Another such circumstance was described in an Ensign article by BYU professor Arthur R. Bassett:
I was troubled when one person whispered to another all through the opening prayer. The guilty parties were not hard to spot because they continued whispering all through the class. I kept glaring at them, hoping that they would take the hint, but they didn’t seem to notice. Several times during the hour, I was tempted to ask them to take their conversation outside if they felt it was so urgent—but fortunately something kept me from giving vent to my feelings.
After the class, one of them came to me and apologized that she hadn’t explained to me before class that her friend was deaf. The friend could read lips, but since I was discussing—as I often do—with my back to the class, writing at the chalkboard and talking over my shoulder, my student had been “translating” for her friend, telling her what I was saying. To this day I am thankful that both of us were spared the embarrassment that might have occurred had I given vent to a judgment made without knowing the facts. [Arthur R. Bassett, “Floods, Winds, and the Gates of Hell,” Ensign, June 1991, p. 8]
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Judge Not and Judging
Summary: Arthur R. Bassett was annoyed during class when one student whispered continually to another and he nearly rebuked them. After class he learned that one friend was deaf and the other had been translating his comments because he often spoke with his back to the class. He was grateful he had not acted on a mistaken judgment.
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👤 Youth
👤 Friends
👤 Other
A Priceless Heritage of Hope
Summary: Heinrich Eyring, born into wealth in Germany, became an orphan and penniless, then chose to go to America seeking hope. In St. Louis he studied Latter-day Saint teachings, prayed, and dreamed he should be baptized by Elder William Brown, which occurred in 1855. He faithfully served multiple missions, including six years in the Indian Territories and additional calls in Utah, Germany, and Mexico, ultimately being buried in Colonia Juárez. He left a written history and example of diligence in attending meetings, creating an inheritance of hope for his descendants.
You and I have been blessed with the promise of such an inheritance. I owe much of my happiness in life to a man I never met in mortal life. He was an orphan who became one of my great-grandparents. He left me a priceless heritage of hope. Let me tell you some of the part he played in creating that inheritance for me.
His name was Heinrich Eyring. He was born into great wealth. His father, Edward, had a large estate in Coburg, in what is now Germany. His mother was Viscountess Charlotte Von Blomberg. Her father was the keeper of the lands of the king of Prussia.
Heinrich was Charlotte and Edward’s first son. Charlotte died at the age of 31, after the birth of her third child. Edward died soon thereafter, having lost all his property and wealth in a failed investment. He was only 40 years of age. He left three orphaned children.
Heinrich, my great-grandfather, had lost both of his parents and a great worldly inheritance. He was penniless. He recorded in his history that he felt his best hope lay in going to America. Although he had neither family nor friends there, he had a feeling of hope about going to America. He first went to New York City. Later he moved to St. Louis, Missouri.
In St. Louis one of his co-workers was a Latter-day Saint. From him he obtained a copy of a pamphlet written by Elder Parley P. Pratt. He read it and then studied every word he could obtain about the Latter-day Saints. He prayed to know if there really were angels that appeared to men, whether there was a living prophet, and whether he had found a true and revealed religion.
After two months of careful study and prayer, Heinrich had a dream in which he was told he was to be baptized. A man whose name and priesthood I hold in sacred memory, Elder William Brown, was to perform the ordinance. Heinrich was baptized in a pool of rainwater on March 11, 1855, at 7:30 in the morning.
I believe that Heinrich Eyring knew then that what I am teaching you today is true. He knew that the happiness of eternal life comes through family bonds which continue forever. Even when he had so recently found the Lord’s plan of happiness, he knew that his hope for eternal joy depended on the free choices of others to follow his example. His hope of eternal happiness depended on people not yet born.
As a part of our family’s inheritance of hope, he left a history to his descendants.
In that history I can feel his love for those of us who would follow him. In his words I feel his hope that his descendants might choose to follow him on the path back to our heavenly home. He knew it would not be one great choice to make to do so but many small choices. I quote from his history:
“From the time I first heard Elder Andrus speak … I have always attended the meeting of the Latter day Saints and the instances are very rare indeed, when I [have] failed to go to meeting, it being at the same time my duty to do so.
“I name this in my history that my children may imitate my example and never neglect this … important duty [to assemble] with the Saints.”
Heinrich knew that in sacrament meetings we could renew our promise to always remember the Savior and have His Spirit to be with us.
It was that Spirit that sustained him on the mission to which he was called only a few months after accepting the baptismal covenant. He left as his heritage his example of staying faithful to his mission for six years in what was then called the Indian Territories. To receive his release from his mission, he walked and joined a wagon train from Oklahoma to Salt Lake City, a distance of approximately 1,100 miles (1,770 km).
Soon thereafter he was called by the prophet of God to move to southern Utah. From there he answered another call to serve a mission in his native Germany. He then accepted the invitation of an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ to help build up the Latter-day Saint colonies in northern Mexico. From there he was called to Mexico City as a full-time missionary again. He honored those calls. He lies buried in a small cemetery in Colonia Juárez, Chihuahua, Mexico.
I recite these facts not to claim greatness for him or for what he did or for his descendants. I recite those facts to honor him for the example of faith and hope that was in his heart.
He accepted those calls because of his faith that the resurrected Christ and our Heavenly Father had appeared to Joseph Smith in a grove of trees in the state of New York. He accepted them because he had faith that the priesthood keys in the Lord’s Church had been restored with the power to seal families forever, if only they had sufficient faith to keep their covenants.
Some of Heinrich Eyring’s descendants have seemed to wander. But many of his great-great-grandchildren go to temples of God at 6:00 in the morning to perform ordinances for ancestors they have never met. They go out of the heritage of hope he left. He left an inheritance that is being claimed by many of his descendants.
His name was Heinrich Eyring. He was born into great wealth. His father, Edward, had a large estate in Coburg, in what is now Germany. His mother was Viscountess Charlotte Von Blomberg. Her father was the keeper of the lands of the king of Prussia.
Heinrich was Charlotte and Edward’s first son. Charlotte died at the age of 31, after the birth of her third child. Edward died soon thereafter, having lost all his property and wealth in a failed investment. He was only 40 years of age. He left three orphaned children.
Heinrich, my great-grandfather, had lost both of his parents and a great worldly inheritance. He was penniless. He recorded in his history that he felt his best hope lay in going to America. Although he had neither family nor friends there, he had a feeling of hope about going to America. He first went to New York City. Later he moved to St. Louis, Missouri.
In St. Louis one of his co-workers was a Latter-day Saint. From him he obtained a copy of a pamphlet written by Elder Parley P. Pratt. He read it and then studied every word he could obtain about the Latter-day Saints. He prayed to know if there really were angels that appeared to men, whether there was a living prophet, and whether he had found a true and revealed religion.
After two months of careful study and prayer, Heinrich had a dream in which he was told he was to be baptized. A man whose name and priesthood I hold in sacred memory, Elder William Brown, was to perform the ordinance. Heinrich was baptized in a pool of rainwater on March 11, 1855, at 7:30 in the morning.
I believe that Heinrich Eyring knew then that what I am teaching you today is true. He knew that the happiness of eternal life comes through family bonds which continue forever. Even when he had so recently found the Lord’s plan of happiness, he knew that his hope for eternal joy depended on the free choices of others to follow his example. His hope of eternal happiness depended on people not yet born.
As a part of our family’s inheritance of hope, he left a history to his descendants.
In that history I can feel his love for those of us who would follow him. In his words I feel his hope that his descendants might choose to follow him on the path back to our heavenly home. He knew it would not be one great choice to make to do so but many small choices. I quote from his history:
“From the time I first heard Elder Andrus speak … I have always attended the meeting of the Latter day Saints and the instances are very rare indeed, when I [have] failed to go to meeting, it being at the same time my duty to do so.
“I name this in my history that my children may imitate my example and never neglect this … important duty [to assemble] with the Saints.”
Heinrich knew that in sacrament meetings we could renew our promise to always remember the Savior and have His Spirit to be with us.
It was that Spirit that sustained him on the mission to which he was called only a few months after accepting the baptismal covenant. He left as his heritage his example of staying faithful to his mission for six years in what was then called the Indian Territories. To receive his release from his mission, he walked and joined a wagon train from Oklahoma to Salt Lake City, a distance of approximately 1,100 miles (1,770 km).
Soon thereafter he was called by the prophet of God to move to southern Utah. From there he answered another call to serve a mission in his native Germany. He then accepted the invitation of an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ to help build up the Latter-day Saint colonies in northern Mexico. From there he was called to Mexico City as a full-time missionary again. He honored those calls. He lies buried in a small cemetery in Colonia Juárez, Chihuahua, Mexico.
I recite these facts not to claim greatness for him or for what he did or for his descendants. I recite those facts to honor him for the example of faith and hope that was in his heart.
He accepted those calls because of his faith that the resurrected Christ and our Heavenly Father had appeared to Joseph Smith in a grove of trees in the state of New York. He accepted them because he had faith that the priesthood keys in the Lord’s Church had been restored with the power to seal families forever, if only they had sufficient faith to keep their covenants.
Some of Heinrich Eyring’s descendants have seemed to wander. But many of his great-great-grandchildren go to temples of God at 6:00 in the morning to perform ordinances for ancestors they have never met. They go out of the heritage of hope he left. He left an inheritance that is being claimed by many of his descendants.
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👤 Early Saints
👤 Missionaries
👤 Church Members (General)
Apostle
Baptism
Baptisms for the Dead
Conversion
Covenant
Endure to the End
Faith
Family
Family History
Holy Ghost
Hope
Joseph Smith
Missionary Work
Obedience
Plan of Salvation
Priesthood
Revelation
Sacrament
Sacrament Meeting
Sealing
Temples
Testimony
The Restoration
The Way of the Master
Summary: As a child, Paul frequently called the telephone operator, “Information, Please,” who kindly helped him with questions and comforted him when his canary died. Years later, he reached her again and learned her name was Sally; she cherished his calls. On returning months later, he learned she had died but left him a final message echoing the comfort she once gave him, showing mutual compassion across years.
Long years ago I was touched by a story which illustrated love of neighbor between a small boy named Paul and a telephone operator he had never met. These were the days many will remember with nostalgia but which a new generation will never experience.
Paul related the story: “When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember that the shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but I used to listen with fascination when Mother would talk to it. Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was ‘Information, Please,’ and there was nothing she did not know. ‘Information, Please’ could supply anybody’s number and the correct time.
“I learned that if I stood on a stool, I could reach the telephone. I called ‘Information, Please’ for all sorts of things. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my arithmetic, too.
“Then there was the time that Petey, our pet canary, died. I called ‘Information, Please’ and told her the sad story. She listened and then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was unconsoled. ‘Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers, feet up, on the bottom of the cage?’ I asked.
“She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, ‘Paul, always remember that there are other worlds in which to sing.’ Somehow I felt better.
“All this took place in a small town near Seattle. Then we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. ‘Information, Please’ belonged to that old wooden box back home, and I somehow never thought of trying to call her. The memories of those childhood conversations never really left me; often in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
“Later, when I went west to college, my plane made a stop in Seattle,” Paul continued. “I called ‘Information, Please,’ and when, miraculously, I heard that familiar voice, I said to her, ‘I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?’
“‘I wonder,’ she said, ‘if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children, and I used to look forward to your calls.’ I told her how often I had thought of her over the years, and I asked if I could call her again when I came back west.
“‘Please do,’ she said. ‘Just ask for Sally.’
“Only three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, ‘Information,’ and I asked for Sally. ‘Are you a friend?’ the woman asked.
“‘Yes, a very old friend,’ I replied.
“‘Then I’m sorry to have to tell you. Sally has only been working part-time the last few years because she was ill. She died five weeks ago.’ But before I could hang up, she said, ‘Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?’
“‘Yes,’ I responded.
“‘Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down. Here it is—I’ll read it. Tell him I still say there are other worlds in which to sing. He’ll know what I mean.’
“I thanked her and hung up,” said Paul. “I did know what Sally meant.”
Sally, the telephone operator, and Paul, the boy—the man—were in reality good Samaritans to each other.
Paul related the story: “When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember that the shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but I used to listen with fascination when Mother would talk to it. Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was ‘Information, Please,’ and there was nothing she did not know. ‘Information, Please’ could supply anybody’s number and the correct time.
“I learned that if I stood on a stool, I could reach the telephone. I called ‘Information, Please’ for all sorts of things. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my arithmetic, too.
“Then there was the time that Petey, our pet canary, died. I called ‘Information, Please’ and told her the sad story. She listened and then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was unconsoled. ‘Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers, feet up, on the bottom of the cage?’ I asked.
“She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, ‘Paul, always remember that there are other worlds in which to sing.’ Somehow I felt better.
“All this took place in a small town near Seattle. Then we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. ‘Information, Please’ belonged to that old wooden box back home, and I somehow never thought of trying to call her. The memories of those childhood conversations never really left me; often in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
“Later, when I went west to college, my plane made a stop in Seattle,” Paul continued. “I called ‘Information, Please,’ and when, miraculously, I heard that familiar voice, I said to her, ‘I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?’
“‘I wonder,’ she said, ‘if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children, and I used to look forward to your calls.’ I told her how often I had thought of her over the years, and I asked if I could call her again when I came back west.
“‘Please do,’ she said. ‘Just ask for Sally.’
“Only three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, ‘Information,’ and I asked for Sally. ‘Are you a friend?’ the woman asked.
“‘Yes, a very old friend,’ I replied.
“‘Then I’m sorry to have to tell you. Sally has only been working part-time the last few years because she was ill. She died five weeks ago.’ But before I could hang up, she said, ‘Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?’
“‘Yes,’ I responded.
“‘Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down. Here it is—I’ll read it. Tell him I still say there are other worlds in which to sing. He’ll know what I mean.’
“I thanked her and hung up,” said Paul. “I did know what Sally meant.”
Sally, the telephone operator, and Paul, the boy—the man—were in reality good Samaritans to each other.
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👤 Children
👤 Other
Charity
Children
Death
Friendship
Grief
Kindness
President Kimball Speaks Out on Tithing
Summary: The speaker and his sister sold extra potatoes from the family garden. When they planned how to use the money, their father reminded them about tithing and explained that God provided the earth, sunshine, and moisture. They chose to pay tithing, feeling it was an honor.
To the west of our home was our garden plot. Part of the garden was in potatoes. One day my father said to my sister and me, “There are more potatoes than we can use. If you would like to sell some, you may do so.” My sister Alice and I dug some up and hauled them down to a hotel and sold them. When we showed the money to our father, he asked what we were going to do with it. We said we would divide it before buying some things we wanted. Then he questioned, “What about your tithing?” He said, “The Lord has been good to us. We planted and cultivated and harvested, but the earth is the Lord’s. He sent the moisture and the sunshine. One-tenth we always give back to the Lord for his part.” My father made no requirement; he merely explained it so convincingly that we felt it an honor and privilege to pay tithing.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
Family
Gratitude
Parenting
Stewardship
Tithing
More Important Than Basketball
Summary: In college, the narrator's teammate Devin Durrant asked how it felt to make a game-winning shot and then testified that such a feeling can't compare to the joy of teaching and baptizing on a mission. The narrator never forgot this counsel, which helped him prepare for missionary service.
Someone else who loved basketball helped me prepare for my mission too. His name is Devin Durrant, and he was one of my teammates in college. He became my hero.
He asked me if I knew what it felt like to make the winning shot in a basketball game. I said yes. Then he said, “It’s great. But it can’t compare to how you’ll feel when you teach and baptize someone on your mission.” I never forgot that.
He asked me if I knew what it felt like to make the winning shot in a basketball game. I said yes. Then he said, “It’s great. But it can’t compare to how you’ll feel when you teach and baptize someone on your mission.” I never forgot that.
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👤 Young Adults
👤 Church Members (General)
Baptism
Friendship
Missionary Work
Teaching the Gospel
Parable of the Ketchup
Summary: Carrie and her younger brother argue over pushing a grocery cart, and Carrie accidentally smashes two ketchup bottles. Their mom helps them handle it calmly, and Carrie decides to pay for the broken bottles. Although it costs her savings, she feels relief after making things right.
Carrie hurried around the corner of the grocery store aisle, trying to keep the cart out of the reach of her six-year-old brother, Andy.
“No fair!” he cried. “You’ve pushed it the whole time we’ve been here.” He tried to grab the cart, but nine-year-old Carrie twisted it away quickly, accidentally hitting a row of ketchup bottles lined up neatly on a shelf. Two of the bottles crashed to the floor, shattering and spraying the bright red contents everywhere. The two children stared in horror at the broken glass and scarlet ketchup.
Mom came around the corner just then, saying, “I want you two to stay with me. …” Her words trailed off as she saw the mess on the floor and the misery on Carrie and Andy’s faces.
“It looks like there’s been an accident,” she said. “It’s all right. Sometimes things break and have to be cleaned up. There’s no use crying over spilt ketchup.”
Mom found a clerk, who cleaned up the mess without getting mad at Carrie or Andy. Carrie still felt terrible. She knew it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been swinging the cart to keep it away from Andy. Before they left the store, she quietly told Mom how the bottles had been broken. Mom listened solemnly while Andy stood with a scared expression on his face.
“Are we in trouble?” Andy asked, struggling to keep from crying.
Mom hugged Andy. “No, I think you feel badly enough about what happened that you’ll be more careful in the grocery store from now on. But, Carrie, what do you think you need to do to make up for the store losing those two bottles of ketchup?”
“I think I need to pay for them. I didn’t mean to break them, but it was still my fault.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Mom said. “I can lend you the money for now, and you can pay me back at home.”
At the cash register, Mom explained that Carrie had been playing around with the cart when the bottles broke, and so she wanted to pay for them. The clerk thanked Carrie for being so honest, and Carrie felt much better.
At home, Carrie didn’t feel quite as good when she gave Mom part of the money she’d been saving for a tape player, but she was still glad she didn’t have that sick feeling in her stomach that she had felt when the bottles exploded on the floor. She remembered how red everything looked. She had been afraid she would see that stain on the floor forever, reminding her of her mistake, but it had come clean with a wet mop.
“No fair!” he cried. “You’ve pushed it the whole time we’ve been here.” He tried to grab the cart, but nine-year-old Carrie twisted it away quickly, accidentally hitting a row of ketchup bottles lined up neatly on a shelf. Two of the bottles crashed to the floor, shattering and spraying the bright red contents everywhere. The two children stared in horror at the broken glass and scarlet ketchup.
Mom came around the corner just then, saying, “I want you two to stay with me. …” Her words trailed off as she saw the mess on the floor and the misery on Carrie and Andy’s faces.
“It looks like there’s been an accident,” she said. “It’s all right. Sometimes things break and have to be cleaned up. There’s no use crying over spilt ketchup.”
Mom found a clerk, who cleaned up the mess without getting mad at Carrie or Andy. Carrie still felt terrible. She knew it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been swinging the cart to keep it away from Andy. Before they left the store, she quietly told Mom how the bottles had been broken. Mom listened solemnly while Andy stood with a scared expression on his face.
“Are we in trouble?” Andy asked, struggling to keep from crying.
Mom hugged Andy. “No, I think you feel badly enough about what happened that you’ll be more careful in the grocery store from now on. But, Carrie, what do you think you need to do to make up for the store losing those two bottles of ketchup?”
“I think I need to pay for them. I didn’t mean to break them, but it was still my fault.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Mom said. “I can lend you the money for now, and you can pay me back at home.”
At the cash register, Mom explained that Carrie had been playing around with the cart when the bottles broke, and so she wanted to pay for them. The clerk thanked Carrie for being so honest, and Carrie felt much better.
At home, Carrie didn’t feel quite as good when she gave Mom part of the money she’d been saving for a tape player, but she was still glad she didn’t have that sick feeling in her stomach that she had felt when the bottles exploded on the floor. She remembered how red everything looked. She had been afraid she would see that stain on the floor forever, reminding her of her mistake, but it had come clean with a wet mop.
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👤 Children
👤 Parents
👤 Other
Agency and Accountability
Children
Honesty
Parenting
Repentance
Helping Youth Have Spiritual Experiences
Summary: Newly called Young Women president KaYan Danise Mok prayed for how to help her youth. Prompted during a lesson, she began a joint goal with a young woman to read the Book of Mormon together, using a buddy system via Facebook and texts. The youth’s life changed noticeably, and Sister Mok also received answers and felt the Spirit during her own study.
Soon after graduating from Brigham Young University–Hawaii, KaYan Danise Mok returned home to Hong Kong and received a calling as Young Women president. While she adjusted to being home, starting a career, and continuing with graduate studies, she prayed earnestly for inspiration to help the young women she worked with develop testimonies to prepare them for the future.
One Sunday while she was teaching about eternal perspective, Sister Mok recognized a prompting to read the Book of Mormon with a particular young woman, who happened to be the only one at church that day.
“My counselor and I responded quickly by setting goals to complete the Book of Mormon as a team with the young woman,” Sister Mok says. “She accepted the challenge without hesitation since we would be completing the goal together.”
Since that time, Sister Mok, her counselor, and this young woman have set up a “buddy system” on Facebook and via text messages to remind each other of the reading and to share with each other what they are learning.
Sister Mok says she saw evidence of remarkable change in this young woman’s life stemming from her scripture study. And as Sister Mok read the scriptures on her daily commute on the train, she too found blessings for herself. “I also felt the Spirit and received answers to my prayers as I continued to move forward in life,” she says.
“In my experience, some youth worry and feel unsure about whether they can receive a testimony and have spiritual experiences as others have,” she continues. “By working together, we assure them with our action that this works and that we’re there to support them every step of the way.”
One Sunday while she was teaching about eternal perspective, Sister Mok recognized a prompting to read the Book of Mormon with a particular young woman, who happened to be the only one at church that day.
“My counselor and I responded quickly by setting goals to complete the Book of Mormon as a team with the young woman,” Sister Mok says. “She accepted the challenge without hesitation since we would be completing the goal together.”
Since that time, Sister Mok, her counselor, and this young woman have set up a “buddy system” on Facebook and via text messages to remind each other of the reading and to share with each other what they are learning.
Sister Mok says she saw evidence of remarkable change in this young woman’s life stemming from her scripture study. And as Sister Mok read the scriptures on her daily commute on the train, she too found blessings for herself. “I also felt the Spirit and received answers to my prayers as I continued to move forward in life,” she says.
“In my experience, some youth worry and feel unsure about whether they can receive a testimony and have spiritual experiences as others have,” she continues. “By working together, we assure them with our action that this works and that we’re there to support them every step of the way.”
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👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Youth
Book of Mormon
Friendship
Holy Ghost
Ministering
Prayer
Revelation
Scriptures
Teaching the Gospel
Testimony
Young Women
FYI:For Your Info
Summary: Karate instructor Mark Tyson was surprised when a slender teenager, Joshua Bosse, began winning competitions. Joshua, an Australian junior middleweight full contact champion and seminary student, credits his discipline and fitness to following Church standards and the Word of Wisdom.
Karate instructor Mark Tyson couldn’t believe it when a “skinny little blond-headed kid” entered his gym and began winning competitions. But Joshua Bosse, Australian junior middleweight full contact champ, could. The 16-year-old priest attributes his discipline and fitness to following Church standards.
“Keeping the Word of Wisdom gives me an edge over my opponents who don’t,” says Joshua, who is an active seminary student in Tamworth, New South Wales. “The Church is great!”
“Keeping the Word of Wisdom gives me an edge over my opponents who don’t,” says Joshua, who is an active seminary student in Tamworth, New South Wales. “The Church is great!”
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👤 Youth
👤 Other
Commandments
Health
Obedience
Word of Wisdom
Young Men
Blind Sight
Summary: As a junior high student, the author and friends mocked a plain, shy chorus teacher. Asked to leave an anonymous unkind note, the author instead felt prompted to write a thank-you note. The teacher entered, read it, and wept with gratitude. In that moment, the author felt they truly saw her heart and goodness.
I used to be guilty of judging by appearance back in the days when I could see, before I lost my sight because of diabetes. I remember in particular my girls’ chorus teacher in junior high school. She was about as plain as a person could be, and she wore drab clothing. Even in conducting the choir she seemed to be a shy, backward person with about as much personality as a soda cracker. I am ashamed to admit that we girls made many rude remarks and cruel jokes about her behind her back.
One day at the end of the school year, some friends of mine thought it would be funny to leave an anonymous note on her desk telling her what we really thought of her. I was elected to do the dirty work. But as I went into the empty room to leave the note, I couldn’t do it. Instead, overcome by what I now suspect was the Spirit, I quickly wrote a note thanking her for her efforts in leading the chorus and telling her I had enjoyed singing.
As I was leaving the note on her desk, she entered the room. I was frozen to the spot as she walked to the desk, picked up the note, and read it. As I watched, I was astonished to see tears come to her eyes and flood down her cheeks. She clutched the note to her heart and in her mild way said, “Thank you.”
As I looked into her eyes at that moment, I believe I saw her clearly for the first time. I felt like I saw straight into her soul and sensed at once her loneliness, her pain, and her gentle goodness. At that moment, I loved her with a love that was far more powerful than anything I had ever felt for my favorite teachers. The Lord permitted me to see her heart as he sees it.
One day at the end of the school year, some friends of mine thought it would be funny to leave an anonymous note on her desk telling her what we really thought of her. I was elected to do the dirty work. But as I went into the empty room to leave the note, I couldn’t do it. Instead, overcome by what I now suspect was the Spirit, I quickly wrote a note thanking her for her efforts in leading the chorus and telling her I had enjoyed singing.
As I was leaving the note on her desk, she entered the room. I was frozen to the spot as she walked to the desk, picked up the note, and read it. As I watched, I was astonished to see tears come to her eyes and flood down her cheeks. She clutched the note to her heart and in her mild way said, “Thank you.”
As I looked into her eyes at that moment, I believe I saw her clearly for the first time. I felt like I saw straight into her soul and sensed at once her loneliness, her pain, and her gentle goodness. At that moment, I loved her with a love that was far more powerful than anything I had ever felt for my favorite teachers. The Lord permitted me to see her heart as he sees it.
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👤 Youth
👤 Friends
👤 Other
Adversity
Charity
Disabilities
Gratitude
Holy Ghost
Judging Others
Kindness
Love
Revelation
Making Choices
Summary: The speaker explains that although he had prepared from childhood to serve a mission, he felt the weight of the decision when it was time to meet with his bishop. He withdrew alone to ponder and pray, seeking to know whether this was truly the Lord's will. He received a clear spiritual confirmation that serving a mission was the most important thing he could be doing at that time.
Even if you are ready, it may not preclude you from feelings of anxiety, fear or inadequacy when the time arrives, however. I had prepared from a very young age to be a missionary. But on the day I was supposed to meet with my bishop to start the recommendation process, I started thinking about how significant the responsibility was. I had to make sure this was really what Heavenly Father wanted me to do and to receive His assurance that I could handle such a sacred calling. I found a secluded spot where I could be alone to ponder and pray and received a very clear message that serving a mission was the most important thing I could be doing with my life at that time.
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👤 Missionaries
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Other
Everything Safe, Mon
Summary: Introduced by Brother Cox, Jonel followed his mother’s counsel to listen before judging. His initial belief in Christ deepened into full conviction, leading to baptism in the ocean. He describes it as the happiest day of his life and testifies of the Church’s truth.
Jonel Foster, a tall, serious Aaronic Priesthood holder who is looking forward to serving a mission, was also introduced to the Church by Brother Cox. “I also thought Brother Cox was a little crazy, but my mother said you must listen before you pass judgment. I already believed in Christ. Now I believe fully. My belief is truly from my heart.”
Jonel was baptized in the ocean. “It was the happiest day of my life,” he said. “I felt pure. I felt it was right. The Church is a driving force in my life. If you write anything about what I say, I want you to write this. I know the Church is true.”
Jonel was baptized in the ocean. “It was the happiest day of my life,” he said. “I felt pure. I felt it was right. The Church is a driving force in my life. If you write anything about what I say, I want you to write this. I know the Church is true.”
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👤 Youth
👤 Parents
👤 Church Members (General)
Baptism
Conversion
Faith
Missionary Work
Priesthood
Testimony
Young Men
Rodrigo Quintanilla
Summary: Before Rodrigo’s accident, his family feared losing their home because relatives who owned it wanted to sell. After the accident, his grandmother, father, and other relatives ceded their shares and property rights so his family could stay. Rodrigo recognized this as a blessing from Heavenly Father.
Before my accident, we thought we were going to lose our home. Family members who own the house wanted to sell it, but we didn’t want to move. We love our ward.
After my accident, my grandmother said, “I’m going to give my share of the house to you.” My father did the same. One of my aunts and several of my brothers and sisters also ceded their property rights. They said, “You can stay here as long as you like.” This was a blessing from our Heavenly Father.
After my accident, my grandmother said, “I’m going to give my share of the house to you.” My father did the same. One of my aunts and several of my brothers and sisters also ceded their property rights. They said, “You can stay here as long as you like.” This was a blessing from our Heavenly Father.
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👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Parents
👤 Other
Adversity
Faith
Family
Kindness
Service
Stolen Words
Summary: New student Tanya recognizes that popular LDS classmate Josh has plagiarized short stories from the New Era for their creative writing class. After confirming in her mind, she confronts him, and he justifies his actions to protect his grades and the school's perception of LDS students. Tanya challenges his reasoning and decides to do what is best for everyone, implying she will not ignore the dishonesty.
Maybe this move won’t be so bad after all, Tanya thought as she watched Josh Tartello walk to the front of her fourth period creative writing class.
It was Tanya’s first day at Washington High, but she’d already met Josh in early-morning seminary. It was a small class—only seven kids strong, and they represented the entire LDS population at Washington. The interesting thing was that they all seemed to stand out in something. The Mormons were well known. Let’s see, there was the president of the jazz band, the captain of the swim team, the school newspaper editor—she couldn’t remember them all. But there was no way she could forget Josh, the junior class president with curly black hair and crystal blue eyes to die for.
What luck to come across him in creative writing—especially since it was a subject she felt confident in. She’d feel relaxed with the subject matter, and maybe be more relaxed about getting to know Josh. Was that a smile he flashed at her as he began to read his most recent fiction composition?
“Hey, Matt, where’d he come from?” Josh began, reading the first line from his story. Beginning with an interesting question—not a bad lead, Tanya thought, as she settled down to listen to the rest. The story was set around a basketball game and involved two guys—one with a bad mouth, and one with a bad attitude. They ended up resolving their problems. It was a good story, but it sounded vaguely familiar. Had she heard it before somewhere?
Just as the teacher congratulated Josh, Tanya’s stomach lurched. She realized where she’d seen the story. It was the fiction piece from the New Era a couple of months back. She was almost sure. Before she jumped to any conclusions though, she would go home and check it. After all, there was the remote possibility she was imagining things.
“Hey, Mom, do you know where the box with all the old Church magazines is?” Tanya called as she walked into the living room of their new apartment. There were boxes stacked everywhere, and her mom was kneeling over one of them, looking exasperated.
“I can’t even find my purse, and you want to know where the Church magazines are?” she asked incredulously. “Looks like you’re going to have to find them on your own, and if you come across my purse, let me know. Otherwise I don’t know what we’ll do for dinner tonight.”
Tanya realized that helping her mother unpack all those cartons was probably a little more important at the moment than checking to see if Josh had copied his paper. In a way, Tanya didn’t want to know. Mom had stayed home from work that day to try to get things organized, so Tanya decided to dig in and help.
With a new school, a new ward, and a new apartment to get used to, checking on Josh’s story soon dropped to the bottom of Tanya’s priority list. Besides, Josh was being friendly to her and had introduced her to all his friends. She almost forgot about the plagiarism issue entirely—until it was Josh’s turn to read another paper in front of the class.
“There they were again. Those ten white pins—staring straight at me,” he began.
This time there was no doubt in her mind. Tanya remembered well that story about bowling. She’d identified with it when she read it in the New Era, because she’d had a similar experience. Now she was positive Josh was lifting his stories from the New Era. What should she do?
She was too agitated to let it drop this time. She waited for him at the door of the classroom and walked into the hall with him. “Uh, Josh,” she began, not really knowing what direction she would take. “Your story—it was good, but it sounded kinda familiar.”
“I had a feeling you’d catch on to what I was doing,” Josh said, looking very apologetic. “There are only seven other people in this school who read the New Era, and it’s just my luck to have one of them in my class. I know it looks bad, but let me explain. Buy you lunch?” he asked.
How could Tanya resist? As they made their way to the cafeteria, Josh tried to explain.
“It’s not like I lifted it directly,” he said. “I took out all the parts that talked about the Church so it wouldn’t confuse Ms. Dougherty. She doesn’t know anything about the Church, and I didn’t want to have to explain.”
“She’d get a pretty bad impression of the Church if you had to explain that one of her star LDS students was plagiarizing.”
“Exactly!” Josh cried. “Well, not exactly. I don’t really feel like I stole it, since I did change it a little bit. Besides, you know the LDS kids are pretty well respected at this school. How would we look if one of us was caught cheating? You know the story would be all over the campus in five minutes.”
By that time they’d made their way to the cafeteria line and students were crowding everywhere. By mutual understanding, they dropped the conversation for a while as they chose their lunches. Tanya really wasn’t hungry, so all she took was yogurt and corn chips. She felt strange about letting Josh pay.
As Josh carried their tray to a table in the corner by a window, Tanya said, “You know, in the time it took you to copy those stories, you probably could have come up with something pretty good of your own.”
“You might be right,” Josh agreed. “But I just didn’t have the mental energy. Look, with all the things I have to do for church, for seminary, for student council, for the soccer team, for my family—I’ve got to coast somewhere. I need a good grade in this class. For my sake, and for the sake of the LDS reputation at this school, couldn’t you please just let it drop for now?” Josh was almost pleading.
And Tanya was almost taking it in—almost. What bothered her was the fact that Josh had worked long and hard to come up with every reason imaginable to justify what he was doing and to keep the truth from getting out. At this point, he seemed more worried about getting caught than about being honest.
“What’s the worst that could happen to you if you tell Ms. Dougherty you copied those stories?” Tanya asked. “Maybe she’d be so happy with your honesty that she’d let you do those assignments over again.”
“You’re dreaming,” Josh replied. “I’d probably get an F in the class, which would blow my whole GPA, I’d get suspended for a couple of days, and I’d get kicked off student council and the soccer team. That would look great on my record. I’d probably never get into college.”
“You feel good about cheating to get into college?”
“C’mon, everyone cheats once they get there. You can hire people to write your papers for you. Fraternities have files of tests and papers you can use any time. Borrowing ideas from the New Era is small-time stuff compared to that.”
“I guess everyone starts somewhere,” Tanya said quietly, more to herself than to Josh. She’d finished her yogurt but hadn’t touched her chips. She stood up.
“So what are you going to do?” Josh asked, looking up at her with those crystal blue eyes to die for.
“I’m going to start doing what’s best for everyone,” she replied, as she slowly walked away.
It was Tanya’s first day at Washington High, but she’d already met Josh in early-morning seminary. It was a small class—only seven kids strong, and they represented the entire LDS population at Washington. The interesting thing was that they all seemed to stand out in something. The Mormons were well known. Let’s see, there was the president of the jazz band, the captain of the swim team, the school newspaper editor—she couldn’t remember them all. But there was no way she could forget Josh, the junior class president with curly black hair and crystal blue eyes to die for.
What luck to come across him in creative writing—especially since it was a subject she felt confident in. She’d feel relaxed with the subject matter, and maybe be more relaxed about getting to know Josh. Was that a smile he flashed at her as he began to read his most recent fiction composition?
“Hey, Matt, where’d he come from?” Josh began, reading the first line from his story. Beginning with an interesting question—not a bad lead, Tanya thought, as she settled down to listen to the rest. The story was set around a basketball game and involved two guys—one with a bad mouth, and one with a bad attitude. They ended up resolving their problems. It was a good story, but it sounded vaguely familiar. Had she heard it before somewhere?
Just as the teacher congratulated Josh, Tanya’s stomach lurched. She realized where she’d seen the story. It was the fiction piece from the New Era a couple of months back. She was almost sure. Before she jumped to any conclusions though, she would go home and check it. After all, there was the remote possibility she was imagining things.
“Hey, Mom, do you know where the box with all the old Church magazines is?” Tanya called as she walked into the living room of their new apartment. There were boxes stacked everywhere, and her mom was kneeling over one of them, looking exasperated.
“I can’t even find my purse, and you want to know where the Church magazines are?” she asked incredulously. “Looks like you’re going to have to find them on your own, and if you come across my purse, let me know. Otherwise I don’t know what we’ll do for dinner tonight.”
Tanya realized that helping her mother unpack all those cartons was probably a little more important at the moment than checking to see if Josh had copied his paper. In a way, Tanya didn’t want to know. Mom had stayed home from work that day to try to get things organized, so Tanya decided to dig in and help.
With a new school, a new ward, and a new apartment to get used to, checking on Josh’s story soon dropped to the bottom of Tanya’s priority list. Besides, Josh was being friendly to her and had introduced her to all his friends. She almost forgot about the plagiarism issue entirely—until it was Josh’s turn to read another paper in front of the class.
“There they were again. Those ten white pins—staring straight at me,” he began.
This time there was no doubt in her mind. Tanya remembered well that story about bowling. She’d identified with it when she read it in the New Era, because she’d had a similar experience. Now she was positive Josh was lifting his stories from the New Era. What should she do?
She was too agitated to let it drop this time. She waited for him at the door of the classroom and walked into the hall with him. “Uh, Josh,” she began, not really knowing what direction she would take. “Your story—it was good, but it sounded kinda familiar.”
“I had a feeling you’d catch on to what I was doing,” Josh said, looking very apologetic. “There are only seven other people in this school who read the New Era, and it’s just my luck to have one of them in my class. I know it looks bad, but let me explain. Buy you lunch?” he asked.
How could Tanya resist? As they made their way to the cafeteria, Josh tried to explain.
“It’s not like I lifted it directly,” he said. “I took out all the parts that talked about the Church so it wouldn’t confuse Ms. Dougherty. She doesn’t know anything about the Church, and I didn’t want to have to explain.”
“She’d get a pretty bad impression of the Church if you had to explain that one of her star LDS students was plagiarizing.”
“Exactly!” Josh cried. “Well, not exactly. I don’t really feel like I stole it, since I did change it a little bit. Besides, you know the LDS kids are pretty well respected at this school. How would we look if one of us was caught cheating? You know the story would be all over the campus in five minutes.”
By that time they’d made their way to the cafeteria line and students were crowding everywhere. By mutual understanding, they dropped the conversation for a while as they chose their lunches. Tanya really wasn’t hungry, so all she took was yogurt and corn chips. She felt strange about letting Josh pay.
As Josh carried their tray to a table in the corner by a window, Tanya said, “You know, in the time it took you to copy those stories, you probably could have come up with something pretty good of your own.”
“You might be right,” Josh agreed. “But I just didn’t have the mental energy. Look, with all the things I have to do for church, for seminary, for student council, for the soccer team, for my family—I’ve got to coast somewhere. I need a good grade in this class. For my sake, and for the sake of the LDS reputation at this school, couldn’t you please just let it drop for now?” Josh was almost pleading.
And Tanya was almost taking it in—almost. What bothered her was the fact that Josh had worked long and hard to come up with every reason imaginable to justify what he was doing and to keep the truth from getting out. At this point, he seemed more worried about getting caught than about being honest.
“What’s the worst that could happen to you if you tell Ms. Dougherty you copied those stories?” Tanya asked. “Maybe she’d be so happy with your honesty that she’d let you do those assignments over again.”
“You’re dreaming,” Josh replied. “I’d probably get an F in the class, which would blow my whole GPA, I’d get suspended for a couple of days, and I’d get kicked off student council and the soccer team. That would look great on my record. I’d probably never get into college.”
“You feel good about cheating to get into college?”
“C’mon, everyone cheats once they get there. You can hire people to write your papers for you. Fraternities have files of tests and papers you can use any time. Borrowing ideas from the New Era is small-time stuff compared to that.”
“I guess everyone starts somewhere,” Tanya said quietly, more to herself than to Josh. She’d finished her yogurt but hadn’t touched her chips. She stood up.
“So what are you going to do?” Josh asked, looking up at her with those crystal blue eyes to die for.
“I’m going to start doing what’s best for everyone,” she replied, as she slowly walked away.
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👤 Youth
👤 Parents
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
Agency and Accountability
Courage
Education
Honesty
Young Women
Family History Party
Summary: Bored children decide to have a party focused on family history. They look at family photos, play family tree trivia, race to index names, and share family stories. By the end of the night, they had so much fun that they want to do it again.
I’m bored! Let’s do something!
I’m already doing something. I’m looking at family photos.
But I want to have a party!
How about doing both? We could have a family history party!
It sounds boring.
Let’s go! It’ll be fun.
Should we make some popcorn?
Welcome to the family history party! Our first game is family tree trivia.
Where was Grandma Jensen born?
Now it’s time for the great index race! The team that indexes the most names wins.
Look! That person has the same name as me.
Now we’ve saved the best for last. Family history story time!
When my dad was little, his family lived on a ranch …
Later that night …
That was the best party ever. Let’s do it again tomorrow!
I’m already doing something. I’m looking at family photos.
But I want to have a party!
How about doing both? We could have a family history party!
It sounds boring.
Let’s go! It’ll be fun.
Should we make some popcorn?
Welcome to the family history party! Our first game is family tree trivia.
Where was Grandma Jensen born?
Now it’s time for the great index race! The team that indexes the most names wins.
Look! That person has the same name as me.
Now we’ve saved the best for last. Family history story time!
When my dad was little, his family lived on a ranch …
Later that night …
That was the best party ever. Let’s do it again tomorrow!
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👤 Children
Children
Family
Family History
Family Home Evening
My Family:A Special Dad
Summary: Tamara's family adopted eight younger children. Each time a child was adopted, their father sent them to the bishop for temple recommends, and recently the last child was sealed to the family, prompting reflection on their journey toward the celestial kingdom.
The eight children younger than I were adopted. My older sister and I are the only natural children of our parents. Each time we adopted another one, dad would send us to the bishop to get temple recommends. Just recently, the last child was sealed to our family. Now, after my dad says family prayer or holds family counsel, I think of how long it has taken us to progress this far and how much more we must do to gain the celestial kingdom.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
Adoption
Bishop
Family
Ordinances
Plan of Salvation
Prayer
Sealing
Temples
Conversion to the Gospel
Summary: As a young man, John Taylor earnestly sought religious truth and, with his wife Leonora, prayed that God would send a servant with it. Heber C. Kimball called Parley P. Pratt to Toronto with a promise that prepared people would receive him. John studied and prayed about Elder Pratt’s teachings for three weeks, then he and Leonora were baptized; John was later ordained, and he and Elder Pratt baptized John’s parents.
In England, when John Taylor was seventeen, he was appointed to be a preacher in his church. He was given assignments to preach in areas outside the city.
John: The Lord has commanded us to pray always in His name.
After John arrived in Canada, he continued to go to church and study the Bible. He and his wife, Leonora, joined with some of their friends to study the Bible.
John: We need to pray that God will send His servant to give us the truth!
Leonora: Yes, and to pray that we will know it when we hear it!
In Kirtland, Ohio, Elder Heber C. Kimball called Elder Parley P. Pratt to serve a mission to Toronto, Canada.
Elder Kimball: Elder Pratt, you will find a people prepared for the gospel, and they shall receive thee.
Elder Pratt: If a servant of the Lord extends such a promise, I will go to Canada.
When Elder Pratt first visited with the Taylor family, John Taylor began to study what Elder Pratt preached.
John: If I find your religion true, I shall accept it, no matter what the consequences may be; and if false, then I shall expose it.
For three weeks, John Taylor followed Elder Pratt wherever he preached. He studied and prayed about what Elder Pratt taught.
Elder Pratt: Joseph Smith translated this book, the Book of Mormon.
On May 9, 1836, John and Leonora Taylor were baptized.
Elder Pratt ordained John Taylor as an elder, and they worked together to spread the gospel. Their first baptisms were President Taylor’s parents, Agnes and James Taylor.
John Taylor remained loyal to the truth of the gospel.
John: The Lord has commanded us to pray always in His name.
After John arrived in Canada, he continued to go to church and study the Bible. He and his wife, Leonora, joined with some of their friends to study the Bible.
John: We need to pray that God will send His servant to give us the truth!
Leonora: Yes, and to pray that we will know it when we hear it!
In Kirtland, Ohio, Elder Heber C. Kimball called Elder Parley P. Pratt to serve a mission to Toronto, Canada.
Elder Kimball: Elder Pratt, you will find a people prepared for the gospel, and they shall receive thee.
Elder Pratt: If a servant of the Lord extends such a promise, I will go to Canada.
When Elder Pratt first visited with the Taylor family, John Taylor began to study what Elder Pratt preached.
John: If I find your religion true, I shall accept it, no matter what the consequences may be; and if false, then I shall expose it.
For three weeks, John Taylor followed Elder Pratt wherever he preached. He studied and prayed about what Elder Pratt taught.
Elder Pratt: Joseph Smith translated this book, the Book of Mormon.
On May 9, 1836, John and Leonora Taylor were baptized.
Elder Pratt ordained John Taylor as an elder, and they worked together to spread the gospel. Their first baptisms were President Taylor’s parents, Agnes and James Taylor.
John Taylor remained loyal to the truth of the gospel.
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👤 Early Saints
👤 Missionaries
👤 Parents
Apostle
Baptism
Bible
Book of Mormon
Conversion
Faith
Joseph Smith
Missionary Work
Prayer
Priesthood
Scriptures
Testimony
The Restoration
FYI:For Your Information
Summary: Inspired by a New Era story, youth in the Richmond Branch built a garage as a service and fundraising project. Despite difficult conditions, they completed the shell, earned funds, and received media coverage. Most importantly, the project united the youth, including less active and new members.
Inspired by a story in the June 1987 issue of the New Era, the youth of the Richmond Branch, Lexington Kentucky Stake, decided to build a garage as a service project and fund raiser.
In spite of sunburns, splinters, and smashed thumbs, over 20 teenagers spent two days in hot July weather framing and sheathing walls, raising trusses, and subroofing the structure. They not only raised the shell of the garage, but they earned a substantial amount of money for future activities. Because of their hard work the youth received a lot of coverage from the local newspaper and were featured on a Lexington television station.
The best reward from the project, however, was the sense of unity it gave the youth in this branch. Several less active youth and teenagers who had just moved into the area were involved, and one participant said the best thing about the project was that “it brought us closer together.”
In spite of sunburns, splinters, and smashed thumbs, over 20 teenagers spent two days in hot July weather framing and sheathing walls, raising trusses, and subroofing the structure. They not only raised the shell of the garage, but they earned a substantial amount of money for future activities. Because of their hard work the youth received a lot of coverage from the local newspaper and were featured on a Lexington television station.
The best reward from the project, however, was the sense of unity it gave the youth in this branch. Several less active youth and teenagers who had just moved into the area were involved, and one participant said the best thing about the project was that “it brought us closer together.”
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👤 Youth
👤 Church Members (General)
Friendship
Self-Reliance
Service
Unity
A Flood of Happy Memories
Summary: The author grew up in a Virginia home that flooded during storms, prompting late-night family efforts to keep water at bay. The father and brother bailed water while the mother, sister, and author sopped up the flooding with towels, then celebrated with hot cocoa and cookies. Though stressful for the parents, these became joyful memories that taught the value of facing challenges together. As an adult, the author hopes to create similar unity in their own family when adversity comes.
Illustration by Bradley Clark
Because of old plumbing and an unsound foundation, my childhood home flooded whenever a storm produced enough rain. Because storms in Virginia, USA, can last for hours, water invaded frequently.
We lived in that home during most of my growing-up years, so I thought flooding was normal.
After several storms, we improved our flood-fighting tactics and learned to work together. Storms often hit in the middle of the night, and my parents would wake us all up to work at our posts as the water encroached through the basement like slow-moving lava. My brother and father would bucket out the stairwell while my sister and I quickly sopped up water with towels to save the carpet.
We giggled as we jumped and danced on those towels, feeling the squishy wetness between our toes and through our pajama legs. Mom hurriedly wrung out the drenched towels, hurled them into the dryer, and brought new ones fresh for stomping. When we were satisfied the house was safe, we went to the kitchen to dry off and enjoy hot cocoa and cookies for our labors. Then, if it wasn’t yet time for school, we would try to go back to sleep.
Whenever my childhood home would flood, my brother and father would bucket out the stairwell while my sister and I quickly sopped up water with towels.
These floods must have given my parents great anxiety, but I remember them as some of the happiest moments of my childhood, even with the booming thunder and the flashing lightning. In fact, the smell of wet carpet still makes me nostalgic for family time.
My parents could have fought the flooding alone, but I’m so glad they employed all of us in defense of our home. Fighting the water was a joyous event because we were together and we each played a part.
Now that I am grown, I think about those days and wonder how I can create the same joy of working together in my own children. Though grateful that my home does not flood, I know that something unwanted will inevitably encroach upon our family.
No matter what trouble my family may deal with in the future, I hope we stay together and work together in defending our values, our faith, and each other. Then perhaps, even in adversity, we can laugh, smile, and feel happy as we labor side by side.
Because of old plumbing and an unsound foundation, my childhood home flooded whenever a storm produced enough rain. Because storms in Virginia, USA, can last for hours, water invaded frequently.
We lived in that home during most of my growing-up years, so I thought flooding was normal.
After several storms, we improved our flood-fighting tactics and learned to work together. Storms often hit in the middle of the night, and my parents would wake us all up to work at our posts as the water encroached through the basement like slow-moving lava. My brother and father would bucket out the stairwell while my sister and I quickly sopped up water with towels to save the carpet.
We giggled as we jumped and danced on those towels, feeling the squishy wetness between our toes and through our pajama legs. Mom hurriedly wrung out the drenched towels, hurled them into the dryer, and brought new ones fresh for stomping. When we were satisfied the house was safe, we went to the kitchen to dry off and enjoy hot cocoa and cookies for our labors. Then, if it wasn’t yet time for school, we would try to go back to sleep.
Whenever my childhood home would flood, my brother and father would bucket out the stairwell while my sister and I quickly sopped up water with towels.
These floods must have given my parents great anxiety, but I remember them as some of the happiest moments of my childhood, even with the booming thunder and the flashing lightning. In fact, the smell of wet carpet still makes me nostalgic for family time.
My parents could have fought the flooding alone, but I’m so glad they employed all of us in defense of our home. Fighting the water was a joyous event because we were together and we each played a part.
Now that I am grown, I think about those days and wonder how I can create the same joy of working together in my own children. Though grateful that my home does not flood, I know that something unwanted will inevitably encroach upon our family.
No matter what trouble my family may deal with in the future, I hope we stay together and work together in defending our values, our faith, and each other. Then perhaps, even in adversity, we can laugh, smile, and feel happy as we labor side by side.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
Adversity
Faith
Family
Happiness
Parenting
Unity
A Hero to Follow:A Family Time
Summary: Joseph, exhausted from work, tells his father about Moroni’s visit and is instructed to go to the hill of Cumorah. There he sees the gold plates and related artifacts, receives further instruction, and is shown a vision contrasting God’s power with Satan’s. Later, Joseph shares the experience with his family, who listen in awe and rejoice at what God has revealed through him.
Joseph’s arms felt as heavy as the scythe he swung through the ripened grain. But within, the awful weight of waiting and wondering if the Lord were displeased with him had lifted. Joseph’s prayers had been answered! At the memory of the angel Moroni’s visit the night before, Joseph’s whole being was filled with joy. The dazzling splendor surrounding Moroni had been brighter than the first blinding rays of the sun gilding Joseph’s father and brothers mowing alongside him in the fields.
As they reached the end of a clean-cut fencerow, Joseph lagged behind. Light-headed from a night without sleep, he struggled against an overwhelming weariness. But nothing, he realized, can dim the glory of the message Moroni brought me. Only—and the thick fan of his eyelashes swept his cheeks—only I am so … tired. For just a moment he rested against his scythe.
Always the watchful big brother, Alvin was quick to observe Joseph’s unusual behavior. He glanced at him anxiously, but without interrupting his own measured stroke. Then his words spurred Joseph on. “If we slacken our hands, Joseph, we won’t finish our work.”
Determined as always to carry his load, Joseph pushed forward through his exhaustion. He cut a few more swaths of grain. Then an overpowering dizziness brought him to a swaying halt.
Father Smith stopped abruptly, letting the sheaf he was binding fall in disarray to the ground. His tone was concerned as he said, “Son, you’d best go back to the house and let your mother doctor you.”
The father watched Joseph make his way slowly toward the wormwood fence and patch of green surrounding their log home. Then he returned to the deft twist and tuck of the binder’s knot.
The sky reflected the sun’s high glare before Joseph retraced his steps and sought out his father. Father Smith finished up the sheaf he was binding, straightened out his lean, long frame, and wiped the sweat from his brow with a homespun sleeve. “Feeling better, Joseph?”
Joseph looked squarely at his father, and when he spoke there was a compelling urgency in his voice. “I have something to tell you, Father. I haven’t been home. I tried to climb over the fence by the apple tree, but I was so weak I fell helpless to the ground. I don’t know how long I lay there, but after a time I heard a voice that pierced my very center, calling, ‘Joseph, Joseph.’” For a moment Joseph seemed unable to continue. Then his voice deepened. “It was an angel surrounded by heavenly light—the same angel Moroni who appeared to me three times last night in my room.” Joseph’s face was luminous, but it was his eyes, blazing blue as the noonday sky, that most reflected the astonishing events he was about to share.
So there in the fields of waving grain, Joseph the son lifted his face to Joseph the father and unfolded all that had happened. The radiant light. The awe-inspiring message. Prophecy fulfilled and yet to come. Gold plates couched in a stone box buried in a nearby hill. Instructions. Warnings. All this thrice impressed and forever emblazoned on his mind and heart. Given yet once more and once more imprinted.
Father Smith listened intently, scarcely breathing. Every word Joseph spoke was carved almost as deeply on the father’s soul as on the son’s. He studied the earnest face of the lad who had once walked bravely on crutches.
Joseph’s gaze swept beyond their log home to the autumn hillside, the newly significant hill of Cumorah. “The angel said to meet him there,” he explained, pointing. “But first I was to come and tell you.”
Joseph had told it all. Now he waited, obedient, on his father, the tall, granite-firm yet gentle man he so loved and respected.
His father’s voice broke a little as he began to speak, but the words were sure and strong. “This is of God, Joseph. You must go and do as the angel commanded.” Father Smith’s fingers tightened on Joseph’s shoulders and a look of love and trust passed between them.
Without a backward glance, Joseph strode southeast toward the hill of Cumorah. He climbed the thickly wooded hill flaunting its autumn finery of scarlet and orange. Near the top he sped like a homing pigeon to the exact place Moroni had shown him in his vision. It seemed as familiar to him as his own dooryard.
With pounding heart, Joseph knelt among the tufted grass, for there lay the large rounded stone. It’s exactly like the one the angel Moroni showed me, he exulted, while his hands pushed the black dirt away from the stone. His eyes searched for a lever. Then he spied a hefty stick with a somewhat flattened end that he inserted under the stone’s edge. Exerting his strength he pried it up, revealing a box made of stones cemented together.
Joseph caught his breath as he saw the glitter of gold plates inside and a strange instrument called the Urim and Thummim and the breastplate. It was just as the angel had said! He was filled with a burning wonder as he looked at the curious markings on the ancient records. He had known they would be there because the angel had told him, but to actually witness them with his own eyes was a stunning and miraculous experience!
As Joseph reached in to lift out the plates, the angel Moroni appeared and reminded him that it was not yet time, nor would it be for four more years. However, he went on to reassure Joseph that in exactly one year he was to meet him here and receive further instructions, and that Joseph was to return each year until the time came to translate the record.
That was not all. As they talked there on the hillside, the heavens were opened to Joseph, and the glory of the Lord shone round about him and rested on him. While he stood gazing, enthralled, the angel said, “Look!” and Joseph beheld a vision of Satan and his followers. He was permitted to see the great contrast between the power of God and the power of Satan, the consequences of both obedience and disobedience to the commandments of God. This was shown him with such clarity and in such a striking manner that it would remain vivid in his memory until the end of his days. Forever after he would be anxious to keep the commandments of God.
Joseph walked away from the hill with a flaming determination to carry out the Lord’s great purposes, to obey implicitly every instruction given by the angel Moroni. And as he looked at the slowly darkening sky he thought, It’s not going to be easy.
After supper that evening Father Smith leaned toward Joseph and speaking gently said, “Can you tell all the family about it, son?”
Joseph looked into the eager, upturned faces and his heart swelled with gratitude. These were his dearest and best friends. They would stand by him with love and loyalty. For them Joseph once more rehearsed all he had told his father in the field that morning, of his finding the golden plates on the Hill Cumorah and of his visit with the angel Moroni.
The deep exultation that moved Joseph called forth an answering joy in each of his loved ones. Tears burned along the edge of Sam’s eyelids and Sophronia saw that many cheeks were wet as she wiped her own. They knew Joseph had spoken the truth without doubt or hesitation or holding back.
Like the rest, Alvin had sat spellbound at the sound of every word from his younger brother’s lips. But sensing that by now Joseph must be totally exhausted, Alvin laid his hand on Joseph’s arm. “Now, brother,” he suggested, “let’s go to bed so we can rise early in the morning and finish our work before sunset.” Alvin nodded in Lucy’s direction. “And if Mother will get our supper early tomorrow, we’ll have a fine long evening while you tell us more of the great things God has revealed to you.”
On the following evening the slanted rays of the setting sun pushed the boys to finish their nightly tasks; while inside Lucy and Sophronia moved skillfully about the big room, setting it to rights after supper.
It was just twilight when the cheery bustle ceased and the entire family—father, mother, and all the children from Alvin down to Baby Lucy—formed a circle around Joseph. It was to be the first of many such evenings.
All were hushed as Joseph began to speak. First he admonished them to keep his experiences within the family circle for the time being. As he went on to recall the astonishing events of the past two days, his eyes glowed with an intense light and his voice rang with sincerity. Even baby Lucy, cuddled on Hyrum’s lap, stared up at her brother Joseph in wide-eyed awe.
So clearly had Moroni shown Joseph what the golden records contained that he was able to describe many exciting and amusing details about the ancient people who had lived in America. The family listened, fascinated, as Joseph told about the strange clothes they wore, how they traveled from place to place, and the animals upon which they rode.
“Did they have horses then?” piped up Catherine. Joseph assured her that they did, and Catherine’s eyes sparkled as Joseph added that these long-ago people owned cows and sheep and even elephants. Joseph then pictured their great cities and the design of their buildings. He knew about their religion and how they worshipped, their forms of government, and how the Nephites and Lamanites fought in fierce battles.
Outside the moon hung high and inside the fire was only a flicker, yet no one wanted to leave the circle. They were all savoring the sweet happiness that warmed them through and through and spilled over to fill every corner of their little home.
Lucy surveyed her brood, gathering them in with one glance. These are my treasures, she mused tenderly, cherishing each one. Then her heart swelled with the thought, God is about to bring to light something to give us a more perfect knowledge of the plan of salvation and redemption of the human family.
And Joseph, her son, had been chosen by the Lord to bring it to pass! (To be continued.)
As they reached the end of a clean-cut fencerow, Joseph lagged behind. Light-headed from a night without sleep, he struggled against an overwhelming weariness. But nothing, he realized, can dim the glory of the message Moroni brought me. Only—and the thick fan of his eyelashes swept his cheeks—only I am so … tired. For just a moment he rested against his scythe.
Always the watchful big brother, Alvin was quick to observe Joseph’s unusual behavior. He glanced at him anxiously, but without interrupting his own measured stroke. Then his words spurred Joseph on. “If we slacken our hands, Joseph, we won’t finish our work.”
Determined as always to carry his load, Joseph pushed forward through his exhaustion. He cut a few more swaths of grain. Then an overpowering dizziness brought him to a swaying halt.
Father Smith stopped abruptly, letting the sheaf he was binding fall in disarray to the ground. His tone was concerned as he said, “Son, you’d best go back to the house and let your mother doctor you.”
The father watched Joseph make his way slowly toward the wormwood fence and patch of green surrounding their log home. Then he returned to the deft twist and tuck of the binder’s knot.
The sky reflected the sun’s high glare before Joseph retraced his steps and sought out his father. Father Smith finished up the sheaf he was binding, straightened out his lean, long frame, and wiped the sweat from his brow with a homespun sleeve. “Feeling better, Joseph?”
Joseph looked squarely at his father, and when he spoke there was a compelling urgency in his voice. “I have something to tell you, Father. I haven’t been home. I tried to climb over the fence by the apple tree, but I was so weak I fell helpless to the ground. I don’t know how long I lay there, but after a time I heard a voice that pierced my very center, calling, ‘Joseph, Joseph.’” For a moment Joseph seemed unable to continue. Then his voice deepened. “It was an angel surrounded by heavenly light—the same angel Moroni who appeared to me three times last night in my room.” Joseph’s face was luminous, but it was his eyes, blazing blue as the noonday sky, that most reflected the astonishing events he was about to share.
So there in the fields of waving grain, Joseph the son lifted his face to Joseph the father and unfolded all that had happened. The radiant light. The awe-inspiring message. Prophecy fulfilled and yet to come. Gold plates couched in a stone box buried in a nearby hill. Instructions. Warnings. All this thrice impressed and forever emblazoned on his mind and heart. Given yet once more and once more imprinted.
Father Smith listened intently, scarcely breathing. Every word Joseph spoke was carved almost as deeply on the father’s soul as on the son’s. He studied the earnest face of the lad who had once walked bravely on crutches.
Joseph’s gaze swept beyond their log home to the autumn hillside, the newly significant hill of Cumorah. “The angel said to meet him there,” he explained, pointing. “But first I was to come and tell you.”
Joseph had told it all. Now he waited, obedient, on his father, the tall, granite-firm yet gentle man he so loved and respected.
His father’s voice broke a little as he began to speak, but the words were sure and strong. “This is of God, Joseph. You must go and do as the angel commanded.” Father Smith’s fingers tightened on Joseph’s shoulders and a look of love and trust passed between them.
Without a backward glance, Joseph strode southeast toward the hill of Cumorah. He climbed the thickly wooded hill flaunting its autumn finery of scarlet and orange. Near the top he sped like a homing pigeon to the exact place Moroni had shown him in his vision. It seemed as familiar to him as his own dooryard.
With pounding heart, Joseph knelt among the tufted grass, for there lay the large rounded stone. It’s exactly like the one the angel Moroni showed me, he exulted, while his hands pushed the black dirt away from the stone. His eyes searched for a lever. Then he spied a hefty stick with a somewhat flattened end that he inserted under the stone’s edge. Exerting his strength he pried it up, revealing a box made of stones cemented together.
Joseph caught his breath as he saw the glitter of gold plates inside and a strange instrument called the Urim and Thummim and the breastplate. It was just as the angel had said! He was filled with a burning wonder as he looked at the curious markings on the ancient records. He had known they would be there because the angel had told him, but to actually witness them with his own eyes was a stunning and miraculous experience!
As Joseph reached in to lift out the plates, the angel Moroni appeared and reminded him that it was not yet time, nor would it be for four more years. However, he went on to reassure Joseph that in exactly one year he was to meet him here and receive further instructions, and that Joseph was to return each year until the time came to translate the record.
That was not all. As they talked there on the hillside, the heavens were opened to Joseph, and the glory of the Lord shone round about him and rested on him. While he stood gazing, enthralled, the angel said, “Look!” and Joseph beheld a vision of Satan and his followers. He was permitted to see the great contrast between the power of God and the power of Satan, the consequences of both obedience and disobedience to the commandments of God. This was shown him with such clarity and in such a striking manner that it would remain vivid in his memory until the end of his days. Forever after he would be anxious to keep the commandments of God.
Joseph walked away from the hill with a flaming determination to carry out the Lord’s great purposes, to obey implicitly every instruction given by the angel Moroni. And as he looked at the slowly darkening sky he thought, It’s not going to be easy.
After supper that evening Father Smith leaned toward Joseph and speaking gently said, “Can you tell all the family about it, son?”
Joseph looked into the eager, upturned faces and his heart swelled with gratitude. These were his dearest and best friends. They would stand by him with love and loyalty. For them Joseph once more rehearsed all he had told his father in the field that morning, of his finding the golden plates on the Hill Cumorah and of his visit with the angel Moroni.
The deep exultation that moved Joseph called forth an answering joy in each of his loved ones. Tears burned along the edge of Sam’s eyelids and Sophronia saw that many cheeks were wet as she wiped her own. They knew Joseph had spoken the truth without doubt or hesitation or holding back.
Like the rest, Alvin had sat spellbound at the sound of every word from his younger brother’s lips. But sensing that by now Joseph must be totally exhausted, Alvin laid his hand on Joseph’s arm. “Now, brother,” he suggested, “let’s go to bed so we can rise early in the morning and finish our work before sunset.” Alvin nodded in Lucy’s direction. “And if Mother will get our supper early tomorrow, we’ll have a fine long evening while you tell us more of the great things God has revealed to you.”
On the following evening the slanted rays of the setting sun pushed the boys to finish their nightly tasks; while inside Lucy and Sophronia moved skillfully about the big room, setting it to rights after supper.
It was just twilight when the cheery bustle ceased and the entire family—father, mother, and all the children from Alvin down to Baby Lucy—formed a circle around Joseph. It was to be the first of many such evenings.
All were hushed as Joseph began to speak. First he admonished them to keep his experiences within the family circle for the time being. As he went on to recall the astonishing events of the past two days, his eyes glowed with an intense light and his voice rang with sincerity. Even baby Lucy, cuddled on Hyrum’s lap, stared up at her brother Joseph in wide-eyed awe.
So clearly had Moroni shown Joseph what the golden records contained that he was able to describe many exciting and amusing details about the ancient people who had lived in America. The family listened, fascinated, as Joseph told about the strange clothes they wore, how they traveled from place to place, and the animals upon which they rode.
“Did they have horses then?” piped up Catherine. Joseph assured her that they did, and Catherine’s eyes sparkled as Joseph added that these long-ago people owned cows and sheep and even elephants. Joseph then pictured their great cities and the design of their buildings. He knew about their religion and how they worshipped, their forms of government, and how the Nephites and Lamanites fought in fierce battles.
Outside the moon hung high and inside the fire was only a flicker, yet no one wanted to leave the circle. They were all savoring the sweet happiness that warmed them through and through and spilled over to fill every corner of their little home.
Lucy surveyed her brood, gathering them in with one glance. These are my treasures, she mused tenderly, cherishing each one. Then her heart swelled with the thought, God is about to bring to light something to give us a more perfect knowledge of the plan of salvation and redemption of the human family.
And Joseph, her son, had been chosen by the Lord to bring it to pass! (To be continued.)
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👤 Joseph Smith
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Church Aids Mexican Program
Summary: Seeing the needs of abused and abandoned children in Nuevo León, area welfare manager Luis Camarillo contacted DIF’s child and family protection director to partner on a foster-care program. With Church support, service missionaries trained about 50 potential trainers, and key participants traveled to Utah for intensive foster-care training and field experience. DIF then improved its recruiting and selection of foster families, with expectations for better outcomes for children, and the partnership expanded to humanitarian donations.
Since 1929 the government in Mexico has been trying to improve the lives of children through what is currently known as the National System for the Integral Development of the Family (DIF). Operated on federal, state, and city levels, DIF has been instrumental in strengthening families and helping low-income individuals. Now the Church has teamed up with DIF to continue improving the lives of children.
Luis Camarillo, area welfare manager for the Mexico North Area, has seen the problems children in his area face and wanted to help those children. He and others started to look at problems children faced in the area and found that many suffered from two things.
“Nuevo Leon State has no street children; however, it has children suffering from abuse or who are abandoned,” Brother Camarillo said.
Brother Camarillo and other members found out about DIF’s efforts to help the children through a local foster-care program and decided that they would like to assist DIF. He contacted Dr. Alejandro Alberto Morton Martínez, the child and family protection director at DIF, and offered to partner with the group to help the program. Since then, members have been working with Dr. Morton on the foster-care program.
Thanks to offers from the Church and the State of Utah’s foster-care system, the DIF and others involved have been able to receive valuable training on the topic of foster-care.
“A couple of service missionaries came down here to Monterrey from Utah and provided basic training to about 50 potential trainers,” Brother Camarillo said.
Through Humanitarian Services, Brother Camarillo, Dr. Morton, and several others have been able to travel to Utah to receive intensive training from the Utah Department of Children and Family Services. The training covered the basics of how to set up and keep a foster-care system functioning and also offered participants field experience. While in Utah, the participants visited with the Church Welfare Department and LDS Family Services.
Although the foster-care program in Nuevo Leon is still progressing, the training Brother Camarillo and others have received thus far has already started to pay off.
“Because of the training, DIF has improved the recruiting and selection process of potential foster families,” Brother Camarillo said. “The children are expected to have better experiences … than others placed in families who were not recruited applying the new process learned through the Church.”
Thus far the experience of working with DIF has been a good one for everyone involved, including Brother Camarillo. “It is hard to find an organization whose members are as committed to doing good as are those working for DIF,” Brother Camarillo said. “It has been a wonderful experience working with such an organization.”
In addition to helping start the foster-care program, Brother Camarillo has helped orchestrate several humanitarian and service projects with DIF, in which wheelchairs, medical equipment, and furniture were donated.
Luis Camarillo, area welfare manager for the Mexico North Area, has seen the problems children in his area face and wanted to help those children. He and others started to look at problems children faced in the area and found that many suffered from two things.
“Nuevo Leon State has no street children; however, it has children suffering from abuse or who are abandoned,” Brother Camarillo said.
Brother Camarillo and other members found out about DIF’s efforts to help the children through a local foster-care program and decided that they would like to assist DIF. He contacted Dr. Alejandro Alberto Morton Martínez, the child and family protection director at DIF, and offered to partner with the group to help the program. Since then, members have been working with Dr. Morton on the foster-care program.
Thanks to offers from the Church and the State of Utah’s foster-care system, the DIF and others involved have been able to receive valuable training on the topic of foster-care.
“A couple of service missionaries came down here to Monterrey from Utah and provided basic training to about 50 potential trainers,” Brother Camarillo said.
Through Humanitarian Services, Brother Camarillo, Dr. Morton, and several others have been able to travel to Utah to receive intensive training from the Utah Department of Children and Family Services. The training covered the basics of how to set up and keep a foster-care system functioning and also offered participants field experience. While in Utah, the participants visited with the Church Welfare Department and LDS Family Services.
Although the foster-care program in Nuevo Leon is still progressing, the training Brother Camarillo and others have received thus far has already started to pay off.
“Because of the training, DIF has improved the recruiting and selection process of potential foster families,” Brother Camarillo said. “The children are expected to have better experiences … than others placed in families who were not recruited applying the new process learned through the Church.”
Thus far the experience of working with DIF has been a good one for everyone involved, including Brother Camarillo. “It is hard to find an organization whose members are as committed to doing good as are those working for DIF,” Brother Camarillo said. “It has been a wonderful experience working with such an organization.”
In addition to helping start the foster-care program, Brother Camarillo has helped orchestrate several humanitarian and service projects with DIF, in which wheelchairs, medical equipment, and furniture were donated.
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👤 Missionaries
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Abuse
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Service