Gospel Story Finder

I recently observed from a distance a couple who at one time had faith in Christ but then decided to discard their belief. They were successful in the world, and they found pleasure in their intellect and the rejection of their faith.

All seemed well until the husband, still young and energetic, suddenly fell ill and died. Like an eclipse of the sun, they had blocked the light of the Son, and the result was an eclipse of hope. The wife, in her disbelief, now felt disoriented, painfully unprepared, unable to comfort her children. Her intellect had told her that her life was in perfect order until suddenly she could see no tomorrow. Her despair brought darkness and confusion.

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.

Books and papers fell to the floor when Becky bumped into Sister Chapman in the hall. “Oh my,” Sister Chapman said as she picked up her books. Lauren quickly helped Becky gather the papers. “Thanks,” Sister Chapman said with a smile. The girls smiled back. Lauren liked her new Valiant teacher.
When they got to class, Meagan was there. “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Sister Chapman told her. Then she turned to Lauren. “Since Meagan missed last week’s lesson,” she said, “can you retell the story of the good Samaritan?”
Lauren noticed that everyone was waiting for her to answer.
“Let me tell the story,” Becky begged. “We’ll be here all day if we wait for Lauren.”
Lauren looked down as Sister Chapman said, “Becky, I think you owe Lauren an apology.”
“Sorry,” Becky muttered.
Lauren felt better when Sister Chapman started to tell the story. Her voice soothed Lauren, and the story brought tears to her eyes. Some of her tears were for the poor man lying in the road; the rest were for herself. Why can’t I remember the scripture stories? she wondered.
“Today in opening exercises, we sang ‘Search, Ponder, and Pray,’” Sister Chapman continued. “Did you notice that we were singing about having a testimony of the scriptures? Think to yourselves: Do I have a testimony? Do I know the scriptures are true?”
Caught in the moment, Lauren nodded her head.
“Lauren, how could you have a testimony?” Becky scoffed. “You can’t even remember last week’s lesson! You have to know the scriptures to have a testimony.”
“Our testimonies are very personal, Becky,” Sister Chapman gently corrected her. “We can’t say someone else does or doesn’t have a testimony. But we can know if we have one personally.”
At the end of class, Sister Chapman handed out the next week’s scripture reading assignment and asked, “Is there anything else anyone wants to talk about?”
Meagan raised her hand. “I want to thank my Valiant Secret Pal—the cookies were great!”
“You, too?” asked Sister Chapman. “When I was sick this week, someone left cookies and a card on my doorstep. It was signed ‘Your Valiant Secret Pal.’ I wonder who it is …” Sister Chapman looked around the room. “Well,” she added, “whoever it is understood last week’s lesson. Jesus Christ taught us to help the sick. Someone was really listening and put into action what he or she had learned. I’d say we have a good Samaritan right here in our Valiant class.”
That night for scripture study, Lauren’s dad read from the New Testament. Excitedly Lauren exclaimed, “We talked about this story in Primary!”
“Super!” Dad said. “Why don’t you share it with us?”
Lauren felt the same uneasiness she’d felt that morning. She thought hard and then shook her head, “I can’t.” Her parents looked at each other, and then Dad continued to read about the good Samaritan.
Later, when Mom sat on the edge of Lauren’s bed to kiss her good night, she found Lauren crying. “What’s wrong?” Mom asked.
“Why can’t I remember that story? Sometimes I feel so dumb.” Lauren told her what had happened in Primary. “Becky’s right,” Lauren said, “I don’t know the scriptures.”
Lauren’s mom hugged her. “Lauren, you are not dumb. You’re a bright young girl. You understand what the stories are about, but you learn them a bit differently than some people, and remembering the details takes you a little longer—that’s all.”
The teachers in Lauren’s class at school always told her the same thing. She had heard it over and over, but it still didn’t help.
The next Sunday, Sister Chapman didn’t ask Lauren to answer any questions, and Lauren didn’t raise her hand. Becky answered almost every question—correctly. I wish I could be like Becky, Lauren thought.
As class was dismissed, all the girls left in a hurry except Lauren, who stayed and helped Sister Chapman erase the chalkboard and put away the chairs. “Thank you, Lauren,” her teacher said. “I can always count on you to help.”
“I liked the lesson,” Lauren replied. “You are a good teacher.” Lauren noticed a bright smile on Sister Chapman’s face.
Later that week, Lauren opened the front door and found a letter and a small package on the porch. They were from Sister Chapman. Lauren quickly opened the letter and read it:
“Dear Lauren,
“I want to tell you how much I enjoy having you in class. I’ve noticed that you feel uncomfortable answering questions, so I didn’t call on you last Sunday. Lauren, you do know the scripture stories. I’ve seen you live them.
“I have a feeling you were Meagan’s—and my—Valiant Secret Pal. You helped the sick. Do you remember helping Becky pick up my papers? You helped someone in need. Every time you thank me for a nice lesson, you help me become a better teacher.
“Lauren, you understand more about the good Samaritan than you think. For some people it’s easy to remember the scriptures word for word, and that is a wonderful gift. But the hardest part is to live the principles the scriptures teach.
“Thanks for being a good Samaritan in our class. Enjoy the gift. It reminds me of you.
“With love,“Sister Chapman”
Lauren unfolded the tissue paper and found a bookmark that read, “The Good Samaritan.” Lauren read the words over and over—they sounded good to her. Walking back inside the house, she sang, “‘I’ll know the scriptures are true’” (Children’s Songbook, 109).

