Gospel Story Finder

“I didn’t take Young Women very seriously for a while as a teenager. But one day I saw my mom (who was a Young Women leader) working on projects for the youth program. I remember feeling so inspired by her example to progress spiritually, so I tried to change my attitude.
“I started truly learning what the gospel of Jesus Christ meant for my life. Over the years, I felt a witness that the gospel of Jesus Christ is true. Even when life was hard as I was figuring out my life after my teenage years, as I kept holding onto those things I knew were true as a young woman, I had so many spiritual experiences that have made my testimony what it is today.”
Sundae I., Misamis Oriental, Philippines

Such a long absence seemed impossible now that I was home. Behind me was a year spent in Brazil as an exchange student. And here was Marcia, as pretty, smart, and fun to be with as ever. A year away at college had agreed with her, and I was glad we would have a few weeks together before she returned to BYU.
“What do you have in this suitcase?” Marcia grunted as we swung the enormous case onto my bed.
“Brazilian candy and a soda called Guarana. You’ll love it. Also, I brought some goiabada. I want to cook some Brazilian foods.”
“Are you telling me this thing is full of food?”
“Hardly. I’ve got tons of pictures, and some music, and …” I snapped the locks up, “presents for my friends!” I flipped the case open and began rummaging for Marcia’s gift.
“Jessica.” Something in Marcia’s voice startled me. Looking up I saw she was holding a Book of Mormon. “Where did you get this?”
I took the book gently from her hand and rubbed my thumb over the gold-embossed title. At the airport Marcia had remarked on the changes she saw in me. I was deeply tanned—a true first for my fair and freckled skin. My hairstyle and clothes had taken on a distinctly Brazilian quality, and I was having trouble completing sentences entirely in English. But the changes she hadn’t yet detected were lasting changes. I’d kept this information close to my heart, waiting for the right moment to share it with her. This was my biggest surprise.
“There’s something I haven’t told you,” I said, tears stinging my eyes. “I was baptized three weeks ago on July 10th.”
I was unprepared for her scream. She fell back on the bed and screamed a second time. She jumped up and, with tears streaming down her face, grabbed me. Hugging, laughing, and crying we spun together in circles.

My dad, my brother, and I were hired to clean an apartment. While we were cleaning, I found a video game. I was excited because I had just gotten a new video game player. I took the game home with me. Later that night my dad’s friend came over, and I told him about the game I found. He warned me that it showed bad pictures. I got the game, broke it in half, and threw it away because President Gordon B. Hinckley has told us not to listen to or watch these things. I felt the Holy Ghost, and I knew I had done the right thing.

When I was young, I always wanted everyone to feel included. If children on the playground were being picked on, I wanted to be their friend. I remember befriending one girl other children were mean to. Years later, after I was married, she was my neighbor. When I saw her, we happily greeted one another. I thought, “Look at her now. She’s a wonderful mother who serves well and works hard to teach her children.” I am so glad that when I was little I was nice to her. Then when I saw her again, I didn’t have any regrets. We were still friends.

Friends who don’t share your standards could actually weaken and tear your standards down. When I first moved to my new school, I tried to fit in by saying some of the things people around me would say. I almost forgot some of my standards while trying to be like everyone. I know now that in order to build your standards, you need friends who support and share your standards. I’m grateful I eventually found friends like that because they remind me of my standards.
Logan J., 15, Utah, USA

