Gospel Story Finder

The next day we visited St. Catwg’s church and we were met by Father Powell and his lay reader Carolynn Corbin, who showed us around this very impressive 2,000-year-old building. While chatting, my brother Richard discovered miracle number nine that Carolynn was a Parry and quite likely a very close cousin of ours. We exchanged emails and discovered that we did indeed have a common ancestor. This led to a wonderful afternoon tea and the uniting of another branch of Welsh and American lines. After just a few minutes with this family we knew we had met before.

Sarah Thompson was hurrying to gather the laundry so she could get everything finished before her husband, Ted, got home from work. She opened Melissa’s bedroom door and hurried toward her closet to retrieve the multitude of shirts, blue jeans, and socks for the washer. When she turned to leave, she realized that she wasn’t alone in the room.
“Why, Melissa, I thought you were outside playing with the rest of the children. What’s the matter, dear?”
Melissa had obviously been crying, and it took a while for her to choke out the words: “I—I don’t want to get baptized on Saturday.”
Sister Thompson quickly joined her daughter on the bed and took her in her arms. “Melissa, dear, it’s all right. But you’ve been talking about your baptism for months, and you could hardly wait for your eighth birthday. Why have you changed your mind?”
“I’m scared.”
Sister Thomspon smiled. “Melissa, you’ve been to baptisms before. What is there to be afraid of? Besides, your friends Ann and Sarah will be baptized on Saturday too. Won’t they help to give you courage?”
“But they’re different from me,” Melissa said in a soft, unsteady voice. “They’ll have their dads there to baptize them.”
Sister Thompson knew that Melissa’s nonmember father couldn’t baptize their daughter, but she had thought that Melissa was pleased that their home teacher had promised to do it. “I thought you liked Brother Adamson, dear,” she said. “He’s such a special man.”
“I love Brother Adamson,” Melissa sobbed, “but it’s not the same. He’s not Dad.”
“Sweetheart …” Sister Thompson tried to comfort her daughter. She loved her husband very much, but at the same time her own heart was breaking. She thought of all the times she had wanted to share special spiritual experiences with her husband but had been unable to. Now it was hurting their child. Maybe she had made the wrong decision when she had listened to the missionaries and had decided to be baptized. Yet she had received a strong testimony, and she had been sure that Ted would soon realize how true and good the gospel was. But that had been three years ago, and he still showed no sign of ever wanting to become a member of the Church.
“Melissa,” Sister Thompson began again gently, “do you enjoy going to Primary?”
“Oh, yes! I love the stories, and my teacher, Sister Westover, is so nice.” Melissa had stopped crying.
“Do you believe those stories?” Sister Thompson continued.
“Yes, of course I do,” Melissa answered confidently. “I know that the Church is true and that Joseph Smith was a prophet.”
“How can you show that you know it is true?” her mother urged.
Melissa realized what her mother was trying to tell her, and she knew that she would be baptized on Saturday. But without her dad to share it with—it just seemed kind of scary. Melissa smiled at her mother and said, “Maybe Dad will come to see me get baptized on Saturday. I’m going to ask him just as soon as he gets home.” Melissa went outside to wait for her dad.
Sister Thompson remained sitting on the bed, deep in thought. Ted hasn’t attended a Church meeting yet. He has gone with us to several church socials, but nothing about the gospel has really interested him. She hoped that Melissa wasn’t in for another disappointment.
Melissa saw their car turn into the driveway, and she ran across the lawn to meet her father. Ted Thompson got out of his car, took his daughter in his arms, and gave her a big hug. “What’s my little one so excited about today?” he asked with a smile.
“Oh, Daddy! I’m getting baptized on Saturday, don’t you remember?”
Mr. Thompson suddenly grew serious, “Yes, your mother told me about it.”
Melissa hurried on, not noticing her father’s concerned look. “Dad will you come and see me—will you, please? Everybody else’s father will be there. You’ll come, won’t you?” Melissa pleaded.
Mr. Thompson was caught off guard, and he didn’t know what to say. Finally he mumbled, “We’ll see. We’ll see. It’s still a long time until Saturday.”
Melissa was disappointed, but she decided that a “we’ll see” was better than a “no.” She gave her dad a final squeeze and ran next door to play with her friends.
Saturday was a beautiful, clear day, and Melissa thought that it was a perfect day for her baptism. She hadn’t talked to her father about coming with her since that day in the front yard. But he hadn’t said anything, so she assumed he would be there.
That afternoon Melissa took a long, hot bath, and her mother helped her get dressed in her prettiest Sunday dress. Hanging in the hallway waiting to be put into the car was the lovely white baptismal dress Sister Thompson had made for Melissa. When they were ready to go, Sister Thompson said, “We’d better hurry, dear, or we’ll be late.”
“I’ll get Dad,” Melissa replied. But when she entered the living room, Melissa saw that her father was still in his work clothes, reading the newspaper. “Dad, aren’t you ready for the baptism? We’ll be late!”
Mr. Thompson looked at his daughter’s anxious face and said, “Melissa, dear, I can’t go to your baptism. I’d feel out of place. I just don’t belong there. Please don’t be angry with me.”
Melissa was out of the room and running for the car before he had even finished. Sister Thompson saw the tears in her daughter’s eyes, and for the second time that week she wondered if she had made a mistake in joining the Church.
There was great excitement in the girls’ dressing room as Ann, Sarah, and Melissa changed clothes for their baptism.
“I’m so excited!” Sarah exclaimed. “Dad gave me my very own Book of Mormon. It has a leather cover, and it has my name on it and everything!”
“That’s really neat,” said Ann. “My whole family’s going over to my grandma and grandpa’s after the baptism. Grandma promised to help me start on my Book of Remembrance.”
Sarah and Ann noticed that Melissa was very quiet. “What are you going to do afterward, Melissa?” Sarah asked.
“Well, I’m not sure.” Melissa knew that they would just be going home, but she added, “Mom and Dad are probably going to surprise me.”
Melissa slipped her white dress off its hanger, and as she began to pull it over her head, she noticed a piece of paper pinned inside. She unpinned it and saw that it was in her father’s handwriting! “My dear Melissa,” she read, “I’m sorry that I won’t be there with you today. I want you to know that I am very proud of you. You have made a very important decision in your life. I only hope that I can have enough courage to make that same decision some day. Please remember that I love you very much. Daddy.”
Melissa wiped the tears from her eyes as she finished dressing. When Brother Adamson helped her down the steps of the baptismal font, Melissa had the most radiant smile that her mother had ever seen. Sister Thompson knew then that she hadn’t made a mistake three years before when she, too, had entered that same baptismal font.

