Gospel Story Finder

Some months went by, and the family moved to a different town. The following December, Greg came into the house carrying an envelope. “We got a letter from Sister Fuhriman,” he called. He tore it open and read:
“I will miss your family this Christmas. I don’t believe I ever told you how much I enjoyed Christmas Eve in your home. I must tell you now what I did not tell you then.
“Some years before you moved into the house across the road from me, I had a dream. I could see your house, all lit up and glowing. When I awoke from that dream, I had the most wonderful, happy, peaceful feeling—something I had not experienced very often since my husband’s death.
“Months went by, and I forgot all about my dream. Then came your invitation for Christmas Eve. I had such a wonderful time sharing in your family celebration.
“After the boys walked me back home, I stood on my porch to make sure they returned home safely. Just then I noticed your house all aglow. It was the same picture I had seen in my dream years ago, and I had the very same feeling of peace. I just wanted you to know how I appreciated you.”
As Greg read Sister Fuhriman’s words, he remembered the warmth he had felt that night. He was grateful his family had shared their celebration with Sister Fuhriman, bringing her Christmas comfort and joy.

The following is an excerpt from volume 3 of Saints: The Story of the Church of Jesus Christ in the Latter Days, which will be released in the spring of 2022. The setting for this account is 1918, after President Joseph F. Smith’s son Hyrum M. Smith died unexpectedly from a ruptured appendix. Within months of Hyrum’s passing, his wife, Ida Bowman Smith, passed away following childbirth.
Joseph F. Smith’s family did not immediately tell him about Ida’s passing, afraid the news would crush him. He had grown more frail since Hyrum’s death, and he had rarely appeared in public over the last five months. On the day after Ida’s death, however, family members brought her newborn son to Joseph, and he wept as he blessed the baby and named him Hyrum. The family then told him about Ida.
To everyone’s surprise, Joseph received the news calmly.1 So much suffering and pain had descended on the world lately. The daily newspapers contained horrific reports on the war. Millions of soldiers and civilians had already been killed, and millions more had been maimed and wounded. Earlier that summer, the soldiers from Utah had arrived in Europe and witnessed the unrelenting brutality of the war.
A deadly strain of influenza had also begun taking lives throughout the world, compounding the pain and heartache of the war. The virus was spreading at an alarming rate, and Utah was only days away from shutting down its theaters, churches, and other public places in hopes of stopping the wave of disease and death.2
A deadly strain of influenza was taking millions of lives throughout the world.
Photograph courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
On October 3, 1918, Joseph sat in his room, reflecting on the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the redemption of the world. He opened his New Testament to 1 Peter and read about the Savior preaching to the spirits in the spirit world. “For this cause was the gospel preached also to them that are dead,” he read, “that they might be judged according to men in the flesh, but live according to God in the spirit.”
As he pondered the scriptures, the prophet felt the Spirit descend upon him, opening his eyes of understanding. He saw multitudes of the dead in the spirit world. Righteous women and men who had died before the Savior’s mortal ministry were joyfully waiting for His advent there to declare their liberation from the bands of death.
The Savior appeared to the multitude, and the righteous spirits rejoiced in their redemption. They knelt before Him, acknowledging Him as their Savior and Deliverer from death and the chains of hell. Their countenances shone as light from the presence of the Lord radiated around them. They sang praises to His name.3
As Joseph marveled at the vision, he again reflected on the words of Peter. The host of disobedient spirits was far greater than the host of righteous spirits. How could the Savior, during His brief visit to the spirit world, possibly preach His gospel to all of them?4
Joseph’s eyes were then opened again, and he understood that the Savior did not go in person to the disobedient spirits. Rather, he organized the righteous spirits, appointing messengers and commissioning them to carry the gospel message to the spirits in darkness. In this way, all people who died in transgression or without a knowledge of the truth could learn about faith in God, repentance, vicarious baptism for the remission of sin, the gift of the Holy Ghost, and all other essential principles of the gospel.
Gazing upon the vast congregation of righteous spirits, Joseph saw Adam and his sons Abel and Seth. He beheld Eve standing with her faithful daughters who had worshipped God throughout the ages. Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Moses were also there, along with Isaiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, and other prophets from the Old Testament and Book of Mormon. So too was the prophet Malachi, who prophesied that Elijah would come to plant the promises made to the fathers in the hearts of the children, preparing the way for temple work and the redemption of the dead in the latter days.5
Joseph F. Smith also saw Joseph Smith, Brigham Young, John Taylor, Wilford Woodruff, and others who had laid the foundation of the Restoration. Among them was his martyred father, Hyrum Smith, whose face he had not seen in seventy-four years. They were some of the noble and great spirits who had been chosen before mortality to come forth in the latter days and labor for the salvation of all God’s children.
The prophet then perceived that the faithful elders of this dispensation would continue their labor in the next life by preaching the gospel to the spirits who were in darkness and under the bondage of sin.
“The dead who repent will be redeemed, through obedience to the ordinances of the house of God,” he observed, “and after they have paid the penalty of their transgressions, and are washed clean, shall receive a reward according to their works, for they are heirs of salvation.”6
When the vision closed, Joseph pondered all that he had seen. The next morning, he surprised the Saints by attending the first session of the October general conference despite his poor health. Determined to speak to the congregation, he stood unsteadily at the pulpit, his large frame shaking from the effort. “For more than seventy years I have been a worker in this cause with your fathers and progenitors,” he said, “and my heart is just as firmly set with you today as it ever has been.”7
Lacking the strength to speak of his vision without being overcome by emotion, he merely alluded to it. “I have not lived alone these five months,” he told the congregation. “I have dwelt in the spirit of prayer, of supplication, of faith, and of determination, and I have had my communication with the Spirit of the Lord continuously.”
“It is a happy meeting this morning for me,” he said. “God Almighty bless you.”8
When volume 3 is published, a complete list of works cited and the topic entries will be available at saints.ChurchofJesusChrist.org.

