Gospel Story Finder

On yet another occasion we visited a home where two little girls were sent to meet us at the door by their alcoholic parents. The little girls said through the screen door that their mother and father were asleep. The bishop kept talking to them, smiling and praising their goodness and their bravery, for what seemed to me 10 minutes or more. As I walked away at his side, he said quietly, “That was a good visit. Those little girls will never forget that we came.”

Chad heard the crack of Rocky’s bat as it connected with the ball. Even before he saw the ball shooting straight to right field where he was, he knew what was going to happen—he was going to duck. He always did.
“Catch it!” shouted Pete, the first baseman, but he didn’t sound very hopeful. The whole sixth grade knew how it was with Chad.
“Raise your left arm,” Chad whispered to himself. “Catch the ball.” But his traitorous body was already crumpling.
He ducked.
The ball zinged past him, and Rocky pounced with a big grin onto first base. And the guy who had been there strolled happily to second while the outfielder chased the ball.
“Pop it to Chad the Chicken!” Rocky yelled to the next batter. “It’s a cinch he’ll miss it.”
The school bell rang, ending the physical education period. Chad took off his mitt and bent down, pretending to retie a shoelace so he wouldn’t have to walk to the gym with the rest of the guys. It’s only a class game, he told himself. It doesn’t matter.
But it did matter. A name like “Chad the Chicken” hurt. Chad the Chicken, he tormented himself silently. Why am I afraid of a softball?
After school Chad walked alone toward home. How do people find the courage to do what they’re afraid of? he wondered. Where does a person look for courage anyway? Wouldn’t it be great if you could find it by eating a chewy candy bar? he thought, probably because he was in front of Mr. Slater’s candy store, where he just automatically seemed to drift these days. Candy didn’t give him courage, but it did make him forget his problems momentarily.
Chad was beginning to put on too much weight. But what does that matter? he asked himself. Maybe if I put on enough weight, I won’t be able to run and can sit on the bench during P.E. period. Wouldn’t it be better to be Chad the Chunk than Chad the Chicken? he reasoned.
There was a man standing in front of Mr. Slater’s store, and Chad could see his reflection in the store window. But behind the man’s reflection there seemed to be another reflection: a huge bird with white feathers and a bright red thing on his head—a chicken!
A fear suddenly gripped Chad. I’ve actually become a chicken, he thought frantically, a real, feathered, winged chicken! In panic he turned to go home. What would his parents say? Would they let a chicken come into their house?
“Chad!” Mr. Slater was calling him. “Come on inside.”
How can Mr. Slater recognize me if I’m a chicken? Chad worried. Do I look different? Then an awful thought struck him. Maybe I’ve been a chicken for a long time. He tried to remember the last time he had looked into a mirror. He usually combed his hair by feel, and he didn’t even glance at the mirror when he brushed his teeth.
“Chad!” Mr. Slater called again, and the boy turned and walked into the store.
“Hi, Chad,” Mr. Slater greeted. “How’s it going today?”
Chad didn’t say anything. He considered asking Mr. Slater how long he, Chad, had been a chicken. He trusted Mr. Slater to tell him the truth. He was always nice to everyone.
He cleared his throat and watched as Mr. Slater scooped into one of his candy bins and held something out to him.
Candy corn!
Chickens eat corn. Is Mr. Slater making fun of me? Chad wondered.
He turned and ran out of the store. It was probably a big joke with everyone, his being a chicken. Well, he’d show them. Mr. Slater and Rocky and all the others. Somewhere he would find courage and prove he wasn’t a chicken.
But where? Can I catch a falling airplane like Superman? Can I fight a raging tiger? Where can I find some courage?
Chad sighed. It was hopeless. He might as well face the fact that he would be a chicken all his life. He might as well go back and peck at Mr. Slater’s candy corn.
He turned around and saw that Rocky and the other guys were heading toward the candy store. He was about to hide somewhere when he saw a commotion inside. It looked as though Mr. Slater were fighting with another man. Chad saw the man hit Mr. Slater on the side of his head, then run away from the store. Mr. Slater staggered after him, shouting, “Help, police! That man robbed my store!”
The man was the same one Chad had seen standing in front of the store earlier. Now he was heading down the street, right in Chad’s direction. In one hand he carried a paper bag, probably full of Mr. Slater’s money.
Chad looked around frantically for help. But there was no one in sight except Rocky and the other guys, and they all jumped into a doorway to hide.
The man was coming straight toward Chad. I’ve got to do something. What can I do? he agonized.
Chad’s knees felt weak as he made his decision. He shifted his feet, planting them firmly on the sidewalk, and watched the big man hurtling toward him.
Chad caught his breath. “I’d better duck,” he murmured. No! he argued with himself. He has Mr. Slater’s money. “Stop!” he shouted, and somehow his voice sounded to him like a loud squawk. But the man kept coming. His bloodshot eyes glared at Chad hatefully. Chad felt as though he would faint.
Suddenly the man dodged to go around Chad. Almost without thinking, Chad threw himself at the man’s big feet. He felt the concrete sidewalk scrape the skin off his arm as the man’s toes struck him in the chest. He rolled away, getting clear of the wildly kicking legs. There was a dull thud as the man hit the ground, then the sound of running feet as Mr. Slater and Rocky and the other guys rushed over. They threw themselves onto the man, pinning him to the ground.
“I’ve called the police,” called another storekeeper. “They’ll be here in a minute.”
Other people came out of stores to help.
“Chad,” Mr. Slater puffed from his place on top of the man, “that was the most courageous thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how to thank you.”
The way Chad figured it, the only thanks he needed was the way Rocky and the other guys looked at him when he got to his feet. He knew they wouldn’t see him as a chicken any more. Maybe they never had. Maybe he was the only one who had seen that enormous bird in his mind. It was all right. He knew now that everyone was afraid of something, sometime. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t courage down deep inside, ready to go into action when it counted.
“What I could really use is a Band-Aid,” he said modestly, and joined in with Rocky and the other guys as they rocked with laughter.

