Gospel Story Finder

“Look!” Danielle lounged against the bed, holding a pencil “cigarette” between her fingers.
“You look like a girl in the magazines,” Sidney said. “Will you smoke when you grow up?”
Danielle frowned. “I don’t know.” They all knew that her mom smoked.
“People die from smoking. Aren’t you worried about your mom?” Jessica asked.
Danielle tossed the pencil down. “Remember the policewoman who came to school and talked about drugs? Well, I went home after school that day and asked Mom to quit.”
“Wow!” Jessica exclaimed. “What did she say?”
“She said that she’d tried to quit when I was a baby, but it was too hard.”
“That sounds like my parents,” Sidney said. “When I told them that drinking alcohol was bad, my dad said, ‘It is a tradition in our family to drink wine, and I’m not about to break tradition!’”
“It’s strange,” Danielle said. “They teach us in school not to do something, but everyone still does it—even our parents and teachers.” She glanced at Jessica. “Everyone but your family.”
Jessica’s face grew hot. She didn’t know what to say. She was relieved when Sidney’s mom called to her. “Jessica, your mom is here!”
Jessica ran for the door. “Bye, Danielle. Bye, Sidney. I had a lot of fun.”
As Jessica joined her mom, she thought, It’s too bad Danielle’s mom smokes. If Mom smoked, I’d worry about it all the time.
Mom saw her frown. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” Jessica jumped into the car. “I’m just glad you’re so healthy.”
Mom started the car and pulled into traffic. “I’ll feel healthier after this baby is born.”
“A few weeks, right?”
“Right. That’s why Grandpa is watching you kids tonight. Dad and I are going on a date before life gets too busy.”
“Yahoo! Another late night!”
Mom laughed. “But not too late. Tomorrow is Sunday.”
Later, when Kaylie and Meghan were in bed, Jessica and Grandpa played games and talked.
“You’ve been painting your nails, Popcorn.”
Jessica smiled at her nickname. “Sidney and Danielle painted my nails.”
“I remember them—two little pixies.”
“That was a long time ago, Grandpa. We’re growing up now. I’m graduating from Primary in a few months.”
“A young woman! Not my granddaughter!” Grandpa harrumphed. “Pretty soon you’ll think you know everything—just like your mother at your age. Why, she was the one who persuaded me to become an active Latter-day Saint.”
“Grandpa!” Jessica gasped. “I thought you were an active member of the Church all your life.”
Grandpa shook his head. “I joined the Church when your mother was a young girl. Before I joined it, I smoked and drank. Later, I went back to my old bad habits. It was hard to quit again.” Grandpa shrugged. “I finally just gave up trying.”
Jessica stared at him. “And Mom got you to quit?”
“She came home one day singing about eternal families. She wanted to know which temple we were sealed in. When I told her that I couldn’t go to the temple, she cried.”
“But you were married in the temple, Grandpa! Mom told me.”
“Yes, but only after preparing myself. I had to work at it.”
“Did you ever feel like smoking again?” Jessica asked, remembering Danielle’s mother.
“All the time. But whenever I did, your mother knew. I can see a lot of her in you.”
Grandpa poured them each a glass of apple juice, and they went out to the back porch swing. Something was troubling Jessica, but how could she explain it to Grandpa? Finally she said, “Grandpa, our family is different.”
Grandpa grinned. “Downright peculiar.”
“Grandpa!” Jessica was relieved that he wasn’t angry, but she still needed help. She remembered how embarrassed she had felt when Sidney said that Jessica’s family did everything right. Why was she embarrassed about being good?
Grandpa took a sip of his juice. “So you don’t like being different.”
Jessica shrugged. “Danielle’s mother smokes, and Sidney’s parents drink wine, but our family never does anything like that. Some of the kids at school watch movies that Dad and Mom won’t even see. I just feel like I’m kind of strange.”
Grandpa smiled. “You are strange, Popcorn.”
“Grandpa, I’m not joking. It’s hard to be different. I’m afraid I’ll lose my friends.”
Grandpa got up and went inside. He came back with his well-worn scriptures and thumbed through the pages. “‘But ye are a chosen generation,’” he read aloud, “‘a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light.’”* He looked up. “Do you know what that means?”
“That we’re supposed to be different?”
“Yes, and we are different. You accepted the name of Christ at baptism, Jessica, and you promised to follow Him. Now you are getting old enough to see more clearly what that means and the wonderful difference it makes.”
Jessica thought it over. “My friends see the difference, too, Grandpa.”
“If they are true friends, they’ll stand by you. Some of them may even stand with you.”
Jessica thought, Maybe Grandpa’s right. Mom stood for what was right, and Grandpa quit smoking. What if I stand by Danielle?
She smiled up at Grandpa. “I’m glad Mom helped you quit smoking. Otherwise we might not be a forever family.”
“I’m glad, too, Popcorn. I’m glad, too.”

My wife, Mary, and I have someone we love dearly who has struggled for much of her life with certain aspects of the Church. She loves the gospel, and she loves the Church but still has questions. She is sealed in the temple, is active in the Church, fulfills her callings, and is a wonderful mother and wife. Through the years she has tried to do those things that she knew to be right and refrain from doing those things that she knew to be wrong. She has kept her covenants and continued to search. At times she has been grateful to hold on to the faith of others.
Not long ago her bishop asked to see her and her husband. He asked them to accept a temple assignment to act as proxies for those who needed temple ordinances. This calling surprised them, but they accepted and began their service in the house of the Lord. Their teenage son had recently participated in family history research and found a family name for whom temple ordinances had not been completed. In time they acted as proxies and did the temple ordinances for this person and his family. As they knelt at the altar and the sealing ordinance was performed, this wonderful, patient woman who has searched for so long had a private spiritual experience by which she came to know that the temple and the ordinances performed therein are true and real. She called her mother and told her of her experience and said that while she still has some questions, she knows that the temple is true, that temple ordinances are true, and that the Church is true. Her mother wept with gratitude for a loving, patient Heavenly Father and for a daughter who patiently continues to search.

I was born and raised on my father’s cattle ranch in Roy, Utah, with very few neighbors nearby. I was the youngest of six children, and as a boy I was shy around people who were not in my family. On my first day at school, my brother Lowell, just two years older than I, took me to my first-grade classroom. Surrounded by children I did not know, I felt lonesome and the day seemed long until I could return home with my brother.
Soon I made friends at school and looked forward to seeing them each day. One friend, Larry Dawson, lived about a mile from my home. Larry invited me to his house for a birthday party. I had never been to a birthday party before. It was so much fun! I still remember some of the special toys Larry received—especially his new toy fire engine.
Larry and I rode the bus to school because we lived too far from school to walk. Larry got off the bus at the bus stop on the main highway just before I got off. He then had to cross the highway and walk half a mile (about 1 km) to his home. At that time cars did not stop when a school bus was loading or unloading students.
One day as we were returning home from school, a car speeding by the bus hit and killed my friend. I felt very sad. I missed being with Larry at school and on the bus. My mother and father comforted me by explaining that even though I wouldn’t see Larry anymore in this life, his spirit continued to live in the spirit world. Larry was so kind and good that I knew he would be worthy to live with our Heavenly Father. As I grew, I learned more about our Father’s plan for His children.
My brother Darrell, who was five years older than I, was a special friend to me. Darrell let me ride on his bike with him from our home on the ranch to the barn where he often worked. I rode the bike back to the house, then returned to the barn at the end of the day to accompany him on his ride home. I loved Darrell very much.
One day Darrell was coming home in our family car from driving my sister to her piano lesson. He stopped at the railroad tracks to wait while a long freight train passed. He did not see another train coming from the other direction. When Darrell started over the tracks, the train struck the car and my brother was killed. I was sweeping our driveway when my father pulled up in his pickup truck shortly after it happened, and I still remember the sadness we felt when he told my mother and our family of the accident.
President David O. McKay and Elder Spencer W. Kimball came to speak at my brother’s funeral. President McKay, then President of the Church, was related to my father. Elder Kimball, who later became President of the Church, had recently visited our stake conference and had stayed in our home because my father was the stake president. President McKay and Elder Kimball taught us about our Heavenly Father’s plan and said that we would be together again as a family. They said that we should not be afraid of death, and they taught us about the resurrection. They promised that my brother would live again and that our family could live together for the one thousand years of peace called the Millennium.
I was grateful to know that my friend Larry and my brother Darrell had kept the commandments so they could enjoy every blessing from our Heavenly Father. We do not know when we are going to die, so we should live every day so we will not be sorry if our time comes to return home. We need to speak in kind ways to our brothers and sisters and friends. We should not argue or treat others unkindly. We should follow the example of Jesus Christ. One of my favorite Primary songs reminds me of the things we need to do.
I’m trying to be like Jesus; I’m following in his ways.
I’m trying to love as he did, in all that I do and say.
At times I am tempted to make a wrong choice,
But I try to listen as the still small voice whispers,
“Love one another as Jesus loves you.
Try to show kindness in all that you do.
Be gentle and loving in deed and in thought,
For these are the things Jesus taught.”
(Children’s Songbook, 78–79)
When we keep all of our Heavenly Father’s commandments, we will be happy now and in the life to come. It also takes away our fear of dying because we know that if we are good, we will one day go home to live with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ forever.

In a town in Brazil, the missionaries were teaching Helvécio Martins, now a member of the Seventy, and his wife that Jesus Christ was the Son of God and that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was His church on the earth. Elder Martins said, “A marvelous feeling that we never before had experienced filled our hearts, certifying the truthfulness of the message.” (See Ensign, November 1990, page 26.) Soon afterward, they were baptized.

Have you ever wondered what it’s like to be buried alive? I have to admit it was never exactly on my top ten list of things to think about, until it actually happened.
And if it weren’t for a troop of LDS Boy Scouts and Hoover the Wonder Dog, I’d probably still be buried six feet under snow today.
Of course, if it weren’t for the Scouts, I wouldn’t have been buried in the first place. On one of the coldest, snowiest days Salt Lakers can remember, Scouts from Parleys First Ward and members of Utah area search and rescue units helped each other stage an avalanche rescue drill. I volunteered to be one of the victims. (Okay, so I didn’t actually volunteer. I got talked into it.)
We all met in the church parking lot early one Saturday morning, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the dark skies, subzero temperatures, impassable roads, and snow flurries would postpone our little exercise. No way. These Scouts were Wasatch Mountain born and bred. They live for snow. They ski, snowshoe, and snowboard on it all winter long. The things they were about to learn would be extremely useful to them. And they knew how important it was that the search and rescue dogs get some practice.
“We’re always in the mountains in the winter,” said Dan Kaelberer, 15. “It’s important to learn about the threat of avalanches and what to do if one happens.”
Tyler Olsen was especially unaffected by the bad weather. This would be the culmination of his Eagle Scout service project. He’d already been to sporting goods stores in the valley, distributing free backcountry safety literature for their customers. He’d helped at a special prep seminar for the Scouts, where they watched an avalanche video and received special instruction from Dan Davis, their Young Men secretary and owner of Hoover, a search and rescue dog.
So about 25 of us, including Scouts, their leaders, and a few news people, piled into four-wheel drive vehicles and headed for the hills—make that mountains. We’re talking Rockies.
Once we got up out of the Salt Lake Valley and up to Guardsman Pass where the drill was to be held, the weather wasn’t half as bad, and the scenery was incredible. Snow was everywhere, generously frosting the trees and covering the ground in a great, thick blanket. It looked soft and inviting—harmless, even. That’s probably what a lot of people think just before they put themselves in avalanche danger.
“A lot of people don’t realize that avalanches can happen so easily,” said Clark Whisenant, 13. “This project made me want to do a special research project on them for school. Avalanches are really dangerous.”
The search and rescue people had already arrived at the site. They’d brought dogs, snowmobiles, and an intimidating snow cat that moved like a tank, made strange noises, and seemed to be able to transport a number of people just about anywhere.
Before I could pull on my gloves, the Scouts were out running around with the dogs, leaping into huge snow piles and throwing snowballs at each other. “Maybe this won’t be so bad after all,” I thought, as I took a big juicy snowball right in the back of the head.
It was about a half-mile hike from the area where we left our cars into the site where the search and rescue people decided to stage the drill. Some of the Scouts walked, carrying the shovels and other equipment they’d brought along. Some went ahead on snowmobiles to prepare the site. As for me, I decided to ride the snow cat in. The dogs were riding in on it, and I wanted them to get acquainted with my scent so it wouldn’t take them long to find me when it came time for the rescue.
Once we got to the site, everyone went to work. The area was large and flat, with snow piled deep. They had been careful to select an area that really would be free of avalanche danger. The first order of the day was testing the snow, cutting a big, vertical block of it and looking at the layers for instability. If the boys were just out for a normal day of cross-country skiing, this would have determined where or if they would go in that area.
Next, they had to make the area look as if an avalanche had just occurred. That meant smearing injury makeup all over some faces, partially burying some people, and digging snow caves in which to bury others.
“It’s kind of fun to have injury makeup on your face and then be buried in the snow up to your shoulders,” said Andy Brinton. Now that’s an attitude for you! Since I was one of the lucky others who would be buried completely, I’d have to see if I could start thinking like Andy.
I’ll say this for the Scouts. All that snow camping they do every winter pays off. They dug me a snow cave about six-feet deep that was actually rather comfortable—just big enough for me to lie in. I crawled in, and then they handed me a walkie-talkie “just in case.” “Just in case of WHAT?” I wanted to ask. But they had already started filling in the entrance with snow blocks, followed by loose snow.
Now, it’s really not that bad in a snow cave. The natural insulation keeps you pretty warm. And since the snow usually has a density of 40–60 percent, there’s plenty of air. Still, I was depending on Dan to keep his promise that Hoover would have me out of there in 20 minutes at the most.
Dan O’Conner of American Search Dogs, Inc., whose dog Anderl would sniff out some of the other boys, explained to us that a dog could pick up a scent after a person has been buried only a few minutes. “The dog thinks, ‘I can smell the person, but I can’t see him, so I’d better go find him.’ That’s the name of the game.”
It wasn’t long before I heard feet crunching in the snow above me, and muffled voices talking in an excited tone. Soon I could hear frenzied digging, and then I saw the welcome sight of a pair of brown paws, then a black nose, breaking through the ceiling of my snow cave. In no time Hoover was all over me, licking my face and playing tug-of-war with my glove. He was just as happy to see me as I was to see him. He’d won the game. He scooted back up to the surface where the others were waiting, my glove in his mouth, proving that he’d found me. The others congratulated him, then helped me up and out.
What I saw when I got to the surface fascinated me. With remarkable precision, the Scouts and rescue people had organized themselves so that almost every inch of the avalanche area was being covered. The scenario was that a group of Scouts had been in the area when an avalanche occurred.
In one area, the avalanche “witnesses” were being interviewed, and the “injured” victims were being treated nearby. Another part of the area was being swept by people bearing electronic devices that would pick up signals from the transceivers that the Scouts might have been wearing at the a time of the disaster. In still another area, they’d organized a probe pole line, in which the members sank long, thin metal poles into the deep snow every foot or so, waiting for someone to sound the ominous cry, “I’ve got a hit,” if they struck something.
“I’d never been in a probe line, or anything like that, and it was really interesting,” said Joseph Mecham. “If there really was an avalanche, like at a ski resort, and you were a bystander, chances are they’d recruit you to help in the probe line if you knew what you were doing.”
When all the “victims” had been found, we gathered back at the snow cat to go over what we’d learned that day. The Scouts had been shown how to avoid avalanche-prone areas, how to be safer in winter sports, and how to assist search and rescue units if they need help when an avalanche occurs. The dogs had learned a lot too—it always helps them to sharpen their tracking skills and to be around groups of people in a rescue situation.
I’d learned all of the above, plus I’d gained a little confidence, knowing that I could handle some rather severe winter conditions.
But even with our newfound knowledge and skill, we agreed with Hoover when Dan asked him what it’s like to be caught in an avalanche.
“Rough!” Hoover responded. Or maybe that was “Ruff.”

It was July 4, 1976, and the huge, yellowed stones of the Western (Wailing) Wall, all that remains of the enclosure that was once part of the resplendent glory of Solomon’s Temple, echoed with singing: “God is with us; no one can defeat us.” The golden city of Jerusalem, made more golden by the ruddy glow of the setting sun, sang her victory song. Israel had amazed the world that morning with her daring commando raid on the airport at Entebbe, Uganda. Ninety hijacked Israeli hostages, facing the threat of death, had been rescued and flown back to Israel.
On the evening of that eventful day, I photographed soldiers and civilians whirling together in dancing circles, singing and praising God. The dusky evening light merged colors and shapes into a oneness. I stood next to a soldier as he leaned his head against his arm to pray at the rough stone of the Wall, while behind us common folk and government officials blended their voices in vocal prayer and thanksgiving for the glory of Israel.

As high school graduation approached, my friends and I eagerly anticipated our graduation dance. But when our school announced the date of the dance, I was devastated to learn that it was going to be on a Sunday.
“Mariela, this happens once in a lifetime!” one friend told me. “You should just go. You’ll never have to miss church again. But this once, you should skip church and go to the dance.”
I explained to her that it wasn’t just about missing church—it was about giving a day to the Lord. But as I thought about what she said, I wondered, “Would it really matter if I didn’t observe the Sabbath, just this once?” After all, my friends and I were soon going our separate ways, and we had looked forward to this event for years. The dance would offer us one last chance to celebrate together.
As I thought about my decision, I remembered that my father had taught me that the Sabbath day was “food” for the rest of the week. Could I really afford to miss out on the spiritual and temporal blessings the Lord promises to the obedient? I weighed my options, and I knew what my decision should be.
My friends didn’t understand when I told them about my decision not to go. Over the next several weeks, I felt disappointed every time I heard one of them talking about the dance, but I knew my choice was right.
As the dance approached, something unexpected happened. For some reason the school decided to change the date. Instead of being held on a Sunday evening, the dance would be held on a Saturday evening! I was so excited to be able to go after all and have a wonderful time with my friends. What made me feel especially happy was knowing that I had honored my commitment to obey the Lord.
I am grateful that I was able to attend the dance, but I realize that we’re not always blessed in this way. Sometimes we are required to make significant sacrifices for the gospel of Jesus Christ. But I learned then, and I know now, that a loving Heavenly Father always blesses us one way or another when we obey.

Watching over new converts is a high priority in the Santa Cruz Bolivia Paraíso Stake, where stake missionaries follow the progress of new converts for 18 months after baptism. “Two of the men on the high council work directly with bishops and their new converts,” says Guillermo Quintana, who served as stake president. “When someone new comes in, we speak to them, we go to see them, and we see that they get callings and make friends. We are learning to apply President Gordon B. Hinckley’s counsel to help each convert find a friend, receive a calling, and be nurtured with the good word of God” (see “Some Thoughts on Temples, Retention of Converts, and Missionary Service,” Ensign, November 1997, 49). As a result, 72 percent of new members baptized recently in the stake are still active.

President Quintana knows the importance of finding friends at church. The night of his baptism at age 18, his best friend told him he would never visit him again if he joined the Church. Ten minutes before the service began, Guillermo decided to go ahead anyway and left for the meetinghouse. “I lost my dearest friend that night,” he recalls. However, within two weeks he met the woman who later became his wife, and she became the friend who sustained him during his mission.

After his mission, he had an experience that changed his life. Deathly ill, he was rushed to the hospital. As he hovered between life and death, he felt spiritual comfort as an impression came to him that there were many things yet for him to do. The experience confirmed to him that he had important work to do in the Lord’s Church.

“Since that time I have prayerfully sought to know what the Lord would have me do,” says President Quintana. As he sought for ways to strengthen the stake, he often asked, “What do we want to achieve?” Then he and his counselors set concrete objectives for leaders and members. “We teach members not to be afraid to keep the commandments,” he says. “It’s the perspective we must give. Then the blessings come.”

I am reminded of a fur trapper who had earned a modest fortune trapping foxes. He decided to go south for the winter and left his trap lines in the care of a carefully trained young assistant. He taught him just how to set the traps and where to put the bait.
When he returned in the spring, to his disappointment there were very few fox furs.
“Did you do it just as I taught you?” asked the older man.
“Oh, no,” was the reply. “I found a better way.”
You who are bishops and quorum leaders, I urge you to give adequate attention to priesthood home teaching. Do not release the home teachers by attempting to accomplish what they should do in other ways. You may invent a thousand of them in an effort to strengthen your youth, but sooner or later you must come back to doing it His way.

There’s a place in Taiwan where a piece of the moon dropped in the ocean. Or so it seems. Standing on a barren, wind-carved rock at Yehliu (yeh-leo) Park, surrounded by solemn gray, cratered stone, the small group of LDS Scouts looked more like refugees on an alien world than teenagers ready to practice semaphore signaling.
But they broke out their flags anyway. Two of the young men in the group scampered up outcroppings, unfurled the semaphores, and with rapid arm swinging began spelling out messages to each other. Even on rainy days, Yehliu is crowded with sightseers, and the Scouts soon had an audience cheering them on. The Scouts flashed the red-and-white flags over their heads, down by their feet, out to their sides. Hours and hours of practice paid off as the sentences made sense and the signaling drill was completed.
Business taken care of, the Scouts were now ready for some fun. Like Scouts anywhere, this group from the Taipei Stake loves songs with hand gestures. They sang several of their favorites as they walked along the rock cliffs that dip down to form the Pacific shore. Then, as they rested, they spoke about Scouting and about the Church.
“I’ve been in Scouts for about six months,” said 18-year-old Hsieh Mi-ch’un. “I have been able to make quite a few good friends, and I’ve also learned a lot. I have been taught how to tie knots and do first aid, for example, and I know how to set up a tent. These things are fun to learn for someone who has grown up in a large, crowded city like Taipei.”
Liu Tao-chih said, “I’m only 13, but I’m the second oldest Scout in our group. I joined the Scout program because I want to serve people, to do a good turn daily. The core of our Scout group consists of the young male members of the Church. We train ourselves and some of our nonmember friends to explore outdoor life, to appreciate nature, to learn about things we never had access to before. Especially in our group, we emphasize training our Aaronic Priesthood members so that they will grow strong in the Church and be strengthened for their lives.”
Once a month, the Boy Scouts join with the stake’s Young Women for some sort of outing, like a recent talent show held in the stake center. But on this particular Saturday, anyone interested in learning about semaphore signaling was invited on the trip to Yehliu. Scoutmaster Wan Chin Li and Young Women leader Chou Yu-Ch’ung came along to supervise and to teach the group about using flags to send messages.
“Our activities are separate for the most part,” Tao-Chih explained, “as they are for Scouts and Young Women in the United States. But every once in a while we share an activity where there is mutual interest. We hope the young sisters can become more active in the Church and learn the many skills to help our country and our society.”
Li Chiu-hsiueh, 17, said, “The Church makes me very happy. And I’m glad to learn the things I learn by associating with the Scouts. We learn manners and mottoes that remind us to do good for others.
“One of the wonderful things about being a young woman is to be able to live happily,” she added. “The gospel teaches us how to be happy, how to find joy each day in serving others.”
The members, from the Hsin Tien and Taipei Third wards and the San Ch’ung Branch, spent a fantastic day at the beach. They saw rock formations that looked like church bells, a beached turtle, an elephant, and a queen wearing a crown. They visited the vendor’s stalls along the sidewalk leading to the park and wondered over the dozens of varieties of shells for sale. They even talked to one of the ladies about the Church when she asked who sponsored their Scout troop. They told her how the Church has promoted Scouting in Taiwan and how proud they are to be a part of the program.
Finally the light rain that had drizzled all day long turned into a downpour. With their semaphore flags tucked under their arms, the Scouts and Young Women raced to the bus. They knew the ride home would be short. And they knew there would soon be other fun activities, thanks to Scouting and thanks to the Church.
(The relationship between Scouting and the Young Men and Young Women programs varies from one country to another.)

In my own life I reached a point where I was totally worn out, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. For two years I served as a counselor in the Young Women general presidency. They were difficult and demanding years. They were years in which I tried to be a full-time mother to my children, and a full-time wife to an extremely busy husband. And I tried to be as much of a full-time counselor to the Young Women general president as I could.
Toward the end of the two-year period, my health was poor. I was losing weight steadily and couldn’t seem to do anything to stop the loss, and I wasn’t sleeping well. And yet, I kept wondering what I might do to manage all my affairs better. The General Authorities, always compassionate, were watching over me and as my second year in the presidency came to an end they extended a loving release from the calling.
Two weeks later my husband had a Church assignment to go to Jerusalem. I was asked to go with him.
On a beautifully clear and bright day, I sat overlooking the sea of Galilee. I opened my Bible and turned to the account in Luke of Martha, a woman like me “troubled about many things.” But instead of the words printed on the page before me, I thought I saw with my mind and heard with my heart these words: “Pat, Pat, thou are careful and troubled about many things.” Then the power of pure and personal revelation took hold of me as I read, “But one thing, [only one thing] is truly needful.” (See Luke 10:38–42.)
In Israel in May the sun is so bright you feel as though you are sitting on top of the world. I had just visited the valley of Ajalon where the “sun stood still” for Joshua, and indeed on that day it seemed to do so for me as well. As I sat pondering my problems I felt the same sun’s healing rays like warm liquid pouring into my heart—relaxing, calming, and comforting my troubled soul. I found myself lifted into a higher view of my life.
Spirit to spirit, our loving Father in heaven seemed to be whispering to me, “You don’t have to worry over so many things. The one thing that is needful—the only thing that is truly needful—is to keep your eyes toward my Son.”
“Learn of me,” he seemed to say, “and listen to my words; walk in the meekness of my Spirit, and you shall have peace in me.” (D&C 19:23.) Suddenly I did feel peace, and I knew that my life had always been in his hands—from the very beginning. And so are the lives of all of you, of every woman who wants to do right and to grow in faith, giving all she can.

This story took place in the USA.
Victoria watched in the mirror as Mom brushed her hair. It was almost time for church.
“Why do we go to church?” Victoria asked.
Mom set down the hairbrush. “We go to church to take the sacrament and learn about Jesus Christ.”
“But why?” Victoria asked.
“The bread and water help us remember how Jesus suffered and died for us,” Mom said. “When we take the sacrament, we remember all the good things He did. And we promise to try to do good things too.”
Victoria smiled. “So we can be like Jesus!”
“That’s right!” Mom helped Victoria put on her shoes. “Trying to be like Jesus makes us happy.”
At church Victoria sat quietly with Mom and Dad. Soon it was time for the sacrament. She bowed her head and listened to the prayer.
Then Mom pulled a book out of her bag. “This is a special book,” she whispered. “It can help you remember the Savior during the sacrament.”
Victoria opened the book. There were lots of pictures of Jesus Christ. One picture showed Him as a baby in a manger. Another showed Him getting baptized. Victoria remembered that story from Primary. She would get to be baptized one day too!
Mom held out the tray of bread. Victoria reverently took a piece. Then she looked back at her book. On the next page there was a picture of Jesus praying in a garden. Victoria knew that He suffered for everyone’s sins and felt their pain and sadness. He must love us a lot, she thought.
Victoria kept turning the pages. Many pictures showed Jesus helping others. In one picture, He was teaching people. In another one, He healed a blind man. There was even one of Him with children.
Next it was time for the water. Victoria bowed her head during the prayer. Then Mom passed her the tray.
Victoria took a little cup of water to drink. She thought about how Jesus loved others. A warm feeling filled her heart. She wanted to be kind and loving too.
“Mom, I want to be like Jesus,” Victoria whispered.
Mom smiled. “That makes me happy. And I know it makes Him happy too.”
Victoria smiled too. She loved Jesus Christ. She wanted to always remember Him.

One of my favorite hymns is “Because I Have Been Given Much” (Hymns, no. 219). As a member of an area presidency in the Philippines, I once attended a stake conference in the Philippines just a few days after a bad typhoon. Many of the members’ homes had been destroyed, and I wondered if they would come to the conference. But the Philippine Saints filed into the chapel with smiling faces. In that meeting, they sang “Because I Have Been Given Much.” I marveled at their faith and devotion.

You will find examples of them around the world—like Lisa. Lisa, age eleven, lives in England. She came home from school one day feeling very excited. She had been asked to read a part in the school devotional assembly the following morning. She said to her mother, “But some of the words are wrong.” Her mother discovered that one paragraph referred to God and the Holy Ghost as being one and the same person. Lisa and her mother decided to write a letter to Lisa’s teacher explaining that this paragraph was contrary to Lisa’s belief, and that she would feel much happier leaving it out.
The next afternoon her mother waited anxiously for Lisa to return home from school. She came home with a big, bright smile on her face. Not only had the teacher let her leave the paragraph out, but she had asked for more information about the Church. In addition, the teacher asked Lisa to present an assembly about the Church. All this came about because Lisa lived up to the covenant she had made and was willing to witness to the world her own beliefs.

Sister Quee and Brother Kargbo both have large families. This is because they include and extend helping hands to other children.
The Welfare & Self-Reliance manager visited with them on their farms as part of the Church’s member-livelihood agricultural project, and they expressed gratitude on how the livelihood project has elevated them to an advanced level of food security.
Because of the extremely large family size, meals were limited to one person per day while other available funds were used for school fees, rent, tithing, medical, and other expenses for daily upkeep.
They shared with the Welfare and Self-Reliance manager that the project support will help them feed their family so they have also planned to assist others who may be in need.

I cannot begin to tell you how much the New Era has meant in my life. I received a copy of the New Era at the Young Women fireside in November of 1985, and it has strengthened my life. At first it just sat on my desk collecting dust. Then one day I came home from junior high feeling depressed, so I thought I would take a little peek. It just so happened that I spent the rest of the afternoon reading it—all!
Today I had a quarrel with my friend. When I got home from school I just fell on my bed and started to read the New Era. Then I prayed. Then I apologized to my friend, and the rest of the day has been wonderful!
I love the New Era so much, and I always know it is there when I need it, because we’re now subscribing to it.
Wendy FindgrenSandy, Utah

The happiness I feel in seminary is a lot like the happiness I feel when I’m in the temple. Before I turned 11, my siblings and friends had all been to the temple and I hadn’t. When they would go inside, I always waited outside. I kept hoping for the day I would be old enough to go inside myself.
When I was finally old enough to go inside and do baptisms for the dead, I felt a great peace. Even though my family and friends had described to me the feeling of being in the temple, I was so excited that I was able to feel that for myself.

A few years ago we were standing in a large crowd of people gathered early in the morning along the waterfront of Apia Harbor in Samoa. It was the occasion of the National Holidays, when hundreds of people came to watch the Fautasi, or long-boat, races that sweep in from the ocean to the calmer waters of the harbor to cross the finish line.
The crowd was restless, and most eyes were turned toward the sea, watching for the first glimpse of the fautasis. Suddenly there was a roar from the crowd as the boats came into sight in the distance. Each of them had a crew of fifty powerful oarsmen dipping and pulling the oars with a rhythm that forced the crafts through the waves and foaming water—a beautiful sight.
The boats and men were soon in full view as they raced toward the finish. Even though these powerful men pulled with their might, the weight of a boat with fifty men moved against a powerful adverse force—the resistance of the water.
The cheering of the crowd reached a crescendo when the first long-boat crossed the finish line. We walked over to the place where the boats docked after the race had concluded. One of the oarsmen explained to us that the prow of the fautasi is so constructed that it cuts through and divides the water to help overcome the resistance that retards the speed of the boat. He further explained that the pulling of the oars against the resistance of the water creates the force that causes the boat to move forward. Resistance creates both the opposition and the forward movement.

A young man once walked the foggy streets in London, England, carrying a brightly burning lamp. An old man approached him, saying, “I will pay you if you can guide me to my hotel.” The young man lifted his lamp and took the older man to the appointed location. When they arrived the young man received not one, but three payments, because two other men who were lost had also followed the light through the fog.
“The light that we shine will be seen by the people around us, often without our knowing it,” says Sister Julie Jacobs, relating one of her favorite stories from the Ster, the Church’s International Magazine in the Netherlands.

During my school’s values-education month, our teacher asked us to write an essay titled “Why am I here?” It had to be a 10-paragraph essay on the topic of our purpose in life. As I read the topic on the board, my heart was filled with comfort and happiness. As a member of the Church, I had known my purpose as a daughter of God for many years. But as I looked at my other classmates’ faces, my heart was filled with sadness. Why? Because they started to murmur regarding the difficulty of the topic. They didn’t have the same knowledge I did.
When I turned in my essay, I realized how blessed I am to be a member of the one true Church. From that day on, my desire to serve a mission and share my testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ was strengthened.
I know that Heavenly Father loves me and wants me to be with Him someday. I also know that it is my purpose to serve others.