Gospel Story Finder

When I was a teenager, I developed faith that marriage could be a wonderful and eternal experience. It was difficult for me to always believe, however, because the examples of marriage I had growing up were not strong ones, and I kept a fear of marriage in my heart. But I determined that failure and unhappiness didn’t have to be the rule and that Heavenly Father would help me know how to have a happy marriage.
When I was 26 years old, I married Sidnei in the São Paulo Brazil Temple. While we were still dating, we tried to prepare ourselves spiritually and emotionally for the most significant event of our lives. We decided what type of marriage we wanted, we established goals together, and we shared our thoughts—our testimonies of the gospel, our wishes and worries, and our dreams. We also read together the counsel of the prophets on marriage. We did everything we could to prepare, wishing to provide happiness and security to each other and our future children. We asked the Lord to give us wisdom to live a happy life.
Now we have been married for 18 years. During these years, we have continued to learn from the precepts of the gospel, the counsel of our leaders, and, of course, the Spirit. Some of the things we have done to have a strong, happy marriage are:
Pray together every day. When we pray at night, we thank Heavenly Father for our marriage, for the love we have for each other, and we ask that our feelings will be strengthened and that we can become strong individually in the face of the designs of the adversary, who works to destroy families.
Ask for forgiveness. We work to never allow pride to keep us from asking for forgiveness or admitting we are wrong. Love and unity are more important than who is right or who is wrong.
Never speak evil of each other. It is obvious that neither of us is perfect, but we don’t say bad things about each other, and when we’re with others, we speak positively about each other.
Defend the institution of marriage. Whenever we have a chance—and especially if we are around people who are criticizing the institution of marriage—we stand up for families and what we believe in.
Talk a lot and listen. We stop what we are doing to really listen when the other person is talking.
Treat each other with love and consideration. We do not insult, accuse, or criticize each other.
Continue to seek help and counsel about marriage from the scriptures and the words of modern prophets. We do not know everything. We are imperfect and prone to forgetting and making mistakes. We prefer not to wait for problems to afflict us, but instead we work to build a strong marriage before a situation can hurt us.
These things have been instrumental in strengthening the relationship between my husband and me. I know that if we share our lives and our feelings with Heavenly Father and seek counsel from Him, the Holy Ghost will inspire us and we will be able to become an eternal family, overcoming all difficult times. We also know that Heavenly Father will help us as we seek to know and do His will.

When I was young, my grandma often had get-togethers for my cousins and me. There were about 14 of us, and we were always excited when Grandma invited us over for dinners, sleepovers, game nights, and holidays. Grandma’s house was the place to be!
Every activity at Grandma’s house was fun. But I never thought about all of the time and work that went into each activity. I just thought that was what grandmas did, and I loved it!
After years of fun cousin memories at Grandma’s house, our family moved away. Later my grandma came to spend a special day with us in our new home. My family thought long and hard to find the perfect gift for her. She has more stuff than anyone I know. What could we get the grandma who has everything?
I asked my dad for ideas, and he told me the same thing he says every year: “Why don’t you write her a really nice letter?” I was out of ideas, and so early the next morning, before anyone else was awake, I sat at the kitchen table with my feet on the cold tile and wrote my grandma a special letter.
At first I wondered what I could write besides, “You are so wonderful. Thanks for everything.” As I looked out the kitchen window at the palm trees and the sky, I thought of the many things Grandma had done for us over the years. I remembered that I had never told my grandma how much those times spent together as a family meant to me.
In my letter, I told my grandma that I love her, and I thanked her for all of the special memories. I let her know how important they still were to me, even years later. Then I put the letter in an envelope, tied it with a red ribbon, and went back into my warm, carpeted room.
When the time came to give Grandma her gifts, I slowly pulled out my letter. I didn’t know how to feel about my gift to her.
She looked surprised when I gave her the envelope. I watched closely as she carefully tore off the end of the envelope and pulled out the letter on narrow pink paper. As she read it, she started to smile and tears filled her eyes. I had never seen my grandma cry before. She slowly looked up and turned toward me with warm, brown eyes. She whispered, “Thank you, thank you. I didn’t think anyone remembered.”
Grandma, who had done so much to build strong family relationships, had no idea that I remembered or was grateful for those times together. She wiped her eyes and said, “Kimberly, thank you. That was the best present anyone could ever give me.”
I gave Grandma a big hug, feeling her soft skin against my cheek and smelling her “grandma” smell that was a mix of baby powder and musk. I was so grateful for my dad’s idea to write her a letter. I didn’t know that words of gratitude and love would mean more to my grandma than all of the knickknacks, perfume, and fruitcakes that money could buy.

