Gospel Story Finder

After the family had settled in Columbus, Elder Russell’s father had a nervous breakdown. “To restore my father’s health, we moved to a place called Salt Creek and camped there,” Elder Russell continued. “There were four of us: Father, Mother, my two-year-old brother, and myself. It was a very good time for me because my father and I spent a lot of time fishing and just being together. And although I was young, I had more responsibilities because of my father’s condition.
“That fall I went to school in Londonderry, Ohio, in a one-room schoolhouse where three grades met together. All summer long and into the fall I went barefoot—all the boys did. When the tall grass was mowed, the stubble hurt our feet, but we got used to it.”

I have a very good friend who served as a Congregational minister for over 26 years. He had one of the largest churches on Long Island, New York, at one time. He became acquainted with the Mormons by visiting Salt Lake City and receiving visits from Latter-day Saint missionaries in his home. He developed a great admiration for the programs of the Church, primarily because of the fruits he saw that were produced by the Church. So he thought to borrow these programs and adopt them into his own church, which he tried to do. But he found that they did not work. His statement to me was:
“It was somewhat of a jolt to discover that the genius of Mormonism was in its theology, not its methodology, and that the amazing vitality of the Church sprang from the commitment of its members to the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ received by revelation. It became obvious that one could not have the fruits of Mormonism without its roots.” (John F. Heidenreich, “It May Change Your Life.”)

Jim Turner, an artist from the Lismore Ward in the Gold Coast Australia Stake, has achieved a milestone in his artistic journey. His oil painting The 1988 Bicentennial Naval Review will soon be on permanent display at the Royal Australian Navy Heritage Centre, the Maritime Museum of the Royal Australian Navy in Sydney. This monumental work, measuring 12 feet (3.6 m) long by 5 feet (1.5 m) high, includes a life-size portrait of Vice Admiral M. W. Hudson, who served as the Chief of Naval Staff in 1988.
The Bicentennial Naval Review was a historic event held in 1988 to commemorate the 200th anniversary of the First Fleet’s arrival in Sydney. This grand occasion saw ships from Australia and around the world gather in Sydney Harbour in a spectacular display of maritime history and tradition. It showcased the nation’s heritage and its connection to the sea.
Born in New South Wales, Brother Turner felt inspired by this event, recognizing its importance to Australian history. He was determined to create a work of art that would capture not only the grandeur of the naval review but also the spirit of unity it evoked.
Completed on November 4, 1988, The 1988 Bicentennial Naval Review was publicly exhibited only once, during a week-long exhibition that opened on December 3, 1988, by Senator Bronwyn Bishop. For years afterward, the painting awaited a permanent home where it could be appreciated by the public.
In 2024, Brother Turner was inspired to find a suitable home for his work. Through persistence and prayer, he contacted the Royal Australian Navy Heritage Centre. Although the museum was undergoing renovations, the centre accepted the painting for display in its new facility, which reopened in February 2025.
The museum will include Jim’s painting among its exhibits documenting the history of the Royal Australian Navy, from the First Fleet to the present day. Brother Turner’s painting will enrich the museum’s collection and the public’s understanding of this pivotal moment in Australia’s maritime history.
Brother Turner’s journey with this painting is a testimony of faith, persistence, and divine guidance.
Brother Turner reflects on the role of divine guidance throughout his journey. “I felt prompted to find a suitable home for people to view my painting of the Bicentennial Naval Review,” he said. “I have a firm testimony that if we do all that we possibly can, the Lord will provide the way and the means for us to accomplish whatever He has asked us to do.”
For Brother Turner, this painting is more than a depiction of a national event; it is a manifestation of faith and perseverance. He likens this experience to life’s daily challenges: “Be it a major work, like a 12-foot-long painting, or just completing simple daily tasks, [life is] made easier through the guidance of the Spirit.”

