Gospel Story Finder

Jenny rested her head against the school bus window. This was the first time she had ridden the bus to school, and she felt strange—sort of lonely, despite the greetings by the other children.
When the bus stopped at the corner of Cedar and Oak, she noticed an old man with white hair standing by the curb. He looked at the bus and waited. Just as the bus began to move again, he quickly raised his arm and gave a friendly wave.
“He waved to us,” Jenny blurted out to Billy who had sat down next to her. “Why did he do that?”
“I don’t know. He just does. He’s just some old man.”
One morning before Halloween, Jenny said, “Look, Billy. There’s a cardboard pumpkin on the old man’s door.” When the old man waved, Jenny smiled and waved back. She felt good inside.
By late November, the days grew colder. One morning, as a bitter chill frosted up the windows, Jenny said, “I wonder if the old man will be there today?” She crooked her neck to look up ahead. She saw him tacking up a colorful turkey decoration. “Hurray!” she exclaimed.
In the days that followed, Jenny didn’t wonder anymore if the old man would be there. She knew that he would be. It was as simple as that.
Time drew near for school to let out for the December holidays. Every morning Jenny anxiously glanced at the old man’s door. On a cold and dismal morning just before school let out, Jenny spotted a snowman decoration on the old man’s door. In spite of the cold, she felt sunshine inside when the old man smiled and waved.
A light snow was falling when school started again in January. Bundled up snugly, Jenny bounded up the steps of the bus. It sputtered and shuddered as it neared Cedar and Oak. When everyone began to cheer and shout, Jenny knew that the old man was there.
And then one morning, as a February drizzle fell in a gray and dreary mist, Jenny thought, Valentine Day is almost here. I wonder what the old man will put on his door. Her eyes searched for him. He wasn’t at the curb, or on the sidewalk, or on his porch. As the bus rolled by, she pressed her hands against the window, peered at his house through the streaks of dribbling rain, and felt sad. Where’s the old man? she wondered. She turned to Billy. “Do you know his name?”
“Mr. Brown. He’ll probably be back tomorrow.”
But the next morning he wasn’t there, either. Nor the next morning. Nor the next.
Finally Jenny said, “We have to call and find out where he is.”
Billy rolled his eyes. “There are hundreds of Browns.”
“But we know his address—717 Cedar.”
At lunchtime Jenny and Billy found a telephone book in the office. “Just look at the Browns one at a time,” Jenny said. “Not the name, just the address.”
“OK, but this could take days,” Billy moaned.
Jenny lowered her head. “Just start looking,” she said firmly.
With a steady rain beating against the windows, they read through the listings on the first page, then the next. Just as Billy licked his finger to turn the page, Jenny shouted, “Here it is—717 Cedar! Brown, Quincy. Let’s call.”
“Not me. Maybe he’s not there anymore.”
“But maybe he is.” Jenny picked up the phone and dialed the number.
After two rings, a woman’s voice said, “Hello?”
Jenny gulped. “Mrs. Brown?”
“Yes?”
“This is Jenny. A friend of Mr. Brown. Is he there?”
“A friend of his?”
“Sort of. I used to see him from the school bus every morning.”
“Oh, the school bus. He’s been worried about that.”
“Worried? That’s great! I mean, I’m glad to know he still lives on Cedar.”
“Oh, yes, but he’s been in bed with the flu. He’s over the worst of it, but until he gets his strength back, he has to stay inside. Unless the sun is out. Sunshine would do him a world of good.”
Jenny thanked Mrs. Brown and hung up. Sunshine, she thought. She raised an eyebrow and looked at Billy. “You’re thinking,” he said.
“Yes,” she said. “I’m thinking about sunshine. We have a few more days before Valentine Day. And I know just what we can do.”
When Valentine Day finally arrived, the sky was cloudy as they rode to school.
“All set?” Jenny asked.
“All set,” Billy said. “But the sun isn’t out.”
“The bus driver said it will be OK. He checked with Mrs. Brown. She’ll be there if Mr. Brown can’t be.”
As the bus rumbled along, Jenny could hardly breathe. But even though she wished as hard as she could, the sun did not come out.
“It’s not going to work,” Billy said. “Maybe we should wait.”
“We can’t,” Jenny said with a sigh. “Valentine Day is today. I guess we’ll have to give them to Mrs. Brown.”
The brakes whined as the bus slowed to a stop. When Mrs. Brown came outside, Billy and the others rifled through their backpacks and found the valentines they had made, and Jenny reached under the seat and pulled out the huge red heart trimmed in white that they had all signed. They watched silently as the bus driver collected them and gave them with a grin to Mrs. Brown. Mrs. Brown smiled at everyone on the bus, then hurried back to the house.
“We didn’t even get to see him,” Jenny mumbled.
That afternoon as the closing school bell rang, bright rays of sunshine streamed in through the classroom window. “Great!” Jenny grumped as she frowned at the clear blue sky. “Where were you this morning?”
She slumped in her seat as they rode the bus back home. Even though the sun was shining now, inside she felt as if the clouds had not gone away.
When they reached the corner of Cedar and Oak, Billy poked her with his elbow. “Look!”
Jenny turned her head and peered out the window. “Wow! There it is,” she said. “The heart we made is on Mr. Brown’s door.” She bounced up and down and clapped her hands. “And look at that.”
A roar went up, and everyone clambered for the windows on that side of the bus. Valentines filled Mr. Brown’s yard. Red hearts on long skinny sticks poked up all over the place. As they got closer, Jenny squinted her eyes. “They’re ours,” she squealed. “The ones we made for him.”
“Look over there, Jenny,” Billy said, as another cheer came from the bus.
There, standing in the sunshine and waving from the curb, was the old man at Cedar and Oak. Jenny beamed as she waved back.
“Well,” Billy said, “the old man is back, and things are just the way they were.”
Jenny’s eyes sparkled. She felt warm and snug inside. “No,” she said with a smile. “Mr. Brown is back, and things will never be the same old way again.”

