Gospel Story Finder

Every time they saw Mehitabel, Grandpa’s friends challenged her with “Riddle me this!” and “Riddle me that!” But Mehitabel always came up with a clever answer. It began to look as though the whole summer would pass without Grandpa’s buying his friends a treat.
Then one day Mrs. Gray had a riddle poem for Mehitabel. “Riddle me this, Hitty, if you can,” she said. “Who are the people, and what is the poem the tale of?” Then she recited:
“One was in the dungeon;
One was in the street.
The lost one and the searcher—
How could they ever meet?”
Mehitabel knew at once that she was stumped. Oh, she knew that she had heard the story somewhere, But what was it about? she asked herself. And who was in the dungeon? The Little Lame Prince? No, he was in a tower, not a dungeon, and he wasn’t really lost. Robinson Crusoe? No, he was on an island, and no one was searching for him. The princess in Rumpelstiltskin? She wasn’t locked in a dungeon, and no one was searching for her, either.
Maybe it wasn’t a person, Mehitabel continued in her thoughts. Maybe it was an animal—or a thing. Yes! A thing! What does one search for? Gold? She sighed with relief. She may not have Mrs. Gray’s answer, but at least she had one. She turned to Grandpa’s friend and said. “The lost one in the dungeon was gold in a mine. The searcher was the miner who was trying to pan the gold from a stream.”
Grandpa chuckled. He had been worried for a minute, but Mehitabel had done it again.
However, Mrs. Gray said, “You’ve given a very good answer, Hitty, but I think even your grandpa will admit that the better answer comes from history.” She smiled at Mehitabel and said, “The one in the dungeon was King Richard the Lionhearted. The searcher was his minstrel, Blondel.”
Grandpa nodded. “Yes, that’s right. I know the story—King Richard was captured by the duke of Austria and locked in a castle on the Danube River. I’d forgotten that old story. You stumped her fair and square, Mrs. Gray. And I’m happy to pay up.”
Grandpa called to the ice-cream vendor and motioned for him to come over. “Let each of my friends choose the flavor of ice-cream cone he wants. The treat’s on me today!”
Carlos Sanchez wanted blueberry. Mrs. Gray asked for vanilla. Mr. Loomis’s favorite was cherry marshmallow. Grandpa said, “I’ll have peppermint. What about you, Mehitabel?”
Mehitabel looked hard at the ice-cream vendor. “I’ll have black mud,” she said.
“Mud!” shouted Grandpa.
“Mud?” yelled Grandpa’s friends.
The ice-cream vendor didn’t bat an eye. He took an empty cone and filled it with something that looked exactly like mud. Handing it to Mehitabel, he grinned and said, “I guessed your riddle, young lady. That’s licorice ice cream!”
Grandpa shook his head, chuckling. “That Mehitabel!”

President Baudin describes his second voyage to Taenga as one of the most unforgettable experiences of his mission. President Temanu had come to get him, and soon after they left Makemo, stormy weather set in, with the wind and waves buffeting the boat through the waters and altering its course. “Imagine my concern,” relates President Baudin, “when after six hours there was still no land in sight.
“Suddenly, President Temanu stood and pointed with his finger and calmly stated that the island was in that direction. Almost immediately, the wind died and the sea became calm, and as if they had come to greet us and guide us to the pass in the reef, dozens of dolphins appeared, leaping out of the water in front of the boat. As if this weren’t impressive enough, we also saw a whale some thirty meters to the side, spouting water and unhurriedly keeping pace with our forward movement.”

At age 71, Janet (names have been changed) remarried. She and her new husband were on their honeymoon when he got upset at her. Janet recalls, “I had never had anyone talk to me like that.” She was distraught and horrified.

Over time her husband’s anger escalated. Yelling turned into swearing, name calling, and personal attacks on Janet’s character. He claimed that she was making her friends and family more important than him.

“It wasn’t true,” she says. “But to keep peace, I distanced myself from them. I started to cancel on friends. I’d say I didn’t feel good.”

“Whatever I did, it wasn’t enough for him,” she says. “I started to blame myself for his anger and think, ‘If only I hadn’t done this or that.’ I began wondering if I was a bad person like he said I was.”

She asked herself questions like, “If I’m worthwhile, then why did I pick this person? And why do I let him talk to me like that? Should I have seen the signs?” He had been so kind, attentive, and loving when they were dating.

“I got so depressed,” she remembers. She began thinking it would be better if she got sick and died so she didn’t have to divorce him. She had been married once before and couldn’t face another failed marriage.

“It would have been good if I had talked to someone,” she says, “but I was too embarrassed. And I knew they would tell me to leave him. I didn’t want the marriage to end and didn’t want to be alone again. So I kept hoping things would change, and I kept justifying his behavior.”

After three years of trying to make her marriage work, Janet filed for divorce and moved in temporarily with one of her children. “Those first days and weeks were the hardest,” she remembers. She poured her heart out in prayer and was dedicated to reading the Book of Mormon daily, along with comforting conference talks.

