Gospel Story Finder

Malo e lelei! I’m Lui, and I shine my light by sharing what I have with others.
I live on a big island in Tonga. I have six sisters and four brothers, and I live close to the Nuku’alofa Tonga Temple.
We have many beautiful plants and animals on our island. I’m in class four at the Ocean of Light Primary School, and science is my favorite subject.
My father grows crops, so we have plenty to eat. But many widows (women whose husbands have died) and other families don’t have their own crops. So my parents take them some of ours. I like going along to help!
The widows we visit use coconut husks to make fires to cook their food. When we take food to them, I always remind my parents to take coconut husks too. I help load the husks into the van and unload them when we get to the widows’ houses.
Heavenly Father gives me great blessings when I help others—not blessings of money but blessings of wisdom and knowledge. I always want to help and share what I have with others.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Betsy shouted, bounding down the stairs two at a time with hair flying and eyes shining.
“How’s my favorite seven-year-old?” boomed Daddy in his jolly voice. “What has you all in a tizzy?”
“Guess what!” said Betsy. “Mrs. Billings, my teacher, put up a great big paper tree trunk on the wall. Every time somebody does something good and receives a compliment, he gets to put a branch with his name on it on the tree.”
“Sounds interesting,” said Daddy. “Did you get a compliment today?”
“No, but Toby did. He washed all the colored chalk off the desks. I sure hope I get a compliment tomorrow.”
At school the next day Patricia got a compliment for erasing all the chalkboards, and Matt got a compliment for doing his best writing. Betsy did not get a compliment.
The following day started out no better. When Betsy leaned back in her chair to stretch, she lost her balance and fell over with a loud crash.
At lunchtime she accidentally knocked over Ronnie’s milk, spilling it into his lap.
“I’ll never get a compliment this way,” she muttered.
At the end of the day Mrs. Billings passed out some math tests the children had done the day before.
“Boys and girls, only one person got a hundred percent on the math test. Congratulations, Betsy! Come up and get a branch to put on the Compliment Tree.”
“Oh, boy!” Betsy squealed.
After school she ran home as fast as she could, her math test clutched tightly in one fist. “Guess what, Mom! Guess what!” Betsy breathlessly poured out her good news.
“That’s great, honey!” said Mom, giving Betsy a hug. “I’m proud of you!”
Later that evening, as Betsy gazed happily at her math test with the gold star on it, her eyes stopped at the answer to one of the problems. “Oh, no!” she gasped. “Look, Daddy! I made a mistake! See?”
“Well, it looks like you have a decision to make, Betsy,” said Daddy.
“But I don’t want to lose my compliment!” Betsy wailed.
“You’re old enough to know what’s right, Betsy,” Daddy said. He put his arm around her and added, “If I know my girl, she’ll make the right choice.”
The next day Betsy walked to school very slowly. “I wish it were Saturday,” she sighed. When she got to school, she looked for a very long time at the Compliment Tree and the branch with her name on it. Sadly, she took the branch down and walked up to the teacher’s desk.
“Mrs. Billings,” she whispered.
“What is it, Betsy?” asked Mrs. Billings.
“Well … I mean … well …” Betsy gulped, took a deep breath, and blurted out the whole story. “Here,” she said, and she placed the branch on Mrs. Billings’s desk.
“Thank you, Betsy,” Mrs. Billings said.
At the end of the day, Mrs. Billings rose from her desk. “I have an announcement to make,” she began.
The children sat up straight in their chairs and waited expectantly—all except Betsy, who was too sad to want to hear who received a branch for the Compliment Tree that day.
But suddenly she realized that Mrs. Billings was talking about her!
“… and Betsy has earned two compliments today: one for finding a mistake that I missed on her math test, and one for having the courage to point it out to me. Betsy, come up and choose two branches. You may place them anywhere you wish on the tree.”
As Betsy went up to choose her two branches, she thought happily, Yesterday morning I had no compliments, and now I have two!

