Gospel Story Finder

When President David O. McKay was a young missionary in Scotland, he was homesick, discouraged, and low in spirit. As he walked down the street with his companion, he noticed an inscription chiseled in a stone lintel of an unfinished building which read, “Whate’er Thou Art, Act Well Thy Part.” From that moment, he began to act the part of a good missionary and became a great one. This was a learning experience that helped him in numerous important callings he received later in life. (See Cherished Experiences from the Writings of President David O. McKay, comp. Clare Middlemiss, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1955, p. 174.)

My sister reads her scriptures every night for seminary. I try to read my scriptures each night now, too. One night my sister and I decided to watch a movie and sleep downstairs. After the movie I felt afraid and went upstairs to sleep in my bed. I couldn’t go to sleep, so I listened to Primary songs. Then I read my scriptures. I was able to fall asleep without feeling scared. The Primary songs and scriptures made me feel peaceful and happy.Rachel Cottle, age 9, West Bountiful, Utah

In many cases the example set by these Boston Stake young people has rubbed off on their associates. When Rich Hutchins started playing football for his school, he was able to set a good example. His mother accompanied him to the annual football banquet. The tradition was that after dinner the boys went out drinking. Rich declined their invitation and was taunted with “the good little Mormon boy has to go home with his mommy.” However, the next year after the banquet, he was not teased. And the following year, some friends chose to go home with him instead.

My grandparents weren’t members of the Church. After they passed away, my family was able to serve as proxies for their baptism and temple ordinances. It’s amazing to know that even though those loved ones we had here on earth are gone, we can still be with them in the next life. Before entering the baptismal font when I was a proxy for my grandma, I was overwhelmed by the Spirit, and I knew that what I was doing was right—not just for me, but also for my grandma. After the baptisms for them, my parents and I felt the Spirit much stronger, knowing that our ancestors can be with us in the next life. I miss my grandparents, but I know that we can all be together one day in the presence of God.

Sister Meacham stood up in Primary and said, “Boys and girls, we want you to share your wonderful talents at our Primary Celebrations Show!”
Allison slid down in her chair. What could she possibly perform at a talent show? She didn’t sing, play an instrument, dance, or do anything else like that.
Her best friend, Sarah, leaned over. “I know what song I want to sing!”
“You’ll be awesome,” Allison said. And she would, too. Sarah had such a pretty singing voice. And, of course, Courtney was incredible on the piano. Allison glanced around the room. Everybody else had a special talent. Everybody but her.
Later that day Allison helped Mom deliver some surprise cookies to Sister Moody. Allison rang the doorbell.
“Who’s there?” asked a soft voice.
“Sister Andrews,” answered Mom. “And my daughter. We wanted to drop off some of Allison’s homemade cookies.”
Sister Moody opened the door, and her face lit up in a big smile. “My favorite!” Sister Moody took the plate gratefully. “What a talent. Thank you so much for sharing it with me.”
Allison’s heart skipped a beat. Baking cookies was a talent?
During the car ride home, Allison glanced up at Mom. “Mom, Sister Moody said baking cookies is a talent. Is she right?”
“You bet she is.”
“But … well, you can’t bake cookies on a stage. Nobody claps when you mix dough in a bowl or pull cookies out of the oven.”
Allison always figured making cookies was no big deal. She’d made that chocolate chip recipe so many times she had it memorized.
“Not all talents belong on a stage, sweetheart,” Mom said. “Some people are thoughtful friends or wonderful gardeners. Being able to cook well is definitely a talent not everyone has.”
Allison thought about what Mom had said. Was it really that simple? A moment later she asked, almost in a whisper, “Do you think I could bake cookies for the Primary talent show?”
Mom reached over and squeezed Allison’s hand. “I think that’s a great idea.”
On the day of the talent show, Allison rushed home from school and started baking. She made five batches of her favorite chocolate chip cookies. The house filled with the smell of chocolaty goodness.
At the talent show, Allison sat next to Sarah and Courtney.
“Your name’s not on the program,” Sarah said. “Aren’t you doing anything?”
“Yes. But it’s a surprise.”
One by one her friends performed. Allison clapped loudly each time. They really were impressive. When everyone finished, Sister Meacham stood and thanked everyone for participating.
“Often we only think of talents as being good at music, art, and singing,” Sister Meacham said. “However, talents come in many different forms. Tonight Allison wanted to share her own special talent. After the closing prayer, you’re all invited into the next room to enjoy her homemade chocolate chip cookies.”
Ooh’s and Mmm’s filled the room. After the prayer everybody hurried into the next room.
“These are so good,” Sarah said, taking a bite of her second cookie.
“I wish I could make cookies this yummy!” Courtney said.
Within minutes, only crumbs remained. Everyone complimented Allison on the delicious cookies. She felt so happy inside. Sister Moody was right. She had a talent to share after all.

