In another area, my companion and I had just finished teaching and had ten minutes before a dinner appointment. Rather than wasting time we knocked on some doors, and one family let us right in. They had just returned from visiting a ranch in Arizona that was run by an LDS family. They had been impressed by how clean and well run it was.
We started the lessons and ended up baptizing the whole family, mom and dad and two kids. They got right in and became involved with the ward. They brought several of their friends into the Church, and both of the children are now at BYU. One’s leaving on a mission soon.
They’ve come and visited our home a couple of times, and now I know why my father felt so good when people from his mission came to see him.
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RMs at QB
Summary: With only ten minutes before dinner, Steve Lindsley and his companion decided to knock doors and met a family impressed by an LDS ranch they had visited. The missionaries taught and baptized the entire family. They became active, brought friends, and later visited Lindsley’s home, deepening the lasting joy of missionary service.
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👤 Missionaries
👤 Church Members (General)
Baptism
Conversion
Education
Family
Friendship
Missionary Work
The Lesson
Summary: A boy moves from a country school to the city hoping to impress others with his large marble collection. He is outwitted by a redheaded kid who knows different rules and loses most of his marbles, including his prized shooter. That evening, his father gently invites reflection, and the boy admits he should have listened to his dad's counsel.
Dad caught me as I was going out the door. “What’s behind your back, Son?”
“School stuff.”
“Like what?”
“Uh, marbles.”
“Since when are marbles considered school stuff?” Dad asked, holding his hand out toward me.
Reluctantly I handed him a worn leather pouch tightly packed with marbles. The drawstring was tied into a large bow that threatened to unravel at any second from the pressure of the marbles crammed inside. Bulging from the top of the bag was my favorite shooter, a green speckled moonglow with a chip out of one side.
“Why carry so many?” Dad asked. “If you plan on winning, you’d better leave a little room for the take. Right?”
I shrugged and stared at the floor. I knew Dad wanted me to agree with him, but he didn’t understand. I needed all my marbles so I’d look as impressive as possible on my first day at the new school—a city school. At the Pine Bluff country school the kid with the most marbles had always been a big shot. After hundreds of marble games I had become that kid. By the time our family moved to the city, nobody would even play me. Now if these city kids saw how many marbles I was carrying, they would realize I was somebody special.
Dad began to chew his lower lip as he stared down at me. Whenever he was going to tell me something “for your own good,” he would chew his lip. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “Mom’s been wanting some marbles to put in her aquarium. Give her a few of yours, and you can take the rest to school.”
Even after I gave him twelve of my scroungiest, beat-up marbles, my leather pouch still swelled magnificently. As I was leaving, Dad told me things might be different in the city, but I figured school was school, and playing marbles was playing marbles. What could be different about that?
A couple of blocks from home I saw a kid carrying a brown shoe box. I heard the unmistakable clackity-clack of marbles jostling against each other. Walking up behind him, I faked a loud cough and started to rummage through my marble bag.
The kid stopped walking. He turned, and I saw a round face covered with splotches of freckles. His glasses had lenses thick enough to stop bullets. His red hair was oiled and combed into a tall bump above his forehead. Eyeing my bag of marbles, he set his shoe box down. “Play you a game,” he said.
I pulled out my green moonglow. “Where do we play?” I asked.
“Right here,” he said, pointing to the ground beneath our feet.
“How can we play here? It’s all grass and cement.”
“Where do you want to play, man, up a tree?”
I couldn’t believe how dumb this guy was. “We have to play someplace where there’s dirt, or we can’t draw the circle.”
“Circle?”
“Yeah, circle. Can’t play marbles without a circle.”
The kid gave me a strange look, then suddenly he laughed.
“What’s so funny?” I asked him.
“Nobody plays marbles in a circle anymore,” he replied with a smirk, “except sissies. Maybe we’d better forget the whole thing.”
“Everybody uses a circle in Pine Bluff,” I told him.
“Pine Bluff!” He laughed. “No wonder you don’t know anything. Pine Bluff School is a school for turkeys.”
“No, it’s not!” I yelled.
“Then how come they play marbles in a circle?”
My face was burning as the kid reached down to pick up the shoe box. “Show me how they play marbles here,” I said, grabbing his arm.
“Nah,” he said. “I don’t have time.”
“You’re scared to play me.”
“Sure I am,” he said in mock fright. “Scared to death.”
“Then show me.”
“It would take too long, and there are too many rules.”
“Forget the rules,” I pleaded. “Just show me what I have to do to win.”
The kid squinted at his watch. “All right! I have time for one game before school. Let’s play sixty-six, with anything goes.”
“How do we start?” I asked, rubbing the green moonglow between my palms for good luck.
“First, count out thirty-three marbles,” he said.
“Thirty-three!”
“Yeah, that’s why it’s called sixty-six, because both of us put thirty-three marbles on the line. ’Course if you’re afraid, we could always play dolls or hopscotch.”
“I’m not afraid of you or your dumb game,” I said, grabbing a handful of marbles from my pouch. “Just keep explaining.”
“It’s easy—one of us throws out his shooter, and the other guy tries to hit it. First one to make a hit gets all the marbles.”
It sounded simple enough. I counted out thirty-three marbles. The redheaded kid shaped his marbles into a V. “What’s that for?” I asked.
“Victory,” he said with a cocky grin. Quickly I formed a B with mine. “What’s that for?” he asked.
“Baloney!”
The formalities were over. I agreed to go first and rolled my green moonglow down the sidewalk about thirty feet, feeling confident I was out of range. Then the kid walked right over to my marble without tossing his own! “Eye drops,” he said nonchalantly.
“What in the world is ‘eye drops’?” I demanded.
“I’ll show you,” he said.
I watched as he planted himself directly over my moonglow, one foot on either side. With great deliberation, he lifted his shooter until it rested against his left nostril just below his eye. Slowly he spread his thumb and index finger, allowing the marble to land squarely on top of mine.
“That isn’t fair!” I yelled. “I didn’t know anything about eye drops.”
The redheaded kid walked over to my B and began dismantling it. “You’re the one who wasn’t worried about learning the rules,” he reminded me.
I was determined to get the best of this guy. “Play me again,” I challenged.
“Count out thirty-three more marbles,” he said.
I insisted he go first. As soon as his marble quit rolling, I called out, “Eye drops,” and positioned myself the same way the freckle-faced kid had done previously.
But just as I prepared to drop my shooter, he yelled, “Covers!”
“Now what?”
“A simple defensive maneuver,” he explained, cupping his hands over his marble until it was completely hidden.
“That’s cheating!” I protested.
The redheaded kid squinted up at me. “It’s legal,” he said.
“Oh, yeah? Well, maybe I’m starting to figure out this crazy game.” I gave my marble a casual flip into the front yard of a brown stucco house. “You chase me awhile,” I said.
Immediately he called, “Eye drops.”
I countered with “Covers.”
He hit me with “Substitutes.”
“Substitutes?”
“That’s what I said!”
Somehow I knew I was in trouble as I watched the kid walk back to his shoe box and drop his marble inside. Then he pulled out the biggest steel shooter I ever saw in my life! It was the size of a small apple. “This is my ‘cover breaker,’” he said. “Never saw a marble stay covered when this baby cuts loose.”
He had to be bluffing. He wouldn’t cripple a guy for a few crummy marbles. I kept my moonglow covered.
The redheaded kid raised the big steelie high above his head. “Move ’em or lose ’em,” he threatened.
Bent over at his feet, I felt like a human sacrifice about to be offered up to a freckle-faced marble king.
“I’m counting to three,” the kid said. “One.” I saw him grit his teeth. “Two.” I was beginning to take him seriously. “Three!” he yelled, going up on his tiptoes to gain every available ounce of power.
Deciding I would rather lose thirty-three marbles than my fingers, I rolled sideways in sheer panic. Facedown in the grass, I waited for the sound of the big steelie smashing my moonglow to green dust. Instead, I heard laughter. The redheaded kid no longer held the big steelie over his head.
“Guess I fooled you,” he said, taking the now-familiar eye-drops position.
Realizing my mistake, I crawled frantically toward my exposed shooter, but the big steelie fell, and I was poorer by another thirty-three marbles. My moonglow was smashed!
As the redheaded kid plodded down the sidewalk toward school, his shoe box was considerably heavier, and my leather pouch looked like a collapsed lung.
Dad was sitting on the porch steps when I got home after school. He stared at my depleted marble bag. “How’d it go today, Son?” he asked.
“OK.” I wanted to tell him everything, but I was too ashamed.
“Glad to hear it.”
I was relieved that he didn’t press the issue any further, and yet I was disappointed too. He had to know something was wrong.
Until I was ready for bed, nothing more was said. Then I heard Dad coming up the stairs. He walked into my room and sat down on the bed. He was chewing his lower lip. “Learn anything today, Son?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Like what?” Dad asked.
There was a lump in my throat that wouldn’t swallow away. “I learned I had better listen to you sometimes,” I told him.
For a second I saw a strange look come over his face. He blinked a couple of times, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a dozen wet marbles. “Might as well take these back,” he said. “Your mother says they make the fishbowl look junky. Maybe when you get that bag filled up again, you can give her some better ones.”
“School stuff.”
“Like what?”
“Uh, marbles.”
“Since when are marbles considered school stuff?” Dad asked, holding his hand out toward me.
Reluctantly I handed him a worn leather pouch tightly packed with marbles. The drawstring was tied into a large bow that threatened to unravel at any second from the pressure of the marbles crammed inside. Bulging from the top of the bag was my favorite shooter, a green speckled moonglow with a chip out of one side.
“Why carry so many?” Dad asked. “If you plan on winning, you’d better leave a little room for the take. Right?”
I shrugged and stared at the floor. I knew Dad wanted me to agree with him, but he didn’t understand. I needed all my marbles so I’d look as impressive as possible on my first day at the new school—a city school. At the Pine Bluff country school the kid with the most marbles had always been a big shot. After hundreds of marble games I had become that kid. By the time our family moved to the city, nobody would even play me. Now if these city kids saw how many marbles I was carrying, they would realize I was somebody special.
