Gospel Story Finder

Barbara Ann rode her tricycle up and down the sidewalk. When she saw the bus, she pedaled hard to beat it to the corner. The bus driver waved.
Barbara Ann thought it must be fun to ride a bus with all its interesting people.
One day a pretty lady got off the bus. Her arms were full of packages. One package dropped. Barbara Ann quickly picked it up.
“Thank you,” the lady said. “Can you put it on top of my other packages?” She stooped so Barbara Ann could reach. Barbara Ann and the lady smiled at each other.
One day a mother and baby got off the bus. The baby whimpered. “There, there,” the mother said. “We’ll soon have lunch and a good nap. Then you’ll feel better.”
Sometimes an old man with a cane got off the bus. Once a little boy ran to meet him. “Hi, Gramps!” he called. The man smiled and held out his arms.
Every day a nurse in a white uniform waited on the corner. I’d like to be a nurse when I grow up, Barbara Ann thought, or maybe a doctor.
One day Mother said, “How would you like to ride the bus downtown with me?”
“Oh boy!” cried Barbara Ann.
Barbara Ann and her mother waited at the bus stop. Barbara Ann hopped first on one foot and then on the other, she was so excited.
“Well, hello, young lady,” the bus driver said. “How are you today?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” said Barbara Ann politely.
Mother put some money in the fare box.
Barbara Ann looked around. There was a man reading a paper. A lady was knitting something with pretty blue yarn. Another lady kept falling asleep. Her head would nod and then suddenly snap back. She opened her eyes wide as if she were trying to stretch them so they wouldn’t keep closing.
A boy carrying a guitar got on the bus and the door went WHOOSH!
Two ladies, their arms full of books, got off by the library. The bus door WHOOSHED them good-bye.
Barbara Ann smiled at everyone. Some of the passengers smiled back. But some of them just sank into a seat without glancing at anyone else. Barbara Ann liked the smiling people best. But maybe the others are tired or have a headache, she decided. Sometimes Mother doesn’t smile when she has a headache. She looked up at her mother. Mother smiled.
The knitting lady stood up and pulled the cord and the bus stopped at the corner. She hurried off the bus. The door went WHOOSH!
Soon lots of people were getting off. And every time the door went WHOOSH!
Mother took Barbara Ann’s hand and pulled the cord. “This is where we get off,” she said.
Mother bought thread and a zipper in one store. In another store she bought some stationery and a pretty pink candle. Then they went to Daddy’s office.
“Hello, Barbara Ann,” said Miss Harris, Daddy’s secretary. “I haven’t seen you for a long time.”
“We rode the bus,” said Barbara Ann.
“You did! Did you like the bus ride?”
Barbara Ann nodded. “Did you know the doors go WHOOSH?”
Miss Harris smiled. “I can’t say I’ve ever noticed. But now that you mention it, you’re right. They do go WHOOSH!”
Daddy came out of his office.
“We rode the bus,” Barbara Ann told Daddy.
“And how did you like it?”
“It was fun,” Barbara Ann replied. “Did you know bus doors go WHOOSH?”
Daddy laughed. “I’ve never really paid any attention to their sound. But I do believe you’re right.”
“We rode the bus today,” Barbara Ann told her brother Bart and her sister Laura that evening. “Did you know bus doors go WHOOSH?”
Bart poked her in the ribs and made her giggle. “WHOOSH!” he said. “WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!”
“There’s so much noise on the school bus that I never noticed,” said Laura.
Barbara Ann smiled. She had learned something no one else seemed to know about. She knew busses were fun. And she knew their doors didn’t bang—they WHOOSHED!

After crossing the Colorado River by ferry, the company still faced more than 240 kilometers of rugged ground. Elizabeth M. Decker described this land in a letter to her parents. “It’s the roughest country you or anybody else ever seen; it’s nothing in the world but rocks and holes, hills, and hollows. The mountains are just one solid rock as smooth as an apple.” Because the land turned out to be rougher than anticipated, the journey took much longer than expected—six months instead of six weeks—making the so-called shortcut extremely arduous. Two babies were born along the way. Supplies had to be brought in to the company by mule train. On 6 April 1880, the exhausted company came upon a few acres of good farmland near a small river. They named the spot Bluff City.
Though travel worn, the pioneers had remained true to their resolve to follow the prophet and move forward, and they had endured the hardships in good spirits. As one member of the company recalled, “In a camp … moving … through extremely rough country, one would naturally look for some trouble and a few accidents, but this was not the case. All was hustle and harmony.”

