Gospel Story Finder

I was prepared for those callings by working with many great leaders. One of those was Monte Keller. An officer in the United States Air Force, he was stationed in the Philippines and served as branch president. I was his counselor, and he showed me what it meant to be a Church leader. He truly loved the people and spent a lot of time serving them.
Sometimes we were out late at night visiting the members. When we had work days at the chapel, he always did the hardest work. Brother Keller also showed me how to conduct meetings, organize activities, call speakers for sacrament meeting, and interview and home teach members. He taught me leadership through his example. Throughout my church service, I have tried to serve as he did.

While in an airport several years ago in São Paulo, Brazil, I saw in a bookstore showcase a book titled “The Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ.” I doubted that our decaying and directionless world would accept another testament of Jesus Christ, and I spent the weekend thinking about the book.
Finally, I could no longer endure my curiosity, and I returned to the bookstore to buy it. When I arrived, however, I couldn’t find it. I described the book to the store attendant, but he said he had never seen it. Nor could he find a record of it, even though all books displayed in the showcase were cataloged.
Sometime later while in a pharmacy, I noticed an open book on a counter. As I began to read it, I learned about a man named Korihor who insisted on doubting the power of God and was eventually struck dumb. When I reflected on the words I read, I recognized them as being from God.
During this time I had been looking for divine direction. One day I knelt and fervently prayed asking God to show me the true path that would bring me to Him. A few days later our son became ill, so I returned to the pharmacy. When I was about to leave, three young Americans wearing name tags entered. I immediately felt a warmth in my breast, which prompted me to speak with them.
They told me they were in Brazil to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ. I asked if they could teach me, and we scheduled an appointment.
When I heard about the Prophet Joseph Smith for the first time, I knew my prayer had been answered. Then the missionaries gave me a book. To my astonishment, it was a Book of Mormon—just like the one I had seen in the showcase. I again felt a sweet warmth and became so happy that I was barely able to speak.
The missionaries explained the origin of the book and then asked me to pray and ask God if it was true. I already had an absolute certainty of the divinity of the book, for the Lord had shown it to me—twice. Nevertheless, I examined it in great detail. Upon reading chapter 17 in 3 Nephi, I knew it contained a divine story because it contained the words of Jesus Christ.
The foundation of my testimony is in knowing that the Book of Mormon contains the word of God. It has changed me and continues to change me.

A true story from the USA.
Lucas and Lexi are brother and sister. They like to work and play together.
Lucas is blind. This means he can’t see well. Lexi has a clubfoot. This means her foot is twisted, and it’s hard to walk. Lucas helps Lexi walk when her legs get tired. Lexi reads to Lucas when his eyes get tired. They like to help each other.
Lucas and Lexi like playing on the playground. Lucas helps Lexi if she trips and falls. Lexi helps Lucas if he can’t find the monkey bars.
Lucas and Lexi like playing board games. Lexi reads the rules to Lucas. Lucas helps Lexi figure out her next move.
Lucas and Lexi like music. Lucas likes to play the piano. Lexi likes to sing. Sometimes Lucas plays the piano while Lexi sings.
Lucas and Lexi like helping each other. Lucas sometimes helps Lexi make her bed. Lexi sometimes helps Lucas pick up his toys.
Lucas and Lexi like reading scripture stories. They like learning about Jesus Christ and how He helped others. Jesus loved those He helped.
Lucas loves helping Lexi, and Lexi loves helping Lucas. They love Jesus Christ and want to be like Him. Jesus loves Lucas and Lexi. He loves that they help each other.
Watch a video about this story here!
Illustrations by Natalie Briscoe

This ward is composed of members of many ages, from a variety of countries, all with varying economic circumstances and Church experience. A number of those with the most Church experience are busy graduate-student couples with demanding schedules and young families.

What I saw was a young mother serving as a visiting teaching mentor to newer converts in the ward. While her husband cared for their baby, she enthusiastically modeled loving watchcare to two African sisters. This watchcare involved teaching these sisters not only how to function in a new country but also how to adapt to their new religion.

Through her example she taught these African sisters how the Lord would have us serve each other. The words of the Apostle Paul tenderly describe what I saw in this visiting teaching mentor’s actions toward these new converts: “We were gentle among you, … being affectionately desirous of you, … willing to have imparted unto you, not the gospel of God only, but also our own souls, because ye were dear unto us.” With each visit, the young mentor brought good cheer, a gentle helping hand, and the visiting teaching message.

In time, together the sisters prepared the visiting teaching message to share in other sisters’ homes. Assessing needs, giving on-the-spot service as they went, they became true Relief Society sisters committed to lifting, comforting, and encouraging one another. I doubt I will ever hear the phrase “hearts knit together in unity and in love” that I won’t think of those three happy, loving women demonstrating through their determined service to others what it means “to grow up unto the Lord.”

