Gospel Story Finder

1834–1922
“[I] wish to encourage in our children a love … for all things beautiful.”
Her family joined the Church when she was six years old.
She crossed the plains with her little siblings and took care of them alone.
With the prophet’s approval, she started the very first Primary.
She supported giving women the right to vote.
Life Sketches of Orson Spencer and Others, and History of Primary Work (1898), 229.

Seventy-five years ago, on February 14, 1939, in Hamburg, Germany, a public holiday was celebrated. Amid fervent speeches, cheering throngs, and the playing of patriotic anthems, the new battleship Bismarck was put to sea via the River Elbe. This, the most powerful vessel afloat, was a breathtaking spectacle of armor and machinery. Construction required more than 57,000 blueprints for the 380-millimeter, radar-controlled, double-gun turrets. The vessel featured 28,000 miles (45,000 km) of electrical circuits. It weighed over 35,000 tons, and armor plate provided maximum safety. Majestic in appearance, gigantic in size, awesome in firepower, the mighty colossus was considered unsinkable.
The Bismarck’s appointment with destiny came more than two years later, when on May 24, 1941, the two most powerful warships in the British Navy, the Prince of Wales and the Hood, engaged in battle the Bismarck and the German cruiser Prinz Eugen. Within five minutes the Bismarck had sent to the depths of the Atlantic the Hood and all but three men of a crew of over 1,400. The other British battleship, the Prince of Wales, had suffered heavy damage and turned away.
Over the next three days the Bismarck was engaged again and again by British warships and aircraft. In all, the British concentrated the strength of five battleships, two aircraft carriers, 11 cruisers, and 21 destroyers in an effort to find and to sink the mighty Bismarck.
During these battles, shell after shell inflicted only superficial damage on the Bismarck. Was it unsinkable after all? Then a torpedo scored a lucky hit, which jammed the Bismarck’s rudder. Repair efforts proved fruitless. With guns primed and the crews at ready, the Bismarck could only steer a slow circle. Just beyond reach was the powerful German air force. The Bismarck could not reach the safety of home port. Neither could provide the needed haven, for the Bismarck had lost the ability to steer a charted course. No rudder, no help, no port. The end drew near. British guns blazed as the German crew scuttled and sank the once seemingly indestructible vessel. The hungry waves of the Atlantic first lapped at the sides and then swallowed the pride of the German navy. The Bismarck was no more.1
Like the Bismarck, each of us is a miracle of engineering. Our creation, however, was not limited by human genius. Man can devise the most complex machines but cannot give them life or bestow upon them the powers of reason and judgment. These are divine gifts, bestowed only by God.
As with the mighty Bismarck, so it is with man. The thrust of the turbines and the power of the propellers are useless without that sense of direction, that harnessing of the energy, that directing of the power provided by the rudder, hidden from view, relatively small in size but absolutely essential in function.
The clock of history, like the sands of the hourglass, marks the passage of time. A new cast occupies the stage of life. The problems of our day loom ominously before us. Throughout the history of the world, Satan has worked tirelessly for the destruction of the followers of the Savior. If we succumb to his enticings, we—like the mighty Bismarck—will lose that rudder which can guide us to safety. Instead, surrounded by the sophistication of modern living, we look heavenward for that unfailing sense of direction, that we might chart and follow a wise and proper course. Our Heavenly Father will not leave our sincere petition unanswered. As we seek heavenly help, our rudder, unlike that of the Bismarck, will not fail.

Photograph courtesy of Grant H.
I have felt inspired to strive harder to strengthen my personal relationship with the Holy Ghost and diligently listen to promptings. I have set a goal to incorporate greater sincerity into my prayers and learn how the Spirit speaks to me. I will seek to be prompted daily for simple ways to serve others. Because of conference, I want to become an instrument for good in the hands of the Lord.
Grant H., 15, Maine, USA

In about 1870, Frederick Savage, an English engineer who also invented the cranking device that makes merry-go-round horses move up and down, built the first carousel powered by steam engine. Steam power enabled larger merry-go-rounds to be built. Skilled craftsmen carved beautiful horses with flowing manes and jeweled eyes. An umbrella-shaped top was constructed over the carousel. Riders played a version of the ancient quintain, trying to grab a brass ring and win a free ride. Electricity eventually replaced steam engines, and merry-go-rounds entered their golden age.

