Gospel Story Finder

The youth of the Tampa Florida Stake had a great idea. They decided that every youth in the stake should have a subscription to the New Era. So they went to stake members asking for contributions to pay for the subscriptions. In return for the contributions, they pledged to finish landscaping the front of the recently completed stake center. The response from stake members was excellent, and the young men and women soon raised enough money to meet their goal. The orders were sent in, and soon every home in the stake in which a youth resided was receiving a copy of the magazine.
One day shortly before a stake conference, the young men and women of the stake showed up at the stake center and went to work landscaping. They put in turf and shrubs and soon had the place looking great. One young nonmember bicycling past thought it looked like so much fun that he stopped and joined in. As a little extra incentive, there were barbecued hot dogs for all the laborers. Because of the industry of the stake youth and the generosity of the stake membership, the stake center looks a lot better, and every youth was exposed to a potentially life-changing influence.
One of the youth to receive the magazine was Heather Duke, 14, of the Tampa Third Ward. “I like it,” she says. “I haven’t found a story yet I don’t like. It’s helped me a lot, and I’d like to keep taking it. I read it every time it comes out. I just sit down before I go to bed and read the whole thing, and my sister reads it with me.
“Before I got my gift subscription, all I knew about the New Era was that it was a Church magazine. I didn’t know it had so many interesting stories in it. I’m getting two other youth magazines, and I read the New Era more than I do those.”
Those who worked on the project received as much pleasure as those who benefited from it. Lisa Mirsky, 16, reported, “I really enjoy doing service projects. So I just started calling around the ward, and I soon had about ten sponsors. Nobody turned me down. The ward was really supportive of us. One of the first people I called said, ‘Put me down for three subscriptions.’ They were really glad to do it.” Lisa found she did not really need a slick sales pitch. “I just went out and said, ‘As a youth service project, we’re hoping you’ll contribute seven dollars for the New Era to go to the home of a youth who doesn’t have it,’ and they said, ‘Sure.’”
As always, the reward of service was happiness. “I was really happy to take part in the project. I knew it was what I was supposed to be doing, and I felt a great satisfaction in doing it. It was something that could make a real difference in people’s lives. I love the New Era myself. Whenever I get it I sit down and read it right away. First I read the Mormonisms, then the Message, and then I go on from there and read the whole thing—every month. I know that it’s helped me. I’m the only member of the Church in my family, so it’s especially welcome.” Giving the New Era has a special meaning for Lisa. “The first year I got the New Era, my best friend gave it to me as a birthday present, and I just renewed my subscription in July.” So a kind favor is passed on. “I loved the project,” she added. “I’d like to do it again.” The landscaping on the chapel also brought great satisfaction and some sincere appreciation. “The Sunday after we had done the service project, everybody said, ‘Oh, it looks so great outside!’ They loved it.”
Debbie Carter, 14, of the Tampa Third Ward, tells the same story. “It was fun. It was no trouble getting people to contribute. I telephoned people, and then I went out and picked up the money they had promised.” How many turned her down? “Nobody. I even called some inactive members, and they thought it was a great idea.”
D. Briane Adams, the stake Young Men president, helped the youth organize and carry out the project. He was thrilled with the response, both on the part of the youth and the membership of the stake. “It may be that this thing will sow seeds that won’t be evident for years. I’ve found that some of the kids come from pretty tough situations, but when given half a chance, they’ll respond in quiet, positive ways. If you were to go out and visit them and ask them to come to church, they think they’ve got an image to uphold, and they would say ‘no way!’ But if they sit down in an idle moment and pick up the New Era because there’s nothing else lying there and read about good positive experiences, they may say, ‘that’s not so bad.’ That was our whole idea. Even if we touch one kid out of the whole stake through this program, it’s well worth the effort. And you never know who’s going to come in the home. It might not be just the kid. The parents may pick it up, or some friends may look at the pictures. I think there will be benefits from this that we won’t ever know about.”
In the meantime, there are some benefits he does know about—increased enthusiasm on the part of the youth of the stake and sincere gratitude from the active youth who had not been able to receive the magazine because of financial or other reasons.
And of course the stake center’s looking better than ever. The results have been exciting. But of course that’s what happens when some great young men and women get a great idea and make it happen.
If you would like to organize a similar project in your stake, your stake executive secretary can help you order the gift subscriptions. You might wish to provide each youth in the project with a pledge sheet something like this one used in the Tampa Florida Stake.
HELP US PUT THE NEW ERA IN THE HOME OF EVERY YOUTH IN THE STAKE.
____________________________________Name of youth obtaining pledge
As a service project, on January 14, the youth of the Tampa Stake will begin landscaping the area between the stake center and Fletcher Road. Your donation (pledge) of $8.00 will provide a one-year subscription to the New Era for a youth who does not now have this excellent publication. We have been counseled by our leaders to take steps to place this publication in the homes of all youth from the ages of 12 to 18 who would not normally receive it. We will also accept pledges for subscriptions to go to new converts as they are baptized in the stake, at $8.00 per subscription. In return for your pledge, we guarantee at least four long hard hours or completion of this phase of landscaping work—whichever comes first.
MAKE YOUR PLEDGE BELOW:
NAME No. of subscriptions TOTAL$