This truth is illustrated in the experience of two young missionaries serving in Europe, in an area where there were few convert baptisms. I suppose it would have been understandable for them to think that what they did wouldn’t make much of a difference.
But these two missionaries had faith, and they were committed. They had the attitude that if no one listened to their message, it would not be because they had not given their best effort.
One day they had the feeling to approach the residents of a well-kept four-story apartment building. They started on the first floor and knocked on each door, presenting their saving message of Jesus Christ and the Restoration of His Church.
No one on the first floor would listen to them.
How easy it would have been to say, “We tried. Let’s stop right here. Let’s go and try another building.”
But these two missionaries had faith and they were willing to work, and so they knocked on every door on the second floor.
Again, no one would listen.
The third floor was the same. And so was the fourth—that is, until they knocked on the last door of the fourth floor.
When that door opened, a young girl smiled at them and asked them to wait while she spoke with her mother.
Her mother was only 36 years old, had recently lost her husband, and was in no mood to talk with Mormon missionaries. So she told her daughter to send them away.
But the daughter pleaded with her. These young men were so nice, she said. And it would take only a few minutes.
So, reluctantly, the mother agreed. The missionaries delivered their message and handed a book to the mother to read—the Book of Mormon.
After they left, the mother decided she would read at least a few pages.
She finished the entire book within a few days.
Not long after, this wonderful single-parent family entered the waters of baptism.
When the small family attended their local branch in Frankfurt, Germany, a young deacon noticed the beauty of one of the daughters and thought to himself, “These missionaries are doing a great job!”
That young deacon’s name was Dieter Uchtdorf. And the charming young woman—the one who had pleaded with her mother to listen to the missionaries—has the beautiful name of Harriet. She is loved by all who meet her as she accompanies me in my travels. She has blessed the lives of many people through her love for the gospel and her sparkling personality. She truly is the sunshine of my life.
How often have I lifted my heart in gratitude for the two missionaries who did not stop at the first floor! How often my heart reaches out in appreciation for their faith and work. How often have I given thanks that they kept going—even to the fourth floor, last door.

Michael Flynn and son Elder Jaswant Flynn (from the Meltham Ward in the Huddersfield Stake) experienced a unique opportunity to appreciate God’s creations and to serve Heavenly Father from opposite ends of the world. At Rothera Antarctica, Michael, an instrument specialist at The University of Manchester, spent three weeks in January making airborne measurements of clouds over the Southern Ocean from a British Antarctic Survey Twin Otter aircraft.
He says Antarctica is completely different from anywhere else in the world, partly because it is so remote. It has no permanent inhabitants and has penguins rather than polar bears, and the huge floating ice shelves that are unique to Antarctica.
Of his experience in Antarctica, he says, “I am in awe of the complete white expanse and wilderness and have an appreciation of the place, a place I would go back to. Experiencing the beauty of nature and its variety in different parts of the world increases my appreciation for what Heavenly Father has created for us and strengthens my testimony in Him.”
Near the North Pole, Elder Flynn, or Vanhin Flynn as he is addressed, serves as a missionary in the Helsinki Finland Mission. He says, “I‘ve been serving in the Finland Helsinki Mission since September 2022 — I‘m so happy to be here! It got VERY cold in the winter where I served in Kemi in Northern Finland, but I guess it gave me a feel for what my dad felt at the same time in Antarctica.
“The language is very difficult, but I‘ve seen the blessing of hard work, perseverance and enduring to the end, so much, as I‘ve tried to learn and speak more. Having also served in the Swedish speaking area of Finland, therefore being assigned to learn Swedish and Finnish, I‘ve really had to develop my faith and understanding of God, as well as striving to be obedient and doing everything I can to be blessed with the gift of tongues.
“I‘ve also grown in my testimony more on my mission so far more than I did my whole life before. I‘ve already seen so many blessings of serving a mission, and even though there are many trials, so many more blessings come as we endure through them. It was interesting being basically on the other side of the world to my dad — but such a blessing that, through technology, even though we were tens of thousands of miles apart, we could still communicate.
“The blessings of being a missionary have been evident to not just me, but many family members and friends also. And they are not limited. If you can serve a mission, do! The Lord will bless you and so many others for it, family, friends, members, nonmembers — on both sides of the veil!”
Helsinki Finland Mission President Ville Kervinen, a native of Finland, provides insight into the climate and culture of Finnish people. He says they are most loyal, with Church statistics reflecting this, which helps to shape missionaries’ attitudes towards service and missionary work generally. The North is a quality of mind. He grew up in Rovaniemi, near the Arctic Circle and he and Sister Leena Kervinen, through inspiration, spent their married life there. He says,“There is a difference in attitude about life even between northern and southern Finland. All the Finns are very independent-minded, but those living in the more extreme climate and isolation of the North are even more so. They hold onto their culture more naturally, being further away from Helsinki and the cosmopolitan influences there. We have the identity of a northern person, and we are grateful for it. After our mission we will return to the North to continue serving there.”
Even though father and son were far apart, they still found a way to appreciate the gospel and to serve others.