Children have the capacity for compassion. They have no fear to express their genuine feelings. In the popular movie entitled Home Alone, a scene near the end grips the viewer’s emotions and causes that familiar lump to fill the throat. The scene takes place in a chapel; the time is Christmas; the two lonely characters are seated next to one another on a church bench. The older man, who lives by himself, is estranged from family and bereft of friends. His next-door neighbor, played by McCaulay Culkin, is the lad left “home alone” by his family, which had departed for a European vacation, inadvertently forgetting this one small family member.
The boy asks the lonely man if he has any family. The gentleman explains quietly that he and his son and his son’s family have parted ways and no longer communicate. In the innocence of youth, the boy blurts out the plea, “Why don’t you just call your son and tell him you are sorry and invite him home for Christmas!”
The old man sighs and responds, “I’m too afraid he would say no.” The fear of failure had blocked the ability to express love and to voice an apology.
The viewer is left to wonder concerning the outcome of the conversation, but not for too long. Christmas comes; the boy’s family returns. He is pictured at an upstairs bedroom window looking in the direction of the old man’s sidewalk. Suddenly he views a tender scene as the neighbor welcomes his returning son, his daughter-in-law, and their children. Son embraces father, and the old man buries his head against the shoulder of his precious son. As they turn to walk on, the old neighbor looks upward to the bedroom window of the house next door and sees his small friend observing the private miracle of forgiveness. Their eyes meet, their hands express a gentle greeting of gratitude. “Welcome home” replaces “Home alone.”

We learn from Church History, that the town of Laie and the Laie Temple both came to be because of a beautiful vision. Around 1864, Elder William R. Cluff, while in Laie, retired to a small grove of trees to pray. According to one account, “During that prayer… Brigham Young and Heber C. Kimball appeared to him, telling him that Laie would be a gathering place for the Church and that a temple would be built there.” That vision has come to pass. Laie is now a beautiful LDS Community, on an island, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Furthermore, in 1919, President Heber J. Grant dedicated the Laie Temple. Now we have that majestic building in our midst, which in its early history, was sometimes referred to as the Taj Mahal of Hawaii.

Shortly after I joined the Church, a Relief Society leader was joking about funny situations. Suddenly she started joking about me in front of everybody. I felt uncomfortable and let myself be offended.
My first thought was not to return to the ward. I opened my scriptures, trying to find comfort. As I read, I came across a verse where Jesus asked those offended by His teachings, “Will ye also go away?” (John 6:67).
Immediately, I answered in mind, “No, I will not go away!”
I called the Relief Society president, who recommended that I call the sister who had joked about me. I called her and expressed my feelings. We concluded that a sense of humor is great but that we shouldn’t joke about someone we don’t know in front of a group of people. We also talked about being sensitive to new ward members.
I continued attending that ward while I lived in that city. I had many wonderful experiences following my conversion to the gospel.

Cecilia Celeste Merrell of the Globe Second Ward, Globe Arizona Stake, had no intention of liking the astronomy course she had to take. But when she entered class on the first day and saw the teacher dressed as a wizard, she began to get other ideas.
Now she can’t stop winning awards for her astronomy projects. She’s won just about everything you can at science and engineering fairs and at local, national, and international competitions. She’s worked hard on her projects and now knows a lot about reaching for the stars.
She also reaches for the keys—piano and organ keys—which she plays at church. She sings, writes poetry, dances, and cooks—in addition to stargazing.

