Gospel Story Finder

This teaching may seem a paradox. After all, isn’t getting more of the things you want the way to be happy? The youth of the São Paulo Brazil Santo Amaro Stake know better. Two weeks before their youth conference, they began collecting food, toys, and clothing—loving gifts for the children of a state orphanage. The donations came not just from members of the Church, but from other neighbors, too.
“I learned that we must love one another and not just ourselves. I also learned that everyone needs to live in harmony. I believe we should help those who need help like the mentally ill, the homeless, and the orphaned.”
Carlos dos Santos Souza, Diadema Second Ward
On Saturday, the conference opened with a day of soccer, volleyball, other sports, and a roadshow. But on Sunday, the two hundred young members of the Santo Amaro Stake turned to serving their brothers and sisters. They wrote more than a hundred letters to full-time missionaries from their stake. Sixteen of the priests teamed up with full-time missionaries for some missionary work. And others went to the homes of 120 young people who had not been taking part in Church activities, inviting them to join with them in the youth conference. Several accepted the invitation to hear Elder Helio da Rocha Camargo of the Second Quorum of the Seventy speak at the fireside that evening. Some took part in activities the next day.
On Monday, the youth turned their efforts to the community—specifically, to Guarapiranga Park, a large park within the stake boundaries. Painting roadside curbs, picnic tables, and fences, the group drew attention from many of the thousands of people who were at the park. Some of those who noticed the group joined them for a picnic lunch and found out more about the Church. The park administrators said they had never seen such an act of service, and city officials expressed their gratitude for all the youth had accomplished.
“Although people in general are cheerful, they don’t realized what true happiness is all about. Happiness is not something you receive, but something you give.”
Simone, Jabaquara Ward
But hearts were touched most deeply when the two hundred young people visited the state orphanage on Tuesday. With them they took the goods they had collected during the previous weeks. But they also took gifts the children needed even more: love and attention. Visiting with the four hundred orphans—from newborn to age six—they changed diapers, told stories, and sang Primary songs. They took children to the playground and simply talked with them. When the time came to leave, there were many tears. With hearts overflowing, the youth of the Santo Amaro Stake found that even a three-hour-long testimony meeting was just too short to express their feelings. They had served, they had loved, they had felt joy. And they wanted to have this kind of youth conference every year.

The Mia Maids of the Bluffdale Eighth Ward in Bluffdale, Utah, decided to make a hands-on sign of their commitment to living virtuous lives. After some memorable lessons and discussions on the topic of virtue, each one of the girls traced her handprint on the flag and wrote inside it what they were committing to do to be virtuous. These were some of the promises printed on the flag:
“I promise to keep clean thoughts and to have friends that don’t promote bad things.”—Sierra Hirschi
“I promise to watch clean things so my thoughts will be clean.” —Erica Wilcox
“I promise to keep myself temple worthy and clean so someday I can be sealed for time and all eternity.”—Katelyn Pitchford
“I promise to keep the music I listen to clean.”—Karley Newbold
“I promise not to date until I am 16.”—McKayla Hill
The virtue flag now hangs in the bishop’s office so every time the girls are in his office they are reminded of their commitments.

Two years after the 1978 revelation on priesthood was received and announced, a group of young Durban township boys were contacted and taught by missionaries. By the end of the year, this group had joined the Church, and in early 1981, they became members of the first organized branch of the Church in the township of KwaMashu (located north of Durban). In late 1984, Sipho Khomo—one of those township boys—was asked by his branch president if he would be willing to serve a full-­time mission.

The decision was not an easy one for him to make. At the time he was baptized, black South Africans referred to the Church as “Isonto Labe Lungu,” meaning, “Church of the Whites”—not a flattering label at all—but reflected impressions that many held about the Church during the difficult apartheid years in South Africa. Rumors, false stories, and the social issues stemming from racial tension in the country all weighed heavily on Sipho as he considered the bishop’s invitation to serve.

But exercising great faith, and without fully knowing the impact his decision would have to himself and to many others, Sipho accepted a call in October 1984 to serve in the London England Mission—making him the first black South African to serve as a full-time missionary.