Twelve-year-old Louisa Bishop gently rocked her baby sister, Emma, in the old, hand-carved rocker. Their mother lay in bed, her face almost as pale as the white pillows. A deadly illness called diphtheria had struck the children of the family, killing three of Louisa’s five siblings. Exhausted from overwork and grief, Louisa’s mother also became sick. Just when it seemed that happiness would never shine on their world again, little Emma had been born. Louisa, now recovered, lovingly cared for her baby sister so their mother could rest and get well. Emma adored her big sister in return.
As the years passed, Emma and Louisa became closer and closer friends. By the time Emma was 11 years old, Louisa had married, and her husband had left to serve a mission in England. Emma was delighted to go to Louisa’s cabin each day to help out.
One day Emma paused in her sweeping and watched quietly as Louisa emptied the butter out of her sparkling glass butter dish and into a jar. “I hope she isn’t doing what I’m afraid she’s doing,” Emma thought.
Louisa stepped to the washbasin and poured in some clean water from the pitcher. Then she carefully washed the butter dish and laid it on a dish towel to dry. Turning to Emma, she handed her the jar of butter. “Now, Emma dear, I need you to take this to the bishop and pay my tithing.”
Emma folded her arms and shook her head. “I won’t do it!” she exclaimed. “You need that butter more than the bishop does.”
Louisa’s mouth drew into a stern line, but her eyes twinkled with amusement. “Emma,” she softly scolded, “tithing is a law that must be kept. If I am willing to do a big thing like letting my husband serve a mission so far away, then surely I can do a small thing like giving up some butter.”
Emma wasn’t convinced. “But it’s a big thing when you have so little.”
“Don’t worry,” Louisa told her with a smile. “I have faith that the Lord will provide.”
Emma looked closely and saw that her sister’s eyes were glistening with tears. Louisa truly believed what she was saying! Emma took the jar of butter and walked out the door without another word, though she still had doubts.
When she returned to Louisa’s cabin, Emma stopped in the doorway and stared, her mouth wide open. The butter dish was back on the table, and inside was a pound of butter! Emma’s eyes asked the question her lips could not—where had the butter come from?
Louisa smiled. “I told you the Lord would provide,” she said. She took a clean dish from the cupboard and placed the butter in it. Then she stepped again to the washbasin and filled the bowl with clean water. She washed out the beautiful glass butter dish and lid. But instead of setting them on a dish towel to drip dry, she dried them and handed both to Emma.
“I want you to have these,” she said. “And whenever you look at them, I want you to remember that the Lord will always take care of us if we keep His commandments. Remember that, Emma. Tithing comes first.” Emma’s eyes misted with tears as she accepted the butter dish.
All her life Emma remembered the lesson she had learned. Each year as her family gathered on her birthday, she told the story again. After Emma’s death, the butter dish was passed down through the family. And everyone who saw the dish heard the story of how Emma learned to always pay her tithing.

