Gospel Story Finder

Peace and forgiveness. Early in 2005 my husband gave two men a ride. When my husband returned home, he discovered that his sapelu (machete) was missing. This really hurt him: he’d done a good deed, and this was how he was repaid. The incident bothered my husband to the point that he was having trouble finding peace.Several months later, we awoke to find that our house had been broken into. Worse, we realized the intruders had come into the rooms where our children and we had been sleeping. I was angry and thought, “If my husband was so upset about a knife, he will go completely nuts now!” But he had a spirit of peace that spilled over to the rest of us. He expressed gratitude that nobody had been hurt and hope that the people who had taken our things would use them to improve their lives.I was speechless at the change. Why was I not able to feel the same peace? Then I realized: while I had been “too busy” to start reading, my husband was firmly entrenched in the Book of Mormon. Kathleen Arp, Pesega, Samoa

The young people listened intently as Don explained that although even as a child he had been a Buck Rogers fan and dreamed of going to the moon, he would never have been an astronaut except for an experience that seemed at the time no more than a fluke. Only years later did he realize that the Lord had reached out and touched his life.
“When I was at Officer Candidate School,” he said, “the section leader came around and we were supposed to sign up for the, physical examination for any of the specialty programs such as underwater demolition or submarines. We were in the study hall, and he walked up behind me and said, ‘Okay, Lind, what shall I sign you up for?’ and I said, ‘Oh, by all means sign me up for flight training.’ He said, ‘Okay,’ and I said, ‘I’m joking!’ He said, ‘I already marked it down,’ and I said ‘Well, erase it!’ He said, ‘I marked it in pen, and this is the only copy I’ve got.’ If he had marked it in pencil he would have just erased it. I said, ‘What am I going to do now?’ He said, ‘Just go take the physical. You don’t really have to apply for it.’ ‘All right, fine.’ So I took the physical, and by golly I passed it! So I thought, well, you can always go down and just try out for flight training, and if you like it … I did try it, and I did like it, and eventually I began flying off aircraft carriers. But if that guy had had a pencil in his hand instead of a pen, I never would have been an astronaut, because flight skills are one of the requirements.
“I learned from this experience that sometimes we don’t realize what the really critical decisions are, and so we’ve got to have the Lord’s help in guiding us. Choosing a wife or husband is an obviously important decision, but taking that physical didn’t seem very important at all. One reason you pray regularly is so that these seemingly insignificant decisions can be the right ones.”

Kevin watched as his older brother and sister got ready to go to the temple to do baptisms for the dead. Kevin wanted to go too.
Dad, can I go?
You’re not old enough yet, but I’m glad that you want to go. When you turn 12, you can go too.
Kevin helped his sister pack her bag. Then he helped his brother pick out a tie.
They left, and Kevin stayed home with Mom and his baby sister, Erin.
When Erin cried, Kevin gave her a teddy bear.
I know Heavenly Father is happy with the way you are serving Him today.
But I didn’t go to the temple.
Yes, but you helped your brother and sister get ready. And you are helping me take care of Erin.
When you help other people, you serve Heavenly Father.

