Gospel Story Finder

When I was called to Tahiti on my mission, I remember thinking, “What am I going to do there?”
I was a new member of the Church. I didn’t know a lot about the gospel. I hadn’t read the Book of Mormon cover to cover, though I knew it was true. And I would have to learn two languages: Tahitian and French.
I felt inadequate.
Thankfully, I had two things going for me: I knew how to work, and I knew how to obey. Knowing how to work came from my father; knowing how to obey came from the gospel.
So when I got to my mission, I worked hard and I obeyed. As a result, the Lord blessed me with some wonderful experiences, and He taught me to rely on the Spirit. In the process, He also taught me patience, because I was not the most patient missionary. If I had a senior companion who didn’t want to work hard, even though I was the junior companion, I would say, ‘C’mon, let’s go! We’ve got to work!’”
When I became a senior companion, I thought, “Finally, I’ve arrived. I can control the work now.”
But my mission president assigned me a companion who didn’t want to work. By that point in my mission, thankfully, I had learned enough that I knew I had to love my companion, be kind to him, and be patient with him. I knew I couldn’t push him.
One night in the little village of Fare on the island of Huahine, we were at an investigator’s home. Instead of teaching, my companion was playing a board game with a family member and I was sitting there alone, feeling that nobody wanted to listen to me. It was my first assignment as a senior companion, and I felt that I was failing.
As I was having these thoughts and feelings, an outpouring of the Spirit came into my heart. I knew I was not alone. That stayed with me the whole night—not just for a moment. When I awoke the next morning, the feeling was still with me. I knew Heavenly Father loved me. I knew He cared about me. I knew He was with me. Knowing that gave me the strength I needed.
That was a key experience for me. My mission president knew that I needed to have experiences that would humble me and help me recognize my dependence on the Spirit. From that point on I had an incredible mission.

My family investigated the Church for three years. It was very important to my parents that we be baptized as a family. They knew if we joined the Church, it would often be difficult for us to choose the right. But they believed if we all decided to follow Jesus Christ, we could help each other when times grew difficult.
When we joined the Church, my parents committed our family to sacrifice and service. I saw that helping other people made my mom and dad happy. My parents were always serving, so I followed them around and tried to help, too. I was often too young to do much, but my parents’ example of service inspired in me a lifelong desire to serve.

“Hey, look!” Kate picked up a crumpled paper doll from the floor in the store. “Here, put it in your pocket.”
“You want me to take it?” Maddy asked.
“The store can’t sell it anyway,” Kate said. “They’d just throw it in the trash. This is a rescue mission. We’re saving this doll!”
Kate smiled at Maddy. Maddy smiled back.
“OK.” Maddy slipped the paper doll into her pocket. It felt special to be on a rescue mission!
Still, as they walked out of the store, the paper doll felt like a heavy rock in her pocket. Is that what a rescue mission was supposed to feel like?
When they got back to Maddy’s house, Kate carefully taped and flattened the paper doll the best she could.
“What kind of clothes should I make for her?” she asked, picking up a crayon. “How about a beautiful ball gown?”
Maddy nodded eagerly. “Then we can show my mom!”
“No! We can’t tell anyone,” Kate said. “Not ever. It’s our secret, OK? Promise me you won’t tell.”
“Oh … OK. I promise,” Maddy said. “But why can’t we tell?”
“If you tell, your mom would get mad, and she might not let us play together anymore.”
“Why would she be mad?” Maddy asked. Her stomach felt fluttery and nervous.
Kate put down her crayon. “If you don’t tell, I’ll let you keep the doll and all the outfits I draw for her.”
Now Maddy knew why she felt so nervous. “We … we stole it, didn’t we?” she whispered.
“Hey, you’re the one who stuffed it in your pocket and sneaked it out of the store.”
“Because you told me to!”
“I did not!” Kate said. “I’m going home before you get me in trouble.” She stood up and ran out the door.
Just then Mom came into the room. “Why did Kate leave in such a hurry?” She saw the paper doll in Maddy’s hands. “And where did that come from?”
Maddy bit her lip. She didn’t feel good about keeping a secret from Mom. But what if Kate was right and Mom got mad?
The nervous feeling in her stomach wouldn’t go away. She took a deep breath and blurted out the whole story.
“Kate told me to promise to keep it a secret,” she said. “But it felt wrong.”
Mom sat beside her on the bed. “Most secrets are wrong. Especially if you’re told to never tell anyone. On the other hand, a surprise, like a gift or party, can be a good thing. It’s meant to be fun for everyone.”
Maddy nodded. “Thanks for not getting mad at me,” she said. “Kate said you would.”
Mom hugged her tight. “I’m really proud of you for listening to the Holy Ghost and telling me the truth.”
“Will you drive me back to the store to return the doll?” Maddy asked.
“Of course!” Mom smiled. “And when we get back, you can help me make a cake to surprise Dad.”
Maddy laughed. “Now that’s something I can feel good about!”

