Gospel Story Finder

About eleven years ago our twins, Max and Mia, were two years old and we were living in an apartment while I was in graduate school. To my wife’s horror we discovered that there was a mouse in our apartment. We bought a mousetrap, put some peanut butter on it, and placed it next to a baseboard on the kitchen floor where we had seen the mouse. Two-year-olds and mousetraps don’t coexist very well, so we took Max and Mia into the kitchen, pointed out the mousetrap, and explained to them how dangerous it was. We told them to stay away from it, to keep their fingers out, and that it would hurt them. We even used our scary voices: “No. Don’t touch. Danger.” A couple of days later, while most of us were sitting on the couch in the other room, we heard a snap and then a scream. We hurried into the kitchen and found little Mia with her fingers in the trap and peanut butter on her lips.

Brothers and sisters, there are many sources of falsehood in the world. Please don’t put your fingers in those traps. Don’t turn to them in your quest for a testimony. There have been, and always will be, intelligent and articulate people in the world who will try to convince you that the Church is not true, that God does not exist, and that anyone who believes that there is a God is foolish and naïve. Don’t go to those sources. Don’t turn to people on the Internet who are seeking to destroy your testimony. Like with our twins, I want to point at those traps and tell you how dangerous they are. I want to tell you to stay away from them, to keep your fingers out, and that they will hurt you. I want to use my scary voice: “No. Don’t touch. Danger.”

Last summer I lay on a beautiful beach in Maui, Hawaii, listlessly making sand castles as I enjoyed the warm sun on my back. I scooped up a wet handful of sand and let it run through my fingers, piling higher and higher until it resembled a castle from a fairy tale. Every time I’d get it built up pretty high, a wave would come along and wash it away and I’d have to start all over again. I didn’t mind, though, because I really hadn’t put any effort into it, nor did I have any kind of goals in mind for its completion. I was just enjoying the feel of the sun and the water and the wet sand between my fingers.

Down the beach a little way, I saw a family with two small boys building a sand castle. They were really sincere and earnest in their endeavor. They had chosen a spot far enough away from the lapping waves to protect their project from destruction. That meant they had to make several trips back to the water with their buckets to get the wet sand and haul it to where they were working. The whole family worked on it. They scooped and hauled, patted and smoothed, planned and designed until they had constructed something they were all proud of. If a big wave had come up and washed it all away, they would have been very disappointed and unhappy. The thought occurred to me how very much those two sand castles were like our lives.

Don’t live your life absentmindedly. If you want to love a person, a family, a church, the Lord, or even your own life—invest in it. If you allow yourself to live only for the moment, seeking only the warmth of the sun and the coolness of the water, with no thought to the future or to your influence on others, the first wave that comes will wash you away and your eternal life will go with it. Your parents’ investment and the Lord’s investment in you will have been in vain. Now is the time to set your life’s goals. Now is the time to firmly set your standards and then hold to them throughout your life. Now is the time to begin investing in that big deal I told you about. Have you guessed what it is? Of course you have. It is nothing less than eternal life. None of us can make it all by ourselves, but if each one of us invests what we have—those gifts we’ve been given—and make them grow, we can pool our capital and, with the help of the Lord, we can each make it. It’s all up to you.

A few years ago following general conference, our four-year-old grandson Andrew asked his mother, “Mommy, is Jesus counting on me?” His mother answered, “Oh, yes, Andrew, Jesus is counting on you. He wants you to obey Mom and Dad, to do what is right, and especially to be kind to your little brother, Benny.” This four-year-old thought about that for a few moments and said, “Mommy, tell Him not to count on me!”
Fortunately, by the time Andrew receives the Aaronic Priesthood, he will have come to know that Jesus is counting on him.

