Gospel Story Finder

When I was a young father, our little son, who was five, came home from school one day and asked his mother, “What kind of work does Daddy do?” He then explained that his new classmates started debating about their fathers’ jobs. One said that his father was the chief of the city police, while another proudly declared that his father was the chief of a big company.

So when asked about his father, my son simply said, “My father works in an office on a computer.” Then, noticing that his answer did not impress his new little friends much, he added, “And by the way, my father is the chief of the universe.”

I guess that was the end of the conversation.

I told my wife, “It’s time to teach him some more details of the plan of salvation and who is really in charge.”

But as we taught our children the plan of salvation, their love for Heavenly Father and for the Savior grew as they learned that it is a plan of love. The gospel of Jesus Christ is centered on the love of the Father and the Savior for us and our love for Them and for one another.

For a more specific example of this realization, not too long ago, I was reading books that my friends (many of whom are members of the Church) were reading.
Often, I would be enjoying the stories, only to be unexpectedly jarred by profanity or sexual content.
For a while, I convinced myself this wasn’t a big deal. They were just books, right? Everyone from the millions of readers on social media to my friends seemed to be reading them with no complaints.
So how could I not agree?
I enjoyed these books and wanted to be part of conversations about them! Deep down, though, they were affecting me and my outlook on life and relationships. But I was afraid to stop reading them because I didn’t want to be seen as prudish or immature.
The Lord offers this warning: “The weak things of the world shall come forth and break down the mighty and strong ones, that man should not counsel his fellow man, neither trust in the arm of flesh” (Doctrine and Covenants 1:19).
This helped me realize I needed to be honest with myself.
I was justifying my behavior by following everyone else’s choices. I was fearing their judgment and ignoring the Spirit’s red flags instead of heeding His warnings.
A few years ago, President Nelson invited us to fast from social media for 10 days. While studying his challenge recently, I noticed that in addition to social media, he included “any other media that bring negative and impure thoughts to your mind.”
So I started taking note of what content I am sensitive to. I’ve tried to establish better habits with the media I consume. Media use isn’t inherently bad, but it’s always important to make sure we pay attention to the Spirit when consuming it.
If you are having trouble knowing where to make changes in your media habits, try asking yourself questions like these:
Are you feeling uplifted and inspired? Or numb and lonely?
Have you felt any discomfort that might be prompting you to step away from certain content?
Are you feeling a need to “fit in” with others by watching or reading certain media?
Are you being honest with yourself?
Elder Ulisses Soares of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles recently taught, “It takes a courageous and a willing heart to pause and pursue an honest and meek introspection to acknowledge the presence of weaknesses of the flesh in our life that may impede our ability to submit ourselves to God, and ultimately decide to adopt His way rather than our own.”
And he’s right. It can be hard to acknowledge our weaknesses and make changes that align with God instead of the world. I still have a lot of work to do when it comes to my media choices (and all my choices), but I’m striving to do better each day.
We have the beautiful promise of having the Spirit as our constant companion as we renew our covenants through the sacrament each week and through the gift of repentance. As we do this—and are truly honest with ourselves—we can “resensitize” our hearts to His guiding influence.
I know that we can always try again when we don’t always make choices that align with the Lord’s commandments. But by focusing on Jesus Christ, we can increase the Spirit’s influence in our lives and limit the world’s.