I was sitting in the bishop’s office participating in one of those special occasions when we receive strength and blessings through the priesthood. I was being set apart as Laurel adviser in my ward. Many of the things that were said at that time I have since forgotten, but one thing made a particularly deep impression on me. The bishop’s counselor who was setting me apart admonished me to work toward receiving the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost. When he spoke those words, there was a burning within me, and the wisdom of his counsel was impressed upon me.
I had often heard Church leaders speak about the necessity of having the guidance of the Holy Ghost, and I had tried at different times to make the influence of the spirit an integral part of my life. But discouragement would come easily, and I always felt that I had never quite succeeded. Frustrated, I would reason away my failure with the notion that the companionship of the Holy Ghost must be for the General Authorities and their families. I felt that as long as I lived a “good” life, someday in the distant future I might qualify for that blessing.
How easy it is to deceive ourselves with excuses when a task is not simple. But no excuses came to me on that day in the bishop’s office. As I was counseled by a servant of the Lord to obtain the guidance of the Holy Ghost, I knew that the Lord was reminding me of something he had admonished me to do years before when I was baptized. All of us, when we are confirmed after baptism, have hands placed on our heads and are told by a representative of the Lord, “Receive the Holy Ghost.” All the rationalizing in the world cannot erase this invitation and commandment.
We have been told in this dispensation, as well as in times past, the importance of receiving the Holy Ghost. President Wilford Woodruff expressed it clearly at a stake conference in 1896:
“Now, I have always said, and I want to say it to you, that the Holy Ghost is what every Saint of God needs. … Every man and woman in this Church should labor to get that Spirit. … This is the Spirit that we must have to carry out the purposes of God on the earth. We need that more than any other gift. … We should pray to the Lord until we get the Comforter. This is what is promised to us when we are baptized. It is the spirit of light, of truth, and of revelation, and can be with all of us at the same time.” (Deseret Weekly, 7 Nov. 1896, pp. 641–43.)
The gift of the Holy Ghost is not restricted to either men or women; nor is it restricted to the General Authorities. It is available to all of us as long as we obey the commandments of God. With this gift we can experience for ourselves direction, inspiration, comfort, wisdom, strength, and testimony every day. In other words, we can receive revelation. We are told by the Prophet Joseph Smith that “no man can receive the Holy Ghost without receiving revelations. The Holy Ghost is a revelator.” (History of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 6:58.)
What are some of the ways in which the revelations of the Holy Ghost can help us?
Parley P. Pratt, a member of the original Quorum of the Twelve in this dispensation, has written: “An intelligent being, in the image of God, possesses every organ, attribute, sense, sympathy, affection that is possessed by God Himself.
“But these … attributes are in embryo; and are to be gradually developed. …
“The gift of the Holy Ghost adapts itself to all these organs or attributes. It quickens all the intellectual faculties, expands and purifies all the natural passions and affections; and adapts them, by the gift of wisdom, to their lawful use. … It inspires virtue, kindness, goodness, tenderness, gentleness and charity. It develops beauty of person, form and features. It tends to health, vigor, animation and social feeling. It invigorates all the faculties of the physical and intellectual man. It strengthens, and gives tone to the nerves. In short, it is, as it were, marrow to the bone, joy to the heart, light to the eyes, music to the ears, and life to the whole being.” (Key to the Science of Theology, 10th ed., Deseret Book Co., 1965, pp. 100–101.)
All of us face the daily struggle of trying to improve ourselves and become more godlike. We have the desire to become perfect, and yet it sometimes appears to be such an ominous and impossible thing. The Holy Ghost is indispensable to us in this struggle. And so it is that in the struggle to perfect our lives, we seek for the gifts that will strengthen us and guide us in our quest for perfection.
One way, for example, that the Holy Ghost has been of help to me in my individual progression is by making me aware of my imperfections. When I pray for the guidance of the Spirit before reading scriptures, passages that relate to particular areas in which I need improvement seem to stand out. As I read them I am filled with the desire to do better. The Holy Ghost, besides bringing this information to our knowledge, can also grant us other spiritual gifts to help us in accomplishing our goals.
When parents are trying to rear a family, each day brings a hundred decisions, large and small. Some of these decisions play a more important role in shaping the lives of our children and naturally concern us more. While the Lord has instructed us to use own wisdom and to search for the answers to our problems, he has not left us alone. He has provided a means whereby we may know if the decisions we come to are the proper ones. Through the guidance of the Holy Ghost, parents can be directed into the most effective means of working with their children and may receive promptings in their behalf.
We can be guided, not only in times of crisis, but also on a day-to-day basis. We may receive on-the-spot guidance in little matters such as how to help a three-year-old cope with the frustrations of learning to tie his shoes, or perhaps in resolving conflicts between brothers and sisters. The ideas we receive may often seem so natural that we may not think of them as inspiration, but if we respond, we will see a change take place in our homes. “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance.” (Gal. 5:22–23.) What better traits could we bring into our homes and families? Just think what a positive effect they could have!
We know that we are all entitled to revelation in and about our specific Church callings, whether we are Primary president or home teacher or General Authority. And not only are we entitled to this revelation, but we also have a responsibility to actively seek it and be led by it in our callings.
Many times while serving in different callings, I have had ideas come to me that I recognized as inspiration. Some come after much thought and prayer, and some seemingly “out of the blue.” There are other times, however, when the answers are not clear; but as we strive to do our best, our ability to recognize these promptings increases. Think of the things we could accomplish in our Church callings by refining our ability to receive this guidance, receiving the knowledge of what the Lord wants us to do and having the courage to do it.
It becomes apparent, after searching the scriptures, that in order to have the companionship of the Holy Ghost our lives must be in conformance with gospel standards, for “the Spirit of the Lord doth not dwell in unholy temples.” (Hel. 4:24.) President Harold B. Lee has said, “The key to success in this regard is humility of spirit whereby one seeks to live in accordance with the eternal perspective of an everlasting life and the earnest effort to know the will of the Lord.” (General Conference, October 1946, italics added.)
An “earnest effort to know the will of the Lord” reminds us of Nephi’s exhortation to diligently seek the Holy Ghost. (See 1 Ne. 10:17.) We have to desire the Holy Ghost and make that desire manifest through earnest prayer and supplication. “And it shall come to pass, that if you shall ask the Father in my name, in faith believing, you shall receive the Holy Ghost.” (D&C 14:8; italics added.)
Once we have done these things—having lived according to gospel standards, prayed diligently, exercised faith, and received guidance from the Holy Ghost the scriptures point out that our job is not yet done. We must then listen to the promptings of the Holy Ghost, the “still small voice” that may come naturally as a thought or impression. The Prophet Joseph Smith said, “A person may profit by noticing the first intimation of the spirit of revelation; for instance, when you feel pure intelligence flowing into you, it may give you sudden strokes of ideas, so that by noticing it, you may find it fulfilled the same day or soon … ; and thus by learning the Spirit of God and understanding it, you may grow into the principle of revelation.” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, p. 151.)
I had an experience that illustrates this concept. While I was serving as Relief Society president in our ward, my husband was asked to serve as elders quorum group leader while the quorum president was gone for the summer. When we received word that the quorum president would not be returning, we discussed the possibility of my husband filling this position. We disregarded it, however, feeling that both of us filling such demanding and time-consuming jobs would be too hard on our three preschoolers.
But still I felt the inclination to pray about it. One night as I was praying the thought came clearly into my mind that if the Lord called my husband to this position, we were to recognize it as an indication to us that He felt it was possible for us to handle the assignment. If we would be wise in our planning, our children would not suffer. When my husband was called by the stake president and sustained to this position the next week, I saw the fulfillment of the promptings I had received. Prior to being called, my husband had also received witness from the Holy Ghost that this was the position he was to fill at this time.
We must be teachable and open to the whisperings of the Spirit something that improves with practice. We must become accustomed to listening to the Spirit in little daily matters as well as larger ones. Such instruction about little things may come to us line upon line, precept upon precept, for the Holy Ghost reveals to us only that amount which we are able to accept.
My husband had to drive out of state on business one night. It was not a long drive, and he anticipated arriving about 7:00 P.M. He left, saying he would call when he got there. By eight o’clock I was starting to worry, and by ten I was getting increasingly upset. I would try, off and on, to get some sleep; but by 2:00 A.M. I knew that I needed the comfort of the Holy Ghost. I knelt, unable to sleep, almost sick with fear, and prayed for the Holy Ghost to comfort me and give me a sense of peace if everything was all right. Twice during the night I had this sense of calm for a few minutes, but I rationalized it away, being unaccustomed to listening to that kind of spiritual prompting. I ignored the feelings I had because I felt that logically, if everything were all right, he would find some way to get in touch with me.
The next morning I was able to locate him and found out that he was fine; my usually considerate husband had simply forgotten to call. How much less painful that night would have been if I had accepted the whisperings of the Spirit and not rejected them.
Once we have learned to listen and to recognize the promptings of the Holy Ghost, there is one more thing we must do: We must act upon those promptings. Once we know the Lord’s will, it is important that we do not procrastinate our obedience out of neglect or fear. Sometimes it will take courage to follow through on these whisperings, and sometimes it will just take diligence in not putting them off. If we are prompted by the Lord to get Sister Jones involved in some activity or to go visit Brother Smith to see if something is troubling him, we must follow that prompting. The time may never be as ideal again for us to be of service to them.
If we will put our lives in order, pray in faith, study out our needs in our minds, listen to the promptings of the Spirit and act upon them, we can be assured of the daily guidance we have been promised, as fast as we are able to accept it and profit by it.
The Doctrine and Covenants speaks of a state of character and spiritual progress where one may have the Holy Ghost as a “constant companion.” (D&C 121:46.)
As we look at our own relationships with the Holy Ghost, what do we find? A stranger, a visitor or our constant companion?

