Gospel Story Finder

I am confident you have heard this story of President Spencer W. Kimball, but I take the liberty of repeating it. He had undergone surgery in the hospital. A young male nurse had placed him on a gurney and was transporting him. When getting on the elevator, the nurse bumped the gurney and let out an oath using the name of the Lord.

President Kimball, only half-conscious, said, “Please! Please! That is my Lord whose name you revile.”

There was a deathly silence; then the young man whispered with a subdued voice, “I am sorry.” (See The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, ed. Edward L. Kimball [1982], 198.)

One night I was sending instant messages on the Internet to Amber, a friend of mine. I can’t recall how we got started, but we were discussing God and my religious beliefs.
“I’m telling you, Ben, I’ve tried to pray before, and it doesn’t work. I just feel like I’m talking to the wall,” Amber wrote.
Relying on everything I had been taught since Primary, I responded, reassuring her that God does hear and answer His children who humbly approach Him. As I was reassuring her, I started to feel less sure myself. I began to feel guilty since I had never actually gotten down on my knees and prayed about all these things. The conversation progressed, and I became increasingly distressed at my lack of a personal testimony. My spiritual progression had been on the back burner for too long.
As a lifelong member of the Church, I sometimes took the gospel for granted. Don’t get me wrong, I knew that being in the Church was good, and I made sure I went to church every Sunday. However, I always depended on the testimonies of others to confirm that the Church was true. I always tried to be faithful, but I did not actively seek to apply Moroni’s promise to myself. Life was too complicated, and I thought there would be plenty of time for me to gain a personal testimony of the Church at some later point.
As I talked with Amber, I realized even more clearly what I was doing. I was neglecting the more spiritual things in my life in favor of trying to keep up with my hectic schedule. When was the last time I had read the scriptures? When was the last time I had a meaningful personal prayer? When was the last time I seriously thought about going on a mission?
Preoccupation with trying to calm my life’s storm by myself had taken away from my focus on building a testimony and having faith in the Lord. Ironically, a solid testimony would have served to make everything else in my life fall into place.
“Amber, don’t give up on praying. He will answer you,” I wrote, while thinking that I should follow my counsel.
Before I went to bed that night, I got on my knees and prayed. I asked to know if the gospel is true and if Heavenly Father was hearing my prayer. I wanted to know Him and feel His presence in my life. I realized then that I simply couldn’t wait any longer to gain a testimony of Him, especially during my turbulent teenage years. I prayed for a long time and knelt in silence for even longer, listening and feeling for the Spirit.
Nothing happened right away, but after I had sufficiently loosened my heart and made a concentrated effort to listen amidst the quiet darkness, I felt a sensation of peace throughout my upper body. As I held on to this defining moment of joy, I knew His Spirit had touched me. Finally, I had a personal testimony of Him that I could share with others. Even though I knew my life would still be hard and full of uncertainties, knowing that He was there for me made all the difference.

Like any self-respecting teenager in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I attended seminary for four consecutive years. This meant long hours of gospel learning in addition to Sunday and family study hours. It was sometimes a difficult and trying experience.
I began seminary in 2017 in our Pare Ward of the Arue Tahiti Stake. I was in 9th grade in school at the time, and I was eager to be part of this youth group.
During my first year, I woke up before 5 a.m. every weekday to get to seminary on time. I did my readings, and I was very attentive in class. I realized seminary contributed to deepening my relationship with God. Without Him, I would not have been able to successfully pass my school’s National Certificate Exam at the end of year 9.
Over the next two years, I gradually became lax in my duties, missing seminary or arriving late more often. I lost my desire to attend seminary, so I was less consistent in my efforts.
Accordingly, my 10th year in school was difficult, but I was unaware at the time of how this was related to my performance in seminary.
In year 11, I started going out with classmates who dabbled in things our Church doesn’t recommend, like alcohol and cigarettes. I even felt a little ashamed of not being like these friends and not hanging out more with them.
Consequently, my annual grades were low and if I had to take the bachelor exam that year, I doubt I would have passed.
Then, the COVID pandemic changed our daily lives, which I thank God for. When seminary classes started up on our smartphones, it was as if to counteract the evil that is also rampant on there.
Although I still had moments of weakness, I decided to hang in there and tried to sincerely follow the lessons of seminary, to benefit from God’s help in my studies.
I am grateful for my parents. Without them, I would have dropped out of seminary and followed the same path as my nonmember friends. As my favorite seminary teachers, they watched over me, making sure I stayed connected to God.
Then, healthy social relationships with the youth of the ward became my lifeline. Our activities together renewed me each time I was not in the mood. Among these friends was Corail Sommers, who never judged but always listened and encouraged and raised me up by her example.
In their own ways, they each contributed to my personal balance.
The discipline of daily immersion in the scriptures paid off in my last year of seminary, which was also my 12th and final year of school.
My seminary study habits allowed me to be better organized. While I’m not a fan of reading, I strove to read daily. It allowed me to maintain my relationship—even a fragile one—with Heavenly Father.
That year, I passed my bachelor diploma with honors. I got my driver’s license on my first try. I received my call to serve a mission in Paris. All in all, the hand of God was in my life the whole time I was in seminary and at school.
Looking back, I testify that God will always help because He loves us.
Seminary is exactly what we need as young people to help us to trust God and to let him prevail in our lives. He always trusted me.

