Gospel Story Finder

I stayed at school for the next few weekends taking midterms. The next weekend I was home, I was curious to see how Todd was doing. Mom said he still worked the fun house job and was still working in the nursery, along with Carlie Maxwell. I was amazed, especially since Jolene Sparks had moved back east in preparation for her first semester of college.

On Sunday, I peeked into the nursery just before church let out. Carlie was rocking a child who had fallen asleep. I saw Tara come up and swing her arms around Todd’s neck, planting a big wet kiss on his cheek. Todd was wearing a bunny hat and hopping around, and all the children had on paper bunny hats, too, with wildly scribbled ears.

The bell rang to dismiss classes, and parents started coming in. Paul Myerson started to cry. He wanted to stay with Todd.

Sister Jensen came in for her little boy, beaming at Todd.

“I don’t know what you’ve been doing, but keep doing it!” she said. “Tyler loves to come to nursery now. I’ve been able to get to my class and get set up to teach my lesson instead of being late all the time.”

Other moms and dads were similarly impressed.

The nursery emptied until there was just Todd, Scottie, and me.

“Wow,” I said, stunned. “You’ve done a great job with these children.” The toys were put up, and the floor and the table and tiny chairs were clean.

“This is the best calling I’ve ever had,” Todd said. “It’s a lot of work, but these little kids are worth it.” He tickled Scottie and swung him in his arms.

Lindsey Walch and Carson Evers, two 17-year-olds from the Santa Cruz California Stake, had to decide what the Sabbath meant to them. When challenges came, they made their decision and found greater understanding and peace.
Carson’s game is basketball, and he loves to play in tournaments. The problem, of course, is that many tournaments include Sunday in their schedules.
“At this one particular tournament we had a chance in the finals, which were on a Sunday,” he says. “I was thinking about going because it was the final big tournament. I said to myself, ‘I don’t want to give up. I don’t think it’s right.’”
When he talked to his coach, he felt even more pressure. “He was kind of pushing me to go because we were in the finals of the big tournament.”
What made it even more difficult were his own prior choices. “Before then I was kind of used to making exceptions,” he says. “I used to go play some on Sunday every once in a while for tournaments. I always played my worst game then. It just never worked out.”
But this time he made a decision about what the Sabbath meant to him. “I talked about it with my parents,” he says. “They said, ‘Whatever you decide.’ I always hate that when they make you choose.”
Carson also received support for his decision from a friend and teammate, who is also LDS and chooses not to play on Sunday. “It’s kind of easy for me, because he is a member,” says Carson. “He’s like my best friend, and we always play sports together. And it’s easier for me because we both don’t do that stuff on Sundays. It’s just good having another person there. I’m not the only one.”
When Carson made his decision not to play, it had quite an effect on him. “I had this good feeling about it when I went to church that Sunday,” he says. “I knew I needed to be there and not at my tournament. That whole day, I just knew—that nice little chill up the spine feeling, you know?”
Attending church is an important part of the Sabbath for Carson, particularly renewing his covenants and remembering the Savior through the sacrament. “It makes me keep the Sabbath day a little more holy,” he says. “It helps me think of the Sabbath as a holy day and not just a day of rest.”
So what does the Sabbath mean to Carson?
“For me, it’s about showing respect for Heavenly Father and what He commanded,” he says. “It’s resting, taking a day off, just getting back in the groove. By the end of the week I’m burned out; I’m done. I always need a rest.”
One of his favorite things about Sunday is spending time with his family. “It’s just good to have one day just with my family to get to know them better,” he says. “During the week I don’t have the time to be with my family as much as I’d like. So Sunday’s a pretty good day to be with them.”

