Gospel Story Finder

A. J. Schumann, 17, spent six hours helping his dad and neighbors clear a 30-yard firebreak in an effort to save his and other houses. “It’s amazing to see how people rally together in a crisis,” he says. “Ward members, whose homes were not in danger, came to help us. After we evacuated, somehow two of our friends made their way back and hosed down our burning fences. All eight houses survived, but I’ve learned people matter more than things.”

In August 2002, President Gordon B. Hinckley unexpectedly came to New York City and spoke to us, saying, “Today we want to announce to you that in two years you will have your temple. I hope to be here to see it.” Time went by, and our expectations grew. Finally, it was announced that the open house would begin in early May 2004. I put my name on every volunteer list I could find, and because I had accumulated vacation days at work, I was able to work for 11 uninterrupted days in the temple.
As a tour guide, I felt the Spirit on each tour, and the best reward was hearing visitors’ comments. I remember one stout man, who walked with a cane. After the tour, with eyes shining, he said, “I never thought I would find a place that emanated as much peace as I have felt here today.” The temple open house brought many miracles like this one. It moved many hearts and caused many to reflect and feel the very special spirit that reigns there.

When I studied experiences in Church history, I realized that I might not be the only one who has felt this way. I found hope in the story of William W. Phelps, who was an author, missionary, and leader of the early Restoration. He was a good man. He preached the gospel wherever he traveled and became a trusted member of the Missouri High Council. William was also a close friend of Joseph Smith.
Which is why his betrayal of Joseph was particularly painful.
In 1838, mobs and militiamen attacked and pillaged the Saints in Missouri, destroying homes and beating resisters. In the aftermath, Joseph Smith and other Church leaders were arrested for baseless crimes. Afraid of being prosecuted alongside them, William W. Phelps and several others made a deal with the prosecutor: testify against Joseph Smith and go free.
Under oath, William joined others in bearing false testimony against the Prophet. After the trial, Joseph and other Church leaders were incarcerated in Liberty Jail. While William left the courthouse a free man, he felt the weight of his actions on his shoulders. Several years later, Joseph Smith received a letter from William asking Joseph for forgiveness.
“I am as the prodigal son,” wrote William. “I have been greatly abased and humbled.”
The Prophet wrote back, “Believing your confession to be real, and your repentance genuine, I shall be happy once again to give you the right hand of fellowship, and rejoice over the returning prodigal.”
Joseph Smith was filled with compassion for William. Just as the father celebrated the return of the prodigal in the scriptures (see Luke 15:11–32), so too did the Saints receive William Phelps back into the fold.
Repentance and forgiveness for William—which likely seemed impossible to him—was now a reality. And it can be a reality for us too!
Joseph Smith acknowledged the pain that William had caused: “We have suffered much in consequence of your behavior—the cup of gall, already full enough for mortals to drink, was indeed filled to overflowing when you turned against us.”
But Joseph continued, “However, the cup has been drunk, the will of our Father has been done.”
Joseph recognized that William’s sins had been paid for and that there was no need for William to suffer any longer. William’s repentance to Heavenly Father could free him from guilt.

“I want to go to school like Christopher does,” grumbled Sarah as she watched the school bus pull away from the curb.
“You can go to school when you are five,” her mom assured her. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
“Carry me,” Sarah demanded.
“I can’t, I’m carrying Adam,” Mom answered. “I’m not strong enough to carry both of you. I can hold your hand if you’d like.”
Sarah took hold of the hand that Mother offered her. “But I wanted you to carry me,” she complained as they walked back into the house.
Sarah climbed up onto the couch. “It’s no fun being three,” she muttered. “Three-year-olds don’t get to do anything.”
Adam had fallen asleep, so Mom carefully placed him in the playpen. Then she sat next to Sarah, lifting the unhappy girl onto her lap. “Christopher goes to kindergarten—that’s what five-year-olds do,” Mom said. “Adam’s taking a nap—that’s what babies do. Let’s think of some things that three-year-olds do.”
“Like what?” Sarah demanded.
“Well, you can play with your modeling clay, or you can have a doll party, or I can push you in the swing, or you can do something else that you choose. What do you think?”
Sarah’s face brightened. “I want to paint, then have a fun party for my dolls, and then make cookies.”
Mom smiled, glad to see Sarah returning to her happy self. “All right,” Mom said, “let’s get you started.” She stood up and lifted Sarah high in the air before putting her down.
Sarah giggled. “And then I want to build a house out of my building blocks. Then I want to swing. Then I want to play with my clay. Then—”
“Slow down!” Mom laughed. “There are a lot of things that three-year-olds can do, but I don’t think that you can do them all today.”
“Maybe not, but I can try!”
Mom got out paper and paints and filled a cup with water for Sarah to dip her paintbrush into. “I know one more thing that three-year-olds get to do,” Mom said as she helped Sarah into her booster seat.
“What?” Sarah asked.
“When we go to church, you go to the nursery. But in January, all the children in the nursery who have turned three will go to Primary.”
“And I’ll go to class with Christopher?”
“Well, you’ll be in different classes, but you’ll go to Sharing Time together,” Mom explained. “And I think that you’ll enjoy Primary. It’s one of the best things about being three.”
Sarah carefully dabbed eyelashes on the big happy face that she had painted. “This is how I’m going to look when I go to Primary,” she said. “I love being three.”

