Gospel Story Finder

Stephen Robinson, in his excellent book, “Believing Christ,” makes this point with what he calls “The Parable of the Bicycle.” I’m sure many of you are familiar with it.

For those who aren’t, I will briefly summarize it. His seven-year-old daughter, Sarah, was the only child in their neighborhood who did not have a bike, and she ardently wanted one.

Brother Robinson was not in a position to buy one for her so he suggested she conscientiously save her pennies and she would soon be able to buy it herself.

As time passed, she would regularly come to her father to show him the old fruit jar that held her money and ask if she had saved enough to get the bike. One day she said, “You promised if I saved all my pennies, pretty soon I’d have enough to get a bike. And Daddy, I’ve saved every single one.”

He realized she was doing everything in her power to follow his instructions, but her needs were still not being met. With a melting heart, he told her to gather what she had saved and they would go to the bike shop.

Sarah soon saw the bike of her dreams but it cost over $100, hopelessly beyond her means. With a heart full of love, he told her, “Let’s try a different arrangement. You give me everything you’ve got, the whole sixty-one cents, and a hug and a kiss, and the bike is all yours.”

With excitement and joy unique to children, Sarah rode the bike home while her father followed in the car. It then occurred to him that this was a parable for the atonement of Christ.

Let me read the analogy in his words:

“We all want something desperately, but it’s not a bicycle. We want the kingdom of God. We want to go home to our heavenly parents worthy and clean. But the price – perfect performance – is hopelessly beyond our means. At some point…we realize we cannot pay it. And then we despair.”

“At that point the Savior steps in and says, ‘So you’ve done all you can do, but it’s not enough. Well, don’t despair. Let’s try a different arrangement. How much do you have? You give me exactly that much and do all you can do, and I will provide the rest for now…Perfection will still be the ultimate goal, but until you can get it on your own, I’ll let you use mine.”

My family used to live in a big house, but everything changed when we moved to Hanoi. We lived in a very small apartment, about 30 square meters. Living in a narrow space with three other people in my family was hard.
But I’m grateful that God can help make good things come from any situation. During that time, I was able to be an interpreter at church and for my parents. I could pray every day, I passed the sacrament, and I welcomed people investigating the gospel. I know that God has blessed me and guided me to do those things.
Through all the challenges at that time, my faith became stronger day by day. Many people don’t know about the gospel in my country, so I’m a young pioneer. I have a desire to share the gospel of Jesus Christ with people to help them have a happy life forever with Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father.

When a choice plant became root bound and began to deteriorate, a young friend of ours decided to transplant it to a larger container. Carefully he lifted the greenery from its small pot and put it into its larger home, trying to disturb the roots and soil as little as possible. The novice gardener watched and waited. To his dismay, the plant still struggled. Our friend expressed his frustration to an experienced gardener who offered his services. When the plant was placed in the gardener’s hands, he turned the pot upside down, pulled out the plant, shook the soil from the roots, and clipped and pulled all the stragglers from the root system. Replacing the plant into the pot, he vigorously pushed the soil tightly around the plant. Soon the plant took on new life and grew.

A true story from the USA.
Edith listened to the pitter-patter of rain against the window. Drip, drip, drip.
She frowned. It had rained all day, and the sky was gray. It was cold and sad outside. Kind of like her.
She sat on a bench in a quiet corner, tugging on her itchy black dress. Her shiny new shoes were black too. She wished she was home instead of at the funeral place.
Her older cousin, Savannah, sat down next to her. “How are you doing?” Savannah asked. All her family had traveled to be at the funeral this morning. Everyone wore black clothes and looked sad.
Edith shrugged. “OK, I guess.” She didn’t really want to talk. Her dad had died a few days ago in an accident. She felt all twisted up inside thinking about it. She missed him so much.
Savannah reached an arm around her, and Edith leaned in. She was grateful for her cousin. But why did God have to take her dad away from them?
“Is God mad at me?” Edith asked.
Savannah frowned. “Why do you think that?”
Edith looked at her shoes. “He took my daddy away.”
Edith felt tears in her eyes. She looked up to see Savannah wiping away a few tears of her own.
“Edith,” Savannah said, “Heavenly Father isn’t mad at you at all. He loves you and your family so much. Sometimes things happen that we don’t understand, but He always loves us.”
“Really?” Edith asked.
Savannah nodded. “Really. It can help to remember that you’ll see your dad again! Because Jesus Christ was resurrected, we’ll all be resurrected too.” She smiled. “And we can try to remember all of the things we love about your dad to keep him close.”
Edith thought about her dad. He loved talking about Jesus. He had the best smile and the funniest laugh. He gave the best hugs. And he always cheered her up when she was feeling sad. Suddenly, she felt warm, like she was getting a hug right from her dad.
She looked up. “That helps a little. But I’m still sad.”
“It’s OK to be sad. I’m really sad too,” Savannah said. “We all miss your dad a lot.”
Edith thought about something she had learned in Primary. “Heavenly Father can help us when we’re sad,” she said. “Can we say a prayer right now?”
Savannah nodded, and they folded their arms.
“Heavenly Father, thank Thee for Jesus and His Resurrection,” Edith said. “Thank Thee for always loving us. Please take care of my dad. Please help us to remember him and keep him close in our hearts. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Edith opened her eyes and took a deep breath.
When they walked out of the building, it was still cold and rainy. But now there was a tiny ray of sunshine peeking out through the gray clouds. It still seemed sad outside, but now, it felt just a little bit hopeful too. Kind of like her.

