Gospel Story Finder

In a lesson taught a few weeks ago in seminary, something really touched me and had a huge effect on me and my life. My teacher read aloud the Entertainment and Media section from For The Strength of Youth. There was one passage she kept repeating over and over again. It said, “Do not attend, view, or participate in entertainment that is vulgar, immoral, violent, or pornographic in any way. Do not participate in entertainment that in any way presents immorality or violent behavior as acceptable” ([2001], 17). As she said this over and over again, it started to sink into me.
Later that day at school, I was in my English lesson when my teacher said, “Today we are going to watch a film as a treat.” I really did not want to watch it because it was a scary and vulgar film. I knew that I would feel uncomfortable. I pulled my For the Strength of Youth pamphlet out of my bag and explained to my teacher that I have standards and that this film was inappropriate for me to watch. I was scared and nervous about what my teacher’s reply would be and how she would react to me for sticking up for my standards and what I believed in. She paused for a moment and then said, “Kelsey, I fully understand that you have standards, and I admire you for sticking up for your beliefs.” My teacher then told me that I could go to another room and get a head start on our next topic.
I appreciated my teacher for understanding, and I will always remember this experience. I now know that I can stick up for what I believe in and that the For the Strength of Youth pamphlet is a strong and powerful thing in my life and always will be.

I found the Church twelve years ago and was touched by the message that the missionaries gave about the Book of Mormon.
For more than a year after joining the Church, I was seriously ill and was hospitalized. I truly came to appreciate the Seito No Michi (Japanese) magazine and the Book of Mormon. Their stories comforted me and helped me to feel the Spirit throughout the trial of my illness. I am well now, and I am grateful for my good health. Thank you for strengthening my testimony.
Reiko NakayamaKichijoji Ward, Tokyo Stake, Tokyo, Japan

One of my mom’s favorite memories is of when she brought cupcakes to share with my class on my birthday. Josh was with his special education teacher in another classroom down the hall and around the corner. Miss Ready asked me to go get him. I was so excited that I told Josh, “Let’s run!” With Josh holding my arm, we ran for all we were worth. When we got to the classroom, we were out of breath, and Josh said, “That was so much fun! Can we do it again?” I realized then that Josh never gets to run.
Josh’s teacher came huffing and puffing into the room, her eyes big and round from fright. She calmed down when she saw that Josh was OK and that I had been careful and hadn’t bumped him into anything as we ran.
During a field trip toward the end of our first-grade year, Miss Ready separated Josh and me and put me into another group. She told my mom that she hadn’t realized until then how isolated I had been, taking care of Josh all year and that she felt bad about it. But both Mom and I feel that it was a very rewarding year.
I have gone on to second grade now. Josh stayed back in first grade. I miss him a lot, but every couple of days or so we talk on the phone. I’m going to invite him back to church with me and pray that his grandma will let him come. I know that Heavenly Father loves Josh, and I pray that he will find someone else in his class to care for him with love and kindness. In the meantime, I’ll find someone in my second-grade class who needs a friend, because I’m trying to be like Jesus.

Recounting this history brings to my mind the experience of John E. Page as the Prophet Joseph Smith called him to serve a mission in Canada. “But I can’t go on a mission to Canada, Brother Joseph,” protested John E. Page. “I don’t even have a coat to wear.”

“Here,” said Joseph Smith, removing his own coat, “take this, and the Lord will bless you.”

John E. Page left Kirtland, Ohio, May 31, 1836, on his first mission as an elder of the Church. He labored in Canada for two years. During that time, he traveled over five thousand miles, mostly on foot, and baptized some six hundred people.

