Gospel Story Finder

Most of the people who live in Iceland belong to the state church, and Binni, Unnur, and Matthías are the only Latter-day Saints in their school. When the time came for his baptism, Binni decided to do some missionary work. He told his parents he would like to invite one special person—his schoolteacher! Binni’s mother and father encouraged him to ask her, but cautioned him that she might choose not to come. But on the day of his baptism, she was there at the church! “She even stayed afterwards, had some refreshments with us, and asked some things about the Church,” said Binni. He was excited that she had accepted his invitation and that his first efforts as a missionary had been successful.

One Sunday, my Primary teacher taught us about faith. She helped us plant sunflower seeds. I took mine home and planted them in the flowerbed. It took a long time, but we got a lot of rain and sun, and the sunflowers grew taller than our house! Our faith can grow big like the sunflowers. We need to pray, read the scriptures, and keep the commandments. My mom says that if I give my faith the things it needs, it will grow tall and strong like my sunflowers.

A little while ago my family and I moved to Kentucky. I was really upset because I was leaving all my friends and extended family behind. Kentucky was very different from what I was used to. The first time we went to church, I saw that there weren’t very many people there. When I realized how small my branch was, I decided that I would do something about it.
The next day, my mom and I went to the store. Before we left the house, I grabbed a stack of pass-along cards. When we got to the store, I got a candy bar and went to check out. The cashier scanned the candy, then handed it to me. I handed it back. She looked confused and said, “You just paid for this, ma’am.”
I said, “I know, but I’m giving this to you as a gift.” Then I put a pass-along card with the candy. She smiled and thanked me. She looked at the back of the pass-along card, where I had written, “Everyone is a child of God.” I walked away with happiness, knowing that even if she didn’t join the Church, I still did something good.
Later that day, I remembered that I left the rest of the pass-along cards by the cash register! The next time we went to the store, I went to ask if they were still there. Then I saw something, and I stopped in my steps. About five of the cash registers had pass-along cards that said, “Everyone is a child of God.” The cashier had passed them out! I felt so happy because of what I did.

I was living away from home for the first time when my parents separated. It was only my first month of college, and as my family life shifted, I struggled to understand the meaning of the word home. When my parents divorced and my family moved out of the home I had lived in for the last 18 years, I was especially confused. I knew I wasn’t homeless, but I certainly felt that way.
I have often heard the Church described as a “refuge from the storm” (D&C 115:6). Institute became that refuge for me as I battled this new storm in my life. I enrolled in institute, and while I don’t recall the exact words spoken in the lessons, I will never forget the feelings of peace and comfort that came to me as I listened. I began to discover the love my Heavenly Father has for me, and I became much more closely acquainted with the best counselor I have ever found: Jesus Christ.
I have to pay for my college education, yet I learn the most valuable lessons from institute classes, which are available to me for free. I see now that the definition of home isn’t necessarily the house in which you grow up but a place where life’s lessons are taught and love abounds. Because of what I learned and the Spirit I felt, institute has become a new home for me. It is wonderful having a place where I feel loved and welcome.