During his mission and afterward, Sipho’s pioneering spirit motivated other African young men to accept mission calls and to serve the Lord. In fact, during one of Elder Khomo’s Christmas phone calls from England, the township boys all gathered with his family to hear of his missionary experiences. The enthusiasm from that telephone call was contagious, and shortly afterward, those same township boys submitted missionary paperwork and received calls from the prophet to serve in the mission field themselves.

In his own words, Brother Khomo said, “I am glad I went on my mission—it helped make me strong. I followed the counsel given in section 4 of the Doctrine and Covenants and served the Lord with all my ‘heart, might, mind and strength’ so that I could ‘stand blameless before God at the last day’” (verse 2).

Brother Khomo still lives in KwaMashu, and he remains faithful to the gospel of Jesus Christ. His example influenced more than the township boys—and is felt even today as more than 1,000 full-time missionaries from the Africa Southeast Area currently serve in many countries around the world.

Our family chooses to not watch TV on Sunday to help us keep the Sabbath day holy. One Sunday night, our neighbors told me about a show that I wanted to watch very badly. I asked my mom and dad if I could watch it, but they said no. I felt sad that I couldn’t watch the show. My mom read the Friend with me, and then we played a game together. My brother and sister joined us, and we all played a game together. It was fun! When I went to bed, I realized that I didn’t feel bad anymore for missing the TV show. I felt really good that I had kept the Sabbath day holy.

I am a full-time missionary serving in the Honduras Tegucigalpa Mission. While caring for a sick companion one day, I found a box containing a stack of Liahonas (Spanish) dating from 1988 to 1998. I had found a treasure.
During the time my companion was recovering, I read the magazines and learned a great deal about the teachings of President Ezra Taft Benson, President Howard W. Hunter, and our current prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley. I was so grateful to find that treasure of knowledge.
This experience has helped me on my mission. Each time I share a copy of the Liahona with someone, I feel I am delivering light, knowledge, and a great treasure into their hands. This powerful treasure has changed many lives, including mine.
Sister Verónica Solís Velásquez,Honduras Tegucigalpa Mission

Jessie and Steve Cota saw a need and found a way to fill it. With help from their father, they built a house for an abandoned mother and her five children, who had been living on the street.
The 12-year-old twin brothers, who live in the Nogales Branch, Tucson Arizona Rincon Stake, didn’t wait for a quorum service project or an assignment from the branch president. They went right to work.
“My aunt, who lives in Mexico, met this woman in the hospital,” Steve explains. “She found out the conditions the woman and her children were living in and knew they needed help. She talked to my father, Jose, who is first counselor in our branch presidency, to see if something could be done.”
Something could. Word spread quickly in the branch. Church members contributed what they could, and Brother Cota, a builder, was able to get materials donated from a project he was working on. The aunt donated her own backyard as a site for the new construction.
“Everybody helped out,” Jessie says. “But to be honest, my dad did most of the work.”
Brother Cota, however, gives credit to his sons. “They really enjoy working. They helped put the floor in, hauling buckets of water so we could make the cement. They helped with the framing and with the roof. We’re especially proud of the roof, which has asphalt shingles and should last many years.”
The house the twins built is similar to dozens of others that cover the hillsides of Nogales, which straddles the border of Arizona and Mexico. The house is small, made mostly of plywood, and has no plumbing. But it is now home to a family of six.
It took three to four weeks, working on Saturdays, to complete the structure. “We felt good, knowing we were helping someone who needed help,” Steve says. “We learned a lot doing this together. We learned about how Church members can reach out to help others in the community. We learned about construction. And we got to be better friends with our father.”
“We like to nail things together,” Jessie says. “Maybe I’ll be a builder when I grow up, too.”
Brother Cota just smiles, then says, “The important thing about this is that now the children who live in this house will have a future. They have protection from the weather and a chance to go to school.”
We visit for a minute more, talking about birdhouses the boys are building as a hobby, about Steve’s baseball games and Jessie’s love of football, about future plans to build an outside bathroom to go along with the house.
Then the woman, surrounded by her children, greets the Cotas warmly and poses for a photo with them.
“These,” she says, “are the people who gave me my home.”

I know of one Laurel-aged girl named Diana who will always appreciate what a good friend did for her without being asked during a critical period of her life. When she was 17, Diana became extremely and chronically depressed. Her depression was so severe that she eventually required medical attention. When her friend Rachel learned of this, she made quietly sure that she was available whenever Diana needed her. To this day Diana maintains that the phone calls, long walks, tennis matches, and lengthy conversations on a variety of subjects, including her illness, were instrumental in helping her return to full health and activity.

