Gospel Story Finder

I was born to A Latter-day Saint Family and baptized at age eight; I faithfully attended church and seminary. But although the gospel had always been a part of my life, I wasn’t truly converted.
As a seminary student, I had developed good habits of scripture study that served me well for several years. But I could never bring myself to get really serious about prayer. In my youth I had made many mistakes, which made praying seem painful and hard.
I went off to college, and when I was 21, my father died unexpectedly in an accident. In my bitterness, I stopped reading the scriptures.
Years passed. I married in the temple and bore three children while my husband struggled through law school. Because I was without the sustenance of scripture study and deep, sincere prayer, the trials and frustrations of this period left me open to the adversary. My feelings became tainted with anger and a sense of failure.
Then my husband graduated and found a job that took us to another state. I had lived in many parts of the United States, but this move left me feeling terribly out of place. Our new ward was in a fairly wealthy area. My husband and I had a lot of school debt and very few possessions. We drove an old car, our clothes were outdated, and our furniture was secondhand and mismatched. The disparity was painfully obvious to me.
It wasn’t that I coveted what others had. I simply couldn’t imagine that they could see me as a worthwhile person when I had so little.
As the months passed, I had great difficulty making friends in the ward. I had been fairly comfortable in our wards in college, but now I felt intimidated and isolated from the friends and family who valued me.
A very long year and a half passed. I felt more insecure and unaccepted than I had felt since being a teenager in junior high school. I gave up even trying to fit in.
Then a ward member named Julie, a sister whom I greatly admired, began reaching out to me. She was 10 years older than I, a woman of great faith, and respected by everyone. I couldn’t believe she really wanted to get to know me, but I was lonely enough to accept her invitation to go jogging with her and some of her friends each morning at a nearby track.
Every day, Julie arrived having just finished morning prayer and scripture study. She was always filled with enthusiasm about the gospel, the scriptures, and the insights that came to her as she read. Running with her was like going to a devotional or a seminary class. And she seemed genuinely interested in me; she listened without judgment to my frustrations and fears.
I found Julie’s enthusiasm irresistible. Following her example, I became dedicated to a program of regular, serious scripture study for the first time in seven years.
I began to feel the Spirit in my life on a daily basis, and I found that I was able to follow the Spirit in fulfilling my calling as a Beehive adviser. I also realized that even though I’d been physically present in the programs and meetings, I had been spiritually inactive for many years.
Then one day, I walked into church a little late. Julie was leading the music, as she did every week. I looked up at her face. Her smile was wonderful, radiant, somehow filled with light. She looked directly at me, and I was overcome with an overpowering sensation of warmth and peace and joy. I was surprised. I knew I was feeling the Spirit very strongly, but I didn’t understand what the feeling meant.
I pondered throughout Sunday School and sacrament meeting, all the time cherishing this feeling of great peace and joy. By the end of the meeting, I understood the reason for this witness. I realized that Julie, being filled with the Spirit, actively sought to convey the love of the Savior to the congregation by the light of her countenance (see Alma 5:14, 19).
And then, into my mind came the whispered words that changed my life: “You must learn to be like that.” I was stunned. Suddenly my perspective shifted. I was to learn to smile like that and to convey the love and kindness to others that Julie had extended to me. For the first time, I understood that if I had the love of Christ in my countenance, no one would care what my clothes looked like, or my car, or my house.
My life was very different after that. The next month I walked into homemaking meeting, where I had always felt hopelessly out of place; I looked around at the room full of faces as if for the first time. It seemed that everyone there was either my friend already or needed a friend. I saw no condescension or condemnation in anyone. Nor was I looking for it. I was looking outward for what I could give.
After that, I continued to mature in terms of my motivation and expectations. As I felt more and more of the Spirit in my life, I desired to have the strength and faith to do anything the Lord might ask.
About this time, I attended a fireside where Julie spoke; she talked a lot about prayer. I took her counsel to heart and decided to start praying morning and night with real sincerity. I got up earlier than before, scheduled 15 or 20 minutes just for prayer, and treated it as an appointment with the most important person in my life. I found that I could get answers and guidance in a way I never had before.
I began to study the Atonement intensively. And I studied the doctrine of the change of heart and the meaning of being born again. As I studied, I developed a profound reverence for the Savior, for the power of his atonement, and for its efficacy in saving me from all of my failings and weaknesses.
One day I read Mosiah 5:7–8: “Ye shall be called the children of Christ … ; for ye say that your hearts are changed through faith on his name; therefore, ye are born of him and have become his sons and his daughters.
“And under this head ye are made free, and there is no other head whereby ye can be made free.”
Now I understood the words made free. I was being released from so many personal fears, inadequacies, and negative feelings that it seemed as if tangible shackles were falling from my hands and feet. My posture changed as I began to see myself as a person who had every reason to stand tall. My children asked why I was smiling so much. My husband asked why we didn’t quarrel anymore. My mother and brothers simply asked, “What happened?”
I spent three years in that ward where I had initially felt so uncomfortable. My last 18 months were a wonderful, fulfilling time. Sometimes I faced difficult trials, but I also felt an assurance that the Lord was mindful of me and that the painful experiences were for my growth.
By the time I left that ward, I not only felt loved, I also felt trusted and honored by the members there. I had had many humbling, spiritual experiences as well as opportunities to serve, to speak, and to teach. The ward had become a cherished family.
Julie remains a dear friend. Her gift for radiating light continues to touch my life and the lives of many others. Her example showed me how to reach for the Savior, the source of the light. And this has given me the means to lift and love and comfort many people. I believe that if I continue to progress, someday I, too, will be filled with his love and receive his image in my countenance.