Dad began to chew his lower lip as he stared down at me. Whenever he was going to tell me something “for your own good,” he would chew his lip. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “Mom’s been wanting some marbles to put in her aquarium. Give her a few of yours, and you can take the rest to school.”
Even after I gave him twelve of my scroungiest, beat-up marbles, my leather pouch still swelled magnificently. As I was leaving, Dad told me things might be different in the city, but I figured school was school, and playing marbles was playing marbles. What could be different about that?
A couple of blocks from home I saw a kid carrying a brown shoe box. I heard the unmistakable clackity-clack of marbles jostling against each other. Walking up behind him, I faked a loud cough and started to rummage through my marble bag.
The kid stopped walking. He turned, and I saw a round face covered with splotches of freckles. His glasses had lenses thick enough to stop bullets. His red hair was oiled and combed into a tall bump above his forehead. Eyeing my bag of marbles, he set his shoe box down. “Play you a game,” he said.
I pulled out my green moonglow. “Where do we play?” I asked.
“Right here,” he said, pointing to the ground beneath our feet.
“How can we play here? It’s all grass and cement.”
“Where do you want to play, man, up a tree?”
I couldn’t believe how dumb this guy was. “We have to play someplace where there’s dirt, or we can’t draw the circle.”
“Circle?”
“Yeah, circle. Can’t play marbles without a circle.”
The kid gave me a strange look, then suddenly he laughed.
“What’s so funny?” I asked him.
“Nobody plays marbles in a circle anymore,” he replied with a smirk, “except sissies. Maybe we’d better forget the whole thing.”
“Everybody uses a circle in Pine Bluff,” I told him.
“Pine Bluff!” He laughed. “No wonder you don’t know anything. Pine Bluff School is a school for turkeys.”
“No, it’s not!” I yelled.
“Then how come they play marbles in a circle?”
My face was burning as the kid reached down to pick up the shoe box. “Show me how they play marbles here,” I said, grabbing his arm.
“Nah,” he said. “I don’t have time.”
“You’re scared to play me.”
“Sure I am,” he said in mock fright. “Scared to death.”
“Then show me.”
“It would take too long, and there are too many rules.”
“Forget the rules,” I pleaded. “Just show me what I have to do to win.”
The kid squinted at his watch. “All right! I have time for one game before school. Let’s play sixty-six, with anything goes.”
“How do we start?” I asked, rubbing the green moonglow between my palms for good luck.
“First, count out thirty-three marbles,” he said.
“Thirty-three!”
“Yeah, that’s why it’s called sixty-six, because both of us put thirty-three marbles on the line. ’Course if you’re afraid, we could always play dolls or hopscotch.”
“I’m not afraid of you or your dumb game,” I said, grabbing a handful of marbles from my pouch. “Just keep explaining.”
“It’s easy—one of us throws out his shooter, and the other guy tries to hit it. First one to make a hit gets all the marbles.”
It sounded simple enough. I counted out thirty-three marbles. The redheaded kid shaped his marbles into a V. “What’s that for?” I asked.
“Victory,” he said with a cocky grin. Quickly I formed a B with mine. “What’s that for?” he asked.
“Baloney!”
The formalities were over. I agreed to go first and rolled my green moonglow down the sidewalk about thirty feet, feeling confident I was out of range. Then the kid walked right over to my marble without tossing his own! “Eye drops,” he said nonchalantly.
“What in the world is ‘eye drops’?” I demanded.
“I’ll show you,” he said.
I watched as he planted himself directly over my moonglow, one foot on either side. With great deliberation, he lifted his shooter until it rested against his left nostril just below his eye. Slowly he spread his thumb and index finger, allowing the marble to land squarely on top of mine.
“That isn’t fair!” I yelled. “I didn’t know anything about eye drops.”
The redheaded kid walked over to my B and began dismantling it. “You’re the one who wasn’t worried about learning the rules,” he reminded me.
I was determined to get the best of this guy. “Play me again,” I challenged.
“Count out thirty-three more marbles,” he said.
I insisted he go first. As soon as his marble quit rolling, I called out, “Eye drops,” and positioned myself the same way the freckle-faced kid had done previously.
But just as I prepared to drop my shooter, he yelled, “Covers!”
“Now what?”
“A simple defensive maneuver,” he explained, cupping his hands over his marble until it was completely hidden.
“That’s cheating!” I protested.
The redheaded kid squinted up at me. “It’s legal,” he said.
“Oh, yeah? Well, maybe I’m starting to figure out this crazy game.” I gave my marble a casual flip into the front yard of a brown stucco house. “You chase me awhile,” I said.
Immediately he called, “Eye drops.”
I countered with “Covers.”
He hit me with “Substitutes.”
“Substitutes?”
“That’s what I said!”
Somehow I knew I was in trouble as I watched the kid walk back to his shoe box and drop his marble inside. Then he pulled out the biggest steel shooter I ever saw in my life! It was the size of a small apple. “This is my ‘cover breaker,’” he said. “Never saw a marble stay covered when this baby cuts loose.”
He had to be bluffing. He wouldn’t cripple a guy for a few crummy marbles. I kept my moonglow covered.
The redheaded kid raised the big steelie high above his head. “Move ’em or lose ’em,” he threatened.
Bent over at his feet, I felt like a human sacrifice about to be offered up to a freckle-faced marble king.
“I’m counting to three,” the kid said. “One.” I saw him grit his teeth. “Two.” I was beginning to take him seriously. “Three!” he yelled, going up on his tiptoes to gain every available ounce of power.
Deciding I would rather lose thirty-three marbles than my fingers, I rolled sideways in sheer panic. Facedown in the grass, I waited for the sound of the big steelie smashing my moonglow to green dust. Instead, I heard laughter. The redheaded kid no longer held the big steelie over his head.
“Guess I fooled you,” he said, taking the now-familiar eye-drops position.
Realizing my mistake, I crawled frantically toward my exposed shooter, but the big steelie fell, and I was poorer by another thirty-three marbles. My moonglow was smashed!
As the redheaded kid plodded down the sidewalk toward school, his shoe box was considerably heavier, and my leather pouch looked like a collapsed lung.
Dad was sitting on the porch steps when I got home after school. He stared at my depleted marble bag. “How’d it go today, Son?” he asked.
“OK.” I wanted to tell him everything, but I was too ashamed.
“Glad to hear it.”
I was relieved that he didn’t press the issue any further, and yet I was disappointed too. He had to know something was wrong.
Until I was ready for bed, nothing more was said. Then I heard Dad coming up the stairs. He walked into my room and sat down on the bed. He was chewing his lower lip. “Learn anything today, Son?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Like what?” Dad asked.
There was a lump in my throat that wouldn’t swallow away. “I learned I had better listen to you sometimes,” I told him.
For a second I saw a strange look come over his face. He blinked a couple of times, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a dozen wet marbles. “Might as well take these back,” he said. “Your mother says they make the fishbowl look junky. Maybe when you get that bag filled up again, you can give her some better ones.”
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👤 Parents
👤 Youth
👤 Other
Children
Humility
Judging Others
Obedience
Parenting
Pride
Standing for Virtue
Summary: Young women and leaders from the Fort St. John Ward completed a 15K hike, bonding and appreciating God’s creations. They prayed together, wrote a declaration of virtue on fabric, raised banners, and loudly proclaimed five commitments, including modesty and defending the family. They declared themselves prepared to stand for righteousness.
“The young women of the Fort St. John Ward were inspired to undertake a 15K hike through the Peace River Valley. With 14 young women plus leaders, we set off. The weather cooperated, and we felt a growing feeling of camaraderie. We visually drank deeply from God’s creations and appreciated the fact that He created it all. We spoke of gospel principles, expressed our love for the Young Women program, the activities, and each other. We knelt as a group and prayed on behalf of every young woman in attendance and for those who were not with us. We then wrote our declaration of virtue with charcoal on a piece of fabric, fastened it to a stick, and raised our banners high. We shouted as loud as we could the following five declarations so that we would know and those listening would know what we stood for: I will dress modestly and be a symbol of virtue! I will not use vulgar or degrading language! I will not let pornography destroy my family and friends! I will defend the family and the importance of marriage! Calling for a return to virtue!
“We know there will be many occasions where we will be called to stand and fight for good and righteous aspects of life. We are prepared. We are ready.”
—Kara Strate
“We know there will be many occasions where we will be called to stand and fight for good and righteous aspects of life. We are prepared. We are ready.”
—Kara Strate
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👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Youth
Chastity
Courage
Creation
Family
Friendship
Marriage
Pornography
Prayer
Virtue
Young Women
Ask of God
Summary: Olivia prayed to know how to feel the Spirit more. She looked up 'Holy Ghost' in the Book of Mormon index and found Alma 13:28, recognizing that prayer was the answer. As she prayed humbly, she felt the Spirit more, served more, and felt closer to Heavenly Father.
I wanted to feel the Spirit more in my life, so I prayed to Heavenly Father and asked how I could do that. I was in a quiet place and I opened the Book of Mormon.
I looked up “Holy Ghost” in the index. I found Alma 13:28, which says, “But that ye would humble yourselves before the Lord, and call on his holy name, and watch and pray continually, that ye may not be tempted above that which ye can bear, and thus be led by the Holy Spirit.” This was a beautiful answer to my prayer. The answer to my prayer was prayer!
As I tried to humbly come before the Lord in prayer and ask for the Spirit, I was able to feel it more in my life. I felt like I had more opportunities to serve, and I felt more connected to Heavenly Father throughout my day.
Even though this was a simple answer to my simple question, it helped strengthen my testimony that when we ask in faith, we will receive the wisdom we need from God.
Olivia T., 13, Hawaii, USA
I looked up “Holy Ghost” in the index. I found Alma 13:28, which says, “But that ye would humble yourselves before the Lord, and call on his holy name, and watch and pray continually, that ye may not be tempted above that which ye can bear, and thus be led by the Holy Spirit.” This was a beautiful answer to my prayer. The answer to my prayer was prayer!
As I tried to humbly come before the Lord in prayer and ask for the Spirit, I was able to feel it more in my life. I felt like I had more opportunities to serve, and I felt more connected to Heavenly Father throughout my day.
Even though this was a simple answer to my simple question, it helped strengthen my testimony that when we ask in faith, we will receive the wisdom we need from God.
