Gospel Story Finder

Every day at school four-year-old Brandon looked out for Jonathan, an autistic classmate. He helped Jonathan line up for recess. In the classroom, he would often find Jonathan’s crayons and paper for him. One day the teacher told Brandon’s mother about Brandon’s unusual kindness. Later the mother shared the teacher’s observations with her son and asked him why he was so kind. Brandon looked at his mom in disbelief that she would have to ask a question with such an obvious answer: “Why, Mom, Jonathan is my friend, and he would get lost if I didn’t help.” To Brandon, Jonathan was not a child who was different; he was a friend.

A few years ago, I didn’t talk to anyone outside of my family, my five or six close friends, and maybe a few acquaintances. None of my friends were girls, and the friends I did have were very similar to me. I wouldn’t talk to girls because I was scared of them. I didn’t want to talk to anyone different from me. I didn’t know how to carry on a conversation if our interests weren’t the same.
That summer, I went to my first FSY conference. I tried not to talk to the girls in my company for the first two days because I didn’t know how. But eventually they started to talk to me and be friends with me, and I realized they were nice.
At the beginning of my next school year, I got “peer-pressured” into going to my first school dance. I asked a girl who I had sort of talked to before in a class. She probably barely knew who I was, but she said she would go with me. This forced me to talk to her. I actually enjoyed the group date and became good friends with the girl I went with.
After that, I realized that girls are just normal people too. Everyone who is different from me is just another person, same as I am. We’re all children of God, so why would I avoid someone because of their different looks, personalities, or interests?
Now, some of my closest friends are girls, and a lot of my guy friends are completely different from anyone I thought I would spend time with two years ago.
Remember, everyone is different from you, and that’s a good thing. Don’t focus only on those differences, but try to be friends with people around you.
Elder Spencer Evans, age 18, Utah, USA
Likes singing, listening to music, and making others laugh.
Elder Evans is currently serving in the Argentina Rosario Mission.
“The best way to get to know others is through genuine friendship. While you are young, build good friendships with many people.”
For the Strength of Youth: A Guide for Making Choices (2022), 13.

Before I went into combat experience, I had, at the prompting of my father, a patriarchal blessing given to me. As you know, that’s an opportunity, under the hands of those who hold the priesthood, to have the spiritual gifts and opportunities, the actual capacities that are within us, revealed to us in such a way that we can actually formulate our lives for the future as we apply the principles of the gospel. And you know, that patriarchal blessing stated in a number of paragraphs that I would live, as we might term in the vernacular, to a ripe old age, that I would have a wife and a family and certain experiences in the Church. And then it concluded, as they often do, with the conditional clause, “if thou art willing.” See, there’s the condition. If you are willing, Paul, these things will come to pass. And one of the paragraphs indicated divine intervention in time of combat.
Now there were 1,000 of us in my combat team who left San Francisco on that fateful journey, and there were six of us who came back 2 1/2 years later. How do you like that for odds! And of the six of us, five had been severely wounded two or more times and had been sent back into the line as replacements. There had been literally thousands of incidents where I should have been taken from the earth by the enemy and for some reason was not.
Not too many battles later my squad got the assignment to go out and find the enemy position and their ammunition and supply dump—an assignment that was frequently given to an infantry squadron. We used to rotate this and we took turns. This required an all-night skirmish. We were to go out and spend one complete day and night and come back the next morning. We went out and finally got behind their lines and secured their position and ammunition dump, plotted it on our map, and started back. But our battle line had changed, and the enemy now occupied the area where we had been the day before. They had pushed our forces back a quarter of a mile in a counterattack. So we came around a hill into a valley, thinking it was held by our side, but the enemy now held both hills, and we were in a valley right between them. By the time we discovered it, they had annihilated one or two of our squad, and the rest of us took cover in a deep shell hole right in the center.
It was late afternoon when we found ourselves in this particular position. We knew we had to be out of there by nightfall because they’d just squeeze us out, the fighting being what it was in that sector. So we sat there, 11 of us, plotting what we’d do and how we’d do it. We were still 350 to 400 yards from our lines. In fact, we could even hear our fellows yell when they saw our plight, but it was too late. So we kept calling back over to them that we were going to make a dash for it, but we’d let them know just as soon as we could decide, and as we sat there surveying our situation, we decided that right at dusk we would go as a team, realizing that some wouldn’t make it. But it was the only way to get some of us out of it. There’s a long inventory-taking episode, let me tell you, as you sit there waiting.
We decided that we’d go at 6:15 because it would be just dark enough that we would be less of a target but light enough that we could make our way. We called over to our fellows to give us as much cover as they could with fire power, that the 11 men they would see scampering would be us, and to protect us with all they had. They called back that that’s what they’d do. We stripped our rifles down because we couldn’t take them with us, and got rid of all the heavy weights: there was the ammunition, the pouches, the grenades. We disassembled them as much as we could so that the enemy wouldn’t get any value from them. Then we sat there meditating and talking, and the others asked if I would kneel and lead them in prayer. And then we promised certain things we’d do for each other in terms of family welfare and all the rest if one made it and the other didn’t. I always carried my blessing with me, and I remember looking at it at 6:05, and I opened it up and studied it again, and it said, in essence, “Paul, you will live to see certain things come to pass if you’re willing.” There wasn’t a human way out of the situation we were in. You’d have to have been there to appreciate what I’m trying to tell you.
Well, the zero minute came, and we shook hands, and you never saw 11 men scamper like that before. I wished I’d had the track coach there. I think I set a new world record as I made my way to the American line. Three or four of the others didn’t get above the surface of the ground; they were cut down with machine guns. One of my good friends was almost cut in two with a burst, and as I stopped to try to help, I could see it was hopeless, and so l started on. It had been raining hard, and it was slippery, dirty, muddy, and so cold, and you’d fall as many times as you’d take a step almost, trying to get some traction. I’d move this way and that way, and I could tell I had a sniper with a machine gun right on me because the dirt and the mud behind me would just kick right up, move right around me, and then I’d move this way and then he’d pick me up again and move back. I was going with all I had. By then it was everybody for himself, and as I scampered within 50 yards of our hole, the sniper got a direct beam on me, and the first burst caught me in the right heel. It took my combat boot right off, just made me barefooted that quick without touching me physically, and it spun me around, and I went down on my knee. As I went down another machine gun burst came across my back and ripped the belt and the canteen and the ammunition pouch right off my back without touching me. As I got up to run, another burst hit me right in the back of the helmet, and it hit in the steel part, ricocheted enough to where it came up over my head, and split the helmet in two, but it didn’t touch me. Then I lunged forward again, and another burst caught me in the loose part of the shoulders where I could take off both my shirt sleeves without removing my coat, and then one more lunge and I fell over the line, into the arms of one of the dirtiest sergeants you ever saw. He’d watched the whole encounter, and he said, “Paul, you sure are lucky.” He said, “Follow me,” and I crawled back up, and I was the only one of the 11 who had even made it the first 100 yards.
Lucky? Oh, you call it what you want. I’d had verification after verification. A thousand such incidents happened to me in two years of combat experience. I only relate these things because I feel that young people everywhere, in and out of the Church, need to commence a serious investigation of their own souls and status in this life, because they are at a time when they can prepare.