One man I met lived simply in a tiny, little town in the middle of the Amazon. After being baptized with his family, he could hardly wait to complete a year’s membership in the Church so he could take his wife and children to the temple. The São Paulo Brazil Temple is very far from the Amazon. It usually takes four days by boat and four days by bus to get to the temple—about a week’s travel. This man was a cabinetmaker. How could he save enough money to pay for himself, his wife, and his children? Although he worked hard for many months, he made very little money.

When the time came to go to the temple, he sold all his furniture and appliances, even his electric saw and his only means of transportation, a motorcycle—everything he had—and went to the temple with his wife and children. It required eight days of travel to reach São Paulo. After spending four glorious days in the temple doing the work of the Lord, this family then had to travel seven more days to return to their home. But they went back home happy, feeling that their difficulties and struggles were nothing compared to the great happiness and blessings they had experienced in the house of the Lord.

In the spring of 2020 when missionaries around the world were returning to their home countries due to the COVID-19 pandemic, three sister missionaries from the island nation of Kiribati were serving in the Barbados Bridgetown Mission. Sister Manoua Bokai left her home to travel to the missionary training center on Dec. 31, 2018, so she only had a few months left to serve. Sister Tekimatang Auria had been serving for about six months as she started serving on Sep. 10, 2019. Sister Kiakia Barekiau, who had begun her MTC training on Jan. 14, 2020, had just arrived in Barbados on March 16.
Barbados closed due to the pandemic just a day or two after Sister Barekiau arrived. She was supposed to go to the island country of Saint Lucia, but because of the closure she stayed in Barbados. As a brand-new missionary, she and her companion taught people over the phone, by Facebook messenger, by Zoom, and through WhatsApp.
Sister Auria and Sister Bokai were in Saint Lucia when the countries closed, and people were required to stay at home. “We only had a small phone, not a smart phone for a long time,” Sister Auria said. “It was hard to teach people because we could not have a Zoom meeting or any other video chat. We could not see them; we could only talk on the phone.”

Recognizing Spencer W. Kimball as a prophet, seer, and revelator, and president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, it is proposed that we as a constituent assembly accept this revelation as the word and will of the Lord. All in favor please signify by raising your right hand. Any opposed by the same sign.
President Kimball, it appears that the vote has been unanimous in the affirmative, and the motion has carried.

I converted to the Church as a young boy of 13. One summer day in 1971, my father took me to town for our haircut. While the barber was cutting my hair, suddenly two American ladies arrived at the barbershop. They were introduced by the barber to my father as missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He told Father that they have a good doctrine that he can try investigating. At first, Father was hesitant to accept the invitation but he was finally persuaded to accept an appointment at home.
So we were taught the true gospel of Jesus Christ and were given a copy of the Book of Mormon. My parents read and pondered the sacred book. As they studied its contents, and they felt its power. They decided to be baptized with us their children.
Before becoming members of the true church, our mortal path seemed dark and hopeless, we had no knowledge of God’s plan, and we didn’t know about eternal life. Our motto was “eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we die,” but when we found the true church, our path became brighter with all the ordinances and the covenants we made with God.
Our baptism into the Church allowed us to enter the covenant path which will bring us back to God’s presence. If we continue pressing forward, keeping the commandments, and enduring to the end, we will have eternal life. We can achieve this by making, keeping, and honoring our covenants at baptism and at the temple.

