Gospel Story Finder

President Thomas S. Monson, First Counselor in the First Presidency: “As our youngest son, Clark, was approaching his 12th birthday, he and I were leaving the Church Administration Building when President Harold B. Lee approached and greeted us. I mentioned that Clark would soon be 12, whereupon President Lee turned to him and asked, ‘What happens to you when you turn 12?’
“… Clark, without hesitation, said to President Lee, ‘I will be ordained a deacon!’
“The answer was the one President Lee had sought. He then counseled our son, ‘Remember, it is a great blessing to hold the priesthood.’”

One Sunday morning during a general session of stake conference, I was asked to visit Junior Sunday School and give the boys and girls an inspirational message. I wanted to tell them about the great Book of Mormon prophet Alma, and so I asked them if they knew who Alma was.
Much to my surprise the children started laughing and one of them, pointing, said, “Of course we know! Alma’s right there.”
Then the teacher asked four-year-old Alma to stand and say his full name. He had a real Dutch family name—van het Schip—and he came from the small Dutch village of Zoetermeer (Sweeter Lake).
To these Junior Sunday School children my message about Alma became much more meaningful when I told them that the great prophet Alma was once a boy like Alma van het Schip and that because he grew up in the light of the gospel, was obedient, and learned so much about our Heavenly Father’s plan of salvation, the Lord later called him to become a great teacher and a mighty prophet. I also told them that all of Heavenly Father’s children, whatever their names may be, have an opportunity to serve the Lord when they live righteously and obey His commandments.

I was excited to go to youth conference, but then I found out there were lots of rules—for example, no cell phones and no going outside alone. It seemed like adults were constantly keeping an eye on us. But I had a great time, made a lot of friends, worked on a service project, and learned about the gospel.
During a testimony meeting on the last day of youth conference, one of the leaders talked about how much he loves us, the youth in the stake.
If you love us, why do we have so many restrictions here? I thought. At that same moment, like he could read my mind, he answered my question.
Leaders put rules in place, he said, not to annoy us but for our safety. The moment he said that, I was touched by the Spirit. I understood that Heavenly Father gives us commandments for the same reason. They are not to annoy us; they are to help us return safely to Him (see Doctrine and Covenants 82:2–9).
The Holy Ghost touched me and helped me to know that this is true.
Serge P., Île-de-France, France

Roxy loved looking at all the houses in her neighborhood as she walked home from school. One house had a dog that barked and jumped up and down in the window. Another house had birds chirping in the trees.
And then there was Mrs. Banks’s house. Mrs. Banks had been her third-grade teacher, and she was Roxy’s favorite. Roxy always waved at Mrs. Banks when she saw her sitting on the chair on her front porch. Mrs. Banks was always friendly and happy.
But today the chair on the porch was empty. The house looked quiet. Even Mrs. Banks’s cat, Chester, was gone.
Roxy remembered her mom saying that Mrs. Banks was sick. She went to the hospital every day for treatments. Roxy felt sad. She wanted to do something nice for Mrs. Banks. But what?
Roxy looked around at the bees flying from flower to flower. Then she had an idea!
Roxy ran home and picked a rose from her garden. She went back to Mrs. Banks’s house and placed it on the front porch.
The next day Roxy put a sunflower on Mrs. Banks’s chair. And the day after that, she put a daisy by her front door. Each day for two weeks, Roxy left a flower for Mrs. Banks. She was careful not to be seen.
One day on her way home, Roxy saw Mrs. Banks sitting on the front porch. She was holding some flowers in her hand.
“Roxy,” Mrs. Banks said, “look at my beautiful flowers. Someone has been leaving them for me. Each day a new flower was waiting for me when I got home from the hospital.”
Roxy smiled. “Do you know who it was?”
Mrs. Banks smiled back. “Whoever it was, I’d like to thank them.”
“It was probably someone who loves you!” Roxy said.
“Well, I looked forward to finding a new flower each day,” said Mrs. Banks. “The first flower was on my porch.”
“Do you think your cat left it?” Roxy asked.
“Chester likes to leave me surprises, but he’s never left flowers.” Mrs. Banks laughed. “What about the flower on my chair?”
“The dog down the street?” Roxy smiled even bigger.
“By my front door?”
“A squirrel?”
“Oh my,” said Mrs. Banks, laughing. “I didn’t realize there were so many creatures who love me! But the flowers sure did help me feel special.”
Roxy was almost bursting with happiness. She was glad she helped make Mrs. Banks smile again.
This story took place in the USA.

