Gospel Story Finder

A week or so later BYU lost to Clemson in the NCAA tournament. It was a heartbreaking loss. A few moments later as Devin showered and dressed, I sat watching Lamar play Oregon State. I forgot for a time the pain of the loss and was intensely interested in this new game. Devin came, and we walked to the lobby. Arriving there I said, “Devin, you go ahead and ride home with these people. I’ll go back in and watch the rest of this game.” It was then that he took me by the hand and said, “Pop, don’t go back in there. Come home with me.” I could see a longing look in his eyes as he said, “There are just some times when a guy needs his father.”
We walked out of the arena arm in arm. I’ve never been happier than to be with my son. As we moved farther away from the great basketball arena, we both knew it would be a long time before his legs would again send him high into the air, his wrist flick the ball, and the crowd cheer.
Devin’s winning spirit caused him to know that the people out there away from the crowd needed their Heavenly Father. His goal was to help them find that Father.

Patrick watched the other boys from his ward laugh together as they hiked the trail. He tried not to frown. They were still ignoring him.
Patrick didn’t understand. Normally, he got along with the other kids in the ward. Especially Brett and Tyson. But two days before the trip, Marcus started telling the other boys that they shouldn’t hang out with Patrick any more. That was all it took. Suddenly nobody would talk to him no matter how hard he tried.
This was going to be the worst camping trip ever.
Tall pine trees grew so close together on both sides of the trail that Patrick could barely see the blue sky above. They were way up in the mountains with no houses anywhere. Even better, they were headed to a lake full of fish. But Patrick didn’t care. What was the fun of going camping with kids who didn’t want to be around him?
“Something wrong?” Dad called. “Normally you’re at the head of the pack.”
Patrick turned around. Dad wasn’t far behind. He was walking with the other adults and using his favorite walking stick. Dad had volunteered to come as one of the leaders.
“No,” Patrick said. “I’m fine. I just … want to walk a little slower today. That’s all.”
Dad glanced up the trail at the rest of the boys. Patrick squirmed. Did Dad realize the other kids didn’t want to be around him?
Dad nodded his head slowly. Then he flashed a big smile and took a few quick steps to catch up to Patrick. “Sounds good to me,” Dad said. “Sometimes I like walking a little slower too. Let’s walk together.” Dad reached into his pocket and pulled out a granola bar. “Hey, how about a snack?”
“My favorite!” Patrick said. “Thanks!”
“Any time, buddy. I think I’ll have one too.”
They walked together for a few minutes without talking, each of them munching on a granola bar.
“Look at that!” Dad pointed up in the trees as they rounded the next bend in the trail. “I think it’s an eagle in its nest.”
Patrick stretched his neck to see. “Wow!”
They started talking about eagles. Dad knew so much about nature. Afterward, Dad kept pointing out other cool things along the trail. He even told Patrick a knock-knock joke he hadn’t heard before. Patrick laughed out loud. Then Patrick told Dad some jokes of his own. Dad chuckled every time.
By the time they got to the lake, Patrick was feeling better. But then his shoulders slumped when he saw the other boys run off to the far side of the lake with their fishing poles. They never even looked in his direction. He wanted to cry.
“You know, Patrick,” Dad said in a quiet voice. “I’m glad we’re here together. I sure love spending time with my special friend.”
Patrick turned away from the other boys and faced his dad. Dad reached down and squeezed his shoulder. “You up for a little fishing?”
Suddenly Patrick didn’t mind so much that it was just the two of them on this side of the lake. He grinned. “Yeah! Let’s try that spot over there!”
Before long Patrick and Dad were laughing and having a great time together. They even caught a few fish, but that wasn’t the luckiest part of the day for Patrick. The luckiest part was having such a great dad as his friend.