I sat next to my dad in a strange new place. This church lacked crucifixes and gilded paint. There was no altar. The walls were simple, and the stand was a wooden podium that could not be considered ornate in any way. The “minister” wore a business suit instead of the robes I was used to. No statues, no candles, no procession.
I was an outsider in this church and, as my dad insisted, we were going to stay the entire three hours. This was the first time I had been to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
My dad was Catholic too, but he had been attending The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for a year. At first I felt alone and out of place sitting in the simple meeting hall, but things quickly changed. Despite the fact that my presence had not been announced, many people welcomed me and introduced themselves.
I stayed with my dad during sacrament meeting. When Sunday School began, I went to the adult class because I wasn’t sure how I would fit in with the youth. The stake president, who had become friends with my dad, was also my allergy doctor, and he had a son who was about my age. He wanted me to go with his son to Sunday School, but I was content staying with Dad the entire three hours.
Ten minutes after Sunday School began, Brent Williams, a good friend of mine who started Catholic school with me that year, walked in and recruited me to go to the youth Sunday School class. I was shocked. I just kept thinking, “No, Brent’s not a Mormon. That’s impossible.” I guess I had assumed I would never meet a Mormon outside of a church building. It’s as if I thought they couldn’t go to public schools or Catholic schools with other kids.
Now I had a best friend who was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Brent introduced me to everyone in Sunday School and, within 10 minutes, I had 10 best friends.

I read recently from a column in the Washington Post, by George Moore, who styled himself as the “hermit of Mount Vernon.” (Mount Vernon, of course, was the ancestral home of George Washington.) In this article he said, “I have spent the last twenty years of my life at Mount Vernon reducing my ignorance.” He claimed that a person never learns anything until he realizes how little he knows. In this article he makes this most illuminating observation about George Washington:

“Washington never went to school. That’s why he was an educated man, he never quit learning.”

What George Moore said of himself I suppose could be said of many of you and of myself: “I have spent more than three score years of my life reducing my ignorance.”

Therein, it is my conviction, is the challenge to all who achieve distinction in any field. Some quit learning when they graduate from a school; some quit learning about the gospel when they have completed a mission for the Church; some quit learning when they become an executive or have a prominent position in or out of the Church.

Remember, as George Moore said of Washington, “We can become educated persons, regardless of our stations in life, if we never quit learning.”

“Justin, next week is your turn to be Student of the Week!” Mrs. Mills announced. She handed him a paper explaining what he needed to do. “Can you make sure to bring your ‘About Me’ poster on Monday?”
Justin nodded and held the paper tight. Part of him felt excited. Being student of the week meant he could take Buddy, the teacher’s stuffed toy rabbit, on an adventure and bring his mom to lunch on Friday.
But part of him felt really nervous too. He did not want to stand in front of the class. Whenever Mrs. Mills called on him, he looked down at his desk while he answered so no one would pay attention to him. But next week he’d have to stand in front of the whole class and talk about himself. He’d even have to call on people and answer questions. Everyone would be looking right at him!
That weekend was full of fun. Justin took Buddy on a sleepover at his cousin’s house and drew a picture of them all together. Then he designed the “About Me” poster just right. He added a drawing of his favorite treat (brownies) and a map of places he’d visited (like California and Texas). And of course there was a picture of Justin’s family. On Sunday, Justin even set up a stuffed-animal Primary for Buddy!
But in the back of his mind, Justin kept worrying about talking to the class on Monday. What should I say? he wondered. What if I can’t talk when everyone is looking at me? What if I can’t talk loud enough?
Finally Monday morning came, and Justin said a prayer for help before heading to school with Buddy and his poster. When it was Justin’s turn to speak, his stomach was doing flips. He took a deep breath and stood up.
Please help me do this, he prayed as he walked to the front of the class. Please help me be brave.
Justin told the class all about the favorite things on his poster. When it was time to answer questions, he made sure to call on both boys and girls. Before he knew it, it was time to sit down! Justin felt great about how he’d done.
After school Mom asked Justin how it had gone.
“I was brave enough to talk a lot in class today. You know why? I prayed twice.”
On Tuesday, Justin was supposed to bring a bag with something he loved inside. He walked to the front of the class and pulled out his favorite book, about a snake who wanted to play ball with his friends. Then he flipped open the cover and cleared his throat. He read as loud as he could.

