Gospel Story Finder

I was born with Duchenne muscular dystrophy. That means my muscles will get weaker as I get older. My wheelchair comes in handy when I play soccer. I play goalie, and my chair helps me block the ball.
Even though I know that one day I won’t be able to walk anymore, I know Heavenly Father will help me have courage. And I know that because of Jesus Christ, when I am resurrected my body will be perfect and I will be able to run and move again.

Those who are baptized today still receive the gift of the Holy Ghost as a constant companion and guide if they are worthy. Nine-year-old Kendall Hand of Glen St. Mary, Florida, has felt this guidance. He recalls: “When I was baptized on my eighth birthday, I was so happy! I knew that I was following Jesus’ example. After my baptism, we had a birthday party at a nearby park. Some of my friends and family gave me money as birthday presents. I added it to what I had earned that summer, then hid it.
“When I went to get it a few days later, I couldn’t find it. I said a prayer—still no money. Weeks passed—still no money. In the meantime, I earned five dollars for helping my dad. I decided to use those five dollars to pay tithing on the money I had lost. I knew that now that I was a baptized member of the Church, Heavenly Father expected me to pay my tithing. I put the money into a tithing envelope and gave it to the bishop. It felt good.
“That Sunday afternoon I had an idea to look in my closet in a box where I keep my old hats. There was my money! Mom told me that it was the Holy Ghost who gave me that idea. She said that Heavenly Father will bless us if we try to do what’s right. It was right for me to pay my tithing.”

On the morning of the last day of school before the Christmas holidays, I had the strangest thought pop into my head. I was tying bows around bunches of gourmet candy canes to give to my friends when my mind said, “You should give one of these to Megan*.”
What a crazy idea! Megan, a very popular girl in my English class, was terribly mean. In addition to the rude things she said to me, she and her friends were always giggling and pointing in my direction. She made me feel horrible. Why should I give Christmas candy to someone like that?
Today was always the best day of the whole year at Valley Middle School. Like the last day of school in June, schoolwork would be pushed aside in favor of movies and games. But what made it even better than that was the candy we exchanged with our friends. As we went from class to class, our stacks of goodies grew and we found out who liked us enough to put us on their gift list. You could tell who the really popular kids were by their enormous piles of candy. Someone like Megan would have to bring an extra bag to carry everything. She certainly didn’t need anything from me.
I was confident I would have a respectable pile of sweets myself. I was nowhere near being part of the popular crowd, but it was a big school, and I had a large group of friends. However, because I was one of the few Latter-day Saints in the school, I really stood out. Anyone who stands out too much in middle school becomes a target for teasing, so, unfortunately, I had as many tormentors as I had friends.
It is sometimes really tough to know how to deal with people who pick on you. I had long ago decided that the best way was just to ignore them. But sometimes this just didn’t seem to work. Earlier that school year, two girls in my science class had hurt me so much with their cruel words that I finally burst and fired similar cruel words right back at them. This landed me in detention, and I spent a miserable afternoon picking up trash. Worse than the actual punishment was how horrible I felt inside. I knew my actions weren’t Christlike, and that hurt me more than anyone’s awful words ever could. After that, I stuck like glue to my old policy of keeping silent and expressionless, hoping people would get bored with me. But Megan still hadn’t given up trying to have fun at my expense, and I had been wondering recently if there were something more I could do besides just turning the other cheek.
Looking down at the candy canes in my backpack, I realized that the Spirit had just given me a solution to my dilemma. I thought of Matthew 5:44, in the Sermon on the Mount, where Christ says, “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you.”
“Well,” I thought, “it’s worth a try.” Even though the thought of doing such an unusual thing scared me, I told myself it couldn’t make the situation any worse.
I almost chickened out. It was the very end of the class period before I had the guts to approach Megan. When I called her name, she turned and looked very surprised that I was speaking to her.
“Here, this is for you.” I held out the candy.
She looked at me very suspiciously. I could tell she was trying to figure out what the trick was. I knew she thought I was trying to do something mean because she knew she’d never done anything nice to me. So I smiled and said, “Merry Christmas,” hoping she would trust me just a little bit.
She took the candy. When I turned to walk away, and it was clear that there were no strings attached, she said, “Thank you.”
I wish I could say Megan and I became friends after that. We didn’t. But she left me alone the rest of the school year, and her eyes lost that hard, malicious glint when she looked at me.
I like to hope I gave her more than just candy that Christmas. I hope that’s what happened, but maybe it didn’t. Maybe she never thought about it again. But I was changed for life after that simple exchange. I was filled with the joy of having done what Jesus would have done. The gift I gave her paled in comparison to the gift I received—a taste of charity, the pure love of Christ, a feeling sweeter than all the Christmas candy in the school.