When I was going to be baptized and confirmed a member of the Church, I felt very troubled about whether I was choosing the right path. Our branch missionaries in Gyumri, Armenia, realized I had some doubts about the Book of Mormon and joining the Church, so they invited me to go with them while they taught some missionary lessons.
When we got to the first home, Elder Perrin asked Anichka if she had read the assigned chapters. “No,” she said, “I forgot.” So we read 2 Nephi 29–33 together. While reading chapter 29, we studied the prophecies about the Book of Mormon and the Gentiles rejecting it in the latter days by saying, “A Bible! A Bible! We have got a Bible, and there cannot be any more Bible” (v. 3). That chapter left an impression on me throughout the lesson.
Next we went to another home. When we were reading from the Book of Mormon there, the father of the woman we were teaching asked, “What is that book?”
I explained that it was the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ. He became angry and said, “We already have the Bible, and there can’t be another Bible.”
I remembered the chapter we had read just 10 minutes earlier with Anichka.
Elder Perrin spoke up: “You have a Bible, and it is from God’s ancient covenant people.” He continued, “God created all people, and He reveals His words to His children, which means all people on this earth. Even though you have a Bible, don’t you suppose that God would give His word to others?” He continued this way, explaining the origin of the Book of Mormon.
I was amazed at what had just happened. It seemed there could be no greater testimony for resolving my concerns about the Book of Mormon than seeing its prophecies fulfilled.
Now with sincerity of heart I can say that the Book of Mormon is the truest book. I know that God loves us all and He won’t forget us. Again and again I have realized how exceptional a possession the Book of Mormon is.

He delighted in recounting such incidents as this:
“I had a man pointed out to me who married an entire family. He had originally intended to marry Jane, but Jane did not want to leave her widowed mother. The other three sisters were not in the matrimonial market for the same reason; so this gallant man married the whole crowd, including the girl’s grandmother, who had lost all her teeth, and had to be fed with a spoon. The family were in indigent circumstances, and they could not but congratulate themselves on securing a wealthy husband. It seemed to affect the grandmother deeply, for the first words she said on reaching her new home, were: ‘Now, thank God! I shall have my gruel reg’lar!’”