June 27th. A lot happened today, and I don’t feel much like thinking about it, let alone writing about it. But President Heber J. Grant says keeping a journal of our daily doings is important, so I better get it done.
It all started this morning when my sister, Charity, was holed up in the privy with a catalog and I had a discomfort worse than I can ever remember. So I cornered a mouse in the root cellar, put it into a fruit jar, and dropped it through a hole in the privy wall.
Charity came screaming out of there madder than bees in a poked hive! She chased me from one end of the farm to the other, but I ran so fast that she couldn’t get close enough to me to do anything more than yell. So she commenced to throw rocks. She missed me—but not the windshield of Sister Donohue’s Model T Ford! Sister Donohue was at our house, working on a quilt with Mama.
When she saw what she’d done, Charity looked like she had just witnessed the end of the world. Then she made a face at me like something I had seen in a bad dream once, and started to cry. Sister Donohue didn’t get mad at her. She just stood there shaking her head.
I hurried off to the privy, figuring that Charity was going to be too concerned with paying for the windshield to think about getting even with me. But was I wrong! The first thing I saw when I got out of the privy and went to my room was Charity—with the little box of marbles I’ve been collecting since I was six years old.
She was standing just outside my open window, holding up the box so that I was sure to see it. I ran outside, but she was gone. Then I saw her by our pet pig Thaddius’ pen. He was wallowing in the mud, which was nice and oozy from last night’s rain.
Charity smiled at me and threw my collection into the mud. By the time I got to the pen, Thaddius had stomped and rolled over the marbles good, and I could only find eight of my twenty-two. The pretty one I found under the schoolhouse steps was gone, and so was the big agate I’d won from Lenny. And every kid in school wanted that one!
I said some hurtful things to Charity and spent the next little while in my room, thinking of ways I could get even with her. And when she walked by my room, she gave me a look that said if I did any of them, I’d soon wish I’d never been born!
After lunch, Mama said that she needed Charity and me to go to the city with her. She needed me to help load the car with groceries and to crank it up. And she needed Charity to choose some material for a dress she was going to make her for a family reunion.
The drive to Salt Lake City takes about an hour. It was real quiet the whole way except for when Mama talked about getting along with one another, and about how the scarecrow in Brother McKillop’s field looked so much like him. I didn’t look at it—I’d have had to look out the window on Charity’s side, and I wasn’t about to look at her any more than she wanted to look at me.
We’d finished shopping and started for home when the car broke down. Some kind men helped us push it up the street to an automobile shop, and the man there said that he’d have it running again in a couple hours. Mama wanted to wait on the temple grounds until it was ready, so that’s what we did.
Mama and Papa were married in the Salt Lake Temple, and she said that outside of heaven or home, it was the best place to be. It is pretty there. It looks like a place where God would like to visit. Mama says that He has visited all His holy temples. She told Charity and me that when she was doing Great-Grandma Lavina’s temple work for her, Great-Grandma appeared to her and put her hand on Mama’s shoulder.
Anyway, Mama told Charity and me that we could go wherever we wanted to go on Temple Square, but to not leave it. She’d find us when she was ready to return to the shop.
Neither one of us wanted to do anything together, so Charity went one way and I went another. I ended up in the museum on the southeast corner of the temple grounds. It had a lot of neat stuff on both floors—Indian artifacts, a strand of the Prophet Joseph’s hair, his bed, little stands with glass covers that had interesting things inside. There was even a big old piano that had been buried along the trail by a family of Saints while they were crossing the plains. That was to keep it safe until they could return for it.
I would’ve enjoyed the museum more if Charity and I hadn’t been so angry at each other. It kind of ruined the feelings that kept trying to grow in me.
Finally I went and sat on a window seat in a little room called the President’s Room. People could sit in it and write postcards and things like that. I wasn’t feeling too good. I thought at first I was just tired or something. But it wasn’t that. I was feeling more and more guilty about being mad at my sister. This was such a sacred place that I couldn’t help feeling bad about feeling bad about anybody, even Charity.
An old man and lady came in. There weren’t enough places for them to sit, so I got up and walked over to the temple. It was getting pretty hot, so I sat in the shadows of those big walls. I got a real warm, reverent feeling—like I do in church when the sacrament is being passed, or like sometimes when I say my prayers.
The feeling started taking up so much room in me that it began pushing the hard feelings I had toward my sister right out. It started pushing tears out too. Other people were close by, and I didn’t want them to see me crying, so I left.
Just as I was turning the corner of the temple, I ran into Charity. We both just stood there and stared at each other. Then she began to cry. She hugged me and said she was sorry. I said I was sorry too.
It was late in the day when Charity, Mama, and I left Salt Lake City for home. I looked back at the temple. It stood as tall as a fine memory against the gold sky.
Mama didn’t have to fill up the silence with talk on the way home, because Charity and I didn’t leave her any room. We talked about everything, especially the temple. What we had seen. And felt. Especially what we had felt. Mama just listened, nodded, and smiled. A lot. And said again when we passed by Brother McKillop’s field how much his scarecrow looked like him. And she’s right—he does. But I’m not going to tell Brother McKillop!

