Gospel Story Finder

Like Naomi, Eunice learned the importance of good friends.
Before Eunice joined the Church, she was very shy. When she received a calling to serve as Young Women class president in her ward, she was hesitant to accept the call. But she trusted the Lord and accepted the calling.
Although she was shy, Eunice didn’t wait for others to come to her. She made the first move to make friends with other youth. Eunice says, “This is one of the blessings of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ—having eternal friends who will endure with you in the covenant path and help you live the gospel.”
God sends friends to help us in hard times. Like Naomi and Eunice, you can reach out to others and serve them.

It was not a good time. Questions swirled in my head that seemingly didn’t have answers. For months I had been struggling with who I was and what direction my life was taking. To remedy this problem I began attending many different churches, searching for the truth. But it seemed I always ended up at the church my family went to. Somehow, though, it never felt quite right. As I thought about my feelings, I just assumed I felt this way because my life was so mixed up. I was also associating with the wrong crowd and allowing these people to influence my life, which didn’t help matters. Deep inside, all I felt was utter loneliness.
I realized I needed to change my life. I stopped hanging around with people who were a bad influence on me, and I stopped putting myself in situations that would force me to choose between God and my friends. Even with these changes, I didn’t feel like I was receiving any answers or encouragement from God, and I sometimes wondered if He really was there.
In December I graduated from college, and I decided to move back in with my family in Utah. Those plans changed when my dad took a job in another state. Since I had already accepted an internship in St. George, Utah, I decided to stay. In St. George, I began going to my church, but once again felt alone and desolate. It was as if part of me were dead or missing.
One night in my room, I cried out to the Lord and asked Him for guidance and direction. I started to tremble and cry because I so desired to have Him in my life.
At that moment, I heard something or someone say, “Read the Book of Mormon.” It wasn’t a booming voice; it was gentle, quiet, and peaceful. This prompting confused me. I had been exposed to the LDS Church before and had no desire to learn about it. In fact, a high school friend had given me a copy of the Book of Mormon, and I had given it away.
I tried to brush off the voice, but it came again: “Read the Book of Mormon.”
“Why would I want to read the Book of Mormon?” I thought. The prompting came again. “It’s the perfect time. You’re on your own now.” As crazy as this seemed, I suddenly felt a strong desire to get a copy of this book, and I figured the visitors’ center at the St. George Utah Temple was a good place to start. I went on a tour with Sister Pang, a missionary serving in the center, and afterward we watched a movie and talked. The feeling of a presence—a holy presence—was so apparent that I had to fight back tears. It was like I was on the verge of discovering something wonderful. Sister Pang gave me a Book of Mormon as I left.
I went straight home and immediately began reading. As I studied 2 Nephi 27, I began to feel very tired. I almost closed the book, but again I knew I had to press on. I said a prayer that I would be able to understand what I was reading, and I continued. As I re-read the passage I decided to compare it to Isaiah 29 and 30. For me, these scriptures were the key that unlocked knowledge and understanding of the gospel. I knew then without a doubt that the words in the Book of Mormon were true. They were another testimony of Jesus Christ.
I rushed out of my room and told my roommates the Book of Mormon was true. To see the shock and excitement on their faces was great. I rushed to the visitors’ center, but Sister Pang wasn’t there. So I met Sister Taylor, and we talked for hours about the gospel. I asked the missionaries to teach me the discussions, and I set a baptism date after the first discussion.
It wasn’t all easy after that. For the next couple of weeks I received letters and phone calls from my family and friends telling me what to do—and what not to do. I didn’t mind giving up my friends and my lifestyle. But my family’s dislike of my decision made this time in my life very difficult. I decided to stop taking the discussions, to stop praying, and to stop reading. For a week I turned away from everything. I felt so alone and confused. Then one day I called my dad and told him I was determined to be baptized. He told me he loved me and then he hung up the phone.
The joy and peace I felt at that moment cast out everything else. I immediately prayed that Heavenly Father would comfort my family. I began the discussions again, and soon I received a letter from my father. He again told me he loved me no matter what, and I would always be his daughter.
The Lord had taken care of my family and led me to a new life. I’m so thankful for the missionaries, and I’m thankful for my friends who strived to live the gospel principles. Mostly, though, I’m grateful to be a child of God. Every day I’m amazed at the love and the comfort the Lord brings to me. To be recognized by Heavenly Father is so precious.

I learned to swim in the swift-running currents of the Provo River in beautiful Provo Canyon. The “old swimming hole” was in a deep portion of the river, formed by a large rock which had fallen into the river, I assume, when the workmen constructing the railroad were blasting through the canyon. The pool was dangerous, what with its depth of sixteen feet, its current, which moved swiftly against the large rock, and the sucking action of the whirlpools below the rock. It was not a place for a novice or the inexperienced swimmer.
One warm summer afternoon when I was about twelve or thirteen, I took a large, inflated inner tube from a tractor tire, slung it over my shoulder, and walked barefoot up the railroad track which followed the course of the river. I entered the water about a mile above the swimming hole, sat comfortably in the tube, and enjoyed a leisurely float down the river. The river held no fear for me, for I knew its secrets.
That day the Greek-speaking people in Utah held a reunion at Vivian Park in Provo Canyon, as they did every year. Native food, games, and dances were the order of the day. But some left the party to try swimming in the river. When they arrived at the swimming hole, it was deserted, for afternoon shadows were beginning to envelop it.
As my inflated tube bobbed up and down, I was about to enter the swiftest portion of the river just at the head of the swimming hole when I heard frantic cries, “Save her! Save her!” A young lady swimmer, accustomed to the still waters of a gymnasium swimming pool, had fallen from the rock into the treacherous whirlpools. None of the party could swim to save her. Suddenly I appeared on the potentially tragic scene. I saw the top of her head disappearing under the water for the third time, there to descend to a watery grave. I stretched forth my hand, grasped her hair, and lifted her over the side of the tube and into my arms. At the pool’s lower end, the water was slower as I paddled the tube, with my precious cargo, to her waiting relatives and friends. They threw their arms around the water-soaked girl and kissed her, crying, “Thank God! Thank God you are safe!” Then they hugged and kissed me. I was embarrassed and quickly returned to the tube and continued my float down to the Vivian Park bridge. The water was frigid, but I was not cold, for I was filled with a warm feeling. I realized that I had participated in the saving of a life. Heavenly Father had heard the cries, “Save her! Save her,” and permitted me, a deacon, to float by at precisely the time I was needed. That day I learned that the sweetest feeling in mortality is to realize that God, our Heavenly Father, knows each one of us and generously permits us to see and to share His divine power to save.

