Gospel Story Finder

Not too long ago, in the central part of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Ruth and I met with a large number of Latter-day Saints who live in impoverished circumstances. I asked the assembled congregation, “What are your challenges?”
There was no response. I asked again. Again, there was no response. I asked a third time.
Finally, an older man stood slowly and asked me in all sincerity, “Elder Renlund, how can we have any challenges? We have the gospel of Jesus Christ.”
Initially I felt like grabbing him and telling him to look around. They had nothing—no electricity and no running water. But then I understood. It is not what they possess that gives them strength; it is what they know. Their commitment to what they know gives them extraordinary spiritual stability. They keep the commandments. They are determined to be lifelong learners of spiritual things. They help each other. And they have Christ as their foundation.

Elder Hunter related an experience he had during the time he served as president of the Genealogical Society: “I went to see President McKay one day after a computer representative told me that his company had developed a cylinder that would hold a billion bits of information. I was excited! This was a break-through for genealogical record keeping. As I told President McKay about it, I said, ‘Isn’t that marvelous?’ He replied, ‘What’s marvelous about that? You haven’t had use for it before, have you?’ I replied, ‘No, we are just at that point now.’ And he said, ‘Well, that’s the reason the Lord has provided it now.’”

Long before he came to America, he believed in the Spirit of God and sought its guidance. His faith served him well just before he left his homeland, when he felt compelled to sell his beautiful home, his cars, and his other possessions. He gave the cash raised from these sales to his wife and children to live on. To critics of this apparently purposeless act, Kim Ho Jik replied only that the Spirit had instructed him to do so.
A few months after he arrived in America, the reason became clear. War broke out with the North Korean invasion of June 1950. Bombs destroyed his former home, and the South Korean government confiscated all automobiles for use by the military. But Kim Ho Jik’s family remained financially secure in his absence.

The link also created new twists. Two of Christine’s cousins, Sharon and Shailani Realigue, noticed the special kind of friendship between their cousin and her two friends. Christine introduced the Church to them, they were baptized, and the two cousins started to help reactivate less-active young women. They visited with Margie Paragoso, and that led the way for the baptism of Margie’s mother, sister-in-law, and cousin. “I really think this wouldn’t be possible were it not for my cousin’s example,” Sharon says.

One Sunday morning I was asked if I’d like to have home teachers visit me. I had just recently been divorced and was having a hard time facing my new life as a single mother with two small children. I said I would appreciate a visit. At the time, I was feeling bitter about my situation and felt alone in my struggles.
The following week, two good brothers came to my home. During their visit they asked the usual questions and shared a short gospel message with my family.
Then these good brothers asked, “Sister Nereida, what can we do to help you?”
Without thinking much about it, I told them the light bulbs were out above the stairs going up to the second floor. I had replacement bulbs, but I couldn’t reach high enough to change them, and I worried about using a ladder on the stairs. I also told them that I had no working lights in the backyard.
Right away they got up. One went out to his car and returned with a tool chest. He was almost six and a half feet (1.9 m) tall, so he climbed the stairs and changed the bulb without any problem. Meanwhile, his companion went to the backyard and noticed the wire connection was reversed. In no time he was able to fix it.
How grateful I have been to my home teachers over the years for their simple act of kindness, love, and dedication and for the wonderful lesson they taught me. My home teachers were truly angels who not only brought light to our home but also brought the peace, hope, and safety of the gospel, which brings light to any kind of darkness.

