Gospel Story Finder

One of the bishop’s duties was to send to every serviceman a subscription to the Church News and to the Improvement Era and to write a personal letter to him each month. Since President Monson had served in the navy in World War II, he appreciated the importance of a letter from home. He had 23 ward members serving in the military, so he called a sister in the ward to handle the details of mailing these letters. One evening he handed her the monthly stack of 23 letters.
“Bishop, don’t you ever get discouraged?” she asked. “Here is another letter to Brother Bryson. This is the 17th letter you have sent to him without a reply.”
“Well, maybe this will be the month,” he said. It was. The reply from Brother Bryson read: “Dear Bishop, I ain’t much at writin’ letters. Thank you for the Church News and magazines, but most of all thank you for the personal letters. I have turned over a new leaf. I have been ordained a priest in the Aaronic Priesthood. My heart is full. I am a happy man.”
President Monson saw in that letter the practical application of the adage “Do your duty, that is best. Leave unto the Lord the rest.” Years later, while attending a stake conference, he spoke of his experience of writing to the servicemen. After the meeting, a young man came up to him and asked, “Bishop, do you remember me?”
Without a pause President Monson replied, “Brother Bryson! How are you? What are you doing in the Church?”
The former serviceman replied with great pleasure that he was fine and serving in his elders quorum presidency. “Thank you again for your concern for me and the personal letters which you sent and which I treasure.”5

As I walked out of school and got on my bus, I wished it was Friday, but not for the same reasons other people did. I never went to movies with friends on Friday nights, I didn’t hang out at the mall on Saturdays, and my Saturday nights were spent at home watching television instead of at parties. I looked forward to weekends because on Sunday I saw my friends.
I was the only Mormon at my school and things had not been going well. I didn’t have many friends there, and I walked to all of my classes alone. I watched all the other people in their groups and pairs and wished I belonged. As the year went along, I became even more depressed. I prayed every night that I could find some way to be happy.
Then one Sunday after an especially bad week, help came in my Beehive class. The lesson was about life’s everyday afflictions. My teacher had made a small paper kite for each of us. Written on it was a scripture: “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; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes” (D&C 121:7–8).
There, on that little paper kite, was the answer to my prayers. After all, the problems I had at school were only temporary. If I concentrated on my goal of eternal life, I could endure all my troubles.
Years later, I still remember the little yellow kite that lifted me out of my emotional slump and let my spirit soar.

At the same time that I was caring for Mary, I had another patient whom I will call Jane. She was 42 years of age. Like Mary, she had a malignancy that could not be cured. Soon after she learned she had a terminal disease, she left home, moved into a local hotel, and followed a life-style in exact opposition to gospel teachings. She visited the bars and drank heavily, and she tried narcotics. In her own words, she was “living it up before she died.” She died screaming in pain, cursing God.

Some years ago our family encountered a major challenge. I went to the temple and there prayed earnestly for help. I was given a moment of truth. I received a clear impression of my weaknesses, and I was shocked. In that spiritually instructive moment, I saw a prideful woman doing things her own way, not necessarily the Lord’s way, and privately taking credit for any so-called accomplishment. I knew I was looking at myself. I cried out in my heart to Heavenly Father and said, “I don’t want to be that woman, but how do I change?”

Through the pure spirit of revelation in the temple, I was taught of my utter need for a Redeemer. I turned immediately to the Savior Jesus Christ in my thoughts and felt my anguish melt away and a great hope spring up in my heart. He was my only hope, and I longed to cling only to Him. It was clear to me that a self-absorbed natural woman “is an enemy to God”7 and to people in her sphere of influence. In the temple that day I learned it was only through the Atonement of Jesus Christ that my prideful nature could change and that I would be enabled to do good. I felt His love keenly, and I knew He would teach me by the Spirit and change me if I gave my heart to Him, holding back nothing.

I still fight my weaknesses, but I trust in the divine help of the Atonement. This pure instruction came because I entered the holy temple, seeking relief and answers. I entered the temple burdened, and I left knowing I had an all-powerful and all-loving Savior. I was lighter and joyful because I had received His light and accepted His plan for me.

