Gospel Story Finder

Well, since you insist, I’ll just capture her royal majesty with my humble little black bishop.
No! No! No! No! My queen! Why didn’t I see that? I might as well resign now.
Don’t give up. You can still make a comeback.
Down a queen? Fat chance! You just want the pleasure of checkmating me.
Well, yes, that might be fun. But remember what Sister Simon said—it’s never too late to come back, although it may be hard.
She was talking about life. In chess, what’s done is done, and you just have to live with it.
Well, aren’t you glad it’s chess that’s hopeless and not life?
You have a point there.
So, what’s your move?
Hmmm. My rook is feeling very hungry, and I think it’s going to gobble up your tasty little unprotected pawn. There! Now what are you going to do about that?
Checkmate!
I had to ask.

His mother was baptized in 1951 and eventually moved to Provo, Utah, so her children could attend Brigham Young University. David was 18 when he arrived at BYU. During a visit to the health center, David mentioned to the doctor that he had been investigating the Church. The doctor asked for how long. “For two or three years,” replied David. The doctor looked at him and said, “If you don’t make decisions in time, time makes decisions for you.” The words lodged in his mind, and David decided to pray for an answer. He was baptized six weeks later.

My husband, John, was a big man. He stood six feet four inches (1.9 m) tall and weighed more than 200 pounds (90.9 kg). For him, air travel in economy class was uncomfortable at best, painful at worst.
In August 2006 we were called to serve a Church educational service mission at Brigham Young University–Hawaii. When it came time to return home, we were dreading what he would have to endure in the flight back to the mainland. During check-in we were delighted to find that there was one seat available in first class, so we upgraded his ticket. He would be able to sit in a comfortable seat with plenty of room for his long legs.
About midway through the flight, I decided to go see how he was doing. As I approached the first-class area, a flight attendant stood in the doorway to stop me.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Yes, I would like to see my husband for a moment,” I replied.
“I’m sorry,” she said pleasantly but firmly, “you can’t come up here.”
“But he’s my husband, and I just want to see him for a minute.”
Still barring the door, she again stated, “I’m sorry, but you are not allowed up here. I can give your husband a message, and if he would like to, he can come visit you. But the policy is that only first-class passengers can be in this area.”
I was taken aback for a moment, but seeing her persistence, I quietly returned to my seat in economy class.
I began to think about the three degrees of glory mentioned in the scriptures and by the prophets. We read that Christ will visit those in the terrestrial kingdom (see D&C 76:77), and administering angels will visit those in the telestial kingdom (see D&C 76:88), but those who are in the lesser kingdoms can never go up to the celestial kingdom (see D&C 76:112; see also D&C 88:22–24). Reflecting upon my experience, I felt that I just had a glimpse of what it might be like for those in the lower kingdoms. How would they feel upon hearing the words “I’m sorry, you can’t come up here”?
About five months later my husband passed away from cancer. My experience on the airplane gives me extra incentive to live so that I never have to hear those words again—at least not on the other side of the veil.

A boy named Stan related the following experience to me. One summer afternoon his younger brother was involved in an accident that left him paralyzed from the waist down. Immediately after the accident, friends of both boys, as well as ward members, were very supportive and attentive. Within a few weeks, however, the visits and offers to help became fewer and fewer. Before long Stan, his brother, and other members of the family felt isolated because of the tragedy. A few short weeks were simply not enough time for them to come to terms with the new and difficult realities that confronted them individually and as a family. Continued support from caring friends would have been truly appreciated.

I glanced at the quarter in my hand and then eyed the 10-foot distance to the cement wall. The other kid’s quarter had landed about six inches from the wall. Another good shot. He’d already won my first quarter last round. Now I had to win it back—and hopefully win an additional quarter from him in the third round.
You see, I wanted a soda with my lunch. And sodas cost 75 cents, which was 25 cents more than I had left after buying lunch at our junior high school cafeteria. Hence the contest.
I tossed my last quarter as skillfully as I could. I hoped for a lucky bounce that would put it closer to the wall than my opponent’s, thereby making me the winner.
Nope. My fiendish coin hit the wall hard. I watched as it rolled back farther than my opponent’s. He smirked and scooped up the spoils.
“Better luck next time,” he said.
It would be an entire school year before it occurred to me that if I’d simply saved my change after lunch, I could’ve bought a soda two days out of every three. At the time, though, the idea of turning two quarters into three or more with no effort was too enticing. I lost a lot of quarters that year.