At Abha, we met an extraordinary man at precisely the time we needed him. Helwan Habtar, a graduate of American schools with masters degrees in both political science and economics, took us to his home where he recited for us his family genealogy back 22 generations. Intrigued, three other men who had come by for the evening also recited their genealogies back as far as 13 generations. They were delighted that we would make tape recordings of them.
We were fortunate to be in Abha on a Tuesday, market day for so many hundreds of years that Mr. Habtar could not tell us when the custom began. There is a market area for honey, one for frankincense, others for myrrh, fruits, vegetables, cloth, clothing, donkeys, sheep, and camels.
Our attention centered first on those areas selling frankincense and myrrh. Frankincense comes in golden lumps about as big as the end of a finger while myrrh is reddish-brown and comes in rock-shaped chunks or as grated shavings. The frankincense was relatively inexpensive (a couple of dollars a pound), but myrrh is still costly because it is used for “medicinal purposes: every newborn baby is given a taste of myrrh in water to warn him of life’s bitterness; burning myrrh in a censer near a child’s sickbed is supposed to guarantee a quick recovery. A 45-year-old Arab in Jerusalem related how his mother had made him jump over a dish of burning myrrh when he was sick as a child. Now we understood one possible reason why the Wise Men brought myrrh to the baby Jesus: it was to help Mary keep him well.
The story of the Wise Men, the baby Jesus, and the gifts they brought is a rich one, but more of that belongs to another place. For us, the significance of frankincense and myrrh in Arabia was that the customs of the desert still preserved living links with the world of Lehi, Nephi, and the Book of Mormon.

I know this feeling. I once had a similar experience. It happened 45 years ago. It happened on this very campus. It turned me into a life-long learner.

I had been on my mission for 13 months. I was obedient, and I was working hard. Yet I was having no success. To fix this problem, I committed to work harder. This solution did not work. I was getting quite discouraged and I blamed my external circumstances.

One day I received a call from a Samoan man who lived in Hauula. He said he had someone for us to teach. That night, in the Hauula chapel we taught a first discussion. At the end of the lesson I said these words." I know Joseph Smith is a prophet of God."  I turned to our friend and asked if he would like to share his testimony. He said, "I know that Joseph Smith is a prophet of God."  When he spoke, the room filled with power. The woman started to cry. She was converted in that very moment.

That night I did not sleep. I kept replaying the event. I said some words and nothing happened. My Samoan friend said the same words and the room changed. It became a sacred place. While I rejoiced in the conversion that took place, I was troubled by my lack of power. As I focused on my weakness, I became increasingly negative. I began, like Lehi, to travel in darkness. Like Lehi, my desperation became so great, I pled for mercy.

Mercy came. A very short time later I had a conversation with a man who was visiting this campus. I explained my concerns. He ask me, "Elder, when these pretty girls pass you on campus, what do you think about?" Before I could answer, he asked more questions. Did I ever become insensitive, angry, controlling, unkind, and so on?

He explained the need to change my heart. I asked how to do this seemingly impossible thing. In response, he asked, where did Jesus bleed from every pore? Was it on Calvary, where he was crucified, or in Garden the night before the crucifixion?

He explained that Jesus bled in the garden because he spiritually lived the temptation and pain before he lived it physically. He then said, "Go home and fast for a day. In the attitude of fasting and prayer, make a list of every behavior that pokes at your spirit. Once you have made the list, covenant with the Lord that you will be obedient." 

"You cannot just stop the old behaviors and start the new ones. You need to live through your temptations spiritually before you conquer them physically. So each morning go to the Lord with your list. In regards to each item, envision the temptations and specifically promise Him what you will quit doing or what you will start doing. Then go out. At night kneel down and report on each item. If you succeed on one, thank Him for his help. If you fail, ask His forgiveness and commit to keep that principle the next day. Then repeat the entire process. Do it every day for 40 days." 

We went home determined to do what he suggested. We began to fast and make our lists. It proved much harder than we assumed it would be. I would pray and then I would feel impressed to write down some item. Then arguing that there was nothing wrong with the particular thing, I would fight the impression.

For example, I felt impressed to put the word golf on the list. My argument was, "There is nothing wrong with golf. It is not against the rules and we only play on preparation day." What I did not admit, is that I spent a lot of time thinking about golf. I wrestled with the Spirit and I kept losing. Finally I wrote golf. Then I wrote down a number of other things that I did not want to write.

