Gospel Story Finder

When we are willing to serve, we strive not to complain or murmur, because we do not want to tarnish our service in any way. Complaining may be a sign of wavering commitment, or that our love for the Savior is not as it ought to be. Left unchecked, murmuring can progress to outright rebellion against the Lord. This progression is seen in the life of Ezra Booth, an early convert to the Church in Ohio who was called as a missionary to Missouri.

As he left Ohio in June 1831, Ezra was upset that some missionaries were able to travel by wagon while he had to walk in the summer heat, preaching along the way. He murmured. When he arrived in Missouri, he felt deflated. Missouri was not what he had expected. Instead, he looked around and noted that “the prospect appeared somewhat gloomy.”

Ezra became increasingly cynical, sarcastic, and critical. Upon leaving Missouri, instead of preaching as he went, as he had been asked to do, he returned to Ohio as quickly as he could. His initial murmuring evolved into wavering and finally into losing confidence in his earlier spiritual experiences. Soon Ezra left the Church and “ultimately ‘abandoned Christianity and became an agnostic.’”

Almost as soon as the caravan stopped at the end of the forest road, the doors popped open and Scouts, dads, and a lot of backpacking equipment and fluorescent-orange life jackets came tumbling out of the cars and trucks. In no time at all the Scouts were lined up, drawing their allotment of food to carry, and stuffing it into their packs. Everyone seemed to know his duty and how to perform it. The few dads who were along to help were impressed with the organization. In fact, the only person not surprised by all this super efficiency performed by 12- and 13-year-old boys was their Scoutmaster, Nob Wimmer.
For Brother Wimmer this trip with the American Fork Utah 14th Ward Scouts was only one of hundreds of Scouting outings he has participated in during his 25 years of Scouting experience.
When asked how he got 12- and 13-year-old boys to perform much beyond their years, he commented on his philosophy:
“The age of the boys isn’t that critical. With cooperation you’d be surprised what even young boys can accomplish. There are three elements that do seem to make for a great trip. First, you need to plan well in advance. Second, a trip needs to require effort from everyone. Preferably the work starts a long time before the trip. If it does, the people involved get more excited about the actual event, they learn more, and they improve their teamwork. Then when we have taken care of all the variables that we can control, the third element of a great trip often comes into play. This is the element of surprise—the unexpected or the unusual happening that really makes the event stay alive in people’s minds long after the trip is over.”
To the 35 Scouts and adults who went, the trip was a success. They had been planning for months; each of them knew his duties and how to carry them out. They had also been working very hard to get ready. They learned how to handle canoes. They conditioned themselves to their backpacks, and many of the Scouts invested extra hours in learning to tie fishing flies. They worked one evening a week with Brother Wimmer learning how to do it, and then they tied quantities of flies in anticipation of the trip. In addition, every meal of the five-day camp was carefully planned in advance. Then, a few days before the trip, the food was bought and repacked so it would be easier to carry. They used off-the-shelf grocery items rather than the more expensive dehydrated backpacking foods. They even made their own oven-dried jerky to save on weight and expense.
Once the gear was out of the vehicles and strapped on backs, everyone started up the trail together. The few miles to the lake seemed more like a dozen since each person not only had to carry his own personal gear but also had to take a turn helping to carry one of the canoes.
At the lake, supplies and Scouts were ferried across the water to a lovely campsite. Scouts built simple, plastic-covered shelters under the pines, and had camp completely set up and organized in time to take in an evening’s fishing.
It was easy to get to sleep that first night. David Miller, however, woke up in the middle of the night with a creepy feeling that he wasn’t alone in his bag.
“I thought I felt something in my bag. I lay still for a while, and pretty soon whatever it was began running down my back. I grabbed it between the folds of my sleeping bag, got out of the bag, and woke my father. He helped me brush it out. It was a little squirrel, and it seemed as glad to be out of the bag as I was.”
The next morning Bishop Bean found fresh moose tracks around his sleeping bag, and there were deer tracks all through camp. After that everyone kept watch for the abundant wildlife in the area. Every morning and evening they were able to watch moose saunter down to the lake for a drink and a swim.
“The wildlife provided the unusual and the unexpected on this trip,” said Brother Wimmer. “Each day most of the boys got to see deer and moose in their natural setting. The animals didn’t even seem frightened of us. We didn’t bother them, and they seemed content to let us share their lake for a few days.”
Everyone caught some fish, and even one boy who had been cool on the trip in the first place had a terrific time. He told the leaders when they were planning the trip, “I don’t want to go up in the woods somewhere and play cowboys and Indians.”
““He sure got interested when the fish started biting,” said Bishop Bean. Like the rest of the boys, he had set goals he wanted to accomplish on this trip. Each boy became more proficient at some skill, and they were all better trained to operate as a group than ever before.”
During lunch one day one of the adults was swatting at some of the huge horseflies that seemed to be everywhere. “These horseflies are terrible,” he said.
Brother Wimmer piped up, “Don’t say that! Nothing up here is terrible!”
“Okay, I’ll just say the horseflies are mildly aggravating.”
“Fine,” said Brother Wimmer with a smile, and then let silence complete the sermon. It was a sermon that was relived time and again as the boys later shared the memories of this experience at troop meetings and a special ward banquet in their honor.