Melissa ran her fingernails over the frosted bus window, making designs. It was so cold outside that the window soon frosted over again.
Camille poked Melissa. “Look what Kathy is wearing today,” she whispered, giggling.
Melissa’s eyes followed Camille’s pointing finger. Kathy sat by herself, her tangled hair sticking out of an old wool hat. Her coat was too short in the sleeves. Her canvas shoes had holes in the toes, and she wasn’t wearing socks. Kathy’s eyes were downcast.
“We shouldn’t be mean,” Melissa said. “I think her family must be really poor.”
“You don’t have to be rich to brush your hair,” Camille said.
“Shh!” Melissa warned.
When the bus stopped, Melissa watched Kathy get off the bus and walk with her little brother toward a small house. No Christmas decorations were visible. No lights. No tree. When Melissa got home, Kathy’s sad face wouldn’t leave her mind. It didn’t seem fair that some people had so much and others so little.
After dinner, Melissa went to their Christmas tree and picked up each of her presents—one from Grandma, one from her best friend, and one from her little brother.
Melissa took her presents over to the table where her parents were talking. “I want to give these away,” she blurted out, before she could change her mind.
Mom and Dad looked surprised. “Why?” Dad asked.
Melissa told them about Kathy.
“I know her family,” Dad said. “Their father died a few years ago, and there are four children in the family.”
“May I give her my presents?” Melissa asked.
“We can do even better than that,” Dad said.
Mom smiled and nodded. “We certainly can.”
Melissa’s family spent the next two days in a frenzy. They cut and decorated another tree, baked more Christmas goodies, and bought food for another Christmas dinner. They gathered clothes for the children—socks, shoes, hats, coats, gloves, shirts, pants, and dresses.
Then Melissa and her brothers opened their presents and rewrapped the ones they wanted to give away. Melissa’s present from her brother was a doll she had been wanting since September. She thought about giving Kathy one of her other presents instead. Then, thinking how happy it would make Kathy, she wrapped the doll in the prettiest paper she could find and put a big red bow on top.
On Christmas Eve, the family loaded all of the presents into the van. Dad drove slowly past Kathy’s house and stopped the van behind a big bush.
Melissa and her older brother, Trent, loaded their arms with presents and followed Dad up the walk. Melissa heard the snow crunching loudly under her boots.
“Please don’t hear us,” she thought.
When they reached the front step, Dad set down the tree in its stand and a big box filled with food. Melissa and Trent hurried to set down their armloads too.
Dad rang the bell and whispered, “Run!”
Everyone ran to hide behind the bush. Melissa tried to quiet her loud breathing as she watched to see what would happen.
When Kathy’s little brother opened the door, he looked around, his eyes huge. Then he yelled, “Mom, Kathy, look! It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas!”
Then Kathy came to the door, looking astonished and happy. Melissa had never seen her smile like that before.
On the way home, Melissa felt like she was going to explode with joy. “This is the best Christmas ever!” she said.

Early in our marriage my wife, Mary, and I decided that to the extent possible we would choose activities that we could attend together. We also wanted to be prudent with our budget. Mary loves music and was undoubtedly concerned that I might overemphasize sporting events, so she negotiated that for all paid events, there would be two musicals, operas, or cultural activities for each paid ball game.
Initially I was resistant to the opera component, but over time I changed my view. I particularly came to enjoy the operas by Giuseppe Verdi.1 This week will be the 200th anniversary of his birth.

In the recent Australian Open—one of the grand-slam professional tennis tour championships—Jiri Novak from the Czech Republic was playing a critical game in a quarterfinal match. On game point his opponent hit a ball that the linesman called long. His opponent asked the umpire to overrule the linesman. The ball had landed on the side of the court, which allowed the umpire to get a good look at the ball, but the umpire refused to overrule the linesman. Knowing the call would give his opponent the game, Novak told the umpire the ball was in, and his opponent was awarded the point. The capacity crowd vigorously applauded his honor call.

There are several significant points in this incident. Novak was a professional athlete, and there was a lot of money weighing on the outcome of this match, which he lost. It is not common for this type of honor call to happen in major tennis competitions. The crowd’s response is indicative of respect for the honesty exhibited in this situation. People believe in the virtue of honesty. However, it takes courage and character to live these virtues in our world.

I met Natalie on the first day of sixth grade. I noticed that she wouldn’t hang out on Sundays and that she carried her scriptures around at school. One day I was at a carnival with Natalie, and I said, “I want to join your Church.” I’m not sure what Natalie was thinking at the time, because it came out of nowhere. But from that point on she began sharing more of her faith with me.
Later that year, I went with Natalie to a youth conference. One of the last activities at the youth conference was a testimony meeting. Natalie shared a special testimony that motivated me to want to learn more.
As I studied the gospel, I prayed to Heavenly Father to gain a testimony. Soon, I knew what I had been learning was true. That summer, I became a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I was 14 when I got baptized, but I didn’t really like going to Church activities because I didn’t have any friends. It was hard coming into a totally new experience feeling like I didn’t know anyone. On top of that, I still had school and other things to worry about.
But as I got older, I felt a desire to strengthen my testimony of the Savior, so I started attending seminary. It was just a nice experience at first. But then I made friends with some of my classmates, and they helped me become more active in the Church. I even set a goal to graduate from seminary.
I could tell that my heart was being molded each day as I went to class and learned about the Savior. I read the scriptures more and came to rely on them, especially when I faced challenges.
Now I’ve graduated from seminary and made a new goal to serve a mission so I can help others learn about Christ. I know the Lord helps us when we act on our faith—even if it starts out as just a little seed.
Romino P., 20, Philippines

