Gospel Story Finder

Robin was raised in Ecuador in poverty, but he wanted to better himself. Once, while working at a plantation 12 hours a day, he prayed for guidance, and lightning flashed during his prayer. Robin saw this as God’s message that life held promise. “I knew that my feelings came from God,” Robin recalls. He came to know that through faith, he could change his life. At age 16 he left for work in Guayaquil, where he was baptized. Continuing inspiration led him to Brigham Young University, where he fulfilled his ambition of obtaining an education.

I stared as a new boy entered the Primary room. A woman pushed him in a wheelchair toward the front of the room.
“Everyone, this is David,” Sister Olive said. “He and his grandmother have just moved into our ward.”
David smiled and waved to the Primary. I tried not to stare. David’s body was covered in red scars, and he carried a cane across his lap. His right hand was just a nub, and his left ear was completely missing. I had heard about David. When he was a baby, he had been burned in a fire. Whenever he grew, he had to have surgeries because his skin did not stretch with him as he got bigger.
David’s grandmother wheeled him to the end of the row of the CTR 7 class. I was in the back in the Valiant 11 class, too far away to try to help David feel welcome. Would any of the children in his class be brave enough to talk to him?
Just then, Joseph jumped out of his chair. He sat down on the seat next to David and started talking to him. Sister Olive had to tell them to be quiet so we could start singing time.
Sister Olive took out a big black paper music note. “We’re going to play ‘Hide the Note,’” she said. “I will choose one person to hide this note somewhere in the Primary room and another person to leave the room so he doesn’t know where the note is hidden. When the second person comes back into the room, we’ll all sing louder when he gets closer to the note.”
“And quieter when he gets farther away!” Joseph said.
“That’s right,” Sister Olive said. “Who wants to hide the note?”
Almost everyone raised their hands. We really liked this activity.
“Julia, you can hide the note,” Sister Olive said. Julia jumped up from her chair and walked to the front of the room.
“Who wants to find the note?” Sister Olive asked. We all raised our hands again. “David, you can be our finder.”
“I’ll help!” Joseph volunteered. He wheeled David outside and closed the door.
Julia hid the music note under the piano. It was a good hiding place.
Sister Olive called David and Joseph back into the room. Joseph slowly wheeled David down the aisle, and we started singing quietly.
David pointed to the left with his cane and Joseph wheeled him left, toward the CTR 6 class. We sang more quietly. David pointed to the right with his cane and Joseph wheeled him right, toward the Sunbeams. We sang even quieter. David looked confused. He thought for a moment and then pointed his cane backwards, toward the piano. Joseph wheeled him closer and closer to the piano, and we sang louder and louder.
David pointed his cane at the piano, and we all sang as loudly as we could. Joseph looked all over the piano until he finally found the music note on the ground, under the piano legs.
“We did it!” David cheered. He grinned from ear to ear and patted Joseph on the back.
“We make a great team,” Joseph said.
David and Joseph sat down and Sister Olive chose other children to hide and find the note. I could tell that David and Joseph had become friends. Joseph didn’t seem to notice David’s wheelchair. To Joseph, David wasn’t different.