I’m under pressure, like most British students—especially during exams. Since I’m LDS (East Grinstead Ward, Crawley England Stake), I’m supposed to take time for scripture study, too. It can seem like one thing too many. But this summer, as I was sitting A-levels (taking finals), I discovered how much scriptures mean to me. We had been building up to these exams the last five years, and studying specifically for them for the last two years. It was like life stopped almost. I spent all my time revising (studying), working really hard.
Art is my favorite subject, and I had lots and lots of assignments to submit by a certain date. I had 20 hours before they had to be handed in, and I still had a lot of work to do. I’d been ill for a week, so I was way behind. I was staying up all night, and at two o’clock in the morning, the work I was doing was deteriorating to the point that it was really bad. I had put a lot of work into the whole exam, and if I didn’t hand it in the next day, I would fail automatically.
Over the last week, I’d been reading the Book of Mormon every night. I’d never, of my own initiative, started reading the scriptures like that. For some reason I just thought it was about time I did. I’d reached the point where I really enjoyed them. They became easy to understand.
By now it was three in the morning. I was tired and couldn’t work anymore. I prayed that I would be able to finish the next morning, that I would have the strength and that my work would be to my best potential. I read my scriptures before I went to bed.
The next morning, after early-morning seminary, I spent the whole time painting. I should have been tired, but I wasn’t. I was amazed because the work I was doing was just so much higher than my normal standard.
I have a solid testimony now that if you make time for the spiritual things in life, it will help in all areas. I set a goal that throughout the exams, I’d read the scriptures as regularly as possible. Because of the work you have to do, you may be inclined to forget seminary, forget Mutual, forget everything because you have to study. I think keeping up with all your Church goals really helps more than you realize. I felt I had the Spirit with me constantly. It was a good experience for me.

Isabelle loved to pray! In the morning she said a “good morning” prayer. She thanked Heavenly Father for the sunshine and a new day.
At lunchtime Isabelle told Heavenly Father about her day so far. She prayed for help to be nice to her sisters when they got home from school.
At bedtime Isabelle’s family prayed together. They always started by talking about people who might need extra blessings.
Tonight Daddy said, “Please pray for Uncle Dan. He lost his job.”
Isabelle felt sad. She didn’t know a lot about grown-up work, but she knew that losing a job was bad. She loved her uncle. He made yummy popcorn. And last time he came over, he had showed her how to do a cartwheel!
“I’ll pray for him to find a job,” Maria said. She was one of Isabelle’s older sisters. It was her turn to pray out loud for the family.
The next day, Isabelle asked Daddy if Uncle Dan found a job yet.
“Not yet,” Daddy said. “Sometimes prayers aren’t answered right away.”
“So should we keep praying for him?” Isabelle asked.
Daddy nodded. “That would mean a lot to Uncle Dan.”
Every day, Isabelle and her sisters kept praying for Uncle Dan. They prayed for him to find a job. They prayed for him to have enough money for what he needed. They prayed for him to feel loved.
Isabelle was glad she could help Uncle Dan with her prayers. Praying for him made her feel happy and strong.
They helped Uncle Dan in other ways too. One day they helped Uncle Dan clean his house. Another day, Isabelle and Mommy stopped by to watch a movie with Uncle Dan.
Weeks went by. Finally, Daddy had good news.
“Uncle Dan has two job interviews this week!” Daddy said.
Isabelle felt happy inside. She was glad she could pray for the people she loved.
Who can you pray for?

My father worked long and hard practically every day of his life. I’m certain that on the Sabbath he would have enjoyed just being at home. Rather, he visited elderly family members and brought cheer into their lives.
One was his uncle, who was crippled by arthritis so severe that he could not walk or care for himself. On a Sunday afternoon Dad would say to me, “Come along, Tommy; let’s take Uncle Elias for a short drive.” Boarding the old 1928 Oldsmobile, we would proceed to Eighth West, where, at the home of Uncle Elias, I would wait in the car while Dad went inside. Soon he would emerge from the house, carrying his crippled uncle in his arms like a china doll. I then would open the door and watch how tenderly and with what affection my father would place Uncle Elias in the front seat so that he would have a fine view, while I occupied the rear seat.
The drive was brief and the conversation limited, but oh, what a legacy of love! Father never read to me from the Bible about the good Samaritan. Rather, he took me with him and Uncle Elias in that old 1928 Oldsmobile along the road to Jericho.

Brother Yáñez says he now has a strong testimony of the Word of Wisdom and the law of tithing. When the missionaries were teaching him, he was keeping his business open seven days a week to pay for Paola’s U.S. $1,000-per-month treatment. The law of tithing “was very hard for me to accept,” he says, but he decided to keep the Sabbath day holy and test the promise in Malachi 3:10 by paying tithing. When he closed his store on Sundays, he says, “those who used to buy on Sunday bought on Saturday—and they bought more.” Today he is much better off financially than he was when he operated his business seven days a week.