I am the youngest in a family of four boys, and about twenty-two years ago I was encouraged to apply for a faculty opening here at BYU in the Department of Mathematics. At the time, I was a faculty member at Oregon State University, and my three older brothers lived in Iowa, Washington, and California, while my parents lived in Logan, Utah. In addition to this being a great opportunity for me to come to BYU, it allowed me to be a little closer to my parents, because their health was failing.

My father did not want my decision to move to Utah to be based in any way on helping him and my mother. He was very proud of the fact that his sons were contributing to the kingdom outside of Utah. My wife, Shauna, and I felt that the move to BYU was the right decision, and we arrived here in August 1996.

Six months after our arrival in Provo, my father had surgery in Salt Lake City to repair a heart valve. Ten years earlier his original valve had been replaced with a pig valve, at which time he contracted hepatitis C. Because this pig valve was now failing, the doctors decided to replace it with a mechanical valve. During the surgery the doctors realized that the hepatitis C had wreaked havoc on my father’s liver, which made the heart surgery very traumatic on his body. This was the beginning of a seventeen-day roller coaster ride.

At this time my mother’s health was not good, so she was only able to visit my dad about every two to three days. Thus the responsibility of visiting my father and communicating with the doctors fell to my wife and me. One or the other of us would travel from Mapleton, about ten miles south of Provo, to the hospital in Salt Lake City every day. Many times my wife would visit in the afternoon, and I would spend the evening at the hospital, or vice versa. This was particularly challenging because we had four children ranging in age from three to nine.

I referred to this time as a roller coaster ride because on one day a particular doctor would be pessimistic and on the next day another doctor would be optimistic about the eventual outcome. These varied opinions and outlooks greatly affected my emotions as I went to visit my father.

I remember driving up State Street toward the hospital in Salt Lake City and feeling the dread of what I might hear from the doctors on that day and wondering to myself, “Am I afraid of my dad dying?” I also thought to myself, “I have a testimony of the Atonement of Jesus Christ and of His Resurrection. Am I afraid of death? Do I really believe I will see my father again?”

It is this question of “Do we really believe?” that will be the focus of my comments today. As I pose this question, I do not do so to introduce doubt, because when I was going through these trials associated with my father’s time in the hospital, I never really doubted my testimony. Instead I wondered why I was feeling this wide swing of emotions when I knew I did have a testimony that the Atonement of Jesus Christ would allow me to see my father again.

Moroni 7:41 says:

And what is it that ye shall hope for? Behold I say unto you that ye shall have hope through the atonement of Christ and the power of his resurrection, to be raised unto life eternal, and this because of your faith in him according to the promise.

I believed this scripture, but this was the first time I had had to directly apply it in my life. We don’t truly gain a testimony of many principles of the gospel until we exercise faith and apply those principles in our lives. I already had a testimony of the blessings of paying tithing, a testimony that Joseph Smith saw God and Jesus Christ, and a testimony of God’s presence in the temple because I had had many opportunities to test these principles and had had confirming experiences about them. Facing the death of my father, however, was my first opportunity to test my faith and understanding of the Resurrection.

As I faced this trial, I recalled something that my father had told me many times growing up: “Hold fast to the things you know are true, and the answers to the rest will come to you in time.”

When I was on this trying journey of driving to the hospital each day and was facing the fact that my father might not recover, I held fast to the testimony I did have of various gospel principles, and I knew that someday I would better understand the Resurrection. One thing that I have since come to realize is that the main contributing factor to the swing in my emotions at this time was the fear of the temporary loss of association with my father.

