Gospel Story Finder

During this holiday season, I’m reminded of a story about my grandma that my mom has shared with us many times.
It was Christmas Eve, and my mom was about 12 years old. She and her mom and sisters were traveling across town to visit family, and it was raining hard outside. Grandma had a tradition of making plates upon plates of Christmas goodies for family friends and loved ones. The car was full, traffic was crazy, and everyone was trying to rush home for the holidays or get their last-minute shopping done.
In the middle of it all was a homeless man with a shopping cart full of cans. He started to cross the street at a red light, and all of a sudden the whole cart fell over. Cans were everywhere! It seemed as though the chaos of Christmas went silent. My mom wondered why no one was helping. An outburst of horns began to honk, as if to tell the man to get out of the way.
To my mom’s surprise, her mom got out of the car and quickly began helping the man pick up his cans. Then other people followed. It was pouring rain, and my grandma was wet when she returned to the car. As they sat in the backed-up traffic, my aunts, mom, and grandma all had a wonderful idea to rush out of the car and give the man a plate of Christmas goodies. In that moment, as my grandma gave the man the Christmas gift, my mom’s heart was touched with the reminder of the true meaning of Christmas.

When I was young, I had an experience with heavenly help and goals. There was a radio repair shop close to where I lived, and I got a job there to sweep out the shop. While there, I became fascinated with radio. The owner of the shop showed me how to do some basic radio repair, and my interest increased. I continued to learn more by reading books, and soon I discovered that I could be certified as a transmitter engineer if I took an exam. Now I was developing a goal.
I studied, took the exam, passed, and was licensed as a transmitter engineer while I was still in high school. When I got a little older, I became a radio announcer, which allowed me to introduce records and interview people. I kept that job all through high school and college. Even after I got married, that was my source of support for my family. It affected my life a great deal to have a goal and have heavenly help in pursuing that goal.

A friend of mine had planned on going on a mission but was having doubts. I shared with him my feelings about missions, the great importance of them. I then bore my testimony of my great love for the gospel and for Heavenly Father and his Son, Jesus Christ. It must have made my friend think. He is now planning for his mission. He has already submitted his papers.
My advice to you is to wait for the right moment to discuss this with him. If you’re afraid of being too pushy, take it one step at a time. If you don’t know the right things to say, ask Heavenly Father to help you.
Kaylene Miller, 15Magna, Utah

My friends and I started to play video games a little each day. Soon we were playing two hours a day. When we talked to each other during the games, things that normally wouldn’t be said were said. I decided that every time my friends would play video games, I would make better use of my time by doing something else. I soon found that I was a lot happier inside. Video games can be fun, but when they’re filled with vulgar language and violence, Satan can corrupt our minds.

Andreia C., 17, Portugal
Right now, I’m a senior in high school, and this year I’m going to apply for college. When I’m old enough, I’m going to serve a mission. I can’t wait! I also love the color yellow, and I really like to sing, play the piano, draw, paint, and go on walks.
One of the most spiritual experiences I’ve ever had was quite simple, but it meant a lot to me. There was a time when I was going through some trials and each day I felt more and more incapable. I felt I should talk to Heavenly Father about it, so I did. I knelt down and spoke to Him as openly as possible. Once I finished praying, I opened the scriptures at random and I opened up to a scripture that really helped me with what I was going through at the time.
In my case, it usually takes me some time to find the answers to my prayers, but this experience was so important to me because it was the first time I received a direct answer. How the Spirit felt was really indescribable. After this experience, my testimony has definitely grown. It taught me that the Lord always answers our sincere prayers, even if it takes time.

