Gospel Story Finder

Lizzie wiggled and squirmed as she sat watching the deacons pass the sacrament bread. She thought, It’s sure hard to sit still and be reverent while the deacons pass the bread and water. I wonder if all my friends will be in Primary today. I want to tell them about the presents Grandma and Grandpa sent from Portugal. I can’t wait to see them when they come home from their mission!
In a few minutes, a deacon reached their row. When Lizzie took a piece of bread, Mom leaned over and whispered, “This is to help us remember Jesus.”
Lizzie tried to think about all the things that she knew about Jesus. She thought about the story of Jesus visiting the Nephites after he was resurrected. He had blessed each child; then angels had come down from heaven. If only she could have been there!
Then Lizzie remembered a bedtime song Mom sometimes sang to her and her younger brother, Paul:
I think when I read that sweet story of old,
When Jesus was here among men,
How he called little children like lambs to his fold;
I should like to have been with him then.
I wish that his hands had been placed on my head,
That his arms had been thrown around me,
That I might have seen his kind look when he said,
“Let the little ones come unto me.”*
Lizzie smiled quietly to herself and thought, I wish I could have been with Jesus then.
While she bowed her head for the prayer on the water, Lizzie listened carefully to the words. When she heard the priest say, “that they may always have his Spirit to be with them,” she wondered how she could have his Spirit with her.
The deacon passed the water to the family, and again Mom whispered to Lizzie, “This is to help us remember Jesus.”
Lizzie had a new thought. I didn’t live when Jesus was on earth, but he loves me just as much as he loved the children then. The sacrament prayer says that I can have his Spirit with me always if I remember him and am obedient. That’s great!
Lizzie snuggled up against Mom and smiled as the young men finished passing the sacrament. Thinking about Jesus had helped her be reverent during the sacrament, and she had such a good feeling inside that she knew she had done the right thing.

Rosario Saccone
Soft-spoken Rosario Saccone was elated when, in 1981, the missionaries first talked to him about the plan of salvation. He thought, “Finally! Someone who thinks like me.” Excitedly, he gathered his friends at the local pizzeria and had the missionaries explain the plan to them. (One of the those friends was later baptized.)
Rosario’s conversion did not go smoothly, however. At one point, he was going to call off the baptism. But the reassuring words that came from one of the missionaries struck Rosario so deeply that he knew they could only come from the heart of one inspired by God.
The situation nearly got out of hand when his large family learned of his impending baptism. The crying, pleading, and arguing that emanated from his family’s apartment drew the nine other families in their building into the discussion. At length, Rosario succeeded in calming the situation and convincing his mother that what he was about to do would not bring the family disgrace. Instead, it would make him better.
In time, his family came to know that he was right.
Rosario, who lives in Palermo, Sicily, has since served in the Italy Rome Mission and now is employed in microfilming birth, death, and marriage records for the Church’s Family History Department.

More recently, as we were taught to fill out the information in the My Family: Stories that Bring Us Together booklet, the spirit of Elijah was again felt strongly. That is the main purpose in filling out this booklet. This time we felt it was even more personal than when we did our family history work as recent converts.

Before, we spoke of taking names to the temple to perform the sacred ordinances for them. After finding out and recording stories and adding pictures along with the dates of significant life events in the online My Family: Stories that Bring Us Together, we now felt that we knew them, and could not wait to do their temple work. They were now more than just names.
That is how I came to find out about Juana Cancel, one of my father’s grandmothers (and one of my great-grandmothers). She was born in Vega Baja, Puerto Rico in the year 1880. I wrote and recorded the following information about her, which I learned from my father. “Juana Cancel was a very beloved grandmother of my father. She would protect, love, nurture, and spoil him. She safely kept his Life Magazine collection for him. Her husband, Jose Hilario Martinez, died eighteen years before she did. That meant that she had to continue administering and working their farm by herself after his death. She then used to sleep with a half a cue stick, an iron bar, and a hatchet underneath her bed, in case somebody tried to break into her home. She also used to smoke cigarettes. She said that she smoked in order to repel the mosquitoes! She passed away from a metastatic cancer of her cervix. My father remembers her going to receive treatments in the oncologic hospital in San Juan. I love her very much, because it is quite clear to me that my father nearly worshiped her.”
I could not rest until the temple work was done for her. It was a moving labor of love to have all of her vicarious ordinances performed. Family history and temple work are truly the “most glorious of subjects belonging to the everlasting gospel” (D&C 128:17).
I conclude by quoting Sally Johnson Odekirk.1 She wrote an Ensign article where she listed activities that help us do our family history and temple work, in ways that bless all members of the family that participate:
Look at family history websites, especially FamilySearch.org (where you can also find an electronic version of My Family: Stories that Bring Us Together, ready to be completed online). See also churchofjesuschrist.org/topics/family-history/family-history-is-for-everyone.
Take your children to visit the temple or do baptisms for deceased ancestors.
Visit important family sites—such as old homes, schools or cemeteries—and treat them with respect.
Pass down stories about your ancestors. I would add the importance of recording them.
Display (and share) family photos.
Gather and display family heirlooms in your home, cook old family recipes, or plant a heritage garden with flowers and vegetables your grandparents might have had in their gardens.
Create a calendar with birthdays of special ancestors.
Learn about an ancestor’s homeland, including the area’s history and traditions.
Index records at FamilySearch.org.
Keep a photo record of family traditions that you are creating now.
Preserve current and past family history with digital scrapbooks and blogs.
Attend family reunions and family organization meetings.

