Gospel Story Finder

Could you use some great new friends? Would you like to discover talents you never knew you had? And how’s your self-confidence and poise? Could you use more?
Okay, let’s say you’re interested, but suspicious. What would I have to do? you are wondering. It’s easy. Become a pirate. Or a pioneer. Or a Nephite warrior. In other words, you might consider getting on the stage—and we’re not talking about the first stage out of town, either.
Every year, thousands of LDS youth are making new friends, discovering new talents, and gaining new confidence by getting involved in community theater, stake productions, or pageants.
Wait a minute, where are you going? What was that you mumbled about not being able to sing or dance or act? So what if you’re not one of those people who are loaded with talent and love to perform? Plenty of nonsingers, nondancers, and nonactors are discovering that they can sing and dance and act—at least a little—and they are having a great time doing it. They have no intention of making a career of it, but they are learning worthwhile things about themselves and about life. And they are making new friends and having fun in the bargain.
And those who absolutely don’t want to be in front of the scenery are having lots of fun painting that scenery. Or moving it around. Or handling the lights and sound. Or playing in the orchestra.
Oakley, Idaho, is just north of the Utah-Idaho border. Population: between 600 and 700. This is an unlikely place for an opera house. But it has one. And local youth, most of whom are LDS, are playing major roles in its success.
If the term “opera house” conjures up images of big ladies wearing horned helmets and carrying spears, well, that’s not exactly the kind of opera we’re talking about here. Last summer’s production at Howell’s Opera House featured bumbling cops, bungling pirates, and giggly school girls. Gilbert and Sullivan’s comic opera The Pirates of Penzance is hilarious to watch and even more fun to perform.
But even before the performance, when you visit backstage, the first thing you really notice is the closeness of the cast, the easy-going, comfortable friendships. Downstairs in the crowded “green room” they joke and chat as they help each other with makeup like life-long friends. Only when you talk to cast members do you discover that it was the show that really brought most of them together. They come from all over the area, and they go to several different schools. Some are new to the valley, and this has been a great way to make friends.
Nathan Archibald, 16, and Matt Niu, 18, are good buddies now. But they didn’t even know each other before the play. “That alone is worth your summer,” says Nate.
Melanie Ricks, 18, agrees. For her, the cast is the best part of the show. “I’ve made a lot of friendships I wouldn’t have made otherwise.”
Okay, time to change scenes (notice the theatrical term). Now the setting is the Salt Lake Valley. Earlier this year, the Sandy Utah Stake staged Promised Valley, which portrays the sacrifices of the pioneers and the Mormon Battalion. This musical drama has its humorous moments, but it centers around the pioneer experience, the hardships and separations and the faith they required. This makes it very different from The Pirates of Penzance. But if you put the two casts together to compare experiences, they would have a lot in common—like the friendship element.
On a Saturday morning at the Sandy stake center, one of the final rehearsals is taking place. There’s an air of controlled chaos as the orchestra tunes and practices and groups of performers mill around waiting their turns. You see them everywhere in small groups in the halls, the foyers, and corners of the cultural hall: friends, like Justin Dunslow and Thomas Hood. Both are 17 and both are very busy in school, and one of the best things about being in this play together, Justin says, is “it’s brought our friendship closer.”
Obviously, friendships are not the only thing that grows when you answer the casting call. Some of the kids in both Oakley and Sandy are old hands in the theater, with experience in numerous church, school, and community productions. Others are just beginning to discover what they can do. But everyone is discovering new talents and abilities.
Eli Hansen, 15, from Burley, Idaho, was taking an acting class in high school and thought Pirates would be fun. “I learned I have some talents I’ve never used before,” he says. “I didn’t know I could dance or sing. Now they’re getting me into the ward choir.”
Jud Vorwaller, 19, was in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat the summer before. In his senior year he sang in his high school choir. “I didn’t know I could sing,” Jud says. “A friend prompted me to try out. I didn’t want to because I was shy. Last year I had one solo and I was scared to death to do it. Opening night was nerve-racking. This year [when he had a lead role] I wasn’t nervous. I knew I had a lot to do, and if I got nervous, I was really in trouble.”
