Gospel Story Finder

There was the group of Relief Society women in Central Java who would each save a spoonful of rice in the morning before they began cooking for the day. They’d put that spoonful, each day, in a plastic bag; then on Saturday they would bring their bags with them to Relief Society. If anyone was ill or had not been attending church for some time, all the sisters would walk together following the meeting to visit her. And they would take some of the rice to share. I’ve learned much about service and consecration from such examples.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles tells this story about allowing others to grow: “I was told once of a young man who for many years was more or less the brunt of every joke in his school. He had some disadvantages, and it was easy for his peers to tease him. Later in his life he moved away. He eventually joined the army and had some successful experiences there in getting an education and generally stepping away from his past. Above all, as many in the military do, he discovered the beauty and majesty of the Church and became active and happy in it.
“Then, after several years, he returned to the town of his youth. Most of his generation had moved on but not all. Apparently, when he returned quite successful and quite reborn, the same old mind-set that had existed before was still there, waiting for his return. To the people in his hometown, he was still just old ‘so-and-so.’ …
“Little by little this man’s Pauline effort to leave that which was behind and grasp the prize that God had laid before him was gradually diminished until he died about the way he had lived in his youth. … Too bad, too sad that he was again to be surrounded by … those who thought his past was more interesting than his future. They managed to rip out of his grasp that for which Christ had grasped him. And he died sad, though through little fault of his own. …
“Let people repent. Let people grow. Believe that people can change and improve.”2

Some years ago, I found an article in a local newspaper so intriguing that I saved it. The front-page headline read, “Determined Dog Won’t Abandon Lost Sheep.”14 This article describes a small number of sheep belonging to an operation not far from my friend’s property that were somehow left behind in their summer range. Two or three months later, they became stranded and snowbound in the mountains. When the sheep were left behind, the sheepdog stayed with them, for it was his duty to look after and protect the sheep. He would not go off watch! There he remained—circling about the lost sheep for months in the cold and snowy weather, serving as a protection against coyotes, mountain lions, or any other predator that would harm the sheep. He stayed there until he was able to lead or herd the sheep back to the safety of the shepherd and the flock. The image captured on the front page of this article allows one to see character in the eyes and demeanor of this sheepdog.

The pony’s brown hair was like a short-bristled brush, heavier and stiffer than Brian had imagined. And now that he was standing next to it, the pony seemed quite tall. Brian had to look up to see her eyes. “You wouldn’t seem so big to the other boys in my class,” said Brian, remembering how small he was compared to them. It was hard sometimes to be the smallest boy in class. The little horse suddenly jerked its head back and pawed the soft dirt. She’s almost as excited as I am, Brian thought.
The booming loudspeaker suddenly broke into Brian’s thoughts. “The next rider will be Jimmy Nelson, coming out of the white gate.” Brian scrambled up the sides of the red gate to watch. Jimmy sat three seats ahead of him in school. He was the biggest boy in the class, a great ballplayer, and had a horse of his own. If anyone can ride one of the wild ponies, it’s Jimmy, Brian decided. None of the other boys had been able to stay on their ponies, and only he and Jimmy still had a chance. He watched his friend settle down on the animal and grasp the wide leather cinch fastened around the horse’s middle like a belt.
Jimmy looked confident as he told the cowboys working in the chute that he was ready. The bell rang and the boy shot out of the gate on the brown and white pony. In an instant the pair were jouncing up and down. The pony kicked, twisted, and turned, trying to throw the rider from its back.
The crowd cheered as Jimmy hung onto his bucking mount. Suddenly the little horse reared back and violently rocked forward. Jimmy sailed straight over the horse’s head just as the buzzer went off. He landed on his shoulders in the soft brown dirt. But before the pickup cowboy arrived to help him, Jimmy was up, shaking his head and kicking the dirt in disgust. The crowd clapped for Jimmy’s good try as he walked across the arena.
Now Brian began to wonder if he should have signed up to ride in the Little Buckaroo Rodeo. He had been around horses before, but he hadn’t had much experience. If Jimmy Nelson can’t ride his horse, how can I ever stay on for eight seconds? Brian asked himself. He knew that all he had going for him was a powerful desire. “I’m going to try and hang on, and I’ll do it!” he declared under his breath.
“OK, son, it’s your turn,” said the big cowboy who was working the red chute. Then smiling at him, the man added, “Just remember to hold on with all your might and lean back as far as you can.”
Brian scrambled up the sides of the metal chute and stood for a second looking down at the pony. “I’m going to do it,” he told the little animal. “You’d better understand that right now.” He climbed over the top rail, kicked his leg out, and settled down on the pony’s back that was so broad Brian’s short legs didn’t come halfway down its sides. As he put his full weight on the pony, it jumped.
Brian slipped his left hand under the leather strap, and jammed his cowboy hat on his head with the other hand. Then he slipped his right hand under the belt and the big cowboy pulled it tight.
The announcer called Brian’s name and the boy leaned back and threw his legs up on the horse’s shoulders. “Let go if you start to fall off,” the cowboy warned him. He smiled and winked at Brian and asked, “Ready?”
“Ready!” shouted Brian as he grasped the strap with all his might and leaned back as far as he could. The bell rang and out jumped the pony. Brian imagined he was sitting still and the world around him was jumping up and down and spinning around. The little horse kicked and bucked as hard as she could, but this rider was not going to lose his hold. Up went the horse and up went the rider. The pony spun and kicked again, but Brian stuck to her like glue. Finally, the pony gave a violent heave and Brian’s cowboy hat went flying into the air. Although he slipped over a little to one side of the horse, the boy hung on with all his might.
After what seemed like an hour of roller coaster riding, he heard the buzzer sound, and then he let go and “bit the dust!” Slowly Brian got up, brushed the dirt from his face and clothes, and looked around, not sure where everything was. The pickup man pointed over to the side of the arena. He handed Brian his hat and said, “That was an awfully nice ride, cowboy; you had a real mean horse.”
Brian could hear the crowd cheer for him as he made his way from the arena. He was still spitting dirt as he looked up into the thousands of faces in the stands to see if he could locate his family. Then he saw them wildly waving their hands at him and smiling. Brian grinned and waved back.
“The winner of the pony bareback-riding event is Brian Johnson,” the announcer called.
The littlest cowboy had won!

