Gospel Story Finder

Nathan’s fingers smashed the buttons on the controller. He was so close to beating this level! He stared at the TV while his rocket ship dodged the green blasts.
“Nathan, time for dinner!” Mom called.
Bam! Nathan’s ship got hit. Nathan groaned. Now he’d have to restart. But he knew he could beat this level if he tried just one more time.
Dad came into the room. “Did you hear Mom? It’s time to eat.”
Nathan sighed and paused the game. He and Dad sat down with the rest of the family. Nathan ate his food as fast as he could. He wanted to get back to his game.
“Thanks! That was good.” He jumped up from the table.
“Slow down, buddy,” Dad said. “Mom and I want to talk with you.”
Uh-oh. Was Nathan in trouble?
When everyone else was done, Mom and Dad stayed at the table with Nathan.
“We’ve noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time playing video games,” Dad said.
Nathan squirmed. “They’re really fun.”
“That’s true,” Mom said. “But other things are fun too. We missed you yesterday when we were playing games as a family. We always have more fun when you’re with us!”
Nathan had been working on an awesome bonus level last night. By the time he beat it, his family was done playing games. He felt kind of sad he missed it.
Nathan frowned. “Does this mean I’m not allowed to play video games anymore?”
“We’re not saying that,” Dad said. “We just want you to be more aware of how much time you spend on them. And to make sure they’re not keeping you from other important things, like chores and homework and scripture study.”
Nathan looked down. “I guess I have been falling behind on some stuff.”
“We’re sure you can figure out how to find a better balance,” Dad said.
“Could you help me?” Nathan asked.
Mom smiled. “Of course.”
Together, Nathan, Mom, and Dad decided how much video game time Nathan should have each day. Then they came up with a plan. They would put a poster of a stoplight next to the TV. If Nathan could stop playing when Mom and Dad called him, the stoplight would go on yellow. If they had to ask him more than once, it would go on red. And if he could stop on his own before they asked, it would go on green.
Each night before bedtime, they would talk about how Nathan did that day. If the stoplight was on red, he would have less time to play the next day. But if it stayed on green, Mom and Dad would take him to the space museum!
Nathan knew it would be hard to change his habits. But he was ready for the challenge.
For the first few days, the stoplight stayed on yellow. Then Nathan messed up, and it had to go to red. He wanted to try extra hard next time. So the next day, he set an alarm so he would know how long he’d been playing. Finally, he made it to green!
After a few days of green, Mom and Dad took him to the space museum. Nathan stared up at a giant rocket. It looked like the one in his game, but even cooler. He grinned. It was fun to be here with Mom and Dad. He wanted to see how long he could stay on green!
This story took place in the USA.

When I was 10 years old, my family became refugees in a new land. I had always been a good student in school—that is, until we arrived in West Germany. There, my educational experience was a significantly different one. The geography we studied in my school was new to me. The history we studied was also very different. Before, I had been learning Russian as a second language; now, it was English. This was hard for me. Indeed, there were moments when I truly believed my tongue simply was not made to speak English.
Because so much of the curriculum was new and strange to me, I fell behind. For the first time in my life, I began to wonder if I was simply not smart enough for school.
Fortunately I had a teacher who taught me to be patient. He taught me that steady and consistent work—patient persistence—would help me to learn.
Over time, difficult subjects became clearer—even English. Slowly I began to see that if I applied myself consistently, I could learn. It didn’t come quickly, but with patience, it did come.
From that experience, I learned that patience was far more than simply waiting for something to happen—patience required actively working toward worthwhile goals and not getting discouraged when results didn’t appear instantly or without effort.

