Gospel Story Finder

George Albert was very ill. The doctor had diagnosed typhoid fever, a dread disease at that time, and ordered the boy to stay in bed for at least three weeks. His mother was told that George Albert should have only liquids and that she should brew him some coffee.
At this very young age, he demonstrated a great faith in his Heavenly Father and a willingness to follow His commandments. George Albert wanted to get well, of course, but he didn’t want to disobey the Word of Wisdom. He asked his mother to bring him water instead of coffee and to send for their ward teacher.
Brother Hawks came quickly in answer to Mrs. Smith’s request and gave George Albert a blessing, promising him that he would soon be well. And the very next morning when the boy awakened, the fever was gone and young George felt much better. Some years later in telling a group of children about this experience, he said, “I was grateful to the Lord for my recovery. I am sure that he healed me.”

Emily Good was one of the guides on that blustery Saturday. It was her “Set a Date” night—she had made the goal to teach a nonmember about the gospel, and that night was her deadline. At first, she thought the monsoon was going to thwart her efforts.
In the gardens, she saw a man and asked him if he would like to go on a tour. She got to the last stop, where the guides talk about the Book of Mormon, and bore her testimony. “The words just came out. I felt like I was pouring out my whole soul to him.” The man checked the box on the referral card indicating that he wanted the missionaries to teach him more about the gospel.
After the man left, Emily talked to the other guides, excited about sharing the gospel and meeting her goal. The other guides mirrored her enthusiasm.

Brian R.
Twelve-year-old Brian R. of Arizona, USA, was preparing to pass the sacrament for the first time. He didn’t want to make a mistake, so he asked the other Aaronic Priesthood holders in his ward to explain things to him.
“They were great,” he says. “They told me where to stand, where to go, and how to pass the trays.”
But even more important, they reminded him to be reverent. “We need to remember the Savior as we pass the sacrament,” Brian says. “If we are reverent, it helps others to remember Him too.”
Brian learned that others are happy to help him to understand his duties and to learn to do them well. “Just ask,” he says. “Moving from Primary into Young Men is easier than you think.”

Now after all these years, we find that many of the medical profession and others agree that numerous diseases are the result of the use of these things. I remember standing by a hospital bed of a good friend of mine, and I watched him die of cancer. His physicians said it was caused by the use of tobacco. I have helped bury people who have been killed by the demon alcohol, and many other innocent people died because someone was driving who had been drinking.

In England, my wife and I became acquainted with Dorothy James, the widow of a clergyman who lived at the Close of Winchester Cathedral. She brought out a family Bible which was lost for many years.
Years before, the possessions of a family member had been sold. The new owner found the Bible in a small desk that had remained unopened for over 20 years. There were also some letters written by a child named Beaumont James. He was able to find the James family and return the long-lost family Bible.
On the title page my wife read the following handwritten note: “This Bible has been in our family since the time of Thomas James in 1683 who was a lineal descendant of Thomas James first librarian of the Bodleian Library at Oxford, who was buried in New College Chapel August 1629. [Signed] C. T. C. James, 1880.”
The margins and the open pages were completely filled with notations written in English, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. One entry particularly touched her. From the bottom of the title page, she read, “The fairest Impression of the Bible is to have it well printed on the Readers heart.”
And then this quote from Corinthians: “Ye are our epistle written in our hearts, known and read of all men: Forasmuch as ye are manifestly declared to be the epistle of Christ ministered by us, written not with ink, but with the Spirit of the living God; not in the tables of stone, but in fleshly tables of the heart. 2 Cor. 3:2–3.”

If you feel burdened or unsure about your responsibilities at home, the Lord can bless you to know what to do. At one particularly stressful time in my life, I felt like the daily load was more than I could bear. One night I had a dream—I saw myself placing a large bundle at the feet of each of my children. When I woke the next morning, I realized my children were responsible for their agency, not me, and that it was good for them to share in the work of our home. But I still had a very large bundle and wondered how I could manage it. Amazingly, the next night I had another dream, and this time I saw myself placing my bundle at the feet of the Savior. How I love Him. I’m thankful for the opportunities I’ve had over the years to draw closer to the Savior as a result of working, learning, and growing in my home.