Illustrations by Scott Jarrard
We had just finished reading a novel in my high school English class, and my teacher decided to show a movie adaptation of it that I didn’t feel was appropriate. She sent us all home with permission slips for our parents to approve the material.
I struggled to decide what to do. If I missed this movie and we were given a quiz over it, I could lose a serious grade. But if I watched it, I would be compromising my standards.
The next day our teacher asked us all to turn in our permission slips. I handed her my blank slip and told her that I didn’t want to watch the movie because it had content that was against my standards.
My teacher didn’t seem very happy with my decision, but she sent me into the hallway and gave me several extra assignments to make up for the quiz.
As I sat in the hall working on the assignments, I thought to myself, “This isn’t fair. Why should I get punished for doing the right thing?”
The next day, as the class was ready to finish the movie, I went up to my teacher for the extra work. Surprisingly, she didn’t have any for me and simply told me to wait in the hall. I found out that after the previous class my friends had talked to my teacher about the extra homework that I was assigned and had said they didn’t think it was fair.
I felt grateful for a teacher who respected my standards and for friends who stood up for what I believed in.

A long time ago there lived a handsome king in a gorgeous hilltop palace in a beautiful green land. This king had many servants and costly clothes and delicious food to eat. His crown was covered with rare jewels that shone and twinkled as he turned his head from side to side when he rode in parades.
The king was a good man and a kind man, but because he had never been poor, he didn’t understand the problems that poor people have. He had never had to work hard in the fields or take care of sick children, so he didn’t know what it was like to be weary or very worried.
One day as the king was riding through the countryside in his carriage, a carriage wheel began to wobble. A poor laborer who was working nearby saw the carriage stop. He hurried over, bowed to the king, and offered his services. Pleased that the laborer helped so efficiently and willingly, the king removed his cloak and gave it to him. Now, the laborer needed food for his family, not a cloak that he would never wear, but he humbly bowed and thanked the king.
Another day, when some enemies from afar invaded the king’s land, he sent his ablest soldiers to fight them. His soldiers fought for three days and drove the enemy away. The king was so happy about it that upon the soldiers’ return, he had his entertainers put on a show for them. Now, what the soldiers really wanted was to go home and go to bed because they were exhausted. However, they didn’t wish to give offense, so they humbly bowed before the king and smiled as they watched the show.
One spring a sickness spread throughout the land, and many children became very ill. Mothers and fathers stayed up night after night, caring for their sick children and praying that they would get well.
During this troublous time the king, who had no children, decided to have a beautiful ball and to invite the whole kingdom. He had heard that many families had sick children, but he thought that a ball would cheer them up. The parents cried when they received their invitations because they knew that they must attend. They grieved at leaving their sick children, but the king had such a wonderful time at the ball that he didn’t notice that no one else did.
That night, after the king went to bed, a servant put a container of fireplace embers and ashes just outside the palace door. He had been too eager to get home to his children to dispose of the contents properly. Later, another servant was carrying paper decorations from the palace. He saw the container by the door and, not realizing that it contained smoldering coals, piled the decorations on top of the ashes.
Early the next morning a mother trying to comfort her sick child happened to look out the window and see the whole side of the palace on fire. She sounded the alarm immediately, and the king and the palace workers escaped with their lives. But except for the night clothes that they were wearing, they lost all their possessions. The palace and everything in it were destroyed!
The king stood a safe distance from his once-beautiful palace and watched it burn. His face was covered with soot, and he shivered in the crisp night air. One by one his servants slipped away to return to their families in the countryside. They were afraid to ask him to go home with them, because they knew that he was used to the finest of everything.
So the king crept closer to the charcoaled remains of his palace and sat there all night.
The next day his subjects wanted to take something to the king to let him know that they were sorry for his loss. They knew that whatever they took would have to be something splendid, something fit for a king.
The tinsmith and his wife decided to take a beautiful silver tray and pitcher. When they delivered it to the king, he thanked them kindly. But after they left, he wished that they had brought him some water and a loaf of bread instead, for he was hungry.