Indeed, the Savior can help lift our burdens. One sister describes a time when she had prayed to Heavenly Father night and day, asking him for help with some pressing problems. She eventually came to understand, “the necessity of the Atonement. Without the Savior’s help, I literally could not rid myself of my mistakes and continue to progress.”
She was overwhelmed with a sense of the Savior’s love. “I felt that I had been watched over throughout my entire life and that all that had occurred in the past and all that would occur in the future, whether pleasant or painful, could be for my ultimate good—if I accepted it in faith,” she says. She felt a great rushing warmth and a feeling of peace and contentment.” (Ensign, September 1977, pages 50–51.)

These powerful truths were life-changing for my friend Jen, who as a teenager caused a serious car accident. Though her physical trauma was severe, she felt exquisite pain because the other driver lost her life. “Someone lost their mom, and it was my fault,” she says. Jen, who just days before stood and recited, “We are daughters of our Heavenly Father, who loves us,” now questioned, “How could He love me?”

“The physical suffering passed,” she says, “but I didn’t think I would ever heal from the emotional and spiritual wounds.”

In order to survive, Jen hid her feelings deeply, becoming distant and numb. After a year, when she was finally able to talk about the accident, an inspired counselor invited her to write the phrase “I am a child of God” and say it 10 times daily.

“Writing the words was easy,” she recalls, “but I couldn’t speak them. … That made it real, and I didn’t really believe God wanted me as His child. I would curl up and cry.”

After several months, Jen was finally able to complete the task every day. “I poured out my whole soul,” she says, “pleading with God. … Then I began to believe the words.” This belief allowed the Savior to begin mending her wounded soul. The Book of Mormon brought comfort and courage in His Atonement.

“Christ felt my pains, my sorrows, my guilt,” Jen concludes. “I felt God’s pure love and had never experienced anything so powerful! Knowing I am a child of God is the most powerful knowledge I possess!”