My mind goes back to a day when I was approaching my eighteenth birthday. We were all very fearful. World War II was still being fought, and every young man knew that he had to make a choice. There was not much latitude to the choice: he could choose to go into the army, or he could choose to go into the navy. I enlisted in the navy.

Forty-four of us young men stood there in the recruiting office. I shall never forget the chief petty officers coming up to us and presenting a choice. They said, “Now, you young men must make an important choice. On one hand, you can be wise and choose to join the regular navy. You can enlist for four years. You will receive the finest schooling. You will be given every opportunity because the navy looks upon you as its own. If you choose not to follow this direction, you can go into the naval reserves. The navy does not have much interest in the naval reserves at this stage of the game. You will receive no schooling. You will be sent out to sea duty. No one knows what your future might be.”

Then they asked us to sign on the dotted line. I turned to my father and said, “What should I do, Dad?”

In a voice choked with emotion, he replied, “I don’t know anything about the navy.” That was the position of every father who was there that day.

Forty-two of the forty-four enlisted in the regular navy for four years. The forty-third one could not pass the regular navy physical, so he had to enlist in the reserves.

Then they came to me; and I confess to you that I sent a prayer heavenward, earnestly hoping that the Lord would answer it. And he did. The thought came to me just as clearly as though I had heard a voice, “Ask those chief petty officers which they chose.”

I asked each of those veteran petty officers: “Did you choose the regular navy, or did you choose the reserves?”

Each of them had chosen the reserves.

I turned and said, “With all the wisdom and experience that you have, I want to be on your side.”

I chose the reserves, which meant that I enlisted for the duration of the war, plus six months. The war ended, and within a year I was honorably discharged from the service. I was able to continue my schooling. I had the privilege of serving in many Church capacities. Who knows how the course of my life might have been changed had I not taken that moment to call upon my Heavenly Father for guidance and direction in what might appear to some to have been a minor decision!

I well remember a young couple who started farming in Idaho years ago. They had modest means, but they paid a down payment on 40 acres of raw land. They were going into the raising of fruit—peaches particularly. They had leveled the land, brought out the laterals, planted the trees, and then weeded and irrigated and watched until the time had come when they’d have a harvest. This particular spring the orchard was a sea of blossoms, and it looked as though they were going to have a bounteous harvest. Then one night without warning, there came a frost that wiped out practically the entire crop overnight. Well, young John didn’t go to church the next Sunday, nor the next Sunday, nor the next Sunday. Finally his good old bishop came out to see what was wrong. He found John out in the field, and he said, “John, we haven’t seen you in church for several weeks. What’s the matter? Is anything wrong?” John said, “No, bishop, I’m not coming anymore. Do you think I can worship a God who would let this happen to me?” And then he explained to the bishop what had happened. Of course, the bishop felt sorrowful, too, and he expressed it to John. And as he looked down at the ground for a moment, he said, “John, I’m sure the Lord knows that you can’t produce the best peaches with frost. But I’m also sure he knows that you can’t produce the best men without frost, and the Lord is interested in producing men, not peaches.” Well, John went to church the next Sunday, and another year a harvest came. He later became a bishop in the Church.

