Gospel Story Finder

For example, think of the faith of a boy, about eight years of age, who was facing an emergency operation for acute appendicitis. As he lay on the operating table, he looked up at the surgeon and said, “Doctor, before you begin to operate, will you pray for me?”
The surgeon looked at the boy in amazement and said, “Why, I can’t pray for you.”
Then the little fellow said, “If you won’t pray for me, please wait while I pray for myself.” There on the operating table, the boy got on his knees, folded his hands, and began to pray. He said: “Heavenly Father, I am only a little orphan boy. I am awful sick, and these doctors are going to operate. Will you please help them that they will do it right? Heavenly Father, if you will make me well, I will be a good boy. Thank you for making me well.” He then lay on his back, looked up at the tear-filled eyes of the doctors and nurses, and said, “Now I am ready.”
His physical recovery was complete, and his spiritual power was developing.

From her playhouse inside the willow thicket Hannah heard her mother call, “Where are you, dear? I need you.”
After putting her clothespin dolls in their secret hiding place, Hannah went into the house.
“I’m glad you came so quickly, Hannah,” Mother said with a smile. “I must hurry over to Sister Hansen’s house. Would you please bring some potatoes from the root cellar so I can start supper when I come back.”
“Oh, Mother!” Hannah’s skin prickled with dread. “The cellar’s full of spiders, and today I saw a toad hop out. I don’t want to go down there.”
“Sometimes we all must do things we don’t want to do. Take your little brother with you if you like,” Mother said, putting her hand on Sammy’s shoulder.
“I’ll go with you,” Sammy said good-naturedly. And standing tall and brave, he added, “I’m not afraid of anything!”
But after their mother started down the lane, her long skirt swinging and her flowered sunbonnet bright, Sammy said, “I don’t like that old root cellar much either.”
“I’ll tell Mother if you don’t come,” scolded Hannah.
Her brother poked his hands into his overall pockets defiantly and wouldn’t budge. Hannah glared at him a moment and then, trying to look brave, marched toward the slanting plank door placed at ground level behind the house. She lifted the door, then closed it quickly. Just to look at the uneven steps cut into the damp earth made Hannah shudder.
Spiders and dimness were bad enough, but yesterday she’d heard Father say to Mr. Hansen, “When we finish that irrigation ditch to my property line, I must take time to finish my root cellar. Those temporary supports propping up that dirt roof might not hold.”
If I had only remembered to tell Mother what Father said, thought Hannah, she wouldn’t want me and Sammy to go into the cellar. She turned to walk away. Then Hannah remembered how sad and weak Mother looked since the new baby died and how hard Father had to work. Hannah knew she must do her share, but she decided her brother would have to go with her whether he wanted to or not.
Hannah turned to Sammy, who had followed her. “You go down first,” she ordered.
“Not me!” his freckled face was stubborn.
“You’re just a fraidycat!”
Sammy cried, “I am not! Dumb old toads and spiders don’t scare me.” With that, he stooped and threw open the cellar door, and his sister barely managed to stop it from banging shut again.
Hannah started down the steps behind her brother, walking backward so she could prop the door open. Then Sammy’s voice, echoing in the small enclosure, mocked, “Hannah’s a fraidycat!”
Angry, she swung around, lost her hold on the door, and it banged shut, knocking her down the steps.
Hannah rose to her knees, terrified by the darkness. If toads and spiders were near, she couldn’t even see them.
“Hannah, what happened?” cried Sammy. But she didn’t answer because she was startled at the heaviness of wet earth falling on her head and shoulders.
The roof is caving in! she thought. The door banging shut must have knocked the boards loose that Father had used as props.
Nearby she heard her little brother call, “Oh, Hannah, help! I’m all covered with dirt!”
“I’ll be there in a minute, Sammy,” Hannah promised as she groped in the dark, trying to find the door to shove it open. But her searching hands clutched at only wet dirt. The entrance was blocked. She and Sammy were trapped in the root cellar.
The darkness around them was like nothing Hannah had ever imagined. Blue-dark of night with silver starlight was nothing like this brown-dark with its loamy dankness, a blackness filled with shifting dirt particles.
Sammy was crying with loud, choking sobs. I mustn’t cry, Hannah thought, even though I’m scared too. We don’t have enough air, and my chest is beginning to hurt.
She reached for her brother. When her hand touched his shoulder she struggled closer so that she could hug him.
“Don’t cry, Sammy,” she comforted. “We must try to breathe carefully so we don’t use up all the air in here.”
He gulped, “What can we do, Hannah?”
“We can pray,” she told him, and then closing her eyes Hannah began, “Heavenly Father, please help me and Sammy. We’re almost buried in this cellar and nobody’s home. Please help us get out.”
Talking hurt her throat so she said, “Amen,” silently. The air in the cellar was nearly gone.
Hannah was no longer worried about toads and spiders as she reached around the area where she and Sammy crouched. Her fingers touched a rough object. Running her hand across its surface she knew she had found a board Father had used to support the roof.
“Help me, Sammy,” she gasped. “Let’s try to poke a hole through over our heads.”
Her brother’s hands met hers. Together they grasped the splintery board, pushing it upright until Hannah felt it strike solid dirt.
“All right, Sammy. Let’s push, but be careful. We mustn’t knock any more dirt loose.”
Silent, gasping, they carefully prodded the unseen roof over their heads again and again.
Just as Sammy whispered, “I’m too tired, Hannah,” the board pushed free. They had broken through!
Sammy’s hands dropped, but Hannah, trembling, worked the board back and forth until she saw a blue circle of light. They had air, but would it be enough? There was still a tightness in her chest and Sammy, sobbing again, sounded feeble.
Hannah took a breath, then held it. “What’s that noise?” she whispered.
A steady thud, thump, thud vibrated the dirt around them. Someone is outside, but Mother wouldn’t have come back from the Hansens so soon, Hannah decided.
Suddenly an opening that let in more light and air appeared near the door and a man’s voice called, “Anybody there?”
“Yes! We’re in here.”
“You OK?”
Hannah couldn’t answer, but the man said, “Hang on. I’ll have you out in a minute.”
When a pair of hands appeared, Hannah somehow managed to push Sammy toward the opening where he could be pulled out. Then she felt strong fingers around her wrists, and she was tugged through the small opening made in the damp earth.
Hannah blinked in the bright, clean air as Brother Card looked down at her, a smile on his bearded face.
She stumbled to her feet beside Sammy just as Father’s horse clattered up. Jumping down, he ran to Sammy and Hannah and hugged them close. “Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.
“We are now, Father,” Hannah answered, “but we nearly smothered. The roof of the cellar caved in.”
“It’s all my fault,” Father said, rubbing his forehead. “I should have fixed that roof long ago.”
Brother Card comforted, “Now, don’t blame yourself, Joseph. Every settler in town has had more work to do than he has had time for.”
“Hannah saved us, Father,” Sammy said. “We poked a hole through the roof with a board.”
“That’s what I saw when I came by, which was a mighty strange thing for me to do,” Brother Card explained. “I haven’t cut across your property in the two years we’ve been neighbors, Joseph. Wasn’t going to this afternoon either. But for some reason my feet turned this way. First thing you know I saw that board sticking through the ground, waving like a signal. Guess the Lord guided me here.”
Sammy and Hannah smiled at each other. “Brother Card, we know He did,” Hannah said quietly.

