Gospel Story Finder

The Spaniards’ attitude was reinforced when Simón was sent to Spain for further education. By this time he was a slim young man with a thin, suntanned face and dark piercing eyes. He was a better athlete and horseman than any of his admiring friends who benefitted from the almost limitless supply of money Simón provided for their pleasures.
One day while riding his horse, Simón was stopped by the police, searched, insulted, and told that he was no longer welcome in Spain. He was furious at the incident, for it pointed out more clearly than any of his tutor’s words the low regard that the Spanish rulers had for Creoles. Then began his dream to free all of South America from Spanish rule and make it one glorious republic much like the United States of America. Although this dream was not realized, Simón Bolívar is now often called “the George Washington of South America.”

Visiting the African continent brought back memories of my earlier assignments to East and West Africa. I thought once again of the special fast by Church members worldwide in 1985. It provided approximately six million dollars to relieve suffering and hunger primarily in drought-stricken Ethiopia. Brother Glenn L. Pace and I witnessed firsthand the fruits of generous contributions by Church members when the First Presidency assigned us to go to Africa, assess the needs of the people, and recommend how to make the best use of these special funds.
We visited refugee camps in that arid country. The land was as barren as any I had ever seen. We visited Red Cross centers and field hospitals where the desperately ill were being cared for. Such dreadful, pitiful suffering broke our hearts. We saw sick mothers lying on cots trying to feed and comfort their children, many of whom had the sunken eyes and pencil-thin arms and legs of those in the advanced stages of starvation. This was one of the most heart-wrenching experiences of my life. I had never seen anything that touched my heart so deeply as the anxious yearning for food and nourishment that I saw there.
Brothers and sisters, even as people in Ethiopia were starving physically because of the lack of food, far too many people in the world are starving spiritually. Sadly, most of them have no idea where to find real spiritual nourishment. They wander to and fro—another form of pathetic refugees. Those who yearn for true spiritual light and knowledge can only find it through the power of the Holy Ghost. The Spirit enlightens and gives understanding of the eternal purposes of life. By the Spirit, Church members know the restored gospel of Jesus Christ is true. We should, therefore, feel compelled to share our spiritual knowledge with all of our Father’s children by inviting them to pull a chair up to the Lord’s table and feast on the words of Christ.
“Come unto the Holy One of Israel,” wrote the great Book of Mormon prophet Jacob, “and feast upon that which perisheth not, neither can be corrupted, and let your soul delight in fatness.” Later Nephi urged his followers to “feast upon the words of Christ; for behold, the words of Christ will tell you all things what ye should do.”
God’s chosen prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley, recently said:
“Every member of this church is an individual man or woman, boy or girl. Our great responsibility is to see that each is ‘remembered and nourished by the good word of God’ (Moro. 6:4), that each has opportunity for growth and expression and training in the work and ways of the Lord. …
“This work is concerned with people, each a son or daughter of God. In describing its achievements we speak in terms of numbers, but all of our efforts must be dedicated to the development of the individual.”
For The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to fulfill its divine mission to assist in bringing “to pass the immortality and eternal life of man,” all members need to generate an appetite for gospel sustenance. We must “hunger and thirst after righteousness” before we can be filled. We need to cultivate spiritual strength within ourselves before we can ever hope to engender it in others. Individual, personal testimony of gospel truth, particularly of the divine life and mission of the Lord Jesus Christ, is essential to our eternal life. “And this is life eternal,” said the Savior, “that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou has sent.” In other words, life eternal is predicated upon our own individual, personal knowledge of our Father in Heaven and His Holy Son. Simply knowing about them is not enough. We must have personal, spiritual experiences to anchor us. These come through seeking them in the same intense, single-minded way that a hungry person seeks food.
Once again quoting President Hinckley:
“The gaining of a strong and secure testimony is the privilege and opportunity of every individual member of the Church. The Master said, ‘If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself’ (John 7:17).
“Service in behalf of others, study, and prayer lead to faith in this work and then to knowledge of its truth. This has always been a personal pursuit, as it must always be in the future.”
We must fortify ourselves before we can ever hope to offer spiritual nourishment to others. Once we have nourished ourselves with the good word of Christ and feasted personally at His table so that our testimony is strong and vibrant, we are obligated to join with the missionaries in a balanced effort to invite others—beginning with our families—to the spiritual banquet. As the Lord said to His beloved Apostle Peter, “When thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren.” And again speaking to Peter, the Savior asked: “Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? Peter was grieved because he said unto him the third time, Lovest thou me? And he said unto him, Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee. Jesus saith unto him, Feed my sheep.”
If we are obedient to the Savior’s command given to Peter, we will focus our attention on the spiritual growth and development of those for whom we are responsible. Feeding the Lord’s sheep requires each of us to awaken our interest in others. The duty to invite others to partake of the gospel feast does not rest only on the shoulders of the missionaries. That sober and significant duty belongs to each member of the Church, for “it becometh every man who hath been warned to warn his neighbor.”
Today our prophet is calling for enthusiastic and dynamic love for our Heavenly Father’s children. He asks us to see the spiritual hunger around us and to respond by willingly sharing our abundance. No power on earth can accomplish as much as one righteous man or woman or boy or girl.
The home and family have vital roles in cultivating and developing personal faith and testimony. The family is the basic unit of society; the best place for individuals to build faith and strong testimonies is in righteous homes filled with love. Love for our Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ is greatly enhanced when the gospel is taught and lived in the home. True principles of eternal life are embedded in the hearts and souls of young and old alike when scriptures are read and discussed, when prayers are offered morning and night, and when reverence for God and obedience to Him are modeled in everyday conduct. Just as the best meals are home cooked, the most nourishing gospel instruction takes place at home. Strong, faithful families have the best opportunity to produce strong, faithful members of the Church. The recent proclamation to the world on the family, issued by the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, makes very clear that the family is ordained of God. The proclamation warns that the disintegration of the family will bring upon individuals, communities, and nations the calamities foretold by ancient and modern prophets (see Ensign, Nov. 1995, 102).
The family is where the foundation of personal spiritual growth is built and nurtured; the Church, then, is the scaffolding that helps support and strengthen the family. While the Church is secondary to the family in teaching gospel principles, much spiritual learning and growth come through the Church. For example, carefully planned sacrament meetings should be a spiritual feast in which we worship and learn of our Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Bishops, if your sacrament meetings are less than a banquet of spiritual nourishment, I urge you to invite suggestions from your ward council, especially the sisters, on ways to make every sacrament meeting a more reverent, spiritual experience. Let the council also help teach our members that the chapel is a special place in our buildings where we come in a spirit of respect for God and reverence for His holy Son. Let the quiet, peaceful promptings of the Holy Spirit abide in our worship services, causing spiritual enlightenment and nourishment to flow into our lives.
Whether we are teaching in the home or in the Church, we must keep a clear vision of the gospel’s eternal purpose. Not long ago I experienced the kind of faith and spiritual strength the gospel provides when an 18-year-old sister, who was fighting for her life in a battle with cancer, asked me for a blessing. She said: “Brother Ballard, I am not afraid to die. I would like to live. There are things I would still like to accomplish in this life, but I know that Jesus is my Savior and my Redeemer. During these past few years He has become my best friend. I trust Him, and I trust you as His representative. Whatever He wants for me, I am prepared.”
We pled for a miracle but at her request left the matter with Heavenly Father. She died shortly thereafter with the peace of the Lord attending her and her faithful family.
Brothers and sisters, we should teach revealed principles and inspired doctrine in our homes and in our Church meetings. Every parent and class instructor should be well prepared to teach the gospel by the power of the Spirit to ensure that testimonies are renewed and understanding of life and life eternal is fortified.
The First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles ask leaders to emphasize constantly, in priesthood quorums, auxiliaries, and stake and ward councils, the preeminence of the home and family. That is where scriptures are studied and prayers are offered regularly so all family members will strive to follow the Savior in all things.
Leaders also need to emphasize that all adult members of the Church should strive to become worthy to receive the ordinances of the temple. Members should identify their ancestors and perform the sacred temple ordinances for them.
Parents and leaders need to do everything possible to prepare each young man to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood and the ordinances of the temple and to serve a full-time mission. Likewise, young women need to prepare to make and keep sacred covenants and receive temple ordinances. Making and keeping sacred covenants in the house of the Lord is the most delicious course at the Lord’s table. It is the ultimate, satisfying spiritual feast of the gospel of Jesus Christ in mortality; it has eternal consequences. Our living prophet has expressed his great vision of those who qualify for temple ordinances, keep temple covenants, and serve regularly in the house of the Lord:
“We would be a better people,” President Hinckley said. “There would be little or no infidelity among us. Divorce would almost entirely disappear. So much of heartache and heartbreak would be avoided. There would be a greater measure of peace and love and happiness in our homes. There would be fewer weeping wives and weeping children. There would be a greater measure of appreciation and of mutual respect among us. And I am confident the Lord would smile with greater favor upon us.”
Through His prophet, God has promised to replace the spiritual hunger that plagues mankind with untold bounty from His own table. All He asks is that we come unto Christ and then do all we can, through our families and with the support of the Church, to help all of our Father’s children succeed spiritually in this critical journey of mortality.
“Behold,” said the Lord, “I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.”
I testify to you that Jesus is the Christ. He lives and invites everyone to partake of the joyful feast of the gospel. Joseph Smith is the prophet of the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ in these latter days. May we all be blessed, my beloved brothers and sisters, with an increased desire to seek after and feast on the things of the Spirit, I pray humbly in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I was impressed with the remarks of a stake president at a recent stake conference as he was released from his assignment. His remarks were of thankfulness for the opportunity to serve his stake and for the way the people served each other. He said:

My service has been out . . . for all to see. But think of the many auxiliary and other leaders and individual members of the Church who have at the same time quietly done their duty and been faithful to the Lord. Some of the greatest service rendered while I have been your president has been done silently out of great sacrifice by individual members. Theirs is the widow’s mite. Theirs is the blessing of true service.

The president remembered his ancestry, his parents, his children, his business partner, his professional secretaries, members of his high council, stake clerks, and secretaries. And then he stated: “I would not have been able to serve a single week without the help, love, and support of my dear wife.”

In tribute to the bishops, branch presidents, and other leaders, he said, “They serve where the tire hits the road. They have been faithful and loyal to me, as well as to the Lord.”

The president expressed appreciation for his counselors, and for one in particular who declared to him, “You may not wear the hair shirt”—meaning the stake president was never to feel guilty. He had been called by the Lord and was not to feel guilty for difficult decisions that only he could make.

He told of looking in the mirror the day after October general conference and seeing in his mind’s eye the hands of God, kneading the bread dough of his kingdom, and folding him (the stake president) back into the general loaf of the kingdom of God. “Mine,” he said, “was a time to rise for a moment, but now I would become part of the general membership again, as a brother in the gospel of Jesus Christ. And so other lives will now be blessed and raised, for the good of the loaf of God.”

What a wonderful attitude!—a stake president demonstrating and teaching how we believe and pray and study the scriptures, earn our livelihood, and serve our God with love. His life’s stream is right on course.

Early on a Saturday morning, 19 December 1987, my family piled into our van to make the four-hour trek from Shelley, Idaho, to Salt Lake City, Utah, to finish our Christmas shopping and to see the lights on Temple Square. The trip felt routine. We had made it several times before, and I quickly fell asleep in the backseat.
After less than an hour I awoke in terror as the van jerked to the left, then to the right. Suddenly I was thrown from the vehicle and landed on my backside on the cold, snow-covered roadside. Only moments before, my mother had fastened my one-year-old sister into her car seat after feeding her but failed to buckle her own seatbelt. I sat rubbing my hip, listening to our van tumble in the background and trying to recall the circumstances in which I had fallen asleep.
When the van came to a rest, everything was silent for a moment. Then, as I caught sight of our mangled van, I began to realize what had happened, though still not understanding the magnitude of the tragic event.
Bruised slightly and quite confused, I walked to the wreckage and my family. Everyone appeared to be in pain. I stepped close to my mother, who sat leaning against the van’s tire, and asked how she was. The indecisive phrase “I don’t know” satisfied my frightened mind.
Within minutes an emergency helicopter arrived to rush my mother and five-year-old brother, Josh, to a nearby hospital. I climbed into one of two ambulances that carried the rest of my battered family to the emergency room. Suffering from a mere scrape on my back, I was the least injured.
My family dispersed into various examination rooms for individual treatment before we were reunited an hour or so later in a small hospital room at the request of my father. I looked around the room at family members whose medical treatments were temporarily postponed and began to worry about the effects of this unthinkable tragedy. Two of our family were missing: Josh, who I later learned was in a coma in critical condition, and Mom.
The words my father then spoke will never fade from memory.
“Mom is dead,” he mumbled beneath his tears.
My heart sank, and my eyes also filled with tears. The room was silent for a few moments as these words sank in.
“Who’s going to cook for us?” nine-year-old Sarah asked.
Dad replied with the best words of comfort he could think of under the circumstances. “I don’t know. We’ll work something out.”
Christmas was different that year, falling only six days after the accident. We postponed celebrating the holiday until Josh had recuperated enough to join the family. Then, on our special Christmas morning, my seven brothers and sisters and I gathered in a circle around the tree with my dad to open presents. As was tradition in our family, the youngest, my one-year-old sister, picked the first present to open. She chose a gift my mother had prepared for the family before her death.
Dad removed the wrapping paper from a framed cross-stitch that read, “The circle of our love is Forever.” The implication of that simple phrase brought peace to my family in that time of trial, and the meaning behind the words has bound us together ever since with the knowledge that we will see our mother again.

