spoke to me. I was working on some homework and looked over at the adoption paperwork on the desk nearby that still needed to be done, and the Spirit said quite forcefully “Do it! Do it NOW!” I immediately stopped what I was doing and started working on the numerous essays that still needed to be written. I called out to Caryn, and said, “I feel we need to get this done right away.” Together we finished the paperwork, submitted it to the LDS Family Services, and then got back to our lives. I don't know why I had that strong impression from the Spirit, since nothing progressed with the adoption for months.

As time went along, we moved from Los Angeles to Oklahoma City, and started a new phase of our lives. My new job was exciting and fulfilling, and we bought a beautiful home. A few months after arriving we got a call from the Oklahoma offices of LDS Family Services asking if we were still interested in adoption, and that they got our paperwork transferred from California. They asked us to meet with them the next day. When we arrived for what we thought was just a “get to know you” meeting, we were told we had been selected for adoption, and that the baby would be arriving in 3 weeks. Just imagine, this is like finding out you were 8 1?2 months pregnant and didn’t realize it!

We were told about a young woman in California who, when she found out she was pregnant, saw our paperwork just 2-3 days after we had finished it. It was her first opportunity to consider who the adoptive parents for her future baby would be, and the Spirit had strongly spoken to her as she saw our pictures that we were the parents who the Lord wanted to raise this baby. If I had not listened to the Spirit back when I was busy with my PhD program, she would never have seen our paperwork, and we would not have our beautiful and creative Chrysanne as part of our family. Because Caryn and I, as well as this sweet young woman, listened to the spirit, and followed up on those promptings, the Lord was able to change four lives for the better.

In my class at school, there are only two other members of the Church. What we believe is like a new world to some of my classmates. They often ask us questions about the gospel, and some are difficult to answer. If we don’t know the answer to a question, we discuss it together and seek guidance from our Church leaders. Once we know how to respond, we tell our classmates about what we know to be true. I have even invited some of them to come and see for themselves how we worship, and they’ve received good feelings about sacrament meeting.

A few years ago, a 19-month-old girl, Hope Gentile, was diagnosed with a tumor in her lower back. “Over the next five months of surgeries and chemotherapy,” Hope’s father, Nicholas, said, “Hope’s battle for life created a kaleidoscope of experiences.”
One night during Hope’s second five-day round of chemotherapy, Brother Gentile noticed how much hair she had lost. Her remaining strawberry blonde wisps painfully reminded him of her mortality. Nevertheless, he found solace in the Lord’s promise that “a hair of [her] head shall not fall to the ground unnoticed” (Doctrine and Covenants 84:116).
“I felt that Jesus Christ was deeply aware of Hope’s journey—and our heartache,” Brother Gentile said. “He did ‘not leave [us] comfortless’” (John 14:18).
During bedtime one evening as he read a board book to Hope, Brother Gentile asked in a silly voice, “What does the owl say?” Giggling, Hope replied, “Hoo, hoo!” Then he asked, “What does the cow say?” Hope proudly responded, “Moo, moo!”
At that moment, a picture of the Savior in Hope’s bedroom caught Brother Gentile’s attention. The Spirit prompted him to ask, “Hope, and what does Jesus say?”
Hope snuggled into his shoulder, opened her big blue eyes, and whispered, “‘Hold you.’ Jesus says, ‘Hold you.’”
Brother Gentile gently hugged Hope’s tiny body and deeply sobbed. As Hope hugged back, she whispered, “Love you, Dada.”
Jesus will hold us and bless us during our trials if we let Him.
Hope’s trial and uncertain future drew Brother Gentile, his wife, Christina, and their family closer—to each other and to the Savior. “Jesus was holding our family in His loving arms,” Brother Gentile said. “I have pondered the tender truth God taught me through my daughter’s words: Jesus will hold us and bless us during our trials if we let Him.”1
Hope Gentile, four days before her first chemotherapy treatment in March 2015.
I am happy to report that the Gentile family’s faith and prayers were answered. Today, Hope is a healthy, happy 10-year-old.