I’d like to share the story of one of these many family caregivers, my friend whom I will call Debbie.
When Debbie was 62, she and her husband invited her 86-year-old mother to live with them. Debbie’s mother had mid-stage Alzheimer’s disease and was unable to care for herself. Debbie lamented that her once sweet, temple-serving, ministering, Relief Society president mother was ravaged by Alzheimer’s disease. Now Debbie was required to care for her mother, the same person who had provided care for her and so many others throughout her life.
Debbie had to assist her mother with all the activities of daily living like dressing, bathing, and eating. Her mother continually repeated questions about what was happening. She frequently became disoriented and often fought against the care she was receiving because she could not remember what was happening or why it was happening. She became agitated and often lost her temper.
Her mother suffered from sundowning, which meant she was confused about when to sleep and when to be awake. Debbie awoke in the middle of the night to find her mother wandering through the house extremely anxious and disoriented. Since her mother no longer recognized Debbie’s husband, Debbie was the only one who could calm her mother down.
Twice Debbie’s mother was able to leave the house and start walking down the street in the middle of the night. The first time it happened, Debbie fortunately heard the front door close and was able to retrieve her mother before she had wandered too far. However, the second time, her mother left the house undetected, and Debbie received a phone call at 3:30 a.m. from the local police letting her know that her mother had been found walking down the road in only her nightgown.
The continual stress and effort that Debbie gave to care for her mother became intense. She did not know where to turn for help. Her two siblings didn’t accept that their mother had Alzheimer’s disease, nor that the symptoms were as bad as Debbie described. Their denial was reflected in the lack of assistance they offered. Since both of them lived hundreds of miles away, they were unable to regularly visit or offer help anyway.
Debbie felt awkward turning to friends, ward members, and other neighbors because she wasn’t sure how to explain her mother’s condition, and her mother didn’t respond well to new people. Debbie rejected the idea of getting help from professional services because she felt responsible to serve and care for her mother. Moving her mother to an assisted-living community was out of the question as well since her mother had once said she didn’t want to go to any place like that.
Week after week and month after month, Debbie continued giving more and more care to her mother. She focused less and less attention on her own health. One afternoon about 20 months after Debbie’s mother moved into Debbie’s home, Debbie’s husband returned from the store to find his mother-in-law agitated and pacing around the kitchen. He found Debbie collapsed on the living room floor. She was breathing but unconscious. She was taken to the hospital and was admitted due to a mild heart attack brought on by exhaustion.
Once my friend Debbie was released from the hospital, her husband and children sought out the Alzheimer’s Association. The local chapter provided support to the family. Debbie found the assistance she needed and realized the importance and power of allowing others to assist in caring for her mother.

As I sat in sacrament meeting pondering the prayer on the bread, the words kept repeating themselves in my mind: “that they may always have his Spirit to be with them” (Moroni 4:3; D&C 20:77).
“Always,” it said—not just at certain times. Why, then, several months earlier, had my husband and I not been prompted regarding how to protect our 11-year-old son before he was killed in a bicycle-automobile accident? Why would Heavenly Father not “always” watch over us and warn us?
I had been taught in Primary and believed that the Holy Ghost would protect us. He would use the still, small voice to watch over, guide, and warn us of danger. This thought had been in my mind since Ben had passed away. I missed him very much, and my heart ached for understanding and peace.
Where was my warning voice? Where was the Holy Ghost? I felt that we were doing our best to be righteous. We paid our tithing, attended our meetings, and served whenever we were asked. We were far from perfect, but we held family home evening and scripture study. We were trying.
About this time I was sitting in a Relief Society class when the teacher told a story of a close relative.
This story hit me hard, but as I sat in my chair in tears preparing to stand and leave the room, a great comfort washed over me. I felt peace that the Holy Ghost had indeed been with me. In my case He had not been there as a warning voice but as a comforter.
From the time of Ben’s accident, I had felt strength beyond my own and had been comforted by my Heavenly Father’s love. I lacked understanding at times of why certain things happen, but I had never doubted His love.
I have faith that God understands all things and will never leave me comfortless. The Holy Ghost plays many roles in our lives. He can protect us, but He also guides us, comforts us, teaches us, and provides understanding and other blessings.
I learned that Heavenly Father does keep His promises. He had “always” been with me.

Harold Connolly had broken his left arm several times. It was only two-thirds the size of his right. To exercise and build up the smaller arm, he began throwing the hammer back to Boston College’s regular throwers. Soon he was tossing it back farther than they were throwing it, so he entered the event. He later broke the world record and won a gold medal. He made himself strongest where he was weakest.