I got to know of the Church in 1993 through a classmate while a law student at Rivers State University of Science and Technology (RSUST) Port Harcourt Nigeria. I visited with him and saw the book Jesus the Christ by Elder James E. Talmage. I read a portion of the book titled “Christ’s Tabernacle in the Flesh.” I was touched by the gospel insights in the book and asked where I could get one. He then told me about the Church that he joined in 1987.
I asked Brother Amadi more about the Church. I was desirous to find answers to questions I had as a young man. I eventually arrived at the nearest meetinghouse, the Port Harcourt 3rd Ward, located close to the university entrance which was also within walking distance from my hall of residence. I arrived late and sat at the Sunday School class, which was the first meeting of the day, as was the pattern then. A few moments later, I was invited to the Investigators class. The bishop later gave me a copy of the Ensign magazine, and specifically referred me to a talk by Elder Russell M. Nelson, attending the Parliament of the World’s Religions. I read the story and it changed my attitude about marriage and family as he brought with him Primary children who sang “I Am a Child of God” in the meeting.
In the investigators’ class, I was taught about the Prophet Joseph Smith and was asked if I had heard about him. The name seemed familiar, but I could not recollect where I had come across it. But now I know that it was the Spirit telling me about the Prophet Joseph Smith.
Bishop Kalu was a source of strength and inspiration and a great gospel teacher. I sincerely wanted to teach the restored gospel with a testimony like his. I eventually got baptized on December 26, 1993. The following Sunday, I was ordained a priest in the Aaronic Priesthood. And during sacrament meeting, I was asked to bless the sacrament.
The message of the restored gospel appealed to my heart, though born Anglican to humble parents and, as the tradition of the Anglican Church, was given infant baptism with my other siblings in 1973. The Book of Mormon changed all that as the copy I was given in the investigators class and with marked portions to read, I tried my best in reading it not with a desire to obtain a testimony but with my student legal mind. I was searching for faults because nothing compares to my Holy Bible. I had been doing critical Bible study before coming to the Church. I finished the Book of Mormon in no time and diverted my love for secular books to love of scriptures, particularly the Book of Mormon.
My bishop extended a call to me the Sunday after my ordination in the Aaronic Priesthood as a Sunday School teacher. I was also called as a seminary teacher, and I enrolled in an Institute of Religion class. While I taught the Old Testament in seminary, I studied the Book of Mormon in the institute class. This connection to the scriptures changed my life as that was the beginning of a lifelong love for the standard works of the Church and other writings that I have accumulated over the years a large library of Church literatures and scriptures. I even went on to teach institute classes for years even as a stake president.
While I was in Lagos, Nigeria, where I did my National Youth Service, I received the strong feeling that I had a mission to establish the Church in my hometown. I felt inspired and decided to fulfill the mission. I began with my wife, who was not a member at the time. With her unique testimony, she joined the Church and I baptized her like I did our five children.
We went to church in Port Harcourt from Omoku, our hometown. It was about two-hour drive. We did this every Sunday until sometime in 2001 when the Port Harcourt West Stake Presidency authorized me and family to stay back and worship in Omoku under the supervision of the Rumueme Ward. We reactivated some members of the Church who resided in our town and surrounding towns, two of whom were old schoolmates at the university. We started worshipping in my one-room apartment and later moved into a three-rooms flat in the city center where, on the 9th of January 2005, the Church was officially organized with me as the first branch president and my wife as first counsellor in the Relief Society. We had 36 members of our branch.
Missionaries who taught us the gospel of Restoration and eternal families inspired us tremendously and helped to inspire our infant children to love missionary work.
The gospel of Jesus Christ means everything to me and my family. The principles of the gospel are true and life-changing when we apply every word therein. As a branch president in a new place, it naturally imposed a new life on me. They must see the change in me to believe and follow. This is a religion with everlasting promise, hope, and blessings.
The Aba Nigeria Temple was dedicated on August 7, 2005, by President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008). Our family of five then—me, my wife, Justina, and our children (Joy, Daniel, and Gabriel)—were overjoyed. We got sealed as a family on September 22, 2005. Our sons John and Joseph were born in the covenant. My life is about family, Church, and community.

My sister and I had long hair. Brushing out the tangles every morning took too long, so we decided to have our hair cut. My mom had heard of girls who cut their hair and gave it to a group that makes hairpieces and wigs for children who have lost their hair because of illness. We had to cut off at least 10? (25 cm) of our hair, but, with Mom’s permission, we decided to do it. We were happy to help someone else by sharing a part of ourselves.
Amber and Emily Killpack, ages 8 and 6Firth, Idaho

Sister Shumway experienced a similar “nevertheless” moment before coming to BYU–Hawaii. Her life dream was to open a music studio in the Philippines, and so she had no desire to come to school in America. Church leaders, seminary teachers, and especially her parents strongly encouraged her to apply, but she still refused. You can imagine her surprise one day when she received a letter from the school saying “congratulations, you’ve been accepted!” It turns out her father had submitted the application without her knowing!

The next and more difficult stage of the process was obtaining a visa to come to the United States. Her parents traveled with her to the U.S. consulate in Cebu, and after a short interview, the staff member stamped her application “DENIED.” She looked at her parents and said, “See, I told you, I’m not supposed to go.” “Let’s try again at a different consulate,” they said. So they traveled to Manila and waited in a long line to see the embassy worker. The man looked over her application and picked up his stamp. “DENIED.” “See, I told you, this is a sign; I’m not supposed to go,” she insisted. In her mind, she was thinking, “Why do you want to send me away? Did I do something wrong?”

That night her father pulled her aside and said, “May, you have to want this. You have to pray about this and accept what the Lord wants for you.” Up to that point, she had not prayed about coming here because she didn’t want the answer to be yes. So she humbled herself, fasted, and prayed, “Father, I don’t want to go to BYU–Hawaii; nevertheless, if it’s your will that I go, I will go.” This time she went by herself to the Cebu consulate. As she was waiting in line, she saw the same guy who had rejected her application just a few days earlier in Manila. She prayed that she wouldn’t be sent to his window. Luckily, she wasn’t.

Her interview was shorter than the two previous ones, so she thought “another denial.” The worker reached for his stamp. “APPROVED”! She could hardly believe it. Her small act of faith and her willingness to follow the counsel of Church leaders and her parents had eternal consequences for her, me, and our entire family.