Illustration by Christiane Beauregard
Two years after my wife, Madeleinne, and I were baptized and confirmed, I became less active and quit going to church. Every Sunday morning, she would encourage me to get up and go with her, but I would say no.
“I’m tired. Let me sleep,” I would say. And later I would go play soccer.
Madeleinne would get up by herself and head to the chapel with our son, Lucas. In the rain or the cold, she always went.
Looking back, I realize that Satan was attacking me. He convinced me that I was fine without the Church. He told me, “You’re good, you’re calm, you’re comfortable.” But in reality, I had lost blessings, progress, and happiness. Thankfully, my wife and my Heavenly Father helped me see things clearly.
One Friday night about a year after I quit attending church, I had a dream. I dreamed that I was in a beautiful countryside, walking hand in hand with my wife and my son. We were very happy.
But then it began to grow dark. It became so dark that I couldn’t see anything. Suddenly, I noticed that I was no longer holding hands with my wife and son. I called their names, hoping they would return. I wanted them back, and I wanted the darkness to disappear.
At that moment, I experienced what it means to be truly miserable. I had lost Madeleinne and Lucas. They had moved ahead without me, leaving me alone, surrounded by darkness.
When I awoke the next morning, I realized that my Father in Heaven had given me a sign. If I didn’t return to church and take my wife and son to the temple to be sealed, I would lose them. I would not have them in the next life. I would be in a lost, miserable state.
“Tomorrow,” I told Madeleinne, “I’ll go to church.”
Every Sunday morning since then, I have gone to church with my family. I have not missed a single meeting since that dream five years ago. We were eventually sealed in the temple in September 2016.
I’m thankful for all my,blessings. I’m especially grateful for my family and for my wife’s courage, strength, and example. I’m grateful that she and my Heavenly Father never gave up on me. I am the man I am today thanks to them.

After I was assigned to lead a stake self-reliance committee, I realized that I was underemployed myself. With this realization, I desired more from my professional life.
I felt a renewed desire to find a better job and asked for help to write a professional résumé. I sent my new résumé to several businesses and was soon called for interviews.
At one, the interviewer pointed out a line on my résumé that mentioned my work as a counselor in the stake presidency and asked, “Could you tell me in five seconds what this church service means?”
I said that I was in the leadership of an organization responsible for the guidance and welfare of more than 2,500 people. The interviewer became interested and said, “You have one minute to decide how to give me a five-second response to this question: how do you guide those 2,500 people?”
I knew that this would be the defining moment in the interview. I prayed and asked my Heavenly Father for help and quickly remembered the lessons I had learned from the self-reliance group. I felt a surge of confidence.
After one minute, the interviewer asked, “How do you guide those 2,500 people?”
“We help them establish goals,” I answered.
The interviewer stood, shook my hand, and said, “You’re hired.”
It is amazing how God took my hand and answered my prayer. I am grateful to my Savior for inspiring our leaders to create the self-reliance initiative. I have been personally blessed by it, and I have seen the simple, inspired processes of the self-reliance initiative bless many others in our stake. I am so convinced of the ability of self-reliance principles to lift lives that when I became a leader over 15 employees in my new job, I began teaching them the principles of self-reliance.
I have grown and I am more capable than I thought I could be. I now earn a salary that sustains me and my family. This initiative helps us improve each day by helping us find greater self-reliance.