Making and keeping covenants not only binds us to God and His Son but also connects us with one another. Some years ago, I was visiting Costa Rica with family and attended sacrament meeting at a local Church unit. When we entered, we were welcomed warmly by several of the members. During the meeting, we sang the sacrament hymn with the small congregation. We watched the priests prepare the sacrament and then listened as they recited the sacramental prayers. As the bread and water were passed to us, I was overwhelmed with God’s love for each one of these fellow covenant-keepers. I had not met any of them before that meeting but felt unity and kinship with them because we had all made and were striving to keep the same promises to God.

Jenny reached for the nearest pans to put them into the water. “Oh, no!” she thought. “Not the muffin tins!” The muffin tins were always hard to clean. She would have to scrub out each section one at a time and keep checking to make sure they were completely clean.
As Jenny worked, she started thinking about muffins. Her mother had made banana muffins for breakfast that morning. Banana muffins were her favorite kind, and this morning they had been hot and delicious. Jenny had never made muffins before, but she knew her mother had to get up early to make sure they were ready before school. And her mother probably hadn’t gotten much sleep last night because of Elizabeth’s crying. Jenny rinsed the muffin tins carefully and set them out to dry. Somehow, washing the muffin tins didn’t seem like such a chore anymore.

My friends and I decided to give it a try. After a few attempts, we added a significant new component. In addition to becoming more observant ourselves, we shared our selfies with members of our extended families. This helped us to connect with them as we shared our everyday discoveries.
After talking about these “awe walks” for a few weeks, one sister in my ward commented: “Some of us are very involved in family history. This is a good way to supplement our own personal history by talking about our personal insights and observations.”
Another sister, who missed seeing family members during the coronavirus pandemic, said: “During COVID, I felt more alone and isolated than I had in years. Even our children and grandchildren stayed away so that we wouldn’t get the virus. We missed seeing them and talking about their plans. We thought sending these selfies with brief comments could be a good way to express gratitude for our blessings without being preachy.”
Initially, family members didn’t quite know how to respond. Mostly they gave one-word replies like “Nice” or “Interesting.” But as we continued, we received more comments and had conversations with extended family members that otherwise would never have occurred to us.

In my middle school I’m one of the only members of the Church. One day in class the girl sitting next to me said a man who was Mormon wasn’t treated fairly because of his religion. I spoke up and said I was a Mormon too. A lot of people had questions about the Church, and I was able to answer them. It has come up again in class, and I’ve been able to share what I know is true. I know that by sharing my testimony I can be a good missionary to those around me.
Jemma P., age 11, North Carolina

While sitting in a medical clinic waiting room, I noticed a mother with her daughter. The child wore a face mask and coughed many times. Her eyes were sunken, and her face was pale. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Her mother looked worn-out.
The waiting room was small, so I heard everything she said. After she paid her co-pay for their visit, the receptionist reminded her of a past-due balance that was more than double what her current visit cost.
The woman explained, with difficulty controlling her emotions, that she would not have any spare money until the following month. She said she barely had enough to pay her rent. The receptionist told her she should try to pay off her balance as quickly as possible. The woman and her child were then ushered into the back for their appointment.
As I sat there, I couldn’t stop thinking about the woman and her situation. I am by no means wealthy, but when I thought about how good the Lord has been to my family and me, I felt an overwhelming desire to help this woman and her daughter.
I approached the receptionist, wondering if what I wanted to do was even possible. I explained that I had overheard the woman’s predicament and wanted to pay her remaining balance. The receptionist was surprised but also delighted to honor my request.
I asked her to tell the woman that the balance had been paid and that she no longer need worry about it. I also told the receptionist not to say who had paid it. Then I paid the balance and continued with my appointment. I did not see the woman or her daughter again, but I prayed that things would soon improve for them.
It is hard to describe the amazing joy that filled my soul as I left the clinic that day. No wonder the Savior speaks about having a fulness of joy (see Doctrine and Covenants 11:13). More than ever before, I knew that I wanted to be more like my Savior and to experience more often the joy that comes from serving Him.