David worked hard in physical therapy because he was determined to serve a mission. Some of his friends said serving a mission wasn’t necessary since he was in a wheelchair, but David didn’t agree. “I knew the Lord wanted me to serve,” he says, “so I decided I would do everything in my power to make it possible.”
Soon he could shower and dress himself, drive his car, and take his wheelchair just about anywhere. In fact, after his doctor said it was impossible, David even learned to put on a brace and walk with crutches by moving his shoulders to push his body forward. For someone with no sense of balance or ability to feel the ground under him, this was an incredible feat.
After high school graduation David couldn’t wait to turn 19 and send in his mission papers. His doctor attached a note verifying he was totally independent.
But it was not to be. Instead of a calling, David’s letter informed him he could not serve a full-time proselyting mission.
“I was crushed,” says David. “I had worked so hard, and it seemed it was all taken away from me in just a matter of seconds.” But David didn’t quit. In an interview at Church headquarters, he was assured there was a mission for him.
One week later he was called to serve a welfare mission at the Deseret Industries (D.I.) in St. George, Utah, while living at home with his parents. David was not prepared for such a call. “To tell the truth, I was disappointed again,” he says. But he kept thinking of the words to a Primary song: “I will go; I will do” (“Nephi’s Courage,” Children’s Songbook, 120–21). He realized the Lord wanted him to serve at Deseret Industries, a Church-owned thrift store and job-training facility. At D.I. David would help those who were working to gain and improve their job skills.
“I look back now and think how foolish I was. I had no clue what a blessing this mission would be,” David says.
Not only has David been blessed, but his sense of humor and positive attitude touched more than 250 people he worked with through D.I.’s self-sufficiency and missionary programs. “Whenever we were having a bad day, we would just come and find Elder Eves,” says Debbie Kelly, a trainee. “When we saw how happy and positive he was, even in a wheelchair, we would ask ourselves, ‘What are we complaining about?’”
As a missionary, Elder Eves spent mornings tutoring trainees who were working on their high school certificates or an equivalent diploma. “I could not have passed my math section without him,” says Brandy, a single mother working to improve her employment skills.
But David’s tutoring wasn’t just about teaching educational skills. He also taught the missionary discussions to Rita Roberts, another trainee. “He helped me understand the gospel step by step,” Rita says. “And I knew I could count on him for anything. He and his family helped me move twice. You couldn’t find a better person—not just in the classroom, but anywhere. He’s unique.”
Besides tutoring staff members, David was responsible for many devotionals at D.I.
“One day it was Elder Eves’s turn to give the devotional,” says Sister Scott, another welfare missionary at D.I. “Everyone was there but him. In a few minutes, in he came, walking with his braces. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room as he talked to us about overcoming adversity and working with your hand in God’s to accomplish any goal.”
David loved serving at D.I., but his missionary efforts didn’t stop there. In the evenings, he team taught with full-time missionaries. These efforts resulted in several conversions, including one young woman who asked him to perform the baptism.
“I figured if she had enough faith to ask me to baptize her, I had enough faith to find a way to do it,” remembers Elder Eves. And so on 1 January 2000, Elder Eves sat in his shower chair in the font, said the baptismal prayer, and lowered Robin Rasmussen into the water. No one will ever forget the spirit present that day.
David brings a feeling of hope and peace wherever he is. And his sense of humor puts others at ease. “If others see me joking, they are more comfortable around me,” he explains. “When they realize I’m happy because of the gospel and my many blessings, the whole wheelchair thing disappears and they see me as a person.”
And counting blessings is what Elder Eves concentrates on. “The one thing my mission taught me more than anything else is how blessed I am. When I saw the problems some of these people at D.I. deal with, I wondered if I could do what they do. I have a family who loves me, I have the gospel, and I have had the opportunity to serve the Lord on a mission. I couldn’t ask for more,” he says.
David currently attends college on a full scholarship and exercises on his bike and braces. “I work out in those leg braces every day to keep my legs stretched so that when I do walk again I’ll be ready,” he says. And he says it with the same confidence with which he bears his testimony.
“I love Doctrine and Covenants 121:7–8: ‘My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment; and then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high.’ I know Joseph Smith was the prophet of the Restoration and that Jesus Christ is our Savior and loves each of us. Sometimes when we’re going through hard times, it seems like we’re alone, but we’re really not. He’s right there with us. And with this knowledge, everything else falls into place.”