“I’m not going to Primary any more if I have to sit by Jimmy,” I told Mom as I got into our car.
“What does Jimmy do that bothers you?”
My sister, Christine, who is two years older than I am, cut in. “He’s a real pain. He’s always pulling someone’s hair or poking them in the side or untying their shoelace. I don’t blame Alan. I wouldn’t want to sit by him, either.”
I looked at her gratefully. It was nice to have an older sister, especially when she agreed with me.
Mom looked at me. “Is that why you don’t want to sit by Jimmy?”
“Yes,” I said. “He always gets me in trouble.”
“How does his being naughty get you in trouble?”
Christina came to my rescue again. “When someone keeps hitting you and pulling your hair, you finally hit him back. Then you’re in trouble too.”
“Is that what happened today, Alan?” Mom asked, looking me right in the eye.
“Well-l-l-l, I can’t just let him hit me for no reason, can I?”
“So you got into a fight in Primary?” Mom asked.
I knew she was disappointed in me. I hung my head and said, “Yes.”
“Did it make you feel better to fight with Jimmy?” she asked me.
“I thought it did then, but now I’m not so sure. You make me feel like I did something bad.”
“Are you sure it’s me that’s making you feel that way?” Mom asked.
“I don’t know. What am I supposed to do when he starts poking and hitting me? I don’t want the other kids to think I’m a wimp. Besides, he hits hard, and it hurts.”
Just then, Dad got in the car. I was thankful that Mom didn’t say anything about my fighting in Primary as Dad started the car and drove home.
Later in the afternoon, though, Dad came to my room. “Alan, Mom tells me that you had some problems in Primary today. I’d like you to tell me what happened.”
I felt hopeful because he didn’t seem angry. When I finished explaining, he said, “That sounds like a pretty difficult situation, all right. Do you think hitting Jimmy back will stop him from hitting you any more?”
“Well, I hope so,” I answered. “At least he knows I can hit just as hard as he can.”
“Yes, I suppose he knows that,” Dad agreed. “Do you think he likes you any better now?”
“Dad, you must be kidding! He hates me now.”
“Do you like him any better than you did before the fight?”
“How can I like him better after he made me get into trouble with everyone?”
“Alan,” Dad began, “one of the reasons we go to church is to learn to be more like Jesus Christ, isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” I answered, “and Jesus would never have hit Jimmy. But, Dad, what would He have done?”
“That’s a good question. Let’s see if we can find an answer.” He opened my Bible to Matthew 18:21–22 [Matt. 18:21–22] and asked me to read it out loud.
“‘Then came Peter to him, and said, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times?
“‘Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven.’”
I felt very discouraged. “There is no way I can stand to have Jimmy hit and poke me a zillion times before I can hit him back.”
Dad smiled. “The idea isn’t to wait until you can hit him back.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Let’s look in Matthew 5:43–44 [Matt. 5:43–44]. What does this say that we should do?”
I began reading out loud: “‘Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy.
“‘But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.’”
“Do you understand what Christ is teaching us here?” Dad asked.
“It sounds too hard for me to do.”
“Well, let’s make sure we understand what He is saying. First, He tells us to love our enemies.”
“Maybe I’m bad,” I said looking up at Dad, “but I don’t love Jimmy, not after what he did today.”
“But that’s just it, Alan!” Dad said. “Don’t you think the Savior knew how hard it would be to love our enemies? That’s why He told us how. He said to bless, do good to, and pray for those who do harm to us. He knew that it is very difficult to hate someone you are praying for and doing nice things for. Those kinds of actions change feelings of hate and anger into love and concern.”
I had a hard time believing that and it must have shown on my face. Dad said that he wanted me to try an experiment. He said that it wouldn’t be easy but that I should pray for Jimmy and do good things for him. He said that while I prayed for Jimmy, I should also pray that my feelings toward him would be softened.
That night as I knelt to say my prayers, I prayed that Jimmy would be happy. I also asked Heavenly Father to help me like Jimmy. I did that all week long. This part wasn’t too hard. It was the doing-good-things part that I was worried about.
I saw Jimmy only on Sundays because he didn’t go to my school. I didn’t feel ready to sit by him in Primary yet, but I didn’t want him to think I hated him, either. As I thought about it, I really didn’t hate him. I almost felt sorry for him. Maybe Heavenly Father was softening my heart.
All week I tried to think of something I could do for Jimmy. I figured he’d throw anything I gave him back at me, or make fun of me if I tried to do something nice. It was Saturday before I decided what I could do for him—something secret!
I asked Mom for three cookies to give him. I put them into a bag and typed a note on our computer: “To Jimmy, from someone who likes you.”
On Sunday, I asked Sister Lamb, my Primary teacher, if she would give the cookies to Jimmy without telling him whom they were from. She smiled at me and said she’d give them to him at the end of class.
During opening exercises and class, Jimmy made it obvious to everyone that he didn’t want to sit by me. He made several remarks that were pretty rude, but I just bit my tongue and waited. Before the closing prayer, Sister Lamb told Jimmy to stay a minute after the prayer.
I walked out of the room, but I didn’t go far. I wanted to hear what Jimmy said when he got the cookies. “Why are you giving me these?” he asked.
“Oh, they aren’t from me,” Sister Lamb said.
“They must be from you—no one else likes me.”
“No,” Sister Lamb said again.
“Well, who are they from?”
“I promised not to tell,” Sister Lamb said. I heard her closing her books, so I hurried away. I must have been smiling, because when I got in the car, Mom said, “Things must have gone much better in Primary today.”
“Yeah,” I said casually, “everything was OK.” Everything was more than OK. I felt happier than I had in a long time.
For three more weeks, I gave something to Sister Lamb to give to Jimmy. He began telling our class that someone must really like him. I could tell that he liked what was happening. It even seemed to me that he wasn’t as mean and rude as he used to be.
Then Dad asked me how I was doing with my experiment. I told him what had been happening, and he smiled. “That’s great, Alan! It sounds like you’re ready to make him your friend now.”
I looked up at Dad in surprise. “I thought that’s what I was doing.”
“You can’t go on giving him treats forever, Alan. At some point, you know, you have to give yourself.”
“Huh?”
“It sounds to me like Jimmy needs a friend. Maybe you could invite him over to play.”
“But, Dad,” I answered, “Jimmy lives a long way from us. He doesn’t even go to my school.”
“Well, why don’t you see if he can come over next Saturday. I’ll pick him up and take him home.”
“I’m not sure he’d come. And what would we do? I don’t even know what he likes.”
The call was easier than I had thought it would be. Jimmy sounded surprised, but he accepted.
Saturday came. I rode with Dad to Jimmy’s house. I was a little bit nervous when I knocked on his door. He opened it and called to his mother that he was leaving.
On the way home, I asked Jimmy what he liked to do. We soon discovered that we both liked soccer and roller-blading. When we got to my house, I discovered that he was a computer whiz. We spent most the afternoon playing games, drawing pictures, and making up stories on the computer.
When it was time to go, we walked through the kitchen to the car. Mom was baking chocolate chip cookies, and she gave us some as we went out the back door. As he bit into one, Jimmy looked at me suspiciously. “Hey, these are just like the cookies my secret friend gave me at church.”
I laughed. “Maybe you’ll have to come here to get treats from your secret friend from now on.”
“It’s a deal! And you can get treats at my house.”