From the moment I wrote golf, I experienced the most intense desire to play golf. Everywhere I turned there was some reminder, some temptation to think about golf. I was in agony. So it was with each item on the list. Each day I had to fight all my natural inclinations and turn to the Lord for the help necessary to overcome myself. Sometime between the 30th and 40th day, I realized that my desire for the negative things on the list had disappeared. It was as if a great anchor had been cut from my ship. My capacity to do the positive things on the list had increased. It was as if a new engine had been added to my ship.

On the fortieth day my companion and I prepared to leave the apartment. We had prayer and walked toward the door. I felt impressed to go back and pray again.

The words of the second prayer were given to me: "Father we are now doing all in our power to serve Thee. These are Thy children. Please take them the rest of way. And let the glory be unto Thee forever." 

We went to our next appointment. As we taught, the room was filled by the third member of the Godhead. This means God was present in that room. Our words were filled with power. Our investigator was converted. We went to our second investigator, and again there was a manifestation of power. This investigator was also converted, as was the next and the next. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas we remained constantly in the presence of God and many people were converted.

How did this happen?
Because I could stand the pain no longer, like Lehi, I pled for mercy. When we make such a plea, it is a sign of a broken heart and a contrite spirit. The mercy came. The Holy Ghost ministered to me, and I increased in faith, hope and charity. To be filled with the pure love of Christ is to commune with Christ. To commune is to be one with.

Now I bear you my testimony, brothers and sisters, that I know this matter of tithing is a true principle and that blessings come from it. My parents taught me to pay tithing, and in the words of Enos I say, to their honor, “Blessed be the name of my God for it” (Enos 1:1).
We were refugees from Mexico. During the years that followed, father had a difficult time getting enough food to feed his family. I remember about two years after we came out of Mexico (that would be about 1914), father got a job in Oakley, Idaho, teaching in the Cassia Academy for $80 a month.
When father and his brother came out of Mexico, they both had large families. Knowing that they would have a difficult time to make a living (they brought nothing out of Mexico except what they could bring in one trunk), they joined together and pooled their earnings. After a short stay in El Paso, Texas, they went together to Los Angeles, California, where they worked as carpenters. Later they moved to Oakley, Idaho, where they could raise their families in a Latter-day Saint environment. When one of them was out of work, they divided the income of the other and thus eked out an existence for both families. My uncle got out of work one winter in Idaho. That left them the $80 that my father received for teaching with which to support about 17 people. They had to pay rent, they had to buy everything they ate, and they had to buy fuel, except that I went out on the side hill and dug the sagebrush from under the snow for fuel. I kept warm digging and mother kept warm poking it into the stove. The rest of them nearly froze.
The question came up in the family council—did father pay tithing on that $80? If he didn’t, he would have $40 a month to care for the family; if he did, it would be cut down by $4 and he would have $36 a month. I remember that council, and I remember that they decided that they would pay their tithing, and I remember that they sent me with the tithing to the bishop. It was cold, and I didn’t have warm clothes, and I wondered what really had gone wrong with father. I learned from that—the training of my parents—that there is truth in the Lord’s promises.

Loren Eiseley walked along a stormy beach late one afternoon “with the wind roaring at his back and the seagulls screaming” overhead. Tourists who came to the beach would collect shellfish and sea life tossed up each night, boil them in large kettles, and take the shells home as souvenirs. Eiseley walked far down the beach around a point away from the collectors and saw “a gigantic rainbow of incredible perfection.” Toward its foot he “discerned a human figure … gazing … at something in the sand.”

“In a pool of sand … a starfish had thrust its arms up stiffly and was holding its body away from the stifling mud. … [“Is it still alive?” Eiseley asked.]

“‘Yes,’” [said the man standing in the rainbow] and with a quick … gentle movement he picked up the star and spun it … far out into the sea.

