Gospel Story Finder

The picture of Joseph Smith kneeling in the sacred grove is familiar to most of us. The results of his prayer have been felt throughout the world. Have you ever wondered what inspired a young boy to turn to prayer when he was troubled and doubting? Some have suggested that his mother planted the seeds. When Joseph was nine years old and his sister Sophronia was ten, she was dying with typhus fever. His mother wrote that she and her husband clasped hands, knelt by the side of Sophronia’s bed, and poured out their hearts to Heavenly Father in prayer asking Him to spare their daughter’s life. From that moment, Sophronia improved and completely recovered.

Many years ago I was in Stockton, California, and a high councilor came up to me and said, “Elder Featherstone, I’ve been impressed by what you’ve said about the family. I have a son who is 17 years old. I haven’t hugged him or told him I loved him for half of his life—not since he was eight years old. I’m going home today, and I’m going to hug him and tell him I love him.”

I was afraid he might chicken out, so I asked him to write me a letter and tell me how it went. He wrote me a letter that arrived about three days later. Essentially, he said this, “I went home after Church. My son was watching a football game. He was slouched in the big easy chair with his leg up over the arm. I walked up to him, grabbed him by the arm, pulled him out of the chair, hugged him, kissed him on the cheek, and told him I loved him for the first time in half his life.”

I read the letter as I sat in my office, and the tears ran down and splashed on the letter. Of course we love each other. Love is critical.

During the summer of 1996, our family hosted two musicians from a Russian folk-dance group. I had recently given my husband a subscription to the Liahona (Russian), and one morning, one of our guests started to look through the June 1996 issue. He got out his reading glasses and closely studied a particular page. Then he shared that page with our other Russian guest. I learned later that the item in the magazine that had caused such great interest was “The Family: A Proclamation to the World,” issued by the First Presidency and Council of the Twelve Apostles.
At the end of the week, as they prepared to leave, our guests asked for only one souvenir—the magazine with the family proclamation in it. We gladly gave it to them—hopefully along with good experiences with our own family.
Victoria Morris,Bountiful 41st Ward, Bountiful Utah Heights Stake

When President David O. McKay was a young missionary in Scotland, he was homesick, discouraged, and low in spirit. As he walked down the street with his companion, he noticed an inscription chiseled in a stone lintel of an unfinished building which read, “Whate’er Thou Art, Act Well Thy Part.” From that moment, he began to act the part of a good missionary and became a great one. This was a learning experience that helped him in numerous important callings he received later in life. (See Cherished Experiences from the Writings of President David O. McKay, comp. Clare Middlemiss, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1955, p. 174.)

Let me illustrate with a story. Some 34 years ago, I was serving as a missionary on a small island called Niuatoputapu in the Friendly Islands of Tonga. At that time there was a faifekau tauhikolo, or missionary branch president, who was also serving on the island. He and his wife had two children, a boy and a girl. I believe the girl was about 10 years of age and the boy was perhaps 7 years old.

Their little boy was rather typical for his age, filled with energy, always running around. It seemed he was perpetually smiling and cheerful.

On one sunny, beautiful day, he was playing with his friends. He became thirsty, ran to the small fale or house, where they lived. He reached inside and grabbed a dark brown colored bottle. The family kept water to drink in such bottles, as they did soda, and also benzene to fuel their lantern. On this occasion, because he was in such a hurry and not paying close attention, the little boy grabbed the bottle filled with benzene thinking it was the one filled with water. Anxious to get back to his friends, and as quickly as he could, he put the bottle to his lips and took several large gulps.

In but a few moments, he was lying on the ground, his body in convulsions. His mother's screams brought the father running. As my companion and I came upon the scene, we saw approx. 50-60 people from the village gathered around. All looked terribly worried. The father was sitting, cross-legged on the ground in front of their home. He held his son on his lap. The son's face was beginning to turn a sickeningly blue-purple color. I found myself praying silently for both the father and his son.

Once or twice a year, a government doctor would visit this tiny island from the main island of Tongatapu. Coincidently, the boat carrying the doctor had been visiting the previous day. The boat was at anchor just beyond the reef as its captain and crew were preparing to depart.

A man, standing in the crowd surrounding the branch president and his son, said something like, "Look, the boat with the doctor is still here. How fortunate. I'll bring the doctor to help!" This man and another standing nearby then raced for the beach towards a canoe lying on the sand. They quickly began pushing the canoe towards the ocean.

To everyone's surprise, the branch president called out to the two men and asked them to return. With a total sense of calm and in quiet humility, he spoke to everyone present, uttering as nearly as I can recollect the following, "We will have no need of the government doctor today, for we will call upon the Master Doctor, who is the healer of us all."