“I’m bored!” sighed Angie. “Why can’t we play a video game?”
Once again Mother patiently explained. “You know that Dad and I talked about it and decided that you were spending too much time playing those things. You need to get outside and use your imagination.”
Angelina had heard all this before, but what was she supposed to do outside? She was reminded of camping last summer. There was no TV, no computer, no video games. It seemed that her parents expected her to play with pinecones or something.
The doorbell rang, and Robin, one of Angie’s third-grade classmates, bounced in. “Angie, they have a new video game at the arcade. I’m dying to try it! Would your mom take us there?”
“I don’t know, Robin. She’s kind of down on video games right now. But maybe if I ask her while you’re here, she’ll say yes.”
The girls found Mom in the backyard. “Mom,” Angie began tentatively, “would you take Robin and me to the video arcade?”
“No, but I’ll take you to the park on Willow Street on my way to the store.”
“No!” yelled Angie. Then she turned in astonishment as she heard Robin yell, “OK!” at the same time. Angie looked at her friend. “You mean you want to go to the park? What would we do? It’s boring!”
“We can be anything we want there,” Robin explained. “Those orange trees have neat rooms underneath their branches. They could be our fort. Or we could be rich ladies in a fancy apartment, or famous veterinarians looking for rare birds to cure. Use your imagination.”
That word again! Angie didn’t think imagination sounded all that great, but the park would be better than being bored at home.
She thought that the park “fort” could have used a TV, but it was kind of fun imagining you were a famous movie star living in a mansion. Now, how did they walk and talk? Angie wasn’t very good at it, so Robin coached her. She was amazed to discover that three hours passed swiftly, and she and Robin laughed all the way home.
The next Saturday, Mother again refused to take them to the video arcade.
“Then let’s go to the park again,” Angie suggested, remembering the fun they’d had the week before.
“We can’t,” Robin told her. “It’s closed for repairs.”
“Oh, fudgits,” Angie whined, flopping down on her bed. “Another boring day.”
“Come on, Angie. Let’s go collect pop cans. Maybe we can make enough money to buy something fun.”
Several hours later the girls returned with their treasures. They hadn’t made enough money to buy the exotic colored birds they’d looked at in the pet store window, but they’d each purchased a goldfish. Now they were hunting for a large glass container to put them in.
“Let’s name them Tweedledum and Tweedledee,” Robin suggested.
“Or Punch and Judy.”
They finally settled on Hansel and Gretel and vowed that their fish would be best friends forever, just as they were.
The following Saturday, Robin went to visit her grandmother. Angie was dreading the day. Mother was still being unreasonable about video-game playing, and the park wouldn’t be any fun alone. Angie shuffled to their new refrigerator. Same old food, she noticed. Then, turning away, she saw something that made her exclaim aloud, “Wow!”
The refrigerator box was still outside by the trash. She could make a playhouse in the backyard, and when Robin returned, they could play lots of games there! They might even decorate it like a real house and put their fish in it. Hey—this imagination stuff isn’t so hard, after all!
Mother gladly helped Angie find a little table, two chairs, and some curtains for the window they cut out. Angie could hardly wait for Robin to come over. They’d have such fun!
Monday was a holiday, and it was bright and sunny. After rushing through breakfast and chores, the girls met to inspect the new playhouse.
“Angie, this is great!” Robin exclaimed, jumping up and down. “I wish I had a doll so we could play house.”
Angie thought for a second. Her dolls were all china and were locked in a glass case. She never played with them. Then she remembered—there was an old doll in the bottom of the toy chest. But she hadn’t played with it in months, and its hair was a mess, and it had no clothes.
“Robin,” Angie began, “I know a poor, starving orphan with no clothes that we can adopt and take care of.” She ran to find the doll.
“What a great idea, Angie!” Robin said. “You’re beginning to have a terrific imagination.”
“Just wait until you hear what this baby will be when she grows up,” Angie went on. “I have it all figured out.”
At that moment Angie’s older brother, Marco, poked his head in the playhouse window. “Hey, Angie, Mom says that she’ll take us to the video arcade. Come on!”
Angie and Robin looked at each other for a moment, then laughed. “No, thanks, Marco.” Angie told him. “We’d rather stay here and sew clothes for the lost princess of Matagambi.”

