Gospel Story Finder

President Marion G. Romney, a former member of the First Presidency, told this story:
"A few years ago as I began to practice law, members of my family were a little uneasy. They were afraid I would lose my faith. I wanted to practice law, but I had an even greater desire to keep my testimony, and so I decided upon a little procedure which I recommend to you. For thirty minutes each morning before I began the day's work I read from the Book of Mormon--I also read from all the other standard works of the Church, but I am talking now about the Book of Mormon--and in just a few minutes a day I read the Book of Mormon through, every year, for nine years. I know that it kept me in harmony, so far as I did keep in harmony, with the Spirit of the Lord."[21]

After hearing the discussions and attending sacrament meeting, Chea knew he had found what he was looking for. “The people are so nice. I feel I belong. As I learn the scriptures and read the Book of Mormon, I can feel Heavenly Father’s love for me.” Chea loves to sing and adds, “The music makes me very happy.” Although his parents have taken the missionary lessons, attend church often, and fully support Chea, they have not joined.

After his baptism, Chea and the elders became very good friends. “Almost every day Chea would hop over the back fence and climb the stairs to our apartment,” recalls Elder Gooch. “After fixing himself a piece of unbuttered toast, he would tell us about friends and relatives he wanted us to visit. Sometimes we had a hard time keeping up!”

With a twinkle in his eye, Chea recalls the first person he told the elders about. “Sothom Chea was in my class at school. At first I was afraid of him. I thought he didn’t like me. I asked him if he would like to meet my friends, Elder Black and Elder Gooch. When Sothom said yes I was surprised but very, very happy.” Chea accompanied the elders to all of Sothom’s discussions. He says, “I enjoyed translating the lessons. I learned so much. I could feel the Holy Spirit. Besides, it was fun.”

Old as well as young have benefited from Chea’s desire to share his newfound knowledge. His neighbor, Sophon Heng, a mother of four, and her elderly mother Hong Heng were baptized as a result of Chea’s efforts. Sophon recalls, “Chea was so kind to us. He asked us if we would like to meet two men who would teach us and make us happy. When we said yes, Chea and the elders came to our home each week and taught us the gospel.”

For Chea it is not a sacrifice but a real joy to share Heavenly Father’s message. “Each time I go with the elders I seem to learn something new. I enjoy learning about how to return to Heavenly Father—what I must do and what I must avoid.”

Irene Danjou, Chea’s former Primary president, beams as she remembers, “Each Sunday he would bring a different friend to church. He’d introduce them to me, spell their names, tell me their ages, and sit with them until they felt comfortable. Then he would go to his own class. He did this every week for a whole year!”

One example of Chea’s diligence and enthusiasm as a young missionary is recorded in Elder Gooch’s journal: “I was home for lunch, sitting on my hardwood rocking chair, trying to prepare a talk for zone conference. Somehow I just couldn’t get my thoughts gathered. The telephone rang. It was Chea. He told me that he wanted Elder Black and me to visit the Vongs, a Cambodian family that had been in Lowell for a year. They were praying and fasting to find a church they could attend.”

Saveth Vong and her three children, Chetena, Chendra, and Tola, had narrowly escaped execution. Her husband, a pilot in the Cambodian Army, had been captured. Saveth and her children managed to get out of prison three days before they were scheduled to be shot.

Chea smiles as he recalls his and the elder’s first visit to the Vong home. “Everyone seemed so eager to learn. There were many questions. The Spirit was very strong.” Although the Vongs used a Book of Mormon printed in Cambodian, they needed help with gospel principles. Chea played an important role, assisting the elders as he translated discussions and shared his own experiences in the Church. Elder Gooch’s journal entry continues, “Day after day, Chea sat quietly by Saveth helping her understand the things we taught. He never seemed to tire of the message of the gospel.”