I always tell my granddaughter that tithing is the best money I ever spend.
It was nearly 60 years ago when I got into the tithing habit. I had gone to Chicago to find a job after graduating from college. I had in my pocket the money I’d earned from a summer job. It wasn’t much, but since I would be staying with friends and since the cost of living in 1941 was low, I thought I would have enough money to support myself until I could earn more.
The first Sunday I attended church in the Chicago area, one of the speakers talked convincingly about the importance of paying tithing and bore his testimony about the blessings of keeping that commandment. Although I had been raised in the Church, I had never paid or even thought of paying tithing. But that changed during that sacrament meeting. When it was over, I calculated how much money I had made during the summer and figured the tithing I owed on it. With almost all the cash I had, I paid my tithing debt. I had barely enough left for bus and train fare, and I didn’t have a job yet.
When I had left my family in another state, I had been sure I could make it on my own without financial help from my parents. Now I wasn’t so confident.
Finally, with only a few coins left, I stopped in a department store and used some free stationery to write my parents a letter asking for help. The letter would probably take three days to be delivered. Could I hold out that long? I wondered.
The next day I received a call from a company that needed some temporary help. (It later turned into a full-time job.) Gleefully I called my dad to tell him, “Never mind! I don’t need any money.”
Since that time I have always had what I need when I pay my tithing. And that is why I say to my granddaughter, “Paying tithing is the best money I ever spend. It buys me peace of mind.”

The next story that I would like to share with you is related to the first, and demonstrates the power of faith and hope when building Zion even when we don’t immediately see the fruits of our labor.

In 2004 my oldest daughter was called to serve in the Utah Provo Mission and she was assigned to the St. George Temple Visitors’ Center. At one point in her mission she remembers pleading with Heavenly Father to help her understand why she got called to the Utah Provo Mission.

One day shortly after she and her companion were knocking on doors in a retirement community in St. George, an elderly gentleman opened the door and invited them in. He introduced himself and my daughter and her companion introduced themselves. He was pleasantly surprised when he found out that my daughter was from Fiji and began speaking to her in Fijian. He told her that he served his mission there many years ago. After a few minutes of conversation, my daughter realized that this was Elder Abbott, the same missionary who with his companion Elder Harris organized the church in Fiji and called my mother, Emma, to be the first Relief Society president in 1954. He quickly went and got his missionary Book of Mormon to show my daughter. He had the names and signatures of the 14 members of the church that attended the first meeting in Fiji. He then told my daughter that while on his mission he never had one convert baptism – and it was hard for him. All these years he felt his “mission” was unsuccessful. My daughter saw the sadness in his eyes.

It was at that precise moment that it became very clear to her that one of the reasons she was sent to the Utah Provo Mission and assigned to the St. George area was for this elderly man who felt that his mission was unsuccessful. My daughter noticed four names on the list in Brother Abbott’s Book of Mormon and she pointed to them and said the following:

“Brother Abbott: This person, Emma Lobendahn is my grandmother. These two people – Brian and Elliott Lobendahn are my uncles. This person, Irene Lobendahn is my mother. I am her eldest child.”

She told him that he was the missionary who gave her mother (me) a baby’s blessing; that he was the missionary who extended the call to her grandmother, and gave her a special blessing to help her fulfill her calling as the Relief Society President; and that she served faithfully in that calling for 23 years, long after he returned home from his mission.

My daughter told him how her father, my husband Brother Meli Lesuma, joined the church in 1973. He served a mission in 1977, and converted his whole family. His three younger brothers and now his four children have all served missions. She told him that Fiji now has a temple, four stakes, one district and many wards and branches. She told him that the church membership in Fiji is over 12,000. She then said,

“Brother Abbott, because of you and your work as the first missionary in Fiji, you accomplished many great things and I and my family will always be grateful to you. Your work has brought thousands of people into the church in Fiji.”

When my daughter finished sharing these details, Brother Abbott was in tears. He was grateful for my daughter’s timely visit, and no longer felt that his mission was unsuccessful.

My first reaction when I heard this story was to reflect on what a loving Heavenly Father we have, who knew to send help and reassurance to this man. I spoke with Brother Abbott on the phone, he said that when he called my mother to be the Relief Society President, he knew that she was the one the Lord wanted to help build Zion in Fiji, and that all she needed to do was to get rid of her fears.