Olivia T., 13, Hawaii, USA
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👤 Youth
👤 Church Members (General)
Book of Mormon
Faith
Holy Ghost
Humility
Prayer
Revelation
Scriptures
Service
Testimony
Young Women
Benjamin’s Name
Summary: Benjamin worries about explaining to his class that he was named after King Benjamin from the Book of Mormon. With his father’s encouragement, he realizes he should not hide who he is just to fit in. The next day, after hearing his friends share the stories behind their names, he tells the class the truth and begins to explain King Benjamin.
Benjamin lay back on his bed and put his feet up on the wall. He always did that when he had to think. Today’s problem was the essay Miss Hardgrave had assigned in language arts. He was supposed to write about why his parents had named him Benjamin and share it with the class.
He knew, of course. There was the picture hanging right above his feet: King Benjamin on top of the tower with everyone in tents looking up at him. Benjamin nudged the frame with his toe, and the picture tilted to one side. Usually he liked knowing he was named for a righteous king in the Book of Mormon. But nobody in his school class was going to know who King Benjamin was. Or what the Book of Mormon was, for that matter. One more thing to have to explain.
Lately it seemed like he was always explaining things: why he didn’t play in soccer games on Sunday, why he wouldn’t watch some of the most popular movies, why he hadn’t joined the same Cub Scout den everyone at school belonged to. He kicked the wall, and his door rattled.
Dad opened the door a crack and peeked in. “Aren’t you asleep yet?” he asked.
“Still doing homework.”
Dad came in and sat on the edge of the bed. “Anything I can help you with?”
“What do you know about Benjamin Franklin?”
“Hmm. United States patriot, flew a kite in a thunderstorm, and he was bald.” Dad rubbed his own bald head and smiled. “How’s that? Are you writing a report on him?”
“Well, not exactly,” Benjamin admitted. He looked down and twisted one of the quilt’s yarn ties around his finger. “I have to write about my name.” Benjamin wasn’t looking at Dad, but he felt his steady gaze.
Dad cleared his throat. “I admire Benjamin Franklin, but that’s not who we named you for.” He leaned over and straightened the picture of King Benjamin until the tower was standing straight again. “We named you after King Benjamin because we hoped you’d be like him—bold and fearless and righteous.”
“But, Dad,” Benjamin protested, “I can’t just stand up in front of my class and say I’m named after a Book of Mormon prophet.”
Dad looked surprised. “Why not?”
“This is for school. You’re not supposed to talk about religion in school. It’s illegal.”
Dad smiled. “Maybe it would be illegal for your teacher to preach to you in class, but we’re talking about answering the question she asked. There’s nothing illegal about that.”
“I bet nobody else even goes to church,” Benjamin said.
“You’d be surprised, I think. Besides, remember what King Benjamin said?” Dad pointed to the words printed below the painting. “Mosiah 5:15. ‘Be steadfast and immovable.’ That means you shouldn’t let other people decide who you are. Even at school.”
Dad stood up and kissed Benjamin on the forehead. “You’d better go to sleep soon. It’s late.”
Benjamin went to his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. Above his bed, King Benjamin looked calm and confident. His arm was raised in a grand gesture, and the people were peering out of their tents, all their eyes fastened on him. Benjamin thought about what a hard time his teacher had getting everyone to pay attention sometimes. “I bet even King Benjamin would’ve been nervous in front of my class,” he muttered.
The paper on the desk seemed to stare up at him, still blank. Benjamin could hear his clock ticking. Finally, too tired to think anymore, he started to write. “My name is Benjamin. You’ve all heard of Benjamin Franklin. …” He didn’t have to actually say he was named for Benjamin Franklin. He’d let them draw their own conclusions.
The next morning, Benjamin yawned as he waited with Yusuf and Max for the bell to ring.
“That language arts assignment,” Max complained. “It’s so embarrassing.”
“Why?” Yusuf asked.
“My mom got my name from a TV show!” Max leaned against the wall of the school and groaned. “She thought this character named Maximilian was really handsome. She watched the show every day, and when I was born that was the first name that popped into her head.”
“Are you going to tell everyone your name is from a TV show?” Benjamin asked. Explaining you were named for a TV star would be much harder than explaining you were named for someone in the scriptures.
“No.” Max pulled his essay out of the front pocket of his backpack and smoothed out the wrinkles. “I wrote that my mom had heard the name somewhere and liked it. Where did you guys get your names?”
Benjamin leaned over and fidgeted with the zipper on his backpack. He felt uncomfortable. He couldn’t tell his two best friends that he was named for Benjamin Franklin.
Yusuf said, “My name comes from the Koran.”
“What’s the Koran?” Max wanted to know.
“It’s my book of scripture. Like your Bible. There’s a person named Yusuf in it. My parents were going to name me for my grandfather, but he told them to name me Yusuf instead.”
“You’re lucky,” Max said as the bell rang.
Right after taking roll, Miss Hardgrave called on Patricia to read her essay. Her parents had found her name in a name book and liked it because it meant “noble.” Then Maria said that her name was Spanish for Mary, the mother of Jesus, and that her mother had the same name. Yong’s name meant “courageous,” and Jasmine’s parents had liked the way her name sounded.
Now it was Benjamin’s turn. He carried his essay to the front of the room. He was always nervous when he had to speak in front of the class, but today his hands seemed extra sweaty. He leaned against the chalkboard tray and read the first line of his essay to the class: “My name is Benjamin. You’ve all heard of Benjamin Franklin. …” He looked at the rest of what he had written and then looked up at the class. Max was looking at him. Yusuf smiled and nodded. Benjamin wondered if King Benjamin’s hands had gotten sweaty up there on that tower.
He took a deep breath and folded up his paper. “But I’m not really named for Benjamin Franklin. I’m named for a king in the Book of Mormon, one of my books of scripture.” He imagined his friends peering out of tents at him, and he talked a little louder. “Let me tell you about him.”
He knew, of course. There was the picture hanging right above his feet: King Benjamin on top of the tower with everyone in tents looking up at him. Benjamin nudged the frame with his toe, and the picture tilted to one side. Usually he liked knowing he was named for a righteous king in the Book of Mormon. But nobody in his school class was going to know who King Benjamin was. Or what the Book of Mormon was, for that matter. One more thing to have to explain.
Lately it seemed like he was always explaining things: why he didn’t play in soccer games on Sunday, why he wouldn’t watch some of the most popular movies, why he hadn’t joined the same Cub Scout den everyone at school belonged to. He kicked the wall, and his door rattled.
Dad opened the door a crack and peeked in. “Aren’t you asleep yet?” he asked.
“Still doing homework.”
Dad came in and sat on the edge of the bed. “Anything I can help you with?”
“What do you know about Benjamin Franklin?”
“Hmm. United States patriot, flew a kite in a thunderstorm, and he was bald.” Dad rubbed his own bald head and smiled. “How’s that? Are you writing a report on him?”
“Well, not exactly,” Benjamin admitted. He looked down and twisted one of the quilt’s yarn ties around his finger. “I have to write about my name.” Benjamin wasn’t looking at Dad, but he felt his steady gaze.
Dad cleared his throat. “I admire Benjamin Franklin, but that’s not who we named you for.” He leaned over and straightened the picture of King Benjamin until the tower was standing straight again. “We named you after King Benjamin because we hoped you’d be like him—bold and fearless and righteous.”
“But, Dad,” Benjamin protested, “I can’t just stand up in front of my class and say I’m named after a Book of Mormon prophet.”
Dad looked surprised. “Why not?”
“This is for school. You’re not supposed to talk about religion in school. It’s illegal.”
Dad smiled. “Maybe it would be illegal for your teacher to preach to you in class, but we’re talking about answering the question she asked. There’s nothing illegal about that.”
“I bet nobody else even goes to church,” Benjamin said.
“You’d be surprised, I think. Besides, remember what King Benjamin said?” Dad pointed to the words printed below the painting. “Mosiah 5:15. ‘Be steadfast and immovable.’ That means you shouldn’t let other people decide who you are. Even at school.”
Dad stood up and kissed Benjamin on the forehead. “You’d better go to sleep soon. It’s late.”
Benjamin went to his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. Above his bed, King Benjamin looked calm and confident. His arm was raised in a grand gesture, and the people were peering out of their tents, all their eyes fastened on him. Benjamin thought about what a hard time his teacher had getting everyone to pay attention sometimes. “I bet even King Benjamin would’ve been nervous in front of my class,” he muttered.
The paper on the desk seemed to stare up at him, still blank. Benjamin could hear his clock ticking. Finally, too tired to think anymore, he started to write. “My name is Benjamin. You’ve all heard of Benjamin Franklin. …” He didn’t have to actually say he was named for Benjamin Franklin. He’d let them draw their own conclusions.
The next morning, Benjamin yawned as he waited with Yusuf and Max for the bell to ring.
“That language arts assignment,” Max complained. “It’s so embarrassing.”
“Why?” Yusuf asked.
“My mom got my name from a TV show!” Max leaned against the wall of the school and groaned. “She thought this character named Maximilian was really handsome. She watched the show every day, and when I was born that was the first name that popped into her head.”
“Are you going to tell everyone your name is from a TV show?” Benjamin asked. Explaining you were named for a TV star would be much harder than explaining you were named for someone in the scriptures.
“No.” Max pulled his essay out of the front pocket of his backpack and smoothed out the wrinkles. “I wrote that my mom had heard the name somewhere and liked it. Where did you guys get your names?”
Benjamin leaned over and fidgeted with the zipper on his backpack. He felt uncomfortable. He couldn’t tell his two best friends that he was named for Benjamin Franklin.
Yusuf said, “My name comes from the Koran.”
“What’s the Koran?” Max wanted to know.
“It’s my book of scripture. Like your Bible. There’s a person named Yusuf in it. My parents were going to name me for my grandfather, but he told them to name me Yusuf instead.”
“You’re lucky,” Max said as the bell rang.
Right after taking roll, Miss Hardgrave called on Patricia to read her essay. Her parents had found her name in a name book and liked it because it meant “noble.” Then Maria said that her name was Spanish for Mary, the mother of Jesus, and that her mother had the same name. Yong’s name meant “courageous,” and Jasmine’s parents had liked the way her name sounded.
