Gospel Story Finder

We went on a boat. A money machine there was stuck. A woman said, “Why did the machine give me one euro (about 88¢) when I was supposed to get 20 marks (about $2.96)?” A man told her to look for the code on the left, but the woman couldn’t find it.
I looked for it and found it. The woman didn’t tell me thank you. I thought, “What a silly woman!” But then I thought about what I was thinking and was sorry. I prayed and said, “Heavenly Father, I am sorry for what I was thinking, so I am apologizing. I am very, very sorry about it.”

Even over the loud cheers, Jacob could hear Coach Vance’s directions.
“Stop! Look! Go left … score!” Coach Vance yelled, guiding Jacob to score the winning shot of their final soccer game.
Jacob’s team had won the championship, and that meant only one thing: pizza party!
The whole team headed over to Coach Vance’s condo for the big celebration. Many of the boys congratulated Jacob on his winning goal. Jacob felt like the guest of honor! He didn’t have many friends in this new town, and he was eager to feel accepted.
As they waited for the pizza to arrive, some of Jacob’s teammates began looking through Coach Vance’s magazines. The boys started snickering. They called Jacob over to look too, but Jacob immediately felt uncomfortable with the pictures they showed him.
He saw pictures of adults drinking bad drinks and smoking and women dressed immodestly. Jacob was confused and disappointed. He thought Coach Vance was perfect!
Jacob knew that looking at bad pictures was wrong. He didn’t want to look, but he didn’t want the other boys to tease him. He pretended to be interested, but he felt sick inside.
Suddenly, Jacob had a strong feeling he shouldn’t look at the pictures. It was as though someone was telling him to stop.
“Stop now,” Jacob felt again.
“Stop now, Jacob!”
Suddenly Jacob recognized the feeling: it was the Holy Ghost.
As the boys continued to look through the magazines, Jacob felt the Holy Ghost tell him even more clearly to leave. The more he listened, the better he could hear the voice.
Jacob said to his teammates, “Guys, I don’t think we should be looking at these.” Then he left Coach Vance’s home.
As Jacob walked home carrying his heavy trophy in his backpack, he thought about how heavy and uncomfortable it must be to carry sins around. He decided it was definitely easier and lighter to live a clean life. He decided right then to never look at bad pictures again. Jacob knew that the Holy Ghost was the best coach he could have to help him choose the right.

In a recent Sunday Relief Society meeting, I listened to a young mother share part of her journey of conversion. She had grown up in the Church, with parents who taught her the gospel. She attended Primary, Young Women, and seminary. She loved to learn and discover truths. Her constant quest was to know why. Elder Russell M. Nelson has said, “The Lord can only teach an inquiring mind.” And this young woman was teachable.

After high school she attended a university, was sealed in the temple to a returned missionary, and was blessed with beautiful children.

With the spirit of inquiry, this mother continued to ask questions. But as the questions grew harder, so did the answers. And sometimes there were no answers—or no answers that brought peace. Eventually, as she sought to find answers, more and more questions arose, and she began to question some of the very foundations of her faith.

During this confusing time, some of those around her said, “Just lean on my faith.” But she thought, “I can’t. You don’t understand; you’re not grappling with these issues.” She explained, “I was willing to extend courtesy to those without doubts if they would extend courtesy to me.” And many did.

She said, “My parents knew my heart and allowed me space. They chose to love me while I was trying to figure it out for myself.” Likewise, this young mother’s bishop often met with her and spoke of his confidence in her.

Ward members also did not hesitate to give love, and she felt included. Her ward was not a place to put on a perfect face; it was a place of nurture.

“It was interesting,” she remembers. “During this time I felt a real connection to my grandparents who had died. They were pulling for me and urging me to keep trying. I felt they were saying, ‘Focus on what you know.’”

In spite of her substantial support system, she became less active. She said, “I did not separate myself from the Church because of bad behavior, spiritual apathy, looking for an excuse not to live the commandments, or searching for an easy out. I felt I needed the answer to the question ‘What do I really believe?’”

About this time she read a book of the writings of Mother Teresa, who had shared similar feelings. In a 1953 letter, Mother Teresa wrote: “Please pray specially for me that I may not spoil His work and that Our Lord may show Himself—for there is such terrible darkness within me, as if everything was dead. It has been like this more or less from the time I started ‘the work.’ Ask Our Lord to give me courage.”

Archbishop Périer responded: “God guides you, dear Mother; you are not so much in the dark as you think. The path to be followed may not always be clear at once. Pray for light; do not decide too quickly, listen to what others have to say, consider their reasons. You will always find something to help you. … Guided by faith, by prayer, and by reason with a right intention, you have enough.”

My friend thought if Mother Teresa could live her religion without all the answers and without a feeling of clarity in all things, maybe she could too. She could take one simple step forward in faith—and then another. She could focus on the truths she did believe and let those truths fill her mind and heart.

As she reflected back, she said, “My testimony had become like a pile of ashes. It had all burned down. All that remained was Jesus Christ.” She continued, “But He does not leave you when you have questions. When anyone tries to keep the commandments, the door is wide open. Prayer and scripture study became incredibly important.”

Her first step to rebuild her faith was to start with basic gospel truths. She bought a Primary songbook and began reading the words of the songs. They were treasures to her. She prayed for faith to lift the heaviness she felt.

She learned that when she came up against a statement that caused her to doubt, she “could stop, look at the whole picture, and make the gospel personal.” She said, “I would ask, ‘Is this the right path for me and my family?’ Sometimes I would ask myself, ‘What do I want for my children?’ I realized I want them to have temple marriages. That’s when belief came back to my heart.”