The crisp, unmistakable clopping of horse hooves echoed in the still morning air, and I stopped weeding to listen. “Kirby!” I yelled toward the elm tree. “A horse is coming!” His face appeared amid the budding leaves for a second; then I heard the wild rustling of branches as he scrambled downward.
I sprang to my feet and ran to stand on the flat brown rock. Craning my neck to see around the long-stemmed hollyhocks, I watched the bend in the lane. Soon I saw sunlight shine on silken red hair and glisten on a polished leather bridle. My heart pounded against my chest as I skipped to the middle of the lane to get a closer look.
The horse’s mane was rusty brown, and his eyes shone like lustrous coals. His hooves hardly seemed to touch the ground as it pranced toward me. Then I felt Kirby’s hand on my arm as he jumped up and down excitedly. “Settle down,” I cautioned. “You’ll scare him.”
“Do you think Marilyn will stop and let us pet him, Cathy?”
“I doubt it,” I said as horse and rider drew closer, “but you never know.”
Kirby danced to the side of the lane and fidgeted on the flat brown rock. I kept my eyes on the approaching horse as I moved out of his path. As horse and rider passed, the horse bobbed his head and looked at us out of the corner of his eyes. Marilyn nodded and smiled but did not stop, even though we tagged along until they reached the next bend in the road.
As we walked back home, Kirby scuffed the dust with his worn shoes. “She could have stopped!”
“It certainly wouldn’t have killed her!” I agreed.
When Dad pulled into the driveway at noon, he slowed enough for me to jump onto the running board of the car and ride it to the side of the house. Climbing out of the car, he gave me a quick hug. “Have you been helping your mother this morning?” he asked as we walked hand in hand toward the house.
“I weeded the flowers and thinned the radishes.”
“And Grandma?”
“I’m going to help her stretch curtains this afternoon.”
“Good girl.” He held the screen door open for me, then entered the kitchen and gave Mom and Grandma each a hug and a kiss. Kirby raced in, and Dad picked him up and slung him over his shoulder, laughing.
During lunch, I cleared my throat. “Mom, Dad?” I hesitated, then blurted out, “Marilyn went by on her horse again today. Why can’t I … we have one?”
Mother smiled patiently. “Cathy, your father has explained that we can’t afford—”
“We could keep it in the garage,” I interrupted. “And it could eat grass. Kirby and I would comb it and keep the garage clean, honest!”
Dad wiped his mouth with his napkin and frowned. “Your mother is right, honey. It’s too big an expense and a responsibility. But beyond that, horses are sensitive animals. There’s a lot more to having one than just keeping it in the garage and feeding it.”
After lunch I helped Grandma. The sharp needles of the curtain stretcher pricked my finger, and I rammed it into my mouth and scowled.
“You’ll feel like a pincushion if you’re not careful, child,” Grandma cautioned.
I examined my finger, then attached another loop of curtain. “Did you ever want anything really bad, Grandma?”
“Oh, my, yes!”
“What’d you do when your parents said no?”
“I prayed about it,” Grandma told me, “and I always got an answer—one way or another.”
That night as I said my prayers, I added, “Heavenly Father, I am grateful for all Your blessings. Mom and Dad say we can’t afford a horse, but if there is any way, please make it possible for me to have one. Thank you. In Jesus Christ’s name, amen.”
The next several days were filled with chores, tree climbing, berry picking, and hiking in the woods with Kirby. Each night I repeated my plea for a horse as I tried to wait patiently for an answer.
Then one bright sunny afternoon I heard a welcome sound and looked up to see a horse galloping through the fields toward our place. His mane flowed wildly, and his tail waved proudly. I sprang to my feet and raced through the high weeds to meet it. My prayer was being answered!
“Cathy,” Kirby shouted from behind me, “I brought a rope!”
I grabbed the rope he offered and smiled. “Good thinking,” I said breathlessly. “We’ll lead him to the garage. Mom and Dad will have to let us keep him because they’ll see that Heavenly Father sent him to us.”
When the horse was really close, he suddenly stopped and pawed the ground. His head bobbed up and down, and he snorted loudly. Then, slowly, he moved toward us, stretched his neck toward my trembling hand, and let me stroke his velvet nose. A long strap hung from his bridle, and I clicked my tongue as I slowly grasped the strap and looped the rope through a metal ring. I was filled with joy as he watched trustingly.
“Yahoo! You got him!” Kirby shouted.
Instantly the huge horse shied and raced off, with me still holding the rope. I bumped along the crop-stubbled field for a few yards, then lost my grip and clutched desperately to regain the rope.
“Are you OK?” Kirby hurried over and sank beside me in the dust, his face furrowed with concern as he looked at my skinned knees and rope-burned hands. “I scared him, didn’t I? I’m awfully sorry.”
“It’s OK,” I told him. “For a little while we had a horse, didn’t we?”
Kirby’s face lit up instantly. “Yeah,” he agreed happily.
We watched two men catch the horse and lead him away. He could never have been ours, I thought.
I stopped praying for a horse—not because I no longer wanted one, but because I finally knew what Mom and Dad had known all along. A horse would be too big a responsibility for us—now, anyway. Heavenly Father had known it, too, and He let me find out for myself. I had my answer, and I was content.
Kirby and I still rush to the side of the lane each time we hear a horse coming. And sometimes Marilyn stops and lets us pet her horse or give him a carrot. For now, that’s enough.