She continued regular church attendance, saw a professional therapist, and received helpful spiritual counsel from her bishop. “The therapist was very helpful, and I felt so much better after talking to my bishop,” she says.

A friend suggested that she recite her favorite scriptures out loud and declare all the good things that she wanted to have in her life. Janet did that faithfully, memorizing the scriptures that inspired her. Two of her favorites were:

“Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest” (Joshua 1:9).

“Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness” (Isaiah 41:10).

She found strength in knowing that it is the Savior’s mission “to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, … to set at liberty them that are bruised” (Luke 4:18; emphasis added).

Testifying of that healing mission of the Savior, Elder Patrick Kearon of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles assured victims of abuse:
“From the depths of His atoning suffering, the Savior imparts hope you thought was lost forever, strength you believed you could never possess, and healing you couldn’t imagine was possible. …
“… With arms outstretched, the Savior offers the gift of healing to you. With courage, patience, and faithful focus on Him, before too long you can come to fully accept this gift.”

After experiencing some unexpected financial obligations as a single woman, I knew I needed to find a second job. Soon afterward, Marty, a sister in my ward, approached me and asked for my help. She and her husband were going on a mission, so she had to give up her job. She explained that every Saturday she helped an elderly woman, Ruth, who lived in an assisted-living complex. Marty offered me her job and told me that Ruth would pay me for my work.
The following Monday, Marty and Ruth explained my tasks, and I began my work a few days later. I started by gathering Ruth’s laundry and carrying it upstairs to the laundry room. Soon after I began, Ruth rushed in and shouted at me. She told me that I was never to wash her clothes without first asking.
I was doing only what she and Marty had asked me to do. Frustrated and hurt, I fought back the tears. I told myself that I didn’t need any more stress or problems in my life. I would have walked out that very moment had I not promised Marty that I would care for Ruth while she was away.
Week after week Ruth shouted angrily at me over everything I did. It seemed that I could never please her no matter how hard I tried.
I started praying for strength to endure Ruth and her harsh words, but nothing changed. I continued to resent having to help her.
Then one day I changed my prayers. I stopped praying for myself and started praying for Ruth. I asked Heavenly Father to help me understand her needs and how I could help her.
From that day forward everything changed. My heart softened, and my love for Ruth grew. Ruth changed as well. She opened up and shared her life, her joys, and her sorrows. She told me she missed her family. She told me of the wonderful things she had done in her past but could no longer do. She told me she was lonely and sad.
I began to look forward to seeing Ruth each week, and she looked forward to seeing me.
My experience with Ruth taught me a valuable lesson. When I truly served with my whole heart, I came to understand President Spencer W. Kimball’s (1895–1985) teaching that “in the midst of the miracle of serving, there is the promise of Jesus, that by losing ourselves, we find ourselves” (“Small Acts of Service,” Ensign, Dec. 1974, 2).

Sister Holland spoke of another very memorable experience that became “a real turning point in my life.” She said, “My parents had allowed me to come to Salt Lake City and live with a group of girls for the summer while I worked. They were all about my age. We had many happy times together, but in our apartment at one time we felt despondency and discouragement, and I remember feeling it so strongly one day that I decided to fast and pray about how to be happy, how to find the peace and security and confidence that a person needs. That evening my roommates and I decided to go to a movie. We first went to a grocery store to get some treats to take with us. At the store we pulled our car in right next to Elder ElRay L. Christiansen, then an Assistant to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. He walked right over to our car. He chatted with each one of us. He seemed very interested and asked us our names. I was so excited, I couldn’t believe this was happening to me.”
As if she were reliving that experience and sensing again the impact of that memorable occasion, she bore testimony: “Just before Elder Christiansen got ready to leave, he paused, looked right at me, and said, ‘Pat, the only way to be happy is to be obedient.’”
There was silence for a moment, each pondering the magnitude of this simple counsel and the direct answer to fervent prayer. She recalled her feelings on that occasion, “First of all, just to see a General Authority was a highlight in my life. It was the first time I had ever had any personal contact with Church leaders like that.”
This young girl, anxious to find the right answers and inspired by the counsel of a General Authority, had no way of knowing then that later, as the wife of Jeffrey Holland, former Church Commissioner of Education and now President of Brigham Young University, she would find herself in close and frequent association with many of the General Authorities. “To have my prayers answered so directly was another turning point in my life,” she said. “I realized right then and there that truly the greatest thing that I could cling to, the only way to be confident and happy, is to be obedient and live by the Spirit.”
While yet a teenager she discovered “there is just no substitute for obedience.” While obedience had not been a struggle for Pat, still the impact of receiving such an immediate and direct answer to her earnest supplication, and to receive it from one of the Lord’s chosen servants, a General Authority in person, was just more than she had ever hoped for.

