Gospel Story Finder

Throughout the scriptures, and indeed in the writings of thoughtful Christians through the centuries, we find examples of how Christ’s message of light and salvation can spiritually and physically sustain us. As a young priest traveling in Italy in 1833, Englishman John Henry Newman encountered emotional and physical darkness when illness detained him there for several weeks. He became deeply discouraged, and a nurse who saw his tears asked what troubled him. All he could reply was that he was sure God had work for him to do in England. Aching to return home, he finally found passage on a small boat.
Not long after the ship set sail, thick fog descended and obscured the hazardous cliffs surrounding them. Trapped for a week in the damp, gray darkness, the ship unable to travel forward or back, Newman pled for his Savior’s help as he penned the words we now know as the hymn “Lead, Kindly Light.”
Lead, kindly Light, amid th’encircling gloom; …
The night is dark, and I am far from home; …
Keep thou my feet; …
one step enough for me.
(Hymns, no. 97)
This hymn echoes a truth our hearts confirm: though trials may extinguish other sources of light, Christ will illuminate our path, “keep our feet,” and show us the way home. For as the Savior has promised, “he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness” (John 8:12).

When I was younger, I lived next door to an elderly lady who spent most of her time alone and seldom left her house. When she did leave, she would be gone for a long time, and that is when I went to work.
I would get a rake or snow shovel or broom and do what I could to clean up the area around her house. Sometimes I would just leave her a plate of cookies with a note. I tried so hard to be a friend to the lady who lived there, and I thought that if I did these things for her she would be nice to me.
I really enjoyed the extra work because it made me feel good inside, but I thought I would feel even better if she would only acknowledge my kindness. I would watch her come home and feel disappointed because she never made an attempt to show thanks or appreciation. I had worked so hard and never received so much as a smile.
Then one Sunday at church we had a lesson on service, and I realized that I had been performing acts of service for my neighbor with the expectation of getting something in return. I went home and asked my mother about service and she gave me a scripture to read. It was Mosiah 2:17:
“And behold, I tell you these things that ye may learn wisdom; that ye may learn that when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God.”
That taught me a valuable lesson about my activities. And I knew that even if my neighbor didn’t seem to care about my efforts, my Heavenly Father did care.

I see this in Tucker Bateman, a microbiology student who was directed and prepared to be in the right place for God to utilize his vibrant qualities. Tucker grew up on a farm but resolved to attend medical school. He felt directed to study microbiology. He was here at BYU pursuing his dreams, and nothing was going to deter him from his ambitions. And then his dad died. Suddenly medical school didn’t feel right. Following spiritual impressions, Tucker continued to study microbiology but was open to God’s direction. Acting on the advice of a professor, Tucker walked into the BYU Technology Transfer Office seeking information, but he walked out with a new direction. The Lord was beginning to cut through the outer layer of stone and was getting ready to polish the banded layers of Tucker’s experience to transmit a light that would benefit the world.

With a background in farming and an education in microbiology, Tucker is now poised to address food insecurity in a way no one else is. “Salinization [the accumulation of salt in soil] is rapidly becoming one of the biggest challenges for food production worldwide.” Currently, more than two and a half billion acres and millions of marginal farming families in developing countries are affected by decreased crop yields due to significantly increasing salt concentration in the soil. Many of these sustenance farmers are living on two dollars a day—and watching even that dwindle. Working with Michael Davis and Fritz-Carl Morlant, Tucker has found a viable solution for the salt salinity problem by focusing on the microbiome. They are in the process of patenting their innovation.

Because Tucker was willing to listen to the Spirit when it directed him toward microbiology to pursue medicine and then away from medicine to explore innovative solutions for an increasingly devastating problem, the Lord was able to polish Tucker’s layers of experience. He placed Tucker in the right place to go forth to serve, with the potential to reduce hunger and poverty around the globe. I find it interesting that Tucker’s pursuit of medical school wasn’t incorrect, even though he didn’t end up there. Rather, it served as a guidepost, sending him in the right direction to fulfill a greater plan God had in store for him. I encourage you to have faith in the guideposts God sets in your life and to walk down inspired paths with the meekness to change course when directed.

Tucker expressed it well when he said, “I think that God always tries to teach us through the things that happen to us, if we are willing to learn. He is inspiring minds, and I have faith that we can make life better for God’s children.”

