Gospel Story Finder

Ian paced the room like a caged lion. He took a book from the shelf and leafed through it quickly, then replaced it and stood in front of the fireplace. He went to look anxiously out one window after another.
His mother watched his pacing. She saw the lines of concern on his brow. Finally she looked up from her embroidery and smiled. “There is nothing to see outside but the moonlit frozen ground and snow,” she said as the wind whistled around the corners of the house.
Ian clasped his hands behind his back and continued to stare out at the bleak landscape. “I know,” he replied thoughtfully. “But many out there may be in need of much.”
“Then do what your heart tells you to do, Ian,” she suggested with a knowing smile.
Instantly, his pensive mood lifted. “You always understand,” he said, smiling back at her. He kissed her pale cheek quickly and hurried to his chambers, where he pulled a cord and reached for his thick felt boots, long warm coat, and snug fur hat. Soon his servant appeared. “Load the sleigh, Oleg,” Ian said with a broad smile. “We ride into this night.” Oleg’s smile matched Ian’s as he hurried away to prepare.
Soon the smooth runners of the sleigh glided over the snow and ice while the gentle tinkling of bells announced Ian’s passing to the wolves that roamed the forest. At the crossroad the sleigh was halted, and the horses snorted and tugged in their traces. Then Ian pointed north, for he was sure that he would find what he was seeking there. With a crack of the whip, Oleg sent the sleigh on against the howling wind.
Across the frozen wasteland, Ian saw the dim glow of a light in a peasant’s hut. When they reached the rustic dwelling, Oleg stopped the sleigh. “Here?” he asked.
Ian clapped his back. “Come, and we will soon know.” Quickly he pulled the bearskin rug from their laps, jumped down from the sleigh, and knocked loudly on the door, which was finally opened by a scowling peasant holding a lantern high. As soon as he saw the fine clothes and horses, he bowed and motioned Ian and his servant indoors. “Enter Stefan’s humble hut, fine sir—you and your servant both. Come in and be warmed.”
When a hot cup had been set before Ian by the fire and Oleg by the pantry, Ian glanced around. “You have wood enough for your fire?” he asked as he nodded at the dancing flames.
“I have wood stacked to the roof of my shed!” Stefan replied proudly.
“And food?” Ian wondered aloud. “Is there enough food for your family and livestock?”
The man thumped the table with his fist. “Four children sleep snugly in the loft above, and let me tell you that last summer’s fine weather and good growing season were not wasted on me and mine. We worked hard to stock our larder and bin with fine vegetables and grains. The autumn hunt was just as bounteous. Tonight’s rabbit stew is still on the fire, and you’re welcome to a bite,” Stefan offered.
Ian smiled. “Thank you. This broth is quite enough. So you have provided for you and yours. I am happy that you do so well.”
“To be sure,” Stefan added, “with winter hardly begun, we must use what we have very carefully.” He looked smugly at Ian and boasted, “But I am a prudent man. I am not to be compared to stupid Dorcas!”
Ian leaned forward with sudden interest. “Who is Dorcas?”
Stefan laughed. “He is the biggest fool of all! He and his family worked hard all season. He stocked his larder and provided well for his family and animals too. But with the first sign of winter, beggars, widows, and orphans travel the roads, as you must know. They come morning and night, pleading for food—and stupid Dorcas feeds them all!”
Ian nodded. “Do they knock on your door, too, goodman?”
Stefan rubbed his beard and shook his head. “No. They learned long ago that I have nothing for beggars and the like! Why should I work hard just to give so much of what I have away!”
“But beggars, orphans, and widows have no plot of land to call their own,” Ian countered. “What do you tell them to do?”
“I just send them on their way,” Stefan declared. “It is not my problem! I’ve told Dorcas many times to do as I do. But, as I say, he’s a stupid man!”
“If he gives much of what he has to others, how will he get through the winter?”
Stefan threw back his head and laughed. “Not by begging from me! That’s his problem.”
“But you must know Dorcas well—how can you turn him away?”
“I know him well all right. His hut is just beyond the next crossroad,” Stefan said, waving his hand in that direction. “And that’s where he’ll stay, for he knows well how I feel.”
“Thank you, goodman,” Ian said as he nodded to his servant and pulled his greatcoat around his shoulders. “We must be off.”
Stefan looked at Ian anxiously. “But you have not said why you came,” he objected with a puzzled frown. “Is there no business that I can do with you? Why else are you out on such a fierce night as this?”
Ian shrugged. “I had come to see if there was something that I could do for you. I have a sleigh filled with provisions, which I was thinking to give you. But you are well stocked without my help, so I shall continue on my way.”
Stefan stood abruptly and helped Ian with his coat. “I have room for more, fine sir. Who can tell how long and hard the winter will be?” he whined.
Ian slowly pulled on his gloves. “True, but it is very difficult to give to someone who keeps his hands clenched so tightly around what he already has. If you have need, I will hear of it and return,” he promised.
Stefan began to stammer. “Clearly I am a good steward,” he argued. “I waste nothing that is given to me and mine.”
Ian fastened his coat. “That may be, but a good steward also shares what he is given, and though you take good care of your household, there are others who have no household at all. The one who shares with them will get my provisions. Thank you for your hospitality on this cold night.”
Stefan’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. “Where will you take your provisions?”
Ian lifted the door latch. “Dorcas is the one I seek,” he answered.
Oleg climbed onto the seat beside Ian, and they wrapped the bearskin rug snugly around their legs. “I am sorry that you did not find the one you were seeking here,” Oleg said.
“But I did,” Ian said with a smile from deep in the folds of his collar. “We know now where to go—just beyond the next crossroad to the hut of Dorcas.”