When I was in nursing school we completed our study of death and dying by spending time with terminally ill patients in hospital. The assignment consisted of an entire eight-hour shift with that patient filling their psychological as well as physical needs. I can’t express how reluctant I was to face such a patient. I really felt I wouldn’t be able to do it. I even thought of telephoning the school to say I was sick, but my class grade depended upon completion of this assignment.
I felt very inadequate that day as I stepped onto the elevator of the hospital. A constant prayer had been in my heart and mind all through the night and was answered in part as the elevator ascended.
“Don’t be afraid,” the voice whispered.
I doubted back, “But what will I say? How do I talk of death to someone who isn’t a Latter-day Saint?” My mind continued, “I’m the only Latter-day Saint in my whole class … in the whole school. Some of the hospitals I work in don’t have a Latter-day Saint in them on the staff or as a patient.”
Once on the fourth floor, I looked at my patient’s medical chart. This was not our usual routine as we were to assess our patient personally before we ever went to their chart; it was part of the learning exercise. However, something told me to look at her chart before I entered the room. Everything checked out. “Eve Crisp. Terminal cancer—final phase.” But there in the corner under religious affiliation were the letters “LDS.”
Quickly I slipped into her darkened room. Her eyes dimmed by months of suffering brightened a bit as I took her hand in mine and introduced myself as Sister Cain.
We visited easily as I met her physical needs. I learned that my patient still had several children at home. She was only forty-seven years old. She spoke of the Church and a time that she had traveled to attend a general conference. It was one of her fondest memories. I mentioned the upcoming April conference broadcast that would be broadcast the following Sunday morning. She smiled.
Often during the day she would respond to the cries of a little boy down the hall who had been badly burned by saying, “Poor thing, he must be suffering so.” Her sympathy and compassion seemed overwhelming for one suffering so much herself. I marveled at her. The time came all too soon for me to leave. Before I left, I straightened her pillow and reached for her signal light on the bed sheet. As I placed it in her hand she held on to mine and answered the question I was unable to ask.
“The Lord is perfect. His plan for me is perfect and I know he loves me.”
I embraced her and moved silently out into the corridor. I took a deep breath before returning to the main desk to write a note on her chart. The note read: “Please see to it that Mrs. Crisp’s television is tuned to the LDS general conference on Sunday morning at six o’clock.” I then went to a report meeting and bore my testimony to a class of nonmembers that I could only hope would appreciate my remarks.
The following Monday, my supervising instructor called me from my class work into her office. Sister Crisp I was told had died that Sunday morning shortly after the television show she had been watching had ended. I shed tears for her that I would shed for no one else. She had taught me so much—“The Lord is perfect; his plan is perfect and I know he loves me.”

For some members, temple covenants offer strength in the face of trials that few could otherwise endure. Soft-spoken António Edison Berrocal manages government highway projects. A member of the Ahú Ward, Curitiba Brazil Bacacherí Stake, he joined the Church in 1988. It took a few years before his wife was prepared to join with their five children. Then, he recalls, “the gospel ran in our blood, in our veins. We were doing everything the gospel asks us to do.” The family was on their way to the temple, in fact, when they were in a car accident. Only Brother Berrocal survived; he awoke in the hospital to learn that his wife and children had already been buried.
He has since been sealed to his family in the temple. His neatly trimmed beard covers physical scars from the accident. Eternal truth has prevented scarring of his spirit. “I don’t know what would have happened to me if that had occurred without the gospel of Jesus Christ. The most important thing now is for me to keep myself clean and worthy so I can have my family forever. My heart is in the hope of the gospel.”

Five years ago I was asked to be the managing director of the Welfare Services Department of the Church. Within a few days I received a phone call from President Marion G. Romney. He said, “Brother Pace, do you know anything about welfare?”
Under the circumstances, this was a sobering question, and I responded, “President, I’m sure I have much to learn.”
He asked me to set aside 3:00 p.m. each Friday for a meeting with him in which we could discuss welfare principles.
When I arrived at his office on the first Friday, President Romney’s secretary went into his office and announced, “Glenn Pace is here, President.”
He replied, “Oh yes, I’d like to see him, if he doesn’t stay too long.”
On my second visit, with “if he doesn’t stay too long” still ringing in my ears, I covered two items and then started shuffling my feet and papers, subtly signaling I was ready to leave. President Romney leaned across his desk with that twinkle in his eye and with a chuckle in his voice said, “Brother Pace, am I getting the impression you think you have something better to do?”
How I cherish those precious sessions spent with a man who has dedicated fifty years of service to the kingdom, especially in the area of welfare. He helped me to know President Harold B. Lee, President J. Reuben Clark, and other great leaders who emphasized the principles of welfare. I was counseled to measure all recommendations by the stated purpose of the welfare program as given by President Heber J. Grant in 1936.

