Gospel Story Finder

Not all things are possible in all seasons. During a temple recommend interview, a mother of two small children told her stake president of her desire to attend the temple more often. But time demands, distance, and expense had prevented her from attending as often as she desired. The stake president told her, “Maria, I know you love the temple and look forward to a time when you can go often. For now, go when you can, but remember that you serve in many other important ways. The time will come when you can attend as often as you wish.”

Our stake held a missionary-themed youth activity. The stake center was set up like a mini Missionary Training Center. We were trained, and then we went out to help the missionaries share the gospel with people in Chimaltenango.
Some people received us well, but others got upset, lied about their phone number and address, or hid. Sometimes we got discouraged, but then we met people who did want to hear and who were maybe even touched by our message. Even if I didn’t change their lives, my testimony grew.

A tiny parade of electronic ants ran across the screen on Rylee’s tablet. Rylee smiled and started to count them quickly. Seven, eight, nine … This was one of her favorite math games!
“I thought you were coloring your bug book,” Mom said as she came in the room.
Rylee looked up. “Oh. Yes, I was. But I got bored, so I started playing games instead.”
“Have you been playing on the tablet this whole time?” Mom asked with a little smile.
Rylee checked the clock. It was a lot later than she’d thought! “Um, I guess so. But it’s helping me learn math.”
“Doing math is good for your brain,” Mom said. “But too much screen time isn’t good for your brain. Or for the rest of your body. Your body needs lots of other things.”
Rylee paused. “You mean, like good food?”
Mom nodded. “Yes! But that’s just a start. Why don’t we go on a walk? Maybe you can even see some real ants.”
“OK!” Rylee put on her shoes. Mom and Rylee’s little sister, Harper, were waiting for her by the door.
“Ready for an adventure?” Mom asked.
“Yeah!”
They walked to the park nearby. The sun was bright, and the leaves on the trees rustled in the wind. “Hey, look!” Rylee pointed to a line of ants marching across the sidewalk. “You were right, Mom.”
“How many do you see?” Mom asked.
Rylee tried to keep count, but there were too many. She ran ahead and picked up a speckled rock. “It’s like a ladybug. Look at all the spots!”
She slipped the rock into her pocket. “Let’s pretend to be scientists,” she told Harper. “We could show each other our discoveries!”
Together she and Harper found another cool rock, a pine cone, and an acorn. They saw some butterflies too.
“This is even more fun than my game!” Rylee said.
“Isn’t it nice to be outside?” Mom asked. “And do you know the best part? It’s really good for your brain.”
Rylee tilted her head. “But I thought you had to study stuff to make your brain stronger.”
“That’s one way. But other things help it grow too. Like kicking the soccer ball with our family. Or talking with friends. Or spending time outside, like now. We need to grow and develop in all sorts of ways, like Jesus did.”
The time zipped by as Rylee, Mom, and Harper explored the park. By the time they got home, Rylee’s pockets were full of treasures from their walk. She lined them up on the floor to count them. Seven, eight, nine …
She smiled. She was glad there were so many fun ways to grow and take good care of her body.

On the surface, life for Axel V., 18, seems pretty perfect. “My whole family are members of the Church,” he says. “We like to do a lot of things together, like play baseball and serve. It is a marvelous thing. I am so thankful to have been born in the gospel.”

But when you look a little deeper, Axel says, “We all have difficult times. My parents are converts, but there was a time when my dad wasn’t active in the Church. I told him that I wanted him to come back, but he didn’t.

“Then back in 2013, my dad attended Primary where my sister was conducting. It was very inspiring, and because of those testimonies of those children, my dad came back to the Church.”

Even though they’ve been active ever since, “We have not been sealed yet as a family.” That’s hard for Axel, because, as he says, “The family is essential to the plan that the Savior has for each one of us. My parents made a goal for us to attend the temple as a family to be sealed for this life and the eternities. We would be very blessed to attend the temple together.”