No one moved. No one spoke. Everyone's eyes were fixed upon the man, this faithful missionary branch president, and his son, who was by now twisted and looked nigh unto death.

The father began to share with the gathered villagers the message of the restoration. He bore testimony that there were prophets and apostles again upon the earth, and that God's power, the Priesthood, had also been restored. He described the ordinance of blessing the sick. He held up a small container of consecrated oil his wife had handed to him. He asked everyone to pray and exercise faith as he first anointed his son with the oil, and then sealed that anointing by the power of the Priesthood.

Some bowed their heads, others remained transfixed and incredulous that this father was not taking advantage of the availability of the government doctor.

The father blessed his son that he would be completely healed and that he would suffer no lasting effects from the benzene he had ingested.

As he concluded the blessing there was total silence still. Everyone's eyes were now fixed on the young son. Immediately there was a lessening of the convulsions until they totally stopped. Just as quickly the ghastly color of his face transformed to its natural and normal color.

The little boy then opened his eyes, looked at his father, and looked around at all the people who were starring at him. He clearly did not know what had just happened. He jumped up, saw his friends standing in the crowd, ran over to them, and said, "Let's go play!" And they ran off together.

The rest of the villagers remained where they were. The branch president again bore his testimony of God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, and of their power to heal us all from our sicknesses, whether they be physical or spiritual. He said that he was a missionary, and along with the other missionaries on the island (my companion and me) that we had come to share with them the message of the restored gospel.

After a time, the crowd dispersed. My companion and I had then an opportunity to visit with this wonderfully faithful missionary branch president. I told him that I marveled at his great faith. He seemed surprised, even perplexed. He asked, "Why would you be surprised? Are we not missionaries? Haven't we come to bear witness of the Father and the Son? Don't the scriptures say 'Ask and ye shall receive'? That is all I did! Wasn't this a great missionary opportunity? Shouldn't I have recognized it as such? Why would you be surprised? Elder Orgill where is your faith?"

That day, on that tiny island, in that humble village, I learned something about what it means to be 'valiant in the testimony of Jesus', to be 'just and true', to 'overcome all things by faith'. I learned that there was a higher level of living and acting than just being good and just being honorable, even with all the positive meaning embodied by those words.

President Paulo Kretly of the Mozambique Maputo Mission shared this experience: “It is common in Mozambique [for] couples to live their lives together [without being married because] African tradition require[s] an expensive dowry to marry, a dowry most couples can’t afford.”
Members and missionaries thought and prayed about how to help.
The answer to their prayers was that they would emphasize the law of chastity and the importance of marriage and eternal families. And while helping couples to repent and legally marry, they would teach of the happiness that only comes through following Jesus Christ.
This is a picture of couples from two different cities in Mozambique. Married on Friday, they were baptized with their older children on Saturday. Friends and family were invited to “come and see,” and hundreds did “come and see.”
Following the baptism, one sister said, “We needed to choose whether to follow the traditions of our fathers or to follow Jesus Christ. We chose to follow Christ.”

Another group of Ogden stakes performed a service that not only delighted thousands of visitors to Temple Square during the Christmas season, but will bring joy to dozens of children in Israel. The Young Women made stuffed stocking dolls dressed in the native costumes of nations throughout the world. The dolls were tied with wide red ribbons to trees in both the North and South Visitors’ Centers on Temple Square. Each girl researched the country her doll was to represent and tried to make the costume look as authentic as possible. She then attached a note with her name and address to the doll.
After Christmas, the dolls were packed in the suitcases of participants on Brigham Young University’s study abroad program to Jerusalem. The dolls were transported by the students to Israel where they were given to Arab orphans in Bethlehem. When the first doll was delivered, a small, bespectacled girl named Ikhlass received it. She clung to her new doll throughout the day, taking it with her as she played, ate, and slept.
Donalyn Lewis of the Salt Lake Cannon Stake found that giving service also made her feel better about herself. After working with a project involving elderly members of her ward, Donalyn said, “They make me feel like I’m somebody.” And Kara Nelsen of the Salt Lake Holladay Stake discovered the long-lasting and profound effect service can have. Kara said, “In order to love someone, you have to get to know them.”
Service defies the laws of give and take. It is a special thing that gives to the giver as well as giving to the receiver. The sweet taste of service comes to both. It fills those in need and it satisfies those who give. Taste the sweetness of service.

