Gospel Story Finder

At this time Peter was going through a series of 28 operations to reconstruct his features and correct injuries suffered in his accident. He was approached by his bishop who asked what he would be doing if he could do anything he wanted.
Quickly it slipped out because it was a great desire of mine, but it seemed so totally impossible. I said, “I’d love to serve a mission.” And without even thinking twice he said, “Well, let’s get you ready.” I said, “Oh, bishop, I can’t do that.” I started to go over my finances and how much I owed and how my leg had not healed yet and all the operations I faced and the way people related to me. But he just said, “Let’s get you ready.”
The bishop called Peter to teach Sunday School, and after several trying times, Peter had some good experiences in teaching the Gospel Doctrine class. He was working several jobs to help pay his hospital bills. He had several more operations scheduled, and he was beginning to think seriously about his future. Some friends came one day to ask him to go to a stake dance that evening with them. Although he wanted to go, he refused. It took them six hours of talking to convince him to try going to the dance.
As I entered the foyer, I noticed that all the kids started looking at me, and I noticed some girls over by the coat rack. A couple of girls whispered, they didn’t know I could hear them, “Look at that guy. I sure hope he doesn’t ask me to dance.” Once again an ugly feeling shrouded my whole being.
I found a place behind the young men up near the band. I claimed a 60 cm square piece of board as my territory. I was going to own it for those hours at the dance.
At intermission his friends tried to encourage him to dance. They started pulling him out onto the floor. During the intermission, he resolved that as soon as the band began playing again, he would ask a girl to dance.
As soon as the music started, I remembered my commitment. I refused to think about my appearance and I went right out there to dance. I knew if I didn’t do it then, I would be a coward for the rest of the night.
He reached the section of the floor where the girls had congregated. He approached one girl from the back. When he touched her on the shoulder to ask for a dance, she turned and screamed. Embarrassed, she ran out of the ball, pushing her way through the crowd. It was just like the store. The band stopped; everyone stopped to see what was the matter. He returned to his place. His friends tried to comfort him, and the dance started again.
I wanted to shout; I wanted to get out of there. And this small voice deep down inside me said, “Peter, you can’t run now; you’ll be running for the rest of your life.” Another strange thing started to happen. My legs started to move across the floor. I watched myself go out there to ask another girl to dance. I had strength beyond my own power. It was like my spirit was up above me saying, “What are you doing? You’ve got to get back. Are you a glutton for punishment.” As I was walking across the floor, I was having this argument saying yes and no and yes and no. This small voice inside me kept reassuring me. It said, “Peter, you must keep asking them to dance. Don’t turn and run because you’ll be running forever.”
He asked a girl to dance every dance for the rest of the evening. He was discouraged when only two girls the entire evening would dance with him. That night as he knelt in prayer, Peter was one bitter young man.
Everything seemed to come together—all the pressure of the people, the way they treated me and stared at me and pointed at me, and all the operations that were left to be done. I still did not really know if they could correct my eyes and give me some eyelids, a normal mouth, and a nose. This feeling of ugliness came upon me, and in my anger, I said to my Father in Heaven, “There is a scripture that promises that we will not be tempted beyond our capacity to resist. I need that now.” I went to bed. The next morning I was blessed with a peace and a calmness that has stayed with me ever since. And regardless of how the world treated me from that point on. I was normal. My Father in Heaven just gave peace to me as He promised. If we live the commandments, he will give us what we need. He gave me a peace and a calmness so I was normal from that day on. Yes people would still react the same toward me, but I was different.