In 2003, I married and moved to South Africa where I have lived for the past 15 years. I often visit extended family in Maputo once or twice a year. While there I like to visit different wards to worship on a Sunday. As a pioneer member in Maputo, Mozambique, I love seeing the growth of the church in my home country. I love visiting old friends – brothers and sisters in the gospel – and to meet new members. I get tremendous satisfaction from seeing that my friends are still actively engaged in this work of salvation – the gospel of Jesus Christ – standing still and immovable in faith.
I was recently in Maputo and attended Polana and Sommershield wards. I was able to catch half of the sacrament meeting from Polana and then attended other meetings in Sommershield. While sitting in the congregation I was very pleased to see one of my Primary children, Vinícius, now a married young adult. He was sitting on the stand, conducting the Sacrament Meeting. As our eyes met, we smiled at each other and as I gazed around the congregation I saw other familiar faces – one of whom was Vinicius’ brother. My eyes were filled with tears of joy to see my former Primary children, 18 years later still active in the church. After the intermediate hymn, Vinícius stood up to announce the rest of the sacrament program from the pulpit to the congregation. Vinicius served his mission in Brazil and married in the temple not long ago. He is currently studying at university and serving as the second counsellor in the bishopric of Polana ward. With tears rolling my face, my thoughts went back to those Primary years when Vinícius and his brother were part of the Primary children that I served. I could picture in my mind the things that he used do and say to me then.
I felt the Holy Ghost whispering to me “your service in Primary has made a difference to someone…look at the fruit”. I had the sweetest feeling contemplating that moment. I was reminded of the scripture found in Mosiah 2:17 that says “when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God”. My heart felt full and I was glad to be able to witness Heavenly Father’s plan for each of His children. I was grateful that I accepted the calling to serve in Primary and that I strived to learn how best to serve Heavenly Father’s children during my calling. I know of many more Primary children, like Vinícius, who are faithful followers of the Saviour. Many have served full-time missions and are currently receiving an education to prepare for their future careers and in future leadership callings in the church.

Years ago, following a mission tour, my wife, Jeanene, told me about an elder she had met. Jeanene had asked him about his family. She was surprised as he responded that he had no family. He further explained that at his birth, his mother had given him to the government to raise. He spent his childhood going from one foster home to another. He was blessed as a teenager to find the gospel. A loving ward family had helped him to have the opportunity to serve a mission.

Later Jeanene asked the mission president’s wife about this fine elder. She learned that a few months earlier this elder had been in the mission home for a few days due to an illness. During that time he had joined them for a family home evening. Before he left to go back into the field, he asked the mission president if he could spend two or three days at the end of his mission in the mission home again. He wanted to observe how a Christ-centered family functions. He wanted to be able to pattern his family after theirs.

There were no swimming pools in the small town of Vernal, Utah, where I spent most of my childhood, so we swam in irrigation canals. Some of them were deep and could be dangerous if you weren’t a fairly good swimmer.
Many of my friends were a little older than I was, and they knew how to swim. I did not. I didn’t want my friends to know that, though, so when I went with them, I made excuses and played around on the bank, or went to where the water was shallow and acted as if I was swimming. I was really just pushing on the bottom of the canal with my feet and dog-paddling with my hands, but I kept faking it, thinking nobody knew that I couldn’t swim. My dad knew, however, and one time he said to me, “I don’t mind your going with the boys to the canals, but I want you to promise me that you will never go into water that is over your head unless an adult is there and knows what you’re doing.”
That was a problem for me. I didn’t like his rule because it meant that I wasn’t always free to go with my friends. But I agreed to do what my father had asked.
One day several of my friends were planning to go to a canal I had never been to before. I asked them if it was deep, and they said, “Oh, yes, it’s a really good place to swim.” They told me it was a wider, deeper canal than most—forty feet or so across.
When I told them I couldn’t go, they wanted to know why, so I finally told them, “I promised my dad I wouldn’t swim in water that’s over my head, because I can’t swim very well.” That was the way I put it: “I can’t swim very well.” So we hunted around to see if we could find an adult, and my uncle, who lived next door and happened to be home, agreed to go there with us.
The first thing my friends did when we got there was swim to the other side. I still hadn’t told them I couldn’t swim, so I thought, Well, now is the time; I have to do it.
I got into the water and started across, and somehow—driven by panic more than anything else, just flailing my hands and feet in the water—I made it to the other side. But then my friends turned around and swam right back, leaving me alone on the bank.
I said to myself, I made it once; I guess I can do it again. And I started across. But by this time I was too tired, and the way I was “swimming” was wearing me out. I reached the middle of the canal and just couldn’t go any farther.
I went down. I don’t know how deep the water was there, but I remember seeing it get darker and darker as I sank deeper. I held my breath, and when my feet finally touched the bottom, I pushed off for the top. I was above the water just long enough to look around and see my uncle sitting over on the bank before I went down again.
When I came back up, I yelled to my uncle for help, then down I went again. I didn’t think to inhale when I got to the top and then exhale as I went down; I was trying to do both at once, and there wasn’t much time for it. When I came up again, I saw that my uncle had jumped into the water and was swimming after me. By the time he reached me, I was at the point where I thought I couldn’t do it anymore because I wasn’t getting enough air. My uncle was a powerful man, however, and he pulled me to shore. I lay there panting and gasping, but I was OK.
I have thought about that incident often since then. How grateful I am for a father who was wise enough to put safeguards around my life. I could have died that day by giving in to the pressure of my friends, but my dad had made a rule that there be an adult with me, and that rule saved my life. I learned to value obedience. Obedience is not just to please someone else—it is for our own good.