“How was school today?” Dad asked as he poured Eddy a glass of milk.
Eddy swallowed a bite of green beans and looked down at his plate. “It was OK.”
“Just OK?” Mom asked.
Eddy nodded. “Some kids laughed at me during reading time,” he said. “I don’t like reading in front of people.”
Some words were hard for Eddy to pronounce, so reading out loud always made him nervous, especially when other kids made fun of him.
“I’m sorry,” Dad said.
“Thanks, Dad. Can you pass the rice, please?”
Eddy knew Mom and Dad probably wanted to hear more about reading time, but he didn’t feel like talking about it. He was glad his big brother, Eric, had lots to say about his first day of soccer practice.
After dinner, Eddy stood up to go to his room.
“Wait,” Eric said. “We almost forgot to read scriptures!”
Eddy’s family had been trying hard to read the Book of Mormon. Reading right after dinner seemed to be the best time because everyone was together. But it was still hard remembering to read every day.
“We almost forgot again!” Mom said. “What can we do to help us remember?”
“Maybe we should pray about it,” Eddy said. “Heavenly Father can help us.”
“That’s a great idea!” Dad said. “Will you say the prayer?”
Eddy nodded and bowed his head. “Heavenly Father, please help us know how we can remember to read the scriptures.”
After the prayer, Eddy and his family talked about some ideas.
“What if we kept the Book of Mormon on the table where we could see it?” Eric asked.
“I like that idea,” Mom said.
“We could tape a reminder on it too,” Eddy said.
Dad smiled. “I’ll go get some tape.”
Eddy cut a strip of white tape and put it on the front of the Book of Mormon. Then he took a marker and wrote “Read!” across the tape.
“There,” he said. “Now we won’t forget.”
Every night, Eddy and his family saw the Book of Mormon on the table. And every night, they remembered to read. It was working!
Eddy liked reading the Book of Mormon. He especially liked the story of Nephi building a ship. Nephi’s brothers made fun of him, but that didn’t stop him. Nephi trusted God, and God helped him do hard things.
“Nephi’s my hero,” Eddy said after reading one night.
A few days later, it was reading time again at school. When it was Eddy’s turn, he heard some kids already starting to laugh. Instead of worrying about what they would say, Eddy took a deep breath and thought about Nephi. A peaceful feeling came into his heart as he said the first word.
When Eddy finished reading, he felt good. He still messed up a few times, but Eddy didn’t care. He knew he had done his best.
“How was reading time?” Mom asked at dinner.
“It was good,” Eddy said. “A few kids still laughed, but it didn’t bug me. I just thought about what we’re reading in the Book of Mormon, and it helped me a lot.”
Dad and Mom smiled.
“We’re so proud of you!” Dad said.
“Thanks!” Eddy said. After dinner, he reached across the table for the Book of Mormon. He couldn’t wait to read what happened next.

Stewardship—A Sacred Trust
When I was a small boy, I would visit my grandparents at their ranch during the summer. There was no electrical power, running water, or plumbing in the house. There was, however, a spring of water next to their small ranch house. The spring created a little pond of clear, pure water, where several times a day I would help my grandmother carry water to the house for drinking, cooking, bathing, and washing clothes. My grandparents loved this life-giving spring and took special precautions to protect it.
Many years later my grandfather was in his early 90s and did not live on the property; he was unable to maintain or oversee it. I drove him to see the ranch which he loved. His high expectations at seeing the ranch turned to disappointment when he realized the fences that protected the spring had fallen into disrepair and cows had damaged the spring and the precious, pure springwater had been significantly polluted. … He felt somehow he had not protected that life-sustaining spring which had meant so much to him.
Just as the pure spring was polluted when not protected, we live in a time when virtue and chastity are not safeguarded. The eternal significance of personal morality is not respected. A loving Father in Heaven has provided us with the means to bring His spirit children into this world to fulfill the full measure of their creation. He has instructed us that the wellsprings of life are to be kept pure, just as the beautiful spring on the ranch required protection in order to sustain life. This is one of the reasons why virtue and chastity are so important in our Father in Heaven’s plan.
Because of my grandfather’s reaction to the polluted spring, improvements and protections were undertaken which returned the spring to its original beauty and purity. …
… We are aware that there are those who have already engaged in conduct inconsistent with this sacred standard of morality. Please understand that through the Savior’s Atonement, all can repent and return, like the spring of water, to a clean and pure state.

Lately our family had been praying to strengthen the family bond. The answer to our prayer really came in a shocking way. Can you imagine this? Three teenagers and a nine-year-old down with the chicken pox the last week of summer vacation. We had to live together 24 hours a day in the same house for a week and a half straight. That was a trial! We all learned to get along. Each day we compared our skin to see whose was worse. My oldest brother won. We made this awful experience fun. We talked about walking down the beach looking like this in our swimsuits and other crazy ideas that made the situation seem funny. Unfortunately it did not ease the itch. We decided to be more specific when we prayed. We are all involved with each others’ lives and feelings. We are now closer than ever.

I recall another missionary who said, “Two weeks before I was to go see my bishop and get the missionary forms and papers processed, I had some doubts. I had some questions about the future and even about the Church. I walked into the living room and interrupted my father, who was watching television, and said, ‘Dad, I’m not so sure about this Joseph Smith business. I’m not so sure I know the Church is true. I’m not so sure I want to go out and represent it. I have a lot of questions, and I have a lot of misgivings.’
“When I said that, my father walked over and turned off the television, took the cigarette he had in his hand and smashed it in the ashtray, took the can of beer he had in his other hand and put it down on the table, and said, ‘Son, I want you to know that I don’t do very much about it, but I know that the Church of Jesus Christ is true and that Joseph Smith is a prophet. I want you to hear me say it because I know that better than most anything else in this world.’”
This young man then said, “I want my father to know that I appreciate him. He has some habits that he’s not proud of. He has some habits that I’m not proud of. But he is my father, and he has a testimony. I’m pleased I even told him on that occasion ‘Thank you for being my dad.’”

