Gospel Story Finder

It’s a gray, drizzly Saturday morning, but the children of the Danbury Connecticut Ward aren’t in their pajamas watching cartoons or playing video games. They’re busy making videos of their own. And their videos will help thousands of people learn about the Book of Mormon!
It all started when their bishop had a great idea. Bishop Summerhays is a media expert who teaches children from many countries how to use technology to create positive messages. Why not teach the children in his ward the same thing?
Now the children, joined by children from the Newtown Ward, are sitting at five long tables in the Primary room. Stacks of construction paper and poster board, pens, and scissors are on the tables. Each group will be making an animated video of a different Book of Mormon story:
Lehi’s Dream
The Journey to the Promised Land
Jesus Visits the Nephites
Korihor
Moroni Buries the Gold Plates
Step 1: First the children think about how they will tell their story. They draw scenes on special paper called “storyboards.” Close-up scenes show people’s emotions. Long-distance scenes show background and setting. In-between ones show action.
Step 2: Now everyone draws figures on construction paper. They draw arms and legs separately so the figures will be able to move. They also draw eyes open and shut and mouths in different shapes. Then they cut out the figures, which are called “puppets.”
Step 3: Finally the animation begins. A digital camera on a tripod is focused on a piece of poster board—the background for a scene. The camera is attached to a computer.
One group is shooting a battle scene between the Nephites and the Lamanites. Each child is in charge of two or three puppets. The children arrange their puppets on the poster board. Then someone hits the space bar on the computer. Flash! The first frame of the video is shot.
Now everyone moves their puppets a fraction of an inch. Flash! “This is fun!” says Brooke B.
It takes 900 shots to make one minute of animated video. After 30 shots, the children have made two seconds of film. They stop to watch their work on the computer screen. “That was awesome!” says Noah C. as they watch their paper warriors come to life.
Later at another activity, the children will tell the stories, and their voices will be recorded. Then Bishop Summerhays will put the video pictures and the recorded voices together to make a movie.
Now the children can’t wait for this year’s premiere. They hope even more people will learn about the Book of Mormon by watching their new videos online.
And they are more enthusiastic about the scriptures because they brought them to life through their own creations.

My new friend Jonah wrote: “I often feel nervous on my way to school in the morning. I worry about things like being late, forgetting something, and taking tests. When I was 10, I started saying prayers on my drive to school with my mom. I ask for the help I need, and I pray for my family too. I also think of the things I’m grateful for. [Praying to Heavenly Father has] helped me. Sometimes I don’t feel the relief right as I get out of the car, but by the time I’m at my classroom, I feel peaceful.”

Jonah’s faith is growing as he prays every day and then moves forward.

Tate lay awake in the darkness, blinking back tears. He had prayed for help, but it seemed like a heavy black cloud hung over him, shutting out the Spirit.
What if I never forget that awful TV show? he worried.
A few days ago, he had finished his homework early and flipped on the TV. But he hadn’t expected to see something like that on the screen. Tate was so shocked that he forgot to turn off the television as quickly as he should have.
It was an accident. He hadn’t meant to watch a scene like that, but now he couldn’t forget it. Sometimes it popped into his head in the middle of school, at the dinner table—even during church. At times like that, he was glad Mom and Dad couldn’t read his mind. Tate’s parents had taught him not to look at pictures of people without clothes on. He knew that they also expected him to avoid violent TV shows, movies, and video games.
“Now I know why,” Tate mumbled to himself.
Tate got out of bed and onto his knees again. What could he do?
“Heavenly Father,” Tate whispered. “Please help me stop thinking about what I saw.” He wiped away the tears that had been forming in his eyes and listened. His heart beat faster. He thought he felt the Holy Ghost prompting him, but it wasn’t the answer he wanted.
He needed to tell his parents.
“Why?” Tate wondered. He would feel like a baby going into his parents’ room in the middle of the night. And to tell them? He felt embarrassed and sick all over again.
Then a clear thought came into his mind: Heavenly Father wanted him to be happy. Heavenly Father wanted him to feel the Spirit again, to think about good things, and to be honest with his family. He especially wanted Tate to become a worthy Aaronic Priesthood holder when he turned 12 in a few months. Tate realized that if he held on to what he had seen and kept it a secret, he would stay unhappy about it.
Tate knew he needed help—and the Holy Ghost had just told him where to find it.
Tate looked at the digital clock’s glowing numbers beside his bed. It was nearly 1:00 in the morning. He stood up and headed into the dark hallway toward his parents’ room. Swallowing nervously, he tapped on their door.
“Mom? Dad?”
“Tate, is that you?” came Mom’s sleepy voice.
“Is something wrong?” Dad asked.
“Yeah,” Tate said. “Can we talk? And can I maybe get a blessing?”
Dad clicked on his bedside lamp and invited Tate inside. For the first time in days, Tate felt warmth, hope, and light.

