Gospel Story Finder

A few years ago, I was afforded the privilege to serve as a mission president and became intimately acquainted with more than four hundred missionaries. We had one young missionary who was very ill. After weeks of hospitalization, as the doctor prepared to undertake extremely serious and complicated surgery, he asked that we send for the missionary’s mother and father. He advised there was a possibility the patient would not survive the surgery.
The parents came. Late one evening, the father and I entered a hospital room in Toronto, Canada, placed our hands upon the head of the young missionary, and gave him a blessing. What happened following that blessing was a testimony to me.
The missionary was in a six-bed ward in the hospital. The other beds were occupied by five men with a variety of illnesses. The morning of his surgery, the missionary’s bed was empty. The nurse came into the room with the breakfast these men normally ate. She took a tray over to the patient in bed number one and said, “Fried eggs this morning, and I have an extra portion for you!”
The occupant of bed number one had suffered an accident with his lawnmower. Other than an injured toe, he was well physically. He said to the nurse, “I’ll not be eating this morning.”
“All right, we shall give your breakfast to your partner in bed number two.”
As she approached that patient, he said, “I think I’ll not eat this morning.”
Each of the five men declined breakfast. The young lady exclaimed, “Other mornings you eat us out of house and home, and today not one of you wants to eat! What is the reason?”
Then the man who occupied bed number six answered: “You see, bed number three is empty. Our friend is in the operating room under the surgeon’s hands. He needs all the help he can get. He is a missionary for his church, and while we have been patients in this ward, he has talked to us about the principles of his church—principles of prayer, of faith, of fasting wherein we call upon the Lord for blessings.” He continued, “We don’t know much about the Mormon church, but we have learned a great deal about our friend; and we are fasting for him today.”
The operation was a success. When I attempted to pay the doctor, he countered, “Why, it would be dishonest for me to accept a fee. I have never before performed surgery when my hands seemed to be guided by a Power which was other than my own. No,” he said, “I wouldn’t take a fee for the surgery which Someone on high literally helped me to perform.”

In Portugal, in the city of Funchal, on the Madeira Island, lived a lady named Asencão Frango who had been a nun for twenty years. As a matter of fact, she was a Mother Superior at a home for poor children and orphans. Toward the end of a four-year teaching assignment early in her life as a nun, doctors discovered a cancer in her throat. Her mother had died of this same disease. Although she knew that her deteriorating health might lead to certain death, she had a strong feeling that she had not finished her work on earth. She prayed with great faith for the restoration of her health and was healed, with no further problems or need for medical care.
When her church decided to close the children’s home where she was assigned, she maintained it herself for four years, using an inheritance she had received from her deceased parents, until the children living there were raised and on their own or were adopted.
Hearing of a new religion, she attended her first meeting of our church with a friend, out of curiosity. It was held on the dirt floor of a member’s garage, but the spirit of the meeting impressed her. The elders began teaching her the discussions and challenged her to be baptized. She declined, saying that she already had been baptized. The elders persisted by inviting her to read the Book of Mormon. The elders told her, “If this book is the true word of God, then Joseph Smith is a true prophet and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true. If so, you need to be baptized into God’s true church.”
She read the Book of Mormon and gained a strong testimony of its divinity. Later, she stopped the missionaries after a discussion of the Godhead and requested baptism. Just one year afterward, she stood on the doorstep of President Reuben P. Ficklin’s mission home in Lisbon. She obtained her temple recommend and could hardly wait to enter the Swiss Temple to pledge sacred covenants with her Heavenly Father.

In one of my stake conference assignments in the Salt Lake Valley, I invited a young deacons quorum president to join me to talk about the keys of the priesthood. I wanted him to understand that he held a very special office that included the keys to preside over a quorum of the priesthood. We talked about the great responsibility it is to hold keys and how special it is to belong to a quorum. At the conclusion of the little presentation, I asked him how many members he had in his quorum. His answer was 14.
Then the question: “How many are active?”
The answer: “12.”
Then I asked, “What about the other two?”
His response was, “I need to get to work and make them an active part of our quorum.”
I asked him how long that would take. He thought maybe three months. I encouraged him in his efforts.
Three months later, almost to the day, I received a letter from him informing me that all the members of his quorum were now active. He said he had befriended them, and one was now attending deacons quorum meetings, and the other had been ordained a teacher by the bishop. I was overwhelmed with his response. What an example of one honoring his priesthood and using priesthood keys to carry out an assignment the Lord has given him to fulfill. I could not help but marvel at the design the Lord has established for the administration of His work here on earth using the powers of the priesthood.