When the alarm went off at 5:00 a.m., 17-year-old Yee Mun Lim got out of bed and got ready for the day. She left the house at 5:20 for seminary. At 6:30 a.m. she hurried to school, where she stayed until 7:00 p.m. for classes and co-curricular activities. Then she rushed to the stake center by public transport to practice for the stake musical production.
This was the standard routine of most youth in the Singapore Stake every Friday for five months. Sometimes exhaustion and fatigue set in, but throughout the entire preparation for the musical production, When a Prophet Speaks, there were no complaints or regrets, because the youth felt that the sacrifices they made were worthwhile. “This is the most amazing, awesome, spiritually uplifting, fun-filled, and heart-warming event I ever took part in,” said Yee Mun, of the Singapore Second Ward.

Other stories weren’t as bright. When my grandma was little, her three older brothers left to fight in World War II. “My brother came in to say goodbye to me,” she told me, “but I pretended to be asleep—I thought if I didn’t say goodbye to him, he wouldn’t leave.” I pictured the tears on her cheeks when she woke up to find him already gone. It reminded me of my own tears as I said goodbye to my brother when he left to serve his mission in Bolivia. I realized that, like me, my grandma loved her family deeply.

For many years my wife and children and I have had the tradition of spending summer vacation on a small beach near our home in southern Brazil. Sometimes we moved because of work, but no matter how far we lived from that small beach, we always made the annual trip with much anticipation and joy. Likewise, extended family members and friends would travel long distances so we could all be together once a year. Everyone came as early as they could and stayed as long as possible.
At that small beach our family had many wonderful opportunities for spiritual growth and gospel teaching. Most of our extended family members were not members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and did not share our religious beliefs. To them the Lord’s day was just another day to play and have fun. Because more of the family would be at the beach on weekends than during the other days of the week, our presence and participation in Sunday activities was not only expected but also insistently requested—including by our children.
Our children were small and only just learning to apply the truths of the gospel. To them the temptation of participating in activities with their cousins and friends on Sundays was great. Spending time with family is an important part of the gospel, and breaking the Sabbath would have been easy to rationalize. After all, the closest unit of the Church at that time was more than 60 miles (96 km) away from the beach. Our friends and neighbors in our home congregation were far away, and none of them would ever know if we stayed at the beach instead of driving to the chapel and attending our meetings on Sunday. We went to church the entire year, and our extended family could be together only a few weeks a year.
Nevertheless, we never missed going to church on Sundays—not even once! We remembered the Lord’s teachings:
“And that thou mayest more fully keep thyself unspotted from the world, thou shalt go to the house of prayer and offer up thy sacraments upon my holy day;
“For verily this is a day appointed unto you to rest from your labors, and to pay thy devotions unto the Most High; …
“But remember that on this, the Lord’s day, thou shalt offer thine oblations and thy sacraments unto the Most High. …
“And on this day thou shalt do none other thing, only let thy food be prepared with singleness of heart that thy fasting may be perfect, or, in other words, that thy joy may be full” (D&C 59:9–13).
We chose to keep this commandment, and we taught our children that they should keep it as well. Soon they understood that it was more important to worship God on His holy day than to please family and friends or to satisfy their own desires.
On Sundays at the beach, we would wake up early, dress up for Sunday worship, and travel by car to the nearest chapel. During our trip and throughout the entire day, we would enjoy the peace and joy the Lord has promised to those who keep His commandments. We came to learn that this feeling of peace and joy does not come from the world.
After several years of this routine, something wonderful happened. Our children stopped questioning the importance of worshipping God on His holy day, and several of our children’s cousins began to ask if they could go to church with us! Little did we know that the feeling of peace and joy we felt was also being felt by our nieces and nephews upon our return from our meetings. Eventually a great blessing resulted. After some of those children became adolescents, two of them from one family told their parents, “We want to become Latter-day Saints.” Soon the entire family was baptized. Recently, one of the children, now a returned missionary, was married in the temple.
We still go to that beach every year, but everyone knows that on Sunday our family will not be there to play. Instead, we will go to church and worship God with family members who join us—a group that is becoming larger and larger every year!
When we look back on those years and think about the choice we made, we thank God for helping us have the courage to do what was right and to teach our children to do the same. We don’t have the slightest doubt that that decision strengthened our children as well as our extended family. It gave us the Lord’s promised peace, played an important role in the conversion of family members, and blessed us with a satisfaction not found in alternative Sunday activities that do not fill the soul.