I learned the importance of focusing on people when I served as a stake president in France. At the beginning of my service, I had in mind some very ambitious goals for the stake: the creation of new wards, the building of new meetinghouses, and even the construction of a temple in our area. When I was released six years later, not one of these objectives had been achieved. This could have felt like a complete failure except that, during the course of those six years, my objectives had become quite different.
As I sat on the stand on the day of my release, I was overwhelmed by a profound sense of gratitude and accomplishment. I looked at the faces of the hundreds of members in attendance. I could recall a spiritual experience connected with each one of them.
There were those brothers and sisters who had entered the waters of baptism, those for whom I had signed their first recommends so they could receive the sacred ordinances of the temple, and those young people and couples I had set apart or released as full-time missionaries. There were many others to whom I had ministered as they were going through trials and adversity in their lives. I felt intense brotherly love for each of them. I had found pure joy in serving them and rejoiced in their increased loyalty to and faith in the Savior.

Paul and his parents were walking to church. Paul felt excited. Today was the Primary program! All the children were going to sing songs and share scriptures during church. It was Paul’s first time being in the program.
When they got to the church, Paul saw the missionaries. They had been teaching Paul’s family about the gospel.
“Ready?” Sister Walker said.
Paul nodded. He had learned a scripture. It was about how Jesus asked us to love everyone. Paul was ready to share it!
They all went inside and sat down. Soon the bishop asked the children to come to the front of the chapel. Paul stood with his new friends. He smiled a big smile. He could see his mom and dad smiling too. Then the music began.
“If the Savior stood beside me, would I do the things I do?” Paul tried to sing every word clearly. He imagined Jesus was listening.
In the middle of the song, Paul saw someone open the door at the back of the chapel. A boy named Mark walked in. He was with his family. Mark looked at the other kids singing. He seemed sad.
Maybe he’s sad he got here late, Paul thought. Mark started walking slowly up to the stand.
Paul remembered when he came to Primary for the first time. He was glad that other people sat next to him and were nice.
Paul wanted to help Mark. He waved for Mark to come to him. “Come up here!” Paul mouthed the words.
Mark walked quickly up to the stand. Paul made room for Mark.
He gave Mark a hug. “Thanks for coming,” Paul whispered.
Mark gave Paul a big smile.
Soon the song ended. Paul and Mark sat down together. Paul was glad he could help a friend feel loved and welcome.
You can find “If the Savior Stood Beside Me” in the March 2013 Friend.

For many young people, the high school years can be difficult. The pressure to fit in with the crowd—coupled with school, sports, and the struggle to find an identity—can create situations that make it hard to live life in harmony with gospel standards. I was certainly no exception. There were many times when I questioned both my ability to live righteously and my strength to overcome temptation. I watched a close friend, who was a Church member, fall to temptation. I saw him continually make poor decisions until he dropped out of school and began to refuse my aid and advice. As I saw most of my friends surrender themselves to Satan’s will, and as I felt a separation growing between us, I feared I would be the next to fall.

I began to realize, however, that whenever I was faced with a difficult decision, I had already made the choice. I knew what was right, and I had already decided that I was going to serve a mission.

