Gospel Story Finder

“OK! We’re going to play a game called ‘Quiz Show’! Question #1: Do you want to empty the dishwasher?”
“Um … no.”
“Bzzzt! Wrong answer! So sorry. Question #2: Would you like to empty the dishwasher and mow the lawn?”
“What?! No!”
“Bzzzt! Wrong again! Question #3: Would you like to empty the dishwasher, mow the lawn, and wash the car?”
“OK! I get it! Yes!”
“Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner!”
Clap! Clap! Clap!
Ryan Stoker

On a December night in 1982, my wife, Terry, and I were awakened by a phone call to our home in Pocatello, Idaho. As I answered the phone, I heard only sobbing. Finally, my sister’s struggling voice said, “Tommy is dead.”
A 20-year-old drunk driver, speeding at more than 85 miles (135 km) per hour, recklessly ran a stoplight in a suburb of Denver, Colorado. He crashed violently into the car driven by my youngest brother, Tommy, instantly killing him and his wife, Joan. They were returning home to a young daughter after a Christmas party.
My wife and I immediately flew to Denver and made our way to the mortuary. We gathered with my parents and siblings and grieved the loss of our beloved Tommy and Joan. We had lost them to a senseless criminal act. Our hearts were broken, and anger toward the young offender began to well up inside me.
Tommy had served as a lawyer in the United States Department of Justice and was on a course to be a strong advocate for protection of Native American lands and natural resources for years to come.
After some time had passed, a court sentencing hearing was held for the young man found responsible for vehicular manslaughter. In their ongoing grief and sorrow, my parents and oldest sister, Katy, attended the hearing. The drunk driver’s parents were also there, and after the hearing concluded, they sat on a bench and wept. My parents and sister were sitting nearby as they sought to gain control of their own emotions. After a moment, my parents and sister stood up and walked to the driver’s parents and offered them words of comfort and forgiveness. The men shook hands; the women held hands; there was deep sorrow and tears for all and a recognition that both families had suffered immensely. Mom, Dad, and Katy led the way with their quiet strength and courage and showed our family what forgiveness looks like.
That outreach of forgiveness in those moments caused my own heart to soften and opened a pathway to healing. Over time I learned how to have a forgiving heart. Only with the help of the Prince of Peace was my painful burden lifted. My heart will always miss Tommy and Joan, but forgiveness now allows me to remember them with unfettered joy. And I know we will be together again as a family.

Allow me to share a part of my tertiary educational journey, and I share not to boast but to show the goodness of God in my life as I placed my focus and faith on the Savior Jesus Christ. I use the words of one of my favorite Book of Mormon heroes, Ammon, in sharing my immense joy and where my strength comes from as he declared to his brother Aaron, “I do not boast in my own strength, nor in my own wisdom; but behold my joy is full, yea, my heart is brim with joy, and I will rejoice in my God. Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things.” [4]
Growing up my sister and I had been taught the importance of getting an education and to be independent. After completing my Diploma in Information Technology, my parents sat me down and explained that if I wanted to further my education, I would have to fund it myself. I am forever grateful to my parents for teaching and enabling me to “look [to the Savior] in every thought; doubt not, fear not.” [5]
I had the desire to complete my degree and I knew that I needed to “Trust... the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.” [6] I was scared, but I had faith in Jesus Christ that it would all work out.
At the time, I had started working at Church College Fiji as a part-time substitute teacher and part-time librarian. I felt directed to go to the bank to get a partial loan for the first semester at university. Like Nephi, I knew that if I was obedient and go and do, the Lord would prepare a way to accomplish the task. [7]
During my first semester an opportunity arose to tutor Korean students “English,” after my day job and before my evening classes. This opportunity provided me with additional income to supplement my substitute wages, pay off my loan, and save for the next semester’s tuition. When I started as a tutor I only had two students, and when I decided to stop two years later upon completing my bachelor's degree and ITEP teaching certificate, I had up to 12 students. The Lord had provided the way and given me the strength to endure my hectic schedule of work, tutoring, evening classes, completing assignments, dating, and fulfilling my Church calling.
All these were possible because I had been taught early in my youth to “seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.” [8]
Looking back, I have seen the tender mercies of a kind and loving Heavenly Father. The month I completed my bachelor's degree, I was offered a full-time position to teach Computer Studies at Church College Fiji. After two years of full-time employment and with the support of my family, I began my master's degree. Thus, began again the journey of finding balance and contentment in the late nights, getting readings and assignments done, work and family commitments, and Church activities.