“Let’s not sit by the Wilsons today,” Paul said to his mom as they drove to church.
“Why not?” Mom seemed surprised.
“Because their little boy embarrasses me.”
“You mean cute little Joseph? How does he embarrass you?”
“Haven’t you heard him? He’s so loud, especially during the hymns. He thinks he’s singing, but he’s just making noise.”
Mom smiled. “Ah, yes, I have heard him. I’ll tell you what, you listen very carefully to him today and think about what you hear. And next week, if his singing still bothers you, we’ll sit somewhere else.”
Paul frowned. “That means we’ll have to sit by the Wilsons today.”
“That’s right. But after today the problem should be solved. OK?”
“OK,” Paul sighed.
When they entered the chapel, Paul looked around until he spotted the Wilsons. They were just settling onto a bench. Joseph already had his nose in a hymnbook.
“There’s a seat just in front of them,” Mom pointed out. “Let’s go.”
As Paul sat down, Joseph put down his book and grinned at him. Paul couldn’t help smiling back. Joseph did have a special sparkle in his eyes. If only he weren’t so noisy.
After the bishop’s greeting, it was time for the opening hymn. Paul was still looking for the correct page in the hymnbook when the music began. Joseph began to wail so loudly that Paul could hardly hear the organ playing.
Paul looked at Mom and silently mouthed, “See?”
Mom smiled and mouthed back, “Listen.”
Paul listened. Joseph sang very loudly, but he wasn’t singing what everyone else was singing. When the rest of the congregation paused between verses, Joseph’s voice could still be heard. It just sounded like noise to Paul. Why couldn’t Joseph sing the right words or at least sing at the right times? Paul glanced back at the Wilsons. Joseph held open the hymnbook for his parents. They didn’t seem to notice the awful racket he was making.
After the opening prayer, Mom opened her scriptures and pointed out a verse to Paul. It was in Psalms 66:1–2 and it read, “Make a joyful noise unto God, all ye lands: Sing forth the honour of his name: make his praise glorious.”
“‘Joyful noise’? Was that what Joseph was doing?” Paul wondered.
When it came time to sing the sacrament hymn, Paul was halfway through the song when he realized he couldn’t hear Joseph. Had he fallen asleep? Paul glanced back and saw Joseph sitting between his parents with his arms folded. Joseph’s father held the book for them. Paul tilted his head and listened carefully. Was Joseph making any noise at all? Yes, now he could hear him. He was humming. He wasn’t humming the same song everyone else was singing, but it was a reverent tune. Joseph somehow knew that this was the time for a quiet song. Paul tried to sing with more reverence.
Paul was glad there was another hymn during the meeting. This would give him another opportunity to hear Joseph sing. And sing he did! This was more like a “wake-up” hymn to Joseph. He held the hymnbook high again and sang with gusto. Paul suddenly realized that Joseph probably didn’t sing the words because he wasn’t old enough to read, but he didn’t let that stop him. Paul wondered if he would be so brave if he couldn’t read the words in the hymnbook. Would he be able to sing with as much enthusiasm as Joseph?
After that hymn, Paul’s mother showed him another scripture: “For my soul delighteth in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads” (D&C 25:12). Paul nodded. Joseph’s singing certainly was from his heart.
Paul made one more discovery during the closing hymn. Joseph wasn’t just making noise or making up words, he was actually singing the words to a song. Paul listened carefully and heard “I Am a Child of God.” Of course, everyone else was singing something else. When the congregation began singing the last verse, Joseph launched into “Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam.” Paul smiled to himself. This was Joseph’s time to sing, too. And he was singing every song he could think of, with all his might.
When the last notes on the organ faded away, Joseph’s voice could be clearly heard as he ended his song with “I’ll be a sunbeam for Him.” Many people chuckled. Paul heard Joseph’s mom whisper to Joseph, “Prayer time.” There was a rustle as Joseph shifted in his seat and folded his arms.
When the prayer was over, Paul’s mom looked at Paul and raised her eyebrows. “Well?” she asked. “Is there still a problem?”
Paul shook his head. He turned to the Wilsons. “Hey, Joseph,” Paul said, “can I walk you to Primary? I bet they love you in singing time.”
Joseph grinned and nodded as he took Paul’s hand. As they walked down the aisle, Paul started quietly humming a Primary song that had just come to his mind, “A song is a wonderful kind of thing, so lift up your voice and sing. …”

SISTER RENLUND: You mean how she submitted Lena Sofia’s name for temple work?
ASHLEY: I love that story. Shortly after Lena Sofia died in 1966, Grandma Mariana took her name in person to the Genealogy Department.3 The man behind the counter told her that Church policy stated that someone had to have been dead for at least a year before temple work could be done for that person. Grandma Mariana replied, “I don’t like that answer. Let me talk to someone who can give a different one. She’s waited long enough.”
Grandpa Åke said that he tried to reason with her, but she gave him a look he knew very well—that another word on the subject would be pointless. Grandpa wrote in his journal: “I probably should feel sorry for the man downtown who said that nothing could be done for at least a year. That man just didn’t know what he was up against. I could have told him, but he didn’t ask.”4
ELDER RENLUND: Less than two months later, with the authorization of the President of the Church, Lena Sofia’s and Leander’s temple work was completed. Grandma Mariana and Grandpa Åke acted as proxies for Lena Sofia and Leander, who were sealed for time and all eternity in the Salt Lake Temple. And did you know that now it is Church policy that a person who has not been able to enjoy the blessings of the temple because of distance doesn’t have to wait a whole year? That way, others like Lena Sofia can receive those blessings as quickly as possible. As Grandma Mariana told the man in the Genealogy Department, “They have waited long enough.”

President Hinckley is concerned about everyone, especially missionaries. While I was serving as a mission president in Madrid, Spain, one of our missionaries was injured by some young men who pushed and shoved and beat him. We had to take the missionary to the hospital. President Hinckley heard what had happened and called to find out how he was doing. It was a great example to me of how concerned the prophet is about people.

On June 1, 1843, Addison Pratt left Nauvoo, Illinois, to preach the gospel in the Hawaiian Islands, leaving his wife, Louisa Barnes Pratt, to care for their young family.

In Nauvoo, as persecutions intensified, forcing the Saints to leave, and later at Winter Quarters as they prepared to migrate to the Salt Lake Valley, Louisa faced the decision of whether to make the journey. It would have been easier to stay and to wait for Addison to return than to travel alone.

On both occasions, she sought guidance from the prophet, Brigham Young, who encouraged her to go. Despite the great difficulty and her personal reluctance, she successfully made the journey each time.

Initially, Louisa found little joy in traveling. However, she soon began to welcome the green prairie grass, colorful wildflowers, and patches of ground along the riverbanks. “The gloom on my mind wore gradually away,” she recorded, “and there was not a more mirthful woman in the whole company.”

Louisa’s story has deeply inspired me. I admire her willingness to set aside her personal preferences, her ability to trust God, and how exercising her faith helped her to see the situation differently.

She has reminded me that we have a loving Father in Heaven, who cares for us wherever we are, and that we can trust Him more than anyone or anything else.