“It may live,” he said, “if the offshore pull is strong enough. …”

At first Eiseley felt only the futility of the man’s efforts, “throwing one starfish at a time back into the sea when it nightly tosses out hundreds.” He walked away, looking sadly “at the shell collectors … [and] the steaming kettles in which … voiceless things were being boiled alive.”

The next morning Eiseley again went to the beach. Again the star thrower was there. “Silently [Eiseley] … picked up a still-living star, spinning it far out into the waves. … ‘I understand,’ [he] said. ‘Call [me a star] thrower [also].’”

Of throwing the starfish back he wrote, “It was like a sowing—the sowing of life on an infinitely gigantic scale. …” He saw the star thrower stoop and throw once more. Eiseley joined with him. They “flung and flung again while all about [them] roared the insatiable waters.”

They, “alone and small in that immensity, hurled back the living stars.” They set their shoulders and “cast, … slowly, deliberately, and well. The task was not to be assumed lightly.” (Loren Eiseley, The Star Thrower [New York: Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich, 1978], pp. 171–73, 184.) Each moment counted if they were to rescue the starfish that they sought to save.

Some time ago, when I was living in the mission field, the missionaries invited me to come see a couple they had been teaching for some time. The missionaries reported to me what a choice couple they were. However, they were very much afraid to make the change and the commitment of baptism. As we entered the home of this wonderful family and found ourselves in their living room, I recognized their fear and anxiety over this visit. I understood that they had been taught the gospel, that they had received all of the discussions, and that they already had a testimony that the gospel is true. I felt prompted to ask them, “What do you think the Lord expects you to do when you enter into the bond of the covenant of baptism for the forgiveness of sins?”

I remember that the woman looked at him and the man looked at her with the sweetness of two wonderful persons in their first years of marriage, and finally he said, “I think we will have to pay our tithing.” I remember that I answered, “Yes, that is true, but there is something of more importance. What do you think the Lord will expect you to do when you enter into this covenant?”

After some inquiring glances from her to him and from him to her, he said quite hesitantly, “We must give up our drinking, our coffee, and our smoking.” Again I told him, “Yes, that is true, but there is something of more importance.”

After we had discussed all the necessary requirements for baptism and I was still insisting that there was something of more importance, they became even more uneasy about what else there still was to do. I felt inspired to say to them, “I can see that you have learned to love the Lord and understand the basic principles of the covenant which you are about to make with him. Now the Lord wants you to take the Spirit, which will be given to you as his gift after baptism, and make it the greatest objective of your life—to let this Spirit be unfolded within you to its fullness of power. Thus, the Lord wants you both to love one another with an even deeper, more sensitive, caring love—a love of a new dimension that is different from the way the world knows—even to such a dimension that you will be overwhelmed by your insight, your patience, your caring, and sensitivity so that you will both be filled with a new dimension of joy and peace.”

The expressions on their faces changed from fear, anxiety, and despair to relaxed smiles of rejoicing. He reached for her hand, looked dearly into her eyes, pressed her hand to his lips, and said with conviction, “I think we are ready.”

For my second example I turn to the release of a stake president in Star Valley, Wyoming—even the late E. Francis Winters. He had served faithfully for the lengthy term of twenty-three years. Though modest by nature and circumstance, he had been a perpetual pillar of strength to everyone in the valley. On the day of the stake conference, the building was filled to overflowing. Each heart seemed to be saying a silent thank-you to this noble leader who had given so unselfishly of his life for the benefit of others.
As I stood to speak following the reorganization of the stake presidency, I was prompted to do something I had not done before, nor have I done so since. I stated how long Francis Winters had presided in the stake; then I asked all whom he had blessed or confirmed as children to stand and remain standing. Then I asked all those persons whom President Winters had ordained, set apart, personally counseled, or blessed to please stand. The outcome was electrifying. Every person in the audience rose to his feet. Tears flowed freely—tears which communicated better than could words the gratitude of tender hearts. I turned to President and Sister Winters and said, “We are witnesses today of the prompting of the Spirit. This vast throng reflects not only individual feelings but also the gratitude of God for a life well lived.” No person who was in the congregation that day will forget how he felt when he witnessed the language of the Spirit of the Lord.

