Gospel Story Finder

“Recently, I spoke with a Laurel from the United States. I quote from her email:
“‘This past year some of my friends on Facebook began posting their position on marriage. Many favored same-sex marriage, and several LDS youth indicated they “liked” the postings. I made no comment.
“‘I decided to declare my belief in traditional marriage in a thoughtful way.
“‘With my profile picture, I added the caption “I believe in marriage between a man and a woman.” Almost instantly I started receiving messages. “You are selfish.” “You are judgmental.” One compared me to a slave owner. And I received this post from a great friend who is a strong member of the Church: “You need to catch up with the times. Things are changing and so should you.”
“‘I did not fight back,’ she said, ‘but I did not take my statement down.’
“She concludes: ‘Sometimes, as President Monson said, “You have to stand alone.” Hopefully as youth, we will stand together in being true to God and to the teachings of His living prophets.’”

One hot summer day our family decided that the best way to enjoy the afternoon would be to go to the mountains. Long on our list of things to do together was a trip to a nearby cave. After we had gotten our hiking gear together, a lunch was packed.
We set out on our journey with anticipation and soon found ourselves in the refreshing coolness of the mountains. At the cave we were greeted by a park ranger, who became our guide. He told us that originally there were three caves, discovered separately, but that now the caves were joined together by man-made passageways. We noticed that there were many levels of interesting rock formations, some of which remained unexplored. Pointing to a slight opening at the side of the trail, the ranger commented that there were two unpenetrated caverns below the path on which we stood. He said, “We hope to explore both of these some day, but as yet we haven’t found a satisfactory way to get in and out of those lower caves.”
Ducking our heads to avoid contact with sharp-edged rocks, we walked along a narrow, slippery path with the unknown leading off in every direction. In order to keep our balance, it was often necessary for us to grip an iron pipe attached to the cave wall alongside the trail.
I had fallen to the end of the group to take some pictures with my camera, when suddenly the electric lights in the cave went out. Whether this was part of a demonstration to a group ahead of us or an unexpected power failure, I don’t know. Far ahead of me our guide raised his voice and it echoed back along the narrow passage. “Be calm, everyone; I’m sure the lights will come on momentarily. Everybody please stay on the trail and hold onto the railing.” His flashlight made only a tiny spark of yellow in the distance.
I had a strong mental image of the many jagged holes and side passages breaking off and down from the place where we stood. A person could get lost in one of these and never be seen again, I worried. To relax, I leaned against the slanted wall of rock. Feeling along the wall with my fingers, I found the iron railing. With the park ranger ahead and by holding onto the railing, we should be able to get out of here, I decided, even if the power isn’t restored.
An excited murmur of voices rose from the group ahead of me, but it soon subsided. We all seemed to sense that as long as we stayed on the trail and followed the advice of the guide, who had been over the path before, there would be no danger. There was no fear because we could hear his voice and feel the railing firmly fixed to the rocky wall of the cave.
After a few minutes the lights came on and we were able to continue our tour and view the wondrous beauty of the cave. But what would have happened if someone had abandoned the trail or let go of the railing? What if anyone had tried to get out by himself by feeling his way along the cave floor in the dark? What chance would any of us have had of getting out without the railing or without the ranger?
There have been many other exciting and memorable family outings, and each one has taught lessons of love, understanding, and cooperation. But on that long-ago day when I held tightly to a damp iron railing in a dark cave, I learned a lesson in faith that I have never forgotten.

The landscape was dry, barren, and ugly. Beauty, admittedly, is in the eye of the beholder. That holds true for scenery as well as works of art. Yet the expanse of desert in front of me did so little to inspire my imagination that I felt sure plenty of other people might share my sentiment. The only thing growing out there was sage brush and weeds, and even those were spread thin.
I’d spent six hours in a car to reach this?
With my backpacking pack loaded with three days of food, water, and supplies, I trudged across the hot sand and hoped things would get better. Soon the dry sand deepened, which made every step feel like two or three. Things went on like that for several miles: hot, dry, dusty, and nothing at all like I’d hoped this adventure would be.
And then Coyote Gulch, one of the great slot canyons of the western United States, swallowed me whole.
It’s hard to describe the drastic change in scenery that engulfs you as you drop into this desert canyon. Hot, dry sand gives way to cool, packed earth. Sage brush is replaced with an oasis of towering trees, ferns, and other vibrant plants.
Barren flatland becomes a deep, shadowed canyon with towering walls on either side. A cool and refreshing stream courses through the bottom, whereas you can’t see water anywhere from above.
I was blown away at every step. I took pictures by the hundred. Yet for those first few dusty miles, literally none of this staggering beauty was visible, even if you looked for it.