I don’t think any of us had any idea how big America really was. When we landed in Boston, we didn’t realize that our long journey was just beginning, rather than nearing its end.
From Boston, we traveled to Iowa City, Iowa, by railroad. The new railroad saved us weeks of traveling by wagon. The cattle cars were crowded, but we endured the journey well. The train stopped in Buffalo, New York, on the Fourth of July. We could only watch the people celebrate. How I wanted to join them!
Finally we arrived in Iowa City. From the train station, we walked three miles in rain and mud to the place where we were to meet the Church’s agent in charge of organizing the trek. We had been assured that everything would be ready for us when we arrived, but it wasn’t. The handcarts hadn’t even been built! We camped and worked at preparing for the journey until all was ready.
Eventually the handcarts were obtained, and our family was assigned to Captain Edward Martin’s company. Near the end of July 1856, we cheerfully began our journey to Zion. Our family had three carts when we started out. Each cart could carry about 120 pounds of baggage, 100 pounds of flour, cooking utensils, and additional food. There were 576 people in our company. I’d never been with so many members of the Church!
Pulling the handcarts wasn’t bad at first. But many of them broke down because they were built of green wood. We pulled those carts three hundred miles to Florence, Nebraska. The last members of our company, and the Willie company, arrived there on August 22. As soon as we arrived, there was some disagreement as to whether we should continue on. Some said that it was too late in the year. They felt that we should set up a winter camp in Florence and wait until spring to travel to Salt Lake City. But most of the Saints were for starting immediately. After much discussion, it was decided to continue on. We were anxious to finish our long journey. About a thousand miles remained ahead of us, but we had already come so many miles that another thousand seemed like a short trip. We didn’t know that the worst part of our journey was still ahead.

Four-year-old Jayde Cluff’s sixty-cent donation to help victims of the 11 September 2001 terrorist attack touched hearts across the nation and inspired others to donate, too.
When Jayde, who was living in Utah, saw a news broadcast of the attack, she was very sad. Three days later, while walking to preschool, she gave her mother a handful of dimes and said, “Mommy, this can help the people who were hurt in those towers.” Her mother knew that Jayde had been saving her ten-cents-a-week allowance for a long time. “That’s the money you’ve been saving for your doll,” she reminded Jayde. “Send that money to New York,” Jayde said.
So the next day, Jayde and Mommy taped the six dimes to a letter to the New York City mayor, Mayor Rudolph Giuliani. Mommy wrote, “I know this contribution is only pennies, but we are a family of little means, and this is my daughter’s greatest treasure. Please send it where it can help someone.”
Word of Jayde’s sacrifice reached the manufacturer of the doll she wanted, and they sent her 17 dolls and clothing and other things for them in a box taller than she was. Moments after opening the box, Jayde drew out a particular doll and told her mother, “This is the doll, Mommy. This is the one I want to give to the little girl who lost her daddy,” referring to a firefighter’s little girl whom Jayde had seen on television. Jayde’s parents were able to locate the girl and send her the doll so that it arrived on her birthday.
A hotel worker heard about what Jayde was doing, and his heart was touched. He sent her another doll. A New York police officer sent her some police badges and another doll. More dolls came from other people whose hearts were touched. Altogether, she received 46 dolls and other toys and gifts!
Jayde gave all of the things to grieving families and to other needy children. Mommy talked to the families to learn which doll would be best for each child. If there was a boy in the family, a different toy was sent for him. Children who lived as far away as Washington and Arizona received dolls from Jayde. Some went to the local Toys for Tots organization.
And Jayde’s effort to be like Jesus Christ inspired her sisters, too. They have raised money by doing chores. Jayde’s sixty-cent donation came from her heart—and touched the hearts of many people all across the nation.