One of the main things we enjoy about our families is spending time with them. My father never missed attending a game in which I participated as a young man. Whether it was church basketball or high school football or basketball, he never missed a game. We also attended many Utah State University basketball games together and even had a chance to attend a Jazz basketball game in the month before his surgery. I believe that one cause of my fears as I drove to the hospital was not a doubt of my testimony but the sadness I would feel in not being able to spend time with him.

After seventeen days in the hospital, my father passed away, and I was forced to consider the question “Do I really believe in the Resurrection and Atonement?”

I conclude where I started by sharing an experience that happened to me several weeks after my father passed away. Sitting in an elders quorum class, I was asked to read Doctrine and Covenants 138:28–30, which states:

And I wondered at the words of Peter—wherein he said that the Son of God preached unto the spirits in prison, who sometime were disobedient, when once the long-suffering of God waited in the days of Noah—and how it was possible for him to preach to those spirits and perform the necessary labor among them in so short a time.
And as I wondered, my eyes were opened, and my understanding quickened, and I perceived that the Lord went not in person among the wicked and the disobedient who had rejected the truth, to teach them;
But behold, from among the righteous, he organized his forces and appointed messengers, clothed with power and authority, and commissioned them to go forth and carry the light of the gospel to them that were in darkness, even to all the spirits of men; and thus was the gospel preached to the dead.

As I read these verses in that elders quorum lesson, the Spirit powerfully testified to me that my father was one of those missionaries sharing the gospel in the spirit world. Do I really believe in the Resurrection and that I will see my father again? Yes. I followed my father’s counsel and held on to what I believed, and the answer did come.

Justina sat extra tall in her seat. She placed her new pencils right at the top of her desk. Today was the first day of school. She’d met her classmates and drawn a fun picture.
Then Mrs. Werner said, “Time to work on writing!” Mrs. Werner handed out papers to the class. “You have 30 minutes to work on this. Then we’ll go to recess.”
Justina gulped. “Oh no. Writing already?” she thought.
Last year Justina had a hard time with reading and writing. All of her friends seemed to like it. It wasn’t so hard for them. What if this year was like last year all over again?
Justina picked up her pencil. She looked at her paper. Her stomach sank. All the other students were writing. Except for her.
She wanted to talk to Mrs. Werner. Would she be mad that Justina was having trouble? Even if she was, that still sounded better than writing.
Justina walked to her teacher’s desk. “Mrs. Werner? This is harder than what I did last year. I don’t think I can do it.”
Mrs. Werner didn’t look upset. She smiled at Justina. “Do what you can. You might be surprised at what you can do! You can’t always choose what you’re good at. But you can always choose how hard you try.”
Justina walked back to her desk. She thought about what Mrs. Werner said. “I can choose to try.” That was like what she learned in Primary. Her class read a scripture that said we are “free to choose.” That meant we could make our own choices. Heavenly Father trusts us to make good choices. He promises to help us when we make mistakes.
Could school be different this year? Maybe she could choose to make it different! Justina picked up her pencil. She looked at her paper. Her stomach relaxed. “OK. I’m going to do this,” she thought.
The recess bell rang. Justina wasn’t finished yet. But she was more than halfway done! She raised her hand. “Can I stay and keep working? I’m so close to being done!”
Mrs. Werner smiled and nodded.
Justina finally handed in her paper. Her hand ached a little bit. Even her brain hurt! But she was smiling. She had never worked so hard on writing before.
The next day the class worked on reading. Mrs. Werner asked everyone to read for 20 minutes. Justina tried again. She opened her book and sounded out the words.
Justina started making choices every day. She chose to read. She chose to write. Maybe reading and writing weren’t so bad!
She even chose to go to the library. She checked out books. Last year she would have never done that. Soon she was reading all the time. And it was actually fun! And the more she read, the better she got at writing.
When Justina got older, she was glad she chose to work hard in reading and writing. Because now those were some of her favorite things to do.