When Heber J. Grant was 10 years old, he took a singing class.
Teacher: You can’t carry a tune, Heber. You’ll never learn how to sing.
Years later Heber heard Horace S. Ensign sing.
Heber: I would give you three months of my spare time if I could learn to sing one or two hymns!
Horace: Anyone can learn to sing. Are you willing to practice?
After two weeks, Heber had learned to sing “O My Father.” Two months later he could sing four other hymns.

More than 60 years ago, I served as a missionary in Austria and Switzerland. It was a challenging but wonderful time. I grew to love the people of that area of the world and felt reluctant to leave them. But my term of service ended in late August of 1939, and I made preparations to sail home.
After a long journey across the Atlantic Ocean, which was hazardous at that time because of the war, I rejoiced when I saw that wonderful beacon of freedom and democracy, the Statue of Liberty. I cannot express to you my relief when we finally reached that safe harbor.
I imagine I felt something of what the disciples of Jesus Christ felt on that day when they were with the Savior. They set sail upon the Sea of Galilee. The scriptures tell us that Jesus was weary, and He went to the back of the ship and fell asleep on a pillow. Soon the skies darkened, and “there arose a great tempest in the sea, insomuch that the ship was covered with the waves.” The storm raged. The disciples panicked. It seemed as though the boat would capsize, yet the Savior still slept. At last they could wait no longer, and they awakened Jesus. You can almost hear the anguish and despair in their voices as they pled with their Master, “Carest thou not that we perish?”
Many today feel troubled and distressed; many feel that at any moment the ships of their lives could capsize or sink. It is to you who are looking for a safe harbor that I wish to speak today, you whose hearts are breaking, you who are worried or afraid, you who bear grief or the burdens of sin, you who feel no one is listening to your cries, you whose hearts are pleading, “Master, carest thou not that I perish?” To you I offer a few words of comfort and of counsel.
Be assured that there is a safe harbor. You can find peace amidst the storms that threaten you. Your Heavenly Father, who knows when even a sparrow falls, knows of your heartache and suffering. He loves you and wants the best for you. Never doubt this. While He allows all of us to make choices that may not always be for our own or even others’ well-being, and while He does not always intervene in the course of events, He has promised the faithful peace even in their trials and tribulations.
The prophet Alma tells us, “And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.”
Jesus comforts us when He said: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”
Draw close to the Lord Jesus Christ. He bears a special love for those who suffer. He is the Son of God, an eternal king. In His mortal ministry He loved them and blessed them.
To the meek and discouraged, His every word was one of compassion and encouragement. To the sick, He brought a healing balm. Those who yearned for hope, who yearned for a caring touch, received it from the hand of this King of Kings, this Creator of ocean, earth, and sky.
Today Jesus the Christ stands at the right hand of our Heavenly Father. Do you suppose that today He is any less inclined to aid those who suffer, who are sick, or who appeal to the Father in prayer for succor?
Be of good cheer. The Man of Galilee, the Creator, the Son of the Living God will not forget nor forsake those whose hearts are drawn to Him. I testify that the Man who suffered for mankind, who committed His life to healing the sick and comforting the disconsolate, is mindful of your sufferings, doubts, and heartaches.
“Then,” the world would ask, “why does He sleep when the tempest rages all around me? Why does He not still this storm, or why would He let me suffer?”
Your answer may be found in considering a butterfly. Wrapped tightly in its cocoon, the developing chrysalis must struggle with all its might to break its confinement. The butterfly might think, “Why must I suffer so? Why cannot I simply, in the twinkling of an eye, become a butterfly?”
Such thoughts would be contrary to the Creator’s design. The struggle to break out of the cocoon develops the butterfly so it can fly. Without that adversity, the butterfly would never have the strength to achieve its destiny. It would never develop the strength to become something extraordinary.
President James E. Faust explained that “into every life there come the painful, despairing days of adversity and buffeting. There seems to be a full measure of anguish, sorrow, and often heartbreak for everyone, including those who earnestly seek to do right and be faithful.” And then the suggestion that the adversity we experience allows our souls to become like clay in the hands of the Master. “Trials and adversity,” President Faust taught, “can be preparatory to becoming born anew.”
Adversity can strengthen and refine us. As with the butterfly, adversity is necessary to build character in people. Even when we are called to sail through troubled waters, we need to know the place of adversity in shaping our divine potential.
If only we would look beyond our present suffering and see our struggles as a temporary chrysalis. If only we would have the faith and trust in our Heavenly Father to see how, after a little season, we can emerge from our trials more refined and glorious.
What parent would say to a child, “Learning to walk is such a painful and difficult experience. You will stumble; you will most likely hurt yourself; you will cry many times when you fall. I will protect you from the struggle.” I have watched our youngest grandson, Seth, as he was learning to walk. Through this process of gaining experience, he now walks with confidence. Could I have said to him, “Out of my love for you, I will save you from this”? If I had, because I could not bear to see him take a tumble at times, he may have never learned to walk. That is unthinkable for a loving parent or grandparent.
The child, if he or she is ever to walk, must pass through the stumbling and often painful process of learning. We encouraged Seth to learn through his experience. Yes, even knowing that the process would be difficult, we knew that the freedom and joy of walking would outweigh any temporary pain or adversity.