Last summer the youth in our ward were challenged to read the entire Book of Mormon. Eventually the summer came to an end, and I finished the Book of Mormon. As I kneeled to pray and asked if the book was true, I remember thinking that this was it—I would finally have the experience that everyone seems to talk about where they are overcome by the Spirit.
The truth is, when I prayed, I didn’t feel that way. At first I was a little upset. Why hadn’t I received such a witness? Was I not worthy? But I soon realized that though many people might feel the Spirit confirming truth to them very strongly when they pray about the Book of Mormon, there are many others who don’t have that same experience. Just because you may not receive an extremely strong confirmation does not mean the Book of Mormon isn’t true or that your testimony is not as strong as someone else’s. It simply means that the Spirit can speak to people in different ways and at different times.
For me, this experience taught me that we don’t always receive answers in the way we expect. I thought I would feel an overpowering spiritual impression after I prayed about the Book of Mormon—but I didn’t. Honestly, I believe I already knew it was true.
Though I may not have felt the Spirit very strongly at that time, I knew I had felt it while reading about Alma’s conversion and about Ammon and his brothers bringing thousands of Lamanites to the gospel, and about Christ teaching the Nephites after His Resurrection. I realized that feeling the Spirit while reading different parts of the Book of Mormon also confirmed to me that the entire book was true.

Sister Vida Osei of Ghana wanted to learn to read and write English. She had tried community programs a number of times but had become discouraged and quit within weeks. Then one Sunday while attending meetings at the Second Branch, she learned that the Asamankese District was sponsoring an English literacy program. She decided to take a chance and enroll.
She soon found that this program was different. She would be able to attend with friends from church. Scriptures are used as study materials, so she would learn English and the gospel at the same time.
Two months after starting the class, Vida gave her first prayer in a class—ever. Three months after starting, she gave her first-ever talk in sacrament meeting, partially in Twi, a local African language, and partially in English. Four months after beginning, she began writing in a tattered notebook the orders, costs, and prices for her work as a self-employed seamstress. She made fewer mistakes with customers, got lower prices from vendors, and made more money than she had before in any previous month.
“I was too shy to attend a literacy class with just anyone,” she said. “But when the literacy class was held at the meetinghouse with members I knew, it gave me the courage to try again. And now I can read the scriptures and improve my business by reading and writing English.”

Much of our public reputation as a university comes in and through the high visibility of our athletic teams. But for me the win-loss records, the national championships, the tremendous thrills of watching championship play are not as valued as the spiritual dimensions within athletic programs. I recorded this journal entry on December 7, 1996:
I joined the volleyball team at the national tournament Wednesday afternoon just in time to see their second match in pool play. They beat Hastings and Point-Loma in three sets. On Thursday, against Peru State, I saw something I had never experienced as a participant or as a spectator. Our girls crushed Peru State 15-1, 15-5 in the first two sets. Then, as if some powerful bewitchment came over them, they let down everything and they became as sheep at the slaughter. They lost miserably the next three sets and the match, the only loss of the season, breaking a string of 52 consecutive victories. I was traumatized, stunned and I could feel the humiliation of the girls who came to the tournament with such confidence and fanfare. The news of our defeat created shockwaves of disbelief back in Hawaii. BYU-Hawaii was beatable. The ladies collapsed. Fortunately, the defeat happened in pool play which was still double elimination. We would have another chance. The girls, to their credit rebounded from the defeat and won the rest of their matches and the national championship in straight sets. It was a thrilling comeback. Yet I was touched most by the sweetness of the sisterhood of the team. Coach Navalta told me he gives priesthood blessings periodically to players, including non-LDS players. It was a thrill to be in the devotional/testimony meeting after the final victory. Each person in the room expressed thanks and bore testimony. We knelt in prayer holding hands. A moment never to be forgotten.