What has this experience done for Jud? “I’m not nearly as shy as before. I have more confidence in myself.” For someone headed for the mission field, that’s not a bad accomplishment.
Spencer Williams, 17, had a role as a Mormon Battalion member in Promised Valley, a part that required him to sing a solo. “I don’t like it much,” he admitted before the performance. And the thought of singing on the stage at the University of Utah’s Kingsbury Hall was kind of intimidating. But he went through with it. “It was a good experience,” he reported later. “Each night I got a little better.”
To be honest, Spencer didn’t sound like he was anxious to try out for a solo part again. And Thomas Hood, who had acted in his high school’s production of Arsenic and Old Lace, was pretty frank in evaluating his musical talents. “I found out I can’t sing,” he said good-naturedly. But even those who found singing a real stretch enjoyed their overall experience.
Speaking of music, one of the most obvious places to use a musical talent is in the orchestra pit. It’s hard work, say Shane Larsen, 14, and his brother Joseph, 16. When you point out to Shane that nobody really sees the orchestra, he says, “Yes, but they hear us. And if the music isn’t good, the play won’t be any good either.” Joseph admits that when he was on stage in previous productions, he kind of took the orchestra for granted, too. But not any more.
Of course, when it comes to being seen, no one would be seen—or heard—if the stage and sound and light crews were not on the job. Sandy stake’s Thomas Craft, 19, has acted in some productions, but he prefers to work behind the scenes. “Backstage people don’t always get credit, but they are very important for the play to turn out the way it should.”
Which brings up some of the things the stage can teach you about life. Kaisa Hansen was in Pirates. Now she’s a student at BYU. As much as anything, performing gave her an appreciation for the work of others. “When you get involved, you see how much people do behind the scenes. I have started realizing how much work people put into things. And when you are involved in something with other people, and you just play a small role, you are part of the glue that holds things together.”
Eli Hansen, 15, of Burley, talks about another lesson learned from the stage: “When you’re not part of the action, don’t upstage the others. Focus attention on them. Stay in character all the time. There’s always somebody watching you. You represent the Church name, your family name, even your employer. You have to be ‘on’ around the clock.”
When you get involved in stake productions or even Church pageants, there are still more lessons learned—things that shape and strengthen your testimony. Many of those who performed in Promised Valley volunteered that the experience had given them a greater appreciation of the pioneers and of their own heritage. As Spencer Williams notes, “To get into character, you have to imagine what it would have been like.” For him, the miracle of the crickets and the seagulls took on much deeper meaning.
Just like the friendships formed, those kinds of experiences can stay with you for years. Amy Hill, 18, of the Taylorsville Utah Central Stake, remembers when she was in her stake’s performance of the Book-of-Mormon-based A Day, a Night, and a Day. Amy was a ninth grader and had only a small nonspeaking part. But she has vivid memories of “acting out the Book of Mormon, thinking, Wow! this is so cool. This is how it would have felt.” Would she do it again? “I’d definitely recommend that kind of experience. I miss it sometimes.”
So what do the critics say? You’ve just heard from the critics who matter most—the people who have done it. So next time you have a chance to get on the stage (or behind the scenes, or in the orchestra pit) don’t start looking for the first stage out of town. If you want to develop friends, talents, and self-confidence, that stake musical or school play or community theater may be just the ticket.
Be a critic. The world judges plays and musicals as good or bad based on how well they are written and performed. Latter-day Saints must be concerned about content. What is the message? Are language and costumes appropriate? If you have to “become your character” in order to act well, what kind of character are you being asked to play? Several of the young people we talked to indicated that they were touched emotionally and spiritually by what they were portraying.
Be aware. There are lots of opportunities to get involved in wholesome theater. Most—but not all—school plays are safe. (Get a look at the script if you are unsure.) Stake and ward productions are a wonderful opportunity for friendships and personal growth. And many communities—especially those with a strong LDS influence—have local theater companies that have high moral standards. Ask around.
Be prepared to commit yourself and work hard. Rehearsals can be boring and tiring. But when everything comes together, the payoff can be terrific.

