Gospel Story Finder

Every year, each member of my family picks another family member’s name out of a hat and secretly gets a gift for that person. We first got the idea from the movie Christmas for a Dollar. We tried it, and now it’s been a tradition for the past couple years.
This past year, I picked my brother’s name. At first, I thought, “Oh, great,” because we had been butting heads. But looking for a gift he would like really humbled me. After Christmas, we were best friends again.
I like our tradition because it changed my perspective on Christmas. I used to always focus on what gifts I’d get and what I wanted, but after we started this tradition, it made me focus more on thinking about my family members and the looks on their faces as they opened their gifts. I put more time and thought into giving gifts. Even before Christmastime, I try to look for things my family members will like and what I could get them.
Makenna B., 16, Oklahoma, USA

At age nine, Elizabeth had immigrated to the United States with an uncle. Her parents and their six other children planned to join them in America, but never could. She never saw them again.
Elizabeth grew up, married, and one day welcomed two Latter-day Saint missionaries into her home. A few months later, Elizabeth joined the Church. But her life was difficult. Her husband lost a leg in an accident. He also suffered from tuberculosis and glaucoma and was blind during the last fifteen years of his life.
His death left Elizabeth alone to run a farm and raise nine children. She added to the family’s limited income by working as a midwife.
Three times the family lost their home—to a flood, a fire, and a tornado. But despite her trials, Elizabeth maintained a positive attitude and shared the joy of the gospel message wherever she went.

Last May, Sister Davis and I were incredibly touched and inspired by a short video segment we saw at the BYU President's dinner that told the story of a young married student in Provo named Brian Ricks who was challenged to give back to BYU. I must admit that Sister Davis and I both related a lot to his circumstances. We also were poor students, and probably similarly would have wondered if it were even possible to start giving back to BYU while we were still students. However, Brian accepted the challenge, and he and his family made it a matter of prayer. He entered an essay contest and won $675--then promptly gave it back to BYU. He said something very insightful about his experience:
Maybe the reason they asked us as students, even as freshmen, to give to BYU was not because they needed the money, but because they wanted to give us this blessing of giving. They wanted us to have this optimism that comes from giving away.[21]
We are inspired by his faith.

Recently Sister Nelson and I were in Denmark during the commemoration of the 150th anniversary of the Church in Scandinavia. Between meetings, we took a few hours to search for villages where two of my father’s grandparents were born. They were among the early converts to the Church in Denmark.
Thanks to a good driver and a superb map, we found each town on our list and obtained treasured information. During the entire journey, my hands were riveted to that valuable map so essential to achieve our goals.
In contrast, many people travel through life without good guidance, lacking knowledge of a desired destination or how to get there. But if rapt attention is paid to a road map for a day’s journey, isn’t it also wise to pay attention to authoritative guidance on our journey through life?
The ultimate objective in our mortal journey has been revealed by our Creator, who said, “If you keep my commandments and endure to the end you shall have eternal life, which gift is the greatest of all the gifts of God” (D&C 14:7).
His gift of eternal life is subject to conditions established by Him (see D&C 130:21). Those conditions constitute a plan, or a spiritual road map. And when trouble comes, guidance is needed most. In our journey in Denmark, we met an unexpected detour that led us astray. In order to get back on course, we stopped the car. We studied the map with great care. Then we made the necessary course correction.
What if you are lost and have no map? Suppose you are alone. You do not know where you are. What can you do? You call for help. You call home. Call the Church. Pray. When connected with your help line, you learn that you need to make a climb here or a turn there to get back on course. Or you may have to go back to the beginning in order to be certain that you can get where you want to go.
We turn to Him who knows us best—our Creator. He allowed us to come to earth with freedom to choose our own course. In His great love, He did not leave us alone. He provided a guide—a spiritual road map—to help us achieve success in our journey. We call that guide the standard works, so named because they—the Holy Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price—constitute the standard by which we should live. They serve as a standard of reference, as are standards of time, weights, and measures that are kept in national bureaus of standards.
To reach our objective of eternal life, we need to follow teachings in the standard works and other revelations received from prophets of God (see D&C 1:38). Our loving Lord foresaw our need for guidance: “For strait is the gate,” He said, “and narrow the way that leadeth unto the exaltation and continuation of the lives, and few there be that find it” (D&C 132:22).
Few find the way because they ignore the divine road map provided by the Lord. An even more serious mistake is to ignore the Maker of the map. God declared in the first of His Ten Commandments, “Thou shalt have no other gods before me” (Ex. 20:3). Yet carnal man tends to let his loyalty drift toward idols.
We marvel at computers and the Internet that enable transmission of data with remarkable speed. We are truly grateful for these electronic servants. But if we let them take over our time, pervert our potential, or poison our minds with pornography, they cease being servants and become instead false gods.
False gods can only lead to dead ends. We need to follow divine direction. The Lord said, “Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not” (D&C 6:36). And the Psalmist wrote, “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path” (Ps. 119:105).
Following such counsel demands not only conviction but conversion and often repentance. That would please the Lord, who said, “Repent, and turn yourselves from your idols; and turn … from all your abominations” (Ezek. 14:6).
In your journey through life, you meet many obstacles and make some mistakes. Scriptural guidance helps you recognize error and make the necessary correction. You stop going in the wrong direction. You carefully study the scriptural road map. Then you proceed with repentance and restitution required to get on the “strait and narrow path which leads to eternal life” (2 Ne. 31:18).
Our busy lives force us to focus on things we do from day to day. But the development of character comes only as we focus on who we really are. To establish and accomplish those greater goals, we do need heavenly help.
How can we truly live, not “by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God”? (Matt. 4:4).
We begin with a determination to “liken all scriptures unto us, … for our profit and learning” (1 Ne. 19:23). If we “press forward, feasting upon the word of Christ, and endure to the end, … [we] shall have eternal life” (2 Ne. 31:20).
To feast means more than to taste. To feast means to savor. We savor the scriptures by studying them in a spirit of delightful discovery and faithful obedience. When we feast upon the words of Christ, they are embedded “in fleshy tables of the heart” (2 Cor. 3:3). They become an integral part of our nature.
As you ponder and pray about doctrinal principles, the Holy Ghost will speak to your mind and your heart (see D&C 8:2). From events portrayed in the scriptures, new insights will come and principles relevant to your situation will distill upon your heart.
You cultivate such revelatory experiences by living according to the light already given you and by searching the scriptures with pure motives. As you do so, your confidence will “wax strong in the presence of God,” and the Holy Ghost will be your constant companion (see D&C 121:45–46).
We all need guidance through life. We obtain it best from the standard works and teachings of the prophets of God. With diligent effort, we can achieve that guidance and thus qualify for all of the blessings that God has in store for His faithful children.