Yu stepped out of cram school onto the busy sidewalk. His head was full of math facts from his after-school class. People hurried by with umbrellas. Fat raindrops were falling fast, and the street was soaked.
Yu’s friend Lin stepped out beside him. “You should call your dad to pick you up,” Lin said. “Mr. Zhang says it’s flooding in some parts of the city.”
“I can get home on my own.”
“But look at all the water!” Lin said, pointing to the water flowing swiftly in the gutter.
For a moment, Yu had a funny feeling. Was Lin right? Maybe he should call Dad to drive him home before the streets flooded. But he and Dad had an argument last night, and Yu was still angry. He didn’t want to ask Dad for help.
Yu unchained his bike and said goodbye to Lin. If I pedal hard, he thought, I can make it home before the streets flood.
He pedaled hard, but soon his hands were cold, his clothes were soaked, and he was exhausted. Once again, the thought came to call Dad. Was the feeling from the Holy Ghost? The missionaries who baptized him had said that the Holy Ghost could be his guide. Yu glanced at the sky. It was so grey that he couldn’t see the tops of the buildings. But he was still mad at Dad.
Yu ignored the feeling and kept pedaling. The water got so high that shop owners closed their stores. People moved belongings to higher floors. Yu saw a mother pulling her two children through the flood in a little plastic boat.
With the water now past his ankles, Yu could no longer pedal his bike. He got off and pushed. It was probably too late to call Dad now, and the rain was still coming down. Thunder boomed and lightning flashed above him. Yu felt afraid. And he was so tired! He looked ahead. Home was still far away. He shouldn’t have ignored the Holy Ghost just because of a silly argument.
Yu stopped to say a short prayer. He couldn’t hear his voice above the rain and thunder, but he knew that Heavenly Father could hear him.
“Heavenly Father,” Yu prayed, “please help me get home safely.” When he finished, he felt strong enough to keep going.
At last, Yu could see his house on the hill. Cold, tired, and somehow missing a shoe, Yu trudged up the hill. He saw Dad waiting for him outside. Dad rushed down the hill to meet him, splashing water as he ran.
When Dad reached him, he put his arms around Yu. “I was so worried!” Dad said. “You should have called me!”
“I thought we were mad at each other,” Yu said.
“I am never too mad to help you,” Dad said. Then he took Yu’s bike and pushed it the rest of the way up the hill.
Even with thunder echoing between the tall buildings and heavy rain pelting down, a warm feeling filled Yu’s heart. He felt peace and safety as he followed Dad home.

Education is helping Christina Augerea from Hula, Papua New Guinea, accomplish her goals. Ever since she was little, she has had a love of reading and the goal of attending university. Her love of reading is what led her to the Church.