As soon as the constable took Joseph Smith away, Joseph Knight, Sr., went out and hired two men, a Mr. James Davidson and a Mr. John S. Reid, who were “respectable farmers who were well versed in the laws of their country,” to help Joseph during his trial before Justice Joseph P. Chamberlain.
Newel wrote in his journal:
“On the following day a court was convened for the purpose of investigating the charges which had been made against Joseph Smith, Jun. On account of the many scandalous reports which had been put in circulation, a great excitement prevailed. …
“The trial commenced among a crowded multitude of spectators, who generally seemed to believe Joseph guilty of all that had been alleged against him, and, of course, were zealous to see him punished for his crimes.”
Many witnesses were called up against Joseph Smith, including Josiah Stowell, for whom he had worked, and Mr. Stowell’s daughters, whom Joseph had known socially. Despite many attempts to elicit something from them which could be held against Joseph, all of the witnesses reported that Joseph Smith had dealt with them fairly and kindly.
Joseph Smith was acquitted by the Chenango County court of all charges, and at the very moment he was released, officials from the neighboring Broome County presented another warrant for his arrest.

George Q. Cannon was born in Liverpool, England, January 11, 1827. When he was thirteen years old, he and two other children in the family were baptized members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints through the efforts of his uncle, Elder John Taylor, then a young missionary serving in England. George’s parents had been baptized some months before. In 1842 George, with his family, sailed to America to join the Saints in Nauvoo. While traveling aboard ship, his mother died, and two years later his father died while on a business trip. However, all the children made it across the plains to Utah.

Speaking of expectations, let me share an experience I had several years ago when I attended a missionary zone conference. First of all, I'd never been to a zone conference, so this was a new experience for me. After reciting section 4 of the Doctrine and Covenants, many missionaries stood to bear their testimonies. I must admit that I was both thrilled and a bit disappointed by what I heard. Lack of premission preparation by some missionaries was evidenced by three occurring themes in the testimonies. This is what I heard: "I am gaining such a strong testimony of the Book of Mormon. I'm reading it now for the first time." Can you see the reason for my concern? These were young men and women who for the most part had been blessed with the privilege of attending seminary, Sunday School, and priesthood classes. Some of them may have been former Ricks College students. I don't know. But whatever their background, why were any of them reading the Book of Mormon for the first time in the mission field? Surely the Lord expects more of us.

Other missionaries said, "I am so glad to get out of the MTC. There were so many rules and restrictions in there--it felt like a prison." I was astounded. I had to chuckle as I wondered if these young missionaries were acquainted yet with the missionary handbook. I know there are rules in the missionary handbook. There are lots of rules. There are even rules here at BYU-Idaho which, by the way, are endorsed by the Board of Trustees comprised of apostles and prophets. God has given us many commandments. If we love Him, we obey Him--cheerfully.

Now, for the final theme I heard in that zone conference: "I love my companion" (with no mention of loving the Savior). Loving and getting along with a missionary companion is a prerequisite for having the Spirit to teach. But we don't go to the mission field only to declare our love for our companions; we go to declare our witness of Christ--a witness of our Savior's redeeming love, His divinity, and His power. That witness was noticeably lacking in the testimonies that day.

I was getting to know my new bishop when he said, “You said everything is fine, but something seems wrong.”
I explained that I was constantly behind in my coursework. I was depressed, lonely, and struggling with social anxiety.
“You are too hard on yourself,” he said. He taught me about the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the Savior’s patience and mercy. He also suggested that I talk to my parents and consider the possibility of therapy.
I started seeing a therapist. It didn’t solve everything at once. But because of my loving bishop, I got the help I needed.
Brenna H., Utah, USA

Years ago my father’s work took him to Australia. He was alone one Sunday, and he wanted to take the sacrament. He couldn’t find any information about Latter-day Saint Church meetings. So he started walking. He prayed to know which way to turn. After walking and making turns for an hour, he stopped to pray again. He felt an impression to turn at a particular street. Soon he began to hear singing coming from a building close by. He looked in at the window and saw a few people sitting near a table covered with a white cloth and sacrament trays.
That was only one example of a time when my father prayed and then did what the Holy Ghost told him to do. His whole life he did little things for God that he was prompted to do.