Visiting the African continent brought back memories of my earlier assignments to East and West Africa. I thought once again of the special fast by Church members worldwide in 1985. It provided approximately six million dollars to relieve suffering and hunger primarily in drought-stricken Ethiopia. Brother Glenn L. Pace and I witnessed firsthand the fruits of generous contributions by Church members when the First Presidency assigned us to go to Africa, assess the needs of the people, and recommend how to make the best use of these special funds.
We visited refugee camps in that arid country. The land was as barren as any I had ever seen. We visited Red Cross centers and field hospitals where the desperately ill were being cared for. Such dreadful, pitiful suffering broke our hearts. We saw sick mothers lying on cots trying to feed and comfort their children, many of whom had the sunken eyes and pencil-thin arms and legs of those in the advanced stages of starvation. This was one of the most heart-wrenching experiences of my life. I had never seen anything that touched my heart so deeply as the anxious yearning for food and nourishment that I saw there.
Brothers and sisters, even as people in Ethiopia were starving physically because of the lack of food, far too many people in the world are starving spiritually. Sadly, most of them have no idea where to find real spiritual nourishment. They wander to and fro—another form of pathetic refugees. Those who yearn for true spiritual light and knowledge can only find it through the power of the Holy Ghost. The Spirit enlightens and gives understanding of the eternal purposes of life. By the Spirit, Church members know the restored gospel of Jesus Christ is true. We should, therefore, feel compelled to share our spiritual knowledge with all of our Father’s children by inviting them to pull a chair up to the Lord’s table and feast on the words of Christ.
“Come unto the Holy One of Israel,” wrote the great Book of Mormon prophet Jacob, “and feast upon that which perisheth not, neither can be corrupted, and let your soul delight in fatness.” Later Nephi urged his followers to “feast upon the words of Christ; for behold, the words of Christ will tell you all things what ye should do.”
God’s chosen prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley, recently said:
“Every member of this church is an individual man or woman, boy or girl. Our great responsibility is to see that each is ‘remembered and nourished by the good word of God’ (Moro. 6:4), that each has opportunity for growth and expression and training in the work and ways of the Lord. …
“This work is concerned with people, each a son or daughter of God. In describing its achievements we speak in terms of numbers, but all of our efforts must be dedicated to the development of the individual.”
For The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to fulfill its divine mission to assist in bringing “to pass the immortality and eternal life of man,” all members need to generate an appetite for gospel sustenance. We must “hunger and thirst after righteousness” before we can be filled. We need to cultivate spiritual strength within ourselves before we can ever hope to engender it in others. Individual, personal testimony of gospel truth, particularly of the divine life and mission of the Lord Jesus Christ, is essential to our eternal life. “And this is life eternal,” said the Savior, “that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou has sent.” In other words, life eternal is predicated upon our own individual, personal knowledge of our Father in Heaven and His Holy Son. Simply knowing about them is not enough. We must have personal, spiritual experiences to anchor us. These come through seeking them in the same intense, single-minded way that a hungry person seeks food.
Once again quoting President Hinckley:
“The gaining of a strong and secure testimony is the privilege and opportunity of every individual member of the Church. The Master said, ‘If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself’ (John 7:17).
“Service in behalf of others, study, and prayer lead to faith in this work and then to knowledge of its truth. This has always been a personal pursuit, as it must always be in the future.”
We must fortify ourselves before we can ever hope to offer spiritual nourishment to others. Once we have nourished ourselves with the good word of Christ and feasted personally at His table so that our testimony is strong and vibrant, we are obligated to join with the missionaries in a balanced effort to invite others—beginning with our families—to the spiritual banquet. As the Lord said to His beloved Apostle Peter, “When thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren.” And again speaking to Peter, the Savior asked: “Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? Peter was grieved because he said unto him the third time, Lovest thou me? And he said unto him, Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee. Jesus saith unto him, Feed my sheep.”
If we are obedient to the Savior’s command given to Peter, we will focus our attention on the spiritual growth and development of those for whom we are responsible. Feeding the Lord’s sheep requires each of us to awaken our interest in others. The duty to invite others to partake of the gospel feast does not rest only on the shoulders of the missionaries. That sober and significant duty belongs to each member of the Church, for “it becometh every man who hath been warned to warn his neighbor.”
Today our prophet is calling for enthusiastic and dynamic love for our Heavenly Father’s children. He asks us to see the spiritual hunger around us and to respond by willingly sharing our abundance. No power on earth can accomplish as much as one righteous man or woman or boy or girl.
The home and family have vital roles in cultivating and developing personal faith and testimony. The family is the basic unit of society; the best place for individuals to build faith and strong testimonies is in righteous homes filled with love. Love for our Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ is greatly enhanced when the gospel is taught and lived in the home. True principles of eternal life are embedded in the hearts and souls of young and old alike when scriptures are read and discussed, when prayers are offered morning and night, and when reverence for God and obedience to Him are modeled in everyday conduct. Just as the best meals are home cooked, the most nourishing gospel instruction takes place at home. Strong, faithful families have the best opportunity to produce strong, faithful members of the Church. The recent proclamation to the world on the family, issued by the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, makes very clear that the family is ordained of God. The proclamation warns that the disintegration of the family will bring upon individuals, communities, and nations the calamities foretold by ancient and modern prophets (see Ensign, Nov. 1995, 102).
The family is where the foundation of personal spiritual growth is built and nurtured; the Church, then, is the scaffolding that helps support and strengthen the family. While the Church is secondary to the family in teaching gospel principles, much spiritual learning and growth come through the Church. For example, carefully planned sacrament meetings should be a spiritual feast in which we worship and learn of our Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Bishops, if your sacrament meetings are less than a banquet of spiritual nourishment, I urge you to invite suggestions from your ward council, especially the sisters, on ways to make every sacrament meeting a more reverent, spiritual experience. Let the council also help teach our members that the chapel is a special place in our buildings where we come in a spirit of respect for God and reverence for His holy Son. Let the quiet, peaceful promptings of the Holy Spirit abide in our worship services, causing spiritual enlightenment and nourishment to flow into our lives.
Whether we are teaching in the home or in the Church, we must keep a clear vision of the gospel’s eternal purpose. Not long ago I experienced the kind of faith and spiritual strength the gospel provides when an 18-year-old sister, who was fighting for her life in a battle with cancer, asked me for a blessing. She said: “Brother Ballard, I am not afraid to die. I would like to live. There are things I would still like to accomplish in this life, but I know that Jesus is my Savior and my Redeemer. During these past few years He has become my best friend. I trust Him, and I trust you as His representative. Whatever He wants for me, I am prepared.”
We pled for a miracle but at her request left the matter with Heavenly Father. She died shortly thereafter with the peace of the Lord attending her and her faithful family.
Brothers and sisters, we should teach revealed principles and inspired doctrine in our homes and in our Church meetings. Every parent and class instructor should be well prepared to teach the gospel by the power of the Spirit to ensure that testimonies are renewed and understanding of life and life eternal is fortified.
The First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles ask leaders to emphasize constantly, in priesthood quorums, auxiliaries, and stake and ward councils, the preeminence of the home and family. That is where scriptures are studied and prayers are offered regularly so all family members will strive to follow the Savior in all things.
Leaders also need to emphasize that all adult members of the Church should strive to become worthy to receive the ordinances of the temple. Members should identify their ancestors and perform the sacred temple ordinances for them.
Parents and leaders need to do everything possible to prepare each young man to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood and the ordinances of the temple and to serve a full-time mission. Likewise, young women need to prepare to make and keep sacred covenants and receive temple ordinances. Making and keeping sacred covenants in the house of the Lord is the most delicious course at the Lord’s table. It is the ultimate, satisfying spiritual feast of the gospel of Jesus Christ in mortality; it has eternal consequences. Our living prophet has expressed his great vision of those who qualify for temple ordinances, keep temple covenants, and serve regularly in the house of the Lord:
“We would be a better people,” President Hinckley said. “There would be little or no infidelity among us. Divorce would almost entirely disappear. So much of heartache and heartbreak would be avoided. There would be a greater measure of peace and love and happiness in our homes. There would be fewer weeping wives and weeping children. There would be a greater measure of appreciation and of mutual respect among us. And I am confident the Lord would smile with greater favor upon us.”
Through His prophet, God has promised to replace the spiritual hunger that plagues mankind with untold bounty from His own table. All He asks is that we come unto Christ and then do all we can, through our families and with the support of the Church, to help all of our Father’s children succeed spiritually in this critical journey of mortality.
“Behold,” said the Lord, “I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.”
I testify to you that Jesus is the Christ. He lives and invites everyone to partake of the joyful feast of the gospel. Joseph Smith is the prophet of the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ in these latter days. May we all be blessed, my beloved brothers and sisters, with an increased desire to seek after and feast on the things of the Spirit, I pray humbly in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