Indeed, as Chea taught the gospel his testimony grew. He recalls, “I remember reading 3 Nephi 27:7: ‘Therefore, whatsoever ye shall do, ye shall do in my name; therefore ye shall call the church in my name; and ye shall call upon the Father in my name that he will bless the church for my sake.’ [3 Ne. 27:7] I thought, how could it be that I’ve never seen this scripture before? It makes so much sense. Heavenly Father’s true church must be named after his Son!”

This scripture also confirmed for Chea what he knew in his heart was true—that if he prayed to Heavenly Father in the name of Jesus and asked for help to share the gospel message, Heavenly Father would bless his efforts.

When the Vongs made the decision to be baptized, Chea was delighted. Elder Gooch recalls that evening, “While we were driving home, Chea asked Elder Black and me to stop by a grove of trees in a nearby park so that we could thank Heavenly Father. We took turns giving thanks and expressing our joy. When we were finished, Chea climbed on my shoulders. After a few quiet moments Chea lovingly looked down, flashed his million dollar smile and said, “The Holy Ghost is with us, Gooch, isn’t it?”

“Yep, Chea, sure is.”

“I know—I felt it!”

The Vongs were baptized a week later.

Chea will be entering the sixth grade this fall. He loves to fish and play basketball and enjoys video games. Like other Cambodian youth in America, he plays an important role in helping his parents learn their new language and culture. The adults spend long hours working to make ends meet and don’t have much free time to learn English. The youth, on the other hand, pick up the language quickly and bring it home. Chea’s been particularly fortunate. Along with his regular public school classes, he’s in a special program at the Sylvan Learning Center in Chelmsford, Massachusetts. Director Joan O’Brien sees Chea as a unique child. “I think he’s a youngster who will be a real leader in the Cambodian culture. He’s like a pitcher that cannot be filled.”