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland has said, “Humility, faith, and the influence of the Holy Spirit [will] always be elements of every quest for truth.”

Though she had questions about how the Book of Mormon came to be, she could not deny the truths she knew in the Book of Mormon. She had focused on studying the New Testament to better understand the Savior. “But eventually,” she said, “I found myself back in the Book of Mormon because I loved what I felt when reading about Jesus Christ and His Atonement.”

She concluded, “You have to have your own spiritual experiences with the truths in that book,” and she was having them. She explained, “I read in Mosiah and felt completely directed: ‘Believe in God; believe that he is, and that he created all things … ; believe that he has all wisdom, and all power, both in heaven and in earth; believe that man doth not comprehend all the things which the Lord can comprehend.’”

About this time a call came to serve as Primary pianist. “It was safe,” she said. “I wanted to have my children in Primary, and now I could be with them. And I wasn’t ready to teach yet.” As she served, she continued to feel from those around her the invitation “Come; we want you, whatever stage you are at, and we will meet you there. Give us whatever you have to offer.”

Playing the Primary songs, she often thought to herself, “Here are truths I love. I can still bear testimony. I will just say those things that I know and trust. It may not be a perfect offering of knowledge, but it will be my offering. What I focus on expands inside of me. It is beautiful to get back to the essence of the gospel and feel clarity.”

On that Sunday morning, as I listened to this young sister share the story of her journey, I was reminded that “it is upon the rock of our Redeemer” that we all must build our foundation. I was also reminded of the counsel of Elder Jeffrey R. Holland: “Hold fast to what you already know and stand strong until additional knowledge comes.”

It was my experience as a small boy to come under the influence of such a teacher. In our Sunday School class, she taught us concerning the Creation of the world, the Fall of Adam, and the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ.
One Sunday morning she announced sadly to us the death of a classmate’s mother. We had missed Billy that morning but knew not the reason for his absence. The lesson featured the theme, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” Midway through the lesson, our teacher closed the manual and asked, “How much money do we have in our class party fund?”
Depression days prompted a proud answer: “Four dollars and seventy-five cents.”
Then she suggested, “Billy’s family is hard-pressed and grief-stricken. What would you think of the possibility of visiting the family members this morning and giving to them your fund?”
Ever shall I remember the tiny band walking those three city blocks, entering Billy’s home, greeting him, his brother, sisters, and father. Tears glistened in the eyes of all as the white envelope containing our precious party fund passed from the hand of our teacher to the hand of a grief-stricken father. We fairly skipped our way back to the chapel. Our hearts were lighter than they had ever been, our joy more full, our understanding more profound. A God-inspired teacher had taught her boys and girls an eternal lesson of divine truth: “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”

One of my favorite activities as a priesthood leader is visiting members of the Church in their homes. I especially enjoy calling upon and talking with members who commonly are described as “less active.”

During the years I served as a stake president, I often would contact one of the bishops and invite him to prayerfully identify individuals or families we could visit together. Before traveling to a home, the bishop and I would kneel and petition our Heavenly Father for guidance and inspiration, for us and for the members with whom we would meet.

Our visits were quite straightforward. We expressed love and appreciation for the opportunity to be in their home. We affirmed that we were servants of the Lord on His errand to their home. We indicated that we missed and needed them—and that they needed the blessings of the restored gospel. And at some point early in our conversation I often would ask a question like this: “Will you please help us understand why you are not actively participating in the blessings and programs of the Church?”

I made hundreds and hundreds of such visits. Each individual, each family, each home, and each answer was different. Over the years, however, I detected a common theme in many of the answers to my questions. Frequently responses like these were given:
“Several years ago a man said something in Sunday School that offended me, and I have not been back since.”
“No one in this branch greeted or reached out to me. I felt like an outsider. I was hurt by the unfriendliness of this branch.”
“I did not agree with the counsel the bishop gave me. I will not step foot in that building again as long as he is serving in that position.”
Many other causes of offense were cited—from doctrinal differences among adults to taunting, teasing, and excluding by youth. But the recurring theme was, “I was offended by …”

The bishop and I would listen intently and sincerely. One of us might next ask about their conversion to and testimony of the restored gospel. As we talked, eyes often were moist with tears as these good people recalled the confirming witness of the Holy Ghost and described their prior spiritual experiences. Most of the “less-active” people I have ever visited had a discernible and tender testimony of the truthfulness of the restored gospel. However, they were not presently participating in Church activities and meetings.

And then I would say something like this: “Let me make sure I understand what has happened to you. Because someone at church offended you, you have not been blessed by the ordinance of the sacrament. You have withdrawn yourself from the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost. Because someone at church offended you, you have cut yourself off from priesthood ordinances and the holy temple. You have discontinued your opportunity to serve others and to learn and grow. And you are leaving barriers that will impede the spiritual progress of your children, your children’s children, and the generations that will follow.” Many times people would think for a moment and then respond, “I have never thought about it that way.”

The bishop and I would then extend an invitation: “Dear friend, we are here today to counsel you that the time to stop being offended is now. Not only do we need you, but you need the blessings of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. Please come back—now.”