In France, it isn’t unusual to see sleek sports cars whizzing around the streets. But it is unusual to see a large family van driving down the road—with a father, a mother, and seven children squeezed into it.
Many families in France have only one or two children. People are often surprised to learn that Bishop Michel Küsseling and his wife, Pascale, have seven.
The Küsselings live near Paris, in Gournay, a beautiful town of about six thousand people. They are members of the Torcy Ward, Paris France East Stake. There’s a row of child-sized bicycles in their driveway. In the backyard are trees to climb and a slide to play on.
There are four boys and three girls in the family. Julien (13) is a deacon who likes to swim. Jérome (12) is also a deacon; he likes to swim and to play the piano. Next come twin girls (10): Claire plays the flute and likes ballet; Laurence also plays the flute but prefers swimming to dancing. Marie (9) likes to dance and to play the piano. Christophe (6) is learning judo, and Nicolas (4) likes to play ball.
“I always wanted to have a large family, even before I was a member of the Church,” Sister Küsseling said. “I love children.”
“The most difficult time,” Bishop Küsseling laughed, “was when Marie was born, and the twins were only a year old. We suddenly had three girls nearly the same age. They became a little jealous of each other because I had three girls to hold and only two knees to hold them on!”
Large families can have lots of challenges but also lots of blessings. On the challenging side, sometimes the children need to have patience when Mom and Dad are busy with the others. And sometimes brothers and sisters tease one another.
On the positive side, there’s always somebody to play with or to work alongside. “I’ve always had lots of brothers and sisters,” says Laurence. “For me, it seems normal. It’s nice to have older children and younger children in the family. That way, we all learn from each other and help each other.”
And there are plenty of family members to share assignments for family home evening. “We try to give each child a responsibility every Monday evening,” Sister Küsseling said. “Someone leads the music; someone tries to find something for the lesson; somebody makes a treat for refreshments. They all try to participate.” Family home evening is also a time to share things the children have learned or made at church.
The twins love to go to Primary. “I learn about Jesus, about His life and what He did,” Laurence said. “And we learn about Joseph Smith. He translated the Book of Mormon and organized the Church when it was restored. I believe he was a prophet.”
The children enjoy stories from L’Étoile (now the Liahona), the Church magazine in French. They also read the scriptures together and have family prayer. And they love to sing. Laurence’s favorite song is “Love One Another.”* Claire’s favorite is “Silent Night.”† “I love Christmas,” she says, “because we remember the birth of Jesus and can all be together. That’s important to me.”
Bishop Küsseling has been a member of the Church all his life. As a young man, he served a mission in New Caledonia, an island in the South Pacific. Sister Küsseling, a counselor in the ward Primary presidency, was baptized sixteen years ago and is the only member of the Church in her family. Brother and Sister Küsseling were married in the Bern Switzerland Temple. Claire said that it’s a wonderful feeling to know that their family can be together forever.
Claire is also thankful for many other blessings that come with being a member of the Church. When she was three years old, she became extremely ill and began having seizures. “We were very frightened,” says Sister Küsseling. “Her dad gave her a blessing, and then we took her to the hospital. The next day she was well. She hasn’t had any seizures since.”
Claire can’t remember that incident, but she knows that she was healed through the power of the priesthood. She does remember another time when the priesthood was especially important in her life—when her father baptized her. “It made me happier than before,” she said. “I knew that my sins could be forgiven.
“I have seen my father bless and baptize the children in our family, and bless other people in the ward who are sick or need a blessing. He also gives us blessings when we start a new year at school. When he does, I know I will have a good year at school.”
Laurence said, “I believe that Heavenly Father hears me when I pray. He has answered my prayers. We prayed when our father lost his job a month and a half ago. We all prayed for him to get a new job, and he got a new job in two weeks!”
Both Claire and Laurence like to study math, and both are good students. Although they are the only Latter-day Saints in their school, they have learned to choose friends who have similar standards and values, and they have talked with some of them about the Church. “Since my parents and relatives are not members of the Church,” says Sister Küsseling, “the children often bear their testimonies to their uncles, aunts, cousins, and grandparents.”
And they try to show by their actions that they are followers of Jesus Christ. For example, they often help their neighbor, an elderly man who lives alone. They help carry his groceries into his house because they worry that he might fall. And they help feed his dog. In return, he lets them eat cherries from his tree.
“I’ve learned in church to be polite,” Laurence said. “The gospel teaches me to be kinder to people around me, including my family.”
Most of all, Claire and Laurence each want to be the kind of mother their own mother is. They are glad to be part of a family that people notice. Some may notice the Küsselings because of the size of their family or because of the car they drive. But more importantly, people notice them for their love for one another and for their efforts to live the gospel.

A new senior companion faced a sophisticated woman lawyer who was polite but very intellectual. When the missionary asked her who the boy prophet saw in the column of light, she answered, “I am an atheist.” The elder didn’t really understand the implication, so he repeated the question. She answered again, “I am an atheist. You want me to say that Joseph Smith saw the Father and the Son, but I do not believe in God.”

The elder had never encountered an atheist before, and his first impulse was to give up and leave, but the Spirit said, “No, she will listen. Just answer the questions for her.” So the elder proceeded and said, “You are right. He saw the Father and the Son.” He continued with the presentation, but instead of asking questions directly, he asked them indirectly and answered them himself for her.

At the end of the presentation he taught her how we pray, and then courageously asked her to kneel with them and to be the voice. She did kneel and did pray to her Heavenly Father. Never again did she say that she was an atheist. She and her family subsequently were baptized.

Despite having been raised with a solid foundation of daily scripture study, as an adult I have had periods where I have struggled to keep this up. Falling behind, I would devote a few hours to study as much as possible. Like a recharged battery, that spiritual nourishment would keep me going for a few days. But every day that I let that study slip by the wayside, the light that I felt would diminish. At that point, I’d commit to another one-off study session. And so, the pattern continued. However, inspired by the introduction of the Come Follow Me programme in 2018, I have established a pattern of daily study. I feel strengthened and uplifted in a way I never have had before. The feeling of closeness with my Saviour and Heavenly Father that such study has brought me is indescribable—my hope grows, and I have been able to have peace amidst the turbulence of life.

