Gospel Story Finder

Jonathan Remengesau also is grateful for the blessing of a new wheelchair. Diabetes had caused his leg to be amputated in 2002. When his old wheelchair finally stopped functioning, he looked around for a new one. He was dismayed at the high cost of a new wheelchair—usually more than U.S. $700—a cost he knew he could not afford on his limited income. The plywood seat on his old chair was chafing his legs and causing painful sores. He finally gave up hope and decided to avoid leaving home. He rejoiced when he heard that he was qualified to receive a free wheelchair.

“This is the first time that anyone has really helped me like this,” he said as he sat in his new chair.

At age 25, I found myself in a verbally abusive relationship. I’d become less active in the Church, but when I finally left my boyfriend, I decided to go back to attending church regularly. I wanted to be on the straight and narrow path again. Little did I know, though, that when I made that decision, I was already pregnant.
I decided to stay true to my choice to be active again in the Church, but I didn’t really want to be pregnant and go to church where I lived. I wanted to attend a ward in a different city, so I went there one Sunday. It was the day of the Primary sacrament meeting presentation. As the children talked about how Heavenly Father always loves us, I felt His love too. That message was a great blessing for me that day.
After the meeting, I asked the bishop if I could attend that ward given my situation. He advised me to go to the ward within my boundaries. I didn’t want to, but he assured me I’d be OK, and I was.
When I told my bishop about my pregnancy, he was so helpful. It was a blessing to meet with him regularly. As I talked with him about my options for the baby, he wanted me to know that he was there to represent the Lord in my repentance process but would not tell me what decision to make about raising or placing my baby. As we were studying Doctrine and Covenants 9:8–9, my bishop asked me to pray and tell Heavenly Father what I really wanted—he encouraged me to make a decision and seek confirmation from the Lord.
So I went home and prayed. I told Heavenly Father all the amazing reasons why I would be the best mom for this baby, and I asked to know if that decision was right. The next day, everything in life felt like it was falling apart. For instance, I lost my medical insurance, and my car broke down.
At church the following Sunday, I told my bishop how life seemed to fall apart after I prayed about my decision. Because of what had happened after my prayer, my bishop suggested that I consider a different decision and seek confirmation about it instead.
While working with my bishop, I had considered placing the baby for adoption and had narrowed down the potential adoptive families to two couples. The bishop suggested that I select one of the two couples and pray about that decision to ask if this little guy needed to go with them.
I went home and reluctantly prayed, asking Heavenly Father if the couple I had chosen were the ones my child needed. The next morning, a connection my sister made led to a miracle solution for my insurance. I felt this was a confirmation that adoption was the right path for me, and I remember thinking this child could have so much more with a different family.
I knew that Heavenly Father would help me with this decision. Part of me hoped this choice would be like the story of Abraham and Isaac (see Genesis 22)—that when it came time for me to place my son for adoption, God would tell me I didn’t need to do it anymore. But He didn’t. I needed to place my son with a wonderful family.
As I sat in the hospital with my new little bundle of joy, I turned on the TV. General conference happened to be on. I heard a talk by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles entitled “None Were with Him.” He taught that “because Jesus walked such a long, lonely path utterly alone, we do not have to do so.”1 I closed my eyes and told Heavenly Father that I felt so alone, and then I felt so much love from Him.
After the placement, I felt completely empty. But in the back of my mind, I still knew I wasn’t alone. I knew Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ were with me, as Elder Holland had taught. I prepared for the temple and received my endowment. I was obeying the commandments, and I was determined I would never let myself be deceived into wrong choices again.
But years later, I was deceived again and ended up in another abusive relationship. When I broke away, I found out I was pregnant again. I didn’t want to place the baby. I was older than before, and I felt like I could be a good mom. I met with my bishop and a social worker. I started following the same process that I had before in praying about adoption, but nothing ever seemed to click. It always felt difficult.
I still went to church. Sometimes ward members would say they were surprised to see me there pregnant, which hurt a little. But I still went every week. I wanted people to see that what I had done reflected a choice I had made but that it didn’t define who I was. I worked with my bishop to move forward.
As my due date grew closer, I started to panic. With my first baby, I’d had a plan, but this one was so different. I didn’t feel like I was receiving a strong answer regarding any option for my baby. I let the couple whom I had placed my first baby with know that I was pregnant but unsure of whether I would place, and that if I did place, I would want them to raise this baby as well.
After I had the baby, I still felt unsure. Then my doctor came in to check on us and said, “I don’t know if you’ll be able to have children again, so love this little one.” While that may not be the answer for everyone, I felt the Spirit confirm that this was the right choice for me. After panicking for nine months, I felt peace. I let the couple know that I had decided to parent my daughter.
I wanted to be the best mom I could be, and I knew that the only way to do that was staying close to family and the Lord’s Church. I knew that what I had learned in the gospel of Jesus Christ would help her like it had helped me.
With my pregnancies, was one decision easier than the other? No. Both options were hard—just different kinds of hard, as were the joys. With my daughter, she is an incredible delight to me. Yet being a single mother is hard. With the son I placed, I still think about him and hope he’s happy throughout his life, but I am not as involved in his day-to-day happenings. When I was pregnant with him, I couldn’t see what Heavenly Father had in mind for him. But now I can see it, and I know he’s where he needs to be.
We can’t know beforehand what placing or single parenting will be like. But we can always trust in the Lord.
As part of my repentance, I remember hearing my bishop say, “Your sins are forgiven.” I felt such great relief, and I realized that the Atonement of Jesus Christ is real. I would remember my sin, but from that moment on, my Savior, Jesus Christ, would remember it no more (see Doctrine and Covenants 58:42). I knew that He wanted me to move forward to become a better person, to become what He sees I can be. That’s what I strive to do every day—to become even closer to Him and to hold ever tighter to the iron rod (see 1 Nephi 15:23–24; see also 1 Nephi 11:25).
One of my favorite scriptures reads, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16). I am grateful for Heavenly Father’s plan of redemption.
I currently serve as my ward’s Young Women president. One principle I try to help the young women learn is that regardless of any choices they make, there is no place where they are out of Heavenly Father’s reach. As Elder Holland taught: “However many mistakes you feel you have made or talents you think you don’t have, or however far from home and family and God you feel you have traveled, I testify that you have not traveled beyond the reach of divine love. It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.”2
I hope that the young women in my ward—and everyone—remember that truth. It has blessed my life immeasurably, and the joys I now feel in living the gospel have become an even greater strength to me.

