Gospel Story Finder

Now my wife and I are in the service of the Lord and have been assigned to labor in the islands of the Philippines, Micronesia, and Guam. We are only one month old in our service and our lives have been completely turned around. We went from winter to summer in just twelve hours, and from New Zealand lamb to a delightful fish called lapu lapu. We met a typically slender, dark-haired Filipino stake president who quietly responded, “I am the same age as you, Elder Martin.”
Soon after our arrival in the Philippines, we left for our first stake conference some one hundred kilometers north. Along the way, we saw the evidence of poverty among so many of those lovely people. This also was a new experience, and our hearts were heavy as we drove. We checked in at a small hotel in a distant town and soon discovered that it lacked many of the facilities we considered normal and were used to. Then suddenly, as we entered the immaculate chapel grounds, our spirits lifted. We were greeted by sunny, smiling faces and outstretched hands, spotless dresses and shirts of dazzling white. We were not strangers or foreigners, but fellowcitizens with these Saints and of the household of God. Soon to follow was my most unforgettable Philippine experience thus far.
As we moved along the line exchanging handshakes and greetings, one slight young woman shyly extended her arm. As I took it, I realized that she had no hand on it or on her other arm. We exchanged smiles and moved along.
I next encountered this young sister after she and her husband were invited to speak as a young couple married within the last eighteen months in the Manila Temple. When she arose to speak, I noticed that in addition to being born without hands, this young woman had an artificial leg. As first she and then her husband spoke, there unfolded a most remarkable story about their lives.
The stake president was her father. Despite what to others may have been a handicap, but what to her must have been only a difficulty, this young sister had completed a full-term proselyting mission. She described in beautiful terms her feelings about going to the Manila Temple to be married. Hers was a talk of such maturity in gospel understanding and humility that it would have been difficult to equal anywhere in the Church. Then her husband stood and told of how he had written to his girlfriend after being in the mission field two months and later toward the end, of how he wanted to marry her in the Manila Temple when he returned home. There were no second thoughts, no change of heart when far removed, but instead, a growing understanding of the meaning and blessing of temple marriage for them both.
As they proudly showed us their baby after conference, and when we considered the splendid achievements of this young husband and wife, we recalled the Savior’s words, “Blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it” (Luke 11:28).
Since then, we have been to different places in the Philippines. Everywhere we meet missionary couples, a number of whom are older than ourselves. The Johnsons, a couple from Fremont, California, labor in distant Vigan. They have been in the Church only a handful of years since their baptism. In Vigan, the carabao, or water buffalo, and motor tricycles are almost the only mode of transport. The Johnsons have a beautiful attitude.
Whenever I meet and talk with missionary couples, I am filled with love and respect for their humility and desire to help the Filipino Saints. They regard their missions as one of the great opportunities to serve the Master in their lives. They always ask, “How many grandchildren have you?” Our response of eight is quickly overshadowed with “We have sixteen,” or “twenty-three,” or maybe “twenty-seven,” and almost always with “And there are two we haven’t seen yet.” They miss their family and grandchildren, but don’t complain. Instead, they look forward to that great homecoming reunion. Meanwhile, they are given all the love they can absorb from devoted Filipino Saints.
Like us, all these missionary couples are finding new purpose and fulfillment in their lives. Section 4 of the Doctrine and Covenants is taking on new meaning.
“Therefore, if ye have desires to serve God ye are called to the work;
“For behold the field is white already to harvest; and lo, he that thrusteth in his sickle with his might, the same layeth up in store that he perisheth not, but bringeth salvation to his soul” (vs. 3–4).
I pray that couples whose families are grown may indeed listen to and obey the Spirit that prompts the call to prepare and serve the Lord in the mission field. I know that this is the Lord’s church, that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, and that President Benson is God’s prophet on earth today. I am grateful to be a member of the Church and for all the blessings it has brought into my life and the lives of my family. In the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I had an experience with my four-year-old son recently that taught me a tremendous amount about faith.
It was later than I had planned bedtime to be. We were very close to getting into bed with our bedtime routine done, when my son turned to me and said, “My Lego piece is missing.”
I hurriedly answered that we would find it in the morning. He would not be deterred. “Mama, I need it, or I can’t go to sleep.”
I sighed deeply and barked, “Where did you last have it?”
“Right here,” he answered, pointing to his bedside. “It must have fallen on the floor.”
The floor was covered in books, toys, and other debris from an evening of playing that I hadn’t had time to tidy away. It was hopeless to try and find one little piece of Lego. Again, I said we would find it in the morning. My son turned to me and, with determination etched into his little face, said, “If we pray to Jesus, we will find it!” I was taken aback by his powerful declaration but impressed at the same time.
My four-year-old had more presence of mind than I had as he knew, not hoped but knew, that if he prayed, Jesus would help him find it. So, he prayed to Jesus to find his piece. Despite the prayer of an innocent and precious child of God, I still doubted. I searched for a moment then, humbled by his faith and ashamed of the lack of my own, said my own silent prayer that my Father in Heaven would help me. This moment would be a precious faith-builder in my son’s life that he could look back on, and I could not fail.
A few moments passed, and just as my search seemed hopeless, I lifted a book, and there was the piece underneath. A wave of relief and gratitude filled my heart. My little boy turned to me and said, his face beaming with pride, “See, I told you!” I was humbled by my precious son and his amazing faith.