“Is that it?” Elliott asked the stake president.
“Yes, you’re officially released as a full-time missionary. Welcome home. You can start dating again.”
They shook hands. “Thanks. Oh, can I use your phone?”
“Sure. I’ll be in the other room with the stake clerk if you need me for anything.”
Elliott stared at the phone. He pushed his glasses in place with his index finger. It wasn’t that his glasses fit that badly. Mostly it was something he did when he felt nervous or threatened.
I can do it, he thought to himself, picked up the phone and dialed.
“Hello,” Rachel said.
“Rachel? This is Elliott. I just got in town. In fact I’m calling from the stake president’s office. He just released me from my mission.”
“Oh, Elliott, welcome home. How was your mission?”
“Terrific. I can hardly wait to tell you about it.”
“Well, I’ll be sure and be there when you give your talk in church.”
He paused. “Actually, the main reason I called was, well, my mother says that you and Kyle have been going together, and I was just wondering, you know, how serious you are?”
“It’s funny you should ask. Last week he asked me to marry him.”
“Gee, that sounds fairly serious then, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, I think so, Elliott.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I said I’d think about it.”
“Before you think much more, can I come over and talk to you?”
“There,” she said. “I just put the stamp on my letter telling him I accept his proposal.”
“So maybe this isn’t a good time to call and ask you out?”
“No, it really isn’t, but thanks for thinking of me.”
“Well, I thought, you know, that you and me … I mean you and I … that we …”
“I’m sorry, Elliott. I really am.”
“You say you wrote to Kyle—where is he?”
“Well, you knew he joined the air force, didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“Yes, he’s a fighter pilot. He was here a few days ago, and then they shipped him off to Alaska.”
“Alaska—that’s a long ways away, isn’t it?” He paused. “And you haven’t actually mailed the letter, right?”
“No. Like I said, I was just putting it in the envelope when you called.”
“How about waiting until tomorrow to mail it?”
“Why?”
“The way I look at it, until you actually mail it, you’re not officially engaged.”
“I think that’s really putting too fine a point on it, Elliott.”
“I’d like to see you tonight,” he said. “But I won’t bother you if you’re engaged.”
“Why do you want to see me?”
“So you can see firsthand what a mission can do for a guy like me.”
“Well, gee, I don’t know.”
“At least let me come over and talk to you.”
Ten minutes later she set the letter on the dashboard of his car. “Can you drop by the post office on our way home so I can mail this tonight?”
He drove by the high school. “You and I have a lot of great high school memories together, don’t we?”
She looked puzzled. “We do? What are they?”
“Do you remember the junior-senior prom when Scottie Anderson wore a tuxedo and tennis shoes, and Melanie Peters tried to pin Joe Pillen’s carnation on, and she stuck him, and he yelled. Do you remember that?”
She looked at him strangely. “I don’t remember that at all.”
“Oh,” he said quietly. “And then there’s those times we dated.”
“I guess we did date a couple of times, didn’t we?” she said.
“Three times.”
“Was it three? Okay, but still …
“All I’m asking is for you not to mail that letter for a few days. Go out with me, and let’s just see if some of that old magic is still there.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Elliott, am I forgetting something? What old magic are you referring to?”
“Remember how we used to kid around in seminary? I liked to sit next to you and make wisecracks so you’d laugh out loud in class and get in trouble. Rachel, you’ve got one terrific laugh.”
“You like my laugh?”
“You have the finest laugh in the world. Your laugh is like shaking a bottle of soda and then opening it up and having it spray out over everybody.”
She cleared her throat. “Let me see if I have this straight. You’re saying that because I laughed at your jokes, I should break off my engagement to Kyle.”
“You’re not engaged yet, so there’s nothing to break.”
“There’s one thing that puzzles me,” she asked. “Why didn’t you just give up when I told you about Kyle?”
“All right, let’s face it, he and I are in competition for you. Animals do that all the time you know—they fight for the female of the species. You take your basic buffalo, or your deer, or even your tiny chipmunk. All share this common characteristic that only the strongest male wins the female of the species. At first you might think this is unfair, especially if you happen to be one of the weak males, but actually it’s only nature’s way of ensuring that only the strongest will pass on their genes to posterity.”
She was looking at him like he was from another planet. He pushed his glasses back in place. “So,” he mumbled, “I take it you’re not a fan of ‘Wild Kingdom’?”
Then she burst out laughing.
“All right!” he cheered. “That’s the Super Bowl of laughs.”
“Your basic buffalo? Your tiny chipmunk? Give me a break!”
“Sorry. I haven’t dated for a couple of years, so I’m a little rusty. But I’m sure I’ll improve with time.”
“For your sake, Elliott,” she teased, “I certainly hope so.”
She asked if they could stop by the grocery store to pick up a few things for her mother. He pushed the shopping cart for her. “I can tell you still kind of like me,” he said.
“I’ve always liked you, Elliott—as a friend. I find you … well, interesting.”
He frowned. “Interesting? Is that all? How about ruggedly handsome?”
Diplomatically she turned to her shopping list. “If you see any Niblets corn, let me know.”
“So, tell me,” he said, “what else in life do you find interesting besides me?”
“The National Geographic,” she said, suppressing a grin.
“Would you say I rate above or below the National Geographic in degree of interest to you?”
She was trying hard to fake seriousness. “Well, of course you know that the National Geographic is a monthly publication.”
“Yeah? So?”
“Should I compare you with one issue or to a whole year’s worth of informative factual writing and wonderful color photographs?”
And then they both laughed.
On the way home he asked, “Basically, how am I doing so far?”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“I learned that from my mission.”
“Be honest. Are you really sure you want to get serious with a girl so soon after your mission?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Well to be honest, not really.”
“Then why don’t we leave well enough alone. You keep on being unsure, and I’ll go marry Kyle.”
“But what if there’s no other girl in the world like you that I can joke around with? Give me two weeks. That’s all I’m asking. Two weeks for us to find out if we could ever like each other enough to want to get married.”
She paused.
“Look, I know Kyle’s tall, dark, handsome, and has good eyesight. I can see that some women might consider him more physically attractive than me.”
He waited for her to say it wasn’t true. But she didn’t say anything. “Well, is he?”
“Elliott, all Kyle has to do is walk in the room and I get weak in the knees.”
“And what happens when I walk into the room?”
“I start smiling because I know you’re going to make me laugh.”
“That’s it?”
“Elliott, mainly I think of you as a good friend. More like a cousin actually.”
He pushed his glasses into place.
They drove home and made popcorn and ate it on the front steps. At nine o’clock he said he’d better go home and be with his parents. “Don’t mail the letter for a while, okay?”
“All right, I’ll hold it for a few days.”
“How about going fishing with me tomorrow morning?” he asked.
“Fishing?” she asked.
“On the plane after my release I thought about what I wanted to do when I got home. I came up with two things—asking you out and going fishing. This’ll combine ’em both, sort of like killing two birds with one stone.”
She laughed. “How can I refuse such a deal?”
Elliott wasn’t quite sure why she was laughing. “I’ll pick you up at six thirty.”
He shook her hand. She looked strangely at her hand and then smiled at him and went inside.
The next morning they drove to an old fishing hole he’d gone to before his mission. They found a large flat boulder near the edge of the water and sat down while he fixed their lines.
“You think we’ll actually catch anything?” she asked.
“Of course we will. When I go fishing I’m always sure I’ll do well.”
“Why’s that?”
“When I was a kid, my parents used to take me fishing out on a boat. My dad would bait my line first and then toss it overboard, and then he’d do my mom’s and then his. Since my line was in the water way before anybody else’s, I often caught the first fish. My parents used to say, ‘Elliott’s such a good fisherman. He always catches the first fish.’ Since I knew I did catch the first fish, I decided they were right. From that moment on, I thought of myself as a good fisherman.”
He cast her line out first.
“Later in junior high when I started going fishing by myself, I just knew I was a good fisherman. If I caught fish, then I thought to myself, ‘Of course—I’m a good fisherman.’ But if I didn’t catch anything, I thought, ‘Hey, if I didn’t catch any fish, then nobody caught anything, because I’m a good fisherman.’ No matter what happened, I always interpreted it in terms of this unshakable belief that I was a good fisherman. The amazing thing is that because I saw myself as a good fisherman, I became a good fisherman, because I never got discouraged and gave up.”
Her pole dipped strongly downward.
“I got one!” she yelled excitedly.
He coached her as she reeled in, and then took a net and dipped down into the cool clear water and pulled in a large trout.
“Rachel! All right!”
He removed the hook and put the fish on a stringer and set it back into the water.
Then he baited her hook and helped her cast out again.
“Rachel is a good fisherwoman,” he said. “She always catches the first fish.”
They sat down again and watched their lines.
“You know,” he said, handing her a donut, “lately I’ve been thinking. What if that’s the secret of success? What if nothing else is as important as how we feel about ourselves? If that’s true, then the most important thing to do is to build a child’s self-confidence. I’ve been thinking about majoring in education. I think I’d like to teach in grade school. That’s where kids need the most to be told they’re special.”
“What a treat for a kid to have you for a teacher. You’re so positive about everything.”