I have a dear friend. We grew up together. Although he was intelligent and capable, he was not a good student in school. Family needs and concerns limited his educational opportunities; he did not complete his basic schooling. He was able to buy an old, used truck and he began hauling sand and gravel for a few building contractors. They got work only when the weather was good. The old truck often broke down and needed repairs.
He married a good woman, and although things were hard for them financially, they somehow managed to build their own house.
I was his bishop at that time and called him to be the Aaronic Priesthood adviser. He took his calling seriously. He wore out the handbook, studying it. He had a notebook filled with dates when all the young men in the ward would reach the age to be advanced in the Aaronic Priesthood. He kept good track of the young men and kept the bishopric informed of their activities.
Some years after I was released as bishop, he became a member of the bishopric. He responded to the call faithfully. He later became our bishop and served wonderfully and well.
In the meantime, he and an associate had learned how to lay bricks and had formed a brick-contracting partnership. They both did fine, quality work. Their services were in demand. He prospered and became very respected in the community.
After many successful years as a bishop, he was called to the stake high council and served well and faithfully. Although his formal education was limited, he is now a respected and honored business man. With the advantage of a college education he no doubt would have achieved even more.
What caused him to succeed? Industry? Thrift? Self-reliance? Yes, but there was more. Faithfully and diligently, he sought to know and do the mind and the will of the Lord. He had a simple, untroubled faith.

Sometimes people not only become prisoners to addictive behaviors, but they may also begin to feel like prisoners within a marriage relationship.
A few years ago my wife, Dorothea, and I were walking across the grounds of a temple in a foreign land when we met a very radiant, cheerful, silver-haired sister. Her cheerful, Christlike countenance seemed to set her apart from those around her, and I felt inclined to ask her to explain why she looked so happy and content with life.
“Well,” she said with a smile, “several years ago I was in a hurry to get married, and quite frankly, after a few months I realized I had married the wrong man.” She continued, “He had no interest in the Church as he had initially led me to believe, and he began to treat me very unkindly for several years. One day I reached the point where I felt I could go on no longer in this situation, and so in desperation I knelt down to pray, to ask Heavenly Father if He would approve of my divorcing my husband.
“I had a very remarkable experience,” she said. “After I prayed fervently, the Spirit revealed a number of insights to me of which I had been previously unaware. For the first time in my life, I realized that, just like my husband, I am not perfect either. I began to work on my intolerance and my impatience with his lack of spirituality.
“I began to strive to become more compassionate and loving and understanding. And do you know what happened? As I started to change, my husband started to change. Instead of my nagging him about going to church, he gradually decided to come with me on his own initiative.
“Recently we were sealed in the temple, and now we spend one day each week in the temple together. Oh, he’s still not perfect, but I am so happy that the Lord loves us enough to help us resolve our problems.”

It was impossible to cheer up Aunt Mabel. I’d been with her all day, and she hadn’t even come close to smiling. I handed the mail to her and said, “A magazine and a letter from Cousin Ellen.”
“But no surprise package from anyone,” Aunt Mabel said. “What a bad day.” She set the mail on the table in the dark hall and turned to me. “Shall we go for a little walk, Judy?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said, happy to get out of her gloomy house. When we stepped outside, I smiled up at the blue sky. “What a bright, sunny day,” I said.
Aunt Mabel glared at the sky. “It’s too bright. It makes me squint. Now I’ll get more wrinkles. What a bad day.”
I looked down and saw something shiny on the sidewalk. “Look! A penny,” I said, stooping to pick it up.
“Too bad it’s not a dime or a quarter,” Aunt Mabel said.
We walked to the park and Aunt Mabel sat on a bench under a big, leafy tree. “Isn’t it nice here in the shade?” I asked.
Aunt Mabel shook her head, gazing uneasily at the branches.
“Those leaves are probably full of caterpillars, and one might fall on me. What a bad day.”
I sighed and sat next to Aunt Mabel, but no caterpillars fell from the tree. After a few minutes, Aunt Mabel stood up. “Let’s be on our way,” she said.
We walked beside a garden that was filled with big yellow and orange flowers. “Mmmm,” I said. “Don’t those flowers smell sweet!”
Aunt Mabel rubbed her nose. “Makes my nose twitch,” she said, hurrying past the garden. “What a bad day.”
I slowed down and breathed in the sweet fragrance. My nose wasn’t twitching. I watched Aunt Mabel walk along the path and wondered how I could cheer her up. Skipping along, I caught up with her. “At least the sun’s not in our eyes, now,” I said, watching our shadows stretch before us.
Aunt Mabel buttoned her sweater. “Now the sun is hot on my back, but I’m cold in front. What a bad day.”
“We’re almost home,” I said as we turned the corner and Aunt Mabel’s house came into view. “You have a pretty house.”
Aunt Mabel looked up at her house. “It’s old,” she said. “The floor boards creak and groan.”
We climbed the steps and sat on the porch swing. “Shall I get us some lemonade?” I asked. Aunt Mabel nodded.
I carried two glasses of lemonade out to the porch. I knew what Aunt Mabel would say, and sure enough, after one sip she said it: “This lemonade is too sour. What a bad day.”
I was thirsty and drank mine right down. I thought it tasted pretty good. At last Mom’s car pulled up in front of the house, and I jumped up to leave.
“Did you have a nice visit?” she asked. I just shrugged. I didn’t want to lie and say I’d had a great time.
Aunt Mabel stood up and kissed Mom on the cheek. Then she gave me a hug. I hugged her, too, and she said, “Ouch! Watch out for these old bones!” I backed away.
“Did you have a good day visiting with your niece?” Mom asked her.
I waited for Aunt Mabel to tell Mom what a bad day she’d had.
“I had a very good day,” Aunt Mabel said. “It was nice to have someone to tell my troubles to.”
Mom and I got in the car, and before we drove away, I waved to Aunt Mabel. She waved back, and I was sure she actually smiled at me.
“You certainly cheered Aunt Mabel up,” Mom said.
“Yes,” I said. “What a bad-good day we had.”