Heavenly Father does believe in you. He knows what you’re capable of, and He hasn’t left you unaided as you try to live up to His expectations. He’s called prophets to teach the gospel in every dispensation. Making the principles and ordinances of the gospel of Jesus Christ, such as faith, repentance, and baptism and confirmation, a part of your life will bring you closer to the Lord and help you meet His expectations. As Sister Jean A. Stevens, former first counselor in the Primary general presidency, said, “The gospel ‘is not weight; it is wings.’ It carries us” (“Fear Not; I Am with Thee,” Ensign, May 2014, 83). That’s definitely what it’s done for Daniel Z., 16, and Darrius T., 16.
Life changed dramatically for Daniel when he was baptized. “Before I joined the Church, I wasn’t doing good things in my life. But when I got baptized, I felt the Spirit and knew that this was the right Church. I kept going to church, and that helped me. I stopped doing bad things. I started getting good grades in school. I started to feel more respect for others,” he says. For Daniel, the changes he’s made in his life since his baptism are helping him grow up to be the man he knows the Lord wants him to be.
Darrius chooses to be strong every day. “God expects me to be a good person, a wonderful person. He expects me to do good things and be a leader to others.” It’s not easy to do those things—especially when people around you don’t always make good choices. Darrius stays strong by staying in a good social environment. “I try to be at home with my family or at church with my friends a lot. They help me do good things.”
Like Darrius, we can all choose to be strong every day. Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, “All of us can meet God’s high expectations, however great or small our capacity and talent may be. … It is a diligent, devoted effort on our part that calls for [His] empowering and enabling grace” (“As Many as I Love, I Rebuke and Chasten,” Ensign, May 2011, 100).
Living up to the Lord’s expectations does take “diligent, devoted effort,” but it’s worth it. No matter what the world tells you you’re expected to do or be, remember that you are a child of God and that He wants you to live with Him again.
You can meet God’s expectations for you, because you were sent to this earth to do great things—and because God will help you do them.

Had the time come for baptism?
“Brother Palmer asked me if I would be baptized,” Brandon recalls. “I had already told him yes. Then the missionaries asked, too. I remember that was on August 4. They said, ‘How about September 4?’ I said, ‘That’s the day after the big game. I don’t know if that will work,’” and he called for time out to think it over. It didn’t take long. He thought about what he had learned and the answers he had already received.
“I knew I had to decide,” Brandon said, “And once I made the decision, I knew it was right. I knew I would fulfill my promises to the Lord with all my heart.”

Then I read a story about a pioneer woman. When that woman was a child, the prophet asked her family to help settle a Latter-day Saint community in a remote area. Tragedy befell when one of her siblings died. Her mother was distraught, and deep sadness permeated the family.
One day this little girl was looking out the window. As far as she could see, a blanket of snow surrounded the family’s modest home. As the little girl stared at the horizon, she saw two people trudging toward the house. On they came, slowly making their way, and suddenly the child realized who they were—they were her mother’s visiting teachers.
That story inspired me. I was baptized in May 1983. It is an honor to be a visiting teacher myself. I love associating with so many women who exemplify the “virtuous woman” whose “price is far above rubies” (Proverbs 31:10). It is wonderful to be with women who are also striving to be kind, to love one another, and to bring others unto Christ.

A boy in my class is mildly handicapped. (I will call him Joe, not his real name.) He is a slow learner, and he stutters, so everybody thinks he is odd. One day at school when I sat by him, a mean boy thought he was being clever by picking on him. But I didn’t think it was clever at all. Joe went and told the teacher. When the teacher came over, I stood up and told her about other mean things that had been done to Joe that he had not told her.
This summer my mom was talking to his mom, and she told my mom that just about every day after school Joe came home crying. When she said that, it made me feel so good that I had been nice to him.
Lisa Miller, age 9Great Falls Fifth Ward

Hope Gentile, four days before her first chemotherapy treatment in March 2015.
Photographs of Hope by Nicholas Gentile
A few years ago, a single word—cancer—thrust the young family of Nicholas and Christina Gentile into what Brother Gentile called “the uncharted depths of a life-or-death trial.” Their 19-month-old daughter, Hope, had been diagnosed with a tumor in her lower back.
“Over the next five months of surgeries and chemotherapy,” recalls Brother Gentile, “Hope’s battle for life created a kaleidoscope of experiences that ultimately strengthened our family’s testimony of the Savior’s grace.”
Hope’s trial and uncertain future drew the family closer—to each other and to the Savior.
“We knew that what we saw was only part of the reality that God saw for Hope,” said Brother Gentile. “Despite the darkness, we trusted in Him, regardless of the outcome.”
One dark night during Hope’s second five-day round of chemotherapy, Brother Gentile noticed how much hair she had lost in the previous few days. Her remaining strawberry blonde wisps painfully reminded him of her mortality. Nevertheless, he found solace in the Lord’s promise that “a hair of [her] head shall not fall to the ground unnoticed” (Doctrine and Covenants 84:116).
“I felt that Jesus Christ was deeply aware of Hope’s journey—and our heartache,” said Brother Gentile. “He did ‘not leave [us] comfortless’ [John 14:18].”
During bedtime one evening as he read a board book to Hope, Brother Gentile asked in a silly voice, “What does the owl say?” Giggling, Hope replied, “Hoo, hoo!” Then he asked, “What does the cow say?” Hope proudly responded, “Moo, moo!”
At that moment, a picture of the Savior on the bedroom wall caught Brother Gentile’s attention. The Spirit prompted him to ask, “Hope, and what does Jesus say?”
As he waited for his daughter’s reply, she snuggled into his shoulder, opened her big blue eyes, and whispered, “‘Hold you.’ Jesus says, ‘Hold you.’”
Brother Gentile gently pulled Hope’s tiny body close and hugged her as he sobbed. As Hope hugged back with her tiny arms, she whispered, “Love you, Dada.”
God had given Brother Gentile and his family that moment for a special reason: “Jesus was holding our family in His loving arms,” he said. “Since that sacred night, I have pondered the tender truth God taught me through my daughter’s words: Jesus will hold us and bless us during our trials if we let Him. These blessings come according to His perfect time, way, and will, but they do come. I know these truths because the Holy Ghost helped me to feel them in Hope’s room on that dark night.”2
I am happy to report that the Gentile family’s faith and prayers were answered. Today, Hope is a healthy, happy 10-year-old.
Left: Hope after her fourth chemotherapy treatment in June 2015. Right: Hope at nine years old.