The peace that you want takes time. It won’t happen overnight. My mother died about five years ago of cancer. It isn’t easy to lose someone we love. I only wish that I had communicated with my dad and my brothers and sisters and told them how I felt. Instead I tried to hide my feelings. Because of my stubbornness, it only got worse when my dad remarried and we moved to a new town. I was heartbroken because all my memories of my mom weren’t around anymore. I blamed my Heavenly Father for doing this to me and making my life miserable.
I now feel peace within because I decided to let go of all my past hurts and look toward the future. Yes, I still have my days when I wonder why, but Heavenly Father has the whole eternal perspective of life, and we only have a narrow view.
I hope that you will keep communications with your family open. Let them know how you’re feeling.
Please stay close to your Heavenly Father. He loves all of us, and he will comfort you when you’re really down. I can testify to that.
Mary Beth Bentley, 18Danville, California

I want to share and experience Sister Richards and I had in Hong Kong and then relate it, hopefully, to you great young people today. We had an assignment to go to Bangkok, Thailand, and we were to leave Hong Kong around 4:00 in the afternoon. I don’t know if any of you have ever flown in or out of the new Hong Kong airport, but it’s been rated number one in the world the last several years. It’s just a marvelous place. There are two main runways that are separated by large grass strips. We were in a large aircraft with over 300 passengers aboard, and were actually in the process of taking off, and the plane was accelerating. I always love that feeling. All of a sudden the pilot just slammed on the brakes of this huge aircraft and we came to a screeching halt. Almost instantly you could begin to smell the smoke from those mighty brakes. We were sitting on the right side of the aircraft and as I looked out the window, all of a sudden I realized there were nine fire trucks heading our way. Now that gets your attention, young people. And they weren’t going around the suggested route, they were coming down the grass between the runways, headed directly for us. In fact, one came up right under the wing and went to the front of the aircraft. And then we noticed that four security trucks were also headed our direction. The pilot came in over the intercom and said “Ladies and gentlemen, don’t be alarmed.” That got our attention, seeing all this activity. And he said, “We have experienced a minor malfunction and we’ll see if they can correct it on the runway. If not, we’ll have to return to the terminal.” So, after a few minutes of smelling the smoke and watching these fire trucks and all the security around us, he finally came back and said, “We will have to return to the terminal and change aircrafts and then we’ll proceed on our way.”

While we were waiting to taxi back the airport, one of the crew, came out and began to apologize to us. We were sitting near the front of the aircraft and had we not had our seat belts on we would have ended up ten rows in front. I mean he stopped that huge aircraft that quickly. He began to apologize saying “We recognized that in the process of taking off, one of the gauges was indicating a malfunction, and we had to make a split second decision whether to continue or to abort the take off.” And then he said that “one of the gauges was telling us that the amount of fuel going into one of the engines far exceeded what was normal, and so we made the decision to abort the take off.” We were sitting right up front, and I couldn’t help but say to him, “You don’t need to apologize to me. I’d rather be on the ground with this problem that at 30-40, 000 feet in the air.”

Young people, why do I tell you that story? Sister Richards and I were grateful at that moment that those two pilots had been so well trained. If you ever look in one of the cockpits of one of those large aircraft, there are just, to me, thousands of gauges. They were trained so well, that when they recognized the malfunction, they knew exactly what to do, and even though we were in the middle of a takeoff, they hit those brakes, and we came to a screeching halt. Later we were able to get on another aircraft and finish our journey to Thailand. Each of us and each of you must know what the gauges are in the Lord’s kingdom, and you must understand them to some degree and you must monitor them regularly so that as you need to make a course correction or slam on the brakes, or even just do a fine tune, you know how and what’s required and what the Lord expects.