Jane Manning watched the boat float from the harbor out to Lake Erie. She felt like her dreams were floating away with it.
Just one year ago, she had joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and decided to move to be with the other Saints in Nauvoo. Her mother and seven other family members had traveled with her down the Erie Canal to Buffalo, New York. But in Buffalo, they weren’t allowed on the boat because of the color of their skin.
“What do we do now?” her brother, Isaac, asked quietly.
The question echoed in the frosty air. Nauvoo was still 800 miles (1,287 km) away. They could give up and head home, or try to travel later. …
But Jane couldn’t wait! She knew the Book of Mormon was true. God once again spoke through prophets. She needed to get to Nauvoo with her family.
Jane squared her shoulders and looked westward. “We walk.”
And walk they did. Until their shoes wore out. Until their feet cracked and bled and they had to pray to be healed. Sometimes they slept outside, and the frost was so heavy it felt like falling snow. Some people threatened to put them in jail, thinking that they were escaped slaves. They didn’t know that the Mannings were a free black family. And still they walked, singing hymns to pass the time.
They were nearing Nauvoo when they reached a river.
“No bridge,” Isaac said.
Jane nodded. “We’ll just have to walk through it, then.” As she stepped into the river, the water came up to her ankles. Slowly, she inched forward. The water swirled up to her knees and then past her waist. By the time she reached the middle of the stream, the water came up to her neck! Luckily, it didn’t get deeper, and all the Mannings crossed safely.
At last they came to Nauvoo. Jane could see the beautiful limestone walls of the Nauvoo Temple on a hill overlooking the valley. Even though it wasn’t finished yet, it took her breath away. Someone directed them to the house where the Prophet Joseph lived.
A tall, dark-haired woman stood in the doorway. “Come in, come in!” she called. “I’m Emma Smith.”
The next few minutes were a blur. Jane met the Prophet, and he set up chairs around the room for all the Mannings. Jane sank into the chair gratefully and listened as Joseph introduced them to everyone there, including his friend Dr. Bernhisel. Then Joseph turned to Jane. “You have been the head of this little band, haven’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, sir!” answered Jane.
Joseph smiled. “God bless you! Now I would like to hear about your travels.”
Jane told about their injured feet and sleeping in the snow and crossing the river. Everyone listened quietly. “But it wasn’t terrible,” she finished. “We went on our way rejoicing, singing hymns and thanking God for His infinite goodness and mercy to us in blessing us, protecting us, and healing our feet.”
Jane Manning lived with Emma and Joseph Smith for several months. She married Isaac James, and they were among the early settlers of Utah Valley. She remained a faithful member of the Church even though she faced many challenges. When she died in 1908, President Joseph F. Smith (1838–1918) spoke at her funeral.
There was silence for a moment. “What do you think of that, Doctor?” Joseph finally said, slapping the man’s knee. “Isn’t that faith?”
“If it had been me, I fear I should have backed out and returned to my home!” Dr. Bernhisel admitted.
Joseph nodded and turned back to Jane and her family: “God bless you. You are among friends.”

Thirty years ago, while I served as a missionary in the Near East, my companion and I were assigned to visit a branch that had been torn apart by division and apostasy. We approached our assignment humbly and prayerfully. A crucial meeting was held involving the disaffected parties. My companion was selected to preach the sermon that we hoped would bring everyone together again. After we had fasted and prayed earnestly, he stood with confidence and worked the miracle. He spoke with the tongue of an angel. That young, inexperienced elder’s words healed wounds festering in the hearts of men much older than he, prompted confessions, and literally saved a branch of the Church.

When I was teaching sixth grade a number of years ago, a 14-year-old boy dressed in gang attire was marched into my classroom. He was two years older and four years larger than the other 30 students. Quickly I discovered Brian did not read, had not attended school with any regularity, and had lived with a variety of guardians in a number of cities.
Report card time was coming up, and I came to school on my day off to finish recording the children’s work and mark the report cards. As I entered the classroom to gather up the records, I could see Brian had the class in an upheaval. I suggested to my grateful coteacher that I would take Brian with me. With some first-grade primers filled with pictures, we headed to the library, talking a little football on the way.
We settled ourselves at a table where I was marking report cards. I asked him if he had ever had a report card.
He shook his head and said, “No.” I asked if he would like a report card.
He looked directly at me. “Only if it said I was a good boy.”
I made out a special card for him, emphasizing his strengths. I wrote his full name on it and his ability to include everyone and make people laugh. I specifically mentioned his love of sports. It was not a traditional report card but seemed to please him. Not too long after that, Brian disappeared from our school, and the last I heard of him, he was living in another state. I hoped he had my report card saying that he was a good boy in his pocket, wherever he was.