Sister Meacham stood up in Primary and said, “Boys and girls, we want you to share your wonderful talents at our Primary Celebrations Show!”
Allison slid down in her chair. What could she possibly perform at a talent show? She didn’t sing, play an instrument, dance, or do anything else like that.
Her best friend, Sarah, leaned over. “I know what song I want to sing!”
“You’ll be awesome,” Allison said. And she would, too. Sarah had such a pretty singing voice. And, of course, Courtney was incredible on the piano. Allison glanced around the room. Everybody else had a special talent. Everybody but her.
Later that day Allison helped Mom deliver some surprise cookies to Sister Moody. Allison rang the doorbell.
“Who’s there?” asked a soft voice.
“Sister Andrews,” answered Mom. “And my daughter. We wanted to drop off some of Allison’s homemade cookies.”
Sister Moody opened the door, and her face lit up in a big smile. “My favorite!” Sister Moody took the plate gratefully. “What a talent. Thank you so much for sharing it with me.”
Allison’s heart skipped a beat. Baking cookies was a talent?
During the car ride home, Allison glanced up at Mom. “Mom, Sister Moody said baking cookies is a talent. Is she right?”
“You bet she is.”
“But … well, you can’t bake cookies on a stage. Nobody claps when you mix dough in a bowl or pull cookies out of the oven.”
Allison always figured making cookies was no big deal. She’d made that chocolate chip recipe so many times she had it memorized.
“Not all talents belong on a stage, sweetheart,” Mom said. “Some people are thoughtful friends or wonderful gardeners. Being able to cook well is definitely a talent not everyone has.”
Allison thought about what Mom had said. Was it really that simple? A moment later she asked, almost in a whisper, “Do you think I could bake cookies for the Primary talent show?”
Mom reached over and squeezed Allison’s hand. “I think that’s a great idea.”
On the day of the talent show, Allison rushed home from school and started baking. She made five batches of her favorite chocolate chip cookies. The house filled with the smell of chocolaty goodness.
At the talent show, Allison sat next to Sarah and Courtney.
“Your name’s not on the program,” Sarah said. “Aren’t you doing anything?”
“Yes. But it’s a surprise.”
One by one her friends performed. Allison clapped loudly each time. They really were impressive. When everyone finished, Sister Meacham stood and thanked everyone for participating.
“Often we only think of talents as being good at music, art, and singing,” Sister Meacham said. “However, talents come in many different forms. Tonight Allison wanted to share her own special talent. After the closing prayer, you’re all invited into the next room to enjoy her homemade chocolate chip cookies.”
Ooh’s and Mmm’s filled the room. After the prayer everybody hurried into the next room.
“These are so good,” Sarah said, taking a bite of her second cookie.
“I wish I could make cookies this yummy!” Courtney said.
Within minutes, only crumbs remained. Everyone complimented Allison on the delicious cookies. She felt so happy inside. Sister Moody was right. She had a talent to share after all.