Many years ago, my husband and I heard a meaningful story that we have repeated often to our children. The story is about an old rattlesnake who asked a passing young boy to carry him to the mountaintop to see one last sunset before the snake died. The boy was hesitant, but the rattlesnake promised not to bite him in exchange for the ride. After that concession, the boy kindly carried the snake to the top of the mountain where they watched the sunset together.

After carrying the snake back down to the valley floor, the boy prepared a meal for himself and a bed for the night. In the morning, the snake asked, “Please, little boy, will you take me back to my home? It is now time for me to leave this world, and I would like to return to my home.” The little boy felt he had been safe and the snake had kept his word, so he decided he would take the snake home as requested.

He carefully picked up the snake, held it close to his chest, and carried him back into the desert to his home to die. Just before he laid the rattlesnake down, the rattlesnake turned and bit him in the chest. The little boy cried out and threw the snake upon the ground. “Mr. Snake, why did you do that? Now I will surely die!” The rattlesnake looked up at him and grinned: “You knew what I was when you picked me up.”

I remember the story of Emma Smith trying to escape the persecution in Missouri. The Mississippi River was only partially frozen—not enough that a wagon with people and their possessions could travel on it. It is a wide river, and it was dangerous to cross. Emma had a six-year-old child holding onto one side of her skirt, an eight-year-old on the other side, a two-year-old in this arm, and an infant in that arm.

The sister-in-law of one of Joseph’s scribes had sewn cotton bags that buttoned around the waist. In those bags under her skirt, Emma carried the only copy of Joseph’s translation of the Bible, which he had been working on for months. With the documents and with her children, she took one step after another across that frozen river, hoping she wouldn’t fall in.

To me, that is the consummate signal of courage and faith—that when you need to do something for what you believe, you just move forward, one foot in front of the other.

I’ve been going to church my whole life. I’ve been challenged to read the Book of Mormon and pray to know if it’s true what seems like a thousand times. But I’ve never actually done it before. I had this mind-set where I thought I had to set aside a perfect night, and nothing else could be going on in my life to distract me. I was also scared that I wouldn’t get an answer. But after going to youth conference and hearing all about “Ask of God” so many times, I decided to just try it.
It was a random school night, and I asked God to help me know if the Book of Mormon was true, and then I started reading where I’d left off a few weeks ago. I started to get this feeling of calmness, and a sort of feeling that I already knew it was true. But then I started doubting, wondering whether my brain was making it up because I wanted an answer so badly. I felt really frustrated, but then I looked down at the next verse, which was 2 Nephi 29:10, and it said, “Wherefore, because that ye have a Bible ye need not suppose that it contains all my words; neither need ye suppose that I have not caused more to be written.”
The Spirit hit me so strongly, and it felt like Heavenly Father was speaking directly to me through that verse. I know that the Book of Mormon is true, and that God will answer our prayers. We don’t have to set aside a “perfect night” to ask Him.
Rebekah C., 16, Shanghai, China

I decided that it was important to my growth to fast again soon, and not wait for a whole month. This time I fasted and prayed about a decision I was having difficulty making. The pros and cons of the major alternatives seemed nearly equal, and I had been puzzling about it for several weeks. After fasting and praying about it, I suddenly knew what to do, and there was never another moment of wondering if it was the best choice.