Even in rich nations little children and youth are impaired by neglect. Children growing up in poverty have inferior health care and inadequate educational opportunities. They are also exposed to dangerous environments in their physical and cultural surroundings and even from the neglect of their parents. Elder Jeffrey R. Holland recently shared the experience of an LDS police officer. In an investigation he found five young children huddled together and trying to sleep without bedding on a filthy floor in a dwelling where their mother and others were drinking and partying. The apartment had no food to relieve their hunger. After tucking the children into a makeshift bed, the officer knelt and prayed for their protection. As he walked toward the door, one of them, about six, pursued him, grabbed him by the hand, and pleaded, “Will you please adopt me?”

Please turn to Joseph Smith-History 1:16 -17. He was only a few years younger than most of you. Remember how you felt at that age? He had been enveloped in thick darkness and felt as if he were "doomed to destruction," when ...I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me. It no sooner appeared than I found myself delivered from the enemy which held me bound. When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name [Joseph] and said, pointing to the other - This is my Beloved Son. Hear Him![10]
Many times on my mission I repeated the words that painted that prophet's picture. I remember the impact on me and those I taught as I recounted Joseph's experience. I learned then, for certain, that the Holy Ghost delivers truth directly to our spirits. Each time I repeated those familiar words, I saw the picture. I knew that our Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son, Jesus, had indeed, appeared to Joseph. I saw those whom I taught feel the confirming spirit of the Holy Ghost as well. It was one of the most powerful and memorable lessons of my life. Why does this image touch me so deeply? Many of you know these feelings.

“In 1976 an area general conference was held in Copenhagen, Denmark. Following the closing session, President Spencer W. Kimball [1895–1985] desired to visit the Vor Frue Church, where the Thorvaldsen statues of the Christus and of the Twelve Apostles stand. …
“To the front of the church, behind the altar, stands the familiar statue of the Christus with His arms turned forward and somewhat outstretched, the hands showing the imprint of the nails, and the wound in His side very clearly visible. Along each side stand the statues of the Apostles, Peter at the front to the right and the other Apostles in order.
“Most of our group was near the rear of the chapel with the custodian. I stood up front with President Kimball before the statue of Peter with Elder Rex D. Pinegar and Johan Helge Benthin, president of the Copenhagen stake.
“In Peter’s hand, depicted in marble, is a set of heavy keys. President Kimball pointed to those keys and explained what they symbolized. Then, in an act I shall never forget, he turned to President Benthin and with unaccustomed firmness pointed his finger at him and said, ‘I want you to tell everyone in Denmark that I hold the keys! We hold the real keys, and we use them every day.’
“I will never forget that declaration, that testimony from the prophet. The influence was spiritually powerful; the impression was physical in its impact.
“We walked to the back of the chapel where the rest of the group was standing. Pointing to the statues, President Kimball said to the kind custodian, ‘These are the dead Apostles.’ Pointing to me, he said, ‘Here we have the living Apostles. Elder Packer is an Apostle. Elder Thomas S. Monson and Elder L. Tom Perry are Apostles, and I am an Apostle. We are the living Apostles.
“‘You read about the Seventies in the New Testament, and here are two of the living Seventies, Elder Rex D. Pinegar and Elder Robert D. Hales.’
“The custodian, who up to that time had shown no emotion, suddenly was in tears.
“I felt I had had an experience of a lifetime.”2