My father and I were soon assigned as home teaching companions. One of our first assignments was to visit the mission president and his wife. They were very gracious. My father brought a lot of traditions from our previous faith. But they were kind, not critical, in explaining why things were done in different ways in the true Church. We were the home teachers, but we learned a lot from the example of our mission president.

Paula says, “The standards I always saw my friend live were now mine. My friend’s testimony was now mine.” Not long after, Paula began to feel an intense desire to share with others what she had been given. When she had been a member for one year, she filled out her mission papers, met with her priesthood leaders, and received a call to serve in the Chile Santiago East Mission.
Valeria says, “As I watched my friend prepare to serve her mission, the Spirit touched my heart. I wanted to commit myself to serve God the way she was.”
“May I speak to you?” This time it was Valeria who had pulled Paula aside. “I’ve felt something special as you have been preparing to leave on your mission.”
Paula told her friend the same thing her friend had once told her: “It’s the Spirit telling you what you need to do.”
Valeria’s plans hadn’t included a full-time mission. She wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. “I can’t do it alone,” she told Paula.
“Don’t worry. I’ll help you,” her friend assured.
Later, when Valeria opened her call, she was surprised to be going to the same mission as her friend. Paula began serving in October 2002; Valeria joined her in February 2003.
During their missions they saw each other quite often at conferences and activities. They enjoyed catching up and sharing news from their separate areas. They never dreamed that in November 2003 they would be assigned as companions. Their friendship bloomed into a relationship that will last forever. They have gone from being friends to sisters in the gospel to missionary companions.
Sister Valeria Pontelli says, “At first I was afraid that working together might damage our friendship, but that fear faded the first day. This chance to work together has only strengthened our relationship, and our friendship has helped us in the work.”
Others agree. One woman, who used to be less active but has come back to church because of the efforts of these two missionaries, says, “You can’t help but love them because you can see the love they feel for each other and for everyone around them. They are my angels.”
It was hard for these two companions to say good-bye in March 2004, when Sister Paula Alvarez’s mission came to an end. She was nervous about returning to Argentina and all that the future might bring. These two sisters talked about her concerns as they walked to their appointments together. “I can’t do it alone,” said Sister Alvarez.
“Don’t worry,” came the familiar words from her companion, Sister Pontelli. “I’ll help you.”

I know that the healing power is in the Church and that numerous people are healed or improved or restored through the blessings of the Lord, sometimes with and without the skill of men.

We should do all we can for ourselves first: dieting, resting, taking simple herbs known to be effective, and applying common sense, especially to minor trouble. Then we could send for the elders, the home teachers, the neighbors or friends in whom we have confidence. Frequently this is all that is required, and numerous healings can be effected. In serious cases where the problem is not solved, we turn to our skilled and helpful men who can help so wonderfully. One young woman who was sent to the hospital for serious surgery, and who was very nervous and afraid, stated that when the doctor came to see her the night before the early morning surgery, he indicated he had been to the temple. She relaxed and felt at peace, realizing that she was in the hands of a righteous, skilled man of faith and the Lord was watching.

Here is an example of a spiritual and a temporal evaluation of an everyday experience. In a BYU devotional several years ago, Elder Loren C. Dunn described how his father, a busy stake president in Tooele, gave his two young sons the responsibility of raising cows on the family farm. He gave the boys large latitude in what they could do, and they made some mistakes. These were observed by an alert neighbor, who complained to their father about what the young cow-raisers were doing. “Jim, you don’t understand,” President Dunn replied. “You see, I’m raising boys, not cows.” (“Our Spiritual Heritage,” in Brigham Young University 1981–82 Fireside and Devotional Speeches, Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 1982, p. 138.) What a marvelous insight! What an example for parents who are inclined to view and evaluate their children’s performance solely in temporal terms.