Sam Basnet, baptized in 2009, is also the only member in his family. Doing missionary work at the Oslo center helped him to share the gospel with his relatives when he returned to visit them in Nepal. He told them about the priesthood and the Book of Mormon, having already helped the missionaries teach other people the same principles in Oslo.
“My family wanted to feel the way that I was feeling,” said Brother Basnet. “They had seen the difference between ‘Sam-before’ and ‘Sam-after.’ Before, I had no hope. I was not positive. After my baptism, I used to come into the center and everything was higher than before.”

When we started having church at home because of the COVID-19 pandemic, I helped give the sacrament to my family. It was nice to be able to do this in my own home, and it made me realize how grateful I am for the sacrament. I am grateful that I was able to live through this time of having church at home.
One of our neighbors needed someone to bring the sacrament to her. There wasn’t anyone in her home who could prepare or bless the sacrament because her husband had passed away a few years ago. She was also being careful with visitors because of the pandemic. My dad and I are her ministering brothers, so we offered to give her the sacrament while wearing masks and taking other precautions for her safety.
She was super grateful that we could come over. It made me feel a little sad that she was lonely, since she was the only one at her house during the pandemic. But I was also grateful that I could offer her something so important to make her happy. It was nice to be able to serve her. It made me happy that my dad and I were able to go and serve our neighbor.
I’m grateful to have the priesthood because it benefits not only me but also other people. It helps me become a better person and helps me see how I can serve others. Passing the sacrament in my home and to my neighbor opened my eyes. I need to take advantage of the opportunity to pass the sacrament and serve people who can’t do it for themselves. I’m grateful I could use the priesthood to bless other people and my family.

After Sister Teh and I dated for a little while, it became obvious that I wanted to spend eternity with her. Naturally, I made it a subject of earnest prayer and fasting. No particular change in my feeling followed. I did not feel a burning in my bosom. I did, however, continue to feel good about my decision, so I persevered. Sister Teh got the same answer, so here we are. Since that experience, I have arrived at many of my decisions in a similar fashion (see D&C 6:22–23).

After my mission to Taiwan, I thought international law would be a good career choice. As Christy and I considered that possible future, we understood that five more years of expensive education lay ahead.

The U.S. economy was in a deep recession and our funds were limited, so we reasoned that joining the Air Force ROTC would be a wise choice to pay for my schooling. But as I took the required tests and filled out the paperwork, we just could not get comfortable making that commitment. No stupor of thought or dark feelings came—only an absence of peace.

That seemingly illogical financial decision was inspired, in part, because I would have been a horrible lawyer!

When Alex’s father, René, thinks back on the 13 years he spent outside the Church, he laments what he missed.
“Those years were very difficult,” he says. “Sometimes I couldn’t help but think about the time I was losing by not enjoying the marvelous life the gospel offers.”
The Escobar family had joined the Church in Córdoba when Alex was a child. They stayed active until moving back to their native country of Bolivia shortly after Alex’s baptism. While in Bolivia, they forgot “what the gospel means to our lives,” René says.
When they returned to Córdoba two years later, Alex’s mother, Carmen, occasionally attended church with the couple’s four children. But René, an avid football player, spent Sundays sleeping off Saturday’s games and associated activities—activities that often meant breaking the Word of Wisdom.
“I was the hardheaded one,” he says. “At times I thought I was completely lost, which we think when we no longer have the companionship of the Spirit.”
What finally turned René around was the realization that his example was hurting his children. “My sons were like orphans who attended church by themselves because their father was not active,” he recalls.
“I began to examine my life and the effect my example was having on my children,” says René, who is grateful that the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ allowed him to repent. “I realized I wasn’t living up to my responsibilities as a father. All these things helped me remember the Lord, get on my knees, and ask Him to help me return.”
As René’s faithfulness and testimony grew, a series of callings followed. Several years after reembracing the gospel, he received an impression that the Lord had prepared him for an important new calling.
“The result is that my father is my bishop,” Alex said.
While Alex served in the Argentina Resistencia Mission, everyone missed him, but they were grateful he was sharing his example with others. And they’re grateful for having been sealed in the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple in 2009.
Bishop Escobar is happy that Alex is the first missionary he sent into the mission field after being called as bishop. “It’s exciting to have a son serve,” he says. “We all missed Alex, but I’m the one who missed him the most. He is the one who supported me.”