When I was a newly called deacons quorum president, I wasn’t sure how to increase my spirituality. I started doing family history, usually each Sunday. I have been going to the temple every Saturday morning. My goal was to take male baptism and confirmation names as often as I could. After I went to the temple each week, I would feel a little more spiritual, and that way I was able to help my quorum better.
Josh B., age 13, Utah, USA

I live with my family in Bacolod City on the island of Negros, one of the many islands that make up the nation of the Philippines. Our home happens to be located near a rehabilitation center for people with disabilities.
I will never forget something that happened in 1992, when I was in the sixth grade. I had gone home for lunch, and I was in a hurry to get back to school. While crossing the street, I happened to notice some nursing students from one of the local professional schools. They were laughing. I wasn’t sure why until I saw him—the blind man. After I had crossed the street, he was almost at my side.
I had to wait there for the jeepney, a public transportation vehicle, to come. The blind man realized I was there and called out, “Friend, could you call a taxi for me?”
For some reason, I felt uncomfortable and embarrassed. I thought that if I helped him, the people across the street might make fun of me, too. Besides, I was afraid of him. In addition to being blind, he had other physical disabilities; he couldn’t seem to control one side of his body. I moved away from him slightly. Maybe he won’t hear me, I thought. Maybe he will decide he just imagined someone was here.
But it didn’t work. Even after I distanced myself from him, he knew I was still there. Over and over, he asked me to help him. I tried to be even quieter. If I could only stop breathing! I thought.
I was grateful when I saw the jeepney approaching. I got in quickly and left the blind man standing in the street. I told myself: Nobody knows about this. Nobody knows except me and that man, and he doesn’t even know who I am. But I knew I had acted very inconsiderately.
After I got to school, I couldn’t stop thinking about the blind man. I tried to concentrate on my lessons, but my mind was uneasy. Nobody knows. There’s no way he could ever recognize me.
When I went home, I decided to tell my mother what had happened. “Why did you let that opportunity pass?” she asked. “There is Someone who always knows. He expects us to help one another.”
Later I remembered my sister. She is mentally disabled. How would I feel if someone treated her like that? I cried as I remembered what I had done.
When I was in my first year of high school, I was given a chance to correct my mistake. As before, I was preparing to cross the street. I was really in a hurry because I could see an old friend on the opposite side. I wanted to catch up with her, and I called out to her.
To my surprise, I heard a voice behind me, a familiar voice. I looked back and saw the same blind man. He had heard me calling to my friend. Of course, he did not know I was the same person who had refused to help him once before. He asked again for my help.
I didn’t hesitate this time. I called a taxi for him and helped him get in. He thanked me briefly. When he was gone, I looked across the street. I had missed my friend, but I didn’t mind. I was happy that Heavenly Father had given me a second chance to help that man.
I’m in my third year of high school now, but I still remember what I learned from the blind man. I know that God loves all of us. And even if we think nobody can see the things we do, he always knows what choices we make—and he is always willing to help us make the right ones.

