Gospel Story Finder

Four months into her second pregnancy, Delva was told that her baby had a rare chromosome disorder called trisomy 13. There was little chance for the baby’s survival, and because Delva’s life could also be at risk, doctors repeatedly advised her to abort the pregnancy. Faced with an uncertain outcome, Delva chose to trust Heavenly Father no matter what happened.
Christina Smith, photographer
I was told my baby wouldn’t survive for more than an hour if she lived at all. And if she did live, I was told she would have no quality of life. My doctor strongly advised me to terminate the pregnancy. I went to another doctor and was told the same thing: terminate the pregnancy.
Then I went to a doctor who was a friend and a member of the Church. I hoped the Spirit might prompt him to provide a different diagnosis. He looked at all the test results and ultrasounds and expressed the same concern as the other doctors. But he told me he would fast and pray for my family and hope for the best.
I saw many different doctors and specialists throughout my pregnancy. Each time they suggested termination because they feared the pregnancy would put my life at risk. But I couldn’t imagine doing that.
My husband and I were willing to live with whatever happened. If our daughter passed away, we would know that she is a precious spirit. If she lived and it was going to be a struggle, we had faith that we would be able to handle it.
It was still very difficult. I tried to keep my emotions inside because I had a two-year-old daughter and I didn’t want her to see me fall apart. I didn’t know what to do, what to think, or where to turn for help. My husband, friends, and family were supportive, but I felt that they did not fully understand what I was going through. The only person who could truly understand was the Lord. I prayed continually for comfort and guidance.
Eventually, I met with our bishop and explained what was going on. He invited the ward to fast for our family. This was a turning point for me. I began to feel heaven’s guiding light in every decision I had to make.
At eight and a half months, I went in for a 4D ultrasound.
Our baby was due in a few weeks, and I realized that it could be the end. I also wanted to have a recording of my daughter’s heartbeat to put inside a teddy bear to have something to remember her by.
In previous ultrasounds, doctors couldn’t see any physical features. Because of this, they said our daughter’s hands would be stubs and her face would be deformed. The images in a 4D ultrasound are more detailed, so when the technician began the ultrasound, I saw my daughter’s perfect hand waving at me on the screen. I also saw two perfect eyes and a perfect mouth. I had an overwhelming feeling that she wasn’t going to die.
When our daughter, MeLa, was born, specialists were standing by but were not needed. MeLa did not have trisomy 13. Doctors and specialists could not explain why, but my husband and I knew it was a miracle.
After MeLa was born, doctors recommended additional genetic testing to determine if she had any abnormalities. The test results revealed that she did have a rare genetic condition. The geneticist was concerned that MeLa would be blind, deaf, and unable to walk and talk. Today, however, while she does have some developmental delays, MeLa is able to see, hear, and use a training device to assist her in walking. She also says words here and there. She’s the happiest kid!
We are so grateful for the blessings we have received through this whole process. We know that Heavenly Father is the ultimate Creator and the ultimate Decider of life. We are just blessed to be a part of it. Every day we look at MeLa and know that she’s a miracle. Our children bring happiness to our lives and remind us that we have much to be grateful for.
Delva and Kirkome Netane enjoy the time they spend with their children, Teisa (right) and MeLa (left).
Though Delva’s second pregnancy was difficult, Delva and Kirkome are grateful for the blessings they have received. “This experience has brought our family closer to one another and closer to the Lord,” Delva says.
Recalling the difficult pregnancy, Kirkome says, “I was in turmoil. But my wife and I held on to our testimonies of the gospel. We held on to hope and agreed that if there was any chance we could give our daughter, we would do our best.”
“It is a blessing that we get to play with MeLa every day and see her smile,” Kirkome says. “It’s a constant witness to us that God is in control and that answers to prayers can come to us more vivid and alive than anything we could ever imagine.”

Pain and concentration contorted Clint Smith’s features as the 17-year-old clung desperately to the cliff face with one hand. A faint clatter of pebbles meeting the earth reached his ears from some 50 feet below. While climbing the massive granite wall, his feet had slipped from beneath him. Gravity tore one hand from its hold and threatened to unglue the other.
The scene would be frightening if you didn’t know that Clint is an experienced climber decked out in safety gear and securely attached to a belay line handled by a man with more than 30 years of climbing experience. After an agonizing moment, Clint got his feet back under him and smoothly ascended the remaining rock to the top.

President Kimball’s wife, Camilla, has devotedly and lovingly followed her husband every step of the way. I remember one night in Samoa when both President and Sister Kimball had temperatures of 104 degrees. Early the next morning they were the first ones on the bus. He conducted the meetings, and they fulfilled all their busy schedule throughout the day, not just enduring, but being gracious and considerate and thinking of the needs of everyone else around them.