In the midst of this heavy competition, I should like to audaciously announce that Dick Davis and I are the champions—that is in our field. We are not the fastest, the longest, nor the strongest runners in the land, but I contend we are the most versatile.
Five years ago we looked at our physiques. Dick has the more traditional, chunky-jogger look, while I have what you might call a war refugee’s build. We decided that something—anything—must be done. Since our work in the entertainment business demands much travel, we have had to jog in some unusual places. In an effort to help those who feel they don’t have the time nor the proper place to jog, may we submit a sample of our record.
We have jogged: through the wheat fields of Saskatchewan and the rain forest near Olympia, Washington; over the Snake River in Idaho and along the Skunk River in Iowa; up and down the Capitol Records tower in Hollywood, and up and down the George Washington Monument; above the grape vineyards of Napa Valley, California, and through new snow in Cache Valley, Utah; along the Atlantic at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, along the Pacific at Santa Barbara and Vancouver, B.C.; through the hardwood forests near Nashville and the sagebrush around Las Vegas; along the Los Angeles storm canal system and around the Atlanta Civic Auditorium parking lot; around the high school track at Roseville, California, and down the railroad track near Ritzville, Washington; in Houston when it was 98 degrees, and in Calgary when it was 38 degrees below zero; in, near, around, or through the Montana prairies, the granite boulders near Silver City, New Mexico, the Czechoslovakian Embassy in Washington, the old western movie sets near Prescott, Arizona, and more freeway rest areas and public parks than we want to remember.
From this vast reserve of experience, we would like to offer some pieces of free advice that are worth every penny of it.
Start your jogging program slowly and build up gradually. The first day out, never do as much as you think you would like to. If you are over thirty, check with your doctor first. Come to think of it, if you’re over thirty, what are you reading this for anyway? You should be reading the Ensign.
People sometimes ask us: How do I get started jogging? One good way is to lean forward until you begin to fall on your face. Take a step to correct your balance. Keep leaning for a mile or so. Then either straighten the body and stop, or lean a little more and collapse on the ground, whichever seems appropriate.
The basic jogging form is head up, rib cage lifted, medium arm action, feet pointed forward. Most new joggers prefer rolling from heel to ball of the foot as it is easier on the calf muscle. Jogging should be easy and rhythmical. If you find yourself gasping for breath, clutching at your throat, staggering, turning gray, or inching along on all fours, cut back a little on your jogging program.
The sprint form is head erect, mouth open in large smile, arms agitated, feet barely touching the ground. This is used by new joggers their first morning out for approximately 25 yards.
The shuffle form is a good steady ground gainer used at the end of a five-mile run. It will get you there, but it wears out the toes on your shoes.
The pacer form is a sort of prancing gait, not unlike a show ring pony. Keep your head erect, chin tucked in, chest thrust out, knees pumping high, toes slightly pointed, jaw firmly set, but facial muscles giving the appearance of quiet control. This form is used mostly for passing girls of your own age coming the other direction on bicycles. With practice it can be sustained for bursts of 10 to 15 feet.
1. Pain in the side. Some joggers complain of a pain in the side. This is especially common among joggers who planned to jog past their girl friend’s house, and their mother said they had to take their little brother along. No medical cure known.
2. The blind staggers. This is a dizziness experienced from jumping up off the couch too fast and jogging out the door when your mother says, “Jim, did you cut the lawn yet?” Cure—cut the lawn yet.
3. Proper breathing while jogging. While jogging be sure to alternate breathing in and out, as too much of one or the other will cause discomfort.
4. Charley Horses in your calf muscles. This is mostly a rural ailment and hardly ever experienced any more since most people live in the cities.
5. Jogging in inclement weather. Track coach Stretch Scrimshaw said, “It don’t hurt nothin’ to run in inclement weather, but, however, I wouldn’t run in the rain. It gets your shoes all muddy.”
6. Shin Splints and Chill Blains. These were two of the most famous joggers in American history. They set out to jog from Baja, California, to Miami, Florida. Unfortunately, they forgot to consider the Gulf of Mexico.
7. Dogs. Dogs along your jogging route should not be considered a hindrance. They are an opportunity to develop your speed and endurance. Admittedly, dogs do present certain dangers. Dick is in danger of being bitten. I am in danger of being buried.
8. Jogging attire. This is a good idea, especially if the tire is hanging over your belt.
9. Palpitations of the heart. (See #1, “Jogging past girlfriend’s house.” Also no medical cure known.)
Happy jogging, and as the great baseball pitcher Satchel Page once said, “Don’t look back, something might be gaining on you.”

Haig looked across the hot street. He reached back and closed the door behind him as he dashed barefoot over the blistering cobblestones to the shade of his father’s shop. Father was inside making the candies for which he was known all over Cairo.
“Ah, Haig, you have braved the hot stones to come to see your father,” Krikor said, handing his son a broken piece of candy.
“Thank you,” Haig said, and went into the back of the tiny shop to get the tray his father would need to take the finished candies to sell at the marketplace.
Krikor glanced fondly at his son who had brought the tray, and said, “So, in two days you will begin school. And to think, you will ride on a bus, and it stops only a mile from the school. When I was a boy in my home country I walked to the next village each day to have my lessons from the village priest.”
“But, Father, how am I to walk to the bus with no sandals? The ground is so hot that it is cracked and broken.”
Father looked up from his work, his hands pausing for a moment. “Well, now, I don’t know, Haig. Sandals cost twenty piasters, much more than we can spare right now.” Then more hopefully Krikor added, “But perhaps I shall get such a good price for my candy today that there will be enough extra to buy your sandals.”
Haig looked around the crowded shop at the boiling candy and at the bottles that held flavorings to mix with water for sweet drinks. His father had often explained with pride that in Armenian the family name meant “candymaker.” I wish, Haig thought now, that our family had been sandal makers instead.
That afternoon as Haig’s mother prepared supper, he heard children singing outside. He knew there were few Christians living in Egypt, but from the children’s song Haig could tell they were, like his family, Christians. “Listen, Mother,” he called, “the orphans.”
His mother opened the door and smiled at the ragged children. When they finished their song she handed their leader a small coin. As they passed on to the next house, Haig noticed their feet.
“Look, Mother, even the orphans have sandals.”
“Yes, I see, Haig. They are fortunate for that. But sandals for you are another matter. Your father has saved five piasters to buy some for you, yet it is not enough.” She looked into his eyes and smiled. “When we have done all we can and still need help, what must we do?”
“I know, Mother, and I have prayed.”
“Why then, we pray again. Tonight when you go to bed, ask our Father in heaven to help you get sandals so you can wear them to school.”
After Haig said his prayers that night, he overheard his parents talking in low tones.
“Today I hoped to sell my candy at a good price so I could buy Haig a pair of sandals, but business was no better, worse even, it seemed,” his father said with a sigh. “I had to lower my price in order to sell the candy at all. I may have to take two of the piasters I had saved to buy sugar for tomorrow’s candy. Maybe next week I’ll be able to buy the sandals.”
Next week! Haig agonized. Why, I’ll never, never be able to go to school. I shall never learn to read and write.
Haig dreamed of a room full of sandals that night—all shapes and sizes. As more and more sandals tumbled into his room, he called out, “But I only need one pair!” And suddenly he was awake and it was morning. Hopefully he looked across the room. No sandals. Quickly he climbed off of his bed and searched the room. Still no sandals.
He dressed and went into the other room, sad-faced. There he found his mother talking with a woman. Haig did not remember ever seeing her before, but he heard her say, “Yesterday evening I said to my husband, ‘I feel impressed that I must go to visit Arminé and Krikor; I have not seen them for a long time.’ So I caught the night train from Alexandria and here I am only four hours later.”
His mother saw Haig standing in the doorway. “Son,” she said. “Come meet a special friend of our family. This lady and her husband stayed in our home when you were born. They were refugees from Armenia during the terrible war. It was she who gave you your name.”
The lady smiled at him. “You are indeed a fine boy.”
She turned to Haig’s mother. “My husband and I have wanted to give Haig a gift for a long time. I would have brought one with me but I wasn’t sure what he might like. If you can suggest something, I’ll buy it for him today.”
His mother looked at her son and smiled. “I think Haig would like a pair of sandals very much,” she suggested.
“That is good,” the lady said. “Today we will buy a pair of sandals.”
Haig was excited. “May we go now?” he asked.
“Oh, no,” his mother answered, laughingly. “First, breakfast. Then the shoes. And tomorrow—school!”