Knowing how to organize a service project, plan a youth conference, or work with the service and activities committee isn’t going to be a problem for the youths of the Pleasant Hill Ward, Walnut Creek California Stake. A day-long leadership conference for class presidencies, advisers, and the ward bishopric was held recently beneath beautiful redwood trees in the Oakland Hills.
Stress was placed in four areas: conducting meetings, delegating responsibilities and then following up, working with advisers, and understanding the purpose of the service and activities committee. Those leading the workshops made it clear that they were there to guide and encourage but not to lecture.
After discussing basics, the participants divided into small groups to practice delegating responsibilities for a sample party. They were “criticized” by their group, received a “second chance,” and “phoned” for follow-through experience. In addition, youths and adults practiced agenda writing and planned the calendar of activities for the coming year.
But it wasn’t all work. Following the workshops time was set aside for softball, volleyball, and horseshoes. The day concluded with inspirational talks by ward and stake leaders together with testimonies from those participating in the conference.

It wasn’t long ago that I found myself asking the same question. I wasn’t getting good grades, and I rarely made it to class. High school just wasn’t for me, so I thought.
I soon realized, however, that there weren’t many opportunities for a dropout. The doors were closed, and the key was a diploma. I also knew that one day I wanted a wife and children. Minimum wage was not enough to support a family. It would barely support myself. I knew I had to stick it out.
I know people who did drop out so they could have their freedom. Today, they are still at the same jobs, not making much more than minimum wage. They are just now realizing that even freedom has its price.
David John Romrell, 20Rexburg, Idaho

I was baptized on December 5, 1993, in the city of Minsk. At that time, it was the only city in Belarus with a branch of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I attended worship services there, but I lived in Borisov, 40 miles (70 km) away. I was 17 years old, and there was sharp opposition in my family. But because of the trials I had at that time, my faith and testimony of the truth were strengthened. I was even fortunate enough to go to the temple twice in Freiberg, Germany, to perform baptisms for the dead. I impatiently awaited the time when I could receive my endowment.
In 1996 I began dating my future husband. Igor gladly accepted the news of the Restoration and was baptized on February 23, 1997. On March 1 we were married. Having a strong testimony of temple work, I wanted more than anything to go to the temple as soon as possible.
In September 1997, we moved to St. Petersburg, Russia, where Igor studied at the university. Our daughter Nelly was born there. Even after Igor had been a member for a year and a year had passed since our marriage, we still couldn’t go to the temple because we didn’t have visas and couldn’t get exit papers.
When Nelly was six months old, I became pregnant. It seemed to me we were in a hopeless situation. Igor couldn’t find steady work because he didn’t have a visa. He was holding down three jobs, but it wasn’t enough money for us to live on. Igor’s parents helped by sending money and food from time to time, but I was practically in despair because of our financial struggles. I felt even worse because we couldn’t go to the temple. In August 1998, after the exchange rate rose sharply, we decided to return to Belarus.
Our second daughter, Yelyena, was born in Minsk on January 6, 1999. Igor had a steady job now, but we still didn’t have enough money to go to the temple. Gradually we saved, however, and at the end of August 2000, we took the children to Germany. Igor has relatives in Kaiserslautern, and we stayed with them.
Early on the morning of September 2, we began our journey to the temple in Frankfurt. Although the trip was very tiring and included two transfers, we were full of enthusiasm and joy. We are grateful to all the temple workers, the temple president, and also the sisters who watched our daughters while we went through the endowment session. That was an unforgettable day! It is difficult to put into words the feelings we experienced there, but they were very good.
After the endowment session, we went into the sealing room, where Yelyena was already crying (it was her nap time). I hardly heard any of the sealing ceremony because of the crying, but we were very happy anyway. That was the most wonderful trip of our lives because we were in the house of the Lord.
We even managed to return to the temple. In February 2001 a group of members from Minsk went to Freiberg. I wanted to participate in the ordinance of sealings for the dead, since I had heard so little during our own sealing. I was grateful when Igor and I were invited to participate.
We now have a son, Robert, and as a family we attend the Minsk Second Branch (or, as it is known in Belarus, the Second Religious Community of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Minsk). And while we have overcome several difficulties, we now have new ones. I am very grateful for all of these trials. No matter what happens to us on this journey, Heavenly Father wants only good for us. No one else can help us in our most difficult hour. If we reject Him because of some difficulties, it would be like throwing away a life preserver because it did not keep us from falling into the river.
The burden is easy and the yoke light when we are with the Lord. He will not give us trials we cannot bear.