“Is Franklin cents a type of money?” Rose asked as Grandma handed her a stack of napkins.
Grandma chuckled. “No, frankincense is a very expensive perfume.”
Rose picked up the basket of forks and followed Grandma to the family room. “Then why did the Wise Men give it to baby Jesus?” Rose asked.
“Because it was a very precious gift,” Grandma said.
Rose helped Grandma set the table for the Christmas party. “So, Grandma, what gift would you give Jesus?”
“I don’t know,” Grandma said with a smile. “But I do know we have a house full of hungry people.” Grandma hurried off to finish getting dinner ready.
At Grandma’s Christmas party every year, Rose had fun playing with her cousins and listening to everyone tell stories. Rose ate dinner next to her cousin Beth and her new baby. Beth told Rose how Grandma used to help with the new babies in the hospital’s nursery.
Later, Rose heard Aunt Julie ask her cousin Tim what quilt Grandma had given him when he got married. They told Rose how Grandma spent hours making beautiful quilts for her grandchildren’s wedding presents.
While Rose watched her dad play dominoes, she listened to stories about when Grandma was Relief Society president in her ward. Grandma often took dinner to people who were sick.
Rose sat next to Grandpa while she ate her apple pie. He told her that he and Grandma had gone to the temple every Tuesday for 25 years. They had done temple work for so many people that Grandpa had lost count of them all.
Rose jumped up from the table and ran to find Grandma. Rose patted her hand and said, “I know what gift you give to Jesus.”
“Oh? What is that?” Grandma asked.
Rose threw her arms around Grandma’s neck. “You give the gift of love!”

As I approached my 18th birthday and prepared to enter the mandatory military service required of young men during World War II, I was recommended to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood, but first I needed to telephone my stake president, Paul C. Child, for an interview. He was one who loved and understood the holy scriptures, and it was his intent that all others should similarly love and understand them. Having heard from some of my friends of his rather detailed and searching interviews, I desired minimum exposure of my scriptural knowledge; therefore, when I called him I suggested we meet the following Sunday at a time I knew was just an hour before his sacrament meeting time.
His response: “Oh, Brother Monson, that would not provide us sufficient time to peruse the scriptures.” He then suggested a time three hours before his sacrament meeting, and he instructed me to bring with me my personally marked and referenced set of scriptures.
When I arrived at his home on Sunday, I was greeted warmly, and then the interview began. President Child said, “Brother Monson, you hold the Aaronic Priesthood. Have you ever had angels minister to you?” I replied that I had not. When he asked if I knew I was entitled to such, I again replied that I had not known.
He instructed, “Brother Monson, repeat from memory the 13th section of the Doctrine and Covenants.”
I began, “‘Upon you my fellow servants, in the name of Messiah I confer the Priesthood of Aaron, which holds the keys of the ministering of angels—’”
“Stop,” President Child directed. Then, in a calm, kindly tone, he counseled, “Brother Monson, never forget that as a holder of the Aaronic Priesthood you are entitled to the ministering of angels.”
It was almost as though an angel were in the room that day. I have never forgotten the interview. I yet feel the spirit of that solemn occasion as we together read of the responsibilities, the duties, and the blessings of the Aaronic Priesthood and the Melchizedek Priesthood—blessings which come not only to us but also to our families and to others we will have the privilege to serve.

“He grew up on a farm where one of his main chores was tending the pigs his father raised. He has many ribbons from the state fair that were won by his prize-winning pigs. One time, however, these pigs caused him some embarrassment. While he was at school one day, some of them got out of their pen and his mother was very upset about it. She called the school and had them announce the pigs’ escape over the school’s intercom system. She asked that her son be sent home immediately to find his lost pigs. Needless to say, he wasn’t too happy about everyone in the school hearing about his wayward pigs.”

The best experience of my life was the day I was baptized. My mom taught me that once I was baptized, I would be responsible for all my actions. The day arrived, and my dad and I were both dressed in white. I was nervous, but when I took my dad’s hand to get into the font, I knew everything would be fine. When my dad said the baptism prayer and put me under the water, I felt beautiful things in my heart that are hard to explain. Then I was confirmed and given the gift of the Holy Ghost. I am so happy that I was baptized. Just as Jesus Christ set an example for me, I am setting an example for my little brother. I know Jesus Christ lives and loves us.