Several years ago I attended a BYU football game with some of our young children. We lost the game. I really hate it when that happens. We listened to the coaches’ show on the ride back to our home in Bountiful. When it was over, my children had no alternative but to listen to my own postgame show. Just as I had completed my final analysis of what went wrong in the game, my seven-year-old daughter asked, “Dad, when you see the temple, do you get a good feeling inside?” I wondered, Where in the world did that come from? As I was trying to figure out what that comment had to do with the football game, I glanced over at her and could see she was looking out the window at the Salt Lake Temple. For some reason the game no longer mattered.
My whole life has been enriched by experiences of the temple. Our parents would take us to Temple Square in Salt Lake City on a regular basis. They would point to the temple and tell us that they were married there and because of that we would always be together as a family. What comfort that brought to a little boy whose biggest fear was that his parents might die. Now what comfort it brings to a grown man whose parents have passed on to the other side.
When I was 10 years old, in the shadows of the Salt Lake Temple I first read the Joseph Smith story and received a powerful testimony of the truthfulness of the Restoration.
I remember with thanksgiving going to the temple with my parents and receiving my endowments prior to departing for my mission.
My wife and I were married in the Salt Lake Temple about three years later. In subsequent years I have had the honor of performing the temple marriages of each of our six children.
We know many members of the Church have not had the luxury I have had of growing up around temples. Because of this knowledge we were all thrilled with the announcement made by President Hinckley in October of 1997 when he said, “We are determined … to take the temples to the people and afford them every opportunity for the very precious blessings that come of temple worship” (in Conference Report, Oct. 1997, 69; or Ensign, Nov. 1997, 50).
Since that time we have rejoiced and marveled as we have heard announcements of numerous temples and subsequently read of their open houses and dedications. We are witnessing a modern-day miracle and fulfillment of prophecy. What a wonderful time to be alive!
Our excitement over the building of temples is not shared by all. The adversary in particular is having a major temper tantrum as he sees his power threatened.
Over the last two years I have witnessed his wrath firsthand in West Africa. He has been very active, trying to prevent the building of a temple in that part of the world. Two years ago President Hinckley announced that there would be a temple in West Africa located in Accra, Ghana. Since then the adversary has been relentless in trying to prevent that from happening. Why is Lucifer so concerned?
We have 85,000 members in West Africa, and the Church is growing very rapidly. Sacrament meeting attendance is over 50 percent, but currently only 400 members have been endowed because of the prohibitive expense of traveling thousands of miles to Johannesburg or London. We have over 700 full-time African missionaries serving in the mission field, and very few of them have been endowed.
The African people have waited for centuries to receive the fulness of the gospel and have been through much pain and suffering. Now, at last, they can receive every blessing available to God’s children. Worthy members can receive the temple endowment and be able to have their families sealed together for time and for all eternity.
Faithfulness to temple covenants brings an acceleration of spiritual progress. As Elder John A. Widtsoe explained, “They will attain more readily to their place in the presence of the Lord; they will increase more rapidly in every divine power; they will approach more nearly to the likeness of God; they will more completely realize their divine destiny” (Evidences and Reconciliations [1960], 300).
That is why Lucifer is so concerned. In addition, he is aware of the large number of Africans who have accepted the gospel on the other side of the veil and are anxiously awaiting their proxy baptism and temple endowment as well as being sealed to their families. When a temple is dedicated, the dam in the spirit world will break and there will be a flood of humanity who have lived on the African continent flow into the temple of the Lord as their descendants do their work for them. We should not be surprised that Lucifer is using every means at his disposal to keep a temple from these people.
Through centuries of suffering, the people in general have not become bitter. They are humble, teachable, and God-fearing. They know the scriptures, and they recognize the Shepherd’s voice.
I have faith in their faith. I know the Savior loves the African people. Therefore, to paraphrase verse 33 of the 121st section of the Doctrine and Covenants, “As well might man stretch forth his puny arm to stop the [Congo] river in its decreed course, or to turn it up stream, as to hinder the Almighty from [building a temple for the African Latter-day Saints].”
As the Savior has said, “I will not suffer that [the enemy] shall destroy my work; yea, I will show unto them that my wisdom is greater than the cunning of the devil” (D&C 10:43).
It has been inspiring to see the Lord’s hand in bringing the forces together which will lead to an inevitable victory. There will be a temple in West Africa.
Last week we were driving from Provo to Bountiful again. As we left Provo we could see the temple up on the hill. Before it was out of sight, the Mount Timpanogos Utah Temple came into view, and then the Jordan River Utah Temple appeared, followed by the Salt Lake Temple. And immediately thereafter we could see the Bountiful Utah Temple standing like a jewel above that city.
I thought back to my daughter’s question, “Dad, when you see the temple, do you get a good feeling inside?” I realized the overwhelming answer is, “Yes, when I see a temple I have a wonderful feeling inside.” However, my heart aches for our African brothers and sisters who have never seen a temple in their whole life.
It is my hope and prayer that we will never take temple blessings for granted. I also have a prayer in my heart for West Africa and any other place in the world where outside influences are preventing the Saints from enjoying the blessings of a temple.
I testify to the divinity of this work. Jesus is the Christ. He stands at the head of this Church, and He is orchestrating the building of His kingdom here on earth. We are witnessing miracles, and therefore I can testify they have not ceased. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