In 1986, I was invited to give a special lecture at a university in Accra, Ghana. There I met a number of dignitaries, including an African tribal king. As we visited prior to the lecture, the king spoke to me only through his linguist, who then translated for me. I responded to the linguist, and the linguist then translated my responses to the king.
After my lecture, the king made his way directly to me, but this time without his linguist. To my surprise, he spoke in perfect English—the Queen’s English, I might add!
The king seemed puzzled. “Just who are you?” he asked.
I replied, “I am an ordained Apostle of Jesus Christ.”
The king asked, “What can you teach me about Jesus Christ?”
I responded with a question: “May I ask what you already know about Him?”
The king’s response revealed he was a serious student of the Bible and one who loved the Lord.
I then asked if he knew about the ministry of Jesus Christ to the people of ancient America.
As I expected, he did not.
I explained that after the Savior’s Crucifixion and Resurrection, He came to the people of ancient America, where He taught His gospel. He organized His Church and asked His disciples to keep a record of His ministry among them.
“That record,” I continued, “is what we know as the Book of Mormon. It is another testament of Jesus Christ. It is a companion scripture to the Holy Bible.”
At this point, the king became very interested. I turned to the mission president accompanying me and asked if he had an extra copy of the Book of Mormon with him. He pulled one from his briefcase.
I opened it to 3 Nephi chapter 11, and together the king and I read the Savior’s sermon to the Nephites. I then presented the copy of the Book of Mormon to him. His response lodged in my mind and heart forever: “You could have given me diamonds or rubies, but nothing is more precious to me than this additional knowledge about the Lord Jesus Christ.”
After experiencing the power of the Savior’s words in 3 Nephi, the king proclaimed, “If I am converted and join the Church, I will bring my whole tribe with me.”
“Oh, King,” I said, “it doesn’t work that way. Conversion is an individual matter. The Savior ministered to the Nephites one by one. Each individual receives a witness and testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ.”

On a cool, sunny morning, the missionaries in the Dominican Republic Santo Domingo West Mission gathered in the San Geronimo chapel in Santo Domingo. This special occasion brought them together to listen to an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ and to other authorities of the Church and be “nourished up in the words of faith and of good doctrine” (1 Timothy 4:6).
Elder D. Todd Christofferson arrived early, accompanied by his beloved wife, Sister Katherine Jacob Christofferson, Elder José L. Alonso of the Seventy and his wife, Rebecca Salazar, and Elder Cándido Fortuna, Area Seventy and his wife, Sister Damaris Rosario. They were received by President José M. Santos, who presides over the mission, also accompanied by his wife, Madeleine Guzmán De Santos.
The meeting began with a beautiful prelude, after which Elder Christofferson and those who were with him greeted and shook the hand of each missionary.
A missionary choir performed a hymn in English and Spanish, creating an atmosphere of peace and preparing everyone present for this special gathering.
Elder Christofferson asked those who accompanied him to share a brief message. The messages focused on their feelings about the Book of Mormon, the restoration of the gospel, missionary work, and the sacred mission of our Savior, Jesus Christ.
“A missionary must be constantly inviting people to act,” Elder Fortuna said while addressing the missionaries.
In his message, Elder Alonso made reference to the words found in 1 Nephi 3:7. He taught that Heavenly Father provides us with a way to fulfill what He has commanded us. When concluding his remarks, he thanked the missionaries for what they do in the work of the Lord.
Sister Christofferson addressed the missionaries, speaking both in English and Spanish so that the message she shared was understood in its entirety by the new missionaries and those who already had spent some time in the mission field. She shared with them the scripture found in 2 Kings 4:1–7 and taught them that at that time it was customary for creditors to take the children of debtors as part of the payment of the debt as was the case in this scripture.
The woman in the scripture story obeyed Elisha and borrowed all the vessels she could from her neighbors. She filled them from her one pot of oil and noted that the oil stopped flowing only when there were no more vessels to fill. It is interesting to note that not only was she given enough to pay the debt she had, but also to cover her living expenses in the future. “There are two important teachings here,” Sister Christofferson said. “First that the Lord will provide for those who have faith in Him and second that we must be prepared to receive what God wants to give us.” Sister Christofferson concluded her remarks by thanking everyone for their missionary service in this country.
In his concluding remarks as the keynote speaker, Elder Christofferson addressed the missionaries in Spanish. He highlighted the messages shared by each of those who preceded him. He told them: “As my wife indicated, we receive everything we are prepared to receive.” Then he asked the missionaries what things they could do to prepare themselves to receive the blessings that have been promised.
“Be obedient,” replied one of the missionaries, to which Elder Christofferson added that they can take advantage of what God has already given them, that is, the commandments. He said, “The commandments are like stairs that help elevate us each step” to be closer to Him.
He continued by inviting the missionaries to fast once a month, as this will help them have the Spirit and open their minds and hearts to receive greater revelation. He also told them: “By studying the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon, I not only learn, but I also correct myself.” He indicated that one can be better when studying the scriptures. He stressed that also by sharing one’s testimony, “we receive testimony. … The Spirit testifies to you that what you share is true.” He added that we should “ask in prayer” showing that we want more. “We can ask, according to His will, for more, for what we need,” he concluded.
At the end of his remarks, he left them with a special blessing. He told them: “I bless you so that you may have greater power in your teaching, by teaching the principles of the gospel, greater capacity and greater convincing and persuasive power in your teaching. …May people feel that deep love that you have for them, whether members or nonmembers, that you get answers to your prayers.” He concluded his remarks sharing his testimony about the truthfulness of the gospel, that Jesus Christ directs His Church and, just like the Prophet Joseph Smith, President Nelson was also called by God.