“When I was in fifth grade, we didn’t have books at my school,” she says. “My teacher was a Church member. She didn’t have other books, so she gave us the Book of Mormon.”
Years later, Christina served a mission in the Philippines and then started attending Brigham Young University–Hawaii, where she is working toward law school with a double major in political science and business administration and a minor in Mandarin.
Christina’s story came full circle after the COVID-19 pandemic forced her to return home. One day while visiting her village, she learned that the library at her primary school was infested with termites. With the help of local organizations and the Church, Christina oversaw the construction of a new library, with systems in place that will keep it running for many years.
As happy as she is that she was able to help her community, Christina explains that it took a lot of faith and work to get where she is now. “I know how it feels when you don’t have anything but you want to study,” she says. And through all her experiences, she has learned a lot about the value and purpose of education.
Our Church leaders often teach that it’s important to seek whatever education we can. “The Lord and His Church have always encouraged education to increase our ability to serve Him and our Heavenly Father’s children,” taught President Henry B. Eyring, Second Counselor in the First Presidency.2
But, as Christina shares, education is more than just sitting in a classroom. “One of my professors told us that learning is not just about getting grades, a certificate, or eventually a job. It’s about understanding concepts.” And in order for education to really make a difference in your life, what you learn has to become a part of you. “You have to love learning,” Christina adds.
There are many ways we can become educated. “We don’t just learn in school,” Christina says. “We also learn in the Church. We learn at home. We can learn everywhere.” As we take advantage of opportunities to expand our knowledge, we become more educated, and the process of learning becomes more central to our lives.
Christina testifies that knowledge is key to helping each of us “prepare to meet God” (Alma 34:32). “We can grow and reach our potential by learning,” Christina says. As we humbly seek knowledge, we become more like our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and prepare to live with Them again.
By unlocking our personal potential, education also increases our ability to serve others. President Russell M. Nelson said, “Education is the difference between wishing you could help other people and being able to.”3
This is one of the biggest blessings that Christina has seen from education. “Education gives me the confidence to know that I can teach skills to others,” she says. “Even teaching in the Church is a lot of responsibility. So having confidence to be able to teach the young women or youth is amazing.”
Gaining an education takes persistence and strength—but it’s possible. At first, Christina didn’t know how she would accomplish her goals. “I didn’t know where I would get the money,” she says. But Christina found that when you trust in God and seek His help, He will help you accomplish what He needs you to do.
“With all my dreams and plans, two things that I always asked Heavenly Father for was to teach me what I could do and how I could do it. And He never left me. He knew that there was something better for me, and He guided me. I knew all those times that Heavenly Father was with me and that He still is.”
And as we seek Heavenly Father’s help, He will bless us with opportunities to gain more education and knowledge.
Christina knows that gaining an education is worth the effort. “I would tell people who think that they can’t do it to remember the huge potential God has given us. We can unlock that potential by believing that He has given it to us.”

One day I was fasting because I was troubled by many difficulties, and I opened the July 2007 issue of the Liahona. I decided to read From the Life of President Spencer W. Kimball, the episode called “Resist Evil Influences,” which I don’t usually read because it is in the children’s section. This story helped me flee from the bad influences that surrounded me that day, and I was fortified by the message. I encourage everyone to read all the sections of the Liahona.
The Liahona is a light and a protection for me. It is the first tool I use to proclaim the gospel to my friends.
Arlette Azi, Ivory Coast

Kelley could not find Samuel’s wife. Kelley knew her name, but Samuel’s wife just wasn’t where she was supposed to be. It was like unraveling a mystery, and it was frustrating. “His wife had a nickname, and we had to get a special form for the census to get her record. Then we had to put their names in code before we asked for it. We would do these names in code, and then we were wrong, wrong, wrong.”
For a little while one Saturday afternoon in Anchorage, Alaska, Kelley Staats, a Beehive in the Anchorage Sixth Ward, got a taste of what doing family history was really like. Even though Kelley was having a hard time for a few minutes, she was actually having a great time figuring out how to find information from census, cemetery, immigration, and church records.

A true story from Australia.
It was snack time at school. Zoe grabbed her sandwich and walked to the table. The sunshine came through the window and shone down on her. It was a warm day, and Zoe felt happy.
Everyone was talking, and the classroom buzzed with the sound of happy children. A girl named Luna sat down nearby with her friend Jesse.
“You’re a Christian?” Zoe heard Luna ask Jesse.
Zoe felt her heart sink. Luna always said mean things! What would she say next? The whole classroom went quiet as they listened.
“I don’t believe in Jesus,” Luna said next.
One by one, lots of kids in Zoe’s class said the same thing.
Zoe’s heart was beating fast now. She wanted to have courage and say that she believed in Jesus Christ, but she was afraid of what would happen. What would everyone else think? Would she lose friends?
Suddenly she felt a warm, peaceful feeling. A thought came into her mind: Stand up for what you believe. I’ll protect you. Zoe knew it came from the Holy Ghost.
She took a deep breath. “I believe in Jesus Christ,” she said. “And I know He loves me. He loves you too, even if you don’t believe in Him.”
The warm feeling grew stronger and stronger. Zoe felt happiness growing inside her.
Soon, snack time was over, and it was time to play outside. Zoe skipped to the playground. Some of the kids in her class followed her.
“I liked what you said to Luna,” one girl said.
“Me too,” said another boy. “How can I believe in Jesus too?”
Zoe smiled. “You can go to church and read the scriptures to learn more about Him! And you can try hard to follow what He taught.”
Zoe was happy she had the courage to share her beliefs. She knew Jesus Christ would always be there to help her be brave.