Brad is ten years old and attends Primary every Sunday. He loves to sing the Primary songs, and he thinks about their messages.
One day, the Primary president told his class that they were planning a special program for the Primary children to give in sacrament meeting. She wanted the boys in Brad’s class to sing a song on the program. The other boys in the class said that they didn’t want to sing. Because his mom was a counselor in the Primary presidency, Brad knew the planning and preparing that were going into this program. He also knew that the Primary president was a special helper of Jesus Christ and that if He had asked Brad to sing, he certainly would say yes. So he raised his hand and said, “I’ll sing the song alone then!”
The Primary president was very pleased.
When he got home, his mom said, “Brad, you’ve never sung alone before—and in front of so many people! Won’t you be scared?”
Brad said that he would be very scared but that he knew that it was important to do what our leaders ask us to do.
The day of the program arrived, and Brad sat on the stand, waiting for his turn on the program. When he knew that he would be next, he became very frightened. Wondering if any sound would come out of his mouth when he started to sing, he said a little prayer. So did his mom, his dad, his sister, his brother, and the Primary president.
When he stood up to sing, the first words were a little shaky. Then, as he thought of the words he was singing, his voice became stronger and stronger:
“Dare to do right! …” (Yes, he thought, I’m doing the right thing.)
“Dare to be true! …” (I will be true to the teachings of Jesus.)
“You have a work that no other can do; …” (The Primary president asked us to sing.)
“Do it so bravely, so kindly, so well, …” (I’m not quite as scared now—and he sang with all his heart.)
“Angels will hasten the story to tell.” (My prayer is being answered, and everyone is listening to the words I’m singing.)
When he sang the second verse, he wasn’t scared anymore at all, and the words came out loud and full of meaning:
“Dare to do right! Dare to be true!
“Other men’s failures can never save you.
“Stand by your conscience, your honor, your faith;
“Stand like a hero and battle till death.
“Dare, dare, dare to do right;
“Dare, dare, dare to be true,
“Dare to be true, dare to be true.”*
Brad finished the song and sat down. He had a good feeling inside. He looked at the Primary president, then at his mom and dad. They all had tears in their eyes. His sister and brother were smiling, and he was sure that Jesus was smiling, too.

In his first address as Church President, he spoke sorrowfully of the ridicule and persecution Latter-day Saints had suffered. “The Lord designs to change this condition of things,” he prophetically announced, “and to make us known to the world in our true light—as true worshipers of God” whose “mission in this world is to do good, to put down iniquity under our feet, to exalt righteousness, purity, and holiness in the hearts of the people, and to establish in the minds of our children, above all other things, a love for God and his word, that shall be in them as a fountain of light, strength, faith and power.”25
He promised the Saints if they would live nearer to the Lord, they would enjoy a greater outpouring of the Spirit. He then entreated them to feel “in your hearts and from the depths of your souls to forgive one another, and never from this time forth … bear malice toward another fellow creature.”26 He lived this counsel, refusing to allow repeated attacks upon his character to make him bitter and vindictive. “The spirit of the world is vicious,”27 he said, as he advised the Saints to prize the fruits of the Holy Spirit: “love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance” (Gal. 5:22–23).
Antagonistic journalists made him the brunt of vilifying articles and defaming cartoons. His daughter Edith Eleanor recalled: “Some of the people at school had in their possession false reports and lies about Father. I went home from school furious one day. As soon as Father came in that evening I said to him, ‘Papa, why don’t you do something? You’re not doing one thing, and these mean men are taking advantage of you, printing all these lies.’” Her father smiled and said, “‘Baby, don’t get upset. They are not hurting me one bit; they are only hurting themselves. Don’t you know, Baby, that when someone tells a lie they are only hurting themselves more than anyone else?’”28