We started our marriage with an eternal perspective, and we felt that meant we should not postpone or limit the children waiting to come to our family. My husband continued his tertiary (undergraduate) studies as our family grew. By the time he entered the workforce full-time, we had five children. I continued my studies part-time so I could care for our children at home. I look back fondly on those early years. They were awesome! We were in a little apartment with two children under 15 months, living on our meager student allowance and eating a lot of mince (hamburger).
I think of those early years as our pioneer years—we were crossing the “plains” of tertiary study, starting our family, and living on limited financial resources. I feel akin—but only to a small degree—to what one of the survivors of the Martin handcart company said of their journey: “Everyone of us came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives for we became acquainted with him in our extremities.”1
In the eyes of the world, what we chose to do in those initial years of marriage did not make sense. Postponing my graduation to have children, living on one income, and sacrificing some luxuries may have seemed foolish. But the Lord told Isaiah:
“My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord.
“For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8–9).
Sacrificing worldly goals to follow Heavenly Father’s will for our family has been a humbling blessing in our lives.
We read in the Doctrine and Covenants that those who “are willing to observe their covenants by sacrifice … are accepted of [the Lord].
“For I, the Lord, will cause them to bring forth as a very fruitful tree which is planted in a goodly land, by a pure stream, that yieldeth much precious fruit” (D&C 97:8–9). Our five children are our precious fruit. They are undoubtedly our greatest blessings.

The summer wind rustled the long grass as it gusted across the vast, rolling plains of northern Montana, whistling by the gray, unpainted, weather-worn boards of the small house. The house sat almost alone out there in that great expanse of land with the mighty Missouri River gliding by in the middle of its journey to its rendezvous with the Mississippi. Occasionally one of the loose boards on the house would rattle a bit as a particularly strong gust would hit it, and the flapping could be heard inside.
It was Sunday, but except for a few rather puny creations of man, the great, sweeping plains and grass looked much as they had for many hundreds of Sundays, and other days of the week as well. There was a certain feeling of changelessness to this immense land.
Inside the lone, sparsely furnished house, propped up on the old chipped and rusted hospital bed to which he was confined, was old Pointing Iron, once a great warrior of the proud and magnificent Sioux nation. Now he was confined by age and frailty to this small, one-room wooden shack.
His eyes wandered around the walls of the room, not noticing the pasteboard that served not only as a covering for the walls but as the wallpaper as well. It was the same in most of the Indian homes on the reservation. Instead, he would let his gaze roam around the walls, stopping to gaze upon some old, faded picture or memento out of his past, and memories of long ago events would flood back into his alert mind. Pointing Iron didn’t know how old he was, nor did anyone else who knew him, but his memory went back to many of the happy times of his people. He had seen many snows in his lifetime.
Brother Pointing Iron hadn’t forgotten what day it was, and he looked forward with anticipation to the time when the sun would approach midday. As midday drew near, he reached out his once powerful arms and attempted to straighten the blanket and the worn quilt that covered his weakened body. Then his gnarled hands went up to the two straight braids of beautiful gray hair that hung well below his shoulders. It was important that they fall neatly in place and that his head be held proud and erect, however hard it might be to hold it there.
He waited now for what he knew was to come. Shortly there was a sharp knocking, and as the door creaked open, two young men in dark suits entered, glad to be sheltered from the wind.
Brother Pointing Iron anxiously reached out his hand and warmly shook the hands of the two missionaries who had come on a special errand to his humble home. Not many words were exchanged, as Pointing Iron could speak very little English and the elders knew almost nothing of the Sioux tongue, but there was a communion of the spirit that all of them felt.
The elders did, however, have a hymn book in the Sioux language, so while one of them selected some music, the other moved an old, rough, wooden chair, held together mostly by wire, into the center of the room. He then very carefully unfolded two clean, freshly pressed handkerchiefs and laid them on the seat of the chair. A small, clean plate was produced and placed on the handkerchiefs. On the plate he put a small morsel of bread and beside it a small glass of clear well water. Now all was in readiness for the meeting to begin.
The elder had opened the hymn book to page 25, and the three of them sang, as best they could, “Sweet Hour of Prayer,” after which one of the missionaries offered the invocation. Then the senior companion knelt and repeated the blessing on the bread. As the plate was handed to Brother Pointing Iron, his trembling hand reached out and picked up the small piece of bread, which represented to him the sacrificed body of his beloved Savior, and the tears flowed slowly down his wrinkled, weather-beaten cheeks.
After the water had been blessed and given to Pointing Iron, the elders once again opened the hymn book, and they all joined in singing, “Israel, Israel, God Is Calling.” Then the junior companion offered the benediction. The chair was cleared off and put back in its place by the wall, and the meeting was over. Once again Pointing Iron’s covenants had been renewed. The elders lingered, reluctant to leave that special spirit they felt so strongly in that old wooden shack on the Montana plains.
Finally they shook the hand of their loved brother and said their good-byes. They stepped once again out into the brisk prairie wind, but somehow the wind didn’t seem to be so much of a bother to them anymore.
This was a cherished weekly Sabbath day assignment and they gladly carried it out until the brave old warrior, Pointing Iron, left this mortal life and was placed to rest in the great old Indian cemetery at Chicken Hill.

