Gospel Story Finder

A final experience illustrates the importance of trusting in God and placing our lives in His hands. In early 1944, my father John Taylor Meha was home on final leave with seven other Latter-day Saint servicemen from the armed forces. A district conference, or hui pariha, was held at Karongata in Hawkes Bay, New Zealand. Mission President Matthew Cowley presided and invited the eight young men to join the speakers on the podium. To each one he pronounced a priesthood blessing for the preservation of their lives while on active service, conditional upon their obedience to living the standards of the Church.

The conference ended and father returned to his quarters in Nausori, Fiji. Within ten days, his aircrew of four members, piloted by Flight Lieutenant Wilbur Lange was posted to No.4 General Reconnaissance squadron, engaging in dawn and dusk anti-submarine patrols around Fiji. One Sunday evening, the NCO's were reading mail from their families just delivered that day, when an announcement was made by 2nd Pilot Cox that all airmen should attend a special meeting outside the officer's mess in ten minutes.

All available seats were taken so the men from Lange's aircrew stood at the back of the assembled. Squadron leader McSkimming explained that a fatal accident had occurred at Ohakea air station in New Zealand. No. 1 Bomber Squadron would soon leave New Zealand for action against Japanese forces in the Pacific. The Squadron leader called for a new aircrew to replace the lost aircrew and aircraft but not one officer volunteered. With no response, he promptly assigned Warrant Officer Iverson to leave the next day for Guadalcanal and wait for No. 1 Bomber Squadron to arrive. As there were no enemy aircraft operating in and around Fiji, the squadron my father flew with only needed an air gunner. "Do I have a volunteer?" asked McSkimming.

Father called out at the top of his voice, "I'll go!" He was elbowed by men on both sides and accused of being demented, "You're mad! The Japanese have Zero's there."

The next day, my father flew with Iverson's crew to wait for No.1 Bomber Squadron. Operating from Nissan Island against the five airfields protecting Rabaul, his new aircrew learned that No. 4 General Reconnaissance squadron left Fiji eight days after their departure for Guadalcanal. The squadron had returned to Auckland to replace the Lockheed Hudson aircraft with Lockheed Ventura aircraft. After passing the critical half way point, Flight Lieutenant Knoblock, upon seeing that they were approaching a tropical storm gave the order to the squadron, "Break formation and climb."

Two of the aircraft in No. 4 General Reconnaissance squadron failed to reach Whenuapai, Auckland: the aircraft and crew of Flying Officer Max Faulkner and Flight-Lieutenant Wilbur Lange. My father was an original member of Lange's aircrew, but by volunteering as a gunner on the plane flown by Warrant Officer Iverson his life was spared.

When I asked why he volunteered for a different assignment, my father simply stated that the Spirit had prompted him to throw up his hand. That his life was spared and he returned home after serving overseas for almost six years is evidence to me that with God nothing is impossible. He had honored his commitment to be obedient and God had kept his promise.

Zoey sat with her CTR 7 class in the Primary room. Sister Saxton, the Primary president, said, “Today we’re going to play a game for sharing time.”
Zoey leaned forward in her seat. She liked sharing time, especially when Sister Saxton gave the lesson. Sister Saxton always had a smile, and she knew the name of every child.
“We’re going to find good things to say about each other,” Sister Saxton said. She held up a blue beanbag. “When someone tosses you the beanbag, he or she will say something nice about you. Then you think of someone you’d like to give a compliment to and toss the beanbag to him or her.”
Zoey raised her hand. “What does giving a compliment mean?” she asked.
“It means saying something nice about someone.” Sister Saxton tossed the beanbag to Gavin. “I like the way Gavin folds his arms.”
Gavin’s grin stretched from ear to ear. He held the beanbag for a few moments before tossing it to Janine. “Janine is always smiling,” he said. “It makes me feel happy inside when I see her.”
Zoey’s teacher was the next to get the beanbag. She tossed it to Zoey. “Zoey helps new children feel welcome,” she said.
A sweet warmth spread through Zoey. She tossed the beanbag to Sister Ross, the Primary chorister. Sister Ross knew sign language and often taught the children how to sign the words of the songs. “Sister Ross makes learning the songs fun,” Zoey said.
Soon all the children and teachers had a turn.
“We can either build each other up or tear each other down with our words,” Sister Saxton said. “If we remember to use beanbag words, then we will build others up.”
Zoey thought about how she and her three brothers had argued the night before. She had wanted to watch a TV show about twin sisters. Her brothers had wanted to watch a football game. Finally, their mother came into the room and turned off the television. Zoey and her brothers had gone to bed angry with each other.
A sad feeling crept into Zoey’s heart as she remembered the unkind words she had said to her brothers. Even though they were older than she was, they often took her with them to get ice cream or go to a movie. She needed to tell them how much she loved them, even when she argued with them.
After Primary, Mom was waiting for Zoey. “How was Primary?” Mom asked.
“It was great,” Zoey said. “I’ll tell you about it on the way home. I want to find Rob, Steve, and Hyrum. I have some things I need to tell them.”