My siblings and I grew up believing in God, but our family wasn’t religious. We did our own thing and didn’t bother to learn about our purpose on earth.
When a few relatives died, I wondered if I would ever see them again. I remembered my grandfather warning us not to sleep too much because when we die, we sleep forever, and it got me curious. Was death just a dark place of eternal sleep?
As my soul searched for the answer to what happens after death, a neighbour—a former bishop for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—sent missionaries to us. They taught my sister, Fiasili, and me the restored gospel of Jesus Christ and introduced us to the plan of salvation, which finally answered all my questions about death.
Fiasili and I were soon baptised. She was 13 years old and I was 12.
Our parents were happy for us to join the Church, but they wanted no part of it. My sister and I tried our best to regularly attend church meetings, but it wasn’t easy, especially with competing influences in our home. For example, we often had to choose between going to sacrament meeting and spending Sunday at the beach with our family.
But Fiasili and I worked to strengthen each other’s testimonies. We thought that if our parents could just accept the gospel, we wouldn’t have to live in two worlds. So, we invited the missionaries to teach them. In the process, our younger brother—and many of our cousins who lived with us—joined the Church.
It took a little longer for my parents. My sister was serving a full-time mission in Suva, Fiji, when our mother finally got baptised. Our father had actually been a less active member for many years, and it was such a joy to see them both start coming to church with us.
In 2019 I was called to the Philippines Quezon City Mission. Serving there was like living a dream—I’d always loved the Filipino culture and really wanted to learn Tagalog. But my missionary experience also taught me the true nature of our heavenly parents, and when I returned home to Samoa last year, I felt a strong desire to see my family sealed to each other for time and all eternity.
We have some work to do before we can achieve that goal. My parents are still new to the gospel and continue to learn. My brother is still finding his path, exploring if a mission is in his future. Fiasili and I continue to persevere. We are determined to “press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men” (2 Nephi 31:20), as we strive to help deepen our family’s conversion.
I sometimes wonder how my siblings and I found the gospel and have stayed committed all these years, especially without our parents. I now realise that our Heavenly Father has been guiding us all along. Even through our challenges, we have felt His hand in each of our lives, and I know that—just as He did for the Jaredites in Ether 2:7—He will not rest before we have reached the beautiful shores of that promised land prepared for us.

