Gospel Story Finder

My father had a horse and buggy when I was a boy. Then one summer day in 1916, he came home in a shining black Model T Ford. It was a wonderful machine, but by today’s standards it was crude and temperamental. For instance, it did not have a self-starter. It had to be cranked. You had to crank it correctly or you could break your hand. But you could prepare it for safe cranking by retarding the spark. The car was also hard to start if the motor got wet. But a little canvas properly placed would keep it dry.
I learned that making preparations can save trouble.

I used to have a monster crush on Tyson Davis. Used to. I mean, he’s gorgeous. But he knows it. Besides, he’s kind of a jerk.
I am not going to call him. No way.
But …
Last Sunday I saw Tyson at church. It was the first time he’d been there in about a year. He looked really sad and miserable. He was sitting in the back row, and if I didn’t know better I’d say he’d been crying.
He didn’t stay for the whole meeting. I sort of wish he had. I wanted to talk to him. He looked so sad.
Ever since I saw Tyson, I can’t get him out of my head. I feel like I should call him. I’m not going to, though. When Tyson first moved into the ward, I called him all the time. I invited him to do things with the Young Women and Young Men. He never did anything with us, though, and he treated me like a pest. He made me feel stupid.
I am not going to call him.
Besides, I’m late. I’m going to the church dance.
I make it all the way to my car and start backing out of the driveway before I finally sigh. “Okay, I’ll call him.”
The urge to do it is too strong to ignore. And I grumble to myself all the way to the phone. I’ll call him, and he’ll make me feel like an idiot. But at least then I can go to the dance in peace.
“Hi,” I say when his little sister, Kari, answers the phone. “Is Tyson there?”
“Uh, I’m not sure,” she says. “Who is this?”
“It’s Michele.”
She’s silent for a moment. “From church?”
“Yep,” I tell her. “Michele from church.”
“He’s probably not here, then,” she says. “But I’ll check.”
I hear her put down the phone. I’m almost positive she is going to come back and tell me he’s not there. Apparently he’s having the six-year-old screen his calls. So I’m pretty floored when a minute later Tyson picks up the phone.
“Hello,” he says, “Michele?”
“Yeah.” He sounds friendly. Weird. Maybe Kari didn’t give him the whole message. “It’s Michele from church.”
“I know,” he says. “Hi.”
“Hi. Well, I was just calling—well, wondering, um, I saw you at church Sunday and you seemed really sad.”
Tyson is silent for a moment. “Yeah, I was.”
“I’m calling because there’s a dance at the stake center tonight. Maybe you should come.” I feel sort of lame inviting him, knowing how he feels about the Church. He’s been pretty clear he doesn’t want anything to do with us. Still, I can’t get my mouth to shut up. “Maybe it could cheer you up,” I tell him.
“Yeah, maybe.” He sounds thoughtful. “I’ll meet you there, okay?”
I nod, even though I’m talking into the phone. “Okay.”
“And Michele?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for calling.”
When I hang up the phone, I stand staring at it in amazement. Did I dial the wrong number? Was that really Tyson? Tyson Davis? Mr. I’m Too Good for Church Dances?
When I pick up Audrey and Shawna they don’t believe me about the conversation. “Tyson actually said he would come? Tonight? To the dance?” Shawna asks.
I nod. “That’s what he said.”
“He was being sarcastic,” Audrey decides.
When we get to the dance, we look all over the building. No Tyson. I dance for a while then go back to the parking lot—not really to wait for him but just because I have the feeling I should check it out. There I find Tyson sitting in his car.
I knock on his window, and he gives me a sad kind of smile. “Hi,” he says. He looks sort of embarrassed.
“What are you doing out here?” I ask.
“I couldn’t go in,” he says. “I was going to but, ah, I don’t know. I was hoping you would come out. I wanted to talk to you. Is that okay?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
I get in the passenger seat, and I’m surprised to see that he’s dressed up. I can tell he planned to go in. “What did you want to talk about?”
He’s silent for a moment. “When you called tonight it was weird. I’d been praying. I hadn’t done that in a long time—prayed, I mean. And then you called.”
He explains that his best friend, Seth, had died two weeks ago. He wasn’t from here. He lived in Florida where Tyson used to live.
“Seth was drunk and ran into a car,” Tyson says. “He died and everyone in the other car—a family—died too.”
Tyson wipes away a tear. “Seth messed up. He really messed up his life. I have too. I’ve messed mine up really bad. But I want to change. I really do. That’s what I was praying about, see, but it’s hard. My friends are partiers. That’s what we do. We party.”
Tyson’s silent for a moment. He looks tormented. “And I don’t have other friends. I mean, friends in the Church. I blew them off a long time ago. I was so mean to you. But then tonight you called.” He sounds full of wonder.
I didn’t know what to say. “I just felt like I should.”
“Yeah, see, that’s it,” he says. “You’re really close to God. He talks to you and you listen.”
Tingles run through my body. “Yeah, but Tyson, you can have that too. It’s the Holy Ghost. If you listen, He’ll talk to you.”
Tyson shakes his head. “I’m not like you. You don’t know what I’ve done. I’ve done bad things.”
“But Tyson,” I protest.
“Look, you don’t have to bear your testimony to me. I know what you believe. You live what you believe. I watched you all last year. You can’t know how it is for me. You don’t do things wrong.”
“I do too!”
“Well, not like me,” he says. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re the way you are. I needed someone to talk to tonight. I’m glad it was you.”
I blush, feeling totally complimented. “So, do you want to go into the dance?”
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” he says. “I thought I was. I want to change my life around. That’s what I want. But it’s harder than you think.”
“I don’t think it’s as hard as you think,” I tell him, pulling him out of the car. “It’s just a church dance.”
I take his hand. “Don’t be scared. I’ll be with you.”
“Mormon Michele, protector of the inactives,” Tyson says with a grin.
“That’s right,” I tell him. “And don’t you forget it.” I give his hand a squeeze. “I mean it, Tyson. Don’t forget it.”