During the summer of 2001, 17-year-old Tricia Hale had an idea, or a dream as she calls it, to put on a spiritual Christmas dance program that would portray the life of Christ.
She enlisted the help of three friends and fellow dancers (Anna Woolf, 17; Jill Hendrickson, 16; and Donelle Crandell, 16) at her high school in Mesa, Arizona, to turn the dream into reality.
The dancers were on the school’s dance team but had taken issue in the past with music and costumes they felt were inappropriate or not in keeping with Church standards. They wanted to use their talents to present their testimonies of Christ by dancing to sacred music and wearing modest outfits.
The program that resulted would be an experience that strengthened their testimonies and was well-received by family, friends, and the community. Other young women took over after these girls graduated, making the spiritual experience an annual program.
Other dancers are invited to join them in planning, practicing, and performing. Although some of the dancers are not members of the Church, prayer, devotionals, and sharing testimonies are part of rehearsal time.
The free program, entitled “Let There Be Praise,” portrays the life of Christ from birth to resurrection through scriptures, narration, slides, and lyrical dance to hymns and other spiritual music. It drew more than 500 people the first year, and the audience has since grown.
Clint W. Smith, president of the Mesa Kimball Stake, enjoys the performance.
“Dressed in white, these girls are so modest and pure and are able to share their talents and gifts in a way that is very powerful and appropriate,” he says. “It is a wonderful experience for those who are in it and for those who see it.”
McKenzi Fackrell, one of the group’s past presidents, admits it was a lot of work to organize and head up the program. “But it was so worth it,” she says. “It is such a testimony builder.”
After McKenzie graduated, Kelly Allen took over as co-president and chose a younger co-president, Brianna Barba, to work with her.
“I just love it,” says Kelly, who has danced since she was nine years old.
Even though Kelly keeps busy with the school’s dance group and making straight A’s, she’s able to keep her life organized.
“Being involved in this is a big blessing,” she says. “Somehow there is time for everything.”
Brianna has danced in the program since she was in eighth grade. “It has strengthened my testimony so much,” says the honor student, who is also involved in the school’s dance group and competition cheer squad.
In a devotional she told the dancers, “Christ can turn our shabby gifts into a beautiful miracle and a shining star.”
Brianna has been able to use the program for missionary experiences, inviting a friend to dance as Mary and another to perform a vocal solo for one of the dances.
“I knew they would be able to feel the Spirit and also bring their families so they would be able to share in this, too,” she says.
Brianna’s younger sister, Brittney, who performed for the first time as a sophomore, is one of many dancers who uses the experience as a Personal Progress project.
“I chose Individual Worth, because being in this has helped me learn so much about myself,” she says. “When you learn about Christ, you learn more about being a daughter of Heavenly Father and how much He loves you. My testimony has grown so much.”
The program ends with the song “How Great Thou Art,” and the dancers raise their arms in praise.
“The group has never done a curtain call because we want that to be the last thing the audience sees,” says Tricia Hale Campbell, who is now a dance teacher at her own studio and has continued to help the high school students with the program. “This isn’t about the dancers. We feel grateful to use our talents in a spiritual way to focus on the Savior and we give that glory to the Lord.”
Sisters Kelsey, Kali, and Karissa Jarvis say that there are a lot of opportunities to sing or speak your testimony, but not a lot of places to dance your testimony.
“It lets others know that I do have a testimony,” says Kelsey.
Older sister Kali agrees. “You know how you feel bearing your testimony or having a great spiritual experience with someone? It’s the same great feeling, but you get to share it with all these people in dance.”
Kim Hathcock has returned to perform after graduating. “It’s one thing that makes Christmas meaningful for me,” she says.
During high school she performed as Mary. “It really made my testimony grow,” she says. “I also feel like we’re doing service, because so many people who see it comment that this is what gets them into the real Christmas spirit.”
Christy Quintero is a member of a local Christian church. “I thought it would be a good experience to dance to Christian music,” she says. “I really like being with everybody; they are good examples to be around.”
Don Johnson, whose daughter, Aimee, has performed for several years, says he enjoys the “spirit-filled” program.
“These girls are so busy themselves, but they sacrifice to put this on so we can feel the Spirit,” he says. “That’s very Christlike.”
Drama teacher Sandy Stones of the Mesa Kimball Stake is the faculty sponsor for the club and is on hand when the girls practice.
“It’s an honor and privilege for me to sponsor the group,” she says. “They are a light to the school and community.”