Let’s start with the assignment to be a ministering sister. Whether you have that assignment as a 10-year-old daughter in a family where the father has died, or as a Relief Society president whose town was recently affected by fire, or when you are in a hospital recovering from surgery—you have a chance to fulfill your call from the Lord to be His ministering daughter.
Those appear to be very different ministering assignments. Yet they all require the preparation of a powerful, loving heart, a fearless faith that the Lord gives no command save He prepares a way, and a desire to go and do for Him.
Because she was prepared, the 10-year-old daughter put her arms around her widowed mother and prayed to know how to help her family. And she keeps at it.
The Relief Society president had prepared to minister before the unexpected fire in her area. She had come to know and love the people. Her faith in Jesus Christ had grown over the years from having received answers to her prayers for the Lord to help her in small services for Him. Because of her long preparation, she was ready and eager to organize her sisters to minister to people and families in distress.
A sister recovering in a hospital from surgery was prepared to minister to her fellow patients. She had spent a lifetime ministering for the Lord to every stranger as if he or she was a neighbor and a friend. When she felt in her heart the call to minister in the hospital, she served others so bravely and with such love that the other patients began to hope she wouldn’t recover too soon.
In the same way that you prepare to minister, you can and must prepare for your call to be a leader for the Lord when it comes. It will require faith in Jesus Christ, rooted in your deep love of the scriptures, to lead people and to teach His word without fear. Then you will be prepared to have the Holy Ghost as your constant companion. You will be eager to say, “I will,” when your counselor in the Young Women presidency says, with panic in her voice, “Sister Alvarez is sick today. Who will teach her class?”
It takes much the same preparation for the wonderful day when the Lord calls you to an assignment as a mother. But it will also take an even more loving heart than you needed earlier. It will take faith in Jesus Christ beyond what has ever before been in your heart. And it will take a capacity to pray for the influence, direction, and comfort of the Holy Ghost beyond what you may have felt was even possible.
You might reasonably ask how a man of any age can know what mothers need. It’s a valid question. Men can’t know everything, but we can learn some lessons by revelation from God. And we can also learn much by observation, when we take the opportunity to seek the Spirit to help us understand what we observe.
I have been observing Kathleen Johnson Eyring for the 57 years we have been married. She is the mother of four boys and two girls. To date, she has accepted the call to be a mothering influence on more than a hundred direct family members and hundreds more whom she has adopted into her mother heart.
You remember President Nelson’s perfect description of a woman’s divine mission—including her mission of mothering: “As mother, teacher, or nurturing Saint, she molds living clay to the shape of her hopes. In partnership with God, her divine mission is to help spirits live and souls be lifted. This is the measure of her creation.”
As nearly as I can discern, my wife, Kathleen, has followed that charge, given to our Father’s daughters. The key appears to me to be the words “she molds living clay to the shape of her hopes … in partnership with God.” She did not force. She molded. And she had a template for her hopes, and to which she tried to mold those she loved and mothered. Her template was the gospel of Jesus Christ—as I could see through prayerful observation over the years.
Becoming a covenant woman in partnership with God is how great and good daughters of God have always mothered, led, and ministered, serving in whatever way and place He has prepared for them. I promise that you will find joy in your journey to your heavenly home as you return to Him as a covenant-keeping daughter of God.
I testify that God the Father lives and He loves you. He will answer your prayers. His Beloved Son leads, in every detail, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. President Russell M. Nelson is His living prophet. And Joseph Smith saw and spoke with God the Father and Jesus Christ in a grove of trees in Palmyra, New York. I know that is true. I also testify that Jesus Christ is your Savior; He loves you. And through His Atonement, you can be purified and lifted to the high and holy callings which will come to you. I so testify in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