Not long ago I had the opportunity to return with Sister Wirthlin to the place where I began my mission. My assignment was to organize the Salzburg Austria Stake. In a way it was a coming home for me. I remembered the days that I walked those cobblestone streets and wondered if there ever would be enough members to form a small ward. And here I was, years later, organizing a stake. My heart filled to overflowing as I looked over that congregation of faithful members and as I remembered the time I spent there.
As I look back on it now, I wonder if those times of trial and loneliness weren’t instrumental in strengthening my character and heightening my desire to succeed. Those times of seeming failure may have been some of the most instrumental of my life, because they prepared me for greater things to come.
While there, I traveled with my wife to Oberndorf. We walked the same road my companion and I had walked so many years before. And there, before the majestic mountains and pristine beauty of that small Bavarian village, I related to her once again of the silent night when I described to my companion the woman I would marry.
The resolutions I made on that holy night in Oberndorf, Austria, have been a guiding force throughout my life. Although I still have much to learn and to accomplish, I’ve done my best to have faith in God; I’ve done my best to focus on the things that are important in life; I’ve done my best to work hard at righteous tasks; I’ve done my best to magnify the callings I’ve received in the Church; and I’ve done my best to enjoy the journey.
May you do the same as you create of your lives something worthy of your divine heritage.
I testify that the purpose of my mission in far-off Europe is the same now as it was then: to testify that we have a loving Heavenly Father and also His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ, who gave us the great Atonement. I testify that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God who received the fulness of the everlasting gospel and who established the Lord’s Church on the earth in these latter days. I bear witness that Gordon B. Hinckley is our prophet, seer, and revelator today.
As you pursue righteous desires, the Lord will be with you and will direct your paths. He wants you to be happy and successful. He wants you to come unto Him. May you find peace and joy in your journey throughout life.

As a new member of the Church, Soren knew little about the Church or its teachings. For the first month, he did not even attend church meetings. Finally, feeling obligated to learn what the gospel was about, he read a pamphlet about the Book of Mormon. From that small pamphlet he gained a testimony that the Book of Mormon truly is the word of God. That realization forever changed the course of Soren Edsberg’s life.

The last year of World War II was the very worst for Holland. The Nazis took everything. There was no coal to heat their house. Grace couldn’t go to school. She and her family had to eat tulip bulbs to keep from starving. They tasted horrible! Worst of all, Dad was still a prisoner of war.

But people were hopeful. Some said the Nazis were losing the war. And in May of 1945, the Nazis finally surrendered. Holland was free again! People celebrated in the streets. Now Grace could go back to school. There were no soldiers to be afraid of.

Best of all, one day when Grace and her brothers were walking back from school, they saw that the flag of Holland was flying in front of their home. Could it mean … ?

“Dad’s home!” shouted Heber.

Grace and her brothers ran inside. Grace threw her arms around Dad and gave him a big hug. He hugged her back tightly. It was so wonderful to have him home.

Soon after that, packages of food, clothes, and medicine began arriving in Holland. The Church leaders in Salt Lake City sent a lot of supplies to help people after the war. Grace even got a new dress! She had worn the same dress for five years, so she was very happy to have a new one.

For the first time in years, Grace had enough to eat. The mission presidency and the government in Holland decided to start a potato project to grow more food. Church members planted lots of potatoes in nearby fields. By fall they would have thousands of potatoes to eat.

“Look!” Grace told Dad, pointing to a sprouting potato plant. “We’ll never go hungry again!”

Dad nodded but didn’t smile. He said, “President Zappey told me that the Latter-day Saints in Germany are still starving, just like we were. They are not getting help from the government like we are.” Dad put his arm around Grace’s shoulders. “President Zappey has asked if we would give our potatoes to the German Saints.”

“Give up our potatoes!” Grace cried. But the Nazis were from Germany!