I opened my eyes to pure darkness. I was alone. And I needed to get moving.
Moments before, my siblings and I had gathered in our barn. This was the perfect arena for our favorite game: hide-and-seek in the dark.
I had the misfortune of being the first seeker. My siblings ran off with flashlights in hand, and I was left alone without a light source. After two minutes of waiting, it was time to run off in search of my siblings.
But I couldn’t bring myself to move.
I was temporarily paralyzed by the fear of what lay beyond in the dark. Eventually, my fear of being alone took over. I took tentative steps forward and …
I fell flat on my face.
I got back up and continued to stumble around in the dark.
As someone with a crippling fear of the dark, I felt vulnerable and exposed in my pitch-black barn. If I hadn’t been so focused on my fear, perhaps I would’ve been more prepared for the obstacles that awaited me.
I tripped and fell in my barn because I couldn’t see any obstacles. A flashlight would’ve warned me of the danger and saved me a great deal of pain.
My sister was my hero that day in the barn. She could’ve ignored my pleas for help as I crossed her path. But instead, she turned on her flashlight and ran to my rescue. Her grace made me feel less alone. And I clung to that grace until the search for my brothers was over.

In one of my school classes, we were reading a book that critiqued the Church. I knew I needed to speak up about the truths of the restored gospel. So I raised my hand. The teacher called on me, but I didn’t know what to say. For some reason, I started to sing the songs of the Articles of Faith. To my surprise, a profound reverence came over the room. Afterward there was less confusion, and my teacher and classmates treated class discussion and me with more respect.
Monique, Massachusetts, USA

Dillon has a terrible problem: his greatest talent is also his greatest fear. “I love to sing,” the 16-year-old Tongan says, “but not in front of people. I get too scared.”
Imagine his mixed feelings when the Church in Tonga announced auditions for vocalists to record a Tongan version of the Old Testament seminary soundtrack. He was both excited and scared to death.
Three songs on the soundtrack require a male vocalist. After Dillon had sung the song for which he was auditioning, the producer surprised him by asking him to sing another of the songs on the soundtrack. As nervous as he was, he did it, and the producer said, “We found our boy.”
Much to his excitement—and dismay—Dillon was offered the opportunity to record all three songs.
Dillon, a member of the Nuku‘alofa Tonga Stake, excels in school. He’s one of about 10 percent of Tongan students selected to attend the government school. He also enjoys seminary. “He wakes us up early so he can get to seminary,” his mother, Malenita, says.
But singing is what he loves—though his family didn’t even know he could until he was asked to sing a solo during a Primary program one year.
“Dillon’s always been shy,” his mother says.
He did so well in the Primary program that he was asked to sing during a conference of the Nuku‘alofa Tonga Stake. After that he was hooked.
He told his mom, “One day I’m going to use my talent for God.” After he was chosen to sing on the soundtrack, he told her, “Mom, I used my talent.”
Dillon’s older brother, Sione, says he tries to encourage Dillon to sing. “I would love to have the talent he does,” he says. “Everybody wants him to share it.”
“I like it when he sings,” says his sister, Pea.
“I want to sing like him some day,” says his nine-year-old brother, Paula.
Dillon is grateful for his family’s support. “I love my family,” he says. “I’m sure that with their help, I can make my weakness a strength.”
As Dillon worked with the sound crew to record the songs, he struggled with one note. “I couldn’t hit it,” he says. “We rehearsed for hours.”
Finally, exhausted and discouraged, he went home that night, knowing that the next morning he’d have to record the song.
“I went straight to my room and prayed to my Heavenly Father to help me,” he says.
All he could think about was how important the soundtrack would be to the 50,000 members of the Church in Tonga, as well as thousands of others who speak Tongan around the world.
“It was one of the longest nights of my life,” he says.
After a long night of prayer and a little bit of sleep, Dillon walked into the recording studio and hit the note.
“Hallelujah,” he remembers saying. “I was happy.”
One of Dillon’s favorite scriptures is Joshua 1:9: “Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”
Dillon put that promise to the test, and he learned it was true. “I tried my best. I put my best effort and heart into the songs so the listeners will be able to feel the Spirit.”
As Dillon grows out of his fear and into his talents, he recognizes he has received a lot of help—not only from his family but from his Heavenly Father.
“I know,” he says, “that God answered my prayers.”

Lobo is the reason David started going to church in the first place. He was out one morning when some boys from the neighborhood ran up and asked if they could pet his dog. They were three brothers, all younger than David, and they weren’t allowed to have a dog themselves. So David let them pet his dog. After that, the boys started coming around all the time to see Lobo, and eventually they told him they were LDS. Did David want to come to church with them some time?

That’s how it happened. The rest was simple. David prayed about it, and he gained a testimony of the gospel. Unfortunately, those three boys moved away.

Now David goes to church by himself. He takes the 7:45 one train to Lincoln Center, then walks across the street, skirting the construction at the corner of 65th and Columbus. It’s the seven-story building with the gold lettering above the door that says “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” “Visitors Welcome” is the sign on the corner, but David is not a visitor.

I remember a few years back my husband and I were going to a trip without our children. They were young probably like between 5-9 years of age. As we were preparing to leave we sat down with the kids to talk about how they were to behave, that they were responsible to take care of each other, that they should get along with one another, “if you act up you’re gonna get it when we get home!” Probably not in those exact words but you get the picture! They were playing and seemed not to be paying attention as young children do. Then I turned to my oldest son and said to him “now when daddy’s away you are the priesthood holder of this house. It is your kuleana to watch over your siblings (even your older sister) and to take care of them.” As I mentioned the word kuleana his whole demeanor changed. I could tell the weight of the situation in his mind and heart had changed. Tears began to drop from his eyes as I knew he was internally taking on this responsibility. I knew he understood what we were asking and that he would follow through. Many of you might be thinking, “wow, how’s those parenting skills?” But it was our way of communicating to him that this was something worth deeper thought and understanding.