The tailor and his wife, forgetting that the king no longer had a bed, took him a pair of satin sheets trimmed with gold thread. The king quietly thanked them, but after they left, he thought that some warm clothes would have been more useful, for he was cold.
When a farmer came with a fine horse as his gift, the king was a little more pleased. At least now he could ride to the river and wash. The king humbly thanked the farmer, but still he wished again that the gift had been some food.
The king could have commanded the people to bring him whatever he wanted, but somehow, without a palace, fine clothes, his beautiful crown, and many servants, he didn’t feel much like a king anymore. He didn’t feel like giving commands.
He rode to the river, washed his face and hands, and drank his fill. Then, as he sat there and wondered and worried about what to do, the poor laborer who had repaired his carriage wheel approached him. The laborer bowed as he held out the cloak the king had given him. “This has never been worn by anyone, Your Majesty, since you gave it to me. I have no use for it.” The laborer was immediately embarrassed by his own words, for he thought that he sounded a bit ungrateful. But the king smiled at the laborer and took the cloak and wrapped it about himself. This man would have been more grateful for food, the king thought, just as I would be now.
The laborer had barely left when a group of musicians and dancers came by. There on the banks of the river they put on a show for the king. The king wanted to cry out, “Don’t bring me music and dance; bring me food and a warm place to stay.” Then he thought of his valiant soldiers, tired and dirty, who had had to sit through a palace show when what they had needed was food and rest.
And he thought of the tired and weary parents who had had to leave their sick children in order to attend his ball. What an inconsiderate and foolish ruler I have been, he thought. If only I could have back my palace, I would be truly kind and help my people according to their real needs.
A long time after the musicians and dancers had left, a shepherd boy approached from the hills. He saw a man, tired and with tears in his eyes, sitting by the river. Not knowing that the man was his king, the shepherd boy sat down beside him and shared his bread and cheese with him.
When the boy returned to his flock, the king mounted his horse and rode back toward the remains of his palace. He was astounded to see loyal subjects from throughout his kingdom hewing logs and shaping stones to rebuild his palace.
The king was grateful for the chance that they were giving him. And he vowed that he would be a much better, kinder ruler.
And he was.

A few years ago I had the assignment while at a stake conference to interview a 21-year-old man to determine his worthiness to serve a mission. Now, General Authorities do not usually interview potential missionaries. So this was unusual. As I read some background regarding the reasons for my interview, my heart ached. This boy had committed serious transgressions. I wondered why I would be asked to visit one with such a background, concluding it would be most unusual for me to recommend him for approval as a missionary.
After the Saturday evening session of conference, I retired to the stake president’s office for the interview. As I was waiting, a handsome young man with a wonderful countenance approached. I wondered how I could excuse myself because it was apparent he wanted to talk and I had an appointment with a very troubled young man. Then he introduced himself. He was the young man I was there for.
In the privacy of the office, I asked just one question: “Why am I interviewing you?”
He recounted his past. When he was through, he began to explain the steps and the personal suffering he had gone through. He talked about the Atonement—the infinite power of the Atonement. He bore his testimony and expressed his love for the Savior. And then he said, “I believe the Savior’s personal suffering in Gethsemane and His sacrifice upon the cross were powerful enough to rescue even a man like me.”
Moved by his humility and by the Spirit, I said, “I am going to recommend you to serve as a representative of Jesus Christ.” And then I said, “I am going to ask only one thing of you. I want you to be the best missionary in the entire Church. That is all.”
Three or four months later, Sister Edgley and I were speaking at a missionary training center. At the conclusion of the devotional, I was visiting with missionaries when I saw a young man with a familiar face.
He asked, “Do you remember me?”
Somewhat embarrassed, I said, “I’m sorry. I know I should, but I just don’t remember.”
Then he said, “Let me tell you who I am. I am the best missionary in the missionary training center.” And I believed him.
This young man’s hope was based not only upon a knowledge and testimony of the Atonement but also upon a personalization of this gift. He understood that it was for him personally! He knew the power of the Atonement and the hope it gives when all might seem lost or hopeless.

