Gospel Story Finder

When it came time to plan youth conference, leaders of a stake in northern Utah, USA, asked the youth what they thought would make it memorable.
After some discussion, their answer was simple: “We want to serve!” They decided they wanted to make a difference where they live. They wanted to help the hungry and the homeless, the lonely and the elderly. They also wanted to hold workshops in which professionals could help people struggling with serious issues like suicide and depression.
They adopted the theme, “You Love, You Serve.” And during the three-day youth conference, they did just that.

“Don’t scuff your new school shoes, Richy,” said Mother as the family left the meetinghouse. “Remember, they must last until spring.”
Richy liked to walk home from Sunday School alone. He enjoyed strolling across the green meadow and by the majestic cottonwood trees that grew beside the river. The wide cottonwood leaves reminded him of flakes of gold in the autumn sunlight.
Richy walked along the bank beside the whispering water, thinking how refreshing it would feel to his burning feet jammed inside the stiff leather shoes.
However, Father had often told Richy not to go wading on the Sabbath. “It isn’t a day for pleasure. The Lord gave us this day to rest and to count our blessings,” he would say.
Cold water on my hot feet would certainly be a blessing, Richy reasoned. But even as he sat down to remove his shoes and stockings, the boy was sure that his father would not approve of him cooling his feet in the water on the Sabbath.
Still, he rolled up his trousers and put his socks inside the new shoes before placing them carefully beneath some willows in a thicket. Then he ran down to the riverbank and splashed into the water.
Richy enjoyed the grainy feel of wet sand squishing between his toes and the push of chilly water against his ankles. But finally the lowering sun warned him that he had waded too long and would surely be late for dinner.
Out of the river, Richy ran back to the meadow. The summery feel of green grass under his feet was a delight, but he knew that he had to put on his new shoes again and hurry home.
“But where are my shoes?” Richy asked himself in panic. The willows all looked alike. He searched everywhere, but his shoes were nowhere to be found. Finally, he gave up and slowly started home, feeling more worried with every step. He decided that early the next morning he would carefully search for his new shoes in all the willows along the riverbank.
When I get home, Richy thought, I’ll walk quietly through the kitchen and into my bedroom. If I put on my old shoes, Father might not notice.
But later when the screen door slipped out of his hand and banged shut, the sound brought Richy’s parents into the kitchen.
“Where have you been?” his mother asked. “We’ve been so worried about you.”
His father started to talk but stopped when he looked down at Richy’s bare feet. “Young man, where are your shoes?” he demanded.
Richy’s heart was pounding, but he just couldn’t tell his parents that he had carelessly lost the shoes, bought with money saved a few coins at a time in Mother’s cedar handkerchief box. Without stopping to think, he blurted out, “Some boy stole them.”
Father looked upset. “You mean to tell me that a boy knocked you down and took your shoes?”
“Oh, no,” Richy said quickly. “My feet were so hot that I took my shoes off while I rested under a tree. I guess I feel asleep. When I woke up the shoes were gone.”
His father asked, “Do you have any idea who took them?”
Richy felt a painful tightness in his chest. Never before had he told his parents a lie. But if I say I waded in the river and that I couldn’t find my shoes, he thought, Father will be furious with me for breaking the Sabbath, and Mother will be upset because I was careless.
So Richy’s answer was, “No, I don’t know who it could be.”
Mother was puzzled. “But who in this town would steal your new shoes?” she asked.
“We must find out. We can’t afford another pair. Besides, whoever took them should be punished,” Father declared.
“Well,” Mother said, “you must eat your dinner now. Afterward we’ll talk about what to do.”
Richy was too upset to eat. “I’m not hungry,” he said. “I’ll just go in and put on my old shoes.”
Because Richy had disobeyed his father, lost his shoes, and then lied about it, he experienced a feeling far more painful than the pinching new shoes had ever caused.
Later, sitting quietly with his family before sacrament meeting began, Richy saw a new family from Denmark, looking lonely and shy, enter the meetinghouse. Richy thought, It must be very hard to come to a strange country. I’m sure life here is much different than it is in their homeland when they don’t know our language very well.
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard his mother whisper to his father, “Look!”
Richy looked too. A tall boy came down the aisle with his parents. He wore a brown shirt, trousers too short for his long legs, and Richy’s new shoes!
Richy felt as though he were being held tightly by the throat because he couldn’t swallow. All through the meeting he kept his eyes lowered, too miserable to listen to the speakers.
After the closing prayer, when everyone stood up to leave, Richy’s father said sternly, “Son, come with me.”
Together they went to Bishop Feldon. “Bishop, I’m afraid a problem has come up,” Father said gravely. “We must ask you to speak to Brother Pedersen before he goes home. Richy’s shoes were stolen this morning and the Pedersen boy is wearing them.”
Richy’s legs felt like quivering twigs as he followed his father and the bishop outside. They waited beside the steps where he looked up at the sky. He thought it should be a shimmering, cheerful blue, but it only looked empty. Crimson leaves on the trees were just leaves. Richy discovered that nothing in the world outside looked right when he felt so wrong inside.
Richy glanced quickly at Lars and his family, who were stopped by Bishop Feldon. The tall boy smiled timidly as though he were saying, “I am very lonely in this strange country. Will you be my friend?”
Richy tried to smile back, but he couldn’t. Instead, tears came to his eyes.
“Richy,” his father said, “I want you to tell the bishop and Brother Pedersen and Lars about your shoes being stolen.”
Richy took a deep breath. He had never felt so awful in his life. Finally he swallowed what seemed like a big lump in his throat and then in a steady voice he said, “My shoes weren’t stolen, Father. Lars just found them.”
Surprised and confused, Father asked, “What do you mean, son? How could he just find them?”
In a trembling voice Richy explained, “My feet hurt so I took off the shoes to wade in the river. I hid them in some willows. But I couldn’t remember where and Lars must have come along and found them.”
Father sighed deeply. “Richy, you broke the Sabbath and that is a sorrow to me, but the lie you told has made other people worried and unhappy too.”
Richy lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Father. I didn’t know a lie could make me feel so miserable and cause other people so much trouble.”
His father nodded. “I guess you didn’t, however a lie always causes trouble.” Then he turned to Brother Pedersen and said, “I’m very sorry that this whole thing happened.” But the pain inside Richy grew worse as he saw the disappointment on Lars’ face when he realized that the sturdy shoes he was wearing so proudly must be given back to Richy.
The older men continued to talk, but Lars walked over and sat down on the grass. He gestured for Richy to sit beside him. Sadly he unlaced the shoes, took them off, and held them out to Richy. Then Lars pointed to his right foot. His big toe stuck through a hole in his stocking.
Lars began to laugh. The sound was so bright and happy that Richy laughed, too, and the hurt inside him melted a little.
Father will punish me, he thought, and he should. To tell a lie is very bad and I will try never to do it again.
Gradually the hurt inside Richy was lessened when he remembered that even though he had done wrong, he could be forgiven.
Again Lars laughed, wiggling his big toe, and Richy laughed with him because the sky was blue again, the leaves were golden red in the sunlight, and he had a new friend.