One final story: William Tyndale, who translated the Bible into the language of the common person--English--in the sixteenth century--and was martyred for it--stated to a cleric who opposed his efforts: "If God spare my life, ere many years I will cause a boy that driveth the plough, shall know more of the Scripture than thou dost!"[43] In a parallel some three hundred years later, Nancy Towle, a famous itinerant preacher in the 1830s, visited Kirtland. While there, she sharply criticized the Church. The emotional Sidney Rigdon responded in kind, and accused her of being "in the gall of bitterness, and the bond of iniquity!" According to Towle's record, Joseph said nothing during this heated exchange until she turned to him and demanded that he swear to her that he had seen an angel. Ever gregarious, Joseph good-naturedly replied to her that "he never swore at all." Having failed to rattle him, she tried to belittle him: "Are you not ashamed, of such pretenses?" she rejoined. "You, who are no more, than an ignorant, plough-boy of our land?" Joseph calmly responded: "the gift has returned back again, as in former times, to illiterate fishermen."[44]
Joseph compared himself to an "illiterate fisherman." In this, Tyndale's words were prescient: certainly a plough-boy did grow to know more of scripture than that cleric, and probably more than any man that ever lived, save the Savior only.

Brother Stewart’s desire to help his priests avoid similar situations was greeted enthusiastically by the quorum. His approach included a quiz on the young men’s existing knowledge of etiquette, with a discussion afterward, and a formal dinner for the priests and Laurels. The class exercise was well received, and the dinner turned out to be one of the best-attended activities of the year. “I thought the dinner would be fun but that I wouldn’t really learn anything new,” admitted Buster Child, first assistant to the president of the priests quorum. “But I was wrong. I really have learned a lot.”
Printed invitations were sent to each of the priests and Laurels in the ward, and the priests were assigned to escort the Laurels. As a result, shortly before 7:30 on a calm, clear, spring night, the Stewart sidewalk began filling up with beautiful young women in long, colorful dresses and handsome priests in coats and ties. Inside, several tables had been covered with fine cloths and set with china, silver, and goblets. Placecards indicated where each guest was to sit, and the tantalizing aroma of baked ham and scalloped potatoes floated into the dining room from the adjoining kitchen.
The young people spent the first part of the evening mingling, talking, and eating hors d’oeuvres of sausage-filled mushrooms and chips with dips. Such whispered comments as “I ate before I came so I wouldn’t stuff myself when I got here” and “Is it all right to pick up a mushroom with my fingers?” could be heard amidst talk of school, ward activities, and the approaching summer vacation.
Soon, however, it was time for dinner to begin. After a short welcome and a blessing on the food, Brother Stewart encouraged his guests to feel comfortable and to ask as many questions as they wanted. And they did. Throughout the evening the room buzzed with questions. “How do I butter my roll?” asked one, and from someone else, “Do I pass the food to my left or to my right?” Brother Stewart also brought up some points for discussion. Some of the answers were obvious: “Should you leave some food on your spoon or fork to be waved about during conversation?” brought spontaneous laughter from the group. But the answer to another question, “Is it considered proper to butter a whole ear of corn at once?” (the answer is no; butter and eat only a few rows at a time) was greeted with disbelief, and the consensus was that perhaps this is one area that should be left up to personal taste.
When the evening was over, however, the group generally agreed that understanding etiquette and practicing good manners are just as important today as ever before. “Once you learn the basics, you can relax and enjoy yourself without wondering if you are going to make a big mistake,” said Mike Bonnelli. And Sharon Matsen added, “It’s being courteous, but it’s more than that, too. It’s a way of showing others you want them to feel comfortable. For example, I really like my date to open the car door for me. Even though it might be considered a little thing, it makes me feel that he thinks I’m someone special.”