Seventeen-year-old computer whiz Doug Johnson is clicking away at a keyboard. His eyes are scanning a blur of codes that flicker across the computer screen. Doug begins to talk, but the clicking continues. His hands have a life of their own. They move from the mouse to the keyboard and back again with hypnotic speed.
“The computer won’t do anything you don’t tell it to,” says Doug, a high school senior in Houston, Texas, who is making a name for himself in the field of computer programming. “I find a lot of people are actually scared of the machines.” He stops working for a moment, thinks about that, then resumes clicking.
Sitting at the computer, this quiet young man has probably never been afraid. He faces each project like he faces life—by keeping long-range goals in mind and sticking to what he knows is right. It’s a policy that has given him success in the business side of computers, and in the other aspects of his world.
On the business side of things Doug has done very well. His expertise on the computer has made him somewhat of a celebrity in Houston. Local TV stations and newspapers find this young man appealing. Doug is good news, and his story is intriguing.
He began working as a computer programmer for area businesses when he was only 14. At that same age he started writing his own intricate telecommunications software (it allows computers anywhere in the world to share information). The program has sold through mail-order around the country and is now being considered by a national publisher.
Doug doesn’t mind the publicity his computer skill brings, but the stories usually tag him as a genius, and Doug says he’s not that.
“They blow it out of proportion. I’m not a computer genius. I was able to get to this point in my life much earlier than most people because I grew up with computers and I’ve had the experience. I’m a pretty simple person. The only unique thing is I have this adult programmer trapped inside.”
That adult programmer began emerging at an early age. According to his mother, Marian, Doug learned how to use a screwdriver at two and started taking apart anything he could get his hands on. “Including an attempt at his dad’s car,” Marian said. “The problem was he couldn’t always put the things he took apart back together.”
By five Doug put down the screwdriver in favor of the Johnson’s home computer. His father, Lynn, also a computer programmer, showed him how to get going, but Doug needed little direction. Over the years Lynn kept his eye on his son and began to show him how he could use his interest and talent. Doug’s first job in programming was with his dad. When he was 12, Doug wrote a complex system for a major law firm while his dad installed the computer hardware.
At 14 Doug was writing his own software and had formed his own computer company, Maximum Output Software, to market and sell his products. At an age when most young people are only thinking about getting a part-time job, Doug was writing his own software and doing programming work for engineering and shipping/receiving firms.
One of his clients, Angelo Mourino, the owner of a Houston air freight company, said he hired three other professional, adult programmers before Doug. None of them could do the job he needed. Word had surfaced about this 14-year-old whiz kid. Angelo said he was skeptical, but ready to try anything.
“One guy I had hired before Doug had taken six months just to figure out he couldn’t do the job,” Angelo said. “Doug finished the project in about two or three weeks.” While going to high school!
At 17 Doug has a long list of credits behind him which include captaining his high school computer team to top awards in state competitions, serving as the president of a prominent Houston computer club (Doug is also the youngest of the 100-plus members), maintaining a 4.0 GPA in his schoolwork. The list goes on.
But, as Doug is quick to point out, there’s more to him than computers and an aptitude at schoolwork. He’s just a normal LDS kid and with normal outside interests. He’s working on his Eagle Scout Award. He likes music and works occasionally as a deejay at stake dances in Houston and, with a friend, writes funny rap songs about the Church. He has attended early-morning seminary for three years and will graduate this spring.
And he has some normal 17-year-old challenges. He’s shy and has trouble meeting people; he’s shorter than average and isn’t too good in sports; and, believe it or not, he’s a procrastinator.
But he faces those challenges, and others, like he faces the computer—by again keeping his goals in mind and doing what he knows is right. When friends invite him to drinking parties, he turns the invitations down and explains why he doesn’t want to go. When he is asked tough questions about his religion, Doug answers with faith and a solid understanding of the scriptures he has gained through church and seminary study. If people try to get him to use his computer knowledge for illegal gain, he refuses without hesitation.
He thanks his family and the Church for keeping him on the right path.
“The gospel has kept me away from drugs and alcohol, but it has also given me a direction. When I leave home I know how I should live, how I should raise a family. The computer can’t be everything. I’d like to be successful at it, but I won’t ever do anything illegal.”
Brent Rawson, Doug’s bishop in the Champion’s Ward of the Cypress Texas Stake, said he recently called Doug as the ward computer specialist and had him devise a computer program that would allow the bishopric to keep track of members, ward callings (and how long each person has been serving), home and visiting teaching, who spoke in sacrament meeting (and when), and so on. Bishop Rawson can now review, within seconds, any detail of his ward’s business.
“He has been a big help to me,” Bishop Rawson said. “A calling like this needs great maturity and he has that, along with lots of leadership ability. From a bishop’s point of view he is a very spiritual young man with a lot of potential.”
Also, Doug’s computer skills have helped him in other aspects of his Church development. Half of all his earnings go into savings for his mission and for four years at Brigham Young University, where he plans to further his computer programming studies. Plus, Doug hopes that his computer company will one day be productive enough to allow him to support a family.
The clicking has stopped. Whatever Doug was working on is finished. He shows you what he’s created, but his manner is matter-of-fact. After all, as Doug will tell you, it doesn’t take a genius to do this. The computer does what it’s told. Doug tries to do the same—live the principles he’s been taught, do what his parents and church leaders advise.
As Doug Johnson will tell you—life, and computers, can be simple if you have the right attitude.

It was Saturday, and there was work to do at my law office. But as stake president, I had committed to attend a service project with our stake Relief Society sisters. The sisters would be visiting sick children and expectant mothers in the Sergio Bernales de Collique-Comas Hospital in Lima, Peru. They would lend spiritual support, as well as deliver quilts and toys they had made during the year.
As I left behind everything else I had to do and headed for the hospital, the words of the first of many scriptures I thought of that day came to me: “When saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matt. 25:39–40).
A warm, peaceful feeling flooded my heart, and I knew this would be a special experience. The Spirit also whispered to me that the Lord had called me as stake president to love and help others—especially the sick and afflicted. Throughout the day, thoughts of our Savior and His compassionate ministrations were never far from my mind. In our small way, we labored to be like Him.
When I arrived at the hospital, I was greeted by the 60 warmest hearts and the 60 warmest smiles I had ever seen. And as the Relief Society sisters entered the hospital, I watched this sad and gloomy place begin to be filled with light and joy.
“It came to pass that Jesus blessed them … , and the light of his countenance did shine upon them” (3 Ne. 19:25).
When our visit was over, I felt that each of those who had visited the hospital that day was a new person. As I saw the beautiful smiles on the sisters’ faces, I realized that when we give care and service to our fellow beings, we feel the true joy that comes from serving God.
“If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them” (John 13:17).