The neighborhood in which I grew up was a microcosm of the world, with many varieties of people. They were a close-knit group, and I think we knew them all. I think also we loved them all—that is, except for one man. I must make a confession: I detested that man. I have since repented of that emotion, but as I look back, I can sense again the intensity of my feeling. Why this strong antipathy? Because he whipped his children with strap or stick or whatever came to hand as his vicious anger flared on the slightest provocation.
Perhaps it was because of the home in which I lived, where there was a father who, by some quiet magic, was able to discipline his children without the use of any instrument of punishment, though on occasion they may have deserved it.
I have since discovered that the man I disliked was one of that very substantial body of parents who seem incapable of anything but harshness toward those for whose coming into the world they are responsible. I have also come to realize that this man, who walks in the memories of my childhood, is but an example of uncounted thousands across the world who are known as child abusers. Every social worker, every duty officer in the emergency room of a large hospital, every police officer and judge in a large city can tell you of them. The whole tragic picture is one of beating, kicking, slamming, and even of sexual assault on small children. And akin to these violent child abusers are those vicious men and women who exploit children for pornographic purposes.
I have no disposition to dwell on this ugly picture. I wish to say only that no one who is a professed follower of Christ and no one who is a professed member of this Church can engage in such practices without offending God and repudiating the teachings of His Son. It was Jesus Himself who, while holding before us the example of the purity and innocence of children, declared, “Whoso shall offend one of these little ones … , it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea” (Matthew 18:6). Could there be a stronger denunciation of those who abuse children than these words spoken by the Savior of mankind?
Do you want a spirit of love to grow in the world? Then begin within the walls of your own home. Behold your little ones, and see within them the wonders of God, from whose presence they have recently come.
President Brigham Young (1801–77) once said: “A child loves the smiles of its mother, but hates her frowns. I tell the mothers not to allow the children to indulge in evils, but at the same time to treat them with mildness.”
He further stated, “Bring up your children in the love and fear of the Lord; study their dispositions and their temperaments, and deal with them accordingly, never allowing yourself to correct them in the heat of passion; teach them to love you rather than to fear you.”
Of course, there is need for discipline with families. But discipline with severity, discipline with cruelty, inevitably leads not to correction but rather to resentment and bitterness. It cures nothing and only aggravates the problem. It is self-defeating. The Lord, in setting forth the spirit of governance in His Church, has also set forth the spirit of governance in the home in these great words of revelation:
“No power or influence can or ought to be maintained … , only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned; …
“Reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy;
“That he may know that thy faithfulness is stronger than the cords of death” (D&C 121:41, 43–44).
Behold your little ones, and teach them. I need not remind you that your example will do more than anything else in impressing upon their minds a pattern of life. It is always interesting to meet the children of old friends and to find in another generation the ways of their fathers and mothers.
The story is told that in ancient Rome a group of women were, with vanity, showing their jewels one to another. Among them was Cornelia, the mother of two boys. One of the women said to her, “And where are your jewels?” To which Cornelia responded, pointing to her sons, “These are my jewels.” Under her tutelage and walking after the virtues of her life, they grew to become Gaius and Tiberius Gracchus—the Gracchi, as they were called—two of the most persuasive and effective reformers in Roman history. For as long as they are remembered and spoken of, the mother who reared them after the manner of her own life will be remembered and spoken of with praise also.
May I return again to the words of Brigham Young: “Let it be your constant care that the children that God has so kindly given you are taught in their early youth the importance of the oracles of God, and the beauty of the principles of our holy religion, that when they grow to the years of man and womanhood they may always cherish a tender regard for them and never forsake the truth.”
I recognize that there are parents who, notwithstanding an outpouring of love and a diligent and faithful effort to teach them, see their children grow in a contrary manner and weep while their wayward sons and daughters willfully pursue courses of tragic consequence. For such I have great sympathy, and to them I am wont to quote the words of Ezekiel: “The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son” (Ezekiel 18:20).
But such is the exception rather than the rule. Nor does the exception justify others of us from making every effort in showing forth love, example, and correct precept in the rearing of those for whom God has given us sacred responsibility.
Nor let us ever forget the need to respect these, our little ones. Under the revealed word of the Lord, we know they are children of God as we are children of God, deserving of that respect which comes of knowledge of that eternal principle. In fact, the Lord made it clear that unless we develop in our own lives that purity, that lack of guile, that innocence of evil, we cannot enter into His presence. Declared He, “Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3).
Channing Pollock once wrote these interesting and provocative words: “Contemplating the adolescence through which we scorned the wrong, some of us must wish … that we could be born old, and grow younger and cleaner and ever simpler and more innocent, until at last, with the white souls of little children, we lay us down to eternal sleep.”
Behold your little ones. Pray with them. Pray for them and bless them. The world into which they are moving is a complex and difficult world. They will run into heavy seas of adversity. They will need all the strength and all the faith you can give them while they are yet near you. And they will also need a greater strength which comes of a higher power. They must do more than go along with what they find. They must lift the world, and the only levers they will have are the example of their own lives and the powers of persuasion that will come of their testimonies and their knowledge of the things of God. They will need the help of the Lord. While they are young, pray with them that they may come to know that source of strength which shall then always be available in every hour of need.
I love to hear children pray. I appreciate hearing parents pray for their children. I stand reverently before a father who, in the authority of the holy priesthood, lays his hands upon the head of a son or daughter at a time of serious decision and in the name of the Lord and under the direction of the Holy Spirit gives a father’s blessing.
How much more beautiful would be the world and the society in which we live if every father looked upon his children as the most precious of his assets, if he led them by the power of his example in kindness and love, and if in times of stress he blessed them by the authority of the holy priesthood; and if every mother regarded her children as the jewels of her life, as gifts from the God of heaven, who is their Eternal Father, and brought them up with true affection in the wisdom and admonition of the Lord.
Said Isaiah of old, “All thy children shall be taught of the Lord; and great shall be the peace of thy children” (Isaiah 54:13). To which I add, “Great also shall be the peace and the gladness of their fathers and mothers.”