Natasha VimahiThere is a young woman, named Tasha, in our community who is fighting a losing battle to breast cancer. For the past few months as her pain steadily became more frequent and more intense and the doctors verbalized a time frame of the inevitable, her friends have rallied together to make the most of Tasha's days. They vowed to make her bad days better and to make her good days terrific. Here's just a few of the things they have done in the last few months to help her "endure it well":
When Tasha surprised everyone with the comment she was hungry and wanted some food from Kua Aina Burger, her friends gently packed her into the van and made an adventure of the trip up to Haleiwa with a few stops and spontaneous entertainment on the way.
When she had a craving for food at Hukilau Café, they all went there too.They visit her often with massages and pedicures.Sundays are spent with her talking, laughing and propping her pillows to make her comfortable in any way.For Halloween, they held a pink costume party.Tasha's cheerleaders often take their children to sing to Aunty Tasha as a distraction from her pain.Even when the Seasider basketball teams went up to San Francisco to play earlier this year, these crazy friends turned it into a "We Love Tasha" Day.
When you have crazy and fun friends like Tasha has, who needs morphine to dull their pain? Morphine is for enduring, BFF's are for enduring it well.

Elder James E. Talmage, a man who is remembered for his doctrinal teachings, showed great kindness to a neighbor family in distress. They were complete strangers to him. Before he was an Apostle, as a young father he became aware of great suffering at a neighbor’s home whose large family was stricken with the dreaded diphtheria. He did not care that they were not members of the Church; his kindness and charity moved him to act. The Relief Society was desperately trying to find people to help, but no one would because of the contagious nature of the disease.
When he arrived, James found one toddler already dead and two others who were in agony from the disease. He immediately went to work, cleaning the untidy house, preparing the young body for burial, cleaning and providing for the other sick children—spending the entire day doing so. He came back the next morning to find that one more of the children had died during the night. A third child was still suffering terribly. He wrote in his journal: “She clung to my neck, … ofttimes coughing [germs] on my face and clothing, … yet I could not put her from me. During the half hour immediately preceding her death, I walked the floor with the little creature in my arms. She died in agony at 10 a.m.” The three children had all departed within the space of 24 hours. He then assisted the family with the burial arrangements and spoke at the graveside services. This he did all for a family of strangers. What a great example of Christlike kindness!

In 1975 Janelle Griffin was a sophomore at Woods Cross High School in Bountiful, Utah. An assigned paper on the population explosion started a chain of events that eventually led to a sound filmstrip called “Very Much Alive.”

Janelle and her father, Dr. Glen Griffin, now members of the Val Verda 10th Ward (Bountiful Utah Val Verda Stake), went through the family photos and selected some good slides. These were matched with an anti-abortion story-script that Janelle and her father wrote. The resulting slide presentation, emphasizing the sanctity of human life, was used in the Career Day event at school by Dr. Griffin, a nationally-known pediatrician and author.

The slide presentation was enthusiastically applauded by students and teachers. Refinements and revisions followed. A sound track was recorded on cassette tape. Some who saw the presentation suggested that every LDS youth should see “Very Much Alive.”

After they had seen it, the Presiding Bishopric agreed. Many revisions and refinements followed, and then followed distribution in 17 languages to all the Church. As word got around, copies were purchased by other churches and by anti-abortion groups.

Now another edition of “Very Much Alive” has been prepared. Entitled “Very Much Alive—Worldwide Edition,” this filmstrip contains no mention of religion and is being used in many schools as part of their approved curriculum libraries.

Countless lives have been touched and others will yet be touched for good because of a filmstrip that had its beginning in a homework assignment to a Latter-day Saint girl in Bountiful.

Babies’ lives have been spared. Unwed parents have been influenced to make wise choices. Adoptive parents have rejoiced to have infants placed in their homes.

In Ghana the field was also already to harvest, due mainly to another Elias, Joseph William Billy Johnson, a preacher who obtained a Book of Mormon in 1964. He said:

As I read the Book of Mormon I became convinced that it was really the word of God, and sometimes while reading I would burst into tears. I felt the Spirit as I read. . . .
I have a strong testimony [of] the Book of Mormon. It is a very powerful book! [Interview with Joseph William Billy Johnson by E. Dale LeBaron in Cape Coast, Ghana, 23 May 1988]

Brother Johnson also knew that the Lord called him to be an Elias. He said:

One early morning . . . I saw the heavens open and angels with trumpets singing songs of praise unto God. . . . In the course of this I heard my name mentioned thrice, “Johnson, Johnson, Johnson. If you will take up my work as I will command you, I will bless you and bless your land.” Trembling and in tears I replied, “Lord, with thy help I will do whatsoever you will command me.”