Darkness covered the city of Nauvoo, but there was a restlessness in the air. Here and there, windows were bright with lamp light. Chickens were stirring. Somewhere a dog howled.

Eleven-year-old Mary Ann raised up on her elbow in bed when she heard a horse gallop up to the door of their house.

“Sister Pratt!” called a voice. “Joseph and Hyrum are dead! Murdered by a mob at the Carthage jail!”

Mary Ann gasped. Barely breathing, she strained to listen as her mother went to the door and talked to the messenger in low, anxious tones. Suddenly she felt alone and frightened.

As her feet touched the wooden floor, she heard the door close and lock behind the messenger. All at once she was in her mother’s arms and both of them began to cry.

Mary Ann wished “Father” were there to tell them everything would be all right. Her real father had died suddenly when she was just a baby, but when Mother married Parley P. Pratt, Mary Ann had learned to love him and call him “Father.” Now he was away on a mission.

Mary Ann’s thoughts were interrupted when little Susan began to whimper. Her mother lifted the baby out of the cradle and rocked her. Even through her tears, Mama’s voice was sweet and clear, as if she were still singing with the choir.

“Do you think he knew it was coming, Mama?”

“Everyone was concerned for his safety. His life was constantly threatened.”

“I think he knew,” Mary Ann insisted. “Do you remember three weeks ago in the grove on Mulholland Street when the Prophet asked all the children to meet the next Sabbath for a Sunday School? Then he said, ‘I don’t know if I can be here. I will if I can, but Brother Stephen Goddard will be here to take charge.’ Don’t you think he knew, Mama?”

Mary Ann’s mother held her close, next to little Susan, who was sleeping peacefully on her mother’s lap. They both knew it was a question to which there was no answer. Together they watched the sun brighten the sky and smelled the perfume of roses and sweetbriar, brought in on the early morning breeze.

“I remember that, Mama.”

“Someday you can tell Susan all about it.”

“Oh, yes, I will!”

Mary Ann slid to the floor and knelt at her mother’s knees so she could look into the sleepy-eyed face of her little sister.

“I’ll tell her how I knew Joseph Smith was a Prophet of God the first time I saw him—and how I still know it! And some day, in heaven, Susan and I will be able to see the Prophet together.”

