Gospel Story Finder

I recently decided to try a new recipe: a bûche de Noël. A beautiful, swirly chocolate cake.
During the first few minutes of mixing, my lump of dough looked nothing like the example I was following. “This is not working out,” I said. And as the tedious task of mixing wore on, I also wondered, “Is all this work even worth it?”
After some redoes and a lot of patience, I tried a new bûche de Noël recipe. There were several moments when I thought it was going to fail, but in the end, it turned out fantastic!

With his first preaching trip ended, Erastus worked on the family farm a winter and attended a short term of school. In the spring of 1835, still 16, he “labored what I could, some in the neighboring churches and some in the adjoining towns until the first of June when I went to the state of New Hampshire and laboured a while in Lisbon and the adjacent country … but none at this time obeyed the truth.” That year, 1835, he helped his father with spring and summer work. “I was father’s chief help on the farm,” he recalled, “but always carried a pocket Bible or some of the religious works with me to the field, and when my team was resting, I was reading. Father sometimes thought my team owed a debt of gratitude to my Bible.”

Gift of health. In October we heard the shocking news that our beloved stake president had suffered a heart attack and was in a coma. As the weeks passed, members of our stake prayed earnestly for him. The doctors were very concerned, but then he came out of his coma and drastically improved. He lives in my ward, and one Sunday before Christmas I walked into the chapel and was surprised to see him sitting on the stand. After the speakers gave their talks, the stake president came to the pulpit and told us that he could feel the strength of our prayers. As I looked at him, tears streaming down my cheeks, I realized his return to health was a great Christmas present for all of us.Katie B., Washington, USA

One Sunday night we were giving a fireside and I was speaking on the topic of modesty. I was talking about how when I was seeking an eternal companion I wanted to marry a girl who not only had a testimony, but also showed her faith by her works (James 2:17). An indicator to me if a woman was converted or not was if she followed the counsel of the modern day prophets, more specifically, I was looking for a girl who read the Book of Mormon everyday and wore a one-piece bathing suit. One young woman who attended the fireside later told me that when I said that that was the type of woman I had been looking for, it made a profound impact in her life. She said, "I remember thinking that I wanted an eternal mate who would want me to follow the teachings of the living Prophet. So when I got home that night, I was thinking about the second piercing that I had in my ear. I remembered reading President Hinckley's counsel to treat our bodies as temples and limit piercing to one in each ear. So, I decided to take it out because I wanted to be that person and do what the Prophet wanted me to do. I wanted my life to be in Heavenly Father's hands. I also decided to give away my four bikinis and all of my short shorts. Then, I bought a one-piece swimming suit. After doing all that, I really learned about what a gift our bodies are and I definitely felt an increase in the Spirit."

Let me share with you a couple of personalities who have operated in the translation department. We’ll first go to Sweden, if we might. There Sister Margstrom (who has now passed away, by the way), after being very crippled with a disease that wouldn’t allow her to operate normally as we operate, translated the book Jesus the Christ from English into Swedish. Her script came in typewritten. That doesn’t seem unusual until you recognize that his crippling disease that she had would allow her only to hold in one hand, with some pain, a stick with a rubber tip. She typed that transcript one letter at a time.

We had a lesson in Primary about studying the scriptures and being a good example to our friends. I learned one reason why this is so important. I live in a small town where thousands of Latter-day Saints come to visit each year—Nauvoo, Illinois. My sister and I are the only LDS students in our school, St. Peter and Paul School. It is just a few blocks from the original Nauvoo Temple site. Ever since the reconstruction of the temple was announced by President Hinckley in April 1999, people have talked a lot about it and about the Church. All the kids in school know I’m LDS, and sometimes it is uncomfortable when we talk about religion in class. But we all believe in Jesus, so when my teacher asked us, “What is a missionary?” I raised my hand. “A missionary is someone who spends all his time teaching about Jesus and serving people,” I said. My teacher was impressed with my answer.
Later that week, we were talking about Jesus and she asked, “Who baptized Jesus and where was He baptized?” I knew from my scripture study that John the Baptist had baptized the Savior and that it took place in the River Jordan. I was happy to be able to raise my hand again and answer her question. I felt like a good example, and I know that my scripture study paid off.
Bryce Capener, age 7Nauvoo, Illinois