My grandmother died the following summer. My brother Jeff gave one of the eulogies. In his talk he read a note my grandmother had written in her husband’s funeral book. The entry was dated August 3, 1941.
“Dear Husband, I thank my Father in Heaven for showing his love to me when we met. I have loved you ever since. I hope we will soon be united again. Each passing day is a day closer to you. It has been heavenly to be the mother of your children. They are the most wonderful gift of all our earthly journey together. May we go on and on forever. Your wife.”
There is always sadness at a funeral. We feel a sense of loss. But mostly what I felt at my grandmother’s funeral was something else. I knew that what she was—the heart, the love, the wisdom, the gentleness, the spirit—would never die. It couldn’t be conquered by death or old age. She would always live. And because of that, I felt a strong connection to an eternal family.

I would like to tell you a story of an excellent athlete—a young man with superb character. He never went to the Olympics, but he stands as tall as any Olympian because he was honest with himself and with his God.
The account is told by a coach in a junior high school. He states:
“Today was test day in climbing the rope. We climb from a standing start to a point 15 feet high. [My job is] to train and teach the boys to negotiate this distance in as few seconds as possible.
“The school record for the event is 2.1 seconds. It has stood for three years. Today this record was broken. …
“For three years Bobby Polacio, a 14 1/2-year-old ninth grade … boy, [had trained and worked, consumed by his dream] of breaking this record.
“In his first of three attempts, Bobby climbed the rope in 2.1 seconds, tying the record. On the second try the watch stopped at 2.0 seconds flat, a record! But as he descended the rope and the entire class gathered around to check the watch, I knew I must ask Bobby a question. There was a slight doubt in my mind whether or not the board at the 15 foot height had been touched. If he missed, it was so very, very close—not more than a fraction of an inch—and only Bobby knew this answer.
“As he walked toward me, expressionless, I said, ‘Bobby, did you touch?’ If he had said, ‘Yes,’ the record he had dreamed of since he was a skinny seventh-grader and had worked for almost daily would be his, and he knew I would trust his word.
“With the class already cheering him for his performance, the slim, … boy shook his head negatively. And in this simple gesture, I witnessed a moment of greatness. …
“… And it was with effort through a tight throat that I told the class: ‘This boy has not set a record in the rope climb. No, he has set a much finer record for you and everyone to strive for. He has told the truth.’
“I turned to Bobby and said, ‘Bobby, I’m proud of you. You’ve just set a record many athletes never attain. Now, in your last try I want you to jump a few inches higher on the takeoff.’ …
“After the other boys had finished their next turns, and Bobby came up … for his try, a strange stillness came over the gymnasium. Fifty boys and one coach [watched] breathlessly [as] Bobby Polacio … climbed the rope in 1.9 seconds! A school record, a city record, and perhaps close to a national record for a junior high school boy.
“When the bell rang and I walked away, … I was thinking: ‘Bobby, … at 14 you are a better man than I. Thank you for climbing so very, very high today’” (Especially for Mormons, 1972, 1:185–86).