“I know it’s not easy,” Dad said. “But the people from Germany are also children of God. He loves them too. I forgave the Nazis for making me a prisoner. The Lord can help us all forgive.”

Grace looked up at Dad. He was the bravest person she knew, but she didn’t know if she had the courage to forgive like him. Then she remembered one of her teachers in school during the war. Her teacher had said that not all Germans were Nazis, and not all Nazi soldiers were bad. And now the girls and boys in Germany were starving, just like Grace had been.

Grace took a deep breath. “I understand,” she said. “Let’s give them our potatoes.”

Dad hugged her and smiled. “You are such a brave girl. This is a hard thing to do. But we are disciples of Jesus Christ, and so are our German brothers and sisters.”

Grace smiled. The angry feelings in her heart melted, and she felt calm and warm. She could forgive the Germans. And Jesus could help her love them too.

Latter-day Saints in Holland gave 140,000 pounds (70 tons) of potatoes and 180,000 pounds (90 tons) of fish to the German Latter-day Saints. Later, in 1953, the German Saints sent supplies to Church members in Holland after a huge flood.

President Hinckley: … She has run the house all these years. When our children were growing up, I was away much of the time on Church assignments. In the early days, when I had responsibility for the work in Asia, which I had for a long time, I would be gone for as long as two months at a time. We couldn’t telephone back and forth all the time in those days. She took care of everything. She ran the home. She ran everything and took care of the children.

We had a garden in our backyard. When I came home from one of my long assignments, I found that it had all been planted to lawn. She and the children had spaded up that backyard, sown lawn seed, and there was a beautiful lawn! The garden didn’t suffer, because we could plant another garden to the south of us. But that whole backyard became a beautiful patch of lawn.

That’s typical of the way she did things. She was independent and had a great eye for beauty.

While teaching the Saints in Costa Rica, I held up a copy of Teaching, No Greater Call and asked, “So how many of you have a copy of this manual?” Nearly everyone raised a hand. With a smile, I said, “And I bet you’re reading it every single day.” To my surprise, a sister on the front row raised her hand, indicating that she was reading it every day. I asked her to come to the podium and explain. She responded, “I read the Book of Mormon every morning. Then I read something in Teaching, No Greater Call so I can teach my children in the very best way what I’ve just learned.”
She wanted to learn and teach His word in His way, so she studied His word in the scriptures and then studied how to teach His word so that her children could be fully converted. Her pattern of gospel learning and teaching did not happen, I believe, all at once. She made a decision to do something. And the more she did what she knew she should do, the more the Lord strengthened her to walk in His way.

When Peggy told me her husband, John, after 31 years of marriage, was going to be baptized, I asked what had changed.

Peggy said, “John and I were studying the New Testament Come, Follow Me, and John asked about Church doctrine.”

Peggy said, “Let’s invite the missionaries.”

John said, “No missionaries—unless my friend can come.” Over 10 years, John’s ministering brother had become his trusted friend. (I thought, What if John’s ministering brother had stopped coming after one, two, or nine years?)

John listened. He read the Book of Mormon with real intent. When the missionaries invited John to be baptized, he said yes. Peggy said, “I fell off my chair and started to cry.”

John said, “I changed as I drew closer to the Lord.” Later, John and Peggy were sealed in the holy temple. Last December, John passed away at age 92. Peggy says, “John was always a good person, but he became different in a beautiful way after he was baptized.”