Then one day, about a year later, one of Olivio’s American teammates said, “Hey—you’re Mormon. Don’t Mormons go on missions? Are you going to quit the team and go too?”
That got Olivio thinking. “The things I learned made sense to me, and I said, ‘Well, if these things come from God, I have to explain them to other people.’”
But leaving basketball—that would be tough. Olivio had just made the Portuguese national team, and they had offered him a very lucrative contract—lots of money, a car, and a luxurious apartment.
“It was a difficult decision to leave basketball, so I decided to get my patriarchal blessing. There it said that I was going to serve the Lord, so I decided to do it. God prepared me to come here and find the gospel by giving me these talents to play basketball. I don’t have a problem leaving it to serve him. I think I can help many people.”
And now, Elder Olivio Gomes Manuel, who left northern Portugal almost two years ago to serve in southern Portugal, is helping many people. He’s well known throughout the mission for his good nature and easy smile, his hard work, and his gentle rapport with the people he towers over.
That isn’t the kind of fame that makes you a star on national television—it’s more the kind of fame that makes you a star in the eternities. And while he won’t make millions from gigantic contracts and endorsements, he knows that his eternal reward will be far greater.

One wintry day when I was eleven, Dad took me into the foothills between Blackfoot and Idaho Falls, Idaho, to buy a riding horse. We chose a coal-black yearling that fought and reared and was really wild. I was told that when he was roped by the cowboys, it was the first time he had ever been touched by human hands. We named him Champ.
I learned that Champ had royal blood in his veins. His grandfather was Man o’ War, the most famous thoroughbred racehorse of all time. Dad and I trained him patiently, and Champ and I became the best of friends and partners. He was swift and strong, and no local horse ever came close to winning a race with him. As I saw the qualities he had inherited from his famous grandfather, it really made me think about my own potential as a child of God.
In 1948 we moved from Idaho to Moses Lake, Washington. There was nothing beyond our farm for several miles in some directions. Range cattle ruled over the territory they had grazed on for generations. Now we were putting up fences around part of their range and growing lush and tempting alfalfa, potatoes, and corn. Our fences were good, but not always good enough to keep out the white-faced red Herefords.
Champ and I had the job of chasing away the cattle that invaded our fields. Together we learned some tricks of the cowboy’s trade, such as singling out one animal and chasing it from the herd. We developed an extraordinary oneness. Sometimes I would ride without saddle or bridle. But even without harnessing, we were in complete control. Just a touch on his neck would turn him. A shift in my posture would slow him down or speed him up. He was totally obedient, completely responsive.
One Sunday after sacrament meeting, I went out to feed Champ and found him gone. Searching for a black horse at night was not easy, and morning brought no comfort. There was no hungry, thirsty Champ at the corral gate. We searched all over the farm and far beyond with no success.
Heartsick, I asked my cousin Kay Lybbert to lend me a horse and go with me into the wastelands beyond our farm in search of Champ. I had caught glimpses of wild horses in this country, scattered bands of mares and colts led by dominant stallions.
We rode for hours into rocky and treacherous lands. We were tired, hungry, and discouraged and were talking of turning back when we saw a shape on the horizon. We pushed on and finally saw a herd of about fifteen wild horses. They were startled. Their nostrils were wide, pumping cool air into deep lungs. Heads high, tails flying, muscles tensed, they burst away in wild flight. To our amazement and joy, the magnificent Champ was before them all, leading the herd, as wild as the first day I saw him.
I have often thought about that vivid picture. Champ was rightfully mine. We had been the best of companions. He had been disciplined and responsive. But now he was undisciplined, out of control, and determined to stay that way. Though he was the group’s leader, he was really under the control of the wild horses he had chosen to run with.
We were off on a race across wild and rugged lands where a tired horse burdened with a rider could stumble and fall. At stake was Champ’s future.
I doubted our ability to stick with the wild horses, because we had been traveling half a day and they were fresh. But somehow we turned them eastward and stayed close. In time we slid over a steep hill down into Mae Valley within sight of our own fences. The herd soon thundered past our place, the steam from their bodies rising above them in a cloud. With the help of neighbors, we were finally able to channel Champ into our corral, safely behind secure barriers.
Dad was the first to get to Champ. He called him by name and approached gently, moving without disturbing gestures or sounds, easing up to him and putting his arms around the horse’s quivering neck. We were all relieved that this prized animal was back where he belonged once again and where he was loved, protected, and cared for.