The book of Proverbs states, “Where there is no vision, the people perish.”19 When we fail to appreciate God’s guidance and the blessings of the restored gospel, we can be blind to the value of what we already have.
Such was the case of Ali Hafed, who sold his prosperous farm in ancient Persia to search for diamonds. He was not satisfied with his prosperity when compared with the fortunes of others. Sadly, he spent the rest of his life seeking in vain for greater riches.
Ironically, some years later, the new owner of Ali’s farm found a strange-looking rock on his land that turned out to be a very large diamond—the first of many to be discovered on what eventually became the great diamond mine of Golconda. Unbeknownst to Ali, he had been living on acres of diamonds all along.20

He told a story of a French carpenter in the early 1800s who was having difficulty in his profession keeping his productivity high because of the defective hammers he used. He had trouble keeping the head on the hammer as he worked. He would spend half of his time chasing his flying hammerhead. He tried everything to attempt to keep the head on. He tried to nail it on. He tried to soak it in water. He even tried to glue it. Each process would help only for a short time before he would again find himself chasing the hammerhead. Now, all of the carpenters in the country were having the same problem and all were seemingly content to live with the situation with the exception of this man. He desired to be the best carpenter in all of France, but his efficiency was limited to the effectiveness of the tools he used. He reasoned that the only way he could become the best was to build a better hammer. Each evening after his working hours, he would ponder and think about what could be done to develop a better hammer. Finally, after years of work, the right concept was discovered. It was a simple solution, but, oh, how workable. The process he developed was to make the bottom of the hammerhead smaller than the top and then drive a wedge into the top of the hammer. As long as the wedge was in place, the hammerhead could not come off. In fact, the more pressure applied to the hammerhead to attempt to have it fly off, the more pressure was on the wedge to keep it in place. He had built the world’s greatest hammer. It has become the pattern for most of the hammer manufacturers even to this day. Now, his was not the world’s greatest discovery, but in his own field he became the best.