“Oh no,” Michael moaned to himself. “Not another errand!” He knew that he shouldn’t feel this way. He loved his father. But ever since his father’s accident, it seemed like all he ever did was ask Michael to run errands for him.
“I’m coming.” Michael could hear the irritation in his words and guiltily hoped that his father would hear it, too, and respond with a “Never mind.” But there was no reply, so Michael slowly made his way to his parents’ bedroom.
Even though it had been over four months since the car accident, it still seemed strange to see his father in bed during the daytime hours. Michael knew that it was difficult for his father to lie there day after day, but it was difficult for him, too. He had been eager to run errands for his father during the first few weeks. But lately it was getting harder to give up what he wanted to do. Again today he had had to tell his best friend, Brad, that he couldn’t come over after school because he was needed at home.
It didn’t help that in a few days Michael would turn twelve. There would be few presents and no party with his friends. His mother and father had said that they were sorry—they didn’t have the time or the money this year for a friend party. It would have to be a family-only party.
Life before the accident seemed like a distant dream. Money had not been a real problem then. Now Michael worried more and more about what would happen to him and his family. His mother had taken a part-time job at a bakery to help make ends meet. Michael knew that as the oldest child in his family, he had a responsibility to help as much as he could. Lately, though, that responsibility seemed to weigh more and more, even though he did the same things: caring for his younger siblings, mowing the lawn, vacuuming the carpet, washing clothes and dishes, helping prepare meals when Mom worked late, and running errands for Dad.
As Michael went into his parents’ bedroom, the afternoon sun spilled through the window and across the multicolored quilt tucked around his father. His father turned the quilt back and slowly pushed himself up against the pillows behind him. “Michael, come here a minute, please.” Even though his face showed the strain of sitting up, he smiled at Michael. “I have an errand for you.”
Michael could feel the irritation building again. He didn’t want to run any more errands.
“Please get my scriptures for me. They’re on top of the dresser.” Michael’s father pointed toward the far end of the room.
Michael had always liked the smell and feel of the leather cover of his father’s worn scriptures. He handed them to his father and was about to leave, when his father said, “Hold on a minute. I want to say something to you. I know that these past four months have not been easy for you. You’ve given up a lot to help take care of me and the rest of the family. I want you to know how much I appreciate what you have done and how much I love you.” As Michael felt his irritation begin to seep away, his father continued. “There’s something else I want you to know. Even though you’ve given up many things, I’ve noticed that you’ve acquired others that are more important.”
“Huh?” Michael could think of several things that he’d given up, but nothing that he had gained during the past four months. “What things?”
“Well, every time you run an errand for me, you come back with something for both of us.”
None of what his father was saying made any sense to Michael. Maybe the accident caused some brain damage, he thought with concern.
Michael’s father saw his look of bewilderment and laughed softly. “Let me explain. I’ve seen you grow more these past four months than at any other time in your life. Every time you went on an errand, you came back with more maturity, more talents, and more skills.” He held up the scriptures. “The Savior taught that He only did the things His Father sent Him to do. His whole life was an errand for His Father. He willingly gave up His will to do the will of His Father. Because of that, He received everything His Father has.* In a few days, you’ll receive the Aaronic Priesthood and will be ordained a deacon. Do you know what that means?”
“I’ll be able to pass the sacrament, and I’ll go to priesthood meeting instead of Primary.”
“That’s right. But it means much more than that. It also means that you will be on the Lord’s errand. If you always do what He asks of you, even if it means giving up everything you have, what you receive in return will be far more valuable than any earthly possession or entertainment.”
Michael left the room with a completely different feeling than he’d had when he had entered. Pondering what his father had said, he realized that not all the changes in his life had been too hard—not if they made him a better person.
From downstairs, he heard his mother call, “Michael, can you run an errand for me?”
This time, he responded quickly and with joy.