I applied for a classical piano competition a few months ago. I knew it would likely be on a Sunday, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. I started practicing three months before the competition, and it took a lot of time and effort to get ready.
A month before the competition, a seminary lesson on the Ten Commandments made me think about whether or not competing on a Sunday was a good idea. I wanted to push away the thought, because I’d already paid the application fee of TWD$1,400 (about US$50)—not to mention that I’d spent so much time practicing. I asked my seminary teacher if going to a piano competition would be breaking the Sabbath. He told me that was between God and me. But he bore his testimony that keeping the Sabbath day holy would be a blessing. I thought about it, and I really didn’t want to have to forfeit the competition.
Each day, I read a general conference article. I had just finished one talk and was about to put down the articles, but the next article caught my eye: “Stand in Holy Places” by President Thomas S. Monson (Ensign, Nov. 2011, 82). When I began reading it, I hadn’t been thinking at all about my piano competition, nor was I expecting an answer from the talk. But as I read, it was as if Heavenly Father were chastising me. President Monson’s words hit me hard:
“The Ten Commandments are just that—commandments. They are not suggestions. They are every bit as requisite today as they were when God gave them to the children of Israel” (83).
Then as I continued, I found:
“His constancy is something on which we can rely, an anchor to which we can hold fast and be safe, lest we be swept away into uncharted waters.
“… There is nothing which can bring more joy into our lives or more peace to our souls than the Spirit which can come to us as we follow the Savior and keep the commandments” (83).
I knew then what my Heavenly Father expected of me. I said a prayer and told Him that if it were necessary, I would forfeit the competition, even if I didn’t get a refund. I prayed that I wouldn’t have to forfeit if it were possible, that there might be a way for me to still compete, but that I would keep the Sabbath day holy no matter what.
At the end of the day, I told my piano teacher I couldn’t compete on a Sunday. She was surprisingly understanding. She said the competitions were divided by area and that I could try to transfer to an area that competed on a different day. I made a call the next day and successfully transferred to compete in Tainan, Taiwan, where the competition was held on Saturday.
I am so grateful that I made the decision to obey my Heavenly Father’s commandments. God not only wanted me to keep the Sabbath day holy, but He cared that the piano competition mattered a lot to me. Because I was willing to obey, my testimony of God’s love for me and of the blessings that come from obeying His commandments has been strengthened. I know that when we do our best to do what He asks, God will provide the rest.