“Sarah! Sarah, wake up!” five-year-old Christiana said to her little sister. “It’s time to leave.”
Three-year-old Sarah struggled to open her eyes.
“But it’s still dark outside,” she complained sleepily.
“I know, but Mama says we have to get an early start. The ship to America leaves soon.”
The Larsen family had joined the Church in Denmark. Now they would be making the long journey to join the Saints in the Salt Lake Valley.
Christiana helped Sarah get dressed. Then the little girls tearfully took one last look around their comfortable bedroom. They knew it would be a long time before they would sleep in a real bed again.
“Don’t forget your parasol, Sarah,” Christiana said as she picked up her own lacy silk parasol. “Mama said she would pack them with the bedding.”
Mama and Papa had said they couldn’t take anything besides necessities on the trip to America. After the bedding, clothing, and tools were packed, there wouldn’t be much room for anything else. But Christiana and Sarah had begged to take just one favorite thing to their new home. After all, they were leaving behind their dolls, books, and toys. Each girl chose her pretty parasol.
As the sun rose, Christiana and her family boarded the ship that would sail to America. They were excited to go to Zion, even though they had to leave friends, family, and their home.
The ocean voyage was long and tiresome. During the hot afternoons on the ship, the two girls used their pretty parasols to keep the sun off their heads. If the wind blew in the right direction, the ship sailed steadily on. But if it changed course, the ship was forced back, often as far as it had already come.
When the Larsens landed in America, they bought a wagon and oxen and began the long journey to the Salt Lake Valley. The ride in the wagon was bumpy and hot, so Christiana and Sarah often walked instead.
Like many other pioneer families, Christiana’s family experienced hardships and tragedy along the way. Christiana’s newborn brother died during their journey and was buried on the plains.
After the Larsen family reached the Salt Lake Valley in 1857, Christiana loved to go to church with other children her age. Christiana and Sarah happily carried their parasols to church every Sunday to keep the hot desert sun off their faces.
As the days and weeks went by, the family’s money and food began to run out. One night Christiana heard her parents discussing the problem. Her father said he knew of a family who had been blessed with a good harvest of grain. The Larsens could trade something they had for some flour. But what did they have to trade?
Christiana spoke up. “You can trade Sarah’s and my parasols, Papa.”
“But you love your parasols, Christiana. I couldn’t do that!”
“It’s all right, Papa,” Christiana said. “We need the food more than we need the parasols.”
The next day Christiana’s father traded the beautiful lacy parasols for some flour. The flour provided food for the whole family.
That night, as Christiana got ready for bed, she looked sadly at the corner where her lovely parasol had stood. But as she remembered the wonderful bread she had eaten for supper, her sadness turned to gratitude. As she said her prayers that night, she thanked Heavenly Father for her lovely parasol, which helped to feed her family.

Illustrated by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
It was very nice of you to invite me over for Thanksgiving dinner.
It’s our pleasure. You’re a great neighbor and one of our favorite people.
You folks have been wonderful to me since my Bill died. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.
Well, our lives would be a lot poorer without you too.
And you’re my “next-door grandma.”
“How come you’re crying, Next-door Grandma?”
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s just that it’s my first Thanksgiving without Bill, and you’re all being so sweet.
Don’t you worry about it for a second. We consider you part of our family, and if you can’t cry with your own family, where can you?
I don’t want to spoil your lovely dinner. It just hits me sometimes that I’ll never see him again.
You will see him again, Next-door Grandma! Next-door Grandpa is with Heavenly Father—I know he is!
Oh, Mandy, I wish I knew that the way you do. But it makes me feel peaceful somehow to hear you say it. So you just go right on telling me, OK?
OK.

I play baritone sax in my high school’s marching band. One day we got on buses to go to our last competition of the season, and everyone was excited and ready to compete. We put everything we had into our final show, and it was one of our best performances. We were soon done and were waiting quietly in line with other bands to receive our awards when one of my friends behind me started to make conversation. Before long we were having a great time—talking, laughing, and joking around—while we waited to take the field again for the awards ceremony. I looked around and saw that other bands started doing the same.
One of my friends told a joke, but the punch line had a cuss word in it. I asked him to cut it out, and when everyone asked why, another one of my friends stepped in and said it was because I was Mormon and didn’t like to hear that type of language. I was relieved to see that my good friend knew about my standards and was willing to stand up for them. But I was still a little embarrassed that I was the one to ruin the fun everyone was having telling jokes, so I turned around to go join another group of friends.
Right as I turned, I heard someone to the right of me yell, “Hey! I’m Mormon too!” I glanced over to see a member of another band smiling at me. We started to talk and were soon explaining to groups of friends in both bands what our standards are and why we have them. As more and more people joined to ask questions and hear our answers, I was starting to feel overwhelmed by the questions being thrown at us—not because they were hard questions but because there were so many!
I felt a tap on my shoulder. Thinking it was another question, I continued answering the current question. I felt the tap again, so I turned and saw yet another young man from a different band smiling at me. “Are you guys talking about Mormonism? Dude! I’m Mormon too!” I couldn’t believe it! We all soon gathered up the Mormons in each of our bands to share our testimonies and experiences with everyone in the crowd. It was so fun to be surrounded by people I knew shared my same standards and beliefs and to teach others about the gospel.

When David Thomas Kelly, 17, was accepted for the Aboriginal Teachers Aide course, his family moved to Perth, Australia, so he could attend school. There his family met the missionaries and was converted to the Church.
David became involved in early morning seminary and played the organ for priesthood meetings. Now he has accepted a call as a labor missionary to work full-time on the renovation of the chapel/community center in Dianella, Western Australia. He is one of the first aborigines to be called to missionary service in Australia. In a couple of years, David hopes to serve a full-time teaching mission.

“At first, I never knew how to share the gospel with anyone or how to introduce the missionaries to my friends,” Eduarda explains. Eduarda is from Brazil and, while she isn’t surrounded by many members of the Church, she knows that “the Lord always prepares a way for His children to know the truth.”

Eduarda shared a Church video with a friend, who loved what he saw. When her friend grew more interested in the Church, Eduarda invited him to meet with the missionaries and used the missionary referral feature on the Church’s website. Eduarda added a comment saying that she wanted to participate in her friend’s gospel learning progress. The missionaries happily agreed. Eduarda even participated in the baptism.

Eduarda says she felt God’s love for His children in that moment. She also explains, “We all have someone who sees the Light of Christ in us. We just need to invite them to see what that light is!”

My bishop has helped me by encouraging me and giving me opportunities to strengthen my talents.
Knowing that I played the piano, he asked me one day if I wanted to learn how to play the organ. I had always thought it would be fun to learn, but my bishop was the one who really encouraged me to start. He helped me get in contact with the ward organist so she could help me get started, and it’s been going really well! Every time my bishop sees me practicing, he compliments me and asks about the next time I’ll be playing in sacrament meeting.
I know my bishop sees my potential, and I’m grateful for his constant encouragement. He has helped me learn and grow in ways I would not have been able to on my own.
Aubrey B., California, USA

Brian Furuya was another who used this introduction to study a little more about the Church. He admits that he started out his study of the gospel with an idea that he would prove it wrong. But that didn’t work out. Instead he found a witness of the Spirit that spoke to his soul. “I didn’t know I was racking up a debt. God told me that much. There is a debt; there is a tab, and someday there would be an accounting. Then I would find my pockets empty. After joining the Church, what made my life easier was knowing that I had a loan [through the atonement of Jesus Christ].”

After Brian joined the Church, he said, “Don’t expect me to go to seminary. I value sleep way too much.” But, as he now admits with a shrug of his shoulders, “The next day I found myself in seminary, and every day since, I’ve found myself in seminary. There has to be something good happening, or I wouldn’t be doing it.”

In 1878 President John Taylor called Saints to settle in the southern part of the state of Colorado in the United States. Early in the 1900s, Pa moved our family to that desolate land.
Our new farm was littered with rocks. Before we could till the ground, we had to clear the rocks away. Ma and I hauled the small rocks away in a wheelbarrow, but there was only one way to remove the boulders—blow them up with dynamite.
When all the small rocks were gone and it was time to start on the big ones, Pa dug under each one as far as he could and placed the dynamite underneath. He carefully set the dynamite in just the right places so the blast would tear the boulders completely apart.
Finally everything was ready for Pa to light the fuse. Mama made sure we children were out of danger.
Boom!
The first boulder exploded into hundreds of fragments and a cloud of dust. When the dust settled, the boulder had disappeared. All that was left was a hole in the ground and many smaller rocks. Now it was my job to pick up the pieces of rock and fill the hole with dirt.
We repeated the process; Pa lit the dynamite and I cleared away the shattered rock. After the third explosion, I was growing tired of picking up rocks and wanted to do the “real” work—lighting the dynamite. I took a few steps toward Pa.
“Willard, stay back!” my mother called. I scowled. At nine, I was the oldest child and believed I was old enough to help.
As I started back to the house, I was filled with a sense of danger. A whispering in my heart warned me that something was wrong.
I didn’t understand. I wasn’t in any danger. I was far away from the blasting. Certain that I had imagined the warning, I concentrated on what Pa was doing. Maybe he would see that I was nearly grown and ready to work alongside him.
The feeling of danger grew.
I recalled the promise my father had made when he confirmed me a member of the Church: “I bless you with the power of discernment. Listen to the Spirit. It will guide you and protect you from harm.”
I tried to ignore the voice, but it wouldn’t be still. I could no longer pretend I didn’t hear the insistent whisper.
I bless you with the power of discernment.
The words were as clear now as they had been when Pa pronounced the blessing more than a year earlier. If I wasn’t in danger, maybe the voice was telling me that someone else was. Ma was hanging clothes on the line, my little sister pulling at her skirt. Then I realized I couldn’t see three-year-old Hyrum.
“Hyrum!” I shouted. “Hyrum!” Shading my eyes from the sun, I squinted into the distance. Then I saw him—heading toward the field, his chubby legs going as fast as he could make them.
I ran after him, praying and shouting all at the same time. “Pa!” I screamed, waving my arms to attract his attention.
His back was turned to me, and Pa couldn’t see or hear my warning—and he couldn’t see Hyrum toddling toward disaster.
I reached Hyrum just as the boulder exploded. Throwing my body over his, I shielded him the best I could. Sharp rock fragments rained down on me, hitting my head, back, and legs.
Hyrum began to squirm. “Heavy,” he said. “Get up.”
I rolled off. My body screamed with pain, but I didn’t care. Gently, I ran my hands over my little brother.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
He wiggled away from me and stood. His chin wobbled and his eyes filled with tears, but he wasn’t hurt. “Scared,” he said.
“I was scared too,” I said as I hugged him.
By then Pa had reached us. Tears tracked through the dirt and grime on his face. His big arms circled us, squeezing tight. “How did you know your brother was in danger?” he asked me.
I hesitated, not sure how to explain. “A voice told me something was wrong,” I said. “I didn’t pay attention at first, but it kept poking at me until I had to listen.” Then I confessed the part that stung my conscience. “If I had listened the first time, Hyrum wouldn’t have wandered away. He would never have been in danger.”
Pa laid his big hand on my shoulder. “But you did listen. That’s the important thing.” Pa took a deep breath. “That was a brave thing you did, Willard.”
“I prayed, Pa. I was praying so hard the words nearly choked me,” I told him.
“So was I. So was I.”
Ma and my little sister came running. Laughing and crying at the same time, Ma hugged me and Hyrum. Soon all of us were hugging and crying.
A sweet feeling of peace settled around my heart as I knelt by my bed that night. My prayers took longer than usual as I thanked Heavenly Father for the whisperings of the Spirit in my heart.

The Salvation Army also runs a preschool to provide support to low income families in the area. The Precious Jewel Day Care Centre, located in Oistins, Christ Church had a dire need of appliances which has now been assuaged by the Latter-day Saints Charities’ donation of a stove, washing machine, food processor and several standing fans. In addition, playground equipment and sheets for the cots used by the preschool will be delivered in the near future. Principal Kelly Hall was overjoyed to receive these items and said, “It’s wonderful to have a stove with an oven that works!” Major Brown of the Salvation Army described the donation as the answer to her prayers.

One of my favorite parts of all scripture is the 121st Section of the Doctrine and Covenants. It is a wonderful narrative in which Joseph Smith begins in the depths of despair and rises to celestial heights. This section of the Doctrine and Covenants was originally a letter from Joseph Smith to his wife, Emma, from Liberty Jail in Missouri. The letter in its entirety includes the 121st, 122nd, and 123rd sections. To better understand these great revelations, we should put them in their proper context. Joseph and a few of his followers were prisoners in the county jail at Liberty, MO, from December 1838 until April 1839. In other words, they were in prison during the winter. There was no heat and the food was barely edible. In fact, on one occasion, they had been served human flesh. They were in a basement dungeon with a dirt floor and a ceiling so low they could not fully stand up. The Saints had been driven from their homes, property stolen, and livestock seized. The men were being hunted and women feared for their lives and all that they held precious. In the midst of this upheaval, Governor Lilburn W. Boggs, the Governor and Chief Executive of the State of Missouri, issued an extermination order, which in effect declared open season on the Saints in Missouri. So begins the 121st section. Joseph says in verse one, “Oh God, where art thou, and where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place?” Remember, this is the same Joseph Smith that we believe had heavenly visitations from God the Father, Jesus Christ, Moroni, John the Baptist, Peter, James and John, and others. Is it as interesting to you as it is to me that even Joseph Smith, of whom Brigham Young stated, Jesus Christ excepted, was the greatest man to ever live on the earth, would have enormous challenges in his life to the point that he would ask, “Where is God?” It gives me hope that even Joseph Smith had some very bad days and very large obstacles. Shortly after his interrogatory statement in verses one and two he expresses his frustration to the Lord and in verse 5 his passions come to a boil when Joseph says, “Let Thine anger be kindled against our enemies; and, in the fury of thine heart, with thy sword avenge us of our wrongs.” It is followed in verse six, “Remember the suffering Saints, Oh, our God; and thy servants will rejoice in thy name forever.” In verse seven the Lord responds to Joseph’s outpouring by saying, “My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment.” In other words the Lord says to Joseph, in today's vernacular, “Joseph, Chill. Everything will be ok. I am in charge. This is my work and all is going according to my plan. Relax.” Or in my music of the sixties, the Beatles’ song “Let It Be.” Often we need to hear those same words when we face obstacles that seem overwhelming. The Lord then teaches Joseph a wonderful principle. As I said earlier, in verse six Joseph stated, “Remember the suffering Saints, Oh, our God; and thy servants will rejoice in thy name forever.” In other words, if you will remove these obstacles we will rejoice in thy name forever. The Lord corrects him in verse eight when He says, “And then if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes.” The message is straight forward and succinct. Whereas Joseph had asked God to remove these obstacles and says the Saints will worship God forever, the Lord responds by saying if you endure it well, THEN you shall triumph over all your foes. The take-away for us then is that we should not expect the Lord to remove our challenges by promising Him that we will always be faithful if He does. That sounds very much like a foxhole prayer to me. During a time of war soldiers in foxholes will pray, “If you save me, God, from my enemy I will be good always.” Rather the principle is to endure well and THEN you will be blessed. That is a marvelous life lesson for each of us.

The following year in seminary we studied the New Testament. One morning after I woke up, I began to read about the Savior in Gethsemane. Tears flowed from my eyes as I realized that the drops of blood He shed were for me. How I wished I had never sinned! The words of Isaiah that I had studied the previous year came into my mind: “He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him” (Isaiah 53:5). As I read about the Crucifixion and the Resurrection, my mom came into my room. I shared with her my feelings, my testimony, and my desire for my father to know what I had learned in seminary.
My testimony continued to grow the next year as we read the Doctrine and Covenants. I obtained a testimony that Joseph Smith was a prophet. I also decided to follow his example and ask God if the Church is true. Although I already had conviction in my heart, one afternoon I found myself alone and sincerely prayed. As I did, I realized that the testimony I was asking for had been developing as I studied the scriptures and attended seminary.
The Lord opened my mind and my heart that year, and I understood the Doctrine and Covenants as I never had before. I also learned of the great value of souls (see D&C 18:10–16) and began to share my growing testimony with those who did not know about the gospel, including my father.
I knew that studying the Book of Mormon during my final year of seminary would also fortify my testimony. As I truly studied, I felt Heavenly Father’s love for me. The stories inspired me to the point that all I wanted to do was read the Book of Mormon. I began to take the Book of Mormon to school and would read it during my free time. I also began to discuss what I was reading with my father.
One day after a long conversation with my father about the gospel, I challenged him to read all of the Book of Mormon. I testified that, like me, he could receive a testimony.
I am happy to say that my father read the Book of Mormon. When he did, he knew the Church is true and was eventually baptized! My family is now preparing to be sealed in the temple. I know that attending seminary and reading the scriptures helped me develop my own testimony, and I know that they bless families.

Renewed commitment is evident everywhere. In Humacao, branch president Angel Rodríquez-Negrón says, “We want to make the Humacao Branch as close to heaven as possible. This desire to succeed is in the hearts and minds of the people. We need to follow the handbook. It’s all there.”
Members of this small but enthusiastic branch planned an open house featuring nine booths, each showing a different facet of the gospel. Only one visitor came, but members were not discouraged.
“We grew so much by reviewing the basic doctrine and we had so much fun that it really drew us together,” says Maritza Reyes. “We kept our good attitude, and we used our booths later at our branch picnic, where many people saw them.”

The story is told of two outdoor enthusiasts who hired a bush plane to fly them to a remote lake for their annual fishing trip. Following a successful outing, the pilot returned to retrieve them. However, he quickly informed the fishermen that his small plane would not support them, their equipment, and the added weight of the fish they had caught. A second flight would be required.
Now, the sportsmen were not interested in paying for a second round-trip. So after a promise to pack tightly and a small bonus payment, the pilot reluctantly agreed to attempt the flight.
The fishermen grinned knowingly as the pilot forced the aircraft into the air. However, seconds later the plane stalled and crashed into a large, flat swampy area at the end of the lake.
The plane had stalled as it flew because of a well-known phenomenon called “ground effect.” Ground effect is created when air is compressed between the aircraft’s wings and the earth’s surface—when they are in close proximity. In this case, as the bush plane inched its way upward out of ground effect, it was required to fly on its own power, which it simply could not do.
Fortunately there were no serious injuries, and after regaining their senses, one of the fishermen asked the other, “What happened?” The second replied, “We crashed on takeoff—about a hundred yards (91 m) from where we ended up last year!”