Two missionary couples recently shouldered much of the responsibility for sending and receiving the microfilm files. Manfred Hechtle, a native of Mannheim, Germany, and his wife, Karin, born in Königsberg, German East Prussia, moved to the United States more than 40 years ago. They returned to Germany as missionaries because “we knew it would be wonderfully rewarding to help people all over Europe discover more about their family history,” explains Sister Hechtle.
The Hechtles also spent quite a bit of their mission time traveling to various family history centers to offer assistance. “When they asked us, we taught the family history center directors and their staffs how to use Church computer programs,” says Elder Hechtle. “These visits also gave us a chance to repair and maintain the microfilm and microfiche equipment.”
The couple also helped present family history seminars.” We piled our equipment into a station wagon and headed out,” says Elder Hechtle. “We then taught members and others interested in learning about the Church’s family history programs.”

When I first joined the Church, my family was fine with it. But my friends cast a lot of doubts. They had researched the Church and believed a lot of false information about it. They called the Church a cult, told me that it was filled with lies and that I was crazy for joining it. But I knew in my heart that this Church is true. I don’t think anything can change that. And when I told my friends that I knew it was true, their comments turned to ridicule.
That night, I prayed for help with my friends. I didn’t want to lose them, but I didn’t want to be the subject of their ridicule any longer. After I said my prayer, I remember getting this distinct impression: “If these people are good friends of yours, then they will stick by you. They won’t mock you.” I followed that impression, and when things didn’t change, I let those friendships go, which was hard, but since then I have found great friends in the Church—friends who will stand by me, no matter what.

Some years ago, a man knocked on my office door late at night and said, “President, may I speak to you? Are we all alone?” I assured him no one else was in the office. We sat across the corner of the desk, and he said, “Four times I have driven over to the stake office and have seen your light on, and four times I have driven back home without coming in. But,” he continued, “last night I was reading in The Miracle of Forgiveness again, and I realized that every major transgression must be confessed. I have come to confess a transgression. I have been on two high councils and have served as a bishop twice, and I believe the Lord called me.”
I agreed, “I’m sure he called you.”
He said, “Forty-two years ago, before my wife and I were married, we committed fornication once, the week prior to our going to the temple. We did not lie to the bishop, who was my wife’s father; he simply talked with us and signed our recommends. We then went to the stake president, and he did not interview us. He signed our recommends, and we went to the temple unworthily. While we were on our honeymoon,” he continued, “we decided to make it up to the Lord. We decided we would pay more than our share of tithing and more than our share of building fund; we would accept every assignment to the welfare farm and do all else we were asked to do. We decided we were not worthy to go to the temple, and we did not go for a year. It has been forty-two years since the transgression, and we have lived as near Christlike lives as we know how. I believe we have been forgiven, but I know that confession is necessary.”
Then he quoted from 2 Nephi 9:41, which states, “Behold, the way for man is narrow, but it lieth in a straight course before him, and the keeper of the gate is the Holy One of Israel; and he employeth no servant there; and there is none other way save it be by the gate; for he cannot be deceived, for the Lord God is his name.”
Then he said, “I would rather confess to you now. I am not a young man, and I do not have a lot of years left. I want to be able to meet my Savior with nothing left undone.”
I listened to his confession. I wept with him, and when he finished the confession, I told him on behalf of the Church that he was forgiven. He need not discuss it, think about it, or be concerned about it anymore. I told him never to mention it to me again, for I would not remember it and had no desire to. To this day, I cannot remember who it was, although I do remember the case.
We got up and walked to the door together. I said, “Where is your wife?”
He said, “She is in the car.”
I asked, “Is she coming in?”
He replied, “No, she can’t even think about it except it almost destroys her.”
I said, “You tell your wife that I would like to visit with her now. Tell her I want to take this off her heart and close it. Tell her I know what it was that was done, and I will close it, and it need not be opened again. Tell her I will make it as easy as possible for her.”
He said, “I’ll tell her, but I don’t think she will come in.”
I answered, “You tell her that if I have to sit here all night, I will not go home until she comes in. I can’t bear the thought of her carrying this on her heart one more day in this life; forty-two years is long enough.”
He said, “Well, I’ll tell her, but I don’t think she’ll come in.”
He left and was gone fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, and forty-five minutes. I was tempted to check the parking lot to see if they had gone home. I resisted; then I heard a timid knock at the door. I went to the door, and there was this sweet woman standing there. Her eyes were wet from crying. She had probably told her husband she couldn’t come in. He had insisted, telling her I would stay there all night. Finally, forty-five minutes later, she was at the door. I took her by both hands and led her across the room. I sat across the corner of the desk, and then I said, “Your husband confessed to a transgression that happened over forty-two years ago of which you were a part. I want to make it easy for you. I know what the transgression is. Every major transgression must be confessed. You tell me, and I will take it off your heart.”
It was like pulling wild horses to get a confession. Finally, about fifteen minutes later, she confessed. I wept; she wept. I told her it was closed and that I wouldn’t remember it and for her to forget it and close it. Then I stood up and put my arm through hers and we walked down the long hallway to the parking lot. When we got just about to the door, I said, “How do you feel?”
She stopped, looked up at me and, with tears in her eyes, and said, “President, I feel clean for the first time in forty-two years.”