Andy stood on the outside of the circle of bigger boys. He tried to see what they were doing. He jumped up and down until the things in his pockets almost fell out.
If only he were taller. If only he were older. Oh, how he wanted to play baseball with them!
Soon the circle of boys broke up. They ran off to the park, and Andy and his little dog, Katy, were left standing alone on the sidewalk.
Andy and Katy ran along behind the bigger boys.
“Wait for me!” Andy called. “Please wait for me!”
But the boys did not hear him. They ran on ahead.
“Their legs are longer than ours, Katy,” Andy told his dog. “We’ll have to hurry to catch up.”
Andy and Katy ran until their legs were tired, and then they slowed down.
A girl on a bike passed them.
“She goes fast because she has wheels,” Andy explained.
A tall man passed them.
“Look how long his legs are,” Andy told Katy.
A big dog ran past them.
“Wow!” exclaimed Andy. “That dog can run fast!”
Andy and Katy kept going. They saw a red box kite up in the air. High over a house, they also saw a blue kite.
Then they saw a boy about Andy’s size sitting on the curb. His kite string was in a tangle, and a torn kite lay on the sidewalk beside him.
“What happened?” Andy asked the boy.
“My kite got caught in the wires and the paper tore,” the boy answered. “I bought this kite as a present for my brother. I was just trying it out to see if it would fly all right.”
“Did it fly all right?” Andy asked.
“Until it hit the wires, it flew very well,” the boy said. “I guess I shouldn’t have tried to fly it. I should have let my brother fly it himself.”
Andy sat down next to the boy. “I have somewhere very important to go,” Andy explained, “but maybe I can help you first.”
Andy reached into his pocket and pulled out some tape and a pair of tiny scissors with rounded points.
“My name is Andy, what’s your name?” Andy asked the boy.
“Chris.”
“Okay, Chris, hold this paper on the stick right here, and I’ll tape it for you,” Andy instructed.
Together the boys taped the kite so it had no holes.
“I think the kite will be all right now,” Andy explained.
“But I don’t think I should fly it anymore,” Chris answered sadly.
“I have two kites at home,” Andy said. “One is in the shape of a fish and the other is red. I’ll go get both of them.”
Andy and Katy ran home and soon came back with the kites. Chris was waiting for them on the curb.
“Here,” Andy offered, “you can fly my red kite.”
“I’ll fly it in the park,” Chris said. “Then it won’t get caught in any wires.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Andy exclaimed, “because that’s where I am headed.”
“What are you going to do in the park?” Chris asked.
“I’m going to play outfield for my brother and his friends,” Andy replied, “if they’ll let me. Sometimes when they don’t have enough big players, they let me play.”
“That’s how my brother is,” Chris said.
When they arrived at the park, Andy looked at the ball players. “See those boys over there? That’s my brother and his friends.”
“I can see my brother playing first base,” said Chris. “You go ahead, Andy. I know you want to play ball.”
“I’ll help you get the kites set up first,” Andy answered.
As they put the strings on the kites, Katy ran through the grass sniffing at all the smells of the park. The wind was stronger now.
“You don’t have to help me anymore, Andy,” Chris told him.
“I know,” Andy replied. “I just want to see how the fish flies in this wind.”
So Andy let out the string and ran with the fish kite.
Chris let out his string and ran with the red kite.
Andy’s fish climbed up into the air. Then the fish dived and dipped back down. Andy pulled on the string and ran faster.
The giant fish went up, up, up—higher than his head, higher than the trees.
Andy let out more and more string. The fish went up until it seemed to be as high as the little white clouds that the wind was pushing across the sky.
Andy looked around for Chris. He saw him not very far away with the red kite high in the air.
Andy heard his brother call, “Hey, Andy, do you want to play right field?”
“No, thanks,” Andy called back. “I can’t now. The wind is just right for flying kites.”
Chris smiled at Andy. “It’s a good day for flying kites,” he laughed.
“It’s perfect,” Andy agreed. “Let’s do this again tomorrow.”
Andy looked at his new friend. Chris was the same size as Andy. Just the right size!

One night I had a dream in which someone said to me: “Blessings for you and your family can be found in your home country.”
I didn’t understand what that meant, but because of my son’s health problems, I had to leave the foreign country I was living in to return home to Cameroon to support my sick son.
Arriving in Cameroon in September 2009 after more than 30 years of absence, I went from one pentecostal church to another, but I still had the same feeling within me that something was missing.
Seven years later, when I went to the temple, I finally understood the meaning of the dream I had, because I performed ordinances for several people in my family.

