Gospel Story Finder

Learning the ropes of steer riding as an Aaronic Priesthood MIA activity? Youths of the Spanish Fork and Palmyra (Utah) Stakes herded their horses and enthusiasm into a rodeo that included goat tying, calf roping, barrel races, and wild cow milking.

Originating with the youth committees of the two stakes, the rodeo attracted more than 80 participants. Organizing and planning the event, along with the publicity and selection of advisers, were all projects of the youth committees.

Among the ropers, riders, and milkers interest ran high. Randy Young, who entered the steer riding event, said the rodeo provided “excitement, action, and lots of fun.” At 14 he’s a seven-year veteran of the arena.

Dean Sorenson started three years ago when he was nine and says the best way to learn the basics is from an older brother, a father, or a friend.

Many of the local young people frequently ride in the weekly rodeo at nearby Birdseye, which provides stiff competition and good training, according to Dean.

The enthusiastic young people of the Cleveland First Ward, Huntington Utah Stake treated the senior citizens in their ward to a Red Carpet Honor Night. The Young Men, dressed in suits and ties, first delivered an invitation to each home. Then on the night of the activity, they served as chauffeurs and escorts; they drove to each home, rolled out the red carpet, and escorted their guests to the meetinghouse. There they seated the elderly members of their ward and served them a delicious meal prepared by the Young Women.
After dinner, the senior ward members were seated in a semicircle at the front of the auditorium. They were each given an opportunity to tell how they arrived in the community, what life was like when they were growing up, and how they met their companions. They also answered questions from the audience, offered several good words of advice to the youth, and thanked them for a wonderful evening.

I carried a tray of food, prepared by my mother-in-law, into a cluttered and dusty home. The sole occupant sat where she always sat, on a big armchair positioned so she could see out the window. Her swollen legs were stretched in front of her and her cane, which she used only with great effort, leaned against her arm. She smiled when she saw me, thanked me for the food, and apologetically asked who I was. As I sat next to her and listened to her stories, I was filled with warmth and peace.
Three years later, I was on the floor with my two young children, bouncing them on my legs and singing a racehorse tune. Only a few feet away, my kitchen was in disarray and toys were scattered across the floor. I suddenly felt a reassurance from the Spirit that I was right where I needed to be. Warmth and peace flooded my soul, filling its worn edges and giving energy where there was none.
Another two years forward, I was lying on the bed. A pile of laundry was visible on the floor, and a stack of papers littered the desk to my left as I fed my newborn son for the fourth time that night. I brushed my fingertips against his long lashes, felt his soft bald head, and was thrilled when fingers curled around the lace of my shirt. I was so filled with warmth and peace that I didn’t even mind that I was sometimes awake at three in the morning.
In each of these cases, the Holy Ghost was with me, telling me I was in the right place and doing the right thing, and in each of these cases, I was in a messy home.

We need not worry about knowing the right thing to say or do when we get there. The love of God and the Holy Spirit may be enough. When I was a young man I feared that I would not know what to do or to say to people in great need.

Once I was at the hospital bedside of my father as he seemed near death. I heard a commotion among the nurses in the hallway. Suddenly, President Spencer W. Kimball walked into the room and sat in a chair on the opposite side of the bed from me. I thought to myself, “Now here is my chance to watch and listen to a master at going to those in pain and suffering.”

President Kimball said a few words of greeting, asked my father if he had received a priesthood blessing, and then, when Dad said that he had, the prophet sat back in his chair.

I waited for a demonstration of the comforting skills I felt I lacked and so much needed. After perhaps five minutes of watching the two of them simply smiling silently at each other, I saw President Kimball rise and say, “Henry, I think I’ll go before we tire you.”

I thought I had missed the lesson, but it came later. In a quiet moment with Dad after he recovered enough to go home, our conversation turned to the visit by President Kimball. Dad said quietly, “Of all the visits I had, that visit I had from him lifted my spirits the most.”

President Kimball didn’t speak many words of comfort, at least that I could hear, but he went with the Spirit of the Lord as his companion to give the comfort. I realize now that he was demonstrating the lesson President Monson taught: “How does one magnify a calling? Simply by performing the service that pertains to it.”