I lived in a ward where one woman was like a beacon of righteousness. Jessica (name has been changed) radiated love and goodness every week in our meetings. She went from person to person, greeting them and loving them—especially those who were “hanging on the edges” of the ward. She invited the lonely to her home, talked to the shy ones, and went out of her way to spread her commitment to Christ and His gospel. It impacted the entire ward for good.

When I was young, I was overly dependent on my older sister. For example, I was a fussy eater, and when we went to visit our grandparents, I was constantly faced with being offered food I didn’t like. When the plate was passed to me, I would turn to my sister and ask, “Collene, do I like this?”
If it was familiar and she knew that I didn’t like it, she would say, “No, you don’t like that.”
If it was something we hadn’t eaten before, she would say, “Just a minute,” and taste it, and then tell me if I liked it or not. If she said that I didn’t like it, no amount of coaxing could get me to eat it.
Just as I needed to rely on my own taste buds and stop denying myself good food just because my sister told me that I didn’t like it, we must all feast on the fruit of our own testimony and not the testimony of another person. We also need to increase our ability to receive personal revelation.
We do this when we place our faith in our Lord and Savior, repent of our sins, read and really think about the scriptures, pray, look for ways to help others, and share the gospel with others. During general conferences and at many other times, we will be taught by the Lord’s prophets, seers, and revelators. When we follow the counsel of the Brethren, we prepare ourselves to go to the temple, where we receive more power to overcome the sins of the world and to “stand in holy places” (D&C 45:32).

Elder Lund leaves soon for his mission. He told us, “I worked at a dry cleaner for two years. I found the position when I took a buddy to his interview. He told the lady he couldn’t take the job because of the hours but that I could. I did. I worked the cash register, took in dirty clothes, and gave out the clean ones. I also cleaned up after closing. When I started the job I was very shy. I learned to speak up and explain things to people. I gained a lot of confidence. Now I don’t have trouble communicating with people.
“My brother and I bought broken lawn mowers, repaired them, and sold them for a profit. We didn’t have to spend money for parts. They just needed our mechanical knowledge.
“I put my money into a savings account. I recommend everyone use a savings account. But give the bankbook to your mom so you can’t take the money out again. You need to start early in life to save because you can’t cram in the last few months like you might for a test.”

It was Christmas Eve. We had just gotten our new pajamas, a tradition in our family. The kids played Christmas music and everyone danced around. No one was grumpy; everyone was happy, smiling, and having fun. Knowing that I was expecting another child, I was thinking about how much I loved our family, about how excited I was to have one more child on the way.
Then I felt a distinct impression. The Spirit whispered to me that one of our family members wouldn’t be with us next year.
Later that night, as my husband, Tim, and I were putting gifts under the tree, he told me that he had felt an impression earlier that evening that one of our family members wouldn’t be with us for our next Christmas Eve. I told Tim I had received the same impression.
Before we left on a post-Christmas trip to visit family out of state, Tim talked to our children about being safe while we traveled. We were troubled by the thought of losing a family member on our trip, but we felt reassured that all would be well. We traveled, had a great visit with family members, and returned home safely.
Soon it was time for my regular prenatal checkup. The doctor delivered sad news. An ultrasound confirmed that the baby had died two weeks before the visit.
As Tim and I drove home, devastated, we realized that two weeks before had been Christmas Eve. We don’t know exactly when the spirit enters the body, but Tim and I feel that our baby got to be with our family, if only for a moment, on that Christmas Eve with everyone dancing around and being happy. We felt so much joy, and we feel the baby was a part of it. When he left us, we believe he became the member of our family who wouldn’t be with us the next Christmas Eve. I believe that someday we’ll get to see our baby again. I’m grateful for the peace that brings to me.