A number of years ago, I attended my 20-year high school reunion. I hadn’t seen many of my former classmates since graduation day, and I was excited for the opportunity to see them again. Some of these classmates surprised me; a few who were formerly well-behaved youth had since gotten into trouble or seemed to have otherwise changed for the worse. A few others who used to have lower standards were now active Church members, and I could see that the power of the Atonement had been at work in their lives.
However, I noted with interest that the majority of my former classmates were on the same path they had been following in high school. The decisions they had made so many years ago had largely determined where they were today. Many who had been good, righteous teenagers were now righteous adults. And many who had started down the wrong path so long ago were still on that course.
As a teenager, you are faced with decisions every day that can influence the course of your life and will decide what kind of person you will become. You cannot see exactly where your future will lead, but you can ensure your future happiness by making righteous decisions now. Here are some guidelines that will help you when making important decisions. They will help get you on the path of righteousness and make sure you don’t wander.
Several years ago, I was in the market for a van. My wife and I had nine children, and we needed a larger vehicle. One day, I saw a big 12-passenger van for sale. I contacted the owner, who let me take it for a test drive. I was worried about the height of the van, so I decided to drive it home to see if it would fit in our garage.
I eyeballed the van and the garage door, and it looked like the van was too tall. I got a tape measure and measured the van, then the garage door. Sure enough, the van was too tall. But I wanted the van so badly; I wanted it to fit! So I called my wife out and said, “Come out and watch this. I’m going to try to pull the van into the garage and see if I can make it.” Luckily, before I actually tried to pull the van in, I thought, Wait a minute, I know I can’t make it! I realized that I had two reliable standards already. When I looked at the van, I could see it was too tall. And when I measured the door and the van, I could see the van wouldn’t fit. Yet I was almost willing to risk damage to the van and the garage by trying to drive it in. My personal desires almost kept me from trusting the standards.
When you have difficult choices to make, use your parents, your leaders, words of the prophets, and the scriptures as standards to see if your decisions fit, so to speak. The For the Strength of Youth pamphlet is another terrific resource. There’s no need to spend a lot of time worrying about many of the choices you’re faced with, because the answers are right there in that little pamphlet. It contains very specific guidelines for music, media, dress, and so forth. Follow the standards it contains. Don’t be like those who think, “If I look at this standard from a different angle, maybe my unrighteous decision will fit.”
You will find joy as you make choices that help you follow the Savior. Everything our Heavenly Father does is calculated to bring us joy and happiness. “Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy” (2 Nephi 2:25). On the other hand, Satan’s devices always lead to misery. But he tries to disguise this fact. He tells us, “Commit this sin and it will make you happy.” But it’s a lie. Sin always leads to misery. Remember Alma’s words to Corianton: “Wickedness never was happiness” (Alma 41:10).
Mormon’s counsel in Moroni 7 is very wise. In verses 16 and 17 he says: “Wherefore, I show unto you the way to judge; for every thing which inviteth to do good, and to persuade to believe in Christ, is sent forth by the power and gift of Christ; wherefore ye may know with a perfect knowledge it is of God.
“But whatsoever thing persuadeth men to do evil, and believe not in Christ, and deny him, and serve not God, then ye may know with a perfect knowledge it is of the devil.”
When you are faced with an important decision, be sure that your choice will lead you nearer to Christ.
It is important that you come to understand how the Holy Ghost works in your life. Learn to recognize and understand the Spirit’s gentle promptings, and have the courage to always follow them. When you are faced with a hard decision, following the Holy Ghost can make all the difference.
I remember once, while on a break from high school, a friend and I decided to go hiking through the slot canyons in southern Utah. We drove for several hours to our destination and then hiked to a nice campsite by the river and spent the night.
When we got up in the morning, all my excitement for our hiking trip was gone. Instead, I had a feeling that we ought to return home. For more than two hours this feeling kept bothering me; then suddenly, it went away. I felt so relieved because, frankly, I was afraid to share my feelings with my friend. We’d spent so many hours driving and hiking to our campsite and planned to spend several more days hiking and camping. I was afraid of what my friend would think of me if I said, “I think we ought to go home.”
After lunch, my friend left the campsite to be alone for a few minutes. When he returned, he said, “I think we’d better go home.”
“I do, too,” I said. We cut our trip short and went home.
Today I still think about that experience. I didn’t listen to the Spirit—or at least I didn’t act on the promptings I felt—and the Spirit left me. I am grateful that my friend had the courage to listen and follow.
You also have the Holy Ghost to give you direction. You know what is right. You can feel it. You know when you’re not supposed to watch a certain movie or play a particular video game. You may be tempted to ignore or go against the promptings of the Spirit because you are afraid of how others will react to your decision. Be courageous and do what you know is right.
As a teenager, you face challenging decisions on a regular basis. The choices you make now will shape your character and help to determine the person you will be years from now. Don’t wait until you’re an adult to figure out how to recognize the Spirit; learn now. The Lord will be generous in providing you with opportunities to feel what is right. If you learn to recognize and follow the Spirit, your life will be blessed forever, and you will receive the guidance you need in making important choices.