I have always loved to read the New Era. The March 1986 issue came a few days before we were to go down to Washington, D.C., to go to the temple. My older sister and I decided to save the New Era to read in the car on the way down. But neither of us could wait that long. We both secretly read it. Later, I felt guilty that I had cheated, so I admitted it to my sister. She started laughing and admitted it also. That just goes to show how well the New Era is enjoyed in our home. Thanks so much for publishing it. It is a real strength to me.
Melissa BoyerWillowdale, Ontario, Canada

Vroom! Peter’s new remote-controlled car seemed to roar to life. It zigzagged through crumpled wrapping paper. It zoomed under the Christmas tree, its blue paint reflecting the lights.
When Peter had unwrapped his present that morning, he just knew it would be the fastest race car around. He was planning to make a race track for it.
But first Peter had to go to the homeless shelter with his family. Last week they had decided to help serve dinner to people there on Christmas night. Peter had liked the idea then. But now he just wanted to keep playing with his car.
Peter slowly put his boots on. “Why can’t I stay home?” he grumbled.
Dad ruffled Peter’s hair. “Getting toys for Christmas is fun. But Christmas is really about Jesus. That’s why we wanted to celebrate His birth by doing something He would do—helping others.”
Peter still didn’t feel like going. But he trudged out the door anyway.
Once they got to the shelter, a lady led them to the kitchen. Peter followed her to his spot, and she handed him a spoon. His job was to serve green beans. Yuck! he thought.
People started coming in the cafeteria. One by one, they moved through the line. Peter dumped a spoonful of green beans on each plate. Scoop, plop. Scoop, plop. He couldn’t think of anything more boring. His mind kept going back to the race track he wanted to build.
Peter scooped another spoonful of green beans. When he looked up he saw a boy sliding his tray closer. Peter spooned the beans onto the boy’s plate. He looked up again, and their eyes met. The boy smiled. “Thank you!” he said. Peter watched him sit down by a tall woman. They looked happy. That made Peter happy too.
Maybe Dad was right, Peter thought. He could play with his toys anytime. But coming here was special. He thought about how Jesus spent His life helping people. And wasn’t Christmas about celebrating Jesus’s birthday?
When the next person came through the line, Peter smiled as he scooped beans onto her plate.
“Merry Christmas,” Peter said.
He tried to smile at everyone who came through the line. Not everyone smiled back, and that was OK.
On the ride home, Peter looked at Dad. “I think I understand what you said earlier, about what Christmas is really about.”
“Oh yeah?”
“It’s not about getting stuff,” Peter said. “Helping people is more important.”
“I think you’re right,” said Dad. “And maybe we can come back soon to help again.”
Peter grinned as he looked out the window. He was glad he’d spent Christmas night helping others, like Jesus would.

I grew up on a cattle ranch in Montana, USA. We also had about 300 sheep on the ranch. My mother bought them as a way for us to earn money for our missions.
My job was to take care of the lambs that didn’t have a mother taking care of them. When a sheep has more than one baby, sometimes she doesn’t take care of all of the lambs. So those were the lambs I took care of. There were 5 to 10 of these lambs each year.
Every day, I would drive to the pasture in our small blue car, called a Volkswagen Beetle, and honk the horn. Then I opened the car doors. Those lambs would come from wherever they were in the field. They knew the sound of that old Volkswagen. They would jump in the back of the car, and I would drive them to the barn and feed them.
We are like those little lambs. We live in different places and have different challenges in our lives. But Jesus is reaching out to each of us. We can learn to hear His voice. We can turn to Him for comfort and security. We can feel loved by Him and Heavenly Father.
As I’ve looked toward Jesus as the Shepherd in my life, my life has changed. When we place our lives in the hands of the Savior, we will feel His love and learn to trust Him.

Recently I took my three-year-old granddaughter to a sacrament meeting where a young man was speaking prior to leaving for a mission. I had brought the usual books and things to encourage her to be reverent, but she’s a bright and energetic little girl, so at one point I stood her beside me on the bench so she could see the missionary who was speaking. Then I whispered in her ear, “This young man is going on a mission, and that means he is going to live far away from home and go around telling people all about Jesus.” She looked all around the chapel filled with people and said, “Well, where is Jesus anyway?” She had seen His picture in Primary, but she could not find Him in the audience.
I cannot tell you how glad I was that I could tell her where Jesus is. As she can understand, I will tell her who He is, what He has done for her and for me, and what He can mean in her life. I was reminded on that occasion what a great opportunity we as women have to influence the lives of those around us. I love my children and my grandchildren, and I desire to keep them safe. Sometimes this world is a frightening place to be. I believe, however, that women have unique opportunities and special gifts and talents to protect, nurture, and influence others. We can create places of security where marriages, children, and families can thrive and avoid the evil of the world.