The leading association in French Polynesia to assist jobless people will be benefitting from a set of self-reliance courses developed by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
In a meeting earlier this year, Marshall Raihauti, project manager and educator for Te U-irau, met with Manea Tuahu, national director of self-reliance for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in French Polynesia, to talk about their partnership.
“The people we work with often lack confidence and really have no plans for the future,” said Marshall.
Showing his Church self-reliance course textbooks with some delight, he continued, “I had the opportunity to attend a Church-sponsored self-reliance course in Punaauia in 2018 and was impressed that the program first helps people to identify their personal issues through a spiritual process.
“My motivation is to create that same turning point in them, as I have experienced it. And you can achieve it with the Spirit; that is at the heart of your empowering programs.”
He continued, “We have the expertise, we have the material, the financial resources and the appropriate training. But we are missing something that only your programs can provide. You can touch them spiritually. The Latter-day Saints have the magic that we don’t have. This is the Spirit of the Lord. It is what triggers the change of heart. And that’s the most important.”
Averii Nollemberger, coordinator for Te U’irau in Pirae, Faaa and Moorea job and training centers, said: “I liked that the person is at the center of change and that the principle of individual responsibility prevails.”
Manea presented the resources of the Church with courses such as “Starting and Growing My Business” and “Personal Finances.”
He explained the concept of self-reliance: “In the Church, self-reliance is not just about having a good job, food reserves, or money in the bank. It is the ability to provide for the spiritual and temporal necessities of life. It is a complementary, inseparable whole.
“When people become independent, they have more capacity to help others, and serving others is at the heart of self-reliance.”
Marshall concluded, “Despite all the support that we in the government have put in place, a majority of our job seekers continue to be dependent, unable to get long-term employment. What’s missing is the change of heart. I know that when you put God first, the doors begin to open.”

Cathy has always found time to accomplish her goals. She has helped with political campaigns and even served as a page in her state legislature. She attended seminary for four years. (“It really helped me gain a testimony,” said Cathy.) She took modeling classes for several years, and her teacher encouraged her to enter the Miss Teen North Carolina Hemisphere competition.
“I won the state competition, so I competed in the nationals, which were held in Philadelphia and included the western hemisphere—Guam, Canada, the U.S., and the Bahamas,” Cathy said.
“I learned that it wasn’t that important to be beautiful. I just wanted to put on my jeans and be myself, but for 24 hours a day I was there fixing my hair and putting on lipstick, and I’m just not used to doing that much. You couldn’t go out of your door unless you were all dressed up, and that’s just not for me.
“I really enjoyed entertaining others for the competition, though, and it helped me develop a talent I didn’t think I had. I’d always taken ballet, but I realized I needed another talent to win the state competition. I told my mom, ‘I’ve got to sing!’ She smiled and said, ‘You can’t sing.’ And I said, ‘Well, I’m just going to have to learn.’ So I took lessons and practiced, and I won the contest. I realize now that I can sing and not be embarrassed. I met some nice people in the pageant, too.”

Last year was a scary time for me. I had just entered Young Women, and I was going to attend a new ward. I worried that I wouldn’t make any friends, and since I was a new member of the Church, I didn’t understand much about Young Women.
I remember the first day I went to Young Women in my new ward. I went to opening exercises and sat down by myself because I didn’t know anyone. This made me feel uneasy and alone. Then I looked up, and there was a young woman standing in front of me. She said, “Hello, Cecilia” and sat down next to me. This made me feel great, and I wasn’t scared anymore.
It was from her example that I learned what fellowshipping is all about. This has helped me to reach out to other new or lonely people who need their spirits lifted.

When I was a young boy, our family was terribly poor. Father had no job because he was going through law school at the University of Utah. He had a wife and three young sons. Grandfather and Grandmother knew that we would have no Christmas if we did not come down to the farm in Millard County. So all of our family took the train from Salt Lake to Leamington, Utah. Where the money came for the tickets, I will never know.

Grandfather and Uncle Esdras met us at the railroad crossing in Leamington with a team of big horses to pull the open sleigh through the deep snow to Oak City. It was so cold that the huge horses had icy chin whiskers, and you could see their breath. I remember how old Jack Frost nipped my nose, and the extreme cold made it hard to breathe. Grandmother had heated some rocks and put them in the bottom of the sleigh to help keep us warm. We were wrapped and tucked into some heavy camp quilts with just our noses sticking out. Accompanied by the tinkle of bells on leather straps on the harnesses of the horses, we musically traveled from Leamington over the 10 miles (16 kilometers) to Oak City, where our beloved grandfather and grandmother lived. So many dear ones were there that we could hardly wait to arrive. When we got there it was warm and wonderful and exciting.