Karson walked to the back of the classroom to put his book away. There, lying on the carpet in front of the bookcase, was a golden ticket! He picked it up. His heart beat faster when he saw that the name line was blank.
The boys and girls in Karson’s class could earn golden tickets by doing well in their work or by being extra helpful or kind. Once a week his teacher drew a ticket out of a jar and let the winner choose a prize.
Karson couldn’t believe his luck! Today was the golden ticket drawing, and here was another ticket, just for him. He looked around, but no one else was near the ticket. All his classmates were at their desks, laughing and talking with each other.
Karson decided to write his name on the blank line. Then he could put it into the prize jar with the tickets he’d already earned. With so many chances, at least one of his tickets would definitely be picked! Then he could choose the pink stuffed pig for his sister’s birthday present, just like he had been hoping. He smiled and reached for the pencil in his pocket.
Suddenly his fingers stopped. There was a weird feeling in his chest, and it wasn’t his heartbeat. It’s finders keepers, right? he wondered.
He looked out the window and tried to figure it out. He did find the ticket, but he hadn’t earned it. And maybe whoever lost it was looking for it. But he needed this extra ticket for his great plan! He traced his finger over the blank name line and sighed. His plan wouldn’t be so great if he won with a ticket that wasn’t really his.
He remembered what Dad had told him once when he hadn’t wanted to share with his sister. “When you make a good choice, you can feel peaceful inside. You never have to feel bad about your choice later.”
He put the pencil back in his pocket and walked over to his teacher’s desk. Miss Evans smiled. “What can I do for you, Karson?”
“Uh, Miss Evans, I found this ticket on the floor near the bookcase,” he said. “I think somebody lost it. But these are mine,” he said, dropping six tickets into the jar on her desk. He turned around to leave, but Miss Evans called him back.
“Karson, you know what? I’d like you to have another ticket because you were honest and returned this one.”
“Thank you!”
“By the way, what prize would you choose if your name was drawn? The big candy bar? Or maybe the fire truck?”
“The pink stuffed pig!” Karson said right away. “It’s my sister’s birthday next week, and I really want to give it to her. That’s her favorite animal.”
Miss Evans smiled. “Well, I hope you can win it for her.”
Karson sat down at his desk and smiled. He still wanted his name to be picked, but he would be happy even if it wasn’t. Dad had been right. Making the right choice did make him feel great, and maybe, just maybe, he still might win the pink pig.