You probably have not seen too many photos of General Authorities in their young adult years with facial hair that would disqualify them from enrolling at BYU. Well, I was not then a member of the Church. I was a university student working part-time at McDonald’s, where I met a young woman who was sufficiently alert to see some potential in me and to encourage our relationship, for which I am most grateful. She would often arrange with the manager—unbeknownst to me—for us to be assigned the closing shift together. As she had no transport home, I would give her a lift, and we quickly fell in love. It was she who introduced me to the true gospel of Jesus Christ.
So I recommend McDonald’s! And I recommend finding an eternal companion who will always love the Lord first.

Bishop Prince Mensah graciously shared his remarkable journey with the young single adults in a Sunday meeting. He began by telling the classroom about his experiences as the first young high councilor in the Ashaiman Ghana Stake. This period, though undoubtedly challenging, became a transformative chapter in his life.
Reflecting on the early days of his marriage, he recounted the financial constraints they faced as a young couple. “I remember when my wife was pregnant with our first child; sometimes, she had to make do with banku paired with ground pepper, a few tomatoes, and occasionally, small fishes we affectionately called Keta school boys. Despite these hardships, she selflessly sacrificed to support me in fulfilling my calling.” Bishop Mensah recalled.
Eight months into their marriage, Bishop Mensah received the call to serve as a high councilor, which made it necessary to travel frequently from Adjei Kojo Kanewu to Kpone, (23 kilometers) for his assignments. With a monthly salary of GH390, he juggled the responsibilities of overseeing the young single adults, committee meetings, stake ushers, and various other duties. Traveling to Kpone and chartering a taxi to reach the meeting house added to the financial strain.
In recounting his service, he emphasized the invaluable lessons learned during this time. He proudly shared how he assisted President Alexandar Boateng in tasks such as packing seminary and institute books and marking attendance. Little did he know that these seemingly mundane responsibilities were preparing him for future opportunities.
As the interview for his current job position unfolded, Bishop Mensah found unexpected ease. Three out of the four panelists knew him personally. Despite lacking a formal degree, the panelists, having witnessed his unwavering dedication and hard work, recognized his potential. He secured the position, and this turning point marked a significant change in his and his family’s life.
What initially appeared as a sacrifice revealed itself as divine preparation for more promising opportunities. Through the assignments entrusted to him by his stake president, Isaac Morrison, (then stake president of the Ashaiman stake and currently a General Authority Seventy) and President Alexander Boateng (then first councilor and program administrator for Accra coordinating area seminary and institute, recently called as a mission leader to the Ghana Kumasi Mission), his service not only impacted his personal growth but also became a steppingstone to a brighter future. Bishop Mensah’s story serves as a testament to the transformative power of dedication, service, and divine guidance. It is good for the young single adults and for all of us to remember this.

