Gospel Story Finder

The decision by Nephi and his brothers to place their trust in the things of the world proved to be no more successful than leaving it to chance. I was talking to a father while attending a stake conference. He was telling me about the pressures on his teenage daughter to follow the ways of the world, and how she had made the decision not to allow those pressures to influence her life.

She was the only member of the Church in her class in school. She was a popular young lady with the boys, and had many opportunities to go out on dates. The boys in her class did not live by the standards she had been taught in our Church. She made the decision to tell every boy who asked her for a date what standards she lived by. If she were to date them, they would be expected to conduct themselves in accordance with her standards. She would get such a commitment from them before she accepted a date. One day the big campus football hero came up to her before the most special dance of the year and said, “You know, I would ask you to go to the dance with me if you would lower your standards just a little.”

There was no hesitation in her voice as she replied, “If I would go out with you, I would be lowering my standards.” Be strong enough to make your decisions to not follow worldly ways.

Wilford Woodruff, the fourth president of the Church, was baptized on December 31, 1833, in New York after hearing the preaching of two of the elders of the Church. He was 26 years old. The next spring he was part of Zion’s Camp. After the march of Zion’s Camp from Kirtland to Missouri, Joseph directed that Wilford and other single men in the company remain in Missouri to help build Zion. While in Missouri, Wilford yearned to serve a mission. He went into the woods and prayed that the way might be opened for him to be called to preach the gospel. He states, “Before I arose from my knees, the spirit of the Lord rested upon me and bore witness that my prayer was heard and should be answered upon my head.” He arose from his prayer and walked from the woods to the road, where he encountered Judge Elias Higbee, a faithful high priest in the Church, who said, “Brother Wilford, the spirit of the Lord tells me that you should be ordained to go and preach the gospel” (quoted in Matthias F. Cowley, Wilford Woodruff: History of His Life and Labors [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1964], 46–47). A few days later he was ordained a priest and, having been a member of the Church less than one year, started on his mission to the southern states.

Then one day in the spring, we found Bimbo stretched out in the backyard as though he were dead. Does he have scarlet fever? I wondered. On the way to see the veterinarian, I remember praying as hard as I could that Bimbo wouldn’t die. The veterinarian told us our dog had been poisoned and would have to stay in the hospital for several days. Later when we took Bimbo home, we gave him love and attention and continued to pray for him. Our prayers were answered and he did recover.

Years later, I remembered this experience while thinking about our struggles with infertility. We had experienced three miscarriages and a failed adoption and undergone many different medical procedures. I felt similar emotions to those my husband had experienced on our run years before—I was tired and wanted to stop running.
In our infertility journey, my husband and I would see a figurative stop sign ahead and think we had finally reached the point where we could add a child to our family. But every time we came to a stop, we would be told we needed to run to the next sign, followed by another, and another.
We had tried to be prayerful and seek the Lord’s guidance in each step of the process, but we still found ourselves waiting on another adoption opportunity or pregnancy miracle. I felt discouraged, like we were being asked to run an endless marathon with few results.
I didn’t know how much farther I could make myself go.
One morning, I was studying a general conference talk by President Russell M. Nelson in which he invited us to make repentance a lifetime pursuit.1 As I read his words, I recognized that I had let my discouragement and disappointment cloud my faith in Heavenly Father, and that despite the roadblocks and setbacks, He was guiding me and my husband.
I prayed and asked Him to forgive me for losing some of my hope and faith in Him. I asked Him what my focus should be during my “run” with this infertility trial.
I was immediately reminded of the importance of having gratitude in all of life’s circumstances. I realized that I had been so caught up in the run with infertility that I didn’t see all I had to be grateful for—time with my husband; a healthy mind and body; and most importantly, a Savior who loves me, who wants the best for me, and who knows how both my husband and I feel about this struggle.
As I pondered my blessings, I realized that throughout this time of waiting and running, we had seen so many blessings and truly had an incredibly joyful life. Changing my perspective from “When will this run be over?” to “Look at all the good around me!” helped me to better recognize God’s hand and find the patience, faith, and hope to keep going.
I would love to say that we have reached the last stop sign and the end of our infertility journey, but we are still moving ahead and allowing the Lord to guide us.
I’ve recognized that I shouldn’t be waiting for the end to see the good in my life. I can see God’s goodness and trust in Him even without being able to see the why behind this trial or how it will end.
No matter how far this run with infertility or any other trial takes me, I’m determined to be a better follower of my Savior by being grateful in my circumstances, exercising faith, and trusting that good things are coming.