One day in 2023, Uyanga Altansukh was at work in the northern Mongolian city of Darkhan when the Mongolian mission president entered her workplace. In her words:
““I saw him and thought he had this bright light in his countenance. He was very kind and fun to those around him, and I felt warmth. Before he left, I asked him some questions. A few days later, he came into my work again and asked if I could attend his church. I thought it might be helpful. I was worried for my children’s future, as society seemed to be full of stress and darkness. I wanted my children to be like this man with a light in their countenance, spreading joy to others around them.
“One day the missionaries taught us the law of tithing. My children said with excitement, ‘We must pay our tithing, Mom.’ I could see my children’s faith at that moment. Before I joined the Church, I watched general conference and listened to President Russell M. Nelson speak. He announced new temples all over the world and said that a new temple would be built in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. I rejoiced and shed tears, even though I did not understand why. With this joy, I could tell that my faith and testimony were growing.”
Uyanga, like millions of others, is part of the great gathering of Israel in preparation for the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. She has begun her journey along the covenant path and has become a disciple of Christ. What does it mean to be a disciple of Christ? I appreciate the Japanese word for disciple—deshi—de meaning younger brother, and shi meaning child.
Jesus Christ declared, “I was in the beginning with the Father, and am the Firstborn.” Because of who He is and what He has done, we worship Him, we revere Him, we give glory to Him, and we follow Him. Christ has redeemed us, and we are forever grateful for His infinite and atoning sacrifice.
We have a Heavenly Father, who loves us as His children. His love for us is perfect. Jesus Christ and His mission illustrate God’s love for us. As John wrote, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
In our quest to understand what we do not know, we might sometimes rely on our familiar mortal experiences, or things we do know. For example, we can learn somewhat of God the Father through our own parenthood and mortal family relationships. However, we should be careful in applying these comparisons too far in our attempt to understand our Heavenly Father. The attributes of God the Father transcend any less-than-perfect attributes of a fallen man. God the Father is the perfect Father. He is perfectly loving, kind, patient, and understanding and is perfectly glorious. We can trust Him perfectly. The love of Christ reflects the love of God the Father and is a representation of that love.
Jesus Christ is both the example and the means. In Christ, we can understand better the perfect attributes of the Father and His plan. Through Christ, we are given the enabling power to overcome the tendencies of natural men and women so that we might become more like the Father.
Just like our Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ is perfectly merciful and just. These divine attributes of justice and mercy are not in opposition. They are complementary. Both justice and mercy illustrate God’s perfect love for His children. We can trust God the Father and Jesus Christ because They are just and fair with all of us.
God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, are perfectly aligned in purpose and love. Because God and Jesus Christ love us, we are given the opportunity and privilege as true disciples to make covenants with Them. By our doing so, our relationship with Christ is expanded: “And now, because of the covenant which ye have made ye shall be called the children of Christ, his sons, and his daughters; for behold, this day he hath spiritually begotten you; for ye say that your hearts are changed through faith on his name; therefore, ye are born of him and have become his sons and his daughters.”
As disciples, when we make and keep sacred covenants, we are blessed with spiritual power. We are connected to Christ and God the Father in a special relationship and can experience Their love and joy in a measure reserved for those who have made and kept covenants. Our ability to sense a full measure of God’s love, or to continue in His love, is contingent upon our righteous desires and actions.
In John chapter 15, verse 9, we read, “As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you.” And then we are given an invitation: “Continue ye in my love.”
In the next verse, we are given the way to continue in His love: “If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love; even as I have kept my Father’s commandments, and abide in his love.”
We then see the purpose of keeping the commandments in verse 11: “These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full.”
Through true covenant discipleship, we can begin to understand better the nature of God and the joy that He wants all of His children to experience. We can also begin to understand some principles that at first might seem confusing. For example, how can God have a fulness of joy when some of His children are suffering so much? The answer lies in God’s perfect perspective and in His perfect plan. He sees us from the beginning to our glorious potential future. He has provided a way, through His Son, Jesus Christ, for all of us, His children, to overcome the pains, suffering, sins, guilt, and loneliness of our mortality. God has provided for us the way and the choice.
Examples of those who have experienced joy through discipleship might help us to better understand this concept. Perhaps you have heard the phrase that we are only as happy as our most unhappy child. I have seen that this does not need to be the case. My 94-year-old mother has over 200 living descendants. At any given point, at least one of the 200 is going to be unhappy. If this statement were true, my mother would be in a perpetual state of unhappiness, which she isn’t. Those who know her know how joyful she is.
I now would like to share another experience. In January of 2019, my wife, Debbie, and I were invited into the office of President Nelson. He had positioned a chair close to us, and we sat almost knee to knee. After extending to us our current calling, President Nelson turned to Debbie and focused on her. He was kind, loving, gentle, and full of joy, like the perfect father or grandfather. He held Debbie’s hand and patted it, reassuring her that it would be OK and that our family would be blessed. It seemed to us at that moment that we were the most important people to him and that he had all the time in the world for us. We left his office that Friday afternoon feeling reassured, loved, and joyful.
On Monday we saw the news. During that same day that President Nelson had spent with us, one of his daughters had passed away from cancer. We were stunned. Our hearts were full as we mourned for him and his family. Our hearts were also full of gratitude for his Christlike attention to us while mourning for his daughter who was suffering.
As we pondered this experience, we asked ourselves, “How could he be so kind, loving, and even joyful at such a difficult time?” The answer is because he knows. He knows that Christ has been victorious. He knows he will be with his daughter again and will spend an eternity with her. Joy and eternal perspective come through being bound to the Savior by making and keeping covenants and through Christlike discipleship.
President Nelson has taught: “Just as the Savior offers peace that ‘passeth all understanding’ [Philippians 4:7], He also offers an intensity, depth, and breadth of joy that defy human logic or mortal comprehension. For example, it doesn’t seem possible to feel joy when your child suffers with an incurable illness or when you lose your job or when your spouse betrays you. Yet that is precisely the joy the Savior offers.”
As we make and keep covenants, we will naturally turn outward and have a desire to help others feel the measure of joy and love we feel in our covenantal relationships. We can be part of the greatest cause on the earth today—the gathering of Israel. We can help to bring God’s children to Christ. As the prophet Jacob taught, “And blessed art thou; for because ye have been diligent in laboring with me in my vineyard, and have kept my commandments, and have brought unto me again the natural fruit, … ye shall have joy with me because of the fruit of my vineyard.”
As we bind ourselves to act as covenant disciples, in whatever our level of capacity, our relationship with the Father and the Son is enriched, our joy enhanced, and our eternal perspective expanded. We then are endowed with power and can feel joy in a measure reserved for God’s true covenant disciples. In the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

When I first went to South America as a young missionary, I noticed that the people looked like foreigners. They spoke a strange language; they had a darker skin; their hair was dark; their eyes were dark; and I felt lost among them. I did not understand until later that I was the foreigner. But now after spending many years with those people, when I now go among them, I can no longer distinguish between them and North Americans or Europeans. I feel so much at home with them that I don’t even notice what color their hair is or the tone of their skin or the color of their eyes. I don’t even notice what language they speak.
They’re my brothers and sisters. I extend my full love to them, and they return it to me with ties as close as those that I have experienced in my own family.