Service has been a part of gospel teachings from the very beginning. From Adam to the present, we have been encouraged to serve our fellowmen. I had the privilege of witnessing a real fulfillment of Paul’s counsel to the Galatians when he instructed them, “by love serve one another.”
When our family was living in Massachusetts, we had our home in the little country town of Weston, about 13 miles west of Boston. It was a very quaint, sophisticated community with a population then of about 11,000 people. Weston had many picturesque, winding country roads lined with hand-fashioned rock walls. The small business section was completely deserted by 9:00 P.M. each evening. Yet for all its quaintness, Weston had its problems, especially with many of the high school and junior high students who used drugs and brought liquor into the dry town.
However, I would like to tell you about one Weston High School student who was too busily engaged in other pursuits to become involved with drugs or alcohol. This young man spent a lot of time on the ski slopes. Being an avid skier in New England is not unusual, but what this boy did with his talent is unusual. He was an expert skier and loved the sport. In fact, he was an instructor and spent even his spare time teaching others to ski. You could regularly see him coming down the mountainside very close to one of his pupils, who was oftentimes years older than he. They would start slowly but gather speed as they made graceful turns down the slope, all the time carrying on a conversation, laughing, enjoying the invigorating air and the sparkling sunshine. Observers would take note and follow the pair with their eyes until they reached the bottom, regarding them as just two more skiers having a great time.
What the onlookers did not realize was that one of the skiers was blind. This young Weston High School student was teaching the blind to ski. He did it free of charge. When he first had the idea, he discussed it with others and was advised by all to forget it. He was told over and over that it would simply be impossible.
But this young man had witnessed the hopelessness of some of the blind people and wanted to share with them one of the pleasures of his life. He wanted them to have a feeling of accomplishment and success. He wished to give them a new dimension to their lives. He wanted them to feel that they were real, whole individuals. He really cared. He cared enough to devote the time necessary to develop a rapport of love, encouragement, and understanding with these people to help them build faith in themselves and in their own abilities. Gradually mutual friendships blossomed.
These blind people placed their trust in this young man. He was their friend. He was the only one they would permit to put on their boots and snap them into their bindings. In their training, he said that helping them develop an attitude of trust and faith in themselves was the important thing. After that, the technique would come easily.
The last I heard, he had been successful in teaching 13 blind people to ski and was in the process of teaching more. He had even been requested to write a manual on teaching the blind to ski. He possessed then, and I am sure he still does, the confidence which comes with success. But more importantly, he has developed lasting friendships and has learned how to love and share through worthwhile service.
It is an eternal truth that the greatest satisfaction we find in this life is not that which is done for self but that which is given for the benefit of another. As this young man from Weston found fulfillment in his service to the blind, so each of us can find the rewarding satisfaction which comes when we “by love serve one another.”

Despite all these blessings, I still faced challenges.
Working as a live-in nanny didn’t go as smoothly as I was expecting. My host family didn’t keep up their end of our contract, and I ended up deciding to search for a new job and place to live.
There were many nights when I didn’t know where I would go. The search seemed endless, and tension with my host family made me question everything.
I knew that the first step was to pray to Heavenly Father about my situation. As Elder Clement M. Matswagothata, Area Seventy, taught: “Be prayerful as you look for ways to become self-reliant. I assure you that Heavenly Father will bring thoughts into your mind and will bless you.”
Every night, I turned to Heavenly Father in prayer, asking not only for a way out but for strength to act on promptings. I knew that “faith without works is dead” (James 2:26).
When I shared my situation with friends in the ward, a sister offered me a part-time job, helping me save extra money to support myself. I was so grateful that I’d connected with my ward and could rely on them during this difficult time.
Eventually, I found a new host family in Utah. After much prayer, I felt strongly that this was where I needed to be. I moved again, finding a YSA ward where I could continue to serve and grow.