Recent floods had caused devastation in Kerala. The Kerala flood relief camp was organized by our Bengaluru Stake to provide relief to people in the Wyanad area. I accompanied other Saints of our stake to offer humanitarian aid.
One morning as I was at the relief camp, I read a message on the ward’s WhatsApp group. I felt shocked after reading the message that Brother Michael’s health was in serious condition, and he was taken to his native place, Madurai, Tamil Nadu, for hospitalization. I offered a silent prayer for his health to improve and that I would get an opportunity to visit him. Brother Michael and Sister Rabi were diligent members in attending the regional language Sunday School in our ward.
The very next Sunday after returning from relief work, Brother Karthikeyan approached me and asked me if I would be interested to join with him to visit Brother Michael. I immediately accepted the offer to visit and was so happy. We travelled by train and reached Madurai the next day morning. We then went from the railway station straight away to the Madurai Meenakshi Mission Hospital. Before we reached hospital, we heard his second son, Allwyn, was also admitted in the same hospital in a different ward due to his health problem. The same morning we visited both of these brethren. They were lying on their beds, and Brother Michael’s condition was very critical. He was not able to recognize who we were, and the doctors were not able to let us know his condition. All they told us was that he needed to be in medical observation—which means each part of his body function needed to be observed. We as priesthood brethren administered priesthood blessings with faith to both father and son, and we comforted Sister Rabi and their older son.
We then headed to the train station where we refreshed ourselves at the railway station waiting room, and we headed to visit a nearby place in the local train. While we were halfway there, Brother Karthikeyan told me that we need to head back to the hospital. It was purely an inspiration. We reached the hospital and to our surprise, for we just could not believe our own eyes, Brother Michael had gotten up from his bed and was sitting. What a miracle! He was unable to get up from his bed before, but he was able to now. Our beloved Heavenly Father, through the Holy Spirit, had blessed him.
Now the same day in the evening he was able to recognize who we were, and he spoke to us a few words. I was able to shoot some videos with him, and when I asked him what he would like to convey to our ward members, he showed a “thumbs up” sign and asked me share the videos I recorded of him in the hospital to the regional language Sunday School class members.
Yet another miracle happened with the blessing of the priesthood, and this didn’t end with him. Afterward we visited his son Allwyn. He told us that the doctors wanted him to get discharged the next day, while his health was fine and he had recovered sufficiently to go home.
“Ministering and exercising the priesthood at the right time with faith brings blessings. I believe blessings to others will never stop . . . miracles will never cease.”

In October 2019, Abraham returned to the United States. One Sunday, he was teaching a lesson at church. There was a man in the class that got up and went out. Unknown to Abraham, this man was a doctor and had called an ambulance. He recognized that Abraham was exhibiting signs of a stroke. The family is so grateful their father went to church that day and that the doctor was there too. Even though he is currently down with a stroke and uses a wheelchair, he still sees himself as blessed and he’s forever grateful to Heavenly Father.

Crack!
“Oops …”
“Ah! Why me?!?”
“Mami, what’s wrong?”
“Abuela is sick.”
“Why is everything so hard? Why are so many bad things happening?”
“I think we could both use a walk.”
“Oh, Eduardo, it’s going to be OK. But remember what the Lord says: ‘Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee’ (Isaiah 41:10).”
“Will Abuela get better?”
“I hope so, but I also believe that Heavenly Father knows what’s best.”
“Thanks, Mami. I needed that.”