Since I have grown up in the Church, people expect me to have a strong testimony. And for a long time I thought I did. But then a Sunday School lesson on testimonies made me realize that mine was not as strong as I thought it was. I just repeated what other people said, and I really didn’t know the truth for sure in my heart. I decided that I needed to pray.
Over the next few days I began to pray sincerely and I started to read the scriptures every night. Nothing happened.
Suddenly my father was called away to be with my grandmother. She had been in the hospital for a while, but she had taken a turn for the worse. When I finally was able to see her I couldn’t believe it. This couldn’t be the same active, fun-loving woman that I knew.
As I stood there and looked at her body hooked up to machines, I realized, to my surprise, that she was extremely peaceful. Someday I wanted to be able to have that kind of peace in the presence of adversity. What I needed was a testimony. I still didn’t think I had one, and I didn’t know why. I was praying and reading the scriptures, but I hadn’t yet had the “special” feeling that so many people get to let them know when they receive an answer to a prayer.
Then my grandmother died. The funeral was beautiful. The speakers were comforting. What moved me, though, was not the flowers or the kind words that were spoken. It was a song. As we sang “O My Father,” I could see, in my mind, my grandmother singing with us, actually talking to our Heavenly Father. It was the most beautiful experience I have ever had.
That afternoon, when the family was gathered in the living room, one of the nurses at the hospital who was also a member of the Church came to talk to us. She told us that our grandmother had wanted to give her grandchildren something special. She presented each of us with a single red rose in a vase with a card that read, “Always with Love.” Then she said our grandmother loved each of us and that she said, “Tell them I’ll be waiting.”
That was what I needed! I kept saying it over and over in my mind. “I’ll be waiting. I’ll be waiting.” And then I knew where I was headed in life. I knew that the only way to get there was through the Church. I had truly received an answer to my prayers and I thanked God for it.
I still do not have the “perfect” testimony, but it’s strong and it’s my own. As long as I keep praying, reading the scriptures, and doing the things that I know are right, my testimony will grow even more. Then I will be able to meet my grandmother again, and she will say to me, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Photograph of hand from Getty Images
As a PhD student in Australia, I often traveled from my residence to nearby restaurants in the Melbourne central business district. During one of my shuttles, I saw on the ground a card with a portrait of Jesus Christ. A voice inside me insisted that I pick it up.
I obeyed and carefully perused the card. Then I looked for a better place to leave the small portrait of the Savior but found none. Consequently, I took the card home and placed it on my bookshelf.
Three days later, I met two missionaries while on my way to lunch. We set an appointment for them to teach me, and they handed me a card similar to the one I had found. When I returned home, I compared the two cards. They were both from the missionaries’ church.
When the missionaries visited me, they bore their testimonies about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Initially, I was not comfortable with their testimony. To me, it seemed blasphemous to say that the Church of Jesus Christ had been restored and was the only true church on earth, but two factors kept my interest.
First, I read from the scriptures that “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” (Psalm 111:10). I needed wisdom and would like to fear the Lord so that I would get wisdom. I reasoned that I would not fear the Lord without knowing Him. Hence, what the missionaries were teaching me was important because I needed knowledge about the Lord.
Second, I concluded that the Lord had directed me to find the card I had picked up. Throughout the years I stayed in Melbourne, I never saw a similar card on the ground. I concluded that the cards were not thrown away carelessly.
As I took the missionary lessons, I became happier and overwhelmed with the knowledge I got from the new teaching. Soon, I was baptized. I’m now sealed to my wife and children for time and eternity, and today I have the same testimony the missionaries bore to me: The Church of Jesus Christ has been restored through the Prophet Joseph Smith. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the only true church on earth and is guided by a living prophet.