When Ron married his wife, Melanie, in the Salt Lake Temple on September 4, 1973, they decided to always put the Lord first in their marriage and family. That commitment was tested in 1996. Ron was in the middle of a successful career when he was called to return to New York—this time as president of the New York New York North Mission. Remembering the lesson he had learned as a young man, he immediately quit his job to accept the call.
“You want me to go serve,” he said to Heavenly Father, “then I’ll go serve.”
As a mission president, he remembered another lesson—one he had learned from his professional experience: “People are more important than anything else.”1

When I arrived in my third area in the Philippines Bacolod Mission, the rainy season had already started. I was assigned to a small, lovely city surrounded by farms in northwest Negros, an island in the south.
In December 2014, Typhoon Ruby hit the province. The devastation was not so severe in our area, but the dirt roads became muddy and slippery. Despite the unfavorable weather conditions, we continued to work.
One of our most promising areas was a little community in the outskirts of the city. All of those we taught and the recent converts there were farmers. Because they worked in sugarcane fields during the day, we taught in the afternoon and evening.
To get to the community, we had to walk through muddy fields, wary of dogs, frogs, snakes, and mosquitoes. We always brought flashlights and umbrellas. Church members accompanied us home after dark.
At times, I felt like giving up. I wasn’t sure if I could walk through muddy sugarcane fields every day, so I prayed for help. The answer came: “Buy rain boots!”
My companion and I each bought a pair. I was thrilled to have boots, but my excitement soon faded because they were so heavy and uncomfortable. They made my feet sweat and prevented me from walking fast.
After our lessons one evening, we went home and changed into our regular proselyting shoes. Then we set out for another appointment in the city. As I was walking, I felt light. I was happy to wear my plastic shoes again. I wondered why I suddenly felt grateful for shoes I had worn my whole mission.
The answer came as a thought: “The rain boots made the difference.” Until then, I hadn’t realized how much comfort my plastic shoes had given me.
Suddenly, my mission hardships and challenges flashed through my mind. My plastic shoes had been an everyday, unappreciated friend. While trying to understand my mixed emotions, I felt a voice saying, “You go through trials and difficulties in life so that you can learn how to recognize blessings and be grateful for them.”
I realized that I had to experience hardships so I could appreciate Heavenly Father’s blessings. Through my trials, I recognized my blessings and became grateful for them.

“Personal Progress hasn’t taught me only about the Church,” says 16-year-old Andrea Navas of the Cincuentenario Ward. “It has helped me realize who I am, that we’re daughters of God.”

Secure in that knowledge, these young women are more comfortable trying new things because they aren’t worried about what others will think if they try and fail. Knowing their value in God’s eyes also helps them reach out to others.

That knowledge motivated Andrea to write a thank-you note to a sister missionary serving in her ward who helped teach her to play the piano. It motivated Melissa to spend time at a local care facility for older people, talking with them and doing things for them that they can no longer do for themselves. And it gave Mayka Moreno of the Marcasa Ward the courage to teach a school friend about the plan of salvation.

While I was serving as Area Supervisor in South America, a most unforgettable experience happened in Montevideo, Uruguay. I wanted to change some money because I was living in Brazil at the time, so Brother Carlos Pratt took me to a money exchange house in downtown Montevideo. He introduced me to one of the officials, and the official said they would change $1,000. I did not have $1,000 in cash and had only a check drawn on a bank in Salt Lake City. The exchange house had never done business with me before. In fact, they had never seen me before and could not expect to ever see me again. They had no way to verify if I had $1,000 on deposit in the bank upon which I had drawn the check. But they accepted my check without hesitation—based solely on the fact that I was a Mormon and that they had previously done business with other Mormons. Frankly, I was both grateful and pleased because of their confidence.

When Jonathan K., 17, was helping to plan an upcoming high adventure activity with his Scout troop, he couldn’t get one young man out of his mind: his friend Mitchell F., a young man with spina bifida.
The group had some incredible—but physically challenging—country in mind they wanted to explore. They were planning on hiking through canyons and other wilderness areas around southern Utah.
Jonathan knew the rugged terrain they planned to visit could make it difficult for his friend to participate. However, he and the rest of his troop wanted to do all they could to allow Mitchell to join the adventure. “We wanted him to experience everything too,” Jonathan says.
As a solution, Jonathan used his Eagle Scout project to build a carrying device—the “Mitch Mobile,” as it came to be called—that would allow the young men to literally carry Mitchell throughout the journey.
There was no shortage of volunteers to help with building the Mitch Mobile. Friends and business owners from around town donated supplies to build the carrier and harness. Many people worked long hours to make sure the entire construction was safe, strong, and portable.
Of course, it was only after the carrier was completed that the true service began. After a few short trial runs around town, it was time to take the Mitch Mobile out on its true maiden voyage.
Ultimately, the high adventure outing was a huge success from start to finish. Jonathan and friends were able to carry Mitchell over every stretch of landscape and rough terrain they’d planned to see and explore. All of the young men gladly took turns wearing the harness. “I love taking him with us,” Jonathan says. They have since been on trips to many other backcountry locations.
“We’ve taken him everywhere,” Jonathan says. They’ve traversed slot canyons, cliffs, rivers, sand dunes, and steep hills. “He’s basically like a brother to me.”
As for Mitchell, he’s enjoyed the camaraderie with his friends every step of the way. He’s also enjoyed the amazing terrain they’ve visited together. One of his favorite activities was rappelling. “I’ve loved it,” Mitchell says.