Eleven-year-old Mitchell won an international art contest about saving the rain forest. His prize was a trip to the rain forest in Brazil for himself and his mother. During his visit to Brazil, he saw many interesting insects and animals, unusual plants, and giant trees. While there, he climbed a very high tower and heard the echo of his voice as he sang out over the tall trees.
When he returned from the trip, Mitchell and his mother attended a dinner for those who had participated in the contest. Someone who had heard him sing in the rain forest invited him to sing for those gathered at the dinner. “Oh no!” he said. He felt shy in front of all those people.
During the dinner, when the people learned that he and his family were “Mormons,” they began to ask questions about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. “Mormons aren’t Christians, are they?” someone asked. Mitchell’s mother quickly assured their new friends that Mormons are indeed Christians. But some people did not seem to believe her.
When Mitchell heard their questions, he whispered to his mother that he had changed his mind—he would like to sing for them. He stood and sang, “I feel my Savior’s love In all the world around me. His spirit warms my soul Through ev’rything I see. He knows I will follow him, Give all my life to him. I feel my Savior’s love, The love he freely gives me.”*
When the beautiful song ended, no one in the room doubted that Mitchell loved the Savior, Jesus Christ, and that Mormons are, indeed, Christians. Mitchell had sung his testimony. He had let his light shine.

Zipporah Garba of Jos District Nigeria
I grew up with the knowledge that I am creative, and I love it. As I grew up, I became more interested in the production of garments, but I needed to learn the skill of sewing to help me achieve my dreams. I enrolled in the self-reliance program and took the Education for Better Work course. I chose tailoring/fashion design and then applied for the PEF loan. That started my journey into the fashion world. It was a beautiful experience. I learned tailoring in one year and now I can make female garments in African styles and English wears. I made my first wedding dress in 2019 and have been able to create many beautiful designs and patterns.
Currently I teach draft garment patterns to some sisters from the Dogon Dutse Branch, and in my neighborhood, as my own way of giving back to my people. I do not only see myself as teaching but also as ministering. I hope that by the end of 2020 I will have created a style and standard for myself and the garments I make which will be a signature for my work because I hope that it becomes a global brand.
I am so grateful to our Heavenly Father for the privilege of the PEF. It has greatly blessed my life and put me on the pedestal of achieving all my dreams. I am prepared to pursue my dreams including all I learned in the self-reliance group meetings.

Laxhmi Tulaseeswari Mada speaks with reverence of the missionaries who brought her into the Church. From them, “Tulasee” learned that she was a child of God. “Before, I didn’t feel like I was worth much,” she says. “But now I have the gospel. I know I am a daughter of God.”
Prior to her conversion, Tulasee lived her life as do many Indian women—under the waning vestiges of purdah, a tradition rooted in modesty that, for centuries, has veiled and secluded women. Brought up by her stepparents, mistreated as a child and adolescent, Tulasee had little sense of self-worth and little hope for the future. “Many times I was crying inside and outside,” she says of her life before finding the gospel.
Learning that she was valuable in God’s eyes offered spiritual balm to Tulasee’s troubled life, but she was reluctant to tell her parents of her baptism. Her father, a prominent Hindu religious teacher known as a guru, noticed a change in her and wanted to know why she seemed happy. When he found out that she had rejected his beliefs, he felt dishonored and disowned her.
Tulasee says the knowledge that she has eternal potential and that she can be exalted prompted her to accept a call as a district missionary in Rajahmundry. “The knowledge I have gained is what my people need,” says Tulasee, named after a Hindu goddess. She retains her given name because “I want people to know that I am a convert. I love missionary work, but it is hard for me to be a missionary in Rajahmundry, because people know who I am.”
It is also hard because Tulasee is a woman. The sight of women missionaries sharing the gospel is not only unusual but unnerving to some Indian men. Male investigators are often surprised to learn that they cannot be exalted without their wives. In the Church, the doctrine of eternal marriage generates increased respect for women and has helped marriages, most of which are still arranged.
Today, Tulasee’s face and bright clothing radiate her newfound optimism and sense of worth. Her baptism and the gift of the Holy Ghost that followed gave her “a most precious feeling I had never felt before. Everybody needs that feeling,” she says. “Through the Holy Ghost, God gave me great answers. I love serving, and I need to share my testimony.”