Elder Sorensen remembered that some of the happiest times that he had were the summers he spent with his cousins on his uncle’s farm in Idaho. “Three of us boys, all about the same age, slept in an old bed out in the orchard under an apple tree. It was there on the farm that I learned to milk cows, thin beets, and weed potatoes. We were allowed to help thresh the peas when the big steam threshing machine came to our farm. Some people thought that that was hard work, but I thought that it was fun—and I still like to ‘farm’ in my big garden in Salt Lake City when I can.”

After I had investigated the Church for two months, the missionaries taught me about the law of tithing and invited me to pay tithing after I joined the Church. It seemed impossible with my limited income, but before I could tell them how I felt, we ended the discussion.
That Sunday at church, the branch president greeted me. I asked him about tithing, and he promised to meet with me privately after the meeting block.
When we met, I explained, “The missionaries told me that I need to pay one-tenth of my income to the Church when I become a member. I don’t know if I can do it.”
After listening to my concern, the president opened the Book of Mormon, turned to 3 Nephi 24:10, and read, “Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse … and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of Hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing that there shall not be room enough to receive it.” Then he said, “Brother Ko, look carefully where the Lord said, ‘Prove me now herewith.’ That is His invitation to you. Why don’t you try Him by paying tithing first thing next month and see if He will not bless you.”
Shortly thereafter I began my experiment with tithing and joined the Church. Since that time I have developed a new concept of money management. Most of all, I have learned for myself that God has poured out a blessing, and there has not been room to receive it. I learned that we must keep God’s commandments before we can expect His blessings.

It is related of Spinola and Richardet, the ambassadors sent by the king of Spain to negotiate a treaty at the Hague in Holland in 1608, that one day they saw about eight or ten persons land from a little boat and, sitting down upon the grass, proceed to eat a meal of bread, cheese, and drink.
“Who are those travelers?” asked the ambassadors of a peasant.
“These are our worshipped masters, the deputies from the state,” was his reply.
Spinola at once whispered, “These are not men to be conquered.” (From Happy Homes and the Hearts That Make Them by Samuel Smiles.)

I’m tired of counting cows and license plates. It’s my turn to read the new Friend.
Not till I finish reading Sister Simon’s Saints.
Simple Simon’s Saints is dumb. I want to do the Funstuf.
Mom, Dad—Matt’s being rude! He called Sister Simon’s Saints “Simple Simon’s Saints.”
Dad, Mom—make her give me the Friend. It’s my turn.
What do you think Jesus would do?
OK, keep it then.
No, you take it.
Isn’t there a way you can both be happy?
Hey what if we read Sister Simon’s Saints together, and then did a puzzle?
OK!

Constancy #4: Develop and live within a budget. A friend of mine has a daughter who went overseas with a BYU study-abroad program for a semester. She was constantly writing home for more money. His concern was such that he called her long-distance and questioned her about the need for the additional funds. At one point in the conversation the daughter explained, “But dad, I can tell you where every penny you have sent me has been spent.”
He replied, “You don’t seem to get the point. I’m interested in a budget—a plan for spending—not in a diary of where the money has gone.”

Two boys in the Olathe Second Ward, Olathe Kansas Stake, recently completed unusual projects in order to earn their Eagle Scout Awards.
After visiting the Haun’s Mill Massacre Site in Caldwell County, Missouri, David Shumway wanted to do something to honor and remember the 17 Church members who were killed there in 1838. He hung signs so that visitors could find the site, and he organized the Scouts in his ward in beautifying the area around the historical marker.