The girls were encouraged to think about their future goals in preparation for a very special fashion show that was also part of the conference. Each young woman either made or coordinated an outfit to wear, and as they were escorted down the runway, their achievements and dreams were capsulized by the emcee.
Amanda Wilson, 15, of the Richardson First Ward, was right in her element during this part of the day. Her mother began teaching her to sew when she was seven years old, and now you might wonder who is teaching whom. Not only did Amanda sew several outfits for the fashion show, but she designed them as well, making her own patterns.
Amanda is refining her talents now so that one day she can major in fashion merchandising and hopefully have her own designing business. But in the meantime, she uses her abilities by sewing for ward members.

The day after Mother’s Day, eight-year-old Eric and his mom went to the local pharmacy to buy some medicine. Eric walked around the pharmacy while his mother purchased the medication. When they got back in the car, Eric asked if he could talk to his mom for a minute.
“Sure,” Mom said, reaching to turn the car’s key.
Eric grabbed her hand and said, “Don’t go. Can we talk right here?” Mom shifted in her seat to listen.
Eric told her about a boy in his school class named Josh.* Josh’s mother had died of cancer during the previous Christmas holidays. Ever since then, Josh was often very sad at school. Sometimes his dad even had to come and take him home from school because he couldn’t stop crying.
Mother’s Day had been very hard for Josh. He had brought a stuffed bear to school the next day and had hugged it for comfort all the time. During recess, he had taken the bear to the playground. Some of the bigger kids took Josh’s bear away from him. They teased him by throwing it back and forth, and the bear ripped apart. Eric felt bad because he knew Josh’s family might not be able to buy him another bear. While in the pharmacy, Eric had seen a bear just like Josh’s. He wanted to spend his money to buy it for Josh.
Eric and his mom went back into the pharmacy and bought the bear. Eric took it to school in his backpack the next day. Mom told Eric not to give the bear to Josh until she had made sure it was OK with their teacher. The teacher told Eric’s mother she would be glad to arrange for Eric to give the bear to Josh.
That evening, Mom asked Eric how it went. He said their teacher had asked the two of them to stay in for a few minutes while the rest of the class went to recess. She asked Josh what had happened to his bear the day before. Josh’s first words were “Eric didn’t do it.”
She said that wasn’t the reason she’d had them stay in and then explained that Eric wanted to give him another bear. The bear went from backpack to backpack for safekeeping. Eric said Josh almost cried when he gave it to him. Eric said the best feeling of all was to see Josh smile. As Josh left for the day, he gave Eric a big high-five.

As I read about my ancestors, I learned that they apparently had the typical Kirschbaum trait of a quiet, good-natured disposition—except when aggravated. I read with amusement about a local notary who apparently played a mean trick on one of my ancestors. The man later found himself shut up in his own house by a cartload of “natural fertilizer” that was delivered to his doorstep by Herr Kirschbaum himself—the mayor.

Eliza learned as a child to respect the Bible. She attended a Baptist Sunday School, where she often memorized chapters from the New Testament. She remembered, “My heart yearned for the gifts and manifestations of which those ancient Apostles testified.” She desired to “see, and listen to a true Prophet of God, through whom He communicated His will to the children of men.” But her teachers taught her that those days and blessings had passed.2

Oliver and Rosetta Snow, Eliza’s parents, taught their children to listen to people with different religious beliefs and choose for themselves. Eliza soon realized that with so many diverse religious practices, she searched for something firmly founded in Bible teachings. In the fall of 1830, when Eliza was 26, the Snows heard about Joseph Smith, “a Prophet to whom the Lord was speaking from the heavens”—the very model that she had been looking for since her childhood. As much as she wanted the news to be legitimate, she wrote, “I considered it a hoax—too good to be true.” Eliza continued to study the ancient prophets in order to learn their patterns.3

In the winter of 1831–32, Joseph Smith came to the Snow home. As he sat by the fire, Eliza “scrutinized his face as closely as I could without attracting his attention, and decided that his was an honest face.” Even so, her investigative nature led her to observe what happened over time. She attended a local meeting where Joseph and two Book of Mormon witnesses spoke, and she was deeply impressed. Her mother and sister, Rosetta and Leonora, believed and were baptized that spring.4 Still Eliza waited, studying the Book of Mormon, watching and listening.