For an entire year Brother Assard fruitlessly sought employment. The strain of providing for his family weighed heavily upon him. He did not, however, let the difficulty of finding a job prevent him from moving the work of the Lord forward. He and Sister Assard sent letters to members on the list they had received in Germany. The Lucien Affoué family of Abidjan was the first to respond. Both families rejoiced to know they were not alone. Other members in Ivory Coast also responded but were too remote to meet with them.
As Lucien Affoué traveled with his family to Lyon, France, to study industrial arts, he had no idea the most important education he would receive there would be spiritual. Lucien; his wife, Agathe; and their two daughters embraced the gospel soon after full-time missionaries knocked on their door in 1980. The Bordeaux Branch welcomed the family into the Church, and after proving faithful, the Affoués and their daughters were sealed in the Swiss Temple.
When they returned to Ivory Coast in 1984, the Affoués, now with an infant son, were disappointed not to find any other Church members. Nevertheless, they diligently held meetings in their home, praying for the fellowship of another Latter-day Saint family.
Despite their difficult economic situation, the Affoués rejoiced in April 1986 when they received a letter from the Assards. The two families soon began holding joint Sunday meetings in the Assards’ backyard. As they worked, worshiped, and prayed together for employment, the families grew close and strengthened each other spiritually. Sister Affoué and Sister Assard became as close as sisters.
The Affoués had their prayers answered when Brother Affoué found a teaching job in Bouaké, the nation’s second largest city, located approximately 370 kilometers northwest of Abidjan. They had to leave the growing Church group in Abidjan. But with strengthened testimonies and faith, the Affoués helped establish the Church in Bouaké in 1988. There the family spread the gospel, eventually receiving welcome help from a missionary couple assigned to the area.
Brother Affoué served as branch president for four years, then continued as branch president after the branch was divided. Today he serves as a counselor to the mission president. Sister Affoué served as Relief Society president, while the children taught classes and helped out their small branch in other ways.
The Church’s first chapel in Ivory Coast was dedicated in April 1997, a decade after the country was dedicated for the preaching of the gospel and shortly before the creation of the country’s first stake. A chapel of their own represents a milestone for Ivorian Latter-day Saints, including the Affoués and the Assards, who have longed for a chapel in their native land since the two families first met under a tree in their home village 11 years ago.

I wanted to share the light the gospel brought to my life, so exactly one year from the date of my baptism, I sent in my application to serve a full-time mission. Hoping that my father’s heart had softened, I told him about my decision. His reaction was unexpectedly angry. I sat quietly in my room all night, and after work the next day, I was too scared to come home. I was still working when my father came into my workplace. After a long silence he finally asked, “Do you really want to leave all of these things—your home, your friends, your education, your work—only to go someplace you don’t even know?” I said, “Yes.” After that, we did not talk until the day I left for my mission. That day came 10 short days after I received my call to serve in the Utah Salt Lake City Temple Square Mission.

I once met with an attractive woman in her early 20s. She was very much in love with her handsome fiancé and their wedding was quickly approaching. During their courtship, there were a number of times when he had been verbally abusive and his temper had flared. On one occasion, he shoved her. Although she loved him and was attracted to him, she began to seriously consider breaking off the engagement. She went through many difficult days of pitch darkness, not knowing what to do. Then she followed the counsel in Doctrine and Covenants 9: 7-9:

"Behold, you have not understood; you have supposed that I would give it unto you, when you took no thought save it was to ask me.

But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind: then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right.

But if it be not right, you shall have no such feeling, but you shall have a stupor of thought that shall cause you to forget the thing which is wrong."

So we don't ask, "Lord, what should I do?" but we use our own ability to think and make a plan and present it to him and He will let us know if it is right or not.

The young woman studied it out in her mind. She put facts together; she considered all sides of the situation. Then she made a decision that she should not marry him because of his temper, abusive nature and selfishness. In prayer, she presented this decision to the Lord and asked him if this was right. What happened was exactly like the scriptures say. She had a burning in the bosom, a strong feeling that her decision was right that she should not marry him. She then lost the desire to marry him, which was the stupor of thought, and although it was a late decision, she cancelled the wedding. That decision, although very difficult, led her to wonderful opportunities and she later married a patient, kind, humble, faithful man in the temple. She listened and obeyed and it made all the difference in her life.

My first teaching assignment was at a community college. I enjoyed it, but it was a marked contrast from the LDS environment I had been in at Ricks. I taught several subjects, but in my spare time I directed a couple of plays.

When the night of the first performance came, I found I was as nervous as ever and needed prayer. How would my cast feel about that? I went over notes with the cast before the first show and tried to summon up my courage to suggest having prayer to this nonreligious group.

Finally I said, “Ah … I don’t know how any of you feel about this, but … well … I feel we need to have a word of prayer before we start. If you don’t mind, I will offer it.”

In my prayer, I asked for all those miracles we usually ask for in preperformance prayers to make our show a success. I then took my place in a back corner of our makeshift theater, and the curtain went up on what turned out to be a very successful production.

The next day at school, no one said anything about the prayer—no complaints, no reinforcement.