Eight-year-old Porter Ashby was having a bad day. He wasn’t in the mood to be at the children’s hospital—again. From the time Porter was a baby, he had a very serious hearing loss. He couldn’t hear his mom calling his name or someone banging on pots and pans. The doctors gave Porter hearing aids, but they were uncomfortable and didn’t help him hear much better.
When Porter was three years old, he went to the hospital and had an operation to get a cochlear implant in his left ear. Porter was excited about all the new sounds he could hear.
Since then, Porter has gone back to the hospital many times so the doctors can find out how well his implant is working. Usually this is fun. He gets to see his friends at the hospital and play games while the nurses test his hearing.
But not today. Porter had already been at the hospital for several hours. He had already played the games and answered the questions the nurse asked him. He was tired and ready to go home.
Then the doctor wanted to test how well Porter was pronouncing words. He asked Porter to sing “Happy Birthday.”
Porter said he didn’t feel like singing that song, so the doctor asked him what song he would like to sing.
Porter remembered that he had been learning “Called to Serve” in Primary. It was his favorite song, so he sang both verses.
“That was amazing, Porter,” the doctor said. “What a wonderful song!”
By then Porter was feeling much better. When all the tests were finished, the doctor called one of the nurses in. “Porter just sang an amazing song. Will you sing it again for the nurse, Porter?”
Porter was happy to do it. He sang his favorite song again, smiling from ear to ear.

On my first Sunday in a new ward, I was overwhelmed with gratitude when I left Relief Society feeling actual relief!
For a few years before, I had struggled to feel like I was connecting with other sisters at church. I often felt out of place and lonely in Relief Society, but I was at a loss over how to improve my situation.
Camille N. Johnson, Relief Society General President, describes relief as “the removal or lightening of something painful, troubling, or burdensome, or the strength to endure it.” In this new Relief Society, my loneliness and stress lessened, and I felt resolve to carry on through my personal trials. I felt rest.
Over time, I observed that it was a few Christlike individuals in this ward who significantly impacted the atmosphere of Relief Society and made it a loving and accepting environment. They had three things in common they each did to help others feel welcome and comfortable in our meetings, and their examples inspired me to do the same. I eventually came to see that I had more influence over my and others’ experiences at church than I had previously thought.
Consistently attending ward activities, getting to know others, and sharing your thoughts in lessons will not only help you feel a sense of belonging but will also have an impact on those around you. The individuals I mentioned earlier were consistent. I was willing to attend Relief Society and ward activities because I could count on them to be there and knew they would continue to embrace me. Through your consistency, you may become a lifeline for someone without even knowing it—like these individuals were for me.
Those who have consistently reached out to me at church have taught me what it looks like to be an answer to prayer and a Christlike ministering sister. Their examples have inspired me to do my part in making Relief Society a place of true relief.

This story happened in Nicaragua.
Vanessa waved goodbye to Mami and walked into the church building. Some of her friends were already here! She loved Primary activities.
Sister Fonseca was setting up a craft table. There were ribbons, colored strings, and stickers. Vanessa couldn’t wait to find out what they would be making!
After the prayer, Sister Fonseca gave some instructions. “Today we will make gift bags. You can give them to someone you love.” She handed a brown paper bag to each child.
Vanessa was excited to start decorating. She chose a yellow heart sticker and put it on the front of the bag.
Next, Vanessa folded a paper to make a card. “You are a child of God,” she wrote. She drew lots of stars and hearts on it.
Sister Lopez passed out some cookies and cupcakes to put inside their bags. Vanessa put the card inside too. Perfect!
Soon Mami came to pick her up. “Look!” Vanessa held her bag up for Mami to see. “It’s to give to someone special.”
“Beautiful!” Mami said. “Who will you give it to?”
“I don’t know,” Vanessa said. “I want to give it to someone who needs love.” Then Vanessa had an idea. “Can we go for a walk to find someone to give it to?”
“Sure,” Mami said. “Let’s go!”
Vanessa held Mami’s hand and carried her bag of love in her other hand. They turned down a quiet street. Maybe someone here needs love, Vanessa thought.
But as they walked, Vanessa frowned. There was no one on the street!
“Let’s try going this way.” Mami led Vanessa down another road. But again, no one was outside.
Vanessa sighed. “What should we do?” she asked.
“Why don’t you say a prayer in your mind?” Mami said. “Ask Heavenly Father to guide you to someone you can help.”
They turned down one more street, and Vanessa said a silent prayer. Heavenly Father, please help me find someone who needs some love.
A few minutes later, Vanessa saw a little boy walking on the sidewalk.
Vanessa’s face lit up with a smile. “Hi,” she said to him. “I want to give this to you.” She held out the bag.
At first, the boy looked confused.
“It’s OK. You can take it,” Mami said gently.
Slowly, the boy reached out and took the bag. A big smile spread across his face.
“I made it for you with a lot of love,” Vanessa said.
Vanessa felt happy as she watched the boy run back to his house. She knew he was special to Heavenly Father.
How did Vanessa share Heavenly Father’s love?
Illustrations by Vicky Scott