We need to make our homes a place of refuge from the storm, which is increasing in intensity all about us. Even if the smallest openings are left unattended, negative influences can penetrate the very walls of our homes. Let me cite an example.
Several years ago, I was having dinner with my daughter and her family. The scene is all too common in most homes with small children. My daughter was trying to encourage her young, three-year-old son to eat a balanced meal. He had eaten all the food on his plate that he liked. A small serving of green beans remained, which he was not fond of. In desperation, the mother picked up a fork and tried to encourage him to eat his beans. He tolerated it just about as long as he could. Then he exclaimed, “Look, Mom, don’t foul up a good friendship!”
Those were the exact words he heard on a television commercial a few days earlier. Oh, what impact advertising, television programs, the Internet, and the other media are having on our family units!

About a year after my husband and I were married, my youngest brother’s three daughters came to live with us. My husband’s youngest sister and a girlfriend of mine also asked if they could stay with us for a while, and since we didn’t have any children, we welcomed all of them. Suddenly we were no longer just a couple; we were a large family.
Prior to this time, my husband and I were not too serious about holding home evenings because it was just the two of us, but with the new additions to our family, we decided to implement the program earnestly in our home.
From our first family home evening together, our Mondays were never the same, nor will our lives be the same, because of those wonderful experiences. Our usually quiet home started to be filled with music. The children who couldn’t read started to learn and developed a love for it. Those who were shy and hesitant to accept assignments developed confidence and showed eagerness to contribute, even volunteering to do special presentations. There was excitement throughout the week as everyone talked about what we had done the previous Monday night and what we were going to do the next one. Excitement would build as Monday neared and as family members were busy making preparations for their “big surprises.”
The promise of an exciting home evening even became a motivation for all to do their assigned household chores. Each home evening brought insights and discoveries that enriched our lives.
My nieces have since returned to their father, my sister-in-law has moved out on her own, and my girlfriend now lives in a dorm close to the school she’s attending. We’re back to being just a couple again. But we are still having those fun-filled, meaningful home evenings. Sometimes we invite other families to join us, and other times we take pleasure in just getting to know each other better, working out our problems together, and expressing our appreciation for each other. Our themes and activities continue to be simple and focused on meeting our needs.

Edna Amburo also had difficulty reading the Book of Mormon at first—not just because she found it hard to understand, but because friends told her she was “going to the fire” for reading it. “All my friends told me to burn the book,” she says, “but I decided not to burn it because I felt the Book of Mormon was the word of God.”

Edna was baptized in 1990. Shortly thereafter, she was called to teach the Book of Mormon to seminary students.

“I said, ‘How am I going to teach? I am not an educated woman. I am not a good speaker in English, and I am not a good writer. I left school in grade five.’”

Branch members and the full-time missionaries encouraged Sister Amburo to ask the Lord for help. She took the suggestion seriously and spent a tearful two weeks fasting and praying that the Lord would help her to become an effective teacher.

“I found Moroni 10:4–5 [Moro. 10:4–5] and exercised it,” she says. “I saw it was true. I got peace in my heart. I got joy. And I was happy that I was going to teach seminary. I really love the Book of Mormon. I understand it now.”

Sister Amburo attributes her spiritual and intellectual growth to help from her Heavenly Father. In addition to teaching seminary, she teaches Sunday School and serves as a counselor in the Popondetta Branch Relief Society presidency.

“Step by step I came along. The Church has helped me a lot. It is a learning church.”

Percy “Chappy” Winstanley, who presided over the first Durban stake created in 1981 and came up from Johannesburg to attend the Durban dedication, recalled Church members putting their lives on the line regularly—sometimes in helping with routine meetings and activities.
“We had a high councilor down in the Eastern Cape who would have to run the gauntlet of rioters throwing rocks at his car to go open the meetinghouse in the morning,” he said. “Then he would have to go back [to lock the building], and here came the rocks again.”

I wasn’t the most popular person in the marching band. I had some friends, of course, but I didn’t hang with the really “cool” people. They were the ones who sat in the back of the bus on trips and held their own raucous celebrations.
As I settled onto a green vinyl seat on the “band bus,” the cool breeze of an Alabama autumn slipped in a window and brushed my cheek. We were headed for the stadium, and like usual, the drum section members were in the back of the bus with their rowdy friends. Lulled by the rhythm of the ride, I shut my eyes and reflected on my social status and how isolated I felt being one of the few Mormons at school.
A teeth-jarring jolt startled me. The bus was off the road, careening wildly along the gravel shoulder. I gripped the seat ahead to steady myself. The bus was out of control, and each tilt and sway threatened to fling us into a crushing roll.
We lurched toward the ditch that lay beyond my window, balancing on two tires. The afternoon sun flared into brilliant white, filling my mind with a microsecond vision of my family. I clenched my fists and braced myself for the impact.
The bus tipped, voices screamed, and I sobbed, “Heavenly Father, please!” I was so afraid to die. Immediately my fear was replaced by comforting waves of peace.
There was a thud as the bus righted itself, and gravel sprayed as the bus jolted to a halt. We were on the slope of a ditch, only a few feet short of smashing into the framework of a bridge. I wiped my tears, astonished I was still alive. I was aware of people shouting and sobbing while scrambling for the exit. When I was able to climb out, I collapsed with relief on a grassy knoll, gentle peace still warming my heart.
At that moment I realized I was not only okay physically, but spiritually as well. I thought of a scripture we had discussed in seminary: “And if they die they shall die unto me, and if they live they shall live unto me. … And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them” (D&C 42:44, 46).
I marveled at the calm that had replaced my terror. I really thought I was going to die, yet in the last moment I wasn’t afraid. Popularity pales in the face of death, as do many other things. Although I may not be perfect, it’s nice to be on the right track.