As they worked and served together, the feeling in the Eagle Valley Ward changed. Sadness faded as they found joy in service.
A few years ago, the Eagle Valley Ward in Colorado, USA, experienced many trials of faith. Multiple members of the ward were dying, and their families needed strength and support. The ward could have been overshadowed by feelings of sadness but instead found joy in ministering.
“We were carried through by serving others,” said Karie Grayson, the Relief Society president at the time. One day, while visiting the home of an ill sister, Sister Grayson received a revelation on how to uplift this sister with the love of her ward.
“As my presidency and I sat there in the room visiting with her, we were each thinking, ‘What more can we do?’” said Sister Grayson. “An idea came to me. I knew right then and there what we should do.”
This sister loved flowers, so the ward brought life to her overgrown flower garden. Every Tuesday morning, members of the ward showed up to care for the garden.
Excitement to serve grew not only in the Eagle Valley Ward but also in the community. Individuals and companies throughout the area helped provide dirt, flowers, and a watering system.
“I feel like what we did was directed by Heavenly Father,” said Sister Grayson “There was a lot of work to be done, but there was a lot of laughter with everybody together. It was so fun.”
As they worked and served together, the feeling in the Eagle Valley Ward changed. Sadness faded as they found joy in service.
Bishop Greg Adair said, “As we all participated together, the ward started to feel like a family. This period of time was a trial for our ward, but we came together and helped one another.”
Sister Grayson said the ward bonded through service not because they had to but because they wanted to. And as they did, they found healing in their own struggles. “There was a powerful feeling in the ward,” she said. “When you change the hearts of individuals in the ward, you change the heart of the ward.”
Members of the Eagle Valley Ward were “willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light … and comfort those that stand in need of comfort” (Mosiah 18:8–9).
“Serving together brings you closer,” said Bishop Adair. “It was easy to minister because we all knew each other well. Christ teaches us to love God and our neighbor, and as we try to do whatever calling we are asked to do, we knit ourselves together in love.”

A few years later, I attended college in a small college town in Virginia. In the 1960’s, there were not many LDS members or church meeting houses in the rural part of Virginia. The closest branch to my campus was 60 miles away. Most of you are too young to know what the 60’s was like. As a nineteen-year old, I had plenty of opportunities to become part of the drug, anti -war, anti-establishment and anti-government culture. I was again watched over by a few LDS students who would encourage me and arrange rides for me to attend church on Sundays. Through the kind acts of these young members, I was able to stay on the strait and narrow path in times of great turmoil and trepidation.

Dan’s thoughts turned to a story a favorite bishop had told him, something which had happened on another Christmas Eve many years ago. His bishop had been a soldier in basic training. It had looked as though there might be no Christmas leave—had looked as though Private Benjamin Clark would have to spend Christmas far from his friends and loved ones.
And then at the last minute had come the welcome orders: Seven days’ Christmas leave, effective immediately.
It had been too late for Ben to make plane reservations—too late to catch a bus out of Monterey. It had been too late to ride home with other Church members from the camp—too late to do anything but walk to the highway and try to get a ride from passing motorists.
A truckdriver named “Red” with a load of California produce had picked up Ben and carried him east into Nevada. He had joined his baritone voice with Red’s Irish tenor, and they had sung up all the Christmas songs either of them had known.
And then in Nevada he had stood in the cold for so long, waiting for a ride north and home. There never was much traffic on that stretch of road—and on a late Christmas Eve night, well …
But at last a car, headlights shining through the dark, had appeared, had slowed, had pulled to a stop, had picked him up. Thank goodness they had been going his way and said they could take him almost all the way to his home town.
Dan recalled how the bishop had described what came next: It was not until he and his army bag were in the back seat and the car had been moving that the young soldier realized the three young men in the front seat were drunk—and getting drunker. They had offered Ben a drink from their bottle and had been offended when he declined.
The young soldier in the back seat had become alarmed. The driver had been much too drunk; the car had been going much too fast; the car radio had been much too loud. A feeling of darkness, of foreboding had filled Ben’s mind as he considered his situation.
Finally, he had said it: “Please! Stop the car! I want to get out!”
The reply had been loud laughter from the front seat. “You hang on, soldier boy, because we’re not stopping for nobody and nothing.”
For several fearful kilometers Ben had listened to the sound of the tires on the highway, the loud music on the radio, the reckless talk and the loud laughter from the front seat. He had endured the strong smell of cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey all around him.
With each kilometer, he had feared more for his life. In his fear, he had turned to prayer. “Heavenly Father, I’m in bad trouble, and I don’t see how I can get out of it. Please help me. Please protect me and preserve my life. Heavenly Father, I’m afraid, and I really need thy help. …”
Dan could recall his bishop’s very words: “And then had come a very quiet, very peaceful prompting telling me to get down on the floor of the car and put my heavy army bag over me.”
He had done so immediately. In the narrow space between the front seat and the back, Ben had hunched down, had wedged himself in tightly, had pulled the weight of the bag over onto his back. Then he had put his forehead on the floor and his hands over his head.
A few minutes later seemed like the end of the world. There had been the sound of screaming tires, the wild swerving of the car out of control—and the jolting, jarring, impact of two high-speed vehicles coming together.
Much later, the young Latter-day Saint soldier had regained consciousness. He had found himself in a black world where he could move neither arms nor legs nor head. There had seemed to be no up nor down, no left nor right, nothing to help orient him. Nothing had stirred within the dead car—except for the smells of gasoline and of vomited whiskey—of sudden death in what had been a front seat.
Perhaps an hour had passed before a big truck had pulled to a stop at the remote accident site. Two truckers had radioed the police for help, surmised that no one in either car could have survived such total destruction.
But the police had discovered otherwise. Along with the dead couple in one car and the three dead teenage boys in the other, they had found and then rescued Private Benjamin Clark.
“Young man,” one trooper had said, “you aren’t too good at picking folks to ride with, but I suspect someone is looking over you and protecting you. I hope you do something good with your life, because you owe Him one. Only God could have brought you through this night with not one scratch on your body.”