On May 28, 2016, 16-year-old Beau Richey and his friend Austin were at a family ranch in Colorado. Beau and Austin climbed into their all-terrain vehicles with great anticipation for a day of adventure. They had not gone far when they encountered precarious conditions, at which point tragedy struck. The vehicle Beau was driving flipped over suddenly, pinning Beau under 400 pounds (180 kg) of steel. When Beau’s friend Austin got to him, he saw Beau struggling for his life. With every bit of his strength, he tried to pull the vehicle off his friend. It wouldn’t budge. He prayed for Beau and then frantically went for help. Emergency personnel finally arrived, but a few hours later Beau died. He was released from this mortal life.
His heartbroken parents arrived. As they stood in the small hospital with Beau’s dearest friend and family members, a police officer entered the room and handed Beau’s cell phone to his mother. As she took the phone, an audible alarm sounded. She opened the phone and saw Beau’s daily alarm. She read aloud the message her fun-loving, highly adventurous teenage son had set to read every day. It said, “Remember to put Jesus Christ at the center of your life today.”
Beau’s focus on his Redeemer does not lessen his loved ones’ sorrow in his absence. However, it gives great hope and meaning to Beau’s life and life choices. It allows his family and friends to look beyond only the grief of his early death to the joyful realities of the next life. What a tender mercy for Beau’s parents to see through their son’s eyes the thing he most prized.

It was a sunny spring afternoon, a week after my eighth birthday—a perfect day for a bike ride. My sister Marla, our friend Lisa, and I headed out on a backcountry road that was part of my family’s cattle ranch in British Columbia, Canada. The mountaintops glowed as the sun reflected off their snowcapped peaks. Excitement filled my chest as I pedaled.
I had been riding a two-wheeler for only about a week, so I was still a little shaky. The first part of the road was smooth dirt, flattened by regular tractor and hay-wagon trips. As the road wound past the thick green alfalfa fields, we began to pedal faster. I felt strong and free, coasting through the fresh mountain breeze.
Then we came to a division in the road. We could keep going straight along the edge of the field, or we could turn and take the road that went along the creek at the base of the mountain. We decided to take the more adventurous route.
Marla and I had been on this road several times before with our family, but this was my first time riding a bike here. I was a little nervous as my bike jiggled across a cattle guard, a ditch covered with evenly spaced bars to keep cows from crossing. I pedaled hard to stay with Marla and Lisa. The sunlight pierced through the majestic pine trees, creating a cheerful, bright pattern on the bumpy path.
As the road became rockier, I became more nervous. I was having a hard time keeping my balance. I wondered if the rocks would puncture my tires.
“I think maybe we should go back,” I said.
“Why?” Marla asked. “Are you scared?”
I would never admit to my older sister that I was afraid. “No. I just don’t want to get a flat tire.”
“Well, you can go back if you want, but we are going to keep going,” she said.
“Bye,” I called as I turned my bike around.
“We’ll see you at home,” Marla said. “We probably won’t go too much farther.”
I started toward home, all alone. The patterns on the road did not seem so cheerful now. I was suddenly aware of the strange sounds coming from the dark forest. But knowing that the comfort of home was near, I pedaled on. I was almost to the cattle guard when I sensed someone behind me. “Marla and Lisa must have decided to come home too,” I realized with relief. “Now I won’t have to ride home alone.” Swinging my leg over my bike, I stopped and turned around to see where they were. Marla and Lisa were nowhere in sight, but walking straight toward me was a black bear!
I froze. My bike clanked to the ground. All the advice I had ever heard about bears rushed through my mind. Don’t run or it will chase you. You can never outrun a bear. I started to walk slowly backwards.
Make noise to scare the bear away. Yell and bang two rocks together. I scanned the ground near my feet—no rocks, just dirt. I clapped my hands as hard as I could. But I could not yell. My throat felt tight. The bear kept walking toward me.
Pray. Throughout my life I had been taught to pray. My Sunday School teacher had even asked us what we should do if we saw a bear, and she had emphasized prayer. I had been taught to pray with my head bowed and eyes closed, but that was impossible now. I kept my eyes on the bear and silently prayed: “Heavenly Father, please help me! Please save me from this bear! Please help me know what to do.”
Praying and clapping, I walked slowly backward toward the cattle guard. Maybe if a cow couldn’t cross it, a bear would have trouble too. Maybe it would trip, giving me a chance to run home! I stepped carefully across the widely spaced beams.
The bear snorted and drooled. I watched as it followed me easily across the cattle guard. It rose onto its hind legs. I stood horrified as the grunting bear came toward me with outstretched paws. It towered over me, and I could see its sharp, wet teeth. Suddenly, the bear swiped for my head! I screamed as its large, curled claws got tangled in my hair and jerked me to the ground. I jumped back up. The bear, on all fours again, bit my inner thigh and pulled me down. It started dragging me across the road.
By then, Marla and Lisa had found me. Marla tried to distract the bear, but nothing worked. In seconds, the bear had dragged me across the dirt road to the base of the mountain. It surely would have pulled me into the thick bushes, but suddenly my pants ripped. They tore into two pieces, from front to back, even through the elastic waistband. Miraculously, its teeth had not punctured my skin. I leaped up. “Run!” a voice said to my mind.
I ran toward Marla and Lisa, leaving the bear with my pant leg in its mouth. Pantless and wearing only one shoe, I ran as fast as an Olympic track star. I overtook Marla and Lisa, who were also running. We lunged into the bushes and raced toward the creek. The thorny brambles scratched my legs, but I didn’t slow down.
Without pausing or looking back, I crossed a barbed-wire fence and sloshed into the creek. I lost my other shoe when it got wedged under a log. Almost home, I plunged through the water and ran across the wet cow corral. I squeezed through a fence and sprinted up the porch steps and through the front door.
My parents bombarded me with questions when they saw me without shoes or pants and covered with scratches.
“What happened?” Mom cried.
“Where are your pants?” Dad asked. “How did you get all those scratches?”
Still afraid, I couldn’t catch my breath. Stuttering, gasping, and crying, I finally managed, “I … ah … buh … buh … bear!”
Marla and Lisa ran onto the porch, and Marla told Mom and Dad what she had seen. Trying to calm me, Mom helped me into a warm bath.
Later that evening, clean and safe, we discussed the terrifying event. My palms were blue with bruises from clapping so hard, and my legs were covered in scratches from the bushes, but I had no marks from the bear. Its claws had brushed my head, and its teeth had gripped my leg, but my skin had not been broken. If the bear’s claws had been any closer to my head or if its teeth had bitten into my thigh, I could have been seriously hurt and would not have been able to run away.
I know Heavenly Father heard my prayers that day, and I know I heard the voice of the Holy Ghost telling me to run. Heavenly Father blessed me with a miracle.