I looked down at my lap. No matter how I tugged at my skirt, it didn’t cover my knees. It just wasn’t fair! I almost never got a store-bought dress. It was a summery green fabric, and when I wore it my eyes looked more green than their normal gray-blue. It fit perfectly too. And it was modern, without being weird.
Beverly had a new outfit that made my eyes blink. It was an orange and purple skirt and top with matching tights in a big, wild, diamond pattern. Beverly always wore the latest styles. When I’d worn my new green dress the week before, she had complimented me for the first time.
It was hard to be me. It was bad enough to wear glasses as thick as a sugar bowl, to be as skinny as a pencil, and have a huge mouth full of oversized teeth. Beverly had long blonde hair, long eyelashes, and no glasses, either. Next to Beverly, I felt ugly and awkward. One way to make up the difference was with fashionable clothes.
Finding that green dress was amazing. Buying it had been a miracle. Mom had taken down the hem, and it was perfect. Now, one laundry day later, my chance to be noticed was over.
My mother came into the room. “What’s the matter?” she asked. I guess my tear-misted glasses gave me away.
“Look at this dress!” I wailed. “It shrank in the wash!”
Mom understood how much that dress meant to me. “Oh, Linda,” she said softly. “I promise I followed the washing directions on the tag.” But she could see as I did that it had shrunk just enough to be too short.
We talked it over, but there wasn’t a happy solution. The hem had already been lengthened as far as it could go. Mom and Dad were immovable on their rule: girls in our family covered their knees. Mom cried with me as we took the dress to the thrift store box in the garage.
I moped for several days. It seemed so unfair that my parents could ruin my life by something as silly as a rule about knees. I had never been a rebel. I knew my parents loved me, so I had trusted them to be sensible. Until now.
I was troubled. I realized that this was a major decision: I could continue to follow my parents’ rules or I could choose not to. There were ways to rebel. I saw girls at school sometimes roll up their skirts at the waist to make them shorter. It was up to me.
One day in church, our class talked about Joseph Smith’s First Vision. As the teacher read about Joseph’s decision to ask God which church to join, I realized that I was in a similar situation. I needed to know for myself if my parents’ dress standards were right or if they were too strict. Like Joseph, I decided I could simply ask Heavenly Father.
I thought about it for several days. I remembered the process I had gone through when I’d prayed about being baptized. The answer had come because I had been ready to receive it. I decided to fast and pray. Because this was an important decision, I knew it would probably take more than one day’s effort to learn the answer. I talked to my parents about my plan.
“I’ll fast with you,” Mom offered.
Dad gave me a clue. “Linda,” he said, “if you want a testimony of a certain principle, practice living it.”
I tried to do everything I could so that I would be able to hear that still, small voice. Meanwhile, I practiced keeping the standard that my parents required.
Heavenly Father answered my prayers through my feelings and in my mind. One day, as I was getting ready for church, I realized that I knew what Heavenly Father wanted me to do. Through the prompting of the Holy Ghost, I knew that Heavenly Father expects me to dress modestly. Just like Joseph Smith, I knew that I had received an answer and that I could not deny it. The knowledge was like a warm, peaceful understanding that filled me from head to toe. I wondered how I could have ever felt sorry for myself for living a righteous standard. I felt that Heavenly Father was pleased with me. Nothing else mattered as much as that.
“I’m lucky to be me,” I thought. I didn’t need to be like Beverly or anybody else. What a relief!
I had friends, but I was never really popular. I learned how to be happy without being popular. That’s how I know it can be done. Never again was I an invisible nobody. Heavenly Father helped me become beautiful in my own way.

Last year, students from Mesa Skyline Seminary in Arizona agreed to work together in creating a habit of daily scripture reading. They accepted the challenge to read the scriptures each day for at least 15 minutes. For every three days a student did this, he or she could write his or her name on a new wooden block.
As the blocks were earned and marked, they were glued together, eventually forming a replica of an ancient American city the students affectionately called “Zarahemla.” After seven weeks of reading and learning, a total of 1,750 blocks were cut, earned, and labeled with a name. The replica city was 12 feet in length, 8 feet wide, with a city wall, four corner towers, a large temple at the center, and hundreds of smaller buildings and shops within.
Building the city of Zarahemla “got me into the habit of reading my scriptures longer,” says Marissa Madsen, 16. “I really appreciated seeing something physically being built as a reminder of my testimony growing as I continued to read the scriptures.”
Randy Chavez, 17, agreed that the project was a big success. “It was nice to be unified as an entire seminary to achieve one large goal, and I felt excited to do my part. Because of the project, I read more frequently and longer.”

In April 2009 former Presiding Bishopric counselor Richard C. Edgley told the story of an exemplary quorum that mobilized to assist a fellow member who had lost his job:
“Phil’s Auto of Centerville, Utah, is a testament of what priesthood leadership and a quorum can accomplish. Phil was a member of an elders quorum and worked as a mechanic at a local automobile repair shop. Unfortunately, the repair shop where Phil worked experienced economic trouble and had to let Phil go from his job. He was devastated by this turn of events.
“On hearing about Phil’s job loss, his bishop, Leon Olson, and his elders quorum presidency prayerfully considered ways they could help Phil get back on his feet. After all, he was a fellow quorum member, a brother, and he needed help. They concluded that Phil had the skills to run his own business. One of the quorum members offered that he had an old barn that perhaps could be used as a repair shop. Other quorum members could help gather needed tools and supplies to equip the new shop. Almost everyone in the quorum could at least help clean the old barn.
“They shared their ideas with Phil; then they shared their plan with the members of their quorum. The barn was cleaned and renovated, the tools gathered, and all was put in order. Phil’s Auto was a success and eventually moved to better and more permanent quarters—all because his quorum brothers offered help in a time of crisis.”