“Can Christopher come out and play?”
Christopher heard his friend’s cheerful voice at the front door. He sprinted to the living room. Before his mother could say a word, Christopher had already reached the front door to greet his friend Ben.
Ben and Christopher weren’t only good friends—they were best friends. Nearly every day the boys enjoyed playing basketball, digging holes in the backyard, catching fireflies, or doing some other fun activity. Christopher was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and Ben wasn’t. But the two boys still had a lot of fun together.
“What do you want to do today?” Christopher asked. He bent over to tie his shoes, still caked with mud from his puddle-jumping competition with Ben the day before.
“Let’s go ride bikes,” Ben said.
The boys raced down the creaky porch steps and grabbed their bikes. When Ben discovered that the chain on his bike had come loose, he yelled out a bad word that sent a chill up Christopher’s neck.
Christopher had a bad feeling inside. He knew Heavenly Father didn’t want people to say words like the word Ben just said.
“I don’t really like that word,” Christopher told Ben. “We don’t say it at my house.”
Ben slowly lifted his head to look at Christopher. His eyebrows were scrunched down. He looked confused.
“What do you mean you don’t say that word at your house?” Ben asked.
“It’s just not a nice word, so we don’t say it,” Christopher replied.
“I don’t believe you,” Ben said. “Everybody says it. You have to say it.”
Christopher didn’t want to argue. He liked playing with Ben, but he knew that he needed to stand up for what he believed in.
“I’ve never said it, and I never will,” Christopher said. “You don’t have to say those kinds of words.”
“Whatever,” Ben said as he grabbed his bike and turned toward his house. “I’m going home,” he muttered as he trudged down the road.
Christopher felt bad that Ben was mad. He didn’t want to hurt Ben’s feelings. As he turned around to walk back into his house, he was surprised to see his mother standing in the doorway with a half-smile on her face.
As Christopher walked up the porch steps, Mom knelt down on one knee so she could look him in the eyes. “I’m very proud of you, Christopher,” she said. “It took a lot of courage for you to say what you said.”
“I believe I made Heavenly Father happy,” Christopher said. “But I think Ben is angry.”
“Everything will be fine,” Mom said. “Heavenly Father blesses us when we are obedient. You’ll see.”
The next morning, Christopher heard a knock on his front door. He hoped it was Ben. Several questions ran through Christopher’s head as he turned the doorknob. Would Ben still be mad? Would he call him names? Could they still be friends?
Christopher opened the door and prepared for the worst.
“Hi, Chris,” Ben said. “Do you want to play?”
Ben’s eyebrows weren’t scrunched down like they were the day before. He had a smile on his face. He wasn’t mad anymore. Christopher was happy.
“Sure, let’s go,” Christopher answered as he jumped outside.
Christopher never heard Ben use another bad word again. He knew his mother was right—Heavenly Father does bless us when we have the courage to stand up for the right.