Thunk. Erik heard the lacrosse ball land in his teammate Cody’s stick. He instantly turned and raced to the other team’s goal. Catching Cody’s eye, he raised his stick, caught the ball from Cody, and sent it sailing into the goal.
“Score!” Erik’s team began cheering before the goalie even saw the ball in his goal. They had won, 5–2!
His teammates high-fived and shouted congratulations. Erik couldn’t stop grinning. When he’d moved to his new school, Erik had worried he wouldn’t make friends. But his lacrosse teammates had been nice to him from the start, helping him find his classes and saving him a seat at lunch.
After the game, Cody invited everyone over to his house for pizza. Still in their sweaty jerseys and grass-stained pants, the boys gathered in Cody’s basement, going over the game and their best plays. The smell of pepperoni pizza filled the air, and Erik grabbed a large slice and a soda.
After a while, things quieted down, and Erik noticed a group of boys on the couch gathered around Cody’s phone. “What’re you looking at?” Erik asked.
Cody smiled as he pushed his phone in Erik’s face. “You’ll love this. Look.”
Erik flinched, then turned away. It was the kind of photo he knew he shouldn’t look at. This is pornography, Erik thought. “I don’t want to see it.”
“Then how about this one, or this one, or this one?” Cody said, as he scrolled through more pictures.
“I don’t want to see any of them.” Erik backed away.
The rest of the boys joined in with Cody. “C’mon, there aren’t any adults around. Your parents will never know.”
“Don’t be a baby. Everybody looks at this stuff.”
“Aren’t you even a little curious?”
Erik was curious. But he’d been taught that looking at pictures of people without clothes on was wrong. If he was curious, he needed to talk to his parents about it.
“Can’t we do something else?” he pleaded.
The boys agreed to turn on a movie, and Erik moved to the back of the room, trying to become invisible.
Just a few minutes into the movie, Erik felt uncomfortable when more bad images filled the screen. He slowly stood up, mumbling, “I think I’ll go home now.”
None of the other boys seemed to notice as Erik walked up the stairs and slipped out the front door.
Squinting into the afternoon sun, Erik began walking home. He felt tired, sweaty, and lonely, but he also felt peaceful. He felt good about his decision. And when he told his parents about the afternoon, they hugged him and told him they were proud of him.
At school on Monday, Erik thought the boys would have forgotten about the weekend. But when he walked to his usual seat at the lunch table, Cody teased, “Was the movie too scary? Did you have to go home to your mama?”
“You might want to sit somewhere else,” another boy said. “What we’re talking about is too mature for you.”
As the days and weeks went on, the boys kept teasing Erik. They still passed the ball to him and complimented him on good plays. But they didn’t invite him to post-game parties.
After the last game of the season, Cody caught up with Erik. “You could come to the party, but you’d probably have to call your mommy. See ya.”
Once again, Erik rode home with his dad. “I thought things would be different by now. I thought the boys would respect me. I thought they might even change what they watch because of my example. Aren’t we supposed to be blessed for doing what’s right?”
Dad nodded. He was silent for a minute, then said, “We are always blessed when we follow Christ, but sometimes we aren’t blessed in the way we expect. You know Mom and I pay tithing every month, but I still lost my job last year and we had trouble paying our bills. We were blessed, but not with money. You chose the right, and while that doesn’t mean you’ll be blessed with friends, you will be worthy to pass the sacrament when you turn 12 next year. And you’ll be worthy to go to the temple.”
Erik nodded. “I know you’re right. But I’m still really lonely at school.”
“You’ll make good friends, but it might take some time,” Dad said. “And remember, every good person stands alone at times. Christ stood alone. You can turn to Him when you need help.”
Erik bit his lip and stared out the window.
“Do you know why we’re careful about what we read, watch, and listen to?” Dad asked.
“Because we want to have the Holy Ghost with us?”
“Exactly,” Dad said. “Pornography offends the Holy Ghost. Trust me, you want the Holy Ghost as your friend. He will help you with everything you do. You also have your mom and me and your siblings. We love you. We will always want to spend time with you.”
Dad reached over and ruffled Erik’s hair. “It’s not the team party,” Dad said, “but we could stop and get ice cream to share with the family when we get home.”
Erik smiled back at Dad. “That sounds better than the team party.”

I am acquainted with a family which came to America from Germany. The English language was difficult for them. They had but little by way of means, but each was blessed with the will to work and with a love of God.

Their third child was born, lived but two months, and then died. Father was a cabinetmaker and fashioned a beautiful casket for the body of his precious child. The day of the funeral was gloomy, thus reflecting the sadness they felt in their loss. As the family walked to the chapel, with Father carrying the tiny casket, a small number of friends had gathered. However, the chapel door was locked. The busy bishop had forgotten the funeral. Attempts to reach him were futile. Not knowing what to do, the father placed the casket under his arm and, with his family beside him, carried it home, walking in a drenching rain.

If the family were of a lesser character, they could have blamed the bishop and harbored ill feelings. When the bishop discovered the tragedy, he visited the family and apologized. With the hurt still evident in his expression, but with tears in his eyes, the father accepted the apology, and the two embraced in a spirit of understanding. No hidden wedge was left to cause further feelings of anger. Love and acceptance prevailed.

Years ago I visited a school in Albuquerque. The teacher told me about a youngster who brought a kitten to class. As you can imagine, that disrupted everything. She had him hold the kitten up in front of the children.

It went well until one of the children asked, “Is it a boy kitty or a girl kitty?”

Not wanting to get into that lesson, the teacher said, “It doesn’t matter. It’s just a kitty.”

But they persisted. Finally, one boy raised his hand and said, “I know how you can tell.”