My brothers and sisters, what is mortality if not a long process like learning to walk? We must learn to walk in the ways of the Lord.
You are stronger than you think. Your Heavenly Father, the Lord and Master of the universe, is your Creator. When I think of it, it makes my heart leap for joy. Our spirits are eternal, and eternal spirits have immeasurable capacity!
Our Father in Heaven does not wish us to cower. He does not want us to wallow in our misery. He expects us to square our shoulders, roll up our sleeves, and overcome our challenges.
That kind of spirit—that blend of faith and hard work—is the spirit we should emulate as we seek to reach a safe harbor in our own lives.
Brothers and sisters, you are not alone. In The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints today, millions of people stand beside you. Those who follow the teachings and example of the Savior are “willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light; yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort.”
The question Cain asked of the Lord, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” has been answered by prophets in these latter days. “Yes, we are our brothers’ keepers,” President Thomas S. Monson has said. When we work together to benefit those in need, “we eliminate the weakness of one person standing alone and substitute the strength of many serving together. While we may not be able to do everything, we can and must do something.”
Bishops, home teachers, visiting teachers, and members of priesthood quorums and of Relief Societies and other auxiliary organizations all stand ready to help. The Savior’s teachings and the Church constitute our best safe harbor—yes, our most secure “refuge from the storm.”
Of course, your brothers and sisters in the Church are not to solve your problems for you. It has been my experience that when we do for others what they can and ought to do for themselves, we often weaken rather than strengthen them. But your brothers and sisters will be at your side to strengthen you, encourage you, and help you.
As you overcome adversity in your life, you will become stronger. Then you will be better able to help others—those who are working, in their turn, to find a safe harbor from the storms that rage about them.
When you feel tossed by the storms of life and when the waves rise and the winds howl, on those occasions it would be natural for you to cry in your heart, “Master, carest thou not that I perish?” When these times come, think back upon that day when the Savior awakened in the stern of the ship, rose up, and rebuked the storm. “Peace, be still,” He said.
At times we may be tempted to think the Savior is oblivious to our trials. In fact, the reverse is true; it is we who need to be awakened in our hearts to His teachings.
Use your ingenuity, your strength, your might to resolve your challenges. Do all you can do and then leave the rest to the Lord. President Howard W. Hunter said: “If our lives and our faith are centered on Jesus Christ and his restored gospel, nothing can ever go permanently wrong. On the other hand, if our lives are not centered on the Savior and His teachings, no other success can ever be permanently right.”
Living the gospel does not mean the storms of life will pass us by, but we will be better prepared to face them with serenity and peace. “Search diligently, pray always, and be believing,” the Lord admonished, “and all things shall work together for your good, if ye walk uprightly.”
Draw close to the Lord Jesus Christ. Be of good cheer. Keep the faith. Doubt not. The storms will one day be stilled. Our beloved prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley, has said: “We have nothing to fear. God is at the helm. … [And] He will shower down blessings upon those who walk in obedience to His commandments.”
In our own storms in life, the Savior is our solace and our sanctuary. If we seek peace, we must come unto Him. He Himself spoke this eternal truth when He said, “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” When our souls are anchored in the safe harbor of the Savior, we can proclaim as did Paul: “We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.”
The Prophet Joseph Smith, who knew much about the storms of life, during one of his darkest moments cried in anguish: “[My] God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place?” Even as he lifted up his voice, the serene comfort of the Lord came to him: “Peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment; and then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes.”
The gospel gives us that harbor of enduring safety and security. The living prophet and the apostles today are as lighthouses in the storm. Steer towards the light of the restored gospel and the inspired teachings of those who represent the Lord on earth.
I bear solemn testimony that Jesus is the living Christ, our Savior and Redeemer. He leads and directs His Church through our prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley. If we live by the Savior’s teachings, we will with surety find a safe harbor in this life and in the eternities to come. I testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I did not fully prepare him; I surprised him, and maybe I hurt him. I could not bring myself to say it so bluntly. So I explained, “I was a new member when Dad and I met and fell in love. I had heard an interfaith marriage could be hard, but no one explained it. I had not known any active, part-member families; maybe that should have been a warning to me? Anyhow, I just thought telling people to marry in the Church was prejudice. No one told me Dad should know more about the Church and my hopes, and it never occurred to me that I would feel so lonely going to church without him. I also did not realize how I could upset him by going to church.
“You see, when you’re planning to marry, you think you are going to have everything you already have, plus everything the other has. There just is not time, energy, or room enough for everything, and sometimes one of you does not want everything the other has to offer. Compromises have to be made. It’s not easy to compromise your beliefs and way of life.
“Anyhow, after a lot of experiments, Dad and I finally came to an adjustment. As the saying goes, ‘When life hands you a lemon, add the sweetener of love and make lemonade.’”
“Yes, Dad even went so far as to let you three go to church with me—after I was reactivated. Some nonmember dads would not be so generous. You have a very fine father.”