My Uncle Mons Andersen had said to us that we must go to his folks in Lehi. That same evening a fisherman was going past Lehi and said he could take two of us. So Mother and my brother Mathias went with him. Then someone would come after the rest of us. The train could not take us there for the track was then only laid to the Point of the Mountain. So the rest of us stayed in the tithing yard till the next day. All that day no one came. But the next day, July 20, 1872, a man by the name of Mathias Petersen from Lehi came for us in a brand-new wagon. Happy were we. We came as far as this side of Sandy and stopped overnight. The next day, this being Sunday morning, July 21, 1872, we arrived in Lehi.

Now I must say a little about Sunday, July 21, 1872. As I said before, we camped overnight on the state road this side of Sandy. It was a beautiful morning, and time came for us to have something to eat before starting. There were five of us in all, and we had some baked wheat bread. There was a farmhouse some distance away, so Mathias Petersen, our driver, went over there to see if he could get some milk to go with the bread. He soon came back and a lady with him with a pan full of sweet milk. It was my first night camping out and my first meal of wheat bread and sweet milk. I shall never forget how good it tasted to me. I was overjoyed. Oh, how good I thought that lady was to bring us that good milk! I don’t know if she was a Mormon or not. But at that time I thought all the people in Utah were Mormons so, of course, I thought she was. So it was another step to me to gain a little better feeling for Mormonism.

I decided to compete in a marathon with work colleagues in Western Cape, South Africa. I trained and worked very hard in preparation for the race.
On the day of the race, I woke up, read my scriptures, and prayed. I was nervous, but I also felt that I needed to trust in the Lord. I knew that if I did, He would provide sustenance and support.
We were required to walk or run 40 kilometers (25 miles). We started at 8:00 a.m. The weather was cool and slightly rainy, so at first I enjoyed the walk and was doing well. But when I was about 10 kilometers from the finish line, the race became very hard for me. I had muscle pulls in one leg, and I had some blisters. I wanted to quit. Then I began singing a hymn:
Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, …
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.
(“How Firm a Foundation,” Hymns, no. 85)
Over and over the words of the hymn flooded my mind and lifted my feet, and I finished the race in the strength of the Lord’s hymn.
This experience taught me that the gospel of Jesus Christ is about endurance. It is like walking or running in a race. We get tired sometimes, rest, and walk again. Heavenly Father does not give up on us no matter how many times we fall; to Him what counts is how many times we stand up and walk again. His gospel is about finishing the race.

I had an experience like yours. I wanted so much to be able to tell the bishop, but I thought he would have little respect for me as a member of his ward. I prayed about it for a long time. I was finally comforted enough by the Spirit to be able to tell the bishop about my problem. After I told him what I had done, he let me know that what I had done was wrong but that he still loved me and so does my Heavenly Father. He let me know that there is a way back and that is by repentance. Repentance is such a wonderful process. I beg you to give it a try. The Lord is waiting for you!
Name withheld

My brother gave me his old cell phone. It was red and shiny. A few days later my mom said that my sister who was going to college had just called. She had forgotten to take her cell phone out of her pocket and ran it through the wash. It wasn’t working, and she couldn’t afford a new one. I wrapped up my cell phone and we went to see her. I will never forget her face when she opened it. I know Heavenly Father was happy with me because of the good feeling I had inside.