“We’re glad you could stay with us tonight. This is the coldest night I can remember in Illinois,” Sarah Ann said, taking a seat at the table across from Mr. James. “Our family moved here from New York after Father died. He and Mother left Norway to escape those who wanted to punish them for being Quakers. When they arrived in America, Father worked hard to build a house.”
As Sarah Ann told the story, she could almost smell the fresh-cut maple wood again.
“One day, our home caught fire, and everything was destroyed. When Father returned from work and saw us standing in the street, he asked Mother if we were safe. She answered yes, and Father knelt down right there in the middle of the street and thanked God for protecting us.”
“Your father must have had a lot of faith in God,” Mr. James said.
Sarah Ann nodded, wishing her father were still with them.
Soon their visitor said good night and went to bed. Mother reached for his worn socks, which had been drying by the fire, so she could mend the many holes. This was a scene Sarah Ann had witnessed a hundred times. She kissed Mother on the cheek and went to bed.
When Sarah Ann awoke the next morning, Mr. James was gone. But the house was not quiet. There was a large crowd gathered in the road outside, and Sarah Ann leaned out the window to hear what was happening.
Two men were standing in the middle of the crowd. Sarah Ann recognized them as the Mormon missionaries who had arrived in the village last week. It was obvious that whatever they were talking about was important to them.
One of the men held up a book and said, “We testify that the Book of Mormon is true. We also testify that there is a living prophet once again on the earth.”
Sarah Ann suddenly felt a warm feeling fill her heart. It surprised her. She knew in that moment that what the missionaries were teaching was true.
Sarah Ann rushed to tell Mother about the experience and her desire to be baptized. Some of Mother’s friends were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and even though they were good people, Sarah Ann could tell that Mother didn’t want her to be baptized.
“Sarah Ann, this is a big decision. If you still feel the same way when you are older, then you may be baptized,” Mother said.
Sarah Ann agreed. Over the next three years, she learned all she could about the Church. As she did, her faith in Jesus Christ and His restored gospel grew. No amount of time could take away what Sarah Ann felt about the gospel.
Finally, Sarah Ann was baptized. On her baptism day, Sarah Ann made a promise in her heart that she would always do whatever Heavenly Father asked her to do. She was about to find out what that would be.

A few weeks ago, I flew to New York City to meet a new granddaughter. As my daughter and her husband met me at the door with their little three-day-old infant, there was an obvious radiance in that apartment. As they placed Hannah, who will be named after my mother, in my arms, she looked like a curled-up little doll with lots of dark hair. Within a few days, Hannah was stretching out her long legs and her long, thin feet, and I started to think of all of the things she will experience as she starts growing up. Perhaps she’ll have some of the same fears that I had—like being afraid to be alone in the dark at age six or seven. At age thirteen or fourteen, she may be sure, as I was, that there will never be boys as tall as she is. That concern was increased for me the following year when I became convinced that a person with feet as large as mine would surely never marry.
In infancy, little Hannah responds to food when hungry. She responds to gentle voices and dry diapers. It will be some time before she realizes that her mother is reading the scriptures to her while she feeds her. It will be many, many months before she knows why heads are bowed and prayers are spoken at the dinner table. Yet her faith will begin to take root in this trusting environment. A little child can learn to respond to good feelings, but you are learning to take responsibility for your faith.

Sometimes we have so many ideas and thoughts to share that we give in to the temptation to tell a lot of stories that have nothing in common. While they may all be effective if given at the proper time, their value is lost when given with many other unrelated stories. This results in the following situation:
A Nebraska farmer stepped into the town hall to hear the visiting speaker. The talk went on so long, however, that he sauntered outside for a bit of fresh air. A neighbor passing by asked, “Jim, what is he talkin’ about?”
“I don’t know,” came the reply. “He ain’t said.”