A missionary district leader was wondering why Elder Parker, who was about to conclude his mission, was successful in spite of his inability to memorize the discussions. To understand, he teamed with Elder Parker to give a discussion. Elder Parker’s presentation was so disorganized that by the end of the formal lesson, the district leader was confused and surmised that the family being taught felt the same way.
It was then that “Elder Parker leaned forward and put his hand on the arm of the family’s father. He then looked him straight in the eyes, told him how much he loved him and his family, and bore one of the most humble and powerful testimonies that the district leader had ever heard. By the time he finished, every member of the family, including the father, and both elders had tears running down their cheeks. Next Elder Parker taught the father how to pray, and they all knelt down while the father prayed that they might receive testimonies of their own and thanked Heavenly Father for the great love that he felt. Two weeks later the whole family was baptized.”
Later, Elder Parker apologized to his district leader for not knowing the discussions. He said he struggled with memorization, even though he spent hours each day working on it. He said he knelt in prayer before teaching each family and asked Heavenly Father to bless him when he bore his testimony so that people would feel his love and the Spirit and know they were being taught the truth (see Allan K. Burgess and Max H. Molgard, “That Is the Worst Lesson I’ve Ever Heard!” in Sunshine for the Latter-day Saint Soul [1998], 181–83).

Emily poured the last of the lemonade into her cup and went outside. It was a hot day! Emily was glad she had some cold lemonade. Then she saw Grandpa pushing the lawn mower. He looked hot and tired. Emily really wanted the whole cup of lemonade. But she knew Grandpa would be thirsty. Emily went back inside. She got another cup and poured in half of her lemonade. Then she took it outside to Grandpa. He stopped the lawn mower. They drank their lemonade. Grandpa smiled and said, “Thank you for sharing your lemonade!”

One of the most discouraging parts of my mission was four months I spent in Tulancingo, Mexico. The work was difficult. Day after day my companion and I spent long hours tracting. The people were generally hostile, and no one seemed interested in listening to us.
Finally, we found two men who seemed very interested in our message. Our efforts seemed at last to be paying off, and I knew these men would be great assets to Tulancingo’s struggling branch. But when these men both decided not to accept baptism, I was devastated and began to wonder if I was accomplishing anything of value by serving a mission.
About this time a 12-year-old girl came to Tulancingo to visit a family in the branch. She became interested in the Church and asked us to teach her the discussions. She seemed to accept everything we said. A short time later her father came for a visit and gave permission for her to be baptized.
But this baptism did little to lessen the disappointment I felt regarding the men who had failed to join the Church. I had hoped they would help to build up the Church in this area. Because the girl was so young and the only member in her family, I didn’t think there was much chance that she would remain active. She left Tulancingo a few days after her baptism, and I lost contact with her. In fact, I completely forgot about her.
It has been more than 30 years since my mission, and not long ago I unexpectedly received the following letter:
Dear Brother Cooper,
My name is J. Jovita Pérez Acosta. I was baptized December 1, 1965, in Tulancingo. I always thought I would very much like to thank you for having brought the gospel into my life.
About a year ago I moved into a new ward and [met a man who] knew you and knew your address. So I have now taken advantage of the situation to send greetings and tell you a little about my life in the gospel.
When you taught me the gospel, I was 12 years old and was spending the summer in Tulancingo. I remember clearly the day that I heard the history of Joseph Smith. I felt that it was true, and that same night I knelt for the first time in my life and prayed as you had taught me. On that occasion I learned how to talk with my Heavenly Father.
My mother was angry with my father because of my baptism, and they sent me to live at a Catholic boarding school. There was no member of the Church in all the area. I didn’t even have a Book of Mormon. But I continued to pray, and the seed that you planted in my heart began to germinate.
One day, analyzing my religious situation, I felt that Heavenly Father was not pleased with me. I was confused. I told Him that I wanted to belong only to His church. I asked that He would help me be a good daughter to Him. A little while after this, I felt impelled to write to the [LDS] Church school in Mexico City to ask that I might be enrolled there. I was accepted. It was then that my testimony began to form.
Seven years later my three younger sisters joined the Church, and they also went to live at the Church school. My mother had us attend her church during the summers; but even so, we read the scriptures, and we began to have family home evenings. Ten years after my baptism, my mother and my youngest brother were baptized. A year later my father was baptized. We were the first member family in our town and in all the towns roundabout. The nearest church was four hours away. My parents would travel every two weeks to go to the church services there.
During this period I became very ill and went to live for some months with my parents. We had family home evening every week. My mother would invite almost everyone around, and we would have about 30 attend.
One day I called the mission home in Mexico City to ask that missionaries be sent, and this was how the first branch was born in all that region. My father was the branch president, and my mother was the Relief Society president. Now there are many branches in the other towns, and they have been formed into two districts.
My youngest sister converted the man who is now her husband, and they both served missions. He is a bishop in Ciudad Juarez, and they have five children. Two of my nephews and a niece have also served missions. My oldest son returned last year from his mission, and my daughter is presently serving in Washington, D.C. My youngest son leaves next month to serve a mission in Mexico.
In all, my parents have 26 grandchildren who are members of the Church. As you can see, one of the little seeds you planted many years ago has been transformed into a tree, and it is giving fruit and producing seeds for new trees. Isn’t it glorious? When my oldest son left for his mission, I told him that all he had to do was plant with love in the vineyard of the Lord. Perhaps he would never see the tree grow and produce fruit, but the Lord would.
The gospel has given me much happiness, and without it, I don’t know what my life would be. I know that Jesus Christ is my redeemer and that His work will move forward, blessing the families of the earth.
Your sister in the faith,Jovita Pérez
As I read this letter, I was filled with joy and amazement. I now realize that perhaps the most important thing I accomplished on my mission was something that had seemed almost insignificant and that had occurred at a time of great discouragement.
What this sister said about planting with love in the Lord’s vineyard is very true. Many missionaries will never be aware of all of the results of their labors. But if we spend our lives doing all the good we can, without wondering and worrying about the consequences, we will find the true joy of the gospel.