Packing up enough food and supplies to feed and take care of 50 families for an entire year is no easy task—just ask the young women of the Reading England Stake. They spent a day packing boxes for Europe’s “Feed the Children” program into a truck which then transported the supplies to hungry children and mothers in Albania.
The boxes—2,450 in all—took an entire day to pack full of canned beans, sausages, vegetables, soup, sugar, powdered milk, candy, matches, and toilet paper. At the end of the day, the young women returned to the church for a devotional in which many young women bore their testimony of service.
“I know that when we serve in a spirit of love and sincere concern for the welfare of others, the Spirit of the Lord can work through us,” said one young woman.

Nathan and his cousins were playing by a large ditch. They knew they shouldn’t play so close to it, but it was fun to throw rocks into the water. Suddenly Nathan slipped and fell into the ditch. His cousins yelled for help. Fortunately, Uncle Gary ran and pulled Nathan from the water just before he went into a large pipe. Uncle Gary saved Nathan’s life that day.

You can probably imagine how grateful Nathan’s family was to Uncle Gary. How much more grateful we ought to be to Jesus Christ! His Atonement made it possible for us to live forever. He paid the price for our sins if we repent. No wonder we celebrate Easter! In some parts of the world, people greet each other at Easter time by saying, “Christ is risen!” And their friends reply, “In truth, He is risen.” Jesus Christ—our Savior and our Redeemer—is risen! How great is our joy!

Five-year-old Wesley Larsen of Layton, Utah, lies in a hospital bed recovering from multiple injuries to his leg. He is surrounded by balloons, get well greeting cards, and large toy animals. But the thing he keeps closest to him is a small, homemade, brown teddy bear. The bear was given to him by the paramedics. What Wesley does not know is the bear is a gift from the young women of the West Point Utah Stake.
Wesley tells about the paramedics who took him by ambulance to the hospital and gave him the small bear because he was “brave.” During the weeks he spent in traction to repair his leg, the bear was never far from his side.
The comforting bear was the result of a project organized by Micki Adams, West Point Stake Young Women president, and Annice Nixon, her second counselor. After reading in a newspaper of a similar project in another community, they talked with Captain K. D. Simpson of their local sheriff’s department with the idea of placing teddy bears with the sheriff’s paramedic and patrol units.
The bears would be helpful, Captain Simpson told them, because children are involved in approximately 45 percent of all the calls for services by his department.
Knowing how anxious children are when confronting a policeman or a paramedic, the young women of the stake decided, “to give the children something to focus on beside their pain,” Sister Adams said. “We wanted to give them something to hold on to and to love.”
Consequently, at a stake Young Women meeting, work began on cutting out, sewing, stuffing, and hand finishing more than 200 bears.
Lori Ellsworth, a Beehive said, “The first bear I did was hard to make until I got used to doing it. But it was worth it because it might help someone forget their pain.”
Ninety bears were actually completed that evening. The girls took home the unfinished bears to complete in their own time.
The bears are twenty centimeters tall and made from scraps of fabric donated by some stake members. Other members donated the stuffing for the bears.
The sheriff’s department received 100 of the teddy bears. Another 100 were donated to the local hospital where they were hung on a Christmas tree so young patients could choose one for themselves.
When the paramedics or sheriffs respond to a call involving anyone under the age of ten years, they give the child a teddy bear. That’s become department policy.
Captain Simpson said, “It took two or three times for the paramedics to hand out the bears before they realized how effective they were in calming the children. Now the paramedics and sheriffs rely on the bears whenever they work with children.”
However, young children have not been the only recipients. The paramedics gave a bear to an 80-year-old woman who suffered a stroke. “It was the only thing that calmed her down,” said Captain Simpson. “She wouldn’t let go of the bear.”
Captain Simpson, who is also a flight paramedic, knows from his own experience how effective the bears can be with children. Twelve-year-old Nicole Wallace had to be flown by helicopter from one hospital to another. She was bleeding internally from a lacerated kidney and liver suffered in an automobile accident. She refused to let go of her bear at any time during the transfer from hospital to helicopter to hospital. She finally gave up the bear just before undergoing surgery.
Speaking about the accident, Nicole says, “The car was badly smashed, and the paramedics had to take out the back seat before they could lift me out of the rear window. When they put me in the ambulance, they gave me this cute little bear,” Nicole said. “It kept me from getting scared. I would hold on to it, so I wouldn’t hurt so bad. In the hospital it stayed right by me in my bed.”
Jennifer Techmeyer, a Beehive, said, “I thought it was a really a good thing to do to make something to put in the ambulance for the children. But what was really special was being able to donate our love to them.”