Six-year-old Alma Elizabeth Mineer looked around the dark insides of the huge sailing ship, where a flickering oil lamp served as a night-light. In the shadows she could barely see some of the other passengers asleep in their berths.
She liked to listen to the night sounds. As the ship gently rocked from one side to the other, its big wooden beams creaked and groaned. Mothers sang softly to quiet their children. Although Alma could not always understand the words, she discovered that English and German and Swedish and Norwegian and Danish babies all cried in the same noisy language! Sometimes before falling asleep, Alma felt sad thinking about her home and friends and village in Sweden that she had left behind.
During the daytime Alma Elizabeth liked to climb up the stairs and walk out on the deck. At the front of the ship she would look and look, trying to see America. But day after day all she could see was the Atlantic Ocean in every direction.
Alma Elizabeth liked to watch the huge canvas sails puff full with the wind. She wished she could climb up the ropes like the sailors did. New friends often invited her to play games with them. Occasionally she tried out new English words. When they reached Utah, she knew she would have to speak English instead of Swedish.
Sometimes Alma Elizabeth crept into the part of the ship where the sailors lived. She became a favorite of the crew’s cook. He often gave her special treats, and she liked that because her family’s meals were not too tasty. They could cook only five meals each week. And the sea biscuits were so hard that she had to stomp on them with her shoes to break them open.
For five weeks in May and June of 1861, their ship, the Monarch of the Sea, sailed across the Atlantic. When it finally docked in New York harbor, little boats took the Latter-day Saint immigrants ashore. They all stayed overnight in a giant hall called Castle Gardens.
That night while the children tried to sleep on the floor of the building, Alma Elizabeth’s brother August discovered some sacks of brown sugar right next to him. One had a small hole in it and was spilling its contents. Alma Elizabeth and August had tasted no sugar or candy during the ocean voyage. So August found a spoon. Soon they had had a grand feast. But by morning they were sick!
Alma Elizabeth, with her family and the other Saints, took a long train trip to Iowa. There they joined wagon trains going to Utah. She walked the entire way, except when she got into a wagon to cross a deep river.
Alma Elizabeth’s father had trouble walking. In Sweden he had been a concert violinist and an orchestra director. Then rheumatism crippled him. Slowly he learned to use his hands and feet again, but it was difficult and painful. Elizabeth’s father was unable to keep up with the wagon train, and he insisted that his family go on ahead, promising to catch up with them.
Her father struggled on until he spotted a light. It was a camp of soldiers on their way to the Civil War. One soldier spoke Swedish. When they learned that Alma Elizabeth’s father was a musician, they found a violin and he played it for them. In the morning they took him on horseback and caught up with the wagon train.
When Alma Elizabeth’s family reached Utah they settled in Mount Pleasant. As a pioneer she worked hard. She learned how to card and spin wool, weave carpets, milk cows, knit and crochet, make gloves out of buckskin, weave hats out of braided straw, stack hay, and bundle wheat.
One time she collected wheat left in the fields after the harvest and sold it for $10. With some of the money, she bought ten yards of calico for her first party dress.
The day Alma Elizabeth turned eight years old she saw some elders baptizing people in a nearby creek. Her folks did not know about the baptismal service, so she ran home to tell them. With their permission she, too, was baptized in the creek. Afterward she walked to the meetinghouse to be confirmed. But after the confirmation, she felt very tired and fell sound asleep on a seldom-used church bench where people could not see her. When the meeting ended everyone went home. Alma Elizabeth’s family became concerned about her long absence, and they sent her big sister Helen to search for her. She found Alma Elizabeth still asleep in the now empty meetinghouse.
On a hot July day when Alma Elizabeth was ten years old, she went to a ward meeting. The people felt very discouraged because their crops needed rain. President Brigham Young came to the meeting, and she listened carefully when he rose to his feet and spoke. He promised the people that if they would listen to his words, the Lord would open the heavens and send the rains.
The words hardly left the prophet’s lips when Alma Elizabeth noticed the gathering clouds. Soon they filled the sky, and rain poured down in torrents. On that day she received a great testimony of the gospel that she remembered all her life.

The Holy Ghost also helped me when I moved to from Primary to Young Women. I was excited about moving to Young Women. But I felt quite nervous at the same time. I was a little sad to leave Primary too.

Before my first class, I said a prayer and asked Heavenly Father to help me enjoy Young Women. I felt peace in my heart as I stepped into my new classroom. I was ready to learn. It helped to remember that the Holy Ghost will always be there for me!

“This happened to me, and I was the one without any talent. I wanted to be a great artist just like my sister. I asked her how I was doing, and at first she just said, “Yeah, good.” Later she realized that this wasn’t what I wanted or needed. So she tactfully told me my work wasn’t really super, and she showed me how to improve.
“With my sister’s encouragement, patience, care, and great knowledge, she showed me how to draw much better. She also helped me to realize that drawing isn’t my greatest talent, and she did it because she really cares about my future. Even though it hurt a little to realize I’m not a great artist, I’m glad she told me, and I love her for it.”
Florence E. GardnerIrvine, California