As I’ve reflected on this experience, I’ve quizzed myself, How well do I remember those two memorization requirements? I discovered I could still name the Twelve Apostles that existed at that time—Rudger Clawson, Reed Smoot, George Albert Smith, George F. Richards, David O. McKay, Joseph Fielding Smith, Stephen L Richards, Richard R. Lyman, Melvin J. Ballard, John A. Widtsoe, Joseph F. Merrill, and Charles A. Callis. But after the first five articles of faith, I had trouble remembering their order and their full content. I needed a refresher course! I photocopied the Articles of Faith from the scriptures and taped them to the wall of my bathroom where I could see them each morning as I was brushing my teeth and shaving. Within a very few days, I again had them firmly in mind. This experience has brought a deep conviction to me that they were given by revelation to the Prophet Joseph Smith. I reached the conclusion that if I studied the content of each of the Articles of Faith, I could explain and defend every gospel principle I might have the opportunity to expound to someone searching for the restored truth.

“Please, Mom, can we invite Sister Fuhriman just one more time?” Greg pleaded. His younger brothers’ anxious faces poked out from behind Greg like pegs on a coat rack.
“It will be Christmas Eve, and she shouldn’t be alone,” Layne said. Scott and Jim nodded.
“You know how many times we have tried to invite Sister Fuhriman to our house,” Mom said. “She rarely goes out. But you may invite her for Christmas Eve if you like.”
The boys cheered and bounded outside.
Soon the door burst open again. “It’s a miracle, Mom!” Greg called. “She said she’d love to come. Isn’t that great?”
The next day snow started falling. Greg knew that Sister Fuhriman avoided going outside in bad weather, even to the mailbox. “Do you think she will still come tomorrow?” Greg asked. Mom wasn’t sure.
On Christmas Eve, Aunt Carolyn and her three children arrived just as Layne finished cleaning up the kitchen after dinner. “Can we go get Sister Fuhriman now?” Layne asked.
“All right,” Dad said. “Remember to help her as she walks across the road. It’s slick outside.”
“We will, Dad,” Scott said.
“And if she decides not to come after all, don’t make her feel bad about not coming,” Dad said.
“We won’t, Dad,” Greg said. The boys stepped outside into the snow-covered landscape. The snow had stopped falling, and there was still a little daylight to show them the way.
Eight-year-old Adam was helping Bekah and Jill get into their costumes for the family Christmas pageant when the boys stepped through the door—helping Sister Fuhriman inside! She smiled cheerily, her cheeks bright from the cold. The family tried not to seem so surprised that their guest of honor had really come.
Dad made Sister Fuhriman feel welcome and helped her choose a seat next to Mom. Greg slipped out of his coat and sat at the piano. After an opening prayer, he began to play Christmas hymns softly. Scott read from the Bible as the younger children acted out the story of the first Christmas. Wearing a bathrobe, three-year-old Bekah reverently played the part of Mary while Dan pretended to be Joseph. Jill played the part of an angel with a gold garland pinned in her hair. Cousins played shepherds and Wise Men, all come to worship the infant King.
Soon the strains of “Silent Night” faded, and the reverence of the sacred story gave way to hugs, smiles, and compliments all around. To finish off the night, they enjoyed Mom’s warm cinnamon rolls. All too soon, the evening was over.
The boys again put on their coats, hats, and mittens to escort Sister Fuhriman across the road. The glow of the porch light pushed away the darkness, making their walk across the snow-packed country road pleasant in spite of the cold.
“Good night, Sister Fuhriman,” Greg called as he and his brothers turned back toward their house.
“Merry Christmas,” Sister Fuhriman called. “And thank you.”
Greg glanced over his shoulder just before he stepped back into his house. Sister Fuhriman was still on her porch, watching. She waved.* * *
Some months went by, and the family moved to a different town. The following December, Greg came into the house carrying an envelope. “We got a letter from Sister Fuhriman,” he called. He tore it open and read:
“I will miss your family this Christmas. I don’t believe I ever told you how much I enjoyed Christmas Eve in your home. I must tell you now what I did not tell you then.
“Some years before you moved into the house across the road from me, I had a dream. I could see your house, all lit up and glowing. When I awoke from that dream, I had the most wonderful, happy, peaceful feeling—something I had not experienced very often since my husband’s death.
“Months went by, and I forgot all about my dream. Then came your invitation for Christmas Eve. I had such a wonderful time sharing in your family celebration.
“After the boys walked me back home, I stood on my porch to make sure they returned home safely. Just then I noticed your house all aglow. It was the same picture I had seen in my dream years ago, and I had the very same feeling of peace. I just wanted you to know how I appreciated you.”
As Greg read Sister Fuhriman’s words, he remembered the warmth he had felt that night. He was grateful his family had shared their celebration with Sister Fuhriman, bringing her Christmas comfort and joy.
“Christmas is more than trees and twinkling lights. … It is peace.”President Gordon B. Hinckley, “A Season for Gratitude,” Liahona, Dec. 1997, 6; Ensign, Dec. 1997, 4.