A true story from Ghana.
Nyamedo ran to the bus with his little brother, Kwame. They climbed the steps and sat next to a window. Nyamedo looked outside to see the sun shining on the green trees. Their school was going on a field trip to a nature reserve. Today would be an adventure!
“Hey, Nyamedo!”
Nyamedo’s friends Ralph and Sierra sat down on the seat across from him.
Ralph tugged at Nyamedo’s sleeve and whispered. “When we get to the park, let’s go exploring!”
“Yeah!” Sierra said. “We can have our own adventure.”
Ralph nodded excitedly. “We can sneak away before the first activity.”
Nyamedo imagined all the things they might see in the wilderness. Tall trees, cool animals, and maybe waterfalls!
“That sounds fun! Let’s do it,” he said with a smile.
When the bus pulled up to the nature reserve, Nyamedo and Kwame got off the bus together. Their teachers told everyone to stay with the group and not wander off.
Ralph walked up to Nyamedo. “Remember the plan?” Ralph whispered.
Nyamedo nodded. But then he stopped to think. Exploring the wilderness sounded exciting, but Nyamedo also knew it could be dangerous. What if they got lost or hurt?
Suddenly, he felt a voice speak to him. Stay with Kwame.
The voice was still and small. Nyamedo knew it was the Holy Ghost.
He was worried that his friends would be mad at him for not exploring with them. But maybe the Holy Ghost was protecting him.
Nyamedo turned to Ralph. “Sorry, I actually have to stay with my brother,” he said. “He’s my responsibility.”
Ralph frowned.
“But you said you’d come!”
“The teacher said we should stay,” Nyamedo said. Ralph sighed and walked away.
Nyamedo and Kwame went with the rest of the students and followed their teachers. First they went on the zipline. The wind rushed against their faces as they soared over the bright green trees. It was like flying!
Next the guides at the reserve taught them about some of the animals that lived there. Nyamedo and Kwame couldn’t wait to see them. They learned about zebras, monkeys, snakes, antelope, and lots of birds! After seeing all the cool animals, they went rock climbing and horseback riding. Later they played games.
Nyamedo was happy he had stayed back with Kwame. If he hadn’t, he would have missed out on so many fun things!
When it was time to get back on the bus, Nyamedo saw Ralph and Sierra. They ran up to him.
“We almost got chased by angry monkeys,” Ralph whispered. He looked a little scared. “We could’ve gotten hurt.”
Sierra nodded. “It’s good you didn’t come.”
“Whoa,” said Nyamedo. “I’m glad you’re OK!”
The Holy Ghost really was protecting me, he thought. He held Kwame’s hand as they got onto the bus together.
He was grateful that the Holy Ghost had kept them safe and helped them have a fun adventure.
Illustrations by Cam Kendall

President Hunter has always been a man of great resolution. On 7 February 1993, he was on the Brigham Young University campus to speak at a nineteen-stake fireside and Church Educational System broadcast. As President Hunter rose to address the nearly twenty thousand young adults assembled in the Marriott Center, an assailant threatened him, shouting, “Stop right there!” The man claimed to have a bomb and a detonator and ordered everyone to leave the stand except President Hunter. Many people did leave, yet President Hunter resolutely stayed at the pulpit, with two security guards. Although threatened by what looked like a gun, President Hunter firmly declined to read the written statement the man handed to him. When students spontaneously began to sing “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet,” the assailant was momentarily distracted. A security guard rushed him and took him into custody. Other security guards lowered President Hunter to the floor for safety.