Lucy and her older sisters entered an art contest at their school about making the world a better place. Lucy wanted to paint a heart. She said, “The world be a better place if we have love in our hearts.”
When Lucy found out that her painting won the contest, she told her sister Ruby, “Yours is so good. I wish you would have won instead of me.” Then Lucy couldn’t believe it when she found out her painting won the contest for the whole United States too!

Many years ago, before homes were heated by gas or electricity, one of the major fuels in my home town was wood. In the late summer and fall we would take our wagon and team of horses into the mountains and bring down logs. The wagon consisted only of two front and two back wheels connected by a very strong hardwood pole called a reach.
The men and boys would leave early in the morning, often before sunup, to begin the long journey. Mother would fix a lunch, and the boys would ride on the skimpy wagon. Sometimes we would be lucky enough to take our ponies and ride ahead of the wagon and play we were real “scouts.”
Once the wagon turned off the main canyon road, the trails up through the ravines and over the ridges were narrow, steep, and rocky. Often the rain had caused gullies to wash down the trails, cutting away banks, exposing large rocks, and making deep ruts. Travel was very slow, but when we finally arrived, we all began work at once.
As the trees were felled, one of the horses would drag the logs over to the wagon, where we would roll or lift them up. Often the logs were so long they would hang over the back of the wagon. When the wagon was finally loaded, the logs were chained securely both in front and back. Then a large chain was wrapped around another half dozen logs, and these were tied to the back of the wagon to be dragged along the trail. With the already heavy load, I wondered at first why the straining horses were forced to pull these extra logs across the rough terrain. But I soon learned the reason.
Although going up the mountain road was rough, coming down the trail with such a heavy load was dangerous! It was difficult for the horses to hold back the heavily loaded wagon on the steep mountain roads. Even when the brakes were applied to keep the back wheels from turning, the wagon would skid and slide. The horses had to struggle to hold back the great weight of the wagon. The heavy logs dragging behind slowed the wagon enough to help the horses hold back the wagon. This way the horses were not pushed forward any faster than they should go, and a runaway or a tip-over on sharp turns into the deep canyon was prevented.
When the wagonload successfully had survived the dangerous descent and reached the main canyon road, the log drag was pulled to the side and left to be picked up later when there were sufficient logs on the side of the road to make a full load.

Jaslyn Simpson took a leap of faith in a Beehive class of only two girls in Wellington, New Zealand. The Beehive teacher of the Crofton Downs Ward challenged the girls, as part of their lesson on missionary work, to invite a friend to church. And Jaslyn decided she’d do it.
“I knew there was something missing in Amy’s life,” Jaslyn says, “so I knew I should introduce her to the gospel.” Jaslyn’s small action of love caused a major reaction in the life of her best friend, Amy Valentine. Amy came to church with Jaslyn at the first invitation and then kept coming to Sunday meetings and youth activities for the next two months, until Jaslyn and her family moved to Sydney, Australia.
“I’ve never really had a Christian background. I had no idea how to pray or anything,” Amy says. “But before they left, I decided I was going to keep going to church without them. By then, I sort of knew some other people at church.”
One of those people was Michelle Broczek, the other Beehive in the Crofton Downs Ward. Michelle invited Amy to take the discussions in her home and, with her parents’ approval, Amy was baptized when she was 13.

The story is told of a group of men who were talking about people who had influenced their lives and to whom they were grateful. One man thought of a high-school teacher who had introduced him to the poet Tennyson. He decided to write and thank her.
In time, written in a feeble scrawl, came this letter:
“My dear Willie:
“I can’t tell you how much your note meant to me. I am in my 80s, living alone in a small room, cooking my own meals, lonely and like the last leaf lingering behind. You will be interested to know that I taught school for 50 years, and yours is the first note of appreciation I have ever received. It came on a blue, cold morning, and it cheered me as nothing has for years.”