“I have something in my pocket,” Katy told Stan, the school bus driver. She was wearing a new flowered jumpsuit, with extra deep pockets.
“Is it a shiny new quarter?” asked Stan.
“No. I have three quarters, but they’re all at home. I’ll tell you what’s in my pocket on the way home.”
Katy took her seat next to her best friend, Lucy. “I have something in my pocket,” Katy told Lucy.
“Is it candy?” asked Lucy.
“No,” said Katy, “but I brought two cookies in my lunch, so I could share one with you.” Katy and Lucy smiled happily at each other and compared lunches all the way to school.
“I have something in my pocket,” Katy told Mrs. Raker, her teacher.
“Is it a fresh, new pencil?” asked Mrs. Raker.
“No. I have a new pencil, but it’s in my schoolbag.” Katy sat down and put her new pencil in her desk.
At recess, Katy told her classmates, “I have something in my pocket.”
“Is it a ball?”
“Is it a ring?”
“Is it a bug?”
“No, no, no.” Katy smiled mysteriously and reached into her pocket to touch her surprise.
“Is it a hole?”
Everyone laughed. “No,” Katy said, “I don’t have a hole in my pocket.”
“I know—it’s your hand!”
Katy laughed again, because she had just pulled her hand out of her pocket. “No, it’s not my hand.”
“Tell us what’s in your pocket, Katy?”
“I’ll tell you right after school.”
The rest of the day, Katy’s friends wondered what was in her pocket. They peeked at her from behind their books, and giggled at their guesses.
Just before the bell, Lucy raised her hand.
“Yes, Lucy?” said Mrs. Raker.
“May we have a minute to find out what Katy has in her pocket, please?”
“Yes, Lucy. Katy, what do you have in your pocket today?”
“I have a party in my pocket!”
“A party!”
“A party?”
“How can you carry a party in your pocket?”
Katy drew a folded piece of paper from her pocket. “I’m having a birthday party next Saturday, and this invitation is for all of you—Mrs. Raker and Stan-the-bus-driver too. That’s what I was carrying in my pocket.”
The class cheered as Katy tacked her party invitation on the bulletin board. “Hurray! Hurray for Katy’s pocket!”

Chris is keenly aware that, as the oldest, he is setting an example for his six young brothers. He has been offered scholarships to play football at several big-name universities. But they want him to commit to at least one year of college before leaving on his mission. Since Chris turns 19 soon after he would start college, he refuses to postpone his mission and has turned down the scholarships. He has faith that he’ll be able to regain a scholarship when he gets back. His parents were introduced to the gospel by missionaries when he was a baby, and his entire life he has anxiously looked forward to serving.
Editor’s Note: Since this article was written, Chris received his mission call and is serving in the Lithuania Vilnius Mission.

One day I was sitting in the kitchen, thinking about all of the areas in my life in which I wanted to improve: family history research, regular exercise, time with my children, home organization—the list was long. The more I thought, the longer the list seemed to get. Where should I start? I wondered.
I decided to group the list into categories: (1) prayer, scripture study, and journal-keeping; (2) homemaking, laundry, and meal-planning; (3) personal fitness; (4) family activities and time with my children; and (5) books of remembrance, personal histories, and family history research.
Feeling overwhelmed, I asked my husband, Dan, who was standing at the sink, for his opinion. I handed the list to him and asked if he would number the categories in order, starting with the most important.
He didn’t have to look at the list for long before he handed it back, with a big smile on his face. He had numbered the categories, but he had started with number two. At the bottom of the page he had written, “#1. Be nice to Dan.”
We laughed and hugged, and the sun broke out. That number one I could do! I was no longer worried about accomplishing so many things at once. That list became a lifelong reminder, tucked into my book of remembrance, to help me remember his premium priority in my life.

Ever since Tavita was 11, it was his dream to serve a mission—and nothing was going to stand in his way. He loved to sit and listen to returned missionaries share their spiritual experiences, and each day he grew more determined that he too would serve. By the time Tavita was a college freshman, preparing to sign scholarship agreements to play football at the University of Hawaii at Manoa, he made sure he could leave for two years to serve the Lord.
After serving an honorable mission, Tavita returned to his spot on the Hawaii roster and this fall will suit up as offensive guard.

My family and I were on our way to attend my dad’s high school class reunion in Park City, Montana, when the accident happened.
Halfway to Park City, my parents decided to stop and camp for the night. My dad asked my two older brothers, Bob and Dan, to gather wood and start a fire. He gave each of them a couple of matches. When Dan scraped his match against a stone, the flaming tip broke off and hit his eye, burning it badly before bouncing away. He cried out in terrible pain. My dad tried to comfort him, and my mom held ice on his eye to stop the burning.
When my brother had calmed down, my parents looked at his eye. Their worst fears were confirmed when they saw that the color of Dan’s eye was no longer brown, but completely white. They covered his eye and made him as comfortable as possible.
We climbed into the car and headed for Helena, the nearest town, where my brother was immediately taken to an eye specialist. After the exam, the specialist told my parents that Dan was blind in the damaged eye.
He gave Dan some medicine to put in his eye and a patch to keep the eye clean and protected. He told my parents to go to the class reunion and then bring Dan in for another exam on the way home.
After we received the bad news, my dad gathered us together and announced that our family would fast the next 24 hours for Dan’s full recovery. The day went by quickly as we concentrated on Dan and his need for comfort and healing. I believed that whatever the outcome, the Lord loved Dan and would help him.
My dad had tears streaming down his face when he gave Dan a priesthood blessing. It was the most beautiful blessing of healing I have ever heard. My dad told Dan that the Lord loved him and had many things for him to do in this life. He also told him he would need both of his eyes to complete his mission on earth, that his eye would heal, and that his vision would be fully restored. During the blessing, we all felt the Spirit and knew that God was mindful of us, especially of my brother during this trial.
When we returned to Helena, the eye specialist invited us into his examination room, where he again looked at Dan’s injured eye. He asked my parents if they were sure that this eye was the injured one. He said the eye he examined had to be the wrong eye because it was perfectly normal. Perplexed, he then checked Dan’s other eye. It, too, was normal. The specialist told my parents that it was impossible for an eye to heal like that. He had no explanation for it.
But we knew what had happened. The power of the priesthood, coupled with fervent prayer, faith, fasting, and an acceptance of the Lord’s will, had brought down the blessings of heaven.