In the corner of the living room was the Christmas tree, a cedar cut from the hillside pasture. It was already partially decorated by Mother Nature with little berries that helped give it a strong smell. Our decorations were popcorn strings made by pushing a needle and thread through popcorn. The strings had to be handled carefully or they would break and strew popcorn all over the floor.

We also had paper chains to put on the tree, made by cutting up old Sears and Montgomery Ward catalogs, with the paper links pasted together with flour paste. The sticky flour paste got all over our hands, faces, and clothes. I wonder why they didn’t put sugar in it! With cream it could also have been served for mush.

I do not remember any presents under the tree. Under the tree were popcorn balls made with strong, homemade molasses. When we bit into the popcorn balls, it felt like they were biting back.

On Christmas Eve we all gathered around the woodstove, enjoying the warm comfort of the fire and the pleasant aroma of the burning cedar wood. One of the uncles gave the opening prayer. We sang carols and hymns. One of our aunts read of the birth of Jesus and of the “good tidings of great joy” (Luke 2:10). “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:11). Grandfather and Grandmother then told us how much they loved us.

The next day was Christmas, and we had a glorious dinner. But before we ate, we all got down on our knees for family prayer. I was so hungry. Grandfather prayed for the longest time. You see, he had much to pray for. He prayed for moisture because there was a drought in the land, and the crops had been meager. The fall grain had been planted in the dusty ground. What harvest there was could not be sold for much because of the low prices caused by the Great Depression. The taxes on the farm were delinquent because there was no money to pay them. He also prayed for our large family, his cattle and horses, pigs and chickens, turkeys—he prayed over everything.

During Grandfather’s long prayer, my youngest uncle became restless and gave me an irreverent pinch, hoping that I would shout to make things more exciting.

For dinner we had a huge tom turkey stuffed with delicious dressing. There was no celery in the dressing because we had only the ingredients that could be produced on the farm. But the dressing had plenty of bread, sage, sausage, and onions. There was an abundance of potatoes and gravy and pickles, beets, beans, and corn. Because Grandfather could trade wheat to the miller for flour, there was always fresh baked bread. To stretch the food, we were encouraged to take one bite of bread for every bite of other kinds of food. We had chokecherry jelly and ground-cherry jam. For dessert we had pumpkin and gooseberry pie. It was all delicious.

As I look back on that special Christmas over a lifetime, the most memorable part was that we did not think about presents. There may have been some handmade mittens or a scarf given, but I do not recall any presents. Presents are wonderful, but I found that they are not essential to our happiness. I could not have been happier. There were no presents that could be held and fondled and played with, but there were many wonderful gifts that could not be seen but could be felt.

There was the gift of boundless love. We knew God loved us. We all loved each other. We did not miss the presents because we had all these glorious gifts. It made me feel so wonderful and secure to belong and to be part of all that went on. We wanted nothing else. We did not miss the presents at all. I never remember a happier Christmas in my childhood.

When our youngest daughter, Berkeley, was little, I started using reading glasses?the kind that zoom in and magnify everything. One day, as we sat together reading a book, I looked at her with love but also sadness because, suddenly, she seemed more grown up. I thought, “Where has the time gone? She’s so big!”
As I lifted my reading glasses to wipe away a tear, I realized, “Oh wait—she’s not bigger; it’s just these glasses! Never mind!”

On occasion, courage means to be with and stand by our friends. Other times it means that we have to stand a little apart, not judging them or feeling superior but choosing the right by doing something different.
When I was in junior high school, my friends were planning to go and throw eggs at cars during Halloween. I had good friends, but I knew that having fun at the expense of other people, including their property, wasn’t right.
“You know, this really isn’t what we want to do,” I said. But they were set on it, so I said, “Well, I’m just going home.”
I walked home that night, and my parents asked me why I was home early. When I told them, I knew my parents and Heavenly Father approved of what I had done—and it made me feel good to do the right.