A good number of years ago I found myself on a bus. The bus was loaded with young men from all over the country. We were arriving at Castle Air Force Base in California to attend summer camp. We were cadets aspiring to be commissioned second lieutenants in the United States Air Force. As the bus entered the field, we got off and were met by a regular Air Force captain who assembled us in companies on the parade ground. Suitcases, duffel bags, and civilian clothes were everywhere. We were given directions to the barracks and the commissary. We were told to report in dress uniforms at 2:00 that afternoon on the parade grounds. I was assigned to lead the first company away.
It was an interesting summer. We spent much time in the classroom, some on the firing line, and some in the air. Each week there was a rotation of assignments; we all drew our fair share of disagreeable duty, and each week cadet officers were appointed to participate in special leadership training programs and to direct the lives of the rest of us.
As the summer wore on, I became aware that I had not received a leadership assignment. As camp drew to an end and the last duty rosters were posted, I noticed that I had been overlooked as a cadet commander. Knowing that my success or failure in the Air Force depended in part on how well I performed in this capacity, I asked for and received an appointment with the officer in charge of the camp.
At the proper hour, I presented myself at his office. I saluted. When asked what I wanted to discuss, I told him that I had noticed a mistake in the duty roster, and that I had not been given the rotating assignment of cadet commander. Without even looking from his desk the captain told me that he knew that, that he had already decided that I had no future in the Air Force. As I started to protest, he said, “You remember the day that you got off the bus? I asked you to march the men to the barracks. As I watched you, I knew that you did not have what it takes to be an officer in the Air Force. The duty roster stands. You are dismissed.”
A flood of thoughts came to my mind. Years of preparation were suddenly of no avail. The course of my life hung in the balance. I turned to leave. There was a silent prayer in my heart. More of a question than a prayer, really. Did I come this far to fail? I thought. I found myself immobilized in front of the captain’s desk. I struggled for words. My career was important to me. To my surprise, I clicked my heels together, saluted smartly, and without having taken thought of what I should say, I said, “Begging the captain’s pardon, sir, but I was under the impression that we were going to be graded by what we learned while we were here, not by what we knew when we came.”
Now you don’t talk that way to regular Air Force officers. There was no precedent for what I did or said. At the time, I didn’t know from what source came the courage for the words. But I do know that I was at a crossroads. My future activities and associates would be different, depending upon what happened at that moment. My temptations and trials would be different, depending upon what happened at that moment. I would be an enlisted man or an officer, depending on what happened at that moment. The course of my life hung in the balance, as it so often does on little things.
The captain got up from his desk; he nearly bit his cigar in two. He obviously was unaccustomed to that kind of insubordination. He walked around to where I stood. He looked at my shoes, he looked at my uniform, he looked at my double chin as I held myself at strict military attention. For at least five minutes, although it seemed much longer, he circled me time after time. I stood there not knowing what else to do. Finally he said, “I might have been wrong about you. Maybe you do have what it takes to be an officer in this man’s Air Force. We’ll change the duty roster; you can command your company during the last week’s activities. We’ll see what you can do.”

Meagon Doering knows how to get the job done. This 16-year-old Laurel from Rock Island, Tennessee, has organized fundraising efforts for the Hospital Hospitality House in Nashville, raising a total of $2,400. Meagon and her family were grateful to find the HHH when Meagon’s dad, Michael, was hospitalized for nearly three months 90 miles from their house. The house provided a very inexpensive place to stay so that the family could be near Meagon’s dad for long periods of time without having to make the long drive from home. Meagon says this project was her way of saying thanks.

This story happened in the USA.
Raina read the words on the flyer at her school again. Essay Contest: Win a free trip to New York City!
It was a contest for students in many schools in the area. Raina thought of herself in New York City, with towering skyscrapers around her and the Statue of Liberty nearby. She wanted to go!
“You should enter,” Sydney said. “You’re the best writer in our grade!”
Sydney’s words made Raina feel good. She didn’t know a lot about writing essays. But she wanted to try.
After school, Raina sat at her desk. Tap, tap, tap. She tapped her pencil on the paper as she thought about her ideas. Finally, she started writing.
It took a whole week for Raina to finish. But with some help from Mom, she finally felt ready to turn in her essay.
A few weeks passed. Raina was excited to see who won. Maybe soon she’d be heading to New York!
“Over one hundred students entered,” Mr. Wright said from the front of the classroom. “Thanks to all of you who wrote an essay.”
Raina’s heart thumped in excitement.
“Although none of our students won the contest, Raina was in the top five of all entries. Congratulations, Raina,” Mr. Wright said.
Raina smiled while her classmates clapped. But inside she was frowning. Being in the top five wasn’t as good as winning. Her dream of seeing New York was gone.
When Raina got home, she slumped into a chair in the kitchen by her parents. “I lost the contest,” she said. “That’s the last time I’ll ever try anything new again. I’ll only do what I know I’m good at.” She covered her head with her hands.
“I’m sorry you didn’t win. Mom and I are both so proud of you for trying,” Dad said. He sat down next to Raina. “Do you remember when I was out of work a couple of years ago?”
Raina nodded.
“I applied for lots of jobs and wasn’t hired for any of them,” Dad said. “I was feeling pretty discouraged.”
Raina lifted her head. “Really?”
Dad nodded. “But I didn’t give up. After a long time, I found a job that was perfect. But it wouldn’t have happened if I had stopped trying.”
Mom put a comforting hand on Raina’s back. “Do you know how many stories I send to different magazines?” she asked. “And how many are rejected? But I can’t give up if I want to see my work published. Writing is important to me, so I keep trying.”
Raina had always thought her parents were good at everything they did. She never knew that they had been turned down too.
She was still sad, but it did seem silly to never try anything new again. That wasn’t what Heavenly Father wanted for her. Raina decided she wouldn’t give up. She could try more things, even things she didn’t do well right away.
“I think I’ll enter the contest again next year,” Raina said. Losing the contest didn’t have to be the end of her dreams.
Raina went to her desk and picked up her pencil. Writing had been pretty fun. Tap, tap, tap. So what new thing could she write next?