Illustration by Dilleen Marsh
I was baptized when I was 19. Many of my family and friends did not accept my decision to join the Church, but that didn’t stop me. Two weeks later, I started my second year of college. When I got back to campus, I became nervous about my new faith.
I started to worry that I wouldn’t have the courage stand up for my religion. I felt alone. I had never met a member of the Church at college, and I didn’t know where to find a meetinghouse, or if there was even a ward or branch nearby. I prayed to Heavenly Father for courage. I prayed I would have confidence to stand up for my newfound beliefs.
A few days later, I helped some people move in. I met a young man named Brian and we became friends. We were walking through campus one day when he asked me what my plans were for Sunday. I told him I was going to church.
“Oh, what church do you go to?” he asked.
Despite the anxious feeling in my stomach, I straightened up tall and said, “I go to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
I was proud of myself! I was also nervous about how Brian would respond. Just then, I saw the missionaries. Before Brian said anything, I told him I would be right back. I ran over to the missionaries. They were happy to meet me and gave me all the details I needed to get to church the next day.
I went back to Brian and explained what had happened. I also shared a little bit about the Church with him, and we continued walking without much difference, except I now had a spring in my step. I also felt the warmth and peace only the Spirit can bring. I had been worried about being alone and not knowing where to go to church. But I believe that those missionaries arriving at that exact spot at that time was Heavenly Father’s way of blessing me for declaring my faith.
More than 10 years have gone by, and since that day I have never been afraid to say, “I’m a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints!”

Dear brothers and sisters, you are exceptional individuals. You have been reserved for this particular time to accomplish your mission in mortality.[1] Since your memory of your eternal identity has been largely forgotten, you need a reminder of how precious you are. You need to understand how really important you are in the eyes of your Maker. Most of you do not fully appreciate who you really are. And most of you do not fully foresee your future potential for greatness. That is understandable. You think of great people as men or women who are older and better known. And you are made aware of them because of their titles.

Such a circumstance occurred many years ago when I was teaching a missionary discussion to a woman from Great Britain. I was teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ, and how He had restored His gospel through the Prophet Joseph Smith. She really liked the teachings of the gospel, but she had a hard time accepting the Prophet's First Vision. She said she could believe in the Restoration more sincerely if God the Father and His Son Jesus Christ had appeared to the Archbishop of Canterbury!

Actually, the fact that the Father and the Son appeared to an untitled youth is one of the most remarkable aspects of the Restoration. Joseph Smith did not have to "unlearn" anything. He was tutored personally by Them. Joseph was also tutored by other heavenly messengers, including Moroni, John the Baptist, Peter, James, John, Moses, Elias, and Elijah. His mission in mortality was foreordained. His receptive and pristine mind was receptive. But, by worldly standards, Joseph was most unlikely. And his task to be the Prophet of this last dispensation seemed totally impossible. This example typifies the title of my message for you today: "The Lord Uses the Unlikely to Accomplish the Impossible!"

In 1998, my husband received a job offer to work for a rehabilitation company in Rexburg. He was not looking for new employment, but we decided to consider the opportunity and seek guidance through fasting, prayer, and temple attendance. We felt confirmation from the Holy Ghost it was the right decision. He soon started the new job. We were settled in Idaho and expecting our third child.

Sadly, within a few months we received word a new company would be taking over the business. They would rehire therapists, but on their terms. This included a major salary cut and no health insurance. The path became rocky, and we doubted our original spiritual confirmation.

If a choice brings additional challenges, is it still right? This is where continual trust comes into action, and a knowledge God has a specific plan for each of us.

What we did not realize with my husband’s job was the Lord had something else in mind for us. Though not easy, additional opportunities eventually came.

One final illustration related to the Munich conference didn’t happen in Munich, but in Holland. Just after the conference, Brother de Jager, Regional Representative of the Twelve, was in his own ward. There, interestingly enough, he heard the choir sing at sacrament meeting, not in Dutch, but in German. He asked them afterward, “Why are you singing in German in the sacrament meeting?”

They, with spiritual smiles on their faces, said, “Brother de Jager, this is one of the hymns we learned at the area general conference.” You remember the occupation of Holland by the Germans, and yet you see how the Saints had reciprocated the Spirit of the Lord.