J: First let me illustrate the concept of lateral leadership with a true story I heard several years ago from an older admired colleague and former teacher at BYU, Todd Britsch:

Brother Britsch’s friend Bob Despain spent several years at Cal Tech in California before transferring to BYU. Bob said this of his experience there: “Most of the students at Cal Tech lived in what they called "houses" (or dorms). The residents in the houses were distributed evenly between the classes or age groups. Very early in the fall the upper-class residents gathered the freshmen together to orient them to the university. A number of topics, important and trivial, were covered. The house president then addressed academic honesty. He said something like the following: ‘You may have heard that you can be given probation or even be expelled if you are found cheating on your tests or homework, but I wouldn't worry about that.’ At that moment, there were knowing snickers from the freshmen. Then the house president continued, ‘Because if any of us find out about you cheating, we will make your life so miserable that you will gladly rush away from here.’ Nothing more was said. Everyone understood that students at Cal Tech were not going to tolerate anyone cheating them out of honest test and assignment results.” Bob concluded this story by saying, “I never observed dishonesty during my years there.”

Consider what you might do if placed in this situation. Early one morning, one of our senior couples serving in South Africa was awakened by a loud knocking at his door. Upon answering the door Elder Packer found two uniformed, armed policemen. They instructed him to dress and that he needed to come with them. They arrested him and placed him in a holding cell with all of the men who had been arrested that night. Some were intoxicated; some had committed robberies and many other offenses. He remained in the cell some nine hours and amazingly was not accosted or hurt. While in the cell, he asked himself, "Why would the Lord allow me to be placed here? He must have something in mind." He decided to discover the reason, and so he began speaking with the men. He even persuaded some to begin singing a few hymns with him. He realized, though innocent, there was an opportunity to stop worrying about himself and begin worrying about those around him. In other words, he put the needs of others ahead of his own.
As the day concluded, the missionary was being called "Elder" by the prisoners. They not only sang the hymns but they defended the missionary from less-than-honorable jail mates. He befriended several who were as innocent as he was. Many were blessed by the Lord through Elder Packer's sacrifice; and Elder Packer was lifted to a new level of understanding and vision of how the Lord can use him, even in prison. Forgetting his own discomforts, he placed others ahead of his feelings and fears.

I can’t wait to be a deacon. Ever since I was little, I’ve watched with envy as the older boys passed the sacrament. It’s an important job, and they always seem to know just where to go when they pass the sacrament. Now it’s my turn. My twelfth birthday is this week, and I’ve been learning about the priesthood in Blazer class. I’ve been dreaming about passing the sacrament myself. I wonder if I’ll get to pass it to the bishop?

My Blazer teacher had told us that we would be interviewed by the bishop before we could be ordained. This would be my second interview—he had already interviewed me when I was going to get baptized. But I’ve lived half my life again since then!

I like my bishop. I see him every Sunday, and he knows my name. Sometimes he says hi. But I still worried about that interview. Did I know enough to be a deacon? Would he ask me about things I keep secret? Could I share my secrets with him? If I did, would he keep them secret?

Friday after dinner the bishop’s secretary called and said the bishop wanted to see me after my Blazer class on Sunday. I said OK, but I was nervous. In my mind I went over everything I thought that he might ask me. I began to remember all the things that happened this year. Some of them I wished hadn’t happened.

Sunday after class I headed for the Bishop’s office. What a busy place! I thought. Everybody wants to see him. I think I’ll go home and come another day.

But he saw me. “Hello there, Bobby,” he called. “Come in and sit down, please. Excuse me just one moment.” He stepped out into the hall to talk to someone about something. I wondered what they were talking about. I looked around his office. He had a big chair and a desk, a picture of the Savior, and a picture of President Benson. I saw the scriptures on his desk. They sure were ragged. I wondered what it would be like to be a bishop.

The door opened, and the Bishop came back in and sat next to me. He shook my hand. “Thank you for coming to see me,” he said. “You’re almost twelve, the age at which we normally confer the Aaronic Priesthood and ordain boys as deacons. I’ve talked with your father, and he also felt that you and I should have this interview. Tell me what you know and how you feel about the priesthood.”

Oh no, I thought. What shall I tell him? He probably knows everything about the priesthood. I started by telling him some things from Blazer class and some things my mother had taught me. He didn’t interrupt, and once I got started, my nervousness went away.

When I finished, he said, “Very good. I can see that you’ve been paying attention and that you understand some important principles. There are some scriptures about the priesthood that I’d like to share with you. They’re some of my favorites.”