Now it was Benjamin’s turn. He carried his essay to the front of the room. He was always nervous when he had to speak in front of the class, but today his hands seemed extra sweaty. He leaned against the chalkboard tray and read the first line of his essay to the class: “My name is Benjamin. You’ve all heard of Benjamin Franklin. …” He looked at the rest of what he had written and then looked up at the class. Max was looking at him. Yusuf smiled and nodded. Benjamin wondered if King Benjamin’s hands had gotten sweaty up there on that tower.
He took a deep breath and folded up his paper. “But I’m not really named for Benjamin Franklin. I’m named for a king in the Book of Mormon, one of my books of scripture.” He imagined his friends peering out of tents at him, and he talked a little louder. “Let me tell you about him.”
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👤 Children
👤 Parents
👤 Friends
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
Book of Mormon
Children
Courage
Education
Faith
Family
Friendship
Honesty
Parenting
Religious Freedom
Scriptures
Testimony
Magnolia Heritage
Summary: In 1897, Henry McCoy and Grover Surginer encountered masked riders and soon discovered that seats at the Magnolia conference bowery had been piled and set on fire. They extinguished the blaze. Despite the damage and ongoing persecution, members held conference the next day.
The 49 Montgomery Alabama Stake youths piled out of their vehicles. Rakes, shovels, and axes were unloaded from auto trunks as they began to tackle the weeds, leaves, and debris around the old Magnolia chapel. They were continuing a tradition of service for the Church that stretches back nearly 80 years to the night of Saturday, May 8, 1897, when Henry McCoy and Grover Surginer passed a group of riders hurrying through the dark, wooded lane. The men’s faces were covered, which caused the pair to wonder.
“I recognized one of the horses, though. It belongs to John Garrett,” one of them commented as they continued to the bowery erected for the conference sessions being held in Magnolia.
When the men got to the crossroads where the bowery was located, they discovered that the seats, made of planks and sawed blocks, had been heaped together and ignited. The two men quickly put out the blaze.
The next day the members met again in conference despite the blackened ends of the seats. For them, persecution was nothing new. The missionaries had been tarred and feathered before and had eggs thrown at them. Converts reaped the ire of relatives and neighbors alike, but they didn’t quit. Service to the Church has continued into modern times.
“I recognized one of the horses, though. It belongs to John Garrett,” one of them commented as they continued to the bowery erected for the conference sessions being held in Magnolia.
When the men got to the crossroads where the bowery was located, they discovered that the seats, made of planks and sawed blocks, had been heaped together and ignited. The two men quickly put out the blaze.
The next day the members met again in conference despite the blackened ends of the seats. For them, persecution was nothing new. The missionaries had been tarred and feathered before and had eggs thrown at them. Converts reaped the ire of relatives and neighbors alike, but they didn’t quit. Service to the Church has continued into modern times.
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👤 Early Saints
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
Adversity
Endure to the End
Missionary Work
Service
Elder Yoshihiko Kikuchi:
Summary: In 1977 at the Salt Lake Tabernacle, newly sustained Elder Yoshihiko Kikuchi met stake president R. Gordon Porter. Kikuchi recognized Porter as the missionary who had confirmed him nearly two decades earlier. Porter suddenly remembered the home in Hokkaido and the young student at the door.
October, 1977. With the postlude organ music filling the Salt Lake Tabernacle on Temple Square, Elder Yoshihiko Kikuchi, newly sustained as a member of the First Quorum of the Seventy, stood near an entrance greeting acquaintances. One of them, a stake president from Japan, introduced a friend of his, R. Gordon Porter, a stake president in Salt Lake City.
“President Porter,” said Elder Kikuchi, “didn’t you serve a mission to Japan?”
“Well, yes, I did,” replied President Porter, wondering how Elder Kikuchi knew.
They were still shaking hands, Elder Kikuchi staring closely at President Porter. “You confirmed me a member of the Church.”
Incredulous, President Porter thought back to his time in Japan. “It had been almost twenty years,” he later said, “but as we shook hands I could suddenly remember that home in Hokkaido, and I could see that young gakusei [student] standing at the door as my senior companion, Delmont Law, talked with him.”
This meeting, across two decades and thousands of miles, is an apt symbol of how the gospel has affected the life of Yoshihiko Kikuchi, taking him from one unexpected transition to another. Through all those changes, he has remained both faithful and humble.
“President Porter,” said Elder Kikuchi, “didn’t you serve a mission to Japan?”
“Well, yes, I did,” replied President Porter, wondering how Elder Kikuchi knew.
They were still shaking hands, Elder Kikuchi staring closely at President Porter. “You confirmed me a member of the Church.”
Incredulous, President Porter thought back to his time in Japan. “It had been almost twenty years,” he later said, “but as we shook hands I could suddenly remember that home in Hokkaido, and I could see that young gakusei [student] standing at the door as my senior companion, Delmont Law, talked with him.”
This meeting, across two decades and thousands of miles, is an apt symbol of how the gospel has affected the life of Yoshihiko Kikuchi, taking him from one unexpected transition to another. Through all those changes, he has remained both faithful and humble.
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👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
Baptism
Conversion
Diversity and Unity in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
Endure to the End
Faith
Humility
Missionary Work
Be Ambitious for Christ
Summary: A missionary in Japan, Elder Cowan, served despite having a prosthetic leg that repeatedly broke, causing pain and difficulty. After counsel, prayer, and a heartfelt conversation, his mission president felt impressed to recommend reassignment, which Elder Cowan humbly accepted. He returned home and was reassigned to serve where he could use a car, demonstrating faithful endurance and submission to counsel.
Our missionaries serving throughout the world are beautiful examples of those who are truly ambitious for Christ. A few years ago, Sister Yamashita and I served in the Japan Nagoya Mission. Our missionaries were so ambitious for Christ. One of those missionaries was a young man named Elder Cowan.
Elder Cowan did not have a right leg because of a bicycle accident as a youth. A few weeks after he entered the mission, I received a phone call from his companion. Elder Cowan’s prosthetic leg had broken while he was riding his bike. We took him to a good repair facility, and there in a private room, I saw his leg for the first time. I realized how much pain he had been suffering. His prosthetic leg was repaired, and he returned to his area.
However, as the weeks went by, the prosthesis continued to break again and again. The area medical adviser recommended that Elder Cowan return home for a possible mission reassignment. I resisted this advice because Elder Cowan was a great missionary and he had a strong desire to remain in Japan. Gradually, though, Elder Cowan began to approach his physical limit. In spite of this, he did not murmur or complain.
Again, I was advised that Elder Cowan be allowed to serve in a place that did not require him to ride a bike. I pondered this situation. I thought about Elder Cowan and his future, and I prayed about the matter. I felt impressed that, yes, Elder Cowan should return home and await reassignment. I phoned him and expressed my love and concern and told him of my decision. He did not say anything in reply. I could only hear him weeping on the other end of the phone. I said, “Elder Cowan, you don’t have to answer me right now. I will call you tomorrow. Please consider my recommendation with sincere prayer.”
When I called him the next morning, he humbly said he would follow my counsel.
During my final interview with him, I asked him this question: “Elder Cowan, did you request on your missionary application to be sent to a mission where you would not have to ride a bike?”
He said, “Yes, President, I did.”
I responded, “Elder Cowan, you were called to the Japan Nagoya Mission, where you would have to ride a bike. Did you tell this to your stake president?”
I was surprised by his answer. He said, “No, I didn’t. I determined that if that is where the Lord called me, I would go to the gym and train my body to be able to ride a bike.”
At the conclusion of our interview, he asked me this question with tears in his eyes: “President Yamashita, why did I come to Japan? Why am I here?”
I answered him without hesitation: “Elder Cowan, I know one reason you came here. You came here for my benefit. I have come to understand what a great young man I have been serving with. I am blessed to know you.”
I am happy to report that Elder Cowan returned to his loving home and was reassigned to serve in a mission where he could use a car for his travel. I am proud not only of Elder Cowan but also of all the missionaries throughout the world who serve willingly without murmuring or complaining. Thank you, elders and sisters, for your faith, your focus, and your strong ambition for Christ.
Elder Cowan did not have a right leg because of a bicycle accident as a youth. A few weeks after he entered the mission, I received a phone call from his companion. Elder Cowan’s prosthetic leg had broken while he was riding his bike. We took him to a good repair facility, and there in a private room, I saw his leg for the first time. I realized how much pain he had been suffering. His prosthetic leg was repaired, and he returned to his area.
However, as the weeks went by, the prosthesis continued to break again and again. The area medical adviser recommended that Elder Cowan return home for a possible mission reassignment. I resisted this advice because Elder Cowan was a great missionary and he had a strong desire to remain in Japan. Gradually, though, Elder Cowan began to approach his physical limit. In spite of this, he did not murmur or complain.
Again, I was advised that Elder Cowan be allowed to serve in a place that did not require him to ride a bike. I pondered this situation. I thought about Elder Cowan and his future, and I prayed about the matter. I felt impressed that, yes, Elder Cowan should return home and await reassignment. I phoned him and expressed my love and concern and told him of my decision. He did not say anything in reply. I could only hear him weeping on the other end of the phone. I said, “Elder Cowan, you don’t have to answer me right now. I will call you tomorrow. Please consider my recommendation with sincere prayer.”
When I called him the next morning, he humbly said he would follow my counsel.
During my final interview with him, I asked him this question: “Elder Cowan, did you request on your missionary application to be sent to a mission where you would not have to ride a bike?”
He said, “Yes, President, I did.”
I responded, “Elder Cowan, you were called to the Japan Nagoya Mission, where you would have to ride a bike. Did you tell this to your stake president?”
I was surprised by his answer. He said, “No, I didn’t. I determined that if that is where the Lord called me, I would go to the gym and train my body to be able to ride a bike.”
At the conclusion of our interview, he asked me this question with tears in his eyes: “President Yamashita, why did I come to Japan? Why am I here?”
I answered him without hesitation: “Elder Cowan, I know one reason you came here. You came here for my benefit. I have come to understand what a great young man I have been serving with. I am blessed to know you.”