As John started down the hill toward home, fog mixed with smoke rolled over him in smothering waves. The frightened ten-year-old boy sat down to try to light the lantern Mr. West had loaned him to use in just such an emergency, but the dampness blew out the flame of the matches. John stood up, pulled his oilskin coat tighter about him, and tried to see ahead through the fog and darkness of the late afternoon.
Earlier that day John’s mother had sent him with a basket of food to the home of an old shepherd who lived alone about three miles northeast of Milnthorpe, England, where John lived with his family. It was the first time Mother had ever let John go on this errand alone, and he was both proud and excited. But he had stayed at Mr. West’s home too long, and when a dark cloud blacked out the sun before a soft rain started, John jumped up quickly and said goodbye to his old friend.
Mr. West offered to walk back with the boy to Milnthorpe, but John shook his head. “This is my first trip alone,” he explained, “and my mother wouldn’t let me come alone again if you had to take me home.”
Now John wished that Mr. West were with him. He imagined all kinds of strange sounds and movements in the fog that closed in thick around him. He had no idea where he was. Suddenly he came to a big iron gate that marked the end of the road, and from beyond the gate came the frightening growl of a dog.
John was almost paralyzed with fright. Then he remembered that his mother had told him that God was always near, even though he might sometimes think that he was all alone.
John dropped down on his knees and asked for help. As he did so, all his fear left; and he was not surprised a few minutes later to hear a voice call out of the mist, “Johnny, I’ve come to take you home.” It was Mr. West!
The young boy was John Taylor, who became the third president of the Church. Although he lived to be eighty years old, he never forgot the quick answer to his prayer as a frightened boy on that lonesome foggy evening.

You’re Rosalie Pakiding, you’re 18 years old, and you’ve just graduated from high school. You’ve been accepted at the University of San Carlos in your native Cebu, Philippines, and you’ve decided you want to major in political science. You’ve got the world in front of you, and you can’t wait to tackle college. You’ve got big plans.
Then the next thing you know, you’re withdrawing from classes and telling your family and friends you’ve decided not to go to school for six months. Attending school right now just doesn’t feel right. You say it’s a feeling you have, but you really know it’s the Holy Ghost speaking to you. It doesn’t make sense to many people. But it does to you, and that’s all that matters.
So you’re left waiting for the second semester to start, which is still six months away. Half a year with free time on your hands. What do you do? You could apply for a job, so you check around to see what’s available. You’re offered a position working in a factory assembling parts to telephones. But working all day means you’d miss your institute classes, and since you enjoyed seminary so much when you were in high school, you turn the job down because, as you say, “Institute is more important.”
Then some things happen that help you understand why you had the feelings you did about going to school. It begins to make more sense.
You meet with Mrs. Itomay from your neighborhood. Her six-year-old daughter, Queenie Ann, is in kinder-one in school, but she has some troubles. She was born with a defect in her tongue that limits her ability to speak. Mrs. Itomay works all day, and she is worried. She knows Queenie Ann needs a tutor who can give her individual attention in the areas that are hard for her. But Mrs. Itomay doesn’t know who could provide that help. To compound matters, she doesn’t have much money to pay a tutor.
So you look at Mrs. Itomay and say, “I think I have an idea.”
You volunteer to be Queenie Ann’s tutor, and Mrs. Itomay is so relieved. What little money she does have she offers to you, but you turn it down. Although you could use the money you realize those seminary lessons about service really did sink in.
Suddenly you’ve got things to do, and life is going to be a bit different. It seems a little odd that instead of sitting in college classes as you planned, it’s you and this six-year-old working on the alphabet.
But you settle into a routine. You do your household chores in the morning and then pick up Queenie Ann. You have word exercises for her to do, you help her write her letters, and you take her to school. She’s a bit of a slow learner. But when she writes out a letter or says a word, you feel so good inside. You also discover she likes to sing. She’s shy around strangers, but you’ve quickly become her best friend. She sings to you a lot. Things are going so well that Queenie asks you if you’ll teach her more. You can tell she’s really learning. And she seems very happy. Whether you’re learning words or stopping for a soda pop break at a store outside the school, it doesn’t matter. She just likes being with you. And you know what? You like it too.
“I’ve learned to love her,” you say, not the least bit surprised by your response.
Taking a semester off, you also figured to have some free time when you weren’t with Queenie Ann. But then your ward, Mandaue II, is asked to produce a road show about the Book of Mormon for a stake activity. It’s a big project, and your bishop is looking for a person to serve as the scriptwriter. Everybody is so busy with school except you, so you volunteer for the assignment. Again, it just feels right.
There have been times when you wondered if you made the right decision, delaying school and everything. You’ve watched while friends progressed in school without you. You’ve asked your Heavenly Father for a confirmation that what you were doing was what he wanted and what was best for you. Eventually those feelings of doubt leave and you say, “I understand now.” And you really do.
Your testimony continues to grow, and you are so excited when you learn new gospel concepts. You’re a bit short on money, but that doesn’t seem to matter. “The knowledge I have learned from institute class cannot be exchanged for the money I could have earned if I had worked,” you explain when someone asks why you’re doing this. Then you continue. “I’m very happy about it.”
It’s then that you look down at Queenie Ann, who’s holding your hand. She looks up at you while squinting in the hot Philippines sun. She smiles, and as you smile back you realize that while dropping out of school for one semester would not be the right decision for most people, it was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made.

My father had an idea that his boys ought to learn to work in the summer as well as in the winter, and so he bought a five-acre farm which eventually grew to include more than 30 acres. We lived there in the summer and returned to the city when school started.
We had a large orchard, and the trees had to be pruned each spring. Father took us to pruning demonstrations put on by experts from the agriculture college. We learned a great truth—that you could pretty well determine the kind of fruit you would pick in September by the way you pruned in February. Further, we learned that new, young wood produces the best fruit. That has had many applications in life (from Ensign, May 1993, 52).

Torje Gundersen, 18, lives in Narvik, where he performs the harsh, rough labor that teenagers eager for money seem willing to do. He spends his days at a factory, cutting and weighing fish. But Torje has an excellent reason for working so hard: he’s saving up for his mission.
Torje is the only young man his age in the Narvik Branch, and here at the conference he’s all smiles. He’s just had his interviews, and he knows he’ll be receiving the Melchizedek Priesthood, one of the final steps in preparing for his mission.
“I know the Church is true,” he says simply. “It’s hard for all the youth here to always see that. It’s a lot like being in the middle of a rainstorm. Sometimes life seems all dark and threatening. But if you hold on to the gospel, if you live by the principles, you’ll make it through the storms. There’s always better weather.”