“You must have a personal conversion to the gospel, especially if you are going to share it with someone outside of the Church,” says Torfin Christensen, 18, of Kent, Washington.
Share your beliefs.
In the summer of 1991, Tor went to work for AnaMarie Hollenbach, a 72-year-old invalid confined to a wheelchair. He still does odd jobs around her house and brings her groceries in every Friday evening. He says, “At first, she was just curious about the Mormons, and we would talk about our beliefs with each other. Then a few months later, she asked for the missionary lessons. She accepted everything right down the line and gave up a lifelong habit of smoking.” On March 26, 1992, Tor baptized Sister Hollenbach.
As first assistant in the priests quorum of the Kent Third Ward, Kent Stake, Tor sees that Sister Hollenbach receives the sacrament in her home at least once a month since her health does not allow her to attend Church services on a regular basis.
Tor is working and saving money and hopes to be in the mission field by fall of this year. He says quietly but with conviction, “I believe the gospel. I live it. I’ve never experienced life without it, and I don’t ever want to.”
Live the gospel.
Here are a few more of the teachings of the gospel Tor lives by:
Service: His mother, Sherie Christensen, says, “Tor is keenly aware of the needs of others, and he is always doing something for someone. Here at home, if he sees something needs to be done he gets right after it without being asked or told.”
Scripture study: Tor graduated from seminary and continues to fit daily scripture study into his busy schedule. He feels that his seminary experience has given him a more thorough understanding of the gospel and has better prepared him for a mission.
Tithes: The first thing out of each paycheck is Tor’s tithing. He works at an apartment complex doing maintenance projects to earn money for his mission and personal needs.
Self-sufficiency: Tor worked to pay for a small truck he uses to help ease his own, as well as the family’s, transportation needs.

Before I left on my mission to Pennsylvania, USA, I started experiencing anxiety. My mission plans were put on hold as I worked to address what I was feeling. My mission president wanted me to be in a good place mentally because missions can trigger a lot of stress and anxiety.

I worked to address my mental health and then left on my mission after I was given clearance from a counselor.

Everything was fine until I arrived in my third area. From not getting along with my companion to struggling to find people to teach, my anxiety spiked to the point where I could hardly get out of bed in the morning. I had moments where I felt so anxious that I could barely breathe, and I was experiencing situational depression. I eventually reached out to my mission president, who lovingly suggested I speak to my mission’s mental health counselors. Talking to them helped, but it didn’t take care of the problem entirely.

What did help me get back on track were the tools and the practices I had learned from counseling. I used them to maintain my mental health. They didn’t take away my anxiety entirely, but they made it manageable enough to be able to continue my missionary service.

These small and simple practices had a huge impact on my ability to serve the Lord with all my heart, might, mind, and strength. Struggling with your mental health is nothing to be ashamed of, and there is always hope through Jesus Christ to find strength, hope, and healing. Heavenly Father has given us many tools to keep our minds, bodies, and spirits healthy. We just have to be willing to use them.

Faith Ferguson, Idaho, USA

As a 16-year-old boy, Glen L. Rudd took between 800 and 900 pounds (360 to 400 kg) of chicken meat to the Pioneer Stake Bishops’ Storehouse in downtown Salt Lake City for his father.
He watched as the heavy delivery was lifted up on the loading dock of the familiar building. He had heard about what went on inside but had never seen it personally. He knew of the circumstances of many families in his stake; most of his friends’ fathers were unemployed because of the Great Depression.
But on that day he saw what was really happening. “I knew we were helping the poor, the people in need,” recalled Elder Rudd, a former member of the Seventy who spent 25 years managing Welfare Square—the outgrowth of that first storehouse.
As a young man, he realized that during the height of the Depression, when almost 70 percent of the men in his stake didn’t have jobs, the Church was offering help. At the storehouse was a coal and wood yard, a furniture workshop, a cannery and sewing center, and food—much of it donated by people like his father, who owned a poultry processing plant.
August 19, 2007, marked the 75th anniversary of the opening of that storehouse, the Church’s first. Today the Church operates 108 storehouses in the United States and Canada and an additional 29 in Latin America. There are storehouses in Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, the Dominican Republic, Ecuador, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Mexico, Paraguay, Peru, Uruguay, and Venezuela.
In addition, the Church runs 285 Employment Resource Centers, 44 Deseret Industries thrift stores, and 100 home storage centers around the world. Church members donated 623,153 days of labor to welfare facilities in 2006, and 239,410 people internationally received training and jobs with the help of Latter-day Saint employment efforts, according to information provided by Welfare Services.
“I have passed this place thousands of times,” said Elder Rudd, speaking of the Church’s first storehouse and its significance. “I have always had great feelings for it. This was the beginning.”
The storehouse began in early 1932, when then-stake president (later 11th President of the Church) Harold B. Lee (1899–1973) and his counselors met with bishops in the Pioneer Stake. “It was decided after a good discussion that they better do something and do it quickly,” Elder Rudd said. “It was decided that they would build a storehouse and learn how to fill it.”
Stake leaders obtained the free use of a building on Pierpont Avenue and volunteers got the facility ready. Members of the Pioneer Stake fasted on the day of the official opening and brought their contributions to the storehouse.
“It was an interesting thing that by the time it was finished, there was enough food and other items contributed to fill the storehouse,” wrote Elder Rudd in a report about the storehouse. “Also, there was a spirit throughout the stake like there had never been before—just plain brotherly love.”
The storehouse, which filled the same function as early tithing offices, operated under the same principles as modern Latter-day Saint storehouses. “Everyone was supposed to work. That was the aim of the Church, to help people help themselves,” Elder Rudd explained.
Elder Rudd said as commodity prices were very low in the 1930s, many farmers were unable to hire any help and most were harvesting what they could and letting the rest spoil. Storehouse officials—including President Lee’s counselor Paul C. Child and storehouse manager, Bishop Jesse M. Drury—assigned Fred J. Heath and other unemployed men to contact the farmers, and many men were sent onto farms along the Wasatch Front and as far away as Idaho to harvest crops that were then shared with the volunteers.
Trucks arrived at the storehouse filled with fruit and other produce. Much of the fruit was canned, Elder Rudd recalled.
He said at one point so many onions (which were donated in abundance) and canned goods were stored in the upper level of the storehouse that the ceiling started to buckle. Props were placed to keep the ceiling from collapsing. Onions were traded for other necessities. The storehouse provided help. No one was ever turned away, he said.
Soon the Salt Lake Stake asked if they could join with the Pioneer Stake storehouse, and four years later they moved the facility to a larger building. Other storehouses were established in the Murray and Liberty Stakes. In addition, employment offices were set up in all six stakes then operating in the Salt Lake Valley.
“[The Pioneer Stake storehouse] became the pattern for all other storehouses,” said Elder Rudd, “including the big storehouses built by the General Welfare Committee in 1938 and 1939, which were located on what has since been known as Welfare Square.”