The last story took place later that fall while a family was taking a pleasant, 3 1/2-mile hike to a beautiful lake in the Cascades. As they returned down the trail later that day, their young daughter started falling behind. They weren’t really too concerned as it was a good trail, it was still light, and they had been on similar hikes before. The parents continued down the trail, arriving at the road just a few minutes ahead of their daughter, so they thought. After waiting for more than an hour for her, they became concerned and started back up the trail in search. This started a search that would last three days and cost thousands of dollars and many man-hours.
The third illustration even more effectively points out the value of always carrying a whistle and being trained in its use. The little girl had wandered off the trail while picking flowers and had gotten lost in the process. After wandering around for many hours, she lay down beside a large tree where she remained in shock and exhaustion for two days while searchers walked all around the area looking for her. When she was finally found on the third day, she was only 100 yards from the trail!

Samantha turned her back to the cheerful view outside her window. She tried to tune out the happy sounds coming from downstairs, but it didn’t work. A tear escaped from her eye, and she hastily wiped it away—she did not want to be caught crying. They have been so nice! she thought.
Other families had not been. They hadn’t really been mean or anything, and her physical needs had always been met—but she’d never felt like she had a real home where she belonged. And after a few weeks or months, she would move on to a new house and a new family—which was fine because she didn’t really miss the previous one much.
But the McMillans were different. Samantha could tell they really cared for her. That’s why thinking about leaving some day made her so sad. It’s better not to become too close, she thought. Another tear trailed its way down her cheek. Why am I upset? I should be happy. This is a nice family, I feel at home here, even though I’ve been here only four days.
Suddenly footsteps galloped up the stairs. That has to be Amy, she thought, smiling.
The door flew open, and six-year-old Amy bounded in, her pigtails bouncing and a huge smile on her face. “Samantha! Samantha! Mom has our dessert downstairs! You’d better hurry, or Kevin will eat it all up!” The whipped cream smeared across her cheek made it obvious that Amy had eaten hers already. She stopped abruptly and looked closely at Samantha in the darkening room. “Are you sad?”
Samantha jumped up. “Oh, I’m just thinking. What did your mom make for dessert?” she replied, trying to change the subject.
“Pumpkin pie, of course. We always have pie on Saturday night. You can even put cream on it if you want!”
“I bet you had cream on yours!”
“How’d you know?”
“A good guess,” Samantha said as she wiped the cream from Amy’s cheek.
“Well, come on!” Amy grabbed at Samantha’s hand. “You need to hurry if you want any.”
As Amy bounded down the stairs, Samantha followed, unsure of herself and of where she fit in with this family.
The McMillans were sitting at the table, eating their pie. A place was set for her, and a piece of pie had been cut and put at her place. She sat down silently and looked around the table. Everyone smiled a greeting except Kevin, who was eyeing her piece of pie. She smiled and looked down at her hands shyly.
“We already blessed the pie, Samantha,” Mrs. McMillan said. “Won’t you have some with us?”
Samantha was relieved. She felt awkward when they said these prayers. She remembered her first meal with them. All of a sudden everyone had bowed their heads and were quiet, and she’d had no idea what they were doing. She had glanced around the table and tried to copy what she saw. No one had noticed because they all had their eyes closed. Suddenly remembering Mrs. McMillan’s question, she quickly said, “Kevin can have mine, I’m still full from dinner.”
“Yes!” Kevin shouted.
“Kevin! You’ve had two pieces already!” Mrs. McMillan said in disbelief. “And you ate more than anyone else at dinner!”
“I know, Mom, but I’m a growing boy!” Kevin replied, reaching for Samantha’s pie and giving her a great big smile of thanks.
Samantha giggled and looked at Amy, who giggled too.
“Well, it’s time for bed now,” Mr. McMillan said a few minutes later as he stood up and began to gather the dishes on the table. “I’ll help your mother with these while you kids run up and get your pajamas on. We’ll come up and tuck you in shortly.”
As she and Samantha climbed the stairs, Amy grumbled about having to go to bed so soon. Kevin ate his last bite of pie and fell in step behind them.
Samantha followed Amy into their room, and they began to change into their pajamas. Samantha was eager to wear the new pink ones Mrs. McMillan had bought for her. But when Amy knelt at the side of her bed to say her prayers, Samantha felt the awkward feeling seep into her chest again. Mr. and Mrs. McMillan had offered to help her pray, but they didn’t insist when she said maybe later, after she got more used to the family routines. Amy soon stood up and hopped under the covers. She glanced over at Samantha and asked, “Are you going to say your prayers tonight?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Samantha said, getting into bed. She turned out the lamp on the nightstand. Mr. and Mrs. McMillan came in and wished them good night and sweet dreams, then closed the door quietly. The moon shining through the trees cast shadows on the wall, and Samantha watched the shadows sway back and forth as the night breeze blew.
“Amy, why do you p-pray every night?” Samantha asked, feeling awkward even asking.
“Because I need to talk to Heavenly Father.”
“Why do you need to talk to Heavenly Father?”
“I need to thank Him for my mom, dad, and brother. And my friend Jesse is sick, so I need to ask Heavenly Father to bless her and help her get better. Oh, and I need to thank Him for the nice day we had—and for sending you to live with us.”
“For me?”
Amy nodded.
“And you’re praying to a person?”
“Sure, but not a person like us—God is our Heavenly Father and He’s perfect. Mom says He loves us and wants us to be happy. He answers our prayers, though sometimes not the way we want to have them answered.”
“Do you really believe that there is a Person who hears you when you pray?”
“Oh, yes, I’m sure. I always feel good inside when I pray.”
“Do you think He will listen and answer prayers for anyone—even for me?” Samantha had many feelings inside that she wanted to share with someone who loved her, especially someone like the Heavenly Father Amy had described.
“Of course!” Amy chirped reassuringly.
“How do you say a prayer? I mean, do you say it like your family does at dinner?”
“Yep! Do you want to pray now? I’ll help you!”
Without waiting for an answer, Amy scrambled over and knelt beside Samantha’s bed. Samantha knelt next to her and closed her eyes. Amy thanked Heavenly Father for the nice day and asked Him to bless the family, including the goldfish. As Samantha echoed Amy’s words, she began to feel good inside. They ended their prayer in the name of Jesus Christ and climbed into their beds.
“We can pray together again in the morning, and you can do the talking,” Amy said and then was soon asleep.
Samantha couldn’t sleep. All she could think about was how she felt and what Amy had said. In her heart she began to say another prayer, thanking Heavenly Father for the McMillans.