I spoke at a devotional a couple of years ago at Ricks College, and a girl came up afterwards and said, “Brother Covey, what is the difference between a heartburn and a burning in the heart?” She was really asking, “How do I really know how God answers prayers? How do I know it’s not just me projecting my own wish and want onto God, feeling good about it, and calling it his answer?” That’s what she was asking, and I believe many of us have asked that question of ourselves.

I said to her, “When we had this little listening exercise, sister, did you feel or sense anything?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, “I know so many things I need to do to be a better person.”
“Then, sister, I suggest that you forget that question. Just do those things. If you do, you’ll become acquainted with the voice, and that will be the answer to your question. You didn’t like that answer, did you, sister?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
She said, “I have no excuse anymore.”

A year later I spoke at another Ricks devotional on another subject. She came up afterwards and said, “Brother Covey, do you remember me?”
“I can’t quite place you.”
“I was the one that asked you about the heartburn.”
“Oh yes, whatever happened to you?”
She said, “I did those things. I took it seriously. I know very clearly the difference now between the true voice and the many other voices within and without.”

I said, “For instance, what did you do?”
“I really began to study the scriptures in a serious way. My prayers were most earnest and sincere and deep. I made reconciliation with certain individuals who I had thought I could just forget because I didn’t like them. I was more cooperative at home, more helpful. I stopped procrastinating as a student, practicing self-management by crisis. I used to put off studying all the time, but I became more conscientious. I realized this was a stewardship. I started doing genealogy work. I was more pleasant with my brothers and sisters. I didn’t speak back to my parents. I just became a less defensive person.”

On a Know-Your-Religion circuit in California this last year, this same girl came up to me and said, “Would you be interested in the third installment?”
I said, “I would.”
“I can’t believe the difference in my life once I started to realize that the Holy Ghost is my own guide if I will listen to him. I can receive personal guidance and revelation, and as long as I am true to it all things will work together for my good.” She bore her testimony. There was no confusion in her mind anymore.

You know, conference is a great time for spiritual uplift, for association, and for wise counsel. With all the counsel I’ve been hearing, I couldn’t help but reminisce a little bit about the young athlete who attempted most all sports but had never tried skydiving. And so he took several theoretical courses in how to jump.
When the day came for the solo flight, he became a little fearful, so he approached his instructor and said, “I’m not sure I want to go through with this.”
The instructor said, “Don’t worry. We’ll protect you by putting two added parachutes on you.”
The plane took off and arrived at the three thousand foot level. With some fear and trepidation he was pushed out.
On the way down, at about two thousand feet, he remembered that that’s when you pull the rip cord. He did so, and the chute didn’t open. He pulled the second, and it didn’t open. He pulled the third, and it didn’t open.
To his amazement, at about that time he met in the air, coming up from the ground, another man. They passed on the way. The young parachutist shouted to his new friend, “Pardon me,” he said, “do you know anything about parachutes?”
“No,” his friend shouted back, “what do you know about Coleman lanterns?”
I suppose it seems all of us are in need of good counsel.

When I was young, I was in the same ward as President Nelson. He was my stake president. It was a pretty big ward, so I don’t think he really knew me.
But I had a special experience with him when I became a deacon. I wanted to be very reverent when I passed the sacrament. I felt it was important. So I tried to show respect for the sacrament every Sunday.
I was walking home from church one Sunday when a car pulled up next to me. The driver rolled down the window. It was President Nelson! He said, “I noticed that you were very reverent when you passed the sacrament. Thank you for doing that.”
He might not remember saying that. But I’ll never forget it. He took time to tell me that he thought I had done something good. It meant a lot to me.

The story is told of a man in a small village who because of his ingenuity and intelligence owned a very prosperous fish market. One day one of his customers came to him and said, "Everyone in our village knows that you are extremely bright and very successful. What is it that has made you so smart?" Without even pausing to reflect, the man replied, "It's the fishheads." "You mean," said the customer "that if I eat fishheads I'll be smarter?" "That's correct," said the shop owner. "How much do they cost?" asked the man. "They're $5.00 a head," said the owner. Wanting to grow smarter, the customer said, "give me three of them," and he placed $15.00 on the counter.

The next day the customer was back in the fish market. "I ate those fish heads," he said, "and not only were they terrible, but I don't feel any smarter." "You didn't eat enough of them," replied the shop owner. "How many do I need to eat?" asked the customer. "You need to eat at least ten of them," said the man. Thereupon, the customer put $50.00 on the counter and walked out of the shop with ten more fishheads.

The following day he was back. In disgust, he said that he had eaten all ten of those fishheads. "They were absolutely horrible," he said. "Why for that amount of money I could have bought ten entire large fish." "See," said the shop owner. "You're getting smarter already!"