Our grandson was only four when a policeman picked him up on the side of the highway. He said he was headed to Grandma’s house, about five miles (8 km) away.
It was the second time he had run away from the unhappiness at home, trying to get to me. Over the next few months, I came to realize that the responsibility of raising my grandson and his two younger sisters was probably going to fall on my shoulders—an idea I did not readily embrace.
My husband and I had done our best to raise our children with gospel principles, but they eventually rejected those principles. I was in my 50s and felt that I had finally earned the right to pursue my own interests. I cherished the goal my husband and I shared of serving a mission together when he retired. The notion of going grocery shopping with preschoolers, organizing mealtimes, doing thousands of loads of laundry, and someday again mothering teenagers reduced me to tears.
One afternoon, however, something changed my heart. A small thing had upset my grandson, so I took him onto my lap and wiped away his tears. As I held him, we talked about how much Jesus loved him. Nearby I had a wall calendar featuring paintings of the Savior, so we looked at those beautiful images one by one.
My grandson was especially interested in a depiction of the Savior sitting in a stone doorway with a small, brown-haired girl on His lap. In the painting, both the Savior and the child radiate peace. My grandson looked closely, pointed to the girl, and called her by his sister’s name.
“How can Katie sit on Jesus’s lap, Grandma?” he asked. “I want to sit on His lap too!”
“You can’t sit on Jesus’s lap now, sweetheart, but you can sit on my lap,” I said. “Jesus gives little children grandmas to love them and hold them and take care of them when they need it.”
Suddenly my heart embraced a future of loving—as the Savior would love—three beloved children who needed me. They were no longer a burden but a wonderful blessing and opportunity to serve our Lord.
I will be forever grateful for the tender mercy of the Lord given to me that afternoon. It changed my life and continues to strengthen and bless our home.

When I hear someone say they can’t serve because they don’t feel well, I remember a stake I once visited in Mexico. The stake president spoke about a lesson he learned from his wife. He said that a week before the conference, he had scheduled some home teaching visits but came home from work and didn’t feel well. He told his wife that he guessed he wouldn’t go home teaching because he was sick. Her reply to him was, “Go sick!” And he went.

What’s so unique about this game? It doesn’t seem that different. Looking around, you’d think it was just like any other junior college basketball game, played anywhere in the country on any given night.
The gym is about half full. Cheerleaders bounce and shout before a crowd that dosen’t pay much attention. Oh, the crowd cheers, but only when the player of their choice does something right or wrong. On the floor, two teams of average ability are racing up and down the court, exchanging the lead every now and then.
Is it the fact that football star Trevor Matich, fresh from the Super Bowl, has raced nonstop from Boston to Sacramento to catch this game? All right, maybe that makes it a little out of the ordinary. But there is something else unusual about the game. It’s a miracle that Dever Matich, Trevor’s 19-year-old brother, is playing at all tonight. Just a little over a year ago, Dever Matich was involved in a game accident that left the promising young basketball star blind.
Trevor went a few extra miles because of that game, too. It was near the end of his last season as star football center at BYU. The Cougars had been ranked number one in the nation and were practicing for the Holiday Bowl when he heard about his brother’s accident. Trevor, a returned missionary from Mexico, said adios to Provo, hopped in his car, and headed straight for Sacramento.
What he found when he got there broke his heart. In the first tournament game of Dever’s senior basketball season, Dever got jabbed in both eyes so hard that he fell to the floor in shock. He was lucky he made it to the hospital at all. His blood pressure had plunged so low he was very near death.
The doctors restored his heart rate, but they made no promises about his vision. Both retinas had been badly torn, and Dever’s family was told he would be lucky to ever see again, let alone play basketball.
Trevor was devastated. “Why couldn’t it be me?” he wondered. “I’ve already had my time in the spotlight. But Dever is just beginning. Why couldn’t it be me?”
The family’s home teachers came and gave a blessing to Dever, which offered considerable consolation to all of them—almost more consolation than they felt comfortable offering. They were inspired to say that Dever would recover completely, contrary to what the doctors had said.
The next morning Dever underwent laser surgery. The medical staff was delighted with the success but still gave Dever a good month before he could return to school and twice that amount of time before he could pick up a basketball.
His recovery, however, was incredible. Within a few days, Dever was up and around, being led by Trevor, to attend his team’s tournament championship game. Although Dever couldn’t see, Trevor gave him a play-by-play account, and Dever was more eager than ever to get back on the court.
When Trevor saw that Dever’s recovery was progressing so well, he returned to Provo, the Cougars, and a Holiday Bowl victory. It didn’t surprise him a bit to learn that less than three weeks after the accident, Dever was back in the game, his vision improved from 20/20 to 20/16.
It really does make this junior college basketball game a little out of the ordinary when you realize that if it weren’t for the power of the priesthood, one of the players would be listening from the bleachers. But there’s yet another unique aspect of the event.
That’s the unity that flows between these two brothers, who are about six years and an entire continent apart.
“He’s my best friend,” says Trevor of Dever.
“He’s so much more than just a brother,” says Dever of Trevor.
No matter what the scoreboard says when the final buzzer sounds, you’d have a hard time finding a closer game. Dever and Trevor Matich play the closest game in town.