At school, all of my friends were causing drama. They were fighting with each other, lying, and backstabbing. They tried to make everyone choose sides. There was a lot of conflict. I became very confused, so I turned to God by praying and fasting. I came to the conclusion that I needed different friends—friends who wouldn’t put me in difficult situations. But I was so afraid. I didn’t know how I could get new friends. But the more I thought about it, the more confident I felt that I could find new friends and move on.

I received answers in different ways. My family gave me advice. I also tried hanging out with new people and realized that I felt different with them. Since then I’ve been happier and more joyful. I’ve discovered more friends who help me feel great. I believe that when we follow God’s will, we can receive greater blessings and do greater things. Everything will work out in His plan.
Mekeli H., Colorado, USA

Not long ago I learned of the passing of James Womack, the patriarch of the Shreveport Louisiana Stake. He had served long and had blessed ever so many lives. Years before, President Spencer W. Kimball shared with President Gordon B. Hinckley, Elder Bruce R. McConkie, and me an experience he had in the appointment of a patriarch for the Shreveport Louisiana Stake of the Church. President Kimball described how he interviewed, how he searched, and how he prayed that he might learn the Lord’s will concerning the selection. For some reason, none of the suggested candidates was the man for this assignment at this particular time.
The day wore on; the evening meetings began. Suddenly President Kimball turned to the stake president and asked him to identify a particular man seated perhaps two-thirds of the way back from the front of the chapel. The stake president replied that the individual was James Womack, whereupon President Kimball said: “He is the man the Lord has selected to be your stake patriarch. Please have him meet with me in the high council room following the meeting.”
Stake president Charles Cagle was startled, for James Womack did not wear the label of a typical man. He had sustained terrible injuries while in combat during World War II. He lost both hands and part of an arm, as well as most of his eyesight and part of his hearing. Nobody had wanted to let him into law school when he returned, yet he finished third in his class at Louisiana State University.
That evening as President Kimball met with Brother Womack and informed him that the Lord had designated him to be the patriarch, there was a protracted silence in the room. Then Brother Womack said: “Brother Kimball, it is my understanding that a patriarch is to place his hands on the head of the person he blesses. As you can see, I have no hands to place on the head of anyone.”
Brother Kimball, in his kind and patient manner, invited Brother Womack to stand behind the chair on which Brother Kimball was seated. He then said, “Now, Brother Womack, lean forward and see if the stumps of your arms will reach the top of my head.” To Brother Womack’s joy, they touched Brother Kimball’s head, and the exclamation came forth, “I can reach you! I can reach you!”
“Of course you can reach me,” responded Brother Kimball. “And if you can reach me, you can reach any whom you bless. I will probably be the shortest person you will ever have seated before you.”
President Kimball reported to us that when the name of James Womack was presented to the stake conference, “the hands of the members shot heavenward in an enthusiastic vote of approval.”
Remembered were the words of the Lord to the prophet Samuel at the time David was designated to be a future king of Israel: “Man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.”