Thirteen-year-old Henry Sanderson, on his way from Connecticut to Nauvoo, Illinois, was not sure if he was riding a railroad train or a boat on wheels.
This was September 1842, and Pennsylvania’s forests were becoming dotted with the reds and golds of autumn. To cross the Allegheny Mountains, Henry boarded a train with his parents and two younger sisters. It had a steam engine like a normal train, but the passenger cars were actually boats on train wheels. Near the mountain summit, trainmen unhooked the engine and snapped a cable to the cars. A motor at the top wound the cable and pulled the train cars up. At the summit, men released the cars and let them coast down the other side of the mountains without any engine at all. Then, for Henry’s final train-boat adventure, trainmen removed the wheels and put the boat-cars into a canal. Horses on a towpath beside the canal pulled Henry’s boat-car to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
Henry knew his stay in Pittsburgh would be short, lasting only one winter. His parents, James and Mary Jane Sanderson, had joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints a few months earlier and had decided to move to Nauvoo. Henry felt glad to move because boys in his neighborhood in Norwalk, Connecticut, had made fun of him after his parents were baptized. At Pittsburgh, Henry helped his father do shoemaker’s work, a skill Henry had learned from him.
Late the next spring, the Sandersons boarded a steamboat and churned down the Ohio River and up the Mississippi River. They reached Nauvoo in the summer of 1843 when Henry was 14 and Nauvoo was barely four years old. Henry found young Nauvoo filled with new buildings, most of them small and made of wood, with taller brick houses here and there. Embracing the city on the west was a broad, crescent-shaped bend of the Mississippi River.
Soon after Henry’s family arrived, he hiked up the bluffs to visit the temple construction project. He walked around the 60-centimeter-high walls that workers were building skyward. He inspected the red brick store whose upper floor was the headquarters for the Church. On Main Street he found a brick post office and the Merryweather store.
The Sandersons became neighbors of Joseph Smith on Main Street, two blocks from the river. Henry’s parents moved into a log cabin next to Sidney Rigdon’s home, which stood between them and the Smiths’ new residence, the Mansion House. Henry saw workers put the final touches on the Mansion House, which the Smiths opened that September as a hotel.
Henry played with the Prophet’s sons. The oldest was Joseph Smith III, three years younger than Henry. Henry became best friends with Sidney Rigdon’s sons, Algernon and John W., who were near his age.
In Nauvoo, men and boys paid their tithing by working every 10th day on building projects. “My father and myself went regularly every 10th day to labor on the temple,” Henry said, “sometimes at the quarry and other times on the temple grounds.”
Henry, who knew and liked the Prophet, “had been to his house frequently and played with his boys and he would occasionally join us. I had been in games of ball where the Prophet was one of the players.”
Henry, 15, was outside his house when Joseph Smith left for Carthage. Henry saw Joseph shake hands and exchange canes with a stranger. Then Joseph rode away. That was the last time he saw the Prophet alive. Henry first heard the tragic news from Carthage Jail “when a runner went past our house shouting that the Prophet was killed.”
A day or two later Henry and crowds of others visited the Mansion House, where “I saw their murdered bodies after they were brought from Carthage.” The murders were “a sad blow to my father,” Henry said, “and for a time he was at a loss to know what the results would be, but [he] finally settled to the conviction that the Church would continue its progress and that the Twelve Apostles were the proper leaders.”
Needing income, Henry and his father went downriver to St. Louis, Missouri, to find jobs. His father joined George Betts’s shoe shop, which employed 25 men. Henry took a job at a small shop belonging to three LDS shoemakers. His mother and sisters joined them in St. Louis in the spring.
Henry’s good friends from Nauvoo, Algernon and John Rigdon, visited him in his new home. Their father, who had been Joseph Smith’s counselor, had decided to leave the Church and was moving to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. In “the last conversation that I had with them as we were saying good-bye,” Henry said, “the boys declared that they would return to the Church. … Knowing they were … sincere, I expected for some years to hear from them but was disappointed.” (John Rigdon rejoined the Church in 1904 just before he died.)
Mr. Betts sent Henry’s father to work on a farm that the Mississippi River had flooded the year before. The Sandersons moved there and lived in a “very good log house.” They plowed and planted, and the farm prospered. But with the summer heat, river sickness (probably malaria) struck the family. Henry’s father suffered the most and died on 16 September 1845, at age 41.
Henry, now 16, returned with his mother and younger sister, Mary Jane, 4, to Nauvoo. An older sister, Maria, stayed behind to work for the Betts family.
Henry, weak himself from the summer sickness, returned to St. Louis for his sister. He earned his passage downriver and back by working on the riverboats. On the trip down he was an assistant fireman, carrying firewood and loading and unloading freight.
On the boat trip back to Nauvoo, Henry was third cook and “had the cabin dishes to wash, they being brought down to me by the cabin boys.” He liked the job because he could eat the leftover food, which was better than what he usually ate. Some plates of food came to him “untouched,” so instead of dumping the food overboard as ordered, he let other cabin boys eat it.
Henry, who was big for his age, joined the Nauvoo Legion. He “enrolled in a Captain Black’s company” when unfriendly neighbors began harassing the Mormons in and around Nauvoo. Officers gave this teenager “something of a gun,” and he “sometimes was scouting all night and took delight therein, even at times when the mob was expected every hour.”
Early in 1846, when Henry was 17, the Saints had to leave Nauvoo. For the wagon trek across Iowa, Jonathan C. Wright hired Henry to be a chore boy and drive an ox team. Henry liked this job, except for Brother Wright’s restriction that Henry walk his horses but never run or race them.
While Henry was camped with the Wrights at Council Bluffs, Iowa, a United States army recruiter arrived. “I had told my comrades that he would not get a man,” Henry said. But President Brigham Young called a meeting in a brush-covered bowery and asked that 500 men enlist in the Mormon Battalion for the Mexican War. Henry felt impressed to answer the call, so he joined the army. Mr. Wright, upset at losing his hired hand, “was wrathy and said that I could not go.” But Henry went. He was not yet 18, as required by the government, “but as I had nearly got my growth in height I passed without difficulty.”
The next summer, when he was 18, he left California, where the Mormon Battalion had completed its march, and entered the Great Salt Lake Valley just after the 1847 pioneers arrived. Wanting to rejoin his family, he returned east with Brigham Young’s company late that same year to the Winter Quarters area.
Henry and his family came west three years later, in 1850. He married and lived at Union Fort, Fillmore, and Fairview, Utah. During his adult years he was a farmer, teacher, and shoemaker.