When I was about five years old, I was playing football with my friends behind the church in my small village in Côte d’Ivoire. I vividly remember the preacher’s call to his congregation to cleanse their clothes in preparation for the Savior’s arrival. Being young, I took this call literally. I ran home as fast as my little legs could carry me and begged my mother to clean my few clothes so that I could be spotless and ready for the Savior’s coming the next day. Although my mother was skeptical about the Savior’s imminent return, she still washed my best outfit.
The next morning, I put on the still slightly damp clothing and eagerly waited for the announcement of the Savior’s arrival. As the day wore on and nothing happened, I decided to go to the meetinghouse. I was deeply disappointed to find that the church was empty and the Savior had not arrived. You can imagine my feelings as I slowly walked home.
Years later, as I was receiving the missionary lessons in preparation to join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I read the following: “And no unclean thing can enter into his kingdom; therefore nothing entereth into his rest save it be those who have washed their garments in my blood, because of their faith, and the repentance of all their sins, and their faithfulness unto the end.”
The clarification I received at that time helped me to understand the important truth that had eluded my young mind many years prior. The preacher’s message was centered on the importance of spiritual purity. He urged the congregation to seek repentance, make changes in their lives, and turn to the Savior for redemption.

Several months after I regained my strength, we were caught in another violent storm, only this time at sea. The waves became so big they flipped our small boat over, throwing the three of us into the raging, churning ocean. When I found myself in the middle of a tumultuous sea, I was surprised, scared, and a little upset. “Why has this happened?” I thought. “I’m a missionary. Where is my protection? Missionaries aren’t supposed to swim.”

But swim I must if I wished to stay alive. Every time I complained I found myself underwater, so it didn’t take long to quit complaining. Things are how they are, and complaining doesn’t help. I needed every ounce of energy to keep my head above water and make it to shore. Having earned my Eagle Scout Award, I was a pretty confident swimmer, but over time the wind and the waves began to sap my strength. I never quit trying, but there came a time when my muscles simply would move no more.

I had a prayer in my heart, but still I began to sink. As I was going down for what could have been the last time, the Lord infused into my mind and heart a deep feeling of love for a very special person. It was as though I could see and hear her. Even though she was 8,000 miles away, the power of that love came rushing across those miles and, penetrating time and space, reached down and pulled me up—lifted me from the depths of darkness, despair, and death and brought me up to light and life and hope. With a sudden burst of energy I made it to shore, where I found my shipmates. Never underestimate the power of true love, for it knows no barriers.

One recent October somewhere around Tucumcari, my guitar player and bass man started confiding. We were on the road to play for a youth conference in Dallas and were mapping out a little journey through some songs that we hoped would give those people a good feeling, something to remember, a concert that would make them feel comfortable with their ideals. It hit both sidemen at once.
“Y’know, it wasn’t until just a few months before my mission that I started really listening to those lyrics that came out of my mouth every weekend.” They were talking about the kind of music that you hear on the radio, the kind that folks think they have to sing if they’re playing for stake dances every week, the kind of lyric in which just about every third verse mocks the beauty that’s a part of every child of God. And then they thought, “Well, it’s probably because we were so into the music that we didn’t hear the words. Not everybody’s a musician. Maybe not everybody’s as dumb as us.” And the conversation rested for awhile on that regretful but hopeful end.
We arrived, played the concert, and shared some good, true feelings back and forth with our new friends. The last encore was “I Am a Child of God.” Afterward, as we shook hands all around and shared greetings, the dance committee was setting up their record system.
Kabam!
Like a bolt of black lightning, six heavy speaker banks exploded with a Led Zeppelin lyric that you can’t print in Church magazines. The three of us (and several of the young people) looked at each other, and all thought the same thing: The scriptures never said that Satan would deceive only the very dumb.

On one occasion my wife expected to be away for the weekend and asked one of the sisters in our ward to teach her Relief Society lesson. The week following the session, that sister came to our home and returned the instruction manual. She also brought to my wife a freshly baked loaf of bread and a handwritten note that read, “I love you. You are a special person. Thank you for thinking of me.” She was grateful to have been asked to serve. She was full of the love of Christ.

Growing up, I didn’t believe there was a God. My life was full of turmoil, and in my darkest days I was depressed enough that I wanted to end my life. That was when the missionaries came knocking on my door. The gospel was exactly what I needed; I was drawn to it like a magnet.
My trials didn’t end after I joined the Church, but I was in a better position to resist the influence of the adversary. For the first time, I knew what happiness felt like.