The next part of Annapurna’s dream came true when at last she was baptized. There was no branch in Chandigarh, so the Muralas made the five-hour journey to New Delhi for the baptism. Ironically, now that Annapurna was free to go to church, the nearest branch was far away. “Before I was baptized, the church was very near my house, just on the corner at the end of the road, and I didn’t have the opportunity to go,” she says. “Now the church was five hours away, so we could go only once a month.” Then Annapurna became pregnant, and the five-hour trip was too taxing for her.
But then came another miracle, in the form of two Latter-day Saint families. “God takes care of you,” explains Santosh. A British couple, Brother and Sister Beer, came to Chandigarh, where Brother Beer worked in highway construction. Sister Beer taught institute classes to the Muralas, and the Beers held family home evening with the Muralas every week. A Korean family, the Moons, also moved to Chandigarh, where Brother Moon worked for a construction company. Every Sunday for two years, this little group of Latter-day Saints met at the Moons’ home for sacrament meeting. Shortly after Santosh finished his residency in Chandigarh, the Beers and the Moons moved away too.
In New Delhi, where Santosh is receiving specialized training in heart surgery, there are two branches of the Church. Now Annapurna’s knowledge about the Church is catching up with her knowledge of the gospel. She has learned how to sing hymns and conduct meetings.

We lived several years in Brazil. Soon after arriving, I met Adelson Parrella, who was serving as a Seventy, and his brother Adilson, who was serving in our stake presidency. Later I met their brother Adalton, serving as a stake president in Florianopolis, and another brother Adelmo, serving as a bishop. I was impressed by the faith of these brothers, and I asked about their parents.
The family was baptized in Santos, Brazil, 42 years ago. Adilson Parrella said, “At first, Father seemed very excited about joining the Church. However, he [soon] became less active and asked our mother not to attend church.”
Adilson told me that his mother sewed clothing for the neighbors to pay for her children’s bus fare to church. The four little boys walked together over a mile to another town, boarded the bus for 45 minutes, and then walked another 20 minutes to the chapel.
Although unable to go to church with her children, Sister Parrella read the scriptures with her sons and daughters, taught them the gospel, and prayed with them. Their humble home was filled with the rich blessings of priesthood power. The little boys grew up, served missions, were educated, and married in the temple. The blessings of the priesthood filled their homes.
Years later, as a single sister, Vany Parrella entered the temple for her own endowment and, later still, served three missions in Brazil. She is now 84 years old, and her faith continues to bless the generations that have followed her.

Parley P. Pratt told of the suffering of his family in those first months in the valley. He wrote of the invasion of insects, of the drought, and of how he and his family worked constantly to encourage their gardens to grow. He also wrote that many of the people had to go with bare feet for several months, keeping their moccasins for only special occasions. Sometimes they had only a little flour and some cheese.
“In this way,” he wrote, “we lived and raised our first crop in these valleys. And how great was our joy in partaking of the first fruits of our industry … to redeem the desert … and to make her hitherto unknown solitudes blossom as the rose.”