Not long ago I was in South Africa visiting a home with Thabiso, the first assistant in the priests quorum in the Kagiso Ward. Thabiso and his bishop, who presides and holds the keys for the quorum, had been praying for quorum members who were less active, seeking inspiration about whom to visit and how to help them. They felt prompted to visit the home of Tebello, and they invited me to go with them.
Once we made it past the ferocious guard dog, we found ourselves in the living room with Tebello, a calm-spirited young man who had stopped attending church because he had become busy doing other things on Sundays. He was nervous but happy to receive us and even invited his family to join him. The bishop expressed his love for the family and his desire to help them become an eternal family by being sealed in the temple. Their hearts were moved, and we could all feel the strong presence of the Holy Ghost guiding every word and every sentiment.
But it was the words of Thabiso that made the difference in the visit. It seemed to me that this young priest was speaking in the language of angels—loving words that we all could fully understand but that especially touched his friend. “I enjoyed so much talking to you all the time at church,” he said. “You always have kind words for me. And you know, our soccer team has basically disappeared now that we don’t have you. You are so good at it.”
“I am sorry,” Tebello answered. “I will come back with you guys.”
“That will be awesome,” said Thabiso. “And do you remember how we used to prepare to serve as missionaries? Can we start doing that again?”
“Yes,” repeated Tebello, “I want to come back.”
Perhaps the greatest joy I experience as a counselor in the Young Men general presidency is seeing the Aaronic Priesthood holders around the world exercising the power of the Aaronic Priesthood. But sometimes I also witness, with a sad heart, how many young men do not understand how much good they can do with the power they hold.
The priesthood is the power and authority of God Himself to act in the service of His children. Oh, if only every young man, every Aaronic Priesthood holder, could fully comprehend that his priesthood possesses the keys of the ministering of angels. If only they could understand that they have the sacred duty to help their friends find the pathway that leads to the Savior. If only they knew that Heavenly Father will give them the power to explain the truths of the restored gospel with such clarity and sincerity that others will feel the undeniable truthfulness of the words of Christ.
Dear young men of the Church, let me ask you a question that I hope you will carry in your heart for the rest of your life. What greater power can you acquire on earth than the priesthood of God? What power could possibly be greater than the capacity to assist our Heavenly Father in changing the lives of your fellowmen, to help them along the pathway of eternal happiness by being cleansed of sin and wrongdoing?
Like any other power, the priesthood needs to be exercised to accomplish any good. You are called to “arise and shine forth” (D&C 115:5), not to hide your light in darkness. Only those who are brave will be counted among the chosen. As you exercise the power of your sacred priesthood, your courage and confidence will increase. Young men, you know that you are at your best when you are in the service of God. You know that you are happiest when you are anxiously engaged in a good work. Magnify the power of your priesthood by being clean and being worthy.
I add my voice to the call Elder Jeffrey R. Holland made to you six months ago from this pulpit. “I am looking,” he said, “for men young and old who care enough about this battle between good and evil to sign on and speak up. We are at war.” He continued, “I ask for a stronger and more devoted voice, a voice not only against evil … , but a voice for good, a voice for the gospel, a voice for God” (“We Are All Enlisted,” Liahona and Ensign, Nov. 2011, 44, 47).