I grew up in Mexico with my siblings, my mother, and my grandmother. Every day after doing homework and chores, I played soccer. I loved soccer! I would pretend that my right leg was one team and my left leg was the other team.
One day when I was playing soccer, I suddenly couldn’t breathe very well. I rested for a few minutes, but I still had trouble breathing. I became so sick that I had to go to the hospital.
The hospital room had many other children in it, but I missed my family and felt very alone. Although I was not a member of the Church yet, I believed in God. Every day I prayed to be healed, but instead I got worse and worse. The doctors thought I might not live.
The doctors finally sent me home from the hospital, but I had to spend the next year in bed. I took many pills and had two shots every day. And I still had a prayer in my mind and heart. I told Heavenly Father that if I got well, I would serve Him all the rest of my life.
Then one day when I was reading in bed, I accidentally dropped my book on the floor. When I leaned down to pick it up, I realized that I was breathing normally. I dropped the book again. Again I could pick it up without any problem!
I got out of bed. At first I was dizzy because I had not walked by myself in such a long time. I looked in the mirror and saw that I was smiling. I knew that I had received an answer from Heavenly Father.
Every day since then, I have tried to do something to express my gratitude to Heavenly Father. When I grew up, I became a doctor to help answer the prayers of other children. And now I am trying to serve Heavenly Father with my calling in the Church.