Cannon stared glumly out his bedroom window.
Rain! He could hardly believe it. Today was Saturday, the day his baseball team, the Angels, was supposed to compete in the final championship game. They had worked very hard to qualify for the championship. In addition to practicing with his team, Cannon had practiced pitching with his dad for an hour each evening after school and for two hours on Saturday. He had pitched several no-hit innings this season, becoming the team’s star pitcher.
Cannon looked at his shelf. Every player in the league received a small silver trophy at the end of the season for being part of a team, and three already lined his shelf. “I should be placing my new gold championship trophy on that shelf today,” Cannon thought, frowning.
He was disappointed that the game he had been looking forward to all season had to be put off, but it got worse. Cannon’s coach had called and said that the final game was rescheduled for the following Sunday.
“I’m sorry, Coach,” Cannon said in almost a whisper. “I can’t play in a game on Sunday.”
“You have to,” his coach replied. “Sunday is the only day we could get the field and the umpires. I’m sure you can get out of whatever you have scheduled next Sunday. You have eight days! Besides,” he continued, “you have worked so hard for that gold trophy, and you deserve it. You are our best pitcher, and if we want a shot at beating the Astros we need you on the mound. Your teammates have also worked hard to get to this point. I know you won’t want to let them down.”
“I am sorry, Coach,” Cannon repeated. “Sunday is a special day to me. I don’t play baseball on Sundays.”
“I know you’re a Mormon and that you don’t usually play on Sundays,” the coach said, “but a championship isn’t just any game. Tony goes to your church too. His family has made an exception for him to play. I’m sure that if you talk it over with your parents, they’ll understand how hard you have worked this season and how much our team needs you.”
The conversation played over and over in Cannon’s mind. Why did it have to rain today of all days? It was so unfair!
Cannon heard a light tap on his door, and Dad and Mom came in. “We are so proud of you for remembering the importance of the Sabbath,” Dad said, patting Cannon’s arm. “Your coach just called me. He explained that your game is set for Sunday, and that you told him you would not be playing in it. He also told me that Tony will play. This is a very hard situation, isn’t it?”
Tears filled Cannon’s eyes, but he tried to hold them in.
“We know how hard you have practiced this season,” Mom added. “Your coach may be right when he says your team won’t win this game without you. Do you want to pray about whether you should play on Sunday just this once?”
“I don’t need to pray about this, Mom,” Cannon said. “I already know that Heavenly Father wants me to keep the Sabbath day holy.”
Mom and Dad gave Cannon a hug, but he didn’t feel much better.
The week leading to the final game passed very slowly. Cannon’s teammates, including Tony, tried to convince him to change his mind. They didn’t seem to understand that winning the championship was something he wanted as much as they did. He could only hope that his team would win without him.
On Sunday when Cannon got home from church, there was a message on the answering machine from his coach. The Angels had lost the game by four runs. There would be no gold trophies for their team. “If Tony hadn’t been here,” his coach said, “we would have lost by at least six runs. I guess it comes down to who is willing to make a commitment and who isn’t.”
Cannon thought about his coach’s message. The coach was right—winning did come down to who was willing to make a commitment. For the first time in days, Cannon felt happy.
He smiled as words from his favorite Primary song came to his mind: “I’ll stand for truth. I’ll stand for right. The Lord can depend on me.”* As much as Cannon would have liked adding a gold trophy to his shelf, he knew he had won something much more important. He had made a commitment to keep the Sabbath day holy, and he had stayed true to that commitment.

Remember, it isn’t sufficient to assume that when you teach, the boy is listening to what you say. Let me illustrate:
In what we call the west boardroom of the Church Administration Building, there hangs a lovely painting rendered by the artist Harry Anderson. The painting depicts Jesus sitting on a small stone wall with numerous children gathered around, knowing they are the object of His love. Each time I gaze at that painting, I think of the passage of scripture, “Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.”
On one occasion I had given a priesthood blessing in that room to a small lad who was soon to undergo major surgery. I directed his attention and that of his parents to the painting of Jesus and the children. I then made a few remarks concerning the Savior and His never-failing love. I asked the boy if he had any questions. “Yes,” he replied seriously. “Brother Monson, how does a boy go about getting a little goat and a leash for it like that one in the painting?”
For a moment I was stunned by the unanticipated question, a little deflated concerning my teaching ability, but then I responded: “Jesus gives to you and me gifts far more important than a goat on a leash. He provides a road map to heaven. His teachings, His example, His love are far greater gifts than that offered by the world.”
“Come, follow me,” He invited. And we are wise when we follow Him!