One Sunday evening, all of the youth and their parents were invited to a meeting to launch Moroni’s Promise. It was the young, valiant captains of ten who gave the vision, reviewed the promise (see Moro. 10:3–5), spoke of agency and obedience, explained the program, and called for volunteers to join one of their teams.
One young captain of ten, Michelle Gardner, referred to the promise made by President Gordon B. Hinkley to all the members of the Church who read the Book of Mormon. He promised those who read daily that “there will come into your lives and into your homes an added measure of the Spirit of the Lord, a strengthened resolution to walk in obedience to his commandments, and a stronger testimony of the living reality of the Son of God” (Ensign, Nov. 1979, p. 9).
Appealing to the youth for whom she now felt a keen sense of responsibility, she added her own personal testimony. “I know when I read each day, especially when I study and don’t just skim over what I’m reading, I do feel a greater desire to live the commandments and to have the Spirit of the Lord in my life.”
Individualized packets were provided which included the quote from Moroni printed on parchment ready for framing, a system for recording progress, recommended target dates, helpful study methods, a promise of celebration stations, and a letter to be sent to a trusted friend or relative requesting support and continuous encouragement during the coming months as they read the Book of Mormon. An application form was also provided requesting the parent’s signature as well as the signature of a member of the bishopric.
Each participant was invited to add his or her own signature as an indication of willingness to be diligent in endeavoring to reach the goal of having read the entire Book of Mormon within the set time limit. This could be accomplished by reading approximately 16 pages per week. A captain of ten also signed the application indicating a willingness to be in touch each week to determine progress and provide encouragement to each member of his or her team.
Individual progress was not a public matter. However, increased interest was awakened when the aggregate “scores” of the teams were recorded on an attractive chart that was periodically displayed in the chapel foyer with pictures of various activities.
As eager participants finished the last verse of Alma 63, “And thus ended the account of Alma,” they would rush, regardless of the hour, to Sister Bonnie Guthrie, who helped with the records, assisted in making calls for captains as needed, and dispensed T-shirts to each one finishing the book of Alma. The T-shirts with “STOMP” (for “Students Trying Out Moroni’s Promise”) printed in bold letters across the front provided the incentive that urged many through the pages of Alma.
A celebration station was an event scheduled at regular intervals along the way to give strong incentives and provide continuous encouragement to the captains, who in turn, inspired their team members as they made their weekly contacts. The captains were to then give an accounting to the specialist in a brief weekly meeting following sacrament meeting. Many, many extra calls at various times were required to accomplish this necessary follow-up.
As the group completed Alma, a celebration station was scheduled. The snow had been falling all night, and it was unseasonably cold, but nothing would daunt the plans for the scheduled tree planting celebration. A flowering cherry tree had been selected. The hole was dug, and all ward members were invited to gather at the church.
Robert Davis stood before the group holding a scroll containing all the names of those who at that time had finished reading Alma. He rolled the scroll, put it in a plastic-coated container, sealed it, and then respectfully placed it in the hole at the base of the tree and explained, “You’re probably wondering why we are planting a tree. If you will recall in Alma the planting of a seed which became a tree has meaning because of the analogy to a growing testimony.” He then read Alma 32:27–41, “But if ye will nourish the word, yea, nourish the tree as it beginneth to grow, by your faith with great diligence, and with patience, looking forward to the fruit thereof, it shall take root; and behold it shall be a tree springing up unto everlasting life.”
On Mother’s Day following sacrament meeting, the entire ward was invited to gather around the flagpole for yet another celebration station. Richard Newman and Mike Bettilyon, both captains of ten, unfolded the beautifully designed flag with the large dark blue letters “Moroni’s Promise” centered in a white open field.
There were other names on that flag also. Those who had finished the Book of Helaman had added their signatures to the flag as an official Mother’s Day record. Bishop Bradford reminded everyone of the stripling warriors who did not fear death for they had been taught by their mothers that if they did not doubt, God would deliver them (see Alma 56:47). The captains attached the flag and pulled the ropes raising it to the very top of the long silver pole. Hearts were opened and feelings were tender as expressed by a younger member of the group, who whispering to a friend close by, said, “My name is on that flag,” and his friend responded reverently, “So is mine.”
By now the flowering cherry tree planted earlier was bursting into bloom nearby as a reminder of growing testimonies.
What difference has all this effort made? There have been 120 readers, 38 adults and 82 youth, participating in Moroni’s Promise.
Thirteen-year-old Wid Covey, standing before an audience, volunteered his testimony, “I’m thankful for this Moroni’s Promise program because it helps me understand the scriptures. When I sit down with my dad to read the Book of Mormon he helps me understand about it also. I’m thankful for Michelle Gardner. She calls me every week, and it helps me a lot and she encourages me.”
Sister Margaret Kirkham reported, “Our whole family looks forward to Richard Newman, our captain of ten, coming to encourage us. This project has been a great influence to our entire family.”
Bishop Bradford reflected on the past eight months. “It has made a great difference. There are few activities that could have unified our youth as well as this. I can’t say that all our youth now have a strong personal testimony of the Book of Mormon, but it’s a super beginning. With the help of our inspired specialist, a great number of young people will be better missionaries in every aspect of their lives, and all of them are better prepared to withstand the evils of the world.”

Consider also the example of Artemus Millet. In 1832 the Church faced a real dilemma. A stonemason was needed to direct the stonework on the Kirtland Temple. No one was qualified. Lorenzo Young suggested that they recruit Artemus Millet, who was a capable stonemason living in Canada. But there was one problem—Artemus was not a member of the Church. Joseph Smith paused and considered the suggestion. He then turned to Brigham Young and said, “I give you a mission to go to Canada and baptize Brother Artemus Millet and bring him here.” If that wasn’t enough, he then said, “And tell him to bring a thousand dollars with him” (Millet Family History, “A Brief History of Artemus Millet,” manuscript, LDS Archives, pp. 70–71). You prospective and returned missionaries, how would you like to receive such a mission assignment? With the help of the Lord, Brigham Young went to Canada and taught and baptized Brother Millet. When he was asked to leave Canada to supervise the work on the Kirtland Temple, Brother Millet responded that he had a business in Canada and if he left, not only would the business fail, but people who owed him money would never pay their debts to him. Being touched by the Spirit, Brother Millet left his business and moved to Kirtland, Ohio.