A friend of mine once shared an experience he had on his mission in Brazil. He and his companion met a woman who forcefully declared that she was not interested in any religious message. A religious leader had once told her that her infant son who died could never be saved because he had not been baptized. The thought of that broke her heart. She told the missionaries that unless they had a better message, she wanted nothing to do with their religion.
Fortunately, they had a better message.
The doctrine of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on the salvation of little children can be summarized in a single verse of scripture: “All children who die before they arrive at the years of accountability are saved in the celestial kingdom of heaven” (Doctrine and Covenants 137:10).
Although this doctrine is clear, many people still have questions about or misunderstand this topic. Let’s shed some light on a few of the most common questions.
Many people assume that little children are saved simply because they are innocent. While little children certainly are innocent, the Book of Mormon teaches plainly that without the Atonement of Jesus Christ, even “little children … could not be saved,” because “in Adam, or by nature, they fall” (Mosiah 3:16).
Although they are innocent of any sin, little children would still be subject to physical and spiritual death brought by the Fall. As a result, without the Resurrection and Atonement of Jesus Christ, they would be eternally lost, as would the rest of us (see 2 Nephi 9:6–10).
Gratefully, the Book of Mormon clarifies that “the blood of Christ atoneth for” little children (Mosiah 3:16), and “the curse of Adam is taken from them” (Moroni 8:8). Because of the Savior’s Atonement, little children are free from the effects of the Fall of Adam and Eve, “for they are whole” (Moses 6:54).
Doctrine and Covenants 137:10 teaches that “all children … are saved in the celestial kingdom of heaven.” The only condition is that they “die before they arrive at the years of accountability.” Elder Bruce R. McConkie (1915–85) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles explained: “Accountability does not burst full-bloom upon a child at any given moment in his life. Children become accountable gradually, over a number of years. Becoming accountable is a process. … There comes a time, however, when accountability is real and actual and sin is attributed in the lives of those who develop normally. It is eight years of age, the age of baptism.”1
In other words, accountability develops within children all along, but at eight years old they are sufficiently accountable to be baptized and are therefore sufficiently accountable for their own sins.
As any parent knows, however, this does not mean children are incapable of doing something they know is wrong. What it does mean is that they are not yet sufficiently responsible for these wrong choices.
Children have what might appropriately be called a “grace period,” when they are not responsible for their wrongdoings as they learn and grow into accountability. If they should die in that time, then they are saved by the grace of Christ without baptism or any other effort on their part (see Moroni 8).
President Joseph F. Smith (1838–1918) lost many children to early deaths. He was comforted by the doctrine that little children would be resurrected as little children and raised to maturity by their righteous parents after the Resurrection. President Smith once shared the following: “Joseph Smith taught the doctrine that the infant child that was laid away in death would come up in the resurrection as a child; and, pointing to the mother of a lifeless child, he said to her: ‘You will have the joy, the pleasure, and satisfaction of nurturing this child, after its resurrection, until it reaches the full stature of its spirit.’ There is restitution, there is growth, there is development, after the resurrection from death. I love this truth. It speaks volumes of happiness, of joy and gratitude to my soul. Thank the Lord he has revealed these principles to us.”2
Not only will little children reach full maturity; they will also reach full exaltation. Abinadi taught that “little children also have eternal life” (Mosiah 15:25). The Prophet Joseph Smith taught that “you shall have your children; for they shall have eternal life, for their debt is paid.”3
To obtain the highest degree of the celestial kingdom, those who are accountable must enter into the new and everlasting covenant of marriage (see Doctrine and Covenants 131:1–3). Little children who die will have this opportunity in the future. President Joseph Fielding Smith (1876–1972) explained: “The Lord will grant unto these children the privilege of all the sealing blessings which pertain to exaltation. … When they grow, after the resurrection, to the full maturity of the spirit, they will be entitled to all the blessings which they would have been entitled to had they been privileged to tarry here and receive them.”4
This question is difficult to answer, especially for those who have lost a child. Perhaps the best way to start to answer this question is with the words of Nephi, who testified, “I know that [God] loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things” (1 Nephi 11:17).
We do not know all the reasons for every tragedy that happens in mortality, but we can rest assured that God loves us. Although we should not assume that tragedies are God’s will, His plan provides the way to overcome all tragedies.5 “Earth has no sorrow that heav’n cannot cure.”6
The Prophet Joseph Smith and his wife, Emma, had reason to ask why little children die—six of their children died. The Prophet said: “I have meditated upon the subject, and asked the question, why it is that infants, innocent children, are taken away from us, especially those that seem to be the most intelligent and interesting. The strongest reasons that present themselves to my mind are these: This world is a very wicked world. … The Lord takes many away, even in infancy, that they may escape the envy of man, and the sorrows and evils of this present world; they were too pure, too lovely, to live on earth; therefore, if rightly considered, instead of mourning we have reason to rejoice as they are delivered from evil, and we shall soon have them again.”7
Another servant of the Lord, Elder McConkie, experienced the death of an infant granddaughter. At her funeral he said, “There are certain spirits who come into this life only to receive bodies; for reasons that we do not know, but which are known in the infinite wisdom of the Eternal Father, they do not need the testing, probationary experiences of mortality.”8
Forever and Ever, by Greg K. Olsen
Although nothing in this life can take away the feelings of loss a family experiences with the death of a child, we may find comfort in the doctrine that little children who die will be exalted. We know this because it has been revealed by our loving Father in Heaven and taught by His modern prophets and apostles.
These truths from latter-day revelation are some of the sweetest and most comforting truths of the gospel.

I remember the first time I met my wife, Elisa. As a favor to a friend, I had gone to her home to pick up her sister, Frances. Elisa opened the door, and at least for me, it was love at first sight.
I think she must have felt something too, for the first words I ever remember her saying were, “I knew who you was.”
Elisa was an English major.
To this day I still cherish those five words as some of the most beautiful in human language.
She loved to play tennis and had a lightning serve. I tried to play tennis with her, but I finally quit after coming to the realization that I couldn’t hit what I couldn’t see.
She was my strength and my joy. Because of her, I am a better man, husband, and father. We married, had eight children, and walked together through 65 years of life.
When President Hinckley spoke at Sister Wirthlin’s funeral, he said that it is a devastating, consuming thing to lose someone you love. It gnaws at your soul. He was right. As Elisa was my greatest joy, her passing is my greatest sorrow.
We will all rise from the grave. On that day I will once again hold in my arms my beloved Elisa.