About that time I was waiting in a doctor’s office, and I noticed that the young lady seated next to me had opened a book with a blue cover. The book’s text was written in columns like the Bible. I was curious to know if it was the Bible, but I also wanted to get back to the comic book I had been reading.
I directed my eyes to the blue book and read a word at the top of the page: Alma. I made an effort to remember that name from my Bible reading, then went back to my comic book. But the blue book continued to attract me, and once again I directed my eyes to that mysterious book.
When the young lady noticed my interest, I asked if the book was the Bible. She answered no and asked me what church I belonged to. I told her none, because I didn’t know which one was true.
That night I couldn’t stop thinking about that strange book. I didn’t know its name, because the young lady had said only that it belonged to the Mormon Church. I told my friend Ghersi about it, and he offered to get me a copy. Several weeks went by, and then one afternoon he handed me a book without a cover and with worn pages. All he said was, “Here’s the book.”
That afternoon I opened the book and read the testimony of Joseph Smith. I felt that it was what I had wanted to know; the feeling became stronger when I read about the visit of the angel Moroni. Unable to contain my excitement, I arose from my chair and shouted, “This is what I was looking for! Here is the truth!” I read the first chapters of 1 Nephi very slowly. I felt that I understood them as I had never understood a book before.

On the evening of October 26, 1973, two missionaries in Kanazawa, Japan, felt an unusual spirit of warmth and peace as they went from house-to-house. They walked into a small garden and rang the buzzer at the Aburantani home.
Two children, Yuka and Tadakatsu, opened the sliding door. They were surprised to see two tall young men there. Tadakatsu ran back into the dining room. “There are strangers at the door,” he cried.
His older sister, Yuka, said quietly, “I think they are Americans.”
The children’s mother went to the door. The missionaries explained they were representing The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and asked if they could tell her family about it. She talked with her husband, and the missionaries were invited to return.
Yuka and Tadakatsu were eager to help their family prepare for baptism.
The wonderful night of baptism finally arrived. Tadakatsu’s dark eyes shone with happiness as he watched his mother and father and sister. Now he is counting the days until he is old enough to be baptized too!

“Beth, come on! Mom’s ready to go!” Beth’s older sister, Rachel, said. She stood outside of their room, tapping her foot.
Beth tied a ribbon in her hair, just like the one Rachel wore. “Just a second,” she said. “Now I’m ready!”
The girls ran to the car, and Mom drove them to the church. Today was activity day, and all of the age groups were meeting together. Beth was excited to be with her big sister, but she was nervous too. What if she couldn’t do things as well as the older girls?
There were three activities for the day. First the girls learned about cleanliness and made bubble-bath jars.
“I’ve done this before,” Rachel whispered to Beth. “It’s easy.”
But it wasn’t easy for Beth. She kept spilling the bath salts on her shoes, and her jar was messier than Rachel’s.
Next they decorated journals. Beth drew red tulips on her journal cover. She smiled at her picture, but when she saw Rachel’s beautiful drawing of a fairy-tale castle, Beth covered her own artwork. Why couldn’t she be as talented as her sister? For a moment, she wished that she could be her sister.
After the girls finished their drawings, they had a devotional with Sister Foster. When Beth sat down, Rachel said, “Beth, your hair ribbon is loose. Do you want me to fix it for you?”
“OK,” Beth said, but that made her feel even worse. Rachel was perfect in everything. Beth couldn’t concentrate on the devotional because she was worrying about how she looked compared to Rachel.
After the devotional, Beth watched Rachel go up to Sister Foster.
“Thank you for your talk,” Rachel said. “I really liked what you said about how Heavenly Father loves us for just being who we are.”
Beth blinked. Was that what Sister Foster had said? She hadn’t been listening.
“You’re welcome,” Sister Foster said. “I think we all go through times when we feel we aren’t good enough, but Heavenly Father always loves us, even when we have room to grow.”
Beth thought about how her parents loved her and Rachel equally, even though she and Rachel looked different and had different talents. If her parents loved her that much, Heavenly Father must love her even more. He loved every girl in the room!
Beth remembered feeling Heavenly Father’s love after she was baptized. It had been like a warm blanket over her heart. She felt that way again as the Holy Ghost whispered to her that Heavenly Father loved her for who she was—His daughter. Beth decided that she didn’t want to compare herself with others anymore. She just wanted to keep feeling Heavenly Father’s love and sharing that love with other people instead of worrying so much about herself. It was a good feeling. Beth walked over to Rachel and threw her arms around her.
“Thanks for being my sister, Rachel,” she said. “I love you.”
Rachel was surprised, but she smiled. “I love you too, sis. Thanks for being who you are.”

The next year, Iris was born. Lyle said, “I thought of a lot of things, but other people had tried them and they didn’t work. I was in over my head. But I’m always in over my head. I found out that there is another way to have a robot ‘see’ other than using big, huge, complex computers. It was to simplify things. All the robot needs to recognize is one object—the floor. Anything that’s not the floor must be an obstacle.”