A long time ago there lived a handsome king in a gorgeous hilltop palace in a beautiful green land. This king had many servants and costly clothes and delicious food to eat. His crown was covered with rare jewels that shone and twinkled as he turned his head from side to side when he rode in parades.
The king was a good man and a kind man, but because he had never been poor, he didn’t understand the problems that poor people have. He had never had to work hard in the fields or take care of sick children, so he didn’t know what it was like to be weary or very worried.
One day as the king was riding through the countryside in his carriage, a carriage wheel began to wobble. A poor laborer who was working nearby saw the carriage stop. He hurried over, bowed to the king, and offered his services. Pleased that the laborer helped so efficiently and willingly, the king removed his cloak and gave it to him. Now, the laborer needed food for his family, not a cloak that he would never wear, but he humbly bowed and thanked the king.
Another day, when some enemies from afar invaded the king’s land, he sent his ablest soldiers to fight them. His soldiers fought for three days and drove the enemy away. The king was so happy about it that upon the soldiers’ return, he had his entertainers put on a show for them. Now, what the soldiers really wanted was to go home and go to bed because they were exhausted. However, they didn’t wish to give offense, so they humbly bowed before the king and smiled as they watched the show.
One spring a sickness spread throughout the land, and many children became very ill. Mothers and fathers stayed up night after night, caring for their sick children and praying that they would get well.
During this troublous time the king, who had no children, decided to have a beautiful ball and to invite the whole kingdom. He had heard that many families had sick children, but he thought that a ball would cheer them up. The parents cried when they received their invitations because they knew that they must attend. They grieved at leaving their sick children, but the king had such a wonderful time at the ball that he didn’t notice that no one else did.
That night, after the king went to bed, a servant put a container of fireplace embers and ashes just outside the palace door. He had been too eager to get home to his children to dispose of the contents properly. Later, another servant was carrying paper decorations from the palace. He saw the container by the door and, not realizing that it contained smoldering coals, piled the decorations on top of the ashes.
Early the next morning a mother trying to comfort her sick child happened to look out the window and see the whole side of the palace on fire. She sounded the alarm immediately, and the king and the palace workers escaped with their lives. But except for the night clothes that they were wearing, they lost all their possessions. The palace and everything in it were destroyed!
The king stood a safe distance from his once-beautiful palace and watched it burn. His face was covered with soot, and he shivered in the crisp night air. One by one his servants slipped away to return to their families in the countryside. They were afraid to ask him to go home with them, because they knew that he was used to the finest of everything.
So the king crept closer to the charcoaled remains of his palace and sat there all night.
The next day his subjects wanted to take something to the king to let him know that they were sorry for his loss. They knew that whatever they took would have to be something splendid, something fit for a king.
The tinsmith and his wife decided to take a beautiful silver tray and pitcher. When they delivered it to the king, he thanked them kindly. But after they left, he wished that they had brought him some water and a loaf of bread instead, for he was hungry.
The tailor and his wife, forgetting that the king no longer had a bed, took him a pair of satin sheets trimmed with gold thread. The king quietly thanked them, but after they left, he thought that some warm clothes would have been more useful, for he was cold.
When a farmer came with a fine horse as his gift, the king was a little more pleased. At least now he could ride to the river and wash. The king humbly thanked the farmer, but still he wished again that the gift had been some food.
The king could have commanded the people to bring him whatever he wanted, but somehow, without a palace, fine clothes, his beautiful crown, and many servants, he didn’t feel much like a king anymore. He didn’t feel like giving commands.
He rode to the river, washed his face and hands, and drank his fill. Then, as he sat there and wondered and worried about what to do, the poor laborer who had repaired his carriage wheel approached him. The laborer bowed as he held out the cloak the king had given him. “This has never been worn by anyone, Your Majesty, since you gave it to me. I have no use for it.” The laborer was immediately embarrassed by his own words, for he thought that he sounded a bit ungrateful. But the king smiled at the laborer and took the cloak and wrapped it about himself. This man would have been more grateful for food, the king thought, just as I would be now.
The laborer had barely left when a group of musicians and dancers came by. There on the banks of the river they put on a show for the king. The king wanted to cry out, “Don’t bring me music and dance; bring me food and a warm place to stay.” Then he thought of his valiant soldiers, tired and dirty, who had had to sit through a palace show when what they had needed was food and rest.
And he thought of the tired and weary parents who had had to leave their sick children in order to attend his ball. What an inconsiderate and foolish ruler I have been, he thought. If only I could have back my palace, I would be truly kind and help my people according to their real needs.
A long time after the musicians and dancers had left, a shepherd boy approached from the hills. He saw a man, tired and with tears in his eyes, sitting by the river. Not knowing that the man was his king, the shepherd boy sat down beside him and shared his bread and cheese with him.
When the boy returned to his flock, the king mounted his horse and rode back toward the remains of his palace. He was astounded to see loyal subjects from throughout his kingdom hewing logs and shaping stones to rebuild his palace.
The king was grateful for the chance that they were giving him. And he vowed that he would be a much better, kinder ruler.
And he was.