Marjon had some definite things she wanted to accomplish as queen, and not long after she was crowned, Kickin’ up Kindness made its debut. She had 20 minutes to speak in front of a group of elementary school students.
“I needed to keep them really involved because I could easily lose their attention,” she says, remembering the day. After she spent some time explaining Kickin’ up Kindness, she handed each child a pencil and paper. “The more I could have them doing things, the better. So I asked them to write about kind deeds.”
The results were both heartwarming and fascinating.
I have helped my dad when he needed money. I have given him my money to help him keep up with bills, food, and other things for our family.—Kim
One day my mom was sick, so I took care of my two sisters so my mom could rest.—Amanda
My best friend’s parents were going through a divorce. She needed comfort. I helped her through that.—Kelly
Marjon continues, “Looking back, I see the positive changes Kickin’ up Kindness has had on me and on other people. When I’m in a school assembly, I ask the children to show me their very best smiles because, to me, one of the best ways you can show kindness is to smile at people. A smile is contagious. Everyone understands what a smile means.”
Marjon then reads some more of the notes she’s received.
I typed my friend’s paper because she’s not very good at typing things up.—Jenny
One thing I did was help my friend find his lost dog.—Joe
I am nice to people.—Freddy
She could go on and on. There is page after page of similar good-deed notes. Instead Marjon puts her scrapbook down. Each one she reads brings a smile to her face. And she’s right. A smile is contagious.