Sometimes when I go to bed at night, I am afraid. I pray to go to sleep quickly and to not have bad dreams. One day when my sister Courtney gave a family home evening lesson, she used the scripture Joshua 1:9. It says, “Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”
When I go to bed now, I think of “Be not afraid, … God is with thee.” This helps me go to sleep without being afraid.Cassie Fernelius, age 8Shippensburg, Pennsylvania

When Darren climbed onto the top bunk, he found a note on his pillow: “CK 24/7.” He slid down and showed it to his older brother, Byron.
“I got the same thing!” Byron said. “What does it mean?” They asked Mom if she knew anything about it.
“Hmm … ,” she said. Then she smiled. Darren knew she was up to something! “I bet you’ll get some answers during family home evening tomorrow.”
On the way home from school the next day, Darren and Byron tried to guess what CK stood for.
Candy Kangaroos? Curious Koalas? Crafty Kings?
Mom just smiled when they asked at dinner. When it was finally time for family night, Darren was ready for some answers.
But first Mom read a story from the Friend about a boy who helped take care of his grandma. The boy didn’t realize it, but by showing Christlike love he was keeping his baptismal covenants.
“We keep our covenants every day when we show love and take care of each other the way Jesus would,” Mom said.
“Hey! Covenants starts with C!” said Darren.
“And keep starts with K. So maybe CK is … Covenant Keepers?” said Byron.
“Yeah, and the 24/7 could mean all day, every day!” Darren shouted. “We cracked the code!”
Mom high-fived Darren and Byron. “Good job, guys! But the lesson’s not over yet. I need to tell you boys that I’ve been spying on you.”
“What do you mean?” Darren asked as he watched Mom pull out a piece of paper. He could see different notes for each day of the week.
“Well, I decided to write down the times I spied you keeping your covenants this week,” Mom said. “And here’s what I saw.”
Monday: Your friend asked if you wanted to watch a violent movie, but you suggested a better movie instead. You were obedient.
Tuesday: Darren’s teacher was grouchy, but you were still kind to her. She was so impressed she called and told me about it. You were forgiving.
Wednesday: Heidi came home from college for a few days. She was sad because one of her classmates died. You two brought her tissues and kept her company. You showed compassion.
Thursday: Byron used a bad word and wished he hadn’t. But you apologized and said you would do better. You repented.
Friday: When your older brothers came to visit and teased you, I saw you guys start to get angry. But then instead of fighting with them, you laughed it off. You showed self-control.
Saturday: When Mr. Gomez offered to pay you for playing with his grandkids, you two said you were happy to help for free. You served.
Sunday: You both sat quietly as you took the sacrament to renew your baptismal covenants. You were reverent, and you remembered how important the sacrament is.
As Mom read the list, Darren felt happy and warm inside. He knew it was the Holy Ghost telling him that those were good choices to make. He wanted to be a covenant keeper by following Jesus 24 hours a day, 7 days a week!

Being brought up in the Church, I was always told by my friends and family that this was the true church. I never really denied it, but I never really bothered to find out for myself either. I just assumed it was true because everything pretty much made sense and my parents and everyone else seemed so sincere about it.
I had always planned to go on a mission, partially because I felt I was expected to and also because I felt I needed to. After I had received my mission call and before I was about to enter the Missionary Training Center, I really began to think and wonder about the truthfulness of the Church. I had never prayed to my Heavenly Father about knowing the truth, and now I was so close to going on my mission I felt I didn’t have the courage to ask. It was as if I was denying the truth.
When I entered the MTC, I did so with high spirits and was happy to be there. I was enjoying the knowledge I was gaining, but in the back of my mind the thought still lingered. I needed to know for myself if the gospel was true, but I continued to push the thought farther back in my head.
One day my teacher finished giving a great lesson. He then bore his testimony and challenged each of us to find out and pray for ourselves. I was almost in shock, feeling the lesson was aimed specifically at me. That night after our companionship prayer, I knelt down and asked Heavenly Father to help me know that what I was doing was right and that the Church was true.
I finished my prayer and waited and waited. Feeling nothing, I became discouraged and went to bed.
A couple of days later, I was doing my daily scripture study when I came across this scripture: “Verily I say unto you my friends, fear not, let your hearts be comforted; yea, rejoice evermore, and in everything give thanks;
“Waiting patiently on the Lord, for your prayers have entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth, and are recorded with this seal and testament—the Lord hath sworn and decreed that they shall be granted.
“Therefore, he giveth this promise unto you, with an immutable covenant that they shall be fulfilled; and all things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good, and to my name’s glory, saith the Lord” (D&C 98:1–3).
These verses really helped me understand the need for patience. A few days later at a fireside, we were talking about our prophets. I’m not the emotional type, but I’ll never forget that night. The Spirit was so strong in the room, and it was the first time I had ever felt the Spirit so strongly. Toward the conclusion, all the missionaries stood and sang “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet.” While we were singing, they had a movie on the screen showing pictures of the prophets. I was overwhelmed, choked up, and warm inside. I knew the Holy Ghost was testifying to me the truth, and that the prophet was leading the true Church.
I recently returned from serving my mission in the Tucson Arizona Mission. I am so grateful for that special day in the MTC. I realized it’s never too late or early to pray about the truth. I learned patience while also learning the Lord will answer our prayers.