Always live the standards in the For the Strength of Youth pamphlet, and avoid “unholy places.” To enter the temple, we must be worthy. It helps when we stand in holy places now. That means avoiding places and times when we would be tempted to make wrong choices. I recall a story by President J. Reuben Clark Jr. (1871–1961), a counselor in the First Presidency, about his teenage daughter. She was leaving for a dance, and he said, “Have fun, my dear. Be back by midnight.” She replied, “Daddy, this is the night of the prom. We go to the dance and are not back until early morning.” President Clark responded, “Yes, I know that is what many will be doing. But you must be back before midnight.” She, then, in desperation said, “Daddy, you just don’t trust me!” To which he replied, “My dear, in the wrong place, at the wrong time, I don’t even trust myself. Be back by midnight.”3

I would like to conclude with an experience we had in March 2000. Sister Andersen and I were invited to attend the temple dedication in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I knew that I would be asked to speak and that my remarks should be brief.

We entered the celestial room dressed in white. President Hinckley sat in the middle chair with a member of the Twelve on his right and with me on his left. As we reverently awaited the first session, I felt a distinct and specific impression that I should adjust the remarks I had prepared. The impression came: “Speak of the keys. Speak of the keys.”

I quickly turned to the scriptures to locate the passages that explain the keys of the priesthood being returned to the earth. Then—and I can remember it as if it were yesterday—a powerful spiritual feeling came into my mind and heart. The feeling that burned within me was this: “He who sits next to you holds all the priesthood keys upon the earth. He who sits next to you holds all the priesthood keys upon the earth.”

I took a deep breath. I looked over at President Hinckley. I could not deny the powerful manifestation of the Spirit. I thought of this scripture:

For his word ye shall receive, as if from mine own mouth. . . .
For by doing these things the gates of hell shall not prevail against you; yea, and the Lord God will disperse the powers of darkness from before you, and cause the heavens to shake for your good. [D&C 21:5–6]

My husband and I recently completed a project which to us serves as a kind of analogy for celestial family building—we built a house.
From the time when both of us were young and we didn’t even know each other, we had dream houses in mind. Mine was full of loved ones, sunshine, warmth, creativity, smells of good things cooking, and was surrounded by trees and flowers. His was a peaceful haven from the world, warm and cozy—with a fire in the fireplace, a bookcase full of books, his favorite music playing, and the smell of good things cooking. When we met and married, the building of that house came high on our list of priorities. We felt that creating our physical environment here on earth would be a wise use of our stewardship. (It was also the only way we could afford a house like we wanted.) We believed in Winston Churchill’s statement: “First we shape our buildings; thereafter they shape us.” We spent years studying homes by the master designers and architects and looking at homes. Finally we found the ideal location for the house—and then our planning began in earnest. As we paid for the property, we drew house plans and collected ideas from books, magazines, and other homes. We kept our ideas in a folder, then a box, then several boxes.
We tried to draw our own house plans, but our drawings never quite matched the ideal in our minds, so we searched for a designer to help us. We found one who shared our ideas of what a home should be and was willing to help us plan the kind of home we wanted. In fact, because of his own special abilities, he added dimensions we could not have conceived of. Throughout the planning and building, we prayed for help and guidance, and our prayers were answered often in surprising ways.
Some builders told us we could not build the home we had in mind for the money we could afford to spend. Some told us to throw away our dreams. “A standard plan is easier and cheaper to build,” they said. But we were not interested in the easiest thing to do; we had a dream. So we decided to build it ourselves.
The time of building was exciting—and discouraging. It seemed to take forever, but finally there was a footing, a foundation, a wall. One small step at a time, the house took shape. Sometimes we made mistakes and had to do things over. Other times we had to compromise and settle for less than the ideal. Often we went back to the designer and the blueprints for clarification and help. We worked very hard day after day—sometimes doing big, impressive things like putting up a wall or nailing down a floor, but more often doing chores that didn’t show but were still important. We did much of the work ourselves, but occasionally it was necessary to hire experts who possessed skills or tools we did not have.
At last the big day arrived. We packed up our belongings and moved into our dream home. It is not quite perfect, but it is warm, full of people we love, sunshine, creativity, books, music, and the smell of good things cooking. And sometimes it is even peaceful and quiet—after midnight and before 6:00 A.M.