On February 16, 1832, 187 years ago, Joseph Smith and Sidney Rigdon received the remarkable vision of the three kingdoms of glory, a central part of our doctrine and of the plan of salvation. Joseph and Sidney bore testimony of Jesus Christ, “who is the Son, whom we saw and with whom we conversed in the heavenly vision.”[1]
They heard the Savior say:
“I, the Lord, am merciful and gracious unto those who fear me, and delight to honor those who serve me in righteousness and in truth unto the end.
“Great shall be their reward and eternal shall be their glory. …
“And their wisdom shall be great, and their understanding reach to heaven. …
“For by my Spirit will I enlighten them.”[2]
Not long after that glorious vision, in March 1832, a group of men prepared and perpetrated a cruel and most brutal attack on Joseph Smith and Sidney Rigdon. In the middle of the night, they attacked the Prophet and Sidney in their homes. Joseph was dragged out of the house and into a meadow, beat up, and threatened with a knife. The men tried to pour liquid tar into his mouth. When that was not successful, they ripped off his clothes and poured the tar all over his hair and his beaten body, “covered him with feathers, dumped him to the cold ground, and left the scene.”
After his attackers left, Joseph tore the tar from his lips. He found Sidney not far from him, lying on the ground, and wasn’t sure if Sidney was dead or alive.
When Joseph and Sidney managed to get back home, family and friends tended to them all night. The next morning, Joseph got dressed and preached a sermon from the doorstep of the home where he was staying. In the aftermath of this event, one of Joseph and Emma’s twins died.[3] It was the fourth child he and Emma lost, born during the first four years of their marriage.
That same month, in March 1832, Joseph received several important revelations from the Lord. Among the counsel the Lord gave to Joseph was this profound statement: “Be of good cheer, for I will lead you along.”[4]

This story took place in Kiribati.
Timeon climbed up onto the log above him. Then he put his legs over it and hung upside down.
“This place is awesome!” Natieta said from below.
Timeon and his friends had found the empty tree hut earlier that week. It was a great place to play! The beams holding up the roof were perfect to swing from.
“I bet I can jump all the way across—just like a monkey,” Timeon said.
“I’ll meet you halfway!” Toani said.
Timeon used his arms to swing his body forward. Then he leaped out toward the beam by his friend. He reached his hands out, ready to grab on.
But his fingers slipped! Timeon fell to the ground.
“Ouch!” Timeon said. His friends ran to help him.
“Are you all right?” Natieta asked.
Timeon tried to get up, but he felt a sharp pain in his arm.
“I don’t know if I can move,” he said. He tried not to cry, but tears rolled down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Timeon,” Natieta said. “We’ll help take you home.”
Timeon’s friends helped him across the island. The sun had nearly set by the time they got back to his home.
“What happened?” Mom asked.
“We were playing in the empty hut,” Toani said. “Timeon slipped from a beam he was swinging on.”
Timeon couldn’t even straighten his arm. It hurt so much!
Mom thanked Timeon’s friends for bringing him safely home. She helped him lie down on the mat and put soft pillows all around him.
Timeon was still in pain. But there were no doctors close enough to visit in the dark. What if it kept hurting all night?
Timeon heard a voice call a greeting from outside the house. “Mauri!” It was the missionaries.
“It’s good to see you, elders,” Mom said. “Could you please give my son a priesthood blessing? He hurt his arm and is in a lot of pain.”
“Of course.” Elder Aitu smiled at Timeon. “Would you like a priesthood blessing, Timeon?”
Timeon knew that priesthood blessings invited power from God to help and heal people. He had faith that Heavenly Father would help him. He nodded. “Yes, please.”
The missionaries placed their hands on Timeon’s head. They said his full name and blessed him by the power of Jesus Christ to feel better.
Soon Timeon’s arm didn’t hurt so much. He felt calm and peaceful. He was even able to fall asleep.
When he woke up, it was already morning. His arm still hurt, but not nearly as much as before.
“How do you feel?” Mom asked.
“Much better,” he said. “I think priesthood power is real.”
“I’m glad the blessing helped you!” Mom gave Timeon a hug, careful not to bump his arm. “Now let’s go get some help for your arm to make sure it heals.”
Mom helped Timeon get on a bike. Then she got on behind him. She took them to their neighbor, who could help.
Timeon smiled while their neighbor treated his arm. Priesthood power was a real power from God. And he was so grateful!
The name Timeon is pronounced “Si-me-on.” The island where he lives, Kiribati, is pronounced “Ki-ri-bas.”
Illustrations by Melissa Kashiwagi

My first assignment in the Air Force was with the F-111 Fighter development program, to do economic analysis and trade-off studies. This was a prestigious assignment in an important national defense program. This position was a real opportunity for young Lieutenant Russell "to shine."