It wasn’t until I had children of my own that my mother shared with me her conversion story. She grew up shortly after the Great Depression. When she was young, her parents could not provide food for their children, and they were sent to live with friends and relatives.
My mother, then Dorothy Smith, was sent to live with a family in Pennsylvania. But she didn’t have any shoes. Eventually her parents sent her a pair of shoes, but they were too big. The father of the family told her to sit on the dock of the nearby river and soak her shoes so they would shrink. The name of that river was the Susquehanna River, the same one in which Joseph Smith was baptized.
She did as she was told, but the river was rain swollen and swift. No sooner had she put her feet in the water than the powerful current ripped the new shoes off of her feet and they were gone, sinking out of sight into the muddy water. To her and the family, it was a tragedy. She again had no shoes.
Years later when she was a young mother living in southern California, Dorothy and some neighbor ladies were taking missionary lessons. While walking home one of the ladies said, “How do we know if any of this stuff is true? How do we know if Joseph Smith really saw God or even if there was a Susquehanna River?”
My mother piped up at that moment and said, “I know that there is a Susquehanna River, because I lost my shoes in the Susquehanna River.” The moment she said those words, the Spirit bore witness to her that all the rest of what the missionaries had said was also true.
My family was later baptized when I was about eight. After my mother passed away, it slowly occurred to me what the impact was of her losing her shoes in the Susquehanna River. All of her other family members eventually joined the Church. Many of my relatives and I went on missions and baptized many people, which in turn led to others going on missions and baptizing even more people. Many of my relatives and I have served as ward mission leaders multiple times in our respective wards. All in all, I estimate that about 2,000 people have been led to the gospel of Jesus Christ because my mother lost her shoes in the Susquehanna River. It is a marvel to me that a series of tragedies such as the Great Depression, which led to a family being separated and then my mother losing her only pair of shoes, would lead to such a marvelous blessing in the lives of so many.

Marvin the Moose lived in the forest. Every morning when Marvin awoke, he would run down to his favorite pond for a nice breakfast of green moss. Green moss was Marvin’s favorite food. This was a good way to begin the day, because all Marvin’s friends came to eat their breakfast with him.
Mother Beaver and all her little beavers would be finishing their breakfast of tender bark by the time Marvin came by. “Good morning, Marvin,” Mother Beaver would say. “Good morning, Mr. Moose,” all the little beavers would say.
Bennie Bear was usually picking berries on the hillside nearby. He would stand up on his hind legs and call, “Marvin, I saved some berries for you.”
Perry Pelican was a good friend. After flying high above the pond, he would tell Marvin where the best moss was growing.
Then there was his friend Oliver Otter. He was always playing tricks when Marvin was trying to eat his breakfast. Oliver would swim right up and splash water all over Marvin’s face. “Wake up,” Oliver would laugh.
One morning as Marvin hurried down to his favorite eating place, he was surprised to see that none of his friends were around. But he shrugged his big shoulders and put his nose into the water for some moss. “Oh, no!” he cried. “There’s no moss!” It was true—there was no moss in the pond for Marvin.
Soon Oliver Otter came scurrying through the marsh. Marvin asked him if he knew what had happened to the moss. “I can’t talk now, Marvin, I have to hurry over to Mother Beaver’s house,” answered Oliver, and away he ran.
Was that some moss hanging out of Oliver’s pocket? Marvin wondered.
Just then Perry Pelican flew over Marvin’s head. Marvin couldn’t believe his eyes. Perry Pelican’s pouch seemed stuffed with Marvin’s moss.
Before Marvin could call out to Perry, Bennie Bear bumped into Marvin. Marvin noticed that Bennie’s arms were loaded with fresh moss.
“Aha!” Marvin exclaimed. “What are you doing with my moss?” Bennie Bear was so surprised that he hugged the moss tighter and ran off as fast as he could go.
Marvin was confused. “I’m tired of everyone ignoring me and then running off with my moss,” he grumbled. “I’m going to follow Bennie Bear and see what’s going on.”
Soon Bennie Bear ran into Mother Beaver’s house and slammed the door behind him. As Marvin came near the house, he could smell fresh moss cakes baking. And Marvin just loved fresh moss cakes! He knocked on the door. When it opened, he saw all his forest friends sitting around the breakfast table. As Marvin stepped into the room, they began to sing, “Happy birthday to you.”
Marvin had completely forgotten that it was his birthday. But Mother Beaver and his other friends had remembered. They had gathered the fresh moss, and Mother Beaver had baked fresh moss cakes as a birthday surprise for their friend Marvin!

For me, that’s my dad. He has a December birthday. He passed away just after Christmas nearly 18 years ago.
My dad always had a job that required travel.
He traveled by airplane at a time before headphones or earbuds. There was no screen in the back of the seat in front of him. No online entertainment. No mobile phone, tablet, or laptop computer.
Back then, to pass the time while you traveled, you had three choices: sleeping; reading a book, magazine, or newspaper; or talking to the person sitting next to you.
My dad always chose the third.
He came home from every trip with a story about his seatmate. His or her life story!
I don’t know how much my dad gave up about himself. But he had an uncanny ability, a listener’s gift. People felt comfortable with him. Comfortable enough to share their personal stories—heartaches and triumphs and everything in between.
And because my dad was ever an optimist, a true disciple of Jesus Christ, I know people left their flights known, heard, loved, happy, and a little more optimistic than when they boarded.