President David O. McKay (1873–1970) often related an account that occurred while he was a missionary serving in Scotland. He was feeling homesick after being in the mission for just a short time and spent a few hours sightseeing at nearby Stirling Castle. When he and his companion returned from visiting the castle, they passed a building where the stone above the door had a carved inscription of a quotation, usually attributed to Shakespeare, that read, “What-E’er Thou Art, Act Well Thy Part.”
Recalling this experience, President McKay explained: “I said to myself, or the Spirit within me, ‘You are a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. More than that, you are here as a representative of the Lord Jesus Christ. You accepted the responsibility as a representative of the Church.’ Then I thought [about] what we had done that forenoon. We had been sightseeing; we had gained historical instruction and information, it is true, and I was thrilled with it. … However, that was not missionary work. … I accepted the message given to me on that stone, and from that moment we tried to do our part as missionaries in Scotland.”1
This message was so important and had such an impact on him that President McKay used it as inspiration for the rest of his life. He determined that whatever responsibility he had, he would do his very best.

I felt spiritually numb. I wondered if the Lord still cared about me or if he really loved me. Heavenly Father seemed far away.
I was letting myself feel smothered by my children’s endless requests, by Church responsibilities, and by the absence of my hard-working husband, who was often gone when I seemed to need him most. With all of the demands on my time, I felt unfulfilled and overwhelmed.
But when my visiting teachers arrived for their monthly visit, I put on my usual happy face. I hid the torment I felt inside. We exchanged news of the happenings in our lives. I can’t remember the message they shared that month. I felt invisible as their words glided past me.
As we stood at the door saying our goodbyes, I thought, What a waste of time. They don’t realize how I truly feel inside. And even if they did, would they care?
My body wanted to retreat into sleep, but I mechanically worked through my chores, expecting no other interruptions to break up my daily routine. I was surprised a few hours later when the doorbell rang.
It was Julie, the younger of my two visiting teachers. She stepped inside, took both of my hands in hers, and asked me about a place to pray.
Not quite clear on what she was asking me, I replied, “Julie, why are you here again?”
She said lovingly, “When I returned home today, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. Earlier, during our visit, I saw the anguish in your eyes. After I returned home, whatever I tried to do was interrupted by thoughts of you. Finally I stopped my work and knelt in prayer. I asked, ‘Lord, help me help Ruth.’ It occurred to me that the answer I sought had to do with what I was doing right then: kneeling in prayer before my Heavenly Father.”
I stood in silence through Julie’s explanation. With tears filling her eyes, she affirmed, “Ruth, I felt compelled by the Spirit to come back here today. I know you are having trouble praying, and I know you don’t feel loved by your Heavenly Father.” Her words seized my attention. I could not deny the truthfulness of her discovery.
“Is there a place where we could pray?” she repeated.
“Yes, I guess so,” I stammered.
As we moved to another room, she said, “Ruth, I would like to offer a prayer, and then I want you to pray.” I interrupted: “Oh, no—not me!” I told her that I didn’t think Heavenly Father would listen to me, that I didn’t feel I could ask him anything anymore. But Julie sank to her knees. We knelt side by side.
She said, “Just ask him this one simple question: ‘Am I loved?’” Then Julie began to pray. Her special prayer in my behalf softened my heart. The sweet spirit filling my heart subdued my anger and frustrations.
I realized that Heavenly Father was near, and he was waiting.
At the conclusion of Julie’s prayer, she said, “Now it’s your turn, Ruth.”
Silence blanketed the room, and the next few moments seemed like hours before the words would come. “Heavenly Father,” I finally began, “dost thou love me?” Tears flowed as I asked the question. A few moments later, my answer came, forming itself in the silence of my aching heart—“You need not ask what you already know.” It was distinct and clear.
Those words, “you already know,” came to me with warmth and love. They filled empty places within me, and I began to draw upon all the truths I had been taught throughout my life. In that moment I remembered anew the many ways Heavenly Father loves me. His love had been there all along.
Since that moment when I felt God’s love again, my gratitude has increased for his Son, Jesus the Christ, and for others who have extended his love. I am especially grateful for Julie and have tried since then to be one who, like her, can extend our Savior’s love to others in their moments of need.