I didn’t really mean to bring the cow to Primary that Sunday morning. I didn’t even know who the cow belonged to. On my way to Primary, this silly Holstein cow suddenly lumbered up behind me, mooing at the top of her lungs.
“Go home!” I shouted, trying to shoo her away. “Go home!” Not that I knew where her home could be. Cows usually didn’t just wander around our small town.
I ducked my head and started jogging, hoping that none of my friends would see or hear the noisy cow following right on my heels. But things only got worse. Rounding the corner, I saw Sister Allred, my Primary teacher, sitting on the church steps, crying.
Now I’ve really done it, I thought. Sister Allred is already a nervous wreck because of our class’s behavior. And now I’ve brought a cow to Primary! I thought about last week’s Primary class. It had been so bad that I’d even told my dad about it. Tony and Jimmy had been throwing chalk, tipping over chairs, and snickering whenever Sister Allred asked a question.
“In my day,” Dad had said, fuming, “those boys would have gotten a good whipping with a willow branch for not respecting their elders.”
I could almost feel the sting as he spoke. But I hadn’t told him the complete story. Scott and I had been in on those pranks too. Sure, I wanted to be nice to Sister Allred, but being part of the group was even more important to me.
“Hello, Phillip,” Sister Allred called, wiping her eyes with a tissue.
“Hello,” I murmured, hoping that she would mistake the cow for an extraordinarily large Dalmatian.
With her eyes all teary and puffy, Sister Allred didn’t look as pretty as she usually did. I had always thought that widows were supposed to be ancient. But Sister Allred wasn’t much older than Mom.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, hoping that her tears had blocked out the sight of the cow.
“Oh, nothing, really,” she said, starting to sniffle again. “I’ve just been thinking that maybe I’m not the right person to teach your Primary class.”
“I know how you feel,” I said. “The last teacher who resigned from our class dubbed us the ‘Frightful Four and Sweet Emily Clawson.’” I squirmed when I said “Frightful Four,” because there were only five boys in our class and Brian Tennyson never came. That meant that I was one of the Frightful Four, and right then I wasn’t particularly proud of it.
Suddenly the cow planted her forelegs on the step right beside Sister Allred and mooed loudly in her ear.
I was aghast, but Sister Allred didn’t seem to mind. “Phillip,” she said, “you never told me that you had a cow.”
Just then I saw Sister Parkin, the Primary president, and a redheaded boy heading toward us. Where can I hide the cow? I agonized.
But Sister Parkin looked right past the cow and shouted to Sister Allred above the cow’s mooing. “I want you to meet another member of your class.”
I looked at the redheaded boy, who was staring at the ground.
“This is Brian Tennyson,” said Sister Parkin. Then she fled.
My heart seemed to skip a beat. So this is Brian—the boy Mom and Dad are always telling me I should fellowship. While I was staring at him, a rubber band whopped the side of my head. I turned and saw Tony and Jimmy gleefully loping toward me.
Now I was in real trouble. I was caught between an obnoxious cow, a crying teacher, a shy boy who needed my example, and the two worst terrors of the Primary. To make matters worse, Emily Clawson came bouncing up to Sister Allred and smugly announced, “I read all the scriptures that you talked about last week.”
“Say, Emily,” taunted Tony, “we’ve finally found another girl to read scriptures with you.” He jerked his thumb toward the cow. “Want to ride her into class?”
Sister Allred cleared her throat and said, “I think that we can manage without the cow.”
After opening exercises, the lesson started with no major catastrophes, but only because Scott’s dad stood just outside the door for a while. The loudest sound came from Emily answering questions. I wondered how long it would last. It didn’t last long. Suddenly there was a terrible bellowing outside our window. The cow had found us. She was stamping her hooves and mooing louder than ever.
“I know what’s wrong with that cow!” Sister Allred exclaimed. “It’s past her milking time. The poor thing’s in pain.” She started gathering up her lesson materials.
My eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
“Why, I’m going to milk her,” Sister Allred replied. “I can just as well teach a lesson outside while I’m milking.”
“You know how to milk a cow?” chortled Tony.
“I used to do it all the time when we had the farm,” she answered.
Tony wrinkled his nose and gave one of his “Oh, sure” looks to Jimmy.
“But I need your help. Would you and Jimmy please find me some pans in the meetinghouse kitchen?” she said.
“Who, me?” said Tony, pointing at himself unbelievingly.
“Yes, you!”
Grumbling, Tony and Jimmy shuffled down the hall.
Brian tugged hopefully on Sister Allred’s sleeve. “May I help too?”
She smiled. “You and Phillip can find me some paper towels and a pan of warm water.”
The bellowing cow was dripping milk in a puddle by the time we gathered around her. Sister Allred stroked the cow gently. “Don’t worry, Bossie. We’ll take care of you.”
Tony and Jimmy brought half a dozen pans from the kitchen, and I brought warm water in the biggest bowl I could find. We thought that we had lost Brian until we saw a cowlick of red hair sticking up behind a tremendous moving pile of paper towels.
“It looks as if we’re well stocked,” laughed Sister Allred. “Now, does anyone know what we do first?”
Brian was standing beyond the circle of the group. Finally he cleared his throat. “I know,” he offered shyly. “You need to wash the cow’s udder with that warm water.”
“That’s right,” said Sister Allred. “Have you milked cows before?”
“No,” replied Brian. “But my grandpa used to have cows, and I watched him.”
Soon everyone was helping to wash and dry the cow’s udder—everyone except Tony. I could see him hanging back, watching us silently.
“What’s next?” asked our teacher.
“Milking!” we exclaimed in unison.
Expertly, Sister Allred began to squeeze the cow’s teats with both her hands. Thick, warm milk squirted into a pan. Soon she pushed back her chair. “Anybody else want to try?”
“I do!” Brian piped up. A freckled grin creased his face as he squeezed a trickle of milk into the pan.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Tony edging closer. He began patting the cow’s neck. He cleared his throat again. “Before he died, my grandpa told me about milking cows too. He said that it’s important to always be gentle and kind to them.”
Sister Allred smiled. “Tony, I’m certainly glad that you’re here today. You’ve just taught my Primary lesson. It’s about being gentle and kind.” She chuckled. “Well, it doesn’t exactly talk about cows. But it does say that we should be gentle and kind to everyone, and that must include cows.”
“Does that also include Primary teachers?” blurted out Brian.
Sister Allred looked at Brian in surprise. “Yes, I suppose it does.”
“Of course, it’s easy to be kind to you. You’re the best Primary teacher I’ve ever had!” He lowered his voice. “You know what else? You’re the best cow milker I’ve ever seen.”
Sister Allred leaned down. Her smiling blue eyes looked prettier than I’d ever seen them. “You know what, Brian? I bet you can all learn to be great cow milkers.”
Soon we were all taking turns milking, even Emily. We must have lined up a dozen times.
“Wow,” said Tony, “I wish my grandpa could see me now.”
Suddenly we heard a voice behind us. “Anybody want a job? I never guessed that I was going to find my cow in the hands of such good milkers.”
We all looked up. A stooped old man was gazing at the pans filled with warm, creamy milk.
“I heard that my cow had headed in this direction, but I never thought that she’d get this far.” He paused and rubbed his gray chin. “I’m serious about that job offer. I can’t even get this much milk out of her myself. Oh, you wouldn’t have to milk very often—only when my wife and I want to get away for a day or two. Betsy here is our last cow, and we don’t want to give her up. She’s mostly a pet.”
“I’d love to milk her,” said Brian.
Tony ground the toe of his shoe into the dirt and motioned toward Sister Allred. “I wouldn’t mind doing it if our teacher helps us. She’s real good at milking. I’m sure that you could trust us to be gentle and kind to Betsy.”
Sister Allred smiled and put her arm around Tony. “I think that my five boys, Emily, and I could handle a job like that.”
I patted the black and white cow, and Betsy gave a final, contented moo.