When her husband passed away after 25 years of marriage, my friend Susan thought she was too old ever to consider getting married again. “I was content to be a widow for the rest of my life,” she said.
But—surprisingly—two years later, she remarried. Her husband, George, was also a widower. Today they live a happy life together, sharing common interests such as historical research and service in the Church and community.
That may sound like a happily-ever-after story. But Susan and George are quick to agree that remarrying at any age can create both joys and challenges. This may be particularly true for those who were sealed in the temple for their first marriage. My own life is a case in point.
I loved my wife Raelene and treasure our temple marriage. When she passed away unexpectedly after 42 years of marriage, I was distraught. I wallowed in self-pity for almost a year. Eventually I found a new job in a new city. I felt ready to start over. I wondered about dating. But would that mean I was being disloyal?
I counseled with a friend who had remarried. “It’s a personal decision,” he said. “You know your deceased wife. What would she think? You know your family and how they may react. It’s like any other decision—it should be approached with humility and prayer.”
Another friend who had remarried said, “It’s not about moving on. It’s about moving forward with faith regardless of marrying again or remaining single.”
So I searched the scriptures, often reading the story of Ruth, a widow, and her mother-in-law, Naomi, who felt “the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me” (Ruth 1:20) because of the death of her husband and two sons. Boaz eventually married Ruth after being moved by “all that thou hast done unto thy mother in law since the death of thine husband” (Ruth 2:11). This scriptural “love story” between Ruth and Boaz reminded me that God is always near, even in our darkest moments, and can guide us in our life decisions.
I did start dating again, and I eventually met my wife Stephanie. When we married, we decided that expecting everything to be the same as our first marriages or making comparisons to former spouses or circumstances was a recipe for disaster. We needed to create our own “bonus family” by including all of our children in important decisions and all of our grandchildren in new traditions.
The scriptures have many examples of righteous persons who remained single following the passing of a spouse. The widow of Zarephath is celebrated for her faithfulness and generosity (see 1 Kings 17:8–16). The widow who cast two mites into the treasury was commended by the Savior for casting in “all that she had, even all her living” (Mark 12:44). The psalmist notes that the Lord “relieveth the fatherless and widow” (Psalm 146:9). These examples remind us that the Lord is very much aware of those who have lost a spouse. Elder Gerrit W. Gong of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles has taught, “Our standing before the Lord and in His Church is not a matter of our marital status but of our becoming faithful and valiant disciples of Jesus Christ.”
President Dallin H. Oaks, First Counselor in the First Presidency, was only seven years old when his father passed away from tuberculosis. His mother remained single the rest of her life while accomplishing much in Church and community service, including serving as mayor of the city of Provo.
“I was blessed with an extraordinary mother,” President Oaks recalled. “She surely was one of the many noble women who have lived in the latter days.”
While serving as a member of the Seventy, Elder Randy D. Funk noted “some causes of unhappiness: … sadness and loneliness from the death of a loved one, and fear from the uncertainty of what happens when we die.” As an antidote, he suggested that “the inward peace of being securely within the fold of God” can bridge such loneliness and uncertainty.
Elder Gong noted that faith and covenant-keeping and rich blessings are very much available for those who choose not to remarry after the loss of a spouse. He tells about one of his family’s progenitors who “was left with five young children when her husband and oldest son both died suddenly just days apart. A widow for 47 years, Gram raised her family with sustaining love from local leaders and members. During those many years, Gram promised the Lord if He would help her, she would never complain. The Lord helped her. She never complained.”
The blending of families is a consideration in many marriages, and it can be particularly challenging when children are involved, no matter their age. One of the greatest challenges, in fact, may be helping children to accept new relationships.
Children are often the forgotten mourners when a parent passes away. They may feel lost in the shuffle—or at least feel a desire to counsel together about decisions that affect the family. They may have memories they no longer feel they can share. “Remember the time when we …” could feel incomplete and perhaps even unwanted. They may find it challenging to adjust to their living parent’s new relationship, including finding it difficult to give their love and loyalty to a stepparent.
In the best of circumstances, a new spouse may feel like an outsider. “Even when family members go out of their way to welcome you, you can still feel like you’re on the outside a lot of the time,” says a woman who remarried. Her advice? “Remember you’re not replacing anyone; you’re just adding to the family. Give it lots of time and love.”
Sometimes it’s not so much the planned or deliberate activities but rather the simple and spontaneous experiences that promote this new relationship. These three things seem to help:
Showing up for sports, music, and other personal interests that matter to each child.
Practicing deep listening without giving too much advice.
Sharing personal experiences and vulnerabilities.
Instead of retreating from extended family interaction and sticking to the sidelines, “bonus” parents and grandparents can search for common interests with individual family members and discover new ideas and approaches together. In our bonus family, we share text messages on topics ranging from parenting to politics, business ventures to exercise tips, cooking to historical fiction. We began meeting separately online with each of the two extended families during the pandemic to study Come, Follow Me together and have continued it ever since then.
Balancing leisure time preferences, household chores, and especially family finances in a new marriage later in life can be challenging and complex. It requires empathy, tenderness, and “the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit” (1 Peter 3:4) to navigate new and sometimes conflicting demands.
Each couple will find their own answers in navigating chores, leisure time, and finances. If preferences are openly discussed together, most differences can be resolved over time. As a helpful guideline for such discussions, consider this advice about goal setting given by President M. Russell Ballard (1928–2023), Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles: “Set short-term goals that you can reach. Set goals that are well balanced—not too many nor too few, and not too high nor too low. Write down your attainable goals and work on them according to their importance. Pray for divine guidance in your goal setting.”
A second marriage, just like a first marriage, can be satisfying and fulfilling or stressful and difficult. Much depends on the ability of the couple to address common issues together. Many who marry again in later life find that life can be richer with someone to talk to, laugh with, and even share tears with when needed. Like any act of faith, remarriage requires exercising such Christlike attributes as patience, forbearance, forgiveness, kindness, and love.