When we put the Lord first in our home, it becomes a place where our spirits can be renewed and strengthened. Sister Margaret Murdock of Salt Lake City was asked to teach a Relief Society lesson about the scriptures. As she prepared her lesson, she began to realize that she had never studied the scriptures enough to make them part of her everyday thinking. As a single mother of five with a responsible job, she knew she needed more guidance.

Now Sister Murdock studies the scriptures for a half hour each morning and also at night. And for the first time, she is finding that the Lord’s words come to mind when she has problems at work or with her children. “Now I see the people I deal with at work as children of our Heavenly Father, whether they are religious or not,” says Sister Murdock. One of her co-workers is rude and hard to work with. “He’s a child of God, too,” says sister Murdock. “He just doesn’t know it yet.” Because she is taking the time for the Lord at home, Sister Murdock is feeling greater peace—whatever difficulties may arise.

My family and I learned that the Lord is willing to help us in money matters years ago, while I was in my medical training in Salt Lake City. Sister Davis and I would have our small children say their prayers out loud with us. Our oldest boy, Taylor, gave a rather brief prayer one evening that consisted only of asking the Lord for $10 so he could buy a toy workbench. We both wondered whether a prayer like that was really okay or not, but decided to leave it alone.

The next day, our 90-year-old neighbor from across the street, named Jim Downward, knocked on our front door. When Sonja opened the door, he handed her $10 and told her that it was for our little boy. She, of course, was surprised and amazed, and asked Jim why he had done this. He just answered that he didn't know, and then turned around and returned home. Through that experience, we were reminded that the Lord hears and answers his children's prayers, usually through the actions of others.

The light emanating from you is reminiscent of the experiences Sister Bateman and I had in Japan and Korea during 1993–94. Shortly after our arrival in Japan, we attended a district conference in northern Honshu. Arrangements were made before the trip for a member of the district presidency, a brother we did not know, to meet us at the train station. As the bullet train sped from Tokyo to Morioka, I wondered how we would recognize the Japanese brother. The train station would be a beehive of activity. It would be easier for him to recognize us than the reverse, but there would be hundreds of people exiting the train. Stepping from the train car onto the platform, I looked into a sea of Japanese faces wondering which one was there to greet us. As we gazed along the platform, I could see an individual at the far end whose countenance radiated the light of the gospel. He was checking each car as he passed along the platform. As we moved toward him, he recognized us, and a peaceful feeling entered our souls. That experience was repeated almost weekly as we met unknown Japanese and Korean brothers and sisters in busy airport terminals and train stations from Sapporo to Fukuoka to Seoul to Pusan. The warmth of the gospel light radiating from these brothers and sisters was the identifying characteristic that brought us together.

Take advantage of companionship inventory. You have time set aside once a week where you and your companion can talk openly and lovingly about your companionship. This is not a time to nitpick your companion’s personality or habits, but rather a time to lovingly identify things you can work on together to improve your companionship with the goal of becoming better missionaries. For example, one time my companion pointed out that I was complaining frequently. I hadn’t noticed, but once she helped me recognize that, I was able to make an effort to be more positive, and our work improved.

I've sometimes been asked by people of other faiths, why is it that so many LDS families seem to thrive, even in this age of family decline? We clearly have our share of troubled homes. But they still ask, "How do you explain the amazing confidence in marriage and family life that I see in the Mormons I know?" A law professor from Tokyo visited the U.S. to explore his concerns about the damaging effect of American culture on Japanese family commitments. He told me that the two most corrosive forces in his culture are the immorality in American TV and movies, and the self-centeredness of American law. He said, "You beat Japan in the second world war. Do you have to inflict your movies and your laws on us too?"

Then, after he'd been on the BYU-Provo campus several days, mixing in the dorms with students, this professor said, "You must tell me about these students and their families. This campus is an island of hope in the land of the apocalypse. What is the secret behind all the shining eyes?"

