Gospel Story Finder

Architecture and the dental profession constitute an unlikely combination, but this unorthodox blending of occupations makes life interesting indeed for Jacinto Lambino Ledesma, a 37-year old Tarlaqueño from Paniqui, who holds a degree in Architecture (MLQ University, Class of 1966).
If one visits a dentist and sits snugly on a dental chair that somehow eases the fear and pain commonly associated with the ministrations of a dentist, there is a good chance that the patient is sitting on a functional Ledesma dental chair that has been designed with a lot of psychological factors thrown in.
He cannot fill a cavity or fit a dental brace and yet his name is now a by-word in the dental profession in this country, with about 500 satisfied practitioners and users of the Ledesma chair endorsing the product of a Mormon’s ingenuity.
Not one to sit on his laurels, Bro. Ledesma forged on by inventing the first hydraulic dental chair and unit with X-Ray, panoramic light and switchboard, earning the privilege to display his invention in the National Science Development Board pavilion during the last National Inventors Week.
Bro. Ledesma is married to Julieta Villanueva Bulan with whom he was sealed at the Salt Lake City Temple (see companion article, back page of this issue: Vignette). They have four children: Judith Marie 10, Joseph Jude 7, Jesus James 6, and Jerome John 5. It is interesting to note that the first names of all members of the family begin with the letter J, reflecting a partiality for the tenth letter of the alphabet which he cannot yet explain to this day.
His first contact with missionaries is a story by itself. Brother Jay, as he is fondly called, had just been from a religious mini-course which was then the fad in the early 70’s, and it was this opportunity to be inquisitive about Jesus Christ that led him to seek spiritual enlightenment. He found it when two missionaries (Elders Gleave and Johnson) knocked on his door before Christmas of 1971.
The first question the senior Elder asked was “Do you want to know more about Jesus Christ?”—a question which he coincidentally was asking himself a few minutes before the Elders came into his life. It was as if God directed the two Elders to knock on the door at a very precise and opportune moment.
On February 12, 1972, or two and a half months after that inspiring meeting, Bro. Ledesma was baptized by Elders Adrian Pulfer and Bartolomew Birkett at the Buendia chapel.
And life has never been the same ever since for the architect turned equipment manufacturer-inventor—and Mormon missionary, whose secret formula for success, as featured in the August 27, 1977 issue of Focus (a nationally circulated weekly magazine), is the belief that challenges in life can be met and surmounted with strong faith in God and self-discipline, coupled with self-confidence and a spirit of unselfishness—the use of one’s endowments to help others find fulfillment in their lives.

One young man from Argentina in South America showed his desire to be a disciple of Christ by sharing some of his candy with a friend as they rode the bus to school. When he came to a coffee flavored piece, he explained that he had never developed a taste for that flavor since no one in his family drank coffee. That led to a conversation about the Church, which led to an invitation to come to meetings, which eventually led to his friend’s joining the Church and serving a mission in Chile.

Before any temple is dedicated, children and adults can go to the temple open house and see what a house of the Lord looks like on the inside.
Aubree, Reese, and Ellee M. live a few blocks from the Draper Utah Temple, so they watched as it was built week by week. They even saw a big crane lifting the angel Moroni into place. “That was really awesome!” 10-year-old Aubree said. “But the best day ever was when my family and I got to go inside.”
As soon as they walked through the temple door, the children felt a special spirit. Their tour guide explained that “everything in the temple is sacred,” Aubree said.

Blair: I grew up in the Church and have a testimony. However, there is a part of my life that few people know. At age seven I often saw a pornographic poster on a teenage neighbor’s wall. It left an impression in my mind that I could not forget. Unworthy thoughts led me to develop an unworthy habit I felt I couldn’t break.

Blair: My self-confidence dwindled in church, school, and everywhere. Many times I felt very alone, awkward, and unworthy. If a girl liked me, I would think, “She wouldn’t like me if she really knew me.” I would shy away from being social.