Resigned to face it, the teacher said, “How can you tell?”

And the student answered, “You can vote on it!”

You may laugh at this story, but if we are not alert, there are those today who not only tolerate but advocate voting to change laws that would legalize immorality, as if a vote would somehow alter the designs of God’s laws and nature. A law against nature would be impossible to enforce. For instance, what good would a vote against the law of gravity do?

As a young girl growing up in communist Czechoslovakia, I was always trying to discover the purpose of my life. As I looked at my parents and at other adults around me, I wondered: Is this the life I will have to live after finishing school? Will I always be tired, unhappy, without any freedom? Life seemed meaningless.
I didn’t believe in God, because nobody had ever taught me about him. In fact, the communists taught us in school that there is no God, no life after death, and no spirit. So why do I live? I wondered. Without a purpose in life, I did not have any desire to be better. I was very unhappy.
One day in 1989, while I was a student at a university, one of my schoolmates took me to a meeting where a small group of young people were listening to the words of an older man. He spoke with great authority, and I was impressed. I learned that he was Otakar Vojkuvka from Brno, Czechoslovakia, and that he was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. As he spoke about God and about the purpose of our lives, I knew he was telling the truth. His words were medicine for my spirit! I was so happy.
Suddenly I knew that I was not a worthless piece of matter living just by chance—but that I was actually a child of God! I received the Book of Mormon, read it, and had no doubts about its truthfulness. And as I discovered these truths, I had the feeling that I had known these things before. It seemed to me that I was awakening, taking off dark glasses, and seeing the truth clearly.
At that time, missionaries were not allowed in Czechoslovakia. But that fall, Czechs gained freedom through the “velvet revolution,” and the Church received official recognition in the country in March 1990. I was baptized in May of that year.
My life totally changed. It became a joy to study, because now there was purpose in life. I made many friends, tried to be a better person and to do what is right, and started to realize what it means to be happy. I finally knew why I was alive.
With this new-found happiness and purpose, I had great desires to serve a mission. In May 1992, two years after my baptism, I received a call to serve a mission in my native Czechoslovakia. Soon I found myself standing with my suitcases at the bus station in my first city, which was not too far from my home. I was really happy on my mission. I learned patience and tolerance—and had the wonderful privilege of sharing with others what I had learned about the purpose and meaning of life.
Now I have completed my full-time mission and live in Prague, Czech Republic. Occasionally I see people I taught as a missionary, some of whom were baptized. We are still friends. I am happy now because I know what love, charity, and service are. I want to live in such a way that I can fulfill the meaning of my life on this earth. And that is possible only through the gospel of Jesus Christ.

I visited a ward in the Altiplano of Bolivia. It is a very poor area. The people speak Spanish and Quechua, but most of them do not know how to read either language because they have never had the opportunity to learn. After the meeting, I talked with an eleven-year-old boy. On the wall of the building were pictures of the members of the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. This young boy pointed to each of the Brethren and named every one of them. Then he said to me, “Will you please tell President Benson that I am reading the Book of Mormon.” He was learning to read by reading the Book of Mormon. I said to him, “Let me see if you really know how to read by reading 1 Nephi 3:7 [1 Ne. 3:7].” He turned to it quickly and said, “I can read it, but I don’t need to because I know that scripture by heart.” He then recited it perfectly.

Stumbling blocks can be complex; let me illustrate.
Many years ago my father built a small cabin on part of the ranch property where he had been raised. The vistas across the meadows were exceptional. When the walls were framed in for the cabin, I made a visit. I was surprised that the window with the view focused directly on a power pole that was a short distance from the house. To me, it was a huge distraction from the magnificent view.
I said, “Dad, why did you let them put the power pole directly in front of your view from the window?”
My father, an exceptionally practical and calm man, exclaimed with some emotion, “Quentin, that power pole is the most beautiful thing to me on the entire ranch!” He then made his case: “When I look at that pole, I realize that, unlike when I grew up here, I will not have to carry water in containers from the spring up to the house to cook, wash my hands, or bathe. I will not have to light candles or oil lamps at night to read. I want to see that power pole right in the middle of the view window.”
My father had a different perspective on the power pole than I did. To him that pole represented an improved life, but to me it was a stumbling block to a magnificent vista. My dad valued power, light, and cleanliness above an aesthetic view. I immediately realized that while the pole was a stumbling block for me, it had great practical, symbolic meaning to my father.
My father saw the pole as a means of providing power, light, and abundant water for cooking and cleansing. It was a stepping-stone to improving his life.