Many years ago I stood by the bedside of a young man, the father of two children, as he hovered between life and the great beyond. He took my hand in his, looked into my eyes, and pleadingly asked, “Bishop, I know I am about to die. Tell me what happens to my spirit when I die.”
I prayed for heavenly guidance. My attention was directed to the Book of Mormon on the table beside his bed. I began to read aloud:
“Now, concerning the state of the soul between death and the resurrection—… the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, … are taken home to that God who gave them life.
“… The spirits of those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow” (Alma 40:11–12).
My young friend closed his eyes, expressed a sincere thank you, and silently slipped away to that paradise about which we had spoken.

It wasn’t enough for institute students in Manila, Philippines, to just learn the gospel—they wanted to share it. So they put together a musical show, emphasizing the scriptures and education, that was designed to help parents and youth apply gospel principles in their lives.
The students gave up their free time to rehearse and perform. But they said it was worth it to see the audience reaction—some were moved to tears. The group toured Metro Manila and the nearby provinces with their variety show. “All our efforts were rewarded by the wonderful feelings we’ve had,” said one participant.

I know a young man who was thrilled to be selected for an all-star basketball team to play in a tournament in another state. The first evening at the hotel, the other roommates decided to watch pornographic movies. This boy left the room and walked the city by himself well into the night until the movies were over. I am sure it was embarrassing, lonely, and challenging. But that is courage; that is manhood in its truest sense. And I say, “Behold a man!”—an 18-year-old boy turned man. I know hundreds of young men who have withstood ridicule and embarrassment to turn down drugs, alcohol, and illicit sex in order to turn to serve one another, provide a righteous example, or defend the principles of righteousness. All young men must face the wiles of Satan. It is impossible to escape this fight. But it is always possible to come out victorious. Yes, a true man is strong enough to withstand the wiles of Satan.

One mother reinforced these points in a family home evening lesson. She began by showing a picture of the Salt Lake Temple and one of a gambling casino. The family discussed how architects strive to harmonize form and function as they design buildings. They noticed how the towering spires of the Salt Lake Temple lead the eye upward toward the heavens, inviting reverence and awe. “I explained that the temple’s outer dignity and grandeur accurately reflect the sacred purpose of the building—to lead us toward God,” the mother says.

Then the family discussed how the casino’s exterior reflects the purpose of that building. “We could see how the gaudiness of that building indicates excess. It beckons people to seek worldly pleasures,” this mother continues. The family talked about how building materials, colors, and design all contribute to the overall purpose of a building.

“When I held up pictures of a person in modest clothing and one in immodest clothing, our children immediately made the connection that clothing can reflect the purpose of a person,” she explains. The family could see that immodest clothing draws attention to the body of the person wearing it. They could also see that modest clothing allows the spirit of the person wearing it to radiate. “We ended by discussing how the way we dress can either contribute to or detract from our divine purpose as children of God,” she concludes. “I challenged our family to make sure that the way we dress accurately reflects who we really are and what we are about.”