I am happy to declare that the light has dawned. I received the assignment to dedicate four small meetinghouses in Nigeria. I had seen them under construction—simple, functional, but beautiful—gleaming white against the brilliant greens of the tropical rain forest. The local Saints had helped when they could, and the sisters deserve special mention for carrying water on their heads for two or three miles to the building sites.

In each new chapel, as we took our places on the stand, we paused to shake hands with the local chiefs who had been invited to attend and to occupy the front seats. They were dignified in their robes, each carrying a chief’s cane. The head chief at each chapel graciously accepted the invitation to address the congregation. Of course, they used different words, but they expressed the same powerful sentiments: “You are the light of this community. You have brought us the true gospel. Thank you for coming.” Did not the Savior exhort us, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven” (Matt. 5:16)? Oh, that we might all be a light to our respective communities!

To help us in our striving, God has given us role models and mentors. I want to share my feelings about one of mine, Elder Neal A. Maxwell. He constantly sought to submit his will to the will of the Father in his effort to become like God.
More than 20 years ago, he shared his feelings with me after he had just been diagnosed with cancer. He told me, “I want to be on the team, on this side [of the veil] or that side. I don’t want to sit on the sidelines. I want to play in the game.”13
Over the next few weeks, he was reluctant to ask God to heal him; he just wanted to do God’s will. His wife, Colleen, pointed out that Jesus’s first cry in the Garden of Gethsemane was “If it be possible, let this cup pass from me.” Only then did the Savior say, “Nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.”14 She encouraged Elder Maxwell to follow the Savior’s example, to ask for relief and then submit his will to God’s will, which he did.15
After suffering through extensive, debilitating treatments for nearly a year, he was totally and completely back “in the game.” He served for seven more years.
I had several assignments with him during those subsequent years. I felt his kindness, compassion, and love. I witnessed his increased spiritual refinement through his ongoing suffering and his continued service as he strove to become like the Savior.

The ice glowed with a cold bluish hue around the edges of the rink, but in the middle, it was white where the cutting edges of skates had scarred the smooth surface. Huddled to one side of the rink was a group of toddlers, rocking unsteadily on the narrow blades as they clung to their mothers. It was the first time most of them had ever seen a skating rink, and it would be their first experience with ice skating.
One little girl with straight blonde hair was anxious to get started. Her mother helped her onto the ice. She tried a few running steps, but the skates slid out from under her. She went down hard, falling back and hitting her head with a resounding crack on the ice. The cry was one of sincere pain. Holly Cook, the toddler, wanted to end her skating career then and there.
“On my fourth birthday, Mom took me down to the ice rink which had just opened and signed me up for a group lesson. When I hit my head, I didn’t want to go back on the ice after that.”
But she did. Holly’s mother wiped away the tears, comforted her, then helped her again stand on the ice.
As a four-year-old, Holly Cook did try again, and since that time trying again has become a part of her daily life. She has spent hours and hours perfecting the intricate moves that make figure skating look deceptively simple when she’s on the ice. For 11 years she has honed her talent, skill, and grace, until now at age 15 she is one of the best—one of the 10 best women figure skaters in the United States and in the world. Competing in her first senior Nationals, Holly came in tenth. In her first international competition in Yugoslavia, she placed eighth. Just a few months ago in an international skating competition known as the Coupes des Alpes, she took first.
Get out the scrapbooks with the clippings and photographs of Holly’s skating career, and the picture of her after the first competition will tell you all you need to know about why she has been successful. There she is at six-and-a-half, standing in third place holding her little ribbon, with her eyes glued on the trophy in the first-place winner’s hands. The look in her eye is everything. It is a look of pure resolve, a look that says next time the trophy will be hers.
Holly’s mother, Marge, noticed the look also. “That’s when I realized her determination. The girl who placed above her had an axel in her routine. Holly didn’t do that yet. She came home and went right to work learning it. I realized then that she had something special. She would fall and fall but keep on trying.”
Her teacher and coach, Chris Sherard also noticed the determination and talent of young Holly. “She was all business even as a six-year-old. She knew what she was supposed to do. She didn’t agonize over every performance. On the outside, she’s different than on the inside. Outside she’s a nice kid and tries not to hurt feelings. When she skates, her inner self comes out, and she becomes aggressive and strong. She wants to compete. I think the combination is nice.”
Holly is approaching a critical period in her skating. She is entering senior high school and needs to either make a commitment to skating or relax and become involved more in school. “Everybody decides in about ninth grade,” Holly explains, “if they really want to skate or not. You have to decide whether to be involved in all the high school activities or to stick with skating. I’ve been skating well and working hard. Now I want to stick with it.”
It isn’t always easy to stay with a schedule when it includes five or six hours a day on the ice. A typical day goes something like this. Holly wakes up at 4:30 in the morning and gets ready for school. She heads for the skating rink and skates from 5:30 to 7:30. Then it’s off to school by 8:00. She’s in school until 2:00 since she’s allowed to skip her seventh period class. Then it’s back to the rink for more practice from 2:00 until 5:00. At 6:00 it’s dinner and homework, a short time to relax, then to bed.
Holly has learned how to deal with the ups and downs of skating. “There is always a point when you want to just quit. If you stick with it, things turn out for the better. I know when I have really bad days, when I just want to throw in the towel and say bag it, that everybody has bad days. You have to just realize that it happens. I have to think, ‘I’ll stick with it.’”
And Holly has a pretty clear view of how things should be in big competitions. “There are a lot of big heads. I don’t want to get like that. I want to stay laid back and skate for the fun of it. A lot of skaters skate because others want them to, but I just don’t want to do that.” Her parents agree. Holly is the youngest of six children, and they want her to skate as long as it is making her happy.
For Holly, doing well in her skating routines has brought a lot of satisfaction. “At the last Nationals, I had the best long program I have ever, ever skated. When I got off the ice, the crowd was great. I love the crowd. It was fun to hear them clapping for me. I had tears in my eyes. I was happy with myself.”
But not all competitions go smoothly. “There are some competitions where I do well and others when I do bad. Sometimes you just don’t feel like skating. Other times you’re just rarin’ to go. And those competitions are the ones you pull off.”
When asked to analyze her own style of skating, Holly is quick to point out her strengths and weaknesses. “I like powerful skating. I like the fast portions of my routines. I’ve been told I skate like a boy,” Holly says with some chagrin. “My favorite move is a cantilever. It’s fun to do. Girls don’t do that move in their routines. But right now I’m working on my maturity. That’s how I present myself, keeping the body up, standing up straight and working with my arms. Then I’m going to work on the consistency of my jumps.”
As a Mia Maid in the Bountiful Utah 53rd Ward, Holly has had the support of her Young Women leaders and the other young people in the ward. Susan Larson, the Young Women president and formerly Holly’s teacher, says, “Holly is just so genuine and friendly. She’s lots of fun to have around and fits in easily. There is no envy from the young people. They are all just so proud of her. Everyone is excited about her successes. And we’re touched when she bears her testimony about how she prays and feels that the Lord is with her.”
Holly has found that religious faith has given her something to talk about with skaters of other religions. And she finds the opportunity to bear her testimony. “I was talking to a Catholic skater one time when we got onto the subject of religion,” said Holly. “We were just talking and comparing what he thinks is true and what I think is true. It’s good to learn more about other religions and other people.”
Back to the scrapbooks. There’s a picture of Holly during her first time at Nationals. At 14, she was still competing in the junior division. Just like the picture when she was six, she’s standing on the riser in third place. But this time, her eyes are straight ahead. There is no sidelong glance at the first-place trophy. The smile is bright, and the look is still determined. She obviously knows she has done as well as she could and better than nearly everyone expected.
“My biggest goal,” said Holly, “is to skate my best at competitions, to show myself that I can do it. And if I do skate my best, then it will take me somewhere. Everybody wants to go to the Olympics. I don’t want to think about it because it puts too much pressure on people. When I push myself too much, that’s when I don’t do as well.”
One person who would have loved to watch this young woman develop her skill on the ice is Holly’s grandfather. He knew the lure of speed and grace on the slippery surface. He himself was a speed skater, and he taught his little girl, Holly’s mother, to skate. But he did not live to see his granddaughter follow in his blade marks.
Still Holly is influenced by him and the stories of him her mother has told her. “I hope that he has seen me skate. I think of him even though I didn’t know him. I think of how he used to skate, then my mom skated, and now I skate. And I wonder if my children and grandchildren will skate too. Sometimes I skate remembering my grandfather, and that encourages me.”
And the scrapbooks continue to be filled with clippings of triumphs on the ice and photographs of a young girl with a look of assurance that she is pursuing her talents and doing the best she can. But somewhere, lingering around the eyes, is the look that was once on the face of a six-year-old, a look of pure determination.