That night before the second night of the play, I made my usual speech about what we needed to do to make the play work, but I couldn’t summon enough courage to suggest prayer again. I felt the cast was humoring me. I felt perhaps a private prayer away from the others would do.

After my little pep talk, I again took my place in my corner and waited for the lights to come up. I felt someone tug at my arm. It was the assistant director, one of my students.

“Mr. Eaton, we haven’t had our prayer yet,” he whispered.

I gulped hard and fought back tears as I went backstage and offered another request for the Lord to touch our spirits as we tried to entertain a community college audience.

That is not the end of the story.
The next year I had a cast of students who were by no means religious. We had our problems, and I had the feeling it might be inappropriate to ask that group of students to calm down enough for prayer. I never suggested prayer before their first opening night.

It was a terrible performance. I’m not blaming anyone. We just did a poor job.

I had the cast stay after for a line rehearsal, but it took me more than an hour to go over my notes and point out what needed to be corrected by the next night. There was no mistaking that I was upset.

As we were leaving the theater, a few of the cast members were walking to the parking lot with me. One of the least religious of the group said, “Last year I heard you had prayer before performances.”

I was stunned. “Yes,” I said, “we did.”

“How come we didn’t have it this year?”

“I didn’t think any of you would want to have prayer,” I answered.

“I would,” he said without hesitation.

“So would I,” another added.

The next night we had prayer and our performance went off without a flaw. I’m not saying prayer can overcome poor rehearsals, failure to learn lines, or lack of preparation. But it can focus what a cast has going for it. It can bring them together in a unity of purpose.

And certainly, it can comfort a nervous, tense director.

“What’s wrong, Bryan? You look pretty disgusted,” Grandpa said, coming out of his house next door.
“I am disgusted, Grandpa,” Bryan grumbled. “Today we were assigned a subject for our reports, and Mrs. Hall gave me leaves. Who cares about leaves? And how can a teacher expect me to find any of them in the winter? I counted twenty-seven trees and shrubs in your yard and ours, and every one of them is bare! The only green things I found were some needles on pines and other evergreens. But no leaves!”
“You aren’t trying, Bryan,” the pleasant gray-haired man said. Reaching down, Grandpa plucked a three-leaf clover from a tiny patch of grass between Bryan’s feet.
“The best place to look for leaves in the right season is on trees, because they have so many of them. But look at this tiny leaf. It’s a bit of green, but each leaf is a miraculous little factory gathering sunlight to make a chemical called chlorophyll.
“A leaf can be any size, but because of its distinctive shape, you can tell whether it once grew on a towering oak, an elm, or a maple tree. No two leaves are ever exactly the same.”
Bryan examined the clover leaf with new interest as his grandfather talked.
“All most people know about a tree is that it is pretty, makes property more valuable, gives birds a nesting place, and has leaves that make cool shade,” Grandpa continued. “But one single well-watered tree does a lot more than that. The daily evaporation from one tree can produce the cooling effect of hundreds of air-conditioners.”
“Wow!” Bryan said with new interest. “Then trees should be preserved instead of being bulldozed down. No wonder the ladies from the garden club worked to save those big trees in front of the library!”
“Those trees were large even when I was a boy,” Grandpa told Bryan. “Did you know that leaves protect the soil from raindrop impact that erodes the soil away? Leaves also stabilize water tables in the ground so wells don’t go dry, and they have the ability to absorb polluted air and throw off air rich in oxygen,” he added.
“Leaves are essential to life. They help muffle noise and moderate temperature, wind, and water. Some maple leaves will turn upside down, exposing their lighter sides, to warn of approaching rain!”
“I wonder if the people interested in ecology know all that,” Bryan said thoughtfully. “All I knew was that we find millions of leaves on the ground in autumn. I knew that leaves hang onto trees until fall, when they turn many beautiful colors and then fall off.”
“Dead leaves can still serve man,” Grandpa explained. “Plants can be covered with them to survive in the winter. When ground up or shredded, leaves make a good mulch to fertilize the lawn, or they can be turned into rich compost for the garden.
“Certain leaves also represent different things. The laurel leaf is a symbol of victory. Olive leaves have been symbols of peace and hope ever since the time of Noah when a dove brought an olive leaf back to the ark to show that the flood was over. Oak leaves stand for strength, glory, and honor.”
Bryan stared at the three tiny leaves wilting in his hand. “My report on leaves will be much more exciting than I thought. But I wish I had some leaves to tape into my notebook.”
“What do you see filling all of Grandma’s windows over there?” Grandpa asked.
“Plants! Her house plants,” Bryan answered. “Grandma must have lots of different kinds of leaves! Thanks, Grandpa.”
I’ll bet no one else was given a subject as important as mine, Bryan thought as he started across the yard to ask Grandma for some leaves for his notebook. Now he could hardly wait to get started on his report!