Let me tell you the story of one man who sacrificed greatly to maintain his own financial integrity and honor.

In the 1930s Fred Snowberger opened the doors of a new pharmacy in northeastern Oregon. It had been his dream to own his own business, but the economic turnaround he had hoped for never materialized. Eight months later, Fred closed the doors of his pharmacy for the last time.

Even though his business had failed, Fred was determined to repay the loan he had secured. Some wondered why he insisted on repaying the debt. Why didn’t he simply declare bankruptcy and have the debt legally forgiven?

But Fred did not listen. He had said he would repay the loan, and he was determined to honor his word. His family made many of their own clothes, grew much of their food in their garden, and used everything they had until it was thoroughly worn out or used up. Rain or shine, Fred walked to and from his work each day. And every month, Fred paid what he could on the loan.

Years passed, and finally the wonderful day arrived when Fred made the last payment. He delivered it in person. The man who had loaned him the money wept, and with tears streaming down his face he said, “You not only paid back every penny, but you taught me what a man of character and honesty is.”

To this day, nearly 70 years after Fred signed his name to that note, descendants of Fred and Erma Snowberger still tell this story with pride. This act of honor and nobility has lived through the decades as a cherished example of family integrity.

The 36 young women in the Ocean Springs Ward, Gulfport Mississippi Stake, made Father’s Day special for their dads and learned a new skill while they were at it. The young women chose material, cut out patterns, pinned, and sewed for hours. Finally, each of their fathers had a handmade tie to wear to church on Father’s Day. The girls also made extra ties for the bishopric, the Young Men presidency, and the ward’s missionaries, who weren’t lucky enough to have daughters in Young Women.

Before 1961, missionary conferences were sometimes held in West Berlin, and missionaries and members from the German Democratic Republic could occasionally bring back lesson manuals in their luggage. Although not officially approved by the government, these were not always officially denied at the border crossings. Local Saints then typed the lesson manual information, making many carbon copies, until there were enough copies for each of the branches. After 1961, even this contact with official Church literature became more and more restricted. Brother Joachim Albrecht in Bautzen told this story:
“We received a directive from President Burckhardt that all unauthorized religious materials, books, manuals, etc., were to be destroyed. I was heartbroken. I had, over the years, scraped together a small but nice library of Church materials, for which I had no official authorization. I sat in front of an open fireplace. No, I said to myself. I can’t do it. But in the end, I burned all of the books and manuals I had collected with such difficulty. Less than two weeks after that the secret police knocked on my door. They searched my house for unauthorized printed material. I had none. From that experience I learned a great lesson about inspired leaders and listening to their counsel.”

Let me share with you an example of what can be done and what can be avoided. It is an excerpt of an interview between Jimmy Carter, when he was a young man, and Admiral Rickover. I was quite impressed by this dialogue as I read it some years ago in a weekly magazine in Belgium. As Jimmy Carter was being interviewed by the admiral, the admiral asked him a question: “How was your promotion in the naval academy?”
Jimmy Carter, proud of his accomplishments, answered, “Sir, I came out fifty-ninth out of 820 candidates.” He leaned back in his seat waiting for congratulations that never came.
Instead, Admiral Rickover asked, “And did you do your best?”
Mr. Carter was ready to say, “Yes, sir,” but suddenly he remembered with whom he was speaking, and he also had a vision of numerous occasions at the academy when he could have done a better job. With difficulty, Jimmy Carter said, “No, sir, I did not always do my best.”
Admiral Rickover looked at him for a long time and then turned his seat to show that this was the end of the interview. But then he asked one last question that Jimmy Carter never forgot and that he was never able to answer: “Why? Why didn’t you do your best?” Jimmy Carter sat for a moment quite moved and then slowly left the room. That question, “Why didn’t you do your best?” may be one you and I will have to answer in the future.

When Christiane and I were young, these were the words of our living prophet, and we trusted and followed his advice. We knelt across the altar of the Swiss Temple, being only twenty-two and twenty years of age. We were worthy of the covenant, we had no real clue of what to expect, we had no work experience or finished education, and we were as poor as church mice. All that we had in abundance was our love for each other and a lot of naïve enthusiasm. But we began building our world together. We did not postpone having children, and we needed to support each other in getting our educations. We strongly believed in the Lord’s promise that “if ye do keep his commandments he doth bless you and prosper you.”

And He did. When we married, Christiane was in nursing school. Our vision included having her finish her degree, but at the same time we also made a conscious decision to begin fulfilling our dream of having a family. As a result, our first child was born about two weeks before Christiane passed her final exam as a certified nurse.