As someone with major depressive disorder and obsessive-compulsive disorder, I faced this reality for many years. I didn’t know how the Spirit felt. When my symptoms became bad during college, I ended up in the hospital for a week.
During those dark times inside my mind, I wondered how these illnesses would help me in the long run. How would God use this troubling experience for my good? What purpose did He have for me in giving me this trial?
I asked for priesthood blessings during this time, and there was always one sentence I heard repeatedly: “God has given you the resources to overcome this trial.” Having faith that He would lead me to what I needed in order to heal, I decided to trust my doctors. Little by little, I got the help I needed. Over time, I shared my mental health journey online.
Soon afterward, I began receiving messages from my male friends, asking about my mental health and sharing their similar thoughts and feelings. They asked me for help to know how to fight their numbness. At first I was surprised.
In many cultures, men are expected to always appear strong and never reveal their emotions. That makes it hard for them to admit they need help, and they often suffer in silence.
When this happened for the third time, I realized that my trials had prepared me to help. All those dark moments, all those therapy sessions, all my prayers, and all my efforts to exercise faith as I sought heavenly help taught me to recognize when others are facing similar trials and how to point them toward help.
I have learned the truth of these words from Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles: “If you had appendicitis, God would expect you to seek a priesthood blessing and get the best medical care available. So too with emotional disorders. Our Father in Heaven expects us to use all of the marvelous gifts He has provided in this glorious dispensation.”1

Ian Bagley’s family had been taking pictures on a lookout point at the Grand Canyon’s North Rim for just five minutes when they heard screaming. A two year-old girl, while looking over the railing, had fallen 35 feet to a ledge below. Her parents desperately searched for a way to save their daughter, while onlookers stood stunned. Not understanding the pleadings of her parents and family to stay still, her effort to climb back up resulted in her slipping further down until she was five feet from the next drop off—this one a terrifying 200 feet.

Ian describes the feeling as “pure shock,” but he is no ordinary 19-year-old. Having been trained in emergency response through an EMT program at a community college, Ian knew how to handle the situation.

He says, “Immediately, it all came at me, and I just knew what I had to do. I set down my camera and went up the trail a little ways where it wasn’t as steep, climbed over the rail, scrambled down a bunch of rocks and through brush, and found her.” Holding her in his arms for an hour, Ian waited until emergency teams could drop down with ropes. Ian’s mother, waiting at the top, remembers seeing the little girl and her son as they ascended with the help of rescuers. “I could see blond hair and a tiny face among all of the emergency equipment, and she held her hand out and it was wrapped around Ian’s two fingers.”

Before going, Ian, from the Fort Collins Colorado Stake, didn’t know why he decided to go with his family to the Grand Canyon, but afterwards he was sure he was there for a reason. He says, “I didn’t have a reason, I just felt like I should go. I was there, and I was able to save someone’s life.”

Ian felt lucky that he was there to help, but even more, he was grateful that multiple experiences had prepared him to do so. Training in the EMT program, for example, taught him to stay calm and manage risks. He says the program involves not only rigorous course work, but training that put him in emergency situations with fire trucks and ambulances. And then, after all the studying and training, he had to pass both a statewide and national test with written and practical sections.

Participating in the Boy Scouts for seven years, including two summers as a Boy Scout camp counselor, also provided Ian with valuable knowledge. He says that the motto “Be prepared” helped him realize that at every moment, he needs to be ready to offer help.

But Ian cites a more important preparation: “Knowing that there is a plan, and Heavenly Father put me there for a specific purpose. We hadn’t been there longer than five minutes, and it started happening. That really convinced me that I was supposed to be there.”

By using his skills before his full-time service, Ian is acting as a missionary now. His mother says that “even before he is called on his mission, he’s had a chance to be a missionary.” Local newspapers and news stations covering the event mention a two-year mission for the Church. In addition to all the inquiries in the community about his future mission, Ian received a letter from a state government official thanking him for his service and wishing him well on his mission.

While Ian walked away from the incident with a plaque and a medal from the National Park Service, worth even more is his testimony of the gospel. “I know there is a plan for everyone and there is a purpose for all things. Our Savior saves us in so many more ways than I could ever save someone else.”

When I was just a young girl, I became seriously ill. Each day the illness became increasingly severe. Nothing the doctor recommended helped. At that time the dreaded disease of polio was raging in almost epidemic proportions in the land. It was taking the lives of many, and those who didn’t die were often left crippled.
One night my illness became critical, and my father and grandfather administered to me using consecrated oil, and through the power of the holy Melchizedek Priesthood, which they held worthily, they called upon God for healing, help, guidance, and comfort. And then my parents took me to a doctor in another town who immediately sent us to the hospital—two and one-half hours away—with the admonition to hurry. I overheard the doctor whisper that he was certain it was polio.
When we finally arrived at the hospital in Salt Lake, there were medical personnel waiting for us. They grabbed me from my parents’ arms and whisked me away. Without a word of good-bye or explanation, we were separated. I was all alone, and I thought I was going to die.
Following the painful diagnostic procedures, including a spinal tap, they took me to a hospital isolation room, where I would stay by myself with the hope that I would not infect anyone else, for indeed I did have polio.
I remember how very frightened I was. It was dark, and I was so sick and so alone. But my parents had taught me to pray. I got on my knees, and I knelt beside the railing in the criblike bed and asked Heavenly Father to bless me. I was crying, I remember. Heavenly Father heard my prayer and sent His comforting power, which enveloped me in quiet love. I felt the power of the Holy Ghost, and I was not alone.
You too are loved by the Lord. You are loved more than you will ever know. He wants you to be successful in your life’s mission! You don’t have to face the experiences of this life alone, nor have you been sent here to fail.