Express your thanks to your parents, your siblings, your grandparents--all those in your life who have been instrumental in loving you, nurturing you and providing for both your temporal and spiritual needs. Express your thanks often and sincerely. My mother passed away rather unexpectedly many years ago. While in the hospital for a routine procedure, due to human error with medication administration she suffered a stroke to the brain stem and never regained consciousness. There was no time to express final thoughts with someone whom I loved so dearly. She was gone before we had that opportunity. But because I had expressed my love and appreciation to my mother on a nearly daily basis, I was not burdened with the thought of "if only"--"if only" I had told my mother how thankful I was for her; "if only" I had told her how much I looked to her as an example of a righteous Latter-day Saint woman; "if only" I had expressed my love and appreciation. I had told her, often and sincerely, and I knew that she knew.

Recalling his childhood in the Church of England, Elder Cuthbert said, “I sang in the church choir in three services each Sunday. The choirmistress was a good teacher, and I learned to love the Psalms, which are songs of praise and thanksgiving to God. When I was eleven, the choirmistress went to Zululand, South Africa, as a missionary. Her example helped me become interested in missionary work at an early age.
“After I joined the Lord’s true Church, He called me as a district missionary, then as a stake missionary, and later as a mission president. Now, as a General Authority, I will always be a missionary. A Seventy is a special witness of Jesus Christ to all the world.
“I am sure that you Primary children know many missionaries, some perhaps in your own family. They are examples for you to follow; Jesus wants all of us to be missionaries. One of my favorite scriptures is in Matthew, when Jesus was instructing His apostles just before He ascended into heaven: ‘Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost’ (Matt. 28:19). He is saying the same to us today through His prophet, President Benson. Boys and girls, start preparing for your missions now—by study, by prayer, and by helping others.
“I have seen many examples of faith and courage among young missionaries in the Church. Ian Menzies, a missionary in Scotland, said, ‘I must finish my mission,’ even though he had a tumor on his brain. Through faith and determination and priesthood administration, he accomplished what others said was impossible. Peter Chaya, a missionary in Zimbabwe, Africa, fulfilled his mission on crutches. He had lost the use of both legs through polio when he was a child. Pip Lees served as a stake missionary in England. Her companion pushed her door to door in a wheelchair for two years.
“During December 1987, I had some Church assignments in Bolivia, a beautiful South American country where the Church is growing rapidly but where the people have very little. The Regional Representative, Elder Philip Kradolfer, accompanied me, and he brought a large suitcase full of toys. Just before Christmas each year, his children give up some of their toys to help the children living in the Altiplano, or high plateau region, of Bolivia. It was wonderful to see the children’s faces as they received a doll, a game, a book, or a purse. Jesus taught that it is better to give than to receive, and I am sure that you have felt the same happiness when you have been a secret helper.
“While serving in South America last year,” Elder Cuthbert recalled, “I met many people who had little to eat and hardly a roof over their heads. Many are hearing the gospel and are being baptized. The children are attending Primary and are preparing for missions, just like you.
“In your prayers, would you remember these boys and girls who have a very hard life? As you prayerfully express thanks for the blessings that you enjoy, fill yourself up with gratitude and let it overflow into service. As you help other children, you will not want so much for yourselves.”