The Church introduced the Light the World program with this same idea of doing things for others. This program brought tremendous joy into my life as each good act was unwrapped every day. I was curious and excited for what the next act would be.
Day 6 challenged us to donate and while I donated blood in the hospital, I remembered my mother who passed away from cancer at 30 years old, leaving behind her three precious children. I did witness the struggle of my father to arrange for blood as her body was running short of it. While I was carrying out this act of donation, I thought to myself that someone will not have to struggle to save a life as my father did with this single act of mine.
My experience with the Light the World program has been uplifting and my faith has been increased, my testimony has been strengthened and I have definitely become closer to my Heavenly Father. An increase in family love has been witnessed by me with my purpose on this earth being more clear in serving and loving my fellow brothers and sisters.
I know this program is designed by the hand of the Lord Himself to make us better people. The Savior loves each of us equally and His only plea to all of us is to love as He did. I hope and pray that we continue to light the world all 365 days of the year, one by one as Christ did.

When our son Joshua was 18 months old, we noticed strange things in his behavior. Josh could recite almost every word of each song in the television shows he watched, but he was late learning to speak. One day my mother-in-law said that Josh showed signs of autism. Specialists told us the same thing.
My wife, Elizabeth, immersed herself in literature about autism. She also enrolled Josh in programs to help him. She was determined that he have the best possible start in life we could give him.
On days I stressed over the future, Elizabeth would calm me down. She told me that we needed to take things one day at a time.
“We need to appreciate every new thing Josh learns instead of focusing on all of the unknowns of the future,” she said.
As he grew, Josh became unruly at church. To keep him from disrupting Primary or harming children, I held him on my lap. He struggled, scratched, and wrestled with me for all three hours of church. I often came home bruised and exhausted.
“Why don’t we just leave him home from church and take turns staying with him?” I suggested.
“If we don’t continue taking him,” Elizabeth replied, “he will learn that if he acts out, he gets to leave church.” I knew she was right.
One day the mother of another family with an autistic child told me, “When Josh turns eight and gets the Holy Ghost, he’ll sweeten right up!”
I doubted her words, but when he turned eight, he received the Holy Ghost and did sweeten up—a little.
When Josh got older, he received the priesthood. He passed the sacrament, and he learned the importance of service. Members of his priesthood quorum learned a dance to an ’80s music video with Josh and performed it at a ward party.
Our ward was wonderful to Josh. Members smiled when he would pass the sacrament while doing a few ’80s dance moves.
Josh is 17 now. He is a talented musician who writes songs. He loves acting and appears regularly in school and community theater.
We are grateful to be Josh’s parents and share in his journey. We are not sure what the future holds, but we are committed to fully live each day with him.