It seems like not so long ago I was but a boy, young and green with eyes unmellowed, but believing I was indeed extremely wise. I was no expert at baseball, but my bedroom was adorned with photographs of baseball heroes—especially those of Pete Dillard. Pete was a famous professional player whose parents lived in our town, and he came every summer for a week with his family to visit them. It was kind of fun to see him around town, shaking hands with everybody and sometimes joining in a neighborhood game and signing autographs afterward. But I never seemed to get close enough to him to even say hello. One day when I was approaching a crowd of fans around Pete, I overheard a boy say, “Hey, Pete, how did you ever get so good at baseball?”
Pete shrugged his shoulders modestly, smiled, and said, “Lots and lots of practice.” But then he paused for a while as if he remembered something and added, “Maybe it’s because I once had a Sunday School teacher who loved me. All of us called him Chief.”
And then Pete was gone.
Most of my experiences with baseball consisted of playing games with my dad and a sprinkling of friends on hot summer evenings. When Dad didn’t have meetings or if he didn’t have to work late at the office, he usually spent some time with me. After dinner we often played catch out in our front yard until way after the street lights blinked on. I still remember his calm, deep voice as he called out to me, “Good throw, Son” or “A little higher, boy” or “Nice curve, John.”
Then other boys would come straggling over one by one and stand and watch us, and Dad would stop the game and invite them to join us. If we eventually accumulated enough people, we’d begin a game of baseball. Everybody liked my dad—almost as much as I did.
There was a boy who lived directly across the street from us, Homer Johnson. He had a mop of red curls, pale thin skin that revealed his veins clear through, and thick, thick glasses. He hardly ever came out of his house. My mother said that he had had a lot of illness. But every so often I’d see his piercing eyes watching us from an upstairs window as we played ball. I’d try not to feel those eyes, but I could not ignore them.
One day just when we had chosen up sides for a game, my team was short one player. But that didn’t matter, because I had all good players. Then suddenly Dad turned his head and said in his calm, deep voice, “Oh, hello there, Homer. Want to join us?”
I reeled around, and there was Homer standing across the street in front of his house, his hands in his pockets. He fidgeted a lot, but slowly he dragged his feet and crossed the street. As he neared, I noticed that he was thinner and smaller than he looked to be from his window … and he didn’t look very strong.
I turned toward my father. “Dad …” I tried to whisper. But he had already walked over and put an arm around Homer. Now they were both walking toward us.
“John needs one more man on his team,” Dad was saying. “You can be an outfielder for now.”
I felt my ears burn. Dad caught my eye, and I think he knew how I felt—he always did. But there was something in Dad’s look that silenced me. I picked up my ball and mitt and stomped off to my position.
The other team scored two home runs. And then it happened. Someone smacked the ball out into the field toward Homer. I saw him position his hands to catch the flying ball, and then … splaatt! His glasses flew, and he was holding his nose, with blood dripping from beneath his hands. Dad had him lie down on the grass to stop the bleeding. Then he sent him home to wash up. Fortunately his glasses hadn’t broken.
After Homer left, I said, “Dad, he’s no good as a player. He shouldn’t be on anyone’s team ’cause he’ll make it lose.”
Then in a low voice so no one else could hear, Dad said, “He’s a child of God, John. Always remember that.”
I didn’t want to make a scene in front of everybody, so I just tromped off and continued playing ball, but my ears were burning. I didn’t say anything else for the rest of the evening. I resented being preached to.
Homer didn’t return the next day or the next. But the following week he was back again, standing in front of his home, fidgeting and staring at us. As we pitched and threw and shouted on my lawn, I could not help but feel two penetrating eyes on us. Then I heard Dad’s voice inviting him to join us, and again I felt my ears turn hot. As I glanced over at my father, I saw a pleading look on his face as he gazed back at me.
That night I lay in bed, wide-eyed. I had thrown off the covers, and still my bedclothes stuck to my back. I heard a rustle. Standing in the doorway was Dad. “You still awake, Son?”
I nodded, and hoped that he could see my response in the dark. His large angular figure came toward me, his gentle eyes sparkling in the dark. I thought of Homer and looked away.
He sat beside me, and I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Son …” he began softly. “Things are getting tight at the office, and I’ll have to stay late at work for a while.”
My heart fell.
“But I have one day reserved just for you,” he continued. “Pete Dillard is going to be in town in a couple of weeks, and they’ve asked him to speak at a fund-raising dinner for crippled children. I have two tickets for you and me.”
Suddenly I was smiling. “Dad!” I shouted. “You mean I get to see Pete Dillard for real! Boy, oh, boy! Wait until my friends hear about this!”
Even though I had this exciting event to look forward to from that day on, things were not the same when my friends and I got together to play ball on the front lawn. Without Dad, we often got into squabbles, and one of the fellows would go home mad. Sometimes Homer would stand at his front door, watching us. But nobody invited him to play ball. So he just stood there all the time with his piercing, piercing eyes.
At last the day of the dinner came. There was Pete in the front of the hall, shaking hands with people and looking really interested in what everyone had to say to him. I don’t remember what was served. My only thoughts were about the baseball that I set beside my plate for Pete to autograph after the dinner.
When it was time for Pete to talk, he arose confidently. He didn’t give the speech we all expected, but said only a few words. Again he mentioned Chief, the Sunday School teacher I had heard him talk about sometime ago.
“I was awkward and clumsy as a boy,” Pete said, “but it was the confidence that Chief had in me that gave me what I needed in my long struggle to become the person that I wanted to become.”
Then he sat down. People began crowding around for autographs. I picked up my ball and started up front. Suddenly I realized Dad was next to me, waiting to meet Pete too.
Finally our turn came. I held my ball up for Pete to autograph. But Pete was staring past me with a funny look on his face, arms outstretched.
“Chief!” he cried. “What are you doing here?” And he threw his arms around my dad.
“I’ve lived here for five years,” Dad replied. “I’ve tried to get hold of you every time you’ve been in town, but you’re an awfully busy man!”
On our way home in the car, many unanswered questions filled my mind. But somehow I couldn’t seem to find the right words to express them. All I could say was, “Dad, you’re great, you really are. Even Pete Dillard thinks so.”
The next evening seemed so empty without my father. I stood in front of my house, waiting for the neighborhood boys to start coming by to play ball again. Idly I tossed a ball into the air, marveling over the happenings of yesterday.
Suddenly I became aware of two piercing eyes upon me. I tried to ignore them, but they were there nonetheless. Then the scene of Pete Dillard embracing my Dad flashed through my mind, and the word Chief! seemed to ring out loud and clear. And I realized then that I yearned to be like my dad.
I found myself slowly crossing the street, walking up the steps of the house opposite mine, and knocking on the door.