The other day I was talking to an enthusiastic returned missionary who had been a member of the Church for only five years, and this is the story he told me, which I found most interesting.
He said he was raised in a good home by fine parents with high ideals; but he had never thought of, let alone been told, many of the things which the Church teaches, such as a prophet of God being on the earth today, of a literal resurrection where the body and soul will be reunited after death and continue on throughout eternity, and particularly of the beautiful and most important concept that he was literally a spirit child of God. He had never been taught of the restoration of the gospel, that there was a living personal God, and that Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world, lives; that he was literally the Son of God in the flesh.
While working at a summer resort where a number of young people were employed, and where all seemed to be having a good time, this boy’s attention was drawn to three young men who seemed to be living apart from the others and not participating in the smoking, drinking of alcoholic beverages, and using drugs, etc. They were living very high standards in every way and seemed to be morally clean.
He said, “I became attracted to them and engaged in conversation with them to find out why they were different. They told me they were Mormons, that they observed a Word of Wisdom, which they explained to me, and that the Lord had said, ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery’ (Ex. 20:14), and that sexual transgression was considered by the Church as one of the most grievous sins.”
He said further, “I became very close to these young men and liked what they taught and the way they lived. They were very free in telling me about the Church. They seemed to be proud of it and were not ashamed of the fact that they were not living as other young men were living. They did point out, however, that some of the young men who were members of the Church and living in the camp were not living the principles of the gospel.”
I thought how sad it was that these other members were not living as they should, had succumbed to temptation, and were not strong enough to stand up for what they knew was right. If they had been converted and not ashamed of the gospel of Christ and its teachings, they too could have been influencing some others for good and changing their lives in preparation for ultimate blessings promised to the faithful.
My friend continued, “One of the three young men was a returned missionary, and as I became more interested, he taught me the gospel as he had taught it in the mission field. I corresponded with my parents and told them what I had found. They were very disappointed and unhappy; but when I returned home and told them all about it, and they saw the good effect all this had on my life and the change in habits, they gave me permission to be baptized, for which I was most thankful.”
He was just 19 when he joined the Church. He went on to say what a great privilege it was when he was given the Aaronic Priesthood and he was able to administer and pass the sacrament in remembrance of the Lord’s crucifixion. He said it made him very humble as he felt the sacredness of this ordinance, and he always tried to be worthy and well-groomed and to act as the Lord would have him do were he standing by his side.
He felt greatly blessed when as a priest he was given the privilege of baptizing new members, realizing that this gave him the same privilege and authority that was given to John the Baptist who baptized the Savior. And as he talked, I wished that every young man could feel and realize just how important that is and what a great privilege it is to be able to perform these ordinances and know that the Lord depends on all of us to live worthy of and magnify the priesthood which we hold.
Then this young man said how pleased he was a year later as he was interviewed to go on a mission to be able to tell his bishop and stake president that he was keeping the Word of Wisdom strictly, keeping the Sabbath day holy, paying his tithes and offerings, and keeping himself morally clean in every way, and that he really honored womanhood and had never treated a girl friend differently from the way he would want a young man to treat his sister. He felt so good about this and was so very glad that he could go into the mission field as an ambassador of the Lord, feeling that the Lord would approve his going as his representative. He told of the glorious feeling he had as he baptized and confirmed his first convert.
These were humbling experiences for him, he said, as was also his being called upon to confer the Melchizedek Priesthood upon a man and ordain him an elder. He realized how important it is that a man be worthy of these privileges to act in the name of the Lord and that the man he ordained was just as much an elder as if the president of the Church had ordained him. He felt most humble and grateful to the Lord.
He concluded by telling me that he was going to be married soon, and his countenance beamed as he expressed his gratitude and happiness that he and his sweetheart were clean and worthy to go to the temple where they could be sealed for time and all eternity.
Then I said to him: “No greater privilege or responsibility can be placed upon any young man than for him to be given the priesthood of God, which is the power of God to act in his name. And now you will enjoy all the added blessings and privileges that will come from being sealed by the holy priesthood in the temple of God.”