A teachers quorum decided that to prepare for their missions, they would all learn the missionary lessons found in the missionary lessons in Preach My Gospel. Each month, as part of their class, they would practice teaching each other. But that wasn’t enough. They wanted to do more. They noticed an unbaptized young man whose mother was a member and another young man who had stopped coming to church. They decided to go teach the missionary lessons to these young men. How great was their joy when the nonmember boy was baptized and the less-active boy returned to activity and was ordained to the proper priesthood office.

“I’m going to enter Henry in the pet show tomorrow, Mom. I know he’ll win a prize. He’s the fattest dog on our block!” Then I began to wonder, and asked, “They do give a prize for the fattest dog, don’t they?”
“I don’t know, honey, but you’d better give him a bath before you take him anywhere. Or he’ll get a prize for being the smelliest dog.”
“Yeah, if I bathe him maybe he’ll get a prize for being the cleanest dog too!”
That afternoon as I began filling the plastic wading pool in the backyard with water from the hose, I couldn’t resist a couple of well-aimed shots at Henry. I guess that made him a little suspicious of what was about to happen, but he stood firm anyhow, eyeing me as I poured half a bottle of Mother’s Rose Bouquet bubble bath into the overflowing pool.
It was when I took my first step toward Henry that I realized he was not going to cooperate. “Come on, Henry,” I coaxed, the sugary tones in my voice making him all the more suspicious. “Nice doggie. No one’s going to hurt you.” I was getting closer. “Come on, boy.” Then I lunged at him but I only caught the end of Henry’s tail under my nose. He thought it was great fun and proceeded to lead a merry chase around the yard. On about the tenth lap, Henry cut across the porch and skirted past the pool. In hot pursuit, I clambered over the porch and was almost past the pool when I tripped over the hose and fell sideways into the “ocean” of perfumed bubbles.
I wasn’t fond of taking baths either, and I knew that I’d have to take another bath myself to get the smell of roses off me. Henry’s eyes seemed to twinkle with delight at having bathed his bather. But I was determined to get him to the pet show. So I outsmarted him!
I stepped out of the pool and fell to the ground. I didn’t move a muscle. Henry made a funny noise and slowly edged forward to investigate. He sniffed my shoes first, then my arms. When his cold nose touched my chin, I grabbed him! I held on tightly and both of us went into the bubbles this time. After we thrashed around in the suds for a couple of minutes, Henry was the first one out. He cowered near the fence and shimmied fiercely in an attempt to get as dry as possible. Then I rubbed him down with a towel. Just when I thought he was almost dry he shook himself again, and a fresh spray of water convinced me that he wasn’t.
Finally I brushed his coat, clipped his toenails, and cleaned his ears. He looked like a champ! I was so proud of him I could hardly wait until the next day to win the prize for having such a neat dog.
Dad drove Henry and me to the parking lot where the show was already in progress. Henry’s number was 103.1 guess I never realized how many other pets there were besides dogs. Birds, cats, monkeys, lizards, hamsters, rats, snakes, turtles, and even a baby alligator were there.
The dogs barked at each other, while the murmur of voices added to the confusion. Once in a while a loud voice shouted instructions over the noise, and the next contestants lined up in front of the judges with much jostling and commotion.
“We will now have the competition for the biggest animal here today. Please bring the big animals to the front,” the voice directed.
Henry was fat but not very big compared to the greyhounds, Great Danes, and German shepherds that were in the font row of the parking lot. A two-hundred-pound St. Bernard won in the large animal category. But there were lots more contests yet.
“OK, folks, now for the smallest animal here. Make room for the little fellows.”
Well, with hamsters and white mice in the competition, Henry didn’t have a chance, so we stayed to the rear again. Then they had the best-trained dog contest where the dog had to lead or walk beside its master and stop when its owner did. Henry didn’t qualify for that either.
Several events went by, and finally a voice announced the contest I hoped we’d win—the cutest dog competition. Well, Henry and I marched right up to the front row. My heart was beating fast as my excitement grew, but the judge handed the announcer a piece of paper with Number 26 written on it. I felt a little disappointed after the announcement, but we still had a chance for some of the other prizes.
A prize was given for the dog that did the best trick and the dog with the longest hair. Finally the last competition was announced—the best-groomed animal.
Well, I can’t believe my ears, I thought. They really do give a prize for the cleanest animal!
“OK, Henry, let’s go get ‘em,” I said triumphantly.
A cloud passed over the sun for a few seconds as we approached the front line. I decided to try standing a little farther away from the judge so his eyes might see Henry better as he went down the line. But after he had seen all the pets, he walked over to the announcer who said, “The winner is Minnie, a baby alligator. Her owner says she takes several baths a day.
Everyone cheered except me. I didn’t feel like being happy at all.
Henry and I headed for the car as the announcer gave away dog food and collars for prizes. Dad didn’t say anything on the way home. I think he knew how miserable I felt.
When he stopped the car in the driveway, I took Henry to the backyard. He scampered back and forth in an attempt to get a friendly game of chase started. I didn’t feel much like running, so I filled his water dish and trudged up the back steps.
As I opened the back door, I heard Mom rattling dishes in the kitchen sink.
“How did the pet show go?” she chirped. Mom always sounds happy. “Did you and Henry get a prize?”
I conjured up a smile and said, “Well, I think that those guys are nearsighted. I hope next year they get some judges who can see better.” My smile was wiggling into a frown, and I knew I better hurry to my room. I started down the hall when Mom called, “There’s something for you here on the table.”
I turned back and there was a colored ribbon with a medal that looked a lot like one of Dad’s old army medals and a card that said, “First prize to Henry for being the best dog in the world!” Beside it was a can of dog food for the winner and a cupcake for me.
It took me a minute to realize that what Mom had always tried to tell me was true. It doesn’t matter if other people can’t see the value in the same things you care about as long as you care and have deep feelings for something.
“Thanks, Mom,” I said. Then I bolted out the back door yelling, “Henry! We won! We won!” and he ran over to me. When we tired of playing chase, I dropped down, gave Henry a hug, and placed the winning ribbon around his neck.