My ears burned bright red with embarrassment as my teenage son, Derek, and I finished singing “Be Still, My Soul”1 in sacrament meeting. I had not properly warmed up my voice before the meeting began, and as a result, when I tried to reach a high note, my voice cracked badly.
I slid back onto my bench, feeling uncomfortable despite supportive looks from my smiling wife, assuring me that I had not ruined the spirit of the meeting.
After the closing prayer I headed for my car to retrieve a lesson manual. A sister in our ward stood near the door, sobbing. A friend supported her with an arm around her shoulder. As I passed by, the weeping sister called my name and expressed her appreciation to me for choosing the hymn we sang and for performing it in a way that touched her deeply.
She explained that she had given birth to a stillborn baby several days earlier and had battled anger and despair ever since. As Derek and I sang the hymn, she had felt the Spirit wrap her aching soul in a peaceful, comforting warmth. It had filled her with the hope she needed to bear her cross of grief.
I awkwardly mumbled thanks and headed out the door, feeling blessed and humbled by her words. As I reached the car, I remembered a devotional address by Kim B. Clark, president of Brigham Young University–Idaho. He had said, “When we act in faith in [Jesus] to do His work, He goes with us” to serve others and “blesses us to say just what they need to hear.” He also taught that “what we actually say and actually do may feel a little awkward or not very polished. … But the Savior takes our words and our actions and He carries them through His spirit unto the hearts of the people. He takes our sincere but imperfect effort and turns it into something that is just right, indeed, into something that is perfect.”2
Tears of gratitude filled my eyes as I returned to the meetinghouse. The Lord had blessed an unpolished musical number and carried its message perfectly into the grieving heart of a young sister to comfort her sorrowing soul. In addition, the Lord used this touching experience to carry into my heart a much deeper understanding of a profound gospel principle.

“I always loved playing baseball. I’m grateful to my parents who let me turn the backyard into a practice baseball diamond every summer. I would line it off, make base pads, and really work hard at bettering my skills. In those days there were no organized Little League ball teams. One neighborhood played another neighborhood. The competition was keen. A dirt lot was cleared, and excitement ran high.
“I recall an experience involving a baseball mitt when I was about nine or ten years old. I was playing baseball with great diligence, and I had an old mitt that was coming apart and just wouldn’t do anymore. The kind of mitt I wanted cost $4.50—a lot of money then. I kept wondering how I could get my father to buy it for me.
“Every day when Dad came home from work, he would sit in a rocking chair or swing on the porch while he waited for dinner. He worked long, hard days, and it was during the depression when times were difficult. I knew that my approach and my timing were vital. One night after Mother had fixed Dad’s favorite dinner, I decided it was the right time. ‘Dad,’ I said, ‘you always taught us that when we do something, we should do it right. Is that correct?’
“‘Yes, that’s right,’ he agreed.
“‘You taught us that if we’re going to do something, it ought to be done with quality. Is that right?’
“‘That’s right,’ he agreed again.
“I said, ‘I’m assigned to pitch a critical game this weekend, and my baseball glove is worn-out. You’d want me to go out there with a high-quality, first-class mitt, wouldn’t you?’
“I brought the old glove out from behind my back, and Dad said, ‘That’s a terrible-looking glove!’
“I said, ‘I need $4.50 to get a new one, and I’ve already picked it out.’
“Dad stopped the porch swing, took out his little note pad and pencil, and started writing.
“I knew I’d lost with my sales pitch.
“‘Well,’ Dad said, ‘let’s see how long it would take you to earn it. At ten cents an hour, that would be forty-five hours of work.’ He then mapped out jobs for me that would require forty-five hours of work.
“Of course you know the end of the story. I didn’t get the mitt that week—but I did a couple of weeks later. I still have that glove. It is priceless to me. It taught me the value of work.”

Two days after David got home from his mission, he went to the fitness center his family had joined while he’d been away. An hour later, after working out and taking a shower, he stood with a towel wrapped around him, in front of a mirror. He began to blow-dry his hair. A guy his age approached the mirror, spread shaving cream on himself and began to shave his chest with a razor.

David had never seen anyone shave their chest before—he couldn’t help but stare.

The guy noticed David in the mirror. “How’s it going?” he asked. He turned around and stuck out his hand. “Brad Eppley here. Commodity trading.”

They shook hands. “I’m David Warner.”

“David, great to meet you. I notice you’ve got hair on your chest. The only reason I mention it is because most of the guys in the club shave their chests.”

“I didn’t have hair on my chest when I was 12. So why is a hairless chest such a big advantage now?”

Brad flexed and glanced at his reflection. “Shows muscle definition. And girls love it. With girls, appearance is everything. You know, like the kind of car you have. By the way, what do you drive?”