We were going to hand out pamphlets to find missionary referrals for our stake youth conference activity. I had been reading For the Strength of Youth. When the activity began, I tossed it back on the table where I had found it. But the thought occurred to me that I should take it with me. So I picked it up and put it in my scriptures.
We were all nervous about talking to strangers about the gospel, but when we stopped to talk to a woman hanging laundry in her yard, she was very friendly and took one of our pamphlets. During the conversation she told us about her concerns for her family. One son in particular was struggling with drugs and other problems. We did our best to console her, then moved on.
A few minutes later I opened my scriptures. When I saw my For the Strength of Youth pamphlet, I remembered what the woman had said about her son and felt like I should go back. I wasn’t nervous anymore.
We found the woman still outside. I told her I had something she might like. I explained about the standards our youth follow and gave her the pamphlet to read with her son. I could tell it made her happy. She called her son outside, and we were able to set up an appointment for both of them with the missionaries.
I felt like a missionary! It was great to have the opportunity to teach and maybe help this young man. I know it was the Holy Ghost who told me to take that pamphlet with me.

We can also access His healing power through prayer. I’ll never forget an experience that Sister Nelson and I had about three decades ago with President Spencer W. Kimball and his beloved Camilla. We were in Hamilton, New Zealand, for a large conference with the Saints. I was not a General Authority at that time. I had been invited to participate in this and similar meetings in other Pacific Islands while serving as general president of the Sunday School. And as a doctor of medicine, I had attended President and Sister Kimball for many years. I knew each of them very well—inside and out.
A Saturday evening cultural program had been prepared for this conference by local youth of the Church. Unfortunately, President and Sister Kimball both became very ill, each with a high fever. After receiving priesthood blessings, they rested at the nearby home of the president of the New Zealand Temple. President Kimball asked his counselor, President N. Eldon Tanner, to preside at the cultural event and to excuse President and Sister Kimball.
Sister Nelson went with President and Sister Tanner and other leaders to the event, while President Kimball’s secretary, Brother D. Arthur Haycock, and I watched over our feverish friends.
While President Kimball was sleeping, I was quietly reading in his room. Suddenly President Kimball was awakened. He asked, “Brother Nelson, what time was this evening’s program to begin?”
“At seven o’clock, President Kimball.”
“What time is it now?”
“It’s almost seven,” I replied.
President Kimball quickly said, “Tell Sister Kimball we are going!”
I checked President Kimball’s temperature. It was normal! I took Sister Kimball’s temperature. It was also normal!
They quickly dressed and got into an automobile. We were driven to the stadium of the Church College of New Zealand. As the car entered the arena, there was a very loud shout that erupted spontaneously. It was most unusual! After we took our seats, I asked Sister Nelson about that sudden sound. She said that when President Tanner began the meeting, he dutifully excused President and Sister Kimball because of illness. Then one of the young New Zealanders was called upon to pray.
With great faith, he gave what Sister Nelson described as a rather lengthy but powerful prayer. He so prayed: “We are 3,000 New Zealand youth. We are assembled here, having prepared for six months to sing and dance for Thy prophet. Wilt Thou heal him and deliver him here!” After the “amen” was pronounced, the car carrying President and Sister Kimball entered the stadium. They were identified immediately, and instantly everyone shouted for joy!
I had witnessed the healing power of the Lord! I had also witnessed revelation as received and responded to by His living prophet!

One Sunday morning, as we were going to church, our son, Steven, who was about 6 years old at the time, noticed that some young people were playing soccer in our street. He said to himself, “I wonder why these people are playing soccer on Sunday while they should be attending church?” It was obvious our son knew that Sunday is a special day when we are required to do certain things, and therefore, we are expected to stay away from other things. Steven knew that Sunday is the day of the Lord and that we must keep it holy.