This was in the days when the Air Force glamorized alcohol. All social events in the Air Force seemingly focused on alcohol. My commander was Colonel Darwin E. Rasmussen. And Colonel Rasmussen was a great promoter of the Air Force social scene.

Shortly after my arrival, Colonel Rasmussen announced that the F-111 Program needed to throw a cocktail party to welcome the Russells. Oh, dear! I knew well that military officers had social responsibilities and that my advancement through the ranks required that we support the Air Force social agenda. Here I am, a brand new Air Force Officer, assigned to the nation's highest priority national defense program, trying to make a good impression in my first position, and I am to be the guest of honor at a drinking party.

We went to the Rasmussen home on the appointed evening. We were apprehensive. How would we decline cocktails at a cocktail party held in our honor? Colonel and Mrs. Rasmussen greeted us at the door, took our coats, and graciously guided us to seats. Then Colonel Rasmussen started taking orders around the room. Far to my right was Fred Sills, the senior program manager. "What are you drinking tonight, Fred?" asked Colonel Rasmussen? "I'll have a Manhattan," was the response. Next to Fred, Captain Walker asked for a Martini. Then we heard orders for other alcoholic beverages with strange and unfamiliar names. As Colonel Rasmussen approached us, I knew we would decline his offer. But how would we do it without offending him? I just knew that this social fiasco, only two weeks after entering active military service, was about to torpedo my career. Then Colonel Rasmussen stood before the Russells. He looked at me and my wife and said, "For you dear people, we have orange juice, Seven Up, or ginger ale."

I have no idea how Colonel Rasmussen knew that we were Latter-day Saints. But he did know, and he showed great respect for our standards.

A fairly recent e-mail from our missionary son reported on a series of incidents related to a family in Uruguay. The mother was not a member, and although the father was baptized at age 11, he had been less active for years. Two boys were in the family: a 14-year-old and a six-year-old. The 14-year-old had been baptized one year earlier. During that year he attended church every week by himself and did not miss a single day of seminary. He constantly looked for ways to share the gospel with his friends. Every Sunday he stayed after church to fulfill his duties as a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood, cleaning the sacrament table and trays. As a result of his faithfulness, his mother felt prompted to listen to the message of the missionaries—one of whom was my son. As her testimony of the gospel grew, her husband began to feel the tugs of the Spirit and decided to accompany his wife and children to church. Within weeks the mother was baptized, and the father began asking what would be required to take his family to the temple in Montevideo.
One Sunday before the mother was baptized, my son and his companion were sitting with this family at church. My son looked at the 14-year-old and saw that he had a smile on his face from ear to ear. I wonder if my son couldn’t keep from thinking that this was a young man who was acting in holiness before the Lord and reaping the associated blessings. President Cecil O. Samuelson has said:
We need to have the faith and capacity to move forward with the knowledge that when we are doing the right things in the right way, even when we face difficulties and challenges, we can expect and rely on blessings from heaven.
This young man in Uruguay was in the right place at the right time doing the right things. He was making the most of every opportunity to act in holiness. I am grateful for examples like this 14-year-old who inspire me to go and do likewise.

In my first year of high school, I made a commitment to read the New Testament from beginning to end. After school and on weekends, I retreated to the upper story of our house and read the Savior’s words and of His miracles and life.
Though my young mind often did not understand the language of the Bible, I came to know Jesus Christ. I learned that He is the Son of God and that He was sent to atone for our sins. I learned that He walked with, spoke to, and blessed ordinary, weak people—people like me.
I was sometimes confused while reading complex passages in Paul’s epistles and John’s writings in the book of Revelation, but I could always feel the truth of their teachings. I found that reading the scriptures helped me through hard days at school and gave me guidance in making important decisions.