I served my mission in Arkansas, USA. About a month before I returned home, my mission president said: “You will not be full-time missionaries forever. In fact, you will only be full-time missionaries for a very small portion of your lives. But it is your responsibility to be full-time covenant keepers forever.”

These words changed me. As I looked forward, I realized that preparing to go home wasn’t about how I would let go of my name tag—it was about using what I had learned and experienced on my mission to live my covenants.

After this realization, I said a prayer and began to make a list. I drew a line down a sheet of paper. The left side read, “Mission Life and Rules.” The right side read, “Living My Covenants.” I made connections between the two lists so they consisted of different actions that mirrored each other. On the last day of my mission, I took the paper and cut it in half. I read the rules to which I had given my all throughout my mission, and then I folded it up and tossed it away. I kept the covenant side of the paper and hung it up on my wall at home.

This list helped me keep my covenants in mind every day as I adjusted to coming home from my mission. The list below contains ideas that helped me personally, and may help you too:

Mission Life and Rules
Ideas for Living My Covenants
Wake up at 6:30 a.m. every day.
I strive to live a life consecrated to God. I should wake up early enough so I can fill the day with purpose.
Visit investigators and less-active members on a daily basis.
I will strive to mourn with those that mourn and comfort those who need comfort. I will get to know, visit, and love those around me.
Wear my name tag and missionary clothes.
My endowment has blessed me with the temple garment. I will dress in such a way that respects my garment and enjoy wearing normal clothes again.
Go to missionary meetings every week.
I have a chance to renew my covenants each week when I prepare for and take the sacrament.
Talk and testify to everyone you come in contact with.
I have covenanted to strive to be like my Savior. I am promised that as I remember Him and keep His commandments, I will always have His Spirit with me. I will try to treat everyone as children of God and follow the Spirit to know how I can help and serve them.
No dating (or any sort of romantic relationships).
I can work toward my goal of being sealed in the temple by dating those who share that goal and building meaningful relationships with others.
No social media, TV, movies, hanging out, etc.
I will use good media to learn, build up others, and enjoy life.
Study the scriptures for two hours a day.
I love the Spirit and the knowledge that comes from my scripture study. I will study the scriptures every day for at least 10 minutes.
My mission prepared me in unimaginable ways to live my covenants. I’m now doing what I need to do to keep my testimony strong. Missions are not a finish line or something to forget about after you go home. Missions can be a springboard into your life as a covenant keeper and lifelong disciple of Christ. Take the time to ask yourself if you’re truly understanding, focusing on, and living your covenants. Those covenants tie us to Heavenly Father, give us strength from the heavens, and offer so much light in our everyday life.

This picture was taken in São Paulo, Brazil, in 2004. Floripes Luzia Damasio of the Ipatinga Brazil Stake was 114 years old. Speaking of her conversion, Sister Damasio told me that missionaries in her village had given a priesthood blessing to a critically ill baby who miraculously recovered. She wanted to know more. As she prayed about their message, an undeniable witness of the Spirit confirmed to her that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. At 103, she was baptized, and at 104, she was endowed. Every year after, she made the 14-hour bus ride to spend a week in the temple. Sister Damasio had received a heavenly confirmation, and she knew that God knew that she knew that the witness was true.

How helpful this experience was for me twenty years later when my wife and I stood outside an emergency room in our home town. We had waited for hours as several doctors examined our sixteen-year-old daughter. She had been in an automobile accident and had been seriously injured. Our bishop and his wife joined us, along with the stake president and his wife.

When a doctor stepped out of the X-ray room, his voice choked as he told us that our daughter’s spinal cord had been severed and that she would never walk again. My sweetheart and I embraced while she wept, “Oh, no, no!” Our friends wept with us.

Later, as we drove home, we wondered how we could break the news to our daughter. We wondered, too, whether it would have been better for our Heavenly Father to have taken her out of this life. A few hours later, we returned to the hospital. As I leaned over to explain to our daughter, I could not contain my tears.