From that day onward, I was constrained by that Spirit to go from street to street . . . to deliver the message which we had read from the Book of Mormon. . . . I did exactly as the Lord commanded me . . . and immediately our persecutions started. [Johnson interview; also a letter from Brother Johnson to the First Presidency, 9 September 1978, and a handwritten document on the history of the Church in Ghana. These are on file with the author. See also E. Dale LeBaron, “All Are Alike unto God” (Orem, Utah: Granite Publishing, 1998), pp. 16–17]

Brother Johnson also reported that at a time of great trial early in his ministry, his deceased brother appeared to him in a dream and said:

“Don’t worry. . . you have chosen the only true church on earth . . . and I am now investigating your church.” I was surprised. I never knew that the Church extended to another world. It was my brother who brought that knowledge to me. He said that if I didn’t believe him, he would sing a song from my church, and he sang “Come, Come, Ye Saints.” That was the first time I had heard that hymn. He said, “Don’t leave the church, my brother. . . . Please see that I am baptized.”

Brother Johnson then noted:

It was my brother who enlightened me about baptism for the dead and brought it to my knowledge. . . . Most of my relatives appeared to me in dreams [saying,]“Reverend Johnson, do you know you have a work to do for us? Our great grandsons and daughters will be in your church soon. See that we are baptized.” . . . I learned these doctrines before the missionaries arrived. Nothing they taught us seemed strange. They simply confirmed what we had heard. . . . Each time the Lord addressed us in dreams, He addressed us as Latter-day Saints, even though we had not yet become members. [Johnson interview; see also LeBaron, “All Are Alike,” pp. 19–20]

Brother Johnson felt very close to the prophets Joseph Smith and Brigham Young, who reportedly also appeared to him in visions and dreams to strengthen him. A son was born during these trying times, and he is probably the only young man in Ghana today named Brigham.

For 14 years Brother Johnson helped organize 10 congregations. To strengthen his people against trials and persecution, he focused on the early history of the Church. He said:

We felt the spirit of the pioneers. . . . We gained our strength from the pioneers. We were inspired by their works. . . . I would see tears falling from the eyes of my members, especially when we sang, “Come, Come, Ye Saints.” That hymn is wonderful. It is my favorite hymn in the Church. [Johnson interview; see also LeBaron, “All Are Alike,” p. 19]

One night at midnight, after many lonely years of struggle, Brother Johnson heard a shortwave news broadcast from England in which he heard President Kimball’s announcement that all worthy males could receive the priesthood. He burst into tears of joy, knowing that the Church would now come to Africa.

Following Brother Johnson’s baptism he served as Ghana’s first branch president, after which he served several missions. Twelve years after his baptism he was ordained a patriarch, when Elders Boyd K. Packer and James E. Faust created the first two stakes in Ghana. Last February President Hinckley announced the first temple in black Africa to be built in Accra, Ghana, where Brother Johnson first preached. Soon he and tens of thousands of others can receive temple ordinances and perform them for their kindred dead.

In 1976 Elder Robert C. Oaks, then a colonel in the United States Air Force, was a member of the Incidents at Sea negotiating team. They were guests at a dinner hosted by the Leningrad Naval District. About 50 senior officers of the Soviet Union and the United States were present as the host led the group in toasts before dinner. They stood for the first toast and raised their glasses, most of which were filled with Russian vodka. Brother Oaks had pink lemonade in his glass, which was immediately noticed by the admiral leading the toast. He stopped and demanded that Brother Oaks fill his glass with vodka, stating that he would not proceed until he had done so. Brother Oaks declined, explaining that he was happy with what he had in his glass.

A significant tension began to build, and even his own team members, most of whom were senior to him, were growing uneasy over the impasse. Brother Oaks’s Soviet escort hissed in his ear, “Fill your glass with vodka!” Brother Oaks uttered the shortest prayer of his life: “God, help me!”

Within seconds, the Soviet interpreter, an army captain with whom he had previously discussed religion, whispered to the host admiral, “It is because of his religion.” The admiral nodded his head, the tension immediately diffused, and the program moved on.

Elder Oaks had decided years before that he would never drink alcohol, and so in the moment of trial he did not have to make this choice again. Elder Oaks was convinced that more harm would have come to him if he had compromised a tenet of his faith than the harm that would have come from drinking the vodka. Incidentally, adhering to his religious principles did not hurt his career. After this incident he went on to become a four-star general.

When our family was living in France and our children were young, we made it a practice to invite friends and neighbors—most of them not of our faith—to attend their baptisms. We hoped these occasions would help them become more familiar with our Church.