My sister and I were no doubt the envy of many during the great economic depression in the United States during the 1930s. We grew up in a comfortable home. Our father had a job and provided well for the family. Our mother put meals on the table, shopped with us for clothes, and routinely visited her aged mother. I did not know what the Depression was until I studied it in school as a teenager.
Nevertheless, my sister and I felt deprived—emotionally deprived—by our mother. As adults, we have endlessly discussed the lack of warmth, approval, constructive criticism, moral training, and hospitality in our home. Why had Mother seemed so uncaring, critical, and self-centered?
After I joined the Church, I “adopted” someone else’s tender, loving mother as my own. However, it still didn’t salve the hurt. Even Mother’s death provided no healing. It meant only that the yearning for her love and approval could not be fulfilled in mortality.
One day, I drove alone to the temple to be baptized for Mother. As I drove, I prayed for her. Hot tears stung my eyes, and choking sobs welled up inside me.
The sorrow and hurt I was feeling continued all the way to the temple and even into the baptismal font. But when I rose up out of the water, a healing balm enveloped me. It washed away all my bitterness and longing.
I saw Mother, stalwart and whole. The Holy Ghost filled me with the awareness that my mother had been handicapped in mortal life. She had had an emotional handicap, the source of which remains a secret to me. But she is handicapped no longer. And neither am I.
How thankful I am for the Savior and for his love, which extends to me and to my now-whole mother, who is learning the lessons she could not learn in mortal life. I am eager to meet her and to share the love with her that we both were deprived of on earth.

I got my mission call to the Zambia Lusaka Mission. One of the hardest things about coming home early was members not understanding early-returning missionaries.
When I came back, I had to be hospitalized for three weeks, and no members from church called or visited. The only people who came were the group leader and the missionaries to administer the sacrament to me every Sunday—and that was only because I had asked them to. I really could have used the help of members to build my strength and my faith in Jesus Christ during those first few weeks home, but I had to do it alone.
The Lord continues to teach me every day about why I am home earlier than expected, even though it’s still hard to understand sometimes. I now realize that coming home early allowed me to find my father and his family and build a relationship with them. It allowed me to discover that I have a disorder that continues to be part of my life. And I’ve learned what my strengths and weaknesses are—for example, how to say “no.” Before, it was so hard for me to say no to anything or anyone. I was always willing to do things and put others first, no matter how tired or busy I was—which isn’t wrong, but because of this trial, I’ve learned that sometimes I need to put myself first.
I still continue to discover new things about the Lord and why I had to come home early. But a lot of blessings have come my way, and I rely on the Lord daily. Even though it’s hard sometimes and people don’t always understand, I know that the Savior does. And I continue to rely on Him and His infinite Atonement.
Lindi Chibase, Gauteng, South Africa

Many years ago, I traveled on a small plane with a newly certified pilot at the controls. At the end of our flight, we were cleared to land. But as we neared the ground, I heard an alarm in the cockpit warn the pilot to “pull up.” The pilot looked to the more experienced copilot, who pointed in a downward direction, away from the runway, and said, “Now!”

Our plane rapidly moved to the left and down, then climbed back to an appropriate altitude, reentered the landing pattern, and arrived safely at our destination. We later learned that another aircraft had been cleared for takeoff. Had we followed the instructions of the alarm, we would have veered into, rather than away from, the oncoming plane. This experience taught me two important lessons: First, at critical moments in our lives, we will hear multiple voices competing for our attention. And second, it is vital that we listen to the right ones.

Several years ago as I was preparing for further graduate studies, I chose to audit a math class. Given that I was still taking other classes and finishing my thesis, I thought this would be a great opportunity to learn, without the pressures of worrying about a grade. I did great for the first few weeks, but as time became scarcer, I focused on those things for which I would be graded on, and gave less attention and attendance to the math class. Without the risk of a grade and a commitment to do the homework, I soon fell behind and quickly found that I was so far behind it did not justify attending the class.
As with education, life is not a spectator sport to be watched as we sit on the sidelines. It requires that we are active participants and exposed to the great joys and disappointments that come throughout life. In every activity of life, we will at times fall short and make mistakes, but enduring the trial makes the joy of success that much sweeter.

Mary Lou Beilfuss, a Laurel from the Holladay 17th Ward, Salt Lake Olympus Stake, earned the money for her banner by working at a grocery store. The theme of her banner was eternal life.
“It helped me understand more about the recent death of my father, because I studied more about eternal life. The subject was on my mind a lot, and the banner gave me the opportunity to express it on material.
“My mother and sister helped me make it. We are very close already, but working together helped us share our love. I feel close to them because they’re always willing to help. We also shared tears together because the banner had a very special meaning. It made my sister and I think of our father and my mom of her husband.
“I learned from making this banner that I am a daughter of God and that he is there when I call. It has helped my self-image and helped me grow closer to my Heavenly Father. Also, it comforted me about my father’s death,” said Mary Lou.