I have felt impressed to share a personal witness of how life's greatest test, task and commandment blend together to bless and develop us.

On Saturday, December 20, 2008, it was a busy day in the Miyasaki home. My wife helped with the finishing touches of our local High School's Operation Merry Christmas. We then cooked breakfast for the basketball team, and after running several more errands, she was getting ready to go score keep at the upcoming basketball games when she complained of chest pains. I deducted it was probably just her fast paced morning, and instructed her to just lie down and rest for a bit. My daughter came and told me that the pain still persisted and I called my sister, a nurse for counsel. She suggested I take her to the Community Care Center for examination. On the way to Rexburg from our home in Sugar City, my wife said in a tearful voice, "I'm too young to die". I scolded her for even thinking that she would die, but little did I know, that in less than one minute, she would state, "I feel like I'm going to faint", and then she went into cardiac arrest. As she went limp, I reached over and placed one hand on her head, offering a short priesthood blessing. I maneuvered my way to the hospital, steering with one arm down the center of the road, and with my other arm headlocking my sweetheart's limp body to keep her upright, until we arrived at the Emergency Room. I ran in and shouted, my wife is not breathing, and quickly the medical personnel rushed her to the emergency room.

I heard the overhead address system call out repeatedly, "Code Blue, Emergency Room". I watched the flat line on the heart monitor, fear overcame me and I called my daughter to tell the family their mother was not breathing nor had a heartbeat. Just as I hung up the phone, in the next miraculous moment, they revived her life.

She was transferred to the hospital in Idaho Falls underwent successful surgery, but still unconscious, the physicians warned me that they did not know how much damage was left by the minutes she was without oxygen before she was brought back to life. For 24 hours they reduced her body temperature to the high 80's to keep the swelling in her brain to a minimum.

I recall sitting by her side during that time, holding her cold hand, wondering what might our future be. Would she be less than what she had been? Would she be able to walk, talk, and think? How would our life now be changed?

I remember wondering what I should pray for. A blessing was given, could I pray for more than what she was blessed? What was the will of the Father? Did He want her to be here or did He need her in the next life? Or if she were to survive and be less than normal, did God desire me to live a life of serving my sweetheart?

On Monday morning, some 40 hours since hearing those words, "I'm too young to die", my Darla opened her eyes. During the next two days, she showed remarkable progress, and it looked as if all was well and normal. She was talking, walking, eating, making jokes, and began stating her worries. The doctors were enthused, and reported Darla would be moved to the rehab floor on Wednesday, which meant we were close to release, possibly on Christmas day. It was now Tuesday night, and after the visitors and family all left, Darla and I were alone in the room, holding hands, I offered a prayer of thanks.

After the prayer, Darla asked me, "Why did this happen to me?"
I responded, "Probably to learn some important lessons."
After a moment, Darla said, "I don't know of any lessons I have learned," then she asked, "what have you learned?"
I then rehearsed to her many lessons that I had learned, but one of the great lessons I rehearsed was from the teachings of Paul found in Ephesians 5:25: "Husbands, love your wives even as Christ also loved the church."

My discovery that night, was the answer to the question, "how do we take hold of the good root?"
We do it by following the example of our Savior. We taste of the sweetness of the blessings of the atonement when we abide by his invitation of "...that which ye have seen me do even that shall ye do."[12]

During the night after that sacred conversation, my Sweetheart suffered a severe stroke. The doctors after examining the MRI results reported that the bleeding in her brain was so severe, that Darla had lost her ability to speak, think, and be mobile. They posed a possible surgical intervention that at best preserve a vegetative state, but even at that stated her chance to survive the surgery was 50/50. Without surgery, they speculated she would die within a few hours.

As patriarch, I gathered our family into a hospital room. There I announced to them the state of my wife, their mother, their sister, and grandmother. The scene was heart wrenching. We had to make a quick decision. Should it be surgery with the best possible results a vegetative state, or let fate take its course and have Darla with us only a few more hours. A beautiful, heart searching family prayer was offered by my son, Jared, and the will of the Lord was revealed. Darla's mortal mission was complete, and we must submit to the will of the Father.

Brothers and Sisters, submission to the Father's will in all things is a pattern of love. It is the essential characteristic of the atonement and receiving the blessings of the atonement. It shows we trust in Him, that we love Him most, and in turn we can love others best. He then can bless us in ways that we cannot see nor comprehend. We then can produce fruit that we and He can lay up against the season.

Six days had now passed since we made the decision, and Darla was in an unconscious state throughout this time, her body hanging on to mortality, but day by day growing closer to death. On this sixth night, we had a dinner of take out Chinese food, which of course included the fortune cookies. We joked about how lame the messages of fortune had become, my message echoed this as it read, "the evening promises romantic interests". We all shared a laugh about my untimely message of fortune. For when one envisions romance, certain images appear of a night out, possibly going to a nice dinner, having wonderful caring conversations, and then cuddling and loving each other. That was certainly not in my cards that night.

I discovered that night what true romance really is. That last night of being together in this mortality was filled with pure love and romance. After my family had left, and it was just my sweetheart and I in the hospital room, I told my unconscious Darla that this would most likely be our last night together. I shared with her that I was ready to let her go and asked if she was ready. I noticed her eyes twitching, something that I had not seen for a week. I asked her if she could to respond by squinting her eyes once for yes and twice for no. She responded with a squint. It was evident her spirit was alive and was able to communicate with me. She responded that she was also ready to go on.

We then started the night with a prayer. I then read scriptures to her from sections 130, 132, and 138 from the Doctrine and Covenants, Alma 7, 42, and 43, and from the 5th book of Ephesians. I shared with her my testimony and lessons I had learned from each of those scriptures. We prayed again. During the time in the hospital, I tried very hard not to counsel the Lord, and not ask for things that were contrary to His will. I tried to really pray in the name of Christ, and to have the mind of Christ. That night as we prayed, I felt the feeling that anything I asked that night would be granted, and so I offered my sweetheart, pure, clean, and ready for service in the next life. I then laid my hands on my eternal companion's head and gave her the last priesthood blessing in this mortality. Then, after this most beautiful night, positioning chairs so I could lay down next to Darla, we then held hands the remainder of the night, all night long.

That, my friends, was truly a night of romance and pure love. Not a penny was spent, there was no fancy dressing up, no expensive dinners, not one dependency on outside entertainment. Yet, our spirits were molded into one, our hearts were bound, we were one in purpose though soon our paths would be temporarily separated, never would our eternal destiny differ.