One moment that will always stand out in my mind was the day I came home from the hospital after I was diagnosed with leukemia. The young women and Relief Society sisters had moved my stuff from the basement into a room on the main floor so I would be closer to my parents and wouldn’t have to use the stairs. They had cleaned and decorated the room to make a great place for me to live while I was sick. My family was the recipient of many other service projects. In the beginning, it was hard for me to accept service. When people would do service for me, it would make me feel like I couldn’t do anything for myself. However, I soon learned that it was OK to ask for help. When I started feeling better, I began looking for opportunities to serve other people more. Now I try to serve as much as I can. I get a good feeling when I serve other people. I have come to realize that by letting other people serve me, I allow them the same good feelings.

When I was young, my parents took me to different churches. Later, as a teenager, I began to turn to God and started reading the Bible. I felt good.
As I thought about God and the purpose of life, I realized that it was important to have a family. I believed that church leaders should teach by example, but in the church I had attended, the priests were not married. That didn’t make sense to me. I believed it was good to be married and have a family.
I was 16 years old then. I had a girlfriend I loved very much, but she left me. That was hard for me. I suffered a lot for almost a year. Because of that experience, I wanted to understand where I came from, why I was on earth, what the purpose of life is, and what happens after death. I wanted to find the answer to these questions on my own. But after thinking about them a long time, I turned to God again and said to myself, “The Creator of life knows life better than I do. I should find answers from Him.”
Reading the Bible, I learned that Jesus called twelve Apostles. “If God had a church today,” I thought, “it should have Apostles.” I became more and more attracted to religion, and I wanted to be baptized.
When I talked about God with my father, he told me that God is just. He said either you are baptized to be saved, or you are damned to hell forever. I didn’t want to believe that a loving Father in Heaven would take pleasure in sending His children to hell forever just because they hadn’t been baptized. What about those who didn’t have a chance to be baptized?
In France, there are few believers. I had friends who were nice, but they weren’t baptized. I concluded that it was not right to think they would all go to hell.
So, I decided to form my own beliefs. I believed in a God whose love is perfect and who would do everything in His power to save His children. If His children don’t want to receive His glory, that would be up to them. But He would give them a chance.
One day two full-time missionaries who were working in my village felt prompted to take a detour to go home. On their way home, they met my mother. She stopped them and made an appointment for me to meet them. I wasn’t happy about that. I didn’t want to talk to them. I thought they would say, “You must listen to us. You must believe what we are going to tell you.”
When the missionaries arrived for our meeting, I told them, “Don’t waste your time. I have my own beliefs. What you are doing is good, but I believe that family is very important. I believe that church leaders should be married. I believe that a church should have twelve Apostles. I believe that God will save as many of His children as He can. And I don’t believe in smoking and drinking.”
I was surprised to learn that their teachings matched my beliefs. They gave me a Book of Mormon and asked me to pray about it. I felt the Spirit when I read the book, and I felt the Spirit with the missionaries. But I thought, “Maybe I’m just creating these positive feelings.”
I prayed and got an answer in a dream. In my dream, I opened the Bible. Inside the Bible were tabs with the different books of the Bible. The last tab said “Mormon.” This message helped me understand that the Bible and the Book of Mormon contained the same gospel (see Ezekiel 37:15–19).
My testimony was further strengthened through other experiences reading and studying the Book of Mormon. When the missionaries invited me to be baptized, I accepted with joy. I was baptized exactly one year after my girlfriend left me. My baptism marked a big change in my life. I lost some friends when I joined the Church, but I found new ones in the branch I attended.
“The gospel brought me a lot of light and happiness,” says Nicolas. “God blessed me. I met a good woman, and we have three good daughters.”
The gospel brought me a lot of light and happiness. I was filled with the Spirit and with joy. I thought, “All that I have suffered before has brought me here.”
God blessed me. I met a good woman, and we have three good daughters. Two of them have served missions, helping others understand what I came to understand years ago: “The family is central to the Creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children,” “the dead who repent will be redeemed, through obedience to the ordinances of the house of God” (Doctrine and Covenants 138:58), and the Lord calls apostles and prophets in our day to lead His Church (see Ephesians 2:20).