A boy in my class is mildly handicapped. (I will call him Joe, not his real name.) He is a slow learner, and he stutters, so everybody thinks he is odd. One day at school when I sat by him, a mean boy thought he was being clever by picking on him. But I didn’t think it was clever at all. Joe went and told the teacher. When the teacher came over, I stood up and told her about other mean things that had been done to Joe that he had not told her.
This summer my mom was talking to his mom, and she told my mom that just about every day after school Joe came home crying. When she said that, it made me feel so good that I had been nice to him.
Lisa Miller, age 9Great Falls Fifth Ward

5 April 2015, President Thomas S. Monson announced in General Conference that a temple would be built in Ivory Coast. Due to the difference in time, most of the members in Ivory Coast did not hear the announcement live, but heard mainly by word of mouth. Large groups gathered in meeting houses later to view the rebroadcast. They patiently waited to hear the “Ivory Coast” name. There was great emotion when they heard the announcement. Brother Mathieu Brou Baah, a family history consultant exclaimed to all around him, “We got our temple!” There was great joy seeing an answer to years of fervent prayers.

Last year I attended Especially for Youth (EFY) for the first time. The days were filled with endless devotionals and personal scripture study. I have never felt the Spirit stronger in my life.
However, on the last day of EFY, I was separated from my friends and felt really lonely. I moodily left my spot at the dinner table and walked out of the cafeteria. As I was walking back to my room, I remembered that I was holding the scriptures in my hands. I recalled my parents saying to me that by reading the scriptures, we can be comforted. I then sat down and began to read.
Right when I had opened my scriptures and began to read, I felt the Holy Ghost. I was overcome with a sense of comfort and joy for the scriptures, and I continued to read. Soon, two people from my group came over and began to read with me. I could tell that they felt the Spirit too.
Ever since that experience, I have had a strong testimony of scripture study and the power and comfort it can give us. I am so thankful for the scriptures and what they can do in our lives.

Now, to a different but related matter.
Last April in our priesthood meeting, I announced a new program. I spoke of the large numbers of our missionaries from South America, Mexico, the Philippines, and other areas. They respond to calls and serve with their North American brothers and sisters. They develop strong testimonies. They learn a new way of life. They are highly effective because they speak their native tongues and know the cultures of their native lands. They enjoy a wonderful season of hard and dedicated work.
Then they are released to go back home. Their families are living in poverty, and many of them fall back into the same situation from which they came, unable to move because of a lack of skills and the consequent difficulty in finding good employment.
I spoke to you of the Perpetual Emigration Fund, which was established in the pioneer era of the Church to assist the poor in coming from England and Europe. A revolving fund was established from which small loans were made, which made it possible for 30,000 to emigrate from their native lands and gather in Zion.
I told you we would apply the same principle and create what would be known as the Perpetual Education Fund. Out of the funds which would be donated by our people, and not from tithing funds, we would create a corpus, the earnings from which would be used to assist our young brethren and sisters in attending school to qualify themselves for better employment. They would develop skills whereby they could earn sufficient to take good care of their families and rise above the poverty level that they and their prior generations had known.
We had nothing in the fund at the time it was planned. But moving forward in faith, we established an organization, modest in its dimensions, to implement that which we felt was necessary. I am pleased to report that the money has come in, tens of thousands of dollars, hundreds of thousands of dollars, even millions. This has come from generous members of the Church who love the Lord and wish to assist the less fortunate of His people in rising in the economic world. We now have a substantial sum. It is not all that we need. We hope that these contributions will continue. The size of the corpus will determine the number who can be helped.
Now, six months later, I wish to give you a report of what has been accomplished. First, we called Elder John K. Carmack, who served so well in the First Quorum of the Seventy and who became an emeritus Seventy with this conference. He is an accomplished attorney, a man of sound judgment in business, a man of great ability. He has been appointed managing director, and though he is retired from the work of the Seventy, he will give his full time to the prosecution of this endeavor.
Elder Richard E. Cook of the Seventy, who likewise has become emeritus, will join him in looking after the finances. Elder Cook was formerly assistant controller of the Ford Motor Company, a man experienced in worldwide finance, a most capable executive, and a man who loves the Lord and the Lord’s children.
We have worn out these brethren on one side, and now have turned them over to wear them out on the other side.
They have associated with them Brother Rex Allen, an expert in organization and training, and Brother Chad Evans, who has vast experience in programs of advanced education.
All contribute their time and expertise without compensation.
The program is up and running. These brethren have been very careful to get it off to a proper start with sound governing principles. We have restricted the area in which it will operate initially, but this area will be expanded as we have the means to do so.
These brethren have gone to work to utilize the existing organization of the Church. The program is priesthood based, and that is why it will succeed. It begins with the bishops and the stake presidents. It involves the Church Educational System, the Employment Services offices, and others who work together in a marvelous spirit of cooperation. It was first implemented in Peru, Chile, and Mexico—areas where the number of returned missionaries is large and the need is great. The local leaders have been enthusiastic and committed. The beneficiaries are learning true principles of self-reliance. Their vision of their potential is greatly broadened. They are selecting good local schools for training and are using, to the extent possible, their personal, family, and other local resources. They are appreciative and willing and deeply grateful for the opportunity afforded them. Let me give you two or three vignettes.
The first is that of a young man who served in the Bolivia Cochabamba Mission. He lives with his faithful mother and nieces in a poor neighborhood. Their little home has a concrete floor, one lightbulb, the roof leaks, and the window is broken. He was a successful missionary. He says:
“My mission was the best thing that I have been able to do in my life. I learned to be obedient to the commandments and to be patient in my afflictions. I also learned some English and to manage my money, my time, and my skills better.
“Then, when I finished my mission, going home was difficult. My American companions went back to a university. But there is a lot of poverty in our country. It is very difficult to get an education. My mother does her best, but she can’t help us. She has suffered so much, and I am her hope.
“When I learned of the Perpetual Education Fund, I felt so happy. The prophet recognized our efforts. I was filled with joy. … There was a possibility I could study, become self-reliant, have a family, help my mother.
“I will study accounting at a local school where I can study and work. It is a short course, just three years long. I have to keep working as a janitor, but that is OK. Once I graduate and get a job in accounting, I will work toward higher education in international business.
“This is our opportunity, and we cannot fail. The Lord trusts us. I have read many times in the Book of Mormon the words the Lord told the prophets, that as we keep the commandments, we would prosper in the land. This is being fulfilled. I am so grateful to God for this great opportunity to receive what my brothers and sisters did not have, to help my family, to accomplish my goals. And I am excited to repay the loan to see others be so blessed. I know the Lord will bless me as I do it.”
Now, isn’t that wonderful? Now another. A young man in Mexico City was approved to receive a loan of approximately $1,000 to make it possible for him to attend school to become a diesel mechanic. He has said: “My promise is to give my best in order to feel satisfied with my efforts. I know this program is valuable and important. Because of this, I am trying to take maximum advantage of this for the future. I will be able to serve and help the poor and help counsel my family members. I thank my Father in Heaven for this beautiful and inspired program.”
A loan was recently approved for another young man from Mexico City, who served in the Nevada Las Vegas Mission. He desires to become a dental technician. His training will require 15 months of dedicated work. He says, “My promise upon finishing my studies at the technical school with the help of the Perpetual Education Fund is to repay the loan so that other returned missionaries can enjoy these blessings.”