Last November, I had the privilege of being invited—along with President Henry B. Eyring and Bishop Gérald Caussé—to attend a colloquium on marriage and family at the Vatican in Rome, Italy. In attendance were religious representatives from 14 different faiths and from six of the seven continents, all of whom had been invited to express their beliefs on what is happening to the family in today’s world.
Pope Francis opened the first session of the assembly with this statement: “We now live in a culture of the temporary, in which more and more people are simply giving up on marriage as a public commitment. This revolution in manners and morals has often flown the flag of freedom, but in fact it has brought spiritual and material devastation to countless human beings, especially the poorest and most vulnerable. … It is always they who suffer the most in this crisis.”
In referring to those of the rising generation, he said it is important that they “do not give themselves over to the poisonous [mentality] of the temporary, but rather be revolutionaries with the courage to seek true and lasting love, going against the common pattern”; this must be done.
This was followed by three days of presentation and discussion with religious leaders addressing the subject of marriage between a man and a woman. As I listened to the widest imaginable variety of worldwide religious leaders, I heard them agree completely with each other and express support for one another’s beliefs on the sanctity of the institution of marriage and of the importance of families as the basic unit of society. I felt a powerful sense of commonality and unity with them.
There were many who saw and expressed this unity, and they did so in a variety of ways. One of my favorites was when a Muslim scholar from Iran quoted two paragraphs verbatim from our very own proclamation on the family.
During the colloquium, I observed that when various faiths and denominations and religions are united on marriage and family, they are also united on the values and loyalty and commitment which are naturally associated with family units. It was remarkable for me to see how marriage and family-centered priorities cut across and superseded any political, economic, or religious differences. When it comes to love of spouse and hopes, worries, and dreams for children, we are all the same.
It was marvelous to be in meetings with worldwide presenters as they universally addressed their feelings of the importance of marriage between a man and a woman. Each of their addresses was followed by testimonies from other religious leaders. President Henry B. Eyring gave a final testimony at the colloquium. He bore powerful witness to the beauty of a committed marriage and to our belief in the promised blessing of eternal families.
President Eyring’s testimony was a fitting benediction to those three special days.

This was the beginning of a beautiful year filled with spiritual blessings. An institute class began in our branch, with the Doctrine and Covenants as our course of study. Ceci said that she would help me if I would participate. A few months later the instructor left, and I was asked to take his place.
One of our lessons was on temple marriage and vicarious work for the dead. One night soon after, I dreamed that I saw my uncle, who had died nineteen years before, and my stepfather, who had also passed away. They seemed to want something from me. I felt something whisper to me that I must go to the temple, that temple marriage is a commandment of God.
When I awoke, I knelt down and asked Heavenly Father to permit us to go. Then, wanting to strengthen my resolve, I took out a piece of paper and wrote down the prayer I had just offered. “Heavenly Father,” I wrote, “if it is thy will, I ask thee to let me go to the temple with my wife, Ceci, and my children, Diego and Adrianita.” I awoke my wife and told her what I had done. She cried and hugged me. She knew how hard this goal would be to reach.
Since we lived in Ambato, Ecuador, the nearest temple was across national boundaries in Lima, Peru. A trip there would involve a lot of paperwork, a thirty-six-hour bus ride, and real economic sacrifice. It would be hard on our children, who had never traveled and were very active. But we were strengthened in our resolve when we received our patriarchal blessings.
On 20 May 1987, my wife, my daughter, my son, and I finally saw the temple. There was the figure of the angel Moroni, facing heaven from one of the towers. What joy we felt as my wife and I received our endowments and were sealed to our children for eternity! Then we did vicarious ordinance work for our loved ones.
Every time I think about this experience, I want to return to the temple again. I am so grateful we did not miss the opportunity to make these eternal covenants. God has restored his gospel, including his temple ordinances, because of his love for us. I know that he lives.

It started with a phone call. Elmer wanted to ask Geraldine for a date to the prom, but she hadn’t been his first choice. So when Geraldine answered the phone, Elmer blurted out, “I couldn’t get anyone else to go with me; do you want to go?” This approach did nothing to make Geraldine feel special, so she answered, “Let me see. I’ll have to check the television schedule first.” Arriving at the dance, Elmer let the door swing shut in Geraldine’s face. She, in turn, left Elmer in an awkward situation when she huddled to talk with her girl friends and left him standing alone.
The situation may be a little farfetched, but the antics of Elmer and Geraldine doing all the wrong things on a date started a discussion on dating manners at a series of workshops held by the Ammon Stake in Idaho Falls, Idaho. The skit was a way of introducing a discussion on the subject, and the majority of the audience agreed that they are impressed by a polite girl or guy as a dating partner.