Four years later, Katie, one of my daughters-in-law, underwent an emergency C-section to deliver twin baby girls at 25 weeks of gestation, too close to the threshold of infant viability for comfort. When the girls were just eight weeks old, Katie was returning home late at night from her daily visit with them in the neonatal intensive care unit of the hospital and was hit and killed by a drunk driver, leaving my son a widower with six children.
My wife was everything to me, and my son’s wife was everything to him. Those were tough times for our family.
I didn’t fully appreciate how great Tanya was and how much I depended on her until she was gone. But we had knelt at an altar in a holy temple, and someone having the sealing power had pronounced blessings upon us. I have clung to the promise of those blessings. I trust in those promised blessings.
Tanya’s death was a crisis of faith for me. I had to decide, “Do I really believe?” Faith is called a gift of God, but it’s also a choice we make—a choice to believe. I chose to believe, and I found out that Moroni was correct when he wrote that we receive no witness until after the trial of our faith (see Ether 12:6). After the trial, the witness did come. My faith was rewarded with a confirming peace of mind. That’s what has enabled me to go forward.
As my second wife, Becky, says: “We need faith the most when we face a crisis. Going to the Lord really is the only answer. It is the way to cope and hope.”
Brother Evans and his wife, Becky, share photos of his daughter-in-law and her twin baby girls.
For a time, I struggled to figure out what was faith and what was hope. Alma describes faith as a “hope for things which are not seen, which are true” (Alma 32:21). Because of my faith in Jesus Christ, I have hope that if I remain faithful and true to my covenants, I can share eternal life with Tanya. I am also grateful for the assurance I have that the Savior is there for each of us. There’s a difference between thinking, “He’s there” and realizing, “He’s there for me.”
My two grandchildren have lasting ill effects from their car accident, and I still grieve Tanya’s absence in my life. I’ll never stop missing her, and the love I have for her is not diminished by the love I have for my second wife. The love has just multiplied.
My son has also remarried. His new wife is Becky’s first cousin once removed. We both married into the same family. What are the odds of that? It’s an amazing coincidence, or maybe it’s not.
Our family has had its share of challenges, but we have also experienced blessings. My son has become one of my heroes. He forgave the drunk driver who killed his wife, and he told her he hoped she would straighten out her life. His two little girls recently celebrated their fifth birthday. They are real miracle babies.
“I am grateful for the assurance I have that the Savior is there for each of us.”
For the past 17 years, I have had the privilege of serving as a patriarch. At first, I was afraid I couldn’t fulfill the calling, but I have learned that the blessings come from the Lord, not the patriarch. There are common themes in patriarchal blessings because our Heavenly Father wants many of the same things for all His children, but each blessing is different, individual, and personal.
One of the purposes of a patriarchal blessing is to help individuals see who they are as children of God and to discern how much their Heavenly Father loves them. As a patriarch, whenever I lay my hands on someone’s head to give them a patriarchal blessing, for just a few precious moments, Heavenly Father allows me to feel the love He has for that individual. It is an overpowering feeling. When I feel how much He loves each blessing recipient, I can feel that He loves me too.
“Nothing brings me greater joy than the promises of the temple, which give me hope that through Christ, I can overcome all trials,” says Brother Evans.
Today, Becky and I focus on the temple. One of the reasons our Lord has given us the temple is to give us a glimpse of Zion. In addition to being a patriarch, I was invited some years ago to serve as a sealer in the temple. That has been another great joy of my life. It is a calling of all happy occasions. Nothing brings me greater joy than the promises of the temple, which give me hope that through Christ, I can overcome all trials.

I knew a young woman who was taught the gospel and who wanted to join the Church but who was having trouble with the Word of Wisdom. She used cigarettes and coffee, and the thought of never having another cigarette or cup of coffee in her whole life overwhelmed her. One of the missionaries told her to try it for just one day, and then just one more day. She found that by living it a day at a time she could make it, and she was soon baptized. The same would be true in changing any bad habit for a good one.

President Michaelene P. Grassli, Primary General President: I’m proud to say that Primary children have this year read and discussed the Book of Mormon. Nine-year-old Matt in Wisconsin … said:
“When my father told our family that we would be moving from Denver to Wisconsin, my mother reminded us of Lehi’s family. Like them, I was leaving the only home I had known, all my friends, my school, and my ward. …
“My mother reminded us of how Nephi accepted this challenge—willingly—knowing that the Lord would ‘prepare a way from them that they may accomplish the thing which he commanded them.’
“I have learned that I can do without things, but not without my family. My brothers and sisters and I have tried to be more like Nephi than his complaining brothers. I am grateful for the things that the Book of Mormon teaches us.” (Sunday afternoon session)