For a long period after I converted to the gospel, I didn’t have a clear answer to the question “Why am I given trials?” I understood the part of the plan of salvation that says we will be tested. However, in reality, when it came to this question, I did not have a conviction that was powerful enough to adequately answer it. But there came a time in my life when I too experienced a major trial.
When I was 30 years old, I was visiting the Nagoya mission as part of my work. After the meeting, the mission president kindly arranged for the elders to drive me to the airport. However, as we reached the intersection at the bottom of a long hill, a large truck came barreling down from behind us at great speed. It rammed into the rear of our car and propelled it forward more than 70 feet (20 m). The terrifying part of all of this was there was no driver. The rear of our car was compacted to half its original size. Fortunately, both the elders and I survived.
However, on the following day, I began experiencing pain in my neck and shoulders and developed a severe headache. From that day, I couldn’t sleep and I was forced to live each day with both physical and mental pain. I prayed to God to please heal my pain, but these symptoms lingered on for about 10 years.
At this time, feelings of doubt also began creeping into my mind, and I wondered, “Why do I have to suffer this much pain?” However, even though the kind of healing I sought was not granted, I strove to be faithful in keeping God’s commandments. I continued to pray that I would be able to resolve the questions I had about my trials.
There came a time when I found myself struggling with a few additional personal issues, and I was agitated because I did not know how to cope with this new trial. I was praying for an answer. But I didn’t receive an answer right away. So I went and talked with a trusted Church leader.
As we were talking, with love in his voice, he said, “Brother Aoyagi, isn’t your purpose for being on this earth to experience this trial? Isn’t it to accept all the trials of this life for what they are and then leave the rest up to the Lord? Don’t you think that this problem will be resolved when we are resurrected?”
When I heard these words, I felt the Spirit of the Lord very strongly. I had heard this doctrine countless times, but the eyes of my understanding had never been opened to the extent they were at this time. I understood this was the answer that I had been seeking from the Lord in my prayers. I was able to clearly comprehend our Heavenly Father’s plan of salvation and understand anew this important principle.
Let’s now consider that rear-end collision in Nagoya. I could have died in that accident. Nevertheless, through the Lord’s grace, I miraculously survived. And I know that my sufferings were for my learning and for my growth. Heavenly Father schooled me to temper my impatience, to develop empathy, and to comfort those who are suffering. When I realized this, my heart was filled with feelings of thankfulness toward my Heavenly Father for this trial.

One day, my grandchildren, Seth, Cole, and Paige, were visiting me. Paige and I were playing a game in our downstairs family room. Seth and Cole were upstairs in the living room, playing “cars.” They were taking turns to see whose car could go the fastest and farthest.
I didn’t actually know what they were doing until Seth came downstairs and said, “Grandma, you need to come upstairs for a few minutes.”
I went upstairs, and he pointed to my favorite porcelain figurine of two boys playing marbles. “Grandma,” he said, “my car accidentally hit the figurine and broke the head off the boy.”
I was pretty upset, and he knew it. But I said, “Maybe my superglue will fix it.” We got it out, and I was able to very carefully mend the figurine. I didn’t tell Seth how proud I was of him for admitting what he had done, because I was still upset. Both boys know that they shouldn’t play cars in the living room!
The next day, after Seth had gone back home to Idaho (I live in Logan, Utah), I started to think about how much courage it must have taken him to choose the right and tell me the truth about the broken boy.
I wrote him a letter right away and told him so, and that I was proud of him. He could have blamed it on Cole, or he could have never told me at all. I also told him how glad I was that only a porcelain figurine had been broken and not his testimony of choosing the right.