In the spring of 1835, Rosetta and Leonora went to Kirtland, Ohio, where other Latter-day Saints lived. They returned with stories about the Church, the priesthood, and great spiritual manifestations. Five years had passed since the time Eliza first heard about Joseph Smith. The accounts of her mother and sister brought Eliza an undeniable witness of the truth. She had waited until she knew it was true. “My heart was now fixed,” she wrote. She decided to be baptized.5

Even then, baptism was a challenge for Eliza, a humble woman who followed social rules and propriety. She prayed for someone to come baptize her, but no one came. When she heard of a meeting of the Saints about two miles from home, she asked her father’s permission to go and be baptized—as an adult, she respected her father, and he readily consented. At the meeting, there was no discussion about baptism, but Eliza gained courage to stand up and request the privilege. Before she could arise, a dark fear came over her. She pushed through the fear and was baptized in a nearby stream on April 5, 1835. “From that day to this I have not doubted the truth of the work,” she wrote.

That night, Eliza reflected on her baptism: “I felt an indescribable, tangible sensation, … commencing at my head and enveloping my person and passing off at my feet, producing inexpressible happiness.” She saw in a vision a candle with a long, bright flame, and a voice told her, “The lamp of intelligence shall be lighted over your path.” She was satisfied.6

Eliza moved to Kirtland to join the Saints for a time and taught school. When she returned to her family’s home at the end of the term, her old friends and neighbors asked about the “strange people” with whom she associated. “I was exceedingly happy in testifying of what I had both seen and heard,” she later wrote. Eliza determined to change her life and live permanently with the Latter-day Saints. Her conversion deepened even further in 1837 when she lived with Joseph Smith and his family. Again, she observed. “I had ample opportunity of judging his daily walk and conversation,” she recalled. She saw much more than the miraculous events of the Kirtland Temple dedication—she saw the life and relationships of a prophet of God. “The more I made his acquaintance, the more cause I found to appreciate him in his divine calling.”7

Thirty-seven years after her baptism, with a heart firmly fixed through persecutions in Missouri and the eventual assassination of Joseph Smith, Eliza remained a committed Latter-day Saint. On June 22, 1872, she shared about her conversion with a group of women in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA: “When I heard it announced that the Lord had spoken from heaven and a record had been brought forth I was deeply interested. I prayed unto the Lord to let me know if the work were true, covenanting with him if he did so that I would ever praise his name.” After her baptism, she said, she attended Church meetings. “We were called upon to speak; I dared not refuse for I had promised God I would ever praise his name in the congregation of the Saints.”8 Her continual conversion required her continued witness.

Eliza bore her testimony over a thousand times as she traveled throughout Utah Territory to teach the Relief Society, young women, and Primary children about the Restoration. Her heart was fixed, and she invited others to experience their own conversions and become firm and steadfast.

“A call is more than an invitation or a request. It is a call from the Lord through His chosen servant. Years ago, President Spencer W. Kimball, then president of a stake in Arizona, had an experience with extending a calling. There was a vacancy in the presidency of the Young Men organization in the stake. President Kimball left his desk at the bank, walked down the street a few doors into a business, and said, ‘Jack, how would you like to be president of the Young Men in the stake?’
“Jack said, ‘Oh, Spencer, you don’t mean me.’
“He said, ‘Of course I do. You’re a young man, and you get along with young people. You’d make a very good president.’
“Then there occurred what President Kimball thought was a very disagreeable conversation because Jack turned down the call. He went back to the bank and sat at his desk, smoldering over his failure. Then it came to him. He left his desk, went down the street—same door, same man—called him by his full name, and said, ‘Last Sunday the stake presidency met to consider a vacancy in the Young Men’s presidency. We prayed about it, talked about it. Finally, on our knees we inquired about it and received the inspiration from the Lord that you should be called. As a servant of the Lord, I am here to deliver that call.’
“Jack said, ‘Well, Spencer, if you’re going to put it that way.’
“And he said, ‘I’m putting it that way.’”6

I thought about Sister Shaw’s parting testimony at an earlier sacrament meeting. “This is my last Sunday here,” she had said. “Before I leave I feel impressed to share an experience with you.”
I thought about the story Sister Shaw told.
“I felt loved and secure in my home ward,” she had said. “I had lived there all my life. When my husband and I moved here, I was terrified to attend a strange ward, and didn’t want to go for several weeks. But soon I felt a great emptiness in my life and vowed to attend the next meeting.
“I entered the church with great fear. As people went to their classes, I hoped someone would introduce himself or herself and show me the way to go. I knew I should say something to someone, but my tongue wouldn’t work. People walked by, visiting with their friends. Some even smiled at me. It wasn’t long until the doors were closed and the halls were empty. Crying in despair, I turned and left.
“That night I turned to the one person I knew I could count on: Father in Heaven. ‘Dear Father,’ I pleaded. ‘I have always been active, but I’m afraid to go to a strange ward. I can’t do it alone.’
“The next morning I opened my door to a nervous stranger who said, ‘Hello. My name is Neva Gillman. I really don’t know why I’m here, but I had the strongest impression to come by and ask if you would like to come to Relief Society with me.’
“Smiling through my tears, I invited her in.”