Isn’t Christmas exciting! Don’t you relish the time with friends and loved ones, fun gatherings and gifts, and especially the reason to celebrate it all? Have you ever wished you could celebrate the whole year long? Well, if you happen to live in West Plains, Missouri, you can.
During the month of July, West Plains is like the rest of the Midwestern states—hot and sticky. Not exactly the time of year when most people are thinking about singing carols or wrapping gifts. But the youth decided it would be the perfect time to begin their preparations for a holiday celebration. Since they hosted their stake’s youth conference, they decided to include all the youth in a project that is ongoing in West Plains. Every year, members of the West Plains Ward find a way to help their local hospice, a program that provides support services to terminally ill patients and their families.
“The Relief Society in our ward has made lap quilts and other service projects for hospice,” says Stephanie Jones, a Laurel. “We decided that it would be fun to do some service projects that the youth could be involved in.”
So a few of the Laurels in the ward spearheaded the youth conference efforts as value projects, and everybody got to work.
The youth and their leaders decided that one of the nicest things they could do for the hospice patients and their families was to provide a simple Christmas decoration to brighten their homes. They decorated small, tabletop-sized Christmas trees, complete with ornaments and tinsel.
“When you or someone you love is ill, things like decorating for the holidays are sometimes forgotten,” says Angie Periera, the liaison from the hospice program who helped the youth put their project together. “But if someone else will do it for you, it makes it feel like Christmas. It’s a small thing, but it makes a big difference.”
Next, they decided that a message of love and hope would also be a great boost to people’s spirits, so they made personalized Christmas cards for each person who would be receiving a tree. Kyle La Brue and Buddy La Rue, two young men from the Osage Beach Ward, wrote “The Lord loves you and so do we” in their cards. Other youth used scriptures or wrote brief testimonies.
“Doing a project like this makes you think about your own family and friends,” says Mia Maid Julia Jones. “When we did our cards, we tried to let people know that we really did care about them, even if we didn’t know them.”
After the last tree was decorated and the last card was signed, the youth set out to show the hospice patients how much they cared through their actions. They spent the afternoon doing yard work, scraping and painting houses and sheds, even doing housework.
“Helping people at their homes can be awkward at first,” says Priest Justin Saunders. “But they really appreciated it and seemed glad to have us. It turned out to be fun.”
Apparently, people were more than appreciative. They were ecstatic. One woman, whose husband had been bedridden for some time, took pictures of the youth scraping and painting the shed outside their home. She wanted him to see them in action, even though he couldn’t get outside.
Another woman, Mrs. Estelle Conquest, needed a wheelchair ramp built outside her home to help her get out for simple things like collecting the mail.
“You have no idea how much something like this helps me,” says Mrs. Conquest. “These kids are just the greatest.”
After the projects were complete and youth conference was over, the gifts were stored and forgotten—but not for long.
Marie Taylor, a Laurel, spent a lot of time on her Laurel project. She coordinated the collection and wrapping of several large boxes—giant Christmas containers to be filled with food and delivered to hospice patients and their families. During youth conference, the boxes were wrapped and made ready to go. They wouldn’t be filled with food until the holidays, so they needed to be in storage for a while before they were used. But after being transported a few times, some of the boxes looked a little worse for the wear.
“I did a lot of crazy things to get those boxes,” says Marie, who rounded up her friends to help and then asked local merchants to let her take boxes they no longer needed. “Most of the store owners were nice, but I had to work for those boxes! At one place, with the permission of the owners, I actually climbed into the Dumpster to get a bunch of boxes out.”
So you can imagine her dismay when, just before the holiday season, she discovered that some of the carefully wrapped boxes had come unwrapped or were otherwise unready to be used for food.
“It was discouraging to do things over again,” says Marie. “But we really wanted them to look good. So the other girls in the ward and I had a wrapping party to re-do the damaged boxes. It turned out to be pretty fun.”
After the boxes were prepared to go again, they were finally ready to be given to the coordinators at the hospice office, which was just down the street from the business where the boxes were being stored. But this time the youth decided that loading piles of boxes into a car for transport wasn’t such a good idea. After all, that was what had damaged many of the wrapping jobs the first time around. They decided that since the boxes had such a short way to travel, they would form a human chain from the location where the boxes were being stored to where they needed to go.
There aren’t too many LDS youth in West Plains, so they invited Primary children, adult leaders, and anyone else who wanted to help. They donned elves’ caps and spread out right through the heart of downtown West Plains. The boxes were handed from one person to another, and soon they were all safely at their destination, ready to be filled with food from the West Plains Ward and other community groups.
The group attracted a bit of attention from passersby, who were invited to join in. They didn’t have many takers, but several people did find out where they could donate food to go inside the boxes.
“Doing a project like this really makes you feel good,” says Heather Camier, a Beehive. “It’s great to work together as a group for a good cause. It’s the best this time of year; it really makes it feel like Christmas.”
Most of the food boxes and gifts were delivered by hospice employees, but a few were given to the youth to deliver on Mutual night. Bundled in coats and singing carols, they carried food boxes, trees, and cards to a few of the people they had been able to serve in July. Of course it was a lot colder that night than it had been during the summer, but the warm feelings that come with service are the same no matter what time of year it is.
“Delivering the gifts and seeing how happy it made people was a lot of fun,” says Joe Jones, a priest. “It was also great to see how our service during youth conference really paid off.”
Soon after Mutual was over, the youth were at home, preparing to spend Christmas with their own families and loved ones. But the good feeling of helping others is hard to forget. It’s the kind of feeling they’d like to enjoy all year, not just at Christmas. And with youth conference coming up again this summer, they won’t have to wait till December.

Some things I learned by what I did, rather than from someone else’s actions. One Christmas a favorite aunt gave me a book of illustrated stories from the Old Testament. Outside, the weather was cold and the wind was howling. I couldn’t sleep. I waited until everybody else was asleep so that I wouldn’t disturb them, then gathered up my blanket and settled down near the forced-air heat vent and read that book for hours at a time. Before that I hadn’t been much of a reader, but I was entranced by that book. I really developed a love for the scriptures at that young age.

Shortly after my husband received his master’s degree, he considered returning to school for a PhD. This prospect daunted us since earning his master’s degree had been so difficult. We had two small children and longed to have a good job and maybe even a house.
That October conference, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles shared some of his experiences related to moving his young family to Connecticut for graduate school. We had also moved to Connecticut for graduate school. Then he described how he and his family had fit all of their possessions into their little car—we had done the same. He explained that when the trip began, his car had overheated and broken down not once but twice! Our vehicle also broke down twice.
Finally, he described a more recent experience of driving a reliable car by the spot where his car had broken down 30 years earlier. In his mind’s eye, he saw himself as a young father and said these words: “Don’t give up, boy. Don’t you quit. … There is help and happiness ahead—a lot of it. … You keep your chin up. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come.”1Elder Holland’s experience helped me feel understood and loved. His example gave me the courage to seek the spiritual witness that more education for my husband was the will of the Lord for our family. Five years and two babies later, my husband finished his dissertation. School was definitely challenging, but we were happy. We had followed the Lord’s will, and He had blessed us physically, spiritually, and financially.
Since that conference, I have often thought of Elder Holland’s talk. I have learned that as I strive to trust God through obeying the counsel of His prophets and apostles, good things really do come.
Melinda McLaughlin, Maryland, USA

Months later when I was serving as a missionary in Peru, I was reminded of my difficult scuba-diving experience as I invited people to strengthen their faith and change their lives. One family my companion and I especially loved to visit was the Rumays. Carina and Enrique and their two teenage daughters, Karen and Nicole, welcomed us often and quickly stole our hearts. It wasn’t long before Carina, Karen, and Nicole accepted the gospel and joined the church.
Enrique, however, needed a bit of extra help. Our message differed from what his upbringing had exposed him to, so it took us a while to earn his trust. Enrique had various concerns. The main aspect of the gospel that troubled him was the Book of Mormon. He had never heard of this book and had a hard time reading and understanding it. Its unfamiliarity made Enrique feel unsure.
At that point, Enrique was like me when I swam back up to the water’s surface: everyone else seemed to be descending with ease, while I was frozen with fear. Also like me, all that Enrique needed to be successful was some extra help.
This help came to him in various forms. He had missionaries to help him address his concerns and feel the Spirit. He also had ward members who fellowshipped him and taught him about his role as a father. The biggest help of all, though, was Enrique’s own family.
Even before their baptism, the Rumays made a habit of holding family prayer and scripture study. They got Enrique a set of scriptures with larger text and an audio version so that he could study the Book of Mormon more easily. These simple efforts helped Enrique immensely. At no time did anyone pressure him; they simply supported him. Through their actions, they told him, “We know you can do this.”
This help allowed Enrique discover for himself the power of the Book of Mormon. One day he announced that he had listened to the entire book and that he knew it was the word of God. About four months after the baptism of his wife and daughters, Enrique took the same step and was baptized too.
Enrique says he’s thankful for the help and patience he received that allowed him to reach where he is today. As a missionary, I felt blessed to have witnessed this family’s example of love as they helped their husband and father overcome his doubts. I was also grateful that I had my challenging scuba-diving experience that allowed me to relate in a small way to how Enrique felt and how other investigators might feel during the conversion process.

“What about family home evening? Aren’t we going to have it tonight?” my six-year-old daughter, Leilani, asked. A feeling of guilt flooded over me. My husband and I had been trying to hold family home evening, but with many claims on our time, we had fallen out of the habit. Leilani’s reminder made us recommit to not neglect family home evening for any reason.
As Leilani and her sister, Nadia, have gotten older, they have wanted to teach during family home evening what they have learned in Primary. They even draw their own visual aids to illustrate the principles they want to teach. We rejoice as parents to see them talking about the gospel and often can expand on the subject they have chosen.
“What about family home evening? Aren’t we going to have it tonight?” are words I am trying hard not to hear repeated. I know that when children are young is the best time to teach them. The world may exercise its influence, but if we work and grow alongside our children, we can reach our goal of raising men and women of principle.
Patricia Cárdenas de Prado, Guatemala

Rose bounced on her toes as she peeked out the window. Their friends would be here any minute!
Every year at Christmastime, Rose and her family acted out the Nativity. They always invited people to come over and join them. This time they had invited their neighbors and the missionaries! Rose was excited because their neighbors had a baby to be baby Jesus.
Everything was almost ready. Mom was taking the treats out of the oven. Rose’s little brothers had picked up all their toys. Ellen was getting the costumes. And Rose had even taped a big, yellow star to the wall for decoration.
“Rose,” Mom called from the kitchen. “Can you help Ellen get the costumes ready?”
“OK, Mom!” Rose turned to help her sister, who was carrying an armful of blankets.
“We have blankets, towels, and dress-up clothes from the closet,” Ellen said. “We can even use this basket as a pretend manger.” She handed Rose a big basket. Rose put a soft blanket inside it for the baby.
“Perfect,” said Rose.
Rose’s little brother Jack pulled a gray blanket over his head and made a funny face. “Can I be the donkey?”
Rose laughed. “No, silly! You wanted to be a Wise Man, remember?”
“Oh yeah!” said Jack. He grabbed the toy crown and put it on his head.
Then there was a knock at the door.
“They’re here!” Rose said. “I’ll get it.”
Soon the house was full of happy people. Rose helped everyone get their costumes on. The sister missionaries were the shepherds. Her brothers and sister were the Wise Men. The cute baby was baby Jesus, and his parents were Mary and Joseph.
Rose put on a soft, white hat. She was a sheep.
Finally everyone was dressed and ready to go. Elder and Sister Yancey, a missionary couple from their ward, opened the New Testament to the Nativity story. They read the verses out loud. Everyone acted out their part.
At the end of the story, everyone sang “Silent Night.” Rose felt warm and happy. She knew she was feeling the Holy Ghost. It felt like Jesus was close to her heart.
After the song, Mom played the video “Samuel and the Star.”* Ellen said a prayer. Then they brought out the treats. Everyone had fun visiting.
“So, what was your favorite part?” Sister Yancey asked.
“I liked singing the song,” Ellen said. “And playing with baby Jesus.” Ellen bounced the baby on her lap. She had been playing with him ever since the song ended.
“I liked bringing Jesus gifts,” Jack said. He was still wearing the pretend crown.
“What about you, Rose?”
Rose spread her arms out wide. “I liked everything!” she said in a loud voice. “But most of all, I liked having everyone here to celebrate Jesus. Because that’s what Christmas is all about.”

As to what extent that difference is, let me quote to you a letter. It was written a few months ago by a person who had a friend who thought enough of him to do exactly what we have been talking about. That is, the writer is a convert to the Church. He had a friend who brought him the gospel of Jesus Christ.

A few years ago, after this person became a member of the Church and received the priesthood, he took a girl to the temple. He was married for time and eternity. A few months ago a terrible tragedy struck. His wife died suddenly. There was no warning. This is the letter that he wrote while in the depths of his sorrow. He has given me permission to share this with you.

I am so miserable and lonely. I loved her so much, and the separation is so painful. I know the gospel is true. I know she is alive and working on her new assignment, but I do not find as much comfort as I thought I would.

I see good in all this. I see that my character can be strengthened. I see that my testimony has increased. I am grateful that I am a Latter-day Saint. I am appreciative that I have a knowledge of the truth and that I hold the priesthood.

If I did not have my testimony or my temple marriage, life would be so cumbersome. But the gospel is true, God lives, and Jesus the Christ, his Son, lives. Because he lives, she lives; and I will live. Because of my priesthood and the sealing powers of that priesthood, we will be reunited. That I know with a certainty tested in the flames of sorrow. But I miss the girl, my sweetheart. We were one, and half of me is beyond the veil.

When I was 15 years old, I decided to put the law of tithing to the test. I was working as a grocery bagger in Ponce, Puerto Rico. Every two hours I got a 15-minute break. During the break I would count how much I made in tips; then I would place my tithing money aside. After I started doing this systematically, I noticed that the amount of my tips increased! I don’t know that this was a result of divine intervention, but I knew that I was keeping a commandment and that when we keep commandments, sooner or later we receive blessings.
Of course, blessings don’t always come in quite the way we think they will. After I had been paying tithing for a while, I knew that what I was doing was sacred. It wasn’t just donating money to the Church. I was treating what the Lord had said with respect, and I was making sure my tithing was paid regularly and promptly. I was excited to do what I could to help build the kingdom of God.
Then one Sunday morning, I took longer than usual to wake up. My parents wanted to get to church early, so when I finally did get up, I was in a rush. I didn’t realize until we were at the meetinghouse that I had left my tithing money behind. “I’ll just pay it next week,” I thought. But I felt bad. I wanted Heavenly Father to know I was obedient.
After the meetings, we arrived home to find that our home had been burglarized. Jewelry, a video camera—pretty much everything that had value had been stolen. I rushed to my room and went through the drawer where I had left my tithing. It too was gone. Now I felt particularly bad. I felt that if I had remembered to bring my tithing to church, it would not be missing now.
Then I felt prompted to say something to my father: “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be OK. The person who robbed us took the Lord’s money, so he took something that is sacred.” I didn’t think the Lord would let that go unnoticed.
But I think the Lord wanted me to learn to be more careful with what belonged to Him. Soon the thief was apprehended, and everything was recovered—except my tithing money. To make things right, I took the same amount out of savings and took it to the bishop the very next Sunday. Ever since, I have always tried to pay my tithing in a timely manner. I know that tithing is a law from God, and that means I should take it seriously.

Let me tell you a story about a young man who faced just this question. Mark is not a real person, but his story is based on real experiences.

After his first year at BYU-Idaho, Mark served a mission in Brazil. When he returned, his high school sweetheart Carol convinced him to move to Cedar City, Utah, where she was attending SUU on an athletic scholarship. Mark transferred to SUU, but things did not work out like he had hoped. After dating for three months, Carol told Mark she was not happy with their relationship and thought they ought to date other people.

Mark was hurt and confused, but he did not give up. Since he really loved Carol, he continued to talk with her and finally convinced her to see him again. Their relationship picked up and over the next few months went really well. At least that is what Mark believed. In fact, Mark thought things were going so well he bought a ring and proposed to Carol.

On the night Mark proposed, Carol was surprised and upset. She turned Mark down and said things that really hurt Mark. Carol told him that she could see she would not be happy with him, that there were other guys she had met she wanted to date, and that it was time to move on. Mark was humiliated, frustrated, and angry; and he said some things in anger to Carol he should not have said.

Mark finished out the year at SUU, but he was unhappy and uncomfortable. It seemed to him that everything about SUU reminded him that Carol was the only reason he moved to Cedar City. He decided to return to BYU-Idaho.

In the first year Mark returned to BYU-Idaho, he moved in with some old friends from his old ward; but he did not date anyone. He was still angry and hurt. He doubted himself and was deeply afraid of rejection. Instead of fading with time, the anger he felt toward Carol festered. The pain and self-doubt and fear were like a dull ache in his heart. He was moody and cynical (especially about girls). He let his calling in the ward and his home teaching slide, and his roommates grew worried about him.

His roommates finally convinced Mark to go see the bishop. As he sat in the bishop's office that day, he knew that he should forgive Carol for the pain she had caused him, put his life in order, and get on with finding an eternal companion. But all of that seemed way too hard. It was as if he stood on one side of a great canyon needing to get to the other side, with no way across.

This was precisely what Mark needed. He had already planted the seed. He had served a mission and felt his testimony of the Savior grow. In his service to the Lord, the seed had sprouted and begun to grow; but it was not yet the magnificent tree of which Alma speaks. In fact, since the problems with Carol had festered, the young tree in Mark had stopped growing. Mark needed the tree to grow again and bear fruit. He needed to partake of the divine nature. He needed the gift of a merciful and forgiving heart, which he did not have.

In the Lord's framework, the first step in the growth of the tree is desire. Please turn with me to Alma, chapter 32, verse 27:

Whether you are planting the seed for the first time or trying to rekindle growth in the tree, desire is the beginning. For Mark the critical question was: Do you want to forgive Carol? Do you want to be rid of the anger and the pain and everything that you are feeling?

As Mark focused his mind and heart on what he really wanted, he realized he was sitting in the bishop's office because he wanted the anger and the pain to go away. It was the beginning of a desire to forgive.

With that beginning, Mark needed to take the second step and "give place" in his heart to the word of the Lord about forgiveness and the Atonement. The Lord said, "Of you it is required to forgive all men."[17] He also said, "I am Jesus Christ the Son of God. . . for behold, by me redemption cometh."[18]

To "give place" in his heart for these words, Mark needed to see himself with the eye of faith as a new person-forgiving Carol-rid of the anger and the pain through the power and mercy of the Lord Jesus Christ. For Mark to see himself with the eye of faith, he not only needed to imagine the tree growing and bearing fruit, but he needed to acknowledge in his mind and feel in his heart that it could happen. This is the beginning of hope.

This process did not happen all at once for Mark. There were more visits with the bishop, much prayer, and much searching of the scriptures. But there came a point where he really did see himself with the eye of faith. He began to see that the gift of forgiveness was possible. At that point, Mark took the third step: he kept his heart open to the Spirit. Alma's powerful promise in verse 28 became a reality. If you, too, will keep your heart open to the possibility of new growth, the Holy Ghost will cause the word of God to "enlarge [your] soul; . . . enlighten [your] understanding, . . . [and it will begin] to be delicious to [you]."[19]

Just as life-giving moisture in soil makes the young tree put out new roots and branches, the Holy Ghost makes the word of God come alive in the prepared heart. Let me give you an example of the word of God about the power of the Atonement and forgiveness.

Jesus suffered for our sins. But He also suffered our infirmities, our weaknesses, our pain, our humiliation, our self-doubt, our fear, and the effects of our anger. And He overcame them all. Everything we have suffered and are suffering, He suffered and overcame. This means that Mark did not need to carry the burden of fear, pain, and anger anymore. Jesus Christ, who has all power in heaven and in earth, who heals all wounds, would take the burden. Mark could give it to Lord; in fact, the Lord already had it.

When this thought took hold in Mark's heart, it was truly delicious to him. His understanding increased, and he began to see and feel light coming into his life. There was greater hope than before, because the Word is true.

Mark had come a long way; but there was much, much more to do. The young tree had begun to grow, but it needed much more care. This was the fourth step: nourishing the tree with great care. Here is Alma again (verse 37):

Since we are growing a tree, it means there must be a sustained period of nourishing and cultivating before there will be fruit. And it means also that the nourishing must be done with "great care." It is not easy to grow a fruit tree. But if it gets root and grows strong, the tree will bear fruit for a long, long time.

"Nourishing with great care" involved three things Mark's young tree needed to continue to grow and bear fruit.

First: A Fertile Heart

A fertile heart is a heart that is open to the Savior, ready to make new commitments of faith and righteousness. It is a heart where deep desires to be good and to do good combine with an attitude of willing obedience. It is a heart prepared to change.

A barren heart is full of the rocks and dense clay of pride, selfishness, lust, and greed. It is a heart committed to anger and sin and disobedience.

Mark's heart was open to the word of the Lord, but there were pockets of rocks and clay beneath the surface of his heart. His pride and the anger he had harbored toward Carol had hardened his heart. He had stopped being of service to others, and he had stopped feeling close to the Lord. The only way for the young tree to grow was for Mark to break up the rocks and the clay. Mark needed a broken heart. He had to change. Mark had to exercise his faith in Christ and repent of his lack of service and the pride, anger, and cynicism in his heart.

Mark learned something we all must learn: repentance is essential to the growth of the tree and its gifts of Christlike virtue. We all have in our hearts rocks and clay we need to break up. As we seek to become more like Christ, we all need to change. We all need hearts that are broken and spirits that are contrite. We all need to repent.

Second: Nourishment of the Spirit

The young tree began to grow in Mark's heart because the Holy Ghost made the word of God come alive in him. Growth will continue only with the continued nourishment of the Spirit. The Holy Ghost knows exactly what Mark needs to receive the gift of forgiveness and mercy. Through the "unspeakable gift of the Holy Ghost,"[22] Mark can receive increased faith and trust in God; deeper knowledge and understanding of the Atonement; feelings of love, peace, comfort and reassurance; increased empathy for others; and an increased testimony of the Savior. These are the nutrients Mark's young tree needs to grow and bear its precious fruit.

Mark knew from his mission and other experiences that to have the Spirit with him he needed to pray always with real intent, to feast on the words of Christ, to keep the commandments, and to do nothing that would drive the Spirit away. Mark's bishop reminded him of these things and also taught him that service to others would bring the Spirit into his life. The bishop promised that the Lord would bless Mark with a forgiving heart if Mark would act on the promptings of the Spirit to serve others.

Third: Deep and Extensive Roots

Mark's young tree needed to sink many roots down deep in his heart. Deep and extensive roots anchor the tree, protecting it against the winds and storms of life. Deep roots secure the nourishment an abundance of fruit will require. But deep and extensive roots also protect the soil of the heart, keeping us safe from floods of anger or despair or temptation and binding our commitments and desires to the Lord.

With a fertile heart and nourishment of the Spirit, the young tree can begin to take root. But Mark can act in faith to strengthen and deepen those roots. He can begin with his roommates, making sure the old cynical, angry, moody Mark does not reappear, watching carefully to be kind to them, to serve them, and to forgive them. He can love and serve others he knows. Here is an example:

Acting on a prompting, Mark decided to go see Bill, one of the students Mark home taught. Bill had never gotten along very well with Mark, but Mark made the visit. Mark arrived just in time to help Bill clean up a big mess caused by a flooding dishwasher. (Bill had put liquid dish soap in the machine.) That experience was an important lesson in forgiveness and the beginning of a great friendship.

It took time and "all diligence"[23]; but with much prayer, repentance, and service, Mark's heart began to change. The old cynicism and anger began to disappear. In its place came light and joy and confidence in the Lord. It was not easy. It did not happen quickly, but the "great and precious promises"[24] came true. Through the ministry of the Holy Ghost, the power of the Atonement worked in Mark according to his faithfulness. He received the gift of a merciful and forgiving heart. Mark nourished the tree, and he tasted its fruit.

The day came when Mark called Carol and apologized to her for his angry words those many months ago and sought her forgiveness. Carol told Mark she was sorry for the pain she had caused him, and Mark was so happy that he could say to her in all sincerity of heart that he had forgiven her and wished for her nothing but the best.

Aurelia stood on the bank of the Mississippi River and looked back across it. Never before in her eleven-and-a-half years had she been west of the wide river, and now here she was in Iowa.
She shivered in the February cold and tucked one hand into her coat. With the other, she held George’s hand. He was only six and was her responsibility. Ellen, thirteen, and nine-year-old Catherine walked ahead with seven-year-old Howard; little Lucy rode in the wagon with Mama, who was still very sick. But Aurelia and George stood and looked back across the river to Nauvoo.
Aurelia murmured, “Farewell, Nauvoo,” and turned with George to face the west. It would be a long journey to the Rockies, but she had her family and the true gospel. She was ready.

President Lee on several occasions gave wise counsel with respect to following the living prophet. I should like to quote from one of his Brigham Young University devotional addresses:
“Now may I make a personal reference, which I’ll try to treat in such a way as to preserve the confidentiality. It involved a beautiful, young wife and mother from a prominent family. She had gone away from her home and was now in the East. She had gone out into an area where she and her husband had taken up with those in the ghetto, and she wrote me a rather interesting letter, and I quote only a paragraph: ‘Tomorrow my husband will shave off his long, full beard. Because of the request of the stake president and your direction in the Priesthood Bulletin, he must not have the appearance of evil or rebellion if he is to get a recommend to go to the temple. I have wept anguished tears; the faces of Moses and Jacob were bearded, and to me the wisdom and spirituality of the old prophets reflected from the face of my own spiritual husband. It was like cutting out for me a symbol of the good things my generation has learned.’ Then the letter concluded with a challenge to me: ‘We are prepared for clear, specific, hard-line direction as youth. Wishy-washy implications are not heard very well here. We look to you to tell it straight.’
“I don’t know whether she knew just what she was asking for when she asked me to tell it straight, but these are some things I wrote to her: ‘In your letter you address me as, “Dear President Lee,” and in your first sentence you refer to me as the Lord’s prophet. Now, in your letter you tell me that you are saddened because with the shaving off of the beard and the cutting of the hair, which, to you, made your husband appear as the prophets Moses and Jacob, he would no longer bear that resemblance. I wonder if you might not be wiser to think of following the appearance of the prophets of today. President David O. McKay had no beard or long hair; neither did President Joseph Fielding Smith; and neither does your humble servant whom you have acknowledged as the Lord’s prophet.
“‘The inconsistency in your letter has made me reflect upon an experience that I had in the mission field when, in company with some missionaries and the mission president, we were at Carthage Jail, where the martyrdom of the Prophet Joseph and his brother, Hyrum, took place. In that meeting there were recounted the events that led up to their martyrdom. Then the mission president made some significant comments. He said, “When the Prophet Joseph Smith died there were many who died spiritually with Joseph.” Likewise there were many who died spiritually with Brigham Young, and so with others of the presidents of the Church, because they chose to follow the man who had passed on, rather than giving allegiance to his successor upon whom the mantle of leadership had been given by the Lord’s appointment.’
“And then I asked her, ‘Are you following, in looks, prophets who lived hundreds of years ago? Are you really true to your faith as a member of the Church in failing to look to those who preside in the Church today? Why is it that you want your husband to look like Moses and Jacob, rather than to look like the modern prophets to whom you are expressing allegiance? If you will give this sober thought, your tears will dry, and you’ll begin to have some new thoughts.’” (“Be Loyal to the Royal Within You.” Speeches of the Year, Provo, Utah: Brigham Young University Press, 1974, pp. 97–98.)

“While of these emblems we partake,”1 we began to sing. I wished we were singing a little faster, but I focused on the ordinance.
A calm came over me, settling my soul. The tone and meter of the organ were exactly appropriate to prepare us for the sacrament.
I looked with gratitude at our organist as he reverently swayed with the music. I thought back to our first meeting eight years earlier. Just a few months before we met, wildfires had destroyed Ed Bravenec’s home, along with most of his family’s possessions. As the missionaries and I shared a gospel discussion in his new mobile home, Brother Bravenec told us he played the organ.
“I play to express my testimony and love of God,” he said. Then we talked about whether he might play for our ward should he join the Church.
I looked at the ends of his fingers. A couple of them had been amputated. I was inspired by his faith, but I wondered about his capacity to play.
“I know that the Church would be grateful for you to share your gifts,” I said.
Brother Bravenec was satisfied with my response, and we went on to enjoy a good lesson and the beginning of a firm friendship. He was soon baptized and, as he had desired, became our ward organist.
Over the years since his baptism, I have watched as his health challenges led to the amputation of one of his toes. Not long after that, Sister Bravenec, who returned to Church activity when her husband became a member, was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. Then Brother Bravenec lost another toe.
We missed him for a few weeks as he cared for his wife and struggled through his ordeal. But soon he returned to church, sharing his testimony through the beautiful strains of the organ.
In 2019, Brother Bravenec learned that he would lose one of his legs. I was sad for him, thinking that his years at the organ had come to an end. But a few weeks after the surgery, Brother Bravenec hobbled into church on his new prosthetic leg.
Using canes to keep his balance, he slowly made his way to the organ. There, he sat on the organ bench, removed his prosthetic limb, and began playing the prelude music. A few minutes later, he played the opening hymn. Now it was time for the sacrament.
“In Jesus’ name and for his sake,” we sang—tone and meter perfect.

His next week in prison brought deep discouragement. He received a letter from Elder Hammer, who had left Vienna and was now in a hospital in Schlessien, suffering from smallpox. The senior companion wrote that he was so sick he expected to die. He told where his belongings were and asked Elder Biesinger to forward them to Utah. He requested a priesthood blessing. The prisoner, unable to help, appealed to the Lord “in tears and prayer” for guidance:
“I realized he had no friends at hand to administer kindness to him. After receiving this letter I pled with the judge to permit me to leave the prison under restrictions in order that I might visit my sick friend, but this privilege was denied me, but I was granted the privilege to write to Bro. Hammer, which I did, and promised him in my letter in the name of the Lord Jesus that he would return to his family in Utah alive.”*
The judge read the letter and seemed astonished by this brash prophecy. He also allowed the American to send another letter, this one to the American consul in Prague. Soon the consul, Mr. A. C. Phelps, appeared and agreed to help the elder get out of jail. The court informed the consul that no trial could be held until agents in Vienna rounded up evidence about Elder Biesinger’s proselyting work there.
A third letter brought another visitor ten days later. This was Elder Joseph A. Smith, sent by the mission president. He told the prisoner of his visit with Elder Hammer who was recovering. The half-hour visit took place under the watchful eye and ear of an officer, and the two missionaries had to speak in German so the guard “could understand all that passed between us.”

While serving in the little village of Taga Savaii, I was laying asleep one night when I was awakened by the presence of darkness, heavy darkness. I remembered the teachings of my father that when you feel the presence of evil, utter the words, "In the name of Jesus Christ and by the power of the priesthood I hold, I rebuke the evil in the room." The darkness was so heavy, that I struggled saying those words. But I did and the darkness was lifted immediately and light entered that little hut. I remember that I then reached for my Book of Mormon and held it close to my chest, and slept like that the rest of that night. I slept like a baby.

Now years later and just a few months ago, I shared that experience with one of my boys. One night, late, I went around the house checking the doors and windows, and my family as they lay asleep. As I entered my son's room, I noticed him sleeping, holding something to his chest. I walked over to look closer and noticed it was the Book of Mormon. As I looked at him, I was so grateful that I shared that story.

On Saturday, April 22, 1893, a special session for children under eight years of age was held so that many more Primary children could attend. Seven-year-old LeGrand Richards, later an Apostle, attended this session with his mother. He was impressed when he saw the prophet in the temple that day. He said later, “I always remembered exactly what President Woodruff looked like and what he wore on that day for the rest of my life.” Unlike his older sister, who saw an angel during an earlier dedication session, LeGrand said, “I looked around for angels, but I didn’t see any!”

In November 2019, I listened to Elder Gong’s Face to Face event about the Children and Youth program with my family. Afterward, my bishop gave us booklets to help work toward our goals.
My first goal was to finish reading the Book of Mormon before my eighth birthday to prepare for my baptism. I had already started reading it but without much enthusiasm. But that day I made a plan with my dad. We figured out how many chapters I had to read each day to finish the Book of Mormon before my baptism. I started reading every day and marked when I finished reading each section.
As I read, I wanted to do more good things. So I joined the worldwide fast President Nelson announced to help control COVID-19. I was glad that I could do a full fast. My parents encouraged me to also pray and fast to gain my own testimony of the Book of Mormon and of baptism.
On the first Sunday in May, I prayed and fasted. Soon after, I finished reading the whole Book of Mormon. I was excited for my baptism—on my birthday. I felt ready to make this covenant with God! I know the Book of Mormon is true. I liked reading it, and I am happy I achieved this goal with the help of my family.