When President Nelson invited the women of the Church in October 2018 general conference to read the Book of Mormon before the end of the year, Matthew, Andrew, and Isaac, along with their father and younger brothers, decided to offer Mom their support. “We’ll read it with you!” they said. Every morning before seminary, they woke up to read together.
Matthew was going through a hard time when the family started reading every morning. He says, “I wasn’t doing well in school. I struggled with my personal scripture study and my relationship with Heavenly Father, and I kept it all to myself. I didn’t talk about it with my parents.”
However, as Matthew spent more time reading the Book of Mormon, the gospel began to take first priority in his life. He also put more effort into school. He worked hard and got his grades up.
“I also realized how much Heavenly Father and my parents love me and how much they help me. And I have a greater testimony of Jesus Christ. He has helped me overcome bad habits and helped me get my life headed in the right direction. I’m so glad we took President Nelson’s challenge as a family. It changed my life.”

I guess that we had the most fun one day when Mom went visiting teaching. She left Daddy to take care of us. He was busy in his study, so we looked for something fun to do until Mom got home. Hans opened a cupboard and took out a big can of flour. He took off the lid and showed it to me. It looked like something fun to play with, so we took it into the living room, where he poured it all onto the carpet. Then we rubbed it in big circles. If felt soft and nice. Hans rubbed a white circle around one of his eyes. He looked so funny! Mom came home right after that, and she couldn’t get mad when she saw how funny he looked. She just got her camera and took a picture of us.

For 35 years many people discussed the gospel with me. My wife never missed an opportunity to talk about it, and she would cleverly leave the Book of Mormon and Ensign magazine in plain sight. Of course, I never picked them up. She invited the missionaries over on many occasions; two or three sets of them even taught me the missionary lessons.
So what was keeping me from entering the waters of baptism?
I always had an excuse. I worked long hours. I didn’t see that I’d ever have time for the gospel. I was much too busy making money. So I told Eva, “Sometime when things slow down and I have more time, I’ll read the Book of Mormon.”
But I never did. Besides, I had never been much of a reader, and when I tried to read the Bible, it didn’t make any sense to me. So that was the end of that.
There was another thing that was keeping me from joining the Church, something more serious: the sinful life I was leading. King Benjamin teaches us that “the natural man is an enemy to God … unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit” (Mosiah 3:19). I did not yield—I was sitting on the fence. The Savior said, “He that is not with me is against me” (Matthew 12:30). I realize now that because of the way I was living my life, I was against Him. I needed to change.
I was living around the gospel but never actually living it, but as time went on, I started to feel the Spirit. I stopped partying and drinking. When I made that change, the Spirit started to manifest itself more frequently. I still wasn’t where I needed to be—my language wasn’t very good and I had some other bad habits to work on—but I was changing.
Then one day I received a package. It was from one of my daughters, Linda. It contained a Book of Mormon and a Bible with lots of marked scriptures. She also wrote me a letter in which she told me how much she loved me and wanted me to know what she knew.
She wrote, “The only way to know if the gospel of Jesus Christ is true is to ask with a sincere heart and with real intent.”
Linda then shared a series of scriptures that led me on a journey of prayer and scripture study.
“The only way I get to know my Savior and Heavenly Father,” she wrote, “is by praying and reading about Them in scriptures.”
She then described how important humility is and how, without God in her life, she couldn’t have peace. Finally, she wrote, “Don’t procrastinate anymore. You have been given so much. Now it’s time to give back to Heavenly Father. This is the only way to true happiness.”
I no longer had any excuses. Work slowed down, and I had some extra time. So I started reading and studying the scriptures she had outlined for me, which gave me the desire to read the entire Book of Mormon. But there were still so many things I did not understand.
By this time I was attending sacrament meeting because my wife said it would be nice if I came and sat beside her. She also suggested I read the Doctrine and Covenants. I did, and I understood it better. Then, with my wife’s help, I read the Book of Mormon and experienced the scriptures coming to life. Through lots of prayer, the Spirit was ignited in me.
What made the difference in me? The Holy Spirit and a knowledge of the scriptures. Both gave me the courage to change my life and to ask God for forgiveness of my sins, which were what had really kept me from joining the Church all those years.
Confessing my sins was very difficult. It brought me such pain that I lay in bed for three days in sorrow. But through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, I was forgiven. Then Heavenly Father gave me the strength to get up and get on with my new life.
My son Kevin baptized me on July 9, 2005. One of the missionaries who had taught my wife decades earlier attended. Two years later I took my family to the San Diego California Temple to be sealed for time and eternity.
The last seven years have been the happiest years of my life. I can finally take my place as the patriarch and spiritual leader of our family and share in the gospel with my wife, our children, and our nine grandchildren. This family unity has spiritually strengthened everyone. A son-in-law has joined the Church, and four of our grandchildren have served or are serving missions. My new life in the Church is a miracle. I had no idea what great happiness and growth it would bring me.
I am so thankful for this second chance. I am grateful to be making up for those lost years by doing God’s work.