Photograph courtesy of Stefanie D.
I had always been an active member of the Church, but after my divorce, I lost focus of Heavenly Father’s plan of salvation and my faith. I met someone, and we started living together. My whole life changed. I felt that I was totally in the dark, and I stopped attending church because I felt that I didn’t belong.
But I did continue attending institute. And during this time, a service missionary I met at institute invited me to join BYU–Pathway. I was hesitant, but she promised it would change my life. So I decided to try it for one semester. However, I soon had my first child and didn’t know how to handle being a new mom along with pursuing an education, so I quit.
Later on, I remembered how great I felt during that one semester. I had felt so close to Heavenly Father and wanted that feeling back. So a year later, I started BYU–Pathway again, and many blessings came into my life right after.
I started a beautiful repentance process, married the man I was living with, and even received my temple recommend. Later, I was called to be the Relief Society president. Now I am serving as an institute teacher and love it! My husband has also been learning more about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
We will be able to take all the knowledge we learn into the next life (see Doctrine and Covenants 130:18–19). BYU–Pathway is not just an education—it brought me back to the Lord’s wonderful path.
Stefanie D., Wanica, Suriname

Another lesson I have learned came from an experience I had as a missionary many years ago in the South Africa Johannesburg Mission.
One particular day had been discouraging. My companion and I had met with no success from our proselyting efforts, even though we had worked long and hard in a spirit of fasting and prayer. It was past the time we usually left for home when we turned our bicycles toward a nearby store. Our only thought was finding something to eat. Unfortunately, it was late and the store had already closed for the night. As we debated what to do, I remembered a store on the other side of town that might be open. We both felt impressed to go there. To our delight, we found it open.
I was bending down to select a chocolate bar when I felt a tap on my shoulder. On turning around, I looked into the smiling face of a woman I had not seen for many years.
In speaking with her, we learned that during the past several years she had become less active and had married someone who was not a member of the Church. Recently she and her family had moved into an area about nine miles (15 km) from our proselyting area. She was feeling lonely and missed her association with the Church, but she was a shy person and was reluctant to make contact with strangers. So she had been asking the Lord to bring her into contact with someone she knew well who could introduce her family to the ward they now lived in. She felt our meeting in this store was an answer to prayer, as this was her first visit to this particular store and her decision to visit had come to her suddenly.
On the following Sunday my companion and I gratefully welcomed her and her husband to the local ward.
Many years after this event, she sent me a detailed summary of all the members of her family who in some way had been affected by this experience. Before she returned to Church activity, all of her extended family who were members of the Church were less active. Because of her renewed activity in the Church, her husband was baptized and together they raised their children in the gospel. Since her activation, more than 20 family members have been activated or baptized. Many of them have been married in the temple. Some have also served full-time missions. Three have served as bishops.
I continue to marvel at the faithfulness of this sister and at the graciousness of the Lord in responding to her humble prayer. The store we met in late that evening was out of the way and a long distance from both of our homes—and yet the Lord used it to perform a great work.
When I think of that experience, I see in my mind’s eye two tired, discouraged missionaries and a fulfillment of the Lord’s promise: “I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say” (D&C 82:10).