Although he learned the gospel while young, Greg Larsen (name has been changed) of California, USA, later fell away. He became involved with drugs and crime and soon found himself in prison. He wanted to turn his life around but was not sure how.

“Men from the local ward taught Sunday School in the prison,” wrote Greg. “One of them told me my life would get better if I read the Book of Mormon. And that is what I did.

“When I got out of prison, I went back to church, but I still had the urge to revert back to my old habits. As I continued to read the Book of Mormon, I learned about the people of King Lamoni in Alma 19:33, whose ‘hearts had been changed; that they had no more desire to do evil.’ I began to pray for this change of heart.”

Greg found the answer to his prayer in Helaman 15:7, which teaches that “faith and repentance bringeth a change of heart.”

“As I read those words, tears streamed down my face. The Spirit testified that my Heavenly Father loved me and would help me. I felt that if I had enough faith to speak to my bishop, it would be enough. As I laid my sins at the Savior’s feet, I received a true change of heart.”

After experiencing some unexpected financial obligations as a single woman, I knew I needed to find a second job. Soon afterward, Marty, a sister in my ward, approached me and asked for my help. She and her husband were going on a mission, so she had to give up her job. She explained that every Saturday she helped an elderly woman, Ruth, who lived in an assisted-living complex. Marty offered me her job and told me that Ruth would pay me for my work.
The following Monday, Marty and Ruth explained my tasks, and I began my work a few days later. I started by gathering Ruth’s laundry and carrying it upstairs to the laundry room. Soon after I began, Ruth rushed in and shouted at me. She told me that I was never to wash her clothes without first asking.
I was doing only what she and Marty had asked me to do. Frustrated and hurt, I fought back the tears. I told myself that I didn’t need any more stress or problems in my life. I would have walked out that very moment had I not promised Marty that I would care for Ruth while she was away.
Week after week Ruth shouted angrily at me over everything I did. It seemed that I could never please her no matter how hard I tried.
I started praying for strength to endure Ruth and her harsh words, but nothing changed. I continued to resent having to help her.
Then one day I changed my prayers. I stopped praying for myself and started praying for Ruth. I asked Heavenly Father to help me understand her needs and how I could help her.
From that day forward everything changed. My heart softened, and my love for Ruth grew. Ruth changed as well. She opened up and shared her life, her joys, and her sorrows. She told me she missed her family. She told me of the wonderful things she had done in her past but could no longer do. She told me she was lonely and sad.
I began to look forward to seeing Ruth each week, and she looked forward to seeing me.
My experience with Ruth taught me a valuable lesson. When I truly served with my whole heart, I came to understand President Spencer W. Kimball’s (1895–1985) teaching that “in the midst of the miracle of serving, there is the promise of Jesus, that by losing ourselves, we find ourselves” (“Small Acts of Service,” Ensign, Dec. 1974, 2).