Upon my arrival in Misawa, Japan, I went to a Baptist missionary, but he was unable to answer my questions. He encouraged me to rely on faith, but I could no longer live on the innocent faith I had as a young man. The reality I found in the world as an adult was simply too great. I had to find the answers and I had to find them now.
I was becoming desperate, so a friend asked me to accompany him to the Far East Conference of the Southern Baptist Convention in Shimoda, believing that these learned men would be able to answer my questions satisfactorily. Enroute to the convention, my friend made what he later determined was a great mistake. We stopped in Tokyo to see his friend, Bill Head, whom he had met in Thailand. Upon meeting Bill for the first time, I realized that he was different. Without him even saying a word I knew that he had something that I wanted. He radiated confidence, peace of mind, a love for life, and a love for people. He seemed to know who he was and where he was going. He had the answers I needed so desperately.
I asked him why he was unique. Bill replied, “I am a Mormon.” He gave me some pamphlets to read, and I took them with me to that convention in Shimoda. I read the material. At first the Joseph Smith account seemed ridiculous, preposterous, almost absurd. I wanted to believe that God spoke to men today. I wanted to believe that the heavens were not closed and that God was real. I wanted to believe that he lived and cared about his children and had not left us alone to drift aimlessly through life for some mysterious end. I also knew that if ever the world needed another witness of Jesus Christ it was now. But because it was so new and because it had been such a long time since God had manifested himself to the ancients, I was skeptical.
The next morning I attended a seminar at the convention. The seminar’s purpose was to discuss the anti-Christ ideologies. The first religion they attacked was not communism or some other godless ideology, but Mormonism. They had decided among themselves that Mormons worshiped Joseph Smith and ignored the fact that the formal name of the Mormon church was The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. If that name implied anything, it implied that Mormons were Christians of the highest degree, for they were the only people I had found who claimed the name of Jesus Christ. It wasn’t the Church of Joseph Smith, John the Baptist, Paul, Mary, John Wesley, or Martin Luther. It was the Church of Jesus Christ.
I felt the Mormons were being misunderstood so I attempted to defend them. Now I probably made somewhat of a fool of myself in the minds of those learned people, but in the process of this defense, a still, small voice said, “You’d better find out more so you can do better next time.”
I left the convention that day and returned to Tokyo. I found Bill and told him I wanted to learn more. He introduced me to a young couple, the Fredericks, who taught me the missionary discussions in two days. During that glorious two-day period the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle in my mind fell together and I found myself and my true identity.
““I am a child of God!” I exclaimed to myself. “I began with him. There is purpose and dignity to life, and a great destiny beyond!” I began to realize for the first time that I didn’t have to doubt, worry, be confused, or tossed to and fro by every wind of doctrine because there is a prophet of God and twelve apostles on the earth today, just as there was anciently in the Church of Jesus Christ. I had found his Church!
Less than two weeks later, on August 12, 1970, I was baptized in Kunsan City, Korea. I know that the gospel is true. I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet and that we are sons and daughters of God.

The day after my 16th birthday I went out to my mailbox feeling that I needed a spiritual push in the right direction. There were some mysterious packages, the kind you usually receive on your birthday, but the thing that really caught my interest most was my May 1976 New Era. It’s the best birthday present I have ever received. Inside were more beautiful gifts than I could imagine. Each article said something to me or helped me do something to improve myself. “Youth Speak Out on Standards” reminded me to keep my clothes to Church standards and not think that just because I am 16 I can be slack. “Teacher, You’re My Best Friend” reminded me of how last summer I put on a play with kids six to twelve years of age, and how much those kids benefited from it. I then realized that I couldn’t let those kids down this year, and I did another play that raised 80 dollars for a charity. “How to Gain a Testimony” really shot out at me, because as an investigator I really need to realize how important it is to gain a testimony, and since then I have been striving hard for one. “Soldiers of God” reminded me to stick to the morals and values that I chose for myself four years ago—that is, to be chaste. “A Service Project with a Special Meaning” reminded me of a close call with death from which I escaped with a stronger testimony that God lives. “Hong Kong School Girl” reminded me of my Chinese friend who thinks that “there are many paths to the kingdom of heaven, and no matter which one you take, you will still get there.” That made me realize that I should share more of the Church with her. She’s interested, so I hope I will be able to let her see for herself the truths of life that I enjoy. “A Fable” built my morale and my ability to withstand criticism. Oftentimes my family members or nonmember friends are hard on me about the Church, and this article really gave me encouragement and strengthened my will not to let anyone persuade me to stop living the gospel.

Belief helped carry me through both good and bad, or difficult times in life. Shortly after I joined the church my father unexpectedly died of a heart attack. Although performing CPR on your dad at the age of 16 sounds traumatic, because of my new-found belief, faith, and confidence, it was more of a growing experience for me.