The stately Kirtland Temple is in a large part a monument to Artemus Millet. He lost his business. He lost his money. He lost his prestigious standing in Canada. Later his wife died. But look what he gained. He gained the gospel. He fulfilled an important earthly mission. He gained an eternal family, and today there are thousands of his descendants in the Church who call him blessed. I know some of his descendants who are leaders in this Church and who acknowledge that much of what they count dear in their lives is because of their faithful forefathers in following the prophet of God.

A few years ago, neighbors who frequently hired our daughter, Elizabeth, as a babysitter, complimented us on what a wonderful daughter we had. They asked what we had done to raise a young woman who felt so comfortable interacting with adults. I immediately began a mental scan of our parenting strategies to see which one might explain this particular positive outcome. But my review was cut short by a gentle rebuke from the Spirit: "Do you think visiting and serving her grandmother and other elderly people every week for several years might have had something to do with this?" At the time, my mother was engaged in a decade-long bout with a particularly nasty, strain of Alzheimer's that impaired not only her memory but her perception of reality. I confess that if it had been up to me, I would have chosen to lose my mother to a heart attack instead. But in that moment, I couldn't help but think about how my daughter had been shaped and blessed over that decade of affliction by serving and loving my mother and other elderly people. Indeed, even after my mother passed away, my children have chosen to continue our family tradition of singing together every Sunday afternoon with our friends the Thomases to residents of the assisted living facility where my mother spent her final two years. As I watch Elizabeth interact in a remarkably mature and caring way with these precious children of God, I recognize that my mother's prolonged suffering played a preparatory role in my family's life in ways I did not fully appreciate at the time. This experience has helped me better obey the command to "thank the Lord thy God in all things[, ]"[22] including preparatory afflictions.

Long years ago a severe drought struck the Salt Lake Valley. The commodities at the storehouse on Welfare Square had not been their usual quality, nor were they found in abundance. Many products were missing, especially fresh fruit. As a young bishop, worrying about the needs of the many widows in my ward, I said a prayer one evening that is especially sacred to me. I pleaded that these widows, who were among the finest women I knew in mortality and whose needs were simple and conservative, had no resources on which they might rely.
The next morning I received a call from a ward member, a proprietor of a produce business situated in our ward. “Bishop,” he said, “I would like to send a semitrailer filled with oranges, grapefruit, and bananas to the bishops’ storehouse to be given to those in need. Could you make arrangements?” Could I make arrangements! The storehouse was alerted, and then each bishop was telephoned and the entire shipment distributed.
The wife of that generous businessman became a widow herself. I know the decision her husband and she made brought her sweet memories and comforting peace to her soul.

I grew up, joined the Royal Navy, and after nine years began working for a fire-protection company. One evening after work, I heard a knock at the door. When I opened it, two sister missionaries introduced themselves. I was tired, dirty, and hungry, so I suggested that they come back later in the evening or some other time.
To my surprise they returned an hour later. I invited them in. As soon as they started talking, I knew there was something special about their message. My home felt different, and I knew it emanated from these two sisters.
They gave me the first discussion that night and the second discussion the following night. Two elders then came every night until I had received all the discussions. I began reading the Book of Mormon and praying. Getting down on my knees to pray for the first time in 20 years was the most spiritual experience I had had in my life.
I made the commitment to be baptized a week after finishing the discussions. After my baptism, Elder Ross and Elder Fullerger laid their hands on my head to give me the gift of the Holy Ghost. As soon as their hands touched my head, my experience with the Spirit 20 years before came back to me. Something precious that had been preserved within me—but had been suppressed by all the mistakes I had made in life—was spiritually reunited with my memory. I was overwhelmed to think that I meant so much to the Savior that He had not forgotten me.
I’m grateful to the missionaries who taught me the gospel and to the members of my first ward who nourished me. Most of all, I’m grateful to my Savior, whose existence I had once doubted but whom I now gratefully serve.