Thomas ran through the house looking for Dad. His Scout patrol meeting started in 10 minutes, and he needed help tying his neckerchief.
“Dad! Can you help me?” Thomas pointed at his neckerchief. But Dad was busy talking on the phone.
“Of course Cody can join our patrol,” Thomas heard Dad say. “In fact, we have a campout next weekend.” Dad talked some more, then smiled and hung up.
“Who was that?” Thomas asked.
“You know Cody from school? That was his dad. Cody’s going to join our den and come on the campout next weekend.”
Going on overnight campouts was Thomas’s favorite part of being an 11-year-old Scout, and he liked Cody. But he was confused about one thing. “But Cody doesn’t go to our church.”
“I know,” Dad said. “Cody’s church doesn’t do Scouts, so he wants to join our patrol.”
But everybody in our patrol is from our ward, Thomas thought. How would Cody fit in?
Before the campout, everyone met up at the Church building. “Hi,” Cody said to Thomas. The boys talked for a bit, and then Cody said, “I brought a two-person tent. Wanna share it with me?” Thomas grinned and said yes. Soon the Scouts set off for the mountains. When they got there, the boys ran off to set up their tents.
“Ready?” Thomas called to Cody.
“Ready!” The two boys pushed the tent poles into the ground. Their tent rose up and made a long shadow. “That was easy,” Cody said. “Race you to the river!” Cody bolted away, and Thomas followed behind.
Cody took a turn leading a hike and lighting the campfire. He liked exploring and was really friendly. Thomas was glad Cody got along with the group so well.
At dinner that night, Cody and Thomas grabbed their tinfoil dinners and joined the other patrol members at the picnic table. “Brother Wilson, will you say the prayer?” Dad asked one of the other leaders.
Thomas folded his arms and looked over at Cody. He wasn’t sure how Cody prayed at his church. But Cody bowed his head too and said “amen” at the end—just like everybody else.
“Why did your dad call him ‘Brother Wilson’?” Cody whispered. “Is he really his brother?”
“It’s because we’re all children of Heavenly Father,” Thomas explained. “Do you pray the same way we do?”
Cody smiled. “We use some different words, but it’s mostly the same.”
Pretty soon it was time for s’mores around the campfire. “Now we’ll have Cody give the spiritual thought for tonight,” Dad said.
Thomas was surprised, but Cody gave him a thumbs-up as he walked to the front of the group. “Thanks for letting me come,” Cody said. “I was a little nervous at first, but you’ve all been really nice. I’m going to share one of my favorite scriptures.”
Cody read, “A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you” (John 13:34). Thomas recognized the scripture. “I go to a different church than you guys, but we all show that we love God in the same way—we love each other. Thanks for being my friends!”
Dad stood and thanked Cody. “Now let’s sing ‘Love One Another’ to finish our evening,” he said. Cody listened and smiled while the group sang.
“Nice song,” he said as he crawled into their tent. “It was just like my scripture!”
Thomas smiled and climbed into his sleeping bag. Cody and I might go to different churches, he thought, but we can still be great friends.

Nearly a hundred young women and men in the Toa Baja Puerto Rico District sang as they pulled their handcarts up and over the steep hills of Monagas Park in the morning sunshine one day in March. Reenacting the trek of the Latter-day Saint handcart pioneers, the youth sang first in Spanish—“Como os he amado, amad a otros”—and then in English—“As I have loved you, love one another” (Hymns, number 308).
Stopping along the way in small groups at predetermined spots, the youth read of the experiences of Latter-day Saint pioneers. Several were weeping by the time they finished. The group moved on, singing, “¡Grande eres tú!”—“How great thou art!” (Hymns, number 86).
“We want our seminary students to realize that our sacrifices, no matter how great, are little compared to those of the pioneers,” says Alberto Zayas, associate CES director for the Caribbean. “Seminary helps our youth develop testimonies, so every branch on this island has a class, and two universities each have a Latter-day Saint Student Association.”

A good friend of mine, C. Ray VanLeuven, lived in Vernal, Utah, as a teenager. He worked for his uncle and grandfather on a farm. In addition to the farm, they owned a good deal of land on Diamond Mountain, 30 miles northeast of Vernal. This land had been plowed but needed to be disked. It was determined that if the tractor was kept going around the clock, day and night, for two weeks except Sunday, the project could be completed.
Ray, then age 14, and his friend Larry, age 15, were given that assignment. They were told the uncle would pick them up the following Saturday. For the next six days they were to run the tractor day and night, only stopping long enough for gas. The boys took turns, four hours on and four hours off around the clock. During their off time they would try to sleep.
On about the third day, a U bolt that attached the disk to the hydraulic system of the tractor broke. The boys didn’t know what to do. It was 30 miles back to the farm, and they didn’t know if their uncle was there or in Vernal. They had been entrusted to do a job, and after thinking about it they decided that they could lose as much as two days’ work if they tried to find him. The boys began to look for an alternative, and at a nearby corral they found some bailing wire. They discovered that if they looped 30 to 40 strands through the holes where the U bolt had been it would last eight to ten hours until the wire broke. By using all the bailing wire they could find and even taking a fence apart and using its wire, they were able to keep going until the uncle came to pick them up on Saturday.
Ray VanLeuven was trustworthy, and by his actions he had proven it to all who knew him.