Last summer I met Sister Yvette Bugingo, who at age 11 fled from place to place after her father was killed and three of her brothers went missing in a war-torn part of the world. Yvette and the remaining family members eventually lived for six and a half years as refugees in a neighboring country until they were able to move to a permanent home, where they were blessed by a caring couple who helped with transportation, schools, and other things. She said they “were basically an answer to our prayers.” Her beautiful mother and adorable little sister are with us tonight, singing in the choir. I have wondered many times since meeting these wonderful women, “What if their story were my story?”

Isabel Faye Hills was excited for a very special birthday. On the day she turned eight, she was baptized and confirmed! At home in Goffstown, New Hampshire, Isabel’s family says she is a shining example of staying on the right track with hard work and a great laugh.
Isabel helped plan her baptism service, and she made the program herself. She was baptized by her dad and confirmed by her Grandpap Conklin.

“I adored my parents. They meant the world to me and taught me crucial lessons. I cannot thank them enough for the happy homelife they created for me and my siblings. And yet, even as a boy, I knew I was missing something. One day I jumped on the streetcar and went to a … bookstore to find a book about the Church. I loved learning about the gospel.

“As I came to understand the Word of Wisdom, I wanted my parents to live that law. So, one day when I was very young, I went to our basement and smashed on the concrete floor every bottle of liquor! I expected my father to punish me, but he never said a word.

“As I matured and began to understand the magnificence of Heavenly Father’s plan, I often said to myself, ‘I don’t want one more Christmas present! I just want to be sealed to my parents.’ That longed-for event did not happen until my parents were past 80, and then it did happen. I cannot fully express the joy that I felt that day (see Alma 26:16), and each day I feel that joy of their sealing and my being sealed to them.”1

During a religion class at Ricks College, I was teaching from section 25 of the Doctrine and Covenants, in which Emma Smith is told she should give her time “to writing, and to learning much” (D&C 25:8). About three rows back in the class sat a blond woman whose brow wrinkled as I urged diligence in developing writing skills. She raised her hand and said, “That doesn’t seem reasonable to me. All I’ll ever write are letters to my children.” That brought laughter.