Another memory from my boyhood was learning how to work. We had a big yard because my dad wanted to teach us how to work in it. So we all had assignments—mowing the lawn, weeding the vegetable and flower gardens, trimming the hedges, and so forth. My favorite job was working in our strawberry patch, because I’d eat the strawberries almost as fast as I picked them!
One job I had was mowing the lawn with our old push mower. My dad wouldn’t make me do it when I didn’t want to, but he would warn me, “It’s your job, and if you don’t do it today, the grass will only be longer tomorrow, and it’ll be harder to push the mower.” I remember procrastinating three or four days past the time when I should have mowed the lawn. Trying to push that mower through the long grass was really hard. I learned never to put off what you’re supposed to do, because it just gets harder the longer you wait. One of the happiest days of my youth was when my dad finally bought a power lawn mower!

Or choir member Kathleen Mickelsen’s experience—an experience repeated in one form or another night after night for many choir members, but this one occurred in St. Petersburg (then known as Leningrad): “Halfway through the concert, my eyes were drawn to a woman in the audience—and I noticed her eyes were drawn to me. She just melted at our singing of ‘Love So Amazing, So Divine,’ a song about Christ on the cross. We kept looking at each other through the rest of the concert—and I sang the songs as my testimony to her with all my heart.” After the final encore, while the choir members waved to the audience as they filed offstage, the woman and Kathleen forged their way through the crowd to meet, embrace, and emotionally communicate—through words, if possible, though language barriers generally made that difficult. If not, they would speak through tears, long, warm handclasps, and soulful expressions of “thank you” indigenous to each language and nation.

Madeline, her clothes under her arms, ran down the stairs and into the kitchen where her mother was preparing breakfast. Mother looked up to say good morning to her little girl, but when she saw how pale and breathless Madeline was, she asked, “What’s the matter? Are you sick?”

“No,” answered Madeline, but at the moment she could say no more. She sank down onto a stool near the fireplace and stared into the flame. She wondered how she could ever put into words the strange dream she had just had, and what her mother would think if she could.

It had seemed in her dream that she was a young lady sitting on a small strip of meadow close to the vineyard and that as she watched to make sure the goats didn’t tramp on the vines and eat them, she glanced down at a Sunday School book in her lap. As she looked up again, she was startled to see three strange men.

At the remembrance, Madeline shivered in fright, just as she had shivered in her dream. But almost at once there came the feeling of peace that had flooded over her when one of the men said, “Don’t be frightened. We have come from a place far from here to tell you about the true and everlasting gospel.”

Then the men told her that an angel had directed a boy to find an important book of gold hidden in the earth. They said that someday she, Madeline, would be able to read this book, and then, because of it, she would gladly leave her home, cross the great ocean, and go to America to live.

In the warm sweet-smelling kitchen Madeline relived her dream. It seemed so real to her that she turned pale again and began to tremble. Father came in from milking the goats, and asked, just as her mother had done, “What’s the matter? Are you sick?”

Madeline could only shake her head. Father gently stooped down beside her, picked up a stocking, and without another word began to help her dress. Afterward he lifted her onto his lap and quietly asked, “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Madeline nodded. It was hard to get the words started, but then they seemed to tumble over each other in their eagerness to be spoken. Mother left her preparations for their simple breakfast of figs, potatoes, and goats milk so she could hear every amazing detail of the dream. Father listened intently, occasionally nodding his head as if he understood more than was being said.

Long after everyone else was asleep that night, Madeline could hear the murmur of her parents’ voices. The last thing she remembered before she went to sleep was hearing her mother insist, “But we already have the true gospel, so there couldn’t be any real meaning to that story Madeline told us.”

Madeline did not hear Father’s answer, but occasionally as the years went by, he would question her concerning her dream. Even though some of the details became vague to her, they never did to him.