One man who had committed himself to do everything he could to share the gospel with others walked out of his office one day and saw a man running down the hall. He learned this man had stapled his finger. He reached into his big pocket, pulled out Merthiolate and a Band-Aid, and dressed the wound. The shocked individual asked in amazement why he did this. He responded: “I am a Mormon, and Mormons do these things.” This man was prepared to help another whenever possible.

“I’m bored,” Danny said as Mom put a batch of cinnamon rolls into the oven. “What are we going to do now?”
Before Mom could answer, Elizabeth asked, “Mom, when will Christmas be here? I want to open my presents.”
Mom sighed as she shut the oven door and set the timer. “There’s a lot we can do, Danny. And Elizabeth, there’s much, much more to Christmas than opening presents.” Mom sat down. “Let’s see—how about a game?”
The children nodded their heads enthusiastically.
“Elizabeth, please bring the Baby Jesus from the Nativity set in the family room.”
Elizabeth ran into the family room and quickly returned with the Baby Jesus.
“Now, Danny, close your eyes while Elizabeth hides the Baby Jesus. She’ll tell you when you can open them. Then you will look for Him. If you’re far away, she’ll say you’re cold or colder. But if you’re getting closer to the hiding place, she’ll say you’re warm or warmer. Do you understand?”
When Danny nodded, Mom said, “All right, close your eyes.”
Danny covered his eyes with his hands. Elizabeth quickly put the Baby Jesus on the piano. She looked at Mom and silently mouthed, “Is that OK?”
Mom smiled and nodded.
Elizabeth moved next to Mom. “You can open your eyes now, Danny.”
Danny uncovered his eyes and took several steps toward the couch.
“You’re cold,” Elizabeth said.
“Colder,” Danny heard as he looked under the table. “Colder. Oh, Danny, you’re as cold as you can get over there by the fireplace!” declared Elizabeth.
Danny slumped his shoulders in frustration and said, “I don’t like this game.”
“Don’t give up,” urged Mom. “Now that you know where the Baby Jesus isn’t, you should have a better idea about where He is.”
Danny thought for a minute, then turned around.
Elizabeth cried out, “Hooray! You’re getting warmer.”
Then, instead of looking down, Danny looked up at the piano. He smiled and stood tall as he walked toward the piano.
“Warm, warmer, warmest!” cheered Elizabeth as Danny reached out his hand and picked up the Baby Jesus.
“Danny wins the game!” Mom announced.
Danny had a great big grin on his face, and so did Elizabeth. Mom gathered them both in her arms and explained, “You see, the real purpose of Christmas is like our little game. It’s to try to get closer to Jesus. When we do, we feel warm. If you get that good, warm feeling, the Spirit is telling you you’re doing the kinds of things that make Jesus happy.”
Bzzzz!
“The cinnamon rolls are done,” shouted Elizabeth and Danny.
“Why don’t you two put on your coats while I frost the rolls? Then you can deliver some to Mrs. Simms while they’re still hot,” Mom said.
After delivering the rolls, Elizabeth and Danny rushed into the house. “Mom! Mom! Mrs. Simms was so happy to get the rolls she had tears in her eyes!” reported Danny.
“I think Jesus liked us giving her the rolls, because I feel warm inside,” said Elizabeth. “And if you’re warm, you’re getting closer.”

Here is another illustration of the principle of obedience. I had an instructor in the navy, a fine man. He had been a test pilot in the early days of the war. One of his responsibilities was to test a fighter plane that was important to the factory. If they didn’t sell it, they would go bankrupt. It was important to the navy because they needed a quality aircraft to operate off aircraft carriers. In those days there were no electronic on-board instruments. He had to take off and fly the aircraft, the first prototype, and then come back and tell the owners of the factory and the admirals whether it passed the test. They watched him take off and watched him climb. He disappeared and after a long period of time he returned, landed, and climbed out of the aircraft.