At the end of one of these services, a friend approached me and shared her impressions. “What touched me the most,” she said, “was the young woman in your family who offered the opening prayer. She spoke to God so naturally—as if she knew Him. All my life, I have prayed through proxies, but I never felt comfortable enough to talk to God directly. He felt distant—even frightening at times. Oh, how I wish I could pray like this young woman!”

How grateful we are to know that God knows us personally, that He loves us, and that we can speak with Him directly. He is not distant. He is aware of us, and He cares—even about the smallest details of our lives.

On the week that Elder Perry passed away, he attended our meeting on Tuesday. On Tuesday night, as recorded by his son, Lee, he had a spiritual experience that let him know his time was soon.1

With Elder Russell M. Nelson on assignment in eastern Europe, Elder Perry, on Wednesday morning, called Elder Oaks and Elder Ballard to his apartment. He told them his time was short and that he would not be coming back into the office. He recorded a six-minute message for the Quorum of the Twelve, telling us he loved us, encouraging us in the work ahead, and bearing his sure witness of the Savior. We were sobered as that recording was played for us Thursday morning in the temple.

The First Presidency went Thursday afternoon to say their good-byes to their dear friend. Elder Nelson called Elder Perry from Bulgaria Thursday evening. On Friday morning President Packer rose from his feeble ­condition and traveled to Elder Perry’s apartment to say good-bye. They reflected on their many years together. President Packer reminded him that Elder Perry had always said that he wanted to go through the veil at least one day before President Packer. They rejoiced that they would soon see each other on the other side.

On Friday afternoon, just after 4:00 p.m., Kathy and I had the chance to visit with Elder and Sister Perry. Elder Perry was sitting in a comfortable chair, weak but conversant. He asked us, as he did all the members of the Twelve, to watch over and care for his dear Barbara. He expressed his love for us and we expressed our love for him. I told him that in a few years, as I followed him out of this earthly experience, I hoped he would be there to greet me. He promised that, if given permission, he would. He told us he would do all that he could to bless our work from the other side of the veil.

Less than twenty-four hours later he stepped through the veil. Thirty-four days later President Packer followed him. I, with you, revere these two disciples of Christ. I confirm to you that they were honest men, holy men—devoted to the callings that they had received and full of the pure love of Christ. I testify that we will yet see them again.

An ominous darkness hangs over Metropolis. Thousands of men and women plod along its busy streets, little suspecting that something important is missing from their lives. Suddenly a young man in a vermillion cape springs from a telephone booth. It’s Captain M, the member-missionary marvel, to the rescue!
His muscles of steel rippling, he shouts the Golden Questions as he hurls ten men through the air to his secret fortress where the missionaries are waiting. At super speed he spins a family off to a visitors’ center. He wows a whole crowd at a bus stop with a catchy lead-in about family home evenings. He leaps aboard a subway and converts everybody except one small boy who is asleep.
His cape flying like a banner behind him, he then whirls away through the city, accosting total strangers and committing them to learn more. That evening all the residents of the city, now members of the Church, gather to pin a hero’s medal on his broad chest.

Allen C. Ostergar, administrative director, comments, “We have many visitors come here, most of whom are not even members of the Church. They want to see how we do it. They see missionaries out in the world, and they’re impressed. They want to see how we train these outstanding young men and women. We’ve had many people from universities all over the world. We’ve had government officials from state departments, from the United States government, from many other governments. We’ve had people from other churches. We’ve had people from the Vatican. We’ve had people from the Church of the Nazarene. We’ve had Baptists and Methodists. We’ve had military personnel here to see how we train in languages. Once a group of five high-ranking military officers from the Pentagon visited us. They were responsible for the language training of military units in the United States. They spent two days visiting classes, talking to missionaries, reviewing our materials. At the end of the time they said, ‘We’d like to contract with you to train our people here.’

“We told them that wouldn’t work, of course, and then they asked us a lot of questions. First of all they asked the same question that everybody who comes here asks. ‘How do you do it? What is it about these young people that makes them do what they do? We don’t understand it.’ And then thoughts like ‘testimony,’ ‘righteousness,’ ‘the Spirit of the Lord’ go though your mind—things some of these people don’t understand very well. Those are the things that make all the difference.

“We have a beautiful facility. We have a great training system. And then you add to this the great spirit of missionary work and the Spirit of the Lord, and there’s no way a missionary can fail if he’ll do his part.”