“Missionary work?” Sue Ann Yazzie, a 17-year-old Navaho from Shiprock, New Mexico, brushed long, black hair from her shoulders and smiled. Her warm, brown eyes sparkling, she said, “The best way to get someone interested in the Church is to be friends with him.”
A member of the Church for two years, Sue Ann talked about her conversion: “Even before I joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I believed that when we die we will be able to see friends and relatives who have died before us. I lost faith in the church I was attending when the minister said, ‘If you think you will be able to see your dead ancestors when you die, you’re mistaken.’ It was then that I asked the Lord which church was true. I promised I would keep the commandments if he would help me.”
Sue Ann wanted to attend high school off the reservation. When she was asked to participate in the Indian education program in Richfield, Utah, she accepted. In Richfield the Indian students live in a dormitory and attend local schools.
When one of the employees in the dormitory invited Sue Ann and several of her friends to a family home evening, she wasn’t really interested. “At the time I wasn’t sure if I liked the Mormon church. I didn’t know very much about it. But I went just to keep my friends company. That was when I first became interested in the Church. I liked what I heard.
“Later, when I read the Book of Mormon, many of the parts seemed familiar. When I was younger my grandmother told me many of the Navaho legends. It was from her that I first heard the story of the great white god, who will one day return,” she said.
Sue Ann wants to share the gospel with as many people as she can. Recently a friend of hers, Elouise Meyers, finished the missionary discussions and was baptized. Sue Ann explained, “I had an appointment with my bishop and decided to take a buddy with me. I took Elouise. I knew she didn’t know much about the Church. While we were waiting for the bishop, the missionaries walked by. I asked them if they were teaching anyone that night. They answered, ‘No.’ ‘Well,’ I said. ‘Why don’t you teach my friend?’ They set up an appointment.”
For David Wojnar, 22, from Springfield, Massachusetts, a good friendship played an important role in his conversion to the Church. Now a missionary serving in the Utah Salt Lake Mission, Elder Wojnar talked about the role of friendship in missionary work.
“When I graduated from high school, I decided it was time to move away from home. I got a job in Virginia and moved in with an old friend. One of my roommates was a Latter-day Saint. We soon became good friends. We did things together, and we could talk about anything. He had a sincere interest in me. We were friends first, and being friends probably helped more than anything else,” Elder Wojnar explained.
“Eventually he asked me to go to a young adult activity with him. They were putting on a play. The young people came up and made me feel welcome. They all were excited about meeting someone new,” Elder Wojnar said. “They were different from anybody I had run around with before. There was a different spirit.
“When I became involved in the activities and started attending church, the members made me feel special and important. They never put me down because I was a member of another church.”
At that time, Elder Wojnar still wasn’t ready to commit himself to baptism. “My other roommate, my friend from Massachusetts, was taking the discussions and was almost ready for baptism. When the missionaries came, I always found an excuse to leave. Most of the barriers I had were just fear and not knowing what would happen. I was determined to serve the Lord, and I just needed time. No one seemed excited or upset about the hesitancy that I was experiencing. My friend was patient and didn’t give up on me. He was still my friend, and eventually I did make the commitment,” Elder Wojnar said.
“Being sincere is one of the most important aspects of missionary work,” Elder Wojnar explained. “If you’re sincere and a true friend, people will respond to the gospel. It’s not as important for members to teach the doctrines as it is for them to plant the seed. Being a good example is also important. It means more than just living the principles. It means going out and showing the results of living the gospel. Don’t be afraid to let people know you’re a Mormon. I’m tickled pink whenever I can tell anybody I’m a Mormon,” Elder Wojnar concluded.
Patience is an important part of missionary work. Both Cindy, 15, and her sister, Tina Doxstater, 14, were involved in Church activities for two years before they were baptized. Cindy explained that she was impressed by the closeness of Mormon families and by the Church activities that her friends took her to. But she wasn’t ready or sure about making a commitment.
“The members of the Church accepted us for what we were,” she said. “They didn’t push, and that helped.” Cindy’s friends didn’t give up on her. When one of them said, “Why don’t you take the missionary discussions?” She said, “Yes.” With the encouragement of their friends and a science teacher at school, Cindy and Tina were baptized this year. The science teacher, Larry Anderson, baptized them.
Violet Wilson, 18, from Kellogg, Idaho, had also been involved in Church activities for several years before she joined. She said that an important influence in her joining was the members making her feel like she was one of them.
Cragg Rogers, 21, from San Diego, California, was first introduced to the Church when his parents gave him a survival trip for a graduation present. There were 37 Mormons and three non-Mormons enrolled in the program. They spent 28 days in a southern Utah desert.
“It was really a spiritual trip,” Cragg recalled. “From the first I noticed there was something different about the Mormons. Whenever we came up against hard circumstances, they would pray about it. We were out in the middle of the desert, with almost no food or water, and they held church on Sundays. They even had me give a talk, if you can believe it. In the general misery of a survival trip, everyone helped each other. There were no airs. That survival trip turned my whole life around,” Cragg said.
It was two years after that first introduction to the Church before Cragg finally joined. The spirit of the LDS friends Cragg had made on the survival trip left a deep impression.
“The spirit I felt on that trip was on my mind, and I couldn’t get rid of it,” Cragg said, smiling. “I finally decided to get into it and really find out what it was about. The members were more than willing to help.”
Referring to missionary work, Cragg said, “The best way to influence someone is to live what you believe. Be yourself and don’t try to be what you think someone else would like you to be. Those people who lived the way they should brought me into the Church. I’m grateful for them. I hope I can do the same. I may get turned down 40 times when trying to interest someone in the gospel, but the one success makes it more than worthwhile. I’m sure the people who helped me were also turned down many times,” Cragg concluded.
Being a true friend, having respect for other people’s values and beliefs, exercising patience, being yourself, setting an example, and avoiding forming member cliques that shut out or look down upon nonmembers are some of the important techniques these recent converts recommend in member-missionary work.
Sue Ann Yazzie said something else that applies to missionary work: “Missionary work? My advice is to get busy.”

Willie turned the corner and hurried on to the store. Just as he opened the door, Mrs. Johnson and her four-year-old twins, Mary and Kerry, came out.
“Now, Kerry, please stop that!” Mrs. Johnson was saying. “And, Mary, you can hold your treat in a minute.” Mrs. Johnson was trying to balance two full bags of groceries and keep track of her squabbling children.
“But I want to hold the treat!” Kerry wailed.
“No! I want to!” Mary wailed back.
“Hi, Mrs. Johnson,” Willie said brightly. “Need some help?”
“Oh, yes, Willie, please,” Mrs. Johnson said desperately. Willie took a hand of each girl and followed Mrs. Johnson to her car. A relieved Mrs. Johnson set down the groceries.
“I want to hold it now!” Mary yelled again.
“It’s still my turn!” Kerry yelled back. A small sack containing cookies from the bakery was in danger of being torn apart by the quarreling girls. Suddenly Willie had an idea.
“Wait a minute! Just hold the sack still,” he told them.
The girls stopped their tug-of-war and watched Willie reach in his “good for something” bag.
“What’s in there?” Kerry asked.
“You’ll see.” Willie smiled at her. Pulling his hand out of the green velvet bag, he showed the girls the brown lunch sack. “This will make things easier.” He took the treat bag from Kerry, put one of the cookies from it into the brown lunch sack, then handed a sack to each girl. Both smiled happily.
“Thank you, Willie,” Mrs. Johnson said gratefully. “That was a good idea!”
“Well, you never know when something will come in handy from my ‘good for something’ bag.”