Not long after, it was time to serve a mission. I received my call to the Ghana Cape Coast Mission. I proudly shared the news with my family, and they were happy for me, and I thought all was well with the family about my decision to serve. But a few days before mission, my family was still opposed to my decision and requested that I postpone my mission instead of leaving in December 2019, to go in 2020. It became evident that my family was unhappy with my decision to go on a mission. I knew that the God I serve lives, He knows me, and He had called me to serve Him and that the time is now or never.
I needed to make a choice between my family and my mission. I was stuck, but I prayed fervently and amidst all that was happening, I stood firm with unwavering and unshakable faith knowing that He can see me through those trying moments.
The Lord comforted me at that time, and I knew that I was not alone, and He was there for me. I felt at peace even though things had not been settled between me and my family and with less than 24 hours left, the family accepted my decision to go and serve and I was able to leave for my mission. My family has embraced my service and I am happily serving my mission with love and a cheerful heart, knowing that all things are possible with God if we look unto Him in every thought, fearing not and doubting not with faith that whatever you ask you will receive.

“Some two or three years after I was baptized, one day while I was studying, I began to reflect upon the fact that I had not obtained a knowledge of the truth of that work—that I had not realized the fulfillment of that promise, he that doeth my will shall know of the doctrine, (see John 7:17) and I began to feel very uneasy. I laid aside my books, left the house, and wandered around through the fields under the oppressive influence of a gloomy, disconsolate spirit, while an indescribable cloud of darkness seemed to envelop me. I had been accustomed, at the close of day, to go for secret prayer, to a grove a short distance from my lodgings, but at this time I felt no inclination to do so. The spirit of prayer had departed and the heavens seemed like brass over my head. At length, realizing that the usual time had come for secret prayer, I concluded I would not forgo my evening service, and, as a matter of formality, knelt as I was in the habit of doing, and in my accustomed place, but no feeling as I was used to feeling. I had no sooner opened my lips in an effort to pray, than I heard a sound, just above my head, like the rustling of silken robes, and immediately the spirit of God descended upon me, completely enveloping my whole person, filling me from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, and O the joy and happiness I felt! No language can describe the almost instantaneous transition from a dense cloud of mental and spiritual darkness into a refulgence of light and knowledge that God lives, that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and of the restoration of the Holy Priesthood, and the fullness of the Gospel. It was a complete baptism—a tangible immersion in the heavenly principle or element, the Holy Ghost; and even more real and physical in its affects upon every part of my system than the immersion by water; dispelling forever, so long as reason and memory last, all possibility of doubt or fear in relation to the fact handed down to us historically that the ‘babe of Bethlehem’ is truly the Son of God; and also the fact that He is now being revealed to the children of men, and communicating knowledge, the same as in the apostolic times. I was perfectly satisfied, as well I might be, for my expectations were more than realized; I think I may safely say, in an infinite degree.
“I cannot tell how long I remained in the full flow of the blissful enjoyment and divine enlightenment, but it was several minutes before the celestial element which filled and surrounded me began gradually to withdraw. On arising from my kneeling posture, with my heart swelling with gratitude to God, beyond the power of expression, I felt—I knew that he had conferred on me what only an omnipotent being can confer—that which is of greater value than all the wealth and honors the world can bestow. That night as I retired to rest, the same wonderful manifestations were repeated, and continued to be for several successive nights. The sweet remembrance of those glorious experiences, from that time to the present, brings them fresh before me, imparting an inspiring influence which pervades my whole being, and I trust will to the close of my earthly existence.” (Preston Nibley, The Presidents of the Church (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1974), Chapter 5, paragraphs 10–12, pp. 139–140.)
Lorenzo Snow

Some people think immediately of the lost 116 manuscript pages whenever they hear the name “Martin Harris.” After all, he pressed Joseph Smith time and again to ask God if Martin could show the pages to his family (see D&C 3:12–13). But Martin’s story doesn’t end there.

Martin repented and continued supporting the Prophet Joseph, including financing the original publication of the Book of Mormon. President Dallin H. Oaks described that single act as “one of Martin Harris’s greatest contributions to the Church, for which he should be honored for all time.”1

His story continues. Martin was chosen as one of the three special witnesses of the Book of Mormon. Yet even with this experience (which took place after the 116 pages were lost), Martin had to overcome failure.

To set the scene, Joseph Smith entered the woods with Martin Harris, David Whitmer, and Oliver Cowdery. They were acting on revelation that the time had come for witnesses to see the sacred plates. Each man took turns praying to be shown the plates. Nothing happened. They each prayed again … still nothing.

Joseph Smith wrote, “Upon this, our second failure, Martin Harris proposed that he should withdraw himself from us, believing, as he expressed himself, that his presence was the cause of our not obtaining what we wished for.”2

Sure enough, not long after Martin left, the angel Moroni appeared and revealed the plates to David Whitmer and Oliver Cowdery. But if you read the Testimony of the Three Witnesses, you’ll see Martin’s name right alongside the other two. How so?