Standing as a witness of truth takes on new meaning when everything at your high school is connected to religion—a religion other than your own. Not only does it mean being an example of how Latter-day Saints believe and act, but it also means respecting the beliefs of others and rejoicing in the truths you share.
For Lara Wolford, 18, Cameron Cabe, 18, and his younger sister, Jenna Cabe, 16, standing up for the truth they know is part of daily life. They attend Lehman High School in Sidney, Ohio, where the curriculum is Catholic, as are most of the students and faculty. Lara, Cameron, and Jenna, who are members of the Sidney Ward, Dayton Ohio East Stake, join their fellow students for weekly mass (worship services) and daily religion classes where the Bible is the textbook.
While being “different” has its difficulties, at a school where religion is a major focus, these teens have learned that having all eyes on you is a great way to teach by example.
“A lot of my friends and some of my teachers have told me that they respect how I stand up for what I believe in,” says Lara. “They know how I live and that I won’t lower my standards.”
That attention can sometimes lead to interesting opportunities to share the gospel. “I have one friend in particular who asks a lot of questions about the Church, so I gave him a Book of Mormon and a Finding Faith in Christ video for Christmas,” says Lara. But it didn’t end there. “When my other friends found out about that, they all wanted one!” Lara happily provided copies of the Book of Mormon to anyone who asked.
“They kept them in their lockers or book bags, and would pull them out and read them if they had some free time. One friend pulled his out in religion class one day to answer a question about Mormons.”
Cameron and Jenna’s mother, Darla, witnessed the result of Lara’s missionary work. She says, “One day I walked in the front door of the school to pick up Cameron from an after-school activity. Three non-LDS students who were waiting in the lobby for their rides were sitting there reading the Book of Mormon! When I asked them about it, they said that they had some questions and had decided to read it for themselves.”
Cameron used another student’s question about his beliefs as an opportunity to gain a sure testimony for himself. In his freshman year someone asked how he could believe that Joseph Smith really saw what he claimed to have seen. Cameron studied the history of the Church and began reading the scriptures every night. He explains what happened a little while later when that student asked him the same question again:
“He said, ‘Don’t you think that’s silly that something like that happened so close to the present time?’ And I said, ‘No, I don’t think it’s silly. I think it’s great.’ Later on, he told me that he ended up having more respect for me and other LDS students because of that.”
Lara has also had frequent opportunities to bear her testimony as she explains her beliefs to friends. “I share my testimony a lot, because when I am answering questions about why we do this or why we believe this, my testimony just comes out. It’s the best way to answer!”
Besides bearing her testimony, Jenna likes to be prepared. “I always have a copy of the Book of Mormon, a For the Strength of Youth pamphlet, and a copy of the Articles of Faith in my backpack so that if anyone ever asks questions, I can show it to them.”
Lara, Cameron, and Jenna have had many opportunities to share what they know, but attending a Catholic high school has also given them the chance to learn more about the beliefs of others.
Since Lara also attended a Catholic elementary school, she and her classmates have had plenty of time to get to know one another’s beliefs. “Over the 11 years that I’ve gone to Catholic school, there has always been a mutual respect between me and my classmates. We enjoy our similarities and respect our differences. I think the greatest form of respect is showing a sincere love for each other.”
Cameron, Lara, and Jenna try to show respect for their classmates’ religion by praying when they do at mealtime and by joining them in prayer before classes. They have also participated in Catholic mass as part of the school’s choir and orchestra. Jenna says of the weekly mass held each Friday at the school, “We don’t say the [Catholic] prayers with them, but we respect them. We stand when they stand and are reverent.”
And their classmates have returned the favor. Lara says, “They have prayed for my family during their school masses. When my brother was on his mission, they prayed for him that he would have a successful mission.”
While some of their beliefs are different, Cameron, Lara, and Jenna have appreciated seeing the truth observed by other faithful people and in the process have learned more about their own religion.
Cameron says answering difficult questions about the Church has made him pay more attention in seminary so that he has answers ready. “It makes me ask a lot of questions so that I understand it. It’s a learning experience for me, also.”
Seeing his friend’s reactions when he tells them he’s a priest has also made him appreciate the priesthood he holds. “They think it’s interesting that someone my age can be a priest,” he says. “It’s more of a responsibility, but it’s good because it makes me want to be on my best behavior even more.”
For the LDS students at Lehman High School, sharing the gospel and respecting their friends of other religions go hand in hand. Lara says, “I have a strong respect for anyone who lives their religion, and it gives me an opportunity to see what my friends believe and an opportunity to share what I believe.”
While attending a parochial (private religious) high school is a unique experience, Lara believes that when it comes to standing for truth, what really matters is inside your heart, not your high school.
“It doesn’t matter whether you go to parochial or public school,” she says. “It is easy to be LDS in high school anywhere if you have your own testimony.”
Editor’s note: Cameron Cabe is now serving as a full-time missionary in the Utah Ogden Mission.