Brother William and Sister Johanna Buckley are converts to the Church and live on the island of Aruba. Years ago, when they were investigating the Church, they became friends with Sister Ana St. Cyr and her four-year-old grandson, Ralph, who attended the Oranjestad, Aruba branch. These two were the only members of the Church in their family and the only Haitian members of the branch. As the Buckleys integrated into the branch they found special joy in watching young Ralph’s testimony and spirituality develop.
In John 4:13–14, Jesus says to the Samarian woman at the well, “Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again:
“But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life.”
It was apparent that Sister St. Cyr and little Ralph had allowed those everlasting waters to spring up within them.
Like the Samarian women who went off to share the good news, Ralph did the same. In 2018, Ralph Desir was called to serve in the Vanuatu Port Vila Mission where he had the opportunity to share the everlasting waters of the Savior, Jesus Christ. He was blessed with many companions from diverse cultures, lived in eight different places, and learned Bislama, the native language of Vanuatu, which helped him to effectively create relationships with the people.
Elder Desir was blessed to see the gospel of Jesus Christ strengthen the people he taught as they overcame the challenges in their lives. Upon completion of his mission, he testifies of the truthfulness of the power of everlasting waters and knows how to allow those waters to continue to bless his own life and the lives of others.
Brother Desir testifies that “serving a mission was the best decision that I have made in my life. I have learned to be like the Savior and teach the gospel by example in all things. I love the gospel with all my heart, and I wouldn’t exchange my mission experiences for anything. One of the reasons I served a mission was because I knew how much it would bless my family and how much joy it would bring to my own life.”
Since returning from his mission, Brother Desir has served as first counselor in the San Nicolas Branch presidency, Aruba, and as a delegation leader for the Aruba, Bonaire, Curacao District that attended the youth conference in the Dominican Republic in 2022. He is now serving as branch secretary. He uses his proficiency in the Dutch, Spanish, English, Papiamento, and French Creole languages to continue to bless lives in Aruba and elsewhere.
Brother and Sister Buckley have followed Brother Desir’s example and are now serving in the ABC district as church communication directors. They continue to enjoy watching him grow and share the gospel.

One day while I was ironing, one-year-old Claire began to cry in her crib. It was naptime, and I knew that if I could quickly give her a pacifier, she would fall back to sleep. Three-year-old Lucy was playing in the room where I was ironing. I debated for a moment and then decided to keep the iron on, knowing I’d be out of the room for only a few moments. “Lucy, do you see that iron on my tall table?” I asked. “It’s VERY hot. I need to give Claire her pacifier. Please don’t touch the iron while I’m gone, or it will hurt you.”
I was sure Lucy understood, so I quickly slipped out of the room. I returned a moment later, and I heard a whimper from behind a chair.
“Lucy?” I asked. “Where are you?”
She didn’t reply.
“Are you OK? Why are you hiding?”
I walked over behind the chair and sat on the floor. Her face was buried in her hands. After a few refusals to tell me what happened, she finally said, “Mommy, I touched your iron.”
At first I was confused that she hadn’t heeded my warning. Then I felt heartbroken that she would hide from me after making a small mistake, afraid she had lost my love and confidence. I knew she was powerless to take the pain away, and only I could help her burned finger feel better. I comforted Lucy, and as I rushed her to the bathroom sink to ease the pain, the Spirit whispered to my heart: “This is how Heavenly Father feels when His children fail to heed His warnings and won’t allow Him to ease their pain when they need it most.” In that moment I felt such joy at this knowledge and a confidence in the Lord’s willingness to teach me.

You know, every member is a missionary. I think President David O. McKay first emphasized that duty. I was up in Montana some time ago visiting a stake conference. After the morning session, I was wandering around outside. I saw this young boy standing there all dressed up in his Sunday clothes. I went over to him and said, “Son, you’re a fine-looking boy. What’s your name?”
He said, “Joseph Smith Curdy.”
I said, “Joseph Smith Curdy! That’s a fine name. You’re going to be a great missionary.”
He said, “I’m already a great missionary. Down the street a couple of blocks from where we live there’s a family with a couple of boys about my age, and over a period of three or four months, I have been bringing them to church with me. A month or so ago, I said to them, ‘How would you like to have the missionaries give you the discussions?’
“They said, ‘Oh, we’d have to talk to our parents.’
“So we talked to the parents, and the parents said, ‘Well, if you will let us listen in, why we’ll be glad to have the missionaries teach them.’”
There wasn’t any problem with that, so the missionaries gave the family the discussions. Joseph Smith Curdy told me, “That whole family is going to be baptized next Saturday. I’m already a great missionary.”
I couldn’t help but agree with him.