I started attending a new school when I was 14. I was overwhelmed at the idea of having to start over. I wasn’t good at making friends, and I wasn’t good with change. Every day after school at my new school, I would cry on my dad’s shoulder. I was so sad and missed my old friends. All I wanted was to go back to my old school.
That was also when I began taking seminary. Seminary got me through each day. I began to realize it was because I felt the Spirit there. I started praying more often, listening in Church meetings more intently, and having a meaningful fast each month. Over the next few months, I became truly happy again.
I love the gospel of Jesus Christ. Thanks to the gospel, I found true happiness during the hardest trial of my life, and I learned about the pure love of God.

One young man I’ll call Damon wrote: “Growing up, I struggled with pornography. I always felt so ashamed that I could not get things right.” Each time Damon slipped, the pain of regret became so intense, he harshly judged himself to be unworthy of any kind of grace, forgiveness, or additional chances from God. He said: “I decided I just deserved to feel terrible all the time. I figured God probably hated me because I wasn’t willing to work harder and get on top of this once and for all. I would go a week and sometimes even a month, but then I would relapse and think, ‘I’ll never be good enough, so what’s the use of even trying?’”
At one such low moment, Damon said to his priesthood leader: “Maybe I should just stop coming to church. I’m sick of being a hypocrite.”
His leader responded: “You’re not a hypocrite because you have a bad habit you are trying to break. You are a hypocrite if you hide it, lie about it, or try to convince yourself the Church has the problem for maintaining such high standards. Being honest about your actions and taking steps to move forward is not being a hypocrite. It is being a disciple.” This leader quoted Elder Richard G. Scott, who taught: “The Lord sees weaknesses differently than He does rebellion. … When the Lord speaks of weaknesses, it is always with mercy.”
That perspective gave Damon hope. He realized God was not up there saying, “Damon blew it again.” Instead, He was probably saying, “Look how far Damon has come.” This young man finally stopped looking down in shame or looking sideways for excuses and rationalizations. He looked up for divine help, and he found it.
Damon said: “The only time I had turned to God in the past was to ask for forgiveness, but now I also asked for grace—His ‘enabling power’ [Bible Dictionary, “Grace”]. I had never done that before. These days I spend a lot less time hating myself for what I have done and a lot more time loving Jesus for what He has done.”
Considering how long Damon had struggled, it was unhelpful and unrealistic for parents and leaders assisting him to say “never again” too quickly or to arbitrarily set some standard of abstinence to be considered “worthy.” Instead, they started with small, reachable goals. They got rid of the all-or-nothing expectations and focused on incremental growth, which allowed Damon to build on a series of successes instead of failures. He, like the enslaved people of Limhi, learned he could “prosper by degrees.”

My dear brothers and sisters, I desire more than anything this hour to bear witness, a personal witness, of the love of God for me, for you, and for all mankind. What man is sufficiently adequate to be able to express the depth of his gratitude in recognition of the love of God? How blessed I have been for so many years to be with you and to have found the pure love of Christ emanating from you. I am deeply indebted to you and to God.
The Lord said that charity is “the pure love of Christ,” that which is “most joyous to the soul,” “the greatest of all the gifts of God,” “perfect” and “everlasting.”
As difficult as charity is to describe, it is rather easily recognized in the lives of those who possess it.
An aged, crippled grandmother who subscribes to an afternoon newspaper, knowing it will bring her delivery-boy grandson to her home every day where, at her knee, she teaches him to pray.
A mother who, in hard economic times and scarcity of meat, seems to savor only chicken wings, to the puzzlement of all.
A man who suffers an undeserved public chastisement, but humbly receives it anyway.
Is not the common thread in these examples charity, a selflessness, a not seeking for anything in return? All of our divine attributes seem to flow from and be encompassed by this one. All men may have the gift of love, but charity is bestowed only upon those who are true followers of Christ.
The very power of God is found in His attributes of godliness. The power of the priesthood is maintained by these attributes. We seek these attributes, especially charity, the pure love of Christ.
Yet there stands the devil, the destroyer of this love, replacing it with anger and hostility. My friend William felt that way: hostile. It seemed that whatever happened, it was the Lord’s fault—an illness, a death, a wayward child, a personal weakness, an “unanswered” prayer—all of which hardened his heart. His inner anger, which could flare up in but a moment, was directed toward God, his fellowman, and himself. From his heart emanated unbelief, stubbornness, pride, contention, and a loss of hope, love, and direction. He was miserable!
These destroyers of peace blinded William to God’s feelings for him. He could neither discover nor feel God’s love. He did not see, especially in those dark moments, that God was richly blessing him even still. Instead, he returned anger for love. Have we not all felt that at times? Even when we have merited love the least, He has loved us the most. Truly, He loves us first.

Fruit punch, dainty cakes, and lacy dresses were soundly defeated by bicycles, apples, and jeans as the Nephi, Utah, Young Women and their mothers voted for a pedal-power retreat.
Taking cue from the stake sports director’s suggestion that the women’s programs needed more activity, the mothers and daughters in the Nephi Stake scheduled a six-mile ride from the stake house to the airport and back. After the trip, most mothers agreed that they were grateful the course was flat and their tires weren’t.
A Nephi City policeman whose daughter and wife were riding with the group was on the scene to direct any traffic jams and, if necessary, revive puffing bikers with resuscitation gear.
The halfway point meant punch and apples and a short time-out for weak thighs and wobbly knees. Nearing the end of the course there were lots of red faces, but they knew they’d be a lot redder if they rode back in an accompanying truck via four wheels instead of two. One daughter had both her mother and grandmother riding with her, and the three generations were willing to take on any challengers.
Back at the stake house, mothers and daughters were served a well-earned lunch followed by a short program. There were even awards for bikers: “Lifesavers” for the most helpful; a “Powerhouse” bar for the speediest pedaler; “Snickers” candy for the biggest giggler; a “Rally” bar for the most impressive last effort; and a package of “Rolaids” for a mother who took a turn with a little too much enthusiasm and landed in a ditch.