Then a young man stood up, near the back. He had said little during the term. He was older than the other students, and he was shy. He asked if he could speak, then told in a quiet voice of being a soldier in Vietnam. One day he had left his rifle and walked across his fortified compound to mail call. Just as he got a letter in his hand, he heard a bugle blow and rifle fire coming in ahead of the swarming enemy. He fought his way back to his rifle, using his hands as weapons. With the men who survived, he drove the enemy out. The wounded were evacuated. Then he sat down among the living, and some of the dead, and opened the letter.

It was from his mother. She wrote that she’d had a spiritual experience that assured her he would live to come home if he would remain righteous. To my class, the boy said quietly, “That letter was scripture to me. I kept it.” And he sat down.

In Nairobi, Kenya, one couple had long struggled to find stable employment. The challenge to provide the necessities of life for their children was wearing on them both. There seemed to be nowhere to turn, as most of their friends and family members found themselves in the same predicament.

A recent convert to the Church, the husband learned about the free employment services available at the LDS Employment Center in Nairobi while he was at church one Sunday. He visited the center the following Monday. After attending several career and small-business workshops over the next few weeks, he felt confident he could be successful as an entrepreneur marketing his wife’s cooking. With the assistance of an employment specialist, they completed a detailed business plan and went to work.

In her small kitchen, the wife prepared delicious samosas and mandazis, local dishes that they sold outside a nearby office building for the morning meal. Their baskets were soon emptied and the morning’s earnings were used to purchase ingredients for the noonday meal.

Before long their business flourished and became so popular they were able to obtain a contract to provide meals for employees at a large office building. They were slowly able to save enough to purchase a refrigerator, a food-warming table, and other equipment to improve their business. This couple now find great satisfaction in being able to provide for their family. With the increased profits and demands, they have been able to hire others to help them, creating employment opportunities for others in their ward.

Now I would like to speak of the special meaning the temple has for me. Part of this message is going to be sensitive, so I will appreciate your prayers as I give it so that I do not become too emotional.
Fourteen years ago the Lord took my wife beyond the veil. I love her with all my heart, but I have never complained because I know it was His will. I have never asked why but rather what is it that He wants me to learn from this experience. I believe that is a good way to face the unpleasant things in our lives, not complaining but thanking the Lord for the trust He places in us when He gives us the opportunity to overcome difficulties.
Fourteen years ago the Lord decided it was not necessary for my wife to live any longer on the earth, and He took her to the other side of the veil. I confess that there are times when it is difficult not to be able to turn and talk to her, but I do not complain. The Lord has allowed me, at important moments in my life, to feel her influence through the veil.
I know that I will have the privilege of being with that beautiful wife, whom I love with all my heart, and with those children who are with her on the other side of the veil because of the ordinances that are performed in the temple. What a blessing to have once again on the earth the sealing authority, not only for this mortal life but for the eternities. I am grateful that the Lord has restored His gospel in its fulness, including the ordinances that are required for us to be happy in the world and to live everlastingly happy lives in the hereafter.

During the dark days of World War II, a 500-pound bomb fell outside the little home of Brother Patey, a young father in Liverpool, England, but the bomb did not go off. His wife had died, so he was rearing his five children alone. He gathered them together at this very anxious time for family prayer. They “all prayed … earnestly and when they had finished praying, the children said: ‘Daddy, we will be all right. We will be all right in our home tonight.’

“And so they went to bed, imagine, with that terrific bomb lying just outside the door half submerged in the ground. If it had gone off it would have destroyed probably forty or fifty houses and killed two or three hundred people. …

“The next morning the … whole neighborhood was removed for forty-eight hours and the bomb was finally taken away. …

“On the way back Brother Patey asked the foreman of the A.R.P. Squad: ‘Well, what did you find?’