Photographs by Richard M. Romney
Many exciting changes have come to the Church thanks to inspiration received by President Russell M. Nelson. Two of these changes have had a direct impact on the Clarkson brothers from California, USA:
Young men can now be ordained to a priesthood office in January of the year they turn 12, 14, and 16.
Youth are eligible to obtain a limited-use temple recommend beginning in January of the year they turn 12.
For brothers Matthew (15), Andrew (13), and Isaac (11), these changes have brought new opportunities to serve and progress in the gospel of Jesus Christ—not just on their own but together.
In January 2019, Matthew, Andrew, and Isaac all experienced a day of firsts. Andrew says: “Matthew became a priest, I became a teacher, and Isaac became a deacon at the same time. None of us were at the ages where we would have advanced before.”
“On my first day being a priest,” Matthew says, “I broke the bread for the sacrament and blessed it. I was kind of nervous. My hands were shaking a little bit when I said the prayer, but it was really amazing.”
New to the Aaronic Priesthood, Isaac now has the chance to learn from his older brothers. “It was cool because I was with my brothers and some of their friends,” Isaac says. “I felt the Spirit when I passed the sacrament for the first time.”
Along with receiving the Aaronic Priesthood and passing the sacrament, Isaac also attended the temple to perform baptisms. His father baptized him first, but then came a surprise:
“I got to baptize my brother!” Matthew says.
“I never expected Matthew to baptize me,” Isaac says. “But he’s a priest now, so he could. It was really a cool experience. I could feel the Holy Ghost.”
Matthew, Andrew, and Isaac aren’t the only brothers in the Clarkson family. There are four more: Levi (9), Eli (7), Sam (4), and Titus (2), and a baby on the way.
When President Nelson invited the women of the Church in October 2018 general conference to read the Book of Mormon before the end of the year, Matthew, Andrew, and Isaac, along with their father and younger brothers, decided to offer Mom their support. “We’ll read it with you!” they said. Every morning before seminary, they woke up to read together.
“When we took on this challenge, I thought it was going to take a lot of time,” Andrew says. “I worried that I wouldn’t have enough time to do everything I wanted to do, like play the guitar or hang out with my friends. But I realized that it just doesn’t work like that. The more I was into reading the Book of Mormon, the more time I actually seemed to have. I realized that if I keep up on reading the scriptures as much as possible, my life is balanced. I have more time in the day.”
Matthew was going through a hard time when the family started reading every morning. He says, “I wasn’t doing well in school. I struggled with my personal scripture study and my relationship with Heavenly Father, and I kept it all to myself. I didn’t talk about it with my parents.”
However, as Matthew spent more time reading the Book of Mormon, the gospel began to take first priority in his life. He also put more effort into school. He worked hard and got his grades up.
“I also realized how much Heavenly Father and my parents love me and how much they help me. And I have a greater testimony of Jesus Christ. He has helped me overcome bad habits and helped me get my life headed in the right direction. I’m so glad we took President Nelson’s challenge as a family. It changed my life.”
Accepting President Nelson’s invitation also strengthened Isaac’s testimony. “We circled the words God, Lord, Redeemer, Savior, and Christ every time we found them,” he says. “On the day we finished, I flipped through the Book of Mormon and saw all the words I had circled. I thought, ‘Man, that’s a lot!’ I had never noticed how many there were. I felt much more spiritual reading the Book of Mormon. I’m glad we did it.”
Matthew, Andrew, and Isaac are amazed that their family finished the Book of Mormon in just two months. “It usually takes us a year,” Isaac says. Together, they discovered the blessings of following the prophet’s invitation.
“If you do what you’re supposed to do,” Andrew says, “like building a relationship with Heavenly Father through prayer, scripture study, and staying fully active in the Church, life is so much better.”
These three brothers have helped each other progress in the gospel. They follow the prophet, who has called on members “to increase their faith in our Lord Jesus Christ and in His Atonement, to … [make] and [keep] their covenants with God, and to strengthen … their families.”1