May I share a personal experience with you?
At a previous institution where I was employed, I had been given the responsibility to meet with a group who was preparing to sue the institution and felt very strongly about what had been done and how it had impacted them. I admit that in the first meeting I handled it very poorly. The tone became accusatory, personal, and quite ugly. I found myself reacting to their anger and frustration in a very inappropriate way. The meeting did not go well, and it would be necessary to meet again.
As I prepared myself for the next meeting, I found myself preparing for war. I thought of everything that might be thrown at me, and I was preparing myself with all the things I could say or do to show them that they were wrong and the institution I worked for was right.
As I was shaving and looking in the mirror that morning and thinking of all that I could do to show them, it came to me, "Charles, choose to pre-forgive. Choose to not be offended." That is what I did. The meeting started out as the first had. I waited patiently until they were done. They had been mean, personal, and offensive. I chose to not be offended, and I listened. It was very hard. When they were done, I simply asked how we could get to a solution to their concerns and frustrations. Once they realized that I was serious about wanting to work with them and come to a resolution, the tone of the meeting changed, apologies were given, and a solution was found that resolved the dispute between the institution and this group at much less cost than going through a lawsuit. The group's leader and I became friends, and I was able to call upon him for future help at the institution. It was a great learning experience for me.

A week after Bishop Stone was sustained as the new bishop, his executive secretary arranged for an interview with Kevin Blake. Kevin was about to turn 14 and needed to be interviewed about his worthiness to be ordained a teacher.
Kevin waited after church to see the bishop. He didn’t expect it would take long, so Kevin asked his family to wait for him.
“Hello, Kevin,” said the bishop. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to be interviewed to be ordained a teacher,” Kevin said.
“Oh, yes. Of course. Let me ask you a question. Do you know where we find the duties of the office of a teacher?” Bishop Stone asked.
“I don’t know. In the teachers’ manual, I guess.”
The bishop smiled and opened his scriptures and handed them to Kevin. “Read Doctrine and Covenants 20:53–54 [D&C 20:53–54], please.”
Kevin began to read. “The teacher’s duty is to watch over the church always and be with them and strengthen them; And see that there is no iniquity in the church, neither hardness with each other, neither lying, backbiting, nor evil speaking.”
“You can stop there,” Bishop Stone said. “That seems like a tough job to me. How are you going to do it?”
Kevin sighed. “Well, I know that teachers go home teaching.”
“That’s true; they do. Good answer. That does help us to watch over the Church, and be with them and strengthen them. But let me ask you another question. As a teacher, how are you going to see ‘that there is no iniquity in the church, neither hardness with each other, neither lying, backbiting, nor evil speaking’?”
Kevin was stumped. “I don’t know.”
The bishop smiled. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know either. But we both need to find out. I’d appreciate it if you’d think about it this week and then come back next Sunday and give me some of your ideas.”
On the way home, Kevin’s mother asked him how the interview had gone.
“I can’t believe it. I have to go back next week.”
His 12-year-old sister, Emily, picked up on that. “I’m not surprised,” she said.
Kevin rolled his eyes.
“Would you like to talk to your mother and me in private?” asked his dad.
“I didn’t do anything wrong. The bishop just asked me to come up with a plan about how I was going to see that there’s no backbiting or evil speaking in our ward.”
Just before they ate, Kevin’s friend Todd called to tell him about the teachers quorum activity for the week.
“I’m not a teacher yet,” said Kevin.
“No, but you will be, right?”
“I have to go back and see the bishop next week.”
There was a long pause and then Todd said, “Oh.” Todd made a quick excuse that he had to eat and hung up.
Kevin wasn’t very hungry, but he ate a little and excused himself and went to his room. A few minutes later his dad knocked on his door and asked if he could come in. He pulled a chair up to Kevin’s bed and said, “Kevin, I don’t think the bishop is down on you. I think he is just asking for your help.”
“I don’t see how I can help him,” Kevin said.
“Well, the Lord did give teachers in the Aaronic Priesthood the responsibility to see that there’s no backbiting or evil speaking. Maybe the bishop is just honoring the responsibility you have as a teacher. We have a good ward, but we’re not perfect. There is some backbiting. Not much, but some. Why not honor the bishop’s request and see what ideas you can come up with?”
Kevin reluctantly agreed to do what he could.
At first he couldn’t think of anything, but then things started to change. On Monday after family home evening, he swallowed his pride and went to Emily. “Do you ever see any backbiting or evil speaking in our ward?”
“Sometimes.”
“What causes it?”
“Not every girl comes from a family with enough money for expensive clothes. That can cause people to talk.”
“I don’t see how I can stop that,” said Kevin.
“I try to stop it,” Emily said. “Whenever anyone starts saying bad things about a girl, I try to say good things. You could do that too.”
“That’s not going to stop it.”
“It will if more people look for the positive instead of the negative.”
Kevin felt a twinge of conscience. One of the boys in the deacons quorum was Justin Evanston. Everyone else in the quorum liked sports and camping, except Justin. The boys sometimes made fun of Justin, especially when he tried to play basketball. He was uncoordinated and awkward. Kevin himself had made fun of Justin. He felt bad about it now.
At school on Monday, Kevin saw Jon Dunford in the halls. Jon lived in their ward but didn’t come anymore. He’d gotten into drugs in the seventh grade and a few months later was arrested. He spent six months in a juvenile correction facility and then came back to live at home. Kevin had seen him the first day after he got back. “I’m going to start back to church,” Jon had said.
“Right,” Kevin had replied sarcastically.
Jon came to church once but never returned. Eventually he went back to his old friends. Kevin figured it was only a matter of time before Jon would be put away again.
Kevin decided to talk to Jon.
“Jon, that time you came to church after you first got back, what was it like for you?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I just want to know.”
“Okay. I’ll tell you,” said Jon, an edge in his voice. “A lot of cold stares, a lot of whispering behind my back, and nobody my age talking to me. A lot of the adults said they were glad I was back, but nobody my age did. Not even you.”
Kevin swallowed hard. “Sorry.”
“When I first came back, I really wanted to change my life,” he sighed. “But it’s too late for that now.”
“Give us another chance,” said Kevin. “Come to church with me next time. I’ll do better.”
Jon looked at Kevin for a long time. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“Maybe sometime,” Jon said, starting to walk away.
“What about tomorrow night? We’re going to a TV studio to see how they do the news.”
Jon pursed his lips. “That doesn’t sound too bad. Maybe I’ll go.”
The next day before school Kevin found Jon in the parking lot behind the school with the guys he partied with. “Is tonight still okay?”
Jon smiled. “I’ve never seen you out here before.”
“What about tonight? We could pick you up a little before seven.”
“That’d be okay.”
When they stopped by later that night, Jon wasn’t home, but Kevin wasn’t discouraged. He’d just have to keep asking until Jon gave in and went with him.
The next Sunday after church, Kevin waited to see the bishop. He no longer felt bad that the bishop had asked him to come back; in fact he was glad. This time, when the bishop asked him what a teacher could do to see that there was no backbiting or evil speaking, Kevin had some things to say.
He could hardly wait to see the bishop.