A member of our bishopric knew that my nine-year-old daughter kept an aquarium and one day asked if she might want some more fish. His family was going on vacation and needed to empty their aquarium. The offer was immediately accepted, and to my daughter’s delight, a pregnant female guppy was among the group.
Upon coming home from church one afternoon, my daughter did her routine check on the aquarium to see if each fish was happy and healthy. To her surprise, she saw four tiny, newborn fish. The mother guppy had begun to deliver. Acting quickly, she moved the babies to the safety box that would protect them from the bigger and more aggressive fish. In all of the excitement, however, one baby guppy was lost. Crying with disappointment, my daughter located it lying among the tiny rocks on the bottom of the aquarium. She tried to scoop it into her net to be placed in the safety box, but she couldn’t move the tiny guppy without injuring it.
All the other tiny guppies were caught, and although the safety box teemed with dozens of new babies, my daughter’s attention was still intently focused on the one fallen among the stones. She sat ready to help it into the box as soon as it could move. She even refused dinner as she sat attentively by her aquarium for about four hours.
Watching her struck some familiar and tender chords. I thought of the Good Shepherd, who leaves His ninety and nine to look for the one who is lost (see Luke 15:3–8; John 10:11–14). All of us know how it feels to be lost or afflicted or spiritually sick. Yet our Savior never gives up on us. He is always there with outstretched arms, ready and willing to rescue us, strengthen us, and bless us.
Later that day my daughter’s concern for that guppy paid off. After her long, tedious hours of waiting and hoping, the tiny fish finally wiggled and then slowly swam out of the rocks. Carefully she placed it in the comfort and security of the safety box. That was witness enough for me of the sustaining power of love.

Last year, students from Mesa Skyline Seminary in Arizona agreed to work together in creating a habit of daily scripture reading. They accepted the challenge to read the scriptures each day for at least 15 minutes. For every three days a student did this, he or she could write his or her name on a new wooden block.
As the blocks were earned and marked, they were glued together, eventually forming a replica of an ancient American city the students affectionately called “Zarahemla.” After seven weeks of reading and learning, a total of 1,750 blocks were cut, earned, and labeled with a name. The replica city was 12 feet in length, 8 feet wide, with a city wall, four corner towers, a large temple at the center, and hundreds of smaller buildings and shops within.
Building the city of Zarahemla “got me into the habit of reading my scriptures longer,” says Marissa Madsen, 16. “I really appreciated seeing something physically being built as a reminder of my testimony growing as I continued to read the scriptures.”
Randy Chavez, 17, agreed that the project was a big success. “It was nice to be unified as an entire seminary to achieve one large goal, and I felt excited to do my part. Because of the project, I read more frequently and longer.”