Recently, I had the unique opportunity to hold a page of the original manuscript of the Book of Mormon. On this particular page, for the first time in this dispensation, these bold words of Nephi were recorded: “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.”
As I held this page, I was filled with a profound appreciation for the efforts of the 23-year-old Joseph Smith, who translated the Book of Mormon by the “gift and power of God.” I also felt appreciation for the words of a young Nephi, who had been asked to perform a very difficult task in obtaining the plates of brass from Laban.
Nephi knew that if he continued to stay focused on the Lord, he would be successful in fulfilling what the Lord commanded him. He remained focused on the Savior throughout his life even though he suffered temptations, physical trials, and even the betrayal of some in his immediate family.
Nephi knew in whom He could trust. Shortly after exclaiming, “O wretched man that I am! Yea, my heart sorroweth because of my flesh,” Nephi stated, “My God hath been my support; he hath led me through mine afflictions in the wilderness; and he hath preserved me upon the waters of the great deep.”
As followers of Christ, we are not spared challenges and trials in our lives. We are often required to do difficult things that, if attempted alone, would be overwhelming and maybe impossible. As we accept the Savior’s invitation to “come unto me,” He will provide the support, comfort, and peace that are necessary, just as He did for Nephi and Joseph. Even in our deepest trials, we can feel the warm embrace of His love as we trust Him and accept His will. We can experience the joy reserved for His faithful disciples, for “Christ is joy.”
In 2014, while serving a full-time mission, our family experienced an unexpected turn of events. When riding down a steep hill on a longboard, our youngest son fell and sustained a life-threatening injury to his brain. As his situation deteriorated, medical personnel rushed him into emergency surgery.
Our family knelt on the floor of an otherwise empty hospital room, and we poured our hearts out to God. In the midst of this confusing and painful moment, we were filled with our Heavenly Father’s love and peace.
We did not know what the future held or if we would see our son alive again. We did know very clearly that his life was in God’s hands and the results, from an eternal perspective, would work out for his and our good. Through the gift of the Spirit, we were fully prepared to accept any outcome.
It was not easy! The accident resulted in a two-month hospital stay while we were presiding over 400 full-time missionaries. Our son experienced a significant loss of memory. His recovery included long and difficult physical, speech, and occupational therapy sessions. Challenges remain, but over time we have witnessed a miracle.
We understand clearly that not every trial we face will have a result we wish for. However, as we remain focused on Christ, we will feel peace and see God’s miracles, whatever they may be, in His time and in His way.
There will be times when we will not be able to see any way that a current situation will end well and might even express, as Nephi, “My heart sorroweth because of my flesh.” There may be times that the only hope we have is in Jesus Christ. What a blessing to have that hope and trust in Him. Christ is the one who will always keep His promises. His rest is assured for all who come unto Him.
Our leaders deeply desire all to feel the peace and comfort that come through trusting in and focusing on the Savior Jesus Christ.
Our living prophet, President Russell M. Nelson, has been communicating the Lord’s vision for the world and for members of Christ’s Church: “Our message to the world is simple and sincere: we invite all of God’s children on both sides of the veil to come unto their Savior, receive the blessings of the holy temple, have enduring joy, and qualify for eternal life.”
This invitation to “come unto Christ” has specific implications for Latter-day Saints. As members of the Savior’s Church, we have made covenants with Him and have become His spiritually begotten sons and daughters. We have also been given the opportunity to labor with the Lord in inviting others to come unto Him.
As we labor with Christ, our most deeply focused efforts should be within our own homes. There will be times when family members and close friends will face challenges. The voices of the world, and maybe their own desires, might cause them to question truth. We should do everything we can to help them feel both the Savior’s love and our love. I am reminded of the scripture verse that has become our beloved hymn “Love One Another,” which teaches us, “By this shall … men know … ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.”
In our love for those who are questioning truth, the enemy of all joy might try to make us feel that we betray those we love if we ourselves continue to live the fulness of the gospel and teach its truths.
Our ability to help others come unto Christ or return to Christ will largely be determined by the example we set through our own personal commitment to stay on the covenant path.
If our true desire is to rescue those we love, we ourselves must stay firmly with Christ by embracing His Church and the fulness of His gospel.
In returning to Nephi’s story, we know that Nephi’s inclination to trust in the Lord was influenced by his parents’ propensity to trust in the Lord and by their covenant-keeping example. This is beautifully exemplified in Lehi’s vision of the tree of life. After partaking of the sweet and joyful fruit of the tree, Lehi “cast [his] eyes round about, that perhaps [he] might discover [his] family.” He saw Sariah, Sam, and Nephi standing “as if they knew not whither they should go.” Lehi then stated, “I beckoned unto them; and I also did say unto them with a loud voice that they should come unto me, and partake of the fruit.” Please note that Lehi did not leave the tree of life. He stayed spiritually with the Lord and invited his family to come where he was to partake of the fruit.
The adversary would entice some to leave the joy of the gospel by separating Christ’s teachings from His Church. He would have us believe that we can stay firmly on the covenant path on our own, through our own spirituality, independent of His Church.
In these latter days, Christ’s Church was restored in order to help Christ’s covenant children stay on His covenant path.
In the Doctrine and Covenants we read, “Behold, this is my doctrine—whosoever repenteth and cometh unto me, the same is my church.”
Through Christ’s Church, we are strengthened through our experiences as a community of Saints. We hear His voice through His prophets, seers, and revelators. Most importantly, through His Church we are provided with all the essential blessings of Christ’s Atonement that can be realized only through participation in sacred ordinances.
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is Christ’s Church on the earth, restored in these latter days for the benefit of all of God’s children.
I bear witness that as we come unto Christ and live as Latter-day Saints, we will be blessed with an added measure of His love, His joy, and His peace. Like Nephi, we can do difficult things and help others do the same, because we know in whom we can trust. Christ is our light, our life, and our salvation. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I can remember when my older brother had just such a decision to make. He was majoring in art at a university and showing lots of promise. He was just beginning to feel a breakthrough in the development of his talent when the bishop asked him to set it aside and go on a mission. He struggled with the decision for days. Two years away from pursuing the skills he had worked so hard to develop would set him back who knows how much. And he most certainly would have to give up the scholarship he needed to continue school.