One summer some of the youth in my stake were asked to put on a play commemorating the life of the Prophet Joseph Smith. Many of my friends were involved, and I was excited to watch the performance. About a week before opening night, I received a phone call from one of the directors. She told me that one of the actors would not be able to participate and asked if I could fill in for him. I was surprised, but I accepted.
Because I’d joined the cast so late in the rehearsal schedule, I had less than a week to learn my lines and know what to do during the scenes I was onstage. By our first performance, I felt confident in my role, but I was still unfamiliar with much of the play’s content. One night I decided to watch the rest of the play from backstage. The play was wonderful, and during the scene where Joseph and Hyrum Smith were martyred, the Spirit testified to me that Joseph Smith truly was a prophet. I felt the Spirit stronger than I ever had before.
I can never deny the testimony I gained that night. I know the Lord truly helped cultivate the Spirit in that performance, and I know I had the chance to play a role in the production so that I could gain a testimony of the Prophet Joseph Smith. I will be eternally grateful for Joseph Smith’s faithfulness and for inspired leaders who asked me to participate in this testimony-promoting experience.

Gabriel loved learning about Jesus. He loved hearing stories from the scriptures. His family read the scriptures together every night.
One rainy night they snuggled together in their home. Papa said a prayer. Then Mama read stories from the Book of Mormon. Gabriel tried to listen very carefully. Mama read about Jesus talking to children.
“Mama, the children were with Jesus?” Gabriel asked.
“That’s right,” she said. “And He blessed each of them and prayed for them.”
Gabriel felt a new feeling inside. He did not know what it was. He felt warm even though it was chilly outside. He smiled big.
Gabriel wanted to share this special feeling. “I feel so happy and warm!” he said.
“That special feeling is the Holy Ghost,” Papa told him. “He gives you a warm feeling to help you know that the scriptures are true.”
Mama smiled and hugged Gabriel. “That feeling tells you that Jesus loves you.”
“Jesus blesses me,” Gabriel said. “Just like the children in the Book of Mormon! He sent the Holy Ghost to me!”
He couldn’t stop smiling. “I know the scriptures are true,” he said. “The Holy Ghost told me!”

I had the privilege to serve my mission in Anchorage, Alaska, USA. It was heartbreaking to come home early due to complications from spraining both ankles and feet. It was certainly not easy, but I had many experiences that taught me valuable life lessons. I learned that Heavenly Father has a purpose for everything that happens in our lives. I also learned how to go through trials with a better perspective. My relationship with the Savior became stronger than it had ever been because I learned how applicable the healing power of His Atonement is.
Heavenly Father truly helped me through this difficult time. Even though I still struggle at times, I know that Heavenly Father is in control and that He knows what I need in my life more than I do.
Amber Bangerter, Utah, USA

The Prophet’s promise was fulfilled in 1845, when Dan and his wife, Jane, were called to serve in Wales. Dan used his talent for speaking to teach the gospel with great conviction. He was fluent in Welsh and English, and witnesses recorded that he spoke so captivatingly that he could hold his audience’s attention in either language for hours.
While in Wales, Dan published Latter-day Saint periodicals, tracts, and books in Welsh. Under Dan Jones’s direction, missionaries in Wales established 29 branches and baptized nearly 1,000 people each year of his first mission. He was called on a second mission to Wales in 1852, and despite growing persecution of the Church, some 2,000 people were baptized in four years.