It was a hot day, and Audrey and her mom were driving home from the grocery store. Among the bottles and packages was a special treat that Audrey had picked out: a box of rainbow ice pops. They were Audrey’s favorite kind of ice pop, even if they did make her mouth turn blue and red. She could hardly wait to get home, have a rainbow pop, and play in the sprinklers to cool off.
“Oh dear,” Mom said, slowing down the car. “All the traffic is stopped ahead.”
As they slowly moved forward, Audrey saw several people standing in the road wearing hard hats and bright vests. They were holding up signs to stop the cars. They looked hot and sweaty.
“Roadwork,” Mom said. “I forgot they were doing that today. I guess we won’t be getting home soon. We’ll just have to be patient.”
“Mom, we need to get home soon, or all my rainbow pops will melt,” Audrey said.
“I’m sorry, but if we’re stopped a long time they probably will melt,” Mom said.
“Can I have one now?” Audrey asked.
“You know we have rules against eating in the car,” Mom reminded her. “Especially sticky things. Sorry, honey.”
Audrey frowned. She was sad to think her rainbow pops might be puddles by the time they got home.
Just then they pulled up next to a road worker. “I need you to wait right here, ma’am,” he said to Audrey’s mom. Then he pulled out a rag and wiped his forehead. “Sure is a scorcher,” he said.
Then Audrey got an idea. She reached into a shopping bag, pulled out the box of rainbow pops, and handed it to Mom.
Mom smiled at Audrey. “Great idea,” she said. She handed the box through the car window to the road worker. “Maybe this will help,” she said.
The man grinned. “I’ll have no problem sharing these. Thank you, ma’am.”
Mom pointed to Audrey. “It was my daughter’s idea. I bought them for her.”
The man waved to Audrey. “Thank you, miss. You’ve made our day.”
Audrey grinned back. She was glad the rainbow pops wouldn’t be wasted.
“That was very kind of you, Audrey,” Mom said. “Maybe when we get home we can make some juice pops instead.”
“Maybe,” Audrey said. She didn’t like juice pops as much as rainbow pops, but she was still glad she gave away her rainbow pops.
As they drove past more road workers, Audrey saw some of them holding up their rainbow pops to stop traffic, while others were doing their work with red or blue mouths. Audrey was sure they all looked a little cooler and a little happier, and that made her as happy as Christmas in July.

Samuel loved to watch television with Papá, especially on Saturdays. Papá worked hard all week. But on Saturday, Mamá cooked pastelitos de piña (pastries with pineapple filling) and they all watched TV together.
One Saturday night, they decided to watch a partido de fútbol (soccer game). But the game started late, and it would last for a long time. When the first half was over, the score was 0-0. Samuel wanted to keep watching. But he couldn’t stop yawning.
“Time for bed, Samuelito,” Mamá said gently. “You need to get some sleep so you can stay awake in church tomorrow.”
“But Mamá,” Samuel said, “it’s two of the best teams in Honduras!”
Papá looked at the clock. “All right. You can keep watching. But you need to get up on time tomorrow.”
The game got even more exciting in the second half. Samuel was wide awake now! He and Papá were both cheering. First there was a corner kick. Then the goalie made a great save. One team scored, and then the other. Before Samuel knew it, the game was over. It ended in a 1-1 tie.
The next morning, Samuel was so tired that he didn’t want to get out of bed. But he knew that going to church was important.
During sacrament meeting, Samuel started to fall asleep. His head kept nodding. Mamá poked him to help him stay awake. But he was so tired that he didn’t pay attention to the speakers.
“I think your Saturday is getting in the way of your Sunday,” Papá said.
In Primary, Samuel’s teacher talked about keeping the Sabbath day holy. She asked what the children could do to make Sunday special. Samuel thought for a minute. Then he said, “Go to bed on time on Saturday!”
When they got home after church, Samuel talked to Mamá and Papá. “I had fun watching the game last night,” Samuel said. “But I should have gone to bed earlier. I think we should use part of Saturday to get ready for Sunday.”
“I agree,” Papá said.
Mamá nodded. “Me too.”
The next Saturday, there was another game on TV.
“What should we do tonight?” Papá asked. “The game goes late again.”
“We could watch a movie instead,” Mamá said.
“Or we could go for a walk,” said Samuel.
“Is a walk OK with you?” Papá asked Mamá.
“Of course,” Mamá said. “It’s just nice to be together as a family.”
“And when we come home,” Samuel said, “we can all get a good night’s sleep. Then we’ll be ready for Sunday!”

“When I was a member of the branch in Colonia Suiza, Uruguay, my first calling was as a Primary president when I was 13 years old. I was the president, and I was the teacher also. I remember being set apart and given a manual, and the assignment was to teach to the children the lessons and the gospel. I opened the manual, and I didn’t know what to do, how to teach a lesson. So I prayed. I said, ‘Heavenly Father, I need to teach the lesson to the children next Saturday. Wilt Thou help me?’ And I received the influence of the Spirit, and I learned to teach because the Spirit taught me.”Sister Delia Rochon

In the mid-1970s when the Jiménez family of Cádiz joined the Church, people turned against them. Their little son was dismissed from the nursery school he attended. Clients for their shoemaking and shoe repair business gradually deserted them. They survived in part because they had heeded President Spencer W. Kimball’s (1895–1985) counsel to build up their food storage after hearing him speak at a conference in Europe in 1976. But they struggled.

Things are better now. The Lord has blessed them with new, more reliable clients, Enrique Jiménez says, and they have lived to see the day when neighbors and acquaintances ask how to get whatever it is that makes their family stand out.