Blair: I prayed for strength to leave these temptations alone. I made a list of things such as prayer, scriptures, and clean thoughts that would help me draw close to God. But although I worked hard, it didn’t solve my problems.
The thought of confessing to the bishop made me cringe. I felt it would be better to tell the bishop about the problem when it was in the past. But I finally realized it wasn’t ever going to be in the past if I did not confess. If God already knew my struggles and I felt comfortable talking about them in prayer, why not talk face to face with God’s servant? Once I finally decided to confess, I felt a reassuring peace that it was the right thing to do.
If you are using pornography, you are not morally clean, even if you haven’t done anything else immoral. Rob talks about realizing he wasn’t worthy to go to the temple or on a mission.
Rob: I humbly bowed before the Lord in tears and pleaded for strength beyond my own. Night after night I prayed, and finally I knew I had to talk to my bishop about it. That was the hardest part—admitting to someone else that I had a problem. I kept thinking I could handle it myself and no one would ever have to know. I wanted it to be something just between God and me. But I finally matured to a point where I realized that was impossible. I approached my bishop and began a long and difficult repentance process.
Repentance may be difficult, but it is also comforting and filled with hope.
Speaking of those who struggle with pornography, one bishop says: “Help is available. The repentance process is just that—a process. It takes time to break negative patterns, and each small victory must be acknowledged, reinforced, and celebrated along the way. Sometimes those I have worked with still struggle, but at least they are not hiding anymore. They have begun to build a support system. They have realized they don’t have to face this challenge alone.”
A former bishop explains: “Besides my own family, I don’t think I loved anyone in my ward quite as much as I loved those who came to me with broken hearts, seeking forgiveness and peace. They cared more about what the Lord thought of them than what any person thought. I respected their courage and desire to make things right. I shed tears over them. I rejoiced when they were clean and whole again. And afterward I never looked at them as former sinners—only as beloved brothers and sisters.”
“Trust in the Lord,” counseled Elder Richard G. Scott of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. “He knows what He is doing. He already knows of your problems. And He is waiting for you to ask for help” (“Trust in the Lord,” Ensign, May 1989, 36).
I felt relief when I stopped pretending. Sharing the burden with my bishop and my family meant I no longer had to deal with this addiction alone. Now I hold on to this support system.
A problem that dominated my youth could not be overcome overnight. This road has been long and hard—and it continues. It isn’t enough anymore to look happy. I want to be happy. I am coming to know Christ and to understand the Atonement. The Savior gives me the strength I need so my self-confidence and self-respect grow each day.
I was honest with my bishop. And when my dad talked to me, I was honest with him too. We worked on the problem together. We decided not to have the Internet in our home for a while. That was a big help.
I’m turning 16 soon, and I’m glad I decided not to let pornography control my life. I feel better about myself, and I think about young women differently than I did before. With my bishop’s help, I’m preparing now for the temple, a mission, and a great marriage one day.
It took a lot of time and sincere effort to break bad habits. Eventually I was judged by my priesthood leader as worthy to serve a mission. The best feeling in the world was to go to the temple and know I am clean. The Spirit I wanted to feel during all those teenage years came flooding into my heart and life. I am so thankful for the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
The adversary still works on me, trying to get me to backslide. But I have learned to put on the armor of God every day. I know Jesus Christ loves me, and I love Him.
The best way to avoid a problem with pornography is to stay as far away from it as possible. But if you are struggling with pornography or any unworthy habit, please talk to your bishop or branch president. He loves you, he will be discreet, and he can help you put the power of the Atonement to work in your life. With the help of the Savior and His servants, you can gain the strength you need. You can become clean and confident and worthy in every respect.
It is both dangerous and wrong to deliberately view things that stimulate sexual thoughts. Our environment is full of such things. And because they are often legal and common, it is sometimes impossible to avoid seeing them.
But you don’t have to let them trap you. If you put on the full armor of God every day by praying, studying the scriptures, and doing your best to keep the commandments, you will develop the strength to withstand this and any temptation.
Here are some other ways you can stay far from the lethal spiritual crevice called pornography.
Know it when you see it. A simple definition is this: Pornography is any entertainment that uses immodest or indecent images to stimulate sexual feelings. So even a mainstream television program or advertisement can be pornographic. If images trigger sexual feelings in you, you should avoid them.
Break the emotional connection. There is a connection between any addictive behavior and emotions such as stress, anxiety, and depression. If you are feeling stressed or anxious, try to deal with those feelings directly—rather than using pornography or any other destructive means to cover them up. Prayer, scripture study, exercise, positive friends, and regular Church attendance can all help. A parent, a Church leader, or another trusted adult can be a lifeline if problems seem too big to resolve alone.
Surf smart. If you have access to the Internet at home, ask your parents to install an Internet filtering service. But don’t rely on the filter alone; it may fail you. The only real control is self-control. Keep your computer out of your bedroom; keep it where others will be around.
Be a modern-day Joseph. Remember what Joseph did when Potiphar’s wife tried to trap him in an immoral situation? Joseph “fled, and got him out” (Gen. 39:12). In other words, he ran. When you are exposed to pornography, leave immediately—whether by a mouse click, a channel change, or a quick exit from a friend’s house.
Get the most powerful help of all. Don’t let your spirit grow weak from lack of spiritual food. A steady diet of righteous influences—such as prayer, scripture study, Mutual, seminary, and a careful study of For the Strength of Youth—can give you the strength you need to navigate through a world that has spiritual crevices at every turn.
“I plead with you boys … to keep yourselves free from the stains of the world. You must not indulge in sleazy talk at school. You must not tell sultry jokes. You must not fool around with the Internet to find pornographic material. You must not dial a long-distance telephone number to listen to filth. You must not rent videos with pornography of any kind. This salacious stuff simply is not for you. Stay away from pornography as you would avoid a serious disease. It is as destructive. It can become habitual, and those who indulge in it get so they cannot leave it alone. It is addictive.