One day, a lady came to our class at school to teach about Colonial times. She said that the water they had to drink then wasn’t very healthy, so instead they drank tea. The whole class pitched in to make tea and cakes. When the time came to eat, she noticed that I ate my cake but did not drink the tea.
She asked me, “Aren’t you going to drink your tea?”
“No, thank you.”
“Everyone must drink the tea!” she said.
“I’m not allowed to drink tea,” I responded.
“Well,” she said, “tell your parents that you’re a big girl now and then drink the tea.”
My teacher overheard our conversation. She knows that I am LDS, so she came over and said, “She doesn’t have to drink the tea.”
I’m glad I stood up for what I know is right, and I know that my Heavenly Father is too.
Aubrey Potter, age 11Darien, Connecticut

All of this does not begin to count the individual acts of kindness and support—gifts of food, clothing, money, care, and a thousand other forms of comfort and compassion—by which we may participate in the Christlike work of redemption. As a boy I witnessed my own mother’s actions to redeem a woman in need. Many years ago when her children were young, my mother underwent a serious operation that nearly took her life and left her bedridden much of the time for nearly a year. During this time, family and ward members helped Mother and our family. For additional help, the ward Relief Society president, Sister Abraham, recommended that my parents hire a woman in the ward who desperately needed work. In recounting this story, I will use the fictional names Sara and Annie for this woman and her daughter. This is my mother’s account:
“I can see it as plain as if it were only yesterday. There I lay in bed, and Sister Abraham brought Sara to the bedroom door. My heart sank. There stood the least attractive person I had ever met—so thin; scraggly, unkempt hair; round-shouldered; head bowed looking at the floor. She wore an old housedress four sizes too big. She wouldn’t look up and spoke so softly I couldn’t hear her. Hiding behind her was a little girl about three years old. What in the world was I to do with this creature? After they left the room, I cried and cried. I needed help, not more problems. Sister Abraham stayed awhile with her, and they soon whipped the house into shape and prepared some good meals. Sister Abraham asked me to try it for a few days, [saying] that this girl had had a really hard time and needed help.
“The next morning when Sara came, I finally got her to come over by the bed where I could hear her. She asked what I wanted her to do. I told her and then said, ‘But the most important thing is my boys; spend time with them, read to them—they are more important than the house.’ She was a good cook and kept the house clean, the washing done, and she was good to the boys.
“Through the weeks, I learned Sara’s story. [Because she was hard of hearing, she didn’t do well in school and eventually dropped out. She married young to a dissolute man. Annie was born and became the joy of Sara’s life. One winter night her husband came home drunk, forced Sara and Annie into the car in their bedclothes, and then dropped them off by the side of the highway. They never saw him again. Barefoot and freezing, Sara and Annie walked several miles to her mother’s home.] Her mother agreed to let them stay in exchange for doing all the housework and cooking, and caring for her sister and brother who were in high school.
“We took Sara to an ear doctor, and she got a hearing aid. … We got her to take adult schooling, and she got her high school diploma. She went to night school and later graduated from college and taught special education. She bought a little home. Annie was married in the temple and had two children. Sara eventually had some operations on her ears and was finally able to hear well. Years later she retired and served a mission. … Sara thanked us often and said she learned so much from me, especially when I told her that my sons were more important than the house. She said it taught her to be that way with Annie. … Sara is a very special woman.”

I have been a member of the Church all my life, and I feel that the New Era and other Church magazines have been of great help in keeping me informed of the activities of the Saints in other parts of the world. While holidaying in Australia I met two 17-year-old girls who have been attending church for nine months in spite of strong family opposition. I discovered that they too love reading the magazines. I had not realized before how much of an influence these wonderful magazines could have on the lives of people who are still nonmembers. It strengthens my testimony to know that these two girls have accepted the gospel and receive the benefits of reading Church publications—benefits that I have received all my life.
Kiri NodaHuntly, New Zealand

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.

For 20 years, Brother Huang Juncong struggled with alcohol, cigarettes, and compulsive gambling. When introduced to Jesus Christ and His restored gospel, Brother Huang desired to change for the sake of his young family. His greatest challenge was smoking. A heavy chain-smoker, he had tried to quit many times unsuccessfully. One day these words from the Book of Mormon lodged in his mind: “with a sincere heart, with real intent.” Though previous attempts had failed, he felt perhaps he could change with help from Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
The full-time missionaries united their faith with his and provided an action plan of practical interventions, along with heavy doses of prayer and studying the word of God. With sincerity and real intent, Brother Huang acted with faithful determination and found that as he focused more on the new habits he wished to develop, such as studying the Book of Mormon, he focused less on the habits he wanted to lose.
Recalling his experience from 15 years ago, he remarked, “I don’t remember when exactly I quit smoking, but as I tried hard every day to do the things I knew I needed to do to invite the Spirit of the Lord into my life and kept doing them, I was no longer attracted to cigarettes and have not been since.” Through applying the teachings of the Book of Mormon, Brother Huang’s life has been transformed, and he has become a better husband and father.