“‘Mr. Patey, we got at the bomb outside of your door and found it ready to explode at any moment. There was nothing wrong with it. We are puzzled why it did not go off.’” Miraculous things happen when families pray together.

Gwendolyn’s Gifts by Patty Sheehan Queen Gwendolyn was bored. Every time she said so, King Cornelius told her, “Perhaps you need a change, my dear,” and ordered something new to be made for her. Finally she took matters into her own hands and learned how to make things for herself, and she was never bored again. King Cornelius learned a lesson from her, and became a gourmet cook. Perhaps you need a change, too, my dear?

Several years ago I attended a stake conference in Tonga. Sunday morning the three front rows of the chapel were filled with men between 26 and 35 years of age. I assumed they were a men’s choir. But when the business of the conference was conducted, each of these men, 63 in total, stood up as their names were read and were sustained for ordination to the Melchizedek Priesthood. I was both pleased and stunned.

After the session I asked President Mateaki, the stake president, how this miracle had been accomplished. He told me that in a stake council meeting reactivation was being discussed. His stake Relief Society president, Sister Leinata Va‘enuku, asked if it would be appropriate for her to say something. As she spoke, the Spirit confirmed to the president that what she was suggesting was true. She explained that there were large numbers of wonderful young men in their late 20s and 30s in their stake who had not served missions. She said many of them knew they had disappointed bishops and priesthood leaders who had strongly encouraged them to serve a mission, and they now felt like second-class members of the Church. She pointed out that these young men were beyond missionary age. She expressed her love and concern for them. She explained that all of the saving ordinances were still available to them and the focus should be on priesthood ordinations and the ordinances of the temple. She noted that while some of these young men were still single, the majority of them had married wonderful women—some active, some inactive, and some not members.

After thorough discussion in the stake council, it was decided that the men of the priesthood and the women of the Relief Society would reach out to rescue these men and their wives, while the bishops spent more of their time with the young men and young women in the wards. Those involved in the rescue focused primarily on preparing them for the priesthood, eternal marriage, and the saving ordinances of the temple. During the next two years, almost all of the 63 men who had been sustained to the Melchizedek Priesthood at the conference I attended were endowed in the temple and had their spouses sealed to them. This account is but one example of how critical our sisters are in the work of salvation in our wards and stakes and how they facilitate revelation, especially in family and Church councils.

Several years ago, I received a phone call from an elderly couple who had a desire to make a philanthropic contribution to BYU-Idaho. He in his 90s and she in her 80s, were a little leery of making the two-hour drive into Rexburg and asked if someone from our office could come visit them. I agreed to meet them at their home the following week. On the day that I drove to their home, I thought about what this visit would be like. We receive various kinds of gifts for BYU-Idaho, and we deal with people in all different situations in life. We even encourage faculty, staff and students to participate at whatever level they feel comfortable.

The key is just to participate. (By the way, you can all consider yourselves solicited now, so when our callers call you can say, well, Chris has already asked.) Sometimes it's as simple as a personal check. Often it's more complicated. Would today's visit with this couple bring a gift of cash, or perhaps a piece of their farm in the way of land, equipment, or livestock? Maybe they wanted to discuss various ways they could include BYU-Idaho in their will. Whatever it was, as you know, I was ready.

After a long drive and a few wrong turns, I finally found my way to their home. I pulled into the driveway, parked my car, and made my way to the door. The man of the house met me at the door. In his outreached hand was an old, worn-out, over-sized coat. His greeting to me was simple, "Here, put this on." Then with a smile and a slap on the back, he continued, "We don't want you to get dirty, now do we? Follow me."

Now, I'm no stranger to hard work or dirt. But I was a little curious to see where he was taking me. Over the next several hours, we moved his washer and dryer. We moved the refrigerator. We worked in his garage and in his garden. We pulled weeds and pruned trees. We spend time in his living room, where he showed me books he had written, pictures of vegetables that he had entered in the county fair and won blue ribbons. He even showed me a couple of rugs hanging on his wall, that also were county fair, blue ribbon winners.