One evening in June 1978, Billy Johnson returned to his home in Cape Coast, Ghana. He and other members of his congregation had been fasting, as they often did, but the fast had done nothing to lift his spirits. He was tired and discouraged because more believers had stopped worshipping with him and returned to their old churches.
Billy longed to feel spiritually and emotionally strong again. A couple of months earlier, a member of his congregation had told him about a revelation she had had. “Very soon the missionaries will come,” she had said. “I have seen white men coming to our church. They embraced us and joined us in worship.” Another woman announced that she had received a similar revelation. Billy himself had dreamed of some white men entering his chapel and saying, “We are your brothers, and we have come to baptize you.” Afterward, he had dreamed of Black people coming from far and wide to join the Church.
Still, Billy could not shake his discouragement.
It was getting late, but he couldn’t sleep. A strong impression overtook him to listen to the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) on the radio—something he hadn’t done in years.
He found the radio, a brown model with four silver knobs near the base. The radio crackled to life as he turned it on. He fiddled with the knobs, and the red pointer glided back and forth across the dial. But he couldn’t find the broadcast.
Then, after an hour of searching, Billy finally made out a newscast from the BBC. The reporter announced that the President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints had received a revelation. All worthy men in the Church, regardless of race, could now hold the priesthood.
Billy collapsed, bursting into tears of joy. Priesthood authority would finally come to Ghana, bringing all the blessings of the gospel to his people.
Missionaries arrived in Cape Coast later that year, baptizing Billy Johnson and hundreds of other believers. Since that time, the Church has spread rapidly throughout Ghana and neighboring countries in West Africa. The Cape Coast Ghana Temple was announced in October 2023; it will be the third temple in the country.

As I was interviewing the young people in our ward as their bishop. I asked each of them: “Are you going out with anyone who is not a member of our church?”
Susan said, “I go out with Bill. We know each other very well. We’re good friends.”
“Do you know him well enough to invite him to our student ward party?” I asked.
Susan brought Bill to our party and our ward missionaries did the rest. Bill is now in the bishopric in Houston, Texas, after having served a mission for the Church. And Bill and Susan’s experience has been duplicated all over the Church.

I was outside playing with my sisters and brother. It was getting dark, so my mom asked us to go inside, and we did. Then my mom asked me to please close the garage. When I went back out, I saw our bikes and skateboard and a chair outside. I put the toys behind the gate and put the chair away in the garage where my mom wouldn’t hit it with her car. Then I closed the garage. I know that Jesus wants me to do service for my mom.

Some years ago, a client seeking my professional advice described to me the nature of his business, which involved selling secondhand furniture and household goods in partnership with his father. They acquired their stock by attending auctions and market sales and by clearing unwanted items from homes. They were always careful to ensure that they could realize more money in reselling than they had expended in the purchase.
On one occasion, the son had contracted to clear the contents of a home following the death of an elderly occupant. Hanging in one of the rooms was a painting. Pausing to examine it, he considered the possibility that one day he would discover an antique or painting of far greater value than the previous owner had realized. But concluding that this painting was not in that category, he removed it from where it was displayed, carried it to his vehicle, and put it among the other items.
Later, as he and his father were unloading the vehicle, the father picked up the artwork, examined it carefully, and said, “I wish I knew more about paintings and how to tell if they are valuable.” The son responded that he was sure this one would not be classified as such. Nevertheless, the father felt it would be worth having the painting checked by a friend who managed an art gallery.
Several days later, the father’s friend informed him that the painting probably had a value of at least £12,000 (almost U.S. $29,000 in the early 1970s). Excited by the news, the father and son set out for the art gallery to collect the painting. This time they took a blanket in which they carefully wrapped the work of art. The son held it securely in his arms as they returned to the shop. The painting sold at auction for £12,500.
In telling this story, my client concluded by saying, “I can’t imagine why anyone would be prepared to pay so much for such an ordinary painting.”

Following the concert in Prague, Czechoslovakia, a choir member went outside Smetana Hall and walked up to greet a father and mother and their teenager, but they were unable to communicate. Very shortly a young man stepped up to translate. As he talked, he said that the couple were his parents, that he had gone to the United States as an exchange student, had found the Church, and had been baptized. But he said that his parents were very much against his decision and that he had practically forced them to come to the concert that evening. He explained, however, that during the concert, “they come on fire.” “We talked for a few more minutes, then I turned to the parents and said to the English-speaking son, ‘Tell your parents that if they want to be truly happy, they will join the Church. Tell them the gospel is true. Tell them that I love them.’ The Spirit was overpowering! They hugged me. They kissed me. They held my hand. And they said they would see the missionaries.”