My family lost virtually everything after his passing, including our home, and I had no means to pay for college or a mission. But as I remained faithful to my covenants, and maintained my belief in the Lord, he opened all kinds of doors for me. I was able to support myself through school at BYU-Hawaii because of scholarships, and jobs on campus and at PCC, and loving Laie families, like the Kaupua, who adopted me into their home.

I have visited with a woman who received the miracle of sufficient strength to endure unimaginable losses with just the simple capacity to repeat endlessly the words “I know that my Redeemer lives.” That faith and those words of testimony were still there in the mist that obscured but did not erase memories of her childhood.
I was stunned to learn that another woman had forgiven a person who had wronged her for years. I was surprised and asked her why she had chosen to forgive and forget so many years of spiteful abuse.
She said quietly, “It was the hardest thing I have ever done, but I just knew I had to do it. So I did.” Her faith that the Savior would forgive her if she forgave others prepared her with a feeling of peace and hope as she faced death just months after she had forgiven her unrepentant adversary.
She asked me, “When I get there, how will it be in heaven?”
And I said, “I know just from what I have seen of your capacity to exercise faith and to forgive that it will be a wonderful homecoming for you.”

When I was 23, my grandmother passed away. Though she had lived a beautiful life, she was still relatively young, and her death came sooner than expected. I knew that many had lost much more than I had and that my grandma was at peace, but I still felt pain knowing I would never see her again in this life.
Through this sadness, however, I felt Heavenly Father and the Savior reaching out to me. Kind visiting teachers and friends brought sweet notes and treats, and a dear neighbor stopped by my family’s house with a book she said she felt inspired to purchase for us. The book contained quotes from apostles and prophets on the plan of salvation and the reality of life after death.
As I read the words of the prophets out loud with my sister that evening, I felt the sweetest peace settle on my heart. I knew that because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, all of us could be made clean and able to dwell with Him in the next life. I knew that “he bringeth to pass the resurrection of the dead” and that all things—and people—would be restored to their proper place (Alma 40:3; see also Alma 41:2). I knew that because of the Atonement, all the members of my family, including those who have passed on, can be together forever, and for that I will be forever grateful.
Amanda Seeley, Utah, USA

I practice baseball almost every day. I’m getting a lot better. Dad practiced with me twice, but most of the time I practice with Sam.
I have a big problem, Reed. Coach said that we’ll have final tryouts for positions on Sunday. I want to be catcher. Sam wants to be catcher too. We’re both good catchers. I think that I could beat him, but I can’t because I don’t play baseball on Sunday. Did you ever play it on Sunday?
I’ve never played baseball on Sunday, and I’m proud of your decision to keep the Sabbath Day holy. But since you don’t play on Sunday, you’ll have to work harder to show the coach how important baseball really is to you. I know that you’ll be blessed for doing what you know is right.
I’m sad about me too. I won’t be the Indian catcher this year because I didn’t go to the final tryouts on Sunday. Sam will be the catcher, and I’ll just play in the outfield. I don’t want to be an outfielder. I want to be a catcher like you. Maybe we only get blessings some of the time when we do what’s right.
I’m proud of you for doing what you know is right and for working hard on your goals. You be the best outfielder that you can be, and you’ll enjoy it. You have many years ahead of you, and you can try again for catcher another time.
Guess what! Coach says that I can be backup catcher! Sam is happy to be the regular catcher, but he told me a secret. He said that I’m a better catcher than he is! He knows how much I love baseball, and he asked me why Primary is better than baseball. I told him to come with me and find out, and he said OK!
Mom says that I’m being a missionary by example. Am I, Reed? You were right about getting blessings when we do what’s right.
I know that I just wrote to you yesterday, but two exciting things happened at church today. One was that Sam went to Primary with me! He liked it. Sister Johnson taught a good lesson about how we got the Book of Mormon, but he liked Sharing Time best because we played chalkboard baseball. We got hits when we correctly answered questions about the prophets. We could help Sam because he was a visitor, and he got a grand-slam home run. He never did that in real baseball. He wants to come again.