Help with temporal tasks is also a form of ministering. At the October 1856 general conference, President Brigham Young announced that handcart pioneers were stranded in deep snow 270–370 miles (435–595 km) away. He called for the Latter-day Saints in Salt Lake City to rescue them and to “attend strictly to those things which we call temporal.”4
Lucy Meserve Smith recorded that the women took off their warm underskirts and stockings right there in the tabernacle and piled them into wagons to send to the freezing pioneers. Then they gathered bedding and clothing for those who would eventually come with few belongings. When the handcart companies arrived, a building in the town was “loaded with provisions for them.”5

Early in Joseph’s marriage, he learned that his success in doing the work of the Lord was directly linked to the harmony that prevailed in his home. While he was working on the translation of the Book of Mormon, Joseph and Emma had “some words,” as every young married couple occasionally does. Joseph went upstairs in the Whitmer home to continue the translation of the Book of Mormon, but he discovered that he could not, for “all was dark.” It wasn’t until Joseph had retired to the woods to pray for forgiveness and then returned to obtain Emma’s forgiveness that the Spirit of the Lord returned so that the translation could continue. (See B. H. Roberts, A Comprehensive History of the Church, 1:130–131.)

“Oh no, not again,” I thought, as I saw the familiar face walking toward me in the hallway of my college dorm. “What this time?”
Angela [names have been changed] had accosted me in the hallway before, and each time I talked to her she left my stomach tied up in knots. I had been investigating The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for a month, and Angela had taken it upon herself to prove that I was making a big mistake.
Angela invited me to her dorm room for a talk, and I accepted warily, knowing from past experience that she would not leave me alone until I’d heard what she had to say.
“How are you feeling about the Mormons at this point?” she asked me, as I sat on her bed, folding my arms defensively.
“Fine. Actually I think what they believe is quite beautiful. I haven’t decided if I believe it yet …”
“Beautiful?” Angela choked on the word, her face turning red. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go on. Not after what I’ve found out about the Mormon religion.”
She handed me a pamphlet filled with lies and twisted truths about the Church. “Read this,” she confided, “and you’ll never want to talk to those missionaries again.”
I read it and the other things well-meaning people gave me to try to show me “the truth” about the Church. I always ended up feeling confused and sick to my stomach. How could I ever know what was right? The missionaries seemed so peaceful about what they believed. Yet Angela was convinced they were wrong. How could I find my own testimony of what was true? And why did there seem to be silence from the heavens when I prayed about my questions?
Ten years later, I sat in an LDS chapel looking at a young woman in my ward. She sat next to me, her hands folded in her lap and tears streaming down her face, asking me the same questions I had asked 10 years before. How could she know for sure if the things she had been taught were true? Why hadn’t she received any spiritual confirmations or found answers to her many questions about the Church?
This young woman had a boyfriend who had been trying to convince her the Church wasn’t true. He had been telling her the same things about the Church that had confused me so long ago.
I decided to write her a letter, telling her about a prophet who faced a similar situation. During the time of Alma the Younger, Korihor, an anti-Christ, came among the Nephites telling them Christ would not come and that their beliefs were false. Eventually, Korihor was brought before Alma, and he told Alma he would believe in God only if Alma showed him a sign. In answer to his request, Korihor was struck dumb, and he finally admitted that he had been deceived and had always known there was a God. (See Alma 30.)
Both Alma and Korihor knew the words of the prophets, but Alma acted on those words and obeyed the commandments. Alma knew that blessings come from following the ways of the Lord. (See Alma 32:21–43.)
Korihor refused to act on the word of the Lord and wanted to see a sign before he would believe and act. Alma believed first, acted upon that belief, and then received a confirmation of the truth.
We can have an unshakable testimony like Alma’s by following his example. Then we can stand before people and testify of the truths of God, and no clever words or temptations will convince us to deny what we know is true.
I believed the missionaries instead of the clever words of those who opposed the Church. Then I acted upon that belief. I was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. When I rose up out of the waters of baptism, a warm feeling of peace enveloped me. I knew the Holy Ghost was telling me that what I was doing was good. I had found the truth. Even though I faced much opposition from my parents and friends, I was able to stand strong because of the testimony I had received from obeying the commandments of God.
When we ask in faith, we will receive answers from the Lord as we experiment upon His words. Testimonies do not come from seeing signs, as Korihor believed. They come from doing and obeying.
Pray regularly and sincerely about your questions.
It may help to write your questions in a journal. When you receive answers, write them down so you can remember and read them often. You will begin to see the hand of God in all things, just as Alma did (see Alma 30:44).
Live the gospel and keep the commandments. Attend your meetings, activities, seminary classes, and service projects. Stay away from things that take away the Spirit.
Regularly study the scriptures and the teachings of latter-day prophets, because you can’t have a testimony of something you don’t know anything about.