One day at school, Renisha had to make a tough choice. A friend not of her faith asked a group of girls to follow her into the bathroom. Once inside, the girl pulled out a vape and started using it. She offered it to everyone else. The moment was very awkward, but Renisha knew what she needed to do. “I told her I didn’t want to do that,” she said. “I knew it wasn’t good for us.”
That day, when she got home, Renisha felt even more determined to stay close to Heavenly Father. She decided to make scripture study and daily prayer a bigger part of her life. “If I make God my priority, it will help me stay strong,” she explained. “It’s never easy, but it’s good to have the Savior as a backup.” President Dallin H. Oaks, First Counselor in the First Presidency, taught, “We need to have inspired priorities and apply them in ways that will bring eternal blessings to us” (“Focus and Priorities,” Ensign, May 2001 84).

I went with my cousins to one of my favorite places with activities and games. While we were there I found $5 on the ground. This was enough money to buy 20 game tokens. But instead of exchanging the money for tokens, I turned in the money to lost and found. I knew it was the right thing to do. The employee I gave the money to was glad I was honest and, in return, gave me some free tokens. It felt good to make the right choice.

—Susi Hayden-Smith, 12, of the Pennant Hills Ward, says that from the moment she entered the temple, “I felt really special, like Jesus was watching. One of the main things I was thinking about was that when I go to heaven, the people I was baptized and confirmed for will thank me. That’s a really special feeling.”
Susi had a long talk with her father before she came to the temple. “He told me how grateful he felt when my brother was baptized for my grandpa,” she says. “He told me how blessed we are to grow up as members of the Church.”
—And three cousins, Laura Walker, 12, of the Blacktown Ward; Rachel Alekna, 13, of the Baulkham Hills Ward; and Brooke Mauger, 13, of the Castle Hill Ward, explain how three generations have been brought closer together through the temple, right here and now.
“Our grandfather is a sealer at the temple,” Rachel says. “He comes every Tuesday. Our parents come all the time. Now we’re coming, too.”
“There are six of us who are cousins, all born within 12 months of each other,” Brooke explains. “Two times now, we’ve all come to the temple together. It’s great.”
“You get used to coming to the temple,” Laura says. “You feel reverent, but you also feel comfortable. You start to think about coming here with your husband someday, to be married for eternity.”
And you start to understand that the blessings of the temple are the blessings of forever, that by starting when you’re young, you can have their influence with you constantly.
GEELONG—Anthony George, 17, lives in this seaside town southwest of Melbourne. “I actually got my testimony from attending the temple,” he says. “Before I started going to the temple, I didn’t really have much of a testimony. I just went along with everyone.” Then, a few weeks before his third trip to the temple, Anthony’s Sunday School teacher told the class that everyone needs a testimony. “So I started thinking about that.”
At the Sydney Temple a few weeks later, Anthony was in the font. “I had already been baptized a few times, and they said the baptismal prayer and I was baptized again. I just had this really good feeling like the person was grateful for what I had done for him. I just felt that this was the right thing, and that going to church was the right thing.” Everything just came together “like a jigsaw puzzle the Spirit put together for me.”
Nerissa Bielenberg, 16, also of Geelong, is willing to sacrifice quite a bit for trips to the temple. When she goes, she passes up a couple days’ wages from her job at the local Kmart. In addition, there’s the actual cost of the bus fare and food during the stay. But it’s worth it. “It’s just different from anything else,” Nerissa explains. You have an experience in there and you know you’re doing the right thing, and you want to keep that same spirit with you all the time.”
ADELAIDE—The Clements and McFarlane families live in the beautiful green hills above Adelaide. For them it’s a two-day drive to the temple with an overnight stop. If they lived closer, “I’d go all the time,” says Rachel Clements, 14. “You feel really spiritual when you come out of the temple.”
Daniel Clements, 16, agrees that the temple gives you a boost—especially your testimony. “It makes it stronger because of the feeling that you get when you go there.” Twelve-year-old Jacob admits to being a little nervous when he went to the temple for the first time. But the temple workers made him feel at home.
Over at the McFarlanes’, 14-year-old Matthew also admits to having been nervous his first time at the temple. But once he was there, “I had a warm feeling,” he says. When he got home, he told his younger brother Paul, “It was beautiful; you’ll enjoy it.” So now Paul looks forward to going when he’s 12.
The Semmler family of nearby Christy’s Beach tries to go to the temple together once a year. Catherine Semmler, 16, says that in the temple, “everything’s perfect. Everything’s peaceful, and everyone’s happy and friendly.” That can make going back to school kind of a shock. But, still, the feeling of the temple stays with you.
The Soinninens are another Adelaide family with a strong temple tradition. Erin, 12, is the most recent family member to go do baptisms for the dead: “You just feel special, that you are doing something really good.”
Her sisters echo those feelings. Kate, now 17, first went when she was 12. “I thought it was kind of like a renewal, as if you were being baptized yourself.” Amelia, 15, repeats what so many of the others have said: “I felt the Spirit there.”
Luke tells us that when young Jesus was in the temple, he amazed the people with his understanding. By following the Savior’s example, young Latter-day Saints who go to the temple are gaining wonderful understandings too.
Aussie teens who go to the temple know that in the temple you can learn what the Spirit feels like, that you can learn what real peace is—the peace that comes from God. They know that in the temple there is reassurance that you are on the right course and that the Church is true. Great blessings—you can find them in the temple, even at the age of 12.