A friend of mine received an invitation to the temple wedding of a young man she had taught in Primary. When she responded to the invitation, she asked, “David, you moved away, and I haven’t seen you for years. Why did you think of me?”
“Sister McMullin,” he said, “you taught us about being clean and worthy to receive the priesthood. You taught us about scrubbing our hands and wearing clean clothes when we would pass the sacrament. You taught us about being clean inside too. When I was faced with temptations and decisions in my dating years, your voice would come into my mind: ‘A deacon is clean inside and out.’ I am worthy to go to the temple because of you. That’s why I want you to come with us.”

I remember the first winter after I received my driver’s license. I was driving down Parley’s Canyon in a blinding snowstorm and couldn’t see the road. All of a sudden I found myself off the side of the road into a snowdrift and had to abandon the car for the evening. The next morning, who was by my side with patience and understanding as a friend would be, helping me shovel the car out of the snowdrift? My mother.

As my future wife and I prepared for marriage, we began looking for wedding rings that would symbolize our union. None we looked at seemed right until we decided to wear CTR rings. These rings, we believed, would remind us always to choose the right and to raise our family in righteousness.
One day, shortly before our marriage, I noticed my ring had lost its luster. I asked several people what to do and was told to polish it with substances like toothpaste, fine cotton, and grease. I tried them all. Nothing worked. I finally gave up, even though the lost luster bothered me.
After we were married, life seemed to get more complicated. I became so busy with work and Church callings that my wife was left alone to do much of the work at home. Gradually, the joyful feeling in our home ebbed away. Unsure of the reason for the change or of how to resolve our concerns, we prayed for guidance.
In time, our first son was born. My wife spent a great deal of time caring for our son. I was grateful for all she was doing and decided that I would make hand washing the diapers my task.
Several weeks after I began washing the diapers, I was surprised to see that my wedding ring had regained its luster. It occurred to me that washing diapers every day had done what none of the recommended polishing techniques could do.
It also occurred to me that since I had been so busy with duties outside my home, I had failed to fulfill my most important duties as a husband and father. Like my ring, our marriage had lost its luster. But once I chose the right—as my ring suggested—and made my family my top priority, both began to shine once more.