One of the pivotal experiences of his life happened when he was 15 years old. His brother, Joe, wanted to serve a mission, but his father—a good man who had lost interest in Church activity—felt Joe should instead attend medical school. Joe and Quentin respected their father highly, so they sequestered themselves to consider his counsel.
They talked well into the night, balancing the pros and cons of each option. The bottom line, they decided, was this: If the Church is just another good institution, Joe could help people better by going to medical school. However, if the Savior truly lived, if Joseph Smith truly was a prophet, if the Church he organized under God’s direction truly is the Church of Jesus Christ, if the Book of Mormon is true, then Joe’s obligation was clear. The next morning Joe approached his father with that reasoning and bore his testimony. He left for his mission soon after, with his father’s support and his mother’s joyful blessing.
That conversation profoundly affected young Quentin. He had always had a testimony of the Savior. However, Joseph Smith, the Church, the Book of Mormon—these were another matter to a 15-year-old. He believed, but he had yet to receive a spiritual witness that confirmed their certain reality.
After he and Joe parted that night, Quentin went to his room, knelt in prayer, and asked for the same witness his brother had, a witness he desired with all his heart. And it came in a way so powerful that any doubts he had were swept away forever.

There are a few hurdles along the way in seminary study—scripture tests for one. Even good students shy away from the dreaded “test.” An amusing incident occurred when the teacher had to leave a telephone message with her 11-year-old son, Jeffrey, for the seminary supervisor. Wanting to make sure the request for 21 copies of the scripture sheet for pretesting students would be given correctly, she asked Jeffrey to repeat back the message. He read, “Please send 21 copies of the scripture sheet for protesting students!” Despite the occasional need for tests, most lessons are aimed at stretching and unfolding the students’ knowledge. Many teaching moments have happened at the very instant they were needed most. Like the week two young ladies became angry with each other on the way to seminary. They sat down and the meeting began. Their faces were preoccupied and gloomy. The scripture discussed in Scripture Mastery seemed to apply to them. In Doctrine and Covenants 64:9–11 they learned about how to truly forgive. [D&C 64:9–11] By the end of the meeting both girls were back to normal.

In closing may I share with you an example of one who determined early in life what his goals would be. I speak of Brother Clayton M. Christensen, a member of the Church who is a professor of business administration in the business school at Harvard University.

When he was 16 years old, Brother Christensen decided, among other things, that he would not play sports on Sunday. Years later, when he attended Oxford University in England, he played center on the basketball team. That year they had an undefeated season and went through to the British equivalent of what in the United States would be the NCAA basketball tournament.

They won their games fairly easily in the tournament, making it to the final four. It was then that Brother Christensen looked at the schedule and, to his absolute horror, saw that the final basketball game was scheduled to be played on a Sunday. He and the team had worked so hard to get where they were, and he was the starting center. He went to his coach with his dilemma. His coach was unsympathetic and told Brother Christensen he expected him to play in the game.

Prior to the final game, however, there was a semifinal game. Unfortunately, the backup center dislocated his shoulder, which increased the pressure on Brother Christensen to play in the final game. He went to his hotel room. He knelt down. He asked his Heavenly Father if it would be all right, just this once, if he played that game on Sunday. He said that before he had finished praying, he received the answer: “Clayton, what are you even asking me for? You know the answer.”

He went to his coach, telling him how sorry he was that he wouldn’t be playing in the final game. Then he went to the Sunday meetings in the local ward while his team played without him. He prayed mightily for their success. They did win.

That fateful, difficult decision was made more than 30 years ago. Brother Christensen has said that as time has passed, he considers it one of the most important decisions he ever made. It would have been very easy to have said, “You know, in general, keeping the Sabbath day holy is the right commandment, but in my particular extenuating circumstance, it’s okay, just this once, if I don’t do it.” However, he says his entire life has turned out to be an unending stream of extenuating circumstances, and had he crossed the line just that once, then the next time something came up that was so demanding and critical, it would have been so much easier to cross the line again. The lesson he learned is that it is easier to keep the commandments 100 percent of the time than it is 98 percent of the time.13