Not long ago I was in South Africa visiting a home with Thabiso, the first assistant in the priests quorum in the Kagiso Ward. Thabiso and his bishop, who presides and holds the keys for the quorum, had been praying for quorum members who were less active, seeking inspiration about whom to visit and how to help them. They felt prompted to visit the home of Tebello, and they invited me to go with them.
Once we made it past the ferocious guard dog, we found ourselves in the living room with Tebello, a calm-spirited young man who had stopped attending church because he had become busy doing other things on Sundays. He was nervous but happy to receive us and even invited his family to join him. The bishop expressed his love for the family and his desire to help them become an eternal family by being sealed in the temple. Their hearts were moved, and we could all feel the strong presence of the Holy Ghost guiding every word and every sentiment.
But it was the words of Thabiso that made the difference in the visit. It seemed to me that this young priest was speaking in the language of angels—loving words that we all could fully understand but that especially touched his friend. “I enjoyed so much talking to you all the time at church,” he said. “You always have kind words for me. And you know, our soccer team has basically disappeared now that we don’t have you. You are so good at it.”
“I am sorry,” Tebello answered. “I will come back with you guys.”
“That will be awesome,” said Thabiso. “And do you remember how we used to prepare to serve as missionaries? Can we start doing that again?”
“Yes,” repeated Tebello, “I want to come back.”
Perhaps the greatest joy I experience as a counselor in the Young Men general presidency is seeing the Aaronic Priesthood holders around the world exercising the power of the Aaronic Priesthood. But sometimes I also witness, with a sad heart, how many young men do not understand how much good they can do with the power they hold.
The priesthood is the power and authority of God Himself to act in the service of His children. Oh, if only every young man, every Aaronic Priesthood holder, could fully comprehend that his priesthood possesses the keys of the ministering of angels. If only they could understand that they have the sacred duty to help their friends find the pathway that leads to the Savior. If only they knew that Heavenly Father will give them the power to explain the truths of the restored gospel with such clarity and sincerity that others will feel the undeniable truthfulness of the words of Christ.
Dear young men of the Church, let me ask you a question that I hope you will carry in your heart for the rest of your life. What greater power can you acquire on earth than the priesthood of God? What power could possibly be greater than the capacity to assist our Heavenly Father in changing the lives of your fellowmen, to help them along the pathway of eternal happiness by being cleansed of sin and wrongdoing?
Like any other power, the priesthood needs to be exercised to accomplish any good. You are called to “arise and shine forth” (D&C 115:5), not to hide your light in darkness. Only those who are brave will be counted among the chosen. As you exercise the power of your sacred priesthood, your courage and confidence will increase. Young men, you know that you are at your best when you are in the service of God. You know that you are happiest when you are anxiously engaged in a good work. Magnify the power of your priesthood by being clean and being worthy.
I add my voice to the call Elder Jeffrey R. Holland made to you six months ago from this pulpit. “I am looking,” he said, “for men young and old who care enough about this battle between good and evil to sign on and speak up. We are at war.” He continued, “I ask for a stronger and more devoted voice, a voice not only against evil … , but a voice for good, a voice for the gospel, a voice for God” (“We Are All Enlisted,” Liahona and Ensign, Nov. 2011, 44, 47).
Yes, Aaronic Priesthood holders, we are at war. And in this war, the best way to defend against evil is to actively promote righteousness. You cannot listen to foul words and pretend you don’t hear. You cannot watch, alone or with others, images you know are filthy and pretend you don’t see. You cannot touch any unclean thing and pretend it’s no big deal. You cannot be passive when Satan seeks to destroy that which is wholesome and pure. Instead, stand up boldly for what you know is true! When you hear or see anything that violates the Lord’s standards, remember who you are—a soldier in the army of God Himself, empowered with His holy priesthood. There is no better weapon against the enemy, the father of lies, than the truth that will come out of your mouth as you exercise the power of the priesthood. Most of your peers will respect you for your courage and your integrity. Some will not. But that doesn’t matter. You will gain the respect and trust of Heavenly Father because you used His power to accomplish His purposes.
I call on every Aaronic Priesthood quorum presidency to once again raise the title of liberty and organize and lead your battalions. Utilize your priesthood power by inviting those around you to come unto Christ through repentance and baptism. You have the mandate and power of Heavenly Father to do it.
Two years ago, while visiting Santiago, Chile, I was very much impressed by Daniel Olate, a young man who often accompanied the missionaries. I asked him to write to me, and with his permission I will read to you part of his recent e-mail: “I just turned 16, and Sunday I was ordained to the office of a priest. That same day I baptized a friend; her name is Carolina. I taught her the gospel, and she regularly attended church and even received her Personal Progress award, but her parents would not allow her to be baptized until they got to know and trust me. She wanted me to baptize her, so we had to wait for a month until Sunday, when I turned 16. I feel so good to have helped such a good person to be baptized, and I feel happy that I was the one who baptized her.”
Daniel is just one of many young men around the world who are living up to the power God has entrusted to them. Another is Luis Fernando, from Honduras, who noticed that his friend was walking a dangerous path and shared his testimony with him, literally saving his life (see “A Change of Heart,” lds.org/youth/video). Olavo, from Brazil, is another example. A true standing minister in his home (see D&C 84:111), Olavo inspired his mother to return to full activity in the Church (see “Reunited by Faith,” lds.org/youth/video). You can find some of these stories and many others like them on the Church’s youth website, youth.lds.org. By the way, the Internet, social media, and other technologies are tools the Lord has placed in your hands to help you exercise your priesthood duties and extend the influence of truth and virtue.
Dear young men, when you exercise the Aaronic Priesthood in the way I have described, you are preparing yourselves for responsibilities in your future. But you are doing much more than that. Like John the Baptist, that exemplary Aaronic Priesthood holder, you are also preparing the way of the Lord and making His paths straight. When you boldly declare the gospel of repentance and baptism, as John did, you are preparing the people for the coming of the Lord (see Matthew 3:3; D&C 65:1–3; 84:26–28). You are often told about your great potential. Well, now is the time to put that potential into action, to make use of the abilities God has given you to bless others, bring them out from obscurity and into light, and prepare the way of the Lord.
The Church has given you the Duty to God booklet as a resource to help you learn and fulfill your duties. Study it often. Get on your knees, away from technology, and seek the Lord’s guidance. And then arise and use the power of God. I promise that you will receive answers from Heavenly Father on how to conduct your own life and how to help others.
I quote the words of President Thomas S. Monson: “Never underestimate the far-reaching influence of your testimony. … You have the capacity to notice the unnoticed. When you have eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts to feel, you can reach out and rescue others” (“Be Thou an Example,” Liahona and Ensign, May 2005, 115).
I testify to you that the power of the priesthood is real. I gained my witness exercising the priesthood myself. I have seen miracle after miracle performed by those who have the power of the Aaronic Priesthood. I have witnessed the power of the ministering of angels as faithful Aaronic Priesthood holders speak Spirit-filled words of hope, opening the heart of someone in need of light and love. In the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord, our leader, and our Savior, amen.