I couldn’t help looking back. My feet were moving one way and my heart the other. Through my tears I could see Mama still standing on the porch. She was getting smaller with each step I took.
So many times I had asked her, “Must I be the one to go, Mama? I am only eleven years old. Are you sure I can do it all by myself?” And each time she reassured me. Yes, I was the one to go. And yes, this was Heavenly Father’s way for me to reach Zion. With Mama praying for me, I knew I shouldn’t doubt.
Mama wanted to go west with the Saints. She had no money for such a great undertaking, but she was a woman of faith and knew that her prayers would be answered.
Then Mama found a way for me to go. An elderly blind lady needed a companion to help her walk across the many, many miles of hazardous terrain to the mountains of Utah. So that is how I came to leave my mother and my family and cross the plains without them.
When I left, tears were streaming down my face. With all the courage I could muster, I clasped hands with the blind lady and walked away.
My eyes became her eyes. I guided her with my sight; she guided me with the wisdom of her years. Together we walked every step of the way through the dust and the dirt of the crude trails. After many long, tiring days and weeks and months, we made it!

On a warm July evening, 2,500 young Latter-day Saints from Southern California congregate next to the football stadium at the University of Redlands. It’s 20 minutes before showtime on opening night, and the youth dressed in colorful dance costumes are excited to perform their dance festival show after two years of planning and months of dance practices.
One group of youth begins to clap and chant “It’s dance time” as they cheer. All around them other participants are practicing their parts alone or with partners.
Soon they all line up to go into the stadium, and after the prayer and opening number, all 2,500 of them flow onto the field. The California Dreamin’ dance festival has just begun.
During the next two hours the youth move across the field performing dances like the waltz, cha-cha, and swing to live music performed by other youth and adults. When it’s over, the crowd cheers and the dancers hold their heads high, grateful for the opportunity to participate in this great event.
The last regional dance festival in Southern California was held in 1985 at the Rose Bowl, where more than 13,000 youth participated. Jim Nelson, the organizer of the California Dreamin’ dance festival remembers watching that 1985 festival. “I was just overwhelmed,” he recalls. “That festival just stuck in my memory.”
Years later as a member of the Riverside California Stake presidency, Brother Nelson suggested a dance festival as an idea for a multistake youth conference. He contacted other stakes in the region, and 12 of them decided to participate.
Many of the youth who participated were reluctant at first, but as they got into practices and met new friends, they were grateful for their leaders’ decisions to join in the festival.
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing,” says Carlos Rodriguez, 17, of the Sun City Ward in the Menifee California Stake. “They only do this once in many years, and it’s pretty cool for us that we get to do it.”
After so many years since the last regional dance festival, the leaders of these stakes were inspired by a 2004 letter from the First Presidency that encouraged local leaders to hold multistake events. The letter noted that cultural events gave youth “a sense of unity and opportunities to develop friendships.”
“Our prophet wanted us to do things like this, and doing this is a great chance to follow him,” says Akita Lagazo, 14, of the Banning Ward in the Yucaipa California Stake.
Kim Sandstrom, 16, of the Redhawk Ward in the Temecula California Stake thinks she knows why the Church would encourage activities like the dance festival. “I think as a whole we weren’t doing enough activities all together like this,” she says. “Church leaders realized so many people were drifting, and they thought these activities would help.”
That help has come because the young men and women who participated had their testimonies strengthened by being around other members of the Church their age.
“I was surprised to see how many people were here,” says Corbin Turner, 12, of the Rolling Ridge Ward in the Chino Stake. “It’s nice to know that it’s not just us, but there’s a bunch of other youth here with us.”
Fellow ward member Dallas Parker, 13, agrees. He says the dance festival “has helped to strengthen my testimony because I know there are more people out there than just us that are willing to live up to the standards we live up to.”
Many of the dance festival participants say they were surprised to learn there were so many members of the Church their age living so close by. Knowing they are not alone gives them the strength they need to not only learn new dances, but to accomplish other things in life.
“If you really want to achieve something and get somewhere with the standards that you have, it helps to have so many other people around you doing it,” says McKenna Lawler, 17, of the Butterfield Stage Ward in the Temecula California Stake.
Putting together a dance festival for 2,500 youth was no easy feat. It took a lot of effort from hundreds of adult volunteers who organized, chaperoned, and taught dances. It also required a lot of hard work from youth who learned new dances although many of them had no dancing experience.
Beth Houghtaling, 18, of the La Sierra Ward in the Jurupa California Stake said learning the waltz for the dance festival was “a really cool experience. Now I’ll always know how to do the waltz, and that’s something I’ll take with me.”
Because of their experience in the dance festival, the participants not only learned new dances, but also life skills that will help them in other endeavors.
“You learn to rely on others a lot,” says Samantha Fokken, 16, of the Menifee Ward in the Menifee California Stake. “If one person doesn’t show up, it could mess up the whole dance.”
Michael McKhann of the Foothill Ward in the Jurupa California Stake has learned that “hard work pays off, because you’re going to end up with something great.”
With more than 2,500 youth dancing on the field, making friends, and strengthening testimonies, the California Dreamin’ dance festival turned out to be just that: something great.