As it turns out, when I returned from my mission, I got the chance to play football again. Although it was unexpected, I played my final year and achieved more than I believe I could have done before my mission. I was given incredible opportunities that probably would not have come about had I chosen to further delay or even forego my mission.

My favorite part of the Friend is the hidden-picture activity. When I can’t find one of the hidden shapes by myself, I ask my brother or dad for clues. I like it when they help me.
Amelia S., age 6, Qatar

Our son, Spencer, has tried to learn to fast since his baptism two years ago. We have not made him feel he must fast at his young age, and he may not fast as long as we, his parents, do on some Sundays. However, in fast and testimony meeting some time ago, he whispered to me, “I think I’ll bear my testimony.” I smiled and nodded my approval, His sincere testimony touched my heart. Obviously, he was feeling something work within him because he was fasting.

The Reverend Amos C. Brown tells a story about Howard Washington Thurman. Howard lived next to a woman who mistreated his family because they were Black—even throwing manure from her chicken coop into the Thurmans’ yard.
When the woman fell ill, Howard’s mother took her some soup and roses. With gratitude, the woman asked where the flowers had come from. Mrs. Thurman explained, “While you were throwing the chicken manure, God was preparing the soil.”
“That’s what we’ve got to do in the midst of evil,” Reverend Brown said. “Take the manure but have the faith in God to use it to grow a garden of roses.”8