Easton’s first Church meeting in Germany had just ended. He thought it would be really different, but it was a lot like church where he used to live in the United States. Only here he got to wear headphones to listen to the talks being translated into English.
Mom and Dad had started talking to the family sitting behind them. It looked like they had a boy his age!
“These are the Finottos,” Mom told Easton. “GianMarco will be in your class at school.”
“Cool!” Easton smiled at GianMarco. His name sounded kind of like “John” and “Mark” squished together—with an “o” at the end. “So where are you from?”
GianMarco smiled back. “We’re from Italy. But we just moved here from China.”
“Wow!” said Easton. “I’ve never been to China.”
The next day Easton went to his new school. He was a little nervous. But then he saw GianMarco waving at him from across the classroom. At least he had one friend already. There were kids from all over the world in his class. Maybe he would like this school.
“Good morning!” The teacher smiled at everyone. “I’m Ms. Albano. To start off, can anyone tell me what identity means?”
A girl raised her hand. “It means who you are. What’s most important to you.”
“Exactly!” said Ms. Albano. “So let’s get to know each other. What are some things that are part of your identity? What things make you you?”
“I like video games!” said a girl in the front row. Ms. Albano smiled and wrote hobbies on the board. “What else?”
GianMarco raised his hand. “I’m from Italy.” Ms. Albano nodded and wrote down country.
Easton tried to think of something to say. “I go to church,” said a boy in the back.
“That’s a good one!” Easton thought. “I should’ve said that.”
Someone laughed. And then a lot of kids were laughing. Easton looked at GianMarco, confused. GianMarco looked confused too. Why would they laugh?
When he got home, Easton told Mom what happened.
Mom frowned. “Some people don’t understand why church is important. They think it’s silly.”
“Oh,” said Easton. He didn’t think church was silly at all.
A few weeks later, Ms. Albano asked the students to do a presentation with a parent about their family’s identity.
“What should our project be?” Mom asked as they set the table for dinner.
Easton thought about how the class had laughed. “I think we should do it about the Church,” Easton said.
Mom smiled. “That’s a great idea.”
“And could GianMarco and Sister Finotto do it with us?”
“Great idea. I’ll call them after dinner.”
The next day GianMarco and Sister Finotto came over. First they all talked about what they thought was most important about the Church. Mom wrote down all their ideas in a notebook. Then they got poster boards and found pictures of Jesus and prophets and temples to glue on.
Finally it was time for the presentation. Easton stood with GianMarco and their moms at the front of the class. He took a deep breath.
“We are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” he began. They each took turns explaining things about the Church. GianMarco talked about scriptures. Mom talked about prophets. Sister Finotto talked about family home evening. Easton talked about baptism. It was really cool!
Easton felt pretty good when they were done. Nobody laughed—the kids actually seemed to like it! He was glad he could share something so important with his class. He smiled. He knew his identity. He was a child of God!

I recall an experience I heard at a stake conference in Idaho. A farm family in the community had just contracted for the installation of an additional and much-needed room on their home. Three or four days later the father came to the building supply dealer and said, “Will it be all right with you if we cancel the contract? The bishop talked with my son John about a mission last night. We will need to set this additional room aside for a while.” The building supply dealer responded, “Your son will go on his mission, and he will find the needed room when he returns.” Here was the spirit of Christianity—a family sending a boy into the world to teach the gospel, and friends coming to help the family with their problems. What then, indeed, shall we do with Jesus who is called Christ?

A highlight of Boys Nation for me was meeting then president Dwight D. Eisenhower in the Rose Garden of the White House. He was one of the most impressive men I have ever met. His deportment and bearing, his piercing blue eyes, and his commanding manner of address made an indelible impression on me. Senator Wallace F. Bennett of Utah hosted the two of us who were representing Utah. He was gracious and kind and devoted considerable time to us. He introduced us to then senators John F. Kennedy and Lyndon B. Johnson, as well as then vice president Richard M. Nixon, all of whom would be future presidents. The topic of civil rights was significant at that time. It was at Boys Nation that I was first introduced to the religious-based effort led by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to achieve equality.

My admiration for President Eisenhower grew when a few months later, on September 23, 1957, he ordered the National Guard to support integration and protect the nine African American students who were attempting to integrate into Little Rock Central High School. The president’s action was in support of the Supreme Court’s decision of 1954, Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka, requiring integration of public schools.

Juliet Taylor from Naperville, Illinois, had her own set of priorities, and no teacher or coach was going to persuade her to do less.
Juliet led her high school basketball team to the state finals. Her coach wanted her to devote more time to basketball, but Juliet wouldn’t agree to give up music, early-morning seminary, or spending time with her family.
Juliet has won many piano competitions and serves as accompanist to her mother’s French horn students, often writing original accompaniments. When her music teacher wanted her to avoid the risk of hurting her fingers by giving up athletics, Juliet declined.
Early-morning seminary was a priority, as well as academic excellence. For Juliet they were all important, and she has succeeded in each, receiving recognition for her musical ability and a college scholarship for basketball.

I saw an example of this principle in nature when I was an undergraduate student working as a diver in Monterey Bay, California. One of my duties was to go with my dive Buddy Chris in search of specific invertebrate animals for the lab classes of the professor we worked for. Our favorite place to dive was a site called Deep Reef. This was a massive granite reef about 80-90 feet below the surface.

We went there because we knew that is where millions of invertebrates decided to settle.

I use the word decided because many marine invertebrate animals have a larval stage at the beginning of their life cycle that swims around in the water column for a time before settling, metamorphosing and then cementing themselves to the bottom where they will spend the rest of their life which could be short or long depending on where they choose to settle.

There is a large body of literature that deals with how these larvae make their choice. Some of what we know so far indicates that they use certain cues that originate from the surface of different structures indicating what elements or minerals are present, or what food availability exists, or even if other organisms of their own kind are nearby. Some larvae will actually flutter close to the bottom, bouncing up and down as they probe and try to get a good reading before making their decision. Many larvae make a good choice and yet for some reason, others make a poor choice and put their lives in danger.

I found that those larvae that chose to settle on small pieces of granite rock broke off and now unassociated with the massive reef or even on the fringes and outcroppings of the reef itself were easy prey for me. I would simply pick them up or knock them off the edge and put them in my bag and take them to their doom. But those animals that chose to settle firmly centered on that massive granite reef structure, closely associated with others of their own kind were impossible for me to collect effectively.

Many of you here today are in your larval stage and must soon make a choice as to where you will settle and metamorphose, which will affect the rest of your life. What cues are you using to help you in your decision? Will you settle in the center of the rock of Christ, firmly attached and supported by others who have made the same choice or will you choose some other option, on the fringes or completely unassociated?