A few weeks before leaving to serve a full-time mission, I went to visit the home of an old friend who was not a member of the Church. I intended to stay for just a few minutes, but due to a heavy rainstorm, I had to stay longer than anticipated. So my friend, his mother, and I sat down and began to talk about the Church and my upcoming mission.
I explained that I might be assigned to serve in cities such as Rio de Janeiro, Belo Horizonte, or Brasília.
For some reason, my friend’s mother decided to give me the address of her sister who lived in a town near Rio de Janeiro. She said that I should go and visit her if I were ever sent there.
I left for my mission on July 7, 1982. I served in many different cities, including one near the place my friend’s aunt lived. I thought about visiting her, but her home was not in my area. I didn’t tell the missionaries assigned to that area about her because I was still hoping I would be able to go myself.
At that time, missionaries served for 18 months. The time passed without seeing my friend’s aunt and her family.
Years later, while attending a ward social, I happened to see my nonmember friend. I learned that he had been invited by one of his relatives, an aunt named Etiene who had recently been baptized into the Church. I then found out that Aunt Etiene had just moved into our ward from the state of Rio de Janeiro. I quickly came to love his aunt Etiene, and we loved to talk together about our memories of Rio de Janeiro. To my embarrassment, I learned that she was the same woman I wanted to visit during my mission. She had been baptized only recently, after the unexpected death of her husband.
Fortunately, she has forgiven me for not encouraging other missionaries to visit her. However, she was disappointed over the time she lost while she was not enjoying the blessings of the gospel.

My companion’s shoes had worn out, and as a result of our street contacting, his foot had developed many blisters. One day we had to return to the house early for lunch to change his shoes. When we left our house after lunch that day, I expected that we would walk to an area nearby because of his blistered foot. But instead my companion felt impressed to tract in a distant area.

As we were walking along a riverbank, a woman and several children ran toward us. The woman screamed, “Please help! My child is drowning!” He had fallen into the river, and they were not able to find him because the water was so muddy. We watched the river for a few minutes and finally saw something floating on the water. My companion dived into the dirty water and was able to catch the child and pull him out. The child’s lips had lost their color, he wasn’t breathing, and he appeared dead.

Our attempts to revive him had no effect. When at last the paramedics arrived and tried resuscitating him, the child finally threw up some water and started breathing again. By then many people surrounded us, and when they saw him breathing, they were moved to tears.

This experience was a great lesson for me. The Lord taught me that missionaries do for people’s spirits the same thing my companion had done for this boy physically. It was our calling to save people spiritually.

The concept of being filled with light and truth became particularly important to me because of an experience I had many years ago. I attended a meeting where members of the Young Women general board taught about creating spiritually strong families and homes. To visually demonstrate this, a Young Women leader held up two soda cans. In one hand she held a can that was empty and in the other hand a can that was unopened and full of soda. First, she squeezed the empty can; it began to bend and then collapsed under the pressure. Next, with her other hand, she squeezed the unopened can. It held firm. It didn’t bend or collapse like the empty can—because it was filled.

We likened this demonstration to our individual lives and to our homes and families. When filled with the Spirit and with gospel truth, we have the power to withstand the outside forces of the world that surround and push against us. However, if we are not filled spiritually, we don’t have the inner strength to resist the outside pressures and can collapse when forces push against us.