Shortly afterward, on a Saturday afternoon, Madeline’s father went home early from his work of building a chimney for a neighbor. He told his family that three strangers were coming to bring an important message. “I must dress in my best clothes and go welcome them,” he said.

He found the men he was looking for on Sunday morning and invited them to go home with him. As they walked up over the winding paths and through the dangerously narrow mountain passes, Madeline’s father told them of the dream his daughter had had many years before.

When they reached his small rock home, they found Madeline sitting on a little strip of meadow close to the vineyard. She looked up from the Sunday School book she was reading into the faces of three men. They told her they had come to give her people the message contained in a wonderful book of gold that had been taken out of the earth, and said that she could now read this book.

That evening Madeline’s neighbors came to meet the strangers and hear their message. Some of the men found it so unusual and exciting that they stayed up all night to learn more about the newly revealed truths that had been brought to them by these missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Some baptisms were held in October 1850. Twenty families eventually accepted the gospel, and as Madeline’s dream became a reality, the Vaudois area truly became “A Light Shining in Darkness.”

Just before he died, Charles Sheldon wrote a small sequel to his book entitled In His Steps Today. It tells of Mr. and Mrs. Ralph Ward and their four children. Their two oldest children, George and Alice, attended college while their two youngest, John and Mary, were in high school. Mr. Ward was an official in a railroad office, and Mrs. Ward was prominent in the social, church, and literary life of the city.
One morning as the family was eating breakfast, Mr. Ward told of coming across a book in the library which he and Mrs. Ward had read some twenty-five years earlier, just before their marriage. It was entitled In His Steps, or What Would Jesus Do?
He wondered if the plan were practical, if it really worked. He knew of a large number of people who had taken the pledge to try to act as Jesus who had had some interesting experiences. He knew the children were eager to try experiments in the chemical laboratory and in other fields and wondered if they would be willing to conduct an experiment in the world of conduct.
He asked them if just for that day, for example, they would be willing to do nothing without first asking, “What would Jesus do?” and then try to do the same.
There was embarrassing silence around the table. They were a Christian family, but the subject was unusual. Finally, the silence was broken by John, “the irrepressible,” as the others called him: “If we take the pledge, what’s the matter with you and mother taking it too? You were talking to us yesterday about the bad example the old people set to the young generation. How about you and mother, Dad?”
The father agreed. Mrs. Ward said she would join in the pledge with the understanding that each one would give it an honest and sincere trial.
Perhaps the members of their family did not know it, but this event was to make history for all of them. The pledge was to run until ten o’clock that night. Then they were to meet at that time to share their experiences of the day, holding back nothing.
I wish I had time to tell you all of their experiences. Let me quote the parents, tell what happened to the younger ones, and consider the final question raised by Mr. Ward.
First, let’s hear from Mr. Ward:
“My first experience came to me as I went into my office this morning, and . . . saw Crawford of the auditing department. He was very much put out yesterday when he accused me of backing into his car out in front of the office, and bending a fender. I told him he had parked his car at such an angle that I couldn’t get out without hitting it. We both became angry. This morning I went in, asked his pardon, and offered to buy him a new fender. It did us both good. . . .
“This afternoon out at the golf course, while I was putting my things back into my locker, two of the members of the club came in and took flasks out of their lockers, drank, and offered some to the rest of us. This has been going on for a long time against the rules of the club and the laws of the state, but no one has ever enforced them. It seemed to me that if Jesus saw a crime being committed, he would consider it his duty as a good citizen to prevent it. I went to the chairman of the House Committee and reported the breaking of the rules, which has raised a storm.
“Several of the members came to me this evening down at the literary club, and threatened to blackball at me the next election for directors if I did not withdraw my charges against the drinkers. More will come from this. But what would Jesus do? It has been an interesting day.”
Now let’s hear from Mrs. Ward:
“I really did not know what following Jesus might mean, but my story has to do with the action of our women’s Board of Directors in renting a part of our building to certain parties who are allowing dancing of a questionable nature to go on, together with card games that are practically nothing but gambling.
“I have known of this for some time as all the women do, but did not want to be unpopular by objecting. At the directors’ meeting today, however, I expressed my opinion and objection. The club is in debt, and the amusement concessions bring in big rent. I am the only member of the board to file a protest. It will mean—“Mrs. Ward paused, and there was a moment of silence.
Finally, let’s hear from the younger ones, John and Mary, with Mary leading out:
“We went to an entertainment this evening. A lot of the girls at the high school had been to see it, and they told John and me that it was grand. But I’d rather John told what happened.”
John seemed to be unusually reluctant to relate their experiences. Finally he spoke in a subdued tone that was unlike his usual loud and assertive manner.
“Well, after it began,” he said, “I thought it was one of those foolish things that was just for—well, just entertainment. Then I remembered what you said one day, Mother, about not wanting Mary and me to go to any entertainment that we wouldn’t invite you or father to see. Well, it got pretty vulgar, and—”
Another silence was around the table. Mrs. Ward looked at the boy with a new expression, as if some very rare experience were being related—as indeed it was.
The boy went on slowly: “Just then Mary nudged me and whispered, ‘Let’s get up and go out!’ Honest, I thought it would be a [strange] thing to do, but then when I asked ‘What would Jesus do?’ it seemed all right. So we got up, treading on a lot of feet in the row where we had been sitting.”
“On our way out,” broke in Mary, “I said to John, ‘Let’s do one more thing. Let’s tell the manager why we are going out.’ John said, ‘All right, and let’s tell him to give us our money back because we did not pay for that kind of entertainment.’ You never will see a more surprised man than Mr. Rondus when we told him how we felt!”
“Surprised isn’t the word,” interrupted John. “He was flabbergasted! When I told him we thought he ought to refund our money, he didn’t say a word, but forked the money right over. Do you think we did what Jesus would do?”
Mrs. Ward had a tear in her eye. She reached over and stroked the boy’s head. “A thing like that never happened in this town before. Well, we certainly have had some new experiences.”
“Worthwhile, don’t you think? But can we keep it up?” questioned Mr. Ward.
The question provoked a discussion around the Ward table that lasted into the next morning.
What do you think? [Charles M. Sheldon, In His Steps Today (Litchfield, Ill.: Sunshine Press, 1948), pp. 22–24, 29–31]