Even though Rachael Eucker, 15, is a city girl, she and her friends and Young Women leaders from the Lindsay Ward, Val Vista Arizona Stake, had just planted an acre and a half of corn by hand. It was part of their Experiment upon the Word project for the Young Women. At the beginning of the year, Rachael and the Young Women in her ward agreed to take on a challenge. They would read the Book of Mormon and devote two Saturdays a month to a Gardening for Humanity garden. These gardens use empty lots in city areas to raise food for homeless shelters and food banks. Rachael committed to read the Book of Mormon. Then she went the extra mile and committed to help in the garden every single time her ward went.
The day after planting corn, Rachael was stiff and sore, but she knew that the good feelings she got from service would last longer than the pain. She was also able to compare her repeated days in the garden to the scriptures. “We had talked about the lasting effects of service and how you feel the effects of what you do for a long time after. That made sense to me. I was thinking that it was like when you read the scriptures and feel the Spirit. Eventually that feeling goes away, so the only way you can keep having that feeling is by going back and reading more and more.”
Then the corn didn’t grow. It had been bad seed. Again the girls were able to draw a conclusion when they heard that all their hard work was wasted. Lynn Allred, the Young Women president, told the girls, “Even though we did all we need to do—we watered it, nourished it—it didn’t grow because it was bad seed.” Now Alma 32:32 will always be vivid to them.
After spending a Saturday morning thinning carrots, Elizabeth Lassetter, 16, said, “I think the gardening we are doing is completely connected to what we are doing with the scriptures. Everything is related to how the Lord teaches through nature.”
The corn was replanted, and the melons were starting to form in another plot. The girls were busy helping to keep the weeds under control, watering daily, waiting for the day they could harvest. Again the lessons in the garden compare to the scriptures. Becky Payne, 15, said, “When we do the work, we can harvest. With the scriptures, you have to work hard to get results. You have to be consistent and put constant effort into it.”
The day for the harvest would come, and the girls would pick the fruits of their work and donate to those who are hungry. As for themselves, with their reading, the harvest is one of faith. They will “pluck the fruit, … which is sweet above all that is sweet, … and ye shall feast upon this fruit even until ye are filled, that ye hunger not” (Alma 32:42).