Marcus sat on the couch and watched cartoons. Mom picked up the toys and clothes he and his little sister, Julie, had left on the floor.
But it was hard for Marcus to hear the TV because Julie was crying.
Mom, can you make Julie be quiet? I’m trying to watch cartoons!
Marcus, it’s time for Julie’s nap. I want you to turn off the TV and do something else.
Marcus didn’t want to turn off the TV, but he did. He looked for something else to do. He saw his crayons, but he didn’t want to color.
He found a soccer ball, but he didn’t have anybody to play with. He picked up a toy, but its batteries weren’t working. He walked to Mom’s bedroom to ask for some new batteries.
When Marcus got to the bedroom, he saw Julie asleep in her crib. Mom was asleep on the bed next to some folded towels and a basket of socks.
Mom’s tired.
Instead of waking her up, Marcus decided to help her.
In the kitchen, he began putting the clean dishes in the cabinets, just like Mom always did—only a little louder.
After a couple of minutes, Mom walked into the kitchen. Marcus was sitting on the counter, trying to put away the plastic cups.
Marcus! What are you doing?
Surprise! I wanted let you rest.
Thank you, Marcus. I was very tired.
Mom gave Marcus a big hug and a kiss. As much as Marcus loved to watch cartoons, doing something to make Mom happy made him feel even better.

This story happened in the USA.
Kat rubbed her prosthetic arm nervously as Mom drove down the dirt road. “Mom, I’m scared.”
Mom gave her a soft smile. “I know. But I think you will like summer camp, honey. Think of all the new kids you will meet.”
Kat said nothing, but inside she thought, That’s what I’m afraid of.
Soon they arrived at the day camp. Mom went with Kat to talk to her camp counselor, Brian. “Kat had her arm amputated as a baby,” Mom told him. “It won’t affect how she plays, but sometimes it makes meeting new people a little hard.”
“Don’t worry, Kat,” said Brian. “We’re all happy to have you here.”
Kat had fun meeting the kids in her group. They named themselves the Purple Tigers. They went on a hike, ate cheese and crackers, and had foot races. Kat was one of the fastest in the group.
At the end of the day, Brian announced that they would compete against another group in a sack race. Kat hoped the Purple Tigers would win!
When it was her turn, Kat pulled the sack around her knees and began to jump. But the sack was hard to hold up with one hand, and she tripped over the heavy fabric. Kat fell and rolled onto the grass. By the time she got back up, the other team had finished the race. Kat’s team had lost.
That night at dinner, Kat told her parents about the sack-race disaster. “I don’t want to go back to camp,” she said. “The team lost because of me. They won’t want me to come back.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Mom gave Kat a hug. “I’m sure your new friends still love you. And you know who will always love you no matter what?”
“You will.” Kat smiled a little.
“Yes. We love you! And so does your Heavenly Father. You’re His child too, remember?”
“It sounds like you had fun before the sack race,” said Dad. “Why don’t you give camp one more try?”
Kat nodded. “OK.”
Dad smiled. “Try to notice when people are kind to you. And look for ways to be kind to others. That always helps me when I’m having a hard time.”
The next day at camp, the kids from Kat’s group greeted her with high-fives and hugs. No one mentioned the sack race, and Kat forgot how worried she had been. She told jokes with her new friends while they waited for the activities to start.
Then Counselor Brian walked over to the group. Next to him was a boy Kat’s age. “Attention, Purple Tigers,” said Brian, “we have a new friend today. His name is Rodrigo. Rodrigo only speaks Spanish, so we are trying to find a counselor who speaks Spanish to help him.”
Kat was learning Spanish at her school, but she only knew a little. She was too scared to try to talk to Rodrigo.
Then she looked at him. He looked scared too. Not speaking the same language as the other kids must be hard, she thought. She knew how it felt to be different.
Kat remembered how all her new friends had welcomed her to the group. They made her feel loved, just like Jesus would. She wanted to do that for Rodrigo too.
Kat remembered how to say “hello” in Spanish. So she took a deep breath and walked up to Rodrigo. “Hola,” she said with a smile.
Rodrigo’s worried look went away, and he smiled back. Kat held out her prosthetic hand.
“¿Amigos?” she asked. Friends?
Rodrigo’s smile got bigger. He took her hand and shook it. “Amigos.”
How did Kat follow Jesus?
Illustration by Flavia Drago