The youth of Caerphilly Ward, Cardiff Stake, prepared for the Christmas season of 2020 in a most fitting way. In conjunction with Care4Humanity and LDS Charities, they worked on the SNUG Pack initiative (socks, neck-warmers, underwear, and gloves). In just a couple of hours, 1,012 packs were assembled and tagged, ready for their journey to refugees in Calais.
Sister Deb Barry, who was instrumental in organising the efforts, said, “One of the things that really stood out to me when I spoke to the youth about why they wanted to come and participate in this activity, many of them responded that ‘they couldn’t imagine seeing people being cold this winter and this would help people stay warm and cared for’.
“What was great about this was they knew this was for refugees in Northern France but when they spoke about who was receiving these items, they referred to them as people. This, to me, was probably one of the most beautiful moments and a reminder of what we should all be learning from our youth. I spoke to them individually and they all saw this service as helping the individual person.
“It’s a great reminder how the Lord has asked us to look for the one and care for one another. Our passport, identity, wealth, age, gender, and so on, aren’t what is important. Keeping people warm this winter, and allowing them the dignity they deserve as well, is so important. I loved that the youth have just felt that, and they then teach this to the younger youth coming up.”

Illustrated by Mike Eagle
When Heber J. Grant was nearly 24, he was called as a stake president. He had never spoken to a large group before, so when he gave his first talk, it was only seven minutes long.
The next two Sundays, Heber traveled to different wards. Again he ran out of ideas after speaking for six or seven minutes. So the Sunday after that, he brought two speakers with him.
Heber: Bishop Sharp, it looks like no one is coming to the meeting. Where is everyone? It’s almost time to start.
Bishop Sharp: I’ve encouraged the members to be in their seats on time, President Grant. We’re the last ones to arrive—you’ll see.
Inside the log meetinghouse, every seat was full! Heber thought he would speak for a few minutes, as usual. Instead, he spoke easily for nearly an hour. He felt the Spirit guiding him.
That night Heber prayed with gratitude.
Heber: I thank Thee, Heavenly Father, for blessing me with the Spirit as I spoke today.
The following Sunday he expected to speak just as well, and he did little to prepare. How embarrassed he was when no words came to his mouth! He spoke for only five minutes.
He tearfully left the meeting and went into a field to pray. After that he always remembered to rely on the Spirit whenever he taught.
Heber: Forgive me for not praying or preparing. I know that I can preach only if I first seek Thy Spirit.