A young woman sat across from me describing what seemed to her to be a “hopeless” marriage. She had been married in the temple only a few short months before, but things just weren’t working out. The romance was disappearing, she said; her attraction to her husband had been lost in the daily responsibilities of living. When I asked why he hadn’t come with her, she replied that he didn’t see any problem in their relationship. “He’s really a good man,” she said, “but I’m just not committed to him anymore. My love is gone.”
I have thought many times since that day about commitment in marriage. The Savior taught the principle of commitment when he answered the Pharisees, saying, “For this cause shall a man leave father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife. … What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.” (Matt. 19:5–6.) The word cleave is a powerful action word meaning to adhere closely.
Love is the necessary ingredient in cleaving to one’s spouse. “Thou shalt love thy wife with all thy heart,” the Lord said, “and shalt cleave unto her and none else.” (D&C 42:22.) However, the term love has different meanings to different people. To some, love is only an emotional and physical attraction accompanied by romantic idealization. To them, love doesn’t necessarily include the important concepts of commitment and cleaving. To others, love is the quiet, steady feeling that develops between people when they share important life experiences. Both kinds of love are important; both contribute to good marriages. But in many cases, romantic love is overplayed, while the commitment that leads to true cleaving is lacking.
As a young missionary in the Republic of South Korea, I was impressed with the quality of many of the Korean people’s marriages. When I was told that the marriages were arranged by parents, I wondered how two people could cleave so well without having first developed romantic love toward each other. Because of the narrow view I had at the time of commitment in marriage, I thought romantic feelings were the sole binding force.
But I learned some basic principles about committed love as I observed those marriages. I learned that when two people work with each other to produce a home, when they struggle to keep children fed and healthy—then love occurs. When illness or adversity strikes and one spouse sacrifices to help and care for the other—then they learn to love. When husband and wife are progressing together spiritually and emotionally—then love grows. Love, I learned, comes as the marriage, and the marriage partners, develop.
How then can a married couple foster commitment to each other?
Crises can build strong marriage. It is unfortunate that some couples see struggles in marriage as an excuse to escape. Too often they fall into blaming each other for the stresses rather than relying on each other for affection and support. Trials in life can serve as a foundation to committed love.
Recently my wife and children were very ill from an unusual bacterial infection. I gave them blessings and prayed for them. Then, not wanting to expose anyone else to their sickness, I arranged my work schedule to be able to be home to care for their needs. It was soon apparent that my acts of service to help them through three weeks of illness became a strong binding force for us. Such struggles in life sometimes push marital partners apart, but crises can serve as the training ground for commitment. We often perform such acts of service because we are committed beforehand, but in many instances service precedes commitment. It is in serving each other that we become committed to each other.
The marital relationship is much like raising rare, beautiful flowers. You plant the seed and nourish it with water, food, soil, and light. If the delicate balance of these ingredients is upset, the growth and beauty of the flower may be disturbed for a time. But working to achieve a balance of required nutrition, you can overcome the problem. Commitment to the flower comes as you take care of its needs and try to help it grow into beauty.
President Spencer W. Kimball has discussed the relationship between marital love and adversity: “a marriage may not always be even and incidentless, but it can be one of great peace,” he has promised. “A couple may have poverty, illness, disappointment, failures, and even death in the family, but even these will not rob them of their peace. The marriage can be successful so long as selfishness does not enter in. Troubles and problems will draw parents together into unbreakable unions if there is total unselfishness there. During the depression of the 1930s there was a definite drop in divorce. Poverty, failures, disappointment—they tied parents together. Adversity can cement relationships that prosperity can destroy.” (Marriage and Divorce, Deseret Book, 1976. pp. 19, 22.)
In my own marriage I have made a very conscious decision to not let outside struggles drive me from my wife. I have learned that, besides the Lord, she is my greatest support in any crisis. If I allow fears and irritations about a problem to divide us, I have excluded the person who could best help me turn the crisis into a strength.
Even when a couple experiences a division between them, working toward a shared goal can revive the ties that bind them together. Too often couples negatively emphasize the differences between them. It is more important to emphasize shared aspirations and work toward them.
I learned this principle as a Boy Scout leader in a struggle to get two groups of boys to change their negative attitudes toward each other. After trying several unsuccessful strategies, I placed them in a situation which required cooperation to overcome an obstacle. They united to achieve a common goal, and we never experienced conflict between the two groups after that day.
Recently I listened as a couple complained that they had few interests in common. She liked to read; he didn’t. He played racquetball, but physical problems kept her from doing so. The list of differences went on and on. I asked if there wasn’t just one interest they shared. They shook their heads. Finally I suggested they take a ceramics class together. Neither had tried anything like that, so it gave them a new, common interest. The effect was unbelievable. As they worked toward a common goal, the excitement of growing together helped them gradually forget their differences.
It would be wise for all of us to ask the following question frequently: “What have I done recently to improve my spouse’s feelings about himself or herself?” By deciding to enhance one another’s self-esteem, we become very committed to each other; the other’s improvement in the way they feel becomes our success as well. In addition, we need to be willing to help our partners grow in whatever area they might desire. Spouses need to encourage each other in spiritual pursuits, intellectual development, and physical fitness. It is important to encourage them, rather than discourage them by nagging remarks and demands. When we accept the goal of helping our spouse grow in a chosen area, we will experience the commitment to that person which accompanies such an attitude.
Nurturing also means finding strengths rather than weaknesses in our spouse. One of the recurring differences in studies of happily married couples compared to marriages in trouble is the amount of positive daily conversation. A good rule is to make at least two-thirds of our conversations with our spouse pleasant, positive, and nurturing to both. Problems need to be talked about and worked through, but to spend all of our time together solving problems isn’t appealing in any relationship.
“He that loveth his wife loveth himself. For no man ever yet hated his own flesh; but nourisheth it and cherisheth it.” (Eph. 5:28–29.) It is extremely difficult to be committed to our husband or wife when we feel we have nothing to offer. Just as we can’t focus primarily on our spouse’s weaknesses, we should strive to give positive messages to ourselves.
We sometimes have degrading conversations within ourselves. Listening to the thoughts and feelings that enter our minds when we look in the mirror, meet someone for the first time, or complete a task can be a key in determining the degree of love we have for ourselves. Replacing negative thoughts with positive ones can increase our self-love. Another assignment that has benefitted many individuals is to imagine themselves behaving in successful and positive ways.
We never know all there is to discover about anyone. Even though we may be married to someone for a lifetime, that someone is growing and changing. This fact makes marriage exciting—there are always delightful new things to learn about our spouse if we search for them.
One husband was recently astonished at the depth of his wife’s knowledge about political candidates. She had studied the issues and analyzed each candidate’s stand. He gained a new respect for her in his attempts to learn from her study. Another couple spends time sharing the books each reads. The husband doesn’t have as much time to read, but he enjoys her sharing what she reads. The nicest part is that he learns a great deal about his wife’s values and feelings through their discussions. This keeps their marriage vibrant and stimulating.
Some parents become closer to their children than to each other. Children might even try to get one parent to side with them against the other. When this occurs, it does not help the child or the parents.
Likewise, people and activities outside the family can have a stronger hold on us than our wives or husbands. Work, leisure, and friends can interfere with the strength of the marital commitment. It is important to guard against this by planning and taking time to talk and be together as a couple.
Anniversaries are significant events because they symbolize the marital commitment. Other events and places associated with the marriage or courtship can also become symbolic. By renewing acts such as giving flowers, writing notes, or observing special celebrations, couples are reminded of their bond. Some couples plan a time when they can leave the children with a competent babysitter for a weekend and get away. These practices serve to strengthen “cleaving together.”
At a very young age I realized my father and mother loved each other very much. It became evident in the symbols that represented their bond. Their anniversary was an event marked with great celebration. At other times of the year, outward symbols served to renew their marital commitment. The look on my mother’s face when my father presented her with a dozen red roses is indelibly painted in my mind. The symbol was powerful in my life, and my parents renewed the event many times as I grew older.
On my own wedding day, we also selected roses to represent our special occasion. Thus we continued a tradition that symbolized commitment, a symbol I had loved to witness in my parents.
Celestial living involves a never ending marital commitment. The life that results from obedience to gospel principles is one of service and compassion to one’s spouse and family. When a man and woman are married for eternity, they decide that they can better progress spiritually together than either could alone. The temple marriage does not promise to erase the struggles of married life, but it does offer the potential for commitment that can be achieved in no other way.