Before Aryn C. from Arkansas was born, her father, Steve, seriously injured his back and shoulder in an accident while serving in the U.S. Navy. He endured many surgeries while she was growing up, and he still is in nearly constant pain. Aryn became his “little nurse” as she held his hand while his bandages were being changed. When she was little, she walked on his back to help ease his pain.
As Aryn grew up, her dad was concerned she would be embarrassed when he was in a wheelchair or used crutches or a cane. Steve comments, “Aryn always said, ‘Dad, you’re not embarrassing me. I’d rather have you here.’ She definitely helps me cope with my disabilities. I’m lucky to have a strong family; all six of our children have helped me get through the hard times.”
Although it’s hard to see her dad in pain, Aryn loves being able to help. She says she’s learned compassion and respect, especially for those who are disabled. “The gospel helps me keep a bigger perspective on life. Everyone is different, and everyone has challenges, but we can overcome them with faith in Jesus Christ,” she observes. “It’s nice to know that.”
Her mother, Sonja, says, “Her father had to miss a lot of Aryn’s activities while she was growing up because of his surgeries and health problems. She played the flute in her high school’s marching band, so he tried his best to go to as many games as he could and enjoyed watching Aryn march in the band.”
Aryn understands that there are some things her father can’t do. “We find ways to work around the disability, such as video recording programs and events that he can’t go to.”
One of the challenges their family faces comes from the emotional ups and downs that are part of her father’s disability. Aryn says they learned to be patient with one another, and when a problem comes up, they talk it out. She advises, “Don’t argue. If something is just a little irritating, think about whether it needs to be addressed or not. If it isn’t important, don’t cause unnecessary upset by bringing it up.” Her dad adds, “Forgiveness is an important part of working together. I have also found that humor helps big-time.”
Both Aryn and her dad agree that attending church, praying, and reading the scriptures help them through hard times.
“I have discovered that the gospel helps me see more clearly how to handle challenges,” Aryn says. “I admire how my dad keeps going, even through the pain. He keeps his testimony strong by going to church and doing his callings, even when it’s hard for him. He reads his scriptures and gains strength from them.”
In return, her dad admires Aryn’s devotion to the gospel. “Watching her choose good friends and seeing her testimony develop helps me gain a stronger testimony,” he says. “She sets the example for me.”
Through the years, Aryn has been there as her father has had many priesthood blessings. He says the counsel given in blessings helps him keep a positive attitude. “The priesthood blessings I have received and reading the scriptures help me keep the faith. I have also learned that when people want to help you, let them. At first I didn’t want others’ help, but then I discovered that it makes a difference to me, and it’s good for them too. We all benefit.”
Aryn appreciates her parents’ examples and love. “They have their hard times, but they work it out. And I like how they stay strong with their testimonies.”
For her senior writing project, Aryn wrote about why her father is her hero. Here’s part of what she wrote: “I am so proud of my dad. He helps me when I need it. He is humorous, knowledgeable, and easy to talk to.” Aryn adds, “When I was about four years old, I made up a word for love that just my dad and I say to each other. We still use it.”

I had another choice experience with impelling revelation a few months after I began my service at BYU. As a new and inexperienced president, I had many problems to analyze and many decisions to reach. I was very dependent on the Lord. One day in October, I drove up Provo Canyon to ponder a particular problem. Although alone and without any interruption, I found myself unable to think of the problem at hand. Another pending issue I was not yet ready to consider kept thrusting itself into my mind: Should we modify BYU’s academic calendar to complete the Fall Semester before Christmas? After ten or fifteen minutes of unsuccessful efforts to exclude thoughts of this subject, I finally realized what was happening. The issue of the calendar did not seem timely to me, and I was certainly not seeking any guidance on it, but the Spirit was trying to communicate with me on that subject. I immediately turned my full attention to that question and began to record my thoughts on a piece of paper. Within a few minutes, I had recorded the details of a three-semester calendar, with all of its powerful advantages. Hurrying back to the campus, I reviewed it with my colleagues and found them enthusiastic. A few days later the Board of Trustees approved our proposed new calendar, and we published its dates, barely in time to make them effective in the fall of 1972. Since that time, I have reread these words of the Prophet Joseph Smith and realized that I had the experience he described:

A person may profit by noticing the first intimation of the spirit of revelation; for instance, when you feel pure intelligence flowing into you, it may give you sudden strokes of ideas . . . and thus by learning the Spirit of God and understanding it, you may grow into the principle of revelation. [Teachings, p. 151]

Among the early Saints who gathered to Zion was Hannah Last Cornaby, who settled in Spanish Fork, Utah, USA. In the difficult early days of the restored Church, Christmas was sometimes marked with a precious orange or a carved toy or perhaps only a rag doll—but not always. Hannah wrote of December 25, 1856:
“Christmas Eve came, and my darlings, with childish faith, hung up their stockings, wondering if [they] would [be filled]. With aching heart, which I concealed from them, I assured them they would not be forgotten; and they fell asleep with joyful anticipations for the morrow.
“Not having a particle of sweetening, I knew not what to do. They must not, however, be disappointed. I then thought of some squashes in the house, which I boiled, then strained off the liquid, that, when simmered a few hours, made a sweet syrup. With this, and a little spice, I made gingerbread dough which, when cut into every conceivable variety of design, and baked in a skillet, (I had no stove,) filled their stockings and pleased them as much as would the most fancy confectionaries.”1
Between the lines of this story is an account of a mother working through the night without even an oven to ease her efforts. Yet she was committed to bring joy to her children, to reinforce their faith, to affirm in their home, “Happy day! All is well!”2 Isn’t that the message of Christmas?

Another way of saying what Alma taught came from an experience one of the General Authorities shared. He related how he spoke with a sister he knows who years earlier went through a divorce. She approached him to thank him for the counsel he gave her during her darkest hours. She reminded him what he had told her: “Now sister, don’t lose your eternal perspective. Always keep an eternal perspective.” She said that truth became her pillar of strength.

For the first 12 years of my life, my father didn’t go to church. He and my mother had been married in the temple, but he had stopped going to church after that. My mother and I prayed for him, and almost every Sunday morning we went to the edge of his bed and said, “Please get up and go to church with us.” He was never upset or unkind to us about it, but he always had something else to do.

I was an only child until I was 12 years old. Then my mother was able to have another child, a little sister. The Sunday came to take her to church to be blessed. My mother said to my father, “Your little daughter is going to be blessed today.” I said, “Dad, please come with us to church. You can’t miss it.” A little while later, he came out of the bedroom dressed in a suit, a white shirt, and a tie.

We went to church and sat on the second row in the chapel. After the opening hymn and prayer, the bishop picked up my little sister and took her to the front of the chapel to be blessed. I sat close to my father on his left side, and during the blessing I felt his arm begin to quiver. I looked up, and tears were running down his cheeks. After the blessing, I asked him, “What’s wrong?” He said, “I’ll never let this happen again.” I asked him what he meant. He answered, “I’ll never let another man do what I ought to do.”

Three or four weeks later, our bishop called my father to be a counselor in the bishopric. A year and a half later, he was called to be a member of the stake presidency.

Heavenly Father answers prayers, and people can change. Be patient. The Spirit can help people you love to change bad habits.

As many of you know, our family experienced a tender separation three months ago when our daughter Wendy departed from this mortal life. In the final days of her battle with cancer, I was blessed with the opportunity to have our farewell daddy-daughter conversation.
I held her hands and told her how much I loved her and how grateful I was to be her father. I said: “You married in the temple and faithfully honored your covenants. You and your husband welcomed seven children into your home and raised them to be devout disciples of Jesus Christ, valiant Church members, and contributing citizens. And they have chosen spouses of that same caliber. Your daddy is very, very proud of you. You have brought me much joy!”
She quietly responded, “Thank you, Daddy.”
It was a tender, tearful moment for us. During her 67 years, we worked together, sang together, and often skied together. But that evening, we talked of things that matter most, such as covenants, ordinances, obedience, faith, family, fidelity, love, and eternal life.
We miss our daughter greatly. However, because of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, we do not worry about her. As we continue to honor our covenants with God, we live in anticipation of our being with her again. Meanwhile, we’re serving the Lord here and she is serving Him there—in paradise.