“It is a five-billion-dollar business for those who produce it. They make it as … attractive as they know how. It seduces and destroys its victims. It is everywhere. It is all about us. I plead with you young men not to get involved in its use. You simply cannot afford to.”—President Gordon B. Hinckley (“Living Worthy of the Girl You Will Someday Marry,” Ensign, May 1998, 49)
Pornography can be powerfully addicting. Scientific research—including new brain-scan technology—is beginning to show that pornography may cause physical and chemical changes in the brain similar to those caused by drugs. The only sure way to avoid the danger is to stay away from pornography in the first place.
If you have become addicted, you must seek help. The first person to see is your bishop or branch president. He can help you bring the Savior’s redeeming and healing power into your life. He can also help you obtain professional help as necessary. Please don’t try to go it alone.
Pornography isn’t just available, it is being pushed and marketed. Nobody—no adult, no returned missionary, no one—is so mature or so strong that he or she can risk deliberate exposure. Plan to be on guard your entire life. And that is even more true for those who have had a previous problem with pornography. It’s like being recovered from a drug or alcohol addiction. You must not return for even a taste because you can be overwhelmed in a moment.

Seventeen-year-old Amy J. lives in a part of Alabama, USA, that is popular among tourists. As a result, many businesses stay open seven days a week. And yet, Amy has been fortunate enough to find a job that doesn’t require her to work on Sunday—something very important to her.
Amy works year-round as a lifeguard and swim instructor at the local recreation center. She enjoys her job, especially teaching swimming lessons. “I like working with the kids,” Amy says.
The job also provides valuable income. “Last summer I was able to save up money and buy a car. That has been a tremendous blessing,” she says.
In short, she says it’s a fantastic job. So how did she land it? By first joining the swim team. “My swim coach texted me about a job she knew of,” Amy says. Amy believes she never would have found this opportunity if she hadn’t been putting herself out there and meeting people. She advises all youth to become involved in activities and to network.
Amy, too, has picked up useful life skills from her job. In her case, some of them may prove extremely helpful. “I want to go into the medical field,” she explains. The CPR and first-aid training she received as part of her lifeguard duties are excellent foundational skills.
She’s learned about balancing work and school schedules too. “Time management skills definitely come from having a job,” she says.
Last, but certainly not least, Amy has gained a testimony of paying tithing as a result of the income she receives from work. “I can see that when I pay tithing, I’m able to use my money in a more productive fashion,” she says.

As Tyler climbed out of Grandpa’s truck, the cold January wind off Boston Harbor whipped at his face. With each breath, a tiny cloud of fog appeared in front of him. “This is Boston, Grandpa?”
Not waiting for an answer, he continued eagerly, “Where is Boston Garden? And Fenway Park—where is Fenway Park, Grandpa?”
Smiling, Grandpa answered, “Put your scarf on, and then I’ll show you where everything is.”
Wrapping his scarf close around his face, he followed his grandfather. As they walked, Tyler saw a man sit down and take a huge army knapsack off his back. Sitting next to the man was a black Labrador retriever wearing a guide-dog harness. Tyler noticed that the dog’s shaggy fur was scruffy as it looked at him in apparent misery on the cold pavement.
He looked from the dog to the man, who had now set up a small keyboard, amplifier, and generator.
It was obvious that the man was blind as he fumbled to find the power switch. His hands were cracked and bleeding as he placed an old, battered cap upside-down on the ground and began to play. The man smiled politely and said thank you whenever he heard coins drop into the hat.
“Why is that man playing outside in such cold weather, Grandpa?”
“He probably doesn’t have a home,” Grandpa answered solemnly.
“Unfortunately, some of the street performers in the shopping district are homeless.”
Tyler pulled his coat tighter about himself and thought of his own warm home.
When Grandpa dropped him off at home that night, Tyler went straight to his room. Taking his piggy bank from his dresser, he opened it and dumped the contents onto his bed. Slowly he counted first his bills, then his coins. Nineteen dollars and fifty-eight cents.
He lifted the bank up to his face and peered into the hole in the bottom. Reaching in with two fingers, he pulled out a folded catalog page. He unfolded it and admired the fishing pole that he had been planning to get for his grandfather. Now, however, even though Grandpa’s birthday was only two days away, Tyler couldn’t forget the blind man’s cracked hands or the dog’s sad eyes.
The next day after school, Tyler emptied the contents of the piggy bank into his coat pocket, borrowed his little sister’s red wagon, and walked to the store. Twenty minutes later he left it, his pockets no longer jingling with change. Instead, one pocket bulged with a new pair of wool gloves, and his wagon creaked under the weight of a large bag of dog food.
After parking the wagon in the garage, Tyler went to his room. Grandpa’s birthday was only a day away, and Tyler still had no gift to give him. Searching his room, he found the ceramic pot he had made in art class. Dumping out the loose baseball cards in it, he took a closer look.
Well, it’s blue, and that’s Grandpa’s favorite color, he thought, trying to convince himself that his grandfather would like it. He cleaned it up, then sat down with a pencil and a sheet of paper and began to write:
Dear Grandpa,
For your birthday, I wanted to get you something you would really like. I know that to really help people, we are to give as much as we can to fast offerings, but this gift is a sort of remembrance of our wonderful day in Boston together. …
When he finished, he stuck the note and the creased picture of the fishing pole inside the ceramic pot and wrapped it.
The next evening, his stomach felt as though he had eaten stone soup instead of the wonderful birthday dinner his grandmother had prepared. Grandpa is going to be awfully disappointed at my present, he thought sadly as Grandma brought out the candle-lit cake.
When it was time for Grandpa to open his gifts, he reached for Tyler’s package first. Tyler held his breath as he watched his grandfather’s face. When Grandpa finished reading the note in the pot, he smiled at Tyler, his blue eyes twinkling.
The following Saturday, Tyler and his grandfather were back in Boston. Grandpa carried the dog food, and he carried the wool gloves. Rounding the corner, Tyler saw a number of street performers. Straining his eyes, he spotted the blind man and his dog at the end of the block. Approaching him, Tyler said, “Excuse me, sir.”
The man continued to play, but turned his head in the direction of the boy’s voice.
“I have something for you. I paid for it with my own money.”
The man stopped playing his keyboard, and Tyler handed him the gloves. As he felt the wool gloves, a huge smile spread across the man’s face.
“Also,” Tyler quickly went on, “I brought a bag of food for your dog.”
Now the man spoke, his voice husky. “Thank you, boy. Thank you.”
As Grandpa set down the heavy bag, Tyler noticed the Lab’s ears perk up. And when he glanced back later, he saw that the man was wearing the new gloves while he gave his dog some of the food.
Tyler looked up to see Grandpa’s eyes twinkling again. “I’ll treasure the pot,” Grandpa said, “but I like this gift even better.”

The Relief Society was organized by God’s prophet Joseph and has been led and is led today by a prophet so that we may become true followers of Jesus Christ. That is the answer to the question, “Why Relief Society?” That is why we participate and that is what it can do for us: instruct us more perfectly in our covenant obligations and promises to be disciples of our Lord Jesus Christ. Or, as Joseph Smith instructed those first sisters in 1842: “[This] … Society is not only to relieve the poor, but to save souls” (History of the Church, 5:25). What does it mean to save souls? Let me give one example of the many I have witnessed as I have visited among you. A South African sister once told me that when her husband died and she was left to rear their six children, she relied on the teachings of the Bible for direction. She often pondered the meaning of Proverbs 13, verse 24, which is interpreted widely as “spare the rod and spoil the child.” [Prov. 13:24] When she joined the Church she turned to the Book of Mormon, too, for understanding. There she found mention of another rod, the word of God which leads one along the path to the tree of life. Then she understood that sparing this rod would certainly spoil her children. Thus, she has learned to order her home, to bring the light of the gospel, to save the souls of her children.
I saw Sister Mavimbela again very recently when she received an award at Brigham Young University, and she has enlarged her sphere. In conversation she told me that by participating in her Relief Society in Soweto she has learned to apply its saving ways within her community. Using visiting teaching and welfare principles, such as those described in the Church’s manual Providing in the Lord’s Way, she has supervised more than a thousand children as they learn to garden and raise food for themselves and others. She has also enlisted more than 250 grandmothers in her community to help with the many tasks essential to the temporal and spiritual nurturing of children and the strengthening of families. Sister Mavimbela is saving souls. She is in the same mold as those great women, such as Eliza R. Snow, Phoebe Kimball, and Zina D. H. Young, who began to visit one another in Nauvoo for the purpose of feeding hungry families and shoring up struggling faith in difficult times. This is what Relief Society is for: to make of us women who can nourish body and soul, who can “succor [God’s children] according to their infirmities” (Alma 7:12). This is the work our Savior did, and it is the work to which he called us when he ordered this society under the direction of the priesthood.

Oripa lives in the Fiji islands. A few years ago she wanted more than anything in all the world to join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Her big sister was a member of the Church, and Oripa asked her parents if she could be baptized too, but they refused.
Finally, however, when Oripa was ten years old, her prayers were answered. She was so happy when she was confirmed a member of the Church she just couldn’t stop crying tears of happiness. Oripa knew that our Heavenly Father would bless her.
Oripa worked hard and did her best at home and at school. All the children of Fiji in class 6 were given their intermediate examination. When the tests were graded, Oripa had the highest mark of any child in her grade in all of Fiji.
That night when her big sister came home, she kissed Oripa and congratulated her for doing so well on the test. When her proud parents asked Oripa about the examination, she explained that she knew this was a blessing from our Heavenly Father because she had joined His Church.

While serving as president of the Japan Hiroshima Mission, I attended the services of the Hamada Branch in the Hiroshima Japan Stake. This small branch has an average attendance of about 35 members and investigators and meets in a rented building. When I entered the chapel, I was warmly welcomed by 10-year-old Eimi Funaki, who was playing prelude music on the branch’s electric organ. When the sacrament meeting started, I was surprised to see Eimi remain at the organ, thinking that a more mature member would be serving as the branch organist. I was even more surprised when 11-year-old Miho Hirano took her place behind the music stand as the branch chorister and began leading the congregation in the opening hymn. They both did a beautiful job. Although they are young in body, they are very mature in spirit. Their faithful efforts brought a wonderful sweet spirit to the meeting. I hope their example will help other Primary children want to develop their talents.

Trials and tests apply to rich and poor alike. Years ago I was asked to perform an operation upon a very wealthy man. A surgical biopsy confirmed that he had an advanced cancer that had spread throughout his body. As I reported this news, his immediate response was to rely upon his wealth. He would go anywhere or do anything to treat his condition. He thought he could buy his way back to health. But he soon passed away. Someone asked, “How much wealth did he leave?” The answer, of course, was, “All of it!”
His priorities were set upon things of the world. His ladder of success had been leaning against the wrong wall. I think of him when I read this scripture: “Behold, your days of probation are past; ye have procrastinated the day of your salvation until it is … too late.”

The next day was Mother’s Day. Chad wanted to give something special to his mommy. He was only five years old and didn’t have any money to buy a present.
Yellow-faced pansies bloomed along a sidewalk in Mrs. Dewey’s yard next door. Chad had watched Mrs. Dewey plant them. Her husband had died last year, and she lived alone. Sometimes Chad’s parents invited her to Sunday dinner.
Chad asked Mommy if he could go outside and play on the swing set. The pansies seemed to smile at him. He picked a handful and carried them inside.
“Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy!” He held out the flowers to her. It didn’t feel as good as he thought it would.
A smile settled on her lips. “Chad, they’re beautiful! Thank you.” The smile faded. “Where did you get such beautiful pansies?”
He shuffled from one foot to the other. “Outside.”
“Where outside?”
“Mrs. Dewey’s yard,” he said reluctantly.
“How do you think Mrs. Dewey is going to feel when she finds that some of her flowers are missing?” Mommy asked softly.
Chad remembered how Mrs. Dewey had knelt on the ground, patting the dark dirt around the flowers. She had worked a long time planting them. “She might be sad.”
Mommy put the flowers on the table. “What do you think you should do?”
He chewed on his lip. “Maybe I could put them back.”
Mommy sat at the table and patted the chair beside her. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”
Chad didn’t think so, either. “I guess I should tell her what I did.” He looked at the flowers. They lay limply on the table, their cheerful faces already drooping.
He trudged over to Mrs. Dewey’s house and knocked at the door. “I picked your flowers for my mommy for Mother’s Day. I’m sorry.” He got out the words in a single breath.
Mrs. Dewey smiled. “Thank you, Chad, for bringing the flowers back and telling me the truth.”
“I’ll help you stick them in the ground again,” he offered.
“After flowers are picked, they can’t be replanted,” she said gently.
“That’s what Mommy said.” He brightened. “Maybe I could help you plant some new flowers.”
Mrs. Dewey’s smile bloomed like one of the pansies. “I’d like that.”
That afternoon, Mommy and Chad bought new flowers to plant in Mrs. Dewey’s yard.
“I’ll do chores to pay you back for the flowers,” Chad said. He thought for a moment. “I could do more chores for a Mother’s Day present.”
Mommy hugged him. “That’s the best present you could give me.”

Change your attitude. By looking at a problem in a different way, it may be possible to reduce discouragement. I have been impressed with the pioneer story told about Zina Young. After experiencing the death of parents, crop failure, and sickness, she was encouraged with a spiritual experience that changed her attitude. While attempting to seek divine help, she heard her mother’s voice: “Zina, any sailor can steer on a smooth sea, when rocks appear, sail around them.” A prayer came quickly: “O Father in heaven, help me to be a good sailor, that my heart shall not break on the rocks of grief” (“Mother,” The Young Woman’s Journal, Jan. 1911, 45). It is often difficult to change circumstances, but a positive attitude can help lift discouragement.

I decided to pray about it. I asked the Lord if he could tell me why we were always fighting and if he could stick with me through it all, so I could be a better family member. Soon I was doing a little bit better. I controlled my temper. I gave more to other family members, and I tried to develop better relationships with them. You know, Heavenly Father is there whenever you need him.
Karen Thomas, 13Orem, Utah

Have you ever had a completely life-changing moment—the kind that seems to ruin everything? I have, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
One minute, my siblings and I were sitting on the living room couch, quietly waiting. The next, it felt like my whole world was crashing down.
My dad’s casual explanation of his decision to file for divorce contradicted everything I thought I knew. I thought we were a happy family. I thought daily scripture study and family prayer were supposed to keep us together.
From that point on, a lot changed. My happy childhood memories began to sour. My parents both got remarried. My siblings started choosing sides.
I wondered what had happened to my life.
It felt so unfair—why did someone else’s decision get to ruin my life?
Or did it? For a while, my parents’ divorce felt like the most important day of my life. But a talk by Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles made me rethink this.
He taught, “The most important day in the history of mankind was the day when Jesus Christ, the living Son of God, won the victory over death and sin for all of God’s children.”
Then he added that the most important day in our lives is the day when we commit to follow Jesus Christ—a day he hoped would recur “over and over again throughout our lives.”
So, yes, while my parents’ divorce did change my life, the Atonement of Jesus Christ changed the trajectory of human history. And that’s not all; I’ve learned that because of the events of Easter, Christ can change the trajectory of my life—every day.

“Where’s Dad’s red shirt? It just isn’t Christmas if Dad doesn’t wear his red shirt.”
I don’t remember when this tradition started in our family, but Dad always had to wear his red flannel shirt on Christmas Day. Most likely he just happened to put it on one Christmas, and we thought it was just the right thing to wear. After that we had great fun with Dad hiding the shirt and the rest of us trying to find it before the big day. That red flannel shirt became a tradition. It was a simple thing that still brings back wonderful memories of brothers and sisters, of mother and father, caring about each other and showing it during Christmas.

—Lisa, a high school sophomore, tells about the time the quarterback of the football team asked her to the homecoming dance.
“I couldn’t believe my luck,” she said. “One of the most high-profile guys in the school had asked me to the most prestigious dance of the year.”
Her enthusiasm dampened, though, when after the dance her date started driving down a lonely road she realized led to Lover’s Lane. Quarterback or no quarterback, she had decided long ago that “parking” was something she would not do.
To avoid embarrassment, she began talking about how this particular road reminded her of a friend’s experience. The police had caught her friend and a date parking up there, and had taken them to the police station.
“Of course, anyone who is silly enough to park deserves what they get,” she laughed. Without speaking, her date turned the car around, and a few minutes later they were sitting in her living room eating pie with her parents.

Sister Groberg remembers with deep appreciation the closeness among the youth of her age in their ward. She gives thanks, in part, to the quiet, powerful influence of a humble, dedicated Sunday School teacher whose life and example made a lasting impression. She explained: “Brother Richard Maxwell was our teacher. He was self-educated,” she recalled. “He never knew his real name, his parents, or any of his ancestors: He had been raised in an orphanage. Someway in his wandering through life, he found the true church. He had such a beautiful testimony that the gospel was what life was all about, and he had a wonderful, understanding way with young people. He loved us,” she declared, then continued with warmth in her voice: “He was able to teach and reach us in his own humble way.”
When Brother Maxwell died of a heart attack, Jean, along with the other youth in the North Hollywood Ward still in their teens, felt so grateful for his life and his love and influence in their lives that they felt they had lost a dear friend. Sister Groberg remembered that her sister, Marilyn, was invited to speak at his funeral. “She went around to all his students to get their feelings for this humble, great man who had become such a friend to each of us. Our feeling for Brother Maxwell,” Sister Groberg said, “was a very special thing.”
These grateful students felt a strong desire to somehow express their appreciation for their friend and teacher. “It took some time after he died to collect the money,” she recalled. “Several months, I believe. We sponsored many projects. We took a little box to all our firesides and finally collected the money we needed. We wanted to buy a redwood tree. We all agreed that a redwood tree, when it grew up, would appropriately symbolize Brother Maxwell’s great strength and stature.” The youth were united in this special project. Someone was responsible for having a plaque made to place at the base of the tree, and others arranged for a fitting program. On the appointed date the members of Brother Maxwell’s Sunday School class gathered together for this special memorial service. Together they planted the tree, which they knew would become in time a mighty redwood. This living tribute stands today tall and stately by the side of the chapel and a beautiful bronze plaque at its base reads, “In memory of Richard Maxwell, our beloved teacher whose example was like the redwood, tall and masterly.”

“Mom! Dad! What are you doing here?”
I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw them standing by my locker in the ninth-grade hall. Was something wrong? Death, fire, disaster all flashed through my mind. I ran the last few steps toward them and breathlessly asked, “What’s up?”
“Hello, dear. We thought it would be nice if we came and had lunch with you today,” my mother said, smiling cheerfully as my dad nodded his agreement.
“What!” My anticipation quickly turned to a growing dread. “With all my friends? In the cafeteria and everything?” I stammered as my face flamed at the thought of the entire ninth grade watching my parents and me dine on the daily special of meatballs and macaroni. How horrible!
Despite my embarrassment, lunch in the cafeteria with my parents was fun. By the end of the hour, I felt a sense of pride as I listened to my friends and my parents discussing the big game coming up that weekend and our hard classes.
“We love you and thanks for letting us come,” Mom said, hugging me.
“We are very proud of you,” said Dad as he held the cafeteria door open for Mom. I watched them through the steamy cafeteria window and realized how much I loved them.
As I think about that lunchtime now, my feelings of embarrassment have faded, but the warm, loving feeling is still strong. My parents made a small sacrifice that day, an hour of time. Yet in that hour, they brought new meaning to the words, “We love you.” I knew they really cared.

One night after the molasses making was finished, he kissed my sisters and me goodnight and said, “God bless you.” That night he went to sleep and never awoke again.
My heart broke. I didn’t want Ma to see me cry so I went out to the stable. Later she found me and, putting her arm around me, said, “George, you’re the man of the house now. You have six sisters and your Ma is depending on you.”
Well, pretty soon it was seven sisters. Just two weeks after Pa died, LaVern was born.
One evening when I saw Ma slip out alone and go toward the cemetery I followed, and found her kneeling by Pa’s grave, weeping.
Tugging at her arm, I said, “Ma, you mustn’t come here to cry. Come on home.”
Getting to her feet she drew me to her. “My little man,” was all she said.
“If Pa got permission to come for a visit, do you think he’d come to this cold old graveyard?” I asked.
Thoughtfully, she said, “No, he wouldn’t. He’d want to come home.”
Hand in hand we walked silently through the twilight.
Shortly after that, Ma put Pa’s picture on the easel in the living room. “Children,” she said, “in this home we will live exactly as Pa would want us to do. Because he loved the Lord we have been blessed.” Her voice broke, but only for a moment.
We knew she missed Pa, but she kept herself busy making our home happy. As we grew, it became the gathering place for all of the young folks in town, especially on Sunday afternoons when Ma would sing with us around the organ.

The sisters in Cache Valley, Utah, ministered to the Saints in the spirit of the Relief Society to “work in unity to help those in need.”5 My great-grandmother Margaret McNeil Ballard served at the side of her husband, Henry, as he presided as bishop of the Logan Second Ward for 40 years. Margaret was the ward Relief Society president for 30 of those years. She took into their home the poor, the sick, and the widowed and orphaned, and she even clothed the dead in their clean temple robes.