“Oh no! Why did it have to snow?” five-year-old Carl said as he looked out the front window. He frowned as he watched the snowflakes fall. “Mom, does that mean our picnic at the park is canceled?”
“Until another day, I guess,” Mom said from the kitchen. “We can’t really have a picnic in the snow.”
“I wish the sun would come out and melt the snow,” Carl said.
Carl’s frown got bigger when his little brother came into the room holding Carl’s favorite toy car.
“That’s my car, Jared!” Carl said as he grabbed the toy.
Jared started to cry. Carl felt his stomach turn into a knot, and he frowned even more.
He walked into the kitchen, taking his car with him. “Not oatmeal again, Mom. Can’t we have pancakes instead?”
“Not today, Carl. Dad has to hurry or he’ll be late for work,” Mom said.
Carl sat down. His frown sank deeper and deeper.
“Where’s my happy lunch maker?” Dad asked as he walked into the room.
Carl looked up at Dad and frowned.
Dad started singing, “If you chance to meet a frown, do not let it stay. Quickly turn it upside down and smile that frown away.”*
All of a sudden, Carl felt Dad’s strong arms lift him off the chair and gently turn him upside down. Carl felt his frown melt away as he looked at Dad’s upside-down smiling face. He started smiling, and then laughed. Dad started laughing too, and then Mom and Jared did. Before long the whole family was laughing.
“Let’s turn the day right side up again. OK, everybody?” Dad sat Carl back down in the chair.
“OK, Dad,” Carl said.
Dad went to finish getting ready for work. Carl hurried and got an apple and carrots and put them in Dad’s lunch bag. Then he found another toy car in his room and gave it to Jared. He quickly set the table for breakfast and then sat down with a big smile on his face.
Just then Dad walked back into the kitchen. “Looks like everything is right side up again!” he said.
“Mom, can we have a picnic for lunch today inside the house?” Carl asked.
Mom smiled. “Sure. Just as long as we don’t have to eat upside down!”

Photo illustration by Ilda Masa/iStock/Thinkstock
On the first morning of our vacation, my family and I went snowboarding. After several runs and then lunch, my father, my older brother, and I decided to try a new trail. We snowboarded for quite some time through unfamiliar territory, encountering strange obstacles that you wouldn’t normally find on a regular ski trail. We weaved through trees and pushed through the endless snow until we discovered we’d taken a wrong turn at the top of the mountain. Now near the bottom of the canyon, we realized we were lost.
We were standing in three feet of snow, and aside from the few pine trees that dotted the canyon, everything was white. We had no idea where to go. It was three o’clock in the afternoon; in a few hours, the sun would set and temperatures would drop dramatically. Plus, the ski patrol went home at four o’clock. If we didn’t get help soon, we’d have to spend the night in the freezing cold, stranded in a snowy canyon without food, water, or clothes that would keep us warm enough through the night. I didn’t even want to think about what might happen to us.
We knew that contacting Mom was the only way we’d get out of the canyon that night. So we got out our phone, but we didn’t have any reception and the battery was almost dead. We adjusted the settings on the phone so an alarm would go off if we got to a place with service, and then we wandered anxiously as the sun sank lower behind the mountain.
As it got darker and colder, our chances for survival seemed to decrease. I began to worry. “What if we don’t make it out tonight?” I thought. Feeling overwhelmed and scared, the three of us offered a prayer to Heavenly Father asking for safety and for the comfort of the Holy Ghost. We asked Heavenly Father to help us find our way out of the canyon, to meet our physical needs, and to allow us to contact help.
As we opened our eyes, we saw a small trail, and the Holy Ghost prompted us to follow it south. Hiking through three feet of snow in winter gear is not an easy task, but we felt God’s merciful hand pushing us forward.
We reached the top of a small hill, and the phone beeped. We didn’t dare move from where we stood. Carefully, I pulled out the phone and sent Mom a message explaining our dire situation and asking her to contact the ski patrol.
By this point, the sun had almost disappeared behind the mountain. Temperatures averaged -25º Fahrenheit (-32º C) and were dropping fast. We were wet, cold, and tired, and we still had no idea where to go. “We could die out here,” I thought.
Then we heard voices—people were yelling for us! We yelled back and waved our arms around to try to get their attention. The ski patrol followed the sound of our voices until they saw us. They led us safely out of the canyon, and we were reunited with Mom, who waited just outside the mouth of the canyon. We had been saved.
As soon as I sat down, my tired body collapsed, the setting sun disappeared behind distant mountains, and my cell phone’s battery died. Heavenly Father had given us just enough energy and time to safely make it out of the canyon. He had heard our prayers and granted them to the fullest.
I am so grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who hears our prayers and watches over us.