With a start, I awoke and listened. It was still dark so I knew it wasn’t the breakfast call that had awakened me. I nudged my older brother. “Ben, wake up. Something strange is happening.”
Ben pushed a sleep-fogged head out of the covers and listened. “I don’t hear anything, Shrimp. Go back to sleep.”
“That’s just it,” I insisted. “There aren’t any sounds!”
Ben listened again and then he smiled. “It’s probably snowing. It’s sure cold enough for it.” His blond head disappeared under the comforter.
The first real snow this year, I thought. Maybe there’s enough for sledding on the hill. As soon as I heard Mama lighting the kitchen stove, I threw on my clothes to keep the bed warmth in and ran downstairs to the heat below.
“What brings you down without a third call and a few threats thrown in?” asked Mama.
“It snowed!” I almost shouted the news.
“It certainly did—almost two feet,” Mama said. Then Ben and the little ones came clattering in, and the kitchen became a cheery waking-up place with the smell of bacon frying and everyone talking about what to do in the snow.
“Whoa,” said Mama, moving Wyn by the shoulders to his seat at the table. “This is a school day. You’d better eat and get out of here. It will take you longer to get to the bus stop in these drifts.”
“Oh, please, let us stay home,” we chorused.
“Sorry, fellows. Only Libby stays, since she has a cold.”
Outdoors I flopped on my back in the glistening snow. “Look, I’m an angel,” I called, flapping my arms and legs to leave an angel print.
“That’s about as close as you’ll ever come to being an angel,” yelled Ben, as he pelted me with snowballs. Seeing me down, Wyn and Jon joined in. I was laughing and trying to get up when the school bus horn blared. “We’ll be skinned for sure if we miss it. Run!” cried Ben.
All day at school the class was noisy. At two o’clock our teacher announced that school would be dismissed early. She laughed as we all plunged for the coatroom.
“Let’s not wait for the bus, Ben,” I suggested. “We’re out a whole hour early so let’s walk.”
“Can’t. We’d be late and then we’d catch it.”
“Not if we cut cross-country.” Turning to Jon and Wyn I called, “Last one over the fence is a scrungy turtle.” Over they climbed and then Ben followed, just like I knew he would.
“Good thing Libby’s not with us,” Jon said, knee-deep in the snow. “She couldn’t keep up in these drifts.”
“That gives me an idea. Poor Libby’s been in all day with her cold. Why don’t we roll a couple of balls and surprise her with a gigantic snowman?” I suggested. Ben thought it would take too long, but Wyn and Jon wanted to.
It was fun racing two and two, pushing the snowballs. But soon Ben and Jon got ahead as our snowballs grew bigger and harder to push. “It must be getting late,” said Ben, looking at the lowering sky.
“Maybe it’s just darker because it’s started to snow again,” I ventured.
“Either way, we’d better leave one ball. We’ll make good time with the four of us on one.”
It was really dark when we reached our lane. Ahead we could see headlights and from the sound we guessed it was Papa’s truck. Around the corner it came and caught the four of us and our giant snowball full in the headlights. The truck skidded to a stop. Papa came flying out of the cab. “Your mother has called half the county, trying to locate you!” he shouted. “As a last resort I was on my way to town to round up a search party. We figured you’d freeze if you stayed out in this all night. Now here I find you, playing with a snowball!” He waved an arm at the back of the truck and we piled in, leaving the giant snowball behind.
When we reached home, Papa said, “You get into the house fast and think of something nice to say to your mother, to make up for all the worry you’ve caused. If you’re lucky, she may heat up some supper for you.”
When we went into the kitchen, she seemed more glad to see us than anything else. After supper Papa ordered us up to bed. I was thinking we were getting off easy when he boomed, “All except Ben.” As usual, the ideas from my shrimpy-red head got us into trouble, but it was Ben who got the blame. He’s the oldest and Papa always says he’s responsible.
I went straight to bed, but I meant to stay awake until Ben came up. Next thing I knew Mama was calling, “Breakfast!”
Ben stirred. “Gosh, Ben. I’m sorry,” I began. “What happened after we came to bed?”
“It wasn’t too bad, Shrimp. Wait and see.”
Nothing was said at breakfast. Then we all piled into the truck to ride to the bus stop. Libby was going, too, and Papa said he didn’t want her starting the day all wet.
Before we reached the end of the lane the truck stopped. From the cab we could hear Libby squealing and Papa’s deep laugh. We all hung out the back to see. By the side of the road stood the gigantic snowman we had planned for Libby!
I looked at Ben. He grinned and then explained. “When I told Papa why we were late, he said it had been a dumb thing to do. He left me squirming for a few minutes and then said, ‘Well, get some warm clothes on. If we’re going to finish that snowman, we’d better get started now that it’s stopped snowing.’”
By the truck lights they had finished him off to be a giant, taller even than Papa. He was a proper snowman, too, with rock eyes, a carrot nose, and a hat borrowed from our old horse.
“The snowman won’t mind that his hat has slits for ears,” said Libby, her eyes shining with pleasure.
“I’m sure he won’t,” Papa said. And we looked at each other and winked.

Once Joseph, Emma, and Oliver moved to Fayette, David’s mother had her hands full. Mary Whitmer and her husband, Peter, already had eight children between the ages of 15 and 30, and the few who did not still live at home resided nearby. Tending to their needs filled Mary’s days with work, and the three houseguests added more labor. Mary had faith in Joseph’s calling and did not complain, but she was getting tired.17
The heat in Fayette that summer was sweltering. As Mary washed clothes and prepared meals, Joseph dictated the translation in an upstairs room. Oliver usually wrote for him, but occasionally Emma or one of the Whitmers took a turn with the pen.18 Sometimes, when Joseph and Oliver tired of the strain of translating, they would walk out to a nearby pond and skip stones across the surface of the water.
Mary had little time to relax herself, and the added work and the strain placed on her were hard to bear.
One day, while she was out by the barn where the cows were milked, she saw a gray-haired man with a knapsack slung across his shoulder. His sudden appearance frightened her, but as he approached, he spoke to her in a kind voice that set her at ease.
“My name is Moroni,” he said. “You have become pretty tired with all the extra work you have to do.” He swung the knapsack off his shoulder, and Mary watched as he started to untie it.19
“You have been very faithful and diligent in your labors,” he continued. “It is proper, therefore, that you should receive a witness that your faith may be strengthened.”20
Moroni opened his knapsack and removed the gold plates. He held them in front of her and turned their pages so she could see the writings on them. After he turned the last page, he urged her to be patient and faithful as she carried the extra burden a little longer. He promised she would be blessed for it.21
The old man vanished a moment later, leaving Mary alone. She still had work to do, but that no longer troubled her.22