One of my beloved uncles went on a mission in 1912–14 to an enlightened nation in Europe. He found great satisfaction and fulfillment in being part of the great missionary activity and in his involvement with the Saints. After his mission he remained very loyal to the Church but became somewhat inactive because he had a Word of Wisdom problem. My brothers and I used to thrill in hearing him tell about his mission. He would tell us by the hour about his mission president, his companions, the Saints, the country, and its culture. His mission was, in many ways, the highwater mark of his life. He was thrilled when we went on our missions. He treasured missionary experience; it became the destination of his life rather than a journey.

During an informal fireside address held with a group of adult Latter-day Saints, the leader directing the discussion invited participation by asking the question, “How can you tell if someone is converted to Jesus Christ?” For forty-five minutes those in attendance made numerous suggestions in response to this question, and the leader carefully wrote down each answer on a large blackboard. All of the comments were thoughtful and appropriate. But after a time, this great teacher erased everything he had written. Then, acknowledging that all of the comments had been worthwhile and appreciated, he taught a vital principle: “The best and most clear indicator that we are progressing spiritually and coming unto Christ is the way we treat other people.”

Anciently, certain women sacrificed as they testified and lived the teachings of Jesus. Certain women in the early days of the Restoration did the same. Drusilla Hendricks and her family were among those who, as new converts, suffered during the persecution of the Saints in Clay County, Missouri. Her husband was permanently paralyzed during the Battle of Crooked River. She was left to care for him as well as provide for her family.

“At one particularly distressing time, when the family was out of food, she remembered that a voice told her, ‘Hold on, for the Lord will provide.’”

When her son was needed to volunteer for the Mormon Battalion, at first Drusilla resisted and wrestled in prayer with Heavenly Father until “it was as though a voice said to her, ‘Do you not want the highest glory?’ She answered naturally, ‘Yes,’ and the voice continued, ‘How do you think to gain it save by making the greatest sacrifices?’”8

As I grew older, I learned about the blessings of doing things that at the time you don’t realize are important and good for you. When I was very little, I came down with a lung disease, but no one knew it at the time. When I grew older, I joined the air force. The doctors saw spots on my lungs. Because of the hard work of pedaling that heavy load, somehow my body had healed itself. I had built up endurance. I had built up strength. The doctors said that the disease took care of itself and that I passed my physical. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to become a pilot.

Often the Lord calls us to do difficult things that we may not be sure we want to do but that will bring great blessings. This is illustrated in the early life of President David O. McKay.

When [he] was eight years of age, his father [also named David] received a call to go on a mission. To accept such a call for two or three years away from home was no easy decision to make. Another baby was on its way, and plans had been made to enlarge the house and furnishings. The responsibilities of running the farm were too great to be left to his wife, so when David showed the letter calling him to a mission, he said: “Of course it is impossible for me to go.” Jennette read the letter, looked at her husband, and said decisively: “Of course you must accept; you need not worry about me. David O. and I will manage things nicely!”. . .
. . . In the absence of his father, the boy David quickly redirected his energies to chores and farm work. Circumstances thus helped to produce a maturity beyond his physical years. [Llewelyn R. McKay, Home Memories of President David O. McKay (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1956), 5–6]

When Juliana Circe da Costa, a member of the Colônia Branch, Jundiaí Brazil Stake, turned 18, she was worried about attending Relief Society. “I was afraid I would be alone and wouldn’t be comfortable with the adult women in the branch,” she says. “In the beginning it was strange, but the Lord has a purpose for everything. I’m not saying it was easy, but I’m grateful to the Lord and the sisters who were so wonderful to me.”
Juliana’s Relief Society president, Rita Ribereiro Pandolfi, played a key role in Juliana’s transition. “In our branch we receive the young women with open arms,” she says. “We know they face many changes when they leave Young Women and begin attending Relief Society.”