The people who live in the house are Don and Clara Goudy and their seven children—four boys and three girls.
Until recently the Goudys had lived in the East Millcreek 14th Ward of the Salt Lake Mt. Olympus Stake. And as one neighbor, Doris Peterson, said: “They fit right in, and felt at home, and were very loved.”
The people in the ward describe Clara as one of the “bravest, strongest women, we know.” “She has been so diligent in spiritual things.” “A fantastic person.” “We all loved her.”
They remember Don when he first came into the ward. He was a “vital young man, a hard and willing worker.”
Then the ravages of disease began to take their toll on Don and, suddenly, Don and Clara had some hard things to face and some difficult decisions to make.
Don could no longer work hard to provide for those he loved. He became progressively worse, and at length he couldn’t work at all. Don and Clara decided to take their family back to Santaquin where they had been raised. There Clara’s mother had a piece of land on which a home could be built. It seemed the right place to assume the heavier load that was coming to her. And she could be near her 78-year-old mother.
In the hearts of far-sighted Aaronic Priesthood MIA leaders and a wise bishop was the knowledge that in service young people grow. Ideas for service were constantly being discussed. Young men and women were continually involved in the discussions.
Then three young men—candidates for the Eagle Scout Progress Award—had an idea. Could they take a lawn down to the Goudy’s new home? They knew Brother Goudy couldn’t put it in, and maybe Sister Goudy could use their help.
John Benson, the Aaronic Priesthood MIA young men’s president, encouraged the boys.
When first approached, Clara was a little reluctant. She and Don had always taken care of themselves and their own. What they had, they had shared. It had been enough.
But now the prospects for immediate landscaping were slim. Clara thought about that, but mostly she thought about the teachings of the gospel. “Yes,” she thought, “this is the gospel at work.” And then she told them they could come.
So Brother Benson and the three boys, Ted Bullen, Robert Purcell, and Gary Buehner, went down to Santaquin to see their friends, to plan out a yard, and to see what the project would cost.
It was decided that Gary would take care of fencing the property. Ted would see that the lawn was planted, and Robert volunteered to do the shrubbery, trees, and planting of flowers.
They measured the yard. They also had Sister Goudy’s desires in mind. Next they each went to experts to get some first-class help in planning the landscaping.
With the plans completed they proceeded to line up help and materials. Each boy organized his own project and work crew. As they worked the enthusiasm and support mounted.
Others in the ward wanted to help. They donated funds. They dug up shrubs and trees, taking them from their own yards. They went to the state capitol and were given some flats of flowers that were surplus.
As the project grew Bishop Lewis Farr counseled his people to work with the young people on this project as fathers and mothers would work with their own sons and daughters, assisting not only with money but also with physical labor on the planting day.
As Bob Purcell put it: “We had made our plans in detail, and it didn’t take too long when we got down there.”
Most of the materials and hand tools came with them from Salt Lake City, but several yards of top soil were needed. Contact was made with the bishop of the Santaquin Ward, and he saw to it that the top soil was delivered the night before. The Santaquin people also provided a tractor.
Brother Benson and the three boys went down early on the day of the project. He had grown up on a farm and knew how to handle the tractor. So with the boys directing, he spread the top soil, and by 7:30 A.M. they were ready for the work group. Between 50 and 60 people—youths and their parents and leaders—came down to help. A little later in the morning five or six people from the Santaquin Ward brought over their power tools and joined in.
Under Bob’s direction they dug holes and planted the shrubs and the trees. They planted the flowers, and the girls built a little stone path through the grass and edged the flower planting area with rocks Clara had been saving.
Gary and his crew dug post holes and cemented the poles in place for the chain link fence. They also prepared the framework, put up the cedar fence, and stained it.
At the same time Ted and his crews were rolling and planting the lawn, others were covering it with peat moss and wetting it down.
Then suddenly they were through. They had finished everything on their blueprints, and there was an entire yard growing.
As Alice Buehner, Aaronic Priesthood MIA young woman’s president, reported: “Not a whole day and it was accomplished. We just stood around and gazed at it.”
Then Don Goudy, who is now almost bedfast, came out of the house and walked out onto the porch. It was a tender moment as he looked around at what his friends had done for him. He said simply, “Thank you for all you’ve done.”
As Sister Buehner said: “It made me want to cry. I was really deeply moved.”
In addition to helping with the yard, the Wayne Ottleys who live in the ward went into the house and draped it.
Brother Benson summed it up this way: “By 3:00 there was a new yard. It was really an enjoyable day. And very exciting.”
Because of the spirit that was there that day, young and old felt a new commitment to service, and the spirit was catching. Since then the Santaquin Ward itself has turned out to put in lawns for two other families in need within their little town.
On the way back to Salt Lake City the workers stopped for a swim, but nobody seems to recall that. When you ask the young people about the experience, this is what they say:
Susan Horman: “When we left it looked really special. Flowers everywhere and trees … it was a good feeling.”
Steve Farr: “At first I didn’t think it would be so neat to just waste a day down there, but when we finally finished, it was really neat. It sure looked good.”
Karen Horman: “It was fun. I would gladly do another project like that. They were really happy we came, and they were really sorry when we had to leave.”
Sister Buehner evaluates: “Our young people felt very responsible. It was a real growing experience.”
The three boys who planned the whole project and directed its execution were most explicit.
Gary summed it all up this way: “It turned out pretty fun. I’d probably do it again. We knew that they needed the help.”
Ted declared: “The Goudys are some of my best friends. I’ve talked to them several times since. They said how great it was and how thankful they were. It was a testimony builder to work on something like that. It wasn’t just completing an Eagle project, but it was helping someone and feeling good about that.”
Bob reported: “I enjoyed it. I enjoy helping others. I guess that’s what it’s all about really, both Scouts and the Church. It was worth it. I know that much.”
“This was a spiritual experience for our young people,” Brother Benson declared. “In my estimation the only types of experiences that don’t get old are spiritual experiences. Our young people tasted of that at the Goudys, and they are anxious to have that renewed.”
But for the young people Bob summed it up best: “I’m just glad that we did it.”