As a family and individually, we prayed he would make the right decision. He did. The call was to serve in Sweden, and though he was pleased to be able to serve in the land of his parents’ birth, I’m sure he wondered, even as he entered the mission home, what this would mean to his skill as an artist. He found it strange that he should be the only Swedish missionary in the mission home. (These were the days before the Mission Training Center in Provo.) He traveled to Sweden alone. At the same time his mission president was concerned that he had a new elder coming and had no companion for him. Why hadn’t they sent two? As he picked up my brother at the airport and began the journey by car to the mission home, the discussion turned to the big zone conference being planned. The mission president enthusiastically described how many nonmembers would be touched by the many activities and large impressive illustrations of the Book of Mormon they intended to display, if they could only find someone who could … Suddenly he looked at his new elder with a strange expression. “Elder Rosine, do you have any artistic ability by any chance?” When my brother revealed his background and the struggle it had been for him to cut off his development, the president got tears in his eyes and said simply, “I understand it all now. You are an answer to our prayers.”

Elder Rosine spent the first few months of his mission doing large oil paintings of scenes from the Book of Mormon. His letters home glowed with enthusiasm for the work he was doing, and he humbly admitted that the beautiful paintings he was producing were not his but the Lord’s, for he had never before painted so well.

Chris awoke to the sounds of excited voices. It was the first day of school, and everyone was bustling about, trying to get back into the familiar routine. He could hear his sister, Cathy, chattering to herself as she tried on one outfit after another. She was starting sixth grade and wanted to look just right.
Even though his eyes were closed, Chris knew from the banging of the dresser drawers that his older brother, Mike, was also getting dressed.
Both Cathy and Mike were excited about the new school year. Chris wasn’t, though, which was why he pretended to still be asleep. “Better hurry, kid,” Mike said as he gave Chris a nudge. “You’ll miss your bus if you don’t get going.”
“Maybe I want to miss my bus,” Chris sighed. “Then I wouldn’t have to go to first grade again.”
Mike gave his brother an understanding look, then bent over to mess up his hair a bit. “Don’t worry,” he said assuredly, “it will only hurt today.”
“What do you mean, ‘It will only hurt today’?” Chris asked as he forced himself out from under the covers.
“I mean that you’ll probably be embarrassed a little today, but by tomorrow, you’ll realize that it isn’t that big a deal to anyone but yourself.”
After Mike left the room, Chris pulled on his clothes. He remembered how the other students had teased him last year when he couldn’t read as well as they could. He especially remembered the teasing that he’d had to endure when they learned that he would have to repeat first grade. Alan Thomas had teased him the most. He wasn’t a good reader, either, and he’d often made fun of Chris during reading time so that the other children wouldn’t notice his own mistakes.
“Ready to go?” Cathy asked as she poked her head into the boys’ room. “Dad says to hurry down for family prayer.”
The family was already kneeling in a circle when Chris entered the living room. As he found a spot, he felt the love and comfort that prayer always gave him. It was Mike’s turn to pray. After pausing a moment to look at his little brother, he closed his eyes and began. It was a wonderful prayer. Chris liked to hear his older brother pray because he always seemed to say just the right things.
Mike mentioned Chris and asked Heavenly Father to comfort him. He also asked Heavenly Father to prompt the other children to be kind to him and to not tease him. After the prayer, the whole family, in turn, gave Chris a little hug.
It was hard walking into the first grade class again. Chris was glad that his mother had decided to take him that morning. As he opened the door to the classroom, he saw the familiar painted walls. Mrs. Sanders looked the same, too, and she seemed very happy to see him. “I’m glad that you came a bit early, Chris,” she began. “I need someone who can help me set up for the new students. I imagine that they’ll be a little confused.”
Suddenly the door opened again. “Wonderful!” Mrs. Sanders exclaimed. “Now I have two students to be my helpers this morning.”
Chris turned around to see whom Mrs. Sanders was speaking to. There, standing in the doorway and looking very uncomfortable, was Alan Thomas! Chris quickly turned in astonishment to his mom and caught her quick smile and wink.
The day went by quickly. Chris made friends with two of his new classmates, and he even asked Alan to join them in a game of foursquare during recess.
Chris found that he knew his alphabet better than anyone else and that he was one of the best readers in the class. He decided that he was going to like going to first grade again. Mike had been right—it really did hurt for only a little while.