May I comment briefly on one other point in President Hinckley’s talk: He encouraged the students in 1985 to save, protect, and preserve the facilities on this campus. I believe his counsel continues to be heeded by many of you students today. Let me relate a recent experience.

I was walking toward the Wilkinson Student Center last summer. A group of visitors had finished eating lunch, but not all of their garbage had been properly disposed of. A pile of trash was conspicuously in the patio area and needed to be removed. As I reached down to grab an armful of boxes, I noticed a BYU coed next to me picking up the rest of the boxes. She looked at me and said with a smile, “Some of our visitors don’t appreciate what it takes to keep this campus clean.” I think her mother and bishop would be pleased with the kind of student she had become. Her actions showed the gratitude and appreciation she had for the tithing funds allocated to BYU.

As life supplies its store of tribulation we need the consolation that comes with knowing that God is good and that he is near, that he understands, and that he loves us and will help us and strengthen us for the realities of a world where sin and affliction exist. And while I’m talking about principles this morning, I am not really thinking in the abstract, but I’m thinking of many noble souls who have met difficulties with courage, like my mother and many others who had little to rely upon—who had little but ingenuity and will and courage and faith. I’m thinking too of a more recent scene—a beautiful young face whiter than the hospital sheet upon which she lay, her sorrowing parents nearby grieving, as a relentless disease consumed her life. Comfort came to them in the quiet knowledge of the nearness of a Savior who himself had not been spared the most keen and intense suffering, who himself had drunk of the bitter cup.
From this source—from God and Christ—wisdom and strength can be found that will make endurance possible, and relationships generous and helpful, that will lead to abundancy of life and to everlasting life. God will “temper the wind to the shorn lamb,” and help us to endure all things and to continue to maintain integrity in the face of the siren song of invitation to “curse God and die”—die spiritually, die as to things pertaining to righteousness, die to hope and holiness and faith in a future where there is no corruption and no pain.
Christ came that men might have life abundant and life eternal, and he declared that “this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.” (John 17:3.)
And that knowledge, I testify, is the most important treasure one can possess or seek. From Hosea comes the word of the Lord:
“The Lord hath a controversy with the inhabitants of the land, because there is no truth, nor mercy, nor knowledge of God in the land. …
“For I desired mercy, and not sacrifice; and the knowledge of God more than burnt offerings.” (Hosea 4:1; 6:6.)
Soon thereafter the Lord said through Jeremiah:
“Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in his might, let not the rich man glory in his riches:
“But let him that glorieth glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the Lord which exercise loving kindness, judgement, and righteousness, in the earth: for in these things I delight, saith the Lord.” (Jer. 9:23–24.)
All the prophets taught this truth about God, and their prime purpose was not to argue or try to prove the existence of God but to be his witnesses, to testify that he lives and to make his will known among men. Christ revealed the Father in his life and teachings and parables. Through his Son the Father was not only bringing salvation and making eternal life possible for all men, but was offering the ultimate opportunity for men to know God himself.
This, we declare and testify, is a supreme blessing, for to “know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge” and thus to “be filled with all the fulness of God” (Eph. 3:19) is the source of the greatest comfort and consolation in this world, and the greatest motivating power for good. How do we gain this indispensable knowledge? The “works of the Lord, and the mysteries of his kingdom” can only “be understood by the power of the Holy Spirit, which God bestows on those who love him, and purify themselves before him; To whom he grants this privilege of seeing and knowing for themselves.” (D&C 76:114, 117.)
As a guest in the home of a choice young family only a few days ago, I was invited to offer prayer as we knelt together at the day’s beginning. Loving parents, who knew of my experience with little girls’ prayers, suggested that their three-year-old would like to pray first, as she regularly insists on doing. The tenderness of the moment increased as a six-year-old brother undertook to help her when she faltered.
The purity and openness of little children in their relationship with the Lord points the way for all of us. If we would seek the Lord, we must put off the “natural man” and become “as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon [us], even as a child doth submit to his father.” (Mosiah 3:19.)
It is written:
“None shall be found blameless before God, except it be little children, only through repentance and faith on the name of the Lord God Omnipotent.” (Mosiah 3:21.) What, then, is our course?
“Verily, thus saith the Lord: It shall come to pass that every soul who forsaketh his sins and cometh unto me, and calleth on my name, and obeyeth my voice, and keepeth my commandments, shall see my face and know that I am.” (D&C 93:1.)
“They did fast and pray oft, and did wax stronger and stronger in their humility, and firmer and firmer in the faith of Christ, unto the filling their souls with joy and consolation, yea, even to the purifying and the sanctification of their hearts, which sanctification cometh because of their yielding their hearts unto God.” (Hel. 3:35.)