Recently a group of highly respected Jewish leaders and rabbis visited Church facilities in the Salt Lake Valley, including Welfare Square, the Humanitarian Center, the Family History Library, and the Oquirrh Mountain Utah Temple open house. At the conclusion of their visit, one of the most eminent rabbis in America expressed his feelings about what he had seen and felt.
He cited concepts from Jewish thinkers rooted in the Talmud and pointed out that there are two very different reasons people engage in acts of kindness and generosity. Some people visit the sick, assist the poor, and serve their fellowmen because they believe it is the right thing to do and others will reciprocate and do the same for them when they are in need. He explained that while this is good, builds caring communities, and should be considered a noble reason, a higher motive is when we serve our fellowmen because that is what we believe God wants us to do.
He stated that as a result of his visit, he believed the Latter-day Saints undertake welfare and humanitarian efforts and the work of salvation in our temples in order to do what we believe God wants us to do.
The Jewish leaders I mentioned earlier were particularly impressed with the principle of fasting and then paying a generous fast offering. They thought it was remarkable that Church members across the world would fast monthly and then make a freewill offering for the benefit of those who are in need.
When the rabbis visited Welfare Square, they were touched to learn that even in difficult economic times, our members, concerned about the challenges experienced by many, continue to donate generously to help the poor and needy.