This was the worst day ever! I got home from school and threw my bag down. Then I flopped into the chair and tried not to think about my best friend.
“Want some choc balls?” Mum held the bag out to me. “I just bought some.”
“Not today,” I answered.
That’s when Mum figured out something was wrong. She knows I hardly ever pass up chocolate.
“Everything OK?”
I let out a long sigh. “Not really. I just found out Tim’s moving next week. We promised to keep in touch, and he’s coming back for spring break and all, but it won’t be the same. I won’t have anyone to play with after school!”
Mum patted my shoulder. “I’m so sorry. It’s never easy when friends move away.”
She glanced across the room at our dog. “You know, Ralphie looks like he could use a friend too. Why don’t you take him for a walk?”
“I dunno, Mum …” Taking Ralphie out was the last thing I felt like doing. But I couldn’t remember the last time I took him out, because I had been with Timmy so much. When I looked over at Ralphie, he looked sadder than I did. He whimpered as he ran over and stared up at me with big eyes. How could I say no to a cute face like that?
“I get the message.” I laughed as Ralphie’s tail started wagging when I put the lead on. He knocked me back a step and licked my face. Then he turned and ran out the door so fast that I fell over.
“Whoa!” I shouted as I tried to grab the lead. It slipped right through my hands.
“Wait up, Ralphie!” I got up and raced after him, but all I could see was his bushy tail bouncing through the dusty streets and then into the forest.
Branches whipped my face as I sprinted after Ralphie through the trees. We’d explored all through this forest, but never this part before. Where was he going?
“Ralphie!” I caught a glimpse of him as sunlight cut through the shadows. He had stopped and was waiting on a huge brown rock up ahead.
His happy woofing sounds told me he’d found something great. I raced over to see. I couldn’t believe my eyes as I looked around.
“Wow, this place is awesome! Good find, Ralphie!”
A huge white waterfall crashed over rocks. We crossed the stream below the waterfall and discovered rocks covered in moss.
Bright flowers surrounded the waterfall, and birds flew over our heads.
We even found a sandy beach with deep pools of water. Perfect for fishing! The sand was as soft as candy floss. I took off my shoes and dug my toes into the sand.
The sun hung over the trees like a big golden ball. As I sat there, I felt its warmth hug me like a thick blanket. God’s love surrounded me, and I no longer felt alone. I didn’t ever want to leave.
Finally, after some more exploring, Ralphie and I headed home. Mum asked how the walk went.
“Ralphie found an amazing place! It has a great waterfall with beautiful flowers and everything.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Mum said. Then she grinned. “Want those choc balls now?”
“Yes, please!”
The next day Tim sat by me at lunch. “Sorry I couldn’t hang out yesterday. I had to pack.”
“That’s OK. I took Ralphie for a walk and found an awesome place where we can go fishing when you visit. Sound like a plan?”
“Deal!” he said as we knocked knuckles, something we always did when we made a promise.
Even though I may feel lonely sometimes, I know I’m never alone. God is always with me.

In the meantime, however, Ed had set his sights on All-America status as a freshman in college. To be All-America, you have to finish in the top six among collegiate athletes at the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) finals. It was an ambitious goal, but Ed’s times weren’t too far off, and, if he worked hard enough, he saw no reason why he couldn’t reach it.
He came close to reaching that goal, too, but another roadblock popped up. The finals were held in Austin, Texas, right in the middle of one of the severest heat waves on record. Ed, however, was paying more attention to the race than to the heat. He was running the 10K, which is 25 laps around the track, and about halfway through, he was in the sixth position, which is exactly where he wanted to be. Suddenly, one of the runners in front of him started to wobble, then passed out on the side of the track from heat prostration.
Ed was now in the number five position. If he could hold it, he’d be an All-American in his freshman year for sure. Then, with about three laps to go, Ed felt the two runners behind him begin to gain on him. He knew he couldn’t let them pass, and he exerted all the effort he could to stay ahead. But suddenly, “everything went fuzzy around the edges, and instead of running straight, I was running to the left and to the right. I was doing what the guy in front of me had been doing before he dropped out. I guess I was feeling the effect of the heat. I don’t remember much after that, but a half a lap later I was dragged off the track by my coach and a few teammates, and I remember waking up in the training room in a tub of cold water with some ice in it. I went back to my hotel room just thinking that I blew it,” he said.
But this time there was a hand outstretched, waiting to help him over that particular barrier. “One of my coaches came by to talk,” Ed relates.
The coach was also a rancher and said, “Ed, I’ve worked a lot with runners, and I’ve worked a lot with animals, and I just want you to know that today you ran like a horse.”
“I didn’t exactly know how to take that,” Ed confided, “but then the coach explained, ‘You can take a good mule out and work with it, and it will do what you want it to until it gets tired. Then it will just sit down. And you can kick it and beat it and do whatever, but until it’s good and rested, it’s not going to budge. But you can take a good horse, and that horse will work for you until it drops over from exhaustion. Today, you ran like a horse, Ed.’
“I learned a great lesson that can be applied in jobs or studies or any aspect of life, really,” Ed relates. He realized that the endurance to follow a job through and give your all is more important than the final outcome. It’s the ultimate effort you put into anything that makes it worthwhile.