Stakes in the Ogden, Utah area performed a service that not only delighted thousands of visitors to Temple Square in Salt Lake City during the Christmas season, but brought joy to dozens of children in Israel. The Young Women made stuffed dolls dressed in the native costumes of nations throughout the world. The dolls were tied with wide red ribbons to Christmas trees in both the North and South Visitors’ Centers on Temple Square. Each girl researched the country her doll was to represent and tried to make the costume look as authentic as possible. She then attached a note with her name and address to the doll.
After Christmas, the dolls were transported to Israel where they were given to Arab orphans in Bethlehem. When the first doll was delivered, a small girl wearing glasses named Ikhlass received it. She clung to her new doll throughout the day, taking it with her as she played, ate, and slept.

When I accepted a mission call to the California Anaheim Mission, I had to leave one of my most prized possessions at home: my violin. Why? I wondered. Didn’t the Lord realize how much I love to play for people and how music can touch the soul?
One Sunday I felt even worse about the loss of my instrument when a woman stood up in testimony meeting and told of a spiritual experience she had had while listening to Yehudi Menuin, a world-class violinist, perform at a nearby cathedral.
My heart sank as she described in detail the priceless violin that he played, the beauty of the cathedral, and how thousands of people moved by his music jumped to a standing ovation at the close of the performance.
I could have been there, I thought bitterly. The cathedral is just down the street. I wondered where I had been as the great musician had performed—getting a door slammed in my face? Being told I was nosy by the people we tried to contact in the park? Trying to answer the questions of a skeptical Protestant Sunday school teacher who misunderstood the beauties of the gospel? I wondered where I would have been if I had had a choice.
As these regrets crowded my thoughts, I reflected on my experiences as a missionary. I remembered teaching Bob about the gospel and testifying that his family could be together forever if he would pray and take the steps needed toward baptism. I remembered feeling a burning inside as the words poured out of my mouth.
I played a beat-up, borrowed violin at Bob’s baptism. No concerto—just a well-loved Church hymn. No cathedral—just a small room crowded with Bob’s friends and family. No applause after the music ended—just an outpouring of the Holy Ghost upon those in the room. I knew this experience was of much greater worth to me.
When the woman finished bearing her testimony, I stood up and expressed to the congregation how thankful I was to be a missionary. I thanked the Lord for showing me that I must learn to be his humble instrument, not a maestro seeking applause. Little did I realize that the Lord was asking me to give up my violin in order to make me his instrument, not the player.
The words of Alma rang true to me: “I know that which the Lord hath commanded me, and I glory in it. … and this is my glory, that perhaps I may be an instrument in the hands of God to bring some soul to repentance; and this is my joy” (Alma 29:9).

At a Young Women in Excellence event in her ward, Lily was recognized for completing her Individual Worth value project. For this project, Lily participated in Special Olympics. She competed in three track-and-field events and three swimming events. She worked very hard to prepare for her competitions and learn the proper techniques.
When Lily first started learning how to throw a rubber javelin for a track-and-field event, it was a bit tricky. But Lily practiced hard, and when the day of the event came, Lily was not nervous at all because she knew just what to do. When the results came in, Lily earned the gold medal!
Lily’s participation in Special Olympics helped her learn that she can do hard things, that she can develop her talents, and that she has great worth.