This type of ultimate concern can be seen in the example of
the young bishop who, against pressures and problems and at considerable inconvenience, traveled to another city to visit a bereaved widow on the eve of her husband’s funeral. The couple had long since moved from the bishop’s area, but he had made the effort to be with his good, wonderful old friends at this tender time. He found the elderly lady standing alone beside the body of her beloved of more than half a century. As he comforted her, she said through her tears, “Oh bishop, I knew you would come.” [Hanks, Gift of Self, 61; emphasis in original]

In September 2021, before the general conference, I visited the holy temple. I felt truly happy, telling my Heavenly Father about the joy and progress in my life, work, Church, and with my children. Having been divorced for nearly five years, I was content and hoped to remain that way.
The following week, a gentleman named José, that I knew somewhat through his daughter, sent me a friend request on Facebook. I was surprised, but nevertheless, we began chatting. During that time, my grandmother was very ill in the hospital. The night before she passed, I reached out to him for comfort, and he was there for me, even at 5:00 in the morning. His support meant a lot during that difficult time.
After my grandmother’s funeral on October 16, 2021, I asked José to meet and talk. I remember arriving at the restaurant, and he was waiting for me outside; we greeted each other with a hug and talked for several hours. On that first date, he told me, “I want to get married, and if it were with you, even better.”
From then on, we felt an incredible bond, as if we had known each other forever. Just days later, we knew we wanted to be together for life and decided to get married six months later.
Despite some challenges, we married civilly on April 8, 2022, in a small but joyful ceremony. We were sealed for eternity on December 17, 2022, in the Monterrey Mexico Temple.
For 11 incredible months, we shared many special moments until José began feeling unwell. After numerous tests, he was diagnosed with advanced cancer. We held onto hope through treatments, but his health declined rapidly. Despite his physical deterioration, his spirit grew stronger, his testimony deepened, and his gratitude never wavered. We spent our days reflecting on our experiences, feeling God’s love even in the most challenging moments.
Every day, we meditated on what we had learned that day and enjoyed sharing our feelings and the teachings of the Spirit. One of the most important things the Father taught us was patience because we prayed to be patient. We realize He doesn’t give us the gifts we ask for but allows us to develop them as we experience trials. Through the nights of tears and pain, we felt gratitude for the covenants we were able to make in the temple that promised us we would be together after this earthly life and through the eternities. It was the most beautiful blessing we received.
As his condition worsened, we had the chance to say our goodbyes, full of tears but also gratitude for our time together. The night before he passed away, he had a moment of clarity in the hospital. Not only did he see those of us visiting in the room, but he also saw people dressed in white around him and believed he was in the temple. We knew his time on this earth was short. On November 23, 2023, after eight months of fighting, José passed away. I held his hand until his last breath.
The 768 days I spent with José were the most intense, beautiful, and spiritually enriching days of my life, filled with service, adventures, learning, and trusting in the Lord. Through this experience, I learned that God loves and knows us infinitely. He knows the deepest desires of our hearts. I learned that selfless service brings us closer to the Lord and allows us to show love to those we serve. I learned that we can have moments of difficulty and still feel peace in our souls if we trust that God is watching over us.

Two weeks ago we were riding a plane from San Francisco to Sydney, Australia. We noted a young man in a nearby seat reading the book Joseph Smith, an American Prophet. When opportunity presented itself, I spoke to him. I told him that I had read the book, that I had known the author, and asked him what his interest was. He said, among other things, that he had an interest in prophets and that this matter of a possible modern prophet had intrigued him. He had picked up the book at the library. We had a lengthy conversation in which I bore my witness that Joseph Smith was indeed a prophet. Not only did he speak of things to come, but more importantly, he was a revealer of eternal truth and a testifier of the divine mission of the Lord Jesus Christ. I am hopeful that that young man, as he continues his studies, will have come into his heart a similar testimony. I feel confident that he will.

Thank you for the article “Eating Disorders: A Deadly State of Mind” (February 1993). I went on my first diet when I was 11 and suffered from bulimia for six years. I pray for the others out there who are headed on the same track. Please get off now before you lose more than just pounds. An eating disorder becomes a way of life, and it leaves little time for others or yourself because your energy and attention is always focused on food. I look back and see how much I missed and the people I distanced because of this self-absorbing cycle. I am now 24, and I’m learning to eat and look at food in a whole new way. Make no mistake about it, eating disorders are just as dangerous as an alcohol or drug addition.
Kristen AbtsEugene, Oregon

For example, David thought there might be something funny about the signs he sees on doors that say, “This door must remain unlocked during business hours.” Then he tried to imagine a situation where that sign would be funny.
“I had an inmate at a prison write this on a sign,” said David, “and post it on the prison door with a guard reading it and unlocking the door. The caption said, ‘Mel knew it was a long shot, but somehow it worked.’”