And the pattern of example is continuing in the family. As part of the “Learn, Act, Share” process in Duty to God, Scott shared his testimony of scripture study with his younger brother, Josh, who is a deacon. Scott wrote him this note to encourage him to read the scriptures:
“Josh, I don’t know if you have started reading the Book of Mormon by yourself or not. But if you haven’t, I would challenge you to start. The Book of Mormon has been a huge influence on strengthening my testimony. I know that it is the word of God. I love you and want to be with you forever in the celestial kingdom. I know that my life has been blessed through the teachings of the Book of Mormon, and yours can be too.”
Now, Josh has set a plan in Duty to God to read his scriptures every day and to keep a scripture journal—following the examples of both his older brothers.

To the Timmins family, “keeping it in the family” has developed a special meaning. It refers to a pocket-sized New Testament that has accompanied each new missionary that the family has sent out since 1926. Currently it is in the possession of Elder Matthew T. Bailey of the North Hollywood Third Ward, North Hollywood California Stake, who is serving as a missionary in Mexico. The original owner was Elder Bailey’s grandfather, W. Mont Timmins, who served in Canada.
Since that time the New Testament has been used by members of the Timmins family serving in Scotland, California, Chile, Uruguay, Argentina, Norway, Texas, Georgia, Italy, and France. When two missionaries are in the mission field at the same time, the one to go out first is presented with the book; then he mails it back as the next person in the family prepares to go. Before each missionary goes into the field, the family gathers for a special luncheon, after which the returned missionaries tell of their missionary experiences and bear their testimonies. Then the book is presented to the next missionary.
William Timmins, also a grandson of W. Mont Timmins, expressed the feelings of the Timmins missionaries toward the tradition by saying: “It’s like a bridge between generations. As each boy goes out, he can read notes and annotations written by his grandfather, uncles, and brothers. It’s amazing how those notes and marked scriptures have helped missionary after missionary.”

With the truth of God’s love in mind, I still wanted to know why I experience same-sex attraction.
I pondered God’s love for me, studied my patriarchal blessing, kept going to church, read my scriptures, and pored over every gospel resource on same-sex attraction. I prayed and prayed some more to learn more about why I was experiencing something that seemed so contrary to Heavenly Father’s plan. I wanted to know what it could mean for my discipleship.
Not all of us may have a clear answer to our deep, heartfelt questions until the next life. I may never know the exact answer of why I’m attracted to women, but the Spirit has whispered to me that just like any experience we have in mortality, this specific experience could help me learn, grow, deepen my faith in Jesus Christ, and help others on their unique mortal journeys.
I felt like all my unanswerable questions about my experiences and the gospel snapped into place. I’m not saying it instantly became easy to follow all of God’s commandments and that everything made sense, but I realized that all of our experiences in mortality can contribute to helping us gain greater faith in Jesus Christ.

9:55 a.m.Missionaries dedicate a lot of time to planning, at the beginning of the day, throughout the day, and at the end of the day. They talk not just about what they’re going to do but about what each investigator needs.
Today the elders are talking about a man from France, an investigator they’re going to invite to be baptized.
“He’s worried,” Elder Triplet says. “He doesn’t feel worthy.”
“Let’s talk about repentance and how God remembers sins no more,” Elder Ward suggests after the companions think it over. “Why don’t you teach it in French to make sure he understands?”
The last thing the elders do before leaving is pray—again. This is one of many prayers they’ll offer today. Missionary work requires a lot of heavenly help. Then it’s out the door and off to the bus stop in a hurry.

11:21 a.m. A 10-minute bus ride and a short walk later, the missionaries arrive at a rented meetinghouse at the same time as their investigator. The meeting begins well, but the investigator’s concerns push the 45-minute lesson they had planned on to more than an hour.
“That was the most frustrating lesson I’ve ever been in,” Elder Triplet says afterward. “He likes the Church. He thinks it’s true. He wants to pay tithing. But he doesn’t believe he needs to be baptized again. He was a little argumentative.”
“He’s a great guy,” Elder Ward says, shaking his head. “Maybe he’ll be ready to talk about baptism next time.”