During that time we talked about his life. I learned about a humble job, supplemented by a simple farm. I learned that he and his wife never had the opportunity to have children of their own, but welcomed into their home 26 foster children, several of which they would eventually adopt. No stranger to heartache or hard times, he talked about missions and his love for the gospel. The only time I saw the slightest bit of disappointment was when he talked about being recently released from a calling that he loved--that of Assistant Scout Master. In his words, "I just couldn't do the over-nighters anymore."

Finally, after I'm sure he thought I had worked hard enough, we sat down with his wife at the kitchen table. He pulled out his checkbook and wrote what I would consider to be a very substantial check to the University. That alone would have been a great story to tell you. However, that is not the story I'm supposed to tell. As he was writing this check, all I could think about were the trials that this man and his wife had faced over the years, yet they seemed so happy, so willing to serve. In the end, I couldn't help but to ask him how he stayed so positive throughout his life. He gave me a priceless grin, looked at his wife, looked back at me and simply said, "Brother Chris, I choose joy."

About two years ago, I received another call from that same elderly couple I mentioned earlier. They had moved to Idaho Falls to a nursing home. For the first time, the Brother seems a little anxious. There was a concern in his voice. He wanted to meet as soon as possible. When we arrived at their home, we quickly sat down and he quizzed us thoroughly. Would we promise them that his wife would be protected? Had he done enough to take care of her? Would we help oversee their funds to make sure that she would have enough? We assured him that he had been frugal and smart, that she would be fine. We promised that we would come and sit and talk, that we would always be there. When we were done, he didn't have to say it. But I'm sure I heard it. I'm certain he whispered, "Chris, my joy is full."

Two days later, he passed away. He fought his fight, and he chose joy.

In Tokyo, Japan, Natsuko Soejima doubted she could teach well. “When I was called to be a youth Sunday School teacher,” she says, “I told the bishop I would be scared. But he said the call was from God, so I accepted.”
As a group, the class intimidated her because of the individual challenges they presented. Two of the youth had hearing disabilities. Some class members who had moved to Japan from other countries spoke only English. She also feared the age difference between her and her class members.
Then, in a teacher council meeting, Sister Soejima found an answer. “We talked about loving each class member, learning their names, praying for them one by one, and teaching—guided by the Spirit—according to their needs,” she explains, “so that’s what I began to do.” She also did something else she’d learned in the council: “I used language that conveyed my love.”
The result? “My heart changed. I began to feel affection for my students. I cared about those who were missing and prayed for them too. As soon as one lesson ended, I started preparing for the next, to have time to think about teaching opportunities. I was overflowing with joy.”

This story took place in South Africa.
Lashia had a new baby brother. His name was Liam. He had dark hair and tiny hands and feet. He was so cute!
But sometimes having a new baby in the family was hard. Mum and Dad were always busy now. And Liam cried a lot.
“Mum, can you read me a story?” Lashia asked.
“I have to wash Liam in the tub,” Mum said. “Maybe you can read a story with Ariana.”
Lashia sat down on the floor with her little sister. They flipped through the pages of a book. But it wasn’t the same without Mum.
“Dad, will you play a game with me?” Lashia asked.
“I need to help Mum with the baby before I go to work,” Dad said.
Lashia frowned. Mum and Dad never had time for her now! They were always helping Liam.
Soon Dad left for work. Mum put Liam down for a nap. She sat with Lashia and Ariana on the couch. She looked tired.
“We’ve been very busy with Liam,” Mum said. “Have you been feeling a little lonely?”
Lashia nodded. She felt like she wanted to cry.
Mom hugged Lashia and Ariana. “Liam needs a lot of help right now because he’s so little. He can’t do anything by himself yet, like you can.”
“I know,” Lashia said.
“But if you want, you can help me take care of Liam.” Mum smiled.
“Really?” Lashia asked. She liked that idea.
“Me too?” asked Ariana.
“You too,” said Mum.
Soon Liam started crying. When Mum changed his diaper, Lashia brought her the wipes.
“Thank you,” Mum said.
The next day, when Liam had a bath, Lashia and Ariana picked out a clean outfit for him to wear. It had cute little animals on it! They brought it to Mum so she could dress Liam.
“Thank you,” Mum said.
Lashia and Ariana thought of other ways to help. They made their beds each morning without being asked. Sometimes they made Mum and Dad’s bed too! And when it was time for dinner, they helped Dad in the kitchen.
“Thank you,” Mum and Dad said.
When Liam cried, Lashia tried to help him feel better. She held him and talked to him in a soft voice. Liam couldn’t say thank you yet. But one day he smiled big at Lashia!
Lashia smiled back. She was glad she could help her baby brother and her mom and dad too!
How did Lashia help her family?
Illustrations by Shawna J. C. Tenney