I remember a young couple just out of college. One parent gave them a home; the other parent gave them furnishings and a new car. They had everything in the world given to them. Within three years they were divorced. They hadn’t worked and sacrificed. They had leaned on each other and on their parents as a crutch, had crippled themselves, and hadn’t grown. They hadn’t learned the hard part. They hadn’t worried about making their marriage work. Make sure you sacrifice, share, and grow together.

When I was a small boy, even too young to go to school, I lived on a farm with my aunt and uncle in Burley, Idaho. My uncle had a dog named Shepherd that I loved with all my heart. Shepherd was getting old when our friendship started, but we still spent hundreds of hours together. We dreamed our dreams, and we accomplished great feats within our little kingdom.
But Shepherd, my true and loving companion, was moving through life much faster than I was. After a while, I noticed that he no longer wanted to bark at the ducks, jump across ditch banks, or follow me out to the green alfalfa field. He was content to simply lie in the shade by the house and watch me come and go. Although I respected his wishes, I missed the times we had shared.
One morning my uncle came to me and said, “Francis, Shepherd is very, very old, and he is ill.”
“What can I do to help him get better?” I asked.
“He can’t get better,” was my uncle’s reply. “We have to take him to the animal doctor so his pain and suffering will last no longer.”
Running to Shepherd, I knew I would have to say good-bye forever to the friend I loved so dearly. Locking my arms around his neck, I was determined to protect him, as he had so often protected me.
I remembered the time he had saved me from an angry, charging, muskrat. And how, after a few loud barks from my faithful friend, a man-eating water snake changed its course, leaving me happy to be alive.
But my strength and size were no match for the mature strength of my uncle, who with loving care and understanding pried me loose from old Shepherd. Frantically I tried to regain hold of my friend. As I grabbed him, a tuft of hair came off in my hand.
Unable to control the pressure in my small body, heartbroken sobs came from deep within my soul. My battle was lost; my beloved pet would be gone forever.
Sorrow filled my young life. There was no joy because there was no hope I’d ever see Shepherd again. I lost all interest in adventuring to the apple orchard, watching white fluffy clouds, or playing in the big tree.
A few days later, my uncle asked me if I would like to go to Park Valley with him while he rode for cattle. Usually when my uncle went to Park Valley, I loved to go with him. I’d spend long hours with my cousin, exploring old barns, bird’s nests, and cedar draws (shallow ravines). But now my heart wasn’t in it. I said, “Thanks, but I don’t feel like going.”
“Well, Francis, it’s up to you,” he replied. “But you can be miserable there just as well as here. Besides, it will be a good change of scenery.”
I wasn’t sure he was right, but I finally decided to go.
We were quiet as we climbed into the truck. I knew that my uncle was trying to think of something to say that would make me feel better. Finally he spoke. “Francis, do you see that outcrop of rocks along the ridge of that mountain?”
“Yes,” I replied, puzzled. I had seen that ridge many times, and I wondered why he wanted me to look at it again.
“If you could see old Shepherd now, he would probably be on that ridge, running like the wind. He’d be free from all the aches and pains he suffered.”
I asked, “How could Shepherd be dead and still run along the crest of that rimrock?”
“When Old Shepherd died,” he replied, “his spirit became separated from his body. His mortal body was buried, but his spirit body didn’t die. Spirits are always alive.”
So that’s how Shepherd can run and jump now, I thought happily as my mind locked onto this new and exciting idea. Then I asked, “If I could see Shepherd’s spirit, could I hug him around the neck and could he lick me on the cheek?”
“No,” my uncle said. “We can’t feel a spirit because spirits are made of a material different from mortal bodies.”
My young heart grew heavy again. What fun would Shepherd be if I could never give him a hug, or scratch him, or wrestle with him. Would I never be able to have those experiences with my beloved dog again? Sadly I asked, “Will I ever be able to touch old Shepherd again, or will we only be able to sit around and look at each other?”
Smiling, my uncle said, “The time will come when you will be able to feel him bump against you and feel him lick your hand.”
Suddenly I felt happier than I had for a whole month. Now questions began to tumble out of my mouth. “When will I be able to touch him again? What will happen to make it possible to touch Shepherd again? Who is able to do this wonderful thing?”
What joy filled my little chest! Perhaps there was a way to get my dog back after all.
“Hold on a minute,” my uncle said. “Catch your breath, and I’ll answer your questions. Do you remember hearing of Jesus Christ?”
I nodded. “Yes, you’ve told me a lot about Him. And every time I go to church, my Primary teachers talk about Him.”
“Do you remember what He did when He lived on the earth?”
“I remember that He was really good, and He made people well,” I said. “But some people put Him to death by nailing Him to a big wooden cross.”
“So Jesus died, is that right?” my uncle asked.
“Yes,” I answered quietly.
“What happened to Jesus when He died?”
I wasn’t exactly sure, but I decided to venture a guess. “If Shepherd’s body separated from his spirit when he died, then Jesus’ body must have separated from His spirit when He died, too.”
“That’s exactly right,” my uncle said. “So when this happened to Jesus, where did His followers put His body?”
I knew the answer to that one. “They put His body in a cave place and put a great stone in front of the way in.”
“Right again. Now, did His body stay in that cave forever?”
“No,” I replied. “Three days later a lady came to see if His body was OK. But when she got there, she saw an angel who told her that Jesus was gone.”
“Yes,” my uncle said, nodding. “And do you know why Jesus wasn’t there?”
“He came alive again.”
“That’s right—He came alive again. And that’s called the Resurrection. Resurrection is when, after a person or animal dies, his or her body and spirit come back together again. Jesus made it possible for everyone to be resurrected.”
“Even animals?” I asked eagerly.
“Even animals.”
“You mean that Shepherd will someday get his body back and that I will be able to touch him?” I whooped with joy.
“Yes,” my uncle assured me. “Even old Shepherd will get his body back. But this time he won’t have any aches or pains.”
At that moment all the sorrow and pain I felt for my beloved pet was gone. It was replaced with love and gratitude for Jesus, who had died and come alive again. He made it possible for everyone, even animals, to have their bodies forever.