When she first heard the restored gospel in Chester County, Pennsylvania, where she was born on July 29, 1831, Mary Jane Dilworth knew it to be true. Her family and many of their friends and neighbors also believed the teachings of the elders. All were baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
After the Prophet Joseph Smith was killed, the Dilworths traveled to Illinois to join the Saints preparing to leave Nauvoo and journey west. When the Dilworths arrived, they found that many Church members had already been forced to leave the city. Helped by her three married sisters and their husbands, Mary Jane and her family soon set out across Iowa for Council Bluffs (Winter Quarters) on the Missouri River.
At first, the younger children enjoyed running and playing alongside the wagons as they traveled through the tall grasses, but when the weather changed and they had to stay in their wagons, boredom set in. Fourteen-year-old Mary Jane decided to entertain them by pretending to be their school teacher. She sang with them, told them stories, and taught them spelling and arithmetic. The time seemed to fly. Part of every day from then on was spent “playing school.”
After they arrived at Council Bluffs, Mary Jane found herself appointed nursemaid to about a dozen young children. She did the same thing that had worked so well on the trail. She began amusing them with rhymes and pictures (drawing with charcoal on the tailgates of wagons) to teach them their ABCs. She sang songs, told stories, and played games.
One day Brigham Young paused to listen. He was impressed with her manner and with the attention she received from the children in her care. Months later, when he had led the first pioneer company to the valley and was returning to Winter Quarters for another group, he passed the company Mary Jane was traveling west in. After again observing her teaching the children, he said, “Sister Dilworth, … I have a special mission for you. As soon as you reach the city, I want you to start a school for the younger children. Let any who wish to, attend, and encourage all to do so. And God bless you.”
Two weeks and three days after arriving in Salt Lake Valley, on October 19, 1847, Mary Jane Dilworth, then sixteen years old, welcomed children to the first school in the area that would later be Utah.