His courageous and daring faith is shown in another incident. He was called to serve a mission in England. After a difficult journey from Far West, Elder Taylor arrived in New York with only one cent in his pocket. But he was the last man to plead poverty, and in answer to questions if he had money, he said he did. So the next day Elder Parley P. Pratt (the man who baptized him) approached him:
“Brother Taylor, I hear you have plenty of money?”
“Yes, Brother Pratt, that’s true.” “Well,” said Elder Pratt “I’m about to publish my ‘Voice of Warning’ and ‘Millennial Poems;’ I am very much in need of money, and if you could furnish me two or three hundred dollars I should be very much obliged.”
“Well, Brother Parley, you are welcome to anything I have, if it will be of service to you.” At that he put his hand in his pocket and gave Elder Pratt the penny. A good laugh followed and then Elder Pratt said, “But I thought you gave it out that you had plenty of money.” “Yes, and so I have,” replied Elder Taylor. “I am well clothed, you furnish me plenty to eat and drink and good lodging; with all these things and a penny over, as I owe nothing, is that not plenty?”
That evening at a council meeting of some of the brethren preparing to go to England, Elder Pratt proposed that the brethren assist Elder Taylor with means to pay his passage, since Wilford Woodruff was waiting for Elder Taylor to go with him. At the close of the meeting, Elder Taylor objected and said if they had anything they should give it to Parley Pratt because he had a family to support and needed money for publishing. Wilford Woodruff, a great man of faith himself, expressed regret at Elder Taylor’s position. Then said Elder Taylor: “Well, Brother Woodruff, if you think it best for me to go, I will accompany you.” “But where will you get the money?” asked Elder Woodruff. “Oh, there will be no difficulty about that. Go and take a passage for me on your vessel, and I will furnish you the means.” Elder Woodruff did as he was asked—and then from various persons who were moved upon by the Spirit of the Lord, voluntary donations, unasked for by Elder Taylor, came into him, sufficient for him to not only pay his passage but that of another elder.

One of the highlights of my mission was my own personal experience with the doctrine of revelation. As I searched the scriptures daily in my effort to prepare myself to teach the people, I was taken by the wonder of the unfolding revelations of the Lord, both ancient and modern. I am not a doubter by nature, but I enjoy the search for scriptural and logical evidences of the beliefs that have come to me by study and by faith. For a time my scriptural search was dominated by a logical premise that I had formulated in my mind. I had thought, “If the claims of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints regarding continuing revelation are sound, the means by which revelations were received by the Prophet Joseph Smith must be consistent with the means by which revelations were received by Old and New Testament prophets and apostles.” Now, do you understand the premise? I needed to know that there was that consistency between how modern-day revelations were received and how revelations were received in ancient times.

Time this evening does not allow me to describe all that I found in that search, but let me say to you that the Lord’s pattern became very clear. Revelations to prophets have come by very consistent means. These means can be described and defined with different terminology and may be divided or grouped differently, but the distinct pattern is there. I identified five very specific means by which revelations have been given to God’s prophets. I found multiple examples of each of those throughout the scriptures. This pattern is consistently found in all the scriptures, ancient and modern. Maybe on another occasion I can talk about the five means of revelation and show you that consistent pattern of those scriptures, ancient and modern.

The knowledge of this glorious truth strengthened my faith then and continues even today to strengthen my faith now. To know that we have a living prophet who receives revelations from God—just as Abraham and Moses and Isaiah and Peter and Paul and others did—is of enormous comfort and reassurance.