Young people desiring to serve missions often face many challenges. This was the case for six missionaries who were not able to attain visas and travel to one of the numerous missionary training centers found in the Americas.
Four of them, Thierry Birocher, Rosylove Charles, Jennyfer Augustin, and Landy Dorce had been living in Santo Domingo and were called to serve in the Dominican Republic. The other two, Rosebelle Fanfan and Marie Jacques were living in Port-au-prince, Haiti and had received their calls to Boston, Massachusetts but were reassigned to the Dominican Republic due to visa complications.
With six missionaries not able to travel to an MTC and prepare properly for their missions, the Caribbean Area Presidency was led to resolve this problem by creating a temporary, mini-missionary training center located in the Caribbean Area offices. The three sister missionaries living in the Dominican Republic moved out of their homes and into the temple patron housing, located next to the Santo Domingo Temple.
Elder Birocher moved in with the office elders of the Santo Domingo East Mission, and Sisters Fanfan and Jacques left their homes in Haiti and participated in the mini-MTC from the Haiti, Port-au-Prince mission offices.
Although housed in various Church offices in Santo Domingo and Port-au-Prince, the six missionaries received their training virtually from the Mexico City Missionary Training Center through two amazing instructors, Gregory Jeaboin and Josue Derival.
On weekends, each missionary was assigned to a companionship of full-time missionaries to live and work with. This experience gave them real-life missionary opportunities and grew their enthusiasm for the work that they would soon be doing.

The conference also featured Brad Wilcox, a member of the Sunday School general board, who spoke about how young men and young women can form proper and appropriate bonds. He emphasized that the dating experience should be fun and should leave lasting, happy memories.
Sophia B., a Laurel who attended, said, “Sometimes we think we’re missing out, but hearing Brother Wilcox’s message helped me realize it’s really not worth the emotional pain of turning from our standards.”

“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.”

Gillian Geddis, 16, of the Bangor Ward, Belfast Northern Ireland Stake, is an excellent Irish dancer. But after seven years of medals and awards, she gave up dancing because Mutual falls on the same night as dance practice. She would rather attend Mutual and seminary.
In addition to her dancing, Gillian plays the trombone and the piano. She has taken modeling courses and has worked part-time for some Belfast fashion stores. “If I don’t become a full-time model,” she adds, “then I’ll study to be an architect as my best subjects at school are art and design.”

Ariana walked slowly down the sidewalks which at that time of the morning were beginning to fill with people rushing from one place to the next. Many were going to work, while others were taking their children to school. The intersections became congested with traffic and some drivers became impatient in their rush to get to their destinations on time.
Ariana had just walked Sandra, her daughter, to school. There was a school bus, but she preferred to take the child to school herself every day. She enjoyed the morning walk, as well as the evening walk when she went to pick her up, and it also gave her the chance to spend precious minutes with her little Sandra.
They always talked as they walked. The child had so many things to say, so many little secrets to share, so many laughs to laugh. This tiny little person opened a whole new world to Ariana that was fascinating to explore and discover.
This morning, however, Ariana already felt tired and even a little sad. Her husband was out of town for a few days and she missed the comfort and support she received as a wife and mother, and in her Church callings. And also there was another child on the way.
Suddenly Ariana felt overwhelmed by the countless things that she had to attend to, and too tired to walk all the way back home. Her brisk stroll was part of her physical exercise program, but this morning something inside of her was rebelling. The distance to her home seemed just too far to walk. She decided to wait for the bus at the next stop.
While she waited, she reflected sadly that her decision hadn’t alleviated her feeling of discouragement. Nevertheless, something inside of her made her stay. She thought of her husband, who at that time would be driving his car far from home on unfamiliar roads. His work demanded extensive travel and she always feared that something would happen to him.
She also thought of Sister Lago, who was sick with hepatitis, and who could barely get out of bed. Ariana was her visiting teacher and she wondered how she could further help Sister Lago without neglecting her own responsibilities.
Her thoughts turned to little Sandra, who had been sick with a cold for three days, and she wondered if she should take her to the doctor.
It also occurred to her that she should write to her mother, as it had been a long time since she had done so. Now that Ariana and her brothers and sisters were grown and living away from home, their parents must feel quite lonely.
As these thoughts passed through her mind, and as she reflected on all the responsibilities that awaited her that day and in the days to come, she again felt overwhelmed and wished her husband were home so she could turn to him.
Standing on the crowded bus, she remembered something else: she had forgotten that she needed to buy some tomatoes for the salad she was going to make. If she had walked, she would have bought them on the way. The bus would pass in front of several supermarkets, but it wouldn’t stop.
She sighed, feeling even more melancholy, and on doing so felt the impulse to look to her left. Close to her, also standing, was another woman whose eyes met hers. A little embarrassed, Ariana decided to smile, to which the unknown woman responded fleetingly and then looked in the other direction.
Ariana’s thoughts returned to the tomatoes. “I’ll get off one stop before mine, and I’ll buy them at Alfredo’s store,” she decided. “Then I’ll walk home. It’s not very far.”
A seat became vacant and Ariana hurried to take it. But as she was sitting down, she accidentally collided with the woman who had looked at her a few moments earlier.
“Excuse me,” they both said at the same time.
“Sit down,” offered Ariana.
“No, please, you take it,” the stranger declined.
Ariana thanked her and dropped into the vacant seat, truly grateful. The bus continued on and for a few moments Ariana looked at the woman. She was plainly dressed and her eyes looked tired and sad. They were light brown and had large circles under them. Then the stranger turned around abruptly, and Ariana smiled again, this time a little flustered at having been caught watching her. Turning to look out the window at the morning traffic, she wondered why she felt there was still something else that she should do that day. The feeling had persisted and it had nothing to do with the tomatoes.
A few minutes later, the seat next to her was vacated and she quickly advised the woman. “Ma’am, there’s a vacant seat here,” she said smiling. The woman mumbled a “Thank you” and sat down beside her. Each time Ariana glanced at the woman, she’d discover that this stranger was also looking at her. She decided to start a conversation.
“We’re having a delightful autumn aren’t we?” The woman didn’t seem too eager to talk, but Ariana felt a warmth toward her. In an effort to encourage her, Ariana told her about her poor memory and how she had forgotten that she should have walked home because she needed to buy some tomatoes.
“If you’d like,” the woman responded, “I could sell you some of my tomatoes. I grow them in my own yard and right now I’ve got too many.”
“I would like that very much,” exclaimed Ariana enthusiastically. “Homegrown things are always better anyway, aren’t they?”
When the stranger told her that she lived three stops past Ariana’s, Ariana hesitated for a moment. She would have to go past her house and then return home loaded down with the tomatoes. That would be a waste of time, and she couldn’t allow herself to waste time when she had so many things to do. Nevertheless, she didn’t want to offend this woman, whom she was beginning to like, and so she agreed to go with her.
By the time they got off the bus, Ariana had found out that the woman’s name was Teresa. Together they walked along a row of small houses with yards until they came to a humble, but very clean and well-cared-for house.
“How marvelous!” exclaimed Ariana. “I’ve always wanted a home with a yard. We live in an apartment, and sometimes we feel caged in.”
Teresa smiled, but said nothing, as she led Ariana around to the back of the house, where she had her small garden. The two women began to pick tomatoes, putting them in a little basket which Teresa had let Ariana use. While picking, Teresa began to open up and talk more. She told Ariana that she had recently been widowed, and that her only child had to quit school and go to work in a factory so that they could make ends meet.
With the little basket full and her back hurting a little from the exertion, Teresa asked:
“Would you like to come in for a nice hot drink before you go?”
Ariana thought despairingly, “Time! I can’t; I can’t waste any more time!” But something urged her to say, “Yes, I’d love to.”
A few minutes later, they were seated across from each other at the kitchen table with cups of steaming hot chocolate. Little by little, Teresa began to tell Ariana about herself.
“It was funny how we happened to keep looking at each other on the bus,” she said, laughing. “Nothing like it has ever happened to me before. I’ve been so lonely, so lonely. …”
Suddenly her eyes clouded and Ariana thought she saw pain and sadness in them. Teresa started to talk of the financial struggle that she and her husband had had since they were married, and how he had often been unemployed, and of the many hardships they had gone through so that their daughter could get an education, only to see her quit half way through and go to work in a trade where she was practically a slave.
Then Teresa became even more serious and, almost as if talking to herself, asked why it sometimes felt as if God were looking in the other direction. It felt as if no one in the whole world, including God, loved her. As she spoke the lines around her mouth hardened and her eyes took on a bitter expression.
Ariana searched desperately for something to say. Surely there was something in the gospel for this sweet and anguished sister. But she could think of nothing. Any words of comfort seemed vain and empty against the burden of reality that this woman had experienced.
“I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this,” mumbled Teresa, looking down.
Ariana responded, not knowing who put the words in her mouth: “Because the Lord has sent me.”
Teresa broke into tears. At first Ariana thought that she should say something to comfort her, but she soon saw that her new friend was crying out of gratitude.
They looked at each other in silence. Ariana felt very peaceful now. “Neither take ye thought beforehand what ye shall say;” the Lord said, “but treasure up in your minds continually the words of life, and it shall be given you in the very hour that portion that shall be meted unto every man.” (D&C 84:85.) That is how it had happened. The spirit had inspired her to say the exact words that Teresa needed to hear.
“I want to know more about you,” said Teresa. “I want us to be friends.”
Ariana took her by the hand. “Can you see that the Lord never looks away?” she said gently.
“Do you belong to any kind of church?” Teresa asked curiously. Ariana began to tell her and Teresa listened with great interest. When Ariana invited her to attend their next family home evening, Teresa assured her that she would be there with her daughter.
“We have been searching for the light for so long,” she added, while they both stood up.
They hugged each other for a few moments and then Ariana picked up her purse, her coat and her tomatoes. Once in the street, she felt relieved and strengthened. “Truly, only in the service of our fellow men do we find happiness,” she thought. “That is the secret.”
It was late and lunch would be delayed that day. She would prepare a good salad and would take it to Sister Lago and they would eat it together. She would make an appointment with the pediatrician and have him look at Sandra as soon as possible to set her mind at ease. That night she would call her husband at the hotel and try to be the one to give encouragement. She would tell him, “We are thinking of you here at home and we love you.” Later, after putting Sandra to bed and before going to bed herself, she would write a letter to her mother and send her the recipe she asked for so long ago.
A spirit of joy flooded her heart, and while she waited at the curb for the light to turn green, she realized that the feeling of still having something else to do had left her. She had listened to the whisperings of the spirit, and had put the kingdom of God first, and everything else had been added unto her.

I have worried about the barrier of Isaiah. In fact, I have pondered this thought: “Why did Nephi put the barrier there?”

There is a scripture that I used for years in the seminary and institute of religion program in writing curriculum and in designing courses. The verse says:

“And I did read many things unto them which were written in the books of Moses; but that I might more fully persuade them to believe in the Lord their Redeemer I did read unto them that which was written by the prophet Isaiah; for I did liken all scriptures unto us, that it might be for our profit and learning” (1 Ne. 19:23).

I have thought perhaps what Nephi is trying to tell us is that he recognized the barrier of Isaiah. He knew that the book of Isaiah is full of imagery. Of all the scriptures, few have as many images; therefore, Isaiah can be very difficult. I believe what Nephi meant by “liken all scriptures unto us” was that they could be directly applied.

Many are more skilled than I am at putting scriptures in their historic context. There are wonderful techniques of understanding metaphor, simile, and allegory in the scriptures, and I hope you will learn as much about that as you can. But I hope you will learn one more thing. As you read Isaiah in the Book of Mormon, try to believe that Nephi knew Isaiah and he knew imagery. Nephi said to liken Isaiah directly unto you. So I tried it. I read Isaiah’s words again, assuming Nephi picked the parts of Isaiah that I, without worrying about the imagery, could take directly to my heart as if the Lord were speaking to me.

Now I will share with you my own experiment. It is not one you would teach, because for each person the Lord will speak directly to the heart with a different message. This is personal; it lets you look into my heart.

I began to read in 2 Nephi 12 [2 Ne. 12] and thought: “The Lord is speaking to me. What is it He wants to tell me directly?” Then I came to a verse in the Isaiah passages that jumped out as if it were already underlined: “And it shall come to pass that the lofty looks of man shall be humbled, and the haughtiness of men shall be bowed down, and the Lord alone shall be exalted in that day” (2 Ne. 12:11).

This is describing a day when the Savior will come, a day we all look for and want our students to prepare for. This scripture says that in that day, all of us who thought we were special and wonderful will seem smaller, and the Lord will be exalted. We will see better who He is, how much we love Him, and how humble we should be.

I kept reading in the Book of Mormon. I went past Isaiah, and I came to Ether 3:2. I saw something I had never seen before because I believed that Isaiah was talking to me directly, not in imagery.

The brother of Jared was dealing with the problem of getting light into a boat. As you will recall, when he sought the Lord’s help, the Lord asked what the brother of Jared was going to do about it. He had done the best he could. It was going to take something beyond his own ability. And so the brother of Jared said, “O Lord, thou hast said that we must be encompassed about by the floods. Now behold, O Lord, and do not be angry …”

As I was reading this, I could see it in color. His experience almost seemed to be happening as I read about it.

“And do not be angry with thy servant because of his weakness before thee; for we know that thou art holy and dwellest in the heavens, and that we are unworthy before thee …” Suddenly the aforementioned words of Isaiah came back to me.

Then I continued reading: “Because of the fall our natures have become evil continually; nevertheless, O Lord, thou hast given us a commandment that we must call upon thee, that from thee we may receive according to our desires” (Ether 3:2).

I was not thinking so much about light in a ship; I was thinking about the great change and how much I want it in my life and how much you want it in yours. I understood why Isaiah told me it would be helpful to foresee the day when the Lord would be exalted and to know how much I depend upon Him. We need Him, and the faith we have in Him makes us see Him as great and exalted and ourselves as small and dependent. As great as the brother of Jared was, he saw himself as we need to see ourselves if we are to have the Atonement work in our lives.

The next morning, Daniel Brewton escaped in the officer’s sea chest and returned to his home in Philadelphia to recover. James was finally released from the Jersey almost three months later. Although he was weak, he made his way on foot back to Philadelphia. He went to work for the sailmaker, Robert Bridges, who had employed James’s father for many years. Two years later, when he was only twenty-two, James was supervising twenty black and twenty white employees. He was known for his fairness and generosity to all. Later, Bridges sold his sail loft to James Forten, and he became one of the most successful and respected businessmen in Philadelphia.
Forten fought for equal job opportunities and equal citizenship for blacks in the United States. Even though he amassed a large fortune during his lifetime, at the time of his death, only a fraction of it remained. Most of it had been used for buying the freedom of many slaves and for the struggle for equal rights. He wrote eloquent pamphlets and made moving speeches against unfair laws and practices.
When James Forten died in 1842, he had earned his place in history for helping not just his country but all mankind.

As my two youngest children were growing, I discovered books that were entertaining and engaging but also used symbolism in their stories. As we read together in the evenings, I loved helping my children understand the symbolism the author was using to teach deeper principles, even gospel principles.
I knew this was sinking in one day when my younger son was in his early teens. He had started a new book and just wanted to enjoy the story, but his mind kept trying to find the deeper meaning in everything he was reading. He was frustrated, but I was smiling inside.