The Standifird family of Highland, Utah, has really taken the sentiment “The family that plays together, stays together,” to heart. Marching band is their life! The four oldest Standifird siblings, Jason, Heather, Ryan, and Kristin, have spent a combined 12 years in their high school marching band.
These brothers and sisters say that being in the band has helped them accomplish other goals by teaching them discipline and hard work, tools that have been especially useful to Jason on his mission to Dublin, Ireland, Heather on her mission to Hong Kong, and Ryan on his mission to the Philippines. Kristin, who just graduated from high school, is glad that, for a brief time, they’ll all be reunited before school starts. Some of them will return to college early to get ready for—what else?—band!

Illustrations by Dani Jones
It was the first full week of eighth grade, and I was already feeling stressed about keeping up with my heavy course load. To make matters worse, my mom had volunteered the two of us to spend the afternoon taking care of a two-year-old boy named Aaron. The plan was that Aaron would nap for two hours while his mom was gone and I’d work on my schoolwork on my laptop while he napped. However, soon after our arrival at Aaron’s house, we heard him crying. At first, we thought he might fall back asleep, but his crying grew louder and louder until he was wailing, screaming, and calling out for his mom.
“Great. How am I going to get my schoolwork done now?” I thought. I felt instantly stressed. I still had my computer open to do my assignment, but how much Spanish homework do you think I was accomplishing with his siren-like wailing going on? Yep, nada.
My mom was doing everything possible to comfort him, but he was clinging to her and sobbing, his tears leaving wet spots all over her shirt.
Then I felt the Holy Ghost speak softly to my mind and heart, prompting me that comforting Aaron was more important than my homework.
So I shut my laptop and started to talk to him. Between my mom snuggling and rocking him and me talking to him, he finally stopped screaming and settled down. Soon enough, little Aaron actually got down from my mom’s lap.
He seemed to want to play. At that point, my mom could have played with him and I could have returned to my studies. But again, I felt that it was important for me to play with little Aaron.
So I sang crazy songs, made silly voices, rolled around on the floor, and contorted my face in all kinds of funny ways. He smiled and laughed. When Aaron’s mom came home, it was awesome to have a happy, giggly Aaron greet her.
My mom and dad have always taught me and shown a good example of how serving others brings joy and meaning to our lives. Now I think I understand what it means in the Bible to “love thy neighbour as thyself” (Matthew 22:39), and it feels awesome!