My grandfather, Fa’alogo Tovia Fa’alogo, was a convert to the Church. Early in life he learnt about God and Jesus Christ while he was a member of the Congregational Christian Church. He passed away in 1960 aged 84, before I was born. I learnt about Grandfather from my father who took care of him, assisted by his siblings and family, until he passed away.
Grandfather learnt about the restored gospel of Jesus Christ from two missionaries. In his search for the truth, he came to know for himself that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was the kingdom of God on earth and that Joseph Smith was the Lord’s revelator, the instrument through which the gospel was restored. This he believed with all his heart. In time Grandfather was ordained to the Melchizedek Priesthood, office of elder.
In 1959, grandfather gifted to the Church, by way of declaration, part of the land belonging to the Faalogo (paramount chief) family title in the village of Paia, Savai’i. The declaration (pulefaamau) was published as required by law in Samoa’s national newspaper, called ‘Savali,’ in September 1959. The declaration was subsequently approved and registered by the Samoa Lands and Titles Court.
Part of the declaration published was “this piece of land has been set aside for religious matters and an area is made available as an access road to it for use by the congregation of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-days Saints, that they may use it every day as needed by that Church for religious matters.” (“ua tuueseina atu e ia lea fasi fanua mo Mataupu tau Lotu ma le avanoa o se ala e ui i ai ia aoga i le aulotu a le Ekalesia a Iesu Keriso o le Au Paia o Aso e Gata Ai ia faapea ona latou faaaogaina mo aso uma lava . . . e mana’omia pea ai e lena Ekalesia lea fasi fanua mo Mataupu tau lotu.”) Since that time, the Church has used that land for religious matters. It now has a ward worshipping there, using the chapel, teaching areas, a cultural hall and a playing court.
I believe Grandfather knew what The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints stood for and that it added great value to what he already knew about God the Eternal Father and His Only Begotten Son, Jesus Christ. His desire, as I learnt later, was not only to please and show his love for God but also for his family, village and community to be blessed, as well as those who may come to live there. He loved God, he loved the Church, he loved his family, and he loved his village and country. He gave up something good for something much, much better. He lived as he believed.
At the time of the declaration there were only three generations of his family in the Church, now there are six; many of them reside in foreign countries with their growing families, who serve the Lord in numerous capacities. They continue the legacy he left behind—to encourage their family to keep the two greatest commandments: love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and to love thy neighbour as thyself (see Matthew 22:37, 39).
Lastly, I learnt that when Grandfather made the declaration, well before a temple was ever dreamed of in Samoa, to my mind he was essentially practicing the law of consecration. That law we have come to know so well in our temple worship and in the scriptures—knowing that the earth and all it contains belongs to God, the Creator of heaven and earth. To return a portion of it for the establishment of His kingdom seems not a sacrifice but an acknowledgment of God’s love and an expression of greater appreciation for the people and the world around us. I know Grandfather saw the hand of God touching him and his family whilst he was still living.
Grandfather reminds me of Father Lehi, when he partook of the fruit and desired for his family to do likewise, to taste of the goodness of it and to hold fast to the iron rod (See 1 Nephi 8). I am eternally grateful for Grandfather’s faith in exercising his agency to choose the right when he heard the restored gospel message and accepted it, and then he did let the consequences follow, as in the words of Choose the Right:
Choose the right when a choice is placed before you.
In the right the Holy Spirit guides;
And its light is forever shining o’er you,
When in the right your heart confides.
Choose the right! Choose the right!
Let wisdom mark the way before.
In its light, choose the right!
And God will bless you evermore.1
Grandfather’s family and village have been abundantly blessed because of his faith and trust in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, and because of the righteous choices he made.