Kim Ho Jik took a deep breath. It was his first day studying and teaching at a university in the United States.
Learning was important to Ho Jik. He wanted to learn as much as he could about nutrition. Then he could make life better for people in South Korea, where he was from.
Ho Jik carried a box of books up some steps to his new office.
“Hello,” said a man from the office next door. “I’m Oliver. I’m studying here too.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Ho Jik said.
Weeks passed. Ho Jik and Oliver became friends. They talked about what they were learning. Ho Jik noticed that Oliver never drank or smoked. He didn’t work on Sundays either. I wonder why, Ho Jik thought.
One day Oliver gave Ho Jik a book. It was about the Articles of Faith. “This book tells about what I believe,” Oliver said. “Let me know if you want to learn more.”
Ho Jik finished the book in less than a week. Oliver gave him another book called the Book of Mormon. Ho Jik read it quickly too. He started going to church with Oliver. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to be baptized.
Soon it was Oliver’s last day at the university. Ho Jik saw him in the hallway. “I believe God brought you here for a special reason,” Oliver said. “But not just so you can teach your people about nutrition. You need to teach them about the gospel too.”
Ho Jik thought about Oliver’s words for a long time. Finally he decided to be baptized. He was baptized in the same river where Joseph Smith was baptized 122 years earlier!
When Ho Jik finished school, he went home to South Korea. He was excited to share the gospel with his family. He also taught many others about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Ho Jik became a leader. He had important jobs in education and government. He helped people in his country have more nutritious food. He made a difference in their lives.
But Ho Jik wanted to make an even bigger difference. Missionaries were not allowed to teach in Korea. Ho Jik wanted to change that. He knew that if he asked the government to let missionaries teach there, he could get in trouble. But he knew it was worth it. He would give up everything to bring the gospel to Korea.
Ho Jik asked the government to let missionaries teach in South Korea. And the government said yes! Soon missionaries came, and Ho Jik helped them teach more and more people.
Ho Jik knew that Oliver was right. He had been sent to that university so he could learn about the gospel. He was grateful God had blessed him with the gospel and with the opportunity to share it.