Lockdown during COVID-19 was challenging for our family, as I am sure it was for many of you. The circumstances of the lockdown caused a latent health challenge to surface in one of our family members. Because of the pandemic, it was exceedingly difficult to find and schedule an appointment with the very specialized type of medical professional that this family member needed. After praying about how to address this challenge, my wife was inspired to search for a specialist online. We were guided to the perfect specialist who was located in Mexico.

Due to COVID, doctors had begun meeting with patients virtually, which made it possible for this family member to get very specific help from a medical professional thousands of miles away. Lockdown was still challenging and there are certain card games my family is not allowed to play anymore, but despite the challenges, God still showed us His mercies.

The other day I was playing outside with my younger brother. As I was walking on the grass outside our apartment, I spotted something pink and shiny. I picked it up and saw that it was a pen with pictures of naked women on it. I remembered the story about pornography in the March 2004 Friend that my mom read to us during family home evening just two weeks ago. I immediately threw the pen over the fence and ran upstairs to tell my mom what happened. My mom asked me to show her where the pen was so that she could throw it away where no one else might find it. I felt good inside and knew that the Holy Ghost helped me to choose the right.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Do. Not. Cry.
This was the pep talk I recently gave myself the day before my 30th birthday. (It was a melodramatic day, to say the least.) But crying about my birthday is not out of the ordinary for me. I’ve never been a fan of growing up.
(And, in case you’re wondering, my pep talk didn’t work.)
Shocking, really.
I would turn 30, and the world would keep spinning.
So why did I feel like it was about to end?
Well for one, I struggle with anxiety. So there’s that. But I always felt like turning 30 would seal the door to my youth forever. I felt like I hadn’t accomplished enough during my 20s. And after facing challenges during that decade, I was scared of the new responsibilities and trials heading my way (possibly motherhood, a worsening chronic illness, and who knows what else).
As my anxious thoughts spiraled, I said a prayer asking God for comfort, and I started to ponder my past decade of life as a young adult.
What had I accomplished? What had I learned? How had I changed?
And that’s when I focused in on the most important thought that came to mind:
“How did I deepen my relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ during this time?”
This changed my perspective.
Being a 20-something-year-old can be a very confusing, heartbreaking, and just plain hard time. Many seem to be thinking the same thing: “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
My early 20s consisted of an ebb and flow of feelings of aimlessness, fear, loneliness, and sometimes even a sense of abandonment from Heavenly Father when my life wasn’t going the way I thought it would.
When I was 24, I felt like I was in the darkest season of my life. But words from Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf struck my soul and triggered the start of a deep change in me.
At a worldwide devotional for young adults, he said:
“When I was your age, I had no idea where my life would take me. I definitely didn’t see any dots connecting in front of me.
“But I did trust God. I listened to the advice of loving family and wise friends, and I took small steps of faith, believing that if I did the best I could in the moment, God would take care of the big picture.
“He did. …
“In Proverbs, we find this great promise: ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.
“In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths’ [Proverbs 3:5–6].
“I don’t believe there is a question mark at the end of that verse. No, I think there should be an exclamation point!”1
After hearing Elder Uchtdorf’s words at 24, I committed to using this time of life to trust in the Lord.
And, six years later, on the day before I turned 30, I was hit with the profound truth that, despite the melodrama (and the actual, difficult drama) this is what young adulthood has been for me:
Sacred.

The world is grappling with an invisible enemy which has led so many countries to lock down and regular life seems to have ground to a halt. Ghana is no exception, as I found myself in one of the lockdown areas with school activities suspended.
Amidst all this turmoil, it is very astonishing to see how leaders and members of the Church are doing all they can to keep to their covenants and to continually trust in the Lord. Friday evenings happen to be when we meet as young single adults for the eternal marriage class. Due to the threat posed by COVID-19, and the directive to stay at home, our gathering as a class seemed impossible in this difficult time. With the continual inspirations from the Lord, the instructors resorted to the use of online platforms like Zoom and WhatsApp for us to continually study and interact with each other.
In one of our classes, we discussed the topic of money and marriage. A lot of insights and experiences were shared on the platform to help us continue to know what the Lord wanted us to do. I felt this great peace of mind and I realized in a very subtle feeling that indeed God loves us and will continue to direct us towards the right paths no matter what the challenges may be. The discussion that evening was the only thing that ran through my mind that day until I went to sleep.
I realized from this experience that regardless of the circumstances we find ourselves in, we can continually do what we know to be right, share our testimonies to the people we can reach out to, and be a light that signals hope in the lives of people.
The world may be in despair, lives may be at a standstill, our faith may be challenged and pushed to the core, but one thing I know and believe in is that the redeeming and merciful alms of the Lord are not far from us and He will succor us in this time as He did for those in times past.

Let me tell you an experience I had several years ago. I was sitting in my office. I heard a commotion out in the reception area. My secretary picked up the telephone and buzzed me. She said, “There’s a couple here, Elder Pinnock, that you have been assigned to talk with.”

I could tell she was very nervous, and I said, “Have them in.” A man and a woman came into my office. Her face was tearstained.
He began pounding on my desk, “Tell her I have the priesthood, and she’s to do what I tell her to do.”
The first thing I said was, “Stop pounding on my desk.” The second thing I said was, “Brother, you do not have the priesthood.”
“Oh, yes, I do. I was given the priesthood last June.”
I said, “You don’t have the priesthood,” and I turned behind me to where my scriptures lay. I took the triple combination and turned quickly to section 121 of the Doctrine and Covenants. We could have begun in a number of places, but let’s begin with verse 36:

That the rights of the priesthood are inseparably connected with the powers of heaven, and that the powers of heaven cannot be controlled nor handled only upon the principles of righteousness.
That they may be conferred upon us, it is true; but when we undertake to cover our sins, or to gratify our pride, our vain ambition, or to exercise control or dominion or compulsion upon the souls of the children of men, in any degree of unrighteousness, behold, the heavens withdraw themselves; the Spirit of the Lord is grieved; and when it is withdrawn, Amen to the priesthood or the authority of that man.

At that time, that good sister smiled briefly. I said, “Do you understand that you don’t have the priesthood?”
He said, “I didn’t understand that before now.”
Then I said, “Let’s begin reading the 41st verse”:

No power or influence can or ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood [or any other position or title, I might add], only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned;
By kindness and pure knowledge. . . .

About this time, their hands joined as I read the next several verses:

Which shall greatly enlarge the soul without hypocrisy, and without guile.

Jumping to the 45th verse:

Let thy bowels also be full of charity towards all men, and to the household of faith, and let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God; and the doctrine of the priesthood shall distil upon thy soul as the dews from heaven.

Well, he was listening now. And we talked for the next few minutes about the importance of meekness and patience and love unfeigned. As they left, they walked out arm in arm, apparently after having learned a great lesson in life. The gospel of Jesus Christ and the priesthood that so many of us in this room bear can only be maintained and handled upon the principles of righteousness.

Cody stared at the blank piece of paper in front of him. It’s no use, he thought disgustedly. I’m never going to come up with anything, even if I sit here all day. While he sat worrying about his problem, there was a knock on his bedroom door. “Come in,” he said.
In walked Jason, his next-door neighbor and the best friend in the whole world. He was carrying a dirty orange basketball. “Come on—let’s go shoot some hoops.”
“I can’t,” Cody answered. “I have to finish my Primary talk.”
“You’re still working on that? Don’t you have to give it tomorrow?”
Cody nodded as Jason sat next to him on the bed. “What’s it supposed to be on, anyway?”
Cody frowned. “That’s the problem,” he said. “Sister Hansen said she wants me to talk about ‘My Pioneer Ancestors.’ I told her I don’t have any pioneer ancestors because my parents are both converts. She just smiled and said, ‘As members of the Church we all have pioneer ancestors, Cody.’”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason asked.
“Beats me. I’m probably the only kid in the whole Primary who doesn’t have at least one ancestor who pulled a handcart across Wyoming.”
“Why don’t you just read a story about some pioneer?” Jason asked.
“Because after she told me that business about everyone having pioneer ancestors, she told me that she didn’t want me to read some old story out of a magazine or something.”
“Boy, she really knows how to make it tough,” Jason sympathized. “I know! Why don’t you borrow one of my pioneer ancestors.”
“Great idea!” Cody slapped Jason on the back. Then he slumped down again. “Wait a minute,” he said, “that won’t work. Your mom teaches the CTRs. She’ll know what I’m doing.”
“Oh. Right. Are you positive you don’t have any pioneer ancestors? Not all the descendants of some of my pioneer ancestors stayed in the Church. Maybe one of your ancestors joined the Church, crossed the plains, then left Utah.”
Cody’s face brightened. “Maybe so. I never thought of that. Let’s go downstairs and see if anyone knows.”
Cody’s sister, Karyn, was just coming in the front door when they got downstairs. “Karyn,” Cody asked, “Do you know if we have any pioneer ancestors?”
“What kind of pioneer?” she asked, as she hung up her coat in the hall closet.
“What do you mean?” Cody asked. “How many kinds of pioneers are there?”
Karyn smiled. “Oh there are lots of kinds. My history teacher told us that a pioneer is anyone who prepares the way for others to follow.” The boys looked confused, so she explained further. “Like how the pilgrims prepared the way for others to come to America. Or how early doctors paved the way for better medicine.”
“How about Christopher Columbus?” Cody asked. “Wasn’t he a pioneer for other explorers?”
“Sure,” Karyn said, smiling. “That’s another good example.”
“I thought pioneers were only the people who pulled handcarts across the plains,” Jason said.
“Well, they were pioneers, too,” Karyn said. “Because of their great sacrifices, the Church grew strong. For many of them, the decision to join the Church affected their families for generations. That’s what made them such great pioneers.”
Cody thought for a minute about Karyn’s definition of pioneers. He was pretty sure that none of the other kids in Primary had thought of pioneers like that before. Suddenly he had a terrific idea for his talk.
“Thanks, Sis. I know exactly what I’m going to give my talk on now.”
Jason looked at him in surprise. “You do? What?”
Cody grinned. “You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out.”
The next day in Primary, Cody sat in the front of the room, watching everyone else. He saw Jason sitting with the rest of his class. They were all being more reverent than Cody had ever imagined they could be. Jason must have told them all about Cody’s mysterious talk, and they were all anxious to hear it. Then he saw his mom, dad, and sister come in and sit in the back and smile at him.
Soon Primary began. After everyone sang the birthday song, it was time for his talk. He slowly walked to the pulpit.
“For my talk, I decided to bring along a couple of real pioneers,” he said. Jason stared at Cody. The rest of the children were craning their necks, looking for pioneers. Even some of the teachers were searching for something out of the ordinary.
“These pioneers didn’t cross the ocean, or pull a handcart across the plains, or even freeze any toes or fingers. But they did suffer a lot as the first ones in their families to join the Church. Their friends and family tried to discourage them from joining. They had to change their lives. And when they were married in the temple, no one in their families could be there. I think they are as much pioneers as anyone who crossed the plains to Utah. In fact, without their pioneering spirits, I wouldn’t be standing here today. Mom, Dad, could you please come up and share your pioneer testimonies with us?”
Cody watched his mom and dad walk up to the front of the room. Karyn smiled at Cody and gave him a big wink, as if to say “Good for you!” Cody sat back and listened intently to his mother’s testimony. Maybe, he thought, someday I’ll be a pioneer, too.

My third example involves a letter I received from a student who wanted advice. When he was a freshman he had been arrested and convicted of a minor crime. After he completed a successful probation his court record was removed and destroyed. Now he wanted to go to law school. How should he answer the invariable question on all law school application forms: “Have you ever been arrested?” A truthful “yes” might keep him from realizing his dream to attend law school. Karl G. Maeser, the founding genius of BYU and one of its greatest teachers, told his students that sooner or later everyone of them “must stand at the forks of the road and choose between personal interests and some principle of right” (Brigham Young University: The First One Hundred Years, 1:591). As you would expect, I advised this student to make full disclosure of his earlier arrest, facing it at this point rather than answering dishonestly and having to bear the guilt of concealment and the risk of disclosure all his life. A year later he wrote me as follows:

I decided to take your advice and I made full disclosure on the law school application, and instead of facing a possible expulsion from a law school and a ruined career and, as far as that is concerned, a ruined life, I chose a hard route, but it’s my pleasure to inform you that I was accepted into a law school. It was difficult at first to tell this truth, but I don’t think words can express what has happened.

There was a period when I was required as an officer in the Ensign Stake to go every Friday to the temple. It was not a burden. as I had thought it would be. It became instead my joy. Slowly, because of that regularity, I was trusted with certain assignments in the temple. This meant that I could walk into the temple annex and they would all say, “Good morning, Brother Madsen”; and I wouldn’t even have to show my recommend. Not only that, but I had the privilege to sit for hours in the chapel of the annex or elsewhere, contemplative, reading occasionally, but trying to absorb, trying to breathe the air that is heavier than air in that place. There I would meditate about my critical problems, which had to do with decisions about my life’s work, decisions about the girl I should marry, and other struggles in how to cope. There were, I testify, times when I learned something about me; there were times when peace came in a decision, and I knew that that peace was of God.

By staying close to the Lord, I reestablished confidence in myself and could feel the influence of the Holy Ghost in my life. This influence soon led me to consider serving a mission. I know some people thought my desire foolish, but when I spoke with the branch president, he gave me the courage I needed. To prepare myself, I decided to read the Book of Mormon in its entirety—something I had not yet accomplished in my 12 years as a member.
However, my poor memory posed a real challenge. After starting with 1 Nephi at least 10 times and not being able to remember a thing I had read, I knew I needed a different approach. I prayed to find a solution, and soon a method entered my mind: I would write a summary of each chapter as I read it.
I bought a notebook and read the first chapter of 1 Nephi. Since I had only a vague idea of what I had just read, I read the chapter again. Only then was I able to summarize in my notebook the main ideas in that chapter.
Prayerfully, I moved on. After completing 1 Nephi, I found I no longer had to read each chapter twice; once was enough to write a good summary. I read the entire Book of Mormon this way. When I finished, I was left with a strong spiritual witness that the book is true, and I could also testify that the Lord strengthens us if we turn to Him.

During that same Saturday afternoon leadership meeting, I noticed some youth slip into the meeting and reverently and attentively listen to the teachings and discussion. I was surprised to see them, as those invited to the leadership meeting were adult district and branch council members, and typically youth are not anxious to sit through long additional Church meetings, especially when not directed at them. After the meeting, we went to meet these fine young people and to learn more about them. I was astonished to learn that they had just arrived on a public transportation bus from seven hours away. They had come straight to the meetinghouse with the desire to feel the Spirit during this weekend district conference. It was obvious that they were full of joy at being in the midst of fellow members of the Church far from their homes in the north of Namibia. Several were new converts, and several were actively preparing to serve missions despite living in a town where there was no organized unit of the Church. They were led by a wonderful returned missionary who radiates the joy of the gospel and is appropriately named Happy. Immediately following the Sunday session of the conference, this impressive group of young people would once again get on a bus for the seven-hour return journey so they could be home in time for school and work on Monday. I marveled at their willingness to journey from so far at great personal sacrifice to hear the word of the Lord and am delighted to know that now in their own town of Ongwediva, we have since organized a branch of the Church.