Together and with the help of the Spirit we chose our secretary. She was a dependable, friendly mother of five who had always been dedicated to the Church. We knew we could depend on her to be there every week.
Our first challenge was to get to know each child and teacher personally. In particular we noticed one ten-year-old boy who was the only one in his class. His name was Troy. His attendance had begun to drop off as he was assigned one teacher after another, and he continued to miss Primary often. Several times we heard his teachers say, “Why prepare a lesson just for one child, when he usually doesn’t even show up? I’m wasting my time.”
There were suggestions that we move Troy forward or move him back a class so that he could be with a larger group. We tried both. Before long, Troy wasn’t coming to Primary at all. We sensed a real loss, and as a Primary presidency we decided to fast and pray about how to help Troy.
Once again I was amazed to see this principle at work. When we met, we all seemed to have our thoughts turned to our secretary, though we wondered how we could ever replace her.
When I talked to her, I found that she had just completed the Teacher Development Basic Course. We gave her name to the bishop and told him we felt certain Jackie was the one the Lord wanted to help Troy. She accepted the position, knowing it was a class with only one boy who often didn’t come; and she, too, had heard other teachers talk about how hard he was to handle and how discouraging it was to teach just one child. Nevertheless, Jackie tackled this teaching job with a very positive attitude and a feeling of love towards a boy who would very likely give her every reason not to love him.
I made it a point to tell Troy that he had a great new teacher. Unconvinced, he missed Primary that week, and the next.
But as the weeks slipped by, Troy occasionally came to Primary as if checking to see if his teacher really was there to teach just him. Jackie always was. And many times she went to Troy’s home to get him to come.
Jackie prayed often to know how she might be able to reach him. One night as she was thinking about Troy just before going to sleep, the thought came so strongly to her: “Be his friend.”
We gradually watched this ten-year-old boy being loved right back into Primary. There seemed to be a special relationship between Troy and Jackie, his friend. She taught him in the good, usual ways and used the Scouting program for the many fun and interesting activities she created for Troy. Those invaluable teaching moments were used so well by a dedicated teacher who truly knew the value of one child. It wasn’t long before we had perfect attendance from Troy.
Jackie remained Troy’s teacher, advancing with him until he graduated from Primary. Everyone was very proud of him. There were few who knew that if it hadn’t been for the efforts of one special teacher, it just wouldn’t have happened.
Not long after his graduation, Troy developed a serious infection around his heart and, critically ill, was taken to the Primary Children’s Medical Center in Salt Lake City, Utah. It was many weeks before he began to slowly improve. Troy’s mother remembers how amazed everyone was as he taught both nurses and the other patients around him about the gospel. He was not afraid to inquire about their religious faith, and his parents noticed that he was teaching the same basic principles he had learned from his Primary teacher and in his home.
Troy did not recover, and we were greatly sorrowed when we heard he died. He was only thirteen years old. The ward and community were stricken with this news. Most devastated were his family, who had to let go of many hopes and dreams for Troy.
As the plans for his funeral were made, Troy’s parents chose someone to give his life sketch who had been especially close to him—his former Primary teacher. As she spoke that day, everyone could feel her love for Troy, and we understood why he had responded to her.
The years have come and gone, but I have never forgotten this experience. I know that the worth of one soul is great in the sight of our Heavenly Father. That is a testimony I will always have because of Troy and Jackie.

You might have seen Nick Whitaker before. He’s been in seminary videos and a few other productions during his short acting career. Now, Nick, 16, is portraying the Prophet Joseph Smith in a new movie about the Prophet’s life.
The movie will soon replace The Testaments of One Fold and One Shepherd at the Legacy Theater in the Joseph Smith Memorial Building in downtown Salt Lake City. The new movie is part of the Church’s commemoration of the 200th birthday of the Prophet Joseph Smith.
Nick’s real-life brother, Max, 11, plays William Smith, one of Joseph’s younger brothers. Max played the part of William Smith in The Restoration DVD as well.
The brothers enjoy working together. They say their testimonies of the Prophet have been built up by their parts in this movie. They have studied about the Smith family and the Prophet and have prayed continually about their parts.
“I’ve gotten to know Joseph Smith a lot better,” says Nick. “I only knew the highlights of his life before. But even the little parts of his life are highlights now. I know he is a true prophet.”
One of the things Nick learned is that Joseph Smith walked with a slight limp as a result of a surgery he had when he was young. Nick had to learn to walk with a small limp, too, to play his part.
Max says he can feel the Spirit when he is filming and learning more about the Prophet. “It has strengthened my testimony,” he says.
Nick and Max hope the new movie will change people’s lives and strengthen testimonies of the Prophet Joseph Smith and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Recently I watched as a 13-year-old young man was set apart as deacons quorum president. Afterward the bishop shook his hand and addressed him as “president,” explaining to the quorum members that he “addressed him as president to emphasize the sacredness of his calling. The deacons quorum president is one of only four people in the ward who hold keys of presidency. With those keys, he, with his counselors, will lead the quorum under the inspiration of the Lord.” This bishop understood the power of a presidency led by a president who holds and exercises sacred priesthood keys. (See D&C 124:142–43.)
Later I asked this young man if he was ready to preside over this great quorum. His response was: “I’m nervous. I don’t know what a deacons quorum president does. Can you tell me?”
I told him he had a wonderful bishopric and advisers who would help him become a successful and powerful priesthood leader. I knew they would respect the sacred keys of presidency he held.
I then posed this question: “Do you suppose the Lord would call you to this important calling without giving you direction?”
He thought, then responded, “Where do I find it?”
After some discussion, he realized that he would find direction from the scriptures, the words of the living prophets, and answers to prayer. We determined to find a scripture that would be a starting place for his search to learn the responsibilities of his new calling.
We turned to the 107th section of the Doctrine and Covenants, verse 85. It mentions that a deacons quorum president is to sit in council with his quorum members and teach them their duties. We noted that his quorum is not only a class but also a council of young men, and they are to strengthen and edify one another under the president’s direction. I expressed confidence that he would be an outstanding president who would rely on the inspiration from the Lord and magnify his sacred calling as he taught his fellow deacons their duties.
Then I asked, “Knowing you are to teach the deacons their duties, do you know what those duties are?”
Again we turned to the scriptures and found:
A deacon is appointed to watch over and be a standing minister in the Church (see D&C 84:111).
Because the family is the basic unit of the Church, the most important setting in which an Aaronic Priesthood holder can fulfill this duty is in his own home. He provides priesthood service to his father and mother as they lead the family. He also watches over his brothers and sisters, the young men of his quorum, and the other members of the ward.
A deacon assists the teacher in all his duties in the Church if occasion requires (see D&C 20:57).
We determined that if a deacon is to assist with the teachers’ duties, he needs to know their duties. We looked in the scriptures and quickly identified over a dozen duties for the office of teacher (see D&C 20:53–59; 84:111). What a powerful experience it would be for every young man—and his father, advisers, and all of us—to do exactly what this young man did: go to the scriptures and discover for ourselves what our duties are. I suspect that many of us will be surprised—and inspired—by what we find. Duty to God contains helpful summaries of Aaronic Priesthood duties and is a great resource for spiritual development. I urge you to consistently use it.
Deacons and teachers are also to “warn, expound, exhort, and teach, and invite all to come unto Christ” (D&C 20:59; see verses 46 and 68 for priests).
Many young men think that their missionary experience starts when they turn 19 and enter the missionary training center. We learn from the scriptures that it starts long before that. The Lord wants every Aaronic Priesthood holder to invite all to come unto Christ—beginning with his own family.
Next, to help this young president understand that he and he alone was the presiding officer in the quorum, I suggested he read three times the first duty listed in Doctrine and Covenants 107:85. He read, “Preside over twelve deacons.” I asked, “What is the Lord telling you personally about your duty as president?”
“Well,” he said, “several things have popped into my head as we have been talking. I think Heavenly Father wants me to be president of twelve deacons. There are only five of us who come, and one comes only sometimes. So how do we get twelve?”
Now, I had never interpreted this scripture the way he did, but then, he held sacred keys that I did not have. I was being taught by a 13-year-old deacons quorum president about the revelatory power that comes to those with the sacred keys of presidency regardless of their intellect, stature, or age.
I answered, “I don’t know. What do you think?”
And he said, “We need to figure out how to keep him coming. I know there are two others who should be in our quorum, but they don’t come, and I don’t know them. Maybe I can become close friends with one and have my counselors work with the others. If they all came, we would have seven, but where do we get five more?”
“I don’t know,” was my answer, “but if Heavenly Father wants them there, He knows.”
“Then we need to pray as a presidency and quorum to find out what to do.” He then asked, “Am I responsible for all deacon-age boys in our ward, even those who are not members?”
In awe, I said, “In the Lord’s view, does your bishop have responsibility for only the members of the ward or for all who live within its boundaries?”
This young “standing minister” got it. He recognized the role of every deacon, teacher, and priest in watching over the Church and inviting all to come unto Christ.
My thoughts turn to a scripture as I think of our wonderful young men and women of the Church—a scripture that Moroni quoted to Joseph Smith, saying that it had “not yet [been] fulfilled, but was soon to be” (Joseph Smith—History 1:41)—“And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, … your young men shall see visions” (Joel 2:28).
What “popped into” this young president’s head was a vision of what Heavenly Father wants his quorum to be. It was the revelation he needed to strengthen the active members of his quorum, to rescue those who were struggling, and to invite all to come unto Christ. Thus inspired, he made plans to carry out the Lord’s will.
The Lord taught this young president that priesthood means reaching out to serve others. As our beloved prophet, President Thomas S. Monson, explains: “The priesthood is not really so much a gift as it is a commission to serve, a privilege to lift, and an opportunity to bless the lives of others” (in Conference Report, Apr. 2006, 60; or Ensign, May 2006, 57).