One afternoon, Ben’s mom said he had to clean up his room in the next 15 minutes if he wanted to play video games. Ben’s room was a big mess, with toys, clothes, and books all over the floor. Ben wanted to play video games, but he didn’t want to clean his room. “Please let my room be cleaned by magic,” he prayed. Fifteen minutes later when Mom came back to check, the room was still messy. Ben was not allowed to play video games. “Why didn’t Heavenly Father answer my prayer?” he wondered for the third time.
One night Ben awoke in the middle of the night with a terrible earache. His ear hurt so much that he had to go to the hospital. On the way, he prayed, “Heavenly Father, my ear hurts worse than anything has ever hurt me before. I really need help. Please help the doctors find a way to make my ear feel better.” Ben remembered that Heavenly Father hadn’t always given him what he asked for, but he tried to have faith and believe that the pain would go away.
At the hospital, the doctor gave Ben some medicine. It tasted yucky, but Ben swallowed it, and on the way home his ear started feeling better. He knew that Heavenly Father had answered his prayer.
As Mom tucked him back into bed, Ben told her about the scuba diver, the broccoli, and the messy room. “Why does Heavenly Father answer some prayers and not others?” he asked.
“Heavenly Father always answers our prayers,” she said. “But sometimes the answer is no if we ask for things that would be bad for us. He wants us to learn here on earth. What did you learn at the swimming pool?”
Ben thought for a minute. “I learned that some things float and some don’t,” he said. “And that I have a nice brother who will help me.”
Mom nodded. “Then there’s the casserole. I’m sorry you think that broccoli is squishy, but it’s good for you. Why do you suppose Heavenly Father let you eat it?”
Ben sighed. “Because he wants me to be healthy and strong.”
“And finally the messy room,” Mom said. “Why didn’t Heavenly Father clean it for you?”
“I guess because it’s my job, and I need to learn to do it.” Ben sat quietly for a minute, thinking. “But when I asked Heavenly Father to help the doctors to make my ear feel better, the answer was yes,” he said.
Mom nodded. “Yes, it was. But did your ear stop hurting the instant you asked?”
Ben frowned. “No. Why not?”
“Heavenly Father wants us to do all we can to help solve our problems. What did we do?”
“We went to the doctor, and I took the medicine he gave me, even though it tasted yucky.”
Mom smiled. “Heavenly Father helped the doctor to give you good medicine, and He helped your ear to feel better.”
Ben rubbed his ear. “Sometimes the answer is yes, and sometimes it’s no.”
“And sometimes it’s ‘not yet,’” Mom added.
Ben hopped out of bed. “I’m going to thank Heavenly Father for helping the doctors to make my ear feel better,” he said. “And from now on, I’m going to try to ask for things that are good for me. Heavenly Father knows how to answer best.”
Mom gave him a hug. “I think that broccoli is making you smarter already!”

Last year, my Primary teacher asked us to pray for a girl in our class who hadn’t come to church. I decided to remember her in my personal prayers too. I prayed for her all year, even though I didn’t know her. I reminded my family to include her during family prayer too. I was so happy because that friend came to Primary on Christmas Sunday! She is now my friend and comes to church sometimes. I know Heavenly Father heard those prayers.
Campbell D., age 5, California, USA

A young boy was trying to smooth out the dirt area behind his house so he could play there with his cars. There was a large rock obstructing his work. The boy pushed and pulled with all his might, but no matter how hard he tried, the rock wouldn’t budge.
His father watched for a while, then came to his son and said, “You need to use all your strength to move a rock this large.”
The boy responded, “I have used all my strength!”
His father corrected him: “No you haven’t. You haven’t had my help yet!”
They then bent down together and moved the rock easily.