I am happy to report that Elder Cowan returned to his loving home and was reassigned to serve in a mission where he could use a car for his travel. I am proud not only of Elder Cowan but also of all the missionaries throughout the world who serve willingly without murmuring or complaining. Thank you, elders and sisters, for your faith, your focus, and your strong ambition for Christ.
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👤 Missionaries
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
Adversity
Disabilities
Faith
Humility
Missionary Work
Obedience
Patience
Prayer
Revelation
Service
What My Daughter’s Disability Taught Me about Grace
Summary: When Caroline was five, she frequently woke between 2:00 and 3:00 a.m. One night, while changing her diaper and absentmindedly singing a Primary song, her parent realized the lyrics applied directly to their situation. The parent felt a brief communion with God, receiving confirmation that He knew their family and that these challenges help them become what He wants them to be.
When Caroline was five, she woke between 2:00 and 3:00 a.m. for many nights in a row. One night after this unwelcome wake-up call, I wrote this:
As I was changing her diaper just now, I was absentmindedly singing one of the [Primary] songs that Lizzy [our older daughter] has declared we shall now sing for bedtime every night. … “God gave us families to help us become what He wants us to be.”2 And I looked at Caroline and suddenly the words came to the forefront of my consciousness.
God gave me a family—including this 2:00 a.m. waker—to help me become what He wants me to be. … “This is how He shares His love,” the chorus continues, “for the fam’ly is of God.”
That night I felt a brief, blessed communion with God, a confirmation that He was, in that moment, personally aware of me and Caroline and our family. He loves us. And He, my Father, gave me encouragement by teaching me why we face such challenges: “to help us become what He wants us to be.”
As I was changing her diaper just now, I was absentmindedly singing one of the [Primary] songs that Lizzy [our older daughter] has declared we shall now sing for bedtime every night. … “God gave us families to help us become what He wants us to be.”2 And I looked at Caroline and suddenly the words came to the forefront of my consciousness.
God gave me a family—including this 2:00 a.m. waker—to help me become what He wants me to be. … “This is how He shares His love,” the chorus continues, “for the fam’ly is of God.”
That night I felt a brief, blessed communion with God, a confirmation that He was, in that moment, personally aware of me and Caroline and our family. He loves us. And He, my Father, gave me encouragement by teaching me why we face such challenges: “to help us become what He wants us to be.”
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Other
Children
Family
Holy Ghost
Love
Parenting
Revelation
Testimony
Now Is the Time
Summary: A discouraged young teacher met with the speaker, admitting she was not living the commandments and that her testimony had waned. She was counseled to see her bishop and live the commandments. A month later, she reported she had repented, was keeping the commandments, and knew the gospel was true.
Of course, everyone makes mistakes. But let me tell you about a lovely young lady who visited in my office. She was discouraged, almost depressed. She enjoyed her profession of teaching yet felt that her life was not going anywhere. To complicate the problem she was feeling, her testimony had waned, and she was lacking the spark that all who had known her acknowledged was part of her vibrant personality.
“I am going to ask you a question,” I said, “but I do not want details. Are you living the commandments?”
She whispered, “No.”
We talked about her going to her bishop. We also talked about testimony and about how when one lives the commandments, that individual is endowed with blessings of the Spirit that can come in no other way.
She left, seemingly as discouraged as she had entered my office. But in a while, perhaps a month later, my telephone rang. She reported that all was well.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, I went to my bishop. I am living the commandments now, and, yes, I know the gospel is true. I did it on my own,” she reported.
“No one else could have done it for you,” I replied.
“I am going to ask you a question,” I said, “but I do not want details. Are you living the commandments?”
She whispered, “No.”
We talked about her going to her bishop. We also talked about testimony and about how when one lives the commandments, that individual is endowed with blessings of the Spirit that can come in no other way.
She left, seemingly as discouraged as she had entered my office. But in a while, perhaps a month later, my telephone rang. She reported that all was well.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, I went to my bishop. I am living the commandments now, and, yes, I know the gospel is true. I did it on my own,” she reported.
“No one else could have done it for you,” I replied.
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👤 Young Adults
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 General Authorities (Modern)
Agency and Accountability
Bishop
Commandments
Conversion
Holy Ghost
Mental Health
Obedience
Repentance
Testimony
The Savior’s Healing Power upon the Isles of the Sea
Summary: A group of 161 Japanese Saints traveled to the Hawaii Temple. One brother, recalling Pearl Harbor, feared rejection but instead encountered remarkable kindness, with Hawaiian members welcoming them with leis, hugs, and affection. After 10 uplifting days, they departed to the sound of Aloha Oe.
Later that same year, 161 adults and children embarked from Tokyo to make their way to the Hawaii Temple. One Japanese brother reflected on the journey: “As I looked out of the airplane and saw Pearl Harbor, and remembered what our country had done to these people on December 7, 1941, I feared in my heart. Will they accept us? But to my surprise they showed greater love and kindness than I had ever seen in my life.”
Upon the Japanese Saints’ arrival, the Hawaiian members welcomed them with countless strands of flower leis while exchanging hugs and kisses on the cheeks, a custom foreign to Japanese culture. After spending 10 transformative days in Hawaii, the Japanese Saints bid their farewells to the melody of “Aloha Oe” sung by the Hawaiian Saints.
Upon the Japanese Saints’ arrival, the Hawaiian members welcomed them with countless strands of flower leis while exchanging hugs and kisses on the cheeks, a custom foreign to Japanese culture. After spending 10 transformative days in Hawaii, the Japanese Saints bid their farewells to the melody of “Aloha Oe” sung by the Hawaiian Saints.
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👤 Church Members (General)
Courage
Diversity and Unity in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
Kindness
Music
Racial and Cultural Prejudice
Temples
Summary: After accepting President Nelson’s invitation to read the Book of Mormon, Katy finished and prayed but didn’t feel an immediate answer. Concerned, she decided to read it again and, while juggling worries as a robotics team captain, began seeing how its teachings applied to her problems. Recognizing the Lord’s help over time, she realized she did know the book was true.
When President Russell M. Nelson invited us sisters to read the Book of Mormon by the end of the year (“Sisters’ Participation in the Gathering of Israel,” Oct. 2018 general conference [Ensign or Liahona, Nov. 2018, 69]), I decided to try. I finally finished reading the Book of Mormon (for the first time on my own!) at 11:55 p.m. on December 31. Then I asked Heavenly Father if it was true. I didn’t really feel anything different, but I shrugged it off.
As time went on, though, I started getting a bit worried about not receiving an answer. I thought that eventually, I’d feel a KABLAM, and I’d just know it was true—but I never got that mind-blowing feeling. I finally reasoned that I might as well read the Book of Mormon again and see what happens. So I went back to 1 Nephi and started over.
At that time, I was a captain on my robotics team. When I’d sit down to read my scriptures, I was often worrying about some aspect of our team. But as I read the Book of Mormon, I began to see how it applied to my problems, and I started to recognize a pattern of the Lord’s hand helping me. It was a huge faith-building experience. I really did know the Book of Mormon was true; I just hadn’t realized it before.
Now I’m reading the Book of Mormon again. As you read it, you can come to know it’s true as well.
Katy B., Rhode Island, USA
As time went on, though, I started getting a bit worried about not receiving an answer. I thought that eventually, I’d feel a KABLAM, and I’d just know it was true—but I never got that mind-blowing feeling. I finally reasoned that I might as well read the Book of Mormon again and see what happens. So I went back to 1 Nephi and started over.
At that time, I was a captain on my robotics team. When I’d sit down to read my scriptures, I was often worrying about some aspect of our team. But as I read the Book of Mormon, I began to see how it applied to my problems, and I started to recognize a pattern of the Lord’s hand helping me. It was a huge faith-building experience. I really did know the Book of Mormon was true; I just hadn’t realized it before.
Now I’m reading the Book of Mormon again. As you read it, you can come to know it’s true as well.
Katy B., Rhode Island, USA
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👤 Youth
👤 General Authorities (Modern)
Book of Mormon
Doubt
Faith
Holy Ghost
Prayer
Revelation
Testimony
My First Temple Trip
Summary: A 12-year-old receives a first temple recommend and goes with her dad to the Spokane Washington Temple, bringing family names prepared by her mom. Expecting a dramatic spiritual experience at the font, she instead feels a quiet confirmation that she is doing the right thing. On the way home, she realizes she doesn't need a huge experience to know the Spirit is present and is grateful for the temple and the Holy Ghost.
I was so excited! I had turned 12 about two weeks ago and had received my first temple recommend on Sunday. My dad was going to take me to the Spokane Washington Temple for the first time as a birthday present.
On the day of our trip, I was ready to go an hour early! I was just so eager to go! We finally got into the car and listened to hymns on the trip there, which really brought in the Spirit that day.
My mom had prepared some family names for me and my dad to take to the temple. While I was entering the font I had expected this huge spiritual experience, but that didn’t happen. What did happen was that I was baptized for one of my deceased relatives, and I felt a still, small voice whisper to me, “You are doing the right thing.”
On the way home I really thought about what had happened at the temple. I realized I didn’t need the huge spiritual experience I had been expecting. I was so glad I had the Holy Ghost with me that day so that I could hear the still, small voice.
I’m so thankful for the temple and all of its blessings! The temple has brought me and my family great blessings, happiness, and experiences with the still, small voice.
On the day of our trip, I was ready to go an hour early! I was just so eager to go! We finally got into the car and listened to hymns on the trip there, which really brought in the Spirit that day.
My mom had prepared some family names for me and my dad to take to the temple. While I was entering the font I had expected this huge spiritual experience, but that didn’t happen. What did happen was that I was baptized for one of my deceased relatives, and I felt a still, small voice whisper to me, “You are doing the right thing.”
On the way home I really thought about what had happened at the temple. I realized I didn’t need the huge spiritual experience I had been expecting. I was so glad I had the Holy Ghost with me that day so that I could hear the still, small voice.
I’m so thankful for the temple and all of its blessings! The temple has brought me and my family great blessings, happiness, and experiences with the still, small voice.
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👤 Parents
👤 Youth
Baptisms for the Dead
Children
Family History
Holy Ghost
Revelation
Temples
Tag, You’re It!