“Oh, no—my shirt’s ruined!” Emily cried. She pulled the still-warm shirt from the dryer. “Let me see,” her father said. He put down the pants he had been folding and took the shirt from Emily. “What’s wrong with it?” He held it out in front of him.
“Look at the stains, Daddy.” Emily pointed at the splotches of blue, green, and brown splattered across the front. “It’s ruined!”
“Well, it’s important to keep our clothes clean and spot-free,” her father agreed, “but it’s also good to have a ‘reminder shirt.’”
“A reminder shirt? What’s that?”
“A reminder shirt reminds us of everything we did on the days it was worn,” Daddy explained. “Do you remember when you wore this shirt, Emily?”
“Last Saturday.”
“Do you remember what we did that day?”
“Well, after lunch, I helped you paint the fence—with blue paint. That’s what those blue stains are!”
“I ended up with blue spots on my shirt, too,” Daddy said. “But we sure had fun painting that fence, didn’t we?”
“Yes! Later, you took me to the park, and you chased me until I fell down and slid across the grass on my tummy.”
“Grass stains.” Daddy pointed at the green streaks on the front of the shirt. “And then—”
“We went for ice cream! I had a double scoop of triple fudge. You had two scoops of mint. And you made me laugh so hard that I knocked one of my scoops off the cone.”
“So now you have chocolate stains.” Daddy handed the shirt back to Emily. “I think all the stains make the shirt better. Because of them, we’ll always remember the fun we had that day. That’s more important to me than any shirt.”
“Me, too, Daddy.” Emily slipped the shirt over her other shirt. “I’m going to wear my reminder shirt again.”
“You are?”
“Sure. I want to make some more memories. The mud in the backyard is wet and gooey today—just right for building mud castles! It will be a lot more fun if you’ll help me,” she coaxed.
“It sounds like I’d better put on my reminder shirt, too,” Daddy replied, allowing her to pull him toward the back door.
“Then our shirts will match even better! And that means that we’ll have had lots of fun together.”

Paul was looking for a book when someone pushed him into the shelf. The shelf wobbled, and several of the books almost fell. He turned around. Danny stood a few feet away, pretending to look for a book. He had his softball glove under his arm.
“Why did you do that?” Paul asked angrily.
Danny shrugged and started to walk away.
Paul caught him by the arm. “Why did you push me?”
“Don’t touch me,” Danny said, grabbing Paul’s arm.
Paul tried to pull his arm away, but Danny wouldn’t let go. They pushed and pulled until they both crashed into the shelf and fell, while books rained down on top of them.
“Paul, Danny, stop that right now,” the teacher said. “Stop fighting and pick up those books!”
“He started it,” Paul said as he stood up.
“Did not,” Danny said, still on the floor. He kicked at Paul’s leg from behind a desk where the teacher could not see.
“I don’t care how it started,” the teacher replied. “I want it stopped. Clean up that mess and go back to your desks. If I see you boys fighting again, I’ll send you both to the principal’s office.”
They picked up the books without looking at each other.
Paul sat at his desk with the book he’d picked out open in front of him, but he was too angry to read it. He looked over at Danny, who sat at his desk, picking at the stitching in his glove. Why was Danny out to get him all the time? Couldn’t the teacher see what was happening? Why did he have to get in trouble for something Danny did?
Paul felt miserable. He closed his eyes and whispered a prayer. “Heavenly Father, please bless me that Danny will get in trouble for bothering me, so he’ll leave me alone.”
He opened his eyes. He still felt miserable. Then he remembered the words to one of the songs he’d sung in Primary—“‘Jesus said love ev’ryone.’”*
Paul frowned. He didn’t want to hate Danny. But he didn’t want to love him either.
Recess came and his classmates started a softball game in the field. Paul stayed on a bench at the other end of the schoolyard. He had his softball glove in his backpack, but he didn’t want to play. Not if Danny was playing.
He looked down the field and noticed Danny wasn’t playing either. He sat at the edge of the field with his softball glove beside him.
Paul remembered the Primary song again—“‘Jesus said love ev’ryone.’”
His stomach twisted itself into a knot. He couldn’t go and talk to Danny. They’d get in another fight, and he’d be sent to the office. But as he thought of the words, “‘Jesus said love ev’ryone; treat them kindly too,’” he knew what he had to do.
Paul got up. He pulled his softball glove out of his backpack. He picked up one of the extra softballs and went over to Danny.
“Hi,” he said.
“What do you want?” Danny asked.
Paul held up the ball. “Do you want to play catch?”
Danny looked up at him for a moment. Then he picked up his glove. “OK.”
They started to toss the ball back and forth. Paul couldn’t throw very well, and said “sorry” every time he threw too short or too far to one side.
Danny didn’t complain. He just retrieved the ball and threw it back to him. He threw the ball better than Paul and didn’t miss as often, but after a while he started saying “sorry” as well whenever he threw it too far.
Paul didn’t feel miserable anymore. He started to relax and enjoy himself. He smiled. He knew that Heavenly Father had answered his prayer, just not the way he had thought he wanted.
When the bell rang and they had to stop, Paul noticed that Danny was smiling too. Paul hummed the Primary song to himself on his way back to class— “‘Jesus said love ev’ryone; treat them kindly too. When your heart is filled with love, others will love you.’”