When I was a teenager, my dad was serving as a bishop here on campus. He really enjoyed this calling, but I wasn't such a big fan. To me, all that it meant was that there were groups of college kids at our house all of the time and extra meetings to attend.

I remember one Sunday, October 29, 1995—I know the exact date because my grandmother made note of the meeting in her scriptures—being dragged by my dad here to campus to attend a regional conference. I wasn't excited about having to go to this extra meeting.

The conference was held in the Hart gymnasium, and I sat on a back row in the red seats. I don't remember much from the conference except that the main speaker, and presiding officer, at the meeting was President Gordon B. Hinckley, then the First Counselor in the First Presidency.

Toward the end of his remarks, President Hinckley pounded his fist on the pulpit and said, "The Lord will not let His Church be led astray. If I were to attempt to do so, the Lord would remove me from my place."

On that day, the Holy Ghost testified to my heart that prophets are real. My dad was supporting me, against my immature judgment, by bringing me to a place where he knew that a prophet of God would be. And that prophet of God bore testimony of the work, and it was delivered to me personally by the Holy Ghost, the third member of the Godhead.

Krista climbed the four steps to her front porch and dropped her backpack with a thud. Then she plopped down beside it and pulled out her social studies book, Adventures in Social Studies, Level 3. “Adventures? Ha!” Krista snorted. “More like nightmares! It’s all your fault,” she muttered. “Why did you have to be about Japan? Now what am I going to do?”
Dropping her book, Krista wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them to her chest. Chewing on her lower lip, she thought back on school that day.
Mrs. Mickles had clapped her hands together to get the class’s attention. “To end our study of Japan, this Friday we are going to have a Japanese tea ceremony,” she announced.
The class buzzed with excitement. No one seemed to notice how still Krista was. My family doesn’t drink tea, she thought. How can I go to a tea ceremony and not drink tea? Maybe she would be sick Friday and miss the whole thing.
By dinnertime Krista still hadn’t solved her problem. Gloomily she gathered the dishes off the table and carried them to the kitchen sink.
“What’s wrong, Krista?” Mom asked as she loaded the dishwasher. “You’ve been frowning ever since you came home from school.”
“Oh, Mom,” groaned Krista, “I just don’t know what to do. In Primary we learned about the prophet Daniel and how he obeyed God’s food laws even when the king said not to. And then we learned that Heavenly Father has given us the Word of Wisdom. One of the things we’re not suppose to do is drink coffee or tea. But Friday we’re having a special Japanese tea ceremony at school, and if I don’t drink the tea, everybody will think I’m weird and call me a spoilsport.” Tears rolled down Krista’s face as Mom hugged her tight.
“Let’s sit on the couch,” Mom said. “I’m sure that you can find a solution to your problem if you try.” As they snuggled together, Mom continued, “Tell me more about Daniel. Maybe he can help you.”
Krista gulped and wiped her eyes with her hands. Biting her bottom lip, she thought hard. “Well,” she began, “Daniel was a boy when he and his friends were captured by King Nebu-something-or-other.”
“Nebuchadnezzar,” Mother said.
“That’s right,” replied Krista. “Nebuchadnezzar was a king who ordered Daniel and his friends to eat lots of rich foods and drink wine. He thought it would make them stronger. Daniel knew that God said to not eat those foods because they’re bad for you.”
“So what did Daniel do?”
Krista chewed on her lip again. “Well, he asked if he could eat simple foods and water. At first the answer was no, but Daniel suggested a test. He and his friends would eat the simple, good foods, while the rest of the boys would eat what the king ordered.”
“What happened?” Mom prompted Krista.
“Daniel won! In the end, Daniel’s group was wiser and looked healthier than the other group, so all of them had to eat like Daniel after that.”
Krista thought about Daniel. He had courage, disobeying the king, and he really loved Heavenly Father. I love Heavenly Father, too, so how can I be like Daniel?
Excitedly Krista jumped up from the couch. “Oh, Mom, I can be like Daniel! I can ask Mrs. Mickles if I can drink punch instead of tea because God doesn’t want me to drink tea.” She spun around the room until she collapsed dizzily to the floor. “I bet she’ll understand.”
The next morning Krista slowly approached Mrs. Mickles’ desk. The words that seemed so perfect last night sounded scary now. “Uh, Mrs. Mickles,” she blurted out, “can I talk to you about the tea ceremony? Our family doesn’t drink tea. My church teaches that it’s bad for you—so could I bring some punch to drink, instead?”
There! She’d said it! And Mrs. Mickles didn’t look upset. Instead, she was smiling. “What a good idea, Krista. I’m sure there are other children who might not want to drink tea or won’t even like it. I’ll bring some punch so that everyone can have a choice.”
Krista gave a huge sigh of relief. “Oh thank you, Mrs. Mickles. You’re the best teacher ever!” She headed back to her desk, half-skipping in delight. Now she could enjoy the tea ceremony!
Friday finally came. After lunch, the desks were pushed to the front wall, and a woven mat placed on the floor. The boys and girls took off their shoes and knelt in a half circle on the edge of the mat. Mrs. Mickles bowed to them, and everyone bowed back. Krista watched happily as her friends received little plates of cookies and their choice of tea or punch. When Mrs. Mickles came to Krista, they exchanged bows, then Krista took her plate of cookies and cup of punch. She smiled when Mrs. Mickles winked at her. Sipping her punch, Krista decided that the Japanese tea ceremony was pretty nice, after all—thanks to Daniel.