During the years she lived in my parents’ home, she told us Church history and scripture stories at bedtime. The way Grandmother spoke of Jesus Christ, I knew she loved Him. One afternoon my cousin and I went into Grandmother’s room for a visit. She looked at us thoughtfully.
“Now, children, I’m going to die pretty soon,” she said. “And when I’m gone, I know you will feel sad. But I don’t want you to cry too much. I will be with Jesus and with your Grandpa Amacher, you know.” Grandma’s faith helped me come to know Jesus Christ.

The smell of warm bread greeted Aiden as she walked through the door after school. She sat down, eager for a slice of bread with butter.
“Before you eat, will you please take this over to Brother and Sister Brown?” Mom asked, pointing to a small loaf she had just wrapped.
Aiden sighed, grabbed the loaf, and headed out the door. Sometimes she wished her mom would only make bread for her family. She trudged through the backyard and around the corner, slowing down when she saw the Browns’ house.
Brother Brown was in his eighties, but he still took great care of his lawn. Aiden and her brother, Patrick, would often see him mowing the lawn or trimming the hedges and bushes. He always waved when he saw them and usually talked with them over his white picket fence.
But Sister Brown was never outside. She had osteoporosis, which meant that her bones were very fragile and could break easily. She couldn’t walk very well, and it was painful for her to leave the house.
Today, Aiden didn’t want to visit with them. But even though she wanted to go back home for some of Mom’s yummy bread, Aiden tried to be happy as she opened the screen door and rang the doorbell.
Brother Brown opened the door, and a big smile lit up his face. “Why, hello! Come on in, Aiden!” he said.
Aiden felt a little better already. The Browns were always so nice and so happy to have company. Brother Brown dug into the candy jar and gave her a piece of butterscotch candy as he asked her questions about school.
Sister Brown looked like she was in a lot of pain. Her small body hunched over in her armchair as she wrote something down. Sister Brown was always writing in her journal, writing poems and letters, or making cards to send to her friends. Today she was writing a birthday card very slowly. Sometimes her hands shook, and it was difficult for her to print the words.
“Why do you write so many cards and letters?” Aiden asked.
“It gives me something to do,” Sister Brown said. “I can’t see my friends very often since I can’t leave the house, so I like to write to them to show I care about them.” She finished writing the card.
Aiden chatted a bit more with Brother and Sister Brown and then walked home. She thought about Sister Brown and how much pain she was in. She felt ashamed about not wanting to visit the Browns. “If Sister Brown can serve others, I can serve her too,” Aiden thought.
So whenever Mom made bread or cinnamon rolls, Aiden took some over to the Browns, often with Patrick or her sister, Emma. She and her family sang for the Browns, especially around Christmas. Dad even recorded Aiden, Patrick, and Emma singing so Sister Brown could listen to it.
A few years after Aiden graduated from Primary, Sister Brown passed away. Aiden and her family attended the funeral.
At the end of the service, the bishop surprised Aiden by asking the members of the congregation to stand up if they had received a card from Sister Brown on their birthday. Nearly every person stood up.
As she looked around at all the people that Sister Brown had remembered on their birthdays, Aiden smiled. She thought that she and her family had been serving Sister Brown, but she was wrong. Sister Brown had served them and so many others each day of her life.