Oliver couldn’t wait for the week to go by. Next week was the big day he had been waiting for since he was four. He was going to be baptized.
Oliver was so excited about his baptism that he wanted to shout it from the rooftops for all of England to hear! He couldn’t wait to tell his friend Dylan at school.
“I can’t believe it. My baptism day is finally almost here,” Oliver said. “It’s going to be brilliant!”
“I thought only babies got baptized.” Dylan looked confused.
“Kids have to be at least eight to be baptized in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” Oliver said. “That’s my Church.”
“Cool,” Dylan said.
Suddenly Oliver had a thought. “Would you like to come to my baptism?”
“Sure,” Dylan said. “But I need to ask my parents first.”
“OK!”
Oliver was excited that Dylan might come to his baptism. This gave him another idea. “I don’t want to share my baptism with just one friend. I want to invite as many people as I can!” Oliver rushed home and told Mum he had a plan.
On the fast Sunday before his baptism, Oliver started his plan. He shared his testimony at the pulpit; then he said, “I’m getting baptized next Saturday, and I want everyone to come! Will you please invite anyone you know who isn’t a member, or who doesn’t come to church, to my baptism?” He felt like a missionary. He really liked that feeling!
Over the next week, Oliver invited friends, family members, and teachers to his baptism.
“It would mean a lot to me if you could come!” he told them.
As Saturday got closer, Oliver started to wonder how many people would actually show up. What if they were all too busy or didn’t want to come?
He said a short prayer that at least a few people he invited would come. Then he stopped worrying about who might show up. He knew he had done a good thing just by inviting them. Besides, the most important thing about the day was getting baptized.
When he got to church on his baptism day, Oliver could hardly believe his eyes. A lot of his friends were there to support him. He even saw a bunch of people he didn’t know. He waved when Dylan walked in with his parents.
When it was time to be baptized, Oliver stepped into the warm water. His dad took his hand, as they had practiced. Then he said the short baptism prayer and lowered Oliver into the water. Before he knew it, Oliver was standing up again—dripping wet and grinning. He knew he was following Jesus’s example.
After Oliver changed into dry clothes, his dad and a few other men confirmed him a member of the Church and gave him a special blessing, where they invited him to receive the Holy Ghost. Afterward, Oliver asked if he could share his testimony.
“Thank you so much for coming to support me on my special day. It means so much to me,” Oliver said. “I’m grateful for my baptism, and I believe this is Christ’s Church on the earth.”
Afterward, people came up to congratulate Oliver.
“Thanks for inviting me!” Dylan said. “I had a good feeling inside.”
“Everyone has been so kind!” Dylan’s mum said. “We have felt very welcomed.”
That night, Dad sat down on the end of Oliver’s bed. “What a great day!” Dad said.
Oliver nodded. “I’m glad I could share it with my friends.”

Now let’s look at two people who followed the Savior’s example of shining light. Recently my friend Kevin was seated next to a business executive at dinner. He worried what to talk about for two hours. Following a prompting, Kevin asked, “Tell me about your family. Where do they come from?”

The gentleman knew little about his heritage, so Kevin pulled out his phone, saying, “I have an app that connects people to their families. Let’s see what we can find.”

After a lengthy discussion, Kevin’s new friend asked, “Why is family so important to your church?”

Kevin answered simply, “We believe that we continue to live after we die. If we identify our ancestors and take their names to a sacred place called a temple, we can perform marriage ordinances that will keep our families together even after death.”

Kevin started with something he and his new friend had in common. He then found a way to witness of the Savior’s light and love.