He turned first to section 20 of the Doctrine and Covenants [D&C 20]. We read from it and talked about the duties of a deacon. Then we read from section 84 [D&C 84] and talked about the covenant of the Aaronic priesthood. After that, he turned to what he said was his favorite scripture—section 121. We read from verse 34 [D&C 121:34] to the end of the section. He helped me understand what the promise in verse 38 [D&C 121:38] meant.

Then he looked me right in the eyes and asked if I was paying tithing. I thought about how hard it had been to start. I was sure happy that I could say I was a full tithe payer. I told him how good I felt when I paid my tithing.

Next he asked me if I ever smoked or drank alcoholic beverages or took drugs. I remembered the time my friends and I had tried a cigarette, and I didn’t want to say anything. I hadn’t even told my parents. I knew it was wrong when I’d done it, and I still felt bad about it. Something inside me said, “Speak up,” but I just couldn’t. My silence must have told the bishop I was wrestling with something, because he talked to me about keeping secrets. He called it “confidentiality.” He said that he would keep anything I told him a secret unless I gave him permission to share it with my parents. Then he waited.

It seemed like a long time while I figured out what words to use. I told him about smoking and how ashamed it made me feel. We talked about how it had happened and what I should do to repent. I didn’t tell him who I’d done it with, and he didn’t ask me to. He said that his knowing their names had nothing to do with my worthiness to receive the priesthood. We discussed the help my parents could give me, and I decided to tell them. A calm feeling came over me. I guess that’s what happens when you do something that you know is right.

When the bishop asked me if I was morally clean, I didn’t know what he meant, so I asked him. He explained about keeping my mind and body clean. We talked about how to do that. He explained that if I lived righteously, the power of the priesthood would always be with me.

He asked me to kneel with him and say a prayer, so I did. It was a short one. Then he prayed. He asked Heavenly Father to bless me, and that made me feel good. I knew that my bishop liked me.

I can hardly wait to tell Mom and Dad about my interview. They’ll be happy for me and will help me be a good, worthy bearer of the priesthood. Just think—next Sunday I’ll be presented in sacrament meeting by the bishop to be sustained to receive the Aaronic Priesthood and be ordained a deacon. Then after the block meetings, the ordinance will be performed. And the week after that I’ll pass the sacrament. I’m going to be reverent when I do and try to set a good example. Maybe some younger boys will be looking up to me.

Last spring, while I was visiting a class of young women, the teacher asked the class to write our 10 priorities. I quickly began to write. I have to admit, my first thought began with “Number 1: clean the pencil drawer in the kitchen.” When our lists were complete, the Young Women leader asked us to share what we had written. Abby, who had recently turned 12, was sitting next to me. This was Abby’s list:
Go to college.
Become an interior designer.
Go on a mission to India.
Get married in the temple to a returned missionary.
Have five kids and a home.
Send my kids on missions and to college.
Become a “cookie-giving” grandma.
Spoil the grandchildren.
Learn more about the gospel and enjoy life.
Return to live with Father in Heaven.
I say, “Thank you, Abby. You have taught me about having a vision of the plan Heavenly Father has for all of us. When you know you are walking a path, in spite of whatever detours may occur, you will be OK. When your path is focused on the ultimate goal—that of exaltation and returning to Heavenly Father, you will get there.”
Where did Abby get this sense of eternal purpose? It begins in our homes. It begins in our families. I asked her, “What do you do in your family to create such priorities?”
This was her answer: “Besides reading the scriptures, we are studying Preach My Gospel.” Then she added, “We talk a lot—at family home evening, at dinner together, and in the car while we drive.”
Nephi wrote: “We talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ.” Why? “That our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins” (2 Nephi 25:26).
Talking, listening, encouraging each other, and doing things together as a family will bring us closer to our Savior, who loves us. Our intentional effort to communicate better today—this very day—will bless our families eternally. I testify that when we talk of Christ, we also rejoice in Christ and in the gift of the Atonement. Our children will come to know “to what source they may look for a remission of their sins.”