“A ’78 Pontiac.”

“That ugly green bomb that’s dripping oil all over the parking lot is yours? What do you do, wear a mask when you get into it so nobody will know who you are?”

“It’s not so bad. It gets me around.”

“Yeah, like that’s really the purpose of a car. You seem so out of it. When’s the last time you went out with a girl?”

“It’s been two years.”

Brad threw up his hands. “Well, there you have it! I’m not surprised.”

“The reason I haven’t dated for two years is because I’ve been on a mission for my church.”

“Are you a Mormon?”

“Yes, I am.”

“How much do they pay you to do that?”

“I paid my own way.”

“Why would you do a thing like that?”

“It was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“You want to know what I’ve accomplished in the last two years? Plenty, I’ll tell you. Right now I drive a BMW, I live in the best condo in town, I’ve got the best sound system they make, I go out with the best looking girls. And what have you got to show for your two years?”

“I’m grateful for the experiences I had.”

“What kind of experiences?”

“Having my prayers answered, knowing that Heavenly Father loved the people we were working with.”

“Well, that’s all fine and good, but tell me this, can you deposit experiences like that in a bank?”

“No, but I wouldn’t trade my mission for any amount of money.”

“Look, no offense intended, but maybe you’re not really right for this club. I mean, there’s plenty of other places to work out where you’d feel more comfortable. Like outside, for example, where all those biblical things are—you know, like animals and flowers, things like that. I mean it’s just a thought.”

“You may be right. Is everyone here like you?”

“No, not everybody. For me, though, this club is perfect. They’re open every day of the year, even Christmas. Okay, I admit it, I’m a little on the compulsive side. I come here every day. I have a routine—Monday, abs; Tuesdays, pects …”

“Abs?”

“Abdominal muscles. Pects is pectoral muscles. You don’t get around much, do you? By the way, do Mormons have monasteries? I mean, if they do, you’d be perfect. Well, anyway, I come here every day. If I miss one day I really feel it. Like the time my aunt died. They made me go to the funeral. Yeah, this is a great place. Cheyenne and I come every day. You might have noticed her. You can’t help noticing her. But don’t get any ideas. I’m the man of her dreams, the key to her heart and, really, if you think about it, the hope of her future.”

“Well, good for her. Excuse me.” David went into the locker room to get dressed.

Brad finished shaving his chest, wiped off the excess shaving cream with a towel, and then smeared a white cream on his chest. He came out to talk to David. “You want to know why I’m doing this now?” he asked.

David sighed. “Well, not really, but go ahead.”

“To rid myself of razor stubble. Let me tell you, it’s a big problem. You put on your shirt and it’s like having sandpaper on your chest. This cream is supposed to take care of that. It’s the first time I tried it. Wish me luck.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Just as David was about to leave, Brad suddenly yelled, “Aaaah!” He rushed into the locker room area. “I’m having some kind of allergic reaction! My whole chest is on fire. I’m going to take another shower to get this stuff off me. Look, can you go find Cheyenne and tell her what I’m going through. Tell her not to worry about me though. She’ll be in the snack bar drinking a large tomato juice. That’s all she ever drinks.”

It was easy for David to find Cheyenne. Brad was right—she was beautiful and she was drinking a large tomato juice.

“I have a message from the man of your dreams,” David said, trying to keep a straight face.

“I don’t dream much actually. Sometimes though, when I have a pepperoni pizza late at night, I have a recurring nightmare.”

“By any chance is your nightmare about a guy with an absolutely hairless chest?”

She laughed. “How did you know?”

“I met him. He told me to tell you he was having a reaction to the cream he put on his chest to get rid of razor stubble.”

“Poor baby,” she snickered. She pointed to a full glass of tomato juice on the other side of the table. “You want some tomato juice? I ordered one for Brad, but it looks like he’ll be a while.”

“You might not want to be seen with me.”

“Why’s that?”

“See that car out there? It’s mine.”

“You’ve been around Brad too much. Sit down and drink the tomato juice.”

He sat down and took a sip. “This is the first time I’ve been alone with a girl for two years.”

She looked worried. “What were you in for?”

“In for?”

“You don’t look like the armed robbery type. And with that car of yours it couldn’t have been auto theft.”

“I wasn’t in prison.”

“Sorry. What were you doing for two years?”

“I was a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”

“The Mormons, right? That sounds like a nice thing to do. What was it like?”

He told her about his mission and then said, “I’m really grateful for the experiences I had.”

She looked up from her tomato juice. “You’re the first guy I’ve met who said he was grateful for anything. What are you grateful for? What did you get out of your mission?”

“I found out what’s really important in life?”

“Which is?”

“The people we meet every day are important.”

“Why?”

“Because every one of them is our brother or our sister.”