However, we knew that even in our marriage there would be stumbling blocks, challenges, and some difficulties. But we had a simple oral agreement, which we often repeated with smiles on our faces: “If difficulties approach, no manslaughter and no divorce.”

Now, thirty-six years later, we are grateful that we could build this family together. Our faith in God and our relationship with each other have become unshaken as we have seen the hand of the Lord guiding us through the process of building our kingdom in mortality, which at present consists of seven children and six grandchildren. This kingdom will continue to grow, forever and ever.

This story happened in the USA.
Eight . . . nine . . . ten!
Izzy carefully put the 10th egg in her basket. Grandpa paid her one penny per egg. Since there were 10 eggs, Izzy would get 10 cents today.
The chickens fluttered and clucked as Izzy tossed them their food. She was careful to keep her Sunday skirt clean. The chickens had to be fed every day, even on Sunday. And the eggs had to be gathered.
“Thanks for the eggs, hens!” Izzy said. “And thanks for the 10 cents!”
Izzy looked at the beautiful eggs in her basket. Grandpa wouldn’t need all 10. He would give most of them to Izzy’s family. But he liked to have an egg for his breakfast. She skipped across the yard and into Grandpa’s kitchen.
“Special delivery!” Izzy called.
“Thanks!” Grandpa smiled. “I feel so happy when you bring me an egg.”
Izzy handed him the biggest egg from the basket. “I love you, Grandpa,” she said.
Grandpa tapped the egg on the edge of a hot frying pan and cracked it open. The golden egg yolk sizzled in the pan.
“Now get your 10 pennies from my jar.” Grandpa gave Izzy a hug. “Then I’ll see you at church!”
Izzy ran home with the other nine eggs in her basket and 10 shiny pennies jingling in her pocket.
When she went to Primary, Izzy still had her pennies with her. She put her hand in her pocket to hold them while she listened to the lesson.
“Tithing is when we give one-tenth of what we earn back to Heavenly Father,” Sister Ayala said. “So if you have 10 cents, you give one cent as tithing.”
Izzy’s face felt hot. Give one of her pennies? She couldn’t! She held her money tighter.
“Why does God need our money?” asked Izzy’s friend Jaime. “He doesn’t even use money.”
Sister Ayala smiled. “But God knows it takes money to pay for things like this beautiful church building,” she said. “He asks us to pay tithing so we can meet the Church’s needs. But more importantly, He wants to bless us. If we pay our tithing, God promises us blessings from heaven.”
Izzy felt the pennies in her pocket and thought about Grandpa’s egg.
The eggs were from his chickens, but he kept only one for himself. It made Grandpa so happy to get an egg every morning that Izzy wanted to give him the very best one. Besides, she loved Grandpa more than eggs. That was the most important thing.
“So,” Izzy said slowly, “we give Heavenly Father back a little of what He gives us. Because we want to show Him we love Him.”
“Exactly.” Sister Ayala handed each child a tithing envelope.
Izzy took out her 10 shiny pennies and counted them in her lap.
Eight . . . nine . . . ten.
Feeling warm all over, Izzy took the shiniest penny and slipped it into her envelope to give to Heavenly Father. “Thanks for the pennies,” she whispered. “And thanks for the blessings from heaven.”
Illustrations by Alyssa Petersen

Fast-forward my life to when I married my sweetheart, Julia, and then even further to the moment that our first child, Daniel, was born. I was filled with a rush of emotions. I was happy, shocked, amazed, and a little scared. I felt totally inadequate to be a father and to have the responsibility of teaching and being an example to my son. But I quickly realized that I’d been preparing all my life to be a dad. When I held my son in my arms for the first time and looked down into his face, I felt the Spirit touch my heart, and I realized that I was ready to try to be a great dad just like my own dad was to me.

One time during a particularly intense blizzard, our tractor tore a drive belt in the middle of our driveway. My mother and I soon discovered we had no more extra belts. The tractor had to be pushed back into the garage. With the wind chill, the temperature was about 20 degrees below zero (-29° C). My fingers were so cold they had become almost nonresponsive. Unfortunately, the tractor wasn’t going to go anywhere by itself, so Mom and I put it in neutral gear and tried to push it.
Our initial efforts were futile. Even with heavy-duty snow boots we couldn’t get enough friction to push the tractor forward. I remember falling and bruising my knees several times as my feet failed to get any traction on the slippery ice. I was cold, I was miserable, and I wanted hot chocolate. If we were going to get this done, we needed a different approach.
It became apparent that we needed to literally put our “shoulders to the wheel,” simultaneously pushing down with all of our strength on the front side of the tires. Because we were pushing down instead of forward, we were able to move the tractor! Slowly but surely, we pushed the tractor back into the garage.