Ever since I was young, I have been eagerly looking forward to serving a mission, and I don’t want to do anything to put that in jeopardy. This desire and goal to serve has been a tremendous blessing in my life. I think it has truly separated me from my friends in high school. This sense of purpose has helped me in all of my decisions. I have not even served a full-time mission yet, but already I can feel the blessings that I am receiving because of my choices.

After our mom passed away unexpectedly, my brother and I weren’t just grieving—we were also left facing a financial crisis.
Our father had died years before, and while our mom raised us, she had often lent others money during their times of need. Unfortunately, her generosity resulted in her not having enough money to pay her own debt, leaving my brother and me responsible for paying off her loans.
Both of us were still finishing our studies and hadn’t started working, so we were anxious about paying off the debt while also covering our monthly expenses.
We didn’t know what to do, so we turned to Heavenly Father for help.
After many prayers, my brother and I felt inspired to ask for financial advice from friends who were good with budgeting. We had been considering selling our house because we didn’t have enough money to pay for it and our loans each month. But with their help, we decided to sell valuables in our home to make payments until I graduated and found a job.
Somehow, we always had enough money to make our loan payments.
Despite this miracle, sometimes I still got discouraged. I was working a lot and wanted to move on with my own life. I had my own dreams, including serving a mission, which seemed impossible even if we managed to pay off this debt.
I prayed to Heavenly Father and told Him my desire to go. I promised Him I would do whatever I could from my end to make it happen, and I asked Him to show me the way so I could go and serve.
I had a testimony of self-reliance and tithing, but it was really tempting to not pay a full tithe until we’d resolved our debt. But I tried to remember the promised blessings of putting the Lord first, and we paid the full amount (see Malachi 3:10–11). I also found hope in these words from the Lord: “It is my purpose to provide for my saints, for all things are mine” (Doctrine and Covenants 104:15).
Ultimately, I kept trusting Heavenly Father’s timing, practicing patience, and believing that He cared about my life.
Eventually my brother also got a job after graduating. We continued being mindful of spending, putting any extra money we had toward the seemingly never-ending debt.
After four years, we made our last payment on the loans. I couldn’t believe it—we had somehow managed to live, finish our studies, and pay off these debts in time. It was freeing to no longer feel that financial burden on my shoulders. I knew Heavenly Father had helped us.
It was truly a miracle.
Through this experience, I learned that the Lord will magnify our efforts when we have faith and work hard. As He promises us, “I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up” (Doctrine and Covenants 84:88).
When my circumstances seemed impossible, the Lord provided a way (see 1 Nephi 3:7).
After my steady, consistent efforts and the miracles of the Lord, I eventually was able to serve a mission. The moment I realized this was within my reach was such a miracle. I had seen no way to make this happen, but I knew my prayers had been answered.

I am grateful to a young man who shared with me the following experience. He and another Aaronic Priesthood holder were assigned to administer the sacrament to a man who was homebound and very sick. They arrived at his home not realizing that recent medical treatments prevented him from eating any food—even a piece of the sacrament bread. After blessing the bread, the young man presented the sacrament to the frail man. He took a piece of the blessed bread, waited a moment, and then held it against his lips. The young man said when he saw this faithful brother express his reverence for the sacrament, he felt as though he were watching him kiss the feet of the Savior. He could tell that he loved Him.

The significance of the sacrament was impressed upon that young man in an unforgettable way that day. You will have sacred experiences, just as this young man did.

For Clara Leticia Cruz Cano of Puerto Rico, her love of the Book of Mormon started when she was about four. She noticed that her older brother got to take a turn reading in their family’s nightly scripture study, and she wanted a turn also. She asked her parents to help her, and soon she was part of the reading circle.
At age 12, Clara took on a new challenge. Instead of reading in her native Spanish, she read the Book of Mormon in English. At age 14, she read it in French; at age 15, in Portuguese; and at 16, in Italian.
In August 2005, when President Gordon B. Hinckley asked Latter-day Saints to read or reread the Book of Mormon, Clara was already into it in German.
“This is harder, but I will get through it,” she said.
Her reading in various languages has expanded her vocabulary. “When I come to a word I don’t know, I look it up. Soon I get tired of looking it up, so I memorize it,” she explains. Her study of languages has also helped in her schoolwork. Last year, at 17, Clara became the top public school graduate on her island.
Clara has uncovered some gems in her multilingual study. She even found that her middle name, Leticia, means “gladness” in the Italian translation (see 2 Nephi 1:21; 8:3).
Like some others, Clara has a collection of copies of the Book of Mormon in several languages. But, she says, “I decided I wouldn’t have any copies of the Book of Mormon I can’t read.”
That means her next project is already on her bookshelf. Her bishop, Hector Alvarez, saw her perusing a copy of the Book of Mormon in his home and gave it to her. She now has the self-assigned opportunity to learn not only another language but also a new alphabet. The book is in Russian.