When fourteen-year-old Joseph Smith received his first vision in 1820, Charles Smith was a year old. But his life, like the lives of thousands of people in the British Isles during the nineteenth century, would be profoundly affected by that vision. As a young man, Charles heard the gospel message in his native England and became part of “the gathering to Zion.” He is one example of the faithful, though not famous, Saints who left their homes and came to Utah.
Charles was born July 10, 1819, in Ipstones, England. His parents, John and Ann Varley Smith, had six other sons and one daughter. Because Charles was not a strong child, he was apprenticed to a watchmaker. Children in England at that time did not have the opportunity to go to school unless their parents were very wealthy. Boys were apprenticed, or taught a trade, at an early age in exchange for their work. Sometimes they were only seven or eight years old.
In 1840, when Charles was twenty-one years old, he heard two Mormon missionaries preaching the gospel. He knew that what they were teaching was true, and he asked to be baptized. Charles was the only member of his family to join the Church. Not long after his baptism, Charles also became a missionary and was the companion of the missionary who baptized him! Charles served his mission in England and North Wales until 1843.
Later Charles and his fiancée, Sarah Price, said good-bye to their families and went to Liverpool, a seaport from which most of the Latter-day Saint emigrants embarked. They were married on shipboard after they set sail for Nauvoo. Although the trip across the Atlantic Ocean aboard the Equinox was long, the 572 Saints “arrived in full health and vigor, with not one soul lost, full of praise and thanksgiving to the God of Israel for his mercy in blessing them with a safe journey with no serious difficulty” (Journal of Charles Smith).
The company of Saints remained together on the second part of the trip, from New Orleans up the Mississippi River to Nauvoo. As their boat landed at Nauvoo on April 12, 1843, the Prophet Joseph was standing on the riverbank to welcome them! The next day he delivered an address to the new arrivals that was very comforting to them after their long journey.
Charles worked in a brickyard and as a watchmaker. He also had the opportunity to help build the temple. A musician all his life, Charles played the flute and the dulcimer, a stringed instrument something like a harp, in the Nauvoo Band.
Sarah and Charles were happy in Nauvoo and grateful that they had joined with the Saints. However, the Saints began to be persecuted by mobs. Charles and Sarah’s first son, John, was born in June, 1844, just a few weeks before the Prophet was martyred. John died in January of 1846 while the first group of Saints was preparing to leave Nauvoo for the West. A second son, Charles Edward, was born in August of that year, when the mobs were gathering to drive the rest of the Saints from Nauvoo.
Charles helped Mary Fielding Smith, Hyrum Smith’s widow, move her belongings across the river. He and Sarah and little Charles Edward spent the winter at Winter Quarters, then, in March, fit out for the trip West. In fitting out, Charles bought a yoke of oxen, a wagon, a cow, food, and other supplies. They left Iowa City in March, joining Isaac Higbee’s company, and entered the Salt Lake Valley in September, 1848.
The Smith family needed a home to live in, so Charles began making adobe bricks so that he could build a house. Charles also worked at his trade and was the first watchmaker in Salt Lake City.
Not long after the Smiths were settled in their new home, Charles Edward, who was two years old, fell into a pot of boiling water and was scalded to death. Of the nine children born to Sarah and Charles, only five lived to adulthood.
A second mission call came to Charles, and he returned to his homeland in 1852, leaving Sarah with a small daughter. He was thrilled to see his mother and family again. Still, none of them were interested in the Church.
Charles received another mission call in 1862. This time he was to take his family and help settle St. George, where he planted cotton, corn, peaches, and sorghum. St. George was a difficult place in which to live because it was very hot and dry. The pioneers tried many times to dam the Virgin River so that they could irrigate their farms, but each time a spring flood washed out the dam. At times Charles had to go back to Salt Lake City to work as a watchmaker for a while to earn enough money to feed his family. Finally, after ten years of his family’s living in a one-room house, he was able to build a larger home in St. George.
Throughout the trials that he and his family endured—the deaths of their children, persecutions of mobs, separation from his family during his three-year mission, and difficult living conditions—Charles remained faithful and enthusiastic about the gospel. A devoted student of the scriptures, he was second counselor to Bishop Henry Eyring in the St. George Second Ward. Later Charles served on the stake high council there for twenty-seven years, and he spent many years doing temple work. For the last five years of his life he was the patriarch of the St. George Stake.
His granddaughter Ethel Smith Matheson remembered him as a very gentle, soft-spoken man who always carried a pocketful of peppermints. His grandchildren always ran to him for a handout and a kiss. She recalled that for many years he climbed the steep stairs of the town clock in St. George to take care of the clockwork.
Charles Smith, like many other early converts to the Church, helped build the kingdom quietly and steadily. Because he listened to the missionaries and was willing to leave home and family, hundreds of his posterity have enjoyed the blessings of the gospel.

Refugee camps are temporary settlements for people who are forced to leave their home because of war or other reasons. They’re meant to offer safety, and this one did so, but life for Muriel and her family was still a long way from easy.
“We were grateful to be away from the war,” Muriel says. “And the people who ran the camp did the best they could to help us, but there wasn’t enough.”
Not enough food, not enough shelter, not enough medicine—not enough of anything.
“Insects would bite us at night,” she remembers. “And we would be without food for days at a time. There was also a lot of disease in the camp.”
The refugee settlement camp today.
Photograph from Getty Images
Muriel and her family were not members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at the time, but they were devoted and practicing Christians. They had rock-solid faith in God and in His Son, Jesus Christ. “My parents kept telling me that I can always pray and fast.”
So that’s what she did. As a child in a refugee camp, at an age when many kids are learning to read and write, Muriel was praying every day for survival. She prayed for food. She prayed for safety. She prayed for the strength and courage to keep going.
And she saw God work miracles in their lives.
“God got us away from the war,” she says, “so I knew I could trust Him. Whenever we needed Him the most, like when we had nothing to eat for so long, He always blessed us. He worked small miracles that built up my faith in Him.”