Crunch, crunch, crunch. Andrew swallowed his popcorn and grabbed another handful.
His older brother, Caleb, plopped down on the couch beside him. “Hey, can I have some?”
Andrew didn’t look away from the TV. “No.”
“Aw, come on. You can share.”
Caleb reached for the bowl, but Andrew snatched it away.
“No! I already told you before. Don’t ask again!”
“Fine.” Caleb got up and left the room.
The next day, Andrew went into the kitchen. Caleb was making some sushi with rice, seaweed, and canned pork.
Andrew’s mouth watered. “Can I have some?”
“No,” Caleb said.
That made Andrew really mad. He ran downstairs to tell Dad.
“Why is Caleb being so selfish?” he asked.
Dad frowned. “I saw yesterday that you wouldn’t share your popcorn. Why should Caleb share with you after you didn’t share with him?”
“Because he’s my brother!” Andrew said.
“Then why didn’t you share with him?”
“He never shares with me either! Besides, I made it for myself, not him,” Andrew said. But he felt a little bad. Maybe it was mean of him not to share.
“Did you know that in Korea, sharing is really important?” Dad asked. Andrew’s family was from Korea. “Sharing is a way to show someone you care about them. So if you don’t share, it’s kind of like saying that you don’t care about them.”
“But I do care about Caleb.”
Andrew thought about what Jesus might do. He remembered how Jesus loved everyone—even those who were unkind to Him.
“I think I’m going to share with Caleb tomorrow and see how it turns out,” he told Dad.
Dad smiled. “I think that’s a good idea.”
When Andrew went to bed that night, he thought about other nice things he could do for Caleb. He was excited to start sharing!
The next morning, Andrew woke up to a surprise. Caleb had made breakfast just for him!
“Dad talked to me about sharing,” Caleb said. “I want to do better. So I made this for you.”
“Thanks!” Andrew said. “I want to do better too.”
Later that day, Andrew and Caleb watched a movie. Andrew let Caleb pick which one. Then he made some popcorn just for Caleb! He looked inside the bowl. It was like the popcorn was saying, “EAT ME!” But Andrew didn’t take any. He gave Caleb the bowl and said, “This is all yours. I’m sorry I didn’t share before.”
Andrew shared with Caleb all week. He let Caleb read his books. He let Caleb use his markers. He let Caleb play with his favorite toy. He even gave Caleb an extra turn when they were playing a game.
The more Andrew shared with Caleb, the more Caleb shared with him! Soon they were doing nice things for each other all the time. Andrew knew that Heavenly Father was helping him share with his brother. Andrew wasn’t perfect like Jesus, but he was trying to be more like Him every day.
This story took place in the USA.
Illustration by Adam Howling

For excitement, challenge, and diversion, a friend of mine used to hunt mountain lions in the hilltop areas of southern Utah. Among other things, this sport requires personal patience, endurance, and skill, durable horses, and dependable, well-trained dogs. To be effective in locating, cornering, or “treeing” a mountain lion, dogs must be completely dependable from the moment the hunt starts until the capture is finished.
A few years ago when I was visiting with my friend at his place of business, I noticed he had a beautiful hunting dog tied to the outside of his office building. As came close to the dog, I was impressed with his stature, markings, and color. I commented to the owner, “Isn’t he a beauty? How long have you had him?”
“I’ve raised him from a pup. He’s been trained since he was a few months old to track mountain lions. But now he’s got to go. I’m going to get rid of him. He isn’t worth his keep anymore,” he said with a firm and final conviction.
“Why do you want to sell a dog as alert and strong as this one?” I inquired.
To this query the wise owner, a veteran of many mountain lion hunts, said with emphasis, “You know, when I have spent months and months training a hunting dog for these outings, I expect, and demand, one thing. When we’re tracking lions, we’re tracking lions, and that’s it. My dogs, and I usually take about four of them, know this, and if one lets me down, he’s had it. Last time we were out on a hunt, moving into the mountain areas where the lions hide out, this dog was distracted by a jack rabbit and ran after him for more than half an hour.
“Later on the same day he was gone for about an hour chasing a deer. Both of these incidents were indulged in by this disobedient dog despite many months of tedious training. I therefore resolved that when I returned to the city he was no longer to be a member of the hunting expedition. He isn’t worth his feed. He must be sold.”
As I traveled back to Salt Lake City alone by automobile later that day, my thoughts turned to this experience with a master’s comment and decision about one of his dogs. The dog had lost his usefulness because he had forgotten his training and the purpose of the hunt. He could be distracted, diverted, and led in wrong pursuits.
Similarly in our daily lives we sometimes forget our goals and purposes and let distractions, interferences, and temptations lead us away from the charted courses we have been trained to pursue. It is to be hoped that we will stay close to our Master, heeding His teachings and avoiding situations that tend to lead us away.
Lofty standards of behavior will always be based upon a love for the right and walking in paths of righteousness. Wickedness in any form will never lead to happiness. We must be aware of those who will deceive and have us believe there is no heaven, there is no hell, and that the only road to happiness is marked with compromise, convenience, and momentary pleasures or pursuits. Satan is real, and he is effective. He would throw men down by his cunning. He would have all mankind strangers to God. Let us not be deceived. God lives, and through him and with him we can accomplish all things. We must not permit ourselves to become entangled in the sin of compromising our standards, but rather we must learn to avoid all the ways of Satan. His paths lead to disappointment, frustration, and regret.
We compromise our blessings, we rationalize ourselves out of the sure and eternal ways when we do not ask our God to help us continue in his paths. Often a disciple of God can best be identified by the paths he travels.
“If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed;
“And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” (John 8:31–32.)
The Lord has promised us that he will help us in our pursuit of happiness if we will continue the quest for righteousness and follow his paths. The abundant life will be ours if we walk with his strength. If we will remember and practice the Savior’s teachings every day, Satan can have no power over us. God’s strength makes it possible for us to walk uprightly. Ammon in his comments to his brother Aaron in the 26th chapter of Alma, verse 12 [Alma 26:12], points to paths of life that bring security and insulation from devilish desires.
“Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things; … for which we will praise his name forever.”
Our continuing pursuit of happiness will bring us our Heavenly Father’s strength and protection. In his paths we will find security. My constant prayer is that we will all have the desire in our hearts to earnestly seek the pathways of safety by honestly keeping all of his commandments.
Let us not forget the lessons learned from my friend who taught me well about what is necessary in worthy mountain lion hunting dogs and from a God who knows well his children. Let us not forget our goals and purposes, and let not distraction, interferences, or temptations lead us away from the charted courses we have been trained to pursue.