I well recall one of the first anxious and earnest conversations with a temple attender after my service as temple president began in the Salt Lake Temple. A very thoughtful young lady had read through the relevant verses concerning the function of the temple as a house of learning and of instruction. She was perceptive enough to recognize that to know God and Christ, “the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent,” is “life eternal” (John 17:3). She knew also that we learn to know our Father and ultimately return to Him through Christ.
My testimony to her was that, for me, everything in the temple points ultimately to Christ and to our Father. The efficacy of the ordinances and covenants is in His atoning love and delegated authority—the authority of “the Holy Priesthood, after the Order of the Son of God” (D&C 107:3). But she had not yet made a clear connection in her own mind and heart how temple worship can become a critical key to knowing the Lord. …
The temple is of utmost importance in providing the setting for purifying and therefore sanctifying ourselves, which, as we learn about Christ, can lead us to that personal knowledge of Him and witness of Him that lead to the most precious of life’s gifts.
Temple learning and worship can be the university of eternal life through Jesus Christ. In the prayer of dedication at Kirtland, this petition was offered to the Lord: “Do thou grant, Holy Father, that all those who shall worship in this house may be taught words of wisdom … ;
“And that they may grow up in thee, and receive a fulness of the Holy Ghost” (D&C 109:14–15).
Is this accomplished by ceremonies and ritual? Yes, in part, if we understand the purpose, the symbolism, even as Adam and Eve were brought to understand it in the earliest days of mortality. But basically we learn through the substance of the message, the principles of eternal progression, of eternal life. It is around a few simple principles that we make covenants with the Lord. Recall Paul’s statement to the Romans that we are reconciled to God by Christ’s death, and saved “by his life” (Romans 5:10). To me this says that the principles of His holy life lead us to that fulness of salvation known as exaltation—loving, learning, serving, growing, creative life on a Godly level with loved ones and with the Father and the Son. In the temple we can learn to live as Christ lived on earth and as He and the Father live.
What are those principles which are central in His life that are taught in the temple and that relate to the covenants we make with the Lord? …
He loved in a way that perhaps only He and the Father really yet understand. But we are here to learn that, to learn to love enough to give. On battlefields and in hospital rooms and in the quiet heroic circumstances of unselfish devotion to parent or child, it has been demonstrated for me that there are people who have learned truly to love and sacrifice in His way.
As we choose and follow a course of giving, of caring, of graciousness and kindness, we come to understand that this is not an optional element of the gospel; it is the heart of it. Decency and honor, unselfishness, good manners, and good taste are expected of us. What really matters, after all, is what kind of people we are, what we are willing to give. … This we decide daily, hourly, as we learn and accept the direction of the Lord.
After the Crucifixion, Resurrection, and Ascension of the Savior, something happened to the surviving disciples, led by Peter, who in a time of stress had failed Him. Pentecost occurred—the coming of the Spirit—and those who had wavered stood strong in testimony and testifying. Chapters 1 to 5 of the book of Acts tell the story. The last verses of chapter 5 have dramatic impact. Gamaliel has intervened with his associates to give the disciples another chance, a little more time. So they are warned again to cease teaching and preaching Christ, are beaten once more, and released. The record says they departed the premises rejoicing that they were found worthy to suffer for Christ’s sake. Then, “daily in the temple, and in every house, they ceased not to teach and preach Jesus Christ” (Acts 5:42).