“On my mission I learned that Heavenly Father is positive about all of us. In the Doctrine and Covenants, he tells us to go ahead, do any good thing you want to do. He tells us that the power’s in us. I believe that. I think we should follow our dreams and not give up.
She sat a little closer to him.
“What are your dreams?” he asked.
“Well, I want to finish college. Kyle says there’s a college just a few miles from where we’ll be living, so maybe I’ll finish after we get married.”
“Anything else?”
“I want to be married in the temple and have children and be the kind of mother to my kids that my mother was to me.”
“Anything else?”
She paused. “You’ll think this is dumb.”
“No I won’t.”
“Since I was a little girl, I’ve written songs. I’ve always wanted to know if they were any good, you know, if I could find a record company willing to promote them.”
“What other dreams do you have?”
“I’ve always wanted to paint a picture that was good enough to hang in a living room.”
“You can do it. The power is in you to do it. You wouldn’t have the dream unless you had the power in you to put wings on it to make it fly.”
“You really believe that, don’t you?”
“Sure, why not? You should always believe you’re going to win.”
“But a person doesn’t always win.”
“No, but you should always believe you will.”
She smiled.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was picturing you on the Titanic just after it struck the iceberg. The ship’s sinking and everybody’s running around trying to jump into lifeboats, except you. You’re going around telling people, ‘Hey, no problem. Just think of it as a very large ice cube.’”
The sun was warm. She leaned against his shoulder and closed her eyes, while he watched the water—and her. “I love to look at your face,” he said.
She didn’t answer.
“Are you awake?”
“Yes.” She opened her eyes.
They ended up with five trout. They were home by eleven that morning. She invited him to eat lunch with her family if he’d cook up the fish they’d caught.
While he worked in the kitchen with her mother, Rachel went to get the mail.
“It’s nice to have you home again, Elliott,” her mother said.
“Thanks. It’s nice to be home.” He paused. “Can I ask you a question? How does Rachel get along with Kyle?”
“You should see how her eyes light up when he enters the room.”
He looked outside. She was sitting on the steps reading a letter. He knew it was from Kyle.
When she came back, she was uncharacteristically somber.
But he was too busy frying fish to talk.
After lunch, she walked him out to the car.
“Can I see you tonight?” he asked.
“Elliott, I got a letter from Kyle today. He’s gone ahead without me and ordered our wedding announcements.”
“Good grief! That means you must have already set a wedding date.”
“Well, we set one tentatively, but I’ve never actually agreed to marry him. And he knows that. I guess he just assumed my answer would be yes.”
Elliott pushed his glasses into place. “But he hasn’t actually sent the announcements out yet, has he?”
“No. He’s having them all mailed to me when they’re printed.”
“What a waste of money. Well, I suppose we could always cross out his name and write mine in. They have write-in candidates for elections, right? So why not for a wedding?”
“This isn’t funny, Elliott.”
“I never said it was.”
“Maybe it’d just be for the best if we quit seeing each other.”
“What for?”
“I hate to change horses in the middle of the stream.”
“No. Don’t think of it like that.”
“How else can I think of it?”
“Well, okay, you’re at this corral, see, and there’s all these horses milling around. At first you picked out this rather ordinary quarter horse named Kyle. But then you spot this magnificent Arabian named Elliott. So you turn to the man in charge of the horses and you ask, ‘Would it be all right if I changed my mind and took that Arabian instead of the one I originally picked?’ And the cowboy says, ‘Hey, Lady, it’s no skin off my nose.’ So you pick the Arabian. What I’m trying to say is, don’t think of it as changing horses in the middle of the stream. In the middle of the stream would be if you were officially engaged, which you’re not. But this is still in the corral. I think you should keep that in mind.”
She smiled. “You had to be the Arabian, didn’t you?”
After supper he showed up at her home again. Her mother met him at the door. “Rachel just left. She said she had to go to the post office.”
“I’ve got to stop her.” He ran to his car and took off for the post office. He got there just as she was about to drop a letter into the mailbox.
“Wait! Don’t mail that letter! It’s not in the middle of the stream! It’s still in the corral!”
An elderly lady, thinking he was a lunatic, hurried out the door.
Rachel dropped the letter into the chute.
He lunged for the letter, but it was too late. It was gone.
He sighed. “Okay, you mailed it. I can accept that. But until he actually receives the letter, you’re not officially engaged.”
“Calm down, it wasn’t a letter to Kyle. I was just paying my bill to a C.D. club.”
“Oh—sorry.”
They left the post office.
“Elliott, I don’t think you’re as interested in me as you are in achieving a goal you’ve set for yourself.”
“Two weeks, that’s all I’m asking.”
That night she wrote to Kyle and told him not to do anything more about marriage plans because she hadn’t made up her mind yet.
The next day when Elliott showed up at her home, it was a rainy day. They sat at the piano while she played the songs she’d written.
“They’re terrific songs,” he said. “You’ve got real talent. Let’s record your songs and send them out to some record companies. I think you’ve got a bright future as a songwriter.”
“You really think so?”
“Absolutely. You can do anything you set your mind on.”
They ate lunch. It was still raining. “One time you talked about wanting to paint a picture,” he said. “How about if we do that this afternoon?”
They drove to an artist supply shop and bought a large canvas and several tubes of paint and some brushes, and then they went to his house.
His mother talked to Rachel while he set up in the garage for their project.
“Elliott is very enthusiastic about you,” his mother said.
“As far as I can tell, he’s enthusiastic about everything.”
“Your mom and I talked yesterday. We’re a little puzzled about you two.”
“I’m puzzled too. I like Elliott very much.” She paused. “But I’m in love with Kyle.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
Just then he burst into the house. “C’mon! Let’s go be Rembrandt!”
They went to the garage. Elliott had placed the canvas on the floor. They took an old tricycle and dabbed paint on the wheels and ran it back and forth across the canvas. They repeated the process several times with a variety of colors and wheels. It took them three hours and then they stood in the garage looking at their creation.
“I think it makes a very bold statement,” Elliott said with a grin.
“And tricycle art is so today,” she said. They started laughing. “Oh, Elliott, you’re so much fun to be with.”
On Sunday he spoke in sacrament meeting and told about some of the experiences he’d had on his mission. And then afterwards, he invited Rachel for lunch with his family.
On Monday Elliott located a music studio in town where they could record Rachel’s songs. On Tuesday he called around for some musicians, finally locating two guitar players and a drummer. On Wednesday night they recorded the songs.
Thursday night when he showed up, he could see by her expression there were problems. “What’s wrong?”
“Kyle got my last letter. He just phoned to ask what the problem is, so I told him about you. He’s really upset. He’s catching a military transport plane down here this weekend.”
The first time Elliott saw Kyle that weekend was at church. He wore his air force uniform. Elliott was depressed seeing how good Kyle looked in a uniform. Kyle and Rachel sat together in church. He draped his arm around her shoulders most of the meeting.
A member of the bishopric announced a Young Adult fireside at Rachel’s house.
Elliott lost track of them after sacrament meeting because he had a calling to teach Primary.
He spent the afternoon in his bedroom.
“Can I come in?” his mother said just before supper.
She came in and sat down on the bed. “Are you okay?”
“Well, no, I guess I’m not.”
“You’re worried about Kyle?”
“When he walks in the room, Rachel gets weak in the knees. But when I walk in the room, she starts snickering. You’re a woman. Tell me what I need to do so she’ll get weak in the knees when I walk in the room.”
“Is that what you really want? For her to be weak in the knees.”
“I want her to fall in love with me.”
“Just be yourself.”
“Mom, I’ve tried that, and it’s not enough. How can I compete with Kyle? He’s out of my class. A girl would be crazy not to fall in love with him. He looks terrific, he’s got an education, he’s an officer in the air force, a fighter pilot. He’s got a future, and what have I got? Three more years of schooling and then a poverty level income as a grade school teacher.”
She paused. “I think you’re wonderful, but of course I’m your mother. You’ll just have to wait and see what happens. There’s one thing on your side though.”
“What’s that?”
“She may be in love with Kyle, but I think you’re her best friend.”
“So?”
“Guess who my best friend is?” she asked.
“Dad?”
“That’s right.”
Monday morning Kyle left.
Rachel came over to see Elliott. He was going through the want ads looking for a job.
She sat down with him at the kitchen table. “Kyle said the chances of ever finding a record company willing to take a chance on my songs are pretty slim.”
“Realistically, I guess he’s right.”
She paused. “I showed him the painting we did. He made fun of it and said it looked like somebody’d taken a child’s tricycle and run it back and forth over a canvas.”
“Well, of course, that’s true.”
“And then I talked to him about taking college music courses after we were married. And he asked why I’d want to do a dumb thing like that.”
She quit talking.
“He told me all I had to worry about was being his wife. He tried to kiss me, probably thinking I’d just melt into his arms. But I pulled away and told him I needed some time, and that I wasn’t ready to get engaged to him. I tried to tell him how good I feel about myself when I’m around you, but I don’t think he understood. Anyway, he’s gone. So I’m available—if you want to go fishing sometime.”
“Let’s go tomorrow,” he said.
“Are the fish biting?”
“Of course they are. We’ll catch a lot of fish.”
“How do you know?” she asked.
“We always do, don’t we? Let’s go to McPherson Reservoir. I always do well there.”
She paused. “They drained it last year.”
He paused. “Some other place then. It’s a big world. There’s lots of places to do well.”