All of the engineers, designers, owners, admirals, and navy brass were there, and he said, “As you saw, the aircraft jumped off the ground in less than the required distance.” They all nodded. They have been observing that. He said, “Time to thirty thousand feet was so many minutes and so many seconds.” Everybody ooed and awed at that. He said, “It climbs like a homesick angel.” Tremendous! Everybody was pleased by how fast it arrived at altitude. He said, “Speed at full throttle, straight and level, exceeded the calculations of the engineers by 14 percent.” Everyone was impressed and the engineers were calculating how much that must have been. He said, “Power dive, the wings didn’t come off, nothing bent.” Everybody was wringing their hands out of gratitude that it had passed the test when he said, “But it didn’t pass the test. When I put it through the maneuvers in which a fighter plane has to be able to perform, when I tried to do the snap rolls, the Immelmanns, the loops, the evasive maneuvers, this aircraft would not respond to the controls. It is like a mule that gets the bit in its mouth and wants to go straight. Nothing I could do would make it turn fast enough. You have to go back and make larger, more sensitive control surfaces so that the aircraft will be obedient to the pilot.”

I’ve seen missionaries in the mission field who are super intelligent, charismatic, have great talent and tremendous ability, but failed because they weren’t responsive to the controls. They weren’t quite obedient. They didn’t understand that the rules are first to protect them from Satan and second to bless them with success. There are many interpretations, higher interpretations, of the law of obedience.

I loved Primary and had many wonderful teachers who taught me the gospel. One, though, was very special to me. Sister Mary Stevenson taught Primary in the LeGrand Ward in Salt Lake City. One summer she taught our class to play the harmonica. She told us that by summer’s end we would play for George Albert Smith, who was then the President of the Church.
We worked hard, and the important evening finally came. Before we left for President Smith’s house, Sister Stevenson told us that we were going to shake the hand of a prophet, that it would be a special experience, and that we would always remember it. What a thrill to be so close to a prophet!
To such a little boy as I was, President Smith looked very tall. He greeted us with a friendly smile. We played two or three of his favorite songs on our harmonicas. When we finished, he shook hands with each of us and thanked us for our visit. Sister Stevenson was right—I never forgot that experience. I shall always be grateful to my Primary teacher for such an opportunity.

My companion and I later learned that Brother and Sister Diaz were both working for minimum wage at a local textile mill and sending half of their earnings to Guayaquil to help support their families. When we suggested that we eat less often at their house so we wouldn’t be a financial burden on them, Niza exclaimed, “Oh, no, Elder Norman!” She explained that since they got baptized and started paying tithing, somehow their freezer seemed to stay full of chicken and fish, even though she frequently fed the missionaries.

In Doctrine and Covenants 123:12 we learn, “There are many yet on the earth … who are only kept from the truth because they know not where to find it.” Through Hugo and Niza’s missionary efforts as members and later as stake missionaries, many came to know the truth of the gospel.
When we, like Hugo and Niza, seek diligently for the truth and then eagerly share the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ, we will see a multitude of blessings in our lives and in the many lives we touch.

My sister reads her scriptures every night for seminary. I try to read my scriptures each night now, too. One night my sister and I decided to watch a movie and sleep downstairs. After the movie I felt afraid and went upstairs to sleep in my bed. I couldn’t go to sleep, so I listened to Primary songs. Then I read my scriptures. I was able to fall asleep without feeling scared. The Primary songs and scriptures made me feel peaceful and happy.Rachel Cottle, age 9, West Bountiful, Utah

Teachers and leaders should also consult with their priesthood leaders as they develop ways to serve the child. When our son was first diagnosed with autism, we didn’t know how well he was going to transition from nursery to a Primary class with his peers. A sister in our ward who was a schoolteacher approached our bishop and Primary president and offered to be our son’s aide. The Primary president, a member of the bishopric, my husband, and I met with her, and she talked to us about how to help our son. We set goals and created a plan to help him understand the routine of Primary. We often needed to tweak the plan over the following three years, but as he learned to understand what was happening around him, he became more interested in interacting with his peers and participating in the lessons. This sister’s understanding and commitment built the foundation on which our son continues to stand. Her love and friendship taught him that he’s a beloved child of God. Because of that, he continues to see church as somewhere he can go to be himself and be loved.