If adversity strikes, don’t succumb to the temptation to counsel the Lord. Pray for strength to get you through. President Harold B. Lee used to say: “Never put a question mark where the Lord has put a period.”

Wise counsel is also helpful. Dear Elder Neal A. Maxwell called at our home the evening that our son was killed and gave us some very comforting counsel that really made a difference. He said: “I know this is very hard for you, but try to think of it this way. You now have a son where we all hope to be someday.”

While serving as a mission president in France, I would travel with Sister Andersen once a month to the airport to pick up the arriving missionaries. On one occasion as we stood waiting outside of the baggage claim area, we met a very interesting Frenchman who was also waiting. The difference was that while we were waiting for missionaries, he was waiting for his dog.
He spoke fondly of his large, black Labrador retriever, with great affection and respect, almost as we would speak of one of our children. I could sense that he treated the animal with love and kindness. The man had been transferred to the city of Bordeaux and until he could get settled in the right apartment he had left his dog in a kennel in his previous city. Now things had been properly arranged, and the dog was arriving on the same plane as our missionaries.
In my imagination I thought of what had transpired—from the point of view of the dog. I imagined that he had been treated like a king in his master’s home. He may have been allowed to jump on the sofas and sleep on the foot of his master’s bed. Maybe he even had his own shelf in the refrigerator, stocked with his own special food.
Then one day, without any explanation, he was suddenly behind bars, in a kennel with a cement floor and steel bars, his food pushed underneath the door to his pen. If a dog could connect the events together, this dog would have wondered: “What happened? Why am I here? What did I do?” He did not realize that his master had a plan for him, that they would soon be reunited, and that in the meantime, his master was paying for his kennel and his food, ensuring that he would be kept in a warm place out of the cold. All that time his master was preparing a place for him at an even finer house in Bordeaux.
Suddenly, looking through the glass into the baggage area, we could see workers rolling out a large crate. We could hear the barking of the dog inside. I could tell he was frightened and anxious. Again, in my mind I could imagine two men arriving at the kennel one day, taking the dog, and putting him in the crate. Soon the Labrador found himself in the belly of an airplane. Again he must have wondered what was happening. I could imagine his fear.
Now, at last, the crate was in front of us. Workers opened the door, and out came the beautiful Labrador. First he was nervous. His head was up, he was alert, and he was ready to defend himself.
Then suddenly the eyes of the black Labrador met the eyes of his master. Immediately, the dog’s behavior changed. His barking stopped and his tail started wagging. He jumped into the arms of his master and they embraced, a Frenchman and his dog reunited.

Some years ago a woman complained to me about her unresponsive husband. I asked her to describe some of his behavior. She indicated that in most cases he was a very negative person. He would come home in the evening and complain about the untidy home. Occasionally dinner was not ready on time, which elicited criticism. She was neither as attractive nor as intellectually stimulating as her husband desired. He was negative with the children as well, offering very critical comments.
I then asked the wife to describe her behavior toward her husband. She admitted that most of the things she did were designed to hurt him. In fact, quite often she planned a meal late just to make him angry. Likewise, the more he urged her to take better care of herself, the less desire she had to make herself more attractive. Their home was frequently in disarray simply because she had no motivation to clean it. On the whole, she did little to please or praise him.
I felt that there was enough basic love within their marriage that they could correct the situation—provided they made a strong effort to develop positive feelings for one another. I suggested that she return home and change her appearance, clean the house, read a good book, and attempt to become more interesting and attractive. She was counseled to greet her husband each night with a smile and a positive attitude.
Such a drastic change in attitude came as shock to her husband. Initially, he was very suspicious, certain that something was wrong or that his wife was being pleasant because she had some ulterior motive. But as she continued with the positive behavior, he began to enjoy the special attention she gave him and was pleased with the positive comments. He spent more time at home, and developed a better relationship with the children. The marriage soon became good and productive again.

After spending her childhood in different locations throughout the United States, Sister Jeannie Anette Dennis thought her dreams had come true when her family moved to Cottonwood Heights, Utah.
“I thought everybody in Utah was a member of the Church and that it was going to be a haven here,” she said.
During her first few days in ninth grade, she was excited to be invited to a party. But a girl who became her best friend warned her that people at the party would be using drugs.
“I learned very quickly that the world is everywhere,” she said. Her testimony and a gospel-centered home, however, kept her strong throughout high school.