Mitch Davis: It is so good to be here with my lovely bride, who I also met and courted on this hallowed campus.

Several years ago I had a very dramatic experience regarding trusting the Lord. I was backpacking with my 10-year-old son, two of his friends, and our faithful dog, Pluto, when we were hit by lightning.

We were hiking above timberline when a sudden storm blew in. We pitched our tent, and I put the boys inside their sleeping bags to keep them warm. I started fixing dinner on our little camp stove. Then, suddenly, I was gone.

Although I have no recollection of the lightning hitting me, the boys tell me that it blasted through our tent’s roof and hit me square in the chest and that I flew backward and landed on the floor unconscious with my eyes open but rolled back into my head.

The bulk of the strike passed through my chest and into the dog sitting behind me, killing him. The rest of the lightning curled down my right arm and struck the boy seated next to me, then danced wickedly about the tent, burning holes in sleeping bags and striking the two other boys.

But I knew nothing about this. In my mind, at least, I ceased to exist.

After some time I became aware of myself again. I began to be able to hear, although I could not see or move any part of my body. As if from a great distance I could hear the three boys screaming. I heard my son cry out, “Dad, please don’t die!” One of the boys leaned over and gave me a single puff of artificial respiration. The other promised God he would never do another bad thing in his entire life if Brother Davis would just wake up.

But I couldn’t wake up. I could only lie there, helpless, wondering what in the world had happened to me.

Then I became aware of something else—a dark presence I can only describe as impending death. I felt myself starting to leave mortality and realized my only hope was divine intervention. I fought with every fiber of my being to call on Heavenly Father.

Then a most interesting thing happened. Before I could call on Father, He called on me. Through the unmistakably clear voice of the Spirit, He encouraged me with these simple words: “You served a valiant mission. Ask in confidence.”

Heavenly Father knew I needed extra faith at that moment. He knew I had faith in Him but lacked faith in myself as a worthy recipient of the miracle I so desperately needed. So he sent me that encouraging message: “You served a valiant mission. Ask in confidence.”

I exerted every ounce of faith I had in a fervent, frenzied prayer. Heavenly Father responded by immediately freeing me from death’s grip. I regained consciousness and the strength, several hours later, to hike off the mountain with my boy, his friends, and the body of our dog.

I do not tell you this story for the sake of mere drama, nor to boast about my personal missionary prowess. I assure you I was no more valiant than most missionaries. I tell you this story because of the significance of the Lord’s choice of words to me: When my life literally hung in the balance, all that mattered were my two years of obscure service in the villages of Argentina.

How grateful I was I had decided to go on a mission and that I had worked hard once I got there! I remembered the words of my great BYU stake president, Robert K. Thomas: “If you’re almost worthy, almost willing to make the sacrifice, you’ll almost get the blessing.” I wondered what the Lord would have said to me on that mountain had I almost decided to serve a mission.