Many years ago, a non-Mormon scholar, told an interesting story on the BYU campus in Provo. It deeply impressed me with the strong connection between the first and second generations of pioneers and the present generation of young people and converts in the Church.

Before World War II, the respected musician Bruno Walter was the conductor of the famous Vienna Symphony Orchestra. This symphony was a unique musical organization with a spirit and unity and synergism that produced glorious music, powerful and unmatched by any other symphony.

When the Nazis took over Austria, the conductor fled to America. It was not until 1947 that he was finally able to return to Austria. Upon his return, his first priority was to visit his treasured Vienna Symphony.

As he approached the concert hall where they were rehearsing, he could hear the strains of their glorious music. Mr. Walter said that if he had been anywhere on the face of the earth and had heard that magnificent sound, he would have been able to identify it as coming only from his beloved Vienna Symphony. When he entered the concert hall, to his amazement, he discovered that although the exquisite musical quality was still there, not a single one of the musicians playing with the symphony then had played with it before the war, when he was its conductor. All of them were new, but the quality and powerful spirit of that remarkable orchestra remained unaltered.

The war over, Alexandria planned to return to her parents. But she became ill, spent two weeks in a hospital, and missed her train. That was a blessing, she now realizes; returning Russians faced great struggles, and living conditions were much better in Germany than in Russia. While living in a displaced-persons camp in 1945, Alexandria met a handsome American soldier on a blind date. After months of courtship, they were married, and two years later Sergeant Ronnie Graybeal brought his young bride to the United States.

I met Bill Forrest and Debbie Hutchings when we were students at Brigham Young University. Bill had returned from his mission. He and Debbie fell in love and were married in the Oakland California Temple. They established their home in Mesa, Arizona, and were blessed with five sons and two daughters. Bill and Debbie taught their children to love the Lord Jesus Christ as they loved Him. Their son, Elder Daniel Forrest, currently serving in the Mexico Oaxaca Mission, said, “Every morning without fail we were there at the table before school reading and discussing the scriptures.”

Their daughter Kara, now married with two children of her own, still vividly remembers her father driving her to early morning activities in high school. She said, “My dad enjoyed committing quotes, scriptures, and poems to memory, [and during those early morning drives] we would practice reciting them.” One of his favorite scriptures was “Remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, … [he] shall have no power over you to drag you down … , because of the rock upon which ye are built.”

On the Friday before Easter Sunday in the year 2000, exactly 10 years ago, Bill Forrest was serving as bishop of the Estate Groves Ward in Arizona. On his drive to work, only a mile (1.6 km) from home, his car was struck by a large gravel truck. Debbie and the children left home shortly after Bill and unexpectedly came upon the tragic scene. Bill had not survived the accident. The immortal spirit of this beloved husband and father had suddenly been taken home to Him who overcame death, the Son of God, whose glorious Resurrection they were to have celebrated together that Easter Sunday.

How did Debbie and her seven children (the youngest only 5) find the strength they needed? Kara, 15 at the time of her father’s accident, recently told me: “I am grateful to my [mother and father] for the ways that they taught me [about the Savior]. They opened the scriptures with me, prayed with me, and were examples of [the Savior’s] charity, love, and patience. … Easter [is] a tender time in my life each year as I reflect on the life, mission, and Resurrection of our Savior and am reminded of the life of my earthly father.”

Elder Daniel Forrest said: “I was 10 years old when my father passed away. It was a tough time. … My mother has always been an example of the Savior’s teachings. I carry with me my father’s name badge from his mission to Spain. [Two] of my favorite quotes from my father [are]: ‘Two men can do anything as long as one of them is the Lord’ and ‘The Savior must be our foundation. Without that we flounder.’”

Faith in Jesus Christ has filled the hearts of the Forrest children. On this Easter weekend, 10 years since their father’s passing, they miss him deeply, but the sting of his death is “swallowed up in Christ.” They know, because of the incalculable gift of the Savior, they can be with their earthly father and their Heavenly Father again.