I counted the days on my calendar. Where had summer gone? I could I hardly believe my first day of middle school was only one week away. I felt excited, glad, and scared to death—all at once.
As my friends and I began making plans for school, we each described the new outfits we had picked to wear on the first day, and debated if backpacks or book bags were the “in” thing this year. We joked about keeping our lockers organized, with each book in perfect class sequence.
Together, my friends and I completed a list of items we thought would be important to put into our lockers. A hair brush, a magnetic mirror, and a pencil box were some of the ideas.
Then Karen spoke up. “I’m going to put a picture of the Savior in my locker.” Everyone became silent. Suddenly the brush and mirror didn’t seem quite as important anymore.
When the first day of school finally came, my anxiety grew. I walked through the hallway to locker number 1290 and began turning the black knob to complete my combination.
I unloaded my new pink book bag and filled my locker with notebooks, pencils, and personal belongings. Then I unzipped a small pocket on the side of my bag to remove a three-by-five picture of the Savior. It was a picture I had received in church nearly a year ago. With a magnet, I carefully hung the photo. There it would stay as my continual reminder to always stick up for what I believe in and to “stand for truth and righteousness.”
I called to Karen, who had a locker just a few feet from mine, and motioned for her to come and see what I had done. She looked in my locker and smiled when she saw I had followed her example.
I often hear people talk about peer pressure and how damaging it can be. But when I look at the picture of the Savior hanging in my locker, and notice his picture in many of the lockers of classmates around me, I realize peer pressure can be positive as well as negative.
I can only imagine how much better this world would be if all the youth of the Church would truly take a stand for truth and righteousness. What a powerful group of peers that would make.

My husband had a lot of relatives that were in Nauvoo at that time. One of them was Zina Huntington who later became one of the general presidents of the Relief Society. She lived in upstate New York when the missionaries visited their home and left one copy of the Book of Mormon for the family to read. As a young woman, Zina held that book in her hands and said, "This is the truth, truth, truth."[15] She was converted to the gospel before she ever opened the book. She knew by the Spirit that the Book of Mormon was a true record and she made the transition from living in a beautiful two-story rock home on a farm in upstate New York, to going with the saints to Kirtland, Missouri, Nauvoo, and later traveling west. She had the confidence to leave her comfort zone, so to speak, because of her faith and testimony. As I go down Parley's Street and read those inscriptions, I weep because I feel the spirit of those men and women. I feel the sacrifices they made for us so we can be where we are now.

Zina Huntington married and while living in Nauvoo she was expecting a baby. It was in that condition that she left her home, crossed the Mississippi River, got just a little further west and had the baby on the banks of a river. The river was named Chariton. So the baby was named Chariton. I think about those kinds of things, and then I think about what we've been asked to do. And I think, "Oh, what we're doing is easy compared to them." But you know what? It's not. What we're doing now is pivotal and it's not easy. And it's not going to be easier. In fact, I think it may get harder for us. And I think that we are going to have to be very strong and firm, we're going to have to be like Zina and know-"It's the truth, truth, truth." So as we think about making transitions and moving out of our comfort zones, think about those men and women. How did they do it? What helped them make the transition? I believe it's all about having a testimony of Jesus Christ. And that if you have a testimony of Jesus Christ, and His restored Gospel, you will be able to make any of life's transitions. They had a testimony, and they had a temple. They had covenants - so they had a focus and they knew exactly where they were headed. Nothing else really mattered.