During the mid-20s when his first daughter was born, Brigham farmed in the summer, pursued his various handskills in the winter, was even employed for a while in a woolen mill and also a paint factory, where he used the cannonball his father had carried home with him from the Revolutionary War to grind the paint. Elder S. Dilworth Young reports a family tradition that Brigham invented an ingenious “water-powered pigment crusher,” with the cannonball “as the pestle to an iron pot mortar,” thus saving a good deal of work and time.17 However, he found that to succeed as a painter in the area where he lived, he would have to adulterate the linseed oil like his competitors. Unwilling to do so, he moved to Oswego, on Lake Ontario, and built a large tannery and then to Mendon, where he had his own carpentry shop. There a second daughter was born.

Brothers and sisters, when we met in general conference six months ago, none of us anticipated the coming changes that would tug at the heartstrings of the entire Church. Elder L. Tom Perry delivered a powerful message about the irreplaceable role that marriage and family occupy in the Lord’s plan. We were stunned when just a few days later, we learned of the cancer that would soon take him from us.

Though President Boyd K. Packer’s health had been declining, he continued to “soldier on” in the work of the Lord. He was frail last April, yet he was determined to declare his witness as long as he had breath. Then, just 34 days after Elder Perry’s passing, President Packer also stepped across the veil.

We missed Elder Richard G. Scott at our last general conference, but we’ve reflected upon the powerful witness of the Savior he had borne in many previous conferences. And just 12 days ago, Elder Scott was called home and reunited with his beloved Jeanene.

I had the privilege of being with all of these Brethren during their final days, including joining members of President Packer’s and Elder Scott’s immediate families just before their passing. It has been difficult for me to believe that these three treasured friends, these magnificent servants of the Lord, are gone. I miss them more than I can say.

As I’ve reflected on this unexpected turn of events, one of the impressions that has lingered with me is that which I observed in these surviving wives. Etched in my mind are the serene images of Sister Donna Smith Packer and Sister Barbara Dayton Perry at their husbands’ bedsides, both women filled with love, truth, and pure faith.

As Sister Packer sat next to her husband in his final hours, she radiated that peace that passes all understanding. Though she realized that her beloved companion of almost 70 years would soon depart, she showed the tranquility of a faith-filled woman. She seemed angelic, just as she was in this photo of them at the dedication of the Brigham City Utah Temple.

I saw that same kind of love and faith emanating from Sister Perry. Her devotion to both her husband and the Lord was obvious, and it moved me deeply.

Through their husbands’ final hours and continuing to the present day, these stalwart women have shown the strength and courage that covenant-keeping women always demonstrate. It would be impossible to measure the influence that such women have, not only on families but also on the Lord’s Church, as wives, mothers, and grandmothers; as sisters and aunts; as teachers and leaders; and especially as exemplars and devout defenders of the faith.

This has been true in every gospel dispensation since the days of Adam and Eve. Yet the women of this dispensation are distinct from the women of any other because this dispensation is distinct from any other. This distinction brings both privileges and responsibilities.

Thirty-six years ago, in 1979, President Spencer W. Kimball made a profound prophecy about the impact that covenant-keeping women would have on the future of the Lord’s Church. He prophesied: “Much of the major growth that is coming to the Church in the last days will come because many of the good women of the world … will be drawn to the Church in large numbers. This will happen to the degree that the women of the Church reflect righteousness and articulateness in their lives and to the degree that the women of the Church are seen as distinct and different—in happy ways—from the women of the world.”

My dear sisters, you who are our vital associates during this winding-up scene, the day that President Kimball foresaw is today. You are the women he foresaw! Your virtue, light, love, knowledge, courage, character, faith, and righteous lives will draw good women of the world, along with their families, to the Church in unprecedented numbers!

We, your brethren, need your strength, your conversion, your conviction, your ability to lead, your wisdom, and your voices. The kingdom of God is not and cannot be complete without women who make sacred covenants and then keep them, women who can speak with the power and authority of God!

President Packer declared:
“We need women who are organized and women who can organize. We need women with executive ability who can plan and direct and administer; women who can teach, women who can speak out. …

“We need women with the gift of discernment who can view the trends in the world and detect those that, however popular, are shallow or dangerous.”

Today, let me add that we need women who know how to make important things happen by their faith and who are courageous defenders of morality and families in a sin-sick world. We need women who are devoted to shepherding God’s children along the covenant path toward exaltation; women who know how to receive personal revelation, who understand the power and peace of the temple endowment; women who know how to call upon the powers of heaven to protect and strengthen children and families; women who teach fearlessly.

Throughout my life, I have been blessed by such women. My departed wife, Dantzel, was such a woman. I will always be grateful for the life-changing influence she had on me in all aspects of my life, including my pioneering efforts in open-heart surgery.