The sky was so clear that Saturday morning, the 30th of July, 1977, that it was like a day when one can see forever, as the lyrics of a popular song beautifully describe.
A man seasoned by the salty air of the sea for a good portion of his life and by the smell of the soil in later years sat under the shade of a mango tree, watching with curiosity and with some measure of amusement the well-dressed people of all ages who came in droves, on foot and by car, to a two-hectare farm adjoining his property.
It was a funny sight for the quiet barrio folks whose existence has always been away from the trappings of civilization. The city folks came in companies of tens and twenties. As the man saw it, something was odd for these people—who obviously came from different places—to meet on common ground with warmth of friendship and unity in purpose, all with faces brimming with inspiring joy and eagerness to soil their hands by menial work.
The visitors were indeed an odd mixture: lawyers, engineers, accountants, educators, missionaries, housewives, and an assortment from all walks of life. Among them were stake presidents, bishops, a mission president, an elderly missionary couple on welfare assignment, and a visitor from Salt Lake City (Clare Bishop of the General Welfare Committee of the Church).
Barrio Gahak in Kawit, Cavite Province was never like this, the man must have mused, as the visiting city dwellers took off their shoes, rolled thier pants and proceeded to pull weeds and cut the tall grass that abounded in the farm. The man could have well asked the question "What are these peculiar people doing in a place like this?" and still be perplexed by the answer he would get.
Bishop Eligio T. Ollero of Makati 2nd Ward chose a spot near the vantage point of the man who was then enjoying the spectacle with mean delight. Sometime later, as sweat formed on his brow, Bishop Ollero glanced obliquely at the man. He was still looking on with undisguised amusement. The Bishop smiled at him. The man smiled back with an expression of mischief.
The Bishop paused from his work and walked over to the man for a brief respite with him under the shade. It was during this moment of pleasant encounter that an unseen divine hand must have rested on the two men as they conversed.
Whatever transpired under the shade, which was made exhilarating by the soft touch of the countryside breeze and by a divine presence, only the man, Bishop Ollero and the Lord will understand.
Bishop Ollero rose to resume his work. The man quickly followed the Bishop and started pulling weeds beside him. The Bishop smiled at him as they worked. The man, no longer with the look of derisive amusement on his face, smiled back!—Posidio Ocampo, Jr.
Note: The man, 78-year old Apolinario Topacio Santiaguel, a retired U.S. Navy serviceman and now a farmer, was baptized by Bro. Erasmo L. Caerlang and confirmed by Bro. Daniel H. Apilado in the Makati Chapel three and a half months later, on November 12, 1977.

I’m Dallin. I love singing, acting, playing instruments, and doing basically anything outdoors. My teacher asked me to join her choir. I told her I would but I would not perform on Sunday. She said she had other Mormons in her choir, so she never had performances on Sunday. I was so happy that there were others before me who stood up for their standards. I know Heavenly Father will provide a way for you to be happy and keep your standards.
Dallin P., Arizona, USA

W hen I was 12 years old, my father was in the bishopric. There were benefits, such as being able to give my tithing to my father, but there were also some unexpected downsides. For example, people expected more of me. And there was another downside that was much more treacherous.
One day, as I sat at the computer, typing up an assignment, my father sat down beside me and started asking about my day. Not seeing a trap, I answered his questions. Then, he asked a question no one had ever asked me before.
“Zachary, will you give a talk next Sunday?”
I felt the color drain from my face. I frantically searched for a reason to not be there, but my father knew that I would be. He rambled something about it being a short talk and that I needn’t worry, but my mind was moving too quickly to actually comprehend what he was saying.
I had stage fright. How could I give a talk? I had never given a public speech outside of the Primary room! Tears welled up as I felt the weight of a seemingly impossible task. My father wrapped his arms around me and told me that if I was too scared, I didn’t have to do it.
However, just then, I began to feel something that I had never felt, or maybe never noticed, before. All of a sudden, I had a small glimpse of myself, slightly older, giving a powerful speech in front of a large crowd. I felt the Spirit whisper that one day, I would have no stage fright and could become a public speaker.
Three years later, I was at my first speech and debate meet. I confidently gave a persuasive and powerful speech convincing people to vote for me.
God knows us. He knows our weaknesses and he knows our strengths. I know that the promise in Ether is true: If we simply believe, and act on that belief, God will turn our weakness into strength (see Ether 12:27).