Mother couldn’t help noticing the serious, thoughtful look on Eric’s face as they drove home from church. “How was Primary today, Eric?”
“Fine.”
“What did you learn today?” Mother asked.
“We talked about choosing the right in our class, and Sharing Time was about temples.”
“I can’t think of anything more special to talk about than temples,” Mother cheerfully replied. But she noticed that the faraway look was still in Eric’s eyes as they pulled into the driveway. “After you change your clothes, would you please help me set the table for dinner?” she asked.
As they were setting the table, Eric asked, “You and Dad were married in the temple, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So that means I’m sealed to you for eternity?”
“Right again,” Mother replied.
“I won’t get to go inside the temple until I’m grown up, will I?”
Mother reminded Eric that his brother, Nathan, who was twelve and a deacon, had gone to the temple the month before and had been baptized for the dead, and how he, Eric, could do that, too, when he was twelve and held the Aaronic Priesthood. She also told him that when he was nineteen and ordained an elder, he could go through the temple for his own endowments before leaving on his mission.
Eric smiled at Mother, “I’m really looking forward to doing both of those things, but it’s not the same as what Joey did. When Sister Jones asked today in Sharing Time if anyone had a special experience to tell about the temple, Joey told about the missionaries teaching his family and about their baptism. He said that a year after they were baptized, they went to the temple as a family and were sealed together. He told about how beautiful the temple is inside and about how special it was to be dressed all in white and kneel down by the altar with his mom and dad and brothers and sisters.
“Mom, that sounds so exciting! I wish I had a story about the temple that I could share.”
Mother’s eyes sparkled. “You do, Eric. I’ll tell you all about it after dinner.”
Mother always fixed someone’s favorite dinner on Sunday, and of course the best part was dessert. Today, though, Eric was anxious for a different kind of after-dinner treat. It made his day when his older sister, Angie, and Dad volunteered to clean up the dishes so that Mother could tell him the special temple story right away.
They went to the family room, and Mother pulled her book of remembrance from a shelf and turned to a picture of a man with white hair and a white beard. She told Eric, “Welcome Chapman was my grandmother’s grandfather. While still a young man, Welcome heard rumors of a Joseph Smith, who was living in western New York, and who claimed to have a golden book that was given to him by an angel, and to have had visions and revelations. He also claimed that he had seen Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father. He said that They had instructed him to organize a new church.
Eric looked up at the picture on the wall of the Salt Lake Temple with a new feeling of reverence. He felt proud that one of his ancestors had cut stone for the beautiful temple. He also felt proud as he thought of the good and faithful life Welcome had lived.
Eric gave Mother a big hug and kiss and thanked her for telling him about Grandpa Welcome. “You know, Mom, not only do I have a temple story to share, but I also have a neat Grandpa that I didn’t know about before. I want to live my life like Grandpa Welcome did and do what Jesus wants me to do so I can go to the temple someday too.”

The Thomas J. Pappas Elementary School in Phoenix, Arizona, isn’t a typical school. At the end of the day, students don’t go home, because they don’t have homes. After school, the buses drop them off at various homeless shelters, old hotels, or even under bridges.
When the stake youth committee of the Mesa Central Stake learned about this school, they wanted to do something for the students. They wanted to give them a day of fun and activities, so they planned a carnival with games, sports, and food. But the youth of the stake found that they gained much more than they gave.
On the morning of the activity, anticipation was high. What would students from a homeless school be like? What would they talk about? How would they act?
The youth from the stake were each partnered with a student from the school as a “buddy,” or mentor, for the day. After eating breakfast with their new friends, everyone was divided into groups to rotate through the different activities.
Most of the youth who participated in this activity had the same observation—in their efforts to give, they had received. They came away from the activity more grateful for their blessings. In their efforts to provide a day of entertainment for homeless children, they learned a valuable lesson in gratitude.