Gospel Story Finder

“Mom!” I called, dumping the mail onto the kitchen counter. “The new issue of the Friend is here.”
“Good,” Mom answered from the bedroom where she was dusting. “Maybe you’ll find something to help you with your Primary talk. What’s the subject?”
“Every member a missionary.” I plopped down on the couch to leaf through the magazine. Right away I found an article about Jesus being the key that opens the door to eternal life. All we have to do is open the door and step from darkness into light. It sounded great.
The doorbell chimed. I dropped the magazine and ran to the front door. “There’s nobody here, Mom!” I shouted.
“It’s probably the bug lady. She parks way down the street. Open the garage door for her.”
The woman who sprays our yard calls herself Lady Bug, but we just call her the bug lady. She is an exterminator who comes to our neighborhood once a month to spray people’s yards with insecticide, which helps get rid of bugs. She always rings the doorbell to let us know she’s here. Then we open the garage if we want her to spray in there.
I went down the hall, opened the door leading to the garage, and pushed the control switch for the door. The heavy garage door groaned up. I went back to the living room, flopped down on the couch again, and found my place in the magazine.
Suddenly I remembered that someone had stolen Dad’s toolbox when I left the garage door open a couple of months ago. He was not happy about it. What if it wasn’t the bug lady who rang the bell? I peered out the window and could not see her at all. I couldn’t see her truck, either.
I decided I’d better close the garage door. I sure didn’t want to be responsible if Dad’s new toolbox disappeared. I trotted back down the hall to the door that opened into the garage. My mind on my talk, I cracked the door open just enough to snake my arm in and push the control switch again.
As the big garage door grumbled back down, I went to the kitchen and got a glass of juice from the fridge. I carried it to the couch and settled down with the Friend once more.
I slurped down a big swallow of juice and found my place. Yes! This was just what my talk needed. Trusting Jesus to bring us from darkness into light went right along with missionary work.
About a half hour later, my reading was suddenly interrupted. Kerblam! I jumped, and juice sloshed down my shirt. What was that? An explosion? Bam! Bang! Bam! I knocked over a chair as I leaped for the front door.
“What’s going on?” Mom shouted, rushing up behind me, her dust cloth waving. “What’s the pounding?”
“I don’t know. It sounds like a wrecking ball smashing into the house.”
One step ahead of Mom, I darted to the back door and flung it open. Nobody! Nothing!
The racket started again. Mom dropped the dust cloth. “It sounds like it’s coming from the garage.”
“It couldn’t be. I closed the garage door.” I sped down the hall anyway and flung open the door to the garage.
I was staring into wild blue eyes. The bug lady! She held a big spray canister over her head, ready to smash the garage door again. “Thank goodness!” she gasped, slumping backward. “The door to the inside of your house was locked. I tried calling for help, but no one heard me. I thought I’d be stuck in this dark garage all day.”
I felt bad about scaring her. “I’m sorry,” I said, “but you weren’t really stuck. See?” I pushed the control switch, and the garage door rumbled up. Light flooded the dark garage, showing dents all over the door where the bug lady had banged it.
Her voice was shaky. “A switch is no help if you don’t know it’s there.” She spun around, rushed out of the garage, and made a beeline for her truck parked way down the street. She got in, gunned the engine, and roared off.
Mom shook her head. “Poor woman. It must have been scary being locked in a dark garage.”
“I think I’ll put her in my Primary talk,” I said.
Mom whirled around and looked at me as if I was crazy. “You’ll what?”
“The bug lady couldn’t use the control switch because she didn’t know it was there,” I explained. “The Friend article says that Jesus is the key that opens the door to eternal life. But you can’t use a key that you don’t know about, so we need to be missionaries and teach people about Jesus Christ.”
Mom smiled. “You told the bug lady about the switch,” she said. “If the poor woman ever comes back, we need to tell her about the key.”

About six years ago, while in a weekly ward meeting, we received news that one of the sisters had been hit by a car. Though she was taken to the hospital immediately, she died a short while later.
The bishop asked one of his counselors and me to visit her immediate family to offer comfort and our help in arranging for the funeral. We went to the only relatives she had—a married sister, Maria Gerez, and her family, who were not members of the Church.
The family welcomed us and accepted our help. We had the opportunity to discuss the plan of salvation as well as make arrangements for the funeral services. Two weeks later, the entire family came to church to thank the members for the help and support they had received.
The family was introduced to the missionaries and, in a short time, the mother, Maria, and one of the daughters, Karina, were baptized. As the years passed, they were both active. The father, Ramon, would come at the end of Sunday meetings to pick up his family and he always participated in the recreational activities.
One Sunday afternoon, my wife and I were talking about missionary work. We both agreed that Ramon Gerez was in many ways a member of the Church; he just hadn’t been baptized.
We decided to arrange an evening together with both of our families. We did so and also invited the missionaries. Since we didn’t know each other well, the visit began with casual conversation. But, almost immediately, something inside of me was saying, “Ask him NOW, NOW!”
I realized that this was the key. All I had to do was ask him. So I looked Brother Gerez straight in the eye and said, “As you might imagine, we are here for a very special reason. My wife and I have noticed the good relationship you have with your family and that is why we would like to ask you a few questions.”
“Do you believe in God and in his Son Jesus Christ?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Do you love your wife and your daughters?” I continued.
“Yes,” he said again, showing a definite interest.
“Do you love your family enough that you would like to be with them after death and throughout eternity?” I asked.
Again he said, “Yes.”
“You are a good man,” I told him. “You love your family and there is no reason to postpone receiving the blessings of the priesthood and the temple any longer.” My wife then bore her testimony and we arranged for Ramon to receive the missionary discussions.
One month later, Ramon Gerez was baptized. He has since served in many positions in his ward and stake in Argentina.
I learned something from this experience: All we have to do is ask. If we are worthy of the blessings that come from asking with a “sincere heart and with real intent,” the Lord will answer our prayers by touching others with his Spirit. If the question is asked with the Spirit, the answer will also come in that manner, especially if we have the courage to ask.