I attended Kahuku High and Intermediate School until the 10th grade, and then my parents said we were moving to the big city of Honolulu, where I was also raised by the Auwaiolimu and M?noa Wards.

I then attended the private Punahou School, the same school that U.S. President Barack Obama attended. It was a very difficult transition, socially and academically, as one of three new 10th graders. I remember eating lunch alone in the bathroom because I didn’t have any friends at first, and it seemed like most of my peers already had their cliques. I especially struggled with mathematics and received Ds and Fs my first quarter. I was physically and mentally working as hard as I possibly could, but I still wasn’t passing. There were many times I thought about giving up, but each time someone—a coach, teacher, friend, family member, Heavenly Father—said, “Keep going, you can do it!” From my childhood experiences, and at Kahuku and Punahou, I learned that Heavenly Father’s world is a textbook filled with stories from mountains to sea—and that what occurs outside of the classroom is equally important as what occurs inside.

I have always been fascinated by the wild outdoors. I love the mountains. I love the ocean. I love the rivers. I love the animals. I think that God’s creations are almost beyond any description in their beauty and value.
When I was 16 years old I wanted to see more of the outdoors, so my mother gave me permission to work in Alaska for the summer. I rode an old propeller plane there and found a job working in a grocery store.
I worked with a lay minister who was quite interested in converting me to his beliefs. Day after day we discussed the scriptures, but it was hard for me to defend my faith because, frankly, I didn’t know it well enough. I struggled to explain the Joseph Smith story and the revelations he had received in a way the minister could accept.
I finally realized I needed some help. So I looked up the full-time missionaries in the area and asked them if they would teach me more about the gospel. That summer I often spent an hour or two with the missionaries before talking with the minister, who had become a very good friend.
One particular night I awoke from sleep. I felt concerned that I couldn’t teach the gospel very well, even though I was coming to know it was true.
Outside the summer sun was shining the brightest fluorescent colors on the Alaska mountain range. The clouds hovered about two-thirds of the way up the slope, making it look like the mountain was floating in the air. It was one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. It is hard to describe the beauty I saw and the reverence I felt for Heavenly Father’s creations.
I dropped to my knees and asked Heavenly Father to hear my prayer. I sincerely wanted to know that the Book of Mormon was true, and I sincerely wanted to know if what my mother had taught me all those years was what I should believe. I wanted to know that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was the true Church of God upon this earth.
That night—although it was still daylight in the Alaskan frontier—I came to know that the Church is true. I came to know that the Book of Mormon is the word of God. I came to know the importance of eternal relationships with my mother, deceased father, and other family members.
I stood up the next morning a different person because I knew that I could bear my testimony—that these things had been revealed to me by the Holy Spirit. The minister couldn’t handle that. He could debate the doctrine, but he could not argue against my witness that I knew the Church was true.
Though I remembered the names of the missionaries who taught me, I lost track of them for many years. In 1998 one of those missionaries was called to be a General Authority. Elder Stephen A. West was one of the key figures in helping me gain a complete testimony of the gospel. As General Authorities, he and I were assigned to the North America Southeast Area Presidency and were able to talk about our experiences that had happened so many years ago. I shall forever remember that Alaskan adventure I experienced as a 16-year-old boy.

When the bishopric handed me a list of young single adults for the ward, I was flabbergasted.
I had graduated from high school a year early, and as soon as I did, I was called as the young single adult Relief Society representative in my ward. Not even 18 years old, I was excited but somewhat daunted.
On Sundays, a handful of young single adults would drift into our Sunday School lesson. Of varying ages and interests, they had very little to do with each other outside of church. My aim, together with the priesthood representative and our YSA advisory couple, was to strengthen and enlarge our group. We wanted the YSAs to become friends who supported and strengthened each other in their efforts to live the gospel.
And then I received the list. Page after page of names stared back at me; the percentage of active YSAs seemed tiny. I realized that this record was made up of real people who were working, studying, and struggling through the decisions inherent to young adulthood. They needed the gospel in their lives. Not only that: we needed them, too.
I set a goal to contact a certain number of people every month and started to work my way down the list. Every name was foreign to me; so, where better to start than at the top? I would report my progress at ward council each month. Phone numbers were incorrect; numbers would ring eternally; people would politely tell me they weren’t interested. My ‘progress’ consisted of informing the clerk that someone had left the ward or that we needed to track down new contact details.
One day, as the bishop listened to my report, he suddenly asked: “Have you contacted Karen?” (Name has been changed.) Surprised, I said no; Karen was quite a way down the list, and I hadn’t got that far. “I think you should call her,” he said. I noted her name along with a few others.
The month flew by, and the Saturday before the next meeting I looked at my notes and realized I hadn’t yet called Karen. No doubt it would be another failed attempt, but the bishop would want to know.
I dialed the number and jumped when she answered. Nervously, I introduced myself.
“Hi!” she said. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you!” Karen explained she had recently looked up the number of the local chapel in the telephone book and tried to phone a few times. Each time she called it just rang. I knew that feeling.
We chatted easily for a few minutes, and then I invited her to church the next day.
“Sure!” she said. “See you then!” I almost leapt with excitement!
The following morning, I was filled with trepidation. A large part of me expected Karen to get cold feet. But a few minutes before church, in walked a beautiful, smiling young woman with sparkling eyes. She greeted me with a hug. I couldn’t stop beaming.
Karen came to church every week after that. She became an active, contributing part of our young single adult group and a good friend. As we grew into a large, united group of friends, she helped to strengthen and lift others with her testimony.
All it took was the influence of the Spirit. And one—just one—phone call.

One woman tells the story of a tragedy she experienced when five of her close family members from another state were killed in a fiery automobile accident. She herself was struggling to absorb the news, trying to pack for her own little family to leave the following day for the funeral. A good friend and neighbor arrived at her door with the announcement that he had come to clean their shoes. She had not even thought about shoes.