Summary: At recess, Tami plans a mean game where everyone will only tag Ally. Lauren refuses to participate and walks away to find Ally. Most of the other kids follow Lauren, and they invite Ally to play an inclusive game of tag together.
“I’m so excited for recess!” Ally told Lauren as they put their lunch boxes back on the shelf in their classroom. “Tami just said we’re all going to play tag together on the playground today.”
“Fun!” Lauren said. “I love tag.”
Lauren was happy and surprised that Tami had invited Ally to play. Tami had always been mean to Ally. Lauren was glad she was finally trying to be nice.
“I need to take a book to the library first, so make sure they don’t start without me.” Ally smiled as she ran down the hall to the library.
Lauren raced out to the playground. When she got there, Tami was already gathering the other kids into a circle. Lauren ran over to join them.
“Hurry up, everyone!” Tami called as she motioned everyone into a tight huddle. “I have a fun idea I want to tell everyone before Ally gets out here.”
Lauren didn’t feel very good about this.
All the kids squeezed into the huddle to hear. “Instead of tagging everyone like we usually do,” Tami said, “let’s just tag Ally. But no one better tell her, or else!” Tami giggled. She seemed so proud of herself.
Lauren looked at the other kids in the circle. A lot of these kids hadn’t been nice to Ally since kindergarten. That’s when the kids really started being mean to Ally. They would make fun of her and tease her. Most times Tami started it and the other kids would follow.
Lauren had never liked how they treated Ally. She decided right then that she wouldn’t follow along with them. She knew everyone was a child of God and should be treated with kindness.
She took a deep breath and looked Tami in the eyes. “That doesn’t sound like a fun idea to me. I don’t think we should treat Ally like that. So I don’t want to play.”
Lauren walked out of the circle and started back toward the school alone to find Ally.
At least she thought she was alone.
Then she heard, “Hey, wait up!” Lauren turned around and there were most of the kids from Tami’s circle. She couldn’t believe it!
“Let’s go find Ally and start our own game of tag,” Damon said.
“I want to play too!” Lea said. The others nodded.
Lauren smiled. That awful feeling in her stomach was gone.
“Good idea!” Lauren said. “There’s Ally coming over right now.”
She turned and tapped Damon on the shoulder. “Tag, you’re it!” she yelled, then raced toward Ally. And all the kids came racing after.
“Fun!” Lauren said. “I love tag.”
Lauren was happy and surprised that Tami had invited Ally to play. Tami had always been mean to Ally. Lauren was glad she was finally trying to be nice.
“I need to take a book to the library first, so make sure they don’t start without me.” Ally smiled as she ran down the hall to the library.
Lauren raced out to the playground. When she got there, Tami was already gathering the other kids into a circle. Lauren ran over to join them.
“Hurry up, everyone!” Tami called as she motioned everyone into a tight huddle. “I have a fun idea I want to tell everyone before Ally gets out here.”
Lauren didn’t feel very good about this.
All the kids squeezed into the huddle to hear. “Instead of tagging everyone like we usually do,” Tami said, “let’s just tag Ally. But no one better tell her, or else!” Tami giggled. She seemed so proud of herself.
Lauren looked at the other kids in the circle. A lot of these kids hadn’t been nice to Ally since kindergarten. That’s when the kids really started being mean to Ally. They would make fun of her and tease her. Most times Tami started it and the other kids would follow.
Lauren had never liked how they treated Ally. She decided right then that she wouldn’t follow along with them. She knew everyone was a child of God and should be treated with kindness.
She took a deep breath and looked Tami in the eyes. “That doesn’t sound like a fun idea to me. I don’t think we should treat Ally like that. So I don’t want to play.”
Lauren walked out of the circle and started back toward the school alone to find Ally.
At least she thought she was alone.
Then she heard, “Hey, wait up!” Lauren turned around and there were most of the kids from Tami’s circle. She couldn’t believe it!
“Let’s go find Ally and start our own game of tag,” Damon said.
“I want to play too!” Lea said. The others nodded.
Lauren smiled. That awful feeling in her stomach was gone.
“Good idea!” Lauren said. “There’s Ally coming over right now.”
She turned and tapped Damon on the shoulder. “Tag, you’re it!” she yelled, then raced toward Ally. And all the kids came racing after.
Read more →
👤 Children
👤 Friends
Children
Courage
Friendship
Judging Others
Kindness
Becoming Emotionally Resilient
Summary: A recently returned missionary struggled with anxiety and panic attacks after coming home and initially hid her feelings. Prompted by prayer, she opened up to her brother and sister-in-law and later enrolled in the Church’s emotional resilience course. Applying the course’s principles, she learned to seek help, serve and be served, and received compassionate support from loved ones. She still experiences anxiety at times but now has tools, greater peace, and a deeper relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
Life was going according to plan.
I was just about to complete my mission. During the previous 18 months, my testimony had been strengthened, and my vision of the plan of salvation had expanded. I had never felt closer to my Savior and my Heavenly Father. Life just seemed blissful.
Sure, my family and I were experiencing our share of trials, but overall, I was excited and had a lot of plans for what would come next. But then I came home. And the shock was pretty brutal. I struggled adjusting to everyday life again. I worried incessantly about making good choices and being perfect in my obedience. I put so much pressure on myself to stay at the high spiritual level that I had throughout my mission because I feared that if I didn’t, I would regress spiritually.
As the pressure I put on myself increased, I started experiencing anxiety and panic attacks. They became more and more frequent, and I eventually felt like I was drowning.
Unfortunately, I hid my feelings from my family and friends. I knew that anxiety and depression were nothing to be ashamed of, but I felt so out of control and lost that I didn’t even know how to express what I was experiencing to seek help.
Thankfully, the Lord is always there to guide us when we turn to Him. After some pondering and prayer, I felt prompted to open up to my brother and his wife. They helped me recognize that I wasn’t as “crazy” as I thought and that emotional struggles can happen to anyone.
Sister Reyna I. Aburto, Second Counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency, testified of this truth: “My dear friends, it can happen to any of us—especially when, as believers in the plan of happiness, we place unnecessary burdens on ourselves by thinking we need to be perfect now. Such thoughts can be overwhelming. Achieving perfection is a process that will take place throughout our mortal life and beyond—and only through the grace of Jesus Christ.”1
As I prayed to Heavenly Father for guidance, I realized that I needed to give the resources He has provided for us a chance, and I needed to learn and change for the better. Gratefully, at that time I had the chance to attend the Church’s emotional resilience course. The opportunity seemed to come at just the right time, and I don’t believe it was a coincidence.
In the course manual, emotional resilience is defined as the following:
“The ability to adapt to emotional challenges with courage and faith centered in Jesus Christ.
“Helping yourself and others the best you can.
“Reaching out for additional help when needed.”2
In other words, emotional resilience is something we all need.
To me, this inspired course is a clear sign that Heavenly Father is aware of the trials we are facing nowadays as members of the Church of Jesus Christ. He wants to be able to help us keep moving forward on the path back to Him. Seeing the many beautiful aspects of this course helped me realize just how deeply Heavenly Father knows each of us and our individual needs, and I immediately felt peace as I started studying. The course teaches clear and powerful eternal truths that can be applied to our lives when dealing with mental health issues, whether it be ourselves or someone we love.
One of the teachings that struck me is found in chapter 9, “Providing Strength to Others.” This chapter is what helped me finally reach out for more help. It teaches the principle of serving one another. I learned how important it was to serve others by validating their feelings, emotions, and opinions and reaching out with empathy and understanding. I also realized that I needed to trust others to help me in my struggles.
When I was able to put these ideas into practice and open up to my family and friends about my mental health struggles, I was surprised that they were so compassionate and nonjudgmental. I received so much support from them.
I feel like my anxiety would have taken a deeper and darker turn if I hadn’t shared my challenges with my loved ones. And this experience helped me reach out and empathize with others about their worries and problems too.
I find it funny how when I came back from my mission, I was so worried about losing the “spiritual ground” that I had gained during my mission, because now I realize that coming home was just the beginning of a new chapter where I could find new ways to deepen my faith.
My personal relationships with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ have grown and deepened so much since I came home, especially because of the principles I learned in this emotional resilience course and through relying on Heavenly Father and the Savior for help. They feel much more real and present in my everyday life.
I’ve learned and accepted that as children of God, we constantly change, learn, and evolve. And yet through our life changes, Heavenly Father is unchanging. He didn’t expect me to be perfect on my mission, and He doesn’t expect that now. He simply loves me and wants me to continue to strive toward Him and do the best I can on my journey back to Him.
Now, just because I took this emotional resilience course, that doesn’t mean that I don’t have any more anxiety or panic attacks or moments when I feel overwhelmed by fear of the future. I still do at times. But now I recognize these patterns and have learned tools to help address them in a healthier way, improving the quality of my daily life.
In the end, this course taught me coping mechanisms for times when I experience anxiety and challenges. It taught me to have patience and compassion for myself and my imperfections. And I learned to understand how God sees me and to not be terrorized by the unknowns of the future.
Through both professional and heavenly help, I’ve come to realize that we have the necessary tools to know how to “act … and not to be acted upon” (2 Nephi 2:26) by our emotions and feelings as we continue to move toward Christ.
I was just about to complete my mission. During the previous 18 months, my testimony had been strengthened, and my vision of the plan of salvation had expanded. I had never felt closer to my Savior and my Heavenly Father. Life just seemed blissful.
Sure, my family and I were experiencing our share of trials, but overall, I was excited and had a lot of plans for what would come next. But then I came home. And the shock was pretty brutal. I struggled adjusting to everyday life again. I worried incessantly about making good choices and being perfect in my obedience. I put so much pressure on myself to stay at the high spiritual level that I had throughout my mission because I feared that if I didn’t, I would regress spiritually.
As the pressure I put on myself increased, I started experiencing anxiety and panic attacks. They became more and more frequent, and I eventually felt like I was drowning.
Unfortunately, I hid my feelings from my family and friends. I knew that anxiety and depression were nothing to be ashamed of, but I felt so out of control and lost that I didn’t even know how to express what I was experiencing to seek help.