Fifty-eight years ago I was asked to operate upon a little girl, gravely ill from congenital heart disease. Her older brother had previously died of a similar condition. Her parents pleaded for help. I was not optimistic about the outcome but vowed to do all in my power to save her life. Despite my best efforts, the child died. Later, the same parents brought another daughter to me, then just 16 months old, also born with a malformed heart. Again, at their request, I performed an operation. This child also died. This third heartbreaking loss in one family literally undid me.

I went home grief stricken. I threw myself upon our living room floor and cried all night long. Dantzel stayed by my side, listening as I repeatedly declared that I would never perform another heart operation. Then, around 5:00 in the morning, Dantzel looked at me and lovingly asked, “Are you finished crying? Then get dressed. Go back to the lab. Go to work! You need to learn more. If you quit now, others will have to painfully learn what you already know.”

Oh, how I needed my wife’s vision, grit, and love! I went back to work and learned more. If it weren’t for Dantzel’s inspired prodding, I would not have pursued open-heart surgery and would not have been prepared to do the operation in 1972 that saved the life of President Spencer W. Kimball.

Sisters, do you realize the breadth and scope of your influence when you speak those things that come to your heart and mind as directed by the Spirit? A superb stake president told me of a stake council meeting in which they were wrestling with a difficult challenge. At one point, he realized that the stake Primary president had not spoken, so he asked if she had any impressions. “Well, actually I have,” she said and then proceeded to share a thought that changed the entire direction of the meeting. The stake president continued, “As she spoke, the Spirit testified to me that she had given voice to the revelation we had been seeking as a council.”

My dear sisters, whatever your calling, whatever your circumstances, we need your impressions, your insights, and your inspiration. We need you to speak up and speak out in ward and stake councils. We need each married sister to speak as “a contributing and full partner” as you unite with your husband in governing your family. Married or single, you sisters possess distinctive capabilities and special intuition you have received as gifts from God. We brethren cannot duplicate your unique influence.

We know that the culminating act of all creation was the creation of woman! We need your strength!

Attacks against the Church, its doctrine, and our way of life are going to increase. Because of this, we need women who have a bedrock understanding of the doctrine of Christ and who will use that understanding to teach and help raise a sin-resistant generation. We need women who can detect deception in all of its forms. We need women who know how to access the power that God makes available to covenant keepers and who express their beliefs with confidence and charity. We need women who have the courage and vision of our Mother Eve.

My dear sisters, nothing is more crucial to your eternal life than your own conversion. It is converted, covenant-keeping women—women like my dear wife Wendy—whose righteous lives will increasingly stand out in a deteriorating world and who will thus be seen as different and distinct in the happiest of ways.

So today I plead with my sisters of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to step forward! Take your rightful and needful place in your home, in your community, and in the kingdom of God—more than you ever have before. I plead with you to fulfill President Kimball’s prophecy. And I promise you in the name of Jesus Christ that as you do so, the Holy Ghost will magnify your influence in an unprecedented way!

I bear witness of the reality of the Lord Jesus Christ and of His redeeming, atoning, and sanctifying power. And as one of His Apostles, I thank you, my dear sisters, and bless you to rise to your full stature, to fulfill the measure of your creation, as we walk arm in arm in this sacred work. Together we will help prepare the world for the Second Coming of the Lord. Of this I testify, as your brother, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

If you think your challenges are insurmountable, let me tell you of a man we met in a small village outside of Hyderabad, India, in 2006. This man exemplified a willingness to change. Appa Rao Nulu was born in rural India. When he was three years old, he contracted polio and was left physically disabled. His society taught him that his potential was severely limited. However, as a young adult he met our missionaries. They taught him of a greater potential, both in this life and in the eternity to come. He was baptized and confirmed a member of the Church. With a significantly raised vision, he set a goal to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood and to serve a full-time mission. In 1986 he was ordained an elder and called to serve in India. Walking was not easy—he did his best, using a cane in each hand, and he fell often—but quitting was never an option. He made a commitment to honorably and devotedly serve a mission, and he did.

When we met Brother Nulu, nearly 20 years after his mission, he cheerfully greeted us where the road ended and led us down an uneven dirt path to the two-room home he shared with his wife and three children. It was an extremely hot and uncomfortable day. He still walked with great difficulty, but there was no self-pity. Through personal diligence, he has become a teacher, providing schooling for the village children. When we entered his modest house, he immediately took me to a corner and pulled out a box that contained his most important possessions. He wanted me to see a piece of paper. It read, “With good wishes and blessings to Elder Nulu, a courageous and happy missionary; [dated] June 25, 1987; [signed] Boyd K. Packer.” On that occasion, when then-Elder Packer visited India and spoke to a group of missionaries, he affirmed to Elder Nulu his potential. In essence, what Brother Nulu was telling me that day in 2006 was that the gospel had changed him—permanently!

On this visit to the Nulu home, we were accompanied by the mission president. He was there to interview Brother Nulu, his wife, and his children—for the parents to receive their endowments and be sealed and for the children to be sealed to their parents. We also presented the family with arrangements for them to travel to the Hong Kong China Temple for these ordinances. They wept with joy as their long-awaited dream was to be realized.