There was, of course, a considerable commotion in the audience, but soon a reasonable calm returned. After a few moments to collect himself, President Hunter made a second approach to the microphone and read the opening line of his prepared text: “Life has a fair number of challenges in it.” He stopped, looked over the audience, and added, “As demonstrated.” Then he went on with his message as though nothing had happened.

It was my privilege just over a month ago to dedicate the Gilbert Arizona Temple, a magnificent structure. The evening before the dedication, a cultural event was held at the nearby Discovery Park. Twelve thousand young people performed a 90-minute program. The dancing, the singing, and the musical performances were outstanding.
This area had been experiencing an especially dry season, and I believe many prayers had been sent heavenward over the preceding several weeks for much-needed rain. Unfortunately, it came just before the performance and stayed for the entire production! Despite the fact that the youth were soaked through with the rain and chilled from the cool temperature, we all felt the Spirit of the Lord. The theme of the program, “Live True to the Faith”—think about that: “Live True to the Faith”—was portrayed magnificently by smiling and enthusiastic young men and young women. Despite the cold and the rain, this was a faith-filled and inspiring experience these young people will ever treasure and will be relating to their children and grandchildren in the years to come.

When Heber J. Grant was a young man, he worked for an insurance agent, Mr. H. R. Mann. He treated Heber like a son.
Mr. Mann: Heber, why don’t you go to the baseball game this afternoon and then come tell me about it during supper?
Heber: Thanks, Mr. Mann!
Besides working for Mr. Mann, Heber earned money writing greeting cards and wedding invitations. He stayed at the office late into the evening, spreading his greeting cards on his large office desk to let the ink dry.
On New Year’s Eve, Mr. Mann’s partner, Mr. Wadsworth, found Heber still busy at the office writing greeting cards.
Mr. Wadsworth: Heber, what on earth are you doing?
Heber: Getting my cards ready to sell tomorrow.
Mr. Wadsworth: You are the only one I’m going to give a New Year’s present to. You seem to enjoy work while most of the other boys watch the clock to see how soon they can leave.
Heber: Wow! A hundred dollars?
Heber later said that knowing he had earned the confidence of his employer meant much more to him than the money. It inspired him to succeed in business and in the community.
As prophet, he taught young people to be hard workers, too.
Heber: Be inspired with a desire to labor and learn, and you will achieve success in the battle of life.

As a young father, sealed in the temple and with my heart turned to my wife and a young family, I met President Joseph Fielding Smith for the first time. In the First Presidency council room, where I had been invited, came an absolutely sure witness to me as President Harold B. Lee asked me, indicating President Smith, who was sitting next to him, “Do you believe that this man could be the prophet of God?”
President Smith had just entered the room and had not yet spoken a word. I am eternally grateful that I was able to answer because of what came down into my heart, “I know he is,” and I knew it as surely as I knew the sun was shining that he held the priesthood sealing power for all the earth.
That experience gave his words great power for me and my wife when, in a conference session on April 6, 1972, President Joseph Fielding Smith gave the following counsel: “It is the will of the Lord to strengthen and preserve the family unit. We plead with fathers to take their rightful place as the head of the house. We ask mothers to sustain and support their husbands and to be lights to their children.”

“When I got married,” says Consolacion Pilobello of Pasay City, Philippines, “I didn’t know how to cook, and I was too superstitious to go to a doctor and get prenatal care. Our first baby died.”
She begins to cry. “If only I had been a member of the Church then, we could have saved that baby!”
After baptism, she learned in Relief Society about water purification, sanitation, nutrition, first aid, and immunizations. “I learned how to take care of my children, myself, and my family,” she says. Her next seven babies were healthy. She is now ward homemaking leader—teaching what she has learned. (See Tambuli, September 1991, pages 11–12.)