Trying to protect himself from the cold, Manco hunched with bent knees and pulled his pointed knit cap tightly over his ears. He was glad his brightly woven poncho hugged his body. A fierce wind swept up the rocky canyon, and there was snow in its breath.
Impatiently, Manco shifted his weight. When will Papacome? he wondered. He promised me that it would be today. The boy’s stiff fingers touched the bamboo flute that had been tucked into his belt earlier that morning.
“My son,” his father had said with just a trace of a smile pulling at the corners of his wide, wind-wrinkled mouth, “here is the flute I have been carving for you. Today, I will teach you to play it.”
Manco felt a flush of pleasure as he remembered his father’s words. His father was Túpac, the finest flute player in the region—perhaps in all Peru!
Manco carefully noted the location of each of the family’s llamas and alpacas. When he was certain that the flock was safe, he drew the flute from under his poncho.
Túpac had carved the tiny finger holes and the mouth hole with the greatest care as he hunkered down by the cooking fire in their home high on the mountainside. He and his family grew corn and potatoes on the steep slopes there, and he and Manco climbed even higher each day to tend their small herd.
Manco put the polished wood to his lips. He wanted to send a shimmer of sound—a sound like the ones his father made—into the crisp air. But he knew he could not. He would wait until Túpac returned and taught him how to do it properly. And, he thought, I will someday be the finest flute player in all Peru. Someday my fingers will fly over the tiny holes, rippling like the birdsong I will play. And someday the women will weep at my songs of mourning, even as they shed tears when Papa played for Sinchi, who was called to the land of spirits.
Manco stood suddenly. He saw a small, dark speck descending the white ridge high above him. As the speck grew larger, the boy could see his father’s bright red cap against the snow, his face bent down to protect it from the icy blasts. He was struggling awkwardly to keep the wind from blowing him off the ridge.
The boy quickly scanned the hillside. One of the young animals was missing! Why had he not noticed it before? He had failed in his task. Now he knew why his father was having such trouble coming down the mountainside; now he could see the young llama gathered securely into his father’s warm poncho.
Suddenly Papa uttered a sharp exclamation. His legs twisted under him. Snowslide!
The snow enveloped Papa’s dark figure, and Manco could see him no more. Manco plunged toward the rocky canyon that split the shoulder of the mountain. It would take a long time to descend to the bottom, then climb upward to where the snow had buried Papa.
Manco thought of going for help, but he knew there wasn’t time. Papa needed someone now, and Manco was the only one there.
When the boy reached the snow line at last, his arms and legs were like stones. His hands were bleeding, and his eyes were blurred with stinging perspiration and with his own tears. If only he could find Papa, he would never again fail to perform his tasks.
Searching the mass of snow and debris before him, Manco couldn’t see Papa anywhere! But wait—above the gasps of his own breathing, Manco heard a low moan. Swiftly he climbed higher and a little to the right. He saw a large, rough mound of snow moving slightly. “Papa?”
The boy tore at the snow with his bare hands. First he uncovered the young llama, which hobbled over to join the flock as soon as it was freed. Then Manco’s rapid digging uncovered an arm, then Papa’s shoulders, then his capped head. Túpac’s face was a strange color. His eyes were closed.
“Papa? Can you hear me?”
Túpac’s eyelids fluttered, then closed again. The look of tenseness and pain never left his face.
Manco pushed the snow from around his father’s limp form. He knew that he would not be able to get Papa home—it was too far.
There’s a shelter just over this ridge, he remembered. It’s only made of fallen tree limbs and branches, but it will be warmer there and out of the wind.
As Manco struggled to lift his father to a sitting position, Túpac came to and cried out with pain. But he struggled to his feet, saying, “I think that with your help, Manco, I can make it to the shelter.”
Evening shadows hurried behind them as they made their way over the ridge. A few meters before they reached the shelter, Túpac slumped to the ground, overcome by pain and by his exertion. Manco was forced to drag his father the rest of the way.
Manco laid his father on a hastily made bed of leaves. He took off his own poncho and covered Túpac with it. Then he quickly cleared a space near his father, built a small fire, and set out to get help.
Manco soon found his uncles, who climbed up the mountainside and carried Túpac to his home. The boy’s mother and Cora, his sister, carefully tended to Túpac, cleaning and bandaging his wounds, and giving him soup to eat, and administering medicine. Manco watched anxiously until he saw his father fall into a relaxed sleep. Then the boy went to his own bed, exhausted.
It was late the next morning when he opened his eyes. His father, still in pain but feeling better, spoke his name.
“Yes, Papa?”
“The flock—is it safe?”
“No, Papa. I—I left them on the mountain.”
“You are the man of this house now,” his father told him. “Gather them and care for them. Go. And God be thy friend.”
Manco could not believe his ears. He was “the man of this house now”? But it was his negligence that had caused Papa’s accident. Papa knew why Manco hesitated, yet he had called his son, who had erred, a man. The boy’s eyes stung suddenly. He bent over his father to hide tears of gratitude. “Yes, Papa. Thank you,” he whispered.
Manco stood, feeling somehow taller and older. He would not fail Papa this time. He would care for the herd alone.
Manco put on his poncho, pulled his cap over his ears, and went to the rough-hewn door.
“My son?” Túpac lifted himself slightly.
“Yes, Papa?”
“When you return, I shall teach you to be the finest flute player in all Peru.”