When I was presiding over the New England Mission, I attended a zone conference; and as we entered the room where the young elders were waiting, I saw, sitting in the back row, a tall and elderly man.
“I was baptized a few days ago,” he said to me. “I’m 74 years old, and I found the gospel only now in my life.”
In a pleading voice he asked if he might attend the meeting. “I just want to be here to learn,” he said. “I’ll sit on the back row. I won’t interrupt.”
Then, almost in tears, he poured out his regret. “Why did I not find it until now? My life is over. My children are all raised and gone, and it is just too late for me to learn the gospel.”
What a joy it was to explain to him one of the great miracles that occurs over and over again is the transformation of those who join the Church. (Or I might say of those who rejoin the Church.) They are in the world and they are of the world, and then the missionaries find them. Though they are in the world thereafter, they are not of the world. Very quickly in their thinking and in their feelings and in their actions, it is as though they had been members of the Church all of their lives.

Winter was coming, and David Dickson had no idea how to keep his family warm.

David, his wife, and two daughters had just moved to the rural city of Fredonia, Arizona, USA, a high-desert landscape surrounded by majestic red cliffs, sagebrush, and evergreens.

The home the Dicksons had rented relied on a wood-burning stove as its primary heat source. David quickly learned that gathering firewood was a necessary skill because winters in Fredonia are full of snow and ice.

“I didn’t have any firewood or a chainsaw or even the knowledge of how to use one!” David says. “I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

Some ward members asked David if his family had enough wood to get through the winter. “It didn’t take them long to realize that I didn’t,” David says. “The elders quorum soon offered to help me gather wood. Overwhelmed with gratitude, I accepted their offer.”

David soon found out that this wood-gathering trip was typical of many well-planned, well-organized, and well-attended ward activities. One Saturday morning, David, the elders quorum, and other ward members headed into the mountains in a caravan of trucks and trailers.

“In a single afternoon, thanks to their tools and know-how, ward members provided my family with a woodpile that lasted us the better part of two winters,” David says. “Even more important, I was taught everything I needed to know about gathering wood on my own. By the time I left Fredonia, I knew how to handle a chainsaw, and I helped out on more ward wood-gathering activities than I can count.”

The first Christmas after my baptism, I felt that I would like to do something nice for someone in need. Since I had made most of my gifts, I thought I might be able to share some of the money I had saved. I hoped I had enough to buy someone a nice Christmas dinner.
Three days before Christmas I counted my money. I had $20. I asked my mom to ask the bishop what would be the best way to donate the money. He said there were families right in our area that needed help. The next day my dad and I walked to the bishop’s house. I had a special feeling inside as I handed him the money. I knew it was the Holy Ghost telling me that I was doing what Jesus wanted me to do.
On Christmas Eve my family enjoyed a delicious Christmas dinner. I had a big smile on my face, and my mom asked me what I was thinking about. I told her I was thinking about the family who got my donation. I was hoping that they were having a merry Christmas. The happy feeling I got from giving to a family I didn’t even know was better than any present I received. I will keep trying to follow the Savior.

On a rainy morning in 1953, 79-year-old President David O. McKay visited Thurso, Scotland, to see the home where his forebears had embraced the restored gospel more than 100 years earlier. President McKay’s son Llewelyn, who accompanied him on this visit, recalled: “[As we approached the home], the sun broke through the clouds and smiled at us as though he were reflecting the joy and happiness in father’s heart. As we all gathered in front of the home, tears came to father’s eyes as he looked through the door. ‘If it had not been for two missionaries knocking on this door about 1850, I shouldn’t be here today!’” he declared.1
Even though the home had fallen into disrepair and was by that time used only to store potatoes, President McKay lingered for some time in the doorway, speaking fondly of what had happened there. The gratitude and joy President McKay expressed that day were characteristic of his life and ministry. As a General Authority for almost 64 years, including 19 years as the ninth President of the Church, he served with the energy of one who cared deeply for people and for the gospel and found joy in bringing the two together.