At Christmas time we often hear people talk about already being in the Christmas spirit or not yet. The prospect of a white Christmas, a visit to a Christmas market and preparing presents or that special Christmas feast are popular ways to summon that legendary festive cheer.
Unfortunately, the actual meaning of Christmas is often lost along the way. I was able to learn this lesson very intensively on my mission. In December 1997 my companion and I were transferred to a small town in Wales and settled in together. There was a very small, loving ward there. We enjoyed our time there and worked hard, hoping to tell people about Christ. During the second half of December we noticed how all the companionships, in a virtually competitive atmosphere, reported where and how often members invited them for dinner. It almost seemed like a sport, cramming as many Christmas dinners as possible into the two Christmas holidays. Many of the more experienced missionaries spoke about how delicious the traditional Christmas dinner was and could hardly wait for that special day to arrive. Amidst all this gladness, my companion and I realised that we had not even received a single invitation yet. Something was wrong. But we did not want to impose ourselves either and kept hoping that someone might yet invite us for dinner. Nothing happened, while Christmas was approaching fast. Just before Christmas we held a zone conference, where all the missionaries serving in Wales came together. A wonderful spirit permeated that conference. But what mattered much more to us missionaries were our packages from home that were given to us. Giddily, my companion and I returned to our flat. Defying all my parents’ rules and admonitions on the package, I opened it that same night. It contained a few small presents, a letter from my parents and Christmas sweets. I was delighted! It was a great evening, with both of us enjoying the goodies received from home. With the small caveat that it was not actually Christmas yet.
Sadly, we had not received any dinner invitation by the 24th of December. To make matters worse, the 24th happened to be a preparation day and we had planned to play football (soccer) with all the other missionaries, after which everyone would go straight to their respective dinner appointments. We were very disappointed to learn that the other elders had forgotten to give us a ride to the event. My companion and I walked the streets of our town in the rain, just to kill time. We were anything but in the Christmas mood.
Tired and disappointed, we returned home in the evening to prepare a meal. I remember vividly stepping into our flat, the heating broken yet again and the Christmas packages from our families long unpacked and consumed. Gloomily, I stood in our living room, feeling very lonely and unhappy indeed. All I could do was turn on some Christmas music. So I did. Handel’s Messiah was on and my gaze wandered to a picture of our Saviour and older brother, Jesus Christ. A picture as it can be seen in thousands of missionary flats: taped to the wall crooked, without a frame. And all of a sudden, it was Christmas! I knew why I was here. I knew what we were celebrating and what really mattered.
I have celebrated many wonderful Christmases in my life and beautiful memories abound. That Christmas in Wales in 1997, however, has probably been my most intense Christmas yet. The real gift I received that Christmas was a more intense love for my Saviour and friend, Jesus Christ.

I grew up in an environment where many men smoked, drank, and lived unchaste lives. I saw this kind of example in my own family and in most of the men in the vicinity, so I came to believe it was normal. At the early age of 20, I got married. Four years later, after we had three children, we divorced. But I later met a wonderful woman, who not only accepted me with three children but gave us five more. We have been married for more than 30 years.

Last July I visited the Church’s Polynesian Cultural Center in Hawaii. Before the evening show of dancing and music from various island cultures, I went backstage to thank the performers. I arrived during those frantic moments before the show began. Scores of performers were hurrying through the last-minute tasks required to coordinate their efforts in a fast-moving performance. I wondered how the director would bring this turmoil to order in preparation for my brief remarks.

It happened as if by miracle. On signal, one strong voice began, and the strains of “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet” quickly swelled into a beautiful chorus as the uniquely talented young people brought their thoughts into harmony with the Lord.

We had a similar experience in our family. Last spring some of our children and fourteen of our grandchildren had a family outing in the mountains. One of our activities was a meeting to share experiences and testimonies. We gathered at the appointed time, but the little people were only gathered in body. The large spirits in those little bodies were clamoring for more of the exciting outdoor activities they had been enjoying. The cabin where we met was too small to contain them, and it seemed as if a dozen restless children and their outcries were ricocheting off the walls in every direction. Grandparents will appreciate the apprehension I felt at trying to sponsor something serious in that setting.

Suddenly the instinctive wisdom of young mothers rescued our efforts. Two mothers began to sing a song familiar to the children. Others joined in, and within a few minutes the mood had changed and all spirits were subdued and receptive to spiritual things. I offered a silent prayer of thanks for hymns and for mothers who know how to use them!

Another missionary couple was called and assigned to a branch in the United States that was so inactive that it was about to be disbanded. The Church had a very poor image in the area.

The elder was a member of the Lions Club (a civic service organization) in his hometown, had served as a city administrator, and was an expert gardener. So he and his wife got acquainted with the local Lions Club, and the elder was invited to speak at one of their regular meetings. He talked about who they were and why they were there, and he also mentioned their need for a building in which the branch members could meet.

After the meeting, those present introduced themselves and offered to help in any way they could. One of them featured the missionaries in his newspaper which had 15,000 subscribers. They were also invited to participate in a television interview and were able to answer many questions about the Church and about genealogy.