I wasn’t exactly nervous to join elders quorum because I felt like I knew what to expect. I also knew everyone in my ward’s elders quorum. They were my friends’ dads and men I already looked up to as mentors. I knew they were happy to help me understand things, so it wasn’t nerve-racking to join them in elders quorum.
What was a little nerve-racking was contributing to the lessons. At first it was hard to think that I could offer anything to men who had so much more life experience and so much more wisdom than I did.
Elders quorum is definitely different from priests quorum. Instead of a bunch of guys your age, you’re suddenly with adults. The first couple of times I went, I didn’t really say anything. I worried that I was too young and didn’t know enough to contribute.
But the more I’ve been going, the more comfortable I’ve become, and the more I’ve come to realize that no matter how old you are, everybody has something to contribute. Everyone has different experiences with the gospel and everyone has different levels of understanding of different principles.
One time we were talking about the Savior’s Atonement, and I raised my hand. I just told how thanks to His Atonement, Jesus Christ not only frees us but can also help us become closer to Himself and to God. I talked about my relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and how it has been strengthened as my understanding of the Atonement has grown. After class, a man came up to me and thanked me for my comments. He told me he had never thought about things the way I had said them and really appreciated my insight.
In elders quorum, you don’t just learn from a teacher; you also learn from the Spirit and everyone else in the quorum. All that perspective helps you gain greater insight into the things that you are taught. And that helps you be a better servant of the Lord. For example, since I’ve become an elder, I’ve started liking ministering a lot more! I think I take it a little more seriously because I know that when I’m a missionary in a few months, I’ll be visiting people and sharing the gospel with them just like I do when I minister. Instead of just sitting there and letting my companion do everything, I’ve started preparing for our visits. I make sure to speak up. I know it’s good preparation for my mission, but it has also made ministering become more meaningful to me. I now have a greater appreciation for the people in my ward and the people I minister to.
You don’t need to be intimidated by elders quorum, but you can definitely look forward to hear more wisdom about the topics you’re learning about. You can look forward to becoming a better teacher, leader, and servant of the Lord. And that is so cool!

President Spencer W. Kimball read the Bible when he was fourteen years old—all 66 books and 1,519 pages. “If I could do it by coal-oil light,” he said, “you can do it by electric light” (The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, ed. Edward L. Kimball, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1982, p. 131).
President Kimball was a very special teacher for all of us. He didn’t have a car or a bicycle, but he did have nine cows to milk every morning and night.
He said, “I thought, ‘What a waste of time, to sit on a three-legged stool. Maybe there is something else I could do while I am milking.’” He placed a copy of the Articles of Faith on the ground beside him and went through them, over and over, until he had memorized them. Then he repeated the Ten Commandments over and over until he learned them. He memorized important scriptures that would help him on his mission—all while he milked the cows. He didn’t have time to waste; he had things to do with his life (see The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, p. 131).

That difference also characterized several hundred members from the Riverton Utah North Stake, who averaged more than fifteen ordinances per family for their ancestors in the Jordan River (Utah) Temple in two days.

For the Riverton Utah North Stake, the challenge to take an ancestor to the temple came from the Jordan River Temple presidency. The stake presidency decided to use two days for the work—the youth would come on 29 December 1987 to be baptized for their ancestors, and the adults would come the following day for initiatory work, endowments, and sealings. That way, the temple would not be overly congested. The goal: that every temple recommend holder in the stake would do work for their kindred dead by the end of the year.

President Duane B. Williams says that they were actually fairly well prepared. “The main reason we were able to undertake this challenge successfully was because the stake and wards were already participating in the Church family history program. A couple were serving as stake family history specialists, and each ward had a couple as ward family history consultants. Furthermore, the ward Sunday Schools offered the family history class.”

The high priests group leaders and family history consultants attended priesthood quorum, Relief Society, and Young Men and Young Women meetings to discuss the challenge and to describe the program: how to fill out the records, when to submit them, and what the schedule would be on the stake ancestral temple days. The consultants also kept up personal contact with ward members, visiting them in their homes to help with the work.

The stake also held a family-history clinic one Saturday. The purpose was to provide hands-on experience in finding information and filling out forms.