As I went through this ordeal, there was nothing more I desired than for my sweetheart to live. We had a future with plans of serving in the temple, going on missions, and enjoying our family. Because of loving God first, I was able to love my Sweetheart the best. Because of submitting our will to the will of the Lord, we were blessed with so many miracles and continue to be blessed.

Kristin bounced gently on her toes, bending forward, eyes narrowed. She jerked a little as Shannon, the tall, dark-haired girl on the other side of the net, tossed the tennis ball high and hit it with all her might. The ball went into the net, and Kristin relaxed, but only for an instant. She had to be ready for the second serve.
Kristin was moving as soon as Shannon’s racket hit the ball. This serve was good. It bounced just inside the outside corner of the service line. Stretching as she ran, Kristin managed to reach it with her backhand and return it low across the net.
Shannon, not expecting Kristin to return the serve, had relaxed. The ball passed her and landed on the baseline. Kristin smiled with satisfaction.
“Out,” Shannon called.
There was a murmur from the spectators lounging on the grassy slope under the shade of a cottonwood tree.
Kristin stared at her. “What?” she questioned, her satisfaction turning to disbelief. It was an important point because if Kristin lost it, Shannon would win the second set.
“It was out,” Shannon repeated. “My game and set.”
The girls went to benches on opposite sides of the court for a short break before the third set.
Kristin reached for her water jug and took several cool swallows before sloshing some water onto a towel. She pushed back her damp brown curls and wiped her face and neck, then glanced toward the small group of spectators. Her mom and dad waved.
“Hang in there!” Dad called.
She waved back and smiled, closed her eyes, and tried to relax. But her thoughts weren’t restful. She and Shannon were playing the final match in the Pineview Junior Championship for twelve year olds. The winner would receive a new tennis racket, and Shannon had told all her friends that her mom had promised her a new tennis outfit, too, if she won.
Kristin’s dad had just smiled and shaken his head when she’d suggested that he might do the same for her. “No, Kris,” he had said seriously. “We wouldn’t want to make the stakes so high that you lose sight of the game. You just do the best that you can, as you always do, and have a good time, as you always do.”
“But, Dad—”
He had interrupted her protest with a hug. “If you don’t enjoy the game, don’t play it. I’m not going to bribe you.”
“Oh, Dad!” She had been annoyed and a little angry. Why can’t my parents be more like Shannon’s? she wondered.
Kristin loved playing tennis, and she enjoyed playing against someone good, like Shannon, because she knew that it brought out the best in her own game. But she wanted it to be a fair contest. Earlier in the match, she’d thought that Shannon had made a bad call, but it was hard to tell from across the court, so she had shrugged it off. This last point, though, she knew was good, and the spectators knew it too! Still, it’s a player’s responsibility to make the calls unless there are linesmen at courtside. But that had really been an important point—especially for Shannon. Since Kristin had won the first set, if she had won the second, the match would have been over. This way, Shannon still had a chance.
Instead of relaxing, Kristin was getting angrier just thinking about that last point.
“Ready?” Shannon called.
Kristin nodded, and they returned to the court.
As with the first two sets, the third one was close. The girls fought for every point, and neither could get a comfortable lead. With the game score at 3–3, Kristin hit a hard drive toward the baseline that looked good to her. Shannon called it out. The anger that had been building up since the rest break made Kristin so careless that she muffed the next two points, giving Shannon a comfortable lead on that game.
As she bounced the ball and prepared to serve for the next point, Kristin looked at Shannon. Shannon was looking nervous but pleased.
Kristin thought about Shannon’s expression as she bounced the ball one last time before serving. It was another hard-fought point. But the game ended when Shannon skimmed one over the net at a difficult-to-retrieve angle. Kristin scrambled for the ball but couldn’t get to it. The ball landed right on the line at a place where it was difficult for Shannon to see. Kristin, still angry, had raised her hand to signal it out, when suddenly she understood what her dad had meant about losing sight of the game. She also understood that look on Shannon’s face.
Tennis rules state that if a ball touches a line, the shot is good. If there’s a question about the shot, the players’ code of sportsmanlike behavior says to let the questioning opponent have the point.
“Your point,” Kristin called. The point made it Shannon’s game for a score of 4–3.
Surprisingly relaxed now, as though some important crisis were over, Kristin enjoyed the rest of the match, even though Shannon made another questionable call.
It was close all the way, but after three long sets, Shannon drove home the match point with a beautiful passing shot. She had won the championship. And the new racket. And the new tennis outfit.
The girls met at the net to shake hands.
“Good match,” Shannon said automatically.
“Yes. I always learn a lot when I play against you,” Kristin told her. “I hope you enjoy your new stuff. See you later.”
“Thanks.” Shannon looked a little embarrassed.
Kristin turned away to see her parents waiting at the edge of the court.
“You played very well,” her mother said.
“Tough loss, Kris,” said her dad, “but you played like a champ.”
They walked away arm in arm. Kristin looked back at Shannon, who was walking to the tournament desk to report her win.
“You know, I feel like a champ,” Kristin said. “Thanks, Dad.”

One day I was feeling down and I remembered something someone told me: “If you don’t know that Heavenly Father loves you, ask Him.” So I did just that. I didn’t hear a small voice say, “Yes, absolutely” or “Of course I love you,” but I did feel prompted to read my patriarchal blessing. So I pulled it out.
Before I read a single word, I was overcome with emotion. I felt the Spirit testify to me in my heart boldly that my Heavenly Father loves me and that my patriarchal blessing is not just a blessing about the future but also a blessing of love and comfort whenever I need it.