In like manner something should happen to us as we depart the temple in the spirit of 3 Nephi 17:3: “Therefore, go ye unto your homes, and ponder upon the things which I have said, and ask of the Father, in my name, that ye may understand, and prepare your minds for the morrow, and I come unto you again.”
A purifying spirit can cause us, acquainted now in a special way with the path followed and lighted by the Lord—and loving Him—to be new persons, practicing love and brotherhood, rallying to the will of the Lord, serving, sharing, loving, loyal to wholesome standards, seeking first the kingdom of God.
We need to purify our family lives and make our homes places where we “teach and preach” Jesus Christ daily but follow Him always. Our homes, our families, our individual lives should become centers of learning, centers of unselfishness and service. In the words of Rufus Jones, “Saints are not made for haloes and for inward thrills. They are made to become focus points of light and power. The true saint is a good mother, a good neighbor, a good constructive force in society, a fragrance and a blessing. The true saint is a dynamic Christian who exhibits in some definite spot the type of life which is fully realized in heaven.”1
Consider what to me is a clear and forceful key to the meaning of temples and temple worship. The Lord revealed to the Prophet Joseph Smith in 1836 the prayer that was offered at the dedication of the Kirtland Temple. The prayer became section 109 of the Doctrine and Covenants. One who sincerely desires to understand basic temple meaning could well read it over and over, especially its first touching, powerful two dozen verses. Verse 5 is a beautiful statement that merits deep consideration: “For thou knowest that we have done this work through great tribulation; and out of our poverty we have given of our substance to build a house to thy name, that the Son of Man might have a place to manifest himself to his people” (D&C 109:5; emphasis added).
How does He manifest Himself to His people in the temple?
Chiefly, I believe, through the beauty and compelling cogency of temple principles, ordinances, and covenants, through temple worship—through the spirit of revelation and other blessings of the Spirit available there for those whose minds and hearts are in tune, and who are patient and anxious to learn and to move their own lives toward Christlike ideals (see 3 Nephi 27:21, 27).
One example may suffice in illustrating the spiritual strength that comes to those who persevere in the service of the Lord in temples. I came into the temple one morning about 4:30 a.m., grateful to have been able to plow through heavy snow from our home to get there. In a secluded room, sitting thoughtfully as he leaned forward on his cane, I chanced upon an older, deeply admired friend. Like I, he was dressed in white, temple workers’ white. I greeted him cheerily and inquired what he was doing there at that hour of the morning.
He said, “You know what I am doing here, President Hanks. I am an ordinance worker here to fulfill my assignment.”
“I do know that,” I said, “but I am wondering how you got here through the snow storm. I just heard on the radio that Parley’s Canyon is closed to all traffic, indeed barricaded.”
He said, “I have a four-wheeler that will climb trees.”
I said, “So do I, or I would not be here, and I live only a few miles away.”
I then asked him how he had managed to get through the barricades that the news announcements had said were in place in the canyon. His answer was not atypical of this rancher and stake president whom I had first seen as a robust, strong man astride his horse when I spent an afternoon with him prior to stake conference meetings. Arthritis and age had literally shrunk him now and would soon take his life. He had much pain in moving about. His answer that morning was, “Now, President Hanks, I have known those highway officers, many of them, since they were born. They know I must get through and that if necessary I might try to go overland! They also know my truck and my experience, and they just move their barricades if they need to.”
He was there, faithful and loyal at that hour of the morning, to begin his sacred work. It is such individuals with such faith and devotion that temples help to develop.