This time, Lyle knew what he needed to do to succeed. He kept meticulous records. He perfected his presentation. And he made sure Iris was working at her best. He knew his information backward and forward.

While at the international competition in Louisville, Kentucky, disaster struck. Iris’s eye—the digital camera—was damaged in shipping. An hour before his presentation, Lyle had the camera apart, working on it. “As soon as something goes wrong, especially at the science fair, there is no time for sitting back and wondering. You have to do something and do it now. No sense getting angry. It’s a waste of time. When the eye broke, I started diagnosing it. How am I going to fix it? How am I going to change my display? That’s one thing my dad teaches. You can’t be a victim. It’s up to you to make sure things are going right for you. Is your teacher a jerk? It doesn’t matter. It’s up to you to get a grade. You can’t leave it up to somebody else or put the blame on somebody else.”

This time Lyle and Iris took some honors. He won the prestigious U.S. Army Gold Medal for Science and Engineering. And he took second prize in the fair’s engineering division.

Jean A. Stevens, first counselor in the Primary general presidency, told a story about a boy who had missed the last bus of the day and was walking home (page 81). With many miles left to go, he got scared and knelt to pray. Minutes later, Sister Stevens was prompted by the Spirit to stop and help him. Can you think of times when Heavenly Father answered your prayers? How have you helped answer someone else’s prayer?

Recalling his childhood in the Church of England, Elder Cuthbert said, “I sang in the church choir in three services each Sunday. The choirmistress was a good teacher, and I learned to love the Psalms, which are songs of praise and thanksgiving to God. When I was eleven, the choirmistress went to Zululand, South Africa, as a missionary. Her example helped me become interested in missionary work at an early age.
“After I joined the Lord’s true Church, He called me as a district missionary, then as a stake missionary, and later as a mission president. Now, as a General Authority, I will always be a missionary. A Seventy is a special witness of Jesus Christ to all the world.
“I am sure that you Primary children know many missionaries, some perhaps in your own family. They are examples for you to follow; Jesus wants all of us to be missionaries. One of my favorite scriptures is in Matthew, when Jesus was instructing His apostles just before He ascended into heaven: ‘Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost’ (Matt. 28:19). He is saying the same to us today through His prophet, President Benson. Boys and girls, start preparing for your missions now—by study, by prayer, and by helping others.
“I have seen many examples of faith and courage among young missionaries in the Church. Ian Menzies, a missionary in Scotland, said, ‘I must finish my mission,’ even though he had a tumor on his brain. Through faith and determination and priesthood administration, he accomplished what others said was impossible. Peter Chaya, a missionary in Zimbabwe, Africa, fulfilled his mission on crutches. He had lost the use of both legs through polio when he was a child. Pip Lees served as a stake missionary in England. Her companion pushed her door to door in a wheelchair for two years.
“During December 1987, I had some Church assignments in Bolivia, a beautiful South American country where the Church is growing rapidly but where the people have very little. The Regional Representative, Elder Philip Kradolfer, accompanied me, and he brought a large suitcase full of toys. Just before Christmas each year, his children give up some of their toys to help the children living in the Altiplano, or high plateau region, of Bolivia. It was wonderful to see the children’s faces as they received a doll, a game, a book, or a purse. Jesus taught that it is better to give than to receive, and I am sure that you have felt the same happiness when you have been a secret helper.
“While serving in South America last year,” Elder Cuthbert recalled, “I met many people who had little to eat and hardly a roof over their heads. Many are hearing the gospel and are being baptized. The children are attending Primary and are preparing for missions, just like you.
“In your prayers, would you remember these boys and girls who have a very hard life? As you prayerfully express thanks for the blessings that you enjoy, fill yourself up with gratitude and let it overflow into service. As you help other children, you will not want so much for yourselves.”