I remember as a child looking at my grandmother’s wrinkled cheeks. Lines creased the corners of her eyes, and tiny lines graced her upper lip. I asked her how I could keep from getting wrinkles.
“Don’t smile,” she said. “And don’t cry.”
I followed her advice—for one day. Then I gave up. How could anyone live without smiling or crying? I decided I’d rather have a face that shows the lines of laughter and tears.

A few weeks later I received my mission call. With excitement I read the words “Brazil Porto Alegre North Mission.” I could hardly wait to be among the Brazilian people, sharing the message of the restored gospel. I shared the news of my call with my extended family, ward members, and friends. I also noticed how many people were just as eager to know when I would go through the temple. Many had words of advice to offer me on how I should prepare myself mentally and spiritually before entering the house of the Lord.
During the next few months I made sure to attend temple preparation classes. I read my scriptures and prayed for a continuing reassurance of my decision to receive my endowment. The Spirit comforted me again and again. I also read the pamphlet Preparing to Enter the Holy Temple, written to assist those preparing to attend the temple for the first time. I was so grateful for the statements about the reverence and peace that prevail in the temple. During this time of preparation I gained a much stronger testimony of the sacred nature of the Lord’s house and the work that is performed inside.
I will always remember the sight of the temple the day I arrived to receive my endowment. I was filled with deep respect and reverence. I was humbled by the thought that I would go inside and make sacred covenants with my Father in Heaven.
I had arrived dressed in my Sunday best, knowing that my outward appearance reflected my inward respect for the house of the Lord.
“Welcome to the temple,” I was greeted as I showed my recommend and walked inside. Everything about the temple was beautiful. It felt like a piece of heaven on earth, and the friendly temple workers seemed like angels.
I remained in awe at the Spirit I felt. While I didn’t immediately understand everything that was taking place, I did realize the importance of the covenants I was making. It was clear to me why my bishop had spoken of the temple the way he had. The endowment I was receiving would extend not only far beyond the two years of my mission but even into the eternities. More meaningful to me than any of the advice I had received from various people was a scripture I had read as part of my preparation, “And that all people who shall enter upon the threshold of the Lord’s house may feel thy power, and feel constrained to acknowledge that thou hast sanctified it, and that it is thy house, a place of thy holiness” (D&C 109:13). I knew that the temple was the Lord’s house, sanctified and holy. I went expecting to feel God’s love, and I did.
Throughout my mission I frequently reflected on my first temple experience. I was also thankful for having attended the temple each week at the MTC. The blessings of the temple fortified me and gave me strength through difficult times. I was filled with the desire to serve and bring others to a knowledge of God’s plan. I wanted everyone I taught to have the same opportunity to make covenants with Heavenly Father and receive a greater understanding of His infinite love.
I am grateful for having realized that the temple will be a part of me forever and not something to simply check off before leaving on my mission. Since returning home from my mission, I have made temple attendance a priority in my life. The temple is a place of clarity and renewal for me. It is a place of holiness where I can feel God’s love for me and for all His children.

One day, after we had reached the Coppermine River, we were paddling on the river during a blizzard. It was the end of July and the snow was flying! The current was powerful, but the head-wind was so strong we were struggling for progress. Bob said, “Dad, look at the shore.” I did … We were standing still. And when we stopped paddling, the wind blew us upstream! So we stopped and pulled over to the shore and gathered what wood we could for a fire to warm our hands.

Another time we were stuck on a boulder in a bad set of rapids, and it seemed as though we might stay there forever. But after a prayer and a quick maneuvering of the boat, we broke free.

Once we reached the river, we were determined to regain our lost time. We didn’t mind moving, because when we’d stop we’d start to chill. Even at night we slept cold. The ground was ice, and the wind was cold. We had some small containers of fuel, but just enough to warm our food. And so we paddled and rushed on. Our worst day on the river we traveled 5 kilometers. Our best day we traveled 80 kilometers, and we went over the falls and flooded our canoe at the last set of rapids out of eight we covered that day. The map showed eight sets of rapids, and we decided, because of our haste, to run them without studying them first, a foolish thing to do.

We slowly regained our lost time, and by the end of the trip, arrived in the small Eskimo village at the mouth of the river right on schedule. We had one half of a meal left. Our canoe was so badly damaged we had to abandon it (after notifying Canadian officials). We had sailed over every set of rapids on the river but one (whether we were tired or afraid of the one we carried our equipment around I’m not sure), so we didn’t claim any records. But Bob had been lost and now was found. The day after we returned home, he went to see the bishop and expressed his desire to serve the Lord. He is now serving in the Illinois Chicago Mission.