Yes, Aaronic Priesthood holders, we are at war. And in this war, the best way to defend against evil is to actively promote righteousness. You cannot listen to foul words and pretend you don’t hear. You cannot watch, alone or with others, images you know are filthy and pretend you don’t see. You cannot touch any unclean thing and pretend it’s no big deal. You cannot be passive when Satan seeks to destroy that which is wholesome and pure. Instead, stand up boldly for what you know is true! When you hear or see anything that violates the Lord’s standards, remember who you are—a soldier in the army of God Himself, empowered with His holy priesthood. There is no better weapon against the enemy, the father of lies, than the truth that will come out of your mouth as you exercise the power of the priesthood. Most of your peers will respect you for your courage and your integrity. Some will not. But that doesn’t matter. You will gain the respect and trust of Heavenly Father because you used His power to accomplish His purposes.
I call on every Aaronic Priesthood quorum presidency to once again raise the title of liberty and organize and lead your battalions. Utilize your priesthood power by inviting those around you to come unto Christ through repentance and baptism. You have the mandate and power of Heavenly Father to do it.
Two years ago, while visiting Santiago, Chile, I was very much impressed by Daniel Olate, a young man who often accompanied the missionaries. I asked him to write to me, and with his permission I will read to you part of his recent e-mail: “I just turned 16, and Sunday I was ordained to the office of a priest. That same day I baptized a friend; her name is Carolina. I taught her the gospel, and she regularly attended church and even received her Personal Progress award, but her parents would not allow her to be baptized until they got to know and trust me. She wanted me to baptize her, so we had to wait for a month until Sunday, when I turned 16. I feel so good to have helped such a good person to be baptized, and I feel happy that I was the one who baptized her.”
Daniel is just one of many young men around the world who are living up to the power God has entrusted to them. Another is Luis Fernando, from Honduras, who noticed that his friend was walking a dangerous path and shared his testimony with him, literally saving his life (see “A Change of Heart,” lds.org/youth/video). Olavo, from Brazil, is another example. A true standing minister in his home (see D&C 84:111), Olavo inspired his mother to return to full activity in the Church (see “Reunited by Faith,” lds.org/youth/video). You can find some of these stories and many others like them on the Church’s youth website, youth.lds.org. By the way, the Internet, social media, and other technologies are tools the Lord has placed in your hands to help you exercise your priesthood duties and extend the influence of truth and virtue.
Dear young men, when you exercise the Aaronic Priesthood in the way I have described, you are preparing yourselves for responsibilities in your future. But you are doing much more than that. Like John the Baptist, that exemplary Aaronic Priesthood holder, you are also preparing the way of the Lord and making His paths straight. When you boldly declare the gospel of repentance and baptism, as John did, you are preparing the people for the coming of the Lord (see Matthew 3:3; D&C 65:1–3; 84:26–28). You are often told about your great potential. Well, now is the time to put that potential into action, to make use of the abilities God has given you to bless others, bring them out from obscurity and into light, and prepare the way of the Lord.
The Church has given you the Duty to God booklet as a resource to help you learn and fulfill your duties. Study it often. Get on your knees, away from technology, and seek the Lord’s guidance. And then arise and use the power of God. I promise that you will receive answers from Heavenly Father on how to conduct your own life and how to help others.
I quote the words of President Thomas S. Monson: “Never underestimate the far-reaching influence of your testimony. … You have the capacity to notice the unnoticed. When you have eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts to feel, you can reach out and rescue others” (“Be Thou an Example,” Liahona and Ensign, May 2005, 115).
I testify to you that the power of the priesthood is real. I gained my witness exercising the priesthood myself. I have seen miracle after miracle performed by those who have the power of the Aaronic Priesthood. I have witnessed the power of the ministering of angels as faithful Aaronic Priesthood holders speak Spirit-filled words of hope, opening the heart of someone in need of light and love. In the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord, our leader, and our Savior, amen.