Mom put bricks in the oven and then wrapped them in blankets so our feet would stay warm as we traveled in our car without a heater. It was 1935, and we were making the 60-mile (96 km) drive from Salt Lake City to Payson, Utah, to visit my grandparents in early December. The snow was falling lightly around us and swirled in what looked like little tornadoes on the road ahead. My big brother, Fred, and I were bundled in heavy coats and itchy wool socks and mufflers. The drive seemed endless to me as a seven-year-old.
We made this trip every December. The Christmas season didn’t really start until we were in Grandma and Grandpa Tanner’s warm kitchen making popcorn balls. Grandpa would stoke up the fire, and Grandma would fill a wire basket with popcorn and shake it vigorously over the fire until it filled with puffy, white corn. Then Grandma would pour hot honey butter over the popcorn in a big cast-iron kettle and mix in peanuts. When the mixture cooled, we would dig in with our butter-covered hands and make festive balls to share with family and friends.
This Christmas, however, would be different. Usually Fred and I rode in the backseat, but this year we were wedged between my parents on the bench seat up front. A small white coffin carrying the body of my one-year-old brother, Gerold, took up the backseat. A case of measles had turned into pneumonia and snuffed out his young life. Earlier we had gone to the mortuary to pick up the small wooden coffin.
As we made the two-hour journey, Dad led us in singing Christmas songs. Mom and Dad harmonized, and the beautiful music comforted us as we grieved the loss of our baby.
When we got to Grandpa’s house, the usually jovial crowd of family and relatives was waiting solemnly. The coffin was taken from the backseat and brought into Grandma’s spotless parlor. My grandparents’ bishop spoke a few kind words, and then we were back in the car to ride to the cemetery, where we all wept as this precious little boy was laid in the frozen ground.
Christmas did come. The fire was stoked, the popcorn was popped, and the festive popcorn balls were delivered on Grandpa’s horse-drawn sleigh. There was sadness that day but also a resonant peace as I listened to my faithful grandparents reading the story of Christ’s birth.
My grandparents had been born of pioneer parents who had laid many babies in the ground. As our family mourned our loss, we turned to where our ancestors had turned—to the Son of God and His words. I remembered the Christmas story with a different heart that year, for it was because of the baby born in a manger that the baby we had laid in the ground would rise again and be ours.
Many decades have passed since then, but each Christmas I still pour honey butter over popcorn, mix in peanuts, shape the mixture into balls, and remember.

I remember vividly an experience I had as a passenger in a small two-propeller airplane. One of its engines suddenly burst open and caught on fire. The propeller of the flaming engine was starkly stilled. As we plummeted in a steep spiral dive toward the earth, I expected to die. Some of the passengers screamed in hysterical panic. Miraculously, the precipitous dive extinguished the flames. Then, by starting up the other engine, the pilot was able to stabilize the plane and bring us down safely.

Throughout that ordeal, though I “knew” death was coming, my paramount feeling was that I was not afraid to die. I remember a sense of returning home to meet ancestors for whom I had done temple work. I remember my deep sense of gratitude that my sweetheart and I had been sealed eternally to each other and to our children, born and reared in the covenant. I realized that our marriage in the temple was my most important accomplishment. Honors bestowed upon me by men could not approach the inner peace provided by sealings performed in the house of the Lord.

That harrowing experience consumed but a few minutes, yet my entire life flashed before my mind. Having had such rapid recall when facing death, I do not doubt the scriptural promise of “perfect remembrance” when facing judgment (Alma 5:18; see also Alma 11:43).