Because Martin didn’t give up.

He retreated further into the woods and kept praying. When Joseph found him later, Martin pleaded with Joseph to pray with him again. This time, Martin’s faith was rewarded with the same vision the others had seen. “’Tis enough; ’tis enough; mine eyes have beheld,” Martin said.3

Though Martin Harris faded in and out of Church activity in later years (finally fully returning to the Church community at age 87), he never once faded in his testimony of the Book of Mormon nor what he had witnessed in the woods.

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

Steve Pokere is famous in New Zealand. A star of the All Blacks, the legendary national rugby team, he won glory for New Zealand all around the world.
Now he plays a more important role. He is the father of Steven (9) and Marilyn (7) as well as their sisters, Emma (13) and Anne-Maree (14). They live in Invercargill, a pleasant coastal city near the bottom of the south island.
Steven and Marilyn each have enough energy to power all of Invercargill, if only they could be hooked up properly. Steven enjoys sports of all kinds, especially rugby, running, and cricket. He has great skill with any ball of any shape and size, and he often practices rugby with his dad. He is learning the fine points of passing and sidestepping from the master. A fierce competitor, Steven plays fair but plays to win, and he plans to be an All Black like his father someday.
Steven has attended several All-Blacks matches with his dad. One of the highlights of his life was going to a match in Dunedin, where he met the whole team and watched a practice. He came away with a treasure trove of autographs and had a nice visit with his favorite player, Geoff Wilson.
Steven also enjoys camping, hunting, and fishing with his dad. He states emphatically that he does not enjoy being the only boy in the family, because he gets picked on by the girls—a charge his sisters deny.
Steven is good with tools and loves to build things. One day his parents came home and found that he had cut the middle limbs out of a beautiful young tree in order to construct a tree house. “When we drove up and saw the branches on the driveway we said, ‘Oh no!’” his dad recalls. “But now we look back and laugh and have joy in seeing what he created. It’s all part of being a family.”
One year when the family had a bountiful garden, Stephen set up a little table on the curb and sold tomatoes and cucumbers. “He earned thirteen dollars and came back in with a worldwide grin,” Brother Pokere says. The young businessman immediately set aside money for his tithing.
Marilyn is an outgoing girl and a champion at making friends. She can name twenty or thirty of them before pausing for breath, and then go on naming. Everyone she meets becomes an instant “old friend.” She doesn’t feel shy about talking to anyone, whether it’s a child or an adult. She is so friendly that the rule against talking to strangers is a hard one for her to remember. She is a caring person who is a good friend to all her friends.
For an independent girl like Marilyn, it’s sometimes hard being the youngest, because she feels ready to do anything anyone else can do. She enjoys swimming, riding her bike, jumping on the trampoline, and cooking, especially potatoes, meat, and cabbage. She likes going to the beach, where she digs holes and makes sand castles. Unfortunately, the water is far too cold for swimming. She is a fast runner and plans to compete in athletics (track and field). She and Steven are both sorry that so many competitions in New Zealand are held on Sunday, because they refuse to compete on the Sabbath.
A good dancer, Marilyn isn’t a bit afraid of performing in front of an audience. Her older sisters are dancers, too, and they make up little dance routines to do with her. Marilyn is an avid reader who prefers books that are funny. Her favorite is Silly Willy. She hopes to be a librarian and live surrounded by books. In the meantime, she studies hard and gets good grades.
Steven doesn’t always study quite so hard. His heart just isn’t in it yet. “He says, ‘I’m going to be an All Black, so what does school matter?’” his mother, Lesley, reports, “but I tell him, ‘you’ll have contracts to read, and if you can’t read them, somebody might cheat you.’” Steven is thinking it over.
Both Steven and Marilyn love climbing trees. Steven climbs up to the very top and swings like a monkey, frightening his parents.
The Pokeres like to go places together. Sometimes they visit beautiful Queen Park in Invercargill, where Steven and Marilyn stress-test every piece of equipment in the large playground. Sometimes the family travels to scenic locations such as Queenstown, Alexandria, or Bluff. Bluff is on the very bottom of New Zealand (except for a few small islands) and has a signpost on a cliff above the sea, pointing different directions to the major cities of the world.
Brother Pokere is the branch president. Although the children think of him as Dad, not as President Pokere, they have learned about service and responsibility by seeing him serve others. Emma and Anne-Maree have taken it upon themselves to serve by befriending the less active teenagers in the branch.
Brother Pokere’s personal experiences are an inspiration to his children. In 1978 he was about to be selected for the All Blacks—his lifetime goal. Instead, he accepted a mission call. Some fans thought he was crazy, but many admired his devotion to his religion. He returned in 1980 and became an All Black in 1981.
He has passed on many of the lessons he learned in rugby to his children. One of these is the importance of preparing themselves to achieve their dreams. “A lot goes into preparation that fans aren’t aware of. You’re out there slogging your heart out in practice. Your lungs are popping while everyone else is inside next to the fire. It’s the price of success. And once you reach the top, it doesn’t give you the right to remain there. It’s a continuous thing that you have to keep working on.”
The family applies these principles in their everyday lives. “We often have family sessions to evaluate where we are and to set goals,” Brother Pokere explains. “For example, we set a goal never to raise our voices in the home, and that includes parents. If we want somebody who’s not nearby, we go and get them—we don’t yell. We’ve really noticed a difference, especially when tempers are starting to rise. If you can maintain that level of reverence in your speech, it makes a huge difference. Of course, it doesn’t take the younger ones long to forget, but they’re trying, and that’s what matters. They’re good children, and they bring us a lot of joy.”
If people were punctuation marks, Steven and Marilyn would be two bold exclamation points!! What a great way to live!