He knelt on their kitchen floor with a pan of soapy water, a sponge, shoe polish, and a brush and soon had everyday shoes and Sunday shoes gleaming and spotless. He quietly slipped away when he finished, leaving the shoes ready to pack; even the soles were washed.

The mother says, “Now whenever I hear of an acquaintance who has lost a loved one, I no longer call with the vague offer, ‘If there’s anything I can do …’ Now I try to think of one specific task that suits that person’s need—such as washing the family car, taking the dog to the boarding kennel, or house-sitting during the funeral. And if the person says to me, ‘How did you know I needed that done?’ I reply, ‘It’s because a man once cleaned my shoes.’” (Madge Harrah, “I’ve Come to Clean Your Shoes,” Reader’s Digest, Dec. 1983, pp. 21–24.)

We need to help our children gain a sense of their relationship with Heavenly Father. They can know that each person is a literal child of God, that each is born with a divine birthright and unlimited potential. When my nephew was four years old, his father took great delight in asking him to repeat his name. Rich would ask, “Mark, what is your name?” Mark would stand up tall and answer with a happy grin, “My name is Mark Andrew Broadbent, Child of God.” When our children understand that Heavenly Father is real and that He loves and cares about each of them, they will want to walk uprightly.

Fourteen-year-old Matt Anderson from Bountiful, Utah, is one tough character to shake. Matt was diagnosed with diabetes on a Saturday. He spoke in church the next day. His mom explains, “When the bishop called and asked if Matt still wanted to speak, Matt’s reply was, ‘Sure, Bishop, it’s already written!’” Matt’s talk was on gratitude.
Matt’s positive attitude and strong testimony of the gospel are anchors in his life. “Now I’m just thankful for every day,” he says. “I’m thankful for the power of prayer.”
After receiving a blessing in the hospital, he remembers waking up during the night. “The hospital was all quiet, and I felt this real peace come over me. A true peace. And I wasn’t scared.” Matt says the priesthood blessing gave him strength to give himself shots and to start testing his blood-sugar level.
“This trial has been a blessing in my life,” Matt says. “It has made me conscious of the gospel more than ever. It has brought me closer to my mom and dad and my sister. I play sports just as much as I did before, and I’m still really close to my friends. I know we have trials for a reason.”

Mandy dropped her book beneath the tree and excitedly ran to the fence. Next door a large truck had just pulled up at the curb.
Mandy watched closely as two men began to unload furniture from the truck. She wished very hard that the new neighbors would have to have a girl her age! All the other neighborhood kids were either older or younger than she was. It would be wonderful to have a friend her own age to talk to.
As Mandy stood watching and wishing, a car pulled up behind the large truck. A man and woman climbed out—and a girl just Mandy’s size!
“Hello!” Mandy called out.
The girl didn’t answer.
“Hello, there!” Mandy called again.
The parents were busy talking to the men who were unloading the truck, and the new girl was just staring at the house. She didn’t turn around.
Mandy felt disappointed as the girl followed her parents into the house. With a sigh, Mandy sat down under the tree again and tried to read her book. She couldn’t concentrate, though. She was too busy watching to see if the new girl would come back outside.
It wasn’t until the truck was nearly empty that the neighbors reappeared. Mandy ran to the fence and tried again. “Hello!” she called out loudly.
The new girl still didn’t turn around. Her mother heard, though. She motioned to her daughter and pointed to Mandy. The girl turned and smiled.
Now that’s better. She must have been too busy thinking about something to hear me before, Mandy decided.
“My name’s Mandy. What’s yours?”
The new girl didn’t answer. Instead, she turned and motioned to her mother. The mother nodded, and they both walked over to the fence where Mandy stood.
“Hello, Mandy. I’m Mrs. Henderson, and this is Carol.”
“Hello, Carol.”
Carol smiled shyly but still didn’t say anything.
“Please forgive Carol for not speaking to you,” continued Mrs. Henderson. “She was born deaf. Because she can’t hear, she can’t speak well enough for you to understand her. But I know she’d like to be your friend.”
Mr. Henderson called to his wife, and she hurried back to the truck. Carol stayed by the fence and continued to smile at Mandy, but her eyes were looking all over the yard.
Mandy could feel her face turning hot with embarrassment. Now what do I do? she worried. How can I be friends with someone who can’t hear or speak? Carol and I can’t just sit and smile at each other all day.
Suddenly Carol turned and ran to her father. She made motions asking for help. Smiling fondly at her, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a book, and gave it to her. When Carol ran back to the fence, she pointed to the gate and looked at Mandy questioningly.
“You want to come in?” asked Mandy. Then she thought, How dumb, talking to her like that. She can’t hear me.
But Carol was looking closely at Mandy and understood what Mandy had said. She nodded her head.
Mandy nodded back and watched while Carol ran to the gate and let herself in.
Carol went quickly to the tree and sat down. She motioned for Mandy to join her.
Mandy wasn’t quite sure what to do, but Carol patted the ground beside her, so Mandy sat down and leaned against the tree trunk while Carol opened the book.
Carol pointed to the word tree in the book, then touched the tree they were leaning against.
“Tree?” asked Mandy.
When Carol could see that Mandy understood, she nodded.
Carol started to giggle, then Mandy giggled too. They laughed so hard that they both fell backward and bumped their heads against the tree.
O-u-c-h, spelled Mandy from the book.
Tears of laughter rolled down Carol’s cheeks.
This is going to be fun, thought Mandy. She pointed at the word f-r-i-e-n-d in the book and gave Carol a big hug.