I began to urge my family to come with me to sacrament meeting. I told them I wanted us to be an eternal family. To encourage them, I would wash everyone’s church clothes on Saturday night so that the excuse “I don’t have anything to wear” was no longer an option. I told them that I had a testimony of the gospel and that I wanted to share it with them. Most important, I prayed. I prayed that my family could know the Spirit the way I did. I wanted them to go to church so that we could someday be sealed in the temple.
It started slowly and took some time, but one warm August morning, my prayers were answered as we were sealed in the Portland Oregon Temple. I felt the Spirit stronger at that moment than ever before. I knew my family could be together forever. To this day I cannot thank my Heavenly Father enough for this wonderful blessing.

Elder Ronald A. Rasband visited Oklahoma just after a huge tornado struck the area. He was especially touched by a fifth grader he met there named Tori. She had huddled in the restroom with her friends as the tornado roared through her school. Tori said a prayer that Heavenly Father would protect them. Suddenly the roof tore away! Tori kept praying. “All of a sudden it got quiet,” she said. “When I opened my eyes, I saw a stop sign right in front of my eyes!” Later Elder Rasband gave Tori a blessing. He told her that angels had protected her in the storm. (See “The Joyful Burden of Discipleship” from the Saturday morning session.)

Talking with Junko, Hiroyuki, Tetsu, Mikako, and the other young members from the Tokyo area, it was easy to wonder what Elder Heber J. Grant or other early missionaries to Japan might say if they could speak to them today. On August 12, 1901, Elder Grant (who later became the seventh president of the Church), along with three other elders including 19-year-old Alma O. Taylor, sailed into Tokyo Bay to open the first LDS mission in Asia. During the next 23 years, only 166 baptisms were recorded, and the mission was closed, not to reopen in Japan until 1948.

Since then, however, the Church has grown rapidly. Today there are approximately 71,000 members in Japan, 15,300 in the Tokyo area alone. And some of them have parents or even grandparents who joined the Church and raised their children as members.

Junko’s father, for example, was a convert to the Church. He and his wife raised six girls and three boys—an exceptionally large family by Japanese standards—in the gospel, sharing with them often the story of their conversion. “It makes me feel fortunate, blessed really, to have been born in the Church,” Junko said.

Shoko Sakamoto, 14, from the Tokyo Third Ward, is the youngest daughter in her family. She came to the interview with her mother. “My parents joined the Church when I was in kindergarten,” she said. “So everyone in my immediate family is a member of the Church. It is a great blessing. In our home evenings we all learn to be friends with each other. Happiness is being with my family.”

Sarah Kikuchi, 16, from the same ward, was also raised in an LDS home. Her father and mother were constantly involved in church activities, always accepting church callings, and so were the children, including Sarah.

“I watched the Church grow and I thought that someday there might be a General Authority from Japan,” she said. Then on October 1, 1977, Yoshihiko Kikuchi was sustained as a member of the First Quorum of the Seventy. “I never suspected that my father would be one!” Sarah exclaimed. (In July 1982, after these interviews were held, the Kikuchi family moved to Salt Lake City, Utah.)

Sarah said that her Church background has helped her grow in many ways. “When I was little, I was bashful and afraid to do anything. But as I grew up, I was given speaking assignments and committee responsibilities, and it forced me to learn to be more outgoing. Now I’ve got a little more pluck. I’m not afraid to speak in public.” Saturday morning before meeting the rest of the group at the temple, she had given a speech to the entire student body of her high school.

Ask Sarah what she thinks of the Church and she is unwavering: “I know that Joseph Smith founded this Church after having seen God and Jesus.”

The majority of young members in Japan are, however, converts themselves.

Hiroyuki Inoue, 17, of the Machida First Ward, remembers vividly the day he and some friends went into Tokyo “just to hang around.”

“We saw several missionaries at a display in the street. One of them held out his hand to me and said, ‘I would like to talk to you a little.’ I was strongly impressed with this missionary’s sincere eyes, his beautiful, shining eyes. He gave me a feeling that what he was telling me was of great significance to me. I promised to attend church the following day.

“At church, even though I had never been there before, I felt as if I was coming back after a long absence. The missionaries taught me the gospel. When I learned about the atonement of Jesus Christ and the many blessings the Lord has given to us, I was happy. My knowledge became sure that he is my Savior and this is his Church.”

Kenji Nishibori, 17, of the Sugamo Branch, learned of the restored gospel from his older brother. “I knew he was attending meetings, but I was afraid to go to his church,” Kenji said. “Then about five months later, I ran into missionaries on my way home from school. I didn’t think I was serious about investigating, but I went to their chapel, in another part of town where my brother wouldn’t see me. As I listened to the speakers in the meeting, I found what they were saying was marvelous. Then I began to investigate in earnest, and it didn’t take long before I had a testimony of the truth. My father died 12 years ago, but now my brother and I are hoping our mother will someday join the Church.”

Kenji was wearing a dark uniform that buttoned down the front. Asked about it, he explained that it was a school uniform. “They may vary from school to school, but everyone wears them. When I graduate from high school I won’t be able to wear it anymore, so I want to wear it as long as time permits.”

Will he soon be wearing the “uniform” of a missionary?

“I already wear it, when I go to church or work with the elders. So I’m used to it. There is a necessity to go on a mission. We must spread the gospel to many, many people. More than 80 years ago, when the first missionaries came to Japan, people did not know about the Church at all. We have grown a lot compared to 80 years ago. Yet we still have a long way to go. We won’t have done our work until everyone in Japan knows about the gospel. And then we can go on to other lands.”