Let me share a more positive story. We have a good friend who lives with his family in a modest suburb of Idaho Falls. He and his wife had decided to put their house up for sale and purchase a larger and nicer home up in the foothills. However, he attended the October 1998 general priesthood meeting, and listened carefully to President Hinckley's address when he said:
There is a portent of stormy weather ahead to which we had better give heed... I urge you, brethren, to look to the condition of your finances. I urge you to be modest in your expenditures; discipline yourselves in your purchases to avoid debt to the extent possible. Pay off debt as quickly as you can, and free yourselves from bondage.
This is a part of the temporal gospel in which we believe. May the Lord bless you, my beloved brethren, to set your houses in order. If you have paid your debts, if you have a reserve, even though it be small, then should storms howl about your head, you will have shelter for your wives and children and peace in your hearts. That's all I have to say about it, but I wish to say it with all the emphasis of which I am capable.[6]
At that point in time in 1998, the US economy was booming, prosperity appeared to abound, and there seemed to be no end in sight. Despite that, however, my friend returned home after that priesthood meeting, and before entering his house he removed the "For Sale" sign from their front yard. He conferred with his wife, and together they decided that they weren't moving, but instead were going to stay put and work hard to get out of debt.

It was almost exactly ten years later, in October 2008, when the US housing market "bubble" burst and the US and world economy entered a severe recession. While he and his family were able to weather that storm, many of their friends in the foothills ended up losing their homes. It was obviously a huge blessing for our friends to be able to keep their home, but I suspect the greater blessings will come from their decision to heed the guidance of the prophet.

Because my school has only six members of the Church, it was extremely hard for me to find friends with the same values. I felt lost and confused. The youth in my ward were nice people, but we never really hung out. I didn’t know the other youth in my stake very well because it was so spread out.
At the peak of my confusion, my stake put on a dance festival. I love to dance, so I immediately signed up for the dance team. I think that was the best thing I ever did. I got to know most of the youth in my stake that I never would have known otherwise. These people have been welcoming and friendly, and best of all, they have the same values I do.
Since making these friends, I have been so much happier. The people I hung out with before didn’t have my values, and I felt so trapped and weak. The people in my stake have made me a stronger person, and I’m grateful for them.

This is a piece of pottery that I made when I was in kindergarten. When I was five years old, my kindergarten class was given the opportunity to make pottery. Each student in the class was given a lump of sticky clay. As my teacher explained the process of making pottery, she took great care to warn us about removing each air bubbles. At first I didn't understand how an air bubble could be harmful, but my teacher's urgent words soon explained. Any air bubbles left inside the pottery would cause it to explode when placed in the heat of the kiln. I worked and reworked the soft clay to make certain that each bubble was removed. After the kiln, I was relieved to see that my piece had surveyed and was rigid and unchangeable.
We are much like a soft piece of clay. Who will we allow to shape us--will it be the master potter, Our Heavenly Father?

My mom came from a very religious family. They went to church together. They did a lot of fun things together. I loved to hear her talk about when she was a child. I would pretend that I had been a child then too. It must have hurt her a lot to live with a man who got drunk.
She was ashamed of his drinking. She told me over and over not to tell anyone. “It’s a secret,” she’d say.
I loved her. I kept her secret. But it was lonely. I thought I was the only young person in the Church who had this kind of home.
What a relief it would have been for me to share the burden, to know that I was not alone.

Secrets
Don’t pry into your friend’s family life, but if she wants to talk, let her share her pain without interruptions or advice.
Comments such as “That must hurt a lot” or “That must have been very embarrassing” will tell her you’re really listening.
You’re not there to judge her or her dad. You’re not there to tell her how to act or feel. You’re not there to solve her problem. You’re there to listen and to care.

Secrets
It’s hard to talk about alcoholism, but it’s even harder to bear your burden all alone.
The Church has counselors who will talk with you. Your bishop can help you reach them. They will keep everything you tell them confidential.
Alcoholics Anonymous has a group for young people who live with alcoholic adults.
Or you may want to talk to a trusted friend—perhaps your bishop or a teacher.