Jed looked forward to the day when he, like his brother David, would be old enough to go into the world and be a missionary. In his last letter, David had written, “People here ask us why we’ve left our homes to come here, and we tell them we’re here to share something that is most precious to us. And that’s true. I feel a great love for each and every person we meet each day.”
Although Jed looked forward to being a missionary, he had just turned 14. He lived with his family in Broken Arrow, Wyoming, just across the border from Idaho. His dad ran the only auto repair shop in town.
In the late afternoon of December 29, his dad asked Jed if he’d fill in for him at the shop. “Your mom and I would like to go to the temple. All you need to do is stay there until closing time, then lock up.”
“I guess I could do that.”
“Oh, one thing,” his dad continued, “a lady will be coming in to ask about her car. She’s from out of state, and her car broke down just outside town. Tell her I won’t be able to get parts until after New Year’s Day. If she needs a car, she can probably rent one in Idaho Falls. That’s about it. Any questions?”
“Can I have some change?”
“What for?”
“To get some candy from the machine.”
Shortly after his folks left, it began to snow. That was hardly news for Broken Arrow in December. But then the wind started to pick up.
Jed liked being at the shop. He liked wearing his dad’s work coveralls with the name of the shop on the front. He even liked the smell of the place, a mixture of old oil, grease, and, at that moment, the candy bar he was eating. Someday he wanted to be like his dad, a mechanic who could fix just about anything. He helped out during the summers and sometimes, when the work was stacked up, on Saturday mornings.
Nobody came in until just before five o’clock, when a smartly dressed woman with a cell phone to her ear entered the shop, accompanied by her daughter.
The girl appeared to be about his age. She was nearly as tall as he, had long dark brown hair, brown eyes. She frowned at him and then ignored him and started checking out the advertisements for tools on the wall.
“I’d like to pick up my car,” the woman said. “The name is Smith-Porter.” She was wearing an expensive but not very warm coat.
“You’ve got two last names?”
“It’s hyphenated,” the girl said, running a finger across the dust covered counter.
“Oh,” Jed said, confused why a person would have two last names.
“Is there anyone here who actually knows something?” the girl asked.
“Bailey, that’s really not necessary,” her mother chided.
“I’m the only one here, and I know quite a bit about cars,” Jed said, his voice cracking as he said it.
“That’s my car there,” the woman said, glancing into the shop area. She reached for her purse. “How much is it?”
“My dad said to tell you that he won’t be able to get parts until after New Year’s, but if you need a car, you can rent one in Idaho Falls.”
“How far is that from here?” the woman asked.
“It’s about 70 miles.”
“Is there some other place in town that can fix my car?”
“No, we’re the only shop in town.”
“How are we supposed to get to Idaho Falls?” the girl asked impatiently.
“Well, there’s a bus twice a day. The next one should be coming in about half an hour. It leaves from the Broken Arrow Cafe, just across the street. I’ll warn you, though. We have a saying about that place, ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t eat there.’” Jed chuckled enthusiastically for the girl’s sake because he knew she would not approve.
The woman nodded her head. “Well, that’s not too bad then. Thank you for your help. We’ll need to get some things in the car.”
The girl stayed behind while her mother went into the shop area to get their luggage. The girl scowled at the candy wrappers in front of Jed. “How many candy bars have you had?”
“Two or three.”
“Disgusting.” She scowled at him.
“Is your name really Bailey Smith-Porter?” he asked.
“Yes it is. So?”
“It sounds like a law firm.”
“Really? How old are you anyway?” she asked.
“Fourteen.”
“I’m way more mature than you.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m going on 15.”
Before Jed realized that anyone who was 14 was also going on 15, the mother returned with their luggage and they left. Jed watched them fight the wind and the snow on their way across the street. It was then he noticed the cafe, where the bus stopped each day, was closed because of the storm.
Jed looked at the clock. Just a few more minutes and then he could close up and go home. He walked through the shop, making sure everything was locked up. When he went to the front to turn off the outside light that illuminated the sign advertising the shop, he could see the woman and the girl huddled in the doorway of the cafe, waiting for the bus.