This was well illustrated in my father’s patriarchal blessing. He was told in his blessing that he would be blessed with “many beautiful daughters.” He and my mother became the parents of five sons. There were no daughters born to them, but of course they treated the wives of their sons as daughters. This last summer when we had a family reunion, I saw my father’s granddaughters moving about tending to the food and ministering to the young children and the elderly, and the realization came to me that Father’s blessing had been literally fulfilled; he has, indeed, many beautiful daughters. The patriarch who gave my father his blessing had spiritual vision to see beyond this life. There was a disappearance of the dividing line between time and eternity.

Most people who stand six-foot-six and weigh over 300 pounds get some respect. Chad O’Watch is no exception. But in his case, there is no fear involved.
People in the Carry-the-Kettle First Nation (a native reservation) in Saskatchewan, Canada, and far beyond respect the 17-year-old Latter-day Saint because he is a genuinely good person. An honor student at the Nakoda Oyade Education Centre, where he serves as the student president, Chad has earned the school’s citizenship award three years in a row. He is the school’s go-to guy. He has been put in charge of the drink machine at sporting events because of his well-known honesty. If the school needs a representative at a conference, they send Chad. He attended the First Nations and Inuit National Science Camp as one of 5 students from Saskatchewan and only 50 or 60 from all of Canada.
“I love to go to school. I like to learn and be with my friends,” Chad says. “I like to help people. I can’t bear to see someone in need and not be helping.”
This helpfulness seems to be an inherited trait. Chad’s father, who maintains and drives the school’s buses, is known as a kind and generous man, always ready to share with those in need. Though a member of the Church, Brother O’Watch has not attended for many years. That’s why it’s so amazing that he did what he did one afternoon in April when Chad was 11.
Brother O’Watch and Chad were returning in an empty bus from the last run of the day. Instead of turning down his own lane as usual, Brother O’Watch made a surprise right turn into the parking lot of the Carry-The-Kettle Branch of the Regina Saskatchewan Stake. “The missionaries are waiting for you,” he said.
Chad was not a member of the Church and had no wish to be one. He refused to get off the bus. His dad, uncharacteristically, insisted. “There are other kids here,” he said. “You’ll have fun, and it will be good for you.”
So Chad obeyed, steaming and fuming. “I thought my dad was the worst guy alive,” he recalls. He met the missionaries and attended his first Primary meeting. He was astonished to find that he kind of liked it, and he went again the next week.
“After going a few times, I found that I just loved being there. There was a feeling of the Spirit. The missionaries lived next to the chapel, and before long I was there almost every day helping them and being taught.”
In November Chad was baptized and confirmed. “I had a warm, good feeling, like coming home to a place where I belonged.” He felt even more at home as he accepted callings and was eventually ordained a deacon. At the age of 13 he was called to serve as branch clerk and has fulfilled that assignment ever since. “From the first day, serving as a clerk was a joy. The Lord has called me specifically to do this, and it’s a privilege to do His work. When I started, balancing a checkbook was not one of the things I knew how to do. I had to learn that and lots of other things. But the Lord has blessed me with the ability to do my duty. Because of the challenge, I think I’ve grown in both mind and spirit.”
Whenever something needs doing, Chad steps forward. When no one in the branch knew how to lead the music, he taught himself and volunteered for the job. He has since led the singing in a tri-stake youth conference.
Chad’s outward devotion stems from inward conviction: “I know that Jesus Christ is my Savior. I know that He died for me. I love Him, and I know that He loves me. Knowing that I can return to live with Him and Heavenly Father changes everything. It makes me want to bring people to Him. Everyone’s life would be so much better if they had Jesus Christ in it.”
For Chad, serving a mission is a no-brainer. “It says in my patriarchal blessing that there are people waiting specifically for me. I owe it to them to bring them the gospel. I love to serve the Lord, and I just can’t wait to put on the armor of God and go do that.”
Although Chad never preaches to his friends, he has been a missionary since the day of his baptism. Elder and Sister Dudley, full-time missionaries serving on the reserve, have seen him in action. “He teaches the things he believes, but he does it in a fun way,” Sister Dudley says.
“Chad has had a tremendous influence on his nonmember friends just by being himself,” Elder Dudley explains. He sets such a good example that people see the difference between his standards and the standards of the world. One of Chad’s best friends is coming to seminary this year and has attended youth conferences.”
Chad is an easygoing person and fun to be around, but his standards are firm. “If I know in my heart that a thing isn’t right to do, I don’t do it. It’s as simple as that. It’s just not going to happen. I guess I’m hardheaded that way.”
Do his peers have a problem with this? “They respect the fact that there are things I don’t do. If they do those things, they do them somewhere else.”
“There’s a zone around Chad where things like that stop,” Elder Dudley says.
He does put himself in places where right things will be happening. He faithfully attends every meeting, youth conference, service project, fireside, baptism—you name it. He helps his dad maintain the buses. He gives people rides in his car when they need transportation. He pitches in to help make and mend. He embraces every chance to use his priesthood in blessing the lives of others. “When I bless or pass or prepare the sacrament, I think about the Savior and all He has done for me. It is such an honor to serve Him.”
Chad is committed to extending the blessings of the gospel to his ancestors. He does research with his grandmother and has been baptized in the Regina Saskatchewan Temple for several hundred of his ancestors—70 of them in one memorable session alone. “I love the temple,” he says. “There’s a feeling you get there that’s just unreal.”
Another source of inspiration is the Book of Mormon. “Reading the stories and applying them to my life have made me a much happier and better person.”
Practical as well as spiritual, Chad is determined to earn a college degree. But unlike some, he does not see it as a means of leaving behind the poverty and problems of the reserve. “I know deep down inside that my people need me. It’s my responsibility to help bring them to Christ. I really don’t know what my career path needs to be—a teacher might be one possibility—but I’m not looking to escape this place.”
Besides, the reserve can be beautiful. It lies amid low wooded hills on the vast Saskatchewan prairie. It’s a quiet, peaceful landscape that Chad loves. “When I was visiting Edmonton, I felt out of place. It was so noisy and busy. Here it’s quiet and laid-back. It’s just home.”
There are other attractions too. Chad likes to ski, skate, and snowmobile in the winter. He and his dad hunt deer in the fall and ducks and geese in the spring. They always share their game with the elderly.
Though perfectly willing to share his possessions, Chad’s dad is not so comfortable sharing his feelings. He has never explained why he chose to drop his son at the chapel that life-changing day in April. But a fair guess might be that the bus driver was driven by love. If so, the feeling is mutual. Chad has set a firm goal of being sealed to his family in the temple someday. He seeks an eternal bond with the man who made the crucial right turn at just the right time. How could any son show greater respect?