“That makes you my brother then, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

She gave him a teasing smile, but then looked into his eyes, recognized something very deep and serious, became uncomfortable, and looked away.

They talked for another 20 minutes, until Brad came in and sat down. “You still here?” he asked David.

“I asked him to stay,” Cheyenne said. “I’ve never met anyone like him before.”

“Is that right? Well, you should see his chest. It’s an absolute hairy mess I’ll tell you.”

“Why do you think I care about things like that? It doesn’t mean a thing to me.”

“Well thanks a lot, after I slave all day. What’s this guy got that I don’t have?”

“Gratitude. You have everything a guy could want, but I’ve never heard you say you were grateful for any of it.”

“Hey, look, everything I’ve got is like teetering on the edge of a huge cliff and any moment it can all be swept away. I have to keep fighting just to stay where I am. There’s no time for gratitude in my life.”

“Are you grateful that I came into your life?”

He paused. “It’s not like you don’t get anything from our relationship. I’ve introduced you to some very influential people.”

“Are you grateful for anything?” Cheyenne asked.

“I’d be grateful if you’d quit talking about this.”

There was an uneasy silence. “I’d better go,” David said.

“Let me walk you to your car,” she said.

“Don’t even go near that car,” Brad said. “What if somebody sees you?”

“I’ll take my chances.”

David and Cheyenne walked out to his car. “Beautiful sunset,” he said.

They stopped to look at the sunset. “You find something every day to be grateful for, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Even when things are going bad?”

“There’s always something to be grateful for.” He opened his car door. “I’d better go.”

“What if sometime I decide I want a little more gratitude in my life? What would I have to do?”

“You could start by coming to church with me.”

“That doesn’t sound too hard.”

“I could come by for you this Sunday.”

“Actually I think it’d be better if I drove myself. Brad gets kind of crazy with jealousy sometimes.”

“Yeah, sure. Church starts at nine. Do you know where it is?”

“I pass by it every day on my way to work.”

“I’ll wait for you at the door.”

Brad came running out. “We need to go now. Get in the car.”

“See you.” She turned and walked toward Brad’s BMW. “Brad, did you notice the sunset?”

“What about it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s not like I’ve never seen a sunset before. I mean, it happens every day.”

“I think today I will choose to be grateful for a sunset.”

“How can you talk about sunsets when my chest is still on fire?” They got in the car and drove off. David stayed a minute more to look at the sunset, and then he drove home.

Dad leaned back in his chair. “Do you remember a few years ago, when our family went backpacking in the mountains?”
“I think so.”
“You were very little then, but you wanted to carry your own pack. I’m afraid that it got pretty heavy long before we reached our campsite.”
“I remember now.” Katie’s face brightened. “I was tired, so we sat down to rest beside a stream. And then, when we started out again, you walked right beside me. The pack seemed much lighter then, and I was able to carry it all the way to camp.”
“Did you know that I was helping you?” Dad asked quietly.
“You mean by walking beside me and singing with me?”
“Yes. And also as we walked side by side, I was reaching out my hand and lifting the pack up off your back.”
“You were?” Katie looked at him in surprise. “And I didn’t even know it. No wonder my pack felt lighter—it was!”

One day, as I was walking on my crutches to the local grocery store, I was attacked by a large dog. It bit me on the legs and the arms and knocked me to the ground. I remember screaming for help. Suddenly, a little black shape came flying into the fight and began to help me. It was a savage battle between a crippled cocker spaniel and this much larger, ferocious animal. Pepper’s efforts gave me enough time to get one of my crutches and join in the battle. Together, Pepper and I were able to chase the dog away.
We were both hurt, Pepper much more than I. Soon, my brother arrived to help us. Pepper suffered from his injuries for a few weeks but overcame them and lived for several more years. Little Pepper saved me from potentially serious injury.

Fifteen-year-old Mary Ann Phelps told of being asked to help the Prophet. “When [Joseph] found he had to go to Carthage [to meet with Thomas Ford, governor of Illinois], he wanted a man by the name of Rosecrantz, who was well acquainted with the governor, to go with him.”

At the time, Mr. Rosecrantz’s wife was ill. The Prophet thought that if someone could be found to take care of her, Mr. Rosecrantz would be more likely to make the trip. He asked Mary to stay with Mrs. Rosecrantz.

“I went to stay with Mrs. Rosecrantz,” Mary recalled. “As [the Prophet and Hyrum] were going, they called at the gate with their company of about twenty men, and Joseph Smith asked me if I would bring them out a drink of water.” Mary took them a glass and a pitcher. Joseph leaned over and said to her, “Lord bless you.”1

Another family invited their eighteen-year-old son’s friend who needed a home to stay with them for a year while he prepared for a mission. They provided an environment of emotional support and spiritual example and enabled him to earn his own money for his mission. On his mission he grew in maturity, self-esteem, and confidence. Since his mission, with self-reliance, he has gone forward to strengthen others.