My daughter is a musically talented young woman. For many years I felt that this talent would not be developed unless I stood over her at the piano and insistently supervised her practice like a slave driver. One day, sometime in her early teens, I realized that my attitude, probably once useful, was now visibly affecting our relationship. Torn between a fear that she would not fully develop a God-given talent and the reality of an increasingly strained relationship over that very issue, I did what I had seen my own mother do when faced with a serious challenge. I closeted myself in my secret place and poured out my soul in prayer, seeking the only wisdom that could help me keep that communication open—the kind of wisdom and help that comes from the tongues of angels. Upon arising from my knees, I knew what action I must take.
Because it was just three days before Christmas, I gave to Mary a personal gift and a small note. It read: “Dear Mary, I’m sorry for the conflict I have caused by acting like a sheriff at the piano. I must have looked foolish there—just you and me and my pistols. Forgive me. You are becoming a young woman in your own right. I have only worried that you would not feel as fully confident and fulfilled as a woman if you left your talent unfinished. I love you. Mom.”
Later that day she sought me out, and in a quiet corner of our home, she said: “Mother, I know you want what is best for me, and I have known that all my life. But if I’m ever going to play the piano well, I’m the one who has to do the practicing, not you!” Then she threw her arms around me and with tears in her eyes she said, “I’ve been wondering how to teach you that—and somehow you figured it out on your own.”
As Mary and I reminisced about this experience a few years later, she confided in me that my willingness to say “I’m sorry, I’ve made a mistake, please forgive me” gave to her a great sense of self-worth, because it said to her that she was worthy enough for a parental apology, that sometimes children can be right.

When I was 13, my mother became very sick. She was diagnosed with a serious cancer in its last stage and was given six months to live. My father didn’t want us children to know, so I didn’t find out how sick she was until she had only a month left to live.
I wasn’t old enough to understand what was happening, and I hesitated to visit her in the hospital. My bishop encouraged me to bring her the sacrament, but I didn’t want to. I thought that she would come home soon. But my bishop persisted because he knew she didn’t have much time left.
When I finally went, my bishop blessed the sacrament, and I passed it to my mother. She was so sick that she didn’t talk much. But she told me, “Do not let go of the iron rod” (see 1 Nephi 8:19–20, 24, 30).
My mother soon passed away, but I remembered her parting words to me. Following her advice has blessed my life.

In 2003, I married and moved to South Africa where I have lived for the past 15 years. I often visit extended family in Maputo once or twice a year. While there I like to visit different wards to worship on a Sunday. As a pioneer member in Maputo, Mozambique, I love seeing the growth of the church in my home country. I love visiting old friends – brothers and sisters in the gospel – and to meet new members. I get tremendous satisfaction from seeing that my friends are still actively engaged in this work of salvation – the gospel of Jesus Christ – standing still and immovable in faith.
I was recently in Maputo and attended Polana and Sommershield wards. I was able to catch half of the sacrament meeting from Polana and then attended other meetings in Sommershield. While sitting in the congregation I was very pleased to see one of my Primary children, Vinícius, now a married young adult. He was sitting on the stand, conducting the Sacrament Meeting. As our eyes met, we smiled at each other and as I gazed around the congregation I saw other familiar faces – one of whom was Vinicius’ brother. My eyes were filled with tears of joy to see my former Primary children, 18 years later still active in the church. After the intermediate hymn, Vinícius stood up to announce the rest of the sacrament program from the pulpit to the congregation. Vinicius served his mission in Brazil and married in the temple not long ago. He is currently studying at university and serving as the second counsellor in the bishopric of Polana ward. With tears rolling my face, my thoughts went back to those Primary years when Vinícius and his brother were part of the Primary children that I served. I could picture in my mind the things that he used do and say to me then.
I felt the Holy Ghost whispering to me “your service in Primary has made a difference to someone…look at the fruit”. I had the sweetest feeling contemplating that moment. I was reminded of the scripture found in Mosiah 2:17 that says “when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God”. My heart felt full and I was glad to be able to witness Heavenly Father’s plan for each of His children. I was grateful that I accepted the calling to serve in Primary and that I strived to learn how best to serve Heavenly Father’s children during my calling. I know of many more Primary children, like Vinícius, who are faithful followers of the Saviour. Many have served full-time missions and are currently receiving an education to prepare for their future careers and in future leadership callings in the church.