A boy entered a pharmacist’s shop and told the owner that he was Bob Brown, son of Mrs. Helen Brown. He asked if there was any possibility for him to work at the pharmacy so that he could pay for medicine that the store owner had supplied the family but that hadn’t been paid for. Mr. Jones didn’t really need any additional help, but he was so impressed by the unusual conscientiousness and honesty of this seventeen-year-old boy that he made arrangements for Bob to work at the store on Saturdays.
Bob’s work that first day greatly impressed the store owner, and at the end of it, he handed the young man an envelope containing twelve dollars. The boy took two one-dollar bills from the envelope and asked Mr. Jones to give him change for one of them. Bob put the other dollar bill and twenty cents in his pocket. Then he put the eighty cents change in the envelope with the ten-dollar bill and handed it back to Mr. Jones to apply against the family account. Mr. Jones urged Bob to keep a larger portion of the money. “You’ll need some money for school,” he said.
“No, sir,” said the seventeen-year-old. “Maybe later I could keep a little more, but today I would like to pay the ten dollars and eighty cents on our bill.”
At that moment some of Bob’s friends came by and asked him to attend a movie with them. He said that he couldn’t, that he had to go home, and that he didn’t have any money. One of the boys playfully jostled him and heard the twenty cents rattle in Bob’s pocket. The teasing began again because he obviously did have some money.
Bob finally said quietly, “Look, guys, I do have a little money, but it isn’t mine—it’s my tithing.”
Early in his life Bob had learned to be honest with his fellowmen as well as the Lord. Can anyone doubt that he will be an equally fine man, a good husband and dad, and a concerned leader who will help many others?

“Remember that activity day is after school today,” Mom said at breakfast.
Clarissa sighed. “I know.”
“What’s wrong?” Mom asked. “I thought you loved activity day.”
“It’s all right,” Clarissa said.
“Remember how excited you were to go when you turned eight?” Mom asked. “And you like Sister Cobian.”
“She’s great,” Clarissa said. “It’s just hard because Ashley and I are the only two who go. I like Ashley, and she is always nice to me. But she is almost 12, and I just turned 9. I don’t really know what to say to her. It’s not that fun.”
Mom put her arm around Clarissa. “I’m sorry it’s hard sometimes. We have a small Primary without a lot of girls, but I’m sure you’ll have a good time this afternoon.”
After school Clarissa walked the one block to the church where they held activity day. Sister Cobian and Ashley greeted her happily. After the opening prayer Sister Cobian said, “I asked the Primary president about girls who are on the Primary rolls but don’t come to activity day or Primary. I have this list of the girls and their phone numbers. I thought that if we called them before each activity day, they might come join us.”
“That’s a great idea!” Clarissa exclaimed. “It would be fun to have more girls here.”
Sister Cobian smiled. “I’m glad you like the idea, because I want to ask you to call the girls before our next activity day.”
“Me?” Clarissa gulped. She wasn’t sure about that. Sister Cobian handed her the list. She knew all the girls from school, and some of them came to church occasionally. But it might be scary to call and invite them.
“Will you do it?” Sister Cobian asked.
Clarissa looked at the list again. Some of these girls were her age. Activity day would be a lot more fun if they came too. “Sure,” she said.
Before the next activity day, Clarissa called the girls on the list. She left messages or talked to all of them. It wasn’t hard at all.
The next day at school, Olivia, one of the girls Clarissa had called, asked her if they could walk to activity day together. Clarissa was thrilled! After school Clarissa and Olivia walked to the church together. When they entered the Primary room, Sister Cobian gave them a big smile.
Before the next activity day, Clarissa called the girls again. Olivia was excited to come again. Chelsea said she would come too. The next afternoon Clarissa felt so happy as she walked to the meetinghouse with Olivia and Chelsea.
That night Clarissa told her mother how fun activity day was with more girls. “I just wish Madison could come,” Clarissa said. “She’s my best friend.”
“Well, why can’t she?” Mom asked.
“Mom, she’s not on the list. She’s not a member of the Church.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Mom said. “You’ll be doing missionary work when you invite her. You’re already being a missionary by encouraging Olivia and Chelsea.”
Clarissa thought about that. When she called the activity-day girls again, she called Madison too. Madison asked her mom if she could go, and her mom said yes. Clarissa couldn’t believe how easy it was. She wondered why she hadn’t invited Madison months ago!
At activity day that week, Sister Cobian made an exciting announcement. At their next activity day, they were going to have a special guest teach them how to decorate cakes. Clarissa and Madison smiled at each other. That sounded fun! As they left that afternoon, Madison said, “Thanks for inviting me. I want to come next time to decorate cakes.”
The very next day, Clarissa started talking to all of her friends at school about the cake-decorating activity. Madison helped. Many of their friends said they wanted to come.
“There might be 15 girls at our next activity day,” Clarissa told her mother.
“Fifteen!” Mom exclaimed. “Where did you find that many girls?”
“I’ve been inviting all the girls in my class,” Clarissa said.
“That’s wonderful!” Mom said. “But you better let Sister Cobian know so she will be prepared for that many.”
Clarissa called Sister Cobian to tell her how many girls to expect. On activity day the Primary room was crowded with girls chattering and laughing as they decorated cakes. Sister Cobian winked at Clarissa and gave her a big smile.
Afterward Clarissa helped Sister Cobian clean up. Her friend Emily came to say good-bye. “Thanks,” she said shyly to Sister Cobian. “Is it OK if I invite my older sister and my two cousins next time?”
Sister Cobian smiled. “That would be great, Emily,” she said.
Clarissa could hardly wait for the next activity day!