Kristy Monson enjoyed being in the second grade. Every afternoon she rushed home to tell Mom about her day. On Monday, she bounced through the door, waving an invitation to the birthday party of her best friend, Debbie. On Tuesday, she brought home a new T-shirt she had received as a reward for reaching her goal in the school’s reading program. On Wednesday, she proudly modeled a construction-paper princess hat that she had made. On Thursday, she ran home as fast as she could and exclaimed that her class had traveled to the fish hatchery for a field trip.
Friday was different. A dark cloud hovered over Kristy as she trudged home from school and through the kitchen door. Her normal ear-to-ear smile was replaced by large tears that streamed down her round, freckled face.
Mom immediately set down the pan she was drying and wiped away Kristy’s tears.
“Oh, Mom,” Kristy sobbed, “today was the worst day of my life!”
After offering a few words of comfort, Mom led Kristy to the family room, where they sat together on the sofa. “Sweetheart, please tell me what has upset you.”
Choking back tears, Kristy explained, “Debbie was mad at me for playing hopscotch with Cindy during recess, so she told some of the other girls that I’m adopted and that I’m not really a Monson.”
Mom smiled and replied, “Of course you’re a Monson. The very first time I held you in my arms, I knew that you belonged with us. I’m sure that each member of our family will always remember the wonderful morning when we took you to the St. George Temple to have you sealed to us forever.”
Mom wiped a few tears from her own eyes as she continued, “Dad and I love you just as much as we do your brothers and sisters, and we feel that Heavenly Father helped us find you because He knew that we needed you in our family.”
“I do know that you and Dad love me,” Kristy said as her smile slowly returned. “And I’m very thankful to have such a wonderful family. Thanks, Mom! I always feel better after talking to you.” Giving her mother a hug and a kiss, Kristy skipped off to her bedroom to change her clothes so she could play.
Later that evening, Dad found Kristy sitting at her desk with a serious look on her face. “Mom told me what happened at school today. Do you want to talk about it?”
After collecting her thoughts, Kristy said, “I’m glad to be a member of this family. I love you and Mom very much, and I’m thankful for my brothers and sisters. I even forget that I’m adopted until someone reminds me. But, Dad”—tears welled up in Kristy’s eyes—“why am I the only one who was adopted?”
Dad smiled and hugged Kristy. “First let me remind you of how very thankful I am to have you as my daughter. I love you very much, Kristy.” His voice took on a reverent tone as he continued, “And you aren’t the only one who is adopted. In a very special way, your mother and I, and Jared, Josh, Kari, and Kelli have been adopted, too.”
A look of confusion spread across Kristy’s face.
Dad laughed softly. “Let me see—how can I explain what I’m talking about? I know—in family home evening we’ve been helping you to prepare for your upcoming baptism.”
“I know that baptism is so important that even Jesus was baptized,” Kristy put in with enthusiasm. “I can follow His example and be baptized by immersion. That means I’ll be completely covered by water.”
“That’s correct, honey. Do you remember the covenants you will make with your Heavenly Father?”
“I think so, Dad. I will promise to always remember Jesus and keep His commandments. And Heavenly Father will promise me that I can always have His Spirit to be with me.”
“You’ve done a great job remembering many of the things we’ve talked about, Kristy, and I know that you’ll continue to learn and understand even more. Do you remember whose name you will take upon you when you are baptized?”
“Yes,” Kristy quickly answered. “Jesus Christ’s.”
“That’s right. When you were adopted, you took upon yourself the Monson name. When you are baptized and take Jesus Christ’s name upon you—”
“Then I will be adopted into His family?” Kristy interrupted.
Dad smiled as he picked up Kristy’s scriptures. He opened the Book of Mormon and turned to Mosiah 5:7. “Maybe this scripture will help you to understand.”
Kristy read, “‘And now, because of the covenant which ye have made ye shall be called the children of Christ, his sons, and his daughters; for behold, this day he hath spiritually begotten you; for ye say that your hearts are changed through faith on his name; therefore, ye are born of him and have become his sons and his daughters.’”
“Wow!” Kristy exclaimed. “The more I learn about baptism, the more I see how special and important it is. I can’t wait until my baptism on Saturday!”
Saturday afternoon arrived, and the friends and family members of the children who were going to be baptized filled the chapel. Debbie sat down next to Kristy. Both girls looked beautiful in their white dresses.
“Kristy,” Debbie whispered. “I met with the bishop last night for my baptism interview. We talked about the importance of repentance and about baptism for the remission of sins. Before I’m baptized, I want to tell you how sorry I am for being mean to you the other day at school. Will you please forgive me so we can be best friends again?”
“Of course I forgive you,” Kristy quickly answered. “I’m glad that we’re best friends and that we’re both being baptized today.”
When the Bishop stood at the pulpit to conduct the meeting, Kristy was so excited that her stomach felt like it had butterflies fluttering around in it. She enjoyed the talk that Debbie’s brother gave about having faith in Jesus Christ, and the one her own sister, Kari, gave about the Holy Ghost. Kari shared personal experiences of how the Holy Ghost had helped her since her baptism. Kristy knew that after her baptism and confirmation, she could have the Holy Ghost as her constant companion if she always tried to obey the commandments and choose the right.
After Kristy and Debbie’s Primary class sang a song about baptism, the two girls quietly walked to the stairs by the font. When it was their turn, Kristy and her dad went down the stairs into the water. Then Kristy’s dad said the special prayer and gently lowered her under the water until she was completely immersed.
As Kristy came up out of the water, she felt warm and happy. Her bright, glowing smile matched the faces of her family and friends. This was a special day she would remember forever.
After the services, Kristy and Debbie talked together. “I feel really happy inside,” Debbie said. “I’m glad I chose to follow Jesus and be baptized. I really do feel clean and pure.”
Kristy nodded. “I feel exactly the same way.”
“And I’m glad you forgave me for saying those mean things about you,” Debbie said softly.
“That’s OK,” Kristy replied, putting her arm around her friend. “One of these days I want to tell you something special I’ve learned about being adopted.”