Take Lem Harsh, chairman of the Venturer Officers Association here at camp. He’s at ease at the microphone and leading a meeting. He makes decisions, gives instructions, teaches, and it looks like it comes naturally. But that’s because he’s been here before. He definitely did not see himself as leadership material his first time at camp.
“I remember coming up and feeling like I had no reason to be here. I wasn’t a leader at all, and I just kind of followed my crew around for a while,” Lem says. “Then I stepped it up because they made you want to be a leader, and they gave you the tools.”
Joe Hiller says he attended the first time mostly because his mom wanted him to. “I don’t think I wanted to see myself as a leader.”
Neal Cook has had some leadership callings, but, he says, “I would look to my adviser and just do what he said. When I came up here and learned what a real leader does, it really opened my eyes.”
So, what does a real leader do?
Andrew Hiller, Joe’s brother, says, “One of the best things you can do as a leader is be the example for others. You may not always know it, but you are being looked to as the example for the group.”
Lem gives an example of example. “You have to make decisions, even if they are not popular decisions—like cleaning assignments. It really helps others to know that you have been willing to do the same thing yourself. The first day here, we were the ones who cleaned the latrines.” When others saw that their leaders were willing to do it, they were more willing to accept the assignment.
One of the most important examples a leader can give is attitude. As Joe points out, “When they see you with a good attitude, then they will have a good attitude.”
Fine. But how do you get a good attitude if, say, your group gets an assignment that sounds anything but fun? Ross says reading the scriptures—especially stories about people like Nephi—helps him have a good attitude. “I think when you trust in the Lord, praying to Him and reading the scriptures, you will have a good attitude because the Spirit will be with you and will be guiding you. And once you have that good attitude, be a good example, and show others it works. You have to decide to have a good attitude.”
One of the coolest things about the young men at this camp is how readily they refer to the scriptures as they talk about leadership. Joe refers to D&C 35:13 and how the Lord uses the “weak things of the world” as His instruments—a reassuring thought for all of us who feel inadequate. And Ross points out D&C 82:18, which says that those who improve on their talents will gain other talents, “even an hundred fold,” all “for the benefit of the church.”
In the end, Lem sums it up. “Whenever I’ve had a question about leadership and what to do, I’ve thought, ‘What would Christ do? How has Christ shown an example of this certain leadership skill?’ And He has. He’s done it, and He’s shown us how best to go about it. Mostly it’s loving each other. If you have any questions, you go to the scriptures, and you find that out.”
In less than a week, the guys at camp learned a lot about leadership and about themselves. Those who thought they knew a lot realized they could still improve. Those who thought they didn’t have what it takes learned they did. Everyone has gifts and talents that can be applied to leadership. And everyone can learn the skills they lack—especially if they are willing to learn from the Spirit and if they are willing to move ahead as Nephi did. The Lord doesn’t call anyone to fail.
Neal Cook: “You don’t have to be some popular stereotype. Just reach inside and be yourself.”
Joe Hiller: “There are different strengths in our group that help the whole group work well together. Same with the crews here. All together we’re a great leadership machine.”
Dave Shepard: “As a leader, you have to be humble. The strengths you have come from God. He has given you those talents to develop.”
Ross Quigley: “God won’t call you to something you can’t handle. He knows you have the capability to do it. But you can’t do it all by yourself. You have to know and use your resources.”
Cameron Swain: “Take an interest in the people you are in charge of. Being a leader is helping them and having them help you. They can teach you as much as you teach them.”

“When President Russell M. Nelson announced the temple for Puerto Rico, I was alone in my room, watching General Conference, and the emotion was so great that I cried, I thanked Heavenly Father for answering my forty-year prayer.” expresses María del Carmen Carrasco Caraballo, from the Ponce 1st Ward, Ponce Puerto Rico Stake.

Although due to the COVID-19 pandemic the work was stopped in March 2020, they felt confident that everything would be resolved. “I clung, with all my heart, to the knowledge that God’s timing is perfect, and I felt peace,” says Sister Carrasco Caraballo, happy that the work was resumed in May of that same year.

Sister María del Carmen Carrasco, from the Ponce Puerto Rico Stake, along with a group of her from her Ponce 1st Ward, are preparing in the Santo Domingo Temple and have been set apart to serve as ordinance workers in the temple in her country.

“After forty years of waiting for this great blessing, our sights are on the temple and the ordinances that are performed there. Our goal is to be able to serve in the Puerto Rico Temple,” she says.

While the temple is being built, this sister has focused on teaching Primary children the importance of family history and temple work for a Latter-day Saint. On the other hand, she has increased the search for data to strengthen her family history and strives every day to stay worthy to enter the House of the Lord.

As I sat contemplating an upcoming Church assignment, I became more and more apprehensive about my ability to do well. I needed help, so I began to pray. Much to my surprise, tears began to flow as I remembered an incident that had happened many years before.
The memory of that experience calmed me with the assurance that, like my earthly father, my Heavenly Father felt I had great ability and would do just fine. If I would stay calm and not worry about failure, he would be able to inspire me.
Confident once more, I thanked Him for giving me a father whose love and concern has helped me begin to comprehend our Heavenly Father’s love.