Dixie and her friend Jimmy struggled up the steep bank of the ravine. In one arm she carried a large black cat with an orange spot on its nose. “I’m going to call her Desdemona,” she panted, scrambling up onto the sidewalk.

Jimmy scrambled up beside her. “That’s a strange name,” he said.

“My mother told me about a beautiful cat she once had named that.” Dixie stroked the cat as it nestled comfortably in her arm. “Maybe she’ll feel more like letting me keep her if we call her Desdemona.”

“Maybe,” Jimmy said. Then he frowned and added, “I didn’t think that they allowed pets in your condo.”

“Well, not dogs, but a few people have cats.”

“She may belong to someone,” Jimmy said, warning his friend to not become too attached to the cat. “She doesn’t look starved.”

“Bobby Feltz told me that she sleeps in an abandoned shed and eats mice and squirrels in the ravine.”

“Maybe,” Jimmy said. “Maybe not.”

“Oh, oh. They’re out on the porch.” Dixie stopped abruptly as they approached a large Victorian house. Several elderly people sat in rocking chairs on the large front porch. “I hate going past here.”

“They don’t bother me,” Jimmy said. “My grandpa’s in a rest home.”

“Oh.” Dixie didn’t know what to say to that.

They were in front of the home now, and one man had come down the front walk and stood leaning on a cane, watching them. “You there,” he said. His voice was hoarse and raspy, but commanding.

Jimmy stopped. “What do you want?” he asked.

“I want to see that cat,” the old man said, pointing at Desdemona. “Bring it up onto the porch. The ladies want to see it too.”

Jimmy turned toward the house, and Dixie followed reluctantly.

“What’s your name?” Jimmy asked as they climbed the wooden stairs.

“Colonel Stayner.” The old man turned to the women. “Ladies,” he said, “look what these fine young people have brought for you to see. Children, this is Miss Bessie.” Dixie and Jimmy nodded, but Miss Bessie only looked at her hands. Dixie thought that the old lady’s face was the saddest face that she’d ever seen. “This is Mrs. Jones,” Colonel Stayner went on, nodding toward a lady who was staring into space. She looks grumpy and cross, Dixie thought. “And this is Sarah.” Sarah smiled kindly at them. “Look at this nice cat,” the colonel said.

Miss Bessie lifted her head very slowly and looked at the cat in Dixie’s arms. She slowly raised her hands toward Desdemona.

“Let her hold the cat,” the colonel rasped.

Dixie reluctantly placed the cat in the lap of the sad old woman, and the cat promptly curled up and began to purr. Miss Bessie slowly stroked the cat with her wrinkled hand.

“What a lovely cat,” said the lady introduced only as Sarah. “What’s her name?”

“Desdemona,” Dixie answered.

“Desdemona,” Sarah repeated. “That’s a beautiful name, but what made you think of it?”

“My mother had a cat named Desdemona, so I named her that.”

Sarah smiled. “What a thoughtful girl you are,” she said.

“I want to hold the cat!”

Dixie was startled by Mrs. Jones’s loud voice.

“After Miss Bessie,” the colonel said kindly.

“After Bessie, after Bessie!” Mrs. Jones shrilled. “She gets everything first.”

A moment later the colonel picked the cat up off Miss Bessie’s lap and put it on Mrs. Jones’s lap. Desdemona settled comfortably again.

“She’s a real people cat,” the colonel said.

Dixie nodded. Desdemona seemed to love all the attention given her by the old people.

Finally the colonel picked Desdemona up quickly from Mrs. Jones’s lap. She grabbed at the cat but missed, and the colonel put her back in Dixie’s arms.

“Please may I pet her a minute before you go?” Sarah asked. When Dixie stepped closer to the old lady, she stroked the gleaming black fur with her tiny hand. “Desdemona,” she said slowly. “You can call her Desi for short.”