As a new convert to the Church, I experienced a spiritual rescue through the saving hands of a faithful member of the Church. I grew up in Matsumoto, Japan, close to where the Nagano Winter Olympics were held. My hometown looks very much like Salt Lake City, a valley surrounded by beautiful mountains. When I was 17 years old, I met two American missionaries, Elder Carter and Elder Hayashi. Though our ages were only two or three years apart, the elders had something wonderful that I had never felt before. They were diligent, cheerful, and filled with love and light. I was deeply impressed by their qualities, and I wanted to become like them. I listened to their message and decided to be baptized. My parents, who were Buddhist, strongly opposed my baptism. Through the help of the missionaries and the Lord, I received permission and miraculously was baptized.
The next year I entered the university in Yokohama. Living alone, far from my hometown and the people I knew, I became lonely and strayed from the Church. One day I received a postcard from a Church member back home. She wrote that she had heard I was not attending Church meetings. She quoted a scripture and invited me to return to church. I was overwhelmed by the words of the scripture. This helped me realize that maybe I had lost something important, and I pondered and struggled for many days. This also caused me to remember a promise the missionaries had made to me: “If you read the Book of Mormon and ask in fervent prayer if the promise found in Moroni is true, you will know the truth through the power of the Holy Ghost.”2
I realized that I was not praying with all of my heart and decided to do so. One morning I woke up early, knelt in my small apartment, and prayed sincerely. To my surprise, the confirmation of the Holy Ghost came upon me as promised. My heart burned, my body shook, and I was filled with joy. Through the power of the Holy Ghost, I learned that God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, live and that They truly appeared to Joseph Smith. I made a commitment in my heart to repent and faithfully follow Jesus Christ for the rest of my life.
This spiritual experience changed my life completely! I decided to serve a mission out of gratitude to the Lord and to the Church member who rescued me. Following my mission, I was sealed in the temple to a wonderful girl, and we have been blessed with four children. Not coincidentally, this is the same girl who saved me by sending a postcard to that lonely apartment in Yokohama many years ago. I remain ever grateful for the mercy of the Lord and the help of this Church member, who invited me to once again come unto Christ.3

Lisa stood with her elbows on the window sill watching for Grandmother’s little car. Her big eyes sparkled as she pressed her nose against the cool glass trying to get a better look.
“I wish she would hurry,” Lisa said out loud, leaving a large steamy spot on the window.
With her finger she drew squiggly lines through the steam as she thought about the pretty blue dress Grandmother brought her the last time she came. “I know she’ll bring me something as nice this time,” she said confidently.
Just then Grandmother’s car turned into the driveway. “Grandma’s here! Grandma’s here!” Lisa cried as she opened the door in welcome and ran to Grandmother’s open arms.
“What did you bring me?” she asked.
Grandmother smiled her usual happy smile and gave Lisa a big hug. “I didn’t bring you anything this time, dear,” she said.
Lisa pouted. Her shoulders drooped with disappointment. She wouldn’t even look at Grandmother.
“I’m sorry you’re so sad, Lisa,” said Grandmother. “Sometimes I bring you something and sometimes I don’t—but I love you all the time.”
Suddenly Lisa’s face broke into a smile. “I love you too,” she said, flinging her arms around Grandmother’s neck.
That afternoon when Lisa went upstairs to her room, she opened the drawer where she kept all her treasures. There were beads, pretty rocks, ribbons, bright bits of colored yarn, a little ball, and a small plastic turtle. And there in the corner of the drawer was Lisa’s favorite treasure—a sparkling earring.
Lisa picked up each of the treasures, and then she carefully put them down again as she thought and thought. It was hard to decide what to choose. She picked up the sparkling earring. It was especially beautiful. She was sure Grandmother would like it. But Lisa liked to wear it when she played house, so she placed it back in the drawer.
She picked up the little ball, the small plastic turtle, and one pretty rock and walked toward the bedroom door.
Grandma would like that sparkling earring better, Lisa thought again as she stopped and looked back at the drawer. Then she walked over to the drawer and exchanged the pretty rock for the sparkling earring.
Lisa hurried to find her grandmother.
“See, Grandma,” she said, smiling. “I have some presents for you. Now you’ll have toys in your purse for all your grandchildren to play with, and here’s a pretty earring for yourself.”
“Thank you,” said Grandmother, examining the sparkling earring. “It’s beautiful!”
Grandmother gave Lisa a special smile and a warm hug. Lisa smiled back with happiness as she said, “I won’t always give you presents when you come to see me, Grandma. But I love you all the time!”

This is not an aristocracy of the haughty, the snobbish, and the arrogant, but of the humble and strong. They live lives of productivity and usefulness. Approximately 18,000 of them presently perform a matchless service as missionaries at considerable monetary sacrifice to themselves and/or their loved ones. In the last fortnight I have been privileged to meet with some 200 of them laboring in a foreign country. One of them, a tall, smiling young American with his plastic raincoat folded in his coat pocket, approached.

“Elder,” I queried, “how long have you been on your mission?”

“Since March,” he responded.

For no apparent reason I asked, “How long since you heard from your mother?”

He smiled broadly. “I got my second letter from her last week,” he said.

“How long since you’ve heard from your father?” I inquired.

He said, “I have not heard from him. I don’t know where he is. My parents are not members of this Church, and I come from a broken home. I had a paper route in my home town in the Midwest, and a family on my paper route, whom I hardly knew, felt sorry for me and invited me to live with them. The missionaries found this family, and they joined the Church and I joined with them. I began to save my money so that if called on a mission, I might be able to go. I worked hard and was able to save much faster than I thought I could. Two years after my conversion, I am serving as a missionary.”

These choice young people are not an aristocracy of the rich, but of those who are rich in the Spirit of God. It is not an aristocracy of the politically or socially powerful, but of those who have great moral influence. It is and would be of those who are the elect of God. It is an aristocracy of the young Saints of God, even as those who are on the stand this afternoon and who will be on the stand singing for us this evening.