I caught hold of the gospel and hung on tight. I worked furiously to catch up in knowledge with my friends who had been raised in the Church. Many of my Mormon peers thought I was terribly self-righteous. I suppose it may have seemed that way to them, but I tried to be perfect because I was convinced that I could never escape my sins. I thought that by knowing all of the answers in church and receiving awards in seminary I could somehow make up for all the mistakes I had made. I remember thinking at the time that I could never be free from my haunting past. I accepted that fact and resolved to be perfect in order to compensate.
One of the hardest steps of repentance (at least for me) was to forgive myself. For four long years I struggled. To everyone around me I seemed spiritual and well-versed in the scriptures. Others told me how far I had come and how well I was doing, but only I knew the black that lined my heart. I had forsaken my past sins, and I was sure that God was pleased with my new life. But I felt that he was holding my past over my head, waiting for me to fall again.
Finally, in despair and confusion, I asked for a blessing. Words cannot express the peace that entered my heart as I received this personal revelation: I would receive the reassurance of the Holy Ghost and know that I was in good standing with Heavenly Father.
How could that be? My mind didn’t understand it, but my heart accepted it. So I believed it.

When I was baptized, I was very excited to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At the same time, I remember being extremely anxious about joining a church where I didn’t know anyone besides the missionaries who had taken their time to teach me about the restored Church and the Book of Mormon. I was living in Austria at the time. I got to know a few members in the Church but at that time I had not really made strong connections with anyone. My first Sunday as a new convert was truly blessed as the young missionary who had convinced to come to church sat by my side translating what was being said as my German was still poor. The sacrament meeting left me with so much peace in my heart as I felt an understanding of the message of the day. I was introduced to Sister Toni who smiled and sat next to me during Sunday School and Relief Society meetings.
After church she invited me to her home for lunch and I met with the rest of her family. This family became my first friends in the church, they always picked me up for church activities. Through them I began to know more and more about the gospel and every Sunday I looked forward to going to church. Other Church members were equally friendly.

He is also a caring brother. On the day the Friend magazine interviewed Nolan, he and his brothers were enjoying lunch from a local fast-food restaurant. The younger boys all received toys with their meals except for Austin, Nolan’s three-year-old brother. When Austin told his mother that he wanted a toy, too, Nolan immediately tossed his toy over to his brother, saying, “Here, you can have mine.”

The day progressed better than I thought it would. Snow fell throughout the morning, giving way to an afternoon of windy sunshine. I heaved a relieved sigh when my geometry test was postponed a day. I hurried home after school to tell Topie good-bye.
Mom met me at the door. She held a dish towel in her hands. Her cheeks were wet. Why had she been crying?
“Honey,” she said, “I tried to get them to wait until you came home from school, but they left with Topie an hour ago. I know how much you wanted to say good-bye. I’m sorry, Honey. I’m so sorry.”
I felt numb and strange and sort of broken. “I’ll be okay,” I said. “I’m going to go up to my room for a while.”
I sat on my bed for a long time. I stared out the window at the ring I used to ride in and the homemade jumps Dad built for me. I stared at distant hoof prints in the mud and the bit of snow that hadn’t quite melted. There wouldn’t be any snow in California. I stared at the green and yellow wallpaper Mom had found on sale and we had hung together. I stared at everything that I would be leaving behind.
Suddenly the door cracked open and, before I could say anything, Rob was next to me on the bed.
“Why aren’t you at baseball practice?” I asked.
“I thought you might want to do something,” he said. His little boy eyes looked soft.
That’s when it hit. I didn’t just cry. I sobbed. Tears for my beautiful horse, my ugly hair, and all of the changes that jerked me so fast and hard. Rob’s hand on my shoulder moved up and down with my gulps. When I quieted, Rob turned to me.
“I’m thinking of someone,” he said.
He was playing the guessing game, a silly game we played on long car trips. By asking yes and no questions a player had to guess who the other player was thinking about. The person in mind could be rich and famous, alive or dead, or the kid next door. The only rule was that all of the players had to have heard of that person. You got a point for each question you asked and the lowest score won.
We played for a long time, our voices trailing the air. In the back of my mind I realized that my little ten-year-old brother was missing his Little League practice in order to be with me, in order to keep my mind moving and to give my soul something to grip other than loneliness. Rob beat me by one point.
“Hey, this isn’t fair,” I forced a smile. “When you were a little kid I used to let you win whenever we raced. You could at least let me win one today.”
“That’s too much to ask!” Rob laughed. “But I will let you have the mashed potatoes first tonight!” I managed a real smile. We raced down to dinner and tied.