At sacrament meeting I watched other families sit together. I watched them smile at each other. I wanted my dad to be there. I wanted our family to sit together.
But he never came to church. He said they didn’t like him because he drank beer. My ward had parties for fathers and their children. I helped plan these parties. I never got to go to them.
On Father’s Day our ward gave rosebuds to all the fathers. I helped pick every rosebud in our garden. My dad didn’t come to the meeting.
I hated it when they talked about temple marriage at church. I hated hearing my family was different. I knew as long as my father drank we could not go to the temple. I loved my mother. I loved my dad. I wanted to be with them forever. It’s very difficult to sit in class when they are teaching about the temple.
I just kept going to church. I decided I would not drink. I decided I would be married in the temple.
I’m an adult now, and I definitely don’t drink. I have been married in the temple, and I’m happy that my children are sealed to me.
Left Out
Even Church meetings and activities can be painful for your friend.
If you see her sitting alone, ask her to sit with your family.
Ask her to join you and your dad at the daddy-daughter dance or find a “substitute dad” for her.
Lessons on temple marriage can be very sad for someone who sees no hope of ever being sealed to her parents. Be sensitive to this.
If the fathers at church get a boutonniere, offer her one to take home to her dad.

Left Out
Sitting alone in church is no fun.
Lessons on temple marriage hurt.
Father-daughter activities are painful.
But remember that we are all brothers and sisters, and there are many kind and loving people in your ward who would like to be your friend. Reach out to them and let them reach out to you.
Also, you can resolve that you will marry in the temple and be active.
In the meanwhile, invite your father to take part. Assure him that perfection is not a prerequisite for Church activity.