The Bobcats’ soccer team was holding tryouts for new players and Jim’s dream had always been to play on that team. They were the city champs.
He ran all the way to the soccer field, but slowed down when he spotted the Bobcats’ black and bright yellow striped shirts. There they are, he reveled silently. All over the field, kicking, dribbling, and heading their soccer balls.
A small dark-haired boy was dribbling his ball along the edge of the sideline toward Jim. He ran like a whippet, keeping the ball close to his feet. When he saw Jim, he stopped and smiled. “Hi! Trying out today?” he asked.
Jim nodded.
“What position do you play?”
“Right or left wing.”
“Me too.”
The boy turned and started up the field. A No. 3 was printed on the back of his shirt. He darted and swerved, making quick turns as he dribbled among the other players. Jim watched him for a few moments. No. 3 is good and very fast, he decided.
Walking over to the coach, who was wearing a black sweat suit with the word Bobcats in yellow letters across the back, Jim took some deep breaths and tried to relax. His stomach felt kind of funny.
The coach was surrounded by boys in different colored shirts and shorts. He turned and, seeing Jim, smiled at him.
Jim swallowed. “My name is Jim—Jim Simpson,” he said.
“Ah! Yes, Jim! Your coach called and talked to me about you. So you want to play for the Bobcats?”
Jim nodded.
The coach smiled and pulled out a whistle from his pocket. He blew it once. All the Bobcats ran toward him.
“Ok, boys, let’s have a practice game. All of you not in uniform take off your shirts—the Skins against the Bobcats. You new boys, listen as I call your name and position.”
Jim finally heard his name. “Jim Simpson, right halfback.”
Right halfback! He had been playing wing for five years. It was his special spot. Jim decided not to say anything. All the boys ran out onto the field and took their positions. The coach blew his whistle and the game began.
The ball was kicked right by Jim. He hesitated momentarily and missed it. He glanced at the coach, but he wasn’t watching. The Bobcats’ No. 3 had control of the ball and was pressing hard down the field. Jim ran toward him and reached out to kick the ball away, but No. 3 had quickly turned and headed toward the sideline. Jim was right behind him. No. 3 stopped and tapped the ball up into the air with his foot. Jim ran around the player and reached for the ball, but No. 2 had already started dribbling away toward the penalty area. Jim raced after him. He saw No. 3 chip the ball to the waiting Bobcat center forward who was right in front of the net. The center forward jumped up and headed the ball down to the right of the goalie’s outstretched arms. It shot past the goalie and bounced off the back of the net.
As the Bobcats ran back toward the center of the field, No. 3 called to the Bobcat center, “All right!” “Good work, boys!” the coach congratulated them.
Jim looked down at his cleats and frowned. The Bobcats were a tough team, but maybe he could slow down their No. 3 by trying to keep him away from the ball. For the rest of the half, Jim stuck close to No. 3 and kept after him, never letting up. Sweat trickled down the sides of his face. His blonde hair stuck to his forehead.
Once No. 3 turned and said, “What are you, my shadow?”
Jim grinned and raced after him to the other end of the field.
But a few seconds later, his smile faded as he watched the Bobcats score again. No. 3 had assisted on the goal by swerving the ball around three Skin defenders to a waiting teammate, who turned and shot the ball under the crossbar. The score was now 2–0.
The game continued with the Bobcats easily passing the ball from one to another. The Skins chased after them, never getting control of the ball for very long. Twice the Bobcats shot at the goal and missed. Then late in the second half, the Bobcat sweeper sent the ball halfway down the field toward No. 3, who lightly turned the ball with his foot and started to work his way to the sideline. Jim ran beside him, trying to get the ball, but No. 3 was always a step ahead. Suddenly No. 3 stopped and tapped the ball up into the air with his foot. Jim muttered, “Just like last time.”
But this time Jim didn’t run to the side. As the ball started down toward the ground, he reached with his foot under No. 3’s right leg and backheeled it. He had a happy grin on his face as he turned and quickly moved the ball back down the field toward the Bobcats’ goalie. He dribbled around the Bobcat halfback and passed to the Skins’ center halfback, who streaked up the middle of the field. Jim kept up with him. He looked over his shoulder and saw No. 3 close behind him. Then Jim poured it on. With a burst of speed, he pulled ahead and turned toward his teammate, who passed the ball to him. He heard the Bobcat fullback, who was all by himself in front of the goalie, yell, “Help!”
Jim tore down the field toward them. The goalie crouched between the goalposts. Jim knew he had to fake the fullback out, and he knew how to do it. As the fullback tried to get the ball, Jim leaned his body to the left. The fullback leaned in the same direction. So did the goalie. With his right foot, Jim shot the ball past the fullback to an opening right between the goalpost and the goalie. The goalie dove down on the ball, but it slid out and Jim was right there. Stepping over the goalie’s arm, his left foot reached out and smacked the ball into the net. The score was now 2–1! A second later the coach blew his whistle. “Game’s over!” he called.
Raising his arms above his head, Jim leaped up into the air. He had worked hard for his goal.
No. 3 walked over to him. “Say, shadow, that was a good goal.”
“Thanks.”
“Jim!” the coach called across the field. “Stick around, I want to talk to you.”
No. 3 touched Jim’s arm. “Hope you made the team.”
Jim shook his head wearily. “I made a goal, but I don’t think I played good enough for the Bobcats.”
Sighing, he sat down on the grass. He watched No. 3 run down the field toward the water fountain. It looked like the Bobcats had a terrific wing. I’m just not fast enough, Jim concluded. Even if the coach asked me to be on the team, I’d probably spend all my time standing around on the sidelines. I’d probably never get a chance to play because their other wing is good too.
“That was some goal!”
Jim looked up as the coach sat down next to him.
“You have good balance—leaning one way and shooting with the other foot.”
“I saw it done on TV, and I’ve been practicing.”
“Sounds like you’re pretty serious about soccer.”
Jim smiled, “It’s my favorite sport. I’d like to learn how to play it better.”
“I’ve been watching you play, Jim. I came to quite a few of your games. You know it isn’t often that someone takes the ball away from Tony—he’s No. 3. He’s a fast wing, and you control the ball well. You’d make a good halfback. I think you two would make a great combination. How’d you like to come to the team’s regular practice next Tuesday?”
Jim could hardly believe what he heard. His eyes sparkled as he nodded his head. “I’d like that, coach. I’d really like to be a Bobcat.”
“Good, because that’s just what you are!”