Not only will elders quorum and Relief Society presidencies take the primary role in moving forward the work of salvation, but they will also be much more involved in ministering to, counselling with and helping men and women with their personal problems and challenges. For too long, members have gone to the bishop with every problem they have, but those best equipped to help them are the elders quorum and Relief Society presidencies. Let me give you an example of an elders quorum president who understood his responsibility to minister, to teach and to help each member.
On February 11, 2017, I attended a priesthood meeting in New Delhi, India. As the quorum meeting started, the quorum president stood before his quorum and wrote on the white board: “Shepherd’s List,” and then listed the names of four quorum members having employment challenges. He explained the difficulties that were faced by these families and asked whether anyone knew of employment opportunities for these four brethren. Immediately, hands went up, and different brothers said things like, “My company is hiring. I know that he has the skills needed. I can introduce him to the right people for an interview.” This went on for each brother facing difficulty, and employment opportunities were identified for each one.
Truly, this quorum president ministered to these brethren and their families. When his quorum members had a problem, he took it to the quorum to find help. He took the initiative and, in a kind and loving way, engaged the quorum to help each one who was in need. The power of working through the quorum to solve individual needs was evident, and there was a true spirit of love for each other. This quorum ministered to the needs of its members, and lives were blessed.

“What are you doing?” Nate asked his big sister, Jessica.
“Writing a thank-you to Grandma for my birthday present.”
“I want to write one too.”
“You don’t know how to write yet,” Jessica said. “Besides, you write thank-yous to someone who gives you a present, and it wasn’t your birthday.”
“Oh,” said Nate, rolling his tongue around in his cheek. Then he started to grin. “I know someone I can make a thank-you for. I’ll be right back.”
A minute later, Nate dumped crayons, markers, and a big sheet of plain white paper on the table.
“Now what are you doing?” Jessica sighed, moving over.
“Making a thank-you picture. I can’t write, but I can draw.”
“Who are you thanking?”
“It’s a surprise.” Nate picked up a yellow crayon, drew a round sun, and colored it in. Then he used markers to make a red house with two blue windows and a door.
Jessica peered at it. “I know who that picture’s for. It’s for Dad.”
“No,” said Nate, smiling. He drew his black cat, Pepper, and the swing hanging from their big oak tree.
“I bet that picture’s for Mom,” Jessica said.
“Nope.” Nate picked up a blue crayon. He colored birds flying in the sky, and the pond next to their house.
“I’m done,” said Jessica, putting her note into an envelope. “Now I have to write Grandma’s address on it and send it.”
“I’m done, too,” said Nate, coloring a frog by the pond.
“I bet that picture’s for your kindergarten teacher,” Jessica said.
“No,” Nate said. “It’s for someone who gives me different things every day. It’s a thank-you picture for Heavenly Father.”
Jessica smiled. “You’re right, Nate. He does give us all kinds of presents.”
“Do you think he likes my thank-you picture?”
“Sure he does. Everyone likes it when you say thank you.”
Nate smiled. “Help me hang my picture up for Heavenly Father to see. Then I’ll help you mail yours.”

It all started in 1988 when three young women from the Jacana Ward in Sao Paulo, Brazil, felt a strong desire to visit the elderly ladies who live in a nursing home near the chapel.
The initial idea turned into a continuous service project called “Adopt a Grandma” and other young women from the ward soon began to participate. Later on, more young people from two other wards were also involved. Now, there are nonmembers who help with the project.

An experience I had while working in the Hinckley Building one semester changed my life for the better. I came upon a woman whom I had seen many times walking the hallways, but never officially met. We exchanged greetings, and as soon as I introduced myself, she excitedly said, “Oh! You are a success story!” Those words took me by surprise. I thought to myself, “How could I be a success story? What is she talking about? Does she really know who I am?” All night her comment resonated in my heart and mind. I wanted to know what she meant by success story. I instantly started to think of all of the trials and failures I had experienced in my life. I had moments of embarrassment, moments of insecurity, hurt, anger, fear, and loneliness. Several scenarios crossed my mind before a powerful voice came to me and pricked my soul. It said, “You are a success story! You are a daughter of a king! You are here on earth for a purpose. Share your story!”
After that time, I began to dig deep from within and realize my divine potential and strengths. I learned to be vulnerable and not be ashamed of who I am and the challenges I have faced in my life. As I started to share my experiences, I found my identity and direction. I am proud of the refinement in my life that has sculpted who I am today. I’m not afraid to say, I have survived heartache from a divorce; I have survived physical pain from ailments and surgeries; I have survived emotional pain of losing loved ones. I have overcome spiritual pain by clinging to the gospel.