While most quorum members are still in bed, David is up checking over his agenda for presidency meeting and preparing to conduct the quorum meeting.
Shortly before time for priesthood meeting, he calls some of his deacons to remind them of assignments or invite them to the meeting.
David’s father calls the family together for family prayer before he and David leave for priesthood meeting.
David knows that he must set an example in personal grooming as in all other ways. Before leaving for the chapel, he checks his appearance in the hall mirror.
This is a special day. It is the first day the Brampton Ward is meeting in phase one of its new meetinghouse. David and the other deacons have helped in its construction. Now they will help with the landscaping and the construction of phase two. They will always help to keep it clean and its atmosphere reverent.
David welcomes the deacons and adult leaders to the deacons quorum meetings, discusses business, and makes assignments. Then he listens intently as his adviser teaches the lesson.
After quorum meeting, he meets with his counselors, Randy Sookhoo and Terry DeGouw and his secretary, Kingsley Anderson, in quorum presidency meeting. They complete their three-month calendar, and David assigns responsibility for the activation of quorum members. They also plan a strawberry-picking party.
In Sunday School David serves as bishop’s messenger and passes the sacrament. Afterward he takes an active part in his Sunday School class discussion.
After lunch David and his father work on their talks. David’s father is a high councilor, and he and David are speaking at a ward in Toronto this afternoon.
David talks on the keys of the Aaronic Priesthood. His father talks on the importance of families. Everyone listens intently as David speaks. He has prepared well and speaks fluently.
Back home, the family relaxes after dinner by playing a scripture-study game. David does well because he studies his scriptures daily.
Before getting ready for bed, David records his day’s activities and insights in his journal.
Sunday is a special day for a deacons quorum president, but throughout the entire week, David will try to help his deacons. He says, “I feel that if I don’t do my job I’m going to be in real trouble, because the Church needs good deacons to make it strong.”