The Jiménez family is large by Spanish standards today—eight children. Families of two, sometimes three, children are more common. Costs of supporting a family are high, and the average family has a piso—a two- or three-bedroom flat on one floor of an apartment building. The Jiménez family has two pisos in a building on one of the narrow, winding cobblestone streets in old Cádiz.

In the Jiménez living room, a specially made tabletop is stored out of the way until mealtime, when it fits onto a smaller table so the whole family can sit down to dinner together. Others ask Margarita Jiménez how she and her husband are able to support such a large family; she replies that the Lord blesses them by meeting their needs and helping her to manage well what they have.

Their challenges have not gone away, Enrique says, but the ability to meet them has grown. “The Lord has tried me many times, but He has always made the way for me to pass the test.” Enrique currently serves as first counselor in the bishopric of the Cádiz First Ward, Cádiz Spain Stake, and his wife is a counselor in the Relief Society presidency. Through the years, they have led the way in service; all of their children are active in the Church, and three sons have served missions.

A few months before Cécile’s first visit to Banipur in 1986, a local welfare organization had managed to build a poultry yard with 120 hens, which provided each of the eight hundred ashram children with one egg per week. The eggs were a valuable source of protein in a food diet made up exclusively of rice and roots dug up in the jungle. Unfortunately, by the time Cécile arrived, the hens were dying.
“When I returned to France,” Cécile says, “I decided that if I went back to Banipur, I would build a poultry yard, because it was vital for the children. The conditions there had moved me so deeply that I knew I had to find a way to get back again to help in some real way.”
It took five months for Cécile to recover from paratyphoid. But “as soon as I felt better, I resumed my work and started saving money. But it did not take me long to realize that my personal means would not be sufficient. I prayed and asked Heavenly Father to help me,” she says. “And I felt that I should tell my family, friends, and fellow Church members about my project. At a party at my place, many of them—without previously consulting each other—gave me envelopes containing money for food, for the hens, and for the general welfare of the children. I was deeply moved by their confidence and their love.”
Next, she told her stake president, Daniel Pichot, about her project. “He advised me to write a letter to the members of the stake and tell them about my project in Banipur. Three days later, I received with emotion a check from the stake. It was the proceeds of the stake’s ‘drop of water’ campaign—voluntary contributions that had been collected during a stake fast to help relieve misery in the world. Stake leaders had now decided that the money would be used for the poultry yard.”
The following September, Cécile was back in Banipur. There, she bought 120 laying hens, 120 chickens that would start laying eggs five months later, enough building materials for a poultry yard, enough grain to feed the hens for a year, and thirty laying ducks—whose droppings would feed the fish in a nearby pond. With the rest of the money, she bought enough powdered milk to last the children in the ashram six months.
Cécile had asked French poultry experts for advice on how to manage the poultry yard. Thanks to their help, the Banipur hens now lay hard-shelled eggs, which is unprecedented in the area.
Through this emergency hunger-relief action, Cécile taught principles of self-reliance: “Now the children are responsible for the good care of the poultry yard. They collect and count the eggs; they all have tasks, even the youngest. And they are learning to be responsible for one another—because in an ashram there are only two adults in charge and three handicapped cooks for one hundred children.”

In 1982, the second Christmas after we were married, Cleto and I decided to establish family traditions. Because we were the first members of the Church in our families, our former Christmas celebrations—though they brought us happy memories—lacked genuine compassion and service. Moreover, our first baby, eight-month-old Diego, was reason enough to improve ourselves in this way.
We were quite busy with university studies, household chores, Church callings, and our crash course in first-time parenthood, but we still devoted ourselves to preparing for a special occasion. We used each family home evening in December to make decorations and to come to a better understanding of the symbols and colors we saw everywhere. We also planned on preparing a simple dinner, and we thought up useful and inexpensive gifts. As we undertook a scripture study program, we realized that the true change in our manner of celebrating Christ’s birth would involve choosing a gift for the Savior.
We wondered, “What do you give someone who has heaven and earth at His disposal?” The scriptures provide the answer, declaring that anything we do “unto one of the least of these” (Matthew 25:40) we do unto Him. Because Christmas is a season of friendship and a time of love, we wanted to invite a member of the Church to experience the warmth and sweet spirit we felt in our home. We looked hard to find someone who needed some cheering up and whom helping could be our Christmas present to the Savior.
Each time we invited a ward or stake brother or sister to our home, we were happy to discover that the person was already involved in other activities. But Christmas Eve soon arrived, and we still had not found someone with whom to share our Christmas.
Resigned to our failure, we were getting ready for dinner when the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, I was elated to find a friend we had not seen for some time. Avelar had recently gone through the disappointment of an upsetting separation. He was sad and alone and had felt a strong desire to be with us.
We received Avelar with love, and he told us that he had found the environment he needed to be consoled in the midst of his trials. We told him of our preparations to serve and help someone in need so that he could recognize the Lord knew him and loved him.
For all of us, it was wonderful to realize that the Savior had sent us someone we could not find: our friend Avelar. We realized the overriding importance of relationships among Heavenly Father’s sons and daughters. For that reason, on subsequent Christmases we and our three children always remember that the purpose of the season is to strengthen bonds of unity, love, and friendship.