Esi liked to sing. Singing in Primary made her happy. She knew that Jesus loved to hear her sing.
One day Mama and Baba were singing a hymn in sacrament meeting. Esi wanted to sing too, but she didn’t know the words.
“Why are you sad?” Mama asked Esi.
“I don’t know the words,” Esi said.
“I have an idea,” Mama said. “Next week when we sing, you can hum along.”
Esi felt much better. She liked to hum.
The next week Esi hummed while Baba and Mama sang the hymns. Esi felt happy. She knew that Jesus loved to hear her hum.

Above the timberline, a mountain peak is a desolate spot, a land of boulders and glaciers. In the high Uintas, particularly, such a peak is often a land of rocks and rocks and rocks, with an occasional patch of snow or sparse vegetation to relieve the monotony. But it is also a spot from which the entire world spreads before you like a marvelous tapestry, designed and woven by the Creator.
Some peaks are lone and desolate and foreboding. Others, though cluttered with talus, seem glad for the company of adventurers and eager to lift them, both through their elevation and their lofty view of the world. Mount Watson is one of the latter, a friendly mountain if you get to know it. But it rewards only the diligent with a view from the top and a slide down its snowbanks. To get there requires some strenuous hiking.
The young women of the Spanish Fork 14th Ward, Spanish Fork Utah Stake, accepted the mountain’s invitation and challenge last summer and spent four days in some of the most beautiful country on earth—country made even more exciting by the fact that it’s reasonably close to the girls’ hometown.
“The Uinta trip is a yearly adventure for me and my two sons, and since I had been called as a ward camp specialist, we decided that this year we’d take the Young Women along,” said Sister Mary Visker. Her two sons, Jeremy (age 9) and Kevin (age 11), easily blended into the group and offered lots of help and advice about building rafts, putting worms on hooks, mixing pancake batter, and lighting safe fires. (In addition, they were the only ones, along with Bob Trevenen, a Sunday School teacher who’s also a seven-year veteran forest firefighter and a paramedic, to catch any fish!) A few other hardy adventurers, like Young Women President Beverly Lewis; Bishop Darwin Thomas; Ray Huntington, first counselor in the bishopric and a seminary teacher at Spanish Fork High; and Pam, Bob’s wife, who’s also a Sunday School teacher for some of the young ladies, rounded out the group that included a dozen Mia Maids and Laurels.
Sister Visker knew that with some advance planning, the trip would go well. Besides, most of the girls had completed the stake Young Women Campcrafter Certification program, which included hiking, camping, and first-aid training. With her help, the young women prepared a menu, a cooking schedule, and a packing list, including items needed to build a reflector oven to bake cakes in the wilderness. “We wanted the girls to bring as little as they could and still be comfortable for the four-day trip,” Sister Visker said. “We had to talk them out of bringing huge pillows and stuffed animals, but some of them still smuggled up things like fingernail polish, curlers, and lipstick.”
For 14-year-old Kimberly Lewis, however, it was the first time on a backpacking trip. “Before we left, I didn’t think I’d make it,” she said. “I thought it would be a long hike the first day, but in fact the three miles went so fast that when we got to the camp, I said, ‘You mean this is it?’ Then some of us went swimming (in Watson Lake by the campsite),” Kim continued. “It was cold, but fun, because the water was so clear.”
While the others were swimming, Marlene and Jeremy became the Tom Sawyers of the group. “Jeremy was out there building a raft, and he said ‘Come in and help me,’” Marlene said. “So I went over and we started putting boards and logs together and tying them with string and rope. Then we just floated out on it.” Adult leaders nearby kept a careful watch on swimmers and rafters in case of emergency. In fact, Sister Lewis lent a hand building the raft.
The group had arrived in Mount Watson’s neighborhood, but the trek to the summit would begin the next day, after dinner and a good night’s rest. What the young ladies hadn’t counted on was rain—buckets of it. Maybe the mountain wanted to see how sincere they were about the climb. “The rain came while we were trying to get our dinner. It put out our fire and everything. Soggy macaroni, soggy everything,” said 15-year-old Becky Thomas. “But it was good, wasn’t it?” laughed, Suanne, her 17-year-old sister.
There were the inevitable problems of leaky tents, soaked sleeping bags, and dripping clothes. Luckily, Bishop Thomas, who had been rained out once on a similar trip, had hauled along a box of plastic garbage sacks. A large face hole punched in one corner transformed a sack into a makeshift rain coat and offered some protection until dinner was done. (To avoid danger, the use of the plastic bags was carefully supervised.) Later that evening, when one tent was flooded, those in well-pitched shelters courteously doubled up so that everyone could be dry and warm. There were also the usual sleeping struggles of avoiding roots, pointed rocks, and bumps in the ground, but eventually everyone managed to doze off.