I was with my family at a friend’s home eating dinner on Christmas Eve when I received a call from the mother of one of my patients. Her 19-year-old son had suffered a long, arduous journey with leukemia that involved multiple complications from the disease and its treatment.
Finally, after another unsuccessful round of intensive chemotherapy, he had decided against further care and returned home. He was at peace knowing that he would soon die.
That evening, when his breathing changed and he developed a high fever, his mother called for an ambulance. After they arrived at the hospital emergency room, she called me.
“I don’t know what to do!” she cried.
Doctors did not expect her son to survive the next few hours. We talked about ways to keep him comfortable, and I told her I was there for the family.
I finished my dinner, and the children started their enactment of the Nativity. As our family friend began reading from Luke chapter 2, my phone rang again and I stepped outside.
My patient was gone. Through tears, I told the family how much their son had meant to me. I expressed my hatred of childhood cancer and that I wished I could have done more for him.
After wiping away my tears, I reentered our friend’s home. My oldest son was portraying Joseph, standing next to the manger, and my youngest son, a shepherd, listened earnestly to the angel declare:
“Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy. …
“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:10–11).
In that moment, I silently cried out, “Are You really there? Did You really come to this earth over 2,000 years ago as a helpless infant? Did You truly bear our pains and afflictions of every kind?”
As I watched the children humbly and reverently honor our Savior, I heard the answer: “Yes, I am here. I came and overcame. ‘I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands’” (see Isaiah 49:16).
None of us are immune from pain, sorrow, and heartache. But in those moments, we can be lifted by the angel’s words: “Fear not” (Luke 2:10). And we can be strengthened by the Lord’s words: “In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).
Since then, Christmas Eve has had new meaning for me. I am reminded of my patient, his family, and the comfort of knowing that through the Savior’s sacrifice, we too will overcome the world.

When I was called as elders quorum president in 2000, only seven elders were attending priesthood meeting. Also, we weren’t doing a good job of making our home teaching—now ministering—visits.
I knew we faced a great challenge to inspire the elders to step up. So, for starters, we decided to reorganize assignments and increase supervision.
And our elders quorum? The Lord blessed us as we moved ahead with a unified spirit. Our home teaching soon rose to 100 percent, and our priesthood attendance increased to 35 faithful elders.

On the trail a loving attachment frequently developed between a pioneer and his ox team. Joseph F. Smith related: “My team leaders’ names were Thom and Joe—we raised them from calves, and they were both white. Thom was trim built, active, young, and more intelligent than many a man. Many times while traveling sandy or rough roads, on long, thirsty drives, my oxen were lowing with the heat and fatigue. I would put my arms around Thom’s neck and cry bitter tears! That was all I could do. Thom was my favorite and best and most willing and obedient servant and friend.”