I love to dance, and since I live in a small town, my mom drives me to Weatherford, Texas, every Thursday to take jazz and tap lessons, and on Friday for ballet.
I have moved up to Level 2, which means I have a different teacher on Thursday. We’ve been working on a dance for a competition. We compete for a trophy.
We had learned half the dance, when the teacher put it to music. The music wasn’t the best choice, and one girl dropped out because her mom didn’t like it. Then we learned some more steps. One day at an extra practice, the teacher asked me, “Have you seen the costume yet?” When I saw the picture of it, I knew that I wasn’t going to wear it.
When my mom (who hadn’t seen the costume) and I were home, we talked about it. We decided that it was too immodest. She called the studio the next day to tell them that I would not be participating in the dance. I hope that my decision helped the other dancers choose the right.
Christy Abraham, age 9Azle, Texas

Cayo Sopi and Anthony Linat have been friends since childhood. Cayo, a member of the Church, always hoped Anthony would join.
Leslie Nilsson, photographer
Cayo:
I met Anthony a long time ago. We had just moved into the area. I went to this new school and started to make friends. Anthony was one of them. We were maybe six or seven years old. It’s funny to think about that, now that I am 26.
We were playing a game called Pog. It’s a game we play in France—I don’t know if it’s played elsewhere. While we were playing, Anthony tried to swipe one or two of my game pieces. Suddenly, we started to fight. Our teacher had to pull us apart. After that, I think we appreciated each other more. We started doing things together—playing video games, skateboarding, and cycling. Little by little, we began to spend more and more time together.
My mother always wanted our family to pray. It was part of our practice at home. Same thing with reading scriptures too. These things were ingrained in us. One night I slept over at Anthony’s place. As I prayed before bed, Anthony saw me and asked what I was doing. I don’t remember what I said exactly; I just remember we were in his room and we talked about prayer.
Anthony came a few times to my house, and he saw us read the scriptures, ask a blessing before eating, and pray as a family. He saw us sing hymns together too. I asked him once or twice to come to church. I must have seen from his reaction that he wasn’t too excited about the idea of coming to church. I told myself, “Well that’s it, I guess, and it’s too bad, but we’ll just continue to be buddies.”
Anthony:
At first I was a little distant about the Church. I didn’t understand much, and I was a bit afraid to speak with Cayo about how his family gathered together for prayer. So in the beginning I didn’t respond to invitations. But little by little, I felt good. I felt in my heart that Cayo’s family was different from other families.
Cayo:
Eventually we both moved on to other things. We lost track of each other several times over the years, but we would always bump into each other again. When we were teenagers, we became close friends again.
Anthony:
I could see that Cayo was different from my other friends. We all do dumb things as we’re growing up, but Cayo helped me choose a good path.
Cayo:
Anthony started to come to church with my family. Then things evolved naturally, the missionaries spent a lot of time with us, and Anthony became quite familiar with the Church. He knew what prayer was, he knew the hymns, he knew all that—he was just not a member.
Anthony:
From age 8 to age 18, I reflected a lot about getting baptized. But it took me a long time because I had a lot of things I needed to change in my life, even though I tried to live good principles.
At the age of 18, I met the missionaries in Cayo’s home. The missionaries taught me the lessons to prepare me for baptism. They helped me, and their message touched my heart. During this time, my mother and my little sister were introduced to the missionaries. They were baptized a few months before I was. I was baptized on March 10, 2007.
Cayo:
It took the time that it took, more than 10 years, but finally he was baptized.
It’s interesting to see how the Lord does things. After that, I went on a mission in France and we wrote to each other. Now we’re going to be separated because Anthony just became a gendarme [policeman], and he will leave to work for two to five years in Guyana, but I’m sure we’re going to stay in touch.
Anthony:
Since I joined the Church, I do what is required to stay on the strait path and to share the gospel with those around me. It’s something that’s very simple, but the gospel can be difficult for others to accept and to live. As members of the Church, we are truly different from others.
Other members of my family had trouble seeing why my mother, my sister, and I get ready for church every Sunday. I get dressed in my suit and leave at 8:30 to be to church by 9:00, and I often stay until 3:00 in the afternoon because of my calling. I enjoy visiting with other members and finding out what’s going on in their lives. I like being able to participate with the members; it’s exceptional. It’s important to have people around us who are members, to have unity, and to feel like we’re strengthening each other.
Cayo:
I believe the Lord does everything He can so we can truly, honestly, and deeply change. Becoming a Latter-day Saint and a disciple of Christ is not just a question of deciding to adopt certain attitudes; it is to witness a profound change in ourselves. I saw that change in Anthony.
Anthony:
Knowing I have a Heavenly Father comforts me. It also comforts me to know that He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to die for us—for me.
But, in any case, I know it’s true. I also know the scriptures are true. The Book of Mormon is true. I’m convinced of it. The Church is true. We have a true prophet, Thomas S. Monson. The Twelve Apostles are truly called of God.
That’s something I didn’t understand before, and I think that, even today, I don’t understand it completely. It’s very powerful and it’s unique as an emotion.
Cayo Sopi (left) and Anthony Linat (right) walk through their neighborhood in the suburbs of Paris, France. They have been friends since childhood.
“As we got to be closer friends, I could see that Cayo was different from my other friends,” Anthony remembers. Over time, Cayo’s example helped Anthony to become more interested in the restored gospel.
Cayo and Anthony plan on staying in touch after Anthony moves to Guyana.
“Since I joined the Church,” Anthony says, “I do what is required to stay on the strait path and to share the gospel with those around me.” Sharing the gospel is “something that’s very simple,” he says.
Cayo remains grateful for the opportunity he had to share the gospel with his friend. “I believe the Lord does everything He can so we can truly, honestly, and deeply change,” Cayo says. “I saw that change in Anthony.”
Anthony says finding the gospel has been a blessing in his life. “Knowing I have a Heavenly Father comforts me,” he says. “It also comforts me to know that He sent His Son, Jesus Christ.”
“It’s interesting to see how the Lord does things,” Cayo says. It took more than 10 years for Anthony to be baptized, but in that time, Anthony gained a strong testimony.