Once you turn 16, group dating is a great way to build friendships. You’ll want to keep in mind a few things. Follow the example below to see what outcomes your decisions may have.
Start
You worked up the nerve to ask someone out. Great job. Your date asks, “Who else is coming?” You answer:
John and Suzy. (Go to #2.)
No one. (Go to #3.)
Good answer. Group dating is important in your teenage years. What do you have planned for the date?
Go to a movie. (Go to #4.)
Go on a hike. (Go to #5.)
It’s time to rethink this one (see For the Strength of Youth [2011], 4). Your date says she won’t go without a group. What do you do?
Make it a group date instead. (Go to #2.)
Stay home.
A nice idea, but maybe not the best option. You enjoyed the show, but you sat next to each other for two hours without saying a word. What do you do next?
Go home; you’re tired. (Go to #6.)
Make a dessert. (Go to #7.)
Sounds fun! And it will give you lots of opportunities to get to know one another. Did you tell your date what the plan is?
Of course! (Go to #8.)
Whoops! (Go to #9.)
You take your date home, and she thanks you for the nice time. It’s too bad you didn’t really get to know her better instead of just watching a movie.
The group gets ice cream at someone’s home. The dessert is good, and you enjoy talking with everyone. It’s almost curfew. What do you do?
Take your date home. (Go to #10.)
Stay a little longer—you’re having fun. (Go to #11.)
You enjoyed the hike and really got to know everyone in the group. What now?
Make a dessert. (Go to #7.)
Take your date home. (Go to #10.)
Your date wasn’t prepared for hiking, so you wait inside the door for a few minutes while she changes. You’re a little late in meeting up with the group, so the hike ends up shorter than you’d planned, but it’s still fun. What now?
Make a dessert. (Go to #7.)
Take your date home. (Go to #10.)
Your date says she had a great time, thanks you for the evening, and says, “We should do that again sometime!” You smile all the way home.
When you return home after curfew, you and your date both get grounded. Even though you had fun, your date’s dad won’t let you go out again.

Some years ago while I was attending a priesthood leadership session of the Monument Park West Stake conference, this scripture became the theme for the visitor from the Welfare Committee, my former stake president, Paul C. Child. In his accustomed style, Brother Child left the stand and began to walk down the aisle among the assembled priesthood brethren. He quoted the verse, “Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God.” (D&C 18:10.) Then he asked the question, “Who can tell me the worth of a human soul?”

Every man in attendance began to think of an answer in the event Brother Child were to call on him. I had grown up under his leadership, and I knew he would never call on a high councilor or member of a bishopric; rather, he would select one who would least expect to be called. Sure enough, he called from a list he carried the name of an elders quorum president. Thunderstruck, the brother stammered as he asked, “Would you repeat the question, please?” The question was repeated, followed by an even longer pause. Suddenly the response came forth, “The worth of a human soul is its capacity to become as God.”

Brother Child closed his scripture, walked back to the pulpit, and, while passing me whispered, “A profound reply; a profound reply.”

In the early days of the Church it was common for young married couples to be called on missions and some of these young couples were called to Samoa. The first person to be buried in that plot was Sister Katie Eliza Hale Merrill. She and her husband had only been on a mission for three months when she took sick and gave birth to a premature child. The child died the next day. The history says the following: “An hour after the death of the child, the mother called Sister Lee (wife of the mission president) to her bedside and, after thanking her for waiting on her during the sickness, said that she was ‘going to die’ that she ‘could not stay because they had come for her.’ She then talked with her husband, kissed him goodbye, and all was over. The mother and baby boy were buried in one coffin.” After his mission, Brother Merrill took the remains of his wife and infant son back to Utah for burial.