The elders’ first meeting with Chea was quite accidental. Looking for another family, they happened to knock on his door. Chea was the only family member who spoke English. In the course of their conversation, he told them that he loved Jesus, wanted to find a church, and made them promise to take him to church the next Sunday. Elder Gooch recalls, “I was very impressed with Chea. He was extremely mature and seemed like a 25-year-old in an 11-year-old body.” Chea’s parents told the elders that their son visited several Christian churches on his own, but “didn’t feel right in any of them.” After hearing the discussions and attending sacrament meeting, Chea knew he had found what he was looking for. “The people are so nice. I feel I belong. As I learn the scriptures and read the Book of Mormon, I can feel Heavenly Father’s love for me.” Chea loves to sing and adds, “The music makes me very happy.” Although his parents have taken the missionary lessons, attend church often, and fully support Chea, they have not joined.

When I was growing up, one of my jobs was to burn the trash. I would gather the garbage from the house. I’d put it in a big metal barrel in the backyard. Then I would light a match and drop it in the barrel.
One day it was really windy, and the match just wouldn’t stay lit. I decided to make a torch out of newspaper. I thought that way the flame would last long enough to light the trash on fire. I remembered that it wasn’t smart to play with fire, but I ignored the warning feeling. I rolled up some newspaper into a cone, lit it with a match, and dropped it into the barrel.
Whoosh! The strong wind made the newspaper burst into flames, and the trash quickly caught fire. Big flames blew past my face. Luckily most of my hair was pulled back into a ponytail. But my bangs were singed into crisp little wisps! My eyelashes were gone, and my eyebrows too. It just happened so fast!
That taught me a lesson: if you play with something dangerous, you can get hurt! Our parents and the Holy Ghost warn us to avoid dangerous things like pornography and drugs. If we choose to ignore the warnings, there are harmful consequences.
I’m grateful that my hair grew back over time. That’s like repentance. When we make wrong choices, we can choose to change. We can be forgiven because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. No matter how young or old we are, our Savior is always there to help us. We can feel peace again, just like on the day we were baptized.
Heavenly Father gave us commandments because He loves us. He wants to protect and help us. What wonderful gifts Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ have given us!

Brian Taylor, a BYU player who served in the Spain Seville Mission, will never forget or regret his decision to serve a mission. “I had the great opportunity to go out and open up a new mission in the Canary Islands. I felt like the Apostle Paul. We’d walk down the street and people would ask, ‘What are you young men doing in white shirts and ties? Why aren’t you down at the beach in your swimsuits?’ When we explained what we were doing, they’d be impressed, and they’d listen to us, sometimes 150 people at once. We’d show movies like The First Vision and Families Are Forever on the sides of buildings, and the whole village would come out to watch. We would then bear our testimonies, and the people would weep.”
Brian smiled and shook his head as he remembered, “There is just no comparison between that and playing basketball. You win a game for your team, you feel great, but the feeling only lasts a short time. But just as I talk about being on that island and bearing my testimony to that many people, it makes me feel like cheering again. You just feel good about it, and it never leaves you. It’s that eternal kind of feeling.”

One afternoon while my mom was reading the Church News, I saw a picture of a child who looked sick. I asked my mom why he looked that way. My mom told me that it was a picture of a child in Ethiopia, and that he did not have enough to eat. He was starving. I asked my mom if we could go to the grocery store and buy some food for him. My mom explained that children who are starving need to eat special food that we could not buy at the grocery store. But she told me that we could give money to the bishop at church, and he would make sure that it would help people in need, including the children in Ethiopia. I ran to my room and brought back a bag full of money from my piggy bank.
When we arrived at church on Sunday, my mom took me to get a tithing envelope. Together my mom and I filled out the donation slip. We listed the amount of money I had brought in the “humanitarian aid” line of the donation slip. I couldn’t wait to give my envelope to the bishop. It made me feel good to share what I have with others.

In the Book of Mormon, Lehi gives a blessing to each of his sons before he passes away that helps them to see their strengths and eternal potential. I am the youngest of eight children, and this past year I have been the only child at home for the first time. Not having my siblings close by and not always having someone to talk to has been hard for me. There have been nights when I have felt very lonely. I’m grateful for my parents, who have tried their best to help me. An example of this is when my dad offered to give me a priesthood blessing of comfort during a particularly challenging time. After his blessing, things didn’t change right away, but I was able to feel peace and love from my Heavenly Father and from my dad. I feel blessed to have a worthy father who can provide priesthood blessings whenever I need them and who helps me to see my strengths and eternal potential, just as Lehi did when he blessed his children.