By the revelations of his mind and will through the Holy Spirit, the Lord will give us understanding and knowledge. But we must qualify for the blessing. As we learn to love him, to purify ourselves before him, to yield our hearts to him, and to walk in the light of his Spirit, we can become again like a child and know him. He “waits,” Isaiah wrote, “that he may be gracious” unto us, and is “exalted, that he may have mercy” upon us. The Lord delights to bless us with his love.
We know that the Lord needs instruments of his love. He needs a Simon Peter to teach Cornelius, an Ananias to bless Paul, a humble bishop to counsel his people, a home teacher to go into the homes of the Saints, a father and mother to be parents to their children.
But it is also the privilege of every child of God to seek and know for himself the comforting personal assurance that comes with confidence in the wisdom and character of a beloved Heavenly Father.
There is an example that expresses my meaning well. Some years ago a young lady missionary shared with me some of the circumstances of her call. Her humble father, a farmer, had willingly sacrificed much for the Lord and his kingdom. He was already sustaining two sons on missions when he talked with his daughter one day about her unexpressed desires to be a missionary and explained to her how the Lord had helped him to prepare to help her. He had gone to the fields to talk with the Lord, to tell him that he had no more material possessions to sell or sacrifice or to use as collateral for borrowing. He needed to know how he could help his daughter go on a mission. The Lord, he said, told him to plant onions. He thought he had misunderstood. Onions would not likely grow in this climate, others were not growing onions, he had no experience growing onions. After wrestling with the Lord for a time, he was again told to plant onions. So he borrowed money, purchased seeds, planted and nurtured and prayed. The elements were tempered, the onion crop prospered. He sold the crop, paid his debts to the bank and the government and the Lord, and put the remainder in an account under her name—enough to supply her wants on a mission.
I will not forget the story or the moment or the tears in her eyes or the sound of her voice or the feeling in me as she said, “Brother Hanks, I don’t have any trouble believing in a loving Heavenly Father who knows my needs and will help me according to his wisdom if I am humble enough. I have a father just like that.”
There is, of course, much more to be said. The solutions that we wish and pray for do not always come about. The power that remade Paul, that poured in love and washed out hostility and hate, did not save him from the great travails, from Nero’s dungeon or a martyr’s death. Christ lived in him, he said, he had found the peace of God that passed all comprehension. Nothing, not tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril, sword, death, life, angels, principalities, powers, things present, things to come, height, depth, nor any other creature, could separate him from the love of Christ—the love of God which is in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Christ died on a cross, and won his victory; his disciples and followers also have been subject to the brute forces and foibles of this world, yet through enduring faith they have shared and will share in that victory.
Like Habakkuk of old, we may in our anguish feel that we could bear anything if we could only understand the divine purpose in what is happening. The ancient prophet learned that the righteous live by faith and that faith is not an easy solution to life’s problems. Faith is confidence and trust in the character and purposes of God.
Habakkuk declared:
“Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vine; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls.
“Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.
“The Lord God is my strength, and he will make my feet … to walk upon mine high places.” (Hab. 3:17–19.)
Our religion is “not weight, it is wings.” It can carry us through the dark times, the bitter cup. It will be with us in the fiery furnace and the deep pit. It will accompany us to the hospital room and to the place of bereavement. It can guarantee us the presence of a Captain on the rough voyage. It is, in short, not the path to easy disposition of problems, but the comforting assurance of the eternal light, by which we may see, and the eternal warmth, which we may feel. “The Lord is good: Blessed is the man that trusteth in him.” (Ps. 34:8.) In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Brothers and sisters, we have not seen the last of Joseph Smith. He is not merely a prophet of the past. When Joseph and Hyrum were in Carthage, Elder Parley P. Pratt was traveling on his way home to Nauvoo from a mission. In the very hour their innocent blood was being shed, “a strange and solemn awe” came over Elder Pratt, “as if the powers of hell were let loose.”[83] When he later heard that Joseph and Hyrum had been killed, he cried out in anguish:
O Lord! In the name of Jesus Christ I pray Thee, show me what these things mean, and what I shall say to Thy people [in Nauvoo]? On a sudden the Spirit of God came upon me…and while the spirit of revelation glowed in my bosom with as visible a warmth and gladness as if it were fire. The Spirit said unto me: “Lift up your head and rejoice; for behold! It is well with my servants Joseph and Hyrum. My servant Joseph still holds the keys of my kingdom in this dispensation, and he shall stand in due time on the earth, in the flesh, and fulfill that to which he is appointed.[84]