The garage? These girls in Pennsylvania are flocking to a garage?
It might make a little sense to Lani Atkinson, 18, who secretly wants to be a mechanic.
But what about her sisters, Cory, 12; Arin, 14; and Nicky, 17? They come from a family of 11 children and work hard for everything they get. They have their own business that involves cutting and trimming lawns in many of the historical graveyards in the area. It requires a lot of time, yet midweek, at the appointed hour, no matter where they are, the sisters toss their weed whackers in the truck, drive the mowers onto the trailer, and head for the garage.
And what about Heather Hulings? You can often find her strolling around the lake next to her home with an admiring male friend. When it’s time, she’ll run back to the house, jump in the car with her sisters Stephanie, 16; and Darcie, 12, and head for the garage. If the young men are gathering and the male friend is interested, he can come along too. He usually does.
Then there’s Carrie Guskiewicz. She could be on deck in the seventh inning with two outs and the bases loaded, but if it was the right time, she’d drop her bat, race to the car, and have her mom drive her to the garage.
Beth Humphreys is the one who will really surprise you. She’s 19, has graduated from high school, and is on scholarship hundreds of miles away at Alford University in New York. Yet she still thinks wistfully of the garage, and heads there every chance she gets when she’s home on vacation.
What is it about a garage that entices these girls to drop whatever they’re doing and gather there for midweek activities? All right, so the Young Women’s room of the Indiana Branch, Pittsburgh North Stake, doesn’t exactly look like a garage any more. Members have worked hard to convert a small private residence into a church. Kind of gives the word meetinghouse a whole new meaning. Primary meets in the former living room; the chapel is in the basement. And the garage is now a finished room with white walls, and the Young Women’s room in the corner of it has your basic posters, folding chairs, even a window.
But it really isn’t what they find in the garage that pulls them there. It’s more what they bring with them. These young women share an uncommon camaraderie among girls so varied. They belong to a group in which everyone loves each other, the older girls look out for the younger ones, and nobody feels left out.
“There’s a special sisterhood-type thing we share,” says Arin Atkinson. “The girls in the branch are just as easy to talk to as my own sisters.”
Lani, Arin’s older sister, agrees. “All of us are really pretty different from each other, but whenever we get together, no matter what our differences are, we have a great time.”
“We meet in a small house, so we have to be close,” laughs Teri Gibbs, 18. “There’s nowhere else to go. It’s neat because the Laurels are close to the Beehives and the Mia Maids are close to everyone.”
Some of these girls seem to have about as much in common with each other as Christmas and Halloween. What is it that keeps them united? What is it that makes them want to drop whatever they’re doing and gather in the garage?
Sitting in the garage with them, you begin to see. These girls go to at least five different high schools. Most of them are outnumbered about a thousand to one, when it comes to a non-Mormon to Mormon ratio. The garage and the girls there form a sort of shelter—a respite. This is where they meet with others who feel the same way they do, and who never stop encouraging each other in their lives and beliefs.
Try to get them to tell you about themselves, and they’ll talk about their friends.
“Jenny (Snyder) makes all her own clothes and they’re beautiful—she’s going to design costumes for the theater someday.”
“You’ll have to hear how well Heather (Humphreys) plays the piano. She’s really great.”
“All the boys at school respect Teri (Gibbs) so much they say she’s the cookie jar up on the shelf that every one wants but is too high to get to.”
You might think that in a group this tight, it would be a little difficult for a newcomer. But not so. Just ask Amanda Curry, 16, who started attending the branch a few months ago. Amanda is pretty and talented—in many situations, girls would be jealous. But Amanda says they welcomed her with open arms. “The girls accepted me completely,” she said. “They treat me like a sister.”
Maybe that’s why so many non-LDS people in the area are comfortable visiting. Almost every girl has a missionary story to tell.
“I’ve had one friend who has known for a long time that we are Mormons,” said Stephanie Hulings. “But I was really taken aback when she asked if she could come to my youth group with us. I took her to a fireside, and now she comes to almost all the midweek activities.”
“I’m in sixth grade and the only Mormon in my class,” said Carrie Guskiewicz. “I found out that the missionaries are visiting my teacher at school—it makes me realize I have to be a really good example.”
The girls in the branch are great examples to the non-LDS boys they sometimes date. You’ll find a handful of those boys at every baptism, joint activity, fireside, sacrament meeting, and Sunday School lesson. Some even come when the girls who invited them aren’t in attendance. Their appetites may have been whetted by the young women, but once at church, they find there’s a spiritual banquet they’d never anticipated.
It seems the LDS girls greatly outnumber the LDS boys in the area, but that doesn’t bother the girls. “We don’t have any problems with guys who don’t accept our standards,” says Lani Atkinson. “We just don’t date anyone like that.” It’s that simple.
Truly living your religion is not such an unusual thing in this part of Pennsylvania. The Amish people have been here for years, and their religion has changed little. Their horse-drawn buggies, simple, homemade clothes, and avoidance of modern machinery make them stand out. The young women have an affection for them, knowing how difficult it is to avoid the ways of the world.
“As members of the Church, we definitely stand out here. There are just a few other Mormons in our school,” says Stephanie Hulings.
Her sister Heather agrees. “Since we stand out, there’s a lot of peer pressure from others to make us like them. They want us to smoke and drink, and a lot of drugs come out here from Pittsburgh, which is about an hour and a half away. At least, by being so different, though, we have a lot of chances to tell people about our beliefs.”
Other factors that unite these girls in the garage and help them ward off worldly influences? Music is a big one. These girls can sing! You’ll hear them spontaneously harmonizing at any hour of the day or night—while they’re driving to seminary, while they’re weeding the meetinghouse lawn, while they’re doing just about anything.
They look forward to girls’ camp because it means continuous days of nonstop harmonizing. Even those who aren’t musically gifted get a thrill out of being a part of such an angelic chorus. Visitors are mesmerized when these girls start to sing.
But when the music dies down, the talking has stopped, and the investigators have gone home, there is still something that binds these girls together. It would be there whether they met in a garage or in a massive, elegant chapel. For all their varied backgrounds, they have a basic core in common. They’ve all felt the true love of Christ. That love is so wonderful to them they do their best to make it work in their lives, and they want to share it with others.
“We have seen the greatest thing on earth, the love of Christ, light up the face of a lonely, elderly woman as the Young Women brought her dinner and sang to her,” says Teri Gibbs. “We have seen that love lift a frustrated mother’s heart as the Young Women baby-sat her children so she could enjoy a night out. It is through this that I have grown closer to Heavenly Father and to other youth in the Church. We strive to be more like Christ.”
That’s why the girls are so eager to get to the garage. It’s there that they can feel and nurture the love of Christ. In the garage, they help each other recharge their batteries; then they go out and share that energy with everyone else.