The second story is about Ella, a collegiate basketball player. Her example began when she received her mission call while away at school. She chose to open her call in front of her team. They knew almost nothing about the Church of Jesus Christ and didn’t understand Ella’s desire to serve. She prayed repeatedly to know how to explain her mission call in a way that her teammates might feel the Spirit. Her answer?
“I made a PowerPoint,” Ella said, “because I’m just that cool.” She told them about the potential of serving in one of 400-plus missions and possibly learning a language. She highlighted the thousands of missionaries already serving. Ella ended with a picture of the Savior and this brief testimony: “Basketball is one of the most important things in my life. I moved across the country and left my family to play for this coach and with this team. The only two things that are more important to me than basketball are my faith and my family.”

If there are those who doubt President Clark’s tribute to our Founding Fathers, then hear the words of President Wilford Woodruff:
Those men who laid the foundation of this American government and signed the Declaration of Independence were the best spirits the God of Heaven could find on the face of the earth. They were choice spirits . . . inspired of the Lord.
Everyone of those men that signed the Declaration of Independence, with George Washington, . . . called upon me, as an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ, in the Temple at St. George two consecutive nights and demanded at my hand that I should go forth and attend to the ordinances of the house of God for them. . . .
Would those spirits have called upon me, as an Elder in Israel, to perform that work if they had not been noble spirits before God? They would not. . . . Said they: “. . . We laid the foundation of the government you now enjoy, and we never apostatized from it, but we remained true to it and were faithful to God.” [Conference Reports, April 1898, pp. 89–90; Journal of Discourses, 19:229]

I am a telemarketer for a large corporation that is located on the eastern seaboard, but I work in Salt Lake City. Due to the nature of my work, I make phone calls all over the United States. Today I made my best call ever. It was the best, because today I learned about you.
I called a laundry and dry cleaning company in Virginia. After I transacted my business with the owner, he asked me where I was from. I replied, “Utah.”
“What part of Utah?” was his next question.
“Salt Lake City,” I responded.
“Salt Lake City? Well, you must be a Mormon,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“Yes, I am,” I said.
“I have two girls who work for me who are Mormons,” he continued. “They’re the best employees I’ve ever had. Those two girls are only seniors in high school, but they keep my store cleaner than any of my other employees, and they treat my customers great. They’re really polite and pretty … you know the ‘all-American’ type.”
He said, “Those two girls are amazing. Would you believe that they get up at 5:00 A.M. every morning and …”
“Go to seminary!” I inserted.
“Well, I don’t know what it’s called,” he continued. “But it’s some type of religious training. Then they go to school all day, and come work for me until 8:00 P.M. I don’t know how they do all of the things they do, but I’m sure impressed.”
“Would you believe that Mormon youth all over the world are going to early-morning seminary, five days a week?” I asked.
“Well, that’s one thing I have to say for your church,” he said. “You’re sure raising your children right. They’re the best.”
“Thank you,” I said humbly.
We finished our conversation shortly after that, but I hung up the phone feeling a real sense of pride in you two girls. You’re a prime example of what the Church is all about. You’re living the gospel to its fullest potential. Members who set examples as you have done help doors swing wide open for our missionaries.
I just want to let you know that I appreciate you and the lives that you and other Latter-day Saint youth throughout the world are living. Truly, you are not hiding your candle under a bushel (see Matt. 5:15) but are leading the way for truth and righteousness.
Thank you for all that you are doing for the Church. We need more young members like you.

To amplify the doctrine that “. . . out of small things proceedeth that which is great”[2] I tell you the story of Masako Kato. In 1951, when Masako was in her early twenties, she met the missionaries in her hometown of Yokohama, Japan when she attended an English conversation class being taught by them. When the missionaries began to speak of spiritual things, she felt something and allowed them to begin teaching her about the Church and the restored gospel. During this time, both Masako’s older sister and her mother died, within 30 days of each another. She was emotionally devastated, but still attended the little branch of our Church in the area; even the week after her mother passed away. When the opening hymn was sung, the power of the Spirit brought her to tears and she understood for the first time the eternal nature of life.

Masako wanted to be baptized, but her father would not give his permission. Although she was of legal age, her respect for her father caused her to not proceed. However, she continued to attend Church and participate like a member.

The missionaries suggested it would be good for her to share the glorious message she had come to know. Seemingly unafraid, even though the Church had little presence in Japan in 1951, she invited co-workers and even bosses at her company to come to Church with her. A few came to some social activities; but one, Shozo Suzuki, a very new employee of the company, came to Sunday meetings. He had a good feeling about what he heard and consented after a time to receive the missionary discussions. Masako also joined in for her second time through the lessons. After several months, Shozo accepted the challenge to be baptized. Masako again went to her father to seek permission, which he then gave because of the devotion he witnessed in her. On August 4, 1952, Shozo and Masako were baptized in the same service.