The results were astounding. More than 160 families attended the temple on December 29 and 30. Stake members completed over 2,500 ordinances in two days—all for their kindred dead. The outpouring of the Spirit was immeasurable. Many Saints felt their ancestors’ presence during the ordinances. One woman, for example, recounted that she had felt the arm of one of her ancestors encircling her; she was nearly overwhelmed by a great outpouring of love. Many testified that they had never felt such complete peace before.

Because of the experience, many other members in the stake began to prepare to go to the temple. One bishop reported that at tithing settlement, one day after the temple excursion, two couples who had not had temple recommends for some time paid their tithing in full so they could once again attend the temple. They said they did not want to be excluded from the temple work they had heard so much about.

Everything that summer seemed to be a dream or some kind of miracle. My awareness of how much families and gospel principles mean to me came so clear one week in July. This week wasn’t a normal one for the Clarks, Carters, and Tanners. It was an unforgettable family reunion in Hawaii.
In Hawaii there are many great places to go and things to see. My fondest memory is of Diamond Head because it not only opened my eyes to the beauty of the island of Oahu, but also opened my eyes to eternal beauty.
The entire hike was a quarter of a mile long, but you’d never know it the way it seemed to stretch. When my cousins and I began the hike, all we could see was a path that seemed to last a lifetime. We reached an area where some people were stopped along the path saying, “I can’t believe we are doing this. I really see no point in going on any farther.” After I heard this, I began to doubt myself, but I still kept walking.
Next, we reached this long, dark tunnel. My cousins and I went inside. We could hardly see. The only way we could get through this dark tunnel was to hold to an iron railing. We became excited when we could see, in the distance, the end of this long tunnel. We were so happy because we thought our hike was over.
When we reached the end of the tunnel, one of my cousins screamed. There before our eyes was a flight of steps carved out of the mountain. All I could think was, I can’t believe I am actually doing this.
Then my uncle turned to me and said quietly, “I’ve been here before. I know that it is worth it.” As I walked up the steps with aching legs, I thought about his gentle words, “I know that it is worth it.”
When we finally reached the top of the crater, I was completely overwhelmed at the sight, a panoramic view of the island.
As I stood there, I thought how the hike was like our earthly lives. We begin by seeing how far we have to go to become like Christ. We are overwhelmed, but we keep going forward. At times we may listen to people say, “I don’t see the point of going farther.” Even then, we continue through the darkness holding the iron rod. We may think our trials are over, and we find we only have more challenges ahead. We press on, yielding to the words, “You can make it. It is worth it.” When we finally reach our goal, we can look back and know it was worth it.
Since hiking Diamond Head, I have realized our challenges can make us stronger. I have since centered my goals around more spiritual things, such as attending early-morning seminary every day. We can all succeed if we have the faith and courage to keep going through the hard times in our lives.

The Lord’s hand guides this work, and the experience of Vumilia Tambwe illustrates that. She was home in September 2016 when two sister missionaries knocked on her door. Vumilia had immigrated to the United States five years earlier from the Democratic Republic of the Congo by way of Kenya. She kindly visited with the sisters but was not interested in their message.
Later that evening, the sisters went to the home of a member family for dinner who had recently become a host family for refugees. Because of the language difference, the refugee family and host family couldn’t communicate with each other. The refugee family had rashes all over their bodies, and the host family didn’t know how to help them. When they told the sister missionaries about the problem, the sisters told the member family that they had just met a woman named Vumilia who spoke both Swahili and English. The missionaries went back to get her help. Vumilia learned that the rashes were caused because the family had mistakenly been using shaving cream as lotion.
The host family and Vumilia became great friends, and they threw a citizenship party for Vumilia in January 2017. Vumilia began her journey toward becoming a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints because of the true friendship she experienced from members of the Church.

“A few years ago, I was in line to make a purchase at my local grocery store. Ahead of me stood a young woman, about 15 years old. She appeared confident and happy. I noticed her T-shirt and couldn’t resist talking to her. I began, ‘You’re from out of state, aren’t you?’
“She was surprised by my question and replied, ‘Yes, I am. I’m from Colorado. How did you know?’
“I explained, ‘Because of your T-shirt.’ I made my accurate supposition after reading the words on her shirt, ‘I’m a Mormon. Are you?’
“I continued, ‘I must tell you that I’m impressed by your confidence to stand out and wear such a bold declaration. I see a difference in you, and I wish every young woman and every member of the Church could have your same conviction and confidence.’ Our purchases completed, we said good-bye and parted.
“Yet for days and weeks after this random everyday moment, I found myself seriously reflecting upon this encounter. … I couldn’t help but wonder what meaningful phrase I would figuratively choose to have printed on my T-shirt reflecting my belief and testimony. … Eventually, I came upon an ideal statement I would proudly wear: ‘I’m a Mormon. I know it. I live it. I love it.’ ”
Sister Ann M. Dibb, second counselor in the Young Women general presidency