“With the way the wind is picking up, the bus probably isn’t going to come,” he thought. “I’d better go tell ‘em.”
He was standing inside in the dark about ready to leave. “There’s no place they can go tonight.”
He answered himself. “That’s not my problem. I did everything I was asked to do here.”
He thought about going out the back door, so he wouldn’t have to see them standing there in the storm.
“What are they going to do if you don’t help them?” he asked himself.
“That’s not my responsibility.”
He went to the back door to leave. As he stepped outside, a sudden gust of wind blew a blast of snow into his face. At the same time, part of his brother’s letter came to his mind. “I feel a great love for each and every person we meet each day.”
He stepped back inside. “I don’t like the girl. How many times did she put me down in the five minutes they were in the shop? I don’t need that.”
He walked to the front of the shop again. “Maybe the storm has let up and the bus will make it after all. For all I know, maybe the bus has come and gone already. Maybe it’s not that bad outside of town.”
He stood at the window and looked out. The storm had grown into a blizzard as the wind sent pulsating waves of snow down the main street of the town. Across the street, their coats now caked with snow, the two strangers huddled in the doorway, waiting for a bus that wasn’t going to come.
Suddenly Jed made a decision, stepped outside into the storm, made sure the door was locked, and walked across the street. “I guess the bus isn’t coming today.”
He expected the girl to insult him or the bus company or the town, but she was too cold to say anything.
“Is there a place in town we can stay?” the woman asked.
“There’s a motel in town.”
“Good.”
“But it’s closed down until May.”
“I see.”
“You could come home with me, if you want. At least you’d be warm.”
“Are you sure?” the woman asked.
The truth was he wasn’t totally sure what his folks would say, but one thing he was sure of, his brother David would agree it was the right thing to do.
“My mom and dad are out of town, but they should be home soon. I’m sure they’d want you to stay with us until things clear up.”
“That’s very kind of you. Let’s go, Bailey.”
He offered to lug their suitcases but they said they could do it themselves.
Because there was no traffic, they were able to walk down the middle of the street. They trudged their way through deep drifts alternating with places where the wind was sweeping the road’s surface bare. By the time they reached the house, they looked like snowmen. Once inside, they stomped and brushed the accumulated snow from their coats, slacks, and heads.
Bailey’s mother warmed up for five minutes and then got back on her cell phone.
“Who is she talking to all the time?” Jed asked.
“Very important people. Famous people. Business leaders.”
“Okay.”
“She’s a very influential person.”
Bailey rapidly went through a list of names of famous people that worked with her mother. Then, seeing no recognition in his face, she said, “You’ve never heard of any of them, have you?”
“No, sorry.”
“You’re really out of touch with what’s happening in the world, aren’t you?” she asked.
In a way Jed was amazed. Bailey was tall, had dark eyes and a penetrating glance. She stood with such good posture that he was sure it was something she’d been taught. And she stood too close, almost as if she expected an argument. Also, her voice was too polished. In short, she wasn’t like any of the girls he’d ever known in Broken Arrow.
More than anything, he feared she might make him talk about current events, so he tried to change the subject. “Are you hungry?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “I really am.”
“You want to help me cook up something?”
“Well, I don’t know how to cook very well. We eat out most of the time.”
“Can you peel potatoes?”
She started to blush. “Uh, well, you’ll have to show me.”
“You’ve never peeled potatoes before?”
“Not really.”
Jed went to the storeroom and brought back five or six large potatoes and set them on the counter next to the basin. He grabbed a peeler from the drawer and placed it in her hand. “The idea is, you try to get the brown parts off.”
She smiled. “You don’t have to tell me that.”
“I wasn’t sure.”
Jed got some ground beef from the fridge and started to make patties.
In the living room Bailey’s mother was pacing the floor complaining to someone on the phone.
“How come you and your mom came out here this time of year?” he asked.
“We wanted to be some place safe for the new year.”
“Safe?”
“You know, because of Y2K. My mother was worried there might be riots and no food in the city, so she rented a cabin for us until the middle of January. Then we drove here from Los Angeles.”
She paused. “What has your family done to prepare for the new year?”