The restored gospel was not preached again in Bulgaria for 90 years. As the Communist era ended, then-Elder Russell M. Nelson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles traveled to Sofia with other Church leaders. In February 1990, during a meeting with government officials, Elder Nelson asked what the Church could do for Bulgaria and was asked to send English teachers.
That fall, six missionaries, most with formal teaching experience, began teaching English classes in Sofia, Pravets, and Smolyan. In Sofia, Elder Morris and Sister Annetta Mower found several members of the Church—baptized elsewhere in Europe—already living in the area. On October 14, 1990, the Mowers began holding weekly Church services in their apartment. Within a month, more than 50 people were cramming into the Mowers’ tiny apartment for the weekly meetings. 5 When the first proselytizing missionaries arrived in November, six people were awaiting baptism. 6 As interest in the Church grew, the need for a mission headquartered in Bulgaria was soon clear.
One morning in April 1991, Kiril and Nevenka Kiriakov were at their home in Virginia when the telephone rang. Nevenka immediately recognized the familiar voice: “May I speak with Brother Kiriakov?” then-Elder Thomas S. Monson asked. 7
“Certainly,” she responded. Before she could hand the phone to Kiril, however, Elder Monson continued, “How would you feel if your husband were called as the first mission president in Bulgaria?” 8
Kiril and Nevenka had fled Bulgaria in 1963 with their children, Julia and Peter, and joined the Church in France before settling in the United States. Although Communist authorities had threatened Kiril with death and his family with life imprisonment if they ever returned, Kiril had been promised in a blessing that he would preach the gospel in Bulgaria. With a new government in place, they felt safe to return. Despite Kiril’s significant health concerns, he and Nevenka courageously accepted a call to serve. 9 “I was anxious to see all my relatives and friends,” Nevenka said, “and share with them the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.” 10
As Kiril and Nevenka prepared to return to their homeland, the first missionaries who would serve under their leadership were arriving at the missionary training center in Provo, Utah, USA. The language teacher who greeted them on their first day was Julia Kiriakov Caswell, Kiril and Nevenka’s daughter. 11
In July 1991, the Bulgaria Sofia Mission officially opened. Through the faith, perseverance, and efforts of the local members and the missionaries, the Church soon received official recognition. 12 By the end of 1991, more than 150 Bulgarian Saints had been baptized. 13
Decades before the opportunity to preach the gospel in Bulgaria would become a reality, the Lord started making preparations. Despite the Church’s long absence in the country and early difficulties, the faith and diligence of those whom the Lord prepared opened the door for many others to receive the restored gospel.