As a nurse in the newborn intensive care unit, I care for sick, sometimes very small, babies. One night I was assigned to a little boy born 17 weeks early and weighing just over one pound (0.5 kg). His hands were tiny, his little legs about as big around as my finger, and his feet about the size of my thumb. Because of his severe respiratory problems, doctors didn’t expect him to live through the night.
A quiet hush falls over the entire unit when a newborn is fighting for life. There is increased stress on everyone, especially the baby’s nurse, and tonight that was me. His parents had been with him most of the day, but they were exhausted. His mother had returned to her room for some much-needed rest.
The baby’s private room contained an isolette (incubator), monitors, ventilator, and IV pumps, which were keeping him alive. Because he was so ill and needed such intensive care, I wasn’t assigned any other patients that night. I would be at his side all night, busy with medications, monitoring, treatments, and tests.
As the night wore on, I tried to imagine how I would feel if I were his mother. The heartache would have been unbearable.
I gently washed his face, touched his little hands and feet, gingerly changed and positioned him in a soft new blanket. I wondered what else I could do for my little patient. What would his mother do? What would Heavenly Father want me to do?
This precious, innocent little spirit would soon be returning to his Father in Heaven. I wondered if he was afraid. I thought of my own children. When they were young and scared, I had sung to them. “I Am a Child of God” was their favorite. Choking back tears, I sang to the baby.
As a nurse I saw the tubes and the blood, counted the rise and fall of the baby’s chest, listened to the beating of his heart, and watched the numbers on the monitors. As a Latter-day Saint I saw a celestial spirit and marveled at the plan of salvation.
As the night progressed, his health deteriorated. He eventually developed a condition that caused him to bleed into his lungs.
In the morning my little patient slipped silently through the veil. He left his mother’s arms and was “taken home to that God who gave [him] life” (Alma 40:11).
I grew closer to the Savior and Heavenly Father that night. I developed a greater understanding of the Lord’s love for mankind—and His love for me. I was reminded, even surprised, by the depth of love I felt for Him. And I felt a desire to be more kind, more gentle, more forgiving, more compassionate—more like Him—one day and one heartbeat at a time.

Gabe was in the kitchen, but he could hear Mrs. Cole at the front door talking with Mom. “I don’t know how it happened! I just noticed little scratches all over my car door, and they weren’t there this morning.”
Gabe’s heart sank. He hadn’t meant to mess up Mrs. Cole’s car. He’d been playing in the dirt next to Mrs. Cole’s driveway. He was just drawing in the dirt with a stick. But soon he found himself using the stick to draw lines up and down on the back door of the car, fascinated with how the tiny lines looked in the paint. He thought they’d go away if he just brushed over them with his hand—like the lines he made in the dirt—but they didn’t.
Gabe heard the door shut as Mom walked outside to see the scratches. He had to think fast—there wasn’t much time.
He ran upstairs to his room, shut the door, and plopped onto his bed. He closed his eyes and felt his heart thumping. Slowly he lifted his head. He glanced at the photo of Grandma on his bookcase. He was glad she didn’t know what he had done. Grandma was always honest and had taught him to be honest too. When she was young, she decided she would never tell a lie so that others would always believe her.
Slowly Gabe slid off the bed and walked over to Grandma’s picture. He wanted to be someone people could believe too. He pulled out his jar of coins. He’d been doing extra chores to earn money for a toy he really wanted. If he told the truth, he’d have to give up the money he’d saved to help fix the car.
Gabe wanted to be honest, but he didn’t want to get in trouble. He didn’t want Mom and Mrs. Cole to be mad at him. Besides, no one had seen him scratch the car. He could just say he didn’t know what happened. But that thought made him squirm inside. He knew that even though no one had seen him, Heavenly Father and Jesus knew. He couldn’t lie to Them. He didn’t want to lie to Them.
He slowly walked down the stairs to the front door. He heard his mom outside asking his older brother if he knew what had happened to the car. Gabe straightened his shoulders and stepped outside.
Mom turned as he walked toward her. “Gabe? Do you know how Mrs. Cole’s car got scraped up?”
Gabe took a deep breath and said, “I did it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your car.”
Mom put her hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “Thank you for being honest,” she said quietly.
She turned to Mrs. Cole and said, “We’re so sorry Gabe scraped up your car. We’ll pay for the damage.”
“I’ll help earn the money,” Gabe said quickly.
He thought about the hard-earned money in the jar on his dresser. He wished he’d never picked up that stick. But he also felt relieved. It hadn’t been easy, but he had been honest! Gabe knew Grandma would be proud. And Heavenly Father would be happy too.