President Spencer W. Kimball also recognized the benefits of taking on a challenging goal. He told this story of a goal he made when he was 14:

“When I heard a Church leader from Salt Lake City tell us at conference that we should read the scriptures, … I walked to my home a block away … and I read the first chapters of Genesis. …

“I found that this Bible that I was reading had in it 66 books, and then I was nearly dissuaded when I found that it had in it 1,189 chapters, and then I also found that it had 1,519 pages. It was formidable, but I knew if others did it that I could do it.”

That amount of reading wasn’t easy for a teenager, but nevertheless President Kimball persevered and completed his goal. As an adult, he said, “I have always been glad I read the Bible from cover to cover.”

President Kimball benefited from taking the time to think through the logistics of his goal. Even though it sounded daunting, the information prepared him to succeed. As was the case with President Kimball, reaching for and achieving a challenging goal at a young age can bring feelings of confidence and satisfaction to serve us throughout life.

My parents have always encouraged me to read A Liahona (Portuguese), but I never did until I moved away to go to college. Being on my own made me think about my priorities. I decided then that I would start reading A Liahona each month from cover to cover. When I received the first issue, there were moments when I felt that what I was reading had been written specifically to me. The words were encouraging and inspiring. I felt the Holy Ghost testify of their truthfulness. From that day on I have waited with great anticipation for the arrival of every issue.
Evelyn Monteiro Lee Hin,Barão Geraldo Ward, Campinas Brazil Castelo Stake

Parents need to give children choices and should be prepared to appropriately adjust some rules, thus preparing children for real-world situations. To do this, parents must listen—really listen—to what their children are saying. They must know what is important to each child. I learned this lesson years ago from one of our daughters. She was only four or five at the time. She came into the room, all excited. I was reading the newspaper, and she had something very much on her mind that was important to her. And I was responding, “Yes, uh-huh, uh-huh.” All of a sudden the newspaper came crashing down with her two little hands. She grabbed my face between her hands so that she could look me right in the eye. This was a little four- or five-year-old teaching her father a great lesson. “Daddy, you’re not listening to me.” And she was right.

Monday was sharing day at Patty’s school. When it was her turn to stand up and speak, she said, “My family is moving to Florida at the end of this week. It won’t snow there the way it does here. My new school is called Palm Grove. I’m sure going to miss everyone.”
The class grew very quiet. Even Patty’s best friends, Jean and Robert, did not know what to say.
When the weekend came, Patty bid her friends a tearful good-bye. Then she was too busy moving to be very sad. And the new town in Florida was exciting, at least at first. There was no school because of the holidays, and Mom, Dad, and Patty went to the zoo and the park and the ocean. They found a wonderful old museum too. But it was different at Palm Grove School. Patty’s classmates were nice to her, but they had their own projects and their own friends already, and Patty felt left out.
“Don’t worry,” said Mom. “You’ll make new friends soon. If you want something to do right now, though, why don’t you write a letter to Jean and tell her about all the new things here?”
So Patty sat down and wrote a long letter about the zoo and the park and the ocean and the museum. She tried to make her letter sound happy, but when she wrote about her new school, she couldn’t help but tell how lonely she was.
Not many days later a big brown envelope addressed to Patty came in the mail. Inside were photographs! There was a picture of Patty’s old class with everyone waving. There was a picture of Jean standing next to a very big snowman, and there was a blurry picture of Robert going lickety-split on a sled. Twenty-five letters—one from everybody in her old class—were also inside the envelope.
Patty took the pictures to her new school on sharing day. First she showed her new class the picture of her old friends. Then she showed them the one with the big snowdrifts. When she held up the pictures of Jean with the snowman and Robert on his sled, everyone began to ask questions.
“How do you make a snowman?”
“Did you ever build a snowman?”
“Did you have a sled?”
“How fast can you go?”
Patty’s classmates asked more questions during lunchtime and recess. She told them about ice-skating and skiing and even about snowball fights. Soon Patty had many friends at Palm Grove School.
Then one sharing day Tim stood up and said he would be moving to another state. All the children were sad. Then Patty looked at him and smiled. She and the rest of the class would plan a very special surprise. They would send it to Tim in a big brown envelope.