Some time before I was called as a General Authority, I faced a personal economic challenge that persisted for several years. It ebbed and flowed in seriousness and urgency, but it never went away. At times this challenge threatened the welfare of my family, and I thought we might be facing financial ruin. I prayed for some miraculous intervention to deliver us. Although I offered that prayer many times with great sincerity and earnest desire, the answer in the end was no. Finally, I learned to pray as the Savior did: “Nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42). I sought the Lord’s help with each tiny step along the way to a final resolution.
There were times when I had exhausted all my resources, when I had nowhere and no one to turn to for help to meet the exigency before me. With no other recourse, more than once I fell down before my Heavenly Father, begging in tears for His help. And He did help. Sometimes it was nothing more than a sense of peace, a feeling of assurance that things would work out. I might not see how or what the path would be, but He gave me to know that, directly or indirectly, He would open a way. Circumstances might change, a new and helpful idea might come to mind, some unanticipated income or other resource might appear at just the right time. Somehow there was a resolution.
Though I suffered then, I am grateful now that there was not a quick solution to my problem. The fact that I was forced to turn to God for help almost daily over an extended period of years taught me how to truly pray and get answers to prayer and taught me in a practical way to have faith in God. I came to know my Savior and my Heavenly Father in a way and to a degree that might not have happened otherwise or that might have taken me much longer. I learned that daily bread is a precious commodity. I learned that manna today could be as real as the physical manna of biblical history. I learned to trust in the Lord with all my heart. I learned to walk with Him day by day.

I’ll never forget an experience I had at a mission conference in Australia a few years ago. One young man had such a special glow upon his face that my wife said to me, “I’ve never seen anyone sparkle with the truth as he does.”

When the meeting finished, before I could even leave the stand, this young man came up to me and said, “Elder Asay, may I speak with you?” I said to the young man, “Go down to the bishop’s office and wait; I’ll be there shortly.” He turned and walked down the aisle.

When I arrived at the office, he looked at me and said, “Elder Asay, you have forgotten me, haven’t you?” That made me feel terrible. I said, “Yes, I guess I have; please forgive me.”

Then he said, “Several years ago, I came to your office with my bishop and stake president. I came because I had done foolish things in high school; I had made myself unworthy of my priesthood, and I required some special cleanup and a special clearance before I could serve. In fact, you may recall that when I gave you a listing of my transgressions, you said, ‘I will never allow you to serve.’”

Then I remembered. He was the only one I had ever said those words to. But he cried, and his bishop cried, and his stake president cried, and they pleaded and they pleaded; and finally I weakened. I said, “Yes, you may, on two conditions: first, that you go and live every commandment strictly; you will cut no corners; and second, that you will seek to become the best missionary in your assigned mission.”

Well, after he had recalled all of that to my memory, he said, “Elder Asay, it thrilled me to know that you were coming. You see, next week I go home, and I just wanted to tell you that for two years now I haven’t stretched or bent or broken a single rule or commandment.” Then he added, “I may not be the best missionary in this mission, but I’m awfully close.”

I loved that. I embraced him and thanked him, and then after a tear or two, he turned to leave. As he stood there, he looked at me again and said, “Elder Asay, for the first time in many, many years I feel perfectly clean morally.” “You are,” I said. “You have been sanctified by your service. Now, please go home and stay clean.”

He has since been married in the temple; he is now a father, and is completing a professional degree.

When my husband, David, and I found out we couldn’t have children, I wept. Then, in 2016, my doctor called me back to her office after a routine medical checkup and mammogram. After more testing, what she at first thought was a small problem had become a big one: cancer.
That was a shock, and we had some bad days. Before we knew how things would turn out, I told Heavenly Father, “If this is the end for me, please take care of David.”
I was able to hold on emotionally during the day, but when nighttime came and all was quiet, the tears would come. But that was also when I would sense through the Holy Ghost that everything was going to be all right—not necessarily because I was going to live but because Heavenly Father was there. So, during my treatment, we went forward one step at a time.
Certain hymns and scriptures became more meaningful. Doctrine and Covenants 122:8 really struck me: “The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater that he?”
No, I realized, I am not greater than He. If going through infertility and cancer enabled me to better appreciate the Savior and His atoning sacrifice, then I was willing.
We kept our eye on the Lord so we could see our blessings, including an amazing support system. My Relief Society president was wonderful. People from the school where I taught did a cancer walk for me. A colleague who wanted me to know she cared gave me a pink pen. During moments like that, you say, “You were my angel today. You were my evidence that God knows I needed a hug or a pink pen.”
People watch us as members of the Church. They want to know why we can go through tough things and still smile.
“How are you not a mess?” people often asked us. We explained that the peace we felt came from our faith and beliefs, our love for Heavenly Father, and our trust in His will for us. Sharing our faith strengthened our faith.
Peace didn’t come the second I was diagnosed, but it came. The peace was the miracle.