I am a child of record born and raised by members of the Church. I served my mission in the Nigeria Calabar Mission from 2011 to 2013.
Interestingly, it was on my mission that I met my wife, who was serving her mission in Lagos, Nigeria. When we returned from our respective missions, we lived in different towns in Liberia. However, we were able to stay connected through phone calls and we developed love for each other.
We dated for about eight months before performing both the traditional and the white wedding on the same day, Feb. 11, 2015. We did this to avoid unnecessary cost and delay. Even though our wedding wasn’t that fancy, what mattered most to us was to keep the law of chastity, and bring forth our children in the covenant, as instructed in The Family: A Proclamation to the World.

Andy Mair has heard many of the stories about sacrifices made in building the first Nauvoo Temple. He knows about the men and boys who cut stone by hand, hauled heavy loads with just horses and mules, went without good food and clothing, and spent every minute they could building a beautiful House of the Lord.
Andy has plenty to eat and wear and because he’s only 14 he’s not really allowed to work on the temple site. But Andy has made sacrifices. He willingly left his friends and home to come with his family to Nauvoo where his father would oversee the reconstruction of the Nauvoo Temple. “I am not sorry that I came,” says Andy. “I have been able to learn a lot more about the history of the Church and Joseph Smith. I can say that I have walked and lived where the Prophet Joseph and the early leaders of the Church did. As I see the temple workers, I notice that they all have shoes and shirts. They also have modern equipment like cranes, lifts, cement trucks, dump trucks, tractors, and power tools. I try to imagine how people in the 1840s built such a huge building without these things.”
Also, during the construction of the temple, Andy has seen what kind of man his dad is. “It means a lot to me to have my dad be able to oversee the construction of this temple, because I know I am one of a few young men who is able to participate so closely in such an historic event. My dad is a great example to me of hard work and dedication.”

Suzanne has several food allergies. She has been particularly touched by the sensitivity of the priests in her ward as they prepare the sacrament. “I am so humbled by the young men who have made it safe for me to take the sacrament,” she says.

One Sunday, the sacrament was not passed to her. The priests preparing it had noticed that her bread had been cross contaminated by the other bread on the table.

“They found me after sacrament meeting, explained what happened, and told me they had received special permission from the bishop to administer the sacrament to me in a classroom,” Suzanne says. “I cried as they blessed and passed the sacrament in that small room. I could feel the Savior’s love so strongly and His knowledge of how much I had struggled with this challenge.”

“Showing willingness to make a safe environment at church for people with severe allergies is also showing a willingness to bear one another’s burdens,” says Suzanne.