I was afraid a lot.
I was afraid my dad would kill himself while driving drunk. I was afraid he’d kill someone else when he was driving drunk.
Late at night I would lie in my bed with all the lights out. I would wait and wait to hear his car pull in. I’d pray over and over, “Please help him get home safely. Please don’t let him hit anyone.”
In the morning I’d look at how the car was parked in the driveway. Sometimes it would be barely an inch from the house. Sometimes it would be over into the neighbor’s flowers.
I was afraid he’d embarrass me. He did. He’d wake up from sleeping off a drunk and not really be sober. He’d stumble out of the bedroom. He’d stink of beer. He’d say dumb things. I hated it.
My real friends still liked me. Still, it was embarrassing.
I was afraid my parents would get a divorce. Many times they would have fights when my dad drank. He had a black leather suitcase in his closet. He’d get it out and start packing his clothes. If it were daytime I’d run out of the house. One day I took my dad’s white pocketknife with me. I wanted to have something of his if he left.
Sometimes I was afraid my parents would not get a divorce. I was afraid they would keep living together and I would never have a home that was nice. I thought my mother and I could go live with my grandparents. It sounded so safe.
Fear
Your friend may worry that her dad will get into an accident while driving drunk.
She may be afraid her parents will divorce. Or she may be equally afraid this painful way of living will go on forever.
She fears that her dad may embarrass her with inappropriate behavior.
She’s afraid no one will like her because of her father’s actions.
Of these fears only the last one is within your control. Make very sure your friend knows that you love and respect her. Your friendship can help reduce the corrosive effects of all the other fears.
Fear
Your life is full of fears—fear of a drunken accident, fear of divorce, fear of humiliation—the list seems endless.
I wish I could give you an easy formula for banishing fear, but I can’t. For one thing, many of your fears are well grounded.
I can only give you two bits of advice. First, when you are afraid, pray. Our Father in Heaven knows your fears and can help you master them.
Second, let some trusted adult counselor help you distinguish between real dangers and imaginary ones. With so many real things to fear, there is no room for phantoms.
The movies and television show handsome men and beautiful women drinking. These people do clever and funny things.
My dad didn’t do clever things. He did disgusting things. He would wet the bed. I would have to strip off the sheets and blankets. Then it was my job to turn over that big, blue, wet mattress. I would grab hold for all I was worth. I pulled. I pushed. It would spring back at me. The wet smelly thing would be in my face.
He threw up. He threw up and then threw up some more. My bedroom was next to the bathroom. I would bury my head in my pillow. I didn’t like that sickening smell.
Sometimes my dad would walk around without clothes on when he was drunk.
He never hit me when he was drunk. But lots of people do get mean when they drink. They hit their children and abuse their families.
Now I’m an adult I can forgive him. I know now that alcoholism requires treatment. He did the best he could do without help. But I didn’t forgive him while we were living in the same house.
Shame and Anger
Drunk people do disgusting things. They may even abuse their children.
Your friend will be both shamed and angered by these actions. And she may feel guilty about her anger. Let her know that she has a right to be angry.
Just help her channel that anger so it doesn’t cause her serious trouble.
Shame and Anger
If you sometimes feel angry at your dad and embarrassed to be his child, don’t feel guilty about it. It’s okay to feel angry. Anyone in your circumstances would feel that way.
And if you haven’t been able to forgive him, keep trying, but don’t feel guilty about that either.
Forgiving is not an easy virtue to master, and nobody’s holding a stopwatch on you.
It was Christmas Eve. I sat by our tree. I remember the sparkling icicles and the glowing red and white lights. I was sad my dad wasn’t home. He was drinking at some bar.
It’s not the way I wanted Christmas to be.
Drinking ruined birthdays. It ruined Thanksgiving. It ruined New Year’s and Easter and other days.
Holidays were often the saddest, loneliest, most painful times of the year. On those days the contrast was sharp and bitter between how life could and should be and how it really was.
Merry Christmas
Holidays are hard for your friend, so don’t forget her. Have her over to your house. If it would not offend her parents, you might invite her to spend the holiday with your family. And always remember her birthday.
Merry Christmas
Work with your mother to make holidays as happy as possible for your brothers and sisters. The real joy of every holiday comes from serving.
Also, if your friends want to brighten their own season by serving you, let them.
Most people do the best they can.
I believe my dad did his best. Maybe he could have done better if he had joined Alcoholics Anonymous. Perhaps a hospital for alcoholics might have helped. Maybe going to a counselor would have helped. But he didn’t get help.
Living with him was very difficult. Living with him was disgusting sometimes. Living with him was embarrassing sometimes. Living with him was sad many times.
Sometimes I was ashamed of him. Sometimes I was scared of him.
Other times I felt angry when our Mormon neighbors didn’t seem to like him. I knew he was a good person when he was sober. Why couldn’t other people see it?
One of my children asked me what I did for fun when I was a child. Initially I didn’t have an answer. Of course, I had some good times. But the strongest memories all involve alcohol.
Alcohol steals childhood. Instead of a parade of carefree days, there is premature responsibility. Instead of happiness, there is anger and fear and guilt. Instead of openness and trust there is secrecy. Often there is estrangement from the Church.
But I survived, and others can too, if we all help. I hope we will.
What Now?
Your friend lives in a different world—a world full of well-founded fears, a world where nothing is simple.
The same person she loves causes her great pain.
If you genuinely like her, show it, but please don’t take her on as a two-month project and then drop her. She has enough reasons to distrust people without that.
Respect her and respect the confidentiality of anything she tells you.
You can’t eliminate her pain. You can’t force a change in her home.
What you can do is care about her. You can understand, accept, help, support, encourage, and love her.
You can help her feel her Heavenly Father’s love.
What Now?
Your biggest job now is to take care of yourself. Remember that you are not alone. Our Father in Heaven knows and loves you perfectly. You have not shed a tear or prayed a prayer that he is not aware of. He wants things to be better for you.
He will give you inspiration and comfort.
He will send teachers and leaders and friends to help you. Accept their help and their love.
Don’t be too hard on yourself. You don’t have to be perfect by tomorrow.
You’ve got a lifetime ahead of you, and it will get easier.
You can make it. It’s not easy, but I know you can do it.
Don’t ever give up.

We moved to a new state and city four months before Christmas. There are ten in my family, five of us teenagers, and this was our first move. We were having a hard time adjusting.
My mother announced that we would be doing a family project of helping a nonmember family in our neighborhood. We didn’t know them very well, but the service project helped us take the focus away from our own lonely feelings.
After Christmas, the mother of that family of five told my mother that her husband was out of work and she was supporting the family on a part-time job. It turned out to be one of the best Christmases they’d ever had.
—Adrienne Pippin, 15Portland, Oregon