1. Bobby knocked on his sister Alicia’s door. “Will you help me button my white shirt? I want to look just like the bishop.” Alicia smiled as she helped him. “You will look just like the bishop,” she said.
2. Bobby went to his brother Chris. “Will you help me tie my tie? I want to look just like the bishop.” Chris tied Bobby’s tie and said, “You will look just like the bishop.”
3. Bobby saw his sister Sarah fixing Laura’s hair. “Will you help me tie my brown shoes?” Bobby asked. “I want to look just like the bishop.” Sarah tied his shoes. “You will look just like the bishop,” she said.
4. “Don’t forget your suit coat,” Laura said. She helped him put his arms in the sleeves of the coat. “You will look just like the bishop.”
5. Bobby saw Mom looking in the mirror. “Mom, will you comb my hair? I want to look just like the bishop.” Mom sprayed Bobby’s hair with water and combed it. “You will look just like the bishop.”
6. Bobby stood at the front door. “Are we ready to go?” Bobby asked. “I want to be on time, just like the bishop.” “Don’t forget your scriptures,” Dad said. “You will need them to look like the bishop.”
7. Bobby picked up his scriptures. “Am I ready?” he asked. “You look just like the bishop,” Dad said.
8. At church, Bobby sat reverently as he waited for sacrament meeting to start. Then he saw a hand stretched out in front of him. It was the bishop! The bishop shook Bobby’s hand. “Is that you, Bobby?” the bishop asked. “I thought it was me!”

If you’ve ever taken seminary, I’m sure you remember the case studies that are included in the lessons to help us liken the scriptures unto us. And if you remember them, then no doubt you remember the one concerning what you would do if your friends asked you to cheat on an important test or you would be tempted to cheat yourself. If you’re like me, it was all black and white, and you said you would do the noble thing, the right thing.
Probably like many of us, I never really thought of these situations as something that would ever happen. It was too easy. Who wouldn’t do the right thing? Well, just a week ago, I was faced with this problem. It was the week for nine-week exams. Being a senior, I knew these tests were important; not only do they decide who passes and graduates but they are also recorded on our transcripts, the same transcripts that are sent to colleges. The night before the two tests that were going to give me problems—Advanced Chemistry and Economics—a friend called on the phone. She told me that two classmates had stolen copies of both of the tests. She had copies and would give me some early the next morning. Because she was in a hurry, my friend didn’t give me a chance to answer, which was just as well since I didn’t know what to say.
What a dilemma! Even though I was considered the best student in my class, I knew those tests would be tough. Oh, I knew I would pass even if I failed the tests, but I wanted so badly to keep that prestigious 4.0 average. I also knew I was the only LDS student in my school. It had been a worthwhile struggle to let everyone know what Mormons really believe. In fact, whenever a new person questioned me about the Church in front of my friends, it was my friends who hastened to tell my beliefs before I could answer.
All evening I thought about my problem. I tried to concentrate on how important it was for me to do well on these tests, but a thought kept nagging at me. For four years I had taken seminary and answered those case studies of how I would react in a situation exactly like this. Was I going to betray my standards after telling my friends what being a Mormon was all about? Was I now going to be a hypocrite? I decided to resist the temptation. I prayed to my Heavenly Father to make me strong and able to stand by my convictions.
At school the next morning my friend tried to give me a copy of the tests. I refused. She looked at me like I was crazy but said nothing. Later I realized that my friends had expected me to answer the questions on the stolen copies and then let a student who worked in the office run them off on the school copier for the rest of the class. I would like to say that I was looked upon as a hero, but, as it was, some of my classmates were angry with me. My true friends didn’t hold it against me. The students who had stolen the tests had my friend answer the questions and passed copies around to everyone in the class except for me and the local preacher’s son, who had also refused to get involved. I thank him for standing with me. No one ever likes to be alone. I wish I could say that I passed my tests with flying colors, but I only made an 82 on my Advanced Chemistry test. Nevertheless, I am proud of that 82.
The grades are not important when I realize that I passed an even greater test, a test of character, thanks to the gospel and seminary.