The next day the girls left their backpacks behind, carrying with them only canteens and crackers and cheese for lunch, and mounted the assault on the peak. As the elevation increased, forests gave way to scattered trees, trees gave place to shrubbery, and finally, there was nothing to climb but barren, broken rock.
“For safety’s sake, we have a system—we keep talking to each other and keep each other aware of where we are,” Sister Visker said. “That way, if loose rocks fall, we’re able to give warning and get out of the way.”
“It was hard climbing,” said 16-year-old RaLene Neal. “Sometimes we were on our hands and knees.”
“But we had our fun, too,” 17-year-old Shelly Michelsen wrote in her journal. “We took turns sliding down a glacier and had a super time. Then we pushed on along the ridge until we reached our goal. I sat down as close to the edge as I dared and, like the others, looked in all directions. A cool breeze was blowing around my hot face, but I felt calm and restful. We were so filled with the beauty of our surroundings—the rippling lakes, the pine forests, mountains in all directions, even out into Wyoming. I felt very in tune with my Father. I thought of how he must have felt when he looked over all he created and saw that it was good.”
“One of the men in the ward told us before we left that it couldn’t be done, that we couldn’t climb to the top of Mount Watson,” Becky Palmer, 15, said. “So when we got there we felt like we had achieved the impossible.”
“I thought,” Shelly continued, “that even though we’re not always up in the mountains, we can still have the same feeling, the same reverence for God’s work. I think life with its hardships is a big mountain, but if we keep at it, there’s a time when we’ll reach the top and look down at what we’ve done, and we’ll know that it’s good, too.”
Maria Lecon, 15, said she was “most impressed with the spirit we felt up there. I knew that the Lo.”
For Edie Coats, 17, it was a time of gratitude. “We just moved here from Virginia, and I was a little bit scared. But the first Sunday, everyone was so friendly to me. They were coming on this trip the next Saturday, and they wanted me along! I think by coming on the trip, I really got to know the girls in my ward.”
Most of the girls kept journals of their experiences and feelings, and there on the mountaintop, the group paused and wrote poems. “I felt like every poem was sort of a journal in itself,” Shelly said, “because it came from the heart and described a special time in our lives.” At a morning meeting the next day, the young ladies read their verses to each other.
Of course, the slide down the snowbanks left a pleasant memory, too. “We used the same garbage sacks we had used before in the rain as ’sleds,’” said Rachel Palmer, 17. “The glacier was less slick at the bottom—it looked steeper than it was. But a couple of times we did have to use our feet for brakes.”
Dinner that night and breakfast the following morning were cooked and served in number 10 cans, the main “pan” carried on the excursion. “We did bring utensils and a skillet or two, but the large cans really helped keep weight in the packs to a minimum,” Sister Visker explained. Around the campfire the girls each shared one positive thing they had learned about someone else since the trip began and also drew names to see who they would be the “wood elf” for. Wood elves do mysterious, anonymous kind deeds for someone else in a camping group.
The next day was to have been spent “puddle jumping” (visiting one lake after another). “But when we got to the first one, Wall Lake,” said Marlene Neal, 15, “we liked it so well that we stayed.” Activities at the lake included cliff diving, fishing, and swimming.
“We had to check it out and make sure it was safe before we started cliff diving,” Marlene explained. “We had to make sure there were no rocks on the bottom and that the water was deep enough. And an adult supervisor trained in lifeguarding and first aid had to be there all the time, too.”
At first, the divers were scaring the fish away, so the swimmers moved to another location. Then one of those fishing scared the fish away! “Sister Visker helped me get a little fake fly way out away from the shore,” Maria said. “As soon as it landed in the water, a big fish came along. It scared me, so I threw a rock at it.”
Marlene also had her problems fishing: “I’d hook the grass at the bottom and all my lures and sinkers would get torn off. But it was still fun.”
The various activities of the day left the girls tired, but not too worn out to express their feelings during a testimony meeting. They read their favorite scriptures to each other, spoke again of their love for nature, for the gospel, and for the Lord, and talked about the lessons they had learned on their trip: lessons of perseverance, sacrifice, relaxation, and sharing the load.
“It’s unbelievable the feeling you get on top of a mountain,” said Sandy Kay, 17. “If you have an open mind and a humble heart, it can really help straighten out your priorities and help you see the reason why we’re here.”
The next morning the girls had loaded up their gear and they were on the trail home. But they weren’t rushing away. Somehow they wanted to linger just a bit longer, savoring the strength of the hills they had learned to love.