“Tom? You got a minute?” Five-year-old Kevin stood outside his brother’s door.
“Sure, Kevin. Come on in,” Tom answered, looking up from his studies.
Kevin hurried to where Tom sat. “Tom, do you have to go to school tomorrow?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because tomorrow is your birthday!” Kevin protested.
“That doesn’t matter. Besides, I have a test.”
“Oh.” Kevin hesitated. “Tom, do you know any secrets?”
“No, I can’t say that I do,” Tom answered, his eyes lit with amusement.
“I do,” said Kevin smugly, “but I can’t tell you, ‘cause it’s a surprise!”
“Yeah?” Tom asked, eyeing Kevin with affection.
“Yeah,” Kevin answered. His eyes searched Tom’s. “Tom, if somebody made you a picture with lots of horses on it, do you think you would like it?”
“I sure would!”
“Better than a silver belt buckle with your initial on it?” Kevin asked hopefully.
“Lots better,” Tom replied vigorously.
“Better than a pair of real cowboy boots?”
“Yep,” Tom answered. He pointed at the wall facing his bed. “If I had a picture like that, I’d hang it right there so I could see it first thing every morning.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Tom said, ruffling Kevin’s hair.
“What’s your favorite kind of cake, Tom?”
“I don’t know, Kevin. Got any suggestions?”
“Chocolate! With fudge icing!”
“Is that your favorite?” Tom asked, still smiling.
“Yeah!”
“Then it’s mine too.”
“Tom?” Kevin rubbed his eyes sleepily.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think I’ll ever get as big as you?”
“Not if you don’t get to bed. It’s way past your bedtime.”
“Will you carry me piggyback, Tom?”
“Sure.”
After Kevin was tucked snugly into his bed, Tom turned to leave.
“Tom?” Kevin called.
“Yeah?”
“I love you,” Kevin said.
“I love you, too, Kev.”
“Night, Tom.”
“Good night, Kevin.”
Kevin was still sleeping when Tom left for school the next morning. When he returned home, Kevin was waiting for him on the front steps. He tugged at Tom’s hand. “Hurry, Tom!”
“What’s the rush?”
“Come and see!” Kevin skipped as he led Tom inside the house.
Fifteen candles burned brightly on a chocolate fudge cake resting in the center of the table. Tom and Kevin’s parents came from the kitchen singing “Happy Birthday.”
“Surprise! Surprise!” Kevin yelled, jumping up and down.
“Wow!” Tom said happily.
Kevin helped Tom blow out the candles on the cake; then Tom opened his packages. He was very happy to get cowboy boots and a silver belt buckle with his initial on it from his parents. He saved Kevin’s gift for last.
Inside the package was a large white poster board. Several pictures of horses, cut from magazines, were glued to it. “This is terrific, Kevin!” Tom said, smiling.
“I made it all by myself!”
“Will you help me hang it in my room?” Tom asked.
“Yeah! Are you going to hang it in front of your bed so that you can see it first thing every morning?” Kevin asked anxiously.
“You bet!”
“Surprises are a lot of fun, huh, Tom?”
“Yeah,” Tom said, picking Kevin up and swinging him through the air. “Surprises are great!”

President James E. Faust (1920–2007), Second Counselor in the First Presidency, once told of applying for Officer’s Candidate School in the United States Army. He said:
“I was summoned before the board of inquiry. My qualifications were few, but I had had two years of college and had finished a mission for the Church in South America.
“The questions asked of me at the officers’ board of inquiry took a very surprising turn. Nearly all of them centered upon my beliefs. ‘Do you smoke?’ ‘Do you drink?’ ‘What do you think of others who smoke and drink?’ I had no trouble answering these questions.
“‘Do you pray?’ ‘Do you believe that an officer should pray?’ The officer asking these questions was a hard-bitten career soldier. He did not look like he prayed very often. … I wanted to be an officer very much. …
“I decided not to equivocate. I admitted that I did pray and that I felt that officers might seek divine guidance as some truly great generals had done. …
“More interesting questions came. ‘In times of war, should not the moral code be relaxed? Does not the stress of battle justify men in doing things that they would not do when at home under normal situations?’
“… I suspected that the men who were asking me this question did not live by the standards that I had been taught. The thought flashed through my mind that perhaps I could say that I had my own beliefs, but I did not wish to impose them on others. But there seemed to flash before my mind the faces of the many people to whom I had taught the law of chastity as a missionary. In the end I simply said, ‘I do not believe there is a double standard of morality.’
“I left the hearing resigned to the fact that these hard-bitten officers would … surely score me very low. A few days later when the scores were posted, to my astonishment I had passed. I was in the first group taken for Officer’s Candidate School!”
And then President Faust, realizing how small decisions can have large consequences, said, “This was one of the critical crossroads of my life.”4