Visiting the African continent brought back memories of my earlier assignments to East and West Africa. I thought once again of the special fast by Church members worldwide in 1985. It provided approximately six million dollars to relieve suffering and hunger primarily in drought-stricken Ethiopia. Brother Glenn L. Pace and I witnessed firsthand the fruits of generous contributions by Church members when the First Presidency assigned us to go to Africa, assess the needs of the people, and recommend how to make the best use of these special funds.
We visited refugee camps in that arid country. The land was as barren as any I had ever seen. We visited Red Cross centers and field hospitals where the desperately ill were being cared for. Such dreadful, pitiful suffering broke our hearts. We saw sick mothers lying on cots trying to feed and comfort their children, many of whom had the sunken eyes and pencil-thin arms and legs of those in the advanced stages of starvation. This was one of the most heart-wrenching experiences of my life. I had never seen anything that touched my heart so deeply as the anxious yearning for food and nourishment that I saw there.
Brothers and sisters, even as people in Ethiopia were starving physically because of the lack of food, far too many people in the world are starving spiritually. Sadly, most of them have no idea where to find real spiritual nourishment. They wander to and fro—another form of pathetic refugees. Those who yearn for true spiritual light and knowledge can only find it through the power of the Holy Ghost. The Spirit enlightens and gives understanding of the eternal purposes of life. By the Spirit, Church members know the restored gospel of Jesus Christ is true. We should, therefore, feel compelled to share our spiritual knowledge with all of our Father’s children by inviting them to pull a chair up to the Lord’s table and feast on the words of Christ.
“Come unto the Holy One of Israel,” wrote the great Book of Mormon prophet Jacob, “and feast upon that which perisheth not, neither can be corrupted, and let your soul delight in fatness.” Later Nephi urged his followers to “feast upon the words of Christ; for behold, the words of Christ will tell you all things what ye should do.”
God’s chosen prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley, recently said:
“Every member of this church is an individual man or woman, boy or girl. Our great responsibility is to see that each is ‘remembered and nourished by the good word of God’ (Moro. 6:4), that each has opportunity for growth and expression and training in the work and ways of the Lord. …
“This work is concerned with people, each a son or daughter of God. In describing its achievements we speak in terms of numbers, but all of our efforts must be dedicated to the development of the individual.”
For The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to fulfill its divine mission to assist in bringing “to pass the immortality and eternal life of man,” all members need to generate an appetite for gospel sustenance. We must “hunger and thirst after righteousness” before we can be filled. We need to cultivate spiritual strength within ourselves before we can ever hope to engender it in others. Individual, personal testimony of gospel truth, particularly of the divine life and mission of the Lord Jesus Christ, is essential to our eternal life. “And this is life eternal,” said the Savior, “that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou has sent.” In other words, life eternal is predicated upon our own individual, personal knowledge of our Father in Heaven and His Holy Son. Simply knowing about them is not enough. We must have personal, spiritual experiences to anchor us. These come through seeking them in the same intense, single-minded way that a hungry person seeks food.
Once again quoting President Hinckley:
“The gaining of a strong and secure testimony is the privilege and opportunity of every individual member of the Church. The Master said, ‘If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself’ (John 7:17).
“Service in behalf of others, study, and prayer lead to faith in this work and then to knowledge of its truth. This has always been a personal pursuit, as it must always be in the future.”
We must fortify ourselves before we can ever hope to offer spiritual nourishment to others. Once we have nourished ourselves with the good word of Christ and feasted personally at His table so that our testimony is strong and vibrant, we are obligated to join with the missionaries in a balanced effort to invite others—beginning with our families—to the spiritual banquet. As the Lord said to His beloved Apostle Peter, “When thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren.” And again speaking to Peter, the Savior asked: “Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? Peter was grieved because he said unto him the third time, Lovest thou me? And he said unto him, Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee. Jesus saith unto him, Feed my sheep.”
If we are obedient to the Savior’s command given to Peter, we will focus our attention on the spiritual growth and development of those for whom we are responsible. Feeding the Lord’s sheep requires each of us to awaken our interest in others. The duty to invite others to partake of the gospel feast does not rest only on the shoulders of the missionaries. That sober and significant duty belongs to each member of the Church, for “it becometh every man who hath been warned to warn his neighbor.”
Today our prophet is calling for enthusiastic and dynamic love for our Heavenly Father’s children. He asks us to see the spiritual hunger around us and to respond by willingly sharing our abundance. No power on earth can accomplish as much as one righteous man or woman or boy or girl.
The home and family have vital roles in cultivating and developing personal faith and testimony. The family is the basic unit of society; the best place for individuals to build faith and strong testimonies is in righteous homes filled with love. Love for our Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ is greatly enhanced when the gospel is taught and lived in the home. True principles of eternal life are embedded in the hearts and souls of young and old alike when scriptures are read and discussed, when prayers are offered morning and night, and when reverence for God and obedience to Him are modeled in everyday conduct. Just as the best meals are home cooked, the most nourishing gospel instruction takes place at home. Strong, faithful families have the best opportunity to produce strong, faithful members of the Church. The recent proclamation to the world on the family, issued by the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, makes very clear that the family is ordained of God. The proclamation warns that the disintegration of the family will bring upon individuals, communities, and nations the calamities foretold by ancient and modern prophets (see Ensign, Nov. 1995, 102).
The family is where the foundation of personal spiritual growth is built and nurtured; the Church, then, is the scaffolding that helps support and strengthen the family. While the Church is secondary to the family in teaching gospel principles, much spiritual learning and growth come through the Church. For example, carefully planned sacrament meetings should be a spiritual feast in which we worship and learn of our Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Bishops, if your sacrament meetings are less than a banquet of spiritual nourishment, I urge you to invite suggestions from your ward council, especially the sisters, on ways to make every sacrament meeting a more reverent, spiritual experience. Let the council also help teach our members that the chapel is a special place in our buildings where we come in a spirit of respect for God and reverence for His holy Son. Let the quiet, peaceful promptings of the Holy Spirit abide in our worship services, causing spiritual enlightenment and nourishment to flow into our lives.
Whether we are teaching in the home or in the Church, we must keep a clear vision of the gospel’s eternal purpose. Not long ago I experienced the kind of faith and spiritual strength the gospel provides when an 18-year-old sister, who was fighting for her life in a battle with cancer, asked me for a blessing. She said: “Brother Ballard, I am not afraid to die. I would like to live. There are things I would still like to accomplish in this life, but I know that Jesus is my Savior and my Redeemer. During these past few years He has become my best friend. I trust Him, and I trust you as His representative. Whatever He wants for me, I am prepared.”
We pled for a miracle but at her request left the matter with Heavenly Father. She died shortly thereafter with the peace of the Lord attending her and her faithful family.
Brothers and sisters, we should teach revealed principles and inspired doctrine in our homes and in our Church meetings. Every parent and class instructor should be well prepared to teach the gospel by the power of the Spirit to ensure that testimonies are renewed and understanding of life and life eternal is fortified.
The First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles ask leaders to emphasize constantly, in priesthood quorums, auxiliaries, and stake and ward councils, the preeminence of the home and family. That is where scriptures are studied and prayers are offered regularly so all family members will strive to follow the Savior in all things.
Leaders also need to emphasize that all adult members of the Church should strive to become worthy to receive the ordinances of the temple. Members should identify their ancestors and perform the sacred temple ordinances for them.
Parents and leaders need to do everything possible to prepare each young man to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood and the ordinances of the temple and to serve a full-time mission. Likewise, young women need to prepare to make and keep sacred covenants and receive temple ordinances. Making and keeping sacred covenants in the house of the Lord is the most delicious course at the Lord’s table. It is the ultimate, satisfying spiritual feast of the gospel of Jesus Christ in mortality; it has eternal consequences. Our living prophet has expressed his great vision of those who qualify for temple ordinances, keep temple covenants, and serve regularly in the house of the Lord:
“We would be a better people,” President Hinckley said. “There would be little or no infidelity among us. Divorce would almost entirely disappear. So much of heartache and heartbreak would be avoided. There would be a greater measure of peace and love and happiness in our homes. There would be fewer weeping wives and weeping children. There would be a greater measure of appreciation and of mutual respect among us. And I am confident the Lord would smile with greater favor upon us.”
Through His prophet, God has promised to replace the spiritual hunger that plagues mankind with untold bounty from His own table. All He asks is that we come unto Christ and then do all we can, through our families and with the support of the Church, to help all of our Father’s children succeed spiritually in this critical journey of mortality.
“Behold,” said the Lord, “I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.”
I testify to you that Jesus is the Christ. He lives and invites everyone to partake of the joyful feast of the gospel. Joseph Smith is the prophet of the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ in these latter days. May we all be blessed, my beloved brothers and sisters, with an increased desire to seek after and feast on the things of the Spirit, I pray humbly in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Jung Sung Eun of Korea didn’t pass the qualification exam to become a teacher. Tina Roper of Utah, USA, lost a job that she had expected to turn into a career. Todd Schlensker of Ohio, USA, received a spiritual confirmation to marry but saw his engagement come to an end. Alessia Mazzolari (name has been changed) of Italy ended what appeared to be the perfect relationship.