Sue didn’t start out as a leader. She learned by trial and error. Growing up, Sue was just part of the crowd until the crowd started going a direction she did not care to follow. Her upbringing in the Church gave her a perspective different than that of her friends.

“In my second year of high school, my friends started doing awful things that would make me cry for them. I just wanted to shake them and ask, ‘What are you doing?’ but I couldn’t. It was frustrating. I started saying to myself, ‘Hey, Sue, you don’t need to do those things.’ “

That’s when she decided to make her own choices and possibly lead her friends in the right direction as well. Her bishop, Allen Dance of the Snoqualmie Valley Ward, noticed her ability to be a positive influence on her friends. “Sue has always sought the good. She has strengthened the weak in our ward and in the school. She goes out of her way to be friends to people who need a friend. As a result of her example, others have been blessed.”

Well, I look about you and you look like a convention of the teenagers that have graced our home while we have been raising our eight children, sharing with us hundreds of gallons of ice cream and great barrels of carmel popcorn. On one occasion, when I was downtown, I called home and a young man answered the phone. I asked for each of my children in turn and he said, “None of them are here right now.”

I said, “Oh? Who is this?”

He said, “This is Brent.”

“What are you doing, Brent?”

“Oh, Bill and I are just sitting here having some chocolate ice cream and watching television.”

It is always open house at our place, and they know it. I thanked him kindly and told him to keep taking messages, and if anyone needed me I would be home soon.

Recently I took my three-year-old granddaughter to a sacrament meeting where a young man was speaking prior to leaving for a mission. I had brought the usual books and things to encourage her to be reverent, but she’s a bright and energetic little girl, so at one point I stood her beside me on the bench so she could see the missionary who was speaking. Then I whispered in her ear, “This young man is going on a mission, and that means he is going to live far away from home and go around telling people all about Jesus.” She looked all around the chapel filled with people and said, “Well, where is Jesus anyway?” She had seen His picture in Primary, but she could not find Him in the audience.
I cannot tell you how glad I was that I could tell her where Jesus is. As she can understand, I will tell her who He is, what He has done for her and for me, and what He can mean in her life. I was reminded on that occasion what a great opportunity we as women have to influence the lives of those around us. I love my children and my grandchildren, and I desire to keep them safe. Sometimes this world is a frightening place to be. I believe, however, that women have unique opportunities and special gifts and talents to protect, nurture, and influence others. We can create places of security where marriages, children, and families can thrive and avoid the evil of the world.

Following Thanksgiving time a year or so ago, I received a letter from a widow whom I had known in the stake where I served in the presidency. She had just returned from a dinner sponsored by her bishopric. Her words reflect the peace she felt and the gratitude which filled her heart:

“Dear President Monson,
“I am living in Bountiful now. I miss the people of our old stake, but let me tell you of a wonderful experience I have had. In early November all the widows and older people received an invitation to come to a lovely dinner. We were told not to worry about transportation since this would be provided by the older youth in the ward.
“At the appointed hour, a very nice young man rang the bell and took me and another sister to the stake center. He stopped the car, and two other young men walked with us to the chapel where the young ladies took us to where we removed our wraps—then into the cultural hall, where we sat and visited for a few minutes. Then they took us to the tables, where we were seated on each side by either a young woman or a young man. Then we were served a lovely Thanksgiving dinner and afterward provided a choice program.
“After the program we were given our dessert—either apple or pumpkin pie. Then we left, and on the way out we were given a plastic bag with sliced turkey and two rolls. Then the young men took us home. It was such a nice, lovely evening. Most of us shed a tear or two for the love and respect we were shown.
“President Monson, when you see young people treat others like these young people did, I feel the Church is in good hands.”

I reflected on my association with this lovely widow, now grown old but ever serving the Lord. There came to mind the words from the Epistle of James: “Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.” (James 1:27.)

I add my own commendation: God bless the leaders, the young men, and the young women who so unselfishly brought such joy to the lonely and such peace to their souls. Through their experience they learned the meaning of service and felt the nearness of the Lord.