Illustrations by Priscilla Lamont
“Mom,” Enzo asked, “can I have a cake shaped like a turtle for my birthday party?”
Mom smiled. “Probably. But your birthday isn’t for five months!”
“I know. Can we have a water fight at my birthday party too?”
“Sure,” Mom said.
“It will be fun! We can wear swimsuits!” Enzo said.
“That does sound fun.”
“Can I invite Matt and David and Arlo?” Enzo asked.
Mom paused. “Well, we can send them invitations. But we’re moving to Texas soon, remember? And your friends will stay in Arizona.”
Enzo frowned. He didn’t want his friends to miss his birthday! “Then who will come to my party?”
Mom gave him a big hug. “You will make friends in Texas too. When it’s your birthday, we’ll invite them. We will have a fun party with your new friends.”
“And have a turtle cake?”
Mom laughed. “And have a turtle cake.”
Enzo felt a little better. But he was still worried.
That night Enzo prayed with Mom. He asked Heavenly Father to help him find friends in Texas. Then Enzo thought about Uncle Carlos. Uncle Carlos lived in Texas! He was lots of fun to play with. Enzo had an idea.
“Mom, can I invite Uncle Carlos to my party?”
“That’s a great idea!” Mom said.
“Can I call him right now?”
Mom laughed. She pulled out her phone and called Uncle Carlos.
Enzo heard the phone ring, and ring, and—
“Hello?” It was Uncle Carlos!
“Hi, Uncle Carlos,” said Enzo. “Can you come to my birthday party? It’s in September.”
“That sounds great!” said Uncle Carlos. “I will put it on my calendar. I’m excited to see you in Texas!”
Enzo was so happy. He could hardly wait for his birthday. He already had a great friend in Texas.

Time for scripture study requires a schedule that will be honored. Otherwise, blessings that matter most will be at the mercy of things that matter least. Time for family scripture study may be difficult to establish. Years ago when our children were at home, they attended different grades in several schools. Their daddy had to be at the hospital no later than 7:00 in the morning. In family council we determined that our best time for scripture study was 6:00 A.M. At that hour our little ones were very sleepy but supportive. Occasionally we had to awaken one when a turn came to read. I would be less than honest with you if I conveyed the impression that our family scripture time was a howling success. Occasionally it was more howling than successful. But we did not give up.
Now, a generation later, our children are all married with families of their own. Sister Nelson and I have watched them enjoy family scripture study in their own homes. Their efforts are much more successful than were ours. We shudder to think what might have happened if we had quit trying.

“I feel uncomfortable; let’s get out of here,” Autumn whispered to me in the dark theater. I had never walked out of a movie before, and by normal standards, was this PG-13 movie that bad? Besides, we weren’t even 15 minutes into the show.
Two seats down, I could almost see our friend John rolling his eyes as he said, “Don’t be stupid. This is nothing!”
Autumn persisted, “Dane, this isn’t good; let’s leave.” What I should have done at that point is admit she was right and get up and walk out. Instead, I sat and thought about what to do. This had never happened to me before. I felt like everybody in the theater was watching me. They weren’t, of course, but two good friends were. John was planning on a mission. He was the one who chose the movie in the first place. If it were that offensive, wouldn’t he feel it too? I wondered what would happen to our friendship if I decided to walk out.
Then there was Autumn. We had been close friends for a few years, and I really didn’t want to offend her—not just because she was my friend and fairly sensitive, but at the time, she was also investigating the Church. I felt a bit guilty that she was the one asking to leave.
Autumn was right. The movie made us both feel uneasy, but she had been the one to speak up. Her quiet but firm resolve was admirable, even though it sent me packing for a guilt trip. The fact was I didn’t want to watch the movie either. As I continued to decide what to do, Autumn became more agitated. She then sent me an unforgettable look. I knew exactly what that look meant. It said, “Dane, you are one of my best friends, but with or without you, I’m leaving this movie!”
She didn’t care what others thought. Why should I? For all the right reasons, Autumn and I stood up and walked out of the movie theater. We walked right past John, and right past my notions that it is the member of the Church who always sets the example. It felt great. There was no regret, but so much more respect for Autumn, and for all those who stand up and walk out. I vowed never again to risk offending the Spirit for entertainment’s sake whether I was alone or with a friend.

—Michelle Beach, 19, worked for 10 weeks in a floral design shop in Darmstadt, West Germany, not far from where her father is stationed with the army.
“They really wanted me to learn, so they gave me a lot of opportunities,” she said. “I worked on displays, color selection, care and handling of flowers, just about everything they do in the shop, except that I don’t speak much German, so I didn’t have much interaction with the customers.”
She studied firsthand the similarities and differences between German and American business practices, and between European and American floral designs.
“I learned that running a shop is not an easy thing to do. But it’s an opportunity to use your talents and work hard. And,” she said, “I found out that it’s really what I’m interested in.”

I was touched by an experience that was recently related to me. A dear sister had been incapacitated for the past eight years—she could not walk or talk and was confined to bed. About six years ago, she and her husband were assigned a faithful home teacher. He asked if his wife could come over to their house every Sunday morning and stay with the invalid woman while her husband attended priesthood meeting. For six years, every Sunday this home teacher would bring his wife over to stay with the invalid sister while her husband went to his meeting. And every Sunday the home teacher’s wife would bring with her some baked goods or something special that she had made for this older couple.
Finally, this sister who had been ill passed away. When her daughter tried to express her deep love and appreciation to this loving home teacher and his wife for what they had done over the years, the wife said, “Oh, don’t thank us. It was our privilege to visit with your sweet mother. What am I going to do now? The hour and a half on Sunday morning will now be, for me, the loneliest hour and a half in the week.”

We have a good many people who have been in the ministry join this church. I had a call last week from a minister who lives in Los Angeles, who served, as he told me, for 20 years as a Baptist minister. Then he met the Mormon elders and they taught him the gospel as it has been restored through the Prophet Joseph Smith, and he gave up his ministry and became a member of the Church. He is now working in the temple there, and he called me to thank me for writing the missionary book that helped him to understand what the Lord has done in restoring his truth to the earth in this dispensation.

Upholding the standards of the Church is a daily goal for Sister Hermin of the Djakarta Selatan Branch, who has had to support her three boys alone. She was an inactive member of a Protestant church when a Latter-day Saint relative asked her if she would like to hear the gospel message.

“Her question reminded me of something that had happened ten years earlier when I was twenty years old,” says Sister Hermin. “I had asked my mother then where I could learn of the gospel of Jesus Christ. My mother had told me to be patient because the day would come, she said, when one or two people would come to my home to teach me the gospel.

“I was baptized a member of the Church in December 1985, three months after I first met the missionaries. I was married by then and had one son, Mindo. He and my husband later joined the Church.”