In 1885, a young woman named Margaret Gordon was living with her family in a tiny village in Ontario, Canada. Her father had moved his family to Canada from England and managed to find a job teaching school in that remote place. Margaret, then 19 years old, corresponded with some LDS cousins in Utah. They sent her a copy of the Book of Mormon. As she read it, she felt a powerful spiritual witness that what she was reading was true. She was sufficiently moved that she began sharing her witness with the other members of her family. Eventually her father, the last hold-out, agreed to move the family to Utah, where they joined the Church. Margaret never faltered in her testimony and spent a lifetime of remarkable service on the frontiers of the western U.S. and Canada, building the Kingdom of God.21
Her testimony of the Gospel, and especially of the Book of Mormon, was irrepressible. As an old woman in her 90s, she hauled two, young great grandsons into her little bedroom where she read the Book of Mormon with them aloud, and explained it, and testified of it, verse by verse, over the course of many weeks. It may have seemed a fool’s errand at times, because the little boys squirmed and laughed at the strange names in the book. But the light of her testimony was strong. It shone brightly on the seedling testimonies of the two boys. My brother and I were changed forever by that experience. To each of us, a testimony of the Book of Mormon is an anchor to our faith.

As a single student bishop, I had the opportunity to help some of my ward members remember their desire to be counted in on the redeeming power of the Atonement. They would come in to see me with what seemed to be a backpack full of burdens resulting from prior sins and transgressions. The burdens they carried weighed down their spirits and correspondingly their studies, their social life, their activity in the Church, their work, and their self-confidence such that they were neither receiving the redeeming power of the Atonement nor the enablingpower of the Atonement. However, through humility, pure repentance, faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, and good old-fashioned hard work, the power of the Atonement healed them, and the Spirit returned. I felt so blessed to be able to witness the miracle of forgiveness in their lives.

Ryan Hughes (10) has a friend who lives in his front yard. He’s not an ordinary friend, of course. He has four legs, a long tail, and he moves so fast that Ryan hasn’t been able to catch him … yet.
He and his family—Dad, Robert; Mom, Leah; Tanya (16); Joshua (14); and Kayla (8)—used to live in Texas, and that’s where Ryan came to know lizards. His favorite spot there was a field where there were scores of them. When the family moved, Ryan was glad to find out that Georgia has a fair amount of lizards also. On a recent TV news program, Ryan learned of a boy who has trained a lizard to jump through hoops. Ryan has big plans for the reptile in his front yard!

After boot camp and medical training, I was assigned to an air force base in Colorado, USA. One day, I received a letter from my oldest brother stationed in the Philippines. He had joined the air force about a year before I did. He told me that he had become a member of the Church, and he wanted me to meet with the missionaries. I immediately recalled the experience in boot camp with the brave airman. My wife and I met with the missionaries, and we were soon baptized.
A few months later, I had the missionaries visit my younger brother. He and his wife were also baptized. My brothers and I now have large families with grandchildren. We all love the Lord and His Church.

In a certain village in China there lived three lazy brothers who were well known for telling strange stories.

One day a rich merchant came to the village. He wanted to hire some men to carry his merchandise to the next village, but there was no one available except the three lazy brothers.