A week passed and he had been able to keep his secret. But now he was in the Lutheran church, last on a bench, seated with others his age. His mother and father were also there, sitting on the front row in the middle of the church, a place of honor reserved for parents on confirmation day. At 14, members of the Lutheran Church are considered ready for full membership. On confirmation day they appear before a congregation and answer questions on the Lutheran catechism asked by the pastor.
Christian knew he couldn’t lie about his beliefs; he had to tell the truth.
At last it was his turn. He stood up from the bench and walked toward the pastor. His father was smiling with pride. Christian’s legs felt weak and his mind clouded with confusion. The church was full, and he felt everyone’s eyes upon him.
The pastor’s voice high and loud, echoed in the church.
“Do you believe in God?” it chanted.
“Yes,” Christian’s voice was small. He whispered a prayer.
“Can you describe God?” the voice asked.
There was a vast silence in the great building. Christian felt as if the world were watching and listening. Then, a clearness and strength came from within. His voice was strong and clear.
“God is not a being without body, parts, or passions; and he does not sit on the top of a topless throne. God is a good, kind, Heavenly Father, who hears and answers prayers, and man is made in the image of God.”
For the first time in the service the pastor looked up, his eyes wide and questioning. Christian turned and looked at his father. He saw a face that was stone hard.
The pastor continued the questioning, and Christian answered according to his new beliefs.
The pastor finished the changed catechism questions, looked solemnly at Christian and in a hiss of voice said, “You answer as if you were a Mormon.”
“And if I do, I’m proud of it,” Christian replied.
Christian’s father, Hans Monson stood. He glared angrily at Christian, slammed the tip of his oak cane heavily against the wood floor, turned, and walked from the building, his cane cracking loudly with each step.
That night Christian received the beating from his father that he had expected for days. After that, with the help of his mother, he was able to avoid his father for several days. Then one evening while he was bringing wood into the house and stacking it near the fireplace, his father came into the room.
There was a moment of terrible silence. Hans Monson, a thick-chested man, a woodcutter by trade, suddenly struck at the boy with his cane. Christian avoided most of the blows that followed, but whenever the cane reached him, it caused a painful welt on h is flesh.
Out of breath Hans Monson stopped, his muscles tense and his blonde hair wet with perspiration. Christian, feeling faint, stood. His face was pale.
“Father, I know it’s wrong for me to disobey you. I’m sorry for that, but I m not sorry for what I did. I know it was right, and I’m not afraid to be beaten for the gospel, for truth.”
Breathing heavily Hans grabbed a large piece of wood from the fireplace stack and threw it. He threw wood at Christian until the stack was gone; then he opened the door and told Christian to get out.
“There’s no room here for a Mormon devil,” he shouted as Christian left. The door slammed. That was the last Christian would see of his father.
The night air was biting cold. Christian felt weak, overpowered by pain, confusion, and a terrible sense of loss. He still felt love and respect for his father. He staggered to the barn and fell on a pile of oat straw.
Later in the night Christian felt a soft hand touch his shoulder. His mother sat next to him on the straw.
“Why? Why did you have to do it, Christian?” she asked. Her voice was full of tears.
“I studied it, and I prayed about it. I know it’s true,” he answered, feeling strength in his own words. “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen. I cannot deny what I know to be true. It would be like denying Christ, our Savior. I could never do that, no matter how much it hurt.”
In the cold, musty darkness of the barn, they talked until the pearl-gray light of dawn came. Christian felt the warmth of a bond between him and his mother tighten stronger than it had ever been; it grew into something he would remember all of his life, a memory that would warm him and give him strength. In the gray, sullen light he saw a bright tear roll down her face. She held him tight and warm knowing she would never see her son again, at least not in this life.
She stood suddenly and walked into the house. Christian picked up the bundle of food she had brought him and began walking toward the city of Drammen. The elders had told him there were other Mormons there. Light, powder flakes of snow were falling silently on the road.

In her book My Grandfather’s Blessings, Dr. Rachel Remen tells of becoming good friends with a couple and their young son, Kenny. When she visited, she would sit on the floor with Kenny and play with his two Hot Wheels cars. Sometimes she would have the one without a fender and he had the one with a door missing and sometimes vice versa. He loved those cars!