On an early Monday morning, a group of willing volunteers gathered to help clean the Mount Timpanogos Utah Temple. Assignments were given, and as several volunteers and I followed our assigned supervisor, we quickly realized she was leading us to the celestial room.
When we entered the room, we immediately noticed that the huge, tiered chandelier which normally hung high above our heads had been lowered near the floor. Our responsibility was to clean it. This was no small task, since the chandelier consisted of thousands of individual crystals! Each person was given white gloves, and we were shown how to remove the dust by carefully rubbing every crystal one by one between our gloved fingers. The delicate process was very labor intensive, but we enthusiastically went to work.
Several hours later, the newly cleaned chandelier sparkled radiantly! After admiring its beauty, we began cleaning the smaller chandeliers in the celestial room.
Suddenly something astonishing happened! The morning sun rose over the eastern mountaintop, and its bright rays shone directly through the large round window in the celestial room at the perfect angle to illuminate the magnificent chandelier. Each shiny crystal caught the sunlight, and innumerable prisms of light spontaneously scattered everywhere! Brilliant rainbows streamed across the floor, ceiling, furniture, walls, and the people, and some beams even danced through the air! We were catching rainbows in our hands! It was spectacular!
I have often pondered on that unforgettable moment and have come to understand more clearly that the light makes all the difference! Like the crystals, when we receive the light of the Son and reflect it outward, His light is magnified, and the joyful effects are astonishing!

When twins James and Jeremy Ruesch were eight months old, their mother, Lisa, hurt her arm and was not able to care for the two energetic babies during the day while her husband was at work. When babysitters volunteered to help out until she healed, James and Jeremy were split up between two tenders. They screamed the entire time they were apart. Once back together, the babies were quiet and content. After that, Lisa never tried to separate her boys. For 19 years they have rarely been apart, and even then for no more than a day.
Now Jeremy and James are going their separate ways. They left on the same day for their respective mission fields: Jeremy to the Paraguay Asunción North Mission and James to the Argentina Rosario Mission. Getting to the point where each is prepared and enthusiastic to serve a mission is part of their life story.
James and Jeremy graduated from high school in Raleigh, North Carolina, but they can’t say Raleigh is their hometown. Their father is in the military, so they have had many hometowns as they have moved with him on his different postings. But wherever they have lived with their father, mother, and younger sister, Tori, they have set a fine example of Latter-day Saint values that has affected each school and each group of friends in every town where they have lived.
Their dad, Gary, says it has been one of their accomplishments to move into a new school and raise the level of behavior and language among their classmates.
At first glance, the Ruesch brothers seem identical, although they hate dressing the same. As a child, Jeremy fell against the edge of a table and ended up with a scar near his left eye. That’s one sure way of telling them apart, and they often catch people looking for the telltale scar. The other is that Jeremy is left-handed and James is right-handed. Their track coach, however, has taught them to use the same leading leg over the high hurdles, one of the track events in which they excel.
The ongoing joke is that Jeremy is the smart Ruesch and James is the athletic one. It’s funny because the difference in their straight-A grades is measured in 10ths, as is the difference in their race times on the track—differences that are hardly noticeable except to them.
Jeremy says, “We are so similar in behavior, in attitude, in common interests, in the way we react to the environment around us. I don’t think there are a lot of things I could distinguish between the two of us.”
James continues, “We are who we are because of each other. We’ve always had a good friend as well as a brother with the same values. That has helped when we’ve moved around.”
It helps, too, that their outgoing personalities ease the way in making new friends. And they’re not afraid to let their new friends know they are members of the Church.
“People are going to ask,” says Jeremy, “What is the difference between your church and my church? What do you guys believe? They’ve been told things about LDS people by their pastors and parents, but then they know us. And they know that we’re good kids, and they see the example we are at school and the decisions we make. They know some of the things they’ve been told can’t be true. It doesn’t fit us.”
James says, “People accept Jeremy and me and know our standards. We’re the Mormon twins. For example, we’re involved in a lot of athletics. In the locker room it can get kind of sensitive to the ears. Jeremy will say, ‘Hey, watch the Mormon ears.’ He says it in a joking manner but letting them know that it offends us, and that we don’t like hearing that kind of thing. After a while, people will say, ‘Sorry, forgot. Mormon ears.’”
Jeremy continues, “And pretty soon other friends say, when someone else is swearing or taking the Lord’s name in vain, ‘Hey, whoa, we’ve got Mormons around. Can’t say that around these guys.’”
Their friends learn that there are certain activities in which Jeremy and James won’t participate. If they suggest something to do, they might stop and say, “Well, the Ruesches can’t because they’re Mormon, so we’ll do something else.”
Day-to-day life offers opportunities for the Ruesches to teach. “When we get to know new people, they find out that we don’t drink ice tea,” says James. “Because we live in the South, they simply cannot believe we’ve never had tea, ever, not one sip.”
“They find it hard to believe that someone can have such strong convictions,” says Jeremy. “We have to explain that our beliefs are a part of our lives. Our values are a priority.”
Jeremy and James have a strong sense of individual worth, but as twins the whole idea of individuality is an interesting one for them to think about. When they are faced with temptations, they only have to glance at each other before one or the other will say what they are both thinking. They know they can rely on each other to make the right decisions.
“I don’t know if I really do feel like an individual,” says James. “Jeremy and I are best friends for life. I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve been apart for more than a day. We’re always together. Other guys can call up one friend, and the two of them will hang out. If it’s Jeremy and I, we have to call another friend to come and hang out with us.”
“We are who we are because of each other. Growing up, we’ve each had a great friend with the same values,” says James.
But what if you don’t have a twin to be there always supporting you and encouraging you to make the right decisions?
Jeremy and James have some advice, the same advice they give to their 12-year-old sister, Tori.
“I know if my sister picks good friends with good families, it will help. She’ll turn out better with the support of awesome friends.”
James says, “You can’t make people like you, but you can make yourself more likable. Be kind to people. Be interested in what they are doing and what they have to say. Talk to people. Choose friends who will build you up.”
As Jeremy and James were growing up, they developed strong testimonies of their own. “The faith of a child,” says James, “that’s where it started. We do family scripture study every morning at 5:45. I owe my parents everything. I’ve been blessed, and I’ve tried to do what I know is right. That has built my testimony. I’m taking my testimony to heart, applying it, understanding it, believing it.”
“You take seminary,” says Jeremy, “and really start studying the scriptures. The more I study, the more I learn and understand about the gospel. Every little thing makes sense. The things I’ve learned in seminary have been a huge boost to my testimony.”
Now the Ruesches are taking their testimonies to the world. They are separated for the first time in their lives, yet they are united in the message they are teaching in another language in other parts of the world.
They are more than willing to dress the same. But more importantly, their message is the same. It’s a twin thing.