Kevin watched as his older brother and sister got ready to go to the temple to do baptisms for the dead. Kevin wanted to go too.
Dad, can I go?
You’re not old enough yet, but I’m glad that you want to go. When you turn 12, you can go too.
Kevin helped his sister pack her bag. Then he helped his brother pick out a tie.
They left, and Kevin stayed home with Mom and his baby sister, Erin.
When Erin cried, Kevin gave her a teddy bear.
I know Heavenly Father is happy with the way you are serving Him today.
But I didn’t go to the temple.
Yes, but you helped your brother and sister get ready. And you are helping me take care of Erin.
When you help other people, you serve Heavenly Father.

I guess Annabelle and I sort of grew up together. I was eleven years old when she died, just a few months ago. Dad didn’t see her one day when he was backing out of the driveway in our van. And I guess Annabelle didn’t see Dad. Not in time, anyway. Dad felt so bad. It was the first time I’d seen him cry since he bore his testimony last year at church and told about how we joined the Church.
I think we were all thinking about that this morning when we buried Annabelle under the plum tree in our backyard. Mom had wrapped Annabelle in some pretty green material, and we put her in the hole Dad had dug in the soft earth. Then we all sat quietly in a circle around the little open grave and thought about our cat. Dad called it paying our last respects.
Sunlight shined into Annabelle’s little grave through the limbs of the plumb tree. Mom said it was as though Heavenly Father was filling it with light to remind us that He is with us in our saddest moments—maybe especially then.
Dad said that we’d always be indebted to Annabelle for directing us in our own, unknowing way to the gospel of Jesus Christ and that just as that hole was filled with light, so our hearts will be, too, as we try in our own way each day to share His living truths with others.
We put some daisies from Mom’s flower garden on Annabelle’s grave, and I made a little picket fence around it out of sticks.
I know we will have other pets. Maybe a dog. Maybe another cat. Or maybe something else. But I’ll probably remember Annabelle the best—and that night on Temple Square.

Kent Bates, 15, has accomplished what few others have done. He has earned all 119 merit badges offered in the Scouting program. Kent is in the Heber City Fifth Ward, Heber City Utah Stake.
It all started when Kent and his friend, Loy Young, decided to see who could earn all the merit badges first. After much hard work and study, Kent completed his goal with Loy not far behind. Kent earned his first merit badge in swimming and his last in masonry. He built a brick fireplace in his backyard.
Some of the most difficult merit badges for Kent were in signaling and oceanography. He enjoyed learning about oceanography so much that he is joining a Sea Explorers unit. The merit badges he enjoyed the most were in bugling, theater, waterskiing, and small boat sailing.
Kent says that Scouting has played an important role in his life. “I plan to finish high school and then serve a mission. When I return, I want to get back into Scouting and help other boys just as my merit badge counselors did me.”

Elder Soares: I remember what a challenge it was during those first five years after marriage when we were trying to have children.
Sister Soares: Those years were very difficult. I couldn’t get pregnant.
Elder Soares: We had many health challenges after so much effort. That’s when we received a priesthood blessing. Later you had a surgery, and a few months later . . .
Sister Soares: Our dream came true.
Elder Soares: You got pregnant.
Sister Soares: We trusted so much in the Lord, and we recognized tangible blessings. It was not easy for the two of us, who were so inexperienced, but it has also been marvelous.
Elder Soares: While we were dealing with life, the Lord provided for our spiritual needs, giving us the peace that we needed, the comfort and ability to work, to continue on, to finish our education. It was a significant time in our lives that completely changed the direction of everything we thought we’d be doing.