A true story from Denmark.
Amalie loved to be a helper. She helped Mom put plates on the table. She helped Dad find his shoes. And she said the prayer at family scripture time.
Every Sunday, Amalie’s family went to church. Mom played the piano. Her older sister, Emma, held the door for everyone. Dad said the announcements. Her older brother, Alexander, passed the sacrament. Everyone got to help at church.
Everyone except her!
Amalie knew that Jesus Christ helped everyone He met. She wanted to help like He did! But she couldn’t play the piano. She couldn’t help with the announcements either. She felt a little sad. Maybe she would get to help when she was older.
One day before church, the branch president came up to Amalie. He smiled “Would you pass out the hymnbooks?” he asked.
Amalie smiled back. “Yes!”
Carefully, she took a stack of green hymnbooks off a shelf. She put a book on each seat.
When church started, everyone opened their hymnbooks. Amalie felt so happy. She had helped them all so they could sing together!
From then on, everyone in Amalie’s family helped at church. Mom played the piano. Emma held the door. Dad said the announcements. Alexander passed the sacrament. And Amalie put the hymnbooks on the seats.
Amalie felt happy that she could help Heavenly Father. She knew He wanted her to help like Jesus did.
Illustrations by Dave Williams

In 1862, six-year-old Clara Leonard lived in the town of Farmington, Utah, where more than 150 pioneer families had settled. There were log homes, rock homes, and adobe homes. They had a schoolhouse, a courthouse, and a mill for grinding wheat. But they did not have a church house. They needed a place to sing and pray.
Sometimes they held church meetings in one of the homes, but there wasn’t enough room for everyone.
Sometimes they held church meetings in the schoolhouse, but it wasn’t big enough, either.
Sometimes they held church meetings in the upper room of the adobe courthouse, but the county officials decided it could no longer be used for religious meetings.
They needed a place to sing and pray.
A lovely place, right on Main Street, was chosen as the site to build their chapel. It was next to Brother Haight’s house and hotel and across the street from Brother Penrose’s house. It would be a wonderful place for a chapel. But the church members had no money to buy building materials.
Everyone in town donated all they could to the building fund. Clara and her family worked hard to earn some extra money to give to Bishop Hess. But after all the money was counted, the building fund had only twelve dollars. They needed much more to build a beautiful place to sing and pray.
The people held a prayer meeting. They knelt and asked the Lord what to do. They had done all they could, and now they needed His help. They had faith that the Lord would know what was best.
A few days later there was a huge storm. It rained and rained. There was mud everywhere. The wind blew very hard, and some trees fell down. Clara had to stay inside all day long.
The next morning, when the storm was over, the men from the town found a rockslide about three blocks from the church lot. Tons of large rocks had slid down from the mountain. Not far from the rockslide was a place where lots of sand and gravel had washed down from the mountain, too.
There was enough rock to build a chapel! The sand and gravel could be used to make the mortar to hold the rocks together. They knew the Lord had heard their prayers and blessed them. They soon would have a place to sing and pray!
Everyone in town helped build the chapel. Some of the men hauled the rocks with ox teams. Some of the men laid the rocks to make the walls. Others worked as carpenters on the inside of the chapel, while still others made benches and tables. Even the children helped by carrying drinking water or serving food prepared by the Relief Society sisters. The chapel was 40 feet wide and 60 feet long. The stone walls were three feet thick.
As they worked, they were able to raise the rest of the money needed to complete their chapel. After two years of construction, the building was finally finished. On 9 January 1864, President Brigham Young and Elder Wilford Woodruff of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles came to Farmington to dedicate the building. Even though there was a thick blanket of snow on the ground, it was a day of jubilee and rejoicing. After the dedication, the town’s brass band played, and everyone celebrated.
At last they had a place to meet. Clara loved to go to church. She felt a sweet spirit of reverence there and found joy in hearing her leaders teach the gospel of Jesus Christ. The sacrament was passed—the bread on silver trays and the water in a tall silver cup with handles on both sides. A piano was donated, and later they got an organ. It was a wonderful place to sing and pray!