Another great quality Merlene has is her love for animals. More times than I can tell you we have had stray animals become permanent pets simply because after my wife has taken care of them for several days, they feel they have found a home. I remember one little furry dog who one morning began whimpering on our back steps. It was bitter cold, the temperature was around zero, and Merlene heard the whimpering. She got up and went to the door, and she saw this furry little dog who had been caught in a trap that had been set by someone in the neighborhood. The dog had somehow pulled the stake attached to the trap loose and had dragged the trap to our nearby house. Merlene cried as she saw the pitiful plight of this little dog. I remember going out; the foot was frozen because the big, heavy trap had conducted the coldness into the foot and leg. I remember taking the trap gently off the leg and taking the dog to the veterinarian for appropriate care. Because of her great love for animals, each of our children loves animals.

When four Aaronic Priesthood youths went looking for a service project, they didn’t expect to discover a “radio star.”
But 81-year-old Florence Sperry turned out to be as big a sports enthusiast as Mark Reeves, John Myers, Bruce Bennett, and Jeff Proctor when the four took her to a Utah Stars basketball game.
Sister Sperry has been a Stars fan since their birth in 1970 and has followed their play on radio for the past five seasons. She keeps a scrapbook of their newspaper clippings, a notebook tabulating each game’s score by quarters, and she has even been known to take her phone off the hook during game broadcasts. She had, however, never seen the Stars in live action.
The boys decided that no one better deserved to see the acclaimed hoopsters than Sister Sperry.
They took her to the game and really got “Stars” treatment from the players, one of whom commented, “You really are 81 years young!” She was even interviewed over the station she had listened to all those Stars’ games on.
After the game the whole group dropped into a nearby drive-in for a hamburger with Sister Sperry saying, “I’ll never forget this night.”
Bruce added that the four would be back to have a family home evening with her, and John concluded, “We’re going to remember this night for a long, long time.”

In this week’s devotional discussion board, Kris posted, “I tend to put up walls to protect myself because of things that happened in my childhood, so it is difficult to make friends. The people who continue to try to connect with me despite my walls are angels sent to me. I know it is not easy to be my friend and so I am grateful for the ones who don't give up. I have one such friend that I met when I first moved here. She literally saved my life because she insisted on taking me to the hospital when I thought I was fine. My appendix had ruptured 15 hours before and if she hadn't taken me, I would have died.”

Each young man and young woman of the High Country Ward, San Antonio Texas Stake, received a mysterious message marked “Top Secret.” They were instructed to memorize the contents of the letter and discuss it only with their parents if they chose to accept their assigned “secret mission.”
Those involved in the planning of the event kept things to themselves. On the assigned day, 42 youth met at the church parking lot. After being divided into teams, the groups traveled to their final destination, Camp Bullis, a military installation nearby.
Then the real adventure began. The groups of young people were introduced to a specially designed obstacle course, created to help military personnel practice problem-solving and team-building skills. Each station on the course involved problem-solving situations and physical barriers that had to be overcome. The participants started to take the team building experience seriously. Amid high-fives, cheers, and hugs, a new feeling of concern for each other emerged in the teams. One young woman feared heights and couldn’t bring herself to climb a 20-foot cargo net, but she didn’t want to let her team down. An alert team member, sensing her dilemma, said, “Don’t look up or down, just look at me and let’s go.” Together they successfully made the climb.
As the groups began to work on the course obstacles, their differences seemed to evaporate.
Discord became harmony. Harsh words were replaced with friendship. A spirit of selflessness and caring among all the teams became evident.
After the morning’s exercise, they returned to the meetinghouse for a barbecue and to review what they had experienced. Overwhelmingly the response was positive, and for a time the youth felt a oneness that proved to them that by working together they could overcome any challenge they meet.

The play revolved around the struggles in the lives of the three oldest children in a large LDS family. The oldest daughter had to decide whether to marry a young man who could not marry her in the temple; the nearly nineteen-year-old son had to decide between a football scholarship and a mission; and the sixteen-year-old daughter faced the choice of maintaining her standards or joining with her peers in a more wild way of life. By the end of the play, because of sincere personal efforts and help from family members and leaders, all three had reached the right decisions.