Interesting things happen in Australia when the chapel recreation hall is transformed into a “five-star” restaurant. The youth of the Frankston Ward, Melbourne Australia Moorabbin Stake, serve dinner to the “old fogies” 18 years and over.
Organized by a special youth committee, this is the second year that the young people have put on the dinner complete with entertainment, printed menus, reserved tables, and valet parking. Dressed neatly in white shirts and black trousers or skirts with red bow ties and cummerbunds, the young men and women acted as waiters while others put on a floor show and musical numbers. The young men performed the popular Waiters’ Gallop, a musical serving of dessert which ended in a shaving-cream pie fight.
Four young men known as the Waitershop Quartet also sang their way through a number of old-time songs, much to the delight of their audience.
The evening was used as a missionary tool for reaching out to inactives and nonmember friends who were either entertained or took part in the performance. As a result the youth of the Frankston Ward have become strengthened in their unity and have the confidence and experience of staging a successful night of fun and food.

Thank you for the article “No Laughing Matter” (June 1994). I have had a very similar incident happen to me at school when a girl from my gym class saw me reading the Book of Mormon before school. She told a number of her friends and they all bowed to me in class and taunted me. It made me ashamed until, just like the girl in the story, I realized that it didn’t really matter as long as I was doing what was right. Thanks for the reassurance.
Debbie WilliamsSalem, Oregon

It was the summer of 1948 and, for the seventh time, my companion and I were visiting a house in Kolding, Denmark. Each time previously, a small lady with a cane had answered the door, accepted our missionary tract, smiled, and slowly closed the door without saying a word.
We decided to try one last time to converse with her. Prepared for the usual rejection, we were surprised when her husband answered the door. His name was Marinus Mogensen. A friendly, inquisitive man, he asked many questions about the Mormons.
My companion, Elder Young, told him about the Book of Mormon, which caught his attention. We showed him a copy of the book and challenged him to read it. “I will be most happy to read your book,” Mr. Mogensen told us. “I read everything, and so why not read your Book of Mormon? Come back and visit me in two weeks and I shall have the book read.”
Two weeks later Mr. Mogensen reported that he had read the first ninety-six pages and thought it was a wonderful book. “I have read each chapter several times, and that is why it has taken me so long,” he explained. “This book is more than a novel. This is the type of book that takes a lifetime to read.” He assured us that he would continue to read the Book of Mormon and told us to keep in touch with him.
A few weeks later, we saw Mr. Mogensen driving down the street in his car. He waved and indicated that he wanted to talk to us. As we approached the car, he opened the door and said in a loud voice, “Elders, the book is true, I know it is. I have just finished reading it, and I want to buy one thousand copies from you.”
Elder Young and I were astonished. Mr. Mogensen explained that he had spent a lot of time studying the Book of Mormon and he knew by the Spirit that it was true. He wanted to share the great messages contained in the book with his fellow countrymen. He asked if we could make contact with the mission president to make the necessary arrangements.
The mission president was delighted, and the two met in order to arrange for the books to be delivered. Mr. Mogensen kept several copies of the Book of Mormon for his friends and family. He gave the rest to the missionaries to loan out to interested investigators. Many lives were blessed as a result.
Later, Brother Mogensen told Elder Young and me that he had had a dream many years earlier in which a young man came to him and gave him a book to read. He read it and it gave him much happiness and joy. Looking at Elder Young, he said, “Elder Young, you are the man that I saw in my dream many years ago.”

There’s a little more to the story about McKay Hatch and his No Cussing Club (page 33). McKay’s father, Brent, sent us some information about his son and the club he started. The club really took off but not without some kids making fun of McKay and giving him a hard time. One guy who started out hassling McKay eventually changed his way of talking, joined the club, and became one of the officers.

Emily was playing with blocks when her dad slowly walked through the front door, dropped his briefcase on the floor, walked up the stairs, and sat on his bed.
I think your daddy had a hard day. I’ll go see what is wrong after I answer the phone.
Emily knew her dad’s job was hard sometimes. She didn’t want her dad to be unhappy.Because Mom is busy and can’t help Dad right now, I will.
Emily went upstairs and quietly peeked into her parents’ bedroom. She saw Dad sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Emily remembered the words to the Primary song she sang on Sunday: “Jesus said love everyone; treat them kindly too.”
As Emily thought about the song, an idea came to her mind. She ran to her bedroom and began to hunt through her toy box. She set aside the dolls, cars, and smooth rocks until she found her favorite thing in the whole world—a beautiful red princess ring.
Emily rushed back into her parents’ room.Hi, sweetie, what’s up?Dad, I know you are sad right now. I want to give you my red princess ring. It always makes me feel better.
Emily climbed on Dad’s lap and dropped the ring into his hand.Emily, are you sure? I know this is your favorite ring.I’m sure. I want you to be happy.You make me very happy. You are my sunshine.
Emily felt warm all over as Dad gave her a big hug. She had helped Dad be happy, and that was worth all the rings in the world.