The merchant told the three brothers, “I will give you all of my merchandise if you can tell me stories so strange that I cannot believe them.” Then he added, “But if I can tell you a story so strange that you don’t believe it, you must become my servants.”

The three brothers were delighted at the merchant’s proposal. They thought it would be easy to win his merchandise with their own stories that nobody had ever believed.

The whole village was invited to the unusual story-telling contest, and the village headman was appointed to be chief judge.

The eldest brother told his story first. “When I was young,” he began, “I loved climbing trees. One day I climbed a tree so tall that I could not get down. I called, but no one came to my rescue. At last I jumped down and borrowed a ladder from my neighbor and climbed down from the tree safely.”

The three brothers expected the merchant to say the story could not be true, but he just nodded his head.

The second brother told his story. “One day I was fishing in a river, and for many hours there was not a single bite. I knew something was wrong. So I dove into the river, and to my surprise I found a large fish eating up all the other fishes. I was so angry that I caught the large fish. Then I made a fire under the water and had a delicious meal before coming up to the surface of the river.”

Again the merchant just nodded his head but said nothing.

The third brother began his story. “I was such a good runner that I could outrun any animal in the forest. If I wanted a deer for dinner, I had only to chase one until it was too tired to run anymore. One day I was chasing a fox up a hill when suddenly it ran into a bush and changed itself into a tiger. It turned to attack me, but before it could lift up its paws, I had run home.”

The merchant nodded his head again, which meant he believed all the stories to be true. Turning to the three brothers, he asked, “Do you still promise to be my servants if you don’t believe the story I’m going to tell?”

“Yes, we do,” they replied.

Then the merchant told his story. “I was once a farmer and had a strange tree on my farm. The tree had only a few barren branches but no leaves. One day I noticed that three fruits appeared on the branches. The fruits grew bigger and bigger until each was about the size of a barrel. I cut the fruits open and found a young man in each of them. I made them all work for me on the farm. But one day the young men ran away because they didn’t like the hard work.”

At this point the merchant pointed his finger at the three brothers and said, “I know you are the ones who ran away from my farm. I’m taking you back to the farm today.”

At once the three lazy brothers jumped up and cried, “No, no, we are not from your farm! We don’t believe your story!”

The merchant looked at them and smiled. “Have you forgotten your promise? You don’t believe my story; therefore you shall be my servants.”

The chief judge declared that the merchant had won the contest, and the three lazy brothers became servants of the merchant.

The phone rang and I turned a hopeful ear toward the kitchen, but my hopes died when I heard my 10-year-old brother, Ben, wail, “Mom, it’s for you!”
I sighed. Here it was, Friday night, and I was stuck at home. I had been excited for the weekend—after all I was a cool, important junior in high school. To me that meant dating, driving, and having fun. Yet tonight I wasn’t doing any of these things. My thoughts were interrupted by my brother calling to me.
“What?” I exclaimed, annoyed.
“Sorry,” he said, “I was just wondering if you wanted to go outside and play basketball with me.”
Dejected, Ben slid open the glass door that led outside to our hoop and slowly walked toward it. He looked small and forlorn next to the giant hoop as he began tossing the orange ball without enthusiasm. I wondered what his plans were for the night. I hoped he hadn’t invited a friend over to sleep at our house. Two boys his age under the same roof would definitely be a nuisance, and it looked like I would be around to fully experience whatever was going on.
I sighed and turned my eyes toward the window. I was feeling so depressed. Yet while watching Ben’s lonely figure halfheartedly dribbling back and forth, I had an idea. We didn’t need to just mope around all night. Why couldn’t we take advantage of our free time and have some fun together? After all, I would be leaving for college in a little more than a year, and then I wouldn’t get to see my brother nearly as often.
“Hey, Ben!” I shouted outside. “I’ve got an idea! Are you in the mood to eat some homemade pizza?”
Skeptically, he answered slowly, “Well, who’s going to make it?”
“We are!”
The rest of the night proceeded to be one of the most memorable and enjoyable of all my high school years. We sliced vegetables, tossed dough, and accidentally spilled marinara sauce on our white T-shirts. We worked so hard to get everything just right. We set up the table in front of our living room’s big bay window that overlooks the city, lit long peach candles, and drank lemonade from Mom’s tall glass goblets. We even spread out our best lace tablecloth that we used only for special occasions.
All evening we laughed and joked together. I hadn’t realized how crazy and funny my little brother could be! When I looked past the little annoyances that usually bothered me so much, I saw how cute he was.
I am so glad that my friends—or even some cute guy—didn’t call that night. The memory of my candlelight pizza dinner date with my brother Ben is so much more valuable than an evening of bowling or a movie. That night it was so great to forget my own problems and show my brother that I could spend time with him and have fun doing it.