“Well, I think my dad picked up a calendar at the bank. They give them away every year.”
“Don’t you people around here know what could happen? What are you going to do on New Year’s Day?”
“We’ll probably have nachos and salsa and watch football.”
“If that’s all you’ve done, then you’re not prepared. It’s as simple as that.”
“If we’re the ones not prepared, how come you and your mom are staying with us?”
“Believe me, this is the last place in the world I want to be.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“It’s so isolated. Have you ever been to Chicago?”
“No.”
“What about New York?” she asked.
“No.”
“Europe?”
“No.” He glanced at how she was doing at peeling potatoes. “You’re doing a good job.”
“So, basically, you’re going to live the rest of your life right here?”
“I suppose so.” He paused. “Except when I’m 19, I’ll go out into the world for two years.”
“Doing what?”
“Being a missionary for my church.”
“What church?”
“The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
“My mom and I don’t believe in organized religion.”
“Sometimes we’re not that organized. Like this one time, somebody forgot to get the key to open up the chapel for an activity …”
Just then her mother came into the kitchen. “Well, this is quite a sight. Bailey, I hope you’re learning some great Wyoming recipes.”
“We’re just fixing fried potatoes and hamburgers,” Jed said.
“Sounds wonderful. Well, I’ve called everywhere, and it looks like we’re stuck here. The storm is building in intensity. Looks like the roads may be closed here for a couple of days.
“That’ll give Bailey time to finish peeling that potato she’s been working on since we got here,” Jed teased.
Bailey glanced up from her work, and, to Jed’s surprise, came very close to smiling again.
The food preparation sped up considerably with Bailey’s mother stepping in and taking charge. Jed insisted on cooking the hamburger patties. He thought they turned out pretty good.
While they were eating, the phone rang. Jed answered it.
It was his dad. “Jed, we’re in Idaho Falls. They’ve closed the roads, so we’re going to stay at your Uncle Mel’s place. We’ll try to get out tomorrow. Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah. Oh, that woman and her daughter who left their car at the shop. They were stranded, so I invited them to stay here. I hope that’s okay. I didn’t know what else to do. They didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“No, that’s good. I’m glad you invited them.”
His dad asked him to go to the shop in the morning and make sure the flat roof didn’t have too much snow on it, and then Jed talked to his mom and told her about the unexpected guests. She gave him a flurry of instructions of what he needed to do to be a good host.
By the time he returned to the kitchen, the dishes were done, and Bailey’s mother was pacing back and forth in the living room, talking on her cell phone.
Bailey was sitting at the kitchen table, deep in thought.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’ve got a question. Why aren’t you worried about Y2K? If all the computers break down, it will be like all of us don’t exist anymore. It will be like we’ve all been erased.”
“Come with me,” he said.
He opened the front door, and they went outside into the storm. “You feel the wind in your face? That’s real. The snow is real. It’s not going to be erased by some computer. Some things can’t ever be erased.”
“Like what?” she yelled over the storm.
“Like who you are and what you stand for.”
They hurried back inside and sat down again at the kitchen table.
“What did you mean when you said, ‘What you stand for’? Do you stand for something?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“What?”
Jed wasn’t ready for this. He always imagined he would have to go to some faraway place before he’d have a chance to tell people what he believed. He never imagined they would come to him.
He told her about the Prophet Joseph Smith and gave her his copy of the Book of Mormon to read.
While Bailey was reading, he went in the bathroom and set out the guest towels, like his mother had told him to do. And then he put clean sheets on the bed in the guest room, got an extra blanket from the closet, and turned up the heat.
When he finished getting the room ready, he stood in the doorway and looked with satisfaction at what he’d done for his guests.
The first time he’d read his brother’s letter, Jed had had a hard time understanding how his brother could love all the people he met on his mission. But as he watched Bailey sitting at the kitchen table reading the Book of Mormon, and her mother, who had joined her while he’d been making up the guest room, he now understood how that could be.
Jed smiled. He was very happy, and he looked forward with great anticipation to the new year.