Dan nervously checked his appearance in the hall mirror and then knocked on the door of Elizabeth’s dorm apartment.
Inside the apartment, Elizabeth finished with her hair, stepped back to examine the effect, and told her roommate, “Well, it’ll just have to do, won’t it, because that’s Dan now. Will you get the door? Tell him I’ll be ready in a minute.”
A short time later, her roommate came back. “Wow! Where did you find him?”
“We are both on a stake Young Adult committee.”
“And you think he likes you?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth smiled, “I think he does.”__________
“I hope I’m not too late,” Elizabeth said as she greeted Dan in the dorm living room.
“The way you look tonight,” Dan said, standing up to greet her, “I’d wait a long time just to catch a glimpse.” They walked to his car. “Have you ever heard of a restaurant called L’Epicure?”
“No.”
“It’s several miles from here, but it’s nice. French cuisine. I’m afraid I picked up the taste for European cooking on my mission. Are you interested?”
“It sounds fun,” she answered. “It also sounds like you’re a connoisseur of good food.”__________
As they drove to the restaurant, Dan turned on the radio for a minute to hear the score of the university football game. “Do you like football?” he asked.
“A little. I used to know a boy in high school who played. Were you on the football team in high school?”
“Yes,” he smiled, “for two days.”__________
“Did you go steady with your friend who played football?” Dan asked Elizabeth.
“No. At one time he said he was interested in me, but we never got along very well.”__________
“But my cousin says that you are a good athlete,” Elizabeth said to Dan.
“I play racquetball. I’ve been state champion three times. Since I wasn’t cut out to be a football player, I substituted racquetball.”
As he opened the car door for her outside the restaurant, she gave him a broad smile.__________
“Elizabeth, you have the most beautiful smile.”
The hostess showed Dan and Elizabeth to a table. Dan helped her be seated.__________
“Elizabeth, what would you like?”
“Everything looks good. Any suggestions?”
“May I suggest,” he said with a flourish, “La Suprême de Chapon Montmorency?”__________
“Elizabeth, what are you majoring in?”
Dan asked. “Computer science.”
“How did you ever decide on that?”
“To tell you the truth, I can’t remember. I know that I liked math in high school.”__________
“And what are you majoring in?” Elizabeth asked Dan.
“Business.”__________
“You’re from Minnesota?” Dan asked over salad. “Is that where you went to high school?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Just outside Minneapolis.”
“The great carefree happy days of high school,” Dan said with a laugh. “Was it that way for you?”
“No, often it was painful.”__________
They talked about high school over dessert.
“I never did feel very comfortable around girls,” Dan confided.
“And I was busy with my classes and other activities,” Elizabeth recalled, “but socially it was like I was watching my friends make bad choices. Eventually their choices caught up with them.”__________
“Did your friends in high school learn from their bad choices?” Dan asked Elizabeth.
“I’m afraid not.”__________
Dan paid the check and took Elizabeth’s arm as they left the restaurant. “Lisa, we can go to the movies like we planned, but there’s something else I’d rather do.”
“What’s that?”
“Take me to your computer,” he said with a metallic ring to his voice.
The remote computer terminal on campus looked more like a typewriter than a computer. Dan sat beside her as she turned it on.
“How do you address a computer?” he asked. “Hi, big fella?”
“That would work if it were programmed for that. For this one, a simple combination of numbers and letters will do.”
“Sounds sinister,” he said.
As she enthusiastically tried to teach him some computer games, he found himself just smiling, nodding his head, delighting in watching the features of her face.
“You really like this, don’t you?” he asked as they left the building.
“I really do. And your male ego isn’t threatened by a girl who enjoys computers?”
“No. Someday when I have a chain of stores all over the West, maybe I can get you to show me how to use a computer in business.”
“It’s a deal,” she answered. “Now, sir, it’s my turn. I want to learn how to play racquetball.”
“Now? The way we’re dressed?”
“Just show me where you play and explain the rules. Okay?”
Finding an empty court, they took off their shoes and entered the room. He explained the rules and strategy to her.
“Okay? I’ll serve.” Standing between the two painted lines in the room, he served an imaginary ball. In graceful slow motion, she returned his serve.
“Where’d it go?” he asked.
“It bounced off the wall an inch from the floor.”
“Wow!” he laughed. “Nice return.”
They played with the imaginary ball until they both collapsed side by side in laughter.
“Elizabeth, you know what?” Dan said while they were still sitting on the floor. “I feel terrific, just being with you. Everything is so natural. I don’t have to prove anything with you. I feel that I could tell you anything about my hopes and dreams, and even some of the dumb things I do, and you wouldn’t reject me.”
“I know. I feel the same way.”
“Let me tell you some deep secrets,” he said with a grin. “I love apples, and I use the ash tray of my car to store my apple cores.”
“I can take that,” she smiled. “Here’s one for you. About once a year I buy a can of pitted black olives, go in my room, put an olive on each finger, and pop them one by one in my mouth.”
“Here’s one,” he said. “Once I was asked not to sing in a youth conference chorus. You know, they always say we don’t care whether or not you can sing. Well, I volunteered and was told to just move my lips.”
“I know how to change the oil in a car,” she confessed.
“One of the most successful elders in our mission was Elder Reed. Once at a zone conference I got a chance to meet him. I really was excited. I walked up to him, stuck out my hand, and said, ‘Hi there, I’m Elder Reed.’ He looked at me strangely. I realized my mistake and then said, ‘No, wait. You’re Elder Reed.’ He looked at me like I was crazy and walked away.”
“I love to waltz,” she said.
“Teach me. Now.”
“Here?” she said, looking around at the empty racquetball court.
They waltzed in stocking feet to her songs and his regimental one, two, three, one, two, three.
On the way out, they decided to walk through the tunnel connecting the two buildings used for athletics.
“Have you ever heard the legend of this tunnel?” he kidded as they walked down the long hall.
“When a couple who are going to become very good friends walks down this hall, legend says they hear an echo.”
“Really?” she giggled.
“Dan and Elizabeth are falling in like!” he yelled. An echo returned his voice. “See that?” he asked. “It’s the legend of the tunnel.”
“Falling in like?” she asked.
“Sure, it’s one step before falling in love.”
They ambled down the long hall, holding hands, talking happily, the echoes of their voices, and their past, returning again and again back to them.