It all started with a stutter. My mom would tell you it’s cute, but I would beg to differ. The first day of first grade, the teacher told us to stand up one by one and introduce ourselves. When it was my turn, I stood and immediately got nervous in front of the sea of people.
“H-h-h-hi, m-m-m-m-m-my name’s Smith.”
I was embarrassed that I had messed up in front of my new class. I sat down, and a girl looked me in my eyes (it felt like she looked into my soul) and said, “Why can’t you talk right?”
That day I decided I was different and that, because I was different, I was less important than everyone else.
Over time, my self-esteem got worse. I didn’t believe I could have friends who truly cared about me. I didn’t believe I was enough to make my parents proud. And ultimately, I didn’t believe there was a God who had sent His Son to die for me.
At the age of nine I was exposed to pornography online. I hadn’t gone looking for what I saw. But because I believed I wasn’t important, I thought that if I told my parents, they would be ashamed of me. This slowly led me down a path of addiction.
When I was 10 years old, I got onto social media, which gave me more ways to find pornography. At the same time, I started to compare my life with the “perfect” lives I saw on social media. I saw posts of people on vacation or hanging out with friends when I wasn’t invited. I saw people with these “perfect” bodies, and I didn’t think mine was good enough. With this cycle of self-loathing and addiction, my life spiraled quickly. At 14 years old, I planned to take my own life.
On a day I felt like my life was falling apart, my parents found out about my trials and guided me toward the Savior and His Atonement. It was a turning point in my life. I met with my bishop, and he and my dad gave me a blessing. It was the first time in six years I had felt the Spirit. It felt tangible.
Focus on Joy, by Michael Malm
It’s taken time and effort, but because of my Savior, Jesus Christ, I’ve been able to repent and grow stronger as a person. I’ve seen beautiful miracles in my life that are a direct result of the saving power of Christ’s Atonement.
I now spend my time as a public speaker, traveling the country and speaking to youth groups, schools, and communities about the harmful effects of social media and pornography. I teach about the importance of mental health and the need for suicide prevention. I’ve built a platform on social media that I can use for good. I just graduated high school. I’ve built two businesses and strong relationships with those I love. Most importantly, I’ve found God again. I have a sure testimony of God the Father, His Son, Jesus Christ, and Their power and influence.
None of this has happened because I have extra special talents or unusual abilities. Through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, I’ve been able to repent, overcome challenges, and find peace and healing. If you think you’re too far gone, my answer to you is that you’re wrong. I was willing to surrender to the redeeming power of Jesus Christ. You can too.

When I was nine, I moved away and no longer got to spend time in the garage with Grandpa. A few years later the distance multiplied when my grandparents were called to serve a mission in Hawaii. However, it was truly a blessing. My grandpa finally got the chance to serve the Lord as a missionary. Growing up in such a large family meant that money was limited, and a full-time mission wasn’t possible for him when he was young. While my grandpa had the desire to serve, a full-time mission involved a great deal of sacrifice. I had always wanted to serve a mission, and seeing my grandparents serve and the blessings that came from their service bolstered my desire. When my grandpa came back, the garage was waiting for him. The sounds of power tools and metal once again reverberated through the walls.

Julia has often served as a liaison between her community and the South African government in safeguarding her neighbors’ rights. Recently, she became concerned about pensioners who failed to receive their pension checks, sometimes for many months. Taking the subject on the air during a radio talk show she was invited to, Julia rallied community support and brought the issue to the attention of the new government.

In October 1835 he was called to the bedside of his sister-in-law, Mary Bailey Smith, who was confined in childbirth “in a very dangerous situation.” After sending his brother, Don Carlos, for the doctor, Joseph “went out into the field and bowed before the Lord and called upon him in mighty prayer in her behalf.” Whereupon, “the word of the Lord came unto me saying, ‘my servant Frederick [the doctor] shall come and shall have wisdom given him to deal prudently, and my handmaiden shall be delivered of a living child and be spared.’” The doctor did arrive and within a short time the child was safely delivered. “And thus what God had manifested to me was fulfilled every whit.”28

Ten-year-old Alexandra and her family are grateful that the missionaries were able to come to their country. Several years ago, the missionaries knocked on their door, and her grandmother invited them in. Because of that contact, Alexandra, her parents (Rosa and Arnaldo), and her brother (Victor), as well as her grandmother joined the Church. When Alexandra attended a Latter-day Saint meeting for the first time, she felt more comfortable there than she had at any other church. Later, when she was baptized, she knew that it was the right thing to do. Alexandra knew that she could gain exaltation and return someday to Heavenly Father and Jesus.