“Yeah,” Dixie said. It really wasn’t a bad idea.

“We have to go now—it’s dinnertime,” Jimmy said.

“You young people come again,” the colonel commanded.

“And bring Desi,” Sarah said.

The children clomped down the steps. They didn’t say anything until they were well past the old house.

“Were they really so bad?” Jimmy finally asked.

“Well, Sarah and the colonel seemed pretty normal, but Mrs. Jones kind of gave me the creeps.”

When Dixie reached home, her mother asked, “Where did you get that cat?”

“In the ravine. She doesn’t belong to anyone—I checked. Her name is Desdemona. Isn’t she beautiful?” Dixie set Desdemona down on the floor, and the cat walked calmly around, her tail high and regal. She rubbed against Mother’s legs.

Mother smiled. “My Desdemona was pussy-willow gray.”

“May I keep her, Mom—please?”

“Even if she doesn’t belong to anyone else—she’ll still need shots and things, and that all costs money.”

“I could pay at least part of it out of my own money,” Dixie pleaded.

“Well, Dixie, I guess you can keep the cat if no owner shows up, but she’ll have to have a box and be confined in the apartment all day while I’m at work and you’re at school. She may not like that.”

In school the next day, Dixie kept thinking about Desi’s being alone in the apartment all day. “A people cat,” the colonel had said, and it was true. Desi liked everybody. And she liked lots of attention.

When Dixie unlocked the door to her apartment that afternoon, Desi streaked past her and down the steps, raced across the lawn and up the trunk of a sycamore tree, and sat on a branch, swishing her tail wildly back and forth.

“Come on, Desi,” Dixie called. “Come here.”

Finally the cat ran down the tree trunk, across the lawn, up the steps, and into the apartment. Dixie followed and gathered Desdemona into her arms. “Was it awful being in here alone all day? It was nice to have you to come home to, but you must have been lonely.”

“A people cat.” The colonel’s voice echoed in Dixie’s mind, and she remembered Miss Bessie’s scrawny hands raised toward the cat. “What a thoughtful girl you are,” Sarah had said. And Mrs. Jones: “I want the cat!”

Dixie hadn’t realized that old people loved animals too. Still holding Desi, Dixie headed for the rest home. The colonel and Sarah waved as she approached.

“It’s the girl with the cat,” Sarah said to Miss Bessie, who raised her head slightly.

Dixie climbed the steps and put Desi into Mrs. Jones’s lap. Mrs. Jones still looked off across the lawn, but her hand came down gently on Desi’s warm back. Desi purred loudly.

“You came back,” the colonel stated. “Mrs. Jones will keep the cat forever if you don’t take it from her. She’s selfish.”

Mrs. Jones stopped stroking the cat and turned her face slowly toward Dixie. “Bessie’s turn,” she said, putting the cat in Miss Bessie’s lap, where Desie again purred contentedly.

Almost before she thought, Dixie asked, “Could you keep her here?”

Miss Bessie stopped petting the cat and raised her head, her face brightening a little.

“She’s your cat,” the colonel said.

“I just found her. And I have to leave her alone all day. She’d be happier here.”

The colonel limped toward the door and called, “Mrs. Samson!”

A large woman in a white uniform came quickly and stood in the doorway.

“This fine young lady wants to give us this beautiful cat named Desdemona,” he said.

Mrs. Samson regarded Desdemona curled up in Miss Bessie’s lap. “We had a cat here once several years ago. This one looks like a civilized sort. Why not?”

Sarah smiled her sweet smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Samson,” she said. Then she turned to Dixie. “You are the nicest girl I’ve met in some time. Come by often and see Desi—and us.”

“I will,” Dixie said.

Walking home, she kept picturing the happiness on the old people’s faces when Mrs. Samson had said that the cat could stay. Miss Bessie had even smiled slightly. Tomorrow, Dixie thought, maybe Jimmy will go with me to visit them all.

Gennevieve Acain De Jesus traveled from Palawan with her family, after saving up with her seven-year old daughter for more than a year, selling baked goods, arrozcaldo, and champorado.
Her mother was supposed to be with them but she unexpectedly passed away weeks before the trip. Gennevieve brought a photo of her parents and snapped a picture with the temple in the background, symbolizing that they were still with her in spirit.
“When we saw the Temple, the burden was lifted off my back,” Gennevieve said.
They met old friends and new acquaintances.
“They were hugging us and happy to meet us,” she described. “The whole experience was like a gathering of Israel, a glimpse of a great reunion on Christ’s second coming.”