I have seen that faith and courage many times when believing Latter-day Saints have faced fearsome trials. For one example, I was in Idaho when the Teton Dam broke on June 5, 1976. A wall of water came down. Thousands fled from their homes. Thousands of homes and businesses were destroyed. Miraculously, fewer than 15 people were killed.
What I saw there, I have seen whenever Latter-day Saints stand firmly on the rock of a testimony of Jesus Christ. Because they have no doubt He watches over them, they become fearless. They ignore their own trials to go to the relief of others. And they do so out of love for the Lord, asking no recompense.
For example, when the Teton Dam broke, a Latter-day Saint couple was traveling, miles away from their home. As soon as they heard the news on the radio, they hurried back to Rexburg. Rather than going to their own home to see if it was destroyed, they went looking for their bishop. He was in a building that was being used as the recovery center. He was helping to direct the thousands of volunteers who were arriving in yellow school buses.
The couple walked up to the bishop and said, “We just got back. Bishop, where can we go to help?” He gave them the names of a family. That couple stayed mucking out mud and water in one home after another. They worked from dawn to dark for days. They finally took a break to go see about their own home. It was gone in the flood, leaving nothing to clean up. So they turned around quickly to go back to their bishop. They asked, “Bishop, do you have someone for us to help?”
That miracle of quiet courage and charity—the pure love of Christ—has been repeated over the years and across the world. It happened in the terrible days of the persecutions and trials at the time of the Prophet Joseph Smith in Missouri. It happened as Brigham Young led the exodus from Nauvoo and then called Saints to desert places all over the western United States, to help each other create Zion for the Lord.
If you read the journal entries of those pioneers, you see the miracle of faith driving out doubt and fear. And you read of Saints leaving their own interests to help someone else for the Lord, before getting back to their own sheep or to their own unplowed fields.
I saw that same miracle a few short days ago in the aftermath of Hurricane Irma in Puerto Rico, Saint Thomas, and Florida, where Latter-day Saints partnered with other churches, local community groups, and national organizations to begin cleanup efforts.
Like my friends in Rexburg, one nonmember couple in Florida focused on helping the community rather than laboring on their own property. When some Latter-day Saint neighbors offered help with the two large trees blocking their driveway, the couple explained that they had been overwhelmed and so had turned to helping others, having faith that the Lord would provide the aid they needed at their own home. The husband then shared that before our Church members arrived with offers of assistance, the couple had been praying. They had received an answer that help would come. It came within hours of that assurance.
I have heard a report that some have started calling the Latter-day Saints who are wearing yellow Helping Hands T-shirts “The Yellow Angels.” One Latter-day Saint took her car in for service, and the man helping her described the “spiritual experience” he had when people in yellow shirts removed trees from his yard and then, he said, they “sang some song to me about being a child of God.”
Another Florida resident—also not of our faith—related that Latter-day Saints came to her home when she was working in her devastated yard and feeling overwhelmed, overheated, and close to tears. The volunteers created, in her words, “a pure miracle.” They served not only with diligence but also with laughter and smiles, accepting nothing in return.
I saw that diligence and heard that laughter when, late on a Saturday, I visited with a group of Latter-day Saints in Florida. The volunteers stopped their cleanup labor long enough to let me shake some hands. They said that 90 members of their stake in Georgia had created a plan to join in the rescue in Florida just the night before.
They left Georgia at 4:00 in the morning, drove for hours, worked through the day and into the night, and planned to labor again the next day.
They described it to me all with smiles and good humor. The only stress I sensed was that they wanted to stop being thanked so they could get back to work. The stake president had restarted his chain saw and was working on a downed tree and a bishop was moving tree limbs as we got into our vehicle to go to the next rescue team.
Earlier that day, as we pulled away from another site, a man had walked up to the car, taken off his hat, and thanked us for the volunteers. He said, “I’m not a member of your church. I can’t believe what you have done for us. God bless you.” The LDS volunteer standing next to him in his yellow shirt smiled and shrugged his shoulders as if he deserved no praise.
While the volunteers from Georgia had come to help this man who couldn’t believe it, hundreds of Latter-day Saints from that very devastated part of Florida had gone hundreds of miles south to another place in Florida where they had heard the people were harder hit.
That day I remembered and understood better the prophetic words of the Prophet Joseph Smith: “A man filled with the love of God, is not content with blessing his family alone, but ranges through the whole world, anxious to bless the whole human race” (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Joseph Smith [2007], 426).
We see such love in the lives of Latter-day Saints everywhere. Each time there is a tragic event anywhere in the world, Latter-day Saints donate and volunteer to the Church’s humanitarian efforts. An appeal is seldom needed. In fact, on some occasions, we have had to ask would-be volunteers to wait to travel to the recovery site until those directing the work are prepared to receive them.