Ever since he was a boy, Wilford Woodruff wanted to know which church was true. When he was 26 years old, he still had not joined any church. He lived with his brother Azmon on his farm.
Wilford: Heavenly Father, help me to know how to live my life.
On December 29, 1833, two Mormon missionaries stopped at Azmon’s house. He and Wilford were both away working, but Azmon’s wife was home.
Missionary: God has restored His Church upon the earth, and we would like to tell you more about it.
Woman: My husband and brother-in-law are not home right now, but we would definitely be interested in hearing more.
The missionaries rented the local schoolhouse that afternoon. They passed out notices inviting anybody who wanted to learn more about the gospel to come to a meeting that evening.
When Wilford got home from working, his sister-in-law told him about the meeting. He immediately turned his horses around and started to the schoolhouse, praying the whole way to know whether or not the missionaries were true followers of Christ.
Woman: But, Wilford, what about supper?
Wilford: These men could be the answer to my prayers! I must go.
Wilford arrived at the schoolhouse, which was packed with people. His brother Azmon was already there. Wilford couldn’t find an empty chair, so he sat on one of the writing desks where he could see and hear everything.
Missionary: I bear strong testimony of the divine authenticity of the Book of Mormon. I also know that Joseph Smith is a prophet who has come to fulfill a great mission here on earth.
Wilford: I can feel the Spirit telling me that these are men of God.
After the missionaries were finished speaking, they asked members of the congregation if they would like to stand and say anything. Immediately, Wilford stood up and told everyone that he knew the missionaries were speaking the truth.
Wilford: The Lord urges me to bear testimony of the truth of this message. Do not oppose these men, for they are true servants of God. They have preached to us the pure gospel of Jesus Christ.
Two days later Wilford and his brother Azmon were baptized.