In 1926 President Fred Tadje, president of the German-Austrian Mission, called a mission conference to be held at Dresden, Germany, in August. The missionaries were to walk to this conference from their fields of labor basically “without purse or scrip,” although they had to carry a small amount of money or they could be arrested as vagabonds.
Elder Alfred Lippold and his companion, Elder Parker Thomas, took the north route. Somewhere along the way, the two called at a home where they met a woman and her eight children. She told the elders that her husband had left her and the children and that they were now without money. After she had let them in, the woman said: “If you travel without purse or scrip, then you must be hungry. Sit down.” She gave each of them a big slice of bread with plum jam on it. The missionaries blessed the breakfast and in the blessing on the food asked the Lord to give the woman what she needed.
The missionaries then departed. After they had walked about a mile, Elder Thomas said, “I must go back,” which he did without explanation.
On his return, Elder Lippold asked, “Why did you go back?”
Elder Thomas explained: “In our prayer we asked that the woman be given what she needed. I had what was needed—a $20 bill. It was in my pocket, and I went back to give it to her. It would have burned a hole in my pocket.”

Elder Helio da Rocha Camargo, a former member of the Seventy, once told of a ward clerk who sincerely prayed that he would be able to learn what he needed to know to fulfill his calling. At the time, all statistical and financial records were kept manually, without the help of a computer. That month, it seemed every possible problem occurred for this ward clerk: bank statements did not reconcile, records contained incorrect dates, and so on. These problems brought extra and overwhelming work. That clerk went to Heavenly Father in prayer and said, “Father, I asked Thee to help me learn to be a clerk, and then all sorts of problems happened with the records.” The response came quickly to his mind: “And didn’t I help you?”

From the very start of our journey, I was moved by President Kimball and Sister Kimball’s concern for the others traveling with them. When my wife and I boarded the airplane in Salt Lake City, we took seats to the side and in back of President Kimball. A few minutes after the plane took off and the seat belt sign was turned off, President Kimball turned around and said to us, “Are you comfortable?” I was there to serve him and the others traveling with him, and yet he showed this concern for us. Throughout the entire trip this great, kind, friendly man was always interested in the welfare of the people around him. We felt so comfortable traveling with him because of his warmth and graciousness.