Heber J. Grant would be proud.

“Ohayogozaimasu! (oh-hi-oh go-ZAH-ee-mahss)” the bishop’s counselor said into the microphone.

“Ohayogozaimasu! (Good morning!)” the congregation responded out loud.

It was the next day, Sunday, and sacrament meeting in the Yokohama First Ward was beginning. The youth played a significant role, as they do in most sacrament meetings. A young man acting as usher had just finished handing out programs at the door. Aaronic Priesthood brethren were preparing to bless and pass the sacrament. Youth speakers sat nervously in their chairs, knowing they would soon have to stand and present a message. The bishop signaled a deacon to come forward and run an errand for him.

Yokohama, located 18 miles south of Tokyo, was only a small fishing village until the emperor opened it to foreign trade in 1859. Today it is a leading port and shipbuilding center of the world, and its expansion has merged so much with that of Tokyo that many Westerners consider it almost a suburb. Two wards, the First and the Second, meet in the Yokohama chapel. Both include a lot of teenagers. And talking with them only reinforced the impressions formed by talking with the youth in Tokyo.

Koji Saito, 17, explained that Church growth in Yokohama has been largely a family affair.

“Three sisters who were members of the Church moved to Yokohama to be close to their parents,” Koji said. “Then more and more relatives joined the Church. The Saito, Endo, and Tanaka families in our ward are all related. I wish more people in Japan would understand that sometimes there are entire Mormon families here, not just isolated converts.”

Koji’s sister, Yuki, 15, said that her family likes to spend time together. “Because of my father’s work situation, we can’t have home evening on Monday. So instead we get together on Saturday afternoon. After talking and relaxing, we go over the scriptures we were assigned to read the week before in Sunday School.”

Daisuke Asama, 15, talked about the challenges of being a stake president’s son.

“When my father was set apart,” he said, “I was told that people would look to me as an example. I am trying my best to be worthy. I study the scriptures with my friends. I am trying to save money for a mission. I would like to go right away when I turn 19.”

Kaori Sasaki, 15, told of hearing the Tabernacle Choir sing during its September 1979 visit to Japan. “Coming out of the concert hall afterward, I ran into one of my kindergarten teachers. Only when she was my teacher she wasn’t a member of the Church. But there we met each other as members of the Church. I was so happy it made me cry.”

She said the choir’s visit received a lot of favorable publicity. “On television, they had quite an exposure. I think it helped more people know about the Church, as well as about the choir.”

Mayumi Yoshida, 18, talked about the Tokyo Temple: “For the Saints of Japan, it was a long-cherished dream. It signifies the fact that we can also share the gospel with those in the spirit world. I suppose every girl hopes to be married in the temple. But just because there is a temple built doesn’t mean you can enter it automatically. You can’t prepare for temple marriage in a week. It is important to prepare little by little, day after day.”

Others spoke, too. Rumi Mizuno, 15, said she tries “to make spiritual hours out of the spare evening hours after Church, a time to get close to Heavenly Father and the Savior and know that they are my friends.” Tetsuya Baba, 17, represented a lot of other members when he expressed appreciation for President Kimball and invited him to “come visit us again soon.” And Mitsuko Watashinabe, 14, dreamed of a day when everyone in Japan would live the gospel. “After all,” he said, “Heavenly Father wishes all his children to return to him.”

The next morning, Monday, Tokyo was enshrouded in rain. In the gardens of the Meiji Shrine, which honors the first emperor to experiment with democracy, there was silence everywhere. In the heart of the world’s largest city, where traffic jams are commonplace and commotion is standard, there was only calm and repose.

It was a perfect place to think. And after two days of interviews with LDS youth, it seemed appropriate to draw some conclusions. Japan is a country as old as the centuries, as modern as tomorrow’s dawn. And if Japan is known as the Land of the Rising Sun, then its capital must be the City of the Rising Sun. For it is from this massive conglomeration of towers, parks, ports, business offices, manufacturing plants, and humanity, that the rays of progress and the hope of a bright future have spread throughout Japan. It seemed only natural that part of that light for the future should be the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, first brought to Tokyo by missionaries struggling to clear away the clouds, now shining bright in a city where a temple of God stands tall.

One of the sweetest Christmases President Ezra Taft Benson remembered occurred in 1923, when he returned home on Christmas Eve to the family farm in Whitney, Idaho, USA, after a two-and-a-half-year mission to England. This joyful reunion with his parents and 10 brothers and sisters was also filled with enthusiasm and excitement for Christmas. As a special treat, his parents allowed him to stay up to help with Christmas preparations after the other children were in bed. As he worked alongside his parents, he quietly shared his missionary experiences. He couldn’t hold back the tears during this “choice evening” in his childhood home.3

The deacons quorum of the Apple Valley Ward of the Salt Lake Butler Stake is enthralled with reading the Book of Mormon. They accepted the challenge presented to them by their stake leaders to read and then test Moroni’s promise that they can pray and know for themselves if the book is true. To help them reach their goal, their quorum leader, Mark Duffin, has helped the boys stay interested and motivated. “I want them to feel what they are reading instead of just getting through the pages.”

“At first I actually passed out tests, with questions chapter by chapter,” said Brother Duffin. “They loved it at first. When that wore thin, I had them come prepared to talk about a chapter. But I think the best thing we’ve done is having them over to my house on Sunday evening about once a month. We read together. We talk and discuss what we read. Then we have cake and ice cream. After an hour or so, I have to kick them out. They don’t want to go because they’re enjoying themselves.”