Because the elder was an expert gardener, he used that skill to help him activate inactive members and to interest nonmembers in the gospel message. He obtained the use of a couple of acres of ground, prepared it for planting, and then invited people to come and participate. Everyone who joined in was assigned a piece of land, and he showed them how to raise a garden. They all had a good harvest and said it was one of the best gardens they had ever seen in that area. Many doors were opened to the missionaries. Today that branch is thriving, and the members are well on their way to having their own meetinghouse.

Brother Michael Kagle took a convoy of trucks loaded with equipment from his own company to Mississippi. Many employees, who are not of our faith, volunteered to go with him every weekend to give assistance in the storm-stricken areas. Walkie-talkies were used for communication along the way. Mike’s high priests group leader, while driving along with them in his pickup truck, said he had white knuckles from driving so fast. Trying to slow the convoy down, he got on the walkie-talkie and said, “Gentlemen, do you realize we are going 80 miles per hour?” One of the truck drivers came on and said, “Well, you have to understand that’s all these big trucks will do. We can’t go any faster.”

Hundreds of letters of gratitude have been received. One woman, a nurse from Mississippi, wrote: “I was speechless. Had God answered my prayers so quickly? Tears immediately began to roll down my cheeks as men in hard hats and boots, with chain saws of all shapes and sizes, appeared out of the debris. It was absolutely, unequivocally, one of the most supreme sacrifices that has ever happened to me personally.”

Several years ago I went on a bicycle trip in France with my sister, sister-in-law, and her daughter. Each morning we were given three pages of detailed instructions that, if followed exactly, would guide us to our destination of the day. While we were cycling through vineyards, the directives might instruct us to “go 165 feet (50 m) north, then turn left and go 330 feet (100 m).” More often, the instructions gave signs and street names.
One morning we cycled down an attractive road but soon realized that our instructions no longer fit the territory. Rapidly becoming lost, we decided to return to where we last knew we were on the right track to see if we could sort out where to go.
Sure enough, when we got there, we found a small road sign, noted in our instructions, that we had failed to see. Soon we were on our way again, matching our progress with the instructions, which again were making perfect sense.
The experience served as a metaphor that answered a puzzling question I’d had: Why, when someone has had a testimony of the gospel, would he or she ever fall away? It became clear to me that when we take a wrong turn (sin) or fail to follow God’s commandments, the instructions (the word of God) no longer make sense. The map, as it were, no longer fits the territory we’re in. If we haven’t strayed too far, we may recognize that the fault is ours and that we need to return (repent) or recommit to live as God has commanded to where we knew we were following the route correctly.

Out of personal experience, I know the efficacy and power of prayer. When I was a young missionary in Northern England in 1922, the opposition to the Church became very intense. The opposition became so strong that the mission president asked that we discontinue all street meetings, and in some cases tracting was discontinued.

My companion and I had been invited to travel over to South Shields to speak in the sacrament meeting. In the invitation they said, “We feel sure we can fill the little chapel. Many of the people over here do not believe the falsehoods printed about us. If you’ll come, we’re sure that we’ll have a great meeting.” We accepted.

We fasted and prayed sincerely and went to the meeting. My companion had planned to talk on the first principles. I had studied much in preparation for a talk on the apostasy. There was a wonderful spirit in the meeting. My companion spoke first and gave an inspirational message. I responded and talked with a freedom I had never experienced before in my life. When I sat down, I then realized that I had not mentioned the apostasy. I had talked on the Prophet Joseph Smith and borne my witness of his divine mission and to the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. After the meeting had ended, several people came forward, some of them being nonmembers, and said, “Tonight we received a witness that the gospel is true as you elders teach it. We are now ready for baptism.”

This was an answer to our fasting and prayers, for we prayed to say only those things which would touch the hearts of the friends and investigators.

This advice has been true for Susan and me. The friends we made in college are among the fondest, dearest gifts of our BYU education. Susan was particularly good—and intentional—about cultivating friendships when she was a student.

When I started college, I did not know anyone. I was a little scared and lonely. So I set a goal to sit by new people for each meal and learn their names and something about them. I did this day after day until I knew every person in my group. I became friends with them. And they are dear friends still.

It also helped her dating I must say. Sister Tanner learned the ageless truth that to make friends you must be a friend. Or as Proverbs puts it: “A man that hath friends must show himself friendly…” [2] Likewise, Jesus taught that to find our life we must lose our lives. [3] As you forget yourself and reach out to others, you will find new friends and a much richer life here.