Before I was baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at age 14, my family lived in a house that belonged to Sister Gladys, a member of the Church. I was not interested in anything Sister Gladys said about the Church because I believed I was happy as I was.
Then, after much suffering, my father died. My mother and I loved him with all our hearts. His death did not leave my mother and me well off—either economically or spiritually.
My life became filled with bitterness and pain. Sometimes I thought God did not love me and had forsaken us. My mom had to go to work, and I was alone all day, crying and remembering the things we had done with my dad. I didn’t have many friends and didn’t want to do anything.
One day, Julian, Sister Gladys’s son, asked me if I wanted to talk to the missionaries. I told him no at first, but he seemed so disappointed I decided I would.
The missionaries greeted me kindly and introduced themselves. They looked so happy I decided to take the discussions.
During one of the discussions, they told me I could see my father again, he could be baptized by proxy, and we could be an eternal family. From that moment, I knew God had heard me and He loved me greatly. I decided to be baptized.
After my baptism, I wanted to share the truth with my mother, but she was not interested. We argued a lot because I had changed religions.
I kept praying and hoping that someday my mother would be baptized. After three years and many prayers, her heart was softened and she joined the Church. Now we live very happily, and our goal is to be sealed in the temple. And as if these were not enough blessings, the Church is now building a temple in my country!
I know that this is the true Church and that God loves us very much. I know that I am going to see my father again and that we can be a happy, eternal family.

After 11 exciting years of working at that job, I was in a meeting one night with those developing an essential part of the nuclear power plant. My secretary came in and said, “There’s a man on the phone who says if I tell you his name you’ll come to the phone.”

I said, “What’s his name?”

She said, “Harold B. Lee.”

I said, “He’s right.” I took the phone call. Elder Lee, who later became President of the Church, asked if he could see me that very night. He was in New York City, and I was in Washington, D.C. I flew up to meet him, and we had an interview that led to my call to be a mission president.

The head of the program I was working for was Admiral Hyman Rickover, a hard-working, demanding individual. I knew him well enough that I felt I needed to tell him as soon as possible that I was being called. As I explained the mission call to him and that it would mean I would have to quit my job, he became rather upset. He said some unrepeatable things, broke the paper tray on his desk, and in the comments that followed clearly established two points:
“Scott, what you are doing in this defense program is so vital that it will take a year to replace you, so you can’t go. Second, if you do go, you are a traitor to your country.”

I said, “I can train my replacement in the two remaining months, and there won’t be any risk to the country.”

There was more conversation, and he finally said, “I never will talk to you again. I don’t want to see you again. You are finished, not only here, but don’t ever plan to work in the nuclear field again.”

I responded, “Admiral, you can bar me from the office, but unless you prevent me, I am going to turn this assignment over to another individual.”

True to his word, the admiral ceased to speak to me. When critical decisions had to be made, he would send a messenger, or I would communicate through a third party. He assigned an individual to take my responsibility, and I trained him.

It wasn’t going to be hard for me to leave; I knew I had been called as a mission president by the Lord. But I knew that my decision would affect others. In the Idaho Falls, Idaho, area were many members of the Church whose jobs depended upon working in the nuclear program. I didn’t want to cause them harm. I didn’t know what to do. My heart kept saying, “Is this going to turn out all right, or will somebody be innocently hurt who depends on our program for livelihood?”

As I prayed and pondered about it, I had a feeling about the hymn “Do What Is Right.” A line from the hymn would come to mind: “Do what is right; let the consequence follow.” Other words from the hymn were reinforcing such as “God will protect you; then do what is right!” (Hymns, no. 237).

My last day in the office I asked for an appointment with the admiral. His secretary gasped. I went with a copy of the Book of Mormon in my hand. He looked at me and said, “Sit down, Scott, what do you have? I have tried every way I can to force you to change. What is it you have?” There followed a very interesting, quiet conversation. There was more listening this time.

He said he would read the Book of Mormon. Then something happened I never thought would occur. He added, “When you come back from the mission, I want you to call me. There will be a job for you.”