The United States Navy’s Officer Candidate School (OCS) is an intense 13 weeks of training for college graduates who want to become naval officers. The first week is especially difficult—seven days with a Marine drill instructor whose job it is to indoctrinate his new class with military discipline and attention to detail. During the training, the Navy’s core values of honor, courage, and commitment are taught and emphasized.
My class drill instructor, Gunnery Sergeant Cagle, stressed to us the importance of honesty and integrity. The consequence of making a mistake was a powerful chewing out—packed with choice words—by Cagle and a “mashing session” consisting of extra push-ups, jumping jacks, leg lifts, and eight-count bodybuilders. Often he would test us by putting us in situations in which we would have to stand up and admit that we had made a mistake just to see how we would act. If someone confessed, his punishment was usually reduced significantly. Still, no one wanted to stand out and draw more attention to themselves than was necessary.
Having been forewarned about what to expect at OCS, I was a little worried about being able to mentally and emotionally handle it. And knowing that many of my classmates probably would not have the same standards as mine regarding drinking, entertainment, and other distractions, I worried that I would not have the strength to stand up for my beliefs under pressure. So, as part of my preparation to enter OCS, I prayed and fasted for strength and asked for a blessing that everything would work out okay. I determined how I would react and what I would do if I found myself in a situation where I would have to defend my beliefs. Still, those drill instructors sounded pretty intimidating.
An opportunity to stand up soon came. Gunnery Sergeant Cagle had all my classmates packed into one of our rooms to show us how we were to fold our clothes and store them in our wall lockers for an upcoming inspection. He started his explanation, mixing it with a few colorful metaphors. At one point he stopped and asked if there were any of us who had not seen an R-rated movie. I almost didn’t raise my hand for fear of standing out, but I remembered what he had said about being honest as well as the commitment I had made to myself to stand up for what I believed. Much to the disbelief of Cagle and the rest of my class, I raised my hand. He stared at me for a minute then asked if I really hadn’t seen an R-rated movie. I answered again that I hadn’t. He told me he would talk to me later, then continued to justify his language to the class.
After he dismissed us for the evening, he pulled me aside and again asked me, in disbelief, if I really had never seen an R-rated movie. For the third time I told him, “No.” He then asked me if I found his language offensive. Taking a deep breath, I told him that, yes, I did find it offensive—a bold answer to my drill sergeant, but one worth any retribution I might receive.
My response caused him to pause again. He asked if I minded if he used that language as long as it was never specifically aimed at me. Again I told him, “Sir, I do mind, and I would prefer it if you would not use that kind of language. However, it is your choice, and I understand that some of it may come with your job.”
I guess he was taken aback, but he let me go. Later that night, and even for a couple of days after, my classmates would ask me what had happened. They told me they didn’t really like Cagle’s language either. They told me I was brave, then asked why I didn’t watch R-rated movies. Their curiosity gave me the chance to tell them about what I believed and about the Church.
Later in the course, we were reminiscing with Cagle, and someone asked him if anybody had ever answered his R-rated question like I had. He looked at me and replied that I was the first, and that I had totally taken him by surprise.
By the end of OCS, my classmates humorously dubbed me “rated-R.” Many of them were even more cautious about swearing in front of me. Because I stood up for my beliefs, I feel I earned the respect of not only my classmates but also my drill instructor.
I am grateful for the strength I felt from the Lord. I am also grateful I decided ahead of time what I would do if I had the choice to say nothing or stand up for my beliefs. I do know the Lord watches out for us and even turns sticky situations into missionary opportunities.

After joining the Church, her daily life was surrounded by home, school and Church activities. A few years after joining the Church, her father had a massive stroke which left half of his body paralyzed and he lost his voice of speech.
This incident did not allow Sabita and her sister to have much freedom in life anymore. They had many dreams but were obliged to work for the family while their mother attended to their father’s needs and the household, not forgetting their two little brothers who were still attending school.
Sometime after this incident, their branch president approached both sisters and asked if they would be willing to serve missions for the Church. They couldn’t readily say yes because of their circumstances. As they went home, they discussed with each other regarding this opportunity. Usha offered to stay home and work for the family to allow Sabita to serve a mission.
She was very happy for what her sister had said, but was also worried, thinking that Usha would be alone to meet the family expenses with her meagre salary. Their mother was not happy with this. As the news spread to their relatives, one of their first questions was, “What’s in it for you?
As Sabita was struggling to decide what to do, she happened to receive the answer through one of her regular institute classes. Her teacher quoted President Thomas S. Monson (1927–2018), “Do your duty; that is best; Leave unto the Lord the rest!”1
Sabita immediately decided to leave home to serve the Lord as a full-time missionary and was called to serve in the India Bangalore Mission in 2002. She said, “My family was taken care of. Miracles happened. The one and a half years that I served the Lord selflessly has been a lifetime experience of mine.”

You may remember the sweet experience shared by President Romney, who had been reading the Book of Mormon with his son. He related: “I remember reading it with one of my lads when he was very young. … We were each reading aloud alternate paragraphs of those last three marvelous chapters of Second Nephi. I heard his voice breaking and thought he had a cold, but we went on to the end of the three chapters. As we finished he said to me, ‘Daddy, do you ever cry when you read the Book of Mormon?’

“‘Yes, son,’ I answered. ‘Sometimes the spirit of the Lord so witnesses to my soul that the Book of Mormon is true that I do cry.’

“‘Well,’ he said, ‘that is what happened to me tonight.’” (In Conference Report, Apr. 1949, p. 41.)

In October 1984, I was working as a quality control supervisor for a paper mill in Orani, Bataan, Philippines. Like most paper mills, ours recycled waste paper. One day, the book Meet the Mormons was included in a load of magazines. I got curious, took it into my office, and started reading it. I learned about Joseph Smith and his vision, and I readily accepted that God would reveal himself to a boy. I did not understand the section on the priesthood hierarchy, but I liked the Relief Society section. I read the book several times.
For many months, I had been trying to find more meaning in life. I had always been an active Catholic, and had even attended several meetings to become a Franciscan nun. Still, I felt like a piece of wood drifting in the ocean.
Two weeks later, I was inspecting the raw material in one of the delivery trucks when I noticed a blue book. It was the Book of Mormon! I asked the driver if I could have it. I took it back to my office and started reading. Inside the front cover were the steps of prayer. “Maybe I should try praying this way,” I told myself. It also listed the pages that told of Christ’s visit to America. I eagerly turned to those pages. Here were the Beatitudes and other teachings Jesus gave to the Jews! Were these chapters not copied from the New Testament? Then I realized that he was the very same Christ. Surely he would give the same teachings. I wondered if Christ might have come to the Philippines, too. I turned to 1 Nephi. Who were Lehi, Nephi, and Laman? They were such strange names. I treasured both books.