When we got married, my wife and I made a decision to keep the Sabbath day holy even though we were farmers. I remember a 1978 First Presidency Message by President Spencer W. Kimball. He talked of how he rejoiced when he saw machinery sitting idle in the fields on Sunday. He spoke of how keeping the Sabbath day holy was an expression of Latter-day Saints’ faith. (See “The Sabbath—a Delight,” Tambuli, July 1978, 1; Ensign, Jan. 1978, 2.)
At the time, we shared machinery with other farmers. When you are working with others, it’s difficult to say you won’t work on the Sabbath. So we got out of combined farming and stopped raising potatoes.
On Callings
I was also the branch president. If I didn’t go to church on Sunday, I couldn’t fulfill my responsibilities. There were times I’d get up at 3:00 in the morning, milk the cows, feed the animals, and then go to church, do interviews, and get home at 5:00 in the evening. Then I would milk the cows again. By the time I finished everything it would be 10:00. I still remember those days when I’d sigh, “Finished at last.”
On Sacrifices to Keep the Sabbath
Sometimes we worked until midnight on Saturday to keep from breaking the Sabbath. We went to church the next day, often without much sleep. Once we came home from church, and a cow had gotten caught in the pasture fence and died. There were times when we had millions of yen worth of damage to our cut hay because it had lain in the rain on the Sabbath. We knew accidents didn’t happen because it was Sunday. If you worry about that kind of thing, you would never be able to keep the Sabbath. Accidents can happen anytime.
On Faith and Endurance
When the barn burned and we lost our cattle, some said, “I can’t believe you were able to get through it.” We said we couldn’t do it any other way than how we did. We just worried about keeping the Sabbath and getting over the pain. We believed that God was watching over us and blessing us.
On Growing Carrots
We planted carrots with great success. Finally we were getting some kind of order in our lives. With carrots, it didn’t matter if it rained or we took every Sunday off. We could make our own decisions. We could serve more easily in any calling we were called to.
In our business, we use a lot of part-time help. When we are really busy, our employees suggest that we work Sundays. I tell them that we just don’t work on Sundays. When our workers know that, they work hard and rarely take days off. On Sundays the younger workers spend the day with their children, and the older workers visit with their grandchildren.
On Gratitude to the Lord
Obeying God’s commandments has been important to us. We stood firmly by our decision to keep the Sabbath day holy and wouldn’t bend. As we did all that we could do, our children learned that there is a God and He blesses us. Our children really do hear and remember.
When our oldest son was serving in the Japan Fukuoka Mission, the mission president often introduced him by saying, “Elder Kawada’s father stopped growing potatoes so he could keep the Sabbath day holy. Elder Kawada was raised in a family like that.”
We feel happy when we see our children. They come to church. They have served missions and married in the temple. We are grateful to our Heavenly Father, who knows us and has blessed us.

The Lord also answers our prayers through inspired bishops. Upon my discharge from the Navy, I attended Brigham Young University-Provo. By now I was approaching my twenty-third year and was just beginning college. You can imagine what happens to men who are 23 plus. There’s just a little bit of pressure to find someone and get married. Can you imagine that? I hope you young men are listening out there…tomorrow is Valentine’s Day you know. Being aware of my responsibility to get married, I had another deep-down desire in my heart to serve a full-time mission. The pressure to get married increased as time went on and I secretly began to wonder if I would ever have the privilege of serving a mission.

The school year finally came to a conclusion and I returned to Idaho to farm with my Dad one last summer before attending graduate school year-round. I had the wonderful experience of attending my home ward. As I walked into the ward Bishop Archibald, a wonderful bishop whom I hadn’t seen in a long time, invited me in for an appointment. We visited about my experiences in the Navy and at BYU, and eventually the conversation came around to the subject of a mission and he asked me this question: “Have you ever thought about serving a mission?” I was so grateful for an inspired bishop. I said to him “Bishop, I have thought about serving a mission. And I’ve also had a lot of counsel from priesthood leaders to get married. By now I’m twenty three plus years old, and I’ve thought about both. What do you think I should do?” And he, knowing of the importance of both those things, thought for a minute. He leaned back in his chair, and as inspired bishops do, he offered this counsel, “Why don’t we read your patriarchal blessing and see what it says?” The following Sunday was fast Sunday, and he said “I’ll tell you what. I’ll drive out to the farm. Why don’t you and I fast and pray and we’ll decide after we read your blessing.” So the following Sunday came and he drove out to the farm. He and I sat down in the living room and read that wonderful patriarchal blessing. As we concluded reading the blessing, he simply looked at me and said, “The Lord wants you to serve a mission.” Each of us felt the spirit of that patriarchal blessing and knew what should happen.