Alessia also thought that her relationship with a certain young man was meant to be. “Our story was so beautiful that, even though we had the normal difficulties that every couple encounters, we thought the relationship would never end,” she remembers.

When Alessia’s boyfriend left on his mission, the separation was difficult but for a different reason than Alessia had expected. “While he was gone, I began to know myself better. I realized that many things in my life were not yet right and that many times I had hidden behind some silly ideas rather than humble myself and face reality,” she recounts. “I had been living in a kind of fairy tale, as if being in love were enough to make everything turn out right, and often this caused me to overlook the most important things.”

Still, Alessia expected a happy reunion and continued relationship after her boyfriend’s mission. However, upon his return, the couple dated only a short time before breaking up. “It was one of the most painful moments I can remember,” says Alessia.

In their respective experiences, Todd and Alessia both eventually recognized that even though a key relationship in their lives was altered, they couldn’t abandon their obedience and allegiance to the Lord. He became their anchor when everything else was changing and uncertain.

Alessia knew that completely pledging herself to the Lord would bring her the strength that she needed. “I understood that the moment had arrived for me to decide what kind of person I wanted to be,” she says. “Would I continue to live life halfway, or would I start on the path to becoming a true disciple of Christ? I wanted to know Him deeply, love Him truly, and try to be a better person by obeying all His commandments—not just externally but in my heart with true honesty.”