This summer I had the unforgettable experience of camping with twenty-six hundred of these wonderful Aaronic Priesthood Young Men and their leaders. Amid a colorful array of tents and Boy Scout uniforms, the encampment took the shape of a giant twelve-spoked wheel. Each spoke housed one of Israel’s twelve “tribes.” The six days of camping at the Florida Deseret Ranch provided camping skills, special demonstrations, tests of physical fitness, inspirational programs, and numerous other activities (not to mention consumption of fifty-eight hundred gallons of milk, sixty-three thousand pounds of ice, one thousand cases of soft drinks, and one and one-half tons of bread). The young men and their priesthood leaders participated together, focusing upon priesthood objectives.
On the first evening at dusk, with each “tribe” in place, all of “Israel” marched to an arena for the opening campfire. The golden rays of sunset formed a magnificent backdrop for the mile-long line of young men as they marched two abreast toward the arena. With colorful banners held aloft, the modern-day sons of Israel passed beneath an archway emblazoned with the Scout Promise: “On My Honor.” Sentries stood holding torch-lighted signs inscribed with the Scout Oath and Law and Aaronic Priesthood objectives. As the priesthood leaders led their young men past these sentries, it was anticipated that each young man would make a personal commitment to strive daily toward eternal life, to be a worthy priesthood bearer, worthy to serve a mission; worthy to marry in the temple.
The decisions made that night were followed up during the next four days by special “mountaintop” experiences. The leaders of ancient Israel often went to a designated mountaintop to receive special instruction from the Lord. It was planned that these “Israelite” priesthood bearers would prepare themselves to come to especially designated locations at the encampment where they might receive spiritual guidance and counsel. Here they learned that, having committed themselves to live the basic principles of the gospel, they had also committed themselves to make other important decisions regarding such things as being morally clean, being honest in word and deed, keeping the Word of Wisdom, and so forth.
These are some of the “certain things” to which President Kimball referred in a recent conference address:
“We hope we can help our young men and young women to realize, even sooner than they do now, that they need to make certain decisions only once. … We can push some things away from us once and have done with them! We can make a single decision about certain things that we will incorporate in our lives and then make them ours—without having to brood and redecide a hundred times what it is we will do and what we will not do.
“… My young brothers, if you have not done so yet, decide to decide!” (Ensign, May 1976, p. 46; italics added.)
You can do it, my young brethren. You can become the men of righteousness and stature that your dreams and ambitions hold up before you. To accomplish this objective, you need to make some important decisions now, early in your life. This is the time to decide to decide!
First, decide to set goals. In his same conference address, President Kimball said:
“It is most appropriate for Aaronic Priesthood youth, as well as Melchizedek Priesthood men [and I would add, the women of the Church], to quietly, and with determination, set some serious personal goals in which they will seek to improve by selecting certain things that they will accomplish within a specified period of time.” (Ensign, May 1976, p. 46).
A friend of mine helped his son set goals in this manner. Don asked his son what he wanted to be, whom he would want to be like. His son named a member of the ward who lived nearby, a man he had admired for some time. Don drove his son to where the man lived.
As they sat in their automobile in front of his home, they observed the man’s possessions and his way of life. They also discussed his kindness and generosity, his good name and integrity. They discussed the price their neighbor had paid to become what he was: the years of hard work, the schooling and training required, the sacrifices made, the challenges encountered. The affluence and seeming ease with which he now lived had come about as the result of diligent toil toward his righteous goals and the blessings of the Lord.
The son selected other men whom he deemed models of successful and righteous living and learned from a wise father the stories of their lives. Thereupon at an early age he set his own goal of what he wanted to become. And with his goal before him as a guide by which to make other decisions along the way, he was prepared to stay on his chosen course.
Next, decide to work. Work is necessary if you are to reach your goal. J. Paul Getty, considered to be at one time one of the world’s wealthiest men, gave this formula for success: “Rise early, work late, and strike oil!” Mr. Getty has also made the thought-provoking comment that “it is possible for a man to get on a train that goes 60 miles per hour and say to himself, ‘I am going 60 miles per hour.’ But it is not true. Unless he is moving ahead on his own power, he is standing still.” (J. Paul Getty, Reader’s Digest, Sept. 1980, p. 94.)
Isaac Stern, the world-famous musician-violinist, was asked by a television talk show host at what point in his life he determined to devote his energies toward a career as a concert violinist. Mr. Stern told of having given his first concert in San Francisco at a young age. Music critics were extremely impressed and predicted a fine future for the promising young talent. With this encouragement, Isaac Stern began preparations for another concert a year later in New York City. The critics were not so kind to him there. It would require a tremendous amount of work, they judged, if Isaac Stern were to achieve success as a soloist.
Dejected and discouraged, the young Mr. Stern boarded one of New York City’s double-decker buses and rode it up and down Manhattan a number of times. He was, in his words, “crying inside” as he tried to decide where he was going from there. Were his critics correct? Had he gone as far as he was capable of going? Should he now seek a profession as just another member of an orchestra?
After his fourth bus ride through the city, he returned to his apartment where his mother was waiting. He had made his decision. “I am going to work, mother—work at my music until it works for me.” Today Isaac Stern is acclaimed as one of the finest violinists in the world. Work is a principle with a blessing. Work builds us physically and spiritually. It increases both our strength of body and our strength of character.
A basketball coach claimed, “If you find a man on top of a mountain, he didn’t fall there.” If you and I are to reach the summit of our divine potential, we must work each step of the way. The path may be rugged, difficult, unheralded; but it can be successfully climbed if we are willing to work with all our strength and commitment.
Next, decide to believe. Believe in God. Believe in yourself. Believe that God is very interested in you as an individual, that he is anxious for you to succeed. He has provided in the gospel of his Son Jesus Christ the sure pattern for ultimate success.
When our lives are consistent with his gospel, we receive confidence through his Spirit to meet the challenges of each day. We can say with Nephi: “The Lord is able to do all things according to his will, for the children of men, if it so be that they exercise faith in him. … Wherefore, let us be faithful to him.” (1 Ne. 7:12.)
The Prophet Joseph Smith’s belief in God, his faith in God’s interest in him, gave him the courage and optimism to say:
“Never get discouraged, whatever difficulties might surround [you]. If [you were] sunk in the lowest pit of Nova Scotia, and all the Rocky Mountains piled on top of [you], [you] ought not to be discouraged, but hang on, exercise faith and keep up good courage and [you] should come out on top of the heap.” (George A. Smith’s journal, quoted by Preston Nibley, in Church Section, 12 Mar. 1950, p. 16.)
You, our beloved young men and women, are in the most critical period of life. Youth is the time when habits are formed, when ideas are adopted. It is the time of decision. Decide today to heed these words of our prophet: “Decide to decide!”
Decide to make decisions about certain things once—those things will push from you that might otherwise destroy you—and decide about other things that you will incorporate into your life, things that will bring you eternal happiness. Decide to set goals which are consistent with your divine destiny. Decide to believe in God, who created you. Decide to believe in yourself, that you truly can reach goals—your goals. Decide to work. You can be successful in any righteous endeavor when you are willing to work under the guiding hand of the Lord.
May we all make our decisions in the favorable light of the gospel of Jesus Christ, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