I once ran in a Warrior Dash. A Warrior Dash is a 5k race with all kinds of obstacles mixed in—climbing ropes, wading through water, jumping over fire, and sliding through mud.

It was a lot of fun. In my heat, I was in the front with another guy when we got to the first obstacle—a 4-inch balance beam on an incline. I was a bit surprised when he ran around the beam while I teetered my way across. I felt a bit of vindication, though, when a course marshal told the guy he had to go back and do the obstacles.

“I have to do all the obstacles?” the guy asked, somewhat incredulously. “I just want to run!” [46]

So, when I hear of people complain about how restrictive the Honor Code is, or I see people openly rebelling against the Dress and Grooming standards, I think of that guy at the Warrior Dash who was upset he wasn’t able to make his own rules.

Paul uses another sports analogy to remind Timothy of this concept: “And if a man also strive for masteries, yet is he not crowned, except he strive lawfully.” [47] We only get the prize if we follow the rules of the contest.

I have shared before my memory of the first day I set out to practice healing. It was not quite 50 years ago—but close. I could hardly sleep the night before my first day as a nurse. I remember it so vividly. The spring air was cool, and the sun seemed unusually bright. Two conflicting feelings left my heart pounding. First, I felt courage and couldn’t wait to put that first tube into the first orifice. On the other hand, I was afraid that by sheer inexperience I would violate the promise to “do no harm.” As a student nurse I did not have the blessing of the computer-simulated patient that our students now have.

That first day I carefully pulled on my support hose, little white nylon dress, and ugly prescription shoes. My crowning glory was the starched white cap that held my long hair tucked tightly beneath. I couldn’t wait to handle the instruments, titrate the fluids, and perform the treatment procedures. I wanted to cure. I wanted to care. I wanted to heal.

I have learned a lot about healing since that day. I have learned that healing is a process of restoring and becoming whole.

Although Harold B. Lee was a master of seeing the big picture and coming up with creative and far-reaching solutions, he never lost sight of individuals. On Christmas day during his first year as stake president, he became distressed when his daughter went across the street to show her new doll to her friend and came back crying because the other little girl had received no gifts for Christmas, her daddy being out of work. He recalled, “For me it was a very difficult Christmas. I did not enjoy the dinner that I sat down to that day, because I, as stake president, had not become acquainted with the people in my stake.

“The next Christmas we made preparations. We made a survey, and we found that we had more than a thousand people who needed help during these difficult times. So we made ready by gathering toys and taking them to the old storehouse. Then the fathers and mothers came and helped fix the toys, putting them together, dressing dolls, and sewing things.

“We had oranges and apples. There was roast beef with all the trimmings for Christmas dinner. The bishops arranged to have it delivered to all the needy families, and then called to let me know that all had been visited.

“That year when I sat down to my Christmas dinner I felt I could enjoy it, because, as far as I knew, every family in my stake was having a good Christmas.”

Recently I heard from a teenaged friend, Jami Palmer, whom I have known for a number of years. When she was 12, she was diagnosed with cancer. She underwent grueling and painful treatments for many months. Today she is bright, beautiful, and looking to the future with confidence and with faith.

In one of her darkest hours, when any future appeared somewhat grim, she learned that she must undergo months of chemotherapy, followed by an 11-hour surgery to save her leg. A long-planned hike with her Young Women class up to Timpanogos Cave was out of the question—she thought. Jami told her friends they would have to undertake the hike without her. Surely there was a catch in her voice and disappointment in her heart. But then the other young women responded emphatically, “No, Jami. You are going with us!”