When a gas station chain offered a Hot Wheels car with every fill-up, she recruited the staff at her clinic to go to that particular station and collect the cars. As soon as she had all of the models, she wrapped them in a big box to take to Kenny. She hoped she wouldn’t offend his parents, who lived quite meagerly. Kenny excitedly opened the big box and took out the cars one by one. They filled the windowsills and even extended to the floor. What a collection! Later, while visiting the family, Rachel noticed Kenny just staring out the window. When she asked Kenny, “What’s the matter? Don’t you like your new cars?” he looked down very sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I guess I just don’t know how to love so many Hot Wheels.” (See “Owning” [2000], 60–61.)

When I was in college, I was a member of the BYU International Folk Dancers. One summer our group had the unique privilege to tour the missions in Europe. It was a difficult summer for me because a few months earlier my father had unexpectedly passed away. While we were in Scotland, I felt especially alone and became discouraged. We danced at a chapel that night, and then after our performance we went next door to the mission home. As I proceeded up the walk, I saw a stone placed in a well-kept garden by the gate. On it I read the words, “What-e’er thou art, act well thy part.” At that moment those words went deeply into my heart, and I felt the powers of heaven reach out and give me a message. I knew I was known by a loving Heavenly Father. I felt I was not alone. I stood in that garden with tears in my eyes. “What-e’er thou art, act well thy part.” That simple statement renewed my vision that Heavenly Father knew me and had a plan for my life, and the spirit I felt helped me understand that my part mattered.

Upon completing my bachelor’s degree in math education, I was hired to teach part-time in the math department at BYU-Idaho. I felt so blessed, and it truly met the needs of my family. Before long, I received a prompting to get my master’s degree. I began investigating master’s programs in math. It made sense. The twist came when I had a strong feeling to go into a technology field! Wait! I loved math. I loved numbers. I loved teaching. Where in the world would a master’s in technology land me? I looked into a program and knew I would hate it. I knew very little about technology, and programming terrified me. I wanted a master’s in math. Even though the math degree would require a three-hour commute, and the technology degree was conveniently online, I still wanted to study math. After a lengthy wrestle with my desire versus the prompting, I humbled myself and decided to trust in the Lord.

Trusting the promptings that I had received about pursuing a technology degree and relying on God’s power meant that I had to put aside doubts and fears about my abilities to learn it. I needed to trust the direction I was receiving and trust in God’s power to help me succeed.

I chose to enroll in the technology program, and access to the Savior’s power was exactly what I needed. Because of my busy life and many responsibilities, I usually did my schoolwork late at night. Some nights I was frustrated, overwhelmed, and discouraged. I thought that I would never use what I was learning. Why was I killing myself to learn this stuff? My tired brain couldn’t handle any more! I persevered, and with God’s help, I made it through—one class at a time.

This scripture in Helaman certainly held true for me: “We can see that the Lord in his great infinite goodness doth bless and prosper those who put their trust in him.”

I had no idea when I was prompted to go back to school, and then again prompted to get a master’s degree, that a few years later I would become a single parent. However, the Lord knew, and in His infinite goodness He provided the safety net that my family needed. The timing of my promptings and what I was guided to do didn’t make sense at the time. But as I put my trust in the Lord, accessed His power, and followed the plan He had for me, He greatly blessed my life. He positioned me right where I needed to be, when I needed to be there, so that I was able to obtain a great job to support my family.

One of my favorite parts of being a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is making new friends. I love the opportunity to meet new people of my faith. I love going to seminary, but when I first started, I felt left out. I was the youngest student, and everyone else knew each other. They didn’t speak to me very often. I was secretly battling low self-esteem, but I prayed, and I really felt God’s love for me. I made a goal to get to know the other students better, and I actually came to know how much they cared about me. I know that God wants us to grow and have meaningful relationships. He has provided ways for us to do that through the programs of the Church.