My life was changed by a saintly patriarch. He married his sweetheart. They were deeply in love, and soon she was expecting their first child.
The night the baby was born, there were complications. The only doctor was somewhere in the countryside tending to the sick. After many hours of labor, the condition of the mother-to-be became desperate. Finally, the doctor was located. In the emergency, he acted quickly and soon the baby was born, and the crisis, it appeared, was over. But some days later, the young mother died from the very infection that the doctor had been treating at another home that night.
The young man’s world was shattered. As the weeks wore on, his grief festered. He thought of little else, and in his bitterness he became threatening. Today, no doubt, he would have been pressed to file a malpractice suit, as though money would solve anything.
One night a knock came at his door. A little girl said simply, “Daddy wants you to come over. He wants to talk to you.”
“Daddy” was the stake president. The counsel from that wise leader was simply “John, leave it alone. Nothing you do about it will bring her back. Anything you do will make it worse. John, leave it alone.”
This had been my friend’s trial. How could he leave it alone? A terrible wrong had been committed. He struggled to get hold of himself and finally determined that he should be obedient and follow the counsel of that wise stake president. He would leave it alone.
He said, “I was an old man before I understood and could finally see a poor country doctor—overworked, underpaid, run ragged from patient to patient, with little medicine, no hospital, few instruments, struggling to save lives, and succeeding for the most part. He had come in a moment of crisis, when two lives hung in the balance, and had acted without delay. I finally understood!” He said, “I would have ruined my life and the lives of others.”
Many times he had thanked the Lord on his knees for a wise priesthood leader who counseled simply, “John, leave it alone.”

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.

Sister Thelma Bonham deJong, of Provo, Utah, once endured a difficult time when her husband was dying of cancer and her own health was failing. “Only the good Lord knows the weight of the burdens I carried for months,” she said. “Always with a prayer in my heart, I pleaded with Him to give me the courage to face my problems in a valiant manner and with dedication give my best to the end. Without His constant help, I could never have given devoted service to my beloved husband in the long months of his illness. God hears and answers prayers.”

At the same time, 10 miles to the south, Raul Hernandez and his wife, Anna Maria, have just finished preparing their martial arts studio for an evening class. A Liahona magazine adorns the counter adjacent to chairs and a bench where parents make themselves comfortable as their sons and daughters head to the studio’s colorful padded floor.

As different as the Hernandez and Yoshida businesses are from each other, they have something important in common. They owe their success, at least partially, to principles taught through the Church’s self-reliance initiative.

Raul Hernandez began martial arts training when he was only 6 years old. By age 13, he was teaching others, and by age 17, he had opened his first martial arts studio in Mexico.

“At first, I didn’t know if a self-reliance course would help us,” Raul says of his studio in El Paso. “But our business wasn’t going great, and I didn’t know what to do to improve it. I thought, ‘What can I do without having to spend more money?’”

Thanks to the same course attended by fellow ward member Julio Yoshida, Raul and his wife, Anna Maria, developed some great ideas. They used those ideas to improve their business organization, bookkeeping, professionalism, and advertising.

“We began to promote our business on Facebook,” Raul says. “It turned out great. All of our new clients now come from Facebook.”

Another important idea they received from the course was how to better use their gym.

“We were using the gym for classes only three hours in the evening, Monday through Friday, but we pay rent on it for the whole day,” Brother Hernandez says. “I’m an architect, but I don’t always have work, so my mornings are often free. After I started the self-reliance course, I began to pray about the training we were receiving.”

Those prayers were answered when, “through the guidance of the Spirit,” Raul felt impressed to begin using his gym during morning hours to offer classes on weight-loss management and to give therapeutic massage, which he is trained in.

“I’ve taken other courses designed to help me with my business, but the Church’s self-reliance course is different because of its spiritual part,” he says. “The most important thing we got out of the course was the Lord’s help through the Spirit. The course brings His blessings.”

“The most important thing we got out of the course,” say Raul and Anna Maria Hernandez, “was the Lord’s help through the Spirit.”