Another time when I learned the importance of prayer was when I was preparing for my first piano recital. I was about seven years old, and I was very nervous. I was afraid I would forget the piece, and I was also worried that my hands would shake so badly that I couldn’t play.
My mother knew I was scared, and she suggested that before I go on stage to play, I bow my head and ask Heavenly Father to help me feel calm and remember what I had practiced. I followed Mother’s advice, taking a moment to pray right before I performed.
He answered my prayers, and I learned that Heavenly Father could help me at all times in my life, even during piano recitals! I started to realize that He could help me in school. I prayed and asked Him to help me study and learn and take tests.
A few years later, when I was ten, my family visited the Hill Cumorah and the Sacred Grove. I remember standing on the Hill Cumorah and listening to Daddy explaining exactly what happened there. Then we went to the Sacred Grove, and Daddy told us about Joseph Smith praying to Heavenly Father for the truth. Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ appeared to young Joseph, blessing him with the answer to his prayer. I knew that if Joseph could get answers, so could I.
Throughout my life, I have talked to Heavenly Father regularly through prayer. I am very grateful to my parents for teaching me that Heavenly Father lives and that He always listens to us. He listens to me, and He listens to you. I know that He will always be there for you.

It had been an especially happy day for Milo. When his father and mother came in to say good-night to him, Milo tried to tell them about all the understandings he had gathered in the different countries they had visited.
“But now,” he said wistfully, “I guess all that will end when we go back home.”
“Oh no, Milo,” Father assured him. “As long as you have a sense of discovery and a desire to know more about other people, there will always be something to learn.”
Mother agreed. And then she added, “No matter where we live we can collect bits of knowledge and add to our understanding.”
Milo lay in bed thinking about the many things he had learned in the different Scandinavian countries. He would never forget his wonderful friends there.

Friends who don’t share your standards could actually weaken and tear your standards down. When I first moved to my new school, I tried to fit in by saying some of the things people around me would say. I almost forgot some of my standards while trying to be like everyone. I know now that in order to build your standards, you need friends who support and share your standards. I’m grateful I eventually found friends like that because they remind me of my standards.
Logan J., 15, Utah, USA

I called Victoria, my best friend, on Thursday. I was excited and nervous. When she answered, I asked her if she would come to church with me. She said that she would! I was so excited. I also felt all warm inside. I knew that the Lord was pleased with what I did.
Victoria asked me what time church was. I told her it was from eleven o’clock to two o’clock. She asked if we could pick her up. I answered that we would pick her up around ten-thirty.
When I got off the phone, I told my mom what Victoria had said. I even called my dad at work just to tell him. I couldn’t wait until Sunday. I thought, And all I had to do was make a simple phone call!
Kathleen Harris, age 10Orange Park, Florida

Dear Journal,
Today as I was leaving for school, I looked at the picture of Jesus on our wall. It reminded me that I was trying to be more like Him, so I decided to do something nice for someone as soon as possible. At school I saw a new girl wandering around looking lost, so I smiled and asked if she needed help. She said that she was just waiting for a friend, so I smiled again and walked on to class. I searched all day at school and all the way home afterward, but I didn’t see anyone to help.
When I got home, Mom was on the phone, and I could tell that she was talking to her friend Mary. When Mom talks to her, they’re on the phone a long time. Mom told me once that Mary was going through tough times and needed someone to listen to her.
I was on my way to my room when I remembered that I still hadn’t done something nice for someone. My nose told me that the baby needed a diaper change, and I decided that I could be like Jesus right in my own home! I was getting the diaper stuff so Mom could keep talking while she changed Annie, when I asked myself, What would Jesus do? I knew the answer. Jesus taught us to go the second mile, and He loved little children. I took Annie out of the playpen and changed her diaper myself.
It was so smelly that I almost took her to Mom, after all, but I didn’t. Mom saw me and gave me a huge smile that lit up her whole face. Annie grinned and cooed at me! I felt so good that before Mom got off the phone, I picked up Charlie’s toys in the living room and put them away.
Tonight when I was getting into bed, Mom came in and gave me a big hug and a kiss and told me how much she appreciated what I did for her. I felt a warm feeling in my heart as I hugged her back. I’m glad that I listened to President Hunter and tried to be a little more like Jesus. I can’t wait for the next general conference—I’m going to listen even better.