I was shopping with my mom when I found a $10 bill lying on the floor. I picked it up and thought I would go to the toy aisle and pick out a new toy. But then I remembered that I should choose the right and be honest. I knew that $10 was a lot of money to lose, especially for someone my age. I also thought about how sad I would feel if I was the one who lost the money. So I told my mom I was going to take it to the lost and found. The man at the service desk told me that someone had been looking for the money and that he would return it to him. I had a good feeling inside—better than if I had bought a new toy.

Betsy stared at her friend. “I don’t believe them, but if you want to, it’s all right with me. But are you really sure? He’s taking everyone who’s baptized to Kirtland. If you join, I’ll never see you again!”
Kirtland! Mary Ann felt all funny inside. This Church was true, but she didn’t want to leave their warm home and travel far away. She hurried home. Mother would know if Betsy spoke the truth.
Her mother nodded. “Your father and I talked to Brother Reed last night while you were sleeping. He told us that all the Saints are gathering to Kirtland, Ohio. After we’re baptized, we’ll join them there.”
Mary Ann’s heart sank. How could they leave their home? How could they leave their friends? She sat down by the fire and poked at the coals.
Brother Reed came in and sat next to her. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
Her heart ached so much that it was hard to talk. “I don’t want to leave here.”
He nodded. “You’ve heard we’re gathering to Kirtland.”
“Yes.”
He smiled. “Let me tell you about Kirtland. You’ve met an Apostle of God, but in Kirtland there’s a real prophet of God, Joseph Smith. Imagine seeing someone who’s actually talked to God! The Prophet is the one who has commanded that we gather. You see, we’re building up the kingdom. We’re also going to build a temple.”
“A temple?”
“Yes. It’s a place where the Saints can gather to worship and teach one another the gospel.”
“Can I go in this temple?”
“Yes, but it isn’t built yet. We all need to help build it. There’s much to be done.”
Mary Ann thought about it. She wanted to hear the Prophet speak and to be with others who believed as she did. Suddenly she found she was eager to go to Kirtland.
Weeks later their farm sold, and her family joined several others in a small wagon train. With Brother Brigham leading the way, they started on their journey to Kirtland.
The wagons traveled slowly, and baby Anna got sick. Just when Mary Ann thought that they’d never get to Kirtland, Brother Reed ran alongside their wagon. “Kirtland’s just around the bend!”
The people urged their tired oxen on. Mary Ann bounced up and down on the wagon seat. Then she jumped down and ran ahead with the other children. As she turned the corner in the road, her heart sank. Where were all the beautiful buildings? Where was the temple Brother Reed had talked about? Kirtland was just a raw frontier town.
She plodded back to her parents. “I don’t like Kirtland,” she told them. “It’s ugly.”
Her mother smiled at her. “It’s just not finished yet. It’ll be beautiful some day. We’ll help to make it so.”
Brother Reed came and took Mary Ann by the hand. “Come with me.” He took her along a dirt road past a store and around the corner to the edge of a field. “This is where we will build the house of the Lord. When it is finished, it will be shiny and white and wonderful! It will be a fit place for the Lord.”
Mary Ann felt that sweet feeling she now recognized as the Holy Ghost. Maybe things weren’t what she expected, and maybe it would be hard to build a home again, but she knew that her family was doing what was right.
She looked at the field. It might be a long time before the temple was built, but it would be a temple of the Lord!