On a June day in 1976, young Chris Sanders and his family watched anxiously from high ground as swirling waters carried away their home and all their wordly possessions. The relentless torrent, unleashed when the Teton Dam collapsed near Rexburg, Idaho, left Chris, his brother Greg, and his parents with only the clothes they were wearing and the family station wagon.
The Sanders would not get back what they had lost, but they would rebuild their lives. In the years to come, Chris’s father, Lynn, accepted advancements in his employment which required several family moves. At each new location a rental house became their home.

President N. Eldon Tanner related the following experience:
“A young man came to me not long ago and said, ‘I made an agreement with a man that requires me to make certain payments each year. I am in arrears, and I can’t make those payments, for if I do, it is going to cause me to lose my home. What shall I do?’
“I looked at him and said, ‘Keep your agreement.’
“‘Even if it costs me my home?’
“I said, ‘I am not talking about your home. I am talking about your agreement; and I think your wife would rather have a husband who would keep his word, meet his obligations, keep his pledges or his covenants, and have to rent a home than to have a home with a husband who will not keep his covenants and his pledges.’”

Years ago when Sister Nelson and I had several teenaged daughters, we took our family on a vacation far away from telephones and boyfriends. We went on a raft trip down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. As we started our journey, we had no idea how dangerous this trip could be.
The first day was beautiful. But on the second day, when we approached Horn Creek rapids and saw that precipitous drop ahead, I was terrified. Floating on a rubber raft, our precious family was about to plunge over a waterfall! Instinctively I put one arm around my wife and the other around our youngest daughter. To protect them, I tried to hold them close to me. But as we reached the precipice, the bended raft became a giant sling and shot me into the air. I landed into the roiling rapids of the river. I had a hard time coming up. Each time I tried to find air, I hit the underside of the raft. My family couldn’t see me, but I could hear them shouting, “Daddy! Where’s Daddy?”
I finally found the side of the raft and rose to the surface. The family pulled my nearly drowned body out of the water. We were thankful to be safely reunited.
The next several days were pleasant and delightful. Then came the last day, when we were to go over Lava Falls, known as the most dangerous drop of the journey. When I saw what was ahead, I immediately asked to beach the raft and hold an emergency family council meeting, knowing that if we were to survive this experience, we needed to plan carefully. I reasoned with our family: “No matter what happens, the rubber raft will remain on top of the water. If we cling with all our might to ropes secured to the raft, we can make it. Even if the raft should capsize, we will be all right if we hang tightly to the ropes.”
I turned to our little seven-year-old daughter and said, “All of the others will cling to a rope. But you will need to hold on to your daddy. Sit behind me. Put your arms around me and hold me tightly while I hold the rope.”
That we did. We crossed those steep, rough rapids—hanging on for dear life—and all of us made it safely.
Brothers and sisters, I nearly lost my life learning a lesson that I now give to you. As we go through life, even through very rough waters, a father’s instinctive impulse to cling tightly to his wife or to his children may not be the best way to accomplish his objective. Instead, if he will lovingly cling to the Savior and the iron rod of the gospel, his family will want to cling to him and to the Savior.
This lesson is surely not limited to fathers. Regardless of gender, marital status, or age, individuals can choose to link themselves directly to the Savior, hold fast to the rod of His truth, and lead by the light of that truth. By so doing, they become examples of righteousness to whom others will want to cling.
With the Lord, families are essential. He created the earth that we could gain physical bodies and form families. He established His Church to exalt families. He provides temples so that families can be together forever.
Of course, He expects fathers to preside over, provide for, and protect their families. But the Master has asked for much more. Etched in sacred scripture is a commandment to “set in order thy house.” Once we as parents understand the importance and meaning of that commandment, we need to learn how to do it.
To set our house in an order pleasing to the Lord, we need to do it His way. We are to employ His attributes of “righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, [and] meekness.” Each father should remember that “no power or influence can or ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood, only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned.”
Parents are to be living examples of “kindness, and pure knowledge, which … greatly enlarge the soul.” Each mother and father should lay aside selfish interests and avoid any thought of hypocrisy, physical force, or evil speaking. Parents soon learn that each child has an inborn yearning to be free. Each individual wants to make his or her own way. No one wants to be restrained, even by a well-intentioned parent. But all of us can cling to the Lord.
Ages ago, Job taught that concept. He said, “My righteousness I hold fast, and will not let it go.” Nephi also taught, “Whoso would hearken unto the word of God, and … hold fast unto it, … would never perish.”
These tenets are timeless as the gospel and endless as eternity. Ponder these additional scriptural admonitions:
From the Old Testament Proverbs we read, “Take fast hold of instruction; let her not go: keep her; for she is thy life.”
From the New Testament: “Brethren, stand fast, and hold the traditions which ye have been taught.”
From the Book of Mormon we learn about multitudes who were “continually holding fast to the rod of iron,” likening it to “the word of God.” Anchored in truth, that iron rod is immovable and immutable.
Not only are parents to cling to the word of the Lord, but they have a divine mandate to teach it to their children. Scriptural direction is very clear: “Inasmuch as parents have children in Zion … that teach them not to understand the doctrine of repentance, faith in Christ the Son of the living God, and of baptism and the gift of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of the hands, when eight years old, the sin be upon the heads of the parents.”
That commandment places responsibility and accountability for the teaching of children squarely upon the shoulders of the parents. The proclamation to the world regarding the family warns that individuals “who fail to fulfill family responsibilities will one day stand accountable before God.” Today I solemnly reaffirm that reality.
In discharging these duties, we need both the Church and the family. They work hand in hand to strengthen each other. The Church exists to exalt the family. And the family is the fundamental unit of the Church.
These interrelationships are evident as we study the early history of the Church. In 1833 the Lord rebuked young leaders of His Church because of parental shortcomings. The Lord said:
“I have commanded you to bring up your children in light and truth.
“But verily I say unto you, …
“You have not taught your children light and truth, according to the commandments. …
“And now a commandment I give unto you … you shall set in order your own house, for there are many things that are not right in your house. … First set in order thy house.”
This revelation represents one of the many powerful validations of the integrity of the Prophet Joseph Smith. He did not delete from scripture words of stinging rebuke, even though some were directed to himself.