On the morning of the last day of school before the Christmas holidays, I had the strangest thought pop into my head. I was tying bows around bunches of gourmet candy canes to give to my friends when my mind said, “You should give one of these to Megan*.”
What a crazy idea! Megan, a very popular girl in my English class, was terribly mean. In addition to the rude things she said to me, she and her friends were always giggling and pointing in my direction. She made me feel horrible. Why should I give Christmas candy to someone like that?
Today was always the best day of the whole year at Valley Middle School. Like the last day of school in June, schoolwork would be pushed aside in favor of movies and games. But what made it even better than that was the candy we exchanged with our friends. As we went from class to class, our stacks of goodies grew and we found out who liked us enough to put us on their gift list. You could tell who the really popular kids were by their enormous piles of candy. Someone like Megan would have to bring an extra bag to carry everything. She certainly didn’t need anything from me.
I was confident I would have a respectable pile of sweets myself. I was nowhere near being part of the popular crowd, but it was a big school, and I had a large group of friends. However, because I was one of the few Latter-day Saints in the school, I really stood out. Anyone who stands out too much in middle school becomes a target for teasing, so, unfortunately, I had as many tormentors as I had friends.
It is sometimes really tough to know how to deal with people who pick on you. I had long ago decided that the best way was just to ignore them. But sometimes this just didn’t seem to work. Earlier that school year, two girls in my science class had hurt me so much with their cruel words that I finally burst and fired similar cruel words right back at them. This landed me in detention, and I spent a miserable afternoon picking up trash. Worse than the actual punishment was how horrible I felt inside. I knew my actions weren’t Christlike, and that hurt me more than anyone’s awful words ever could. After that, I stuck like glue to my old policy of keeping silent and expressionless, hoping people would get bored with me. But Megan still hadn’t given up trying to have fun at my expense, and I had been wondering recently if there were something more I could do besides just turning the other cheek.
Looking down at the candy canes in my backpack, I realized that the Spirit had just given me a solution to my dilemma. I thought of Matthew 5:44, in the Sermon on the Mount, where Christ says, “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you.”
“Well,” I thought, “it’s worth a try.” Even though the thought of doing such an unusual thing scared me, I told myself it couldn’t make the situation any worse.
I almost chickened out. It was the very end of the class period before I had the guts to approach Megan. When I called her name, she turned and looked very surprised that I was speaking to her.
“Here, this is for you.” I held out the candy.
She looked at me very suspiciously. I could tell she was trying to figure out what the trick was. I knew she thought I was trying to do something mean because she knew she’d never done anything nice to me. So I smiled and said, “Merry Christmas,” hoping she would trust me just a little bit.
She took the candy. When I turned to walk away, and it was clear that there were no strings attached, she said, “Thank you.”
I wish I could say Megan and I became friends after that. We didn’t. But she left me alone the rest of the school year, and her eyes lost that hard, malicious glint when she looked at me.
I like to hope I gave her more than just candy that Christmas. I hope that’s what happened, but maybe it didn’t. Maybe she never thought about it again. But I was changed for life after that simple exchange. I was filled with the joy of having done what Jesus would have done. The gift I gave her paled in comparison to the gift I received—a taste of charity, the pure love of Christ, a feeling sweeter than all the Christmas candy in the school.

Interviewing the grandparents about their lives, writing the scripts, finding costumes, and then having rehearsals to make sure everything was just right took a lot of time. But the youth said the time spent was worth it when they saw everything and everyone come together on the night of the activity.
“Sometimes I didn’t really feel like it was worth all the time it took to put this activity together. But then when I saw the final night and the looks on the faces of the elderly as they watched incidents from their lives acted out before them and as they realized that the youth in the ward care about who they are, it all seemed worth it,” Cassie says. “It also made me want to live my life in a way so that if someone were to write a play about me when I am old I wouldn’t be embarrassed by it.”

Before the prayer was offered, Sister Yvonne Nelson, a pioneer member of the Church in Barbados, spoke briefly about her encounter with missionaries in 1979 and her journey of testimony and baptism. Sister Nelson said she was first contacted by missionaries in 1979.
“They started to give me some lessons,” she said. “They gave me a Book of Mormon and told me I should read, but before I read, I should pray and ask Heavenly Father if it was true.”
Active in her own Christian faith, Sister Nelson would attend LDS services after attending her own church. Over time, she said she gained gospel knowledge about the premortal existence, the purpose of mortality, and life after death.
“What I didn’t understand, the missionaries would make clear to me,” she said.
She was baptized on February 3, 1980.
Joining the Church was “the best decision I ever made,” she said. “It helped me to get closer to Heavenly Father.”
She added, “Living a righteous life is not easy. There are ups and downs and temptations, but with Heavenly Father’s help, we can overcome them. We have to keep our covenants and do everything possible to do what Heavenly Father would want us to do. Sometimes we might not want to forgive our enemies, but we have to try to love everyone.”

While I was on my mission, I traveled for a few days with Elder Spencer W. Kimball, then of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. I was his temporary driver and companion. It was the first time I had been so close to an Apostle of the Lord. I heard him pray and testify. I saw what he focused on, what he talked about, and what he was like when he was not in public. I saw how he treated other people and how thoughtful he was of their needs. I decided that this was the kind of man I wanted to become.