As I pondered my family’s current lack of support, I remembered that miracle of peace I’d felt before I was baptized. I recalled that all things are possible to Heavenly Father (see Matthew 19:26) and that as I turn to Him in faith through fasting and prayer, He can make seemingly impossible things possible through faith in Christ.
As we learn in Helaman 3:35, “Nevertheless they did fast and pray oft, and did wax stronger and stronger in their humility, and firmer and firmer in the faith of Christ, unto the filling their souls with joy and consolation.”
I wanted to deepen my trust in Heavenly Father, fill my heart with joy, and do what I could to soften the hearts of those who didn’t support me. So I consistently fasted and prayed for relief from the loneliness I was facing.
Nothing changed immediately. I was told that I was causing challenges in our family because of my Church membership. I felt so alone. But I trusted that Heavenly Father was listening to my prayers and that my fasting would bring blessings. Eventually, I saw a miracle—my parents’ hearts gradually softened toward the gospel.
I also felt my faith in Heavenly Father and my Savior become empowered. My stronger faith helped me know how to respond to others when they were unkind and how to deepen my relationship with loved ones and with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
After a lot of fasting and prayer, I received the answer to serve a mission. Miraculously, my parents ended up getting baptized before I left to serve, and I was also able to be sealed to them in the Manila Philippines Temple a few months before I finished my service.

Moroni 10:4–5 is my favorite scripture because I know that if I have any question or doubt, I can ask God, and I know He’ll respond. Earlier this year, when I wanted to know for myself if the Church is true, I prayed and asked. I can’t explain the feeling of peace I had, but I began to cry because I was so happy.
Lady D., 14, Lima, Peru

In addition to serving as studentbody president of Saddleback High School in Santa Ana, California, Matthew R. Crum organized an October conference trip for 32 youths and 6 adult ward members. Matt, who is the priests quorum group leader for the Santa Ana Third Ward, feels his Church responsibilities far exceed his school ones. Says Matt, “Even though there are a lot more kids at school, I don’t have the individual responsibility for each one.”
The conference excursion group drove 12 hours on a chartered bus and spent their time in Utah attending sessions in the Tabernacle, touring the Salt Lake City area, and visiting BYU.

Except that it isn’t about San Jose. It’s about San Francisco. There are a lot of fun things within easy reach of the young people in San Jose—everything from beach parties, to ski trips, to camping, to sailing, to sports and cultural events, to San Francisco, which is why this story happened.
San Francisco is about an hour from San Jose, just far enough to make it adventurous and close enough to make it convenient, and that’s how the priests and Laurels of the San Jose Seventh Ward came to make the trip one bright morning.
Their first stop was the Golden Gate Park, a giant green finger pointing out of the Pacific toward San Francisco Bay. They strolled in the shade of the gigantic trees and spent an hour in the lush beauty of the Oriental Tea Garden. They could easily have spent a day seeing the Park’s other attractions, but there was a city of 42 hills and 42,000 adventures waiting for them.
They visited the Golden Gate Bridge, standing on a windswept observation point and watching the vast red span stretch away from them. The intense blue of the bay was dotted with sails, and wave-swept Alcatraz Island looked foreboding in the middle of them.
Next they visited the quaint brick buildings of Ghiradelli Square and ate their lunches on the steps of a fountain there. Then, refreshed by the rest, they ambled along to Fisherman’s Wharf, passing on the street artists who sold their handiworks and street musicians who played in the open air, glancing hopefully now and then into guitar cases and hats where people would occasionally throw money.
One man sat in the back of a pickup truck parked by the curb and played an upright piano. Another innovative fellow climbed inside a painted box and billed himself as a human juke box. People put money in through a slot, and he played a wandering trumpet for them.
They walked along Fisherman’s Wharf, talking to the fish vendors and looking at the stacks of fresh crabs, lobsters, shrimp, and other seafood. Some of it looked back at them and snapped angry claws.
After spending some time observing the long rows of docked fishing boats, they boarded a cable car and rode up the steep hills to Chinatown. They walked up and down the steep streets lined with exotic buildings with upturned roofs, neon signs in Cantonese and English, and shops filled with the pungent aroma of unfamiliar foods.
By then the sun was getting low, and knowing the way to San Jose very well, they returned home.