Photographs by Ntebaleng Twala and courtesy of the family
She rides her horse. She stands up on top of her horse. But that’s not all. This 12-year-old from South Africa even sails over jumps with her horse!
It takes a special kind of relationship between horse and rider to pull off such feats safely. And Kelly K. truly is quite close with her horse, Delta. Yet if you ask what her most important relationships are, she’ll probably tell you about her family.
“My siblings are really important to me,” Kelly says. Her parents are important to her as well, of course. Kelly explains that sometimes it’s harder for teens to stay as close to their parents when they get a bit older, but she’s found some strategies that help. “For me, it’s just the simple things, like talking with my parents or spending time with them that has improved our relationship.”
That closeness makes a huge difference in her life.
As Kelly says, staying close as a family starts with spending time as a family. One of the ways they enjoy spending time together is to get up close and personal with some of the biggest animals on the planet! “We go on safari rides several times a year,” Kelly says. Plenty of great memories have piled up during these rides.
“The funniest memory is when it was pouring rain one time,” she says. The safari ride was going full speed, which made those raindrops sting. So her family huddled close together, laughing, to form a sort of human shield against the rain. And it worked! “We made each other warm!” she says.
Sports are another big part of her family, especially among her siblings. It’s another way they spend time together, both in playing together and in cheering each other on. As the youngest of five, Kelly has found that the easiest way to bond with her older siblings is to make the effort to learn more about their sports. “I love watching my older brothers play rugby or golf. And I also try and learn their sports a little so that when they’re practicing we can interact and play together.”
Kelly’s older sister is also into riding horses, so that’s a great and natural way for the two of them to connect. Kelly also enjoys running track, and her siblings love to support her.
In addition, the whole family loves playing cards and other games together. As President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, then-Second Counselor in the First Presidency, has said, “In family relationships love is really spelled t-i-m-e, time.”1
With Kelly’s family members being some of her greatest friends, they also help fill in gaps when other friendships hit bumpy patches. For example, there aren’t a lot of Church members where Kelly lives. Sometimes the difference in values between Kelly and her friends has been a challenge for her.
“When I was younger, I kind of got lost in what my friends wanted me to be,” she says. “But reading the scriptures and praying helped. I also turned to my family.
“One time I asked my friends to change their bad music, but that didn’t really work. They just said, ‘If you don’t like it, go home.’ So I prayed and asked Heavenly Father what I should do. He told me to call my parents and go home.”
Come what may, she knows she can rely on her family for help. “My mom and dad, they’re always there.” And so is the rest of her family! One time, two of Kelly’s friends moved away. This was especially tough because Kelly had grown very close to those friends. Once again, her family made the difference.
“My family was there for me when I needed a shoulder to cry on or just to talk,” Kelly says about that difficult time. “They always know how to help me and just wrap me up in a blanket when I need it.”
With all she loves about living in South Africa—the weather, the safari animals, the temple in Johannesburg—there are also a few hard parts about living without many other Church youth nearby.
However, she knows the gospel and her faith in Jesus Christ have been her strength. “I don’t know where I’d be without the gospel,” Kelly says. “I am grateful that the Church is there. The scriptures really bless my life. And Heavenly Father is always going to be there. I live my standards because they help me feel happy and safe. And I don’t really want to be like the kids who get into a lot of trouble. I’d rather choose the right, because I know the gospel is true.”
There’s another massive motivation to Kelly for living the gospel—and that’s her love for her family. “I know that I can be with my family forever if I stick to the right path,” she says. “And I want to be with my family.”

An Invitation for Greater Spirituality
A few years ago I was invited to serve on the BYU Women’s Conference Committee. You may have noticed the 15,000 women on campus last month. That really had been my only experience with Women’s Conference prior to this invitation. But I felt strongly about the divinity of women and was happy to help with the planning.
It did not take long for me to see that this was not a typical university assignment. The committee was composed of women from the campus, from the community, and from the Church general boards. I found myself resistant to being a part of this company of women. What did I have to offer? I was not like them: I did not have a wardrobe of cute, coordinated jackets, and my hair was very long and somewhat unruly—not in the accepted style!
As the semester went on, and as these ­remarkable women accepted me with open arms, I began to realize that what I really desired was to be like them. I wanted to delve into the scriptures as they did and draw upon the Spirit as they did. I had to painfully look into myself to see that I was reluctant to be repotted. But if I was to become a woman of God, I needed to allow myself to become more and to be uprooted; I needed to dig a little deeper. I softened my heart and allowed myself to grow, with great gratitude to those beautiful examples on that committee. And I believe my hairstyle is getting closer.

I have seen that same heart in the Saints of the Pacific. In a small village on one of these islands, an older man and his wife accepted the invitation of the missionaries to sincerely ask the Lord if the lessons they were being taught were true. In this process, they also considered the consequences of the commitments that they would need to make if the answer that they received led to their accepting the restored gospel. They fasted and prayed to know the truthfulness of the Church and the veracity of the Book of Mormon. The answer to their prayers came in the form of a sweet but ringing affirmation: “Yes! It is true!”

Having received this witness, they chose to be baptized. This was not a choice without personal cost. Their decision and baptism carried with them a high price. They lost employment, they sacrificed social standing, important friendships dissolved, and the support, love, and respect of family were withdrawn. They now walked to church each Sunday, exchanging awkward glances with friends and neighbors who were walking in the opposite direction.

In these difficult circumstances, this good brother was asked how he felt about their decision to join the Church. His simple and unwavering reply was “It is true, isn’t it? Our choice was clear.”

These two newly converted Saints truly had the heart of the widow. They, like the widow, “cast in all” that they could give, knowingly giving of their “want.” As a product of their believing hearts and enduring faith during those hard times, their burdens were lightened. They were aided and surrounded by supportive and ministering Church members, and they were personally strengthened by their service in Church callings.

After they cast in their “all,” the greatest day came when they were sealed in the temple as an eternal family. Like He did the converts under Alma’s leadership, “the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord.” Such is the heart of the widow exemplified in this wonderful couple.