When Brigham was a youngster, all his friends wore hats, whether they were working, playing, fishing, or going to church. Brigham also wanted a hat, but he knew that his family had no money for one.
So Brigham learned how to braid straw and make his own hats! He wore his homemade hats during the summer when it was hot.
When it got colder, he wore a warmer hat that his sisters made for him. They called it a “Jo Jackson cap.”

Deanna’s CTR B teacher held up a picture. “Does anyone know what this is?”
Deanna raised her hand. “The temple.”
Sister Dench smiled. “That’s right. Do you know which temple it is, Deanna?”
“The Denver Temple.” Deanna knew because her mother had hung a picture of it in their home.
“Why do you think Heavenly Father wants us to have temples?”
Mark raised his hand. “So that we can do baptisms for the dead.”
Danny said, “Families can be sealed there.”
“Those are both good reasons,” Sister Dench said. “What can you do now to prepare to go to the temple?”
“Pay our tithing.”
“Go to church.”
“Be honest.”
Sister Dench nodded after each answer. “During the week, I’d like each of you to think of other ways you can prepare to go to the temple.”
Deanna thought a lot about her Primary lesson that afternoon. She wanted to go to the temple someday. On the last Friday of each month, her parents drove to Denver to attend it. When they came home, they always seemed extra happy. They smiled at each other in a special way that made Deanna feel happy too.
She was imagining her own temple wedding, when five-year-old Robbie asked, “Can I use your crayons? I want to draw a picture for Grandma.”
Deanna frowned. “You broke one the last time I let you use them.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“I don’t care. You can’t use them.”
Robbie turned away, but not before Deanna saw a tear roll down his cheek. She tried to ignore the stab of guilt she felt.
As she helped set the table for dinner that evening, Deanna told her mother about her Primary lesson. “How else can I prepare to go to the temple?” she asked, glancing at the picture of it on the dining room wall.
Her mother placed a casserole dish on the table. She didn’t answer Deanna’s question but asked, instead, “Do you know why Robbie was crying this afternoon?”
Deanna was surprised. Usually her mother wanted to talk about her Primary lesson. “I wouldn’t let him borrow my crayons,” she said reluctantly. “The last time he used them, he broke one.”
“He’s still learning how to color,” her mother said. “You could help him.”
“Are you going to make me share?”
“No, but I hope that someday you’ll want to. One thing we learn in the temple is how important families are.”
Deanna thought about that the rest of the evening. After school the next day, she noticed that three-year-old Kevin had messed up the jigsaw puzzle she’d been putting together. It had five hundred pieces, and it had taken her a long time to do as much as she had.
She started to yell at him, then remembered her Primary lesson. “It’s all right, Kevin,” she said. “I know you just wanted to help me with it.” She went to his room and found a simple wooden puzzle. “Here, I’ll show you how to work this one.” She spent an hour helping Kevin fit the pieces of his puzzle together over and over again.
After dinner, she took her box of crayons to Robbie’s room. “Do you still want to use these?”
He nodded eagerly. She sat down beside him and helped him with his picture.
For the rest of the week, she tried hard to help her brothers. Sometimes they still annoyed her, but they also made her smile—like when Kevin planted a big kiss on her cheek, and when Robbie threw his arms around her and said, “You’re the bestest big sister in the world!”
“How many of you remember what we talked about last week?” Sister Dench asked on Sunday.
Everyone raised his hand.
“What are some ways you thought of that we can prepare now to go to the temple?” she asked.
“Obey the Word of Wisdom,” Danny said.
“Keep the Sabbath Day holy,” Janet volunteered.
“Those are both good ways,” Sister Dench agreed. “Does anyone else have any other ideas?”
Deanna raised her hand. “Be nice to my brothers.” Someone snickered, and she ducked her head in embarrassment.
When she raised her head, she saw that Sister Dench was smiling. “Thank you, Deanna. That’s one of the most important things we can do to prepare to go to the temple.”
“Why is it so important?” Danny asked.
“The temple is about families. How do you think Jesus feels when we can’t get along with our brothers and sisters?”
“He probably feels sad,” Danny said.
“I think you’re right. Jesus wants us to treat our families here the way we’ll treat them in heaven.”
Deanna remembered Robbie’s hug and Kevin’s kiss. She could hardly wait for Primary to be over so that she could tell them how much she loved them.