When Lexie’s grandmother visited the Humanitarian Center in Salt Lake City, Utah, last year, she learned about the poor conditions for newborn babies in many parts of the world. “Grandma told me that babies were being brought home wrapped in newspapers, and I just thought, ‘What can I do?’” Lexie explains.
She set a goal to make them baby quilts. First, her grandma taught her how to use the sewing machine. Then they purchased batting and flannel decorated with pastel flowers, checked patterns, and bright smiley faces for babies to snuggle up in.
Lexie made her first quilt for her mom. She also gave one to her seven-year-old sister, Lillyn. Lillyn helped Lexie by tying the quilts—using a needle to sew yarn in neat rows across the whole blanket. Then she snipped between the stitches and tied knots so little puffs of yarn would stick up from the fabric. Lillyn had one problem with her task. “Sometimes when I poke a needle through the blanket, I poke myself!” she exclaims.
Lillyn helped in other ways, too. She went with Lexie, their grandma, and a cousin to deliver the blankets to the Humanitarian Center. There Lexie dropped the quilts into a big gray bin filled with blankets and quilts donated by other people. The Humanitarian Center sends these donated items to people in more than 100 countries.
Was reaching her goal worth so much time and work? “Yes,” Lexie insists, nodding quickly. “I know that I’m helping someone, and I feel very good about that.”

Still another teacher taught me that the ultimate discovery in growing up is the discovery of oneself, when one comes face-to-face with his own limitations and, simultaneously, has his eyes opened to his talents.
Ellis “Red” Wade helped me make this discovery. He tested my manual skills (and his patience) by having me construct a piano stool and hall tree in a year of shop work. I labored endlessly. Nothing would fit together or vaguely resemble the paper sketches. It was apparent that building things with my hands was not one of my endowments. When I took my handiwork home, Mother positioned my hall tree behind a door where it served a purpose without being seen. My dad, I think, used the piano stool in milking the cow.
Fortunately, Mr. Wade could see I possessed physical skills and coordination. He taught me to respect my body and to strive toward athletic goals. He, and later Coach Staples, transfused me with the desire to strive for excellence in various forms of competition. This was not done in a lopsided fashion. They were always advocates of balance between physical and mental pursuits. I thank them for helping me follow this inspired direction: “Let no man despise thy youth; … Neglect not the gift that is in thee … Meditate upon these things; give thyself wholly to them; that thy profiting may appear to all” (1 Tim. 4:12, 14–15).

“Sister Hopkins, these are the 10 Sunbeams you will be teaching this year,” the counselor in the Primary presidency announced. I was a new convert, and I admit that this calling terrified me. How could I teach what I did not yet have a firm understanding of? How would I handle so many energetic children? But the bishop and Primary president assured me I would be blessed for tackling this daunting calling.
I knew I’d have to pour myself into learning the gospel in order to teach it, so each week I read the manual—a source of abundant gospel light—and prayed and pondered how the principles applied to my life and to the children’s. As I studied and taught, I gained a testimony of our divine birthright as children of God. I discovered the worth and uniqueness of each soul. Simple Primary lessons not only illuminated the faces of His precious children, but they also blossomed the seed of testimony I had had when I entered the waters of baptism.
That precious year with the Sunbeams has made me forever grateful for a calling that changed my life. I was changed, as were the children, by the teachings of Jesus Christ.