Illustrations by Mina Price
When Ian woke up, he heard his mother singing. It was “I Feel My Savior’s Love.” That was Ian’s favorite Primary song. He started singing along with her.
“You’re awake!” she said. She was smiling and had tears in her eyes. Ian saw his dad sitting next to her. He looked happy too.
“I’ve been singing your favorite songs to you every day,” Mom said.
Ian smiled back—but his head hurt. Actually, his whole body hurt, especially his leg.
He slowly looked around. He wasn’t at home. He was lying on a metal bed in a strange room. Then he saw a nurse and lots of other beds nearby. This must be a hospital, he thought.
“What happened to me?” he asked.
Mom’s face turned sad. “You were in a bad accident. A metal gate fell on you. You’ve been in the hospital for two weeks, but you are going to be OK.”
Two weeks! Wow, that’s a long time to be asleep, Ian thought. The last thing he could remember was being at the church building, practicing for the Primary program …
Oh no! The program!
“Did I miss the Primary program?” Ian asked. He had been looking forward to it for so long! He loved singing with his friends.
Mom smiled and shook her head. “No, you didn’t miss it. The ward decided to postpone it until you woke up so you could be part of it.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Dad said. “All the Primary kids asked the bishop to wait. They wanted you to be there. They knew how excited you were for it.”
Ian was happy he could still be in the Primary program. But he had to get better first. And that took a long time. He had to stay in the hospital for a while longer. When he finally got to come home, he still couldn’t walk or play.
But his friends got to come visit him. Ian would ask them about school and church. And they would ask him when he was coming back.
“Not until my leg is better,” he would tell them. “I still can’t walk.”
October turned into November, and Ian slowly got better. One day his friends invited him to come over and watch a movie with them. Ian’s mom and dad helped get him there.
“Does your leg still hurt?” his friend Chaís asked him.
“Yes,” Ian said. “But it’s getting better little by little.”
“Can you walk yet?” Chaís asked.
“I haven’t tried today,” Ian said.
“Here, let’s try right now,” Chaís said. She helped him stand up. Carefully, Ian put his foot down. He moved his body forward. He was still standing! It was his first step in over a month! Everyone clapped.
“Maybe this means you can come back to church soon!” Chaís said.
She was right. In a few more weeks, Ian’s leg finally stopped hurting. The doctors took the cast off his leg and put on a brace instead. When Sunday came, it was time for the Primary program.
During sacrament meeting, Ian walked to the front of the chapel with his friends. He stood up straight and smiled at his mom and dad. He sang the songs as loud as he could. When it was his turn, he stood at the microphone and shared his testimony. He was grateful for his Primary friends. And he was glad he could be part of the Primary program after all.
Ian lives in the Dominican Republic. Go to pages 12–13 to learn about this country and see a picture of Ian!

One time, a woman was feeding some kittens close to my church building, and I invited her to come to a Church conference. She didn’t go, but inviting her helped me feel God’s love and His Spirit.
I felt very happy and grateful for the chance to invite her, and I felt that I could invite people more often. Even if people don’t do what I hope, I know I will feel happy for trying.
Everyone should take the opportunity to share the gospel and feel the joy that I felt that day.

Perhaps no one in my reading has portrayed this teaching of the Master quite so memorably or so beautifully as Henry Van Dyke in his never-to-be-forgotten “The Mansion.” In this classic is featured one John Weightman, a man of means, a dispenser of political power, a successful citizen. His philosophy toward giving can be gained from his own statement: “Of course you have to be careful how you give, in order to secure the best results—no indiscriminate giving—no pennies in beggars’ hats! … Try to put your gifts where they can be identified and do good all around.” (See “The Mansion,” Unknown Quantity: A Book of Romance and Some Half-told Tales, New York: Scribner’s, 1918, pp. 337, 339.)
One evening, John Weightman sat in his comfortable chair at his library table and perused the papers before him spread. There were descriptions and pictures of the Weightman wing of the hospital and the Weightman Chair of Political Jurisprudence, as well as an account of the opening of the Weightman Grammar School. John Weightman felt satisfied.
He picked up the family Bible which lay on the table, turned to a passage and read to himself the words: “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:
“But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.” (Matt. 6:19–20.)
The book seemed to float away from him. He leaned forward upon the table, his head resting on his folded hands. He slipped into a deep sleep.
In his dream, John Weightman was transported to the Heavenly City. A guide met him and others whom he had known in life and advised that he would conduct them to their heavenly homes.
The group paused before a beautiful mansion and heard the guide say, “This is the home for you, Dr. McLean. Go in; there is no more sickness here, no more death, nor sorrow, nor pain; for your old enemies are all conquered. But all the good that you have done for others, all the help that you have given, all the comfort that you have brought, all the strength and love that you bestowed upon the suffering, are here; for we have built them all into this mansion for you.” (“The Mansion,” pp. 361–62.)
A devoted husband of an invalid wife was shown a lovely mansion, as were a mother, early widowed, who reared an outstanding family, and a paralyzed young woman who had lain for thirty years upon her bed—helpless but not hopeless—succeeding by a miracle of courage in her single aim: never to complain, but always to impart a bit of her joy and peace to everyone who came near her.
By this time, John Weightman was impatient to see what mansion awaited him. As he and the Keeper of the Gate walked on, the homes became smaller—then smaller. At last they stood in the middle of a dreary field and beheld a hut, hardly big enough for a shepherd’s shelter. Said the guide, “This is your mansion, John Weightman.”
In desperation, John Weightman argued, “Have you not heard that I have built a schoolhouse; a wing of a hospital; … three … churches?”
“Wait,” the guide cautioned. “… They were not ill done. But they were all marked and used as foundations for the name and mansion of John Weightman in the world. … Verily, you have had your reward for them. Would you be paid twice?”
A sadder but wiser John Weightman spoke more lowly: “What is it that counts here?”
Came the reply, “Only that which is truly given. Only that good which is done for the love of doing it. Only those plans in which the welfare of others is the master thought. Only those labors in which the sacrifice is greater than the reward. Only those gifts in which the giver forgets himself.” (“The Mansion,” pp. 364–68.)
John Weightman was awakened by the sound of the clock chiming the hour of seven. He had slept the night through. As it turned out, he yet had a life to live, love to share, and gifts to give.

You’ll see the most striking difference between character and actor when you look at Natalie Green. She plays Karen Parker, who makes progressively worse choices through the entire series. In real life, Natalie is a lively senior at Box Elder High School, where she’s an avid participant in the drama program. Away from school, she loves outdoor activities, including fishing, camping and rodeo. She’s a far cry from the questioning, sulking Karen.

Yet even with such a negative character, Natalie learned and grew from her part. She remembered catching the missionary spirit from the segment where the cast works to convert a nonmember friend. When one of Natalie’s theater acquaintances began asking questions about the Church, Natalie drew from the knowledge and spirit the script had given her. Soon Natalie and her friend were sharing membership in the Church as well as a place on the local stage.