She opened her eyes, thrust out her arms, and exclaimed, “Don’t cry, Daddy. Look, I’ve got my arms, I’ve got my heart, I’ve got my mind, and I have all eternity to run around in.”

This story took place in Brazil.
“Now we’ll have a talk by Sister Almeida,” the bishop said.
Gabriel took out a piece of paper and some pencils. He liked to draw while he listened to the talks. So did his sister, Alice.
This time Alice drew a lion. Gabriel drew a dinosaur. He gave it a long neck and a tail.
Then Gabriel looked up. A little boy was walking toward them.
“Oh no!” he whispered to Alice. “Here comes Christian.”
Christian was four years old. He couldn’t talk, and he didn’t sit still. He walked around the chapel during meetings. Sometimes he scribbled on Gabriel’s drawings.
Gabriel hid his pencils behind his back. He didn’t want Christian to get them.
Christian reached for the pencils.
“No! These are mine!” Gabriel whispered, pointing to Christian’s family. “Go sit down.”
But Christian didn’t seem to understand. He kept grabbing for Gabriel’s pencils.
When the meeting was over, Gabriel walked with Mom and Alice to Primary.
“Why can Christian walk around the chapel but I need to be quiet?” Gabriel asked Mom.
“Christian has a different way of thinking,” Mom said. “Walking around helps him feel calm and comfortable.”
“But he always bothers us,” Gabriel said.
Alice frowned. “He just wants to draw.”
“But he doesn’t know how!”
“Maybe we can help him,” Alice said.
The next Sunday, Gabriel sat next to Alice during sacrament meeting. After the bread and water were passed, he pulled out his pencils and paper to draw. Then he saw Christian walking toward them.
Gabriel started to hide his pencils, but he paused. Christian had a big smile on his face. Gabriel remembered what Alice had said. Maybe he could help Christian draw this time!
Gabriel smiled back at Christian. He scooted over so Christian could sit between him and Alice. Gabriel gave Christian a pencil and paper. Alice helped Christian hold the pencil. Together they drew a stick figure.
Christian laughed and clapped his hands. He looked excited. Gabriel was excited too. This time Gabriel helped Christian hold the pencil. Together they drew a dog. Gabriel grinned. Drawing with Christian was fun.
When the meeting was over, Christian had a whole stack of drawings. He hugged the drawings tight and pointed to his family’s bench. Gabriel and Alice led Christian back to his family. Christian showed the drawings to his mom with a big smile.
Gabriel was glad he could draw with Christian. And he was glad he had a sister who was a good example.
Who can you help at church?
Illustrations by Josh Talbot

One day, Justina met two young missionaries in crisp white shirts and ties. Intrigued by their appearance and message, she invited them into her home and listened to their teachings. The message resonated with her, and in 2006, she was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Shortly afterward, her husband and daughters followed her example, embracing the gospel with open hearts.

When I was a student at BYU, I lived in the basement of a sweet, elderly couple. One day, as I knocked on the door to pay rent, our landlady answered the door in tears. When I asked her what was wrong, she explained to me that her grandson (we’ll call him Jimmy) had just moved into the upstairs apartment and that she had discovered that he had been using his new-found freedom of living at Grandma’s place to party and smoke weed. Jimmy’s abuse of his grandma’s kindness infuriated me, and I determined that I would pay him an immediate visit to set him straight on behalf of his grief-stricken grandmother.

As I approached the door of Jimmy’s apartment, a small bird dove violently at my head. I ducked behind a car until I thought it was safe, but my second attempt was met with an even more vicious response from my feathered attacker. In my third attempt to rise from my place of safety, the ensuing attack was such that I fled for my life, still determined to return and give Jimmy a piece of my mind when the coast was clear.

I returned to my apartment to begin my studies for the day with a little time in the scriptures. I opened to Alma 17 and read of Ammon winning the heart of King Lamoni by offering to become his servant.[9] I felt humbled and moved to abandon my initial anger and to return to Jimmy in the spirit of friendship.

I did so (this time without a bird attack), and when he answered the door, I welcomed Jimmy to our apartments and asked him what he liked to do. It turned out that we both loved doubles volleyball, and we set a regular time to play.

Over time, all of us roommates befriended Jimmy. We had a lot of fun and some precious conversations and Jimmy eventually served a mission and went on to become a great husband, father, and leader. I’ve often been grateful that a little bird gave me the opportunity to pause and think about what might actually nurture and lift Jimmy.