While the others were swimming, Marlene and Jeremy became the Tom Sawyers of the group. “Jeremy was out there building a raft, and he said ‘Come in and help me,’” Marlene said. “So I went over and we started putting boards and logs together and tying them with string and rope. Then we just floated out on it.” Adult leaders nearby kept a careful watch on swimmers and rafters in case of emergency. In fact, Sister Lewis lent a hand building the raft.
The group had arrived in Mount Watson’s neighborhood, but the trek to the summit would begin the next day, after dinner and a good night’s rest. What the young ladies hadn’t counted on was rain—buckets of it. Maybe the mountain wanted to see how sincere they were about the climb. “The rain came while we were trying to get our dinner. It put out our fire and everything. Soggy macaroni, soggy everything,” said 15-year-old Becky Thomas. “But it was good, wasn’t it?” laughed, Suanne, her 17-year-old sister.
There were the inevitable problems of leaky tents, soaked sleeping bags, and dripping clothes. Luckily, Bishop Thomas, who had been rained out once on a similar trip, had hauled along a box of plastic garbage sacks. A large face hole punched in one corner transformed a sack into a makeshift rain coat and offered some protection until dinner was done. (To avoid danger, the use of the plastic bags was carefully supervised.) Later that evening, when one tent was flooded, those in well-pitched shelters courteously doubled up so that everyone could be dry and warm. There were also the usual sleeping struggles of avoiding roots, pointed rocks, and bumps in the ground, but eventually everyone managed to doze off.
The next day the girls left their backpacks behind, carrying with them only canteens and crackers and cheese for lunch, and mounted the assault on the peak. As the elevation increased, forests gave way to scattered trees, trees gave place to shrubbery, and finally, there was nothing to climb but barren, broken rock.
“For safety’s sake, we have a system—we keep talking to each other and keep each other aware of where we are,” Sister Visker said. “That way, if loose rocks fall, we’re able to give warning and get out of the way.”
“It was hard climbing,” said 16-year-old RaLene Neal. “Sometimes we were on our hands and knees.”
“But we had our fun, too,” 17-year-old Shelly Michelsen wrote in her journal. “We took turns sliding down a glacier and had a super time. Then we pushed on along the ridge until we reached our goal. I sat down as close to the edge as I dared and, like the others, looked in all directions. A cool breeze was blowing around my hot face, but I felt calm and restful. We were so filled with the beauty of our surroundings—the rippling lakes, the pine forests, mountains in all directions, even out into Wyoming. I felt very in tune with my Father. I thought of how he must have felt when he looked over all he created and saw that it was good.”
“One of the men in the ward told us before we left that it couldn’t be done, that we couldn’t climb to the top of Mount Watson,” Becky Palmer, 15, said. “So when we got there we felt like we had achieved the impossible.”
“I thought,” Shelly continued, “that even though we’re not always up in the mountains, we can still have the same feeling, the same reverence for God’s work. I think life with its hardships is a big mountain, but if we keep at it, there’s a time when we’ll reach the top and look down at what we’ve done, and we’ll know that it’s good, too.”
Maria Lecon, 15, said she was “most impressed with the spirit we felt up there. I knew that the Lo.”
For Edie Coats, 17, it was a time of gratitude. “We just moved here from Virginia, and I was a little bit scared. But the first Sunday, everyone was so friendly to me. They were coming on this trip the next Saturday, and they wanted me along! I think by coming on the trip, I really got to know the girls in my ward.”
Most of the girls kept journals of their experiences and feelings, and there on the mountaintop, the group paused and wrote poems. “I felt like every poem was sort of a journal in itself,” Shelly said, “because it came from the heart and described a special time in our lives.” At a morning meeting the next day, the young ladies read their verses to each other.
Of course, the slide down the snowbanks left a pleasant memory, too. “We used the same garbage sacks we had used before in the rain as ’sleds,’” said Rachel Palmer, 17. “The glacier was less slick at the bottom—it looked steeper than it was. But a couple of times we did have to use our feet for brakes.”
Dinner that night and breakfast the following morning were cooked and served in number 10 cans, the main “pan” carried on the excursion. “We did bring utensils and a skillet or two, but the large cans really helped keep weight in the packs to a minimum,” Sister Visker explained. Around the campfire the girls each shared one positive thing they had learned about someone else since the trip began and also drew names to see who they would be the “wood elf” for. Wood elves do mysterious, anonymous kind deeds for someone else in a camping group.
The next day was to have been spent “puddle jumping” (visiting one lake after another). “But when we got to the first one, Wall Lake,” said Marlene Neal, 15, “we liked it so well that we stayed.” Activities at the lake included cliff diving, fishing, and swimming.
“We had to check it out and make sure it was safe before we started cliff diving,” Marlene explained. “We had to make sure there were no rocks on the bottom and that the water was deep enough. And an adult supervisor trained in lifeguarding and first aid had to be there all the time, too.”
At first, the divers were scaring the fish away, so the swimmers moved to another location. Then one of those fishing scared the fish away! “Sister Visker helped me get a little fake fly way out away from the shore,” Maria said. “As soon as it landed in the water, a big fish came along. It scared me, so I threw a rock at it.”
Marlene also had her problems fishing: “I’d hook the grass at the bottom and all my lures and sinkers would get torn off. But it was still fun.”
The various activities of the day left the girls tired, but not too worn out to express their feelings during a testimony meeting. They read their favorite scriptures to each other, spoke again of their love for nature, for the gospel, and for the Lord, and talked about the lessons they had learned on their trip: lessons of perseverance, sacrifice, relaxation, and sharing the load.
“It’s unbelievable the feeling you get on top of a mountain,” said Sandy Kay, 17. “If you have an open mind and a humble heart, it can really help straighten out your priorities and help you see the reason why we’re here.”
The next morning the girls had loaded up their gear and they were on the trail home. But they weren’t rushing away. Somehow they wanted to linger just a bit longer, savoring the strength of the hills they had learned to love.

After my family and I moved to a new state, I prayed constantly to find friends with whom I could talk about the gospel. As I prayed, I felt comforted, and a few months later I made some incredible friends. I can count on their support, and they have helped me to develop an even greater love for the gospel. I know that friends are important and they can make it easier for us to live the gospel.
Sarah P., 16, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

In early 1991 I was involved in a car accident that left most of my body paralyzed. Since then, I have had a lot of time to compare my life before that incident with my life now. In some ways it is similar. Yet there are numerous differences.
Before my accident I had the attitude that I should try to perfect the four basic aspects of my life. Ranked in order of importance at that time, they were (1) physical ability, (2) mental ability, (3) spirituality, and (4) emotional stability.
Now the order of importance of these four vital cornerstones of my life has changed.
Before the accident, my perspective was that of an 18-year-old athlete who thought he knew everything. Although I grew up in a religious family and felt good about my beliefs, spirituality was not my top priority. Instead, physical strength, speed, and quickness were more important to me than either religion or school. I felt that going to school was a necessity simply to remain eligible for sports.
Although I did fairly well academically, I often found myself practicing for the football team or the baseball team rather than studying for a test or completing a class assignment. I had academic goals and important religious goals, but these came after my athletic aspirations. The experiences I’ve had as a result of the accident have helped me better understand what is really important.
Since 16 February 1991, the day I fell asleep driving my truck, I have had the opportunity to look at life from a completely different viewpoint. I have had a lot of time to think about and adjust my priorities. I still love athletics and believe they have the potential to build character. But they are not the most important thing in my life anymore. I recognize now that my religion, my family, and my friends are the foundation for my happiness, not winning at sports.
My mind is the most precious asset I have, and I realize that it must be exercised even as my legs or my lungs were exercised in athletics. I am grateful for the opportunity I have to attend college and gain knowledge. While I have slowed down physically, I have accelerated spiritually and mentally.
Realizing that obtaining knowledge and increasing spirituality are ongoing processes, I believe that my new priorities are helping me achieve those elusive goals.
Not many people have the chance to live life from two very different points of view. I am grateful I have had this opportunity. It has helped me place my spirituality, mental capacity, emotional stability, and physical ability in order of their importance.

For us, those missionaries—Elders Reed Harris and Marty Kemsley—were like two angels. When they taught us how to hold a family home evening, they brought their whole zone. Somehow we managed to fit all those missionaries into our small home. The first hymn we sang was “Love at Home.” We’ve always remembered how that made us feel.
Later, Elder Harris asked us, “Do you know why we were so persistent to teach you and bring you to church?” Then he answered, “Because we know that you are going to be leaders in the Church.”
We never forgot that. Since our baptism, we have had many wonderful opportunities to try to emulate the Savior as we have served Heavenly Father’s children. I have served in many leadership positions, including as Relief Society president and Young Women president. Javier has served as elders quorum president, twice as bishop, and as stake president.
Recently we served a full-time humanitarian mission in Bolivia. That calling gave us the blessing of meeting many wonderful brothers and sisters, sharing our faith in Jesus Christ, and giving love, help, and humanitarian aid to some of our nation’s most vulnerable people and areas.

Then we have here a sister who tells about her experience. Her husband passed away, and then she writes, “After the funeral services were over, I took my five children and went home, and was left to sink or swim. And I sank; I was all alone. How was I going to look after those five children? Oh, sure, the bishop would see that I didn’t go hungry and that we were taken care of, and we had enough food to eat, and so on, but we needed something more than that.”
And then she said this, “I need Special Interests because I need to know that there are other people in the world with feelings like mine. I need to meet other widows who have managed to raise their children alone successfully, without the hang-ups psychologists insist they will have. I need to know that some people’s problems are worse than mine, so I can recognize and count my blessings. I need people to talk to who fully understand my problems and needs. I need Special Interests because I have to learn how to handle my own problems. The first thing I learned as a widow was that no one else will help except in emergencies, and sometimes not then. As soon as the funeral was over, I repeat, I was left on my own either to sink or swim.
“Then,” she said, “your classes geared to the whole families don’t help us a bit, but a class I took this fall with the Special Interests showed me how I can communicate with my family and friends. There is no way you can fully understand our needs or problems, except you go through it yourself. Do you know what it is like to lose your wife or husband in death? It is nothing like losing your father or even your daughter. I know; I lost both before I lost my husband. Do you know what it is like to go through the hell of a divorce? Do you know what it is like to be a girl over 26, and still be single? You can’t know. We need each other. Some of us need small group activities. Some of us need large group activities where we can go and have to talk to people and visit. Sometimes we don’t feel like talking. Special Interests is not a dating bureau or a marriage bureau. As such it would be a complete failure. There are women in our stake who like to go places, but not alone. They come to our small activities hoping to meet other women with similar interests to go places with. One lady buys a season pass to the symphony every year, and she is still looking for someone to go with her.
“We resent being invited to the Young Marrieds activities. To me it is like a slap in the face to have the Young Marrieds or elders announce that Special Interests are invited to their party. I know you may not understand why I feel so strongly about it, but other Special Interests I have talked to understand, and most of the others feel the same way. I feel like this new Special Interest program is inspired of God. It is what we need, if it is done like it should be. I needed it eight-and-a-half years ago. Thank the Lord my president is working hard on it to do his part. Will you recognize us as a special group of people, long ignored and neglected with special problems and special needs and special interests? Some of us are raising special children, boys without fathers, girls without mothers. They have special problems and special needs. If our needs aren’t met, you are also neglecting some of their needs.”