In the jungles of Indonesia dwells a tiny member of the deer family called a mouse deer. Its Indonesian name is Kancil (CAN-chill). Because it is so tiny—no higher than two or three feet—and because it provides a delicious snack for such jungle inhabitants as the tiger, crocodile, or panther, it has to rely on its intelligence to outsmart these large predators in order to survive.
One afternoon while ambling down a jungle trail to the river Ciliwong (CHEE-lee-wong) to quench her thirst, Kancil overheard two crocodiles talking quietly together.
“Wait here, my darling,” Buaya (crocodile) whispered with clacking jaws. “When Kancil comes down to drink, I’ll grab her and we’ll share a tender snack. Just wait and see how I trick her.”
Buaya’s girl friend floated on the Ciliwong, her beady eyes and nostrils barely above the water. She was terribly hungry and could hardly wait for her snack.
Buaya waddled up onto the shore, tucked his feet under him, and hid his long tale-telling snout with the razor-sharp teeth underneath a pile of rotting leaves. He was sure he looked like a fallen tree trunk.
No sooner was he settled than Kancil stepped daintily into view, her large eyes rolling from left to right, her short tail trembling nervously.
Buaya’s mouth watered, and he worked even harder at looking like an uprooted tree.
“Oh, my!” Kancil called out loud. “That tree must have fallen down during the night. It wasn’t here yesterday!”
“Let’s see now …” Kancil said, pondering. “If you really are a dead tree, turn around. But if you are a crocodile, lie still!”
At her first words Buaya started to move, then he realized his mistake. Too late! Kancil quickly retreated into the jungle, while Buaya’s girl friend laughed. “Fooled by a dumb mouse deer,” she sneered. “I’m going to find myself another boyfriend!” She dived into the river and Buaya never saw her again.

In a recent conversation with a friend of mine, he told me that when he was a young, newly baptized member of the Church, he suddenly felt like somehow he did not fit in anymore in his ward. The missionaries who taught him had been transferred away, and he felt like he was on the periphery. Without friends in the ward, he found his old friends and with them engaged in activities that took him away from participating at church—so much so that he began to stray from the flock. With tears in his eyes, he described how deeply grateful he was when a fellow ward member extended a ministering hand to him and, in a warm and inclusive way, invited him to return. Within months, he was back in the safety of the flock, strengthening others as well as himself. Aren’t we grateful for the shepherd in Brazil who sought after this young man, Elder Carlos A. Godoy, who now sits behind me as a member of the Presidency of the Seventy?