Excitement thundered through Mariano Palermo’s veins as he and his teammate rowed past the 1,000-meter mark in first place. They were halfway to his dream of winning the 2003 Argentine national rowing championship in men’s pairs and a shot at participating in qualifiers for the 2004 Olympics in Athens, Greece.
They had settled into a great rhythm—their strong strokes catching the water in perfect harmony and propelling them ahead of the competition.
However, a few hundred meters later, Mariano’s excitement chilled when fatigue began to slow his teammate’s pace.
Mariano eyed the second-place boat not far behind. Would the lead they had built up be enough to get them to the finish line first?
Mariano’s twin sister, Lucía, had her own doubles race to concentrate on a little later that day, but she made sure she was there to watch her brother compete. She was thrilled when his team leaped out to such a quick lead. But her heart sank when she saw their pace drop off.
The Palermo twins have always been very close. Being the same age and involved in many of the same activities, they have always spent a lot of time together.
“Mutual, seminary, school,” Lucía lists. “Now that we’re older, it’s a little different, but we still train together.”
The twins, members of the Pacheco Ward, Buenos Aires Argentina Litoral Stake, are also united by other interests. They both enjoy working with their hands—Lucía doing handicrafts or sewing and Mariano working on cars.
“I love to cook,” Lucía adds.
“And I like to eat, so we’re a good team,” laughs Mariano. “I like to cook with her. I’m not very good at it, but it’s fun.”
While the two get along really well—“We can talk about anything,” says Lucía—Mariano says most people don’t realize they’re twins. The two don’t look alike.
“And we don’t know what the other is thinking,” Lucía says, joking about how twins are sometimes portrayed. “But we’re very affected by what happens to the other, whether in school or in competition. We are very united. It’s a beautiful thing.”
When Mariano felt his teammate’s pace slowing, he knew it didn’t matter how strong he felt. If Mariano pulled his oar harder or faster than his teammate did, the unbalanced effort would send the boat off course.
He matched his teammate’s pace and watched as the competitors started gaining on them.
As twins, Mariano and Lucía share many things. Among them is a fierce drive to train hard and give their best individual effort to reach their goals. But in team rowing, individual effort alone won’t get you across the finish line first. The twins have learned that if you aren’t in sync with your teammates, you won’t win.
“The effectiveness of the boat depends on unity,” Mariano says. “We’ve got to be thinking the same, whether it’s a team of two, four, or eight.”
“If we’re not working together—” begins Lucía.
“Precisely,” Mariano interjects.
“—the boat won’t work,” she finishes.
It’s a principle the two understand not only as rowers but as twins and as members of the Church.
“When the team is focused on the same objective, it’s much easier to obtain,” Mariano says. “It’s the same with our family. We have the same goal to be together forever. That helps a ton.”
The two understand that working together is essential not only in rowing but in reaching our ultimate goal to become like Jesus Christ and return to our Heavenly Father’s presence. The Lord said, “Be one; and if ye are not one ye are not mine” (D&C 38:27).
Once we’ve learned that life is not a singles competition but a team event, each of us faces a very important spiritual decision.
As the second-place team pulled alongside Mariano’s boat, it took real discipline for him not to give in to the temptation to row as hard as possible. The finish line was so close. But Mariano knew that rowing at his own pace could be disastrous. At best it would only slow them down; at worst it would send them off course and possibly out of the race.
This choice to follow someone else’s pace rather than our own in order to reach our goal is an important principle when applied to life on earth. We cannot return to our Heavenly Father’s presence on our own (see Romans 3:23).
Fortunately, the Savior was willing to put Himself in our boat through the Atonement (see Alma 7:11–12), providing the way to the finish line, where our Heavenly Father is.
But as in rowing, in order to win the prize we must be willing to give up anything that would keep us from rowing in harmony with the Lord. Atonement means to be reconciled or restored to harmony. Achieving harmony requires being willing to give up all our sins (see Alma 22:18), put off worldly desires, and do the Lord’s will (see Mosiah 3:19).
That’s not always easy, but the Savior knows the “race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1), and He knows exactly what we need in order to return to our Father’s presence.
If we choose not to follow Him, preferring to do things our own way, we are out of sync and in danger of slowing our progress or even putting ourselves out of the race.
In life as well as in athletics, some would rather set their own pace, believing that individuality is the way to true freedom. They choose to row through life alone, not realizing that with Jesus Christ, they could achieve so much more (see Mark 10:27).
In the rowing world, it is well-known that “a team working together can go much faster than an individual,” Lucía explains.
On the standard 2,000-meter course, a good time for a single male rower at his best pace is under seven minutes (the world record is 6:35.40). On a team of eight, however, that same rower, even though he may be matched with slower individual rowers, could go even faster. The world record for a team of eight is 5:19.85.
Just as it would be difficult for a single rower to beat a unified team, without the Savior, we cannot obtain our eternal goals.
Mariano and his teammate refused to give up. But shortly before the finish line, they were passed, leaving them in second place.
Lucía was at the boat ramp when Mariano pulled his boat out after the race. She had her own race coming up to think about, but when she saw his disappointed tears, she broke down herself.
“I knew how hard he had worked,” she says. “I couldn’t bear seeing him so disappointed. I had never seen him like that.”
Together, the twins sorrowed in Mariano’s disappointment. Finally, Lucía’s coach separated them, worried that she wouldn’t be able to focus on her own race. But when the time came, Lucía and her teammate won their pairs race and later the South American championships, earning the right to compete in the 2004 Olympics.
And just as they had shared sorrow in Mariano’s disappointment, they rejoiced together in Lucía’s success.
“I was so excited when she won the opportunity to compete in the Olympics,” Mariano says. “She earned it.”
At the Olympics, Lucía and her teammate ended up ranked 17th. Like Mariano’s results, her finish wasn’t exactly all she had dreamed about. Still, their goals remain high. In the short-term, they want to qualify for an Olympic medal. In the long run, they want to qualify for eternal life.
Both goals will require sacrifice and a willingness to work as one with someone else.
But while the world rewards only one winner (see 1 Corinthians 9:24), no matter how united each team is, the prize the Lord offers can be obtained by all who qualify. Nephi said that “many of us, if not all, may be saved in his kingdom” (2 Nephi 33:12; emphasis added), but we must first “be reconciled unto Christ” (2 Nephi 33:9) by sacrificing our worldly desires in order to follow Him.
The Palermo twins are united in the hope that their faith and sacrifices will be enough to win the one race that matters most of all.

I recently had a nonmember friend who wanted to come to camp with me. As camp got closer, I didn’t really want her to come for fear she might not like it. After I read the article “I Wasn’t Alone” (July 1992), I felt a warm feeling in my heart. So I quickly called my friend and gave her all the camp information. She did go to camp with me, and during the testimony meeting at camp, she whispered to me through her tears that she felt a comforting feeling. I told her it was the Holy Ghost. Thanks so much for this article.
Name WithheldReno, Nevada

President Jack L. Green of the Sterling Park Branch, Virginia, found another problem: his teenagers didn’t have much time for him. A solution? “I make myself available as much as possible to drive them and their friends to a dance or to an activity. That way I’ve got time to be with them and get to know their friends, and to listen to them talking with their friends. Then when I talk to them later, I know who the young people are that they’re talking about.”