Melissa whistled happily as she made her bed. Today was the day. Last night she had felt a little nervous about her decision until she said her prayers. After that, she knew that she was doing the right thing, even if she was only nine years old.
She thought of Misha, and the whistle died on her lips. Melissa had been in church when she first heard of the terrible accident. Brother and Sister Barton were in one hospital with broken bones and surgeries. Tanna and Brian were in another in traction. Misha was all by herself with a head injury in still another—and in a deep coma. Melissa didn’t understand everything about it, but she did know that it meant Misha might never wake up.
Melissa was smoothing out the bedspread when her mom called. “You’d better hurry. You don’t want to be late for school.”
Melissa smiled again. This was one morning she wouldn’t have to hurry.
“What’s taking you so long this morning?” Mom asked as Melissa came out of her room. “You should have finished breakfast by now. It’s almost time for scriptures.”
Melissa smelled the yummy aroma of orange biscuits fresh from the oven. “Oh, Mom!” she cried. “I didn’t know we were having biscuits today.”
“I know they’re your favorite,” Mom said. “I decided to surprise you.”
Melissa looked into the kitchen at the yummy biscuits and sighed. Then she walked into the living room and picked up her scriptures from the end table by the flowered couch.
“What’s going on, Melissa?” Mom asked. “You know you have to eat before we read.”
I have to tell her now, Melissa thought. I wish I could do it in secret like the scriptures teach, but I’ll have to explain to Mom. No one else, though.
“Mom,” she said, “I’m not going to eat today.”
“You certainly are!” Mom exclaimed. “You need a nutritious breakfast to do well in school.”
“I’m not just going without food,” Melissa said. “I’m fasting today for Misha. We’ve learned in family home evening and at church that we should do everything we can to help one another. Well, I’ve been praying for Misha, and I thought that that was all I could do. But then I remembered that I could fast for her, too, so I decided that today I would. Mom, I just have to do this! I know I’ll get hungry, but I know that Heavenly Father will help me. Please.”
Tears welled up in Mom’s eyes. “Oh, Melissa,” she whispered, “I’m sure that Heavenly Father will bless you and Misha both.”
By eleven thirty, Melissa began to feel really hungry. Morning recess had helped take her mind off food, but back in class, the hunger pains started to bother her again. Soon it was time for the class to line up for the cafeteria.
“Melissa, where is your lunch?” Jennifer asked. “I thought you hated the cafeteria food.”
Melissa looked at the floor. “I’m not eating today.”
“Not eating!” Jason squeaked. “Are you nuts?”
Ignoring him, Melissa hurried forward with the rest of the class. When they arrived at the cafeteria, she quickly washed her hands and moved toward their class table.
“Miss Black, are you on a diet?” the school principal teased. “Your lunch looks a little on the light side.”
“Oh, ah …” Melissa stammered, but the principal’s attention had turned to a commotion in the snack-bar line. Whew! Melissa thought. That was a close one. She walked quickly to her table and sat at the end of the bench.
“May I sit by you?” Tiffany asked.
“Sure.”
“I see you’re not eating today. Do you feel OK?”
“Oh sure, it’s just that … well, I’m just not eating.” It sure would be easier if I could just explain. I hope no one else asks me about this.
“Melissa,” said Megan, “why—”
Melissa stood up. “Excuse me.” She started toward the door.
“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?”
Melissa’s heart jumped. She turned and saw Mr. Winterton.
“Mr. Winterton,” she began. “I need to … to …” She didn’t want to lie, but she needed to be alone for a few minutes. “I need to go someplace quiet,” she finally blurted.
Mr. Winterton’s face crinkled in puzzlement. This was indeed an unusual request—one that he had never heard in three years of cafeteria duty. He studied Melissa a long moment, then surprised himself by saying, “All right, I think we can work that out. Come sit quietly outside this side door. No one should bother you there.”
Grateful, Melissa slipped through the doorway and sat down against the wall. The coolness of the cement blocks felt good against her hot back. She bowed her head and began a silent prayer. Dear Heavenly Father, please help Misha and her family get better. I know that Thou lovest me and that Thou lovest Misha. Please help her to get better and wake up. Please!
As Melissa ended the prayer in Jesus’ name, and sat quietly, a comforting warmth filled her, and she felt peaceful and happy. She knew in her heart that Heavenly Father had heard her prayer, and she was glad that she’d done everything she could to help Misha get better. She no longer felt hungry. She wasn’t worried about what to say to her friends, either. The Spirit was with her, and right now she didn’t need anything else.

When they moved to Palmyra, New York, in 1816, they had been tried in every possible way. Two of their 10 children had died. They had been impoverished by a national economic downturn and a dishonest business associate. Poor weather had caused crop failures three seasons in a row. Lucy came near death from the consumption that had killed her two sisters. A typhus epidemic attacked all of Joseph and Lucy’s children. Little Sophronia’s life was spared only after her parents poured out their hearts on their knees by her bedside with “grief and supplication.” And young Joseph, age seven or eight, suffered a bone marrow infection—a complication that required almost-crippling surgery. The family’s good reputation had also suffered along with their fortunes, and they were “warned out” of the Vermont village where they lived so that the town would not be required to provide assistance.

I honestly believe that when the scriptures say, “Remember, remember” (Helaman 5:12), they mean that we should not just remember Jesus Christ or remember that we once felt His Light. We must feel His Light now and feel it again and again. That is what one young man, Eric, discovered when he first read the Book of Mormon.

After moving to a new place and starting high school, Eric struggled in his classes and found it hard to fit in. He also began to wonder if he had a testimony.

“I began to seriously read the Book of Mormon for the first time in my life,” Eric said. “I read and prayed every day.”

When Eric prayed and asked Heavenly Father if the Book of Mormon is true, he was sure he was going to get an answer, but nothing happened.

Sometime later, while walking through the woods behind his house, Eric asked again. This time, he had an impression, as if Heavenly Father asked him, “Eric, what has happened in your life since you started reading the Book of Mormon and praying every day?”