For days I had looked forward to my chance to work with the homeless in my city. But that cold Saturday morning it was not easy to feel charitable when I wished I could be back in my warm, comfortable bed. However, I was already committed.
As we arrived at our destination, despite the cold, many were already waiting for the kitchen to open. It was very quiet, and most of the people looked gloomy. There was not one smile or spark in anyone’s eyes, and their dark expressions matched the room they waited in.
I was frightened and decided that I didn’t want to work directly with them. Anyway, what would I say to them? How would I act around them? I didn’t want to make any of them angry with me. Was I supposed to give them pity or treat them like one of my buddies? Yes, it would definitely be easier to just stay away.
As these thoughts went through my head, we were led into a serving area with walls painted yellow, and pictures of rainbows and flowers placed strategically around the room. The brighter room calmed some of my nerves. Perhaps the sunshine and rainbows would subdue the “dangerous” ones.
While I was busy trying to conjure up more pleasant thoughts, the day’s jobs had been announced and I was left as the dishwasher. At least I would not have to interact much with them.
Soon, people began to filter in. Some knew each other, and others looked lost. I was amazed to see how different they all looked. There were even some who I would never have guessed were homeless.
There wasn’t much work for me at first, so I watched the other youth interact with the homeless. The longer I watched, the less scary these people looked to me. Those faces now began to lighten up. Smiles were everywhere, as was the sound of lively chatter. Soon, those who finished eating came and dropped their dishes in front of me. I smiled and tried to look cheerful. Some smiled back. I began to feel a lot better about these people. Maybe they weren’t so bad after all.
Suddenly, it was rush hour. I could barely keep up with the continuous flow of dishes, and my smile soon turned into a grimace and a plea for help. No one seemed to understand what I needed except one man.
Instead of walking off like everyone else, he cleaned off his plate and began to work on the mountain of dirty dishes. He was cheerful and made all those who passed him smile. He talked to me and made my work more enjoyable. This man had few material possessions, but he had a heart and compassion. His dirty appearance did not resemble his character at all. When we were finished, he told my supervisor what a good job I had done. Before I could say a word, he was gone.
In the car on the way home, I could not stop thinking of that kind man. Despite his circumstances he could still be cheerful and help others in need. I wished I could have told him how grateful I was for the example that he set for me.

Rosemarie Koning, 14, is a Dutch national living in Frankfurt with her parents. She also told about some missionary experiences.
“One time we were asked to mark off which of the churches do have bishops, prophets, and other required offices. We found out that our church is the only one that has all of them. I talked to my girl friend about it and showed her the chart. She was astonished to see that our Church is the only one with all the priesthood offices.
“Sometimes,” Rosemarie continued, “I get so excited about a lesson that I have to share it. So I take my seminary book to school and open it up. Out of pure curiosity, other students come over to find out what I have. I’ve even had school teachers ask me about it.”

Recently I had the privilege of performing the temple sealing ordinances for a wonderful family. It was a beautiful occasion, as such ceremonies almost always are. But if you had known the father of this family several years earlier, you would have understood what a miracle was taking place in the House of the Lord that day. In simple terms, this is what he told me:
“I started to go downhill with my first drink of alcohol. After that, it was easier to take other drugs. In order to take drugs, you must become a good liar. You learn to do whatever it takes to hide your bad acts from others.
“I watched friends die from drugs and suicide. Many others are still in prison. Had it not been for the small flicker of testimony instilled in me by my mother when I was a child, to know that Heavenly Father could still love me, I doubt if I would be telling you this today.
“I have learned that no matter how lost you feel, no matter how many things you have done wrong, there can be forgiveness and peace. The farther one drifts from the Lord, the harder it is to return to Him and His teachings. But once I opened my heart and called out in prayer to Heavenly Father to help me in the name of His Son Jesus Christ, I came to know the power of repentance and the blessings of obedience to God’s commandments.”
I wish that you could have been with us in the temple that day to feel the joy that filled the hearts of his family and me in that sealing room. May we all find the “peace of God, which passeth all understanding” (Philip. 4:7), as did this man and his family as they rejoiced together in the House of the Lord.

Many years ago, a young couple called my office and asked if they could come in for counseling. They indicated they had suffered a tragedy in their lives and that their marriage was in serious jeopardy. An appointment was arranged.
The tension between this husband and wife was apparent as they entered my office. Their story unfolded slowly at first as the husband spoke haltingly and the wife cried quietly and participated very little in the conversation.
The young man had returned from serving a mission and was accepted to a prestigious university in the eastern part of the United States. It was there, in a university ward, that he had met his future wife. She was also a student at the university. After a year of dating, they journeyed to Utah and were married in the Salt Lake Temple, returning east shortly afterward to finish their schooling.
By the time they graduated and returned to their home state, they were expecting their first child and the husband had employment in his chosen field. The wife gave birth to a baby boy. Life was good.
When their son was about 18 months old, they decided to take a short vacation to visit family members who lived a few hundred miles away. This was at a time when car seats for children and seat belts for adults were scarcely heard of, let alone used. The three members of the family all rode in the front seat with the toddler in the middle.
Sometime during the trip, the husband and wife had a disagreement. After all these years, I cannot recall what caused it. But I do remember that their argument escalated and became so heated that they were eventually yelling at one another. Understandably, this caused their young son to begin crying, which the husband said only added to his anger. Losing total control of his temper, he picked up a toy the child had dropped on the seat and flung it in the direction of his wife.
He missed hitting his wife. Instead, the toy struck their son, with the result that he was brain damaged and would be handicapped for the rest of his life.
This was one of the most tragic situations I had ever encountered. I counseled and encouraged them. We talked of commitment and responsibility, of acceptance and forgiveness. We spoke of the affection and respect which needed to return to their family. We read words of comfort from the scriptures. We prayed together. Though I have not heard from them since that day so long ago, they were smiling through their tears as they left my office. All these years I’ve hoped they made the decision to remain together, comforted and blessed by the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I think of them whenever I read the words: “Anger doesn’t solve anything. It builds nothing, but it can destroy everything.”