A revelation to the Prophet Joseph Smith sent groups of Latter-day Saints to Missouri to lay the foundation of Zion. It wasn’t long, however, before mobs confronted them. In scenes from Legacy, families arrive in Missouri (1); soon mobs tar and feather some of the Saints (2), storm the printing office (3), attack the Haun’s Mill settlement (4), and finally force the Saints to leave (5).

James and Drusilla Hendricks came to Missouri in 1836. In 1838, James was paralyzed by a bullet. For the next year, Drusilla nursed him, held off the mobs, and did what she could to keep her family alive.

The day came when they ate the last of their food. Then “the conflict began in my mind,” Drusilla wrote. Recalling her parents’ warning that her husband would be killed, she asked herself, “Are you not sorry you did not listen to them?” Answering her own question, she replied, “No I am not. I did what was right. If I die I am glad I was baptized for the remission of my sins, for I have an answer of a good conscience.” Then she heard a still small voice saying, “‘Hold on, for the Lord will provide.’ I said I would, for I would trust in Him and not grumble.”

James survived, though still an invalid, and the family made it to Utah, united in faith and hope (in Kenneth W. Godfrey and others, Women’s Voices: An Untold History of the Latter-day Saints [1982], 96).

The question and the surroundings took me back to my senior year in high school. I was also a salesclerk, selling men’s clothing part-time.
It was Christmas Eve day. Snow was falling gently, and there seemed to be more shoppers than usual. They were weaving in and out of the displays, picking up last-minute gifts.
A few days earlier, several friends had called me asking, “Could you come to a party on Christmas Eve? We’re planning to meet up the canyon. It will be beautiful. Get a date and be with us.”
I was delighted with the prospect of being with a group of friends and enthusiastically looked forward to that social event. I had asked a lovely young woman to go with me, and she seemed to be as excited as I was.
As the time approached for the store to close and for me to leave for the party, a subtle uneasiness disturbed my positive feelings.
“What’s wrong?” I asked myself. Then reality struck. I did not want to be with my friends on this special night. I wanted to be with my family as I had been for the previous 16 or 17 Christmas Eves. Even though there were still customers shuffling about, I hurried to the telephone and called my friend.
“Don, I, er … well, I don’t know how to say this, but don’t count on me this evening. I’m going to spend Christmas Eve with my family.” I think he understood.
I quickly called my date. We agreed to spend time together during the holidays but not on that particular evening.
Suddenly a burden had been lifted. I had made the right decision.

Lynn Folsom is an excellent example of speaking out in defense of the Church.
In school one day while teaching about Utah, Lynn’s teacher said that Mormons were a cult and worshipped Brigham Young.
Lynn raised her hand and said that the teacher’s statements were not true. Lynn said, “We are not a cult. We believe in Jesus Christ and worship him. I am a Mormon, and I know.”
Lynn’s courage to speak out as the only Mormon in her class set a good example for other member missionaries in her area of the Florida Tallahassee Mission.
Lynn is active in the Starke Ward, Gainesville Florida Stake, where her father is the bishop.

Seventeen-year-old Kathryn Broadribb loves to dance. She finds freedom in the flowing movements of classical and modern ballet, tap, jazz, contemporary, and national dance. Kathryn also finds a different kind of freedom in living the gospel.

Since Kathryn studies at the Northern Ballet School in Manchester, she lives away from her home in Norwich. Living away from home as a teenager might be too much responsibility for some people to take. But, like most other things, Kathryn handles it gracefully.

“The other girls from the ballet school live in a hostel and go pubbing and clubbing,” says Kathryn. “I don’t live close enough to be involved, and my friend Kate and I prefer church dances.”

Following the Word of Wisdom and keeping other commandments, like reading scriptures, helps give Kathryn the physical and mental strength to handle the rigors of her dance training.

“Often the pressure of it all is too much. I’ve wanted to give up a couple of times,” she admits. But it is what she wants and perseverance wins.

“All the pain is worth it when things go well and you pass your exams,” says Kathryn.