When the alarm went off at 5:00 a.m., 17-year-old Yee Mun Lim got out of bed and got ready for the day. She left the house at 5:20 for seminary. At 6:30 a.m. she hurried to school, where she stayed until 7:00 p.m. for classes and cocurricular activities. Then she rushed to the stake center by public transport to practice for the stake musical production.
This was the standard routine of most youth in the Singapore Stake every Friday for five months. Sometimes exhaustion and fatigue set in, but throughout the entire preparation for the musical production, When a Prophet Speaks, there were no complaints or regrets, because the youth felt that the sacrifices they made were worthwhile. “This is the most amazing, awesome, spiritually uplifting, fun-filled, and heartwarming event I ever took part in,” said Yee Mun.
“Our initial purpose was to unite the youth,” said Kate Loreto, the stake Young Women president. “We have youth in eight different wards and from various cultural backgrounds. It’s hard for them to interact with each other. So we thought, why not do a musical to bring them together?”
The leaders chose music inspired by the list of B’s from President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008).1 This music was chosen “so the youth could internalize the lyrics of the songs, feel the Spirit, and live the standards,” said Connie Woo, the general director of the production. “We wanted to involve as many youth as possible,” said Sister Woo. In all, 78 youth performed.
Perhaps not all of the youth came with the same motive at the beginning, but almost all of them kept coming to rehearsals because they enjoyed the friendship, the singing, and, most of all, the Spirit.
After the theme was chosen and practices were organized, the youth were assigned to different parts in the production and to different committees that suited their talents.
Ally Chan, age 18, volunteered to help on the costume committee. “We needed to choose something that was modest, which was very important, and it had to be economical, youthful, and at the same time look good on the stage,” she said. Not only did she learn how to make decisions based on gospel standards and working with others, but she was also happy about how the youth looked.
Canden Petersen, age 15, was appointed choir president to help make sure that every practice ran smoothly. His responsibilities included assigning prayers, rallying and herding the youth for practices and games, and announcing seating on the stage. “I was also asked to have some young men help set up and take down the set and oversee the youth in fulfilling their assignments,” he said. “I felt that this responsibility was good for the youth. Hopefully it helped them understand that the Lord calls leaders now, not just from among the adults. They can and should sustain their leaders whatever their age or experience level.”
Kandace Lim, age 18, helped by taking multiple roles, including being a member of the costume committee, the choreography committee, and the photography committee and also by singing a solo. About her many responsibilities, she said: “It was my mum who inspired me to take on these assignments. She taught me that if there’s a chance to serve, just go for it. If you accept the task and put in your best effort, the Lord will definitely help you get through any difficulties you might face.”
Besides these administrative responsibilities, performers were also needed. John Lee, age 17, was one of the brave souls to volunteer for a solo part. His reason was simple: “I just like to sing! And it makes me feel special.”
Ezra Tadina, age 17, didn’t feel like he could sing, so he found another way to contribute. “I chose to be involved,” he said, “and I am actually the one who narrated the part about being involved. I feel the message because I know it’s true.”
The practices extended from November 2009 until March 2010. During this time, the youth gathered at the stake center to rehearse every Friday night, except on holidays. The amount of time and commitment required of the youth was no small sacrifice, considering the strenuous schedule of a typical Singaporean youth.
First-year junior college student Olivia Hoe chose to participate because “no matter how life throws mud at me, at the end of the day, it’s the gospel that’s going to keep me standing and pull me through the rubble. Knowing that there’s One who’s looking out for me and loving me completely gives me plenty of comfort, and I think that’s more than enough to get me going every day.”
Many of the youth had other commitments, but they knew that the Lord had laid a path for them. Such was the case of 16-year-old Amanda Ho. “I had dance practice, which clashed with some of the rehearsals for this musical, but miraculously the school changed the practice schedule, which enabled me to turn up for the musical rehearsals,” she explained.
After months of practice, the show was finally ready to be performed. Thanks to the teens’ enthusiastic promotion, more than 700 people showed up to watch them at three performances. As the youth shared their message through songs, dance, instrumental music, and their own testimonies, many in the audience were touched.
The group was also challenged to invite nonmember friends to see their performance and to make it a missionary opportunity. Michael Lee, age 18, took this challenge seriously. “I invited six friends to come, and three of my schoolmates and a schoolteacher came,” he said. Their performances especially left an impression on his teacher. “He said that it was a great experience. He even requested a copy of the For the Strength of Youth booklet. He said that he felt the energy through the many hopeful hearts of the youth.”
The leaders’ initial purpose of bringing the youth together was certainly fulfilled. “As I sat there and looked up at each of them during the performance, my heart was filled with joy,” Sister Woo said. “It was not about how good they looked, how well they sang and played, or how well they delivered the narrations. It was not about which school or country they came from. They were one.”
The musical helped many gain a stronger testimony. Some say they hum the tunes and sing the lyrics of the songs wherever they might be, and the message in the songs helps them get through their daily challenges. Many of them became not just good friends but spiritual supports who can lift each other up when the going gets tough. They can help each other stay on the narrow path and grow spiritually.

William Clayton was the official camp historian. To help direct those who would follow, he and others kept careful records of the camp’s travel. In order to calculate the distance traveled each day, he tied a piece of red flannel to a wagon-wheel spoke and walked beside the wagon, counting the times the wheel turned. This was a tiresome task, and he proposed the idea for a mile counter. Orson Pratt suggested a design for the machine, and William Clayton and Appleton Harmon constructed it. This device, called an odometer, counted 10 miles, then started over. This made William’s job much easier.