Prison Warden Kenyon J. Scudder has told this story:
He happened to be sitting in a railroad coach next to a young man who was obviously depressed. Finally the man revealed that he was a convict returning from a distant prison. His imprisonment had brought shame on his family, and they had neither visited him nor written often. He hoped, however, that this was only because they were too poor to travel and too uneducated to write. He hoped, despite the evidence, that they had forgiven him.
To make it easy for them, however, he had written them to put up a signal for him when the train passed their little farm on the outskirts of town. If his family had forgiven him and felt that he could rebuild his life in his own home and own town, they were to put a white ribbon in the upper branch of the apple tree located in the lower pasture near the railroad tracks. If, however, they felt it would be best for him to rebuild his life in a new environment, in a new city, they were to do nothing, and he would remain on the train.
As the train neared his home town, the suspense became so great he couldn’t bear to look out of his window. His companion changed places with him and said he would watch for the apple tree. In a minute, he put his hand on the young convict’s arm. “I can see the tree,” he said.
The young man then asked, “Does it contain a white ribbon?”
The reply, “Not one white ribbon, but a white ribbon on every branch!”
In that instant, all the bitterness that had poisoned a life was dispelled. Warden Scudder said to the young man, “I feel as if I have witnessed a miracle.”
The young man responded, “Perhaps you have.”

When I was younger, I followed bad examples. I was curious to do the things my friends were doing. But I started feeling lost and sad. To make things worse, my family went through a lot of trials. My mom was diagnosed with a serious illness, and my brother tried to take his own life.
With all of this going on, I lost faith. It was hard to go to church because I didn’t feel like I belonged. But after a while, my leaders’ lessons made me realize that I still believed, even though my testimony was weak.
I had to work hard to stop doing and even thinking about things I knew were bad for me. I often prayed for the Lord’s help as I repented. Then one day, I found a photo of when I was a little girl and President Russell M. Nelson visited our ward. He was carrying me. I knew the photo was a reminder that God was looking out for me.
I know Jesus Christ sacrificed Himself for my sins. He can sustain us through hard things and help us find the right path, even if we get lost for a time.
Maria O., Ecuador