After sacrament meeting the bishop called me into his office for a talk. Here is what I have been expecting, I thought. I’m going to be the new teachers quorum president, I’ll bet. I was filled with pride and excitement. Oh, the ward is really going to congratulate me. Mom will be so proud!
I sat in the big chair across from the bishop. He was a pleasant man, smiling as always, but I felt that even though he was smiling this conversation was going to be an important one.
“Steve, we have an assignment for you,” he said. My heart beat rapidly.
“This is a special ‘good neighbor’ assignment. We’re concerned about Hasty McFarlan. He’s a pretty sad old man, you know. He needs someone to befriend him. He’s not a member of the Church, but God’s love reaches to all people, and we as members of his church have the responsibility to show it. Maybe I should say we have the privilege of showing that love.”
I guess I must have looked stunned.
“You know Hasty, don’t you, Steve?” asked the bishop.
My thought went back a couple of weeks to when some friends and I had laughed at the old man by singing jingles and shouting the jokes we had made up about him.
“Yes, I know him,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment and guilt. “He’s the old hermit who lives outside of town.”
“That is right,” said the bishop. “I would like for you to go out and visit him two or three times a week.”
“Alright,” was the only answer I could manage …
The bishop must have detected my disappointment because he leaned forward in his chair and looked at me carefully.
“Now, if this assignment will be too much, don’t be afraid to say so.” I sighed. “Oh, I’ll do it, sir,” I said. “Good,” said the bishop with a smile, and immediately he went on. “You can chop wood for a fire, and get him food, blankets—whatever he needs to help him feel wanted. Be a friend. Your father is aware of the assignment, and he told me he would help you. Your Heavenly Father will be prompting you, too.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
I was 15 years old then, and there were other things I would rather do—play football, hunt, fish, or just do the things my friends were doing. But I had told the bishop I would fulfill the assignment, and I knew it wasn’t good not to do what I said I would.
Hasty lived in a little log cabin at the foot of a mountain, just outside the Idaho farming community I grew up in. On the long hike to his cabin after school that first afternoon, it seemed to me that every pine along the trail whispered Hasty’s loneliness.
Once a year at Christmas the old got a free bath at the hotel, compliments of the sheriff. Probably, we all thought, it was the only bath he got all year. We used to say he looked like a pirate with that growth on the side on his head and his black eyepatch. Most of the kids and even some of the townspeople had the habit of making unkind remarks or trying to trick him whenever Hasty was around. Would he remember me as one of the tricksters? By the time I reached the cabin, I was genuinely frightened.
I knocked. No answer. I knocked again. I knew he had to be in there. Where else could he go?
“Hasty?” My voice faltered halfway through his name. I don’t know how long I must have stood there before I decided to go inside. The thick oaken door creaked as I pushed it open.
“Hasty?” I called again. “Hasty, are you there?”
Hearing a rustling sound, I poked my head in as far as I dared and peeked around the door. It was cold in Hasty’s cabin and very dark. I could barely see the figure of a man on the bed. Hasty was all slouched down, but not as if he’d been thinking. He looked like he was slouching because there was no reason to do anything else. I noticed that the soiled, mildewed blanket he was sitting on was full of holes.
My heart was beating very rapidly. I swallowed hard.
“Hasty, is there anything I can do for you?” I managed to say.
I told him my name and that the bishop from the LDS Church had sent me to see how he was doing and to help out. He said nothing. The silent, staring troll of a man was scaring me.
“Hasty, your fire is out.” No reply.
I went outside, found an axe and some stacked stumps, and began chopping kindling. With every strike of the axe I questioned myself. What am I doing out here? Why me? Why?
“Quit complaining,” a voice inside me said. “The old man is cold and lonely, and you can help him.”
I made a fire and tried to talk to him, but after a few minutes I decided he wasn’t really listening. He needed a new blanket, so I told him I would get a thick, clean, comfortable one, and the next day I did. After that I came every other day. Slowly, over the next several weeks, he began talking.
One day after we had talked a little he said, “Boy, why do you come? I’m sure a boy your age can find better things to do than visit a sick old man like me. But I’m glad you come.” And then he smiled.
At Thanksgiving I invited Hasty to our house for dinner. He didn’t come, but our family took part of the dinner to him. There were tears in his eyes as he tried to thank us.
I discovered as our visits continued that Hasty had been a sheepherder. Once he had had a wife and children, but they had gotten a terrible fever and died of it.
Feeling in his grief that his life had been shattered, Hasty wandered the whole country as a vagabond. A diseased growth on the side of his face made one eye blind. And the teasing and practical jokes had begun.
But to me the old man didn’t seem as ugly and frightening anymore. In fact, after school I hurried to his cabin to help him and to listen to his stories.
When Christmas arrived, we invited him to dinner once again. This time he came, and he came in a suit, all cleaned and handsome. He looked great. A smile curved his lips. Hasty was happy because we showed him he was needed.
As we finished dinner, the old man bowed his head for a second, and then raised it and said, “You people sure are wonderful. My life has been in shambles for a long time, but the love you’ve shown is making me a different person. I’m very grateful.”
As he said that, I could feel a little fire in my chest getting big. It felt good.

After my wife, Jean, and I were baptized on 27 October 1957, we did not start paying tithing right away as we should have. I thought we had too many debts and too little money. I should have known that we could not afford not to pay it.
When a year passed, we were expecting our third child. We had just purchased a new house and also had several more debts. About this time, my wife said, “We need to pay our tithing.” I did not know how we could because we had no money left after our expenses, but I said, “We will do it.” And we did.
We had already moved into our new house, but the loan had not yet closed because the street and the driveway were not finished. It soon began to rain and rain and rain some more. As a result, the work on the street and driveway was delayed. The loan did not close, so we had no house payments.
By the time the work was finally completed, the mortgage company had lost the loan papers and seemed in no hurry to find them. When the papers were finally found, we had lived in our house for six or seven months without making a single payment. We were able to get ahead on some of our other payments during this time.
Things have not always been financially easy for us, but we have never stopped paying our tithing. We call this experience a blessing from heaven.
Henry Hardnock, Midland Second Ward, Odessa Texas Stake