When Hurricane Irma hit the Caribbean in September 2017, it caused widespread destruction to several islands. A Church member from the United States who wanted to help reached out to my husband, who was then serving as a stake president in Puerto Rico.
“I have a large boat that I’m going to bring to Puerto Rico so I can take food and supplies to the island of Tortuga,” he said. “I need your help gathering supplies.”
In response, we began gathering donations of food, clothing, and other items from Church members and others in Puerto Rico. We sent two boatloads to Tortuga and were preparing to send a third boatload of supplies, which we had gathered at the stake center for distribution. That’s when we learned that another storm, Hurricane Maria, was headed straight for Puerto Rico.
When Hurricane Maria made landfall, it devastated our island, killing thousands of people. For several days afterward, we couldn’t leave our neighborhood because of fallen trees, debris, and other destruction. At the stake center, however, we had a supply of food, water, clothes, and personal items—everything we needed for a natural disaster. We had gathered those things to help others, but they ended up blessing us instead.
The hurricane caused blackouts and knocked out the internet and cell phone service. While Puerto Rican authorities worked to respond, we had supplies that provided immediate help to many people.
When my husband could finally leave our home, he felt impressed to visit certain members of our stake. He found two sisters whose homes had been destroyed and who had lost everything.
“We can help you,” he said. “We have what you need. The stake center is full of supplies.”
As Church members and members of other faiths contacted my husband for help, we began receiving monetary gift cards from Church members in the United States that we distributed to the needy. The Church also mobilized humanitarian resources such as food, water, and other supplies to our island. For months, these donations enabled us to help countless Puerto Ricans.
As we worked to help our neighbors after Hurricane Irma, the Lord prepared a way for us to help ourselves after Hurricane Maria. As the Savior taught, “Give, and it shall be given unto you” (Luke 6:38).

At the solemn assembly during general conference when President Hinckley was sustained as the prophet by the Church membership, all the grandchildren stood at the appropriate times and raised their hands to sustain the new prophet.

“It was an amazing experience,” says Ada Hinckley, 16, “to raise your hand to the square and sustain the prophet, the President of the Church, who is also your grandpa. When they sing, ‘We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet,’ you are just kind of taken aback because they are singing about your grandfather.”

But Ada found that the very thing that helped a lot of young women in the Church also helped her gain a testimony of the prophet. She attended the general Young Women meeting before April conference where the theme was gaining a testimony of the prophet. “It helped me a lot to gain a testimony that he is a prophet and that he leads the Church. I know he does.”

I heard that many families from another country were fleeing for their safety. Some of them were moving to an area close by. Right away I thought, “How can I help them?”
I said a prayer to know how I could help. Then my mom got an email from the stake Relief Society. They were asking people to donate items to give to the refugee families. I knew my prayer was answered!
I love to bake (my specialty is cookies) so I decided to sell cookies to earn money for these families. I made fliers and rode my roller skates around the neighborhood to deliver them. My dog, Coco, came too.
Many of my neighbors were excited to buy my cookies. With the money I earned, I bought pots and pans to donate.
I felt good knowing these families would be able to cook using the pots and pans. I can only imagine how comforting a home-cooked meal would taste when you’re in a new country.
I learned in Primary that “when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God” (Mosiah 2:17). I felt Heavenly Father’s love for me and for the people moving to my area.

A few months ago, I sent a simple note of appreciation to a colleague who was under great pressure to meet significant deadlines. In response to my note, this colleague replied, “You must have been feeling the Spirit today, because I really needed to hear those words. You have no idea how they touched my heart and will keep me moving forward.” Coincidence? No. The Lord knew what was needed, and I am grateful to have helped Him bless another by acting on an impression to speak kind words.

I heard a story this week that illustrates this well. It concerns a visiting pastor who attended a breakfast in the middle of a rural farming area. The group had asked an older farmer, decked out in bib overalls, to say grace for the morning breakfast.

“Lord,” the farmer began the prayer, “I hate buttermilk.”

The visiting pastor opened one eye to glance at the farmer and wondered where this was going.

The farmer then loudly proclaimed, “Lord, I hate lard.”

Now the pastor was growing concerned.

Without missing a beat, the farmer continued, “And Lord, you know I don’t much care for raw white flour.”

The pastor once again opened an eye to glance around the room and saw that he wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable.

Then the farmer added, “But Lord, when you mix them all together and bake them, I do love warm, fresh biscuits. So, Lord, when things come up that we don’t like, when we don’t understand what You’re saying to us, help us to just relax and wait until You are done mixing. It will probably be even better than biscuits.” He then said amen.

When we find ourselves frustrated by events, by actions of others, or even by our own actions, let us remember that if we trust God and His goodness, things will work out in the end—even if the individual ingredients are not initially very appealing to us.