During the last week of school, Shawn had appendicitis and had to have an operation. He missed his school’s field day and a field trip while he was in the hospital. Then he had to spend the first three weeks of summer inside recovering. Shawn was disappointed, but he never complained. He was too busy finding other things to do! Among them were reading books and drawing, two of his favorite pastimes. His dad says, “Shawn can find a way to have fun in any circumstance, so if someone had to get sick and miss out, it couldn’t have happened to a better person.” The doctors told him that on July fourth, a month from the day of the surgery, he would be well enough to play outside. He celebrated with a water balloon fight!

The “prison temple” involved a time of obscurity, adversity, irony, and testimony. W. W. Phelps had briefly faltered, being part of the betrayals that had placed Joseph Smith in Liberty Jail. Joseph was, at the time, indignant over Brother Phelps’ failures. Yet later on, Joseph was generous. The next year, 1840, when W. W. Phelps pled for readmission into the Church, Joseph Smith, who pledged from jail to act later “in the spirit of generosity,” wrote a powerful and redemptive letter, the closing lines of which were, “Come on, dear brother, since the war is past, For friends at first, are friends again at last” (HC 4:164; see also pp. 162–63).

No wonder a grateful Brother Phelps, soon after Joseph’s June 1844 martyrdom, wrote the text “Praise to the man who communed with Jehovah” (Hymns, 1985, no. 27).

“Where’d you get those shoes? They’re ugly!”
Callie looked up from her book. Lisa had plunked down in the bus seat across the aisle and was making a face at her shoes.
“I don’t remember—they’re just shoes.”
Lisa had a pair of brand-new boots, trimmed with brass buckles. “They look like a discount store special to me.”
The words in Callie’s book swam before her eyes. Mom probably had gotten the shoes at a discount store. Since Dad’s hours had been cut at the plant, the whole family was on a budget. She tried to ignore Lisa.
But Lisa persisted. “So where did you get them?”
“What’s it to you, Lisa? Just bug off,” Callie said angrily. She looked out the window, glad that the next stop was Lisa’s.
“OK, OK! You don’t have to get mad! I was only wondering!” Lisa smirked as she left.
Callie watched Lisa walk up the driveway, her smart leather boots swinging stylishly.
That night Callie was helping with the dishes when she asked, “Mom, did you get my shoes at a discount store?”
“Yes. You needed some for school. Don’t you like them?”
“They’re OK.”
“OK but not great, I take it.”
“They’re fine, really,” Callie said hastily. She knew her parents were doing their very best to make ends meet.
“Did somebody say something about them?” Mom was concerned.
“Lisa did, but I don’t care—she’s just stuck-up.”
“Maybe so,” Mom said, “and not everyone has been taught to be kind, as you have.”
“Lisa certainly isn’t kind!” Callie purposely missed her mother’s point.
“Maybe she’s insecure.”
“Not likely!”
“Whatever she did,” Mom said, “you can choose to forgive her and not be angry. You’ll feel better if you do.”
Callie didn’t answer out loud, but she was thinking, Hmph! If you had seen what happened, you wouldn’t say that. Who wouldn’t be angry?
She was relieved when Lisa wasn’t at school the next day. That evening her dad was rushing to get ready for a church meeting.
“Callie,” Mom asked, “would you mind helping me with the grocery shopping tonight? We’ll drop Dad off and pick him up later.”
“Sure, Mom. My homework’s done, and that sounds like fun. Can we get an ice-cream cone on the way home?”
“You bet. With your help, we should have time for one—or we can get one after we get Dad later.”
When Callie entered the grocery store, she yanked a cart free and headed for the fruit section while Mom went to choose cereal. Everyone who saw Callie carefully choosing bananas and grapes smiled at her, and she smiled back.
She was in the pasta aisle when her pleasant mood was disrupted by a woman’s harsh voice in the next aisle.
“Now what are you doing?” the voice snapped. “Put that back on the shelf and stop trying to put everything you see in our cart. I can’t take you anywhere!”
Whoever the woman was talking to made some reply, but it was too soft and short for Callie to hear.
“What did you say?” the woman responded sharply. “Stop whining everytime you can’t have your own way.”
Callie had come to the end of her aisle. She decided to pass by the next one, then come back to it later. But as she hurried by, she almost ran into Lisa! Her head was down and her cheeks were red, but she had to have seen Callie go by.
How awful for Lisa’s mother to treat her like that! Mom would never talk to me that way! Callie stared down at her list, hoping that Lisa and her mother were not moving in her direction. She didn’t want Lisa to be humiliated anymore. Then she heard Mrs. Johnson at the checkout counter, barking at Lisa to hurry up.
Monday morning, Callie sat in her usual place on the bus, determined to act as if nothing had happened. Lisa walked straight to the back. She’ll probably never speak to me again, thought Callie, and I won’t have to worry about what to say.
But on the way home from school, Lisa sat behind Callie. “Did I mention that I saw your shoes at the discount store?”
Callie was stunned. Lisa was at it again! Should she say something about what happened in the grocery store? Then she remembered how ashamed Lisa had been, and suddenly it didn’t matter what Lisa said. Turning to face her, Callie said quietly, “I’m sorry you don’t like my shoes, but I can’t do much about it. Dad’s hours have been cut at work and we’re on a tight budget.”
Lisa blushed. All she said was, “Oh.”
Callie turned back around. She could have added “at least my mother cares about me,” but she hadn’t—and she was glad. She knew now what Mom had meant when she said that she didn’t have to be angry. She could also forgive.
Callie felt someone sit down next to her. It was Lisa! “Callie,” she said timidly, “I like your shoes. There’s really nothing wrong with them.”
Callie didn’t know what to say. “Thanks,” was all she could manage.
Lisa’s stop was coming up, but she obviously had something else on her mind. Finally, she faltered, “I guess you saw me and my mom at the store.”
Callie nodded.
“I know she loves me. I don’t understand why she always screams at me like that.”
Callie thought for a moment, then said softly, “Don’t worry about it, Lisa. She probably just hasn’t ever learned how to be kind—maybe no one ever taught her.”
The bus squeaked to a stop, and Lisa got up to get off. With a quavery smile she said, “Thanks, Callie. See you tomorrow?”
“You bet!”
Callie felt like singing as the bus moved on and she watched Lisa’s leather boots swing stylishly up her driveway.