Not that long ago, while Melinda was attending Samoa College before she transferred to the Church College, she barely knew Justina. “I knew her from church, but she wasn’t one of my really good friends. Back then I didn’t go to seminary that often, and I didn’t understand the importance of the gospel. My parents aren’t members, and I wasn’t really strong at church,” Melinda says. “Tina’s really helped me with church. She’s been a good influence for me. She’s a really good friend.”
Justina adds, “Yeah, we do practically everything together. It’s nice to have someone who has the same standards as you. We have a lot in common.”

As his traveling companion in the mission field, I received instructions from him to keep my briefcase packed with a couple of clean shirts, clean socks, and clean underwear. Then he said, “When I say, ‘We’re going,’ you grab your bag, beat me to the car, and don’t ask any questions.” When that would happen, I would grab my bag and go to the car. Being a young, eager missionary, I would wonder, “Where are we going now?” But I didn’t ask.

Once, after we had driven a few miles, he asked, “Would you like to know where we’re going?” I said, “Yes.” Then he said, “So would I! I’m not sure just where we’re going, but we’ll keep going. And when the Lord tells us to turn, we’ll turn, and we’ll end up where he wants us to be.”

The Maori people used to pray for President Cowley to come to them. One day he drove up to the front of a post office in a rather distant city in New Zealand. There were two sisters standing by the post office waiting. When he got out of the car, one said to the other, “See, I told you he would be here soon.” President Cowley said, “Hey, what’s going on here?” One of the sisters said, “We needed you and we’ve been praying. We knew you would be coming, and you always go directly to the post office, so we decided to wait here until you arrived.” It was just that simple. People would tell the Lord what they wanted, and somehow or other President Cowley was led by the Spirit to go where they were. Now, he wasn’t totally disorganized, but I have never known anyone who planned less and accomplished more, simply by doing the things he felt impressed to do.

Standing as a witness of truth takes on new meaning when everything at your high school is connected to religion—a religion other than your own. Not only does it mean being an example of how Latter-day Saints believe and act, but it also means respecting the beliefs of others and rejoicing in the truths you share.
For Lara Wolford, 18, Cameron Cabe, 18, and his younger sister, Jenna Cabe, 16, standing up for the truth they know is part of daily life. They attend Lehman High School in Sidney, Ohio, where the curriculum is Catholic, as are most of the students and faculty. Lara, Cameron, and Jenna, who are members of the Sidney Ward, Dayton Ohio East Stake, join their fellow students for weekly mass (worship services) and daily religion classes where the Bible is the textbook.
While being “different” has its difficulties, at a school where religion is a major focus, these teens have learned that having all eyes on you is a great way to teach by example.
“A lot of my friends and some of my teachers have told me that they respect how I stand up for what I believe in,” says Lara. “They know how I live and that I won’t lower my standards.”
That attention can sometimes lead to interesting opportunities to share the gospel. “I have one friend in particular who asks a lot of questions about the Church, so I gave him a Book of Mormon and a Finding Faith in Christ video for Christmas,” says Lara. But it didn’t end there. “When my other friends found out about that, they all wanted one!” Lara happily provided copies of the Book of Mormon to anyone who asked.
“They kept them in their lockers or book bags, and would pull them out and read them if they had some free time. One friend pulled his out in religion class one day to answer a question about Mormons.”
Cameron and Jenna’s mother, Darla, witnessed the result of Lara’s missionary work. She says, “One day I walked in the front door of the school to pick up Cameron from an after-school activity. Three non-LDS students who were waiting in the lobby for their rides were sitting there reading the Book of Mormon! When I asked them about it, they said that they had some questions and had decided to read it for themselves.”
Cameron used another student’s question about his beliefs as an opportunity to gain a sure testimony for himself. In his freshman year someone asked how he could believe that Joseph Smith really saw what he claimed to have seen. Cameron studied the history of the Church and began reading the scriptures every night. He explains what happened a little while later when that student asked him the same question again:
“He said, ‘Don’t you think that’s silly that something like that happened so close to the present time?’ And I said, ‘No, I don’t think it’s silly. I think it’s great.’ Later on, he told me that he ended up having more respect for me and other LDS students because of that.”
Lara has also had frequent opportunities to bear her testimony as she explains her beliefs to friends. “I share my testimony a lot, because when I am answering questions about why we do this or why we believe this, my testimony just comes out. It’s the best way to answer!”
Besides bearing her testimony, Jenna likes to be prepared. “I always have a copy of the Book of Mormon, a For the Strength of Youth pamphlet, and a copy of the Articles of Faith in my backpack so that if anyone ever asks questions, I can show it to them.”
Lara, Cameron, and Jenna have had many opportunities to share what they know, but attending a Catholic high school has also given them the chance to learn more about the beliefs of others.
Since Lara also attended a Catholic elementary school, she and her classmates have had plenty of time to get to know one another’s beliefs. “Over the 11 years that I’ve gone to Catholic school, there has always been a mutual respect between me and my classmates. We enjoy our similarities and respect our differences. I think the greatest form of respect is showing a sincere love for each other.”
Cameron, Lara, and Jenna try to show respect for their classmates’ religion by praying when they do at mealtime and by joining them in prayer before classes. They have also participated in Catholic mass as part of the school’s choir and orchestra. Jenna says of the weekly mass held each Friday at the school, “We don’t say the [Catholic] prayers with them, but we respect them. We stand when they stand and are reverent.”
And their classmates have returned the favor. Lara says, “They have prayed for my family during their school masses. When my brother was on his mission, they prayed for him that he would have a successful mission.”
While some of their beliefs are different, Cameron, Lara, and Jenna have appreciated seeing the truth observed by other faithful people and in the process have learned more about their own religion.
Cameron says answering difficult questions about the Church has made him pay more attention in seminary so that he has answers ready. “It makes me ask a lot of questions so that I understand it. It’s a learning experience for me, also.”
Seeing his friend’s reactions when he tells them he’s a priest has also made him appreciate the priesthood he holds. “They think it’s interesting that someone my age can be a priest,” he says. “It’s more of a responsibility, but it’s good because it makes me want to be on my best behavior even more.”
For the LDS students at Lehman High School, sharing the gospel and respecting their friends of other religions go hand in hand. Lara says, “I have a strong respect for anyone who lives their religion, and it gives me an opportunity to see what my friends believe and an opportunity to share what I believe.”
While attending a parochial (private religious) high school is a unique experience, Lara believes that when it comes to standing for truth, what really matters is inside your heart, not your high school.
“It doesn’t matter whether you go to parochial or public school,” she says. “It is easy to be LDS in high school anywhere if you have your own testimony.”
Editor’s note: Cameron Cabe is now serving as a full-time missionary in the Utah Ogden Mission.