One day, a few months later, a young missionary approached Shozo and Masako and suggested they think about marriage—to each other! This surprised them, especially Shozo as he had a non-member girlfriend. However, it prompted him to think about Masako, the person who introduced him to the gospel, in a different way than ever before. On April 29, 1953, they were married in a civil hall in Tokyo by the mission president. In 1965, they came to the Hawaii Temple to be sealed as there was no temple in Japan until 1980.

Brother and Sister Suzuki were blessed with nine children, six daughters and three sons. Seven of their children served full-time missions for the Church. Of the nine, eight married, all in the temple, and seven of their spouses served full-time missions. The Suzukis have 35 grandchildren, with all, eight years of age or older, having been baptized members of the Church. Brother Suzuki has served as a branch president, district president, mission president, Japan Missionary Training Center president, regional representative, and a patriarch in three stakes. With the singular beginning of diminutive Masako (shown in the center of the photograph), and now 54 righteous members of the Suzuki family, indeed “. . . out of small things proceedeth that which is great.”[3]

As youth around the world make the effort to attend seminary, they’re receiving strength in much more than scripture study. Cameron L. of England found that he was blessed in all areas of his life. “Not only does seminary help with the spiritual side of things, but it also helps with school and education,” says Cameron.
He says that “an early start to the day gets your brain into gear. Some of my friends said they were too busy to attend—well, it’s not like you’re going to be reviewing math at 6:00 a.m., are you?” As you study, “the Lord will help you in your exams, and if you go to seminary, He will help you even more,” says Cameron.
Of course, seminary helped Cameron strengthen his testimony as well. He says, “The beginning of my testimony came from the seminary program. At the youthful age of 14, I was really struggling in the gospel. I did not enjoy church, and I got up to things that I shouldn’t have. It was only a matter of months before I would have given up entirely.” But when a friend invited Cameron to attend seminary, he decided to go with her. Then the blessings really began to come.
“I began to feel the Spirit again,” says Cameron. “I started paying more attention in church and attended my Sunday School and priesthood lessons. It became easier, and I started to feel happier. I finally gained a testimony of the gospel for myself.” After two months of seminary, Cameron met with his bishop and was ordained a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood.
Cameron knows that seminary helps him stand strong against the temptations of the world. “As seminary continued,” he says, “I found it easier to deal with the challenges that the world presents. It’s pretty tough being a youth in the world we live in—sin is surrounding us from all sides. I testify to you that if you attend seminary, you will find the strength to defend yourself against it. Seminary creates a spiritual shield to protect you. Many different trials and temptations have been thrown my way, and seminary has been such a huge help in keeping me on the strait and narrow.”

The rescuers, trying to outrace disaster, organized a survival push from Devil’s Gate to Utah. Carefully they loaded the very ill into Utah wagons and then recruited older girls, including Elizabeth, to ride along as nurses. Reluctantly she left her mother and family, and lonesomeness plagued her for weeks. Mostly she rode, but when the wagons ascended mountains she had to walk. At the foot of Big Mountain, a day away from Salt Lake City, snows stood so deep she had to put on men’s boots. Taller people walked in each other’s tracks, but Elizabeth was too short: “I had to make my own road up, frequently falling down as the snow was so deep and drifted.” When they reached the summit and could see Salt Lake Valley below, Elizabeth said, “the men took off their hats and we waved our handkerchiefs.” She reached the city safely on November 30, two weeks ahead of her family, and stayed with friends.

One day during my school choir practice, I accidentally embarrassed a boy. He sang a note by himself and went out of tune. People started laughing, and I laughed too. Afterward I felt really bad, so I asked my mom for help. She told me I should tell him I was sorry. I handwrote an apology letter and handed it to him during recess. About a day or so later, when I was walking down the hallway with my friends, the boy stuck his head out of his classroom and yelled, “I forgive you!” I’m glad I had the courage to make the right choice.
Courtney L., age 11, Texas, USA