Thankfully, the Lord is always there to guide us when we turn to Him. After some pondering and prayer, I felt prompted to open up to my brother and his wife. They helped me recognize that I wasn’t as “crazy” as I thought and that emotional struggles can happen to anyone.
Sister Reyna I. Aburto, Second Counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency, testified of this truth: “My dear friends, it can happen to any of us—especially when, as believers in the plan of happiness, we place unnecessary burdens on ourselves by thinking we need to be perfect now. Such thoughts can be overwhelming. Achieving perfection is a process that will take place throughout our mortal life and beyond—and only through the grace of Jesus Christ.”1
As I prayed to Heavenly Father for guidance, I realized that I needed to give the resources He has provided for us a chance, and I needed to learn and change for the better. Gratefully, at that time I had the chance to attend the Church’s emotional resilience course. The opportunity seemed to come at just the right time, and I don’t believe it was a coincidence.
In the course manual, emotional resilience is defined as the following:
“The ability to adapt to emotional challenges with courage and faith centered in Jesus Christ.
“Helping yourself and others the best you can.
“Reaching out for additional help when needed.”2
In other words, emotional resilience is something we all need.
To me, this inspired course is a clear sign that Heavenly Father is aware of the trials we are facing nowadays as members of the Church of Jesus Christ. He wants to be able to help us keep moving forward on the path back to Him. Seeing the many beautiful aspects of this course helped me realize just how deeply Heavenly Father knows each of us and our individual needs, and I immediately felt peace as I started studying. The course teaches clear and powerful eternal truths that can be applied to our lives when dealing with mental health issues, whether it be ourselves or someone we love.
One of the teachings that struck me is found in chapter 9, “Providing Strength to Others.” This chapter is what helped me finally reach out for more help. It teaches the principle of serving one another. I learned how important it was to serve others by validating their feelings, emotions, and opinions and reaching out with empathy and understanding. I also realized that I needed to trust others to help me in my struggles.
When I was able to put these ideas into practice and open up to my family and friends about my mental health struggles, I was surprised that they were so compassionate and nonjudgmental. I received so much support from them.
I feel like my anxiety would have taken a deeper and darker turn if I hadn’t shared my challenges with my loved ones. And this experience helped me reach out and empathize with others about their worries and problems too.
I find it funny how when I came back from my mission, I was so worried about losing the “spiritual ground” that I had gained during my mission, because now I realize that coming home was just the beginning of a new chapter where I could find new ways to deepen my faith.
My personal relationships with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ have grown and deepened so much since I came home, especially because of the principles I learned in this emotional resilience course and through relying on Heavenly Father and the Savior for help. They feel much more real and present in my everyday life.
I’ve learned and accepted that as children of God, we constantly change, learn, and evolve. And yet through our life changes, Heavenly Father is unchanging. He didn’t expect me to be perfect on my mission, and He doesn’t expect that now. He simply loves me and wants me to continue to strive toward Him and do the best I can on my journey back to Him.
Now, just because I took this emotional resilience course, that doesn’t mean that I don’t have any more anxiety or panic attacks or moments when I feel overwhelmed by fear of the future. I still do at times. But now I recognize these patterns and have learned tools to help address them in a healthier way, improving the quality of my daily life.
In the end, this course taught me coping mechanisms for times when I experience anxiety and challenges. It taught me to have patience and compassion for myself and my imperfections. And I learned to understand how God sees me and to not be terrorized by the unknowns of the future.
Through both professional and heavenly help, I’ve come to realize that we have the necessary tools to know how to “act … and not to be acted upon” (2 Nephi 2:26) by our emotions and feelings as we continue to move toward Christ.
Read more →
👤 Missionaries
👤 Young Adults
👤 Friends
👤 Church Members (General)
Adversity
Faith
Family
Jesus Christ
Mental Health
Missionary Work
Prayer
Revelation
Service
Three Days Down the Kootenay
Summary: Professional river guide Erwin Oertli steers the narrator’s raft into a dangerous rapid with two hidden rocks. He explains the hazards and maneuvers skillfully, rowing left to miss the first rock and hard right to avoid the second. After a harrowing drop and waves, they pass through safely.
Erwin Oertli, a river guide and the oarsman for our raft, gripped the handles of long, wooden oars in knotted fists. The muscles in his arms tightened. There was a growing roar of fast water on rock. The current carried the raft around a bend toward a steep precipice of water. Oertli dropped the tip of an oar and pulled. The raft straightened. The air grew dense, cold, and wet with mist. He turned, smiling.
“This is a good one.” His voice was nearly drowned in the roar.
“It’s the only bad place on the whole river.”
The veins in his neck stood out.
“There are two rocks.”
The sound of the water changed from a roar to thunder.
“The first one is right in the head of the rapids in the roughest water. It’s not hard to miss, but the second rock comes up fast right behind it. You have to row left to miss the first and then hard to the right to miss the second one.”
The river dropped suddenly in front of the raft, looking more like a waterfall than a rapid. The front of the raft hung suspended in wet air and dropped, suddenly, breathlessly, angling down toward the river.
Screams mixed with the explosive sound of the river. Hands grasped desperately to a cord of rope that ran around the inside of the raft.
The raft hit the water, crashing. An engulfing wave, fringed with a thousand sparkling fragments that felt like ice, came up and over and into the raft from all sides, blotting out the blue sky, submerging it. It rose suddenly into the sun, on a high wave mountain, water running off the black rubber sides, and fell again, into an impossible depth, plunging down a steep canyon of water on a roller coaster ride. The water was a gray silk in the waves, and near the crests, edged with sky, it rose up like a white cambric lace.
Oertli, standing, hit the oars hard. The raft moved across the water, turning. He relaxed. The raft rifled past a grizzly turbulence where a boulder, covered with foam and spilling water, back-eddied a whirlpool.
He hit the oars a second time, hard, pulling and leaning, handling the raft with the skill of a master craftsman. The raft moved across the current, and the second rock, also hidden below a mound of the Kootenay’s gray water, swept safely behind.
When we were through the rapids, he leaned back and smiled.
“Good one, huh?”
No one disagreed.
“This is a good one.” His voice was nearly drowned in the roar.
“It’s the only bad place on the whole river.”
The veins in his neck stood out.
“There are two rocks.”
The sound of the water changed from a roar to thunder.
“The first one is right in the head of the rapids in the roughest water. It’s not hard to miss, but the second rock comes up fast right behind it. You have to row left to miss the first and then hard to the right to miss the second one.”
The river dropped suddenly in front of the raft, looking more like a waterfall than a rapid. The front of the raft hung suspended in wet air and dropped, suddenly, breathlessly, angling down toward the river.
Screams mixed with the explosive sound of the river. Hands grasped desperately to a cord of rope that ran around the inside of the raft.
The raft hit the water, crashing. An engulfing wave, fringed with a thousand sparkling fragments that felt like ice, came up and over and into the raft from all sides, blotting out the blue sky, submerging it. It rose suddenly into the sun, on a high wave mountain, water running off the black rubber sides, and fell again, into an impossible depth, plunging down a steep canyon of water on a roller coaster ride. The water was a gray silk in the waves, and near the crests, edged with sky, it rose up like a white cambric lace.
Oertli, standing, hit the oars hard. The raft moved across the water, turning. He relaxed. The raft rifled past a grizzly turbulence where a boulder, covered with foam and spilling water, back-eddied a whirlpool.
He hit the oars a second time, hard, pulling and leaning, handling the raft with the skill of a master craftsman. The raft moved across the current, and the second rock, also hidden below a mound of the Kootenay’s gray water, swept safely behind.
When we were through the rapids, he leaned back and smiled.
“Good one, huh?”
No one disagreed.
Read more →
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
Adversity
Courage
Proud of Who I Am
Summary: At age 11, the narrator began a first babysitting job and felt uneasy upon seeing cigarettes and alcohol in the home. When the mother asked what church she attended, the narrator hesitantly whispered she was Mormon, expecting disapproval. Instead, the mother praised Latter-day Saints and admonished the narrator to be confident and stand up for her beliefs. The experience prompted the narrator to resolve to live her faith boldly.
As an 11-year-old, I prepared for my first real babysitting job, and I didn’t quite know what to expect. As I entered the home I became a little nervous at the sight of cigarettes on the table and various containers of alcohol on the kitchen counter.
As the mom explained the basic babysitting procedures for her children, she also asked me where I went to school and what my favorite subjects were. Then she asked what church I went to. At that moment I froze. I didn’t know how to answer because I didn’t know what kind of reaction I would get from someone who obviously didn’t live by LDS standards. I tried to pretend I didn’t hear her, and I continued to prepare the baby’s crib for her nap. A little louder and more curious, she asked again, “Where do you go to church?”
I turned around slowly and with my head slightly lowered whispered, “I’m Mormon.” Although my response was barely audible, she knew exactly what I said. Contrary to what I was expecting, this woman began to reprimand me for lacking the confidence to be proud of being a Mormon. Although I don’t remember her exact words, I do remember her sharing stories about all the Mormons she had encountered in her life and how wonderful they were. She lectured me about standing up for what I believe in, holding my head up high, and being proud to be a Latter-day Saint.
The rest of the evening I babysat and pondered this woman’s words. I knew that if I was going to be a good member of the Church, I had to give it my all. I don’t remember how much money I made that evening or even how long I babysat, but I do know that once you discover you have a testimony, you have to stand up for what you know is right.
As the mom explained the basic babysitting procedures for her children, she also asked me where I went to school and what my favorite subjects were. Then she asked what church I went to. At that moment I froze. I didn’t know how to answer because I didn’t know what kind of reaction I would get from someone who obviously didn’t live by LDS standards. I tried to pretend I didn’t hear her, and I continued to prepare the baby’s crib for her nap. A little louder and more curious, she asked again, “Where do you go to church?”
I turned around slowly and with my head slightly lowered whispered, “I’m Mormon.” Although my response was barely audible, she knew exactly what I said. Contrary to what I was expecting, this woman began to reprimand me for lacking the confidence to be proud of being a Mormon. Although I don’t remember her exact words, I do remember her sharing stories about all the Mormons she had encountered in her life and how wonderful they were. She lectured me about standing up for what I believe in, holding my head up high, and being proud to be a Latter-day Saint.