For me, the question “How does putting Jesus Christ first help with temple and family history work?” was at the heart of the March 2023 Temple and Family History Leadership Instruction. Before I watched the broadcast, I expected to learn more about how to implement family history plans in wards and stakes. Instead, I was inspired to change my focus from the tasks of family history to the power of covenant connection with our Savior.
Jesus invited us:
“Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; … and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
“For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:29–30).
Rest. Lighter burdens. Who doesn’t want more of that? I have loved this scripture for many years. I’ve pondered it, taught it, and rejoiced in it.
But Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles helped me see this verse in a new light: “As we take upon us the yoke of Christ by exercising our moral agency to understand the covenants, accept them, and to receive the ordinances, we are yoked with Him. Two animals yoked together pull in unison.”1
What a powerful concept. We become yoked to Jesus Christ when we make covenants with Him and with our Heavenly Father. Our covenants give us access to power that gives us rest, relieves our burdens, and gives us daily strength.
President Russell M. Nelson taught: “Each person who makes covenants in baptismal fonts and in temples—and keeps them—has increased access to the power of Jesus Christ. … The Savior lifts us above the pull of this fallen world.”2
Sometimes we don’t focus as much on Jesus Christ as we do on the day-to-day tasks of building the kingdom of God. We know He is there. We love Him. We want to serve Him. But He is not always at the forefront of our thoughts. This minimizes the help and strength we can receive through our covenants. As Elder Bednar said, too many people “believe sincerely and serve dutifully, but their covenant connection with the Father and His redeeming Son has not yet become a living and transforming reality in their lives.”3
In the leadership instruction broadcast, Elder Bednar taught the importance of putting Jesus Christ first in the sequence of our efforts. For example, rather than focus on preparing young men and young women to serve a mission and then receive their temple covenants, we need to focus on strengthening their testimonies of Jesus Christ, which then leads them to their temple covenants. The principle of intentionally putting Jesus Christ first applies in everything we do, including family history research.
Keeping Jesus Christ at the forefront doesn’t just happen. It takes effort. President Nelson taught: “Our focus must be riveted on the Savior and His gospel. It is mentally rigorous to strive to look unto Him in every thought.”4
Drawing of Syracuse Utah Temple by Jeremy Beck
So back to my original question: How does putting Jesus Christ first help with temple and family history work?
Changing our focus helps change our approach in gathering our family members from the other side of the veil. Our burdens are eased because we are not pulling alone. We have more purpose, resilience, and joy in our family history service.
As we make Jesus Christ our first focus in this work, we are filled with the fruit of His love, and we want to share His love with our families. We become like Father Lehi, who was desirous to share the great joy he found with his family (see 1 Nephi 8:12). Elder Gerrit W. Gong of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said: “We can come to our Savior by covenant. As we come to Him by covenant, we naturally come to those we hold most dear and precious in our lives.”5
At the same time, as we search for and learn about our families, a change happens to us. “Almost every time people begin to think about, search out, talk about, document their ancestors, they begin to feel something,” said Elder Kevin S. Hamilton of the Seventy. “They begin to have these spiritual feelings and experiences.”6 This is often referred to as the spirit of Elijah, which is, as President Nelson has taught, “a manifestation of the Holy Ghost bearing witness of the divine nature of the family.”7
I witnessed this union of generations one time when I was helping a woman in my ward. Her parents had been divorced when she was young, and she knew very little about her father’s side of her family. We found basic records that identified her father’s parents and grandparents. She had never known their names. She was overcome with love and joy. The Spirit of the Lord filled her heart, and she was eager to take their names to the temple so they too could make sacred covenants with God.
When I take family names to the temple, my joy and spirituality are heightened because those family members are connected to me. When I perform their proxy ordinances, they are being connected not only to me but to God as well. With this connection, they too can enjoy the power of their covenants.
I will always remember one time when I performed the sealing for an ancestor. She had lived a difficult life, including the death of her first husband, the death of a toddler, and bankruptcy. During the sealing, the veil was thin, and the joy she felt while receiving her covenants was palpable. The Spirit filled my heart and the hearts of everyone in the room. It drew me closer to my Savior and gave me a surer witness of Heavenly Father’s plan of salvation and the eternal nature of families.
All of us can feel a deeper connection to both Jesus Christ and our families through connecting our families to their covenants. This has never been easier than it is now with the use of a FamilySearch feature called Ordinances Ready (see page U14 in this section). With this technology, we can find a family name even as we walk across the temple parking lot on our way into the temple.
Elder Gong taught, “Covenant belonging with God and each other includes knowing … [that] our most precious relationships can continue beyond death with a fulness of joy.”8 When we put Jesus Christ first in this sacred work, we will draw more upon our covenant relationship with Him and find immense joy and peace in His temple as we open the way for our family members to enjoy the blessings of these covenants.
Call for Experiences
What blessings have you felt through temple and family history work? Elder Dale G. Renlund of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles promised blessings such as these:
“Increased understanding of the Savior and His atoning sacrifice;
“Increased influence of the Holy Ghost to feel strength and direction for our own lives;
“Increased faith, so that conversion to the Savior becomes deep and abiding;
“Increased ability and motivation to learn and repent because of an understanding of who we are, where we come from, and a clearer vision of where we are going;
“Increased refining, sanctifying, and moderating influences in our hearts;
“Increased joy through an increased ability to feel the love of the Lord;
“Increased family blessings, no matter our current, past, or future family situation or how imperfect our family tree may be;
“Increased love and appreciation for ancestors and living relatives, so we no longer feel alone;
“Increased power to discern that which needs healing and thus, with the Lord’s help, serve others;
“Increased protection from temptations and the intensifying influence of the adversary; and
“Increased assistance to mend troubled, broken, or anxious hearts and make the wounded whole” (“Family History and Temple Work: Sealing and Healing,” Liahona, May 2018, 47).
Have you experienced one or more of these? Share your thoughts by emailing liahona@ChurchofJesusChrist.org.