As soon as the harvest was over and the plowing was finished that fall, I found myself in the Salt Lake Mission Home with a call to serve in the Michigan Lansing Mission. I was thrilled to be able to serve a mission. I think back on that experience and have to tell you that, to this day, I have wonderful feelings of gratitude for Bishop Archibald and his humility and his faith.

Later, I had a powerful reaffirmation of that inspired decision. While serving in the mission field, in April 1974, in a general conference broadcast in a stake center in Michigan, I heard President Spencer W. Kimball make this historic declaration: “Certainly every male member of the Church should fill a mission.” Can you imagine, sitting there, hearing that from a prophet of God? What a reaffirmation of the inspired direction of a good bishop. And, I might add, of a wonderful patriarch who knew what the Lord had in mind for me. So I bear my witness that the Lord answers prayers through inspired bishops.

Juan can’t remember how old he was when he started working with his dad in the fields. “The children would start going with me when they were small,” Juan’s dad, Joel, says. “They learned by watching and then doing what they could, depending on their strength and capacity.”

Mayra learned to make tortillas the same way, watching her mom and sisters until she was old enough to pitch in and help.

But plowing, planting, and tortilla making aren’t the only things being passed from one generation to the next. As Mayra’s mother, Carmela, molded and shaped tortillas, she was also giving shape to her daughter’s character. As Brother Ordoñez prepared, planted, or cultivated the ground, he was doing the same for Juan’s heart.

As the family spent time together, the children could see not just how their parents worked but how they lived. And when the opportunity arose, their parents made the gospel a topic of conversation while they worked.

But observing—and even doing—isn’t always enough. In the Book of Mormon’s first family, Laman and Lemuel heard the same things that Nephi heard from their father, and they too even went and did what their father asked. But they were missing something important, something that Juan and Mayra have—a desire to learn.

Juan and Mayra live in Patzicía, a Cakchiquel community a few hours from Guatemala City. Because many of those who buy their tortillas and seek their plowing services don’t speak Spanish, it was important to Juan and Mayra to learn Cakchiquel.

But not everyone feels that way. Cakchiquel isn’t taught in the schools. The language has been passed down from generation to generation for hundreds of years. However, in each succeeding generation there are many who don’t want to learn it or feel they don’t need it.

A desire to know is key in more than just learning a language. Lehi wanted his family to know for themselves that the gospel is true, but not all of his family wanted to know (see 1 Nephi 8:12, 17–18). In addition to hearing his father and doing what he asked, Nephi wanted to know for himself (see 1 Nephi 10:17). Laman and Lemuel, though they had obeyed their father, had done it grudgingly (see 1 Nephi 2:11–12). They weren’t interested in making the effort to find out for themselves, saying, “The Lord maketh no such thing known unto us” (see 1 Nephi 15:8–9).

As their children grew, Brother and Sister Ordoñez often wondered if their children would listen. Would they obey? Would they want to know, like Nephi? Would they pass the gospel on to their children?

It may be too early to tell. But Brother and Sister Ordoñez have reason to hope.

Their older children are starting to pass gospel truths on. And the younger children are recognizing the importance of passing the gospel on too. “It’s hard sometimes to take counsel from your parents,” Juan says. “But I’m grateful for their help.”

“They didn’t just teach me how to cook beans and make tortillas,” Mayra says. “They have taught me the right path—to follow God.”