The Laurel youth camp leaders (YCLs) gathered around their camp director, some with an excited gleam in their eye, others exchanging concerned glances. While they had come to this meeting to talk about the theme for this year’s Young Women camp, none of them had expected the “Fit Challenge.”
And while they might have been intimidated when they got the challenge, close to a year later these young women are still grateful for their experience in service, life balance, and spiritual and physical fitness.
The Fit Challenge was extended to the 100+ young women in their stake in Washington, USA. The young women, leaders, and even the high councilors pledged that every week for the 10 weeks before camp they would:•
Read their scriptures every day.
Exercise for 20 minutes three days a week.
Complete a service activity once a week.
Go eight hours straight without using their electronic devices once a week.
At the end of every week, they emailed the camp director some thoughts about their experiences that week and reported on the goals they completed.
The theme for the camp was “Fit for the Kingdom,” a line taken from the hymn “More Holiness Give Me” (Hymns, no. 131). The activities before and during camp taught the young women that we should all be spiritually and physically healthy in order to return to Heavenly Father. In addition to the Fit Challenge, everyone was going to run a 5K at camp, instead of the traditional hike, with the YCLs helping to give out water and direct people along the trail.
“I was a little freaked out [after the announcement] because I am not an athletic person whatsoever,” Kendra C., one of the YCLs at camp, said. “I’m terrible at sports. I’m just not coordinated enough to do it.”
After the initial “freak-out,” Kendra decided to at least try the Fit Challenge so she could keep up with the other young women when they ran the 5K. Though she didn’t suddenly come to love physical activity, she was surprised to realize that exercise was actually fun for her.
“I had to find something I enjoyed,” Kendra said. “Exercise shouldn’t be something that you don’t look forward to, that you’re afraid of. Finding something you like, whether it be dancing, walking or running, or playing a sport, is key. For me, yoga and Pilates make me feel really good.”
Hailey B., 15, was also nervous about the 5K. She had always come in last in mile-long races at school, and she didn’t have much hope that this time would be any different. But when she was able to improve her time and finish in the middle of the pack, she felt on top of the world.
“I finished the 5K in the middle of the group, which I was happy about,” Hailey said. “Now I figure I can finish other hard things in my life too—like school.”
Elena R., 13 , also felt nervous about camp but for a different reason. She was excited to accept the Fit Challenge and to share what she was doing with her friends at school, but she was worried they might make fun of her. She invited one of her friends who is not a Church member to participate in the Fit Challenge with her, and to her surprise, the friend accepted. The two finished the challenge and went to camp together.
“I just felt like this would be a really great opportunity for her to learn about the gospel,” Elena said. “I was really excited that she was reading the Book of Mormon every day. I thought Young Women camp would be a great time to learn about the Church because we’d be around girls our age who are part of the Church.”
Though the Fit Challenge ended after Young Women camp, the young women in the stake have kept the habits they learned during the challenge.
“On a Friday afternoon an opportunity came up to go visit a new girl in our ward,” Emma H., 15, said. “No one wanted to do it, including me. But I think the idea of helping someone else and sacrificing my time was something I was more used to after the Fit Challenge and more used to saying yes to. I said I’d go, and I went and had a super great visit with one of the Beehives. We got her to come watch the general women’s session of conference with us. It was cool because she seemed to have wanted us to come by.”
“When you are asked to do something, whether it’s by a leader in your ward or your stake or a prompting from Heavenly Father, you should act on that,” she continued. “Try something new, work a little harder to be a little better. Those practices can really change your life if you let them.”
The young women found that the 10-week Fit Challenge and Young Women camp helped them make and keep good habits.
“Every day I’ve been reading my scriptures and not focusing on worldly things for a few minutes,” Josette P., 16, said. “Just spending a little bit of time on it before I go to bed has made me feel closer to the Lord.”
Kendra agreed. “The Fit Challenge has really helped me,” she said. “I’ve started Running Start [a concurrent college-in-high-school program], so I have to balance a lot of activities. I think the challenge prepared me for it—like keeping up with homework but also finding time to serve, take a break from technology, and get my seminary reading done.
“When you’re spiritually and physically fit, you can be more prepared to go out and serve others, like your neighbors around you. I think it’s very important to be both.”

My second example concerns my father, Michael Herbut, who passed away in August 1999. Throughout his life Dad liked to buy things. Shortly before he died he purchased several rosebushes from a catalog and, since he had no garden of his own, bequeathed them to my sister. Although Alberta is Wild Rose Country, domestic roses are very hard to grow there. But my sister wanted to try, and that spring I went up to help her plant the rosebushes. Being a good gardener, she did all she could to assure that the roses would survive. And they did, for a while, in what she named the Michael Herbut Rose Garden. The summer after Dad passed away, while I was visiting my sister, one of the rosebushes was coming into bloom. It was at least the second season that the bush had flowered. Never before had a flower on that bush been anything but pure yellow. At this particular time, however, the rose that was blooming was tinged with pink around the top of the petals, and subsequently the yellow flowers on this bush continued to bloom with pink edges. A tender miracle? I think so.

Although it’s been nearly 28 years since I graduated high school, it doesn’t seem that long ago. I was so excited to graduate and go to college at that time. I knew what I wanted to study. For as long as I can remember, I had dreamed of becoming a mechanical/aerospace engineer. I was fascinated with aircraft, energy conversion, and all kinds of mechanical objects. I wanted to learn how to improve the world by creating something new and innovative. I was thrilled to start taking my classes. At this time, I didn’t really think about asking the Lord if this was what He wanted me to do. I’m sure I assumed that because I had been planning this for as long as I could remember, it would be what the Lord wanted for me. As I started my first classes, I found different challenges. First, my calculus class was taught by a graduate student from China whom I could barely understand. Very quickly, I started to fall behind, and after failing my first midterm, I decided I needed to drop the class. As I got into my first general chemistry class, I soon learned that chemistry and I didn’t mix very well. Although I felt I was having a rough start, I absolutely loved my first engineering class. I persevered over the next few semesters, determined to do better, for I felt I was meant to be an engineer.

As the time got closer for me to put my mission papers in, I really started pondering and praying about if a mission was right for me. It seemed like such a sacrifice and I thought putting my education on hold for two years would be so difficult. While seeking an answer, I remembered attending the many mission farewells for my cousins. As I went to their homecomings, I remember being so impressed with the spiritual giants they had become. I decided to move forward in faith that the Lord knew what was best for me and in 1996, I was called to the England London South Mission. I will always be eternally grateful for this decision. Not only through this experience was I able to witness many wonderful miracles while teaching the gospel of Jesus Christ, I was also able to meet and baptize my eternal companion. My wife likes to remind me of what the consequences would have been if I had not chosen to serve.