While the decisions we make determine our course, we can revise that course by choosing to repent of our sins. As we change our path and seek forgiveness, the Savior’s infinite Atonement makes it possible for us to ultimately feel peace. One reader shares her feelings about finding the Lord’s peace:
“I am a young woman, 17 years old. I was baptized when I was 11. When I turned 14, I started dating a boy who was not a member of the Church and I became less-active. I did things that were wrong, and I felt dirty. I could not forgive myself, and I thought the Lord would not forgive me either.
“One day I saw two missionaries. For some reason, I felt the desire to pray again. I went home and offered a prayer to Heavenly Father. Then I got out my Book of Mormon and began to read. That Sunday I went to church and heard one of the missionaries bear his testimony. His words filled me with a desire to obtain a true testimony.
“As I prayed, read the scriptures, and fasted, I came to know the gospel is true, and I was filled with sorrow for what I had done. I told my branch president everything. I was so ashamed I felt my heart had shattered. He called a disciplinary council, and I was placed on probation.
“One night I read about Alma’s conversion in Alma 36:15–21. Tears filled my eyes. I knelt down and said: ‘Lord, free me from my sins as You did Alma. I know You can forgive my sins by the power of the atoning blood of Jesus Christ.’ At that moment, I felt a great power in my body. Among the tears on my face was a smile of joy. I felt, as did Alma, an exquisite joy.
“When my probation ended, my branch president called me to serve as secretary of the Young Women, branch music director, and a Primary teacher. I know Jesus Christ atoned for our sins and wants us to repent and return to Him.”

I did not want to be at Young Women camp last year. Three weeks earlier my grandpa had passed away, and I just wanted to be alone and away from everyone. By the time we got there, I felt like I shouldn’t have come.
However, on the first day, our ward had a devotional that I’ll never forget. One of the older young women spoke about finding joy. At first I rolled my eyes. How could I find joy if there was none?
But then she said something I had never thought about: When it feels like we can’t find joy anywhere else, we can find it in the Savior. Sometimes our mortal lives are filled with grief, depression, anger, trials, and constant uphill battles. Sometimes it is hard to find joy except in Him.
Although my girl’s camp experience was not perfect, I did find joy. I found it by turning to the Savior—in the scriptures, in nature, and in quiet moments where I could pray to Heavenly Father. This principle has gotten me through many trials since. I’m so grateful for the knowledge that the perfect love of the Savior can reach us even when we feel there is no joy.
Elise B., Missouri, USA

I know this might sound strange, but I have been saving money to pay for my mission since before I was born. When my mother learned she was going to have a baby, she took an empty milk can, put a hole in it, and labeled it, “Mission Fund.” Since that day, my family and I have been saving for my mission.
Saving for my mission has been a family effort. After I was born, my uncles and aunts who came to visit would drop Philippine pesos into the mission fund can. And when holidays like Christmas or New Year’s came around, family members gave me money to add to my mission fund.
Sometimes my grandparents give me money for doing well in school and competitions. These gifts go to my mission fund too. Once, when I received several medals, my aunt counted all the medals I earned and gave me money for each one. After I paid tithing, this money also went into my mission fund.
When I was baptized, my desire to serve a mission grew even more. My family set a goal to save enough money to pay for my mission in full. Because I now have siblings, money we save is added to their mission funds too.
I am now nine years old and almost halfway to the age I will be when I serve my mission. My desire to serve a mission has increased because I know there have been so many people who have contributed to my mission fund.
I will continue to save for my mission. I know that Heavenly Father will bless me so that I can serve Him as a missionary one day.

Meagan Hansen (15) remembered the first time her family took him walking at the track. “There is a chain that prevents people from driving cars onto the track. My Dad asked Fernando, ‘How do you get over that?’ ‘I jump,’ he answered. Dad gave him a look, and Fernando said, ‘Seriously.’ So we wheeled him up to the chain and waited to see what he would do. He just lifted the chain up and rolled under it.”

Conner Hansen (8) said, “Sometimes I think my problems are really bad, but when I look at Fernando’s problems, I don’t complain.”