When I was 16 years old, I had been attending church regularly for almost a year, but I was not a member of the Church yet. I really enjoyed going with my friends. However, my parents did not have kind feelings toward the Church or my attendance. This fear that I would join the Church led my family to decide that moving across the country from Arizona to North Carolina would be best. I was really upset, and I did not want to leave, but I had little choice in the matter.
On my last Sunday in Arizona the leaders knew that I was leaving and decided to have a testimony meeting just for us boys. It was amazing for me to hear the testimonies of my closest friends and others in this meeting. I could feel the Spirit so strongly I could almost touch it. As the boys took their turns bearing their testimony, I could not stop myself from standing.
I bore a simple but heartfelt testimony that I knew the Church was true and that Jesus is my Savior. I had never borne my testimony before, but as the words came out of my mouth, I realized how much I knew they were true. As 16-year-old youth, it was hard for any of us to show our feelings, but I know that I was not the only one a little choked up. I felt so good, and it was a feeling of eternal joy. I was home. It was at that meeting that I knew that I would join myself with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My whole conversion process can point to this one moment as the turning point.
I am so glad I had this lesson, because despite all my prayers, my family and I moved to North Carolina. I had hope, for I knew that just because I was moving away from my friends, I was not moving away from the Lord. The simple testimony I had gained carried me through my time in North Carolina, even though I was no longer allowed to attend church during our time there. When my family moved back, my parents’ hearts were softened a little, and I was allowed to attend Church meetings again. On my 18th birthday, I was baptized, thanks in part to a lesson on testimony.

Percy Peacock and his friends lived in the garden of the finest castle in the land. On sunny days people loved to stand outside the castle gate and watch the peacocks.
Percy and his friends held their heads high and strutted around the garden. Sometimes they spread their tail feathers to make colorful fans of orange, gold, green, and blue.
The people clapped their hands. “How lovely!” they cried. “What beautiful colors!”
“It’s true,” Percy said to his friends. “We peacocks are the finest, most beautiful of all birds. Just to prove that’s true,” he added, “let’s have a contest to show which bird is the finest of all. We are sure to win.”
The other peacocks all agreed that it was a splendid idea.
“Each bird must bring seeds, nuts, and berries for the prize,” said Percy. “I’m tired of eating the same old castle food.”
Percy and his friends practiced their proudest walks. They spread their tail feathers, walked down to the lake, and admired their reflections in the water.
On the day of the contest, birds came from many lands. There were small ones and large ones. Some birds squawked and others sang. There were yellow birds, red birds, blue birds, and birds of many colors.
Percy had never seen so many birds.
“There is still no bird as fine as we are,” he told his friends. “Look how fat that one is.”
“Yes, and those others are so plain,” ridiculed another peacock.
All day birds flew into the garden. Soon prize baskets were full of corn, wheat, rice, and nuts. Others were overflowing with plums, cherries, and berries.
“What a feast!” declared the peacocks.
When the robin came, she asked, “Who is the judge?”
“Oh, dear!” said Percy. “I forgot about that.”
An old owl sat nearby. “I will be the judge,” he offered.
That was fine with Percy. “I have heard that owls are very wise,” he said. To himself Percy muttered, “Owls are drab and brown and not beautiful at all.”
So all the birds flew before the judge. They flapped their wings and sang their best songs. A white swan glided on the silver lake. Parrots flashed their bright wings. Eagles soared high above the oak tree.
Last of all were the peacocks. They walked proudly and turned all around so that the judge could admire their colorful tails.
Percy anxiously clicked his beak as he passed the prize baskets. Then he shouted, “Now announce who the winner is!”
All the birds stood around the owl. The owl looked at Percy. He cleared his throat. “It is true that you peacocks have beautiful tail feathers,” he said. “But you are not modest like the robin or sensible like the sparrow. You don’t have the nightingale’s sweet song or the swan’s fine manners. You are not as fast as the hummingbird or as friendly as the canary.”
“Then who won?” asked the parrot.
“No one and everyone,” the owl said wisely. “Each of you is special. Each can learn from the other.”
For once Percy had nothing to say.
Then all the birds asked one another, “If no one won, who gets the prize?”
“All of us,” said the sparrow. “We will share.”
And that is what they did.