Larry scuffed at the dirt with his worn sneaker. His hands were pushed deep into his jeans pockets as he considered the deepening hole that he had unconsciously dug.
“Well, c’mon then, let’s go,” Steve said impatiently. “We won’t get caught,” he added. “I’ve done it lots of times.”
“How far is it?” Larry asked.
“It’s not far. C’mon, let’s go.”
Larry kept his head down as he dug out the sloped sides of the hole with his toe. Now the walls were almost straight. Perfect, he thought, for a game of pots. Since he’d left the prairies, he hadn’t played marbles. They just aren’t big on marbles out here, he had decided.
“Ahh, forget it. You’re just afraid of getting caught,” Steve said, turning to walk away.
“No, I’m not,” Larry mumbled, but he knew that he was. He had just moved to the West Coast with his family, and he knew that his parents would be unhappy with him if he got into trouble with the first friend that he made. On the other hand, Steve had seemed like a decent guy to have as a friend, and now Steve was going to show him where a real cherry tree was!
“OK, OK, I’m coming,” Larry called, “but I have to be home for supper.”
“No problem,” Steve called back, gesturing for Larry to catch up.
“I hope there aren’t any dogs,” Larry added as he trotted up beside Steve.
“Don’t worry. There’s just an old lady who lives by herself.”
“Those cherries better be as good as you say they are.”
“They’re the best cherries around. Hey, haven’t you ever gone raiding before?” Steve asked.
“I swiped some tomatoes once,” Larry answered, embarrassed. “But I knew I shouldn’t have done it.”
“Tomatoes!”
“They don’t have cherry trees on the prairies, where I came from.”
“There’s the yard,” Steve whispered.
A two-story house, surrounded by a tall wooden fence, was at the intersection of two quiet streets. In the middle of the backyard, reaching as high as the house itself, was the cherry tree. Larry could make out the tempting clusters of ripe cherries. He told himself that they couldn’t possibly taste as good as the ones in the store—the ones that his mother usually said were too expensive to buy.
“This way,” Steve said as he quickly cut into the lane that ran behind the house.
Peering through a crack in the fence, Larry could see beautifully manicured bushes and rows of brightly colored flowers that lined the fence and the carpetlike lawn. It’s just like a picture, Larry thought. Then he spied a woman meticulously weeding a bed of flowers at the back of the house.
“Rats!” Steve growled. “We’ll have to call it off for today.”
“Why?” Larry asked.
Steve drew his cheeks in and puckered his lips as if he had just bitten into a lemon. “Why! Man, are you crazy? The old lady is right there. How are we supposed to get to the tree without her seeing us?”
“I have an idea,” Larry said. “Follow me.”
“What are you going to do?”
Larry was pretty sure that Steve wouldn’t think much of his idea, so he didn’t answer. Instead, he strode along next to the fence until he came to a gate that was next to the back of the house. He felt a little strange, knocking on a gate, but he did it anyway.
“What are you doing?” Steve hissed again, just as a small, pleasant voice called out from inside the yard, “Yes?”
“Uh, my name’s Larry. I was wondering if my friend and I could pick your cherries for you.”
“I don’t believe it,” Steve muttered. “I’m getting out of here.” He turned to go, but Larry grabbed him by the arm.
The gate opened with a click, and a tiny, smiling face with glasses peeked out. “Hello,” the old lady said. “I couldn’t quite hear you before. What did you say?”
Steve folded his arms and looked up at the sky.
“I noticed that you hadn’t picked your cherries yet, and well, I was just wondering if we could pick them for you … and maybe keep some for ourselves too,” Larry stammered. He scuffed his toe in the dirt next to the cement walk, unconsciously digging another marble pot.
The orange ball of a sun began to dip into the west horizon, and a light, cool wind rustled through the leaves of the sturdy cherry tree. Larry grabbed a clump of four dark red cherries dangling in front of him. He put three into the plastic pail and popped one into his mouth. He couldn’t believe how sweet the cherry was, better than any he had had from any store.
“I don’t believe it,” Steve said, spitting out a cherry pit. “We get to keep half of what we pick. How did you know she’d go for it?”
“I guess when you want something bad enough, you’ll even ask for it,” Larry told him.
“My folks will sure be happy to have some of these,” Steve said, holding up a pail loaded with ripe cherries ready to be divided.
“Mine, too,” Larry agreed, looking at his own pail.
“I was just thinking,” Steve said as he climbed down from the tree. “I know where there’s a great plum tree just a few blocks from here.”