Often this is the way faith works. I was assigned, for example, to escort Elder and Sister Bateman and Elder and Sister Steadman to their missionary assignments as English teachers in Hanoi, Vietnam. We planned and organized, but we had more questions than answers. After completing our planned agenda, we still had one full day unplanned. More remained to be done, but what and where?
That morning we decided to act by faith by walking out our doors. Events swept us through an amazing day of welcoming ceremonies at the Hanoi Children’s Palace, dinner in our honor with Operation Smile Vietnam, and other activities planned by our hosts. Our hosts had been too busy to communicate their plans to us, but the Lord knew them and moved us into place like pawns on a chessboard.

The corners were curled from frequent use. The pages were wrinkled and torn in places. The text was thoroughly marked, and notes were added to the margins. The blue cover was nearly separated from the other 531 pages, and the gold lettering was beginning to lose its shimmer.
I couldn’t believe it. My Book of Mormon looked nothing like that. I had had mine since I was 9, and now that I was 18, my book still looked brand-new. The cover, as well as the pages, were crisp and clean. The binding had barely been opened, and the few markings found in my scriptures had little significance to me.
I had never seen a Book of Mormon so worn from use. My friend had studied the word in a way I simply couldn’t comprehend. I had read the book, and I had prayed about it. I truly felt it to be the word of God. Yet when I saw her Book of Mormon and the light in her eyes, I knew there was something more to do with the words I had always taken for granted.
I began to pray that I would have the Spirit of the Holy Ghost with me as I read the Book of Mormon, and I began to read several times each day. I would ponder the things I had read, and I studied any verses I didn’t understand.
As I was searching, I found a scripture that I had seen many times but that had never before meant so much. “Wherefore, I said unto you, feast upon the words of Christ; for behold, the words of Christ will tell you all things what ye should do” (2 Ne. 32:3). I had always been reading the word, but I had never before feasted on it. Somewhere in my efforts I had stopped merely glancing at the writings and began to see the message. I looked forward to the time I spent with the Book of Mormon. It no longer became a chore but a blessing.
My Book of Mormon is still not as worn as my friend’s. The pages are still not as marked, and the cover is not as tattered from repeated use. But someday it will be. And it is amazing. Christ truly does fill those who will feast.