Elder Wayne S. Peterson shared this story in general conference about the importance of kindness and choosing to act:
Many years ago, while on vacation with my family, I had an experience that taught me a great lesson. On a Saturday, my wife and I decided to take the children for a drive and to do some shopping. During the drive the children fell asleep, and not wanting to wake them, I volunteered to stay in the car while my wife ran into the store. While waiting, I glanced at the car parked in front of me. It was full of children, and they were looking at me. My eyes caught the eyes of a small boy, six or seven years old. As our eyes met, he immediately stuck his tongue out at me. My first reaction was to stick my tongue out at him. I thought, What have I done to deserve this? Fortunately, before I reacted, I remembered a principle taught in general conference the week before by Elder Marvin J. Ashton. He taught how important it was to act instead of react to the events around us. So I waved at the little boy. He stuck his tongue out at me again. I smiled and waved again. This time he waved back. Soon he was joined in his enthusiastic waving by a little brother and sister. I responded by waving this way and that until my arm became tired. Then I rested it on the steering wheel and continued with every creative wave I could muster, all the time hoping their parents would quickly return or that my wife would soon come back. The parents finally did come, and as they pulled away, my newfound friends continued to wave for as long as I could see them. That was a simple experience, but it demonstrated that in most encounters we can determine the kind of experience we are going to have by how we respond. I was grateful that I chose to act in a friendly way rather than react to my young friend's childish behavior. In doing so I avoided the negative feelings I would have felt had I followed my natural instinct.

I wish to share a personal experience of how the Lord has blessed my wife and me as we have sought his assistance and prepared ourselves for His use. Along with hymns, in times of need, I also draw upon life's experiences to help bolster my testimony. This is one of those fond experiences that I draw upon to help me remember that the Savior has been instrumental in my life and cares about me.

In the summer of 1997, I was about to complete graduate school and was heavily involved in all the details that go along with completing such a monumental life task. At the same time, I was seeking employment in my field for the coming school year and had been seeking employment on the university level for a year previous. It was late in the hiring season for a prospective university professor and my wife and I were concerned about the possibility of having to seek employment that was not career-related. During the peak of this concern, two events transpired that were most memorable to me as I felt the Lord's hand in assisting my life's direction.

The first event was a strong impression received following a phone call. For some time I had considered a certain occupation that had proven successful for several of my friends. On the day that I finally decided to act, I located the contact numbers that had sat dormant in my files for many months. Following my first phone call toward this end, I was most strongly prompted not to pursue this line of work. Although discouraged, I ceased at that moment from pursing that path.

Not knowing how to proceed, and in an uncharacteristic request of despair, my wife and I decided to call our home teachers for a blessing to help me find employment for the coming year. Our home teachers came and offered such a blessing. The following afternoon, the memorable second event transpired. In the most unexpected way, I received a phone call from a university department chair offering me employment for the coming year. Please understand that this was not a person that I knew or an institution that I had even applied for employment as I was unaware of their need for a person with my expertise. Clearly, this was a blessing from above and I cherish the fact that I was being watched over. My faith was bolstered and life was good. I soon learned, however, that this was only a phase of the training that the Lord had in store for me. The years following that phone call turned out to be extremely challenging years and, at times, I questioned whether I had been divinely directed. It was not until I began work here at BYU-Hawaii in the fall of 2000 that I realized why the Lord had prepared my wife and me in such a way.

From these experiences, I gained personal testimony that blessings come after the trial of faith, after all we can do, and in the Lord's time. I also learned that if we are to be instrumental in His work, He needs to become an instrumental part of our work. He was for me in these critical times of my life and my wife and I are forever thankful for that blessing.

Hola! I’m Elena. It’s my first time going to the temple.
A few weeks ago, I met with my bishop. He asked me some questions to help make sure I was ready to go to the temple. (You can read the questions on page 35!) Then he gave me my own temple recommend.
We’re getting ready to go. I get dressed in my Sunday best. I also pack some things to fix my hair after it gets wet. And I make sure I have my recommend. Now we’re off to catch the bus!
There’s the temple! It’s so beautiful.
When I walk inside the temple, I feel peaceful. I show my recommend to the nice temple worker at the front desk. Another temple worker gives me a white jumpsuit. I go to the locker room to change.
Now I wait for my turn to be baptized. When it’s my brother’s turn, I stand by the font to be a witness. I make sure he goes all the way under the water.
It’s my turn now! The water is warm. I’m baptized for several people in a row.
When I get out, a temple worker hands me a towel. I rinse off in the dressing room and change back into my Sunday clothes. When I come out, a temple worker takes me to be confirmed for several people.
My time in the temple was really special! I’m happy I could help others by being baptized and confirmed for them. I can’t wait to come back again soon.