There’s something different about Chris and Jason Trevino of Huntsville, Alabama. Something different in a positive way, a way that makes you want to understand why they’re so upbeat all the time and why they seem to have life all figured out.
This is made all the more intriguing by the fact that the two 19-year-old brothers are identical twins—twins so much alike that people get confused, yet with something so different about them they stand out among their peers. For example:
—They spend a lot of time helping their neighbors, the Wellmans, take care of their three youngest children, Michael, Jennifer, and Nathan. They play and laugh with and tease them in a good-natured way. They organize parties for them and take them fishing or boating. Sometimes they all camp out as a group in the Wellmans’ backyard. Chris and Jason are more like older brothers than neighbors to them. And what do the twins get in return for their kindness? A squeeze play. The kids smother them with hugs.
—They take care of three horses at a nearby riding club, mostly in return for the privilege of being allowed to exercise them now and then. They do the dirty work without complaining. They show up when they say they will and do all that they’re asked. They help with expenses. They’re totally dependable.
—They love their family. Put Jim and Barbara Trevino and their twin boys together and it’s like you’re with a group of best buddies, friends who treat each other with ultimate respect. Add 15-year-old sister Allison to the mix, and it only gets better.
Bad mood? The twins make it disappear.
Help with homework? No problem.
Want to tag along while we go somewhere? Great. Hop in.
Yes, the twins treat everyone well, most of all mom and dad and sister. But there’s something else—fondness may be the closest description. This family really enjoys being together, in a way that lets you know they’ll always be close.
—Most of all, at a time in life when many young men of their age and athletic ability concentrate on which college they’ll attend, what teams they’ll be on, and what young women they’re dating, the twins are leaving all that behind.
Argentina. That’s what they want to talk about right now, because soon that’s where they’ll be. They’ve both been called to serve as full-time missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Chris in Bahia Blanca. Jason in Resistencia. Two years at their own expense. Two years bearing testimony of the Lord Jesus Christ. Two years focused entirely on the needs of other people.
And maybe that’s the clue to figuring out the Trevino twins. The difference that makes them both the same is their love for other people. It’s a love that comes from following the Savior and living his teachings, from concentrating on what really counts instead of wasting worry on worldly things. It’s a dedication that brings happiness so filling it spills out into everything they do and everyone they meet. Add that to personalities that have always been spontaneous, and you’ll find Chris and Jason telling everyone what they’re up to:
—Getting passport pictures taken, they keep telling the photographer about how they’ll be representing the Church. “That’s why we brought our suits for the pictures,” Chris explains.
—Meeting with the county sheriff, who has to sign letters for their visas, they can’t help explaining how excited they are about spreading the gospel. “I can tell,” chuckles the sheriff, who already knows their father.
—At the county government building, they tell the clerks about going to Argentina to preach the gospel. “Isn’t that great?” Jason beams.
—Their mother’s boss, Victor Howard, is a Church member who works across the street. Dropping in to visit, they soon have him joking along with them. But after a few minutes, they talk seriously about the mission he served and how much he loves the Lord, the gospel, and the Church.
You have to understand. Chris and Jason are the kind of guys who, if you ask about diving and you’re close to the community pool, will show you the dives they do. Never mind that they didn’t bring their suits. They’ve been lifeguards here, and the caretaker, who knows them well, gives permission. They look at each other, accept the challenge, and even though they’re in jeans, jump on the board and plunge in the pool. You get the feeling that’s the same way they’ll plunge into missionary work—follow the rules, be dependable, work hard. But get with it—no wimpy excuses.
It’s sort of like a lesson Chris says he learned at the stables.
“Horses are good,” he explains. “If you work with them you learn to love them. But there’s one named Alvin. I don’t like to ride him a whole bunch because of his attitude. He fights me and tries to get the reins from my hands. He thinks he should do what he wants when he wants. There are a few missionaries who are like that. If their mind’s stuck on somebody back home, or if they go out just because everybody else thinks they should be there, they’ve got to change their attitude. You can’t complain about the reins; you’ve got to concentrate on where you’re going.”
And that’s what Chris and Jason are doing—concentrating on where they’re going. Not just on their missions but in their lives.
Sure there are some things that will be tough to leave behind. Family first of all. Friends a close second. Even the horses they’ve taken care of. And school, and work, and just having a blast. But nothing stands in the way once you gain the perspective of eternity. Even having to work in separate missions.
“Chris opened his call letter first, and I saw Argentina,” Jason says. “Then I opened mine, and for a split second it was like, ‘We’ll be in the same mission!’ Then we read more and found out we’d be in different parts of the country. We’ve been together for 19 years, and now we’ll be apart. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is what we’ll be doing.”
Serving others. Bringing them the truth.
Like the times when they’ve talked with Mrs. Wellman about her oldest son, who died in an accident at age four, and where he is now and what he’s doing. Like the times when they’ve shared Church magazines with her, or watched the video Called to Serve.
“Don’t just let her borrow it,” Chris said then. “Let’s have her over here and we’ll all watch it together.”
These are, after all, brothers who are close in more ways than appearance. “We talk about everything together,” Jason says. “Now we’ll just do it through our letters.” That will make for some pretty great letters. Letters they’ll share with Mom and Dad and Allison. Letters they’ll share with the Wellmans and their kids. Letters they’ll share with close friends. Letters in which they’ll bear testimony and record the adventures of two years spent preaching the gospel.
“In the past we looked at missions like they were something they ask you to do,” Jason says. “Once we got closer to it, we thought, ‘It’s the Lord and the prophet who call you, and their way is the right way to go.’ We’d go to church and come home in such a great mood. We talk to everybody about it.”
That includes the 12- and 13-year-old Sunday School class he and Chris teach together.
“I’m learning more and more about the gospel,” Jason says, “especially when we talk about things like the plan of salvation and patriarchal blessings. It’s a learning experience. And I think a lot about Heavenly Father and how much he loves us. He gave up his son for us. He must have a lot of love for us to do something like that.”
“Being as close as I am to my brother,” Chris continues, “it gives me some understanding of how close I should be to the Savior, who is also my brother. Even though Jason and I will be apart during our missions, we’ll be close to Him. And that will make the bond between us even stronger.”
Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. That’s the something that makes these twins different from a lot of their peers, but exactly the same in what truly counts.
Editor’s note: Since this story was written, both Chris and Jason have arrived in Argentina and are faithfully serving their missions.