“One day, I locked myself in a room so I wouldn’t be disturbed and got on my knees to pray. As I repented and explained my fears honestly and sincerely, I felt my mistakes being washed away. I knew that Heavenly Father and the Savior were there comforting me through what I was feeling. This experience has taught me that I need to focus on Them rather than on worldly things. I’ve learned that They will always be there for us, even during our toughest trials.”—Zoe Campbell, Aberdeen, Scotland

Like any self-respecting teenager in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I attended seminary for four consecutive years. This meant long hours of gospel learning in addition to Sunday and family study hours. It was sometimes a difficult and trying experience.
I began seminary in 2017 in our Pare Ward of the Arue Tahiti Stake. I was in 9th grade in school at the time, and I was eager to be part of this youth group.
During my first year, I woke up before 5 a.m. every weekday to get to seminary on time. I did my readings, and I was very attentive in class. I realized seminary contributed to deepening my relationship with God. Without Him, I would not have been able to successfully pass my school’s National Certificate Exam at the end of year 9.
Over the next two years, I gradually became lax in my duties, missing seminary or arriving late more often. I lost my desire to attend seminary, so I was less consistent in my efforts.
Accordingly, my 10th year in school was difficult, but I was unaware at the time of how this was related to my performance in seminary.
In year 11, I started going out with classmates who dabbled in things our Church doesn’t recommend, like alcohol and cigarettes. I even felt a little ashamed of not being like these friends and not hanging out more with them.
Consequently, my annual grades were low and if I had to take the bachelor exam that year, I doubt I would have passed.
Then, the COVID pandemic changed our daily lives, which I thank God for. When seminary classes started up on our smartphones, it was as if to counteract the evil that is also rampant on there.
Although I still had moments of weakness, I decided to hang in there and tried to sincerely follow the lessons of seminary, to benefit from God’s help in my studies.
I am grateful for my parents. Without them, I would have dropped out of seminary and followed the same path as my nonmember friends. As my favorite seminary teachers, they watched over me, making sure I stayed connected to God.
Then, healthy social relationships with the youth of the ward became my lifeline. Our activities together renewed me each time I was not in the mood. Among these friends was Corail Sommers, who never judged but always listened and encouraged and raised me up by her example.
In their own ways, they each contributed to my personal balance.
The discipline of daily immersion in the scriptures paid off in my last year of seminary, which was also my 12th and final year of school.
My seminary study habits allowed me to be better organized. While I’m not a fan of reading, I strove to read daily. It allowed me to maintain my relationship—even a fragile one—with Heavenly Father.
That year, I passed my bachelor diploma with honors. I got my driver’s license on my first try. I received my call to serve a mission in Paris. All in all, the hand of God was in my life the whole time I was in seminary and at school.
Looking back, I testify that God will always help because He loves us.
Seminary is exactly what we need as young people to help us to trust God and to let him prevail in our lives. He always trusted me.

Socially: I decided to manage my time so I would have more time for my loved ones and boost my mental health. Sometimes it is difficult to navigate all these activities while magnifying my calling, attending lectures, meeting up to make dresses and attending training meetings. But when Heavenly Father sees the sincere desires of our hearts and determination to learn, grow and develop, He gives us renewed strength and sends angels our way to lighten our load—just like He gave me a very beautiful and supportive family and a very reliable and dependable secretary.
Another skill that significantly contributed to my personal growth was time management. I try to plan my day, week, month, and year with my family and with my secretary to balance both my personal life and my calling. As I sharpened my ability to prioritize tasks and allocate time effectively, I found myself more organized and less stressed. This not only improved my academic performance but also allowed me to practice and sharpen my sewing skills and learn new styles and designs, visit more sisters, and feel the Saviour’s love whenever I minister to them. Balancing responsibilities and passions created a more fulfilling and well-rounded life for me.