During the summer of 2001, 17-year-old Tricia Hale had an idea, or a dream as she calls it, to put on a spiritual Christmas dance program that would portray the life of Christ.
She enlisted the help of three friends and fellow dancers (Anna Woolf, 17; Jill Hendrickson, 16; and Donelle Crandell, 16) at her high school in Mesa, Arizona, to turn the dream into reality.
The dancers were on the school’s dance team but had taken issue in the past with music and costumes they felt were inappropriate or not in keeping with Church standards. They wanted to use their talents to present their testimonies of Christ by dancing to sacred music and wearing modest outfits.
The program that resulted would be an experience that strengthened their testimonies and was well-received by family, friends, and the community. Other young women took over after these girls graduated, making the spiritual experience an annual program.
Other dancers are invited to join them in planning, practicing, and performing. Although some of the dancers are not members of the Church, prayer, devotionals, and sharing testimonies are part of rehearsal time.
The free program, entitled “Let There Be Praise,” portrays the life of Christ from birth to resurrection through scriptures, narration, slides, and lyrical dance to hymns and other spiritual music. It drew more than 500 people the first year, and the audience has since grown.
Clint W. Smith, president of the Mesa Kimball Stake, enjoys the performance.
“Dressed in white, these girls are so modest and pure and are able to share their talents and gifts in a way that is very powerful and appropriate,” he says. “It is a wonderful experience for those who are in it and for those who see it.”
McKenzi Fackrell, one of the group’s past presidents, admits it was a lot of work to organize and head up the program. “But it was so worth it,” she says. “It is such a testimony builder.”
After McKenzie graduated, Kelly Allen took over as co-president and chose a younger co-president, Brianna Barba, to work with her.
“I just love it,” says Kelly, who has danced since she was nine years old.
Even though Kelly keeps busy with the school’s dance group and making straight A’s, she’s able to keep her life organized.
“Being involved in this is a big blessing,” she says. “Somehow there is time for everything.”
Brianna has danced in the program since she was in eighth grade. “It has strengthened my testimony so much,” says the honor student, who is also involved in the school’s dance group and competition cheer squad.
In a devotional she told the dancers, “Christ can turn our shabby gifts into a beautiful miracle and a shining star.”
Brianna has been able to use the program for missionary experiences, inviting a friend to dance as Mary and another to perform a vocal solo for one of the dances.
“I knew they would be able to feel the Spirit and also bring their families so they would be able to share in this, too,” she says.
Brianna’s younger sister, Brittney, who performed for the first time as a sophomore, is one of many dancers who uses the experience as a Personal Progress project.
“I chose Individual Worth, because being in this has helped me learn so much about myself,” she says. “When you learn about Christ, you learn more about being a daughter of Heavenly Father and how much He loves you. My testimony has grown so much.”
The program ends with the song “How Great Thou Art,” and the dancers raise their arms in praise.
“The group has never done a curtain call because we want that to be the last thing the audience sees,” says Tricia Hale Campbell, who is now a dance teacher at her own studio and has continued to help the high school students with the program. “This isn’t about the dancers. We feel grateful to use our talents in a spiritual way to focus on the Savior and we give that glory to the Lord.”
Sisters Kelsey, Kali, and Karissa Jarvis say that there are a lot of opportunities to sing or speak your testimony, but not a lot of places to dance your testimony.
“It lets others know that I do have a testimony,” says Kelsey.
Older sister Kali agrees. “You know how you feel bearing your testimony or having a great spiritual experience with someone? It’s the same great feeling, but you get to share it with all these people in dance.”
Kim Hathcock has returned to perform after graduating. “It’s one thing that makes Christmas meaningful for me,” she says.
During high school she performed as Mary. “It really made my testimony grow,” she says. “I also feel like we’re doing service, because so many people who see it comment that this is what gets them into the real Christmas spirit.”
Christy Quintero is a member of a local Christian church. “I thought it would be a good experience to dance to Christian music,” she says. “I really like being with everybody; they are good examples to be around.”
Don Johnson, whose daughter, Aimee, has performed for several years, says he enjoys the “spirit-filled” program.
“These girls are so busy themselves, but they sacrifice to put this on so we can feel the Spirit,” he says. “That’s very Christlike.”
Drama teacher Sandy Stones of the Mesa Kimball Stake is the faculty sponsor for the club and is on hand when the girls practice.
“It’s an honor and privilege for me to sponsor the group,” she says. “They are a light to the school and community.”

This past year has been a remarkable time for our family. Our only daughter, Jenny, and her husband, Mark, have longed for a child of their own. Though it was not their first choice, they began to think about adoption. In January 2010, Mark was struggling with pneumonia. During this time, Mark and Jenny were preparing to adopt a baby. As Mark's condition worsened, Jenny encouraged him to see the doctor once more. On a February morning, as they drove to the doctor's office, Mark and Jenny mailed some of their final adoption papers. But what was just a doctor's visit changed our family's whole perspective. Mark was diagnosed with stage four non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. (Picture of Mark in Hospital) It was a terrible shock. Everything was different now. Our family went from looking forward to a new baby to praying Mark would regain his health.

During this past year, we have learned to count our blessings and trust the Lord. We learned of the goodness of people. We felt the prayers, love and support of family members and friends. We experienced miracles. One miracle was Mark's healing. Another was watching the Lord open the door and connect Mark and Jenny to a remarkable young woman who chose to place her new baby girl with Mark and Jenny. In December Mark's cancer screenings were clean and clear and on December 15th Paige Ryann was born and came home in time for Christmas. (Photo 5 Mark, Jenny and Paige) What a miracle! Through the Holidays I pondered the question: "What was the first gift of Christmas?" The answer of course is: "A Child." (Photo 6 baby Paige) I now understand in an entirely different way the infinite goodness, wonder and blessing of the birth of a child. Never forget that at Christmas time what we really celebrate is our Heavenly Father's supernal gift: a child, His only begotten Son.

Before I was old enough to date, my parents discussed the rules for dating and the expectations they had for me. Based on those expectations, we have a tradition in our family that the first date be a double date arranged by an older sibling. When I turned 16, my older sister and her future husband arranged a perfect double date for me.
Our first destination was to grab strawberry ice-cream cones. Then we headed to a beach, had dinner, and walked around. We went to the fun alley for some air hockey and games. At a playground, we ate yummy birthday cake. What a great first date!
By following my parents’ rules, I have been able to enjoy each stage in life. I have experienced group dating, then single dating, and now the blessing of a temple marriage.