It was a rainy day, and everyone was gathered at Grandma’s house. Dad and Uncle Carl were putting new paneling in Grandma’s game room while Mom, Aunt Shirley, and Grandma were busy in the kitchen.
When Aunt Shirley went to set the dining room table, she said, “Stevie, dinner won’t be ready for a while. Why don’t you play somewhere else?”
Carly went to the table and knelt to look under the jiggling, low-hanging tablecloth at her cousin. “What are you doing?” she asked.
Stevie shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Come up to the attic with me.”
Stevie grinned. As they passed the den, Carly paused. “Becka, do you want to go up to the attic with us?” she asked.
Her cousin looked up from a book that she was reading and wrinkled her nose. “Yuck!” she replied. “Too many spiders!”
“I’m not afraid of spiders,” Stevie announced as he and Carly climbed the stairs to the second floor.
“Neither am I,” Carly said. They walked side by side along the carpeted hallway. “Have you ever been in Grandma’s attic?” she asked as they neared the closed attic door.
“Maybe a long time ago,” Stevie replied. “Becka says it’s spooky.”
Carly shrugged. “It’s not spooky, just dusty.” She opened the door at the bottom of the stairs and raced up them eagerly. When she reached the top, she looked around and motioned to Stevie. “Come on,” she called happily. “You can see everything from up here.”
She went to the dormer and looked out. Below, the yard and rolling hills were washed with a fine gray mist from the rain. When Stevie reached her, she moved to make room for him to rest his elbows on the windowsill.
“See? I’m not afraid of spiders,” he said proudly.
Carly nodded. “I didn’t think you were.”
“If the weather was nicer, there’d be something to do,” he sighed.
“There’s always stuff to do,” Carly said. She walked beneath the slanted ceiling toward Grandpa’s old rolltop desk and slid back the cover.
“That’s a funny-looking book,” Stevie said, pointing at a thick volume inside the desk.
“That’s the kind of book that Grandpa read.”
“How could he read when he was blind?” Stevie asked curiously.
Carly chuckled. “He read the words with his fingers. Here, give me your hand.” She opened the book and moved his fingers slowly across the page. “Feel the dots?” she asked. “It’s called Braille writing.”
Stevie frowned. “I wouldn’t want to read a book that way.”
“You would if you couldn’t see.” Carly put the book back inside the desk. “Grandpa made this desk, too,” she announced with a smile.
Stevie looked at her with wide eyes. “Oh, wow! Even though he couldn’t see?” He ran his hand over the finely finished wood. “It’s as smooth as glass!”
Carly nodded. “He said that he knew what the desk looked like, even though he couldn’t see it with his eyes. He saw lots of things people who are sighted never even notice.”
“How’d he do that?”
Carly smiled. “Shut your eyes and tell me what you know without looking.”
Stevie closed his eyelids tightly. “It’s dark,” he said with a giggle.
“That isn’t what I meant,” she said. “I’ll do it.” She closed her eyes and stood quietly. “You have to listen and feel and stuff,” she explained. “I hear the rain falling and trickling through the downspout. It almost sounds like quiet music. I smell a roast cooking and musty books … and dust. The air up here feels warm against my skin, and I can tell that the floor is bare. You moved behind me,” she added as Stevie tiptoed around her. “Now you’re picking something up.”
Stevie took her hand. “Here,” he said as he put something in it. “Tell me what this is.”
Carly closed her fingers loosely around the material. “It’s an old hunting coat,” she said as she followed the lines with her fingers. “It’s trimmed with leather and it’s dusty. There’s a jagged tear here. Maybe it was caught on a thorn. Now someone’s coming up the stairs.”
Stevie moved closer to her and grabbed her hand.
“I feel the floorboards moving slightly, and a draft just blew across my ankles.” Carly opened her eyes and turned toward the stairs.
“It’s only Becka,” Stevie said with relief.
“I knew that you’d be pretending that you were blind again!” Becka said with a scowl.
“Carly was showing me how Grandpa saw things!” Stevie explained excitedly.
“Grandpa didn’t see things!” Becka insisted. “He remembered them from the time that he could see; that’s all!”
Carly frowned. “He saw things, Becka!”
Becka tossed her head and turned back toward the stairs. “It’s too musty up here for me!” she replied with a shiver of disgust. “You’d better come with me, Stevie—before she has you acting weird too!”
“Did Mom want me to come down?” he asked.
His sister didn’t answer.
“I’ll stay up here with Carly, then,” he said.
Becka stomped down the stairs and slammed the door behind her. Carly sighed and laid the hunting coat on top of a dust-covered trunk.
“Tell me more about Grandpa,” Stevie pleaded.
“Too bad you didn’t live around here when he was alive, Stevie. He was really nice, like Grandma. He could tell by the way the birds sang if it was going to rain or if it was going to be a nice day. And by the smell in the air, he could tell when spring was coming or if there would be a frost. He said that he could tell what kind of mood I was in just by the way I hugged him or the way I walked.”
“How could he, Carly?”
“Grandpa said that some people look and don’t see; they touch but don’t feel; they listen but don’t hear. He said that God gives us more abilities than we ever think about until we lose one of them—like he lost his eyesight. Then we start to use the others just as he started to see by using his senses of touch, taste, smell, and hearing. Grandpa said that most of all we could learn to see with our hearts.”
Stevie nodded thoughtfully. “Could I learn to see with my heart, too?” he asked.
“Sure,” Carly replied. “All you have to do is start using it that way. The more you learn to see with your heart, the better you’ll become at it.”
“Becka doesn’t have a heart!”
Carly chuckled. “Sure she does, and some day she’ll learn to see with it more too.”
“Thanks for asking me to come up here with you,” Stevie told her. “It was boring under the table.”
Carly grinned. “I’m glad that you did.” Grandma’s tinkling bell sounded from far away in the dining room. “We’d better go down now,” Carly said.
At the top of the stairs, Stevie turned. “I don’t care what Becka says—I know that Grandpa really could see.”