“But I can’t walk,” came the anguished reply.

“Then, Jami, we’ll carry you to the top!” And they did.

The hike is now a memory, but in reality it is much more. James Barrie, the Scottish poet, declared, “God gave us memories, that we might have June roses in the December of our lives.” None of those precious young women will ever forget that memorable day when, I am confident, a loving Heavenly Father looked down with a smile of approval and was well pleased.

Today Jami is an accomplished pianist, vocalist, and athlete. She is an officer and spokesperson for the Make-A-Wish Foundation.

Like every mayor, Lindsay Anderson had to deal with the headaches of bureaucracy, endless meetings, and special-interest groups. Unlike other mayors, Lindsay had to do it all after school let out for the day.
West Bountiful, Utah, the town Lindsay calls home, is also home to a unique program that puts the youth of the town in the driver’s seat of city government. In order to give the youth an experience in leadership, the city council appoints a youth mayor and city council. Although the town has another, adult mayor, the youth mayor and council are responsible for activities and programs for the youth of West Bountiful. They also give their input and ideas to the regular city council.
“We hold meetings about every other week, and we plan for upcoming holidays like dances for the youth and Easter egg hunts for the little kids.”
Lindsay and her council have also begun work on ideas to help youth at risk, brainstorming ideas to help teenagers stay involved in positive activities. One successful program that is already in place is the West Bountiful Fourth of July dance.
“It’s great because we get such a huge response to the dance,” says Lindsay. “It’s a place to come and have a good time and stay out of trouble.”
As youth mayor, and before that as a member of the youth city council, Lindsay has learned a lot about how to manage people without stifling their creativity.
“During meetings it was hard to get everyone quiet, but that was kind of neat because they were all talking about their ideas. I’m not a shy person, but I don’t like to dominate people, so I like to be receptive to their ideas. That’s fun.”
Lindsay finds her inspiration in the two individuals she admires most: her father and Jesus Christ.
“My dad is a role model for sure. I love him. Also I learned that Jesus had a whole group of people to bring together. He taught by example and love. Like him, I hope that if I’m doing the right thing, people will follow in my footsteps.”
After a year in office, Lindsay has stepped down from her position, making way for a new youth mayor. As a Latter-day Saint, Lindsay believes in “obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law” (A of F 1:12). With a year of government experience under her belt, Lindsay may someday not only uphold the law; she may have a hand in making it.

I recently heard Jenny’s story. She is a returned missionary whose parents divorced while she was serving her mission. She told how the thought of returning home “scared [her] to death.” But at the end of her mission to Italy, as she stopped in the mission home on her way home to the United States, a certain woman, the mission president’s wife, tenderly ministered to her simply by brushing her hair.

Years later, another certain woman, Terry—a stake Relief Society president and disciple of Jesus Christ—blessed Jenny’s life when Jenny was called as a ward Relief Society president. At that time, Jenny was working on her dissertation for her doctoral degree. Not only did Terry serve as a mentor to Jenny as a leader, but she also sat with her for 10 hours at the hospital when Jenny received the alarming diagnosis of leukemia. Terry visited the hospital and drove Jenny to appointments. Jenny confessed, “I think I may have thrown up several times in her car.”

Despite her illness, Jenny continued to serve valiantly as the ward Relief Society president. Even in her extremity, she made phone calls and sent texts and emails from her bed, and she invited sisters to come see her. She mailed cards and notes to people, loving her sisters from a distance. When her ward requested a photograph of her presidency for their ward history, this is what they got. Because Jenny is a certain woman herself, she invited all to share others’ burdens, including her own.

As a certain woman, Jenny testified: “Not only are we here to save others but to save ourselves. And that salvation comes from partnering with Jesus Christ, from understanding His grace and His Atonement and His feelings of love for the women of the Church. That happens through things as simple as brushing someone’s hair; sending a note with an inspired, clear, revelatory message of hope and grace; or allowing women to serve us.”9

Our family has six children, who sometimes tease one another that they are the favourite child. Each has different reasons for being preferred. Our love for each of our children is pure and fulfilling and complete. We could not love any one of them any more than another—with each child’s birth came the most beautiful expansion of our love. I most relate to my Heavenly Father’s love for me through the love that I feel for my children.
As they each rehearse their claims to be the most loved child, you might have thought that our family had never had an untidy bedroom. The sense of blemishes in the relationship between parent and child is diminished with a focus on love.
At some point, perhaps because I can see that we are heading toward an inevitable family riot, I’ll say something like, “OK, you have worn me down, but I am not going to announce it; you know which one of you is my favourite.” My goal is that each one of the six feels victorious and all-out war is avoided—at least until next time!