The young women in the Salt Lake Eagle Gate Stake’s 18th North Ward have a unique way of doing work for the dead. Many of them have done the conventional things lots of teenagers do: finding names, doing baptisms at the nearby Salt Lake Temple, and keeping records of their own lives to pass on to future generations. But this activity has been a little different.
The Salt Lake City Cemetery is within walking distance of the girls’ homes, and they have spent many hours there, working to revive the memory of a woman who seems to have been nearly forgotten. The headstone at the grave was never very large, and after more than a hundred years of cold winter storms and summer heat waves, it was crumbling, the name completely worn off.
The girls took some time to learn about the woman buried there. Her name was Sarah Melissa Granger Kimball. She was a Relief Society president for 41 years in a ward near the girls’ homes and worked tirelessly as a wife, mother, and educator.
The girls decided that a woman who had contributed so much to the lives of women who were the early settlers of Utah deserved a little more recognition than the tired old headstone afforded her.
So they got to work. First, they listed the work that needed to be done and divided it into individual assignments. Crissy Renda was the group’s researcher. Rebecca Priggemeyer documented the group’s progress on film. The other girls helped in various aspects of selecting a new monument to mark the grave, and they each participated in keeping a journal about their feelings and insights during the project.
“I used to think of Relief Society as something for people old or boring,” says Elizabeth Clark. “But learning about Sarah, I realized that she was energetic and really dedicated to making women’s lives better. The way I feel about Relief Society has really changed.”
It isn’t every day the Relief Society general presidency, the general board, and a representative of the Young Women presidency show up to a Young Women activity. But this was no ordinary activity.
When the time came to place the headstone, the Young Women wanted to do something special. They had spent countless hours researching Sarah’s life, and they wanted to pay tribute to Sarah for what they had learned from her.
“I am so grateful for everything that Sarah has done for the women of the Church,” Crissy says. “By researching her life, I have come to feel a closeness to her.”
Many of Sarah’s accomplishments are listed on the back of the monument the Young Women erected. At age 15, Sarah was invited to be educated with the School of the Prophets. She founded the Ladies Society of Nauvoo. She helped build the first Relief Society hall and Relief Society granary. She served as the first president of the Utah Women’s Suffrage Association, where she was a strong voice in the campaign to give women the right to vote. She also served in the general Relief Society presidency for 12 years.
As these young women did this unique work for the dead, they discovered that their work was a fulfillment of prophecy. Sarah was promised by Joseph Smith that because of her devotion she would be remembered from generation to generation.* As the young women uncovered stories about Sarah, they learned of her dedication to the Church. They believe the stories of her dedication will shape their lives and keep the memory of Sarah alive.

Last year I experienced what Lemony Snicket would describe as A Series of Unfortunate Events.
In a space of four weeks I had seven major surgeries, the possible amputation of my leg, and was diagnosed with stage-three cancer. I told you it was unfortunate! Prolonged hospital stays and treatments gave me ample opportunity to reflect on my relationship to God and others. Sometimes limitations placed on us can be liberating in other ways. I know that for all our weakness, fears, and failings, including our own hypocrisy, there stands Christ perfect, preeminent, loving, and anxious to bless us.

Teresa and Reiner met in a hospital. She was visiting a friend, and he was working his way through college as an orderly. When he walked into her friend’s hospital room, Teresa remembers thinking, “Boy, this guy is tall.” Standing six feet herself, she was aware of height. Reiner is six-foot-eight. “He remembered my phone number when I gave it to my friend and called me,” said Teresa. They were married a year later. It was while the couple was stationed in Germany, fulfilling an ROTC obligation in the army, that Shawn was born. After finishing his schooling as a medical technologist, Reiner moved his young family back to Teresa’s hometown of Castle Dale, Utah. They wanted a small-town atmosphere for their children.

Many years later, in 1976, my mother and stepfather were living in Sugar City, Idaho, when the Teton Dam broke, and once again, everything that they owned was lost. After the flood, Mother walked into my home (I was married by this time) with a little plastic clothes basket that contained everything she had in the world—except for her family, her friends, and the gospel. These were difficult experiences, but with my mother’s help I learned a lot about the kindness of people and about seeing events in an eternal perspective.

“My friend was a leader, too, but not in the Church. He also had inactive parents who offered little support. I could see so much potential if only his attitude toward the Church were positive. The only important quality he lacked was a testimony.

“We had many long talks together about the Church. Sometimes he would laugh at the things I would say. I would be hurt and often cried. One night, with tears in my eyes, I finally shared my testimony of Joseph Smith and the gospel plan. From the look in his eyes, I knew he would not laugh at me again.

“He began praying, studying, and attending church. Once he got a taste of the Spirit, there was no stopping him. He was on a mission within a few months. He brought many people into the Church and continues to do so. And now I am his wife!”
Joyce M. AshtonFremont, California