I hold in my hand a first-edition copy of the Book of Mormon. It was printed in 1830 on a hand-operated letter press at the E. B. Grandin Company in the village of Palmyra, New York.
In June of 1829, Joseph Smith, then 23 years old, called on 23-year-old Mr. Grandin in company with Martin Harris, a local farmer. Mr. Grandin had three months earlier advertised his intent to publish books. Joseph Smith provided pages of a handwritten manuscript.
If the content of the book did not doom it to remain obscure, the account of where it came from certainly would. Imagine an angel directing a teenage boy to the woods where he found buried a stone vault and a set of golden plates.
The writings on the plates were translated by use of a Urim and Thummim, which is referred to a number of times in the Old Testament and described by Hebrew scholars as an instrument “whereby the revelation was given and truth declared.”
Before the book was off the press, pages of it were stolen and printed in the local newspaper, accompanied by ridicule. Opposition was destined to excite mobs to kill the Prophet Joseph Smith and drive those who believed him into the wilderness.
From that very unlikely beginning to this day, 108,936,922 copies of the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ have been printed. It has been published in 62 languages, with selections of it in another 37 languages, and 22 more translations are in process.
Now 60,000 full-time missionaries in 142 countries pay their own way to devote two years of their lives to testify that the Book of Mormon is true.
For generations it has inspired those who read it. Herbert Schreiter had read his German translation of the Book of Mormon. In it he read:
“When ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.
“And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.”
Herbert Schreiter tested the promise and joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
In 1946, released as a prisoner of war, Herbert returned to his wife and three little daughters in Leipzig, Germany. Soon thereafter, he went as a missionary to Bernburg, Germany. Alone, without a companion, he sat cold and hungry in a room, wondering how he should begin.
He thought of what he had to offer the war-devastated people. He printed by hand a placard which read, “Will there be a further life after death?” and posted it on a wall.
About that same time, a family from a small village in Poland came to Bernburg.
Manfred Schütze was four years old. His father had been killed in the war. His mother, with his grandparents and his mother’s sister, also a widow, and her two little girls, were forced to evacuate their village with only 30 minutes’ notice. They grabbed what they could and headed west. Manfred and his mother pulled and pushed a small cart. At times, the ailing grandfather rode in the cart. One Polish officer looked at the pathetic little Manfred and began to weep.
At the border, soldiers ransacked their belongings and threw their bedding into the river. Manfred and his mother were then separated from the family. His mother wondered if they might have gone to Bernburg, where her grandmother was born, perhaps to relatives there. After weeks of unbelievable suffering, they arrived in Bernburg and found the family.
The seven of them lived together in one small room. But their troubles were not over. The mother of the two little girls died. The grieving grandmother cried out for a preacher, and asked, “Will I see my family again?”
The preacher answered, “My dear lady, there is no such thing as the Resurrection. They who are dead are dead!”
They wrapped the body in a paper bag for burial.
On the way from the grave, the grandfather talked of taking their own lives, as many others had done. Just then they saw the placard that Elder Schreiter had posted on the building—“Is there further life after death?”—with an invitation from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At a meeting, they learned of the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ.
The book explains:
The purpose of mortal life and death;
The certainty of life after death;
What happens when the spirit leaves the body;
The description of the Resurrection;
How to receive and retain a remission of your sins;
What hold justice or mercy may have on you;
What to pray for;
Priesthood;
Covenants and ordinances;
The office and ministry of angels;
The still, small voice of personal revelation;
And preeminently, the mission of Jesus Christ;
And many other jewels that make up the fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
They joined the Church. Soon their lives changed. The grandfather found work as a baker and could provide bread for his family and also for Elder Schreiter, who had given them “the bread of life.”
Then help came from the Church in the United States. Manfred grew up eating grain out of little sacks with a picture of a beehive on them and peaches from California. He wore clothes from the welfare supplies of the Church.
Soon after I was released from the air force, I went to the welfare mill at Kaysville, Utah, to help fill bags of wheat for shipment to the starving people in Europe. I like to think one of the bags of grain that I filled myself went to Manfred Schütze and his mother. If not, it went to others in equal need.
Elder Dieter Uchtdorf, who sits with us on the stand today as one of the Seventy, remembers to this very day the smell of the grain and the feel of it in his little-boy hands. Perhaps one of the bags I filled reached his family.
When I was about 10, I made my first attempt to read the Book of Mormon. The first part was easy-flowing New Testament language. Then I came to the writings of the Old Testament prophet Isaiah. I could not understand them; I found them difficult to read. I laid the book aside.
I made other attempts to read the Book of Mormon. I did not read it all until I was on a troop ship with other bomber crew members, headed for the war in the Pacific. I determined that I would read the Book of Mormon and find out for myself whether it is true or not. Carefully I read and reread the book. I tested the promise that it contained. That was a life-changing event. After that, I never set the book aside.
Many young people have done better than I did.
A 15-year-old son of a mission president attended high school with very few members of the Church.
One day the class was given a true-or-false test. Matthew was confident that he knew the answers to all except for question 15. It read, “Joseph Smith, the alleged Mormon prophet, wrote the Book of Mormon. True or false?”
He could not answer it either way, so, being a clever teenager, he rewrote the question. He crossed out the word alleged and replaced the word wrote with translated. It then read, “Joseph Smith, the Mormon prophet, translated the Book of Mormon.” He marked it true and handed it in.
The next day the teacher sternly asked why he had changed the question. He smiled and said, “Because Joseph Smith did not write the Book of Mormon; he translated it. And he was not an alleged prophet; he was a prophet.”
He was then invited to tell the class how he knew that.
In England, my wife and I became acquainted with Dorothy James, the widow of a clergyman who lived at the Close of Winchester Cathedral. She brought out a family Bible which had been lost for many years.
Years before, the possessions of a family member had been sold. The new owner found the Bible in a small desk that had remained unopened for over 20 years. There were also some letters written by a child named Beaumont James. He was able to find the James family and return the long-lost family Bible.
On the title page my wife read the following handwritten note: “This Bible has been in our family since the time of Thomas James in 1683 who was a lineal descendant of Thomas James first librarian of the Bodleian Library at Oxford, who was buried in New College Chapel August 1629. [Signed] C. T. C. James, 1880.”
The margins and the open pages were completely filled with notations written in English, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. One entry particularly touched her. From the bottom of the title page, she read, “The fairest Impression of the Bible is to have it well printed on the Readers heart.”
And then this quote from Corinthians: “Ye are our epistle written in our hearts, known and read of all men: Forasmuch as ye are manifestly declared to be the epistle of Christ ministered by us, written not with ink, but with the Spirit of the living God; not in the tables of stone, but in fleshly tables of the heart” (2 Cor. 3:2–3).
My Book of Mormon also has many notes in the margins and is heavily underlined. I was in Florida once with President Hinckley. He turned from the pulpit and asked for a copy of the scriptures. I handed him my copy. He thumbed through it for a few seconds, turned and handed it back, saying, “I can’t read this. You have got everything crossed out!”
Amos prophesied of “a famine in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord.”
In a world ever more dangerous than the world of little Manfred Schütze and Dieter Uchtdorf, the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ has the nourishing power to heal starving spirits of the world.
Manfred Schütze is now a member of the Third Quorum of Seventy and supervises our seminaries in Eastern Europe. His mother, now 88, still attends the temple at Freiberg, where Herbert Schreiter once served as a counselor to the president.
With Elder Walter F. González, a new member of the Seventy from Uruguay, I attended a conference in Moroni, Utah, a town with a Book of Mormon name. There is no doctor or dentist in Moroni. They must leave town to shop for groceries. Their students are bused to a consolidated high school across the valley.
We held a meeting with 236 present. Lest Elder González see only ordinary rural farmers, I gave this sentence of testimony: “I know the gospel is true and that Jesus is the Christ.” I asked if someone could repeat it in Spanish. Several hands went up. Could someone repeat it in another language? It was repeated in:
Japanese
Chinese
Finnish
Spanish
Tongan
Maori
German
Italian
Polish
Portuguese
Tagalog
Korean
Russian
Dutch
French—15 languages
Again in English: I know the gospel is true and that Jesus is the Christ.
I love this Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ. Study it and one can understand both the Old Testament and the New Testament in the Bible. I know it is true.
In this 1830 edition of the Book of Mormon, printed by 23-year-old Egbert B. Grandin for 23-year-old Joseph Smith Jr., I read from page 105: “We talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins.”
And that, I assure you, is exactly what we do. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Lately I have been falling into a “spiritual slump.” I had not been saying my prayers or reading the scriptures like I should. I was also letting some of the negative attitudes from school affect how I was treating my family and how I judged things. Then, in the New Era, I saw the scripture Doctrine and Covenants 19:28: “Thou shalt pray vocally as well as in thy heart; yea, before the world as well as in secret, in public as well as in private.” I was curious why we should pray vocally. I had always known I should have a prayer in my heart, but I had never heard of praying vocally besides at church or during family prayers.
I was curious, and something told me I should pray out loud. The next day, when everyone else was gone from the house and I was alone, I went up to my room to try it. I cleaned my area of the room so I could kneel down and think of the Savior and my Father in Heaven. I started my prayer by thanking Heavenly Father for my blessings. Praying out loud was kind of awkward at first, so I stumbled over my words and felt a little silly, only hearing my voice.
I repented for the little things and then opened my mind a little more and started repenting for being disrespectful to my parents sometimes. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I knew I hadn’t obeyed the Lord and was not keeping His commandments to the best of my abilities. I opened my mouth and prayed for forgiveness more earnestly than I had ever done before. I asked to be forgiven for all the times I had not said my prayers because “I was too tired” or “it was too late at night,” for the times I hadn’t read my scriptures for the very same reasons, for not keeping my mind and my heart clean so I could be worthy to be an example to others, and for not being as kind and loving to my family as they are to me. Realizing all I had done, I began to cry. I felt warm inside. I knew the Lord had forgiven me, I knew He loves me, and I knew that He wants to comfort me and have me feel of His love.
I continued my vocal prayer and thanked Him for the many blessings He has given me. I had realized just how important the Atonement of our Savior Jesus Christ is. It is in His name that we communicate with our Heavenly Father as much as we want (see 3 Nephi 18:18–20). We can turn to Him whenever we need guidance, help, or comfort.
I know that my Father in Heaven loves me and wants me to return to Him. And I can—as long as I just hold on.

I live in Vanuatu, a group of islands in the South Pacific Ocean. I was excited to turn eight and be baptized and confirmed.
But I was worried about getting baptized in the ocean. The waves are fun to play in, but I wasn’t sure about being baptized in them. My mom and I went in the ocean by our house to see what it would be like, and I knew it would be OK.
We chose the day when I was to be baptized, and I was so excited. But then a cyclone came close to our island. We had to call the branch president and cancel my baptism.
Even though there was a little flooding from the cyclone, we were able to go to church that Sunday. The branch president announced that I would be baptized the next Saturday.
On Saturday morning, the waves were really big, so I was kind of scared. We had a meeting at my house, and then we all walked down to the beach. I had asked my cousin Josh to baptize me.
Josh lifted me over the waves as we walked in, but as I was getting baptized, the waves were calm. I think that while Josh said the baptism prayer, Jesus calmed the water for me.
As we walked out of the ocean, the waters got rough again, but I didn’t mind because I was already soaked completely. I’m so glad that I could follow Jesus’s example by being baptized. I know that Heavenly Father hears my prayers.

As a young husband and father, David Haight attended Church meetings regularly, served in callings as requested, and enjoyed them. But there came a moment, during World War II, that was a critical turning point in his life as far as serving in the Church was concerned.
One chilly evening he left his wife and three small children standing on a landing dock off Treasure Island, in San Francisco Bay, as he flew out in a seaplane bound for Hawaii. Lieutenant Commander Haight spent a sleepless night over the dark Pacific in the noisy, vibrating airplane, thinking about what was important in his life. He realized that all that was of real value to him he had left back on the dock, and he wanted his family to be with him for eternity.
He felt his commitment to Church service had not been all that it could have been. He promised the Lord that if his life was spared through the war, he would accept whatever call came to him and do whatever it required. It represented, says his son Bruce, a new look at his life’s goals—the closing of one door, in a way, and the opening of another.

The children called the Prophet “Brother Joseph,” and he always had a smile for them. Once a group of children were playing in a home where the Prophet was hiding from wicked men who wanted to kill him. They overheard the older people tell of the Prophet’s danger, and one seven-year-old girl said, “I know what we can do. We can pray and ask our Father in heaven to keep Brother Joseph safe from harm.”
A few minutes later the Prophet went past a bedroom door in time to see the children kneeling together and to hear their simple prayer for his safety. Tears filled his eyes and then rolled down his cheeks as the children rose from their knees and one of them said, “I know Brother Joseph will be safe now.”
Then the Prophet returned to the room where his older friends had come to guard him through the night and told them that they could go to their own homes. He said he knew that the prayers of the children would be heard and answered and that he could sleep in peace that night. And he did!

Family life is like a white-water rafting trip. As families don life jackets and helmets, parents are like the river guides who have passed through this way before. Children need us to warn them of strong currents or rocks ahead. If farther down the river there might be a devastating waterfall, would we warn our children about it? Would we instruct them how to row and where to steer to divert their route, or would we wait until after they’re dangling from the cliff to warn them?
As parents, we may be uncomfortable discussing a topic as unpleasant as suicide, but we can help protect and prepare our children before they have dangerous thoughts.
Parents can help children learn to become emotionally resilient and to know where they can turn when they need emotional help. Reyna I. Aburto, former Second Counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency, taught that “this may include becoming informed about emotional illnesses, finding resources that can help address these struggles, and ultimately bringing ourselves and others to Christ, who is the Master Healer.”
Some suicides happen without any obvious warning. For some there are only subtle signs, or sometimes the signs are unmistakable. We can’t know for certain what our children are thinking, so we need to prepare them young—in case thoughts of suicide take hold in their minds.
Sister Aburto affirmed, “It is important to talk about these issues with our children, families, and friends in our homes, wards, and communities.”
Elder Dale G. Renlund of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles has taught: “Every one of us has family members, dear friends, or acquaintances who have experienced suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, or have taken their lives. … Many wards and stakes [and families] consider having a discussion about suicide prevention after someone has taken their own life. My question is—why wait? Why not do it now? Because someone in the ward or stake is having suicidal thoughts.”
I sat down with my own children several years ago after a tragedy occurred locally. I felt compelled to share with them that through Jesus Christ, there is always a way forward. There is nothing they could do, or fail to do, that would make suicide the answer. At their tender age, I had no reason to think they were at risk, but I knew there was more I could be doing to prepare my children for handling dangerous, potentially suicidal thoughts.
The Church’s resource guide for suicide prevention informs: “Talking about suicide will not make someone more likely to attempt suicide. In fact, talking openly about suicide is an effective way to help prevent suicide.”
According to John Ackerman, PhD, suicide prevention clinical manager at Nationwide Children’s Hospital, “Creating a safe space to talk about suicide can save a child’s life.” In fact, he adds, “if a child has been struggling with thoughts of suicide, knowing that a concerned adult is willing to have an open conversation is often a relief.”
“Talking about suicide in appropriate ways actually helps to prevent it rather than encourage it,” taught Sister Aburto. Her father died by suicide. For many years, she avoided talking about his death with her family. However, she has since learned the value in speaking about it honestly and plainly. “I have now openly discussed my father’s death with my children and witnessed the healing that the Savior can give on both sides of the veil.”
Open conversations about suicide can empower children to come to their parents and other trusted adults instead of trying to navigate suicidal thoughts on their own, should they ever arise.
Children as young as six or seven have reported suicidal thoughts. “It used to be that … therapists and researchers and parents didn’t believe that young kids under 10 or 11 even had thoughts of suicide,” Dr. Ackerman says. “We know that’s actually not true.” He indicates that even young children can connect suicidal ideation with feeling like a burden, being in emotional pain, or experiencing hopelessness.
Sister Aburto assured: “Knowing how to recognize signs and symptoms in ourselves and others can be helpful. We can also learn to detect inaccurate or unhealthy thinking patterns and how to replace them with more accurate and healthier ones.”
Globally, nearly one death by suicide occurs every 40 seconds, and it is the second leading cause of death in the world for people 15–24 years. In a recent study conducted among thousands of teens in Utah, USA, researchers from Brigham Young University discovered that approximately 12 percent of Latter-day Saint youth had seriously considered suicide, and 4 percent had made an attempt.
For context, in a group of 25 teens, 3 of those, statistically speaking, have seriously considered suicide, and one has made a suicide attempt.
If we can help our children find the support they need before they reach the point of crisis—when ideation turns into a plan—we may be able to help them divert course before it’s too late.
At a very young age, children can begin to comprehend feelings, but we can provide them with language to correctly describe their feelings. The first step may be helping a young child build his or her emotional vocabulary. We can teach children to understand the differences between mad, sad, frustrated, and so on. If the child can explain what he or she is feeling, we can work together from there. In an age-appropriate way, we can discuss their intense feelings with children as young as six and help them identify and address these feelings.
These early conversations will also help parents become familiar with their children’s typical range of emotions. Most children go through ups and downs in emotional well-being. This is normal. Having conversations early and often with young children can provide parents with an emotional thermometer to discern the differences between typical ups and downs of childhood and dangerous ideation.
Preventative conversations about suicide are like other preventative training parents provide. We can prepare children and youth for the possibility of experiencing suicidal ideation in the same way we might prepare them for how to drive a car and what to do in the event of an accident. “We want to prepare our kids to understand what can happen emotionally and what they might see in their friends,” says Dr. Ackerman.
As children age, the conversations we have with them will also mature. We can ask open-ended questions and then allow children to answer candidly. Encourage children to be honest with their difficult feelings. The research shows that addressing difficult emotions may reduce their intensity and duration.
Through open communication about depression, suicide, or feelings of discouragement, children learn that they can share their sincere thoughts and that they are emotionally safe with us. “They also get the unequivocal message that you care deeply about them, and their happiness and well-being matter to you,” says one mental health counselor.
Our love and support for our children can model the love Heavenly Father has for each of us. “Your Heavenly Father loves you—each of you,” taught President Thomas S. Monson (1927–2018). “That love never changes. … It is there for you when you are sad or happy, discouraged or hopeful. God’s love is there for you whether or not you feel you deserve love. It is simply always there.”
Immediately after I discussed suicide with my own children, my nine-year-old son asked if he could speak to me privately. He told me about times he had imagined taking his own life, complete with how he would do it. I never could have dreamed he was having these thoughts. I hugged him, thanked him for his bravery in telling me, and told him that no matter what he ever did or ever thought, he was treasured and needed in our family. And I committed to myself to watch him for any further signs of suicidal ideation or mental illness.
Some youth may fear that suicide is their only way out of their hopelessness. President Jeffrey R. Holland, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, assures: “However many mistakes you feel you have made … , or however far from home and family and God you feel you have traveled, I testify that you have not traveled beyond the reach of divine love. It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.”
In addition to talking to our young children, we can talk to youth following the model given by President Holland: “To any of our youth out there who are struggling, whatever your concerns or difficulties, death by suicide is manifestly not the answer. It will not relieve the pain you are feeling or that you think you are causing. In a world that so desperately needs all the light it can get, please do not minimize the eternal light God put in your soul before this world was. … Do not destroy a life that Christ gave His life to preserve. You can bear the struggles of this mortal life because we will help you bear them. You are stronger than you think. Help is available, from others and especially from God. You are loved and valued and needed. We need you!”
You and your spouse can discuss when it’s a good time to start talking about it—well before the crisis, if any, comes. You can prayerfully seek the Spirit to help guide both the timing and the words of the conversations with your children.
We are never responsible for someone else’s choice to end a life, but there are things we can do to help prevent it. As President Holland taught:
“The Only Begotten Son of God came to give us life by conquering death.
“We must commit ourselves fully to that gift of life and run to the aid of those who are at risk of giving up this sacred gift.”

I offer this as profound conviction born in the fiery crucible of life’s experience. Our second son, Adam, entered our lives when I was far away in the jungles and rice paddies of Vietnam. I still have the joyful telegram announcing his birth. Adam was a blue-eyed, blond-haired little fellow with an impish personality. As he turned five years old, Adam eagerly looked forward to starting school. Then a common childhood illness blanketed our southern California community, and Adam contracted the disease. Aside from concern for his comfort, we were not worried. He even seemed to have a light case. Suddenly one morning he did not arise from his bed; he was in a deep coma. We rushed him to the hospital, where he was placed in intensive care. A constant cadre of devoted doctors and nurses attended him. His mother and I maintained a ceaseless vigil in the waiting room nearby.

I telephoned our dear stake president, a childhood friend and now a beloved colleague in the Seventy, Elder Douglas L. Callister, and asked if he would come to the hospital and join me in giving Adam a priesthood blessing. Within minutes he was there. As we entered the small, cramped space where Adam’s lifeless little body lay, his bed surrounded by a bewildering maze of monitoring devices and other medical paraphernalia, the kind doctors and nurses reverently stepped back and folded their arms. As the familiar and comforting words of a priesthood blessing were spoken in faith and earnest pleading, I was overcome by a profound sense that Someone else was present. I was overwhelmed by the thought that if I should open my eyes I would see the Savior standing there! I was not the only one in that room who felt that Spirit. We learned quite by chance some months later that one of the nurses who was present that day was so touched that she sought out the missionaries and was baptized.

But notwithstanding, Adam made no improvement. He lingered between this life and the next for several more days as we pleaded with the Lord to return him to us. Finally, one morning after a fitful night, I walked alone down a deserted hospital corridor. I spoke to the Lord and told Him that we wanted our little boy to return so very much, but nevertheless what we wanted most was for His will to be done and that we—Pat and I—would accept that. Adam crossed the threshold into the eternities a short time later.

Frankly, we still grieve for our little boy, although the tender ministering of the Spirit and the passage of the years have softened our sadness. His small picture graces the mantel of our living room beside a more current family portrait of children and grandchildren. But Pat and I know that his path through mortality was intended by a kind Heavenly Father to be shorter and easier than ours and that he has now hurried on ahead to be a welcoming presence when we likewise eventually cross that same fateful threshold.

“The Family: A Proclamation to the World” reminds us that “Children are an heritage of the Lord.”[3] I felt this deeply during the years we lived in Asia. Shortly after moving to Hong Kong, my husband and I met with an attorney regarding our Visas. We brought our three-month-old infant to the meeting. As the attorney passed us documents to sign, he paused, tilted his head back, and told us about a dream he had years earlier.

In his dream, he was seated at a table as large as the one where we sat. He was at one end and his wife at the other. There were four to five children lining each side. His voice trailed off as he lamented that his dream was not his reality. This man reminded me that children truly are a gift.

President Heber J. Grant recognized the role of BYU in providing teachers for the Church educational system. In the depths of the 1930s depression, financial pressures caused the First Presidency to announce the closure of all Church schools, including Brigham Young University. In a meeting following the announcement, a key member of the Brigham Young University Board of Trustees asked President Grant who would provide teachers for the Church. After a moment of reflection, the president reversed his decision regarding this institution. Most other Church schools were closed or given to the public sector. From the beginning, the mandate was clear. Brigham Young University’s role was to build testimony, prepare students for their work in the world, and provide teachers and leaders for the Church.

As you are aware, whenever The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints constructs a new temple, there is a dedication ceremony held when the building is finished. The purpose of this ceremony is to set aside the building for the work of God. A Latter-day Saint dedication ceremony includes a special prayer designating the building for Church use and asking God to bless the structure and grounds.
Before the dedicatory services but part of the celebration of a new temple, the church conducts an open house. As you are aware, non-members of the church are invited to tour the Temple which includes a video explaining the purpose of temples and how they are used. [2]
Thousands of people walk through these open houses After the tour the public are invited to make comments regarding their experience. These comments are very telling and touching at times. I have been blessed to hear some of these comments as they comeback to one of the committees on which I serve. An older women who toured the Gilbert Arizona Temple shared the following comment of which I paraphrase:
“Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to tour the Gilbert Temple. The building was wonderful. I felt something I had never felt before. I was touched. When we went through the room where it was identified that marriages were performed I broke down, you see, twenty years earlier my only daughter, who had become a member of your church elected to be married in the Mesa Temple, not allowing me, her mother to be there. Imagine, one of the greatest days in a mothers life, and now I would be denied the opportunity. I was heartbroken, then my sadness turned to anger and spite. Because of this incident, my daughter and I have been estranged for over twenty years. Tonight I plan to go to her house and ask for her forgiveness, you see, if she elected to be married in a holy house like Gilbert then it must have been the Lord’s will. I want to be a part of her life and feel what she feels.” (Elder Kent F. Richards reading a comment from the Gilbert Open House, anonymous women).
One can only imagine the circumstances leading up to the decision for this young women to be sealed in the Temple, under the correct authority and thus leaving out her mother from the experience. She must have had extreme faith. She must have known the truth. She must have loved the Lord. This decision, at her young age, proved to be a defining decision for her life but also a stumbling block to her relationship with her mother here on earth. Imagine what it meant to her Father in Heaven or to the Lord that she would put them first. One would ask? How might she have come to this decision? Did she “ study it out in her mind; then did she ask the father if it be right, did she feel her bosom burn within her and thus knowing that this decision was the right course of action even though it caused years of pain within her own family. It was for her a “defining decision”.