Walter C., 15, Jaén, Peru
For a long time I was the only member in my school. My closest friends seemed to understand me, but other school friends made fun of me. One day I prayed and felt the need to talk with one of them who encouraged the others to make fun of me. I explained that I didn’t feel angry at him, but I asked him to give me the respect he’d like to have. After hearing our conversation, one of my teachers always defended me when he saw something happen. I know that the Lord will be with you as you talk with these people.

When I started meeting with the missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, they used a spectacular way to motivate me to read the Book of Mormon. Whenever I had a question, they opened it and read the answer from it. I wondered what kind of book it was. Finally they asked me if I wouldn’t like to read the book. I said, “Yes, I would!” They gave me a Book of Mormon as a gift, and I was extremely glad. I read it in three weeks and was very impressed with its teachings. At the end of that time, I was baptized into the Church. I have a great testimony about the influence of the scriptures in the life of a person.

For the last ten years she had been one of the only two people in Rosmont to receive the prize of “Most Beautiful Yard in Rosmont,” which was awarded by the Rosmont Daily Journal. She had received this honor six times, and her arch-rival, Mr. Dunnelly, age 75, had taken it from her only four times.

Mr. Dunnelly, in her estimation, was a nose-in-the-air, know-it-all old man who treated his flowers like disobedient animals instead of the fragile creatures that they were. However, he wouldn’t be in the contest this year because of a stroke he had suffered in the early spring. He couldn’t spend enough time with his plants to give them the proper attention a championship yard needed.

Once about three years ago, they had both met in front of Annie’s Nursery, and in a matter of only a few minutes, they had raised enough commotion to force Annie to call Noble Jones, the town police officer. The next thing the two flower-fighters knew, they were in front of Judge Harold Burgerman. Each one tried to explain how horrible the other one was for using such and such on his flowers, when anyone who knew anything about flowers must realize that this or that was twice as good. Judge Burgerman called them both to repentance, fined them five dollars for disturbing the peace, and they left very indignant and with a mutual disgust for one another and the American judicial system.

Alan looked at his watch. It was 5:00. “Sherry will be getting home from Primary with the kids about now,” Alan thought, wishing a little he had brought the whole family. He was missing Sherry already.
“Todd, I hope you find a wife as wonderful as your mother,” Alan thought.
Alan’s thoughts wandered back to the day before his wedding. He’d spent the day getting traveler’s checks, changing the oil in the car, confirming reservations for the honeymoon. At night he went over to see Sherry. They went outside and walked hand in hand around her parent’s backyard, admiring the flowers and neat rows of vegetables.
“What will it be like to be married to you?” Sherry asked him thoughtfully.
“What’s the matter?” he kidded. “You change your mind?”
“It’s just that I’ve never been married before.”
“Me either,” Alan said.
“And tomorrow night at this time, we’ll … we’ll be married.”
“That’s right. Are you nervous?” Alan asked.
“I guess so. You’ll be my man. What kind of man are you?”
“What kind of man do you want me to be?”
“Oh, like my dad, like the stake president, like the prophet.”
“You mean old?” he asked with a grin.
“Oh, you know,” she said, taking his hand. “I want a priesthood man.”
“What kind of man is that?”
“D&C 121:41–46.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“You’re the returned missionary; look it up. Okay?”
“Okay. Well, I’d better go.” He leaned over and they kissed. “Do you realize,” he whispered in her ear, “that this is the last time I’m ever going to kiss a single girl? It’s an auspicious occasion.”