I live on a small cattle ranch in Missouri, USA. I have the responsibility of feeding hay to the cows during the winter and early spring, and moving them on to spring pastures. One day we had our herd bulls in a pen, and we needed to move some cows through the pen to another pasture. Usually the bulls are very gentle, so I didn’t feel concerned. But this time the bulls started to get anxious with the other cows nearby. Two of our biggest bulls, Oscar and Billy, who weigh about 2,000 pounds (907 kg) each, started head butting each other and pushing each other around. It was a bullfight!
Some younger bulls were on the outside of the pen with the cows, and they came up and wanted in on the battle! I was standing nearby at a closed gate when I felt a sudden prompting to move out of the way. Just then Oscar and Billy busted through the gate and charged out into the field, right where I had been standing a few moments earlier! I knew that the Holy Ghost had prompted me to get out of the way and kept me safe from being trampled or even killed.
I know that if we try to choose the right every day, we can have the Holy Ghost as our guide. He can help keep us safe from harm’s way!

When I first joined L?hui I was scared to huli, or flip the canoe. After being in the canoe once it had flipped, I found out there are much worse things to worry about – like trying to get back into it after it has been righted. Falling out is easy – gravity and momentum help with that. However, getting in the canoe is hard. You must work against gravity to do that. But, just like everyone works together to move the canoe forward, everyone in the canoe works together to right it and get everyone back in. The first time getting back in the canoe I needed some extra pushing and pulling to flop myself into the canoe. It was awkward, uncomfortable, and weird. But I was so overcome with gratitude for my teammates not leaving me in the ocean and paddling off without me that the gratitude I felt for them helped make it not weird. Now that I can get into the canoe by myself (mostly), I have much more compassion and grace for those just beginning out.

Susan Wolf, now of the Vashon Branch, Seattle Washington Stake, remembers when she received inspiration for a special family home evening. “We had just moved, and I was expecting a new baby,” says Sister Wolf. “With two preschoolers, I wanted to find a family home evening on the topic of preparing children for a new sibling. Nothing I read seemed quite right. So I prayed. My great desire was for our children to realize that having more children in our family did not equate to less love for them. And I wanted to emphasize that Jesus Christ is the source of all love. As I got up from my knees, an idea occurred to me.
“That Monday evening after singing and having an opening prayer, I handed each child a paper cup. I poured water into each cup and asked, ‘What happens if I run out of water?’ My son answered, ‘You go to the sink and fill up the pitcher, Mommy.’
“I explained, ‘We are going to have a new baby, and Mommy will be much busier. I won’t have as much time to play with you. But Mommy won’t run out of love for you. Do you know why?’
“This time my son and his three-year-old sister looked thoughtful but didn’t have an answer. I said, ‘I’ll just pray to Heavenly Father, and Jesus will fill up my heart with more love. So everyone in the family will have all the love they need.’ My children broke into happy smiles, as did my husband. The feelings in our hearts confirmed the presence of the Holy Ghost bearing testimony of the truth that God is love.
“My daughter, now 23, recently repeated word for word this family home evening lesson of years ago. That was a testimony to me that even a very small child can be spiritually taught when love is the subject and Jesus Christ is the source.”

Before I got my patriarchal blessing, I prayed to know if it was the right time for me to receive my blessing. Then I prepared myself by becoming more spiritually in tune. When the day came I was so excited! While my patriarchal blessing was being pronounced upon me, I imagined that my Heavenly Father was there with his hands on my head saying the words himself. In that way my patriarchal blessing was much more personal to me.
Colleen Peterson, 15Salem, Oregon

1. Anna sat with her CTR 6 class in the Primary room. Sister Howe told the class,
Today we are going to talk about Christmas gifts. I would like you to think about what you can give to Jesus.
What gift could I give to Jesus? I don’t have very much money.
These gifts don’t cost money. They come from the heart. Who can name a gift you could give to Jesus?
2. Christina and Mason said,
I can be reverent in church.
I can be nice to my little brother.
3. Sister Howe handed a paper angel to each child.
You can write a gift you want to give to Jesus on your paper angel. Then the Primary president will put the angels on a tree.
4. Anna wrote, “I will say my prayers every day.”
5. The next Sunday, Anna saw the angel tree at church. She looked for her angel and saw it on a branch in the middle.
I love Christmas, Mom. And this year will be the best Christmas of all.
Why is that?
Because I’m giving a gift to Jesus.