Many things changed for me the year I turned 17. I was advancing to a new school and moving on to my third year of seminary. Not only that, but I also had a new seminary teacher: my mom.
Did I mention I was the only student in her class? Since the school I was going to attend was an hour’s train ride from where I lived, my mother decided to teach me early-morning seminary at home so I would be able to reach school on time. I was fortunate to have her teach me every day, but it was also a little nerve-racking. I had to give her my fullest attention, which was especially a struggle at 5:30 in the morning.
When we were studying the Book of Mormon, we came to Moroni, a prophet I really admire. However, I’ve always wondered: Why was Moroni alone? Why didn’t Heavenly Father send someone to accompany him? Why didn’t he complain when the Lord left him all alone to finish the Book of Mormon?
My mother explained that because of his righteousness and faith in Heavenly Father, Moroni knew that he was not alone. He had Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ to help him complete the Book of Mormon. I realized then that Moroni didn’t need anyone to be physically there because he knew that someone was spiritually there, watching over him. He knew that Heavenly Father would never leave his side.
That had a huge impact on me. I now know that whenever I think I’m alone, I’m not spiritually alone since I have the companionship of the Holy Ghost, who helps me feel closer to my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. I know that as long as I have faith and trust in the Lord, I will never walk alone.
This particular lesson made an impact on my faith and my testimony of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Although I was worried about having seminary at home, I’m now grateful because it has given me special learning experiences with my mom.

Emma looked at the bright yellow rubber raft on top of the van and felt a little shiver run down her back. She’d never been rafting before, and she didn’t know what to expect.
“You’ll like the Big Eddy,” Dad was saying. He pulled their lifejackets out of the van and handed one to Emma. “It’s beautiful and exciting. Someone takes your picture right when your raft crashes through the Big Eddy.”
Emma didn’t like that word—crash.
“Let’s hurry, Dad,” her little brother Zachary said. He didn’t look nervous at all, but Emma’s stomach churned.
A raft passed them going down the river, and Emma could hear one of the men yelling over the rushing water.
“The guide in the back tells them when to paddle forward or backward, and when to stop so they won’t tip over,” Dad said.
Dad was going to be the guide in their family’s raft. She hoped he knew the right directions to tell them.
Mom and Dad put the raft into a calm place in the river and they all jumped in. The water was moving slowly for now, and Emma started to relax.
The raft bobbed around and up and down through the current. Everyone paddled when Dad said to paddle. A little water splashed up on them. Emma and Zachary laughed. Maybe this would be fun after all.
Suddenly the raft started going faster, and the sound of the water got louder. They were getting close to the Big Eddy!
Dad shouted instructions for them to go through the next rapid sideways. They paddled on the right side of the raft, but something went wrong. When the river curved, the current washed them to the other side. They tried to go back, but instead, the raft banged into a log on the riverbank.
Emma, Zachary, and Mom yelled as the water pushed against the raft. At first the water pushed them back into the river, but then another wave crashed them back against the log.
Dad tried so hard to get them out of the whirlpool that he fell overboard and the river swept him downstream toward the Big Eddy. The next surge of water tossed Mom out. Emma was terrified, but she felt prompted to grab Zachary and point to the log. Somehow they both scrambled onto it just before the raft flipped upside down and slipped out into the rapids again.
Another raft came down the river, and the guide had the people in the raft steer over until they were next to the log.
“Get in!” yelled the guide.
Zachary held back, his eyes wide. Emma was frozen in place. They both clung to the log, unable to move.
Then she remembered President Packer’s words from a conference talk she had taped to her closet door at home. He said that the Spirit will show us what to do so we don’t have to be afraid.
As she thought about those words, Emma felt less afraid. She thought that she should hold Zachary’s hand and they would make it to the raft safely. She gripped Zachary’s hand, and with the help of the guide, they scrambled into the bouncing raft. They huddled together until the guide got the raft to a calm pool of water where Mom and Dad were anxiously waiting. Dad’s arm had a cut on it, and both of Mom’s knees were scraped up, but they were OK.
They all hugged. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” Dad said.
“I was really scared, but the Spirit helped me feel brave,” Emma said. “He told me what to do.”

Late the next spring, the Sandersons boarded a steamboat and churned down the Ohio River and up the Mississippi River. They reached Nauvoo in the summer of 1843 when Henry was 14 and Nauvoo was barely four years old. Henry found young Nauvoo filled with new buildings, most of them small and made of wood, with taller brick houses here and there. Embracing the city on the west was a broad, crescent-shaped bend of the Mississippi River.
Soon after Henry’s family arrived, he hiked up the bluffs to visit the temple construction project. He walked around the 60-centimeter-high walls that workers were building skyward. He inspected the red brick store whose upper floor was the headquarters for the Church. On Main Street he found a brick post office and the Merryweather store.
The Sandersons became neighbors of Joseph Smith on Main Street, two blocks from the river. Henry’s parents moved into a log cabin next to Sidney Rigdon’s home, which stood between them and the Smiths’ new residence, the Mansion House. Henry saw workers put the final touches on the Mansion House, which the Smiths opened that September as a hotel.
Henry played with the Prophet’s sons. The oldest was Joseph Smith III, three years younger than Henry. Henry became best friends with Sidney Rigdon’s sons, Algernon and John W., who were near his age.
In Nauvoo, men and boys paid their tithing by working every 10th day on building projects. “My father and myself went regularly every 10th day to labor on the temple,” Henry said, “sometimes at the quarry and other times on the temple grounds.”
Henry, who knew and liked the Prophet, “had been to his house frequently and played with his boys and he would occasionally join us. I had been in games of ball where the Prophet was one of the players.”