Aurelia stood on the bank of the Mississippi River and looked back across it. Never before in her eleven-and-a-half years had she been west of the wide river, and now here she was in Iowa.
She shivered in the February cold and tucked one hand into her coat. With the other, she held George’s hand. He was only six and was her responsibility. Ellen, thirteen, and nine-year-old Catherine walked ahead with seven-year-old Howard; little Lucy rode in the wagon with Mama, who was still very sick. But Aurelia and George stood and looked back across the river to Nauvoo.
Nauvoo! How could they bear to leave their beautiful home? All was cold and gray across the river, but Aurelia remembered how the city had looked when she first saw it.
It was already a bustling, growing city when the Spencer family arrived. Thousands of people lived there, and more were coming every day. There were hundreds of log cabins and many brick homes. People were building, buying and selling, planting, working everywhere! Aurelia had never seen so many people—and most of them were Latter-day Saints.
Her family had rented a room until Papa could build a house for them. He had chosen a lot on a hill above the town, a little northeast of where the temple was being built.
Their lot, like most in Nauvoo, was big enough to plant a large garden and some fruit trees. Ellen and Aurelia had helped Papa plant the trees that first spring—peach and apple trees, Papa said, although they looked like twigs to Aurelia. She had asked Papa why he planted the tiny trees so far apart.
“They are small now,” he had said, “but if we want them to grow large and give fruit, they will need space to grow.” Aurelia had watched them grow until last year they had finally blossomed and borne fruit!
All of Nauvoo blossomed in the spring. The mud in the streets was deep enough to suck the boots right off your feet, but flowers and fruit trees bloomed in every yard. Aurelia wished she could see spring come to Nauvoo again. But the Prophet Joseph was dead, and soon his beautiful city would be deserted.
George had been too young to remember the first time he and Aurelia met the Prophet. Aurelia remembered it clearly. She had met a real, living prophet! He had come to their home to visit, and he limped very slightly when he walked, just like Papa! Papa told her later it was caused by the same illness that had caused his limp—typhus fever, which had settled in his leg.
Lucy was born there, and when Joseph saw her, he exclaimed, “Oh, what a little black head!” Even as a baby, Lucy’s hair was thick and dark. Joseph had laid his hand on Lucy’s head and blessed her. Aurelia had loved the Prophet from that moment. He was God’s own prophet and the most important man in Nauvoo, yet he loved little children and liked to be with them.
Aurelia shivered as she remembered the terrible day two years later, when Joseph and his brother Hyrum were killed by a mob in the nearby town of Carthage. Aurelia could scarcely believe that anyone could be so wicked as to kill a kind man like the Prophet.
Aurelia’s Papa had taken her to the Mansion House to see Joseph’s body. A great crowd was there, all crying and crowding to look. Aurelia couldn’t see, so Papa had lifted her up to the window from where she could see Brother Joseph one last time. That had been nearly two years ago.

Last year was challenging for me. My dad was battling cancer, and there were terrorist attacks in my city. I struggled with anxiety, wondering how I could feel peace when I feared for my spiritual and physical safety. From conference, I learned that we can find peace as we live virtuously, fill our hearts with faith, and keep an eternal perspective. I was inspired to turn to Christ in times of difficulty instead of depending on my own understanding. I know I can overcome the influences of darkness by seeking the brightness of Christ’s light.
Olivia H., 17, Belgium
About: Swimmer; enjoys service, including volunteering at soup kitchen, foster home, and school’s special education program).

Like Jim, as a young man I was privileged to have “goodly parents” (1 Nephi 1:1). They taught gospel principles and values to our family by precept and example. As a young boy I thought I had a testimony. I believed! Then came some personal spiritual experiences through faith, prayer, scripture study, and especially father’s blessings in our home that caused me to think more seriously about the principles I had been taught and believed—but even more deeply about what I was beginning to feel. I will be forever grateful to parents who helped coach me through those precious spiritual experiences. They have had a lasting impact on me and on the strength of my testimony.

One day I was talking to a friend, who is not a member of our church, and we almost got to the point where we started putting each other’s churches down, but I didn’t want it to get to that point, so I just bore my testimony and stopped. A few weeks later I got some pamphlets and magazines in the mail from her. I could have kept them so that I would know what some writers think about our church, but I didn’t. This experience made me want to be more prepared when things like this happen.Alexandria M., 15, Oregon

In Brother Oldham's Heredity class on the first day he said, "I can pretty much give you all your final grade today, but we'll go through the semester and by the end you will learn that I know most of you. The people here on the first two rows will get the A's. The people just above them will get the B's. All you people up there in the middle will get the C's and you people way up at the top, you will get the D's and F's." Of course, you can guess where I was sitting. I knew from my high school experience what kind of a student I was. I was sitting way up at the top but I said to myself that day, "He doesn't know me. He can't determine my grade on the first day. I'll show him." I worked my heart out to prove him wrong and got an A in the class from the back of the room.

It was hard, but I learned a lesson. I had never really realized how many distractions there are in a classroom between the back and the front. After that, I never chose to sit at the back of any college classroom. My GPA started to climb.