That desire to bless is the fruit of people gaining a testimony of Jesus Christ, His gospel, His restored Church, and His prophet. That is why the Lord’s people doubt not and fear not. That is why missionaries volunteer for service in every corner of the world. That is why parents pray with their children for others. That is why leaders challenge their youth to take President Monson’s request to immerse themselves in the Book of Mormon to heart. The fruit comes not by being urged by leaders but by the youth and members acting on faith. That faith, put into action, which requires selfless sacrifice, brings the change of heart that allows them to feel the love of God.
Our hearts, however, remain changed only as long as we continue to follow the prophet’s counsel. If we stop trying after one burst of effort, the change will fade.
Faithful Latter-day Saints have increased their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, in the Book of Mormon as the word of God, and in the restoration of priesthood keys in His true Church. That increased testimony has given us greater courage and concern for others of God’s children. But the challenges and the opportunities ahead will require even more.
We cannot foresee the details, but we know the larger picture. We know that in the last days, the world will be in commotion. We know that in the midst of whatever trouble comes, the Lord will lead faithful Latter-day Saints to take the gospel of Jesus Christ to every nation, kindred, tongue, and people. And we know that the Lord’s true disciples will be worthy and prepared to receive Him when He comes again. We need not fear.
So, as much as we have already built faith and courage in our hearts, the Lord expects more from us—and from the generations after us. They will need to be stronger and braver because they will do even greater and harder things than we have done. And they will face increasing opposition from the enemy of our souls.
The way to optimism as we go forward was given by the Lord: “Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not” (D&C 6:36). President Monson told us how to do that. We are to ponder and apply the Book of Mormon and the words of prophets. Pray always. Be believing. Serve the Lord with all our heart, might, mind, and strength. We are to pray with all the energy of our hearts for the gift of charity, the pure love of Christ (see Moroni 7:47–48). And above all, we are to be consistent and persistent in following prophetic counsel.
When the way is difficult, we can rely on the Lord’s promise—the promise President Monson has reminded us of when he has often quoted these words of the Savior: “Whoso receiveth you, there I will be also, for I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up” (D&C 84:88).
I testify that the Lord goes before your face whenever you are on His errand. Sometimes you will be the angel the Lord sends to bear others up. Sometimes you will be the one surrounded by angels who bear you up. But always you will have His Spirit to be in your heart, as you have been promised in every sacrament service. You have only to keep His commandments.
The best days are ahead for the kingdom of God on the earth. Opposition will strengthen our faith in Jesus Christ, as it has since the days of the Prophet Joseph Smith. Faith always defeats fear. Standing together produces unity. And your prayers for those in need are heard and answered by a loving God. He neither slumbers nor does He sleep.
I bear my witness that God the Father lives and wants you to come home to Him. This is the true Church of the Lord Jesus Christ. He knows you; He loves you; He watches over you. He atoned for your sins and mine and the sins of all of Heavenly Father’s children. Following Him in your life and in your service to others is the only way to eternal life.
I so testify and leave you my blessing and my love. In the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Illustrations by Adam Howling
In Chile, in order to go to college, you have to take a university placement test. I wanted to study engineering at a university that was far from where I lived. It would be very expensive, so my goal was to get the highest score possible on the placement test so I could earn a scholarship for outstanding exam scores.
I knew where and what I wanted to study, and I knew what I would have to do to make it happen. I started preparing for the test. I studied, read, and reviewed the material, but on the practice tests, I still wasn’t getting the score I needed. I turned to my Heavenly Father in prayer and asked Him for greater intelligence and to enlighten my understanding so I could reach my goal. I prayed for this daily for an entire year. I went to special preparation classes at my school, and I enrolled in classes at an institution that was geared toward preparing for the exam.
I kept up my daily scripture study, and I never missed a day of seminary. I fulfilled all my Aaronic Priesthood assignments and never studied on Sundays, no matter how desperate the situation was. I knew Sunday is the Lord’s day, and I wanted to respect it in the way my parents had taught me. I knew I couldn’t afford to deprive myself of the blessings Heavenly Father had for me, especially when I most needed them. Despite all this, I wasn’t getting the score I needed on my practice tests.
My family and I prayed and fasted, and my dad gave me a blessing. With this spiritual preparation and my other preparation, I took the test. Not only did I end up with the score I needed, but I exceeded my goal, scoring one of the highest percentages possible in the math section. I received the scholarships and benefits I needed, and I was able to study at the university I chose.
From the time I was young, I learned that if I did everything I could and took care of my spiritual responsibilities first, then Heavenly Father would bless me. Things might not always work out the way we expect them to, but God will take care of us. I know it’s only with His help that all things are possible.