This story happened in the Philippines.
“I miss G-pop,” Macy told her grandma. She called her grandparents G-pop and G-mom. “Ever since he went to the hospital, I’ve wanted to help him. But I don’t know how.”
Macy pushed around the food on her plate. It was her favorite breakfast—rice, eggs, and hot dogs. But she felt too sad to eat.
G-mom put her arm around Macy. “I understand. Sometimes we feel helpless when someone we love is going through a difficult time. But remember, there are two people who love us even more than we can imagine.”
“Who?” Macy asked.
“Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ,” G-mom said. “When we have faith in Them, They guide us and give us strength.”
As Macy listened, her heart felt hopeful. She knew that Heavenly Father and Jesus could help G-pop.
That night, Macy knelt by her bed and closed her eyes.
“Heavenly Father, please watch over G-pop and help him feel better. I love him, and I love Thee too. Please help me to know what I can do for him.”
The next morning, Macy woke up to the sun shining through her curtains. She had an idea! Singing Primary songs and Church hymns was one of the things she and G-pop loved to do together. Maybe that would bring him comfort!
She got up, said her morning prayer, then asked G-mom if she could visit G-pop. Soon, they were on their way to the hospital together. She was excited to finally see G-pop again and hopefully make him smile.
When Macy walked into the hospital room, G-pop was sitting up in bed with a blanket over his legs. He looked tired. But when he saw Macy, his face lit up with joy. She ran to him and gave him a gentle hug.
“Good morning, G-pop!”
“What brings you here, my little lang-lang Macy?”
Lang-lang meant “love.” It was G-pop’s favorite nickname for Macy.
“I want to sing for you,” Macy said. She sat beside him on his bed and opened her songbook. “I am a child of God, and He has sent me here . . .” she began.
G-pop’s eyes filled with tears of joy. He joined in and started singing too.
“. . . has given me an earthly home with parents kind and dear.”*
Their voices filled the small hospital room. Soon, G-mom joined in too. Macy had a peaceful feeling in her heart as they sang together.
When they finished, Macy reached out her hand, and G-pop held it tightly.
“Let’s pray, G-pop.”
Together they prayed, and Macy asked Heavenly Father to bless G-pop with strength and healing.
After the prayer, G-pop looked at Macy. “Thank you for your beautiful songs and prayers. You’ve helped me feel better. Even though you’re small, you have a big heart filled with love.”
Macy smiled. She was happy that her love and faith had helped G-pop feel better. She knew that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ would always be there to help her family in hard times.
Illustrations by Chrisanne Serafin