I was 14 years old when I experienced my first Christmas without snow. My family had just moved from the mountains of Utah to Texas, USA. To me, Texas felt too flat and hot. It was hard to feel the Christmas spirit when I had no friends at my new school and especially when there was no snow on the ground. I felt like I didn’t fit in anywhere, so I often felt lonely and sad.
Despite my gloom, Christmas was only a week away, and I was depending on our Christmas family traditions to lift my spirits. The fun activities my family did together in past years always made me feel so happy. Traditions were a big part of how we celebrated Christmas, so I thought I had nothing to worry about. They were called traditions for a reason, so I knew they had to be kept.
The days leading up to Christmas crawled by slowly. We hadn’t done anything together as a family yet to celebrate, so I was feeling pretty defeated. When Christmas Eve finally arrived, I waited all day for something to happen—anything that would show me that our cherished family traditions could still be kept in our new home. I’m sure I could have spurred these treasured traditions on my own, but I didn’t want to. In a way, I was looking for a sign to show me that the Christmas spirit was still alive.
Day faded to night and I grew more and more upset. Tears welled up in my eyes as my family gathered together to say our evening prayers. My entire home felt cold and empty, even with all of us living inside it. Suddenly, my dad pierced the silence with one question.
“Would anyone like to receive a priesthood blessing?”
My heart skipped a beat. I had worried so much about whether or not we would be putting up Christmas lights or baking holiday cookies that I had forgotten about one very special tradition we did every Christmas Eve—we all received a priesthood blessing. Receiving a blessing from my dad in the past always gave me peace, but not everybody in my family enjoyed receiving one. Sometimes my siblings and my mom would say they didn’t feel like they needed one. I didn’t want to get my hopes up again if everyone else was going to turn it down.
But this time was different. My mom stood up and sat down on the chair my dad had brought out for us.
“I would like one,” she said softly.
We were all very surprised, but my dad didn’t even hesitate. He placed his hands on my mom’s head and began to speak. I could sense how tuned in my dad was to my mom’s feelings and personal struggles. He spoke words of comfort and peace to her during this time of change.
I suddenly felt a burning sensation within my chest—almost like someone had lit a match inside of me. I knew I was feeling the Holy Ghost, even though the burning in my chest wasn’t the way I had always felt the Spirit before. It was like Heavenly Father was speaking directly to me, and it wasn’t even my priesthood blessing!
As my father quietly said “amen” and I opened my tear-filled eyes, I realized that my whole family was crying. We had all heard the Spirit speak to us in a tender and loving way that everything was going to be OK. My mom and dad hugged, and I felt like the raincloud that had been hanging over my head for so long had finally given way to sunshine.
We all received blessings, including me. In my blessing the Lord reassured me He is always mindful of me and wants me to be happy. It gave me feelings of peace and warmth that I hadn’t felt since I moved to Texas.
We may not have kept every tradition that year, but we always remembered how it felt to witness the power of God flow through my dad’s priesthood blessing. I will always remember how it changed my feelings of sadness to peace and joy. I also learned a valuable lesson about the power of the priesthood. When everything around you seems to be going the wrong way, a priesthood blessing can remind you of the Lord’s watchful and loving presence in your life.

One day my family went to a reception. There was a canal behind the home where the reception was being held. After eating refreshments, my brothers, sister, and I went out to jump on the trampoline in the backyard. My mom told me to watch my two-year-old brother, Jadon. We were jumping on the trampoline when I realized that I didn’t know where Jadon was. I had a feeling that I should look over at the fence by the canal. I looked there and saw Jadon climbing over the fence, saying, “Water, water!” I ran over and picked him up. I told him how dangerous it was to go into the canal. I felt good that I had listened to the Holy Ghost.Nicole L., age 10, Idaho