Eric thought about how he had made good friends and was doing better in school. Without realizing it, the Book of Mormon had brought light and power into his life.

Then it happened.

“I didn’t hear a voice,” Eric said, “but the Spirit filled my heart as these words came to my mind: ‘Of course, it’s true!’ An overwhelming feeling of peace, joy, and assurance came over me. I knew I had finally found my answer.”2

By way of introduction to the subject of my talk - the power and blessings from prayer - I would like to share with you a recent experience. Last November I received a telephone message that one of our great Utah Provo missionaries and a superb missionary leader urgently wanted to talk with his mission president. I was informed that Aaron Alley would be undergoing major brain surgery in a few days to remove a mass on his brain stem. Reportedly his survival from this complicated surgery was uncertain.

In a few moments I was able to reach Aaron's mother, Linda. She informed me that he was a second-year student at the University of Oklahoma Medical School earning straight A's. She gave me his telephone number, and soon Connie and I were talking with our beloved missionary. We then learned that the immediate surgery was intended to deal with a congenital defect whereby the brain stem extends too far down to the spinal column causing dizziness, restriction in head movements, and potential interruption of blood flow. For the time being, the abnormal brain tissue would be observed and dealt with in later surgery and radiation. The surgeons now needed to correct and realign the tilting brain stem.

As he faced this major surgery, Aaron turned to those nearest to him for counsel, encouragement, and spiritual strength. One of them questioned the intervening value of faith and prayer in his behalf, saying, "If the Lord wants you here, He will keep you here; otherwise He won't. What difference can I make?" Aaron quickly responded, "Am I going to make it, I don't know. But I do know that God will respond to people's faith and answer their prayers. You are not leaving room for the exercise of faith and the power of prayer."

The faith and prayers of those of us close to Aaron coupled with those offered in the temples of the Lord and those of various faiths in churches throughout his relatively small hometown of Woodward, Oklahoma, combined to prolong his life, enabled him to return to his medical school studies, and look unafraid to the future.

In 1881, the Romney family was called to Arizona, a rough frontier at that time, especially with the persecutions against the Latter-day Saints. Shortly after their arrival, a member of the Church, Nathan Cram Tenney, was shot while trying to stop a gunfight between two groups of ruffians.
The Romneys were especially persecuted because Miles was an eloquent and fearless crusader in his newspaper. One afternoon, two ruffians beat Miles senseless, leaving the small children to walk several kilometers for help. At one point, a gang from Saint Johns, Arizona, offered several thousand dollars reward for his capture, dead or alive. At another point, mobsters shot into the house while Catherine hid her children between a couch and the wall.
Eventually Miles went to Salt Lake City to report the situation to Brigham Young, and several more Latter-day Saint families were sent to Saint Johns, Arizona, which somewhat shifted the balance between the Mormons and those who persecuted them.
Still, the persecutions continued against the family, and finally Elder John Taylor of the Quorum of the Twelve advised Miles to go to Mexico. While he made a home for them there, Catherine and her children returned to Saint George, Utah, where they spent the next two years with her family, meeting President Wilford Woodruff when he took refuge from his persecutors in her parents’ home.

The efforts of humanitarian service attracted other good people and as a result, Sister Amarilis Urena and her charity, Fundación Amor, became a critical new partner of their team. It was in 2015 that these groups officially combined their efforts and with Sister Urena facilitating the activities in Puerto Plata, miracles began to happen. With the help of others in the community, their service includes building over 180 homes, buying and improving a school building, providing an education for 160 disadvantaged students, and funding the curriculum and materials needed for nine teachers.
With the school fully functioning, the feeding of many hungry children in a kitchen with inadequate equipment became a challenge. Working through humanitarian missionaries, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints became involved, providing funds to upgrade a single propane stove to a full-size stove/oven and supplying a fridge, freezer and kitchen utensils that would facilitate the school in providing the children a daily meal.
During a celebration with the community, the founders gathered for a brief moment and Sister Amarilis Urena shared her testimony of how the lessons of the restored gospel had allowed them to come together, blessing the community and each other with a glimpse of the Lord’s way of loving all His children. She expressed her love for all assisting with the project and testified of the truthfulness of the gospel. Inspired by the spirit of service, they continue their efforts to bless others.