I don’t know how many times people had told us to make friends, but one day in Miss Cocks’s third grade class, that was exactly what Aubrey, Shanae, and I did. We actually “made” a friend.
At first our friend didn’t have a lot of personality. She was a little bit flat and colorless because we made her out of sheets of white drawing paper that we taped together and cut out into the rough shape of a girl. Then we drew a face on her, propped her up in a chair, and slid her up to the desk.
Shanae, Aubrey, and I didn’t actually need a friend. We just needed a body, someone or something to take up space so that Miss Cocks wouldn’t assign another someone to sit with us.
All of the desks in the classroom were arranged in groups of four. There was an odd number of students in the room. Two groups had only three students, and Aubrey, Shanae, and I felt lucky to end up together with no one sitting in the fourth desk.
We really didn’t want anybody else joining us. So when Shanae took a note to the office for Miss Cocks and saw a new student, she hurried back to class with the awful news.
“Brittany,” she whispered to me, “there’s a new boy in the office, and I think he’s coming to our room. What if we get stuck with him?”
“A boy will ruin everything,” I muttered.
That’s when Shanae, Aubrey, and I decided to make our friend. We had to work fast, but we had her propped in the empty chair when Mr. Yost, the principal, escorted Jesse to our classroom.
Miss Cocks’s gaze settled first on our group. We all giggled. “Our group is full,” I announced. “We made a friend during art, and she’s sitting right there—see?”
“I didn’t know that you girls could make a friend so quickly,” Miss Cocks said, trying to hold back her own smile. She was sort of used to Aubrey and me, because she was the Primary president in our ward. She shrugged. “I guess Jesse will get to sit by Melissa in the other group.”
After Jesse was properly introduced to the class, Shanae, Aubrey, and I fixed up our friend, carefully using our scissors to give her a better shape. We got out our crayons and colored her face and glued on yellow construction-paper hair. We also painted a dress and shoes on her.
Later, when Miss Cocks started our social studies lesson, she turned to us. “Oh, by the way, Brittany, you girls haven’t had a chance to introduce your friend to the class. After all, she’s new, too.”
She caught all three of us by surprise. At first we just sat there. Then I got an idea. My favorite cousin’s name was Kerstin, so I took a deep breath, stood up, and pointed at our homemade friend. “Class,” I explained, “this is our new friend, Kerstin.”
“Where did she live before she came here?” Miss Cocks wanted to know.
I cleared my throat. “Oh, she lived in a big, dark forest. In fact, I think she was a tree.” I grinned.
Shanae stood up next to me and added, “And we hope all of you will be especially nice to her. She’s not used to being around so many people.”
“She doesn’t talk very much,” Aubrey joined in. “She’s very shy, so if you’d like to tell her something, you’ll have to talk to one of us.”
Most of the guys in the class rolled their eyes and the girls mostly snickered. Miss Cocks raised her eyebrows but only said, “Kerstin, I’m glad that you were able to get out of the big, dark forest. It’s nice to have you in our class. And,” she added solemnly, “I hope some of your quietness will rub off onto your three friends.”
That’s how Kerstin came to be our friend. We might have forgotten all about her, wadded her up, and thrown her into the trash at the end of the day. But as Miss Cocks was passing out our social studies crossword puzzle, she skipped Kerstin. Shanae raised her hand and pointed out, “You didn’t give Kerstin one.” She covered her mouth to hide a grin.
“Does Kerstin know how to do crossword puzzles?” Miss Cocks asked. “Coming from the big, dark forest, she probably doesn’t even know what the states are, and a person has to know the states in order to do this crossword puzzle.”
“Kerstin is a little slow,” Aubrey spoke up.
“But we’ll help her,” I volunteered. “That’s what friends are for.”
Miss Cocks considered a moment, then set a crossword puzzle in front of Kerstin. “Kerstin,” she said slowly, “if you have any questions, just ask one of your three very silly friends.”
Shanae, Aubrey, and I hurried through our own puzzles. As we worked together on Kerstin’s, we carefully explained to her what we were doing and why. The rest of the kids in the class shook their heads and muttered under their breaths.
When it was time for recess, I raised my hand.
“Is it all right if Kerstin stays in during recess? She has a bad cold.”
“That’s why she’s so pale,” Aubrey joined in.
“Besides,” Shanae added, “she doesn’t have a coat.”
“Then I think Kerstin had better stay in,” Miss Cocks agreed. “She can keep me company.”
When we returned from recess, Miss Cocks announced, “Only one person had a hundred percent on the crossword puzzle. Our new student Kerstin got every one of them correct.”
“If she got a hundred,” I protested, “the rest of us had to get a hundred, too.”
Miss Cocks shook her head. “Well, you missed 7-Across, Shanae missed 17-Down, and Aubrey missed 22-Across.” Miss Cocks smiled at Kerstin. “Maybe tomorrow you can help your friends a little with their work. They seem to need it.”
The next day Kerstin was still sitting patiently in her chair, just as we had left her.
During language arts, when Miss Cocks was explaining the difference between singular and plural nouns, Kerstin answered a question and Reggie Burke muttered loudly, “Kerstin’s got to be the ugliest, dumbest looking girl I’ve ever seen.”
“Don’t you ever talk about our friend that way,” Shanae fiercely burst out. “She can’t help the way she is. Maybe if you had grown up in the middle of some trees, you’d look just like she does.”
Aubrey and I nodded and glared at Reggie. Miss Cocks smiled and added, “That’s right, Reggie, we don’t want anyone in our class speaking unkindly about anyone else.”
He sank down in his seat. “It’s only a dumb paper doll.”
After that, a few more boys tried to make fun of Kerstin, but we stood up for her. We even redid her face so that she’d be prettier. We changed her clothes and said nice things to her. When Bobby Rice pointed out how skinny she was, we decided that from then on, we’d take her to lunch with us. We made her a paper jacket and took her out for recess. We even picked out an imaginary birthday for her that was a week away and posted it on Miss Cocks’s “birthday board.”
The day of Kerstin’s birthday, when Mr. Yost announced students’ birthdays over the intercom, he said, “And we have a new student in Miss Cocks’s class who is having a birthday today. Happy birthday, Kerstin!”
Kerstin was one of the most wonderful things that happened to us in third grade. Each day we thought up something new to do with her, and Miss Cocks and the rest of the class played along with us. Kerstin even won the math game. She was voted the best-behaved student in class. Hers was the best art project.
It seemed as though Kerstin had always been with us. So it was a shock one Monday morning to discover that Kerstin was no longer at her desk.
Miss Cocks motioned for us to follow her outside the classroom. “Kerstin moved away,” Miss Cocks said softly. She held up her hands and shook her head when we started to protest. “It happened rather suddenly.”
“You mean we can’t have her in class anymore?” Shanae asked sadly. “We’ll try not to be so silly.”
Miss Cocks shook her head. “It isn’t that. Kerstin wanted me to tell you all how much she appreciated your special kindness these last few weeks.” She looked at Aubrey and me. “Do you remember in Sharing Time yesterday how I talked about treating others the way Jesus Christ would want us to treat them?”
Aubrey and I nodded.
“Well, I thought of you three girls and Kerstin when I was saying those things. I think that you’ve learned that lesson well.”
Miss Cocks was quiet for a moment. “Kerstin wanted to ask a special favor of you three. I think it’s the same favor Jesus would ask if He were here. There’s another girl coming today. She’s a bit shy. She isn’t from a big, dark forest—she’s very real. Unfortunately she doesn’t live with her mother and dad. She lives in a foster home. Life hasn’t been easy for her. More than anything, she needs a safe, kind, loving place to go to school. Kerstin thought that this was the very best place in the world, and she was sure that no one could find three better friends than Shanae, Aubrey, and Brittany. Of course, I agreed.”
For a long time we were all quiet, truly missing Kerstin, but happy about making a new, real friend. It felt good to look forward to new people, rather than try to avoid them.
Aubrey asked, “What’s her name?”
“Brandy. And if you treat her the way you treated Kerstin, she will think that this is the most wonderful place in the world.”
“I guess we’d better get her desk ready. When will she be here?”
“I think that Mr. Yost will be bringing her in a few minutes.”
“If I were a new student,” Aubrey said, “I don’t think I’d want the principal to escort me to class. I’d want my three new best friends to go to the office and get me.”
Miss Cocks smiled. “I think you’re right. I think that Brandy would want that very much.”
That is how Shanae, Aubrey, and I made our second friend in third grade. And as we brought Brandy to our room, helped her with her assignments, took her to lunch, and protected her from the boys’ teasing, I sometimes thought of the One who is a very special Friend of us all.