Sabrina Echols, a senior who was introduced to the Church by her friends Darilyn and Eva, said, “Don’t be afraid to try out for something just because you might not make it. Don’t get discouraged. It’s better to try.” Sabrina knows what she says is true from personal experience. She tried out several times to be a cheerleader on the rally squad but didn’t make it. Then she tried out for school mascot and was successful. Now she wears the gold and purple that represent her school.

Originally from Fiji, Reena Naidu’s family moved to Sydney, Australia, when she was young.
She discovered her gift for art in high school when an assignment required her to submit a self-portrait. “At about the same time, I read a Church talk about developing our talents and I felt inspired to develop my artistic skills,” Reena says.
She followed that inspiration to the National Art School in Dalinghurst, Sydney, where she earned a master’s in fine arts. Today she is a manager for an art supplies company where she helps others select the right materials for their art projects.

James Peter Fugal was an honest man! He herded sheep much of his life in the rolling hills of Idaho. On one bitterly cold winter night, he was herding sheep for another man when a blizzard set in. The sheep bunched together, as sheep do, in the corner of a fenced area, and many died.
Though the death of the sheep was no fault of his, James Fugal felt responsible and spent the next several years working and saving to repay the owner for his lost sheep.
I thought of James Fugal, the humble sheepherder, and how wonderful it was that these children were being taught the same values that made him a man of such noble character.

One summer I decided to read the Bible. I was worried that I would find it boring, but I tried to read it every morning.
For several years, a quote from President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, had hung on the bulletin board over my desk: “Be strong and of good courage. You are truly royal spirit daughters of Almighty God. You are princesses, destined to become queens. Your own wondrous story has already begun” (“Your Happily Ever After,” Ensign, May 2010, 127). I love this quote and have it memorized.
One day I stumbled on the phrase “be strong and of a good courage” in Deuteronomy 31:6! Recognizing it from President Uchtdorf’s quote, I highlighted the verse. I finished Deuteronomy that day and felt satisfied.
The next morning I began reading Joshua. In chapter 1 it says, “Be strong and of a good courage” (Joshua 1:6). I marked this scripture, noting the coincidence in my scripture journal.
A moment later, I found the phrase “be strong and of a good courage” again in verses 9 and 18! To me, the repetition of this phrase was a connection between the Old Testament and today. It must be important if the Lord’s servants are still giving us the same counsel today.
As I continued to read the Old Testament, I found several more verses with that same phrase. These verses are spread out and keep me eager to read my scriptures in the hope that I might find more.
This simple experience helped me to be diligent about my scripture study. It made the Old Testament interesting to me. And it became my personal goal to always “be strong and of good courage.”

It took several months to gain courage to go to church. I knew where the church was, but there were no missionaries in our little branch. In February 1984, I walked into the Kwekwe chapel. I wanted to walk back out. I wasn’t sure I belonged and sat at the back, ready to bolt. After the opening exercises, the branch president, Mike Allen, bore his testimony about the Savior Jesus Christ and the Book of Mormon. I felt connected. The next person also bore his testimony about the Savior and the Book of Mormon, and so did the third one. I was euphoric. I couldn’t get the courage to go to the pulpit, so I stood where I was and said, “I love Jesus. I’m reading the Book of Mormon.” And I sat down. That was the beginning of my testimony.
Those testimonies were the Lord’s way of reaching out to me because it helped me feel that I belonged there. I felt that these were my brothers and sisters. During the following days I prayed for them and for acceptance. I met members there who were so kind and who helped me.