One pleasant summer morning in 1986 when my wife, Siou Chin, was preparing to leave for a class, I felt an impression clearly telling me to give her a ride to the bus stop. She had been taking classes at a school for teachers, and the bus stop was seven miles (11 km) away. I didn’t pay much attention to the feeling. Having joined the Church not even one year earlier, I had little idea what the voice of the Holy Ghost felt like.
When Siou Chin was about to leave for the bus stop on her motorcycle, the same feeling came to me again, now more strongly than before, telling me that something would happen if I didn’t give her a ride. I made the terrible mistake of again ignoring the voice.
Ten minutes later, the phone rang. I was so scared I couldn’t answer it. It kept on ringing. Finally I picked it up, and the voice on the line said, “Your wife is in the hospital! Please come immediately.”
When I arrived at the hospital, I recalled the warning and deeply regretted that I hadn’t listened to the Holy Ghost. Siou Chin was in critical condition. She was unconscious. And on top of it all, she was nine months pregnant. A doctor recommended that I send her to a larger hospital in Kaohsiung that had better equipment. After weighing my options I had the impression that I should send her to that hospital without further delay. On the way to the hospital I pleaded with Heavenly Father not only for forgiveness but also that He would save my wife’s life.
An hour and 20 minutes later we arrived at the other hospital. The doctor in the emergency room ordered a CT scan, and after looking at the images, he told me Siou Chin had a skull fracture. I then found out there was no bed available in the hospital. All day long there was nothing I could do but pray for help. At 6:00 that evening I met the sister of a former classmate. She worked at the hospital, and with her help we were finally able to find an empty bed on the ninth floor. Siou Chin was still unconscious and in critical condition.
At 10:00 p.m. it dawned on me that I should ask the missionaries to give my wife a blessing. The missionaries in our branch called the elders in Kaohsiung, and 20 minutes later they arrived. But the doctor refused to allow them into my wife’s room because she had gone into labor, even though she was still in a coma. So I asked the elders to give me a blessing instead of my wife, which they did in a conference room where we would be undisturbed.
By 11:00 p.m. my wife still hadn’t delivered the baby, so the doctor decided to move her to the eighth floor for a cesarean section. Then a miracle happened. Ten minutes after they moved her, she delivered the baby. The delivery went smoothly, and when the nurse handed me the baby, I couldn’t believe my eyes. His features were exactly like the image I had seen in my prayers every night.
Seven days after our son’s birth, Siou Chin finally regained consciousness. But her mind wasn’t clear, and she suffered headaches. Her primary physician recommended that we transfer her to a university hospital for brain surgery. I was overwhelmed and prayed for guidance. After less than three minutes of pondering, I told the doctor I had decided to transfer her to another medical center, even though it meant we would have to pay all the expenses because that center was not eligible for medical coverage. This time I understood that I was being prompted by the Holy Ghost, and I was sure this decision was right.
We checked my wife into the medical center. A medical team that tours Taiwan to investigate unusual cases happened to be visiting this center. A brain surgeon who had just received special training in the United States was with the team that day. After looking at all the information, this doctor announced that my wife didn’t need surgery. He said her situation should improve within one week. I was so relieved to hear those words. I am grateful to the doctor, but most of all, I thank my Heavenly Father who directed me to make the right decision.
Just as the doctor predicted, Siou Chin was better in a week. Even the doctor marveled at how quick her recovery was. I know that with the doctors’ medical skill and with Heavenly Father’s blessings, my wife was able to miraculously survive and is now fully recovered. Our son is now serving full-time in the Taiwan Taichung Mission.

Ever since he was a little boy, David Burnell dreamed of serving his country in the military. So shortly after he returned from serving the Lord in the Canada Halifax Mission, David joined the U.S. Air Force. Now he’s not only a staff sergeant, he’s also a communications and computer specialist at Ellsworth Air Force Base in South Dakota.
The military has become an alternate route to education for many people. There are opportunities to receive training and college credit in several fields, including the ones David chose.
“I had a hard time visualizing success in going to school and being married and working all at the same time,” David said. “It scared me, so I came in the service, hoping at the same time to serve my country and maybe obtain a little bit of education. It turned out that I’ve obtained a lot.” With the help of his military training, he is close to a bachelor’s degree in the management of computer information systems at Park College in Missouri.
In high school, David was an avid pole vaulter, wrestler, and football player with a 3.3 grade point average. He took a few college prep classes and even registered twice at a junior college, but never attended. He lost his motivation when he had trouble getting the classes he wanted.
Thanks to a patriotic father, the military had always been in David’s mind. He did a summer reserve program with the Marines when he was 17 and liked it, so after his mission he decided to try the service full-time.
But life in the service can also bring unexpected challenges, like learning to deal with a new way of life and being away from your family.
“Sometimes the life-style can make you hard or callous,” David says. “It could desensitize you if you don’t study your scriptures and pray frequently and do all those things that we’re commanded to do.”
Interested? Shop around until you find the program or military school you want, and don’t sign anything until you know what you’re getting. You may have to wait a while to get into the right program, but it will be worth it. Also, know how useful it will be after you leave the service. Some training will help you get a job in the civilian world and some won’t.
“I would recommend people grabbing as much education as they can prior to coming in the military,” David says. “They would have a wider span of knowledge where they could make a better decision. Sometimes when you come in right out of school or right off a mission and you haven’t gone to school, you don’t really have the opportunity to see a whole lot of different options.”