The rest of the evening I babysat and pondered this woman’s words. I knew that if I was going to be a good member of the Church, I had to give it my all. I don’t remember how much money I made that evening or even how long I babysat, but I do know that once you discover you have a testimony, you have to stand up for what you know is right.
Read more →
👤 Youth
👤 Other
Children
Courage
Testimony
Word of Wisdom
Matt and Mandy
Summary: During family prayer time, a parent asks how long it would take for Matt to meet a national leader, noting it could take months and might be brief and distracted. They then contrast this with prayer, where Matt can immediately speak to Heavenly Father, who listens as if Matt were the only person. Matt concludes he is glad it is his turn and that he can pray anytime.
Illustrations by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
It’s time for family prayer, everybody. Gather around.
I believe it’s Matt’s turn to pray.
Are you sure? It seems like I just had my turn.
I have a question for everyone. Suppose Matt wanted to talk to the leader of our country—or any other country. How long would it take him to get an appointment?
A week?
A month?
It would probably take many months. And it might never happen at all. Even if it did, such a busy person couldn’t talk to him long and might not pay very close attention.
And yet in a few seconds, with no appointment and no waiting, Matt will be speaking on our behalf to Heavenly Father—the God of the whole universe—for as long as he likes. And Heavenly Father will listen as if Matt were the only person in existence.
Wow! What do you guys think of that?
I think I’m glad it’s my turn, and that I can have a turn whenever I want.
It’s time for family prayer, everybody. Gather around.
I believe it’s Matt’s turn to pray.
Are you sure? It seems like I just had my turn.
I have a question for everyone. Suppose Matt wanted to talk to the leader of our country—or any other country. How long would it take him to get an appointment?
A week?
A month?
It would probably take many months. And it might never happen at all. Even if it did, such a busy person couldn’t talk to him long and might not pay very close attention.
And yet in a few seconds, with no appointment and no waiting, Matt will be speaking on our behalf to Heavenly Father—the God of the whole universe—for as long as he likes. And Heavenly Father will listen as if Matt were the only person in existence.
Wow! What do you guys think of that?
I think I’m glad it’s my turn, and that I can have a turn whenever I want.
Read more →
👤 Parents
👤 Children
Children
Family
Parenting
Prayer
Friend to Friend
Summary: Elder Reeve describes the influence of his parents and grandparents, recalling their faith, service, and remarkable experiences, including miracles, hardship, and devotion to others. He also shares his own childhood illnesses and love of school, leading into his belief that children must know Heavenly Father. The passage concludes with his testimony that God is real, loves every child, and is as close as we allow Him to be through our obedience.
“My father was a big man, six feet four inches tall. He was probably as fine an athlete as any in the state. He could run, pole-vault, and throw the discus. He played on the team that won the first Church M-Men basketball championship. He was also on the all-state basketball team. He might have had a promising athletic career, but his dad died, and as the oldest of eleven children, he had to leave school to help raise his brothers and sisters. Dad was a great soul, very generous, and he worked in the Scouting program for forty years.
“My mother was only five feet two inches tall. A very capable individual, she had been a schoolteacher before I was born, and she was an elocutionist (one who excels in public speaking). Before I started school, she taught me all the things that are taught in the first, second, and third grades. When my two brothers and two sisters came along, she didn’t have as much time to spend teaching me, and then I was just ordinary in school.
“During the Depression, my grandfather came to live with us. He had crossed the plains eighteen times, bringing people to Utah from Missouri. He would get an assignment to do this just as you might be assigned to work on the welfare farm. I sat at his feet and listened to his stories about hauling rocks for the temple, crossing the plains, and hunting bears. He was a good hunter—he had to be to survive.
“This grandfather was a stake clerk, and he would go around the stake to audit the books. He would travel in a horse and buggy maybe forty miles to a town where a ward was, audit the books, stay overnight, then go twenty-five miles to another town. One time when he was in Oak City, he had a feeling that he should return home that night. He hitched up his horse and buggy and drove twenty-six miles to his home, getting there just as the sun was coming up. He hurried into the house and asked his wife what was wrong. She told him that their youngest daughter was near death. He blessed the little girl, and she was made well.
“My mother’s mother really made an impression on me. When I was nine, she had a stroke and could no longer speak. I remember her lying on a bed in my aunt’s home. The doctor thought that she should have a stimulant, so he had some coffee prepared to give to her. She had never drunk coffee, and I can still see the fire in her eyes as she let the doctor know that she wasn’t going to drink any then, either! He got the message, and she didn’t get the coffee.
“My other grandmother, my dad’s mother, was a visiting teacher to a family during a flu epidemic after World War I. The whole family was sick with the flu; three of them had already died. My grandmother went into their home and took care of them and even dressed the bodies of the dead members in preparation for their funeral. I have always been impressed with what a faithful visiting teacher she was.
“I myself came down with smallpox, a deadly disease in those days. I was isolated in the granary, which had a stove. Pillows were tied on my hands so that I couldn’t scratch the big pox that covered my body. The Lord blessed me so that today I don’t have any pockmarks. I also had diphtheria, another deadly disease, and the Lord spared my life then too.
“I loved school and had some wonderful teachers. One of them was ElRay L. Christiansen, who later became a General Authority. He would tell us about different pieces of music and make them live for us. I still have a great love for opera and classical music.”
Elder Reeve believes that children must be acquainted with Heavenly Father. If He is the center of their lives and they love Him and talk with Him, then He can take them through any trial or problem. It might not all be pleasant, but they can survive.
“God is real. He lives, and He loves you. He loves every child; He doesn’t have favorites. He is as close to you as you will let Him be by how you live, how you mind your parents, and how you keep His commandments.”
“My mother was only five feet two inches tall. A very capable individual, she had been a schoolteacher before I was born, and she was an elocutionist (one who excels in public speaking). Before I started school, she taught me all the things that are taught in the first, second, and third grades. When my two brothers and two sisters came along, she didn’t have as much time to spend teaching me, and then I was just ordinary in school.
“During the Depression, my grandfather came to live with us. He had crossed the plains eighteen times, bringing people to Utah from Missouri. He would get an assignment to do this just as you might be assigned to work on the welfare farm. I sat at his feet and listened to his stories about hauling rocks for the temple, crossing the plains, and hunting bears. He was a good hunter—he had to be to survive.
“This grandfather was a stake clerk, and he would go around the stake to audit the books. He would travel in a horse and buggy maybe forty miles to a town where a ward was, audit the books, stay overnight, then go twenty-five miles to another town. One time when he was in Oak City, he had a feeling that he should return home that night. He hitched up his horse and buggy and drove twenty-six miles to his home, getting there just as the sun was coming up. He hurried into the house and asked his wife what was wrong. She told him that their youngest daughter was near death. He blessed the little girl, and she was made well.
“My mother’s mother really made an impression on me. When I was nine, she had a stroke and could no longer speak. I remember her lying on a bed in my aunt’s home. The doctor thought that she should have a stimulant, so he had some coffee prepared to give to her. She had never drunk coffee, and I can still see the fire in her eyes as she let the doctor know that she wasn’t going to drink any then, either! He got the message, and she didn’t get the coffee.
“My other grandmother, my dad’s mother, was a visiting teacher to a family during a flu epidemic after World War I. The whole family was sick with the flu; three of them had already died. My grandmother went into their home and took care of them and even dressed the bodies of the dead members in preparation for their funeral. I have always been impressed with what a faithful visiting teacher she was.
“I myself came down with smallpox, a deadly disease in those days. I was isolated in the granary, which had a stove. Pillows were tied on my hands so that I couldn’t scratch the big pox that covered my body. The Lord blessed me so that today I don’t have any pockmarks. I also had diphtheria, another deadly disease, and the Lord spared my life then too.
“I loved school and had some wonderful teachers. One of them was ElRay L. Christiansen, who later became a General Authority. He would tell us about different pieces of music and make them live for us. I still have a great love for opera and classical music.”
Elder Reeve believes that children must be acquainted with Heavenly Father. If He is the center of their lives and they love Him and talk with Him, then He can take them through any trial or problem. It might not all be pleasant, but they can survive.
“God is real. He lives, and He loves you. He loves every child; He doesn’t have favorites. He is as close to you as you will let Him be by how you live, how you mind your parents, and how you keep His commandments.”
Read more →
👤 Parents
Adversity
Family
Sacrifice
Service
Young Men
One Act of Kindness
Summary: While serving in Akure, a missionary had a small gift and sought inspiration on whom to give it to. He felt impressed to give it to a lonely boy whose parents were not Church members. The boy’s mother came the next Sunday to thank him, then later joined the Church. The boy was happy to see his mother baptized.
One never knows what a little kindness can generate. One January, while serving in Akure in the Nigeria Lagos Mission, I had a small gift that I wanted to give to someone. I wondered, “Whom can I give it to that will benefit from it?” I took the gift to church two Sundays, yet I was undecided.
On the third Sunday, I went to church thinking I would give it to a good friend. He did not come to church that day, but I had a feeling that someone else needed it. Looking around the chapel, I saw a boy whose parents were not members of the Church. He seemed so lonely. I felt impressed to give him the gift. I presented it to him, feeling very happy within.
Something wonderful happened. His mother came to church the following Sunday. She thanked me for the gift. She said, “I have been promising my son that I would one day come to church. Today I came to express my gratitude for the gift.” That was how my companion and I met her; since then she has joined the Church. How happy the boy was to see his mom finally baptized.
I know that by small means great things are brought to pass.
On the third Sunday, I went to church thinking I would give it to a good friend. He did not come to church that day, but I had a feeling that someone else needed it. Looking around the chapel, I saw a boy whose parents were not members of the Church. He seemed so lonely. I felt impressed to give him the gift. I presented it to him, feeling very happy within.
Something wonderful happened. His mother came to church the following Sunday. She thanked me for the gift. She said, “I have been promising my son that I would one day come to church. Today I came to express my gratitude for the gift.” That was how my companion and I met her; since then she has joined the Church. How happy the boy was to see his mom finally baptized.
I know that by small means great things are brought to pass.
Read more →
👤 Missionaries
👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Church Members (General)
Baptism
Conversion
Holy Ghost
Kindness
Missionary Work