Some years ago, President Romney and I were sitting in my office. The door opened and a fine young man came in with a troubled look on his face, and he said, “Brethren, I am going to the temple for the first time tomorrow. I have made some mistakes in the past, and I have gone to my bishop and my stake president, and I have made a clean disclosure of it all; and after a period of repentance and assurance that I have not returned again to those mistakes, they have now adjudged me ready to go to the temple. But, brethren, that is not enough. I want to know, and how can I know, that the Lord has forgiven me, also.”

What would you answer one who would come to you asking that question? As we pondered for a moment, we remembered King Benjamin’s address contained in the book of Mosiah. Here was a group of people who now were asking for baptism, and they said they viewed themselves in their carnal state:
“… And they all cried aloud with one voice, saying: O have mercy, and apply the atoning blood of Christ that we may receive forgiveness of our sins, and our hearts may be purified; …
“… after they had spoken these words the Spirit of the Lord came upon them, and they were filled with joy, having received a remission of their sins, and having peace of conscience. …” (Mosiah 4:2–3.)
There was the answer.
If the time comes when you have done all that you can to repent of your sins, whoever you are, wherever you are, and have made amends and restitution to the best of your ability; if it be something that will affect your standing in the Church and you have gone to the proper authorities, then you will want that confirming answer as to whether or not the Lord has accepted of you. In your soul-searching, if you seek for and you find that peace of conscience, by that token you may know that the Lord has accepted of your repentance. Satan would have you think otherwise and sometimes persuade you that now having made one mistake, you might go on and on with no turning back. That is one of the great falsehoods. The miracle of forgiveness is available to all of those who turn from their evil doings and return no more, because the Lord has said in a revelation to us in our day: “… go your ways and sin no more; but unto that soul who sinneth [meaning again] shall the former sins return, saith the Lord your God.” (D&C 82:7.) Have that in mind, all of you who may be troubled with a burden of sin.
And to you who are teachers, may you help to lift that great burden from those who are carrying it, and who have their conscience so seared that they are kept from activity, and they don’t know where to go to find the answers. You help them to that day of repentance and restitution, in order that they too may have that peace of conscience, the confirming of the Spirit of the Lord that he has accepted of their repentance.

Shortly after coming home from my mission, I remembered what I learned from the wonderful people on my mission. I was hesitant at first, but I relied on the Savior to help me overcome my fears and start dating again. It took some time, but I eventually got engaged to my best friend from high school. He knew everything about me, including my fears and my experiences, and I was overjoyed to be with him.
But I was terrified. He was one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I knew, but I still worried that my marriage would fail as my parents’ did. My faith in an eternal marriage was faltering.
With these thoughts swirling around in my head, I turned to prayer and was prompted to talk to my mom about her experiences. I asked her why it was worth getting married when I could avoid the potential pain by not getting married.
That’s when my mom bore her powerful testimony of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. She reminded me that no matter how we struggle in life, the Savior is always there to buoy us up. If we trust in Him, then we have no reason to fear for the future.
My mom’s advice brought Doctrine and Covenants 6:36 into my mind, which says, “Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.”
If we live in fear of what could happen, we will never get to experience anything, good or bad. The whole point of being here on earth is to have a body and to be tested, but the Lord also wants us to experience the great joys that He has in store for us.
A few months later as I focused on Christ and pressed forward with faith, my husband and I were sealed in the temple. Even though we have our challenges, we focus on Christ. Keeping Him at the center of my life and my marriage has made all the difference, and I have experienced more joy than I thought possible. My life has gotten better every time that I’ve put my trust in the Lord over my fears.
President M. Russell Ballard, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, recently taught: “There is hope in the Lord Jesus Christ. There is hope for all in this life. There is hope to overcome our mistakes, our sorrows, our struggles, and our trials and our troubles. There is hope in repentance and being forgiven and in forgiving others. I testify that there is hope and peace in Christ.”1
As we keep our covenants and strengthen our faith in Him, I know that He will bless us. I am so thankful for His Atonement, which has allowed me to heal from my trials and my past, and has given me the strength to experience courage, hope, and anticipate miracles in my future. When we keep Him as our focus, regardless of our fears, we can always have hope for our eternal relationships.

Sometimes confirming and restraining revelations are combined. For example, during my service at Brigham Young University I was invited to give a speech before a national association of attorneys. Because it would require many days to prepare, this was the kind of speaking invitation I had routinely declined. But as I began to dictate a letter declining this particular invitation, I felt restrained. I paused and reconsidered my action. I then considered how I might accept the invitation, and as I came to consider it in that light, I felt the confirming assurance of the Spirit and knew that this was what I must do.

The speech that resulted, “A Private University Looks at Government Regulation,” opened the door to a host of important opportunities. I was invited to repeat that same speech before several other nationally prominent groups. It was published in Vital Speeches, in a professional journal, and in several other periodicals and books, from which it was used as a leading statement of the private university’s interest in freedom from government regulation. This speech led to the University being consulted by various church groups on the proper relationship between government and a church-related college. These consultations in turn contributed to the formation of a national organization of church-related colleges and universities that has provided a significant coalition to oppose unlawful or unwise government regulation in the future. I have no doubt, as I look back on the event, that this speaking invitation I almost declined was one of those occasions when a seemingly insignificant act made a great deal of difference. Those are the times when it is vital for us to receive the guidance of the Lord, and those are the times when revelation will come to aid us if we will hear and heed it.