Jean would always remember the night when she really learned that her Heavenly Father hears and answers sincere prayers, even when uttered by a weary 17-year-old in the backwoods of southern Georgia.
At graduation time, Jean learned that her trials had only begun. Mother remarried and moved far away. Jean had no choice. She had to go live with our father in rural Georgia. He lived in a tiny, isolated town where he was the minister of the only church.
Our father had always been bitter toward the Mormons, and that bitterness had turned to hatred when all three of his daughters had been baptized. Jean was his baby, his special pet, and it cut him to the quick to see her not only in a religion different from his but as a Mormon and a devout Mormon at that. He looked upon her move to his house as an answer to prayers. Now things would be different. Now he would be able to show her the error of her ways.
Although I live more than 200 miles away, I came as often as possible during the summer and took Jean to my home in Columbia. However, the summer soon ended, and Jean had to start commuting to college. Jean had a car to make the drive back and forth to school but not for her personal use on weekends. The nearest branch was 30 miles away, and even if she could get there, Dad wouldn’t let her go. There wasn’t an institute at her small college, and it just seemed that there was no way for her to have any contact with Church members.
Days turned into weeks, and then months had gone by since she had attended a meeting. She read her scriptures, wrote daily in her journal, and spent hours on her knees. As she grew closer to her Heavenly Father through earnest prayer, Jean’s testimony of the gospel grew. She began to realize how often she had taken the opportunity to attend meetings and functions of the Church for granted, how she had even wished meetings would hurry and be over. During this time, Dad made every effort to break her testimony. He quoted scripture after scripture, but Jean’s seminary scriptures stood her in good stead. She was able to parry with scriptures of her own. Sometimes he threw things at her that she couldn’t or, to stop an argument, wouldn’t defend. While her testimony wasn’t harmed, it did make Jean weary as she faced each day on the defensive, knowing that everything she loved and considered holy would be denounced in her father’s booming voice at mealtimes, in discussions with her stepmother, or in his verbal prayers.
Some nights only hours on bended knees kept her from total despair. She fought back the desire to rage against her Heavenly Father for deserting her. Soon even the scriptures she loved were difficult to read because they produced such a terrible longing for her old friends, teachers, and bishop. Often she lay in bed at night with tears streaming down her face trying to remember that she wasn’t the only Latter-day Saint in the world. She tried to be strong, but she was young and alone and there had been no contact with members for so long.
One night in January, Jean reached rock bottom. Her father and stepmother had baited her and prayed aloud for her soul until she was ready to scream. No one understood the trials she was going through. Her sisters sympathized, but we were too far away to be any help. Finally Jean knelt by her bed and poured her heart out as she had so many times in the past. She told her Heavenly Father that she knew he loved her and that he had promised no burden heavier than she could bear. She begged for some sort of help because the burden had grown so heavy that she could not bear it any longer.
When Jean left Natchez, her records had been sent to the nearest branch. Once the records were received, she was assigned home teachers. However, as no one had ever met Jean and she lived so far away and had never attended a meeting, the home teachers didn’t visit her. In their minds, she was probably someone who had joined the Church at age eight but had never been active. Someone in the branch had heard that a Mr. Swilley in Egypt, Georgia, was the Baptist preacher there, and this Jean was probably his wife. No way were they going to drive all that way to get a door slammed in their faces!
In a small branch, the work load is heavy for each member. The home teacher lived 15 miles on the other side of the town where the branch was located, a total of 45 miles one way on country roads from Jean. Months went by, and each month his home teaching report was complete except for Sister Swilley. Being a good and conscientious man, this bothered him. He decided to go at least once just to see what sort of circumstances she was in.
The night came when he couldn’t rest until he had made the effort to see this sister. He called his companion, a young boy of 16, and they began the long drive. As they drove farther into the countryside, they began to be uneasy and wished they could turn around and go home. Yet something urged them on. Little did they know that at that moment, Jean Swilley was on her knees begging her Father in Heaven to throw her a lifeline. As her prayer ended and she dried her tears, Dad knocked on her bedroom door. “Jeanie, there are two men outside, and they are asking for you. They are Mormons, and I won’t ask them in, but you can go talk to them on the porch.”
Jean flew through the house and onto the porch. She stood on the steps, and tears fell again as the older of the two men stretched out his hand and said, “We are your home teachers …” He didn’t have to say anything else because Jean fell into his arms and cried out all the pain and loneliness that was there. Finally someone had come. God had indeed heard her prayers.
As Jean told her story to these wonderful men, I know that their hearts were touched. They expressed sorrow for not having come sooner and promised to make the branch president aware of her situation. They prayed with Jean and told her to call them when it got too hard and left with the most beautiful words Jean had ever heard, “You aren’t alone anymore.”
Jean is still not allowed to go to church, but her spirit is so much stronger now that she knows her Father in Heaven is aware of her needs and answers her prayers. Dad said the home teachers could keep coming as long as they had a talk with him first. When Jean explained the situation to the home teachers, they told her that they would talk with him and do it gladly.
Jean’s home teachers had every excuse in the world not to visit her. It was inconvenient—one and a half hours just in driving time. She had expressed no interest in seeing them. They did not think she would welcome them, and they were busy with other church responsibilities. Still, they obeyed the promptings of the Holy Spirit.
Those home teachers will never know just how happy they made my sister nor will they know how thankful they made me for a Heavenly Father that heard my sister’s prayers. How can they know what will come of their talk with my dad? Or that Mother, who had drifted so far away that she denied the Church on every opportunity, would cry when told that her baby girl wasn’t quite so wretched anymore and why. How could they have known that Mother would say through her tears, “I knew He would take care of her and hear her prayers.” I know that more good will come because those two men listened and obeyed. I hope that I will learn to listen and obey. I hope we all will.

I saw evidence of that in a Church Board of Education meeting. President Spencer W. Kimball by then had given years of service while enduring a series of health challenges only Job would understand. He was chairing the meeting that morning.

Suddenly, he stopped speaking. He slumped in his chair. His eyes closed. His head fell on his chest. I was seated near him. Elder Holland was next to us. The two of us rose to help him. Inexperienced as we were in emergencies, we decided to carry him, still seated in his chair, to his nearby office.

He became our teacher in that moment of his extremity. With one of us lifting each side of his chair, we went out of the meeting room into the hallway of the Church Administration Building. He half opened his eyes, still dazed, and said, “Oh, please be careful. Don’t hurt your backs.” As we got near his office door, he said, “Oh, I feel terrible that I interrupted the meeting.” Minutes after we got him into his office, still not knowing what his problems were, he looked up at us and said, “Don’t you think you ought to go back to the meeting?”