The Hansens add, “No matter what comes up, we don’t miss walking with Fernando. He’s amazing! He helps us keep an eternal perspective. It’s the best thing we do each month.”

Fernando works hard every single day to improve. “I always believed I would get better. I just take it one day at a time.”

“In time he will get better,” Talmage Hansen (11) declared. “He believes it, and so do I.”

Having so many friends in the ward who love and help him, and knowing that he is an invaluable influence in their lives, has helped Fernando continue trying. His strong spirit and testimony have spiritually strengthened those who have helped him strengthen his physical body.

Fernando may have to wait to serve a full-time mission, but he is touching the lives of the Primary children in his ward right now by his example of faith, patience, and trust in the Lord. And they are touching his with their patience, love, and service. “I hope that the children know that they really can help others,” he said.

A musical play written by Pat Davis and Dean Murdock, presented by the service and activities committee, illustrated the problems faced by both youths and advisers when it comes to planning activities.
Bill Harrington, a priests group leader, planned to spend Saturday with his girl friend Leslie Ann until he remembered his assignment to plan an activity for Tuesday night. (“There goes today. My Saturday down the tube. Tomorrow’s Sunday and church, and Monday is school and family night, and zap, it’s Tuesday. Today’s the only day left.”)
But a friend offers an easy way out.
“The solution’s a snap. There’s no need to go bananas. Just turn the whole thing over to the service and activities committee people.”
Bill and his friends decide to assign their three advisers fried chicken, potato salad, and 14 gallons of lemon-lime slush. They consider their planning for Tuesday complete.
When alone Bill admits that “lately I just go around in circles.” He sings of living on a merry-go-round, and wishes “before my life’s through, please can’t I be blessed with nothing to do?”
Meanwhile the advisers have gone to the bishop. They don’t recall any prior plans for a “cook out/ sing out next Tuesday night to be held on the lawn of the State Capitol.” The priests adviser remembers another activity involving a “bowling party at 3:00 A.M., and then the Explorer Bake-off contest, with the smallest cookies being three feet in diameter.”
The advisers feel that young people don’t know how to have fun anymore, and they suggest a return to the “good old days” of 1942 and argyle socks, Ellery Queen, jitter-bugging, the Andrew Sisters, and dances that had “dignity.” One recalls his first roadshow: “I was an onion in the garden of love … or was it an artichoke?”
But the bishop points out that there is room for both the experience of the advisers and the enthusiasm and desires of the youths. He tells the adults: “You people are resource people. It’s through you that these young folks can obtain specialists to assist with their projects. lt’s up to you to subtly and gently lead our youth to the realization that service comes before activity. Your job is twofold—to help carry out plans, but also to help make plans. When working with youth, you people can be partners, equals, and friends, rather than worrying about the importance of your role.”
With the advisers put at ease the bishop turns his attention to Bill, who confesses that “this time I really blew it. I just remembered your saying that the service and activities committee people were there to help us, and I guess I didn’t bother to read the exact points of contact you gave me to follow. I forgot I was supposed to go through my adviser.”
The bishop tells Bill of the examples of other youths who have had to face up to situations that seemed overwhelming—David against Goliath, Joseph and his brothers, Joseph Smith and his New York neighbors. “Bill, we’re not asking you to exceed the best of these brethren. We’re asking you to equal the best of yourself. And if you try, I promise that you will see some of those whose abilities and talents you admire running behind you trying to catch up. But remember, there are no shortcuts.”
Bill meets with the members of the service and activities committee and his adviser. Together they work out a feasible plan for Tuesday’s activity. He presents the idea of a box-lunch supper exchange involving the entire ward to his friends, who agree with his suggestion that they provide the entertainment.
After congratulating Bill on the outcome of the evening, the bishop reminds him that “no one ever achieved true greatness without a few setbacks. The really great ones kept on trying and never gave up.”
“That’s true,” adds a member of the service and activities committee, “men like Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln, Sebastian Webber.”
“Sebastian Webber?” asked one youth. “I never heard of him.”
“Exactly, he gave up.”