Steve was working on a term paper when a credit card company called his Brigham Young University dorm. The company was offering cards to students and wondered if he would like to apply. Happy to take a break from studying, Steve agreed to answer a few questions. He told the representative he was on scholarship and had no income. Since he planned to serve a mission at the end of the year, it would be a long time before he graduated and began a career. I’ll never get approved, Steve thought as the conversation ended. To his amazement, he received a $2,000-limit credit card a week later in the mail.
Credit card debt can get out of control, causing heartache and deep financial troubles if unchecked. President Gordon B. Hinckley has said, “Debt can be a terrible thing. It is so easy to incur and so difficult to repay. Borrowed money is had only at a price, and that price can be burdensome” (Ensign, Mar. 1990, 4). Steve learned this lesson the hard way. For the first few months he had his credit card, it stayed in his wallet. But in the last three weeks of his freshman year, Steve went on a spending spree. “After a year of living on a few hundred dollars a month, I decided to go have some fun,” says Steve.
With his credit card he paid for weekend trips and new clothes. By the time he went home, he had racked up charges nearing his credit limit. As a result, he spent the summer before his mission working frantically to pay off the debt. “It wasn’t a positive learning experience,” says Steve. “At the time, I didn’t realize that a credit card doesn’t expand your income now; it shrinks your future income because of debt.”

In January 1976, I received a telephone call from a friend who worked for social services. He asked if my wife and I would be willing to take in a foster child. At the time we had two young children of our own, but we agreed to open up our home to 17-year-old Kathy.
Soon after arriving in our home, Kathy asked if she could attend church with us. Of course we said yes, and soon Kathy was attending church regularly. Many of Kathy’s friends from her former congregation noticed her absence, and they were unhappy to find out that she was attending the LDS Church.
One day after school, Kathy told us that her former church was planning to stage a “Save Kathy” night for their youth ministry meeting. Kathy asked if I would accompany her to that meeting and help her defend the Church. I reluctantly agreed because although I didn’t want to argue with her friends about doctrinal differences, I knew that she didn’t yet know enough about the Church to defend it. I decided to bring another guest, Richard Jones, who had just returned from his mission.
The day of “Save Kathy” night was a day of fasting and prayer for all of us. I prayed that the Spirit would be present at the meeting and that there would be no contention.
When we arrived at the church that evening, we sensed some animosity, but the youth minister welcomed us warmly and invited us to tell the group about the Church and our beliefs. As Richard shared what was then the first missionary discussion and taught about the Restoration, the 15 or so young people in the room listened carefully. Even the youth minister was captivated.
We then spent the rest of the evening answering questions and having a wonderful discussion about the gospel. The animosity we had felt at first quickly subsided as we calmly explained our beliefs. There was respect on both sides. The Holy Ghost filled the room as we shared our testimonies and responded to questions.
At the end of the discussion, the minister thanked us for coming. Then, as we turned to leave, a young woman rose and said she wanted to tell us something. She said that before we came, she didn’t think Mormons were Christians, but now she believed we might have been better Christians than she was.
We could not have scripted a better ending to our discussion. I know the meeting would never have gone so well if we had not fasted and prayed, pleaded for the Spirit to be present, and petitioned the Lord that there be no contention. Only with the Holy Spirit present can we be effective in sharing the gospel message.

Martha Isgett of Chapel Hill, North Carolina, volunteered to help in the classroom of each of her eight children. As she helped with classroom projects, she noticed that some of the children had difficulty finishing their work. Others were not used to cleaning up their projects. Martha could see that she could help these children by teaching them to work.
“I had done this at home with my six boys and two girls,” Martha said. “They all had required chores and knew we would have a schedule of work for them. When they finished they had rewards, but they weren’t allowed to play until their duties were complete. Now my children are older and are having more expected of them in school, in jobs, and on missions, because they have learned to be responsible at home.”
Martha served in the parent-teacher organizations in her school, in her county, and in the state. She has been able to share her ideas about how parents can help children succeed. Now, she works as a substitute teacher, where she continues to help children form good habits. “I want the children to come to school prepared and to take pride in their work. I know that parents at home can help by taking interest in their children’s assignments and encouraging home and school projects to be completed.”