Toward the end of my mission, I decided that I really wanted to understand the Lord’s will for me. I started to sincerely fast and pray about what the Lord wanted me to do with my life. Very quickly, I received a distinct impression: “Roy, you are not to go into engineering.” This hit me like a ton of bricks. Didn’t the Lord know that this was one of my greatest desires? How was I to move forward without having something that I thought was so key to my identity? But I could not deny the inspiration I had received.

One winter morning I awoke to several inches of snow. A native of central California, I was not accustomed to snow and was dreading the uphill walk to the temple. But instead of rationalizing and staying home, I put on warm boots, carried my church shoes, and started my walk to the temple.
When I arrived, I was greeted by a familiar temple worker who was pleased to see that I had made the trek despite the gloomy weather. Once inside, I felt a sense of triumph mixed with gratitude. I realized, just as the prophet had asked, that I had become “a temple-attending and a temple-loving” person.

Marcus and Sara threw open the door to their apartment building.
“Beat you up the stairs!” Marcus yelled to his friend as he started running up the first flight. Sara bounded right behind him, laughing and running as fast as she could.
As they reached the third floor, old Mr. Sharp stuck out his bald head and shouted at them—as usual. “I’ve told you kids a hundred times to quiet down. The whole building shakes when you two get home from school! Now, learn how to walk!”
Marcus heard the door slam hard as he reached his own apartment door on the fourth floor. Sara was still right behind him. “That old grump,” she complained as they entered the apartment, “I bet he never was a little kid.”
“Mom! Mom! I’m home!” shouted Marcus.
“I’m in here, Marcus,” came Mom’s muffled voice from his bedroom. “In your closet. I’ve been trying to clean out this disaster area,” she explained when they reached the room. “It looks like a trash heap. You’ll have to quit just throwing things in here.”
The closet was one of Marcus’s favorite places because it was one of the newer parts of the old building.
“Sorry, Mom,” said Marcus. “Let me finish cleaning it,” he offered halfheartedly.
Mom crawled out of the closet, and he took her place amid the jumble.
“You have only an hour or so before dinner,” Mom said as she left the room, “so you’ll have to hurry.”
“Sorry, Sara. I guess I won’t be able to play today,” Marcus apologized.
“Oh, that’s OK. We have one of those big closets, too, but ours is in the living room. It hides a radiator, just like yours does. My sister and I throw all our junk in it, and our mom gets sore too.”
Marcus was puzzled. “You have an old radiator too?”
“Yes. Every apartment in the building has one someplace. When they remodeled and put in electric heat, they didn’t bother pulling out the old radiators. They just built these closets around them. Well, see you later.”
Marcus turned to the task before him. He really didn’t mind all that much, because it was like being alone in another world. He began stacking his books in one corner. On the very top of the pile, he noticed a book about codes that he had used for a school project. He opened it up and saw one of his favorites—the International Morse Code. A click followed by a short space is the signal for a dot. A click followed by a long space is the signal for a dash. A series of dots and dashes are translated into letters, words, and numbers. It had taken a lot of practice, but Marcus had gotten pretty good at understanding the code.
Picking up a spoon, Marcus started banging around to practice. He hit the pipe that came out of the side of the radiator and ran down through the floor. It made a lovely clanking sound that echoed through the pipe. Perfect, Marcus thought. He started practicing: A, B, C, D. It took him a while, as he was a bit rusty at it, but he was soon able to tap out the letters of the alphabet and numbers one through nine and zero.
Suddenly Marcus heard someone else’s tapping coming through the pipe. What could it be? he wondered. He listened again, grabbed a crayon off the floor, and began to write as the message came very slowly: “H E L L O.” He couldn’t believe it. “Who could it be?” he murmured.
It came again: “H E L L O.”
Marcus still couldn’t believe it. He tapped back a very slow “H E L L O.”
“Time for dinner, Marcus,” Mom called, so Marcus tapped out a quick “B Y E.”
The next day he could hardly wait to get home from school. He ran upstairs, automatically hollered hello to Mr. Sharp, and heard the old gentleman’s door slam just as he reached his own front door. He ran straight to his closet, picked up his spoon, and started tapping out the message he had worked on at school:
“A R E Y O U T H E R E?” He tapped the message several times. And then an answer came: “Y E S.” Marcus next tapped: “ W H O A R E Y O U?”
The answer came slowly: “A F R I E N D.”
Every day Marcus planned a message to send to his new friend. Sometimes his mom helped, and sometimes Sara had a good suggestion. He learned that his Morse-code friend’s favorite color was blue, that his favorite sport was baseball, that his friend liked cats, and that his favorite food was spaghetti. Marcus also learned that his friend didn’t like to watch much television but preferred to listen to his record player and radio.
One Friday afternoon Marcus and Sara were late getting home from school. Running pell-mell up the stairs, they hoped that Marcus’s Morse-code friend would be sending a message. As they ran into his room, they could already hear tapping sounds coming from the pipes. Marcus was pleased, and he quickly picked up a pencil to record the message. It was a strange message, just three letters repeated over and over: “S O S. S O S. S O S. ”
“That’s a distress signal,” Sara told him. “Your friend must be in trouble!”
Marcus yelled, “Mom, come quick! It’s my friend. He needs help!”
Mom came running into the room, and Marcus showed the message to his mother.
Calmly she said, “Marcus, signal your friend. Ask him where he is.”
Marcus tapped: “W H E R E?” The answer came back slowly: “3 3. 3 3.”
“Thirty-three—what does he mean, Mom?”
Suddenly they all realized what it meant: apartment 33!
They ran down the stairs to Mr. Sharp’s apartment. Finding the door unlocked, they all pushed inside. There was Mr. Sharp, lying on the floor and still feebly tapping out his message with his cane on the radiator pipe.
It was a long time before Marcus and Sara saw Mr. Sharp again. After he went away in the ambulance, things just weren’t the same. Even Sara said that she missed him. Then one day Mr. Sharp’s son called to say that Mr. Sharp was home from the hospital and wanted to see Marcus. Mom explained that Mr. Sharp had had a stroke. He could still think, but he could not yet talk.
Marcus went downstairs and knocked on the door of apartment 33. After a moment a friendly man opened the door. “You must be Marcus,” he said, shaking the boy’s hand. “I’m Michael, Mr. Sharp’s son.”
“Oh, hi,” said Marcus. “Where’s Mr. Sharp? He’ll be OK, won’t he?”
“Marcus, my dad is very, very sick. He can’t do a lot of the things that he used to do, so I’m going to live here with him for a while. But he’s been looking forward to seeing you. Come on, let’s go to his bedroom and see him.”
Marcus walked over to Mr. Sharp’s bed and squeezed his friend’s hand. Mr. Sharp smiled back. Picking up a spoon from his lunch tray, he tapped a message on his water glass:
— •••• •— —• —•— •••“__ __ __ __ __ __••—• •—• •• • —• —•• __ __ __ __ __ __.”
(Can you decipher the message?)
A •—
J •— — —
S •••
2 ••— — —
B —•••
K •—•
T —
3 •••— —
C —•—•
L •—••
U ••—
4 •••• —
D —••
M — —
V •••—
5 •••••
E •
N —•
W •— —
6 —••••
F ••—•
O — — —
X —••—
7 — —•••
G — —•
P •— —•
Y —•— —
8 — — —••
H ••••
Q — —•—
Z — —••
9 — — — —•
I ••
R •—•
1 •— — — —
0 — — — — —
Answer:

The weather was beautiful, and we were nearing the end of another marvelous week at girls’ camp. As youth camp leaders we gathered the rest of the young women and began the transition from the light-hearted fun of the afternoon to the more reverent atmosphere we desired for that evening’s program. One of the leaders suggested we sing some hymns.
We clustered together and started singing. As we sang, I noticed someone was a little out of tune. I thought someone was being silly, so I glanced sideways at those near me. But when I listened more closely, I realized who it was.
One of the youth camp leaders with us that year had Down syndrome. She had a tremendous spirit and loved each of us without reserve. And we loved her. She sang with all her heart, often being touched by many of the words that most of us mouthed without really thinking about them.
I reflected on how many times Alisa had been the one to go up to one of the girls who needed a hug. I remembered how dedicated she was to the gospel. I recalled her sweet testimony at the many youth conferences we had been to. And then I realized how many times Alisa felt the Spirit when the rest of us were too busy, too silly, or too tired.
I suddenly understood that Alisa was in tune where it really mattered. She was in tune with the Spirit. As long as she stayed on the path she was on and followed the guidance of the Holy Spirit, someday she would likely raise her voice in perfect harmony with a heavenly choir to sing praises to our Lord. For now, though, the most important thing was to be in tune spiritually.

Let me give you an example of how important it is to put first things first if you are to be successful in life. As a boy I was raised on a farm, where I remained until I went away to school. I had observed how a farmer on one side of the road was very successful, while one on the other side was almost a failure as a farmer. What made the difference? They received the same amount of sunshine and rain. They planted the same kind of seeds. But one had beautiful and bounteous crops, while the other had no harvest or a poor one.

I observed that the successful farmer worked at his job. He would do his plowing, discing, harrowing, seeding, and harvesting in the proper season and at the proper time, while his neighbor was procrastinating, or off hunting and fishing while the work was still to be done. We must learn to set our priorities straight. No one can be successful in his line of work unless he works at it in the proper season and plays in the proper season.

There was once a young man who did not understand the importance of practicing the piano. When his parents insisted, he practiced. He wasn’t always happy about it, but always obeyed. Later in his life, while sharing his musical talent, his mother helped him see how practicing the piano blessed him and others. Practicing now is like preparing for better things yet to come. The challenge is to see the future benefits of our actions.