Jesus spoke of them when he said: “He shall send his angels with a great sound of a trumpet, and they shall gather together his elect from the four winds.” (Matt. 24:31.)

Listen to the counsel of Paul to the Colossians: “Put on therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, longsuffering.” (Col. 3:12.)

How can the young elect of God, as well as those who are older, begin this herculean task?

First, by their example of obedience to the commandments of God, thus enjoying the personal guidance of his Holy Spirit.
Second, by sharing their special knowledge as missionaries.
Third, by responding to the high level of expectancy of their parents and Church leaders.
Fourth, through the giving of themselves. A very special young friend of mine served as a missionary of this Church in Japan. His dedication to missionary work and the Japanese people was so complete and full that, rather than spend all of the money his parents sent to him, he unselfishly made a regular contribution of part of his money to help another local Japanese missionary. His parents sent him extra money so that he could buy some camera equipment available in Japan to record in pictures a few of the great experiences he was having. Rather than buy the camera equipment, which would have served him well for a lifetime, he chose rather to send the money back to his parents. In time, as with most missionaries, the clothes of my young friend became threadbare and thin. In order for him to be able to come home, it was necessary for him to buy a second-hand suit from one of the other elders. His regular denial of himself, in order to share his substance with the local Japanese missionary, was a very closely guarded secret. He is a good example of the young elect of God of this Church, as are hundreds of thousands of others.

I desire to leave my witness of the divinity of this great and ever-advancing cause made possible by the obedience, sacrifice, and faithfulness of the elect of God.
I know that God lives. I know that this is his work. I know that he inspires his great prophet President Spencer W. Kimball. I know his path is the only way to peace and happiness here and hereafter, in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

In the end, one story kept coming back to me—a story that has been imprinted on my memory for many, many years. It isn’t about farming, animals, nuclear engineering, or pigeons. It is as you might have guessed—about aviation. I call it “The Story of the Lightbulb.”
On a dark December night 36 years ago, a Lockheed 1011 jumbo jet crashed into the Florida Everglades, killing over 100 people. This terrible accident was one of the deadliest crashes in the history of the United States.
A curious thing about this accident is that all vital parts and systems of the airplane were functioning perfectly—the plane could have easily landed safely at its destination in Miami, only 20 miles (32km) away.
During the final approach, however, the crew noticed that one green light had failed to illuminate—a light that indicates whether or not the nose landing gear has extended successfully. The pilots discontinued the approach, set the aircraft into a circling holding pattern over the pitch-black Everglades, and turned their attention toward investigating the problem.
They became so preoccupied with their search that they failed to realize the plane was gradually descending closer and closer toward the dark swamp below. By the time someone noticed what was happening, it was too late to avoid the disaster.
After the accident, investigators tried to determine the cause. The landing gear had indeed lowered properly. The plane was in perfect mechanical condition. Everything was working properly—all except one thing: a single burned-out lightbulb. That tiny bulb—worth about 20 cents—started the chain of events that ultimately led to the tragic death of over 100 people.
Of course, the malfunctioning lightbulb didn’t cause the accident; it happened because the crew placed its focus on something that seemed to matter at the moment while losing sight of what mattered most.

María Isabel Parra de Uribe of the Villas de La Hacienda Ward, México City México Tepalcapa Stake, tells of an experience common to many who have sought blessings of healing. Five months pregnant, she was suffering intense pain. Tests showed she needed surgery immediately, and she was told she might lose her baby.
“My husband and I were confused,” she says. “We didn’t know whether to have the surgery or not. We decided to ask God if surgery was the right choice. After our prayer, we felt peaceful and calm.
“While I was waiting to be taken to the operating room, my husband gave me a priesthood blessing. When it was over, we felt not only calm but certain our baby would survive.
“After I came out of surgery, a nurse said, ‘Everything is all right. Your baby is fine.’ I smiled to myself, realizing, I already knew.”
The power of godliness had been manifest in her life.

One day I was in our kitchen and my foot felt funny. I started rubbing it on the wall. After a while I started bouncing it, but I did it too hard and made a hole in the wall. Later that week as I was getting ready for bed, I heard my mom and dad talking about the hole and wondering how it got there. Before I went to bed, I told my mom that I made the hole. I was honest like Jesus is honest. It felt good to choose the right.

Ruth has a love for children that she gained in part from her own youth. Many of Ruth’s childhood summers were spent in Springville, Utah, with her Aunt Millie Reynolds Martain. Aunt Millie was the midwife for that area, and like the old horse-and-buggy country doctor, many nights—good weather or bad—she would go out to help some new child into the world.

When Ruth was visiting her, Millie would take her along. Ruth would wait outside until the baby had come and then be called in to help give the newborn his first bath.

It was a beautiful tradition that helped teach her reverence for life; she has carried it on with each of her grandchildren. Wherever it happens, when they come into the world, Grandmother Funk is there to welcome them. Her careful attention and investment of time and love has developