Gospel Story Finder

One December we gathered together for a family meeting. We began by asking our 11-year-old son how he would feel if on his birthday we gave presents to everyone but him. He didn’t like that idea at all. We went on to ask if there is a holiday when we give gifts to others but not to the person whose birthday we are celebrating. It didn’t take the children long to realize we were talking about Christmas. We decided to start making Christmas more meaningful by giving gifts to Jesus Christ, whose birthday we are celebrating.
Our children wondered what they could give the Savior. We talked about what He desires of us. We discussed His Atonement and His desire for us to give up our sins and be obedient. We talked about how He wants us to give of ourselves by serving and sharing our talents.
That year, we had each family member write on slips of paper the gifts they planned to give the Savior and place the slips in a box. On Christmas morning, before we opened the other gifts, we had family prayer and shared with each other the gifts we were giving the Savior for the coming year.
As the years have come and gone, the tradition of giving gifts to Jesus Christ has helped our family focus on the real meaning of Christmas and on our love and gratitude for Him.
Scott and Angelle Anderson,Bluffdale Second Ward, Bluffdale Utah Stake

When Troy and Sheralee Johnson were young, they had a problem—with each other. They fought all the time.
“They just couldn’t seem to leave each other alone,” says their mom, LeAnn. “A lot of times they couldn’t even be in the same house together.”
At about the time Troy and Sheralee were having the most trouble getting along, the Johnsons decided it was time to commit the family to daily scripture study.
“During a general conference session when I was still pretty young, President Ezra Taft Benson counseled all of the Saints to read and study the Book of Mormon both as a family and personally. He promised blessings to all the families that followed his counsel. My parents decided that if anyone needed blessings, it was us,” says Sheralee.
A family meeting was held and all eight Johnsons agreed to get up early every morning to study together. That was more than nine years ago, and the family has hardly missed a day since.
The family’s dedication also brought about an unexpected, although welcome, result.
“When we started reading scriptures together, the overall feeling in our house changed, and Troy and I just didn’t fight anymore. We focused on other things, like school and church. Then, since we weren’t fighting, we could really get to know each other,” says Sheralee.
“I don’t remember anything specific happening to make us stop fighting,” says Troy. “Things just changed for the better and we started to get along. I guess we just had a better feeling in general and that made things better between us.”
Now Troy, a returned missionary, and Sheralee, a student at BYU, are friends. In fact, Sheralee says she really missed having Troy around while he was on his mission in Rome, Italy.
“Until he was gone, I didn’t really realize what an integral part of my life Troy had become. I couldn’t wait to see him again,” she says. The rest of the Johnson siblings, Curtis, Benjamin, Michael, and Angie, are now carrying on the tradition, getting up at the crack of dawn to study the gospel every day.
“Growing up, I learned how the Book of Mormon affects our lives,” says Troy. “The same feeling continued on my mission, and that helped with the work.”
“Our parents really taught us the importance of the Book of Mormon. We knew that if they made that much of an effort to get us up, it must be important,” adds Sheralee.
Is getting up at 5:30 A.M. to study scriptures with your family a challenge? Troy, who isn’t a morning person, answers a hearty “yes.” Is it worth it? Troy and Sheralee both say they wouldn’t have it any other way.

President McKay had evidently seen the temple in vision and described it in such detail to Church architect Edward O. Anderson that he was able to reproduce it on paper. As the design process proceeded, the initial drawing was modified. Upon seeing the latest drawings, President McKay said, “Brother Anderson, that is not the temple that you and I saw together.” The final drawings, needless to say, reflected President McKay’s original description.

I was recently called as Relief Society president in my district. I am truly grateful for the privilege of having this new assignment because I consider callings to be a sign of the trust the Lord places in us to help further His work. But at the same time, it is a challenge to live up to that privilege, and we often feel uneasy about whether we will be able to fully fulfill what the Lord expects of us.
My first assignment in this new responsibility was to choose my counselors. I prayed and meditated deeply for several days after the call was extended to me. Our district is made up of five branches. I had an extensive list of sisters from whom I could choose, but I didn’t know most of them personally.
Still, I strove to draw closer to the Lord, seek inspiration, and ask for His guidance in prayer. One night, I had a special dream in which I was visiting the home of a sister I didn’t know. My husband was with me in the dream. While in her home, we learned about many of the challenges she was facing in her family. As we left her home, I said to my husband, “I know that she (mentioning her name specifically) will be one of my counselors.” When the Relief Society presidents from each branch shared with me the list of names of the sisters who didn’t have a calling in their units, to my astonishment, the name I had mentioned in my dream appeared on one of them. When I looked at it, I knew this was the sister the Lord wanted me to choose as one of my counselors.
I wanted some reassurance about that impression. Before I made a decision, I decided to visit each branch, participate in their classes, and meet as many of the sisters as I could. I wanted to know for myself if she was the right choice. I felt a deep commitment to making a decision that the Lord would be pleased with. Due to circumstances, I wasn’t able to visit all the units, which concerned me.
This was my state of mind as I began watching general conference. I already had two names in mind, but I hadn’t suggested them to my district president yet. With a prayer in my heart, I listened to the conference, hoping to receive inspiration. I received my answer as Elder Steven D. Shumway of the Seventy taught, “While the easier path may be to give faithful members a second calling, the more excellent way is to invite the unlikely to serve and let them learn and grow.” I realized the sisters didn’t need my approval, nor did they need experience to serve in this calling. The Lord knew them and their potential. He directs His Church, and He chooses His leaders.
After I turned in the names and the sisters received their new callings, I talked with the good sister I had dreamed about and learned more about her. She told me she wasn’t very active in the Church, but even though she didn’t know what she should do, she had a great desire to learn. She knew this new assignment would allow her to draw closer to Heavenly Father and enjoy His love more fully. This filled my heart with great joy.
This experience helped me reaffirm my conviction that Jesus Christ directs His Church, that leaders are called by Him, and that we don’t need perfect knowledge but rather a genuine willingness to learn and do the things the Lord expects of us. President Thomas S. Monson (1927–2018) taught: “It is the Lord’s work, and when we are on the Lord’s errand, we are entitled to the Lord’s help. Remember that whom the Lord calls, the Lord qualifies.”

“A very long time ago,” Mom began, “long before even Grandma and Grandpa were born, there was a young family. They lived on a farm. It wasn’t an easy life. They had to work very hard. One year their daddy had to go away and find work so they’d have money to buy food. He left his wife and three daughters all by themselves.”
“My great-grandma was one of the daughters, wasn’t she?” asked Robbin.
Mom nodded. “That’s right.”
Mom went on with the story. “Well, Thanksgiving came and there was hardly anything to eat. Your great-great-grandmother felt sorry for her sweet little girls. But she had an idea. She took—”
“Flour,” said Dad.
“And salt,” said Robbin.
“And shortening,” said Mom with a nod. “She made pie crust. Then she cut it into long strips. And then she took some cream from their cows and whipped it up. On Thanksgiving morning she and the girls used the pie crust and cream to make small log cabins.”
Dad came over and leaned on the counter. “And we make our log cabins every year to remind us of the many blessings Heavenly Father has given us.”
“And because it’s fun!” said Robbin.
Mom and Dad laughed. “Yes, it is.”
Dad checked the pie crust. The white strips he’d put in the oven had turned a beautiful golden color. “Done!” He slid the piecrust “logs” onto a rack to cool.
Robbin sniffed the freshly baked pie-crust logs. They smelled warm and delicious.
Later that day Robbin’s cousins came over. Mom brought out a large plate piled high with logs ready to use. She put the plate next to a bowl of whipped cream. All the children hurried to the table.
Know what’s fun? Starting a new family tradition! Like starting Thanksgiving in October with our friends in Canada!
“Wait!” said Mom. “Before you begin, who can remember the story of the log cabins?”
Robbin felt happy inside as one of her cousins started telling the story. They had a house and plenty of food. She was glad they had a special way to celebrate all the blessings Heavenly Father had given them.

I’m Dallin. I love singing, acting, playing instruments, and doing basically anything outdoors. My teacher asked me to join her choir. I told her I would but I would not perform on Sunday. She said she had other Mormons in her choir, so she never had performances on Sunday. I was so happy that there were others before me who stood up for their standards. I know Heavenly Father will provide a way for you to be happy and keep your standards.
Dallin P., Arizona, USA

I think one of the beautiful pictures that I remember back in the early days of the program was when we looked up and saw a beautiful field, white with cotton bolls, and then saw the Relief Society sisters, the Primary children, the men and women and children in the rows of cotton with their long bags trailing behind them. They were learning to pick cotton. When they went to weigh, they always were disappointed. They thought they had 150 pounds dragging behind them, and it turned out to be only eight or ten. I remember they were happy; they were doing something that was constructive. They were helping others. I remember sometimes in their happiness they would sing songs like “Way Down Upon the Swanee River.”
I have seen them picking fruit, cherries, apples and peaches, and it seems to me there was a new dimension that had been added when they felt they were doing something constructive, something they did not have to do, something they wanted to do for their own people.

Dear Mom and Dad,
These last two months at school have been tough living away from home. I miss you. You trained and brought me up well.
I realize that you really had a hard time with me. I remember I was always bucking the system, doing the opposite of what you wanted. Now that I’m taking all these family living courses for my major, I realize that I didn’t turn out all that bad. The one main reason is that you cared about what happened to me. I realize now that you both never punished me without love.
Mom, I am sorry for the times that, after you had spanked me with good reason, I told you that I hated you. I would write it on a piece of paper and then give it to you. I was just mad that I didn’t get my way, but I really did love you.
Thanks for teaching me how to work and how to clean up after myself. I really was a slob and lazy when it came to picking up after myself, but now at college my room is clean, and I can’t stand a mess. I almost never helped with the yard work, but the rare times that I did you were always there helping too. It was fun. Even after you hurt your back, you were out pulling weeds. I really missed that this summer.
When people ask me about my adoption, they always ask the questions. “Do you want to know or meet your real mother?” I tell them, “I already have.” You are my real mother. I would like to know more about my natural mother, but for “real” parents—you both are mine. I am so grateful for that woman who brought me into the world. As I grow and understand the gospel more, I believe that this is the way the Lord wanted it, and how we wanted it. We are a special family—three of us adopted, and a very special little brother. It is so important to have a family sealed like we were in the temple.
One thing I like about our family is that we have always done things together. Remember the summer we went to the East Coast? Mom, you told stories about when you were a little girl and Grandpa took you back there. That summer was also the year after you hurt your back. In a way I was glad because I got the chance to pay you back in a way for everything you’ve done for me.
My earliest memories always have you both in them—helping me tie my shoes, playing on the beach, playing games, camping and fishing. Remember when I caught my first fish? You had to put it on a stick so we could take my picture with it.
Then as I got older and was in junior high, you came to those mini-gymnastics meets. You put my ribbons in my book and made me feel like somebody special. You always supported me in everything I did, driving me to and picking me up from play practice, or just being there when I got home.
Then came high school! East was big and scary, but you told me I could do it, and if you knew I could then I could. You came to all my gymnastics meets. Then we would come home and talk about it. Mom, you didn’t get as nervous as Dad did when I was flying between bars or tumbling on the floor. But my favorite, the one that scared you both the most, was the vault.
Now I am in college. I was excited to get to Ricks College. That last little bit before I left, you were there letting me cry on your shoulder and telling me things about when you were young.
Thanks, Mom and Dad, for always being there when I needed you and even when I didn’t. You are great. I hope I can live my life the way you have taught me. I know I never really took all the chances that I have had to tell you how much I love you, but I really do love you a lot.
Love,
Your daughter

Eight-year-old Alicia-anne and her parents have had some very special spiritual experiences. In 1997, three sister missionaries knocked on their door. The missionaries taught them the discussions, and the family immediately knew that the gospel was true. On August 10, 1997, Alicia-anne saw her father, Gordon, and mother, Myrna, baptized members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Alicia-anne, who often goes by the nickname Ali, looked forward to her own baptism in three years.
On November 20, 1999, another important event happened. The Attridges were the first family sealed together in the newly dedicated Halifax Nova Scotia Temple. “I felt very happy and warm inside after I was sealed to my parents,” Ali said. “Now I know I can be with my mom and dad forever.”
“Looking in the mirrors in the sealing room, we saw our family going on forever,” Mother added. “Since Ali is adopted, this was the most wonderful day in our lives because we will be a family forever.”
When Ali’s eighth birthday drew near, she asked her parents if she could be baptized on her birthday—she was too excited to wait a day longer! They were able to schedule it, so on July 11, 2000, she was baptized a member of the Church. She was delighted to have her Grandma and Grandpa Balsor in attendance. “My grandparents were so touched by the Spirit that they cried,” she said. After the baptism, her mother felt inspired to give them a copy of the Book of Mormon.
Ali is a CTR in the Greenwood Branch Primary of the Dartmouth Nova Scotia Stake. A good missionary, she often invites her friends to Primary and its activity days so that they can learn about the Church. She also tries to set a good example at school by being kind, generous, and honest.
Some of her best missionary tools are her cats, Lehi, Nephi, and Fluffy. When she tells someone their names, she is often asked to explain where the names Lehi and Nephi come from. A discussion about the Book of Mormon and the Church soon follows.
Whether at church or at home, Ali enjoys singing. Her lovely voice often accompanies whatever activity she is doing at home. She likes to sing songs from Primary, movies, and operas. Someday, she would like to be a professional singer or dancer.
She is very active and likes to get her work done quickly in school so that she has plenty of time at recess. Swinging very high on the swings and playing on the monkey bars are what she likes best. “I can hang upside down, skip one or two bars, or do an ‘apple-turnover’ flip on the monkey bars. Once my hands were too slick, though, and I fell flat on my face and scratched it!”
Ali also enjoys doing activities with her family. “I like to go swimming at anytime, in any weather, in shallow or deep water—but if I see a fish, I scream. I don’t like fish; they scare me!”
Beachcombing is another enjoyable family activity. The Attridges like to collect ropes, buoys, driftwood, shells, and rocks. At home, Ali and her mom wash the rocks and then paint them. Ali is proud of the Noah’s Ark rock she designed and painted. “The rainbow I painted on it represents God’s promise to Noah.”
At family home evening, she is happy to read or listen to scripture stories. She has read the Book of Mormon Reader twice and also likes to read from a book of children’s Bible stories. The great faith shown by the brother of Jared is her favorite scripture story. She also enjoys learning about the Jaredites traveling to the promised land.
For a family home evening activity, she is always eager to go to the Kingston Family Fitness Trail. Walking along the trail, the family enjoys the beautiful forested scenery. Ali likes them to stop and participate in each of the fitness activities along the way. She enjoys climbing the fishnet, jumping like a frog over the short poles, balancing on the beam, running through the tire maze, and finally stopping at the end to watch the ducks in the pond.
Prayer is an important part of Ali’s life. She remembers to say her personal prayers, and she suggested that the family pray together both morning and night. A prayer before each meal is important, too. She reminds them if they forget.
Ali loves her family very much. She is grateful that they are members of the Church and have been able to enjoy the many blessings of the gospel.

I saw that diligence and heard that laughter when, late on a Saturday, I visited with a group of Latter-day Saints in Florida. The volunteers stopped their cleanup labor long enough to let me shake some hands. They said that 90 members of their stake in Georgia had created a plan to join in the rescue in Florida just the night before.
They left Georgia at 4:00 in the morning, drove for hours, worked through the day and into the night, and planned to labor again the next day.
They described it to me all with smiles and good humor. The only stress I sensed was that they wanted to stop being thanked so they could get back to work. The stake president had restarted his chain saw and was working on a downed tree and a bishop was moving tree limbs as we got into our vehicle to go to the next rescue team.

The European trip was one of the first professional ventures the family undertook. It consisted of 28 concerts in 10 countries, many of them given for local Church groups in areas they visited.
“In England the missions used the concerts for fellowshipping,” Brother Phelps said. “They told us, ‘We’ve had people attend who haven’t been to church in 15 years!’ One of the mission presidents invited the entire town to hear the concert, had the mayor speak, and then had our family present the mayor with a Book of Mormon. During the intermission of a concert in France, a missionary came dancing back to tell us, ‘I’ve got my first contact, my first investigator!’”

I know of a family who once a month holds a “provident living family council.” With mother and father, the children determine how $25 out of their budget—in addition to their tithes and offerings—will be distributed to an individual in need. Last month, $25 went to a young child in the Primary Children’s Medical Center. This is one way to teach compassion to children, especially as they visit the sick child in the hospital. (By the way, the children now want to save more money to give to the needy in next month’s budget.) This family does other charitable acts, too. They do not give money and feel that they have done their compassionate service.

When I was a child, my family traveled to the Tokyo Japan Temple. The 12-hour car trip was long, but we were grateful for the time we got to spend together, and we spent the drive discussing our excitement about going to the temple.
At the time I wasn’t yet 12 years old, so I was only able to enter the temple lobby. But the sacred nature of that space filled my heart with the warmth of the Spirit.
I could have stayed in that lobby forever. So when it came time to return home, tears started streaming down my face. The temple quickly grew smaller and smaller in the distance as we drove away, and I already missed the strong Spirit I had felt inside.
I was determined to return one day. If the Spirit was that strong in the lobby, I couldn’t wait to experience what it felt like to actually go inside and perform ordinances. I wanted to do whatever I could to prepare to go inside someday.

When I was in Grade 4, I changed schools. At the new school, things were OK until one day our gym teacher told us that we would be taking swimming lessons. But I had already taken swim lessons at my old school. So after class I told the teacher that. “Oh, lucky you, then,” was her response.
No, I thought. Not lucky me, more like unlucky me. Ever since I was little I had hated swimming lessons. I was terrified of them. So now that I had to take swim lessons twice in one school year, it seemed like the worst thing in the entire world.
The night before swim lessons, after my mom tucked me in, I sat on my bed and asked Heavenly Father to help me somehow, because I really did not like swim lessons and I needed His help.
The next day I was really nervous as we went to the pool and got ready for swim lessons. As I sat on the pool deck, still cold from the showers, they began to call names and put kids in groups depending on their swim level. As they called my name, I realized that I had been put in a group where the swim teacher was a lady who was in my ward.
When the lessons were finally over, I found out that I had not passed the level I had been in. But this did not matter to me because I knew that Heavenly Father had helped put me in the group with that swim teacher in order to help me—and it had. Having that swim teacher there gave me strength.
I know that having that swim teacher there was no accident. Heavenly Father knew my struggles and cared about me. I know that no matter who we are or where we are, Heavenly Father knows us. And if we need His help, all we have to do is ask and He will help us.

Heber J. Grant’s wife Lucy was sick for nearly three years. He knew that she was dying, so he gathered their children into the room.
Heber: The Lord is calling your mother home to be with Him.
Daughter: I don’t want Mama to die! She has felt better lots of times after a priesthood blessing. Can’t you heal her?
Heber: If I tried, I feel it would be against God’s will.
Heber sent his children out of the room and prayed.
Heber: Heavenly Father, I won’t complain that my wife is dying, but I can’t bear to see the faith of my children shaken. If it is Thy will for Lucy to die, please give my daughter peace.
Within a few hours, Lucy passed away. When Heber told his children, his little son started crying. But Heber knew that his prayer had been answered.
Daughter: Don’t cry! I prayed, and the Holy Ghost told me that it is God’s will for our mama to die. Everything will be all right.

When my father-in-law passed away, our family gathered together to greet others who came to pay their respects. Throughout the evening, as I visited with family and friends, I often noticed our 10-year-old grandson, Porter, standing near my mother-in-law—his “granny.” Sometimes he was standing behind her, watching over her. Once I noticed his arm linked with hers. I watched him pat her hands, give her little hugs, and stand by her side.
For several days after that experience, I couldn’t get this image out of my mind. I was prompted to send Porter a note, telling him what I had observed. I emailed him and told him what I had seen and felt. I reminded Porter of the covenants he had made when he was baptized, quoting Alma’s words in Mosiah chapter 18:
“And now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light;
“Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, … that ye may have eternal life—
“… If this be the desire of your hearts, what have you against being baptized in the name of the Lord, as a witness before him that ye have entered into a covenant with him, that ye will serve him and keep his commandments, that he may pour out his Spirit more abundantly upon you?”
I explained to Porter that Alma taught that those who want to be baptized need to be willing to serve the Lord by serving others—for your whole life! I said: “I don’t know if you realized it, but the way you showed love and concern for Granny was keeping your covenants. We keep our covenants every day as we are kind, show love, and take care of each other. I just wanted you to know I’m proud of you for being a covenant keeper! As you keep the covenant you made when you were baptized, you will be prepared to be ordained to the priesthood. This additional covenant will give you more opportunities to bless and serve others and help you to prepare for the covenants you will make in the temple. Thank you for being such a good example to me! Thank you for showing me what it looks like to be a covenant keeper!”
Porter replied back: “Grandma, thanks for the message. When I was always hugging Granny, I didn’t know that I was keeping my covenants, but I felt warm in my heart and felt really good. I know that it was the Holy Ghost in my heart.”
I also felt warm in my heart when I realized that Porter had connected keeping his covenants with the promise to “always have his Spirit to be with [us]”—a promise made possible by receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost.

Recently I read the true account of a dramatic manifestation concerning these promises. A faithful member of the Church, John A. Larsen, served during World War II in the United States Coast Guard on the ship USS Cambria. During a battle in the Philippines, word came of an approaching squadron of bombers and kamikaze fighter planes. Orders were given for immediate evacuation. Since the USS Cambria was already gone, John and three companions gathered their gear and hurried to the beach, hoping for a lift out to one of the departing ships. Fortunately, a landing craft picked them up and sped toward the last ship leaving the bay. The men on that departing ship, in an effort to evacuate as quickly as possible, were busy on deck and had time only to throw ropes to the four men, that they might hopefully be able to climb to the deck.
John, with a heavy radio strapped to his back, found himself dangling at the end of a 40-foot (12 m) rope, at the side of a ship headed out to the open sea. He began pulling himself up, hand over hand, knowing that if he lost his grip, he would almost certainly perish. After climbing only a third of the way, he felt his arms burning with pain. He had become so weak that he felt he could no longer hold on.
With his strength depleted, as he grimly contemplated his fate, John silently cried unto God, telling Him that he had always kept the Word of Wisdom and had lived a clean life—and he now desperately needed the promised blessings.
John later said that as he finished his prayer, he felt a great surge of strength. He began climbing once again and fairly flew up the rope. When he reached the deck, his breathing was normal and not the least bit labored. The blessings of added health and stamina promised in the Word of Wisdom had been his. He gave thanks to his Heavenly Father then, and throughout the remainder of his life, for the answer to his desperate prayer for help.

When my son Davy joined his school’s cross-country team in his fourth-grade year, his great talent for running quickly became apparent. He placed high in races against other competitive runners, and we were very proud of him.
Davy was soon invited to join a running club some local coaches had started. It was a great opportunity, but there was one problem—many of the meets were on Sundays. So Davy turned down their invitation.
When Davy didn’t accept their invitation the next year, the coaches assumed my husband and I were preventing him from joining the club. But we let them know the choice was Davy’s own.
Davy’s answer to the coaches was, “I would really like to join the club, but I don’t run on Sundays.”
By the sixth grade, Davy had developed a real “kick” in his running that kept him among the top two or three runners in every school meet. Again came the invitation to join the running club. This time there was an added incentive—the boys were planning to go across the United States to compete in the national finals for their age group. The coaches and team members really wanted Davy to join them.
Davy received the priesthood and was ordained a deacon that year. When he discussed with us the invitation from the running club, we asked only, “Son, what about your priesthood responsibilities?”
Davy’s answer to the team was, “I need to be in church on Sundays.”
The club went to the national finals, competed against teams from all over the country, and won; they were the national champions. When the boys returned home, the school, the parents, and the club coaches were ecstatic with their accomplishment. The school held a special assembly with newspaper reporters and TV cameras. They called the boys up one by one as loud applause rang from the audience.
Davy sat and watched as each boy received the recognition that might have been his had he chosen differently. My heart ached for him as I saw the tears in his eyes. I tapped him on the shoulder, and we left the cheering crowd. In a secluded spot, I held him tight, and we cried together for a moment. Then I told him how proud I was of him. Davy had done what Heavenly Father expected of him. The admiration of the crowd and the recognition of the world are powerful attractions, but they have little to do with our eternal progress.
A few days later, I shared Davy’s experience with a friend. Shortly afterwards, my friend sent Davy a letter, along with a trophy. On the trophy was inscribed, “Davy: A Champion of Youth.”
The letter read: “You were given agency to choose. Thank you for your example. You are truly a champion.”

The Lord also provided for me by helping me get a job at a doctor’s office. Soon I had an opportunity to certify to work in emergency care. I took the certification class, but the exam fell just two weeks after my baby was born. I had studied and attended class all through the course, but during those two weeks when I needed to study the most, I also needed to take care of my new daughter. I was overwhelmed. Without study time, I wasn’t sure I could pass the exam.
I was about to give up and not take the test, but then I realized that the Lord had blessed me with this opportunity. When I prayed, the Spirit assured me that I had done my part and I would receive the Lord’s help.
Trusting that the Lord would help me, I took the exam. I was relieved to find that it focused on material I knew best. I passed, and the increased opportunities that the emergency certification gave me were exactly what my family needed. I was able to spend more time with my children and earn more money to care for them.

I slammed the plate into the dishwasher and cried in frustration.
“Erin, you can go to that pool party,” my dad said. “You can take a break.”
“It’s not about that!” I yelled as I stormed from the room.
My tantrum wasn’t about Adriane’s pool party. My mom and my youngest sister, Abby, were sick with pneumonia. My dad and I had spent the last week caring for them and trying to keep the household functioning normally. This meant cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, doing laundry, and driving my other two sisters around.
All of these things muffled my nagging worries and fears. I was worried about my family and nervous about leaving for college soon. So I kept myself busy and tried to ignore my fears. I had even planned on skipping Adriane’s party, but I was tired and the thought of a carefree evening, hanging out with friends by the pool, pushed my emotions over the edge. I exploded and took out my frustration on my dad.
I cried for a while in my bedroom. Then, feeling guilty, I went upstairs to see if my mom or Abby needed anything. I found my mother giving medicine to my fever-flushed sister. My mom was barely able to breathe and had been bedridden for days. My dad and I urged her to return to bed. We told her that we could take care of Abby. She wouldn’t listen.
“I’m all right. You two get some sleep,” she said. “Abby needs me.”
I tried not to cry as I watched my mom comfort my 10-year-old sister. She checked her temperature, helped her into bed, then crawled in after her and held her shaking body. Abby stopped moaning and calmed under my mom’s protection.
My mom was more ill than she had ever been. The pneumonia would eventually send her to the hospital for several days. Yet in the middle of her trial, she forgot about herself. Rather than complaining about her own illness, she found a way to ease her daughter’s pain.
I had planned on becoming the martyr that night by staying home to help. Instead, I was embarrassed by my outburst and humbled by my mother’s actions. Watching her, I knew she would do anything to help my sisters and me.
I felt her love that night and wanted to follow her example. I resolved to show those I love that I will be there when they need me, regardless of the personal sacrifice required.