The youth of this Church are incredible. In a difficult world, they take upon themselves the name of Christ. In Heber City, Utah, a public meeting was held to discuss the details of a temple planned for construction. Three hundred youth filled the adjoining park to show their support for the proposed temple. One young man, speaking to government leaders in an open forum, courageously explained, “I am hoping to be married in this temple. [The temple will help] me to keep myself clean and pure.” Another described the temple as a symbol of light and hope. Young men and women of the Church throughout the world are embracing the name of Jesus Christ.

The story is told of a king who was choosing between two drivers for his coach. He ordered each of them to drive his coach down a steep, winding road cut into a high cliff.
The first driver came down slowly, hugging the wall of the cliff. The second driver demonstrated great talent and ability. He raced down the mountain, with the coach so close at times that half the wheel was off the edge of the cliff.
The king was very thoughtful, then wisely chose the first man to drive his coach. It is best to stay on the safe side of things.

The Lodi 2nd Ward Primary, Lodi California Stake, celebrated President Thomas S. Monson’s birthday with service. Each child completed an act of service and then filled out a card describing their service. Some children helped their family take food to a neighbor, others shared school supplies with kids that didn’t have any, and lots of kids helped around the house. These cards were sent to President Monson for his birthday. They also had a birthday party and made the rainbow cake President Monson’s mother made for him when he was a boy, featured in the August 2012 issue of the Friend.

Katie Lewis is my neighbor. Her father, Randy, is my bishop; her mother, Melanie, is a saint. And her older brother, Jimmie, is battling leukemia.

Sister Lewis recently recounted for me the unspeakable fear and grief that came to their family when Jimmie’s illness was diagnosed. She spoke of the tears and the waves of sorrow that any mother would experience with a prognosis as grim as Jimmie’s was. But like the faithful Latter-day Saints they are, the Lewises turned to God with urgency and with faith and with hope. They fasted and prayed, prayed and fasted. And they went again and again to the temple.

One day Sister Lewis came home from a temple session weary and worried, feeling the impact of so many days—and nights—of fear being held at bay only by monumental faith.

As she entered her home, four-year-old Katie ran up to her with love in her eyes and a crumpled sheaf of papers in her hand. Holding the papers out to her mother, she said enthusiastically, “Mommy, do you know what these are?”

Sister Lewis said frankly her first impulse was to deflect Katie’s zeal and say she didn’t feel like playing just then. But she thought of her children—all her children—and the possible regret of missed opportunities and little lives that pass too swiftly. So she smiled through her sorrow and said, “No, Katie. I don’t know what they are. Please tell me.”

“They are the scriptures,” Katie beamed back, “and do you know what they say?”

Sister Lewis stopped smiling, gazed deeply at this little child, knelt down to her level, and said, “Tell me, Katie. What do the scriptures say?”

“They say, ‘Trust Jesus.’” And then she was gone.

Sister Lewis said that as she stood back up, holding a fistful of her four-year-old’s scribbling, she felt near-tangible arms of peace encircle her weary soul and a divine stillness calm her troubled heart.

Katie Lewis, “angel and minister of grace,” I’m with you. In a world of some discouragement, sorrow, and overmuch sin, in times when fear and despair seem to prevail, when humanity is feverish with no worldly physicians in sight, I too say, “Trust Jesus.” Let him still the tempest and ride upon the storm. Believe that he can lift mankind from its bed of affliction, in time and in eternity.

Opening night—that magic moment when the lights are dimmed and the audience is waiting for the first note of music.
It is just such an opening night for a group nervously waiting to go on stage, but instead of a cast of adults, the actors and stagehands are children ages 6 to 12. Their director and the mastermind behind the idea of presenting a full-fledged musical at the elementary school level is 15-year-old Braden Bell. And now, at opening night, he is giving last minute instructions to his cast, offering encouragement, and speaking into his headset, “Let’s go! All lights out.”
A youngster with a headset larger than his head looks at the clipboard he carries and flips the switch to start the show. A minute later, “Mary Poppins” walks down the aisle at the Knowlton Elementary School in Farmington, Utah.
When Braden approached his favorite elementary school teacher with the idea of producing Mary Poppins, at the school, she agreed. They approached the principal with the idea, and he gave them permission to use the school facilities. “I prayed a lot about doing the play and I always had a good feeling about it, so I knew it was the right thing to do,” Braden said. But even he was not prepared for the 350 students who auditioned to be in it. He had no idea that there would be such an interest in the production.
Managing a cast of first through sixth graders takes a lot of time and a lot of diplomacy. Braden organized mothers, fathers, and other students into committees to help him. This night the audience can see that the production is full of his imagination. He has taken simple things and solved set design problems. The toys in the bedroom were wired so that stage crew could just pull strings and have the toys magically “spring” onto their shelves.
“I can almost sit back and watch the play and be objective about it because I know that we had our Heavenly Father’s help,” Braden said. “I was just the tool he used to put it all together.”
Braden is no stranger to the stage. He started taking creative drama classes when he was nine. He was a member of the Academy of Gifted and Talented Entertainers sponsored by the local school district. In high school he was part of the drama team putting on plays and musicals. While he was heading up the Mary Poppins production, he was simultaneously rehearsing for a school play and his ward’s road show. “That was one of the happiest times of my life. I just went from one rehearsal to another.”
A burst of applause signals that the play is over. The curtain calls begin. At first people are just applauding, but then they stand on their feet clapping wildly. Finally Braden comes onto the stage. The audience knows that they have witnessed a small miracle and clap louder.
The crowd leaves and the auditorium is again in semidarkness when Braden finally finishes putting the last chairs away. He looks around and can still see the people, the performers, the magic. This is theater, a lot of hard work for that one moment when the lights dim to a golden glow and someone whispers, “Let’s go.”

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

The basic idea behind using tree ring data to figure out what the climate was like in years past is that a good growing year produces a wide annual growth ring, while a bad year produces a narrow one. This is especially true for trees that do not receive enough rain and that are consequently always under stress. The proper study of rings from several trees in such an area can be used to determine past patterns of rainfall, temperature, and basic types of weather patterns. In fact, from a computerized study of nearly 1,000 living trees at 65 locations in western North America, scientists at the Tree-Ring Laboratory have prepared maps of these computations for each season of the year across the United States since 1600.

History was made in a small yet significant way in the town of Sale on the southeast coast of Australia. The first early-morning seminary class was held under the direction of Sister Rita Brown with five students in attendance.
All the students are accomplished in their school activities. Jamie Cockburn has not missed a single seminary class and serves as the teachers quorum president. Nicci Daymond was the class president and received a trophy for being the most determined player in football at his school. Lynda Brown has won swimming medals and placed in a math competition. She is active in drama as is her sister, Lee. Lee Brown serves as branch chorister and as a counselor in the Primary. She has won medals in sports and in drama.

Seminary students in the Capitol Ward, Annandale Virginia Stake, had the memorable experience of assisting at the prededication activities of the new Washington Temple. Their duties were varied. Some of the young people were ushers, elevator operators, parking attendants, and errand runners. Many helped tourists in wheelchairs.
It was a special, spiritual feeling to help in the house of the Lord, and it was a thrill to hear the comments of the visitors as they viewed the magnificent temple.

Oh, wow! It’s an email from my second-cousin Miranda!
We were good friends until her family moved away and we lost touch. But she found me.
She lives in Australia now. …
… has twins Matt’s age. …
And … no way!
Their names are Max and Mindy.
Wow! Australia! Twins. Max and Mindy? Wonder if they have a kangaroo.
Can we email them back?
Do we have more cousins we don’t know about? In Japan? Mexico?
Hey, there’s a good Sunday activity! We’ll go online to FamilySearch.org and learn more about our family.
England? Antarctica?
Maybe I can learn which came first—the rubber chicken or the rubber egg.
What can you learn about your family?

Megan yelled at Lauren for always winning the math game. Lauren yelled back but then apologized, forgave Megan, and helped her so she could win, too.

Some years ago I coached a high school basketball team through a rather unusual season. The season began with a number of disappointing losses. Some of the fans and townspeople didn’t make a secret of their unhappiness over the team’s failures. There was considerable public comment, and it was a challenging time for members of the team. Several of them finally became discouraged and withdrew from the team. Those who remained didn’t lose faith in themselves or in their coach. The rough going seemed to be an incentive for them to try even harder.

At mid-season the team began to win their games. They qualified for the district tournament and surprised everyone there by winning a place in the state play-offs. To the amazement of everyone, they went on to win the state championship—the first ever to be won by that school!

Following the celebration and the awarding of trophies after the championship game, I drove several of the team members back to our city. There was silence during much of the ride as we each reflected on the incredible outcome of our season’s efforts. Finally, one of the young men spoke. (He had been honored for being one of the outstanding players in the tournament.) “Coach,” he said, “I think we were supposed to win tonight.”

I was curious to know what had prompted this conclusion. “Why do you think we were supposed to win?” I asked.

His response was simple and direct—and I will never forget its impact. “Because we paid the price,” he said.

Indeed they had, and I am sure the lessons learned by those young men during that eventful year have been valuable to them throughout their lives.

On Friday, May 30, Elder and Sister Kearon assisted Primary children in packing hygiene kits for less-fortunate children at the Las Piñas Stake Center. Elder Kearon shared that he was “very grateful to see such wonderful children showcase values of service,” and expressed hope that “more children of our church around the world are able to help and give that service to more people.

Those words brought back memories to nine-year-old Natalie Sumagpao: “I remembered that one Christmas, my family and I drove around to give food to kids on the streets. I’m grateful to be able to meet Elder and Sister Kearon, guiding us through service and bringing us closer to Jesus Christ.”

I prepared myself for the October 2022 general conference by reading about the Atonement of Jesus Christ in the Book of Mormon and in the Old Testament.
During conference, President Russell M. Nelson spoke to us and testified about the importance of the temple.1 In the temple, eternal blessings are promised, and a beautiful spirit is felt when you go there.
There isn’t a temple in Nicaragua yet, but one has been announced. I hope I can listen to President Nelson’s words and go to the temple when it is finished.
As I watched conference, I felt the Spirit testifying that I was in the right place. I felt like my heart was filled with the love of God.
Carlos M., Nicaragua

Upon completing my mission, countless blessings such as entering the new and everlasting covenant of marriage, serving in the missionary training center and the temple, and having an eternal family served as evidence of the fulfillment of the plan of salvation in my life, as well as in the lives of my wife and children. Being able to baptize my mother and seeing my older sister join the Church in the same year, 2023, attested to me of the truth that Heavenly Father always pours His blessings and fulfills the promises He makes to His covenant-keeping children.

I finally came to grips with what I had done to Bertha one Easter when I was studying about the atonement of Christ. How grateful I am to the Saviour for his sacrifice and for the realization that through his wonderful gift I can finally lay that burden down and find peace and forgiveness—not that I will forget, but that I can now use the lesson to improve my life and bless others.
Because of Bertha, I have never again knowingly been unkind to anyone, and I have tried to teach my children the same. I have a special place in my heart for those who don’t seem to fit in, for those who are lonely and forgotten. Because of Bertha it is easier for me to see beyond the surface and understand the heart of those I meet. I have tried to make it up to her by the way I treat others, but I will always wish that I could see her and say, “I’m sorry, Bertha.”

We had the blessing of having children. A daughter, the first child, continues to be an enormous blessing in our lives. A couple of years later a son we named Richard was born. A few years later a daughter was born. She died after living only a few minutes.
Our son, Richard, was born with a heart defect. We were told that unless that could be cured, there was little probability that he would live more than two or three years. This was so long ago that techniques now used to repair such defects were unknown. We had the blessing of having a place where doctors agreed to attempt to perform the needed surgery. The surgery had to be done while his little heart was beating.
The surgery was performed just six weeks after the birth and death of our baby daughter. When the operation finished, the principal surgeon came in and said it was a success. And we thought, “How wonderful! Our son will have a strong body, be able to run and walk and grow!” We expressed deep gratitude to the Lord. Then about 10 minutes later, the same doctor came in with an ashen face and told us, “Your son has died.” Apparently the shock of the operation was more than his little body could endure.
Later, during the night, I embraced my wife and said to her, “We do not need to worry, because our children were born in the covenant. We have the assurance that we will have them with us in the future. Now we have a reason to live extremely well. We have a son and a daughter who have qualified to go to the celestial kingdom because they died before the age of eight.” That knowledge has given us great comfort. We rejoice in the knowledge that all seven of our children are sealed to us for time and all eternity.

Seth loved going to church. He enjoyed singing in Primary and learning about Jesus. Seth knew attending church was important. It was one way to show Heavenly Father how thankful he was for the gospel.
One Sunday morning, Seth was getting dressed for church. Mom and Dad appeared in the doorway.
“May we talk to you, Seth?” Dad asked as he and Mom sat down on the bed.
Seth finished buttoning his shirt. “Sure.”
“Do you remember how far Dad has to drive to get to work?” Mom asked.
“Yes, it takes forever,” Seth said.
“Mom and I have been praying about it,” Dad said, “and we’ve decided it’s time for us to move closer to my job.”
“Where is our new house going to be?” Seth asked. “Will I be able to ride my bike to Aunt Spring’s house?” Aunt Spring lived just a few blocks away, and Seth couldn’t wait until he was old enough to ride over to play with his cousins.
“No,” Dad said. “I’m sorry. Our new house will be too far away for that, but our family and friends can come visit us and we can visit them.”
“Oh,” Seth said quietly.
“This will be a big move,” Mom said. “You’ll make new friends, and we’ll live in a new neighborhood. It’s important for our family so that Dad can be home more.”
Seth knew his parents wanted the best for him and his little brothers. “I guess it’s all right if we move.”
Dad gave him a big hug. “We’re glad you agree.”
Several months later, Seth’s family began packing boxes. Seth was excited. His new house had a big backyard, and there was a playground down the street. Seth was also looking forward to going to kindergarten.
Just one thing worried Seth. How would he learn about Jesus? They would live too far away for him to go to church.
“What’s wrong, Seth?” Mom asked, noticing the gloomy look on his face.
“I don’t want to move anymore,” Seth said as his eyes filled with tears.
Mom put her arms around Seth. “I know it’s hard to move away from your friends and cousins.”
“It’s not just that. How will we get to church?” Seth asked.
“Our new church will be right down the street,” Mom said.
“But I don’t want a new church, Mom. I like our church.” Seth knew there were a lot of good churches, but he knew The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was the only true church.
Mom smiled. “After we move, we’ll go to a new building on Sundays. We’ll have new teachers and meet new people, but it will still be The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. And we’ll learn the very same lessons.”
Seth smiled. He was happy he could still go to the same church and learn about Jesus.
Soon Seth and his family were busy unpacking boxes in their new house. Seth picked out the clothes he wanted to wear for church the next morning.
“Are you sure church is going to be the same?” Seth asked Mom.
“Absolutely,” Mom said. “Don’t worry, Seth. When we get to church tomorrow, listen for the Spirit to tell you if we’re at the right church.”
Seth awoke early the next morning, excited to go to Primary. He asked Heavenly Father to help him know if he was at the right church. Then, Seth got ready to go.
At church, Seth heard someone playing a familiar song on a piano. Seth felt a warm, happy feeling. He was glad to still be able to attend the true church, even after moving far away.