The next event I would like to tell you about is my mission. I got called to serve in Toronto, Canada. I had several amazing spiritual experiences where I knew that God knew me. I would like to share two of those experiences with you.

The first happened about a year or so into my mission. My companion and I were tracting on a very hot and humid summer day. We saw a man who was out in his yard working so we wondered over to say hi and introduce ourselves. He invited us in and gave us a cold drink of water. We asked if we could share a message about Jesus Christ with him. He went and got his wife and teenage daughter. We shared our message and could immediately tell that there was some interest. We asked if we could come back and we set up another appointment.

We had a great experience teaching Malcom, Barbara and Debbie. We came back each week and eventually taught them all of the discussions. This took a few months. Finally, we challenged them to be baptized. This was a difficult decision because they had belonged to another church. However, they made the commitment and were baptized. I got transferred to another area shortly after they were baptized. I kept track of them for a while. I knew that Debbie their daughter had latched on to the Ward Young Adult Program and made many friends. I was so excited to hear their progress.

I kept in touch with the family for a few years after my mission but ended up not hearing anything for over 30 years. Then, one day I received a message on Facebook. The message said, “Hi Elder Millerberg, this is Debbie Bliss do you remember me? You and your companion baptized me over 30 years ago. I have remained active in the church and during a young adult trip to the Washington D.C. Temple I found my husband. I have a beautiful family and love the gospel. I want to thank you and your companion for bringing me such a wonderful and eternal gift. YOU WERE MY MISSIONARY!”

In 1966, I joined the Church at the age of 14 while living as a resident of Siksika Nation, an Indian reservation in Alberta, Canada. In the fall of that year, three of my siblings and I went on a placement program sponsored by the Church to assist young First Nations members of the Church to become rooted in the gospel. I was placed in the home of John and Marguerite Webb in Vermilion, Alberta. They were wonderful. They treated me like one of their own. I lived with them for five years, and they taught me the gospel of Jesus Christ and instilled in me a love for it.

Flora first saw “T,” as she affectionately calls her husband, when she was attending Utah State Agricultural College (now Utah State University) in Logan. He was standing on the corner with his cousin, one of her friends, as she drove by in her car and waved pleasantly. “T” was visiting the campus, taking college courses by home study until he could afford to attend school full-time.
“Who is that girl?” he asked.
“Why, that’s Flora Amussen,” his cousin replied.
“When I come here to school, I’m going to date her.”
“You’ll never make it; she’s too popular for you.” “That makes it all the more interesting,” the future prophet answered. He already knew she was the girl he was going to marry.
But the farm boy from Idaho found rigorous competition for Miss Amussen’s time. During her college years, she was vice-president of the Utah State Agricultural College student body and president of the girls’ athletic club. She also won the girls’ singles tennis championship, was elected to the honorary dramatic fraternity for Shakespearean acting, and was in constant demand for her natural ability to play almost every musical instrument—without having to read music.
President Benson recalls arriving for his first date with the “most popular girl in town.” Through the graciousness of Flora and her “queenly mother,” the farm boy was soon at ease in the large home of culture and refinement.
“As we left the house and she kissed her mother tenderly, I knew I was the escort of a choice girl, and I determined to make the best of it,” he remarks.
“Nothing in Flora’s life impressed me more deeply than her reverent kindness to and deep love for her mother,” continues President Benson. “Their companionship was an inspiration—the sweetest relationship I have ever known between a parent and child.”
Likewise was Flora impressed with this courteous, good-looking, deeply spiritual young man. “I wanted to marry a farmer and learn how to work and cook and sew,” she says, adding emphatically, “and I learned!”

The second example comes from a Book of Mormon student of mine who wrote:
Nephi’s words testify of the divinity of Christ in clear and concise terms. I have witnessed in my own life and those who I taught on my mission how Nephi’s words have softened our hearts and filled our minds with light. Before my mission I began to read the Book of Mormon for the first time. I was undecided whether to serve a mission or not. Almost imperceptibly I felt anxious and a great desire to serve a mission. Where once only doubt and confusion which led to sin filled my life, a new sense of peace and wanting to fulfill the commandments entered into my mind and heart. I still had questions but I also had a peace that urged me forward to preach the gospel.