Simultaneous with the early development of the Church was a spirit of opposition and persecution. Wherever the tiny “mustard seed” was planted, attempts were made to frustrate its growth. But notwithstanding all the efforts to destroy the work—even the murder of the Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother—the Church prospered and grew. There were those who thought the Church would fail with the deaths of the martyrs Joseph and Hyrum, but they did not perceive, as Daniel foretold, that this latter-day kingdom should “never be destroyed” (Dan. 2:44).

I grew up attending the Ogden First Ward in Ogden, Utah, USA. When I was about nine years old, our bishop (who was my father) started the testimony portion of a fast and testimony meeting by asking everyone in the congregation to bear their testimony. The meeting proceeded just as Dad had asked. Almost everyone in attendance stood and bore their testimonies.
The church building where Elder Hales attended the Ogden First Ward as a child.
Photographs courtesy of the author
This was a notable event for me. Every testimony was simple, to the point, and focused on what each person knew to be true about the Savior and His gospel. As far as I could tell, everyone could feel a distinct outpouring of the Spirit. Undoubtedly, I had felt the Spirit before, but the Spirit was present in a remarkable way that day. I felt a powerful witness of the truthfulness of the gospel. After all these years, I have never forgotten this experience when I felt the unity of the ward and the love of the Savior.
As I remember that unique fast and testimony meeting from my childhood, the feelings I had and the seeds of testimony planted in my heart by the Holy Ghost help me want to be a better person now. When we follow Alma’s counsel by remembering our own spiritual experiences, faithfully adhering to our personal religious practices, and humbly pondering all the Savior has done for us, we strengthen our ability to honor our covenants and draw closer to Him.