I told you that Bryanna and I love to hike. Let me tell you a story about one memorable hike and the misery that followed. It was a lovely, sunny June day, and we thought we might find patches of snow in the mountains where we were hiking. But we didn’t bring sunscreen, and there was a snowfield that stretched for miles that we had to cross on our way up the mountain and again on our way down. We found out the hard way how much the reflected June sun would burn our exposed faces and necks from below. We were in agony for days afterward as our skin blistered and peeled. It’s an experience I never want to have again. The sunscreen, which we have never forgotten since, is like our covenants with Jesus Christ. Covenants protect us when we encounter spiritual danger, even unexpected danger.

Each April the PGA Tour hosts a tournament in Hilton Head, South Carolina—where I served as a missionary. During my time there, we invited Mike Reid, a past BYU player and a PGA Tour player, to speak at a fireside for several individuals we were teaching. He shared his conversion story, spoke about his experiences on the PGA Tour, and answered questions about professional golf. At the conclusion of the evening, one of the gentlemen whom we had been teaching, and who had been investigating the Church for quite some time, turned to me and said, “If these are the kind of people who are members of the Church, then I want to be a part of it.” His sincere response was a powerful reminder of the influence the Spirit can have on others.

Hey, wanna buy a cool pen? It has four different colors.
Where’d you get it? How much do you want for it?
My dad gave it to me. You can have it for a dollar.
Dad did say I could spend part of my birthday money any way I wanted.
Do you know where he got that pen? He saw some kid drop it and grabbed it before the kid turned around. He bragged about it to me.
Later, at afternoon recess …
I don’t want anything that was stolen. Just give me my money back.
Too bad. I already spent the money on nachos for lunch.
What am I going to do with this?
… and it has four colors, and it was a birthday present …
Are you looking for this?
Maybe I lost a dollar, but I get to keep my self-respect.

In 1952, super-athlete Emil Zatopek of Czechoslovakia won both the 10,000 and 5,000-meter races. To celebrate his victory, he announced he would enter the marathon, even though he had never run the 41.8 kilometer event before.
“Do you really think you can win?” a newsman asked.
“If I didn’t think I could win, I wouldn’t have entered,” Zatopek replied.
At the 24.1 kilometer mark, Zatopek was side-by-side with Him Peters of Great Britain, the pre-race favorite.
“Don’t you think we should be going a bit faster?” Zatopek asked, then ran ahead. He was grinning when he won.

Mara bounced happily on the tall kitchen stool as she watched Grandma get out the ingredients for her wonderful tarts. Grandma hummed as she worked, and by the time she rolled out the dough, Mara was humming along with her. “These tarts will be good for your sister’s wedding reception tomorrow,” Grandma said.
“Why can’t I go inside the temple for Alyse’s wedding, Grandma?”
Grandma stopped rolling for a minute. “Well, because you’re not old enough to understand the special covenants we make there.”
“What’s a covenant?”
“A covenant is a promise you make with another person, Mara. In the temple we make special promises with Heavenly Father, and He promises us great blessings when we do our part. All this is part of what we call the endowment.”
Grandmother began rolling out the dough again. When the dough was thin enough, she cut out small circles and carefully fit them into the muffin cups.
Mara watched her grandmother’s wrinkled hands creating the beautiful little tarts. “Grandma, what’s it like inside the temple?”
“There are beautiful flowers and pictures to see. It is beautiful and peaceful, Mara. Everyone is dressed in white, and it feels as though you are surrounded by angels. We learn about Heavenly Father and Jesus there, for the temple is God’s house.”
“I know,” Mara said. “In Primary we sing a song about it called ‘I Love to See the Temple.’ It makes me feel quiet and reverent inside. Is that what the temple feels like?”
“Yes, dear,” Grandma replied. “When you sing that song from the Children’s Songbook, the Holy Ghost helps you have those quiet, reverent feelings. And when you visit the temple, those peaceful, reverent feelings are even stronger. As we worship God in the temple, we can feel His love and peace.”
Grandma spooned fruit filling into the little dough cups, then wove strips of pastry on top of each one. Her white hair bobbed as she moved back and forth. She looked up and smiled at Mara.
“I have another question,” Mara said, smiling back. “Why does everyone wear white in the temple?”
“Wearing white clothes helps us to remember to have thoughts that are pure and clean. Then we can better understand the instruction and guidance we receive there.”
Mara twirled around on her stool. “Dad said that when you get married in the temple, you are married for eternity, not just until you die. Is that why Alyse and Paul want to get married in the temple?”
“That’s one reason. And when they have children, each one will automatically be sealed to them in a ‘forever family.’ Some people get married, then have to work to become worthy of temple blessings, and many people have died without even knowing about them. Once living people are worthy, they can receive the temple ordinances for themselves and for the dead. That way, if they are worthy, everybody who lives or who has lived on earth can be joined together as families and as part of God’s eternal family.”
“Wow! I sure want to be married in the temple when I grow up, Grandma. Will you make your tarts for my reception too?”
Grandma winked at her. “I’m looking forward to it!”