To any father who is trying to help his son decide to go on a mission, I would say that the most important thing is to know your son. Not everyone needs to go on a trip down the Coppermine River. The same kind of building experiences can take place at home, working in the garage together, playing a game of tennis, maybe just going for a walk where the two of you can be alone. I wouldn’t have gone on the Coppermine River if I hadn’t felt inspired to do so.

And to you young men who know you should be going on a mission, I would remind you that for every person there will be wilderness areas, Gethsemanes, Sacred Groves—places where we learn to rely on the Lord completely and call on him in fervent prayer. Don’t try to tempt the Lord by placing yourself in a dangerous situation, but be prepared to follow the promptings of his Spirit, wherever they may lead you.

While serving as bishop a number of years ago, I became alarmed by the number of young people who came to me, frightened and confused, thinking their parents were not in love and were even heading for divorce because of family disagreements. Because I knew the parents well and knew they were deeply in love, I explained to their children that while this was unpleasant, it was sometimes a part of marriage and did not mean the family was about to disintegrate.

Mother knelt down and brushed the red clay from the tombstone. Sarah read the faded words: “GOBO FANGO, AGED 30 YEARS.” She paused a moment and then asked, “Who is Gobo Fango?”
Mother began pulling the weeds that had grown up around the old stone. She motioned for Sarah to sit down next to her under the shady tree that covered this part of the cemetery.
“Gobo was a valiant Saint,” Mother answered, “a courageous child from South Africa. He was one of the first African pioneers to join the early Saints in the West, and he is a member of our family.”
Sarah looked confused. “But, Mother, we are not from South Africa. We are from California.”
Mother laughed. “We are now, but our ancestors back at the time of the pioneers came from all over the world.”
“What is an ancestor?”
“Good question. An ancestor is a member of our family who lived a long time ago.”
“You mean like Granny?”
“Yes, and her parents before her, and their parents before them. Learning about them is what we call family history,” Mother explained. “Would you like to hear the story about Gobo Fango?”
“Oh, yes!”
Sarah’s mother smiled. “And that is the story of Gobo Fango.”
“Wow!” Sarah exclaimed. “I never knew that he was part of our family!”
“It is important to remember that pioneers came from all areas of the world,” Mother said, “North America, South America, Europe, and Africa.”
Suddenly, the thought of family history and pioneers meant something more to Sarah. It wasn’t something just for adults. It was for her. Even an eleven-year-old girl like herself could learn a lesson of love and acceptance and faith from little Gobo Fango.

Recalling his childhood in the Church of England, Elder Cuthbert said, “I sang in the church choir in three services each Sunday. The choirmistress was a good teacher, and I learned to love the Psalms, which are songs of praise and thanksgiving to God. When I was eleven, the choirmistress went to Zululand, South Africa, as a missionary. Her example helped me become interested in missionary work at an early age.
“After I joined the Lord’s true Church, He called me as a district missionary, then as a stake missionary, and later as a mission president. Now, as a General Authority, I will always be a missionary. A Seventy is a special witness of Jesus Christ to all the world.
“I am sure that you Primary children know many missionaries, some perhaps in your own family. They are examples for you to follow; Jesus wants all of us to be missionaries. One of my favorite scriptures is in Matthew, when Jesus was instructing His apostles just before He ascended into heaven: ‘Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost’ (Matt. 28:19). He is saying the same to us today through His prophet, President Benson. Boys and girls, start preparing for your missions now—by study, by prayer, and by helping others.
“I have seen many examples of faith and courage among young missionaries in the Church. Ian Menzies, a missionary in Scotland, said, ‘I must finish my mission,’ even though he had a tumor on his brain. Through faith and determination and priesthood administration, he accomplished what others said was impossible. Peter Chaya, a missionary in Zimbabwe, Africa, fulfilled his mission on crutches. He had lost the use of both legs through polio when he was a child. Pip Lees served as a stake missionary in England. Her companion pushed her door to door in a wheelchair for two years.
“During December 1987, I had some Church assignments in Bolivia, a beautiful South American country where the Church is growing rapidly but where the people have very little. The Regional Representative, Elder Philip Kradolfer, accompanied me, and he brought a large suitcase full of toys. Just before Christmas each year, his children give up some of their toys to help the children living in the Altiplano, or high plateau region, of Bolivia. It was wonderful to see the children’s faces as they received a doll, a game, a book, or a purse. Jesus taught that it is better to give than to receive, and I am sure that you have felt the same happiness when you have been a secret helper.
“While serving in South America last year,” Elder Cuthbert recalled, “I met many people who had little to eat and hardly a roof over their heads. Many are hearing the gospel and are being baptized. The children are attending Primary and are preparing for missions, just like you.
“In your prayers, would you remember these boys and girls who have a very hard life? As you prayerfully express thanks for the blessings that you enjoy, fill yourself up with gratitude and let it overflow into service. As you help other children, you will not want so much for yourselves.”

“I shared a room with my sister. We liked to be together, but when we were very young we argued about who was taking more than her share of the bed. One day we decided to settle the problem. We took a crayon and drew a line right down the middle of the sheet. Mother didn’t like that solution and told us that we were not to do it again. When we were older, our parents told us that we could each have our own room. Dianne moved her things into another room, but it only lasted one night. We really preferred being together, so the next day she moved back.”