After being confronted with unanticipated setbacks, all four of these young adults struggled to find the courage to live in the present and again plan for the future. But they found that their faith in the Lord grew.

Alessia, by rededicating herself to the Lord, developed a deep and personal testimony. “The plan of salvation became real for me, and my covenants became more binding and deep. Christ’s Atonement was not theory anymore or something that I had read about, perhaps too superficially. A change of heart was happening inside, and I had a sure witness.” Today, she says, she feels like a new person.

When I asked about their father’s sense of humor, one of the children offered this comment, “Dad has very poor handwriting and he readily admits it. He sometimes asks his office secretary to tell him what he has written on his calendar, because he can’t read it himself. President Lee called Dad’s handwriting, ‘unreformed Egyptian.’ One time when he was on the stand with President Kimball at a meeting, a message was delivered to Dad reporting that one of the Church school buildings in South America had burned. Father wrote a note to President Kimball, telling him about it. President Kimball looked at it for a long time, then sent a note back, ‘Do you mean burned or buried?’”

While my father met with customers, I had to either sit in the lobby, wait in the car, or walk around outside. I would frequently get tired of waiting for my father to finish working, so he decided to keep me busy. We went to a bank and bought 40 rolls of pennies and a collection booklet. I sifted through all the pennies and sorted them by year so I could fill up the collection. If I had finished sorting all those pennies by the time he got out of his meeting, we would find another bank and swap pennies.
My father said that if I gave the bank tellers my word that each roll of pennies I was trading had 50 pennies, I wouldn’t have to wait for them to count them. They would simply give me new rolls to replace them. Sure enough, I learned that if I said, “I’ve counted these. I promise that there are 50 pennies in each roll,” the bank tellers trusted me. I learned the importance of living up to my word. I also realized that some other little boy had probably counted the pennies I received, and that I had to rely on him to be honest as well. I never received a roll with fewer than 50 pennies, so I learned to trust others and to be trustworthy in all that I do.

Before the temple near their home was dedicated, Olivia invited her grandma to come with her to the temple open house.
I’m happy you came with us to the open house, Grandma.
Thank you for inviting me. I’ve been a little lonely since Grandpa passed away.
I miss him too.
Mom told me that when she and Dad come to the temple, they wear white clothes.
That’s right.
When you turn 12, you’ll get to come here and do baptisms for the dead.
I’m so excited!
Sealings will be performed in this room. Stand in front of this mirror and look at the mirror across the room. What do you see?
It’s as if we go on and on forever.
Just like our family, right? We’ll even see Grandpa again someday.
You’re right. If we keep the commandments, we can be with Grandpa and all of our family because we’ve been sealed in the temple.
Olivia and Grandma followed the tour guide into the temple’s celestial room.
I like how it feels in here. I feel happy.
I do too.
I love the temple, Grandma. Someday, when I’m older, I’ll come back and be married here. I’m happy that our whole family can be together forever—even Grandpa.
That’s right. I’m very thankful for the temple, for the open house, and for you.

Gioele and Michele stared at the construction site across the street. They could see lots of metal beams and layers of cement.
“It doesn’t look much like a temple yet,” Gioele said.
“But it will someday,” Michele answered.
This was the first time the brothers had seen the place where the Rome Italy Temple was being built. Right now their family had to go all the way to Switzerland to visit the temple. But this new temple was only 30 minutes away from their home!
Michele and Gioele watched the big yellow trucks move piles of dirt.
“I think that’s where one of the spires will be,” Michele said, pointing to a spot near the front of the building.
Gioele nodded. “Look! Papà is coming,” he said. Their father was wearing his usual work outfit—church clothes with a white construction hat. He worked as an electrical engineer in the temple. They loved hearing about what he worked on each day. For example, one day he told them that the statue of Christ had arrived. Another time he told them about the baptismal font.
That night, Michele made sure to say his prayers and thank Heavenly Father for the temple. He felt warm inside whenever he prayed about it.
Weeks went by. The curved temple walls were covered with strong stone, and two tall spires grew toward the sky. A small visitors’ center was built nearby. Every once in a while, Gioele and Michele would go there to press their faces against the window and see what had changed.
Then one day they got a happy surprise.
“How would you like to see the angel Moroni statue put on top of the temple?” Mom asked. The families of the construction workers had all been invited to watch.
Gioele and Michele could hardly believe it. They were so excited!
The next morning they put on white shirts and ties. They walked around the temple with the other families. They even got to take a picture with the golden angel Moroni. It was huge!
Then the workers started moving the statue. Gioele watched the giant crane carefully raise angel Moroni to the top of one of the spires. A drone buzzed around taking a video. It was so cool!
Gioele thought about all the people who would learn about the Church by visiting the temple grounds. He thought about how lots of people were going to get married there and how people were going to get baptized for people who had died.
“Now it looks like a temple,” he told his brother. Michele smiled and nodded.
The brothers felt happy. They were excited to go inside the temple soon! Their testimony was growing right along with the building.