I’m driving my husband to a chemo treatment. It’s midmorning in early September, and the road is so drenched in water and fog that the white line on the side of the road is almost invisible. Wind rocks the car, and my fingers hurt as they grip the wheel. In another life, just a few weeks ago, we’d never have left the house in a downpour like this. But we have a 10:00 a.m. appointment with a small bag of poison, and not going isn’t an option.

Ahead is a stretch of road that lies low in the valley. It collects the fog like a bowl, and the water pools on the freeway there. I’m terrified of hydroplaning, but just before we hit the dreaded spot, the fog lifts a little. My windshield wipers catch up with the water, and a calmness settles in my chest. The rain drenches us for the whole 25 miles, but we make it in one piece.

Later, when we are done and the sun is elbowing through gray clouds outside the treatment center, my husband, Jacob, tells me he wasn’t afraid as we drove.

That’s all fine. But he wasn’t the one behind the wheel.

Jacob doesn’t leave it there. “The Savior has control over the elements. He walked on the water and calmed the seas.”

My heart lifts at the thought: Jesus walking on water (see Matthew 14:22–33), Jesus rebuking the storm (see Matthew 8:23–27). “The Master of ocean and earth and skies.”2

Jacob’s voice is breathy and scratchy—a side effect of all the treatments. “I knew we were going to be OK. I could tell that you were nervous, though. I prayed, ‘I know Thou canst control this water. If it be Thy will, please lift the rain a little so she can see.’”

I remember the easing of the rain and the peace settling inside me.

The workshop couldn’t have been busier if it belonged to Santa’s elves. From one end to the other, workers were unloading trucks, repairing sleds and furniture, sorting buttons for clothing, sewing, and even stacking skis.
But these weren’t elves at work. They were young men and women from the Ogden Utah Weber Stake. And the workshop wasn’t at the North Pole. It was at the Deseret Industries welfare complex in Ogden, where the youth of the stake converged one Saturday to help the regular employees beat the Christmas rush.
It was part of a month-long program to get the youth acquainted with the elderly and handicapped who form the main part of the labor force at the facility, which repairs and sells used furniture and clothing. It was also part of an effort to help those employees have a merry Christmas. In addition to the day spent working in the warehouse and production areas, the young people also presented a week’s worth of morning devotionals, put in another Saturday collecting reusable items, and just a few days before Christmas, sponsored a party for employees.
“The whole idea was to get in the Christmas spirit,” Paula Watkins of the Uintah Second Ward said. “When you do something for other people, it makes you feel that you’re giving of yourself.”
Frost was still in the air the morning the young men and women went door-to-door in their ward areas reminding people to donate items in good or reparable condition. Couches, lamps, dolls, toasters, an adding machine, desks, chairs, and other household wares soon bulged the sides of two large trucks, with more contributions still coming. One neighborhood florist donated a whole van full of Christmas decorations. One young man, enthused by the spirit of giving, pedaled up on his used bicycle and donated it to the drive. Half a dozen truckloads of usable items were amassed during the day.
The following week the group began presenting morning devotionals. Each ward was assigned a particular day. Ward members presenting the program would meet with D.I. employees in the Ogden complex chapel for prayer, song, and a spiritual thought.
The devotionals strengthened the staff, according to Niolee Petersen, a supervisor. “One of our goals is to bring the Spirit into the lives of those who work here, and the devotionals help a lot. These were special spirits, a lot of good kids. They have communicated very well with the handicapped workers.”
The following Saturday, however, is when real friendships and close relationships began to grow.
“We have about 30 handicapped workers under the direction of each supervisor, but they don’t all work on the same shift,” Sister Petersen explained. “Handicaps include age, physical impairments, and social and emotional maladjustments. This group of young people moved right in and helped everyone who was there on Saturday. It didn’t take much instruction before they were doing high-quality work.”
It was indeed a sight to see a deacon working side-by-side on a commercial steam press with a woman who could have been his grandmother, but who joked and chatted with him like a schoolmate, or to watch a squadron of young men descend on a carpentry shop and learn under careful tutelage some fine points of cabinet making. Other work assignments included sorting clothing, polishing shoes, shredding rags to make rugs, pricing items for sale and affixing tags, ironing, and a variety of other tasks.
“But,” as Shelley Johnson of the Uintah Second Ward stressed, “the most important thing isn’t what type of work we did. It’s that we were able to help other people.”
About 325 young people participated in the project. They worked in two shifts, one in the morning, one in the afternoon. Each person was given the name of an employee to become acquainted with. Some were then given tasks to perform on their own, others were assigned to work under the direction of an employee, and others worked with supervisors.
“It was something different, something I’ll remember for a long time,” said Nan Brian of the Uintah First Ward. One of the supervisors said Mark Stockset of the Uintah Second Ward was a “real whiz on the steam machine.” Mark laughed. “I’ve never worked with one before,” he said, “but I’m kind of used to it now.”
“I think this whole Deseret Industries idea is a good thing,” said Janean Dickson of the Uintah Second Ward. “It helps people take care of themselves. It teaches the value of work and makes you count your blessings.
“I was especially interested to see the quality of merchandise they sell. The clothing isn’t worn out and run down; it’s nice. They have things for sale I’d be glad to wear.”
“Next time I give things to D.I., I’ll be more aware of what they can use,” said Lisa Fowles of the South Weber Second Ward, “so I’ll make a more meaningful donation.”
Over in the furniture repair shop, three young women from the stake removed nails from furniture being prepared for reupholstery.
“Did you think you’d be doing this kind of work today?” they were asked. “No,” came the reply, “but it’s fun to be able to work firsthand with tools. I don’t usually get a chance to do that, and the exposure will help me.”
“The people who work here have been really friendly to us,” David Jensen of the South Weber Second Ward said. “They seem like they’re glad to have us here.” Laurie Glissman, of the same ward, added, “It helps you when you work along with people; you come to understand them and the way they are. And it sure put me in the Christmas spirit to realize how fortunate I am. I think this welfare program is a good way to help those in need, because they can work and maintain their dignity.”
“Those who have never had a chance to get close to the handicapped don’t understand them.” Gladys Huber, another supervisor, said. “It’s good to see these young folks come out and get to know their brothers and sisters.”
“The workers were a bit wary about it at first,” Sister Petersen added. “But when the young people got here and started working with them, they were delighted. It’s been a perfect show of brotherly love.”
The employees did in fact seem impressed by the youthful volunteers. “They learn pretty fast, and work hard,” Rell Smith said. “It’s good to have them here. We’d like more groups to come. Just let us know when.”
Janean spent the day working with Lottie Dayton, putting size labels on clothing and hanging apparel on racks.
“If I weren’t here today, I’d just be sitting home, or maybe riding my horse,” Janean said. “This is more important—it’s more important to serve the Lord than to serve yourself. That’s what Christmas is all about, helping others. We had to put priorities in order. Sure, it was hard to squeeze everything in, especially when we were trying to do Christmas shopping of our own. But we were excited to come down here, and she’s so sweet …”
Her voice trailed off as she looked over at Sister Dayton, who was still hanging things on the rack as she softly hummed “Where Love Is.”
As young and old labored amid clothing baling machines, steam tunnels (used to remove wrinkles from clothing), label racks, and sorting tables, the workshop did turn out some Christmas magic after all. By the end of each shift, there were no young and old, no handicapped and nonhandicapped, just friends, co-workers, and fellow Saints.
The same spirit prevailed at a Christmas party ten days later.
“We brought all the workers to the stake center,” Nan Brian of the Uintah First Ward explained. “When they got there, we gave each one an ornament with his name and the name of one of the kids in the stake who had worked with him printed on it. Then we did all we could to make them realize we are their friends.”
That included a program of carols, stories, a visit from Santa Claus, and of course, the true story of the birth of Christ as recorded in the scriptures.
As the workers were escorted home and the youth of the Weber Stake returned to their final holiday preparations, there was a warmth and a glow about both groups. Some had learned that others still cared, and some had learned that caring is the solid foundation of December’s glorious celebration.