A friend of mine a few years ago learned that his sixteen-year-old boy was smoking. One evening when this family had finished their meal and were sitting around the table, the father took out a package of cigarettes and started passing it around. He took one and said, “Let’s have a little smoke tonight together as we visit.”

And the first person he handed it to said, “Why, Dad, you know we don’t smoke. I couldn’t smoke.” He passed it around getting about the same response from the others. But this sixteen-year-old boy said, “Dad, I wouldn’t care for a cigarette.”

The father said, “Why, go ahead and take one. If you’re going to smoke, let us smoke together. Let us enjoy life together. Don’t be disassociating yourself from the family. Come on. Let us have a smoke together.” Of course they didn’t smoke.

It felt just like any other Sunday morning in Primary. Brother Barrow and Brother Jensen sat at the front of the class.
“Good morning,” said Brother Barrow. “Did everyone have a good week?”
Miles popped up in his seat next to me. “Yeah! I had fun this weekend!” he said. He told about a park he went to.
After everyone had taken a turn to talk, Brother Jensen began marking the roll. “Hmm,” he said, looking up at us. “Samantha isn’t here again. Does anyone know who she is? I’ve never met her before.”
I raised my hand. “I know who she is,” I said. “I’ve seen her at school.”
“Thank you, Grace. Could you tell us more about her?”
I thought about Samantha. It seemed like she always played by herself. “She’s pretty shy,” I said. “I don’t think she has very many friends.”
“I think we should do something special to invite her to Primary,” said Brother Jensen. “How would everyone feel about coming to my house this week to make brownies and a card for her?”
“That’s a great idea!” said Miles.
“I want to come too!” said Haylee.
“Sounds good,” said Brother Jensen. “I’ll call your parents so we can find a time to get together.”
Finally the day came. We met at Brother Jensen’s house, and we were ready to bake!
“Who wants to mix the cocoa and baking soda?” Brother Barrow asked.
“I do!” said Mason.
Soon we all had jobs to do. Before we knew it, the brownies were in the oven.
“OK, everyone, while we wait for the brownies to bake, let’s make the card,” said Brother Jensen.
Our card was actually a big poster. We got out crayons and markers and wrote things like “We miss you!” and “Come to Primary!” By the time we were done writing and drawing pictures, the brownies were done.
We put the brownies on a plate and went together to Samantha’s house. Brother Jensen knocked on the door, and Samantha’s mom answered.
“SURPRISE!” we shouted.
“We just want to invite your daughter to Primary,” said Brother Barrow.
“That is so thoughtful,” she said. “Thank you all so much.” She called to Samantha, and she came to the door. “Look, Samantha. See what they brought you!”
“Thank you,” she said shyly.
I waved to her from the back of the group. “Hi, Samantha! I’m Grace, from school.”
“We hope you can come to our Primary class this week!” said John.
At recess the next day, I was sitting with my friends and saw Samantha. “Hi!” I said. “Do you want to play with us?”
“No,” she said, looking down. “But thanks anyway.”
I smiled at her. Samantha smiled back a little bit. “OK,” I said. “Some other time.”
Later Samantha and her mom started coming to church! Just shows the power of friendship … and brownies!
Samantha didn’t come to Primary that Sunday. I was kind of sad, but I was still glad we invited her. It felt like what Heavenly Father wanted us to do. Samantha wasn’t ready to come to Church, and that was OK. We could ask again another time. And we could definitely keep trying to get to know her. Who knows? Maybe we could all be friends!