We weren’t quite sure what to expect when the bishop of our ward in northern Utah, USA, encouraged the youth to attend the largest family history conference in the world—RootsTech, held in Salt Lake City. We followed his counsel, and a group of 30 people from our ward spent the day attending this amazing experience.
We listened to President Russell M. Nelson’s admonition to “do something to actually experience the joy [of family history and temple work] for ourselves.”1 We realized that the dates assigned to our ward by the Brigham City Temple for our youth baptism night and the ward temple night were only two days apart and we decided to follow President Nelson’s counsel.
One month later we held a name-gathering night, a combined Mutual activity for all of the youth and anyone else in the ward who wanted to participate. Everyone brought smart phones, tablets, or computers, and we hooked up to a printer so that we could print out temple-ready names right on the spot.
With the motivation of helping our ancestors (along with a pizza party), we helped each other until we found at least one family name in need of a temple ordinance. “I gained a testimony from the night I looked for names,” said Bryton W., 16. “I was struggling to find even one, but a leader kept pushing me, and I finally succeeded. It made me feel better knowing that I helped someone.”
We learned, worked, acted, taught, and shared. Finding family names to take to the temple touched us and bonded us together.
The following week, we took these names to the temple for our ward’s temple week. The youth did the needed baptisms and confirmations on Wednesday night, and the adults in our ward took it from there, culminating in sealings on Saturday. “It was my first time going to the temple,” said Tili W., 12. “I felt good knowing I was doing temple work for my ancestors. I want to continue doing this work, because I get a good feeling, almost like when I was baptized.”
Because of this experience, our ward has a new standard for participating in family history and temple work, and we are excited to continue finding names and taking them to the temple together.

I would like to share an experience of faith. Being the only child, Elder Hermelindo Coy said good-bye to his mother and left for the first time in his life his small village in the mountains of Senahú, Guatemala. He entered the Missionary Training Center the fourteenth of March, 1991. Although he had been a member of the Church for only two years and also very timid about talking to people, his determination to serve was great. His formal education was less than five years of elementary school in his native language of Kekchi. Spanish, the official language of Guatemala, was foreign to him.

During his mission he learned to live with pain in his leg. He rarely complained. In August 1992 he noticed that in addition to the increase in the pain, something was abnormal about his knee. He had a medical exam—the diagnosis: bone cancer. A more careful exam revealed cancer in the liver, lungs, and lymphatic system; in other words, his illness was terminal. He did not understand the nature of the illness nor its seriousness. With the help of a translator and using examples from the farm life with which he was familiar, he understood that he had little time to live.

He never asked, Why is this happening to me? He did not lament or express negative feelings. He was obedient to all that was required of him. He was asked if he would like to return home, but he asked to remain in the mission and serve as long as possible, even until his death. By October of the same year, he walked with difficulty, requiring the use of a cane. He could work only a few hours each day. By December he was unable to walk. For the first time he was discouraged because he could not proselyte. His worry was always who would take care of his mother after he died.

In one of his visits, the mission president asked him to teach more of the basic doctrine to his mother, who, along with mission nurses, was providing twenty-four-hour care. When he taught the plan of salvation to his mother in his native tongue, his face radiated assurance and light. Elder Coy was understanding with power and conviction what he was teaching.

As his strength declined, he placed his complete trust in the Lord. On one occasion when the pain was very strong, he expressed in prayer, “Heavenly Father, I do not know the day or the hour that I will die, but I want to know soon from thee about my new assignment.” He died in February 1993. His death blessed all the missionaries, leaders, members, and even nonmembers who learned of his courage to serve and endure to the end. His faith was so simple that it was contagious. He never feared death. He strengthened all who knew him.