I am reminded of a little village called Panacaxtlán, situated where the coastal plains meet the mountains of central Mexico, just a few kilometers off the Vía Corta (the short route) between Mexico City and Tampico, Tamaulipas. The village is situated in a lush, green, humid area known as the Huasteca, and the inhabitants are sons and daughters of Lehi. In 1979, while I was serving as president in the Mexico Mexico City North Mission, missionaries began proselyting in the Huasteca. Fifty-two people joined the Church in Panacaxtlán, along with about 400 others in nearby communities that formed the new Tempoal Mexico District.
A short time later, a meeting was called in Panacaxtlán at which Church members were given the following options: denounce the Church, leave the village, or be killed (not an idle threat).
The members, particularly the women, said they knew the Church to be true and would not denounce it. They also indicated they had worked just as hard as the rest of the community to secure their homesteads, and they would not leave. Boldly stepping forward, they told their taunters if they were going to kill them, to get on with it. The moment grew tense as machetes were raised, then finally lowered while the Latter-day Saints stood up for that which the Spirit had testified to them to be true.
These Saints eventually learned, as most of us do, that it is harder to live the gospel day by day than to die for it in an instant, but their early commitment came because the Spirit had touched their hearts and changed their lives. Their conversion had taken place as the Book of Mormon helped build their faith in Jesus Christ, the Son of God. They learned that Christ had visited their ancestors in the Americas after His Resurrection, and they were grateful for the blessings available to all our Father’s children because Heavenly Father had sent His Son. Like the Saints of New Testament times, those members in Panacaxtlán had developed faith sufficient to withstand the persecutions of people whose minds were closed.

My wonderful father was an All-America basketball player for UCLA under legendary Coach John Wooden. They remained close throughout my father’s life, and occasionally Coach and Mrs. Wooden would come to our home for dinner. He was always happy to talk to me about basketball or anything else on my mind. Once I asked him what advice he had for me as I entered my senior year of high school. Always the teacher, he said, “Your father told me that you have joined the Church of Jesus Christ, so I know that you have faith in the Lord. With that faith be sure to have poise in every situation. Be a good man in a storm.”

Over the years, that conversation stuck with me. That counsel to be calm, cool, and collected in all situations, particularly in times of adversity and pressure, resonated with me. I could see how Coach Wooden’s teams played with poise and the great success that they experienced winning 10 national championships.

There were two young boys returning home late one afternoon. It was getting dark, and they should have been home earlier. Knowing they were in trouble, they decided to save a little time and take a shortcut by going through a pasture. The boys were well aware they were not to go into the pasture. The property was posted with “no trespassing” signs because of the presence of a large, mean bull. It was getting dark, and since the bull was in an area of the pasture where he couldn’t see the boys, they decided to attempt the shortcut. After they had crawled under the fence, and were about halfway across the pasture—at the point of no return—the bull spotted them and charged in their direction. The boys began running, but one of them stopped and said, “Wait, let’s kneel down and pray for help.” The other boy said, “If you want to stop and kneel down and pray, you do it, but I’m going to run and pray.” I don’t want to dwell on the “stop-and-kneel-down-and-pray” faith; I want to discuss the “run-and-pray” faith. I’ve always believed in that kind of faith. In James we read: “Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone” (James 2:17). President Harold B. Lee once said, “If you want the blessing, don’t just kneel down and pray about it. Prepare yourselves in every conceivable way you can in order to make yourselves worthy to receive the blessing you seek.” Sometimes we tend to believe that if we have enough faith, anything can happen without our really putting forth much effort, without doing all that is possible, or without “running as hard as we can and praying on the run.” The Lord expects us to do all in our power as we exercise our faith.

I remember other Mexican Saints who, because floods had destroyed their crops, were fearful that they would not be able to attend the conference but who, after fasting and prayer, sold some of their belongings and pooled their money for transportation. For many there was no money left for food, but it did not matter. They decided they could fast for the three or four days of the conference. As you would expect, other loving Saints filled their plates as the Lord had filled their souls.