Shannon, whose husband faced a pornography addiction, attended the support group for spouses. As she participated, she noticed a change in herself as well. At first she focused on the pain she felt over her husband’s addiction. But then, as she started learning and applying the steps, a miraculous change occurred. She says, “I began talking less and less about my husband and more about what I had learned from each step. I began to see how the Lord was working in my life.”

In 1926 President Fred Tadje, president of the German-Austrian Mission, called a mission conference to be held at Dresden, Germany, in August. The missionaries were to walk to this conference from their fields of labor basically “without purse or scrip,” although they had to carry a small amount of money or they could be arrested as vagabonds.
Elder Alfred Lippold and his companion, Elder Parker Thomas, took the north route. Somewhere along the way, the two called at a home where they met a woman and her eight children. She told the elders that her husband had left her and the children and that they were now without money. After she had let them in, the woman said: “If you travel without purse or scrip, then you must be hungry. Sit down.” She gave each of them a big slice of bread with plum jam on it. The missionaries blessed the breakfast and in the blessing on the food asked the Lord to give the woman what she needed.
The missionaries then departed. After they had walked about a mile, Elder Thomas said, “I must go back,” which he did without explanation.
On his return, Elder Lippold asked, “Why did you go back?”
Elder Thomas explained: “In our prayer we asked that the woman be given what she needed. I had what was needed—a $20 bill. It was in my pocket, and I went back to give it to her. It would have burned a hole in my pocket.”

My wife and I were having a serious discussion recently in which we were counting our many blessings. We named a host of things that have come to us, because of the Church, because of our family, because of the glorious restoration of eternal truth that has taken place in this day; and then she climaxed the discussion by asking this question: “What’s the greatest blessing that has ever come into your life?”
Without a moment’s hesitation, I said, “The greatest blessing that has ever come to me was on the thirteenth day of October in 1937 at 11:20 A.M. when I was privileged to kneel in the Salt Lake Temple at the Lord’s altar and receive you as an eternal companion.”
She said, “Well, you passed that test.” I believe that the most important single thing that any Latter-day Saint ever does in this world is to marry the right person, in the right place, by the right authority: and that then—when they have been so sealed by the power and authority that Elijah the prophet restored—the most important remaining thing that any Latter-day Saint can ever do is so to live that the terms and conditions of the covenant thus made will be binding and efficacious now and forever. And so I’d like, if properly guided, to make some suggestions that apply in all fields of choice—in all fields, at least all major fields, of activity—but that apply particularly to the matter of eternal marriage, singling that out as the one thing paramount above all others.
How do you choose a wife? I’ve heard a lot of young people from Brigham Young University and elsewhere say, “I’ve got to get a feeling of inspiration. I’ve got to get some revelation. I’ve got to fast and pray and get the Lord to manifest to me whom I should marry.” Well, maybe it will be a little shock to you, but never in my life did I ever ask the Lord whom I ought to marry. It never occurred to me to ask him. I went out and found the girl I wanted; she suited me; I evaluated and weighed the proposition, and it just seemed a hundred percent to me as though this ought to be. Now, if I’d done things perfectly, I’d have done some counseling with the Lord, which I didn’t do; but all I did was pray to the Lord and ask for some guidance and direction in connection with the decision that I’d reached. A more perfect thing to have done would have been to counsel with him relative to the decision and get a spiritual confirmation that the conclusion, which I by my agency and faculties had arrived at, was the right one.