Susan’s spring vacation seemed doomed to be boring. The first day, it rained, a drizzling, gray rain. The second day, Mother had a doctor’s appointment and errands to run, so Susan had to tend her younger brother, Larry, who had the chicken pox.
“I want to go outside and play,” Larry complained.
Susan sighed. “I wish you could, too, but Mom said no friends and no playing outdoors until you’re better.”
“When will Mom be home?” Larry asked.
“After lunch.”
Larry plopped onto the couch. “That’s three hours away!”
“Well, right now I’m going to practice the piano. After that, I’m going to finish my scripture project for Primary,” Susan told him.
“But I want you to play a game with me,” Larry said grumpily.
“Why don’t you play with your trains?” Susan suggested, going over to the piano. Suddenly she turned back. “Hey, I have a great idea! I’ll make a game for you and do my scripture project at the same time!”
Larry sat up. “What are you going to do?”
“That’s the best part,” Susan said mysteriously. “It’s going to be a secret. While I get everything ready, you go to your room and listen to the scripture tapes so you’ll get into a scripture-thinking mood.”
Susan’s Primary teacher, Sister Anderson, had asked the class to use the Bible for their Merrie Miss project, so Susan flipped to the Topical Guide in the back and turned page after page. She discovered lots of possibilities for her game.
Next, she found some index cards, wrote down the scripture references that sounded fun for her clues, then hid all but one of the cards around the house.
After that, she hurried to the kitchen and fixed a surprise before going to get her brother. “Everything’s ready,” she announced, leading Larry to the family room. Handing him a card and a Bible, she said, “The clues will lead you to a surprise, but you’ll need the Bible to get you there.”
Larry looked at the first card and saw:
Clue #1
Matthew 6:6 [Matt. 6:6]. He quickly looked up the reference and read:
“‘But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.’”
He looked up. “Does this mean I need to look in the closet?”
“Why don’t you go find out?”
They ran to the hall closet, and Larry opened the door. Taped to the vacuum cleaner was another card:
Clue #2
Genesis 37:3 [Gen. 37:3]. In his Bible, Larry read:
“‘Now Israel loved Joseph … and he made him a coat of many colours.’”
He grinned. “Coats!”
Larry looked up and saw the family’s winter coats hanging in the closet. He dug his hands deep into the pockets. It was in the pocket of his very own coat that he pulled out a third card:
Clue #3
Matthew 9:16 [Matt. 9:16]. “‘No man putteth a piece of new cloth unto an old garment,’” he read from the Bible.
Puzzled, he asked Susan, “You mean cloth like in a fabric store? How can we go there?”
“We can’t, of course, but there’s a place in our house that’s a lot like one,” she hinted.
Larry let out a whoop. “Mom’s sewing corner!” He scurried to Mom’s sewing corner in the family room. Underneath a box of fabric was another card:
Clue #4
John 14:16. After finding the scripture, Larry read:
“‘And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever.’”
Turning to the Bible Dictionary, he saw that Comforter referred to either the Holy Ghost or Jesus Christ. “I don’t get it,” he said. “Where do I look next?”
“I had to stretch the language a bit on that one,” Susan admitted. “What would you think of if Comforter wasn’t capitalized?”
“Oh, I know now—it must be the thick comforter quilt on Mom and Dad’s bed!”
In their parents’ bedroom, Larry pulled back the big comforter and discovered the next card underneath a pillow:
Clue #5
Matthew 10:9 [Matt. 10:9]. “‘Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor brass in your purses.’”
Larry stuck his hands on his hips. “But Mom took her purse with her, and I can’t get into it without her permission, anyway.”
“There’s still mine,” Susan said with a grin, “and you may open it.”
Larry raced to his sister’s room and found her purse right on the dresser. It was empty except for a card that read:
Clue #6
Isaiah 7:15 [Isa. 7:15]. “This one says,
“‘Butter and honey shall he eat, that he may know to refuse the evil, and choose the good.’”
“I know where to look for butter and honey!”
In the kitchen, he opened the pantry door. On a shelf sat a plate covered with thick slices of homemade bread spread with butter and honey. Underneath the plate was a card. It said:
Last Clue
Ecclesiastes 4:9 [Eccl. 4:9]. “Hey,” Larry cried, “This scripture is talking about us! Listen—
“‘Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.’”
“You’re pretty smart,” Susan told him. Then she realized that tending her brother hadn’t been so bad after all. She got two glasses of cold milk from the refrigerator, and they sat down at the table.
Larry took a big bite of his bread. Honey dribbled down his chin, and he licked it off. “Let’s do this game for family home evening next week with Mom and Dad. It was a lot of fun.”
Susan smiled at her brother. “OK, we can work together on the clues.”

When the family received people at home, it was always an opportunity for Elder Ribeiro to escape and play football with friends. But when the two missionaries entered the house, Elder Ribeiro felt joy. He felt that joy every time the missionaries taught. This was a pure testimony that he still keeps in his heart. Now, looking back, he recognizes that this was the way God spoke to an 11-year-old boy. He says that when there are difficult moments in his life, he remembers the joy he felt when they joined the Church, and it still gives him a sense of peace.

Brother Connell was a recent convert to the Church and was called to be the teachers quorum adviser. I was fourteen and a new member of the quorum. I was called as the president, even though I was having a great deal of trouble learning to control my temper.
The young men of the ward went on a cave exploration trip to a cave in Indiana, about two hundred miles from home. This trip was taken in the cool of October. I became very angry over a situation and said I was going to walk home. I started out on my long journey. After I had walked a short distance, all the cars in our party went past me and did not even slow down. My jaw dropped and I thought, “Oh, no, they’re leaving me.” Then I turned around and saw Brother Connell following me. I felt ashamed and embarrassed. I stopped and waited for him to catch up. He told me he would not let me walk home alone and would join me. We walked for about five miles. Brother Connell helped me understand my feelings and straighten them out. By prior arrangement, one of the cars returned and picked us up. This was the beginning of a great friendship between Brother Connell and me. During the time that Brother Connell was my adviser, he helped me to control my temper and use my energy in constructive ways. He had me come and help him put a new roof on his house. He has had me babysit his children. Brother Connell has helped me learn more about the gospel and how to care about other people.