“Hurricane leaves hundreds homeless … Civil war leaves families to starve … Street crime on the rise …”
Flipping through the TV channels or browsing through a newspaper can bring up horribly sad images. But what’s really sad is, there’s nothing you can do about it, right? Wrong. Just ask the youth of the Canby First Ward outside Portland, Oregon. They were frustrated with feeling powerless, so they figured out a way to make a difference.
“I wanted to help people in need,” says John Stone, “but I didn’t know how to do it.”
John and the other LDS youth in Canby wanted to find the best way to donate and be sure that their help actually reached those in need. Little did they know they would find their answer in their very own church.
They learned that Deseret Industries funnels excess clothing and other donations to the Sort Center in Salt Lake City, which then processes the items and sends them around the globe. Because Portland has one of the 15 Deseret Industries locations in the world, the youth organized a D.I. drive by contacting ward members and neighbors and asking them to donate clothes. But they weren’t going to ask others to do something they wouldn’t do themselves. They wanted to give their unknown friends throughout the world the shirts off their backs—literally.
“I had clothes that I wanted to give to these people, so this was a perfect opportunity,” says John’s sister, Laura Stone. “I just want to make it better for people in Africa, Bosnia, and everywhere else. If they need something more than I do, I want them to have it.”
Crystal Powell and her 12-year-old sister, Brook, felt so strongly about helping that they convinced their parents to come home early from family vacation so they could participate in the D.I. drive.
“Sometimes I feel so small, seeing all these people that need so much help,” says Crystal, 15. “I was not going to miss this chance to do my part, even though it is really small.”
Youth in the Canby First Ward already know the value of service. “We get the best turnout at service projects,” says Brandon Crum, a priest. “Service activities are far more memorable than anything else we do.”
They fixed up the local full-time missionaries’ yard, weeded a cemetery for the Memorial Day holiday, and cleaned the Canby Pond, which Michelle Sajovic said was “bad news” until they worked their magic on it.
“People around here recognize that our church is very service oriented,” 18-year-old Michelle said.
But how do you help when tragedies strike far away?
“Take the Mississippi floods,” says Blair Entze, 14. “I just wanted to go over there and help fill bags of sand myself. But I know I can’t just go wherever the problems are and try to solve them.”
Blair understands how the Church accomplishes service: “And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order” (see Mosiah 4:27). We should help our brothers and sisters, and the Lord has provided wise and orderly ways to do so.
“It’s overwhelming to think that our clothes are going to go all over the world,” says Ashlee Edwards, 16. “It gives me peace to know that I’m helping.” A little love can go a long way. And in this case, it went all around the world. Maybe someday, if enough people believe they can make a difference, the headlines will read:
“Children are healthier … Peace returns after years of war … LDS Church service opens the doors for missionary work.”

One Sunday a small child handed the bishop his family’s donation envelope as he entered the chapel before the sacrament meeting. The family had just learned of someone in the ward in need. The boy’s father had said something like this to the child as he placed a generous fast offering in the envelope: “We fasted today and prayed for those in need. Please give this envelope to the bishop for us. I know that he will give it to help those with greater needs than ours.”

I could tell from the boy’s smile and the way he held the envelope so tightly that he felt the great trust of his father to carry the family offering for the poor.

A family from another country moved in across the street. They had two girls close to my age. They didn’t know much about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. I became friends with them. I noticed that they swore a lot and did other things that weren’t good. Instead of walking away and not being their friend, I told them about Heavenly Father and the gospel, and said they shouldn’t swear or do bad things. I even invited them to church. Ever since then, they have been doing better and not swearing so much. They even started saying prayers at night. I am glad I can be a good missionary.
Natalie C., age 10, Idaho

In my first year of high school, an eating disorder took over my life. I told everyone I was OK so they wouldn’t ask questions, but I was cold, weak, and tired all the time from a lack of food. I lost interest in the things I used to love. I even stopped praying to Heavenly Father. I felt guilty for not being the person I thought I should be.
At first, I refused to believe I had a problem. But eventually I got a strong feeling I should tell my close friend about my struggles. I had no idea that opening up to someone I trusted would save my life.
My friend told my parents what was going on, out of concern for me. When I finally told them the truth myself, I felt Heavenly Father’s love more strongly than I ever had before. It radiated through the love that my parents and the rest of my friends and family showed me. Their Christlike support helped me accept that I did have an eating disorder—and that, with the help of Heavenly Father, I was going to get through it.
Starting my recovery was the most difficult journey I’d ever been on. I was in the hospital after school every day for counseling and treatment. When the road started to feel hopeless, I found comfort through prayer and reading my scriptures.
I still struggle with my eating disorder, but it no longer controls my life. My Heavenly Father understands my trials, my heartache, and my guilt, and I know now that I didn’t go through it all on my own. When I see myself through Heavenly Father’s eyes, I sense my eternal destiny. I can feel His love for me—a love that can help me overcome anything.
The author lives in Alabama, USA.