I am grateful for the opportunity to be here with Valérie, my eternal companion. I would like to share with you a little bit of our love story!
We met 39 years ago in a young single adult ward in Paris, France. At the time, I was fully immersed in my studies. I don’t quite know how to best describe myself . . . Let’s just say that I was not the most social person in the world. I was kind of a nerd who spent most of my time in books. I was also serving as the ward clerk, which consumed a large portion of my free time as I sat in a meetinghouse office behind closed doors.
I believe our bishop’s daughter had a gift. It seemed she could see through the meetinghouse walls to find me in the clerk’s office. Often, the door would open and this pretty girl, flashing a big smile, would sneak her head in the door to say hello and try to catch my attention (which wasn’t hard to do).
To make a long story short, we started dating and were married in the temple two years later. Sometime after our marriage, I asked Valérie how she could have possibly fallen in love with such an unattractive man. She did not deny my self-description, and simply answered, “I saw your potential!”
As I think about this story, I think of a beautiful painting entitled La Clairvoyance. The painter, René Magritte, is represented in the process of painting an egg, which lies to his left on a tablecloth of red velvet. But his paintbrush, animated with a wonderful vision of the future, translates this image into a beautiful blue bird with its wings spread wide.
In 1984, when Valérie and I met in that young single adult ward in Paris, despite my inadequacies she quickly recognized what we could become: a successful family in this life and an eternal family in the world to come. She saw into our future and acted in faith. Thank you, mon amour, for believing in us and in our family’s eternal potential!