By noon, the Columbia Ward was headed back from Nashville. But instead of going straight home, they took a detour to Lawrenceburg. The youth there wanted to return the favor of being invited to the hayride, so they had invited Columbia to a late afternoon picnic. While everyone was gathering at the chapel, the Lawrenceburg youth shared some of their thoughts about being a Latter-day Saint in Tennessee.

Paula McGuire, 15, talked about the closeness she feels in her ward and between the two wards.

“I love to be with the youth of the Church,” she said. “Other kids at school see us and think we’re strange to be so close. But in the Church you do seem closer. We really are like brothers and sisters.”

Regina Luker, 16, the Laurel president, told about her efforts to tell an atheist friend about the gospel. “It’s hard to get her to believe in the Lord,” she said. “But I obey the commandments, and I try to be a good example. We need to show we can be trusted.”

And Paul McDow spoke again, this time about teaching a lesson about the Church in his history class at school, about reading the scriptures, about saving money for a mission, and about living in the hills of Tennessee.

“I love it,” he said. “I couldn’t live anywhere else. The only thing that would make it better would be if there were more Church members.”

The youth from Lawrenceburg took the youth from Columbia on a quick tour of their town, then over to Davy Crockett State Park, where they ate fruit, sandwiches, and cookies. There was a short program, featuring Paul dressed up like a frog, “Davy Croak-it”; and by the time the sun set, the two groups went their separate ways, promising to get together again soon.

About 15 miles north of Elko, Nevada, is a stretch of highway dotted with signs warning motorists not to pick up hitchhikers because of a prison facility nearby. To four college students traveling from Provo, Utah, to San Francisco, these signs were a bit unsettling. My roommates and I were certainly glad to cruise by them on our way to California’s Bay Area for Thanksgiving weekend. We didn’t think twice about the signs until four days later on our way back to Provo. It was then that our car suddenly stopped precisely 10 yards north of one of those ominous blue signs.
Our first instincts were to flag down another car and ask for a ride back to Elko. But images of escaped convicts kept us locked inside the car. It was four in the afternoon, it was snowing, and it would definitely be dark and very cold within the hour. We needed help fast but were too afraid to even get out of the car. We offered a short prayer, and 30 minutes later a man driving a snowplow stopped and radioed the police for us. A young officer piled us into his car, called a tow truck, and dropped us off at a motel in Elko.
We soon got over our fears and realized how blessed we were to get off the highway unharmed and be in a safe, warm motel room. Our only problem now was getting back to Provo. Each of us dialed home collect, expecting that our parents would wire money for bus tickets or a rental car. We were surprised when each set of parents immediately offered to drive to Elko and get us.
Even for the closest set of parents, this meant a three-hour drive to Elko and a four-hour drive back to Provo. It meant disrupting work schedules and finding baby-sitters for the other children. Eventually we decided that it would be best for Jenni’s mom and grandpa to drive down to get us. Relieved, we went to bed and expected to see Jenni’s mom by noon the next day.
Things didn’t go quite as planned. Overnight the snow storm had worsened, and the roads were terrible. Despite leaving Salt Lake City at 10:00 A.M., Jenni’s mom didn’t get to us until four that afternoon. The roads back were equally icy, and a typically four-hour drive took six hours. Still, Jenni’s mom and grandpa never uttered a word of complaint during the entire drive home. They were only happy to help and grateful that we would be home soon.
Unfortunately, our earthly parents are not always at the other end of the line when we call. Many parents cannot or will not answer their children’s cries. As I rode home from Elko in the safe confines of a warm van, I realized just how much my parents love me. Even more, I knew that my Heavenly Father would always help me. He does so without complaint, for He is happy just to know that I am on my way home and will soon be safe in His arms.