Excitement thundered through Mariano Palermo’s veins as he and his teammate rowed past the 1,000-meter mark in first place. They were halfway to his dream of winning the 2003 Argentine national rowing championship in men’s pairs and a shot at participating in qualifiers for the 2004 Olympics in Athens, Greece.
They had settled into a great rhythm—their strong strokes catching the water in perfect harmony and propelling them ahead of the competition.
However, a few hundred meters later, Mariano’s excitement chilled when fatigue began to slow his teammate’s pace.
Mariano eyed the second-place boat not far behind. Would the lead they had built up be enough to get them to the finish line first?
Mariano’s twin sister, Lucía, had her own doubles race to concentrate on a little later that day, but she made sure she was there to watch her brother compete. She was thrilled when his team leaped out to such a quick lead. But her heart sank when she saw their pace drop off.
The Palermo twins have always been very close. Being the same age and involved in many of the same activities, they have always spent a lot of time together.
“Mutual, seminary, school,” Lucía lists. “Now that we’re older, it’s a little different, but we still train together.”
The twins, members of the Pacheco Ward, Buenos Aires Argentina Litoral Stake, are also united by other interests. They both enjoy working with their hands—Lucía doing handicrafts or sewing and Mariano working on cars.
“I love to cook,” Lucía adds.
“And I like to eat, so we’re a good team,” laughs Mariano. “I like to cook with her. I’m not very good at it, but it’s fun.”
While the two get along really well—“We can talk about anything,” says Lucía—Mariano says most people don’t realize they’re twins. The two don’t look alike.
“And we don’t know what the other is thinking,” Lucía says, joking about how twins are sometimes portrayed. “But we’re very affected by what happens to the other, whether in school or in competition. We are very united. It’s a beautiful thing.”
When Mariano felt his teammate’s pace slowing, he knew it didn’t matter how strong he felt. If Mariano pulled his oar harder or faster than his teammate did, the unbalanced effort would send the boat off course.
He matched his teammate’s pace and watched as the competitors started gaining on them.
As twins, Mariano and Lucía share many things. Among them is a fierce drive to train hard and give their best individual effort to reach their goals. But in team rowing, individual effort alone won’t get you across the finish line first. The twins have learned that if you aren’t in sync with your teammates, you won’t win.
“The effectiveness of the boat depends on unity,” Mariano says. “We’ve got to be thinking the same, whether it’s a team of two, four, or eight.”
“If we’re not working together—” begins Lucía.
“Precisely,” Mariano interjects.
“—the boat won’t work,” she finishes.
It’s a principle the two understand not only as rowers but as twins and as members of the Church.
“When the team is focused on the same objective, it’s much easier to obtain,” Mariano says. “It’s the same with our family. We have the same goal to be together forever. That helps a ton.”
The two understand that working together is essential not only in rowing but in reaching our ultimate goal to become like Jesus Christ and return to our Heavenly Father’s presence. The Lord said, “Be one; and if ye are not one ye are not mine” (D&C 38:27).
Once we’ve learned that life is not a singles competition but a team event, each of us faces a very important spiritual decision.
As the second-place team pulled alongside Mariano’s boat, it took real discipline for him not to give in to the temptation to row as hard as possible. The finish line was so close. But Mariano knew that rowing at his own pace could be disastrous. At best it would only slow them down; at worst it would send them off course and possibly out of the race.
This choice to follow someone else’s pace rather than our own in order to reach our goal is an important principle when applied to life on earth. We cannot return to our Heavenly Father’s presence on our own (see Romans 3:23).
Fortunately, the Savior was willing to put Himself in our boat through the Atonement (see Alma 7:11–12), providing the way to the finish line, where our Heavenly Father is.
But as in rowing, in order to win the prize we must be willing to give up anything that would keep us from rowing in harmony with the Lord. Atonement means to be reconciled or restored to harmony. Achieving harmony requires being willing to give up all our sins (see Alma 22:18), put off worldly desires, and do the Lord’s will (see Mosiah 3:19).
That’s not always easy, but the Savior knows the “race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1), and He knows exactly what we need in order to return to our Father’s presence.
If we choose not to follow Him, preferring to do things our own way, we are out of sync and in danger of slowing our progress or even putting ourselves out of the race.
In life as well as in athletics, some would rather set their own pace, believing that individuality is the way to true freedom. They choose to row through life alone, not realizing that with Jesus Christ, they could achieve so much more (see Mark 10:27).
In the rowing world, it is well-known that “a team working together can go much faster than an individual,” Lucía explains.
On the standard 2,000-meter course, a good time for a single male rower at his best pace is under seven minutes (the world record is 6:35.40). On a team of eight, however, that same rower, even though he may be matched with slower individual rowers, could go even faster. The world record for a team of eight is 5:19.85.
Just as it would be difficult for a single rower to beat a unified team, without the Savior, we cannot obtain our eternal goals.
Mariano and his teammate refused to give up. But shortly before the finish line, they were passed, leaving them in second place.
Lucía was at the boat ramp when Mariano pulled his boat out after the race. She had her own race coming up to think about, but when she saw his disappointed tears, she broke down herself.
“I knew how hard he had worked,” she says. “I couldn’t bear seeing him so disappointed. I had never seen him like that.”
Together, the twins sorrowed in Mariano’s disappointment. Finally, Lucía’s coach separated them, worried that she wouldn’t be able to focus on her own race. But when the time came, Lucía and her teammate won their pairs race and later the South American championships, earning the right to compete in the 2004 Olympics.
And just as they had shared sorrow in Mariano’s disappointment, they rejoiced together in Lucía’s success.
“I was so excited when she won the opportunity to compete in the Olympics,” Mariano says. “She earned it.”
At the Olympics, Lucía and her teammate ended up ranked 17th. Like Mariano’s results, her finish wasn’t exactly all she had dreamed about. Still, their goals remain high. In the short-term, they want to qualify for an Olympic medal. In the long run, they want to qualify for eternal life.
Both goals will require sacrifice and a willingness to work as one with someone else.
But while the world rewards only one winner (see 1 Corinthians 9:24), no matter how united each team is, the prize the Lord offers can be obtained by all who qualify. Nephi said that “many of us, if not all, may be saved in his kingdom” (2 Nephi 33:12; emphasis added), but we must first “be reconciled unto Christ” (2 Nephi 33:9) by sacrificing our worldly desires in order to follow Him.
The Palermo twins are united in the hope that their faith and sacrifices will be enough to win the one race that matters most of all.

Let me give you some examples. I suppose we have all had someone do something to us that we didn’t like, and that made us angry. We can’t forget it, and we don’t want to be around that person. This is called being unforgiving. Now, the Lord has had some very strong words to say to those who will not forgive one another. Many years ago I had an experience with being unforgiving. I felt I had been taken advantage of, and I did not like that person. I did not want to be around him; I would pass on the other side of the street if he came down it; I wouldn’t talk to him. Long after the issue should have been finished it was still like a canker to my soul. I decided that I was going to pray for a better feeling about this person until I had one. That night I got on my knees, and I prayed and opened up my heart to the Lord. But when I got up off my knees, I still didn’t like that person. The next morning I knelt and prayed and asked to have a feeling of goodness toward him; but when I finished my prayers, I still didn’t like him. The next night I still didn’t like him; a week later I didn’t like him; and a month later I didn’t like him—and I had been praying every night and every morning. But I continued to pray, and I finally started pleading—not just praying, but pleading. After much prayer, the time came when without question or reservation I knew I could stand before the Lord, if I were asked to, and that he would know that at least in this instance my heart was pure. A change had come over me after a period of time. The stone of unforgiveness had been removed.

Consider this letter from one lovely young woman:
“I’m writing this,” she said, “from the depths of a broken heart, in the hope that it may be a warning to other girls never to partake of the bitterness that has come to me. I would give all that I have or ever hope to have if I could go back to those happy, carefree days before the first little taint of sin came upon my heart. I scarcely realized I was slipping into something that could bring such sorrow and ruin into a person’s life.
“I wish I could reveal to you the anguish and regret that fill my heart today, the loss of self-respect and the realization that life’s most priceless gift has slipped away from me. I reached out too eagerly for the excitements and thrills of life, and they have turned to ashes in my hands.”
This young woman, unfortunately, discovered that the heaviest burden one may have to bear in this life is “the burden of sin.” (Harold B. Lee, “Stand Ye in Holy Places,” Ensign, July 1973, p. 122.)