The earliest instance of which I have recollection of spiritual feelings was when I was about five years of age, a very small boy. I was crying from the pain of an earache. There were no wonder drugs at the time. … My mother prepared a bag of table salt and put it on the stove to warm. My father softly put his hands upon my head and gave me a blessing, rebuking the pain and the illness by authority of the holy priesthood and in the name of Jesus Christ. He then took me tenderly in his arms and placed the bag of warm salt at my ear. The pain subsided and left. I fell asleep in my father’s secure embrace. As I was falling asleep, the words of his administration floated through my mind. That is the earliest remembrance I have of the exercise of the authority of the priesthood in the name of the Lord. …

His love of drawing has given him a chance to cheer others and has helped him gain some interesting friends as well. When Brad was eleven years old, he was watching a car race on television. He was stunned to see a car crash and burn in the pits. One of the men severely injured was Derrick Walker, the manager of a racing team.
“I drew a race car and sent it to him in the hospital as a get-well card. After that, he sent me a thank-you letter. We’ve been friends ever since,” says Brad. That simple correspondence has blossomed into a special relationship. Since then, Walker and Roger Penske, another racing friend, have flown Brad and a guest to major races each year.

When my oldest son became a deacon and an Eagle Scout, a picture of an eagle came to my mind as I thought of him and his future. We were living in Idaho near the base of the South Teton mountain, where we hiked together and watched the eagles soar. That picture in my mind gave me the feeling of Isaiah’s words:
“He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.
“Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall:
“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”
In fact, with that oldest son, we had stopped hiking below the peak of the South Teton because my son grew weary. He wanted to stop. He said, “Will I always be sorry that we didn’t make it to the top? Dad, you go on—I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
I replied, “I’ll never be disappointed, and you’ll never be sorry. We’ll always remember that we climbed here together.” At the top of his height board, I carved an eagle and the inscription “On Eagles’ Wings.”
Over the years, my son soared higher as a missionary than I had imagined in my fondest hopes. In the challenges of the mission field, some of what he faced seemed to be above his reach. For the boy you lift, it may be, as it was for my son, that the Lord lifted him higher in preaching the gospel in a difficult language than I had thought possible. If you will try with any young man to sense his priesthood possibilities, I promise you the Lord will tell you as much as you need. The boy may have potential even beyond what the Lord will reveal to you. Help him aim high.

Members of the Samabula 1st Ward participated in a service project for the Harland Hostel for the Deaf in Fiji in March 2021.
A group of 20 volunteers spent three hours cleaning the hostel and playing with the children. They raked the yard, cut the grass, planted, and cleaned. They also repaired a washing machine.
“We wanted our members, especially our children, to see firsthand how children as young as five years old leave their homes and loved ones and live at the hostel just so they can have access to quality specialized education,” explained Eileen Swann, one of the participants.
The Harland Hostel for the Deaf has 26 children from ages five to 14. There is also a rented home for older boys and a hostel for older girls.
“The hostel is just five minutes away from our chapel where we meet each Sunday and we as members of the Church need to be aware of others in the community where we live,” said Swann.
“We need to know our community, know what services are available or how we can be of service to our community. When we look beyond our differences, we will find that we have a lot in common with others. In doing so we build resilient and tolerant communities and better citizens.”
Other participants expressed gratitude to see how happy the children were despite having a loss of hearing and being away from their families.

Acts of selfless service are performed daily by countless members of the Church. There are many which are freely given, with no fanfare or boasting, but rather through quiet love and tender care. Let me share with you the example of one who made such a simple yet profound choice to serve.
A few years ago, Sister Monson and I were in the city of Toronto, where we once lived when I was the mission president. Olive Davies, the wife of the first stake president in Toronto, was gravely ill and preparing to pass from this life. Her illness required her to leave her cherished home and enter a hospital which could provide the care she needed. Her only child lived with her own family far away in the West.
I attempted to comfort Sister Davies, but she had present with her the comfort she longed to have. A stalwart grandson sat silently next to his grandmother. I learned he had spent most of the summer away from his university studies, that he might serve his grandmother’s needs. I said to him, “Shawn, you will never regret your decision. Your grandmother feels you are heaven-sent, an answer to her prayers.”
He replied, “I chose to come because I love her and know this is what my Heavenly Father would have me do.”
Tears were near the surface. Grandmother told us how she enjoyed being helped by her grandson and introducing him to each employee and every patient in the hospital. Hand in hand, they walked the halls, and during the night he was close by.
Olive Davies has passed on to her reward, there to meet her faithful husband and together continue an eternal journey. In a grandson’s heart there will ever remain those words, “Choose the right when a choice is placed before you. In the right the Holy Spirit guides.”