But the second semester this year, a young man, a returned missionary, who serves as an assistant to the president and I won't say which mission, and [with] tears in his eyes, he said, "Brother Kikuchi, I have a problem. Since I returned from my mission my spirituality is really not what it ought to be. Would you help me so that I can get back to the spirit of the mission?"
I said, "Before I answer that question, could I ask something? What time [do] you usually sleep? What time [do] you get up? And what [are the] activities in the morning as you get up?" And so on and so on. And so I ask, "What time [are] you planning to go to bed?"
"That's about one o'clock and sometimes two."
"Are you studying?"
"Not necessarily."
"Then what time you get up?"
"Well, I have to take a bus to the school and I need to get up at least thirty minutes [before]."
"Can you freshen up within that few minutes and then catch the bus? Do you have a breakfast?"
"Well, most of the time I don't."
"Well, is there anything of the special things you do to communicate with Heavenly Father?"
"Well, I read the scriptures occasionally but not steady."
"Do you have a chance to visit with Heavenly Father often and in a steady way?"
He said, no.
"Well, you are a little far from Heavenly Father now. May I suggest the prescriptions for you if you are willing to listen to me?" He said, "I would do anything I need to [get the] spirit back again."
Then, I said, "When I became a General Authority and I was called, and one of the presidency of the Seventy trained me. [He told me] when he was called, he asked President David O. McKay, 'President McKay what should I do to deepen my spirituality?'" And [President McKay answered] pointing at five fingers and I hope you remember:
"I arise early. I wash my body and I put my new linen and those of us [who have] been through the temple the holy garment. Then, I subdue my spirit-number four-before God; I am kneeling before Heavenly Father. Number five," he said, "I wait for the inspiration of the Holy Father in Heaven. When I do that I come home, come back, and I am immersed into the scriptures daily."
Well, this man that trained me-he really, really taught [me well]-and he was convinced [by President McKay] that he really should do [these things]. And [in turn] he really convinced me and I believe that the best methods-[this] simple prescription-[are the best] methods I have heard. So my brothers and sisters-I did [them].
Then a few days later and almost a week later [the young man's] countenance was different and his demeanor [was] changed and this time it's different tears. He expressed profound, profound love for Heavenly Father and closeness to his Savior.

While I was a mission president in Texas, I was informed that a particular missionary had lost his testimony and wanted to go home. Some checking disclosed that doubts of the divinity of his call had been planted in the young man’s mind by an investigator. In an interview with the so-called investigator, I experienced special powers of discernment that enabled me to know that the man was a minister of another faith, posing as a college student and pretending to be an honest investigator of Mormonism. Confronted with the knowledge that had been revealed to me, he became confused and admitted his fraud. With the deceiver out of the way and the truth known, the missionary stayed and completed an honorable mission.

In the fall when I returned to BYU I decided I wanted my dad to be there when I was baptized, so my baptismal date was arranged at a time when he would be in town to see one of our games. I’ll never forget my baptism. It was the happiest day of my life. Bob baptized me, and Coach LaVell Edwards confirmed me. And then, with tears running down his cheeks, my dad put his arm around me and said, “I’m really proud of you, son. I love you.”

One young woman from Utah, USA, learned this lesson when she was struggling to create a better relationship with her dad. They were having a hard time getting along, and she was praying for help and strength to know how to heal their relationship. One day, she felt like she should tell her dad she loved him. But that was something her family didn’t say very much. Their love was understood in how they acted around each other, but actually saying the words I love you was not a normal occurrence in their house. Still, she felt like she needed to do it.
She mustered up her courage, looked at her dad, and said, “Dad, I love you.” It caught everyone by surprise. Her dad looked up at her and replied with a slight catch in his voice, “I love you too.”
It was a simple step, but from that day forward, her whole family started saying those words to each other, and they’ve been saying it ever since. Of course, it doesn’t always happen exactly like that; another young woman tried it several years ago, and it took her family a couple of years to start saying “I love you” back to her (and then to each other). But she kept saying it, and she could tell it made a difference. And those changes come not just through words but also through actions!