A story is told of an English farmer at work one day in his fields when he saw a party of huntsmen riding about his farm. Concerned that they might ride into a field where the crop could be damaged by the tramp of horses, he sent one of his workmen to shut the gate and then keep watch over it and on no account to open it. He had scarcely arrived at his post when the hunters came up and ordered that the gate be opened. He declined to do so, stating the orders he had received, and steadfastly refused to open the gate in spite of the threats and bribes as one after another of the hunters came forward.
Then one of the riders came up and said in commanding tones, “My boy, do you know me? I am the Duke of Wellington, one not accustomed to being disobeyed, and I command you to open that gate, that I and my friends may pass through.”
The boy lifted his hat, and before the man whom all England delighted to honor, answered firmly, “I am sure the Duke of Wellington would not wish me to disobey orders. I must keep this gate shut, nor suffer anyone to pass but by my master’s express permission.”
Greatly pleased, the duke lifted his own hat and said, “I honor the man or boy who can be neither bribed or frightened into doing wrong. With an army of such soldiers, I could conquer not only the French, but the world.” (Adapted from “The Boy Who Kept Out Wellington,” in Moral Stories for Little Folks, Salt Lake City: Juvenile Instructor Office, 1891, pp. 112–13.)

Last Sunday, Ruby and I attended a sacrament meeting of a ward here in central Salt Lake. The meeting was most interesting because in that ward there is some affluence as well as people who are living in halfway houses. Just before the testimony meeting, a young lady walked up to the bishop on the stand holding a little baby in her arms, wanting the baby to receive a blessing. The bishop stepped down and took the little baby, and the baby was blessed.

Later on, during the testimony meeting, a little seven-year-old boy, with his five-year-old sister by the hand, walked up to the pulpit. He helped fix a little stool there for her to stand on, his five-year-old sister, and he helped her as she bore her testimony. And as she would falter just a little, he would lean over and whisper in her ear, this little loving seven-year-old brother.

After she finished, he stood on the stool, and she stood watching him, and he bore his testimony. She had that sweet expression on her face as she watched him. He was her older brother, but you could see that family love and relationship with those two little children. He stepped down from the stool, took her by the hand, and they walked back down to take their seat.

Near the end of the testimony meeting, when there were a few moments for me at the end, I asked the young lady who had brought her child up to be blessed if she would come up and stand by me, which she did. In the meantime, while the testimony meeting was going on, I asked the bishop, whispering into his ear, “Where is her husband?”

The bishop said, “He’s in jail.”

I asked, “What is her name?” and he told me her name.

She came up and stood with me by my side, carrying the little baby. As we were standing at the pulpit, I looked down at this little precious baby, only a few days old, and this mother, the mother of that little daughter who had brought her to receive a blessing at the hands of the priesthood. As I looked at the mother and looked at that precious little child, I wondered of what she might become or what she could be. I spoke to the audience and to this young mother about the proclamation that was issued five years ago by the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve, a proclamation on the family, and of our responsibility to our children, and the children’s responsibility to their parents, and the parents’ responsibility to each other. That marvelous document brings together the scriptural direction that we have received that has guided the lives of God’s children from the time of Adam and Eve and will continue to guide us until the final winding-up scene.

As we talked about it and as I looked at that beautiful little baby, I thought of last summer. Ruby and I were up in Idaho for a short visit, and we met some people from Mountain Home, Idaho, the Goodrich family. Sister Goodrich had come to see us and had brought her daughter Chelsea with her. In part of the conversation that we were having, Sister Goodrich said Chelsea had memorized the proclamation on the family.

To Chelsea, who is now 15 years old, I said, “Chelsea, is that right?”

She said, “Yes.”

I said, “How long did it take you to do that?”

She said, “When we were young my mother started a program in our house to help us memorize. We would memorize scripture passages and sacrament meeting songs and other types of things that would be helpful to us. So we learned how to memorize, and it became easier for us.”

I said, “Then you can give it all?”

She said, “Yes, I can give it all.”

I said, “You learned that when you were 12 years old; you’re now 15. Pretty soon you’ll start dating. Tell me about it. What has it done for you?”

Chelsea said, “As I think of the statements in that proclamation, and as I understand more of our responsibility as a family and our responsibility for the way we live and the way we should conduct our lives, the proclamation becomes a new guideline for me. As I associate with other people and when I start dating, I can think of those phrases and those sentences in the proclamation on the family. It will give me a yardstick which will help guide me. It will give me the strength that I need.”