Eventually, a second son, Nando, was born, who joined the Church when he was old enough. Their third child, a daughter, died when she was a year old.

Losing a struggle with alcohol, Sister Hermin’s husband was unable to support his family and fell away from the Church. Sister Hermin became the family provider by selling watermelon from a street cart—something she still does. Her husband died in 1989, while she was expecting their third son, Martin.

With her three boys, she lives in a small, two-room shack sandwiched between some dilapidated shops at the edge of a busy road. She supplements her income by renting out her small home in another part of the neighborhood.

Striving to make the shack livable and a haven from the noisy world outside is a challenge. Once, a section of the shack collapsed, but her branch president helped her make repairs.

“The branch members are always available to help me if I need it,” she says. “But my greatest help comes from being active in the Church. I enjoy the lesson material, and I appreciate the spiritual education that the boys receive. My boys have been through some hard times, but their attitude toward life is good because of our activity in the Church. And family home evening isn’t just one day a week with us. We get together almost every night and read the scriptures and sing together.

“I know from experience that whenever I feel sad or troubled, if I read the scriptures and sing some hymns, my burden will be lifted, and I will be happy again.”

During summer break, I took a robotics engineering class at the high school near my home. I was one of the youngest ones in the class. On the first day our teachers put us into groups. In these groups we learned how to code robots. Coding allowed us to invent ways for robots to complete mazes. It was very hard to learn, and it took our group several days to do. Some days, people didn’t come to class, so it was just me and one other person working on our project.
On the last day, the teachers decided to do a fun game with the entire class. They gave each group 20 dried noodles and 10 marshmallows. They told us to make the tallest tower. My group only had two people that day, so a member from another group came over to help us.
Illustration by Macky Pamintuan
We worked on the tower for a long time and tried our best. The tower we made turned out a little too wide and not very tall. We felt like we could have done better. My teammates wanted to quit, but I said, “Let’s not give up.” We took all the noodle pieces from the side and placed them at the top. Little by little our tower grew!
Because we didn’t give up, we tied another group for first place. I learned that no matter how hard things get, we should never give up!

Augustina Constantie Doorson was born on July 1, 1863, on the Sarah Plantation in the district of Coronie, west of Paramaribo, in the country currently known as Suriname. She was born the day slavery was officially abolished in the country that was then known as Dutch Guiana, located in the northeast part of South America. Augustina’s mother, Molly Doorson, and Molly’s sister, Eva Doorson, were slaves on that plantation. Life for the slaves was hard and did not change for 10 years after slavery was abolished because the government had to repay each plantation owner for each person freed. The family eventually moved to Paramaribo, a larger town in Dutch Guiana, to find work.
Augustina, Molly, and Eva were ancestors of Imro Wehl, who lives in Suriname. Imro, a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, is an enthusiast of family history and spends hours finding names to add to his family tree. He started to have dreams of his great-grandmother, Augustina, who appeared to be asking for help. He remembered that his mother, Sieglien Wehl-Biezen, had also dreamed of her mother, Augustina, years before requesting her to free her but didn’t understand what the dream meant. Imro realized he was the answer to his great-grandmother’s plea for help. As a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, through the sealing power of the temple covenants for the dead, he could help her find the peace she had been waiting to receive.
Imro worked for years, gathering names of family members to add to his family tree. He strongly felt he was receiving help from ancestors on the other side of the veil. He received impressions that helped him eventually find over 90 individuals. Imro said it felt like miracles were happening repeatedly as he continued to find additional family members. Surprisingly, he even felt impressed to include the names of Augustina, Sieglien, Molly, and Eva’s former slave master, Edmund Desse, and his family. Imro said this showed him how deeply Augustina had forgiven him despite the suffering her family endured.
In September 2024, Imro and the Paramaribo Suriname District planned a 10-day temple trip to the Belém Brazil Temple. Over 20 members flew from their home country to Brazil with the names of family members ready to have their temple work done. They worked in the temple every day, all day long, except Sunday and Monday, to complete their work. They started with baptisms for the dead and finished by invoking the power of the sealing of couples to one another and the sealing of the sons and daughters to their parents. Imro enlisted the help of his fellow district members to complete the temple work for his family. Even the temple workers stayed late, after 10:00 p.m. at night, to help Imro and the group complete his work.
Sister Lusanne Libretto, a member of the group traveling to Brazil, had an unforgettable experience at the temple. She recalls, “This was my most profound moment since I joined the Church.”
Early in the morning on September 13, 2024, the group attended the temple to do baptisms for their ancestors. Lusanne was given five names to be baptized for. She sat quietly in the chapel, waiting for her husband to change his clothes while the rest of the group entered the baptistry. As she waited, she felt strangely restless, as if she was being urged to go inside and start the baptisms immediately. She said, “I literally felt that I was being pushed forward. I passed the entire group, and to the surprise of my fellow brothers and sisters, I was helped first. They wondered why I was in such a rush to pass them to the first row, and rightly so. Once I started the baptisms, the first name I was given was that of Eva Doorson [Imro Wehl’s great-aunt].”
Later that evening, when Lusanne returned for another ordinance session, she received Eva Doorson’s name again. She was amazed and felt a strong bond with the deceased woman as if Eva had chosen Lusanne to help her.
At the end of another ordinance session, Lusanne said, “I was tired, but a temple worker handed me one more name to complete in addition to the five I had already done. To my surprise, it was Eva Doorson again. With tears in my eyes, I knew with certainty that she wanted and had chosen me to do all her work at the temple. I never asked for her name, but I kept getting it pressed into my hands. Even though I was exhausted, I felt grateful that I had listened to the gentle promptings of the Spirit.”
On September 21, 2024, Imro, Lusanne, and others from the Paramaribo Suriname District returned home with gratitude for the opportunity to attend the temple and for their shared memories. Imro witnessed ordinances completed for over 90 family members, including his great-grandmother, Augustina, his grandmother, Molly, his mother, Sieglien, and his great-aunt, Eva, as well as his father, brother, and son. It was a deeply emotional experience that strengthened his bond with his family, both past and present. In his testimony, Imro said, “The best time we can spend here on earth is in the temple with our Heavenly Father.”