Recently Sister Cook and I attended a women’s conference in South Africa. After we listened to some inspiring messages on applying the Atonement in our lives, the stake Relief Society president invited everyone outside. We were each given a helium balloon. She explained that our balloon represented whatever burden, trial, or hardship was holding us back in our lives. On the count of three, we released our balloons, or our “burdens.” As we looked up and watched our burdens float away, there was an audible “Ahhhh.” That simple act of releasing our balloons provided a marvelous reminder of the indescribable joy that comes from looking up and thinking of Christ.

One day I biked home from school. As I got closer to my house, I saw my mom holding our new puppy. I was excited to see them, so I quickly pushed myself off my bike. All of a sudden, I heard a big pop! Pain shot through my right arm. I could barely lift it up.
My mom drove me to the hospital. When we arrived, the doctor took an X-ray of my arm. He told us that I had a cyst in my bone. I didn’t know what that was, so he explained. “A bone cyst is when part of the bone is hollow and filled with fluid,” the doctor said. “That’s why it was so easy to break.”
The doctor said that I might need to have surgery. That sounded scary. He told us that he would see us in a few weeks to decide if I needed surgery or not. Until then, I would need to wear a sling for my arm. On the way back home, I kept saying prayers in my head. Heavenly Father, please help me be brave. This is really scary. Please help me be confident.
A month later, I had a doctor’s appointment to see if I needed surgery. I was still scared. The Friend magazine had just come out for the month, and I started to read it. The Matt and Mandy comic was about how Matt broke his arm (Oct. 2019). He had to have surgery. Just like me!
After I read it, I felt peace. I said a prayer thanking Heavenly Father for answering my prayer. I knew I could be brave no matter what happened. I also thanked Heavenly Father for always listening to me and being there for me, like a true friend.

The enthusiastic young people of the Cleveland First Ward, Huntington Utah Stake treated the senior citizens in their ward to a Red Carpet Honor Night. The Young Men, dressed in suits and ties, first delivered an invitation to each home. Then on the night of the activity, they served as chauffeurs and escorts; they drove to each home, rolled out the red carpet, and escorted their guests to the meetinghouse. There they seated the elderly members of their ward and served them a delicious meal prepared by the Young Women.
After dinner, the senior ward members were seated in a semicircle at the front of the auditorium. They were each given an opportunity to tell how they arrived in the community, what life was like when they were growing up, and how they met their companions. They also answered questions from the audience, offered several good words of advice to the youth, and thanked them for a wonderful evening.

In earlier times, tithing was paid in kind—a tenth of the herdsman’s increase, a tenth of the farmer’s produce. I am sorry that our modern cash economy deprives parents of the wonderful teaching opportunities presented by the payment of tithing in kind. In a recent book, Tongan Saints: Legacy of Faith, the author quotes a Tongan bishop’s memories of one such example:
“Grandpa Vanisi’s spirituality inspired an awe in me as a child. I remember following him daily to his plantation. He would always point out to me the very best of his taro, bananas, or yams and say: ‘These will be for our tithing.’ His greatest care was given to these ‘chosen’ ones. During the harvest, I was often the one assigned to take our load of tithing to the branch president. I remember sitting on the family horse. Grandfather would lift onto its back a sack of fine taro which I balanced in front of me. Then with a very serious look in his eyes, he said to me, ‘Simi, be very careful because this is our tithing.’ From my grandfather I learned early in life that you give only your best to the Lord” (in Eric B. Shumway, trans. and ed., Tongan Saints: Legacy of Faith [Laie, Hawaii: The Institute for Polynesian Studies, 1991], pp. 79–80).

On a recent trip to New Zealand, I met with a mission president who wore a beautiful tie tack with the inspiring CTR, or “Choose the Right,” emblem. “When I was a bishop,” he explained, “[I] had an interview with a good-looking young man who was to receive the Aaronic Priesthood. He told me a special story. He related to me how one day after school, he and some of his friends found a package of cigarettes. They decided to go down on the cliff alongside some large boulders and smoke them. They lit up, and the young man said that as he was looking down at the smoldering cigarette that he held between his fingers, he saw his CTR ring. He quickly put the cigarette out and made a very wise choice—to never, ever do such a thing again. He chose to choose the right, as he remembered what the emblem stood for. From this story I gained a special love for the CTR emblem.”