When Meghan and I first started down this path of differing beliefs, I thought this challenge would be something I would just have to tolerate. I remember one evening after a particularly tumultuous argument, I was lying in bed with tears in my eyes.
Meghan didn’t want to speak to me, and I felt devastated for both of us.
But as I prayed for help and turned to the Savior, I thought about how much I loved her. I felt a rush of love and gratitude and said, “Meghan, I want to be married to you. I love you and I choose you, but if you want to leave, I understand. I would be heartbroken, but I would understand.”
In that moment, I felt the love of God for Meghan, for me, for my family, and for all of God’s children. We all have different journeys in life, and we can learn to work together even when we believe differently.

All too soon the finale arrived. All of the performers rushed out onto the floor of the coliseum. A rainbow of talented youth whirled, and waved small green and gold flags, and danced their hearts out. They were answered with an ovation from those in attendance, but they were not quite through with the evening’s program. There was one more thing they wanted to do.
And there, standing before the capacity audience, the 2,000 colorfully costumed young dancers stood and sang from their hearts, “We thank thee, O God, for a prophet To guide us in these latter days.” As the hymn continued, the lights in the house were lowered, and a single spot shone on an elderly, white-haired gentleman in the audience. He rose to his feet and smiled his acknowledgment.
Then, with whoops and cheers, the dancers ran from the floor. The evening was over, and after several minutes of applause, the appreciative audience stood and started filing out. One nonmember remarked to his wife as they stepped out into the cool evening air, “I wonder who that gentleman in the spotlight was? Those young kids certainly seem to love him.” A festival participant who had hurried into the departing crowd to listen for comments and answer questions heard the statement and replied with quiet conviction, “He’s a prophet of God, sir.”