We left and hurried back, knowing that somehow our being there must matter to the Lord. President Kimball had since his childhood pushed himself beyond his limits of endurance to serve and to love the Lord. It was a habit so ingrained that it was there when he needed it. He was prepared. And so he was able to teach and show us how to be prepared to keep the oath and covenant: by steady preparation over the years, through all our strength in what might appear to be little tasks with small consequences.

Our family rotates family home evening duty. My husband’s was the Monday following the conference. During Sunday afternoon’s session, Elder Zwick gave a lesson on maintaining our standards. My husband used this talk to emphasize the need to maintain our standards. I had downloaded the MP3 file from the Web site. We sat together as a family and listened once again to the talk. This gave us an opening to bring up the topics of choosing friends, making good decisions, and making a life plan with our 14-year-old son.
Gwen D., Washington, USA

In 2003 I was called to serve a mission in the Ivory Coast, in western Africa. As I researched, I found that the country seemed to be involved in constant civil war, but I was comforted to learn there was a ceasefire in place. Further comfort came when I was set apart. The stake president gave me a promise that while I was serving, I would at times feel the presence of angels and they would protect me. I was also promised that if I was obedient, I would return home safely.
In the first months of my mission, the mission president counseled us to be prepared. In our apartment in the capital city of Abidjan, we kept a three-day supply of food and water, and at meetings we received training on what to do if conflict broke out.
Still, we were nervous when rebels broke the ceasefire on November 4, 2004. Our mission leaders gave us a 6:00 p.m. curfew. During our last teaching appointment the next day, we heard a sudden explosion. Immediately we ended with a prayer, left the family a chapter from the Book of Mormon to read, and rushed home. The other companionship in our apartment arrived shortly after us. The assistants phoned and told us not to leave our apartments under any circumstances—not for church or even food. We learned that some French peacekeepers had been killed in air strikes, so France had attacked the military airport, crippling the small Ivorian air force. In reaction, massive riots had broken out across the capital.
Tens of thousands of protesters swarmed the streets, wielding machetes, looting French shops, and breaking into homes where they suspected the French lived. From our window, we could see the violence unfolding. We knew we were in danger because of our white skin.
On Sunday afternoon, November 7, amid the sounds of screaming, gunshots, and explosions, we held a sacrament meeting in our apartment with only four participants. After blessing and passing the bread and water from our three-day food supply, each of us shared a scripture and bore testimony. I read Doctrine and Covenants 84:88: “And whoso receiveth you, there I will be also, for I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.” As I read, I reflected on the blessing my stake president had given me, and I knew I would be safe.
We were shut in our apartment for a week. Ward leaders and members visited us and brought us food. One member even took messages from us and e-mailed our families, letting them know we were safe for now. These members’ help was amazing! Meanwhile, our families and Church members around the world were praying for our safety. As my family prayed, they felt a calm assurance that I would be OK.
On Friday, November 12, our evacuation began. Ivorian Church members led us through the streets of Abidjan, and though we heard reports of other refugees being harmed, we made it safely through the barricades to the British ambassador’s home. Then British forces evacuated us from the country, and my family’s prayers were answered when they saw two other elders and me on the news being evacuated. In the dark of the night, members took other non-African missionaries to the mission home. From there the Italian air force transported them to Ghana, where we were reunited.
Despite dozens of attacks on foreigners throughout the country, none of the missionaries were harmed during the riots, and no missionary apartments were broken into. Because we listened to the mission president’s counsel, we were safe at home when the riots broke out and we had supplies necessary for our survival. And even more comforting than military protection was knowing we had the Lord’s protection.
When we were being evacuated, I found out that on Sunday afternoon after our sacrament meeting, a group of protesters had been preparing to attack our apartment. One of our neighbors shouted, “They aren’t French!” but they would not leave. Finally, another neighbor cried, “They’re missionaries!” and the rioters dispersed. I again remembered the words, “My Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you,” and I realized that I was living the promise from my stake president’s blessing. I had seen prophecy fulfilled.

Young members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and their Muslim friends in Queensland are helping an Australian charity to bring light into communities in Vanuatu impacted by energy poverty.
Last October, 186 young single adult volunteers, including friends from the Ahmadiyyah Muslim community, Church members and friends, gathered to assemble 1,000 solar lights.
The workers also wrote a greeting or message of encouragement on the instruction sheet that accompanies each light.
One volunteer said, “Not only are we building the lights, but we are also writing a letter to send with the lights, and it really makes it personal, and it really feels good to help others.”
Billie Murphy, SolarBuddy representative, said, “These lights will be used for children to study at nighttime and to move about their community safely and hopefully give them a really good opportunity as they move forward.”
Carl Maurer, self-reliance manager and Area Seventy, said, “I see this as an opportunity to relieve suffering, to increase the capacity for education to be a profile in somebody’s home, to offer better health opportunities in their homes, where they can become more self-reliant.”
Volunteers registered on JustServe, a free community service platform for building unity through community service, where the service project was posted.
The lights were purchased as a humanitarian project, by Latter-day Saint Charities, the service arm of the Church, from Solar Buddy, which is an Australian charity with the goal of ending energy poverty for all children.
After assembling the lights, which took about five minutes each, the young adults continued to mingle with games, activities, and, of course, food.
Carl Maurer said, “I hope that this will be a significant opportunity for families and individuals to see not just the light from the light, but see the Light of their lives, Jesus Christ.”