Photographs by Mark Davis
Ever dream about your future career? You know, what you’ll do when you head out on your own, become an adult, and realize it’s time to earn your own living? And what do you want to do when you get there? Fly planes? Create video games? Play professional football? How about acting in movies? How about making your own movies?
That’s exactly what Kamila T. of New York, USA, 16, hopes to do. That’s why she’s enrolled in a school of art and design. Kamila doesn’t just like watching movies; she loves making them too. But she knows that if she wants to make a living at it, she’s going to have to learn a few things and get to work right now. No matter how young you are, you can start thinking about your future. As it says in For the Strength of Youth, “Set high goals for yourself, and be willing to work hard to achieve them” ([2011], 40).
Kamila’s love for making movies started when she was 12. “My friends and I used iMovie on a tablet to make funny movies,” she said. “I became interested in it then. I started making films for my school and really enjoyed it.”
Pretty soon Kamila decided she wanted to pursue film in high school. But most high schools don’t have a strong film program, so she started looking around.
She explained, “When I originally heard about the school of art and design, I didn’t want to go. But my dad wanted me to. He has a lot of friends who are in film, and he thought it would be a good decision for my career. He said it was the best school for film. So I visited the school to check it out and really liked it.”
Liking the school was one thing, but getting accepted was another thing altogether.
“I had to audition in front of the teacher,” Kamila said. “It was really hectic, because I had to create two storyboards [outlines of her film ideas] to present. I wasn’t prepared on the first day like everyone else, so I had to go on the second day. On the way there we got a little lost, and I was late. My mom told me not to worry and to call my dad. I did, and he said a prayer with me over the phone. It was nice.”
Kamila calmed down and presented her storyboards. The result? She was accepted into the program, and she just started her third year there.
For Kamila, studying film has been amazing. Recently her class created a public service announcement for a competition. Experiences like that have helped her see what she can achieve.
But going to her school also comes with sacrifice. It’s an hour and a half commute each way. Plus, “All the other kids in my area go to a normal high school with football fields and other sports,” she said. “My school is different because everyone’s interested in the arts. But going there has also prepared me for things in life. I know how to take the train and how to get around on my own.”
At the same time, Kamila knows that making a living as a filmographer—especially for one holding LDS standards—can present challenges. So she’s kept her mind open to other interesting options.
“In English class we learned about psychology, and I really liked it,” she said. “My mom is going back to school, getting a minor in psychology and a major in teaching. So she shares with me what’s she’s learning. I still want to follow film, but psychology is my backup. Or finding a way to combine film and psychology would be great.”
Kamila is developing her gifts and talents for a career and independence—and a future family. “I hope to get married in the temple and be a mom one day,” she said. “I believe that by developing my talents like psychology and film, I would be able to have more open communication with my family.”
As prophets have counseled: “Heavenly Father has given you gifts and talents and knows what you are capable of achieving. Seek His help and guidance as you work to achieve your goals” (For the Strength of Youth, 40).
For other youth trying to figure out their goals and future plans for education, jobs, and family, Kamila had this advice: “Follow your dreams. Do what most interests you. It’s not a status thing or an obsession—it’s doing something you’ve always wanted to do, the thing you really want to be in the back of your mind. You can do it!”

Sister Chen is now battling a new disease and the aftereffects of a minor heart attack. Twenty years after first asking God why He had left her, she found herself asking the same question—and receiving the same answer. “Haven’t I already told you?” she felt Him say. “You still have temple work to do.”
So Sister Chen continues to spend one week per month at the temple.
“These are things we have to do for our ancestors that they cannot do for themselves,” she says. “With my situation, I don’t have the time commitments that others have with work and such. I need to work hard now while I can.”

Sainimere Balenacagi of Fiji learned this lesson as a teenager when she was attending a wedding with some friends who were not members of the Church. Many people there, including Sainimere’s friends, were drinking and smoking and invited her to drink. “I was taught my whole life to live the gospel standards, so I rejected the offer without hesitation,” Sainimere says.

She knows that the blessings of adhering to the Word of Wisdom go beyond physical health: “I have found extra protection in the sense that I am able to make better choices because of the closeness of the Holy Spirit. I see clearly that standards do not restrict our freedom; they protect us from consequences that lead to restricted freedom.”

Pam, a sister who had not been active in the Church for years, found this to be true as she struggled daily to change her life and repent of past mistakes that weighed heavily upon her mind. As she earnestly sought the companionship of the Holy Ghost, she was able to pray with greater purpose and to keep the Lord’s commandments. Because of her faith, hope, and repentance, the Holy Ghost touched and changed her life, eventually leading her to receive temple blessings.