Illustrated by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
Mandy: You come to me with a sword and a spear and a shield.
Matt: But I’m going to knock your big ugly head off, Goliath!
Mandy: Oh no! That’s Mrs. Zeigler’s window!
Matt: Let’s get out of here!
Matt: No, that’s wrong. I’ve got to go tell her what I’ve done.
Mandy: We’ll both go. I was playing the game too.
Matt: Mrs. Zeigler, we were playing David and Goliath, and I broke your window.
Mandy: We both did.
Mrs. Zeigler: I know you did. And you were afraid of me. Your fear was as big as Goliath. But you stood up to that fear and told me the truth.
Mandy: We’ll pay for your window.
Mrs. Zeigler: Of course you will. I would expect no less from giant-slayers.

The noise was so loud it woke Christina Foster up—a roaring like a midnight train rumbling through the town. She cowered in her sleeping bag, afraid that the window near her would shatter from the violent vibration.
Christina, 16, of the Monck’s Corner Ward, Charleston South Carolina Stake, was living through the nightmare of Hurricane Hugo. Her family was camping out in the stake center, along with other ward members warned by civil authorities to evacuate their homes.
After a few minutes, Christina got up and joined her parents and sisters as they tried to see what was happening outside. It was the darkest, blackest night she could remember.
“All we could hear were things moving around, and the snap, snap, snap of trees falling,” said Christina. “I was more scared than I should have been. But everyone at the church was calm, so I felt safe.”

I have read some of the histories of the disaster which we commemorate this day. Of particular note is the account of the near spontaneous collection of flowers throughout Salt Lake City by young and old to be sent to Scofield to somehow alleviate the terrible suffering and grief. I was moved to tears as I read from the account.
“In Salt Lake words cannot describe the scenes that took place. Every one was anxious to do their part, and the school children, … hastened from house to house gathering flowers from all the gardens in the city until almost three carloads were furnished” (History of the Scofield Mine Disaster, 57).
The flowers were placed in the baggage compartment of a special train bound for Scofield. I quote now from the account.
The flowers “were spread out on the seats two and three feet high throughout the rest of the car. …
“Everything seemed to be there that might help to cheer those who have lived out in the hills, far away from the flowers and who are now experiencing the most dreadful calamity that has ever occurred in the western country. …
“The … car, with the lilacs and cut flowers, was switched into a sidetrack near the cemetery early in the morning. The car was next to the roadway over which the long train of wagons passed as they bore the bodies to their last resting place. The doors of the car were thrown open, and as each wagon came by, it halted while Captain Barrett and his aids, … buried the coffins under lilacs and handed each driver a bunch of cut flowers for the widows and children who accompanied the coffins. At the forward end of the car, the boys in charge were almost overwhelmed by requests for flowers. Work as fast as they could, the mournful little groups of women and children, in significant black, were still there awaiting their turn for the blossoms. If the donors of the flowers and the people who helped collect them could have seen the gratitude and appreciation of Scofield they would have been repaid an hundred fold for their work. …
“Just before noon came a plea from the Finns. Their spokesman came aboard the car and said they had sixty-one dead, none of whom had a friend in the country, aside from the people of their nationality. He asked as a favor that flowers be reserved for them until their train came down the canyon. There was an abundance for all, and the man’s face lighted with evident pleasure when he was assured that all the coffins would be decorated and the graves covered with flowers. The distribution alone took nearly all the time from nine o’clock in the morning until the heavy rain late in the afternoon stopped the melancholy procession” (57–61). To these flowers were added additional bouquets from towns along the route of the train.