The antique mower just wouldn’t get the edges on that patch between the cracked, roller-coaster sidewalk and the curb. The blades kept catching on the walkway to Aunt Ella’s house. All in all, I guess it did do a pretty good job, and it made the neatest noise when I pushed it. But I always had to make two passes on the driveway between the wheel tracks.
I checked my handiwork. Not too bad for 50¢. I had taken extra care around the rhodo-whatever-it-was, and I hadn’t even knocked one bloom off the ferny “jungle path” to the backyard. I liked the jungle path; it looked like every plant in the world must be back there. It was cool and misty on hot summer days playing hide-and-seek with birds, snails, and my cousins—a dark green Africa.
Aunt Ella’s garage was all of wood. Separate from the house and ever dark, it seemed to sit and brood. It kind of scared me to put the mower away. I never put the mower in the back, always right next to the pale, pink Studebaker, warily regarding the gray-on-brown-on-rust monsters that lay deeper in the tomb.
Those pesty bees about stung me every time I walked around the bottlebrush plant to get to the back door. The jungle slowly encroached upon all mobile things there. I always wondered how Aunt Ella could keep out of its clutches while she filled her bird feeder and cracked nuts on the dirty, pink tablecloth. Why, she was already 83!
The back door creaked as usual when I went into the porch. The washboard in the sink was really starting to rust. An old ladder led to the attic, where jars of apricot jam were stored. I sometimes climbed up there to check for gold and treasure.
I liked the white porcelain handles on the sink in Aunt Ella’s kitchen (even if they were a little loose) and the deep basin. When I would get the blue porcelain plates out of the cupboard, I had to be careful because the latch didn’t work very well. But what could you expect from old wood? Aunt Ella’s fridge was the only round, white one that I’ve ever seen. At least you never hurt yourself if you bumped into it. Her bathtub had feet on it, but they looked like witch’s claws.
Aunt Ella always sat in her rocker and let me eat all the hot chocolate chip cookies I wanted. I usually wandered by the perpetually black TV set, looked at all the pictures of people I had never known on the mantle, played with her black phone with the frayed cord, and tried to catch the two little birds that zipped around free in the house. I would finally plop down in the purplish pink, overstuffed chair next to the brass lamp with the fringe on it. It tipped over easy, so I had to be careful.
I made dust clouds from the chair’s arm while listening to Aunt Ella talk and waiting for Mom to pick me up. When I heard the beep I didn’t even remind her that she forgot to pay me. I said, “Bye, Aunt Ella!” opened the creaky screen door, jumped all five steps at once, hopped in the car, and waved to Aunt Ella on her dingy white and gray porch.
Later on, Mom said that Aunt Ella was getting pretty bad. I didn’t cry at her funeral, not even out of duty as I passed her open coffin.
The other day I drove by her house. The lawn was clipped to perfection, the rhododendron was gone, and the jungle path just wasn’t there. A new car was parked in the driveway, and on the porch the fancy screen door glinted in the dusky light.
Then, I cried.

As a student, you probably have or will learn about William Shakespeare in school. But what if, instead, Shakespeare was a student who learned at your school? For David Arnold, this was a reality. He went to King Edward VI School in England, where Shakespeare is said to have attended.
This school was appealing to David because it has a good reputation. Getting in is also really competitive, and David didn’t know if he would be accepted when he applied at age 11.
But getting into the school taught David something about himself: “I’m better than I thought I was,” he says. “It made me realize that I can do it.”

There are living, breathing pioneers in French Polynesia. For Lianna Tarahu, 14, of Hapiti, she needs look no further than her grandparents. They joined the Church many years ago and remember with fondness Elder John Fuhriman, the missionary who taught them.
Because of her grandparents, Lianna is the third generation in her family to be active. But Lianna, just like everyone, has to gain her own testimony.
“First of all, I was very blessed to be raised in the Church. My parents taught me all of my life the principles of the gospel. We have studied the scriptures together,” said Lianna. “There wasn’t a particular moment or one experience, but many things through the years that have helped my testimony grow little by little. Now I attend seminary and am learning a lot of wonderful things about the gospel. Because of seminary, when I serve a mission I will be much better prepared.”
Lianna is very serious about a mission. She said her favorite scripture is 1 Nephi 3:7 when Nephi promises to go and do the things the Lord commands. [1 Ne. 3:7] Lianna says, “This promise is one I make also.” When asked what she will do if she is called to a faraway place, Lianna hesitates. She is the oldest of 11 brothers and sisters. She will miss her many family members and they will miss her. She says, “It would make no difference. If the Lord calls me to America, to London, or to Bora Bora, I will serve.”
Taped in the front of Lianna’s scriptures is a copy of the standards booklet For the Strength of Youth. Of course, her copy is in French, so it’s called Soyez Fort, “Be Strong.” She looks at it often.
Is it difficult for her to follow the standards? Lianna gives one example. “It is very hot here, but we are told to be modest and wear dresses and blouses with sleeves,” Lianna says. “Sometimes it is difficult, but the standards are good and protect us. We learn about dating and courtesy and many things we need to know to be Saints.”

One Sunday morning in a nursing home in the valley, I witnessed the presentation of a beautiful gift as a young girl shared her musical talent with those lonely and elderly men and women who yearned not for food or for clothing but for someone who cared, someone who shared, and someone who provided a “hyacinth” for the soul.
A hush fell over the wheelchair-confined audience as the girl took bow in hand and played on her violin a beautiful melody. At the conclusion, one patient audibly declared, “My dear, that was lovely.” Then she began to clap her hands to express approval. A second patient joined in clapping, then a third, a fourth, and soon everyone applauded.
Together the young girl and I walked out of the nursing home. She said to me, “I have never played better. I have never felt better.” She had been guided by God and led by the Lord. Aches, pains, despair, and sadness had been conquered. Compassion had gained the victory.

Being on the receiving end of such uncharacteristic kindness can change lives. In Naju, sixteen-year-old Seo Jin Oo is alive today, thanks to the faith and love of his family and dozens of gospel friends.
Jin Oo was at school, studying during a recess break, when a classmate flew into a rage and hit him on the head with a club. Dazed but still conscious, Jin Oo moved to the back of the classroom, where he fell unconscious to the floor.
For the Seo family, the next thirteen days were filled with blessings, prayers, and round-the-clock vigils. The summer weather was blistering hot, the hospital was not air-conditioned, and there were few nurses. Jin Oo’s parents, Seo Young Won and Kim Kyung Ja, were responsible for keeping their son’s temperature down by continually applying cool towels to his feverish body.
“There was always a member or a missionary there,” recalls Brother Seo. Members traveled to the hospital to give Jin Oo’s parents much-needed breaks. Jin Oo’s name was put on the prayer roll in the Seoul temple, and members throughout the Kwangju stake held special fasts.
“The doctors and nurses tried to prepare us for his death,” Sister Kim observes. “But we kept on hoping. We had faith.”
After two surgeries, Jin Oo awoke from the coma and, contrary to doctors’ predictions, has suffered no brain damage or lasting effects from the incident.
“It was an extremely emotional time for us,” says Sister Kim. “But we certainly learned what really mattered and where we could turn for help. Jin Oo’s experience has strengthened us as a family and as a branch. We’re closer, more unified, and more aware of others and their needs. We really do have a greater determination to love and serve others.”

I remember a woman who constantly nagged her husband (an inactive elder) about not paying his tithing, saying again and again, “When you don’t pay your tithing, you deny me and the children the blessings that are associated with this commandment … I want those blessings, even if you don’t.” She became so irate and her marriage became so disturbed over this issue that she went to the bishop trying to get his aid in forcing her husband to pay tithing. The bishop’s response was, “Overall your husband is basically a good and righteous man. If you sustain him in righteousness, even in his judgment not to pay tithing at this time, the Lord will sustain you, and you will be obeying God’s commandments and will not miss out on any of the blessings.” When the husband later learned of this bishop’s counsel, he was so deeply affected and impressed that his Church activity increased and the marital relationship was much improved.

“This is the last time,” Jacob thought. “Then I’ll go to sleep.” He pulled the blankets over his body—from the top of his head to the very tips of his toes. Jacob held his breath and counted—“one, two, three”—then poked his head out like a turtle. He had been practicing for a whole week, getting ready for his big day.
“Jacob, are you still awake?” Mom whispered.
Jacob grinned. “Yes, I was just practicing again.”
Mom bent over his bed and tucked the blankets around him. “Good night,” she said with a smile.
The next morning at breakfast Jacob rested his chin in his hands.
“What’s wrong?” Dad asked.
“Well, I’m just not sure if I’m ready to be baptized,” Jacob said. “What if I make a mistake?”
“Jacob, everyone makes mistakes. What’s important is that we keep trying to do our best. Do you have a testimony of the Savior?”
“Yes, but I’m afraid I’ll forget everything. I want everything to be perfect for my special day.”
“I’m happy that you’re taking this seriously, Jacob. Getting baptized is an important step.”
Jacob sighed. “I want to be good, but how can I be good all the time? How can I be like Jesus? He was perfect.”
“Remember the still, small voice of the Holy Ghost?” Dad asked. “It can speak to our hearts and help us in a very direct way.”
Jacob nodded. “It gives you a warm feeling inside, like when Mom covers me with my blankets.”
Dad smiled. “That’s right. Did you know that when you are baptized you can have the influence of the Holy Ghost with you all the time?”
Jacob sat up straight. “Really?”
“Yes,” Dad said. “But remember, it’s important that you try and do what is right, and the Holy Ghost can help you.”
“I can do that!” Jacob said. He jumped up from the table and wrapped his arms around Dad’s neck. “Thanks, Dad.”
That day at school Jacob tried to do his best. He helped his teacher erase the chalkboard, but he accidentally knocked a whole box of chalk onto the floor. He ate lunch with a boy who always sat alone, but Jacob accidentally tripped and slopped his spaghetti onto the boy’s lap. He even said hi to Max, a boy who wasn’t very nice to him. There was no doubt about it—doing his best was hard work!
After school Jacob dragged himself into the house and dropped his backpack on the floor. “Hi, Mom,” he said with a groan.
“Hi! How was school today?”
Jacob hung his head. “Well, I tried my best, but I guess my best isn’t good enough,” he said sadly. He explained about the dropped chalk and the spaghetti spill. “I want to be the best I can before I’m baptized, but it’s hard sometimes!”
Mom wrapped her arms around Jacob and gave him a squeeze. “Jacob, accidentally spilling or dropping something isn’t a sin. You do need to be careful, but what’s important is that you’re trying to do what’s right. Heavenly Father loves you and is happy when His children try their best to live righteously.”
Before going to bed that night, Jacob knelt down to pray. “Heavenly Father, I’m worried,” he said. “I want to get baptized, but I’m afraid I’m not good enough. Please help me to know when the time is right.”
Jacob felt his body tingle. He felt warm inside. Suddenly, he wasn’t so worried anymore. He felt calm and peaceful.
The next day at school Jacob heard a voice bellow, “Hey, Jacob!”
Jacob knew that voice. He tried to hide, but it was no use; he had already been spotted. Suddenly he was standing face to face with Max.
Max stared at Jacob and crossed his arms. “What do you want from me? No one ever says hi to me. Did someone dare you?”
Jacob shrugged. “I was just trying to be nice. I’m getting baptized.”
“Baptized?” Max asked.
Jacob shuffled his feet nervously. He wasn’t sure how to explain baptism. He said a silent prayer in his mind. “Baptism is when we make special promises to Heavenly Father. We promise to try and keep the commandments. Heavenly Father loves us and wants us to be good.”
“How do you know?” Max asked.
“I know because He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to die for our sins.”
Max shot out a bunch of questions. “Can anyone be baptized? Where is Jesus now? When—”
Jacob laughed. “Slow down. I can’t answer all your questions, but I know some missionaries who can.” Jacob took a deep breath. A thought whispered in his heart and he asked, “Max, would you like to come to my baptism?”
Two weeks later the day of Jacob’s baptism arrived. He changed into white clothing at the church and neatly combed his hair. Dad dressed in white too. Jacob’s family, friends, and Max sat waiting. Jacob stepped down into the warm water. He looked at his new friend Max and smiled. He held Dad’s hand, closed his eyes, and listened to the baptismal prayer. Once again he held his breath, but this time it was for real. The water rushed over his body, and then he rose up from the water. He took his first breath and smiled. He knew that Heavenly Father was happy with him for trying his best.

I must respectfully disagree with a statement in the article “Mission Field Inside the Grand Canyon” by Cal Decker in the May New Era. The article states on page 31: “Mules and horses are valued in Supai because they carry in tourists, groceries, feed, and even the U.S. mail. The only other way into the 500-acre Havasupai Reservation is by helicopter.” In the summer of 1972 I hiked down the Supai trail with a group of LDS students. In Supai we had an inspiring testimony meeting and short Sunday School with the missionaries living in Supai. The hike down to Supai was pleasant, but the upward climb was breathtaking (physically as well as figuratively). The trip was an experience of a lifetime, and I will never forget the simple, humble faith of the Supai Indians. I found the article in the New Era to be well-written and thought-provoking.
David B. CrippsProvo, Utah

Carrie Hamer, 16, of the Bloomington Ward, Minneapolis Minnesota Stake, sounds almost like she’s telling a mystery story.
“In the corner of the pastor’s house in Albig, West Germany, there were these extremely old books, hundreds of years old. I was amazed that he even let us go through them. We could see right away that the records in them took our family back six or seven generations, and so we were copying as fast as we could. When he went in the other room, we kneeled and prayed that he wouldn’t get irritated and make us leave, and that we could finish quickly.
“Way off in the corner we saw a copy machine. It was really strange, because this house was ancient. But he let us use these old books and put them right on the copy machine. We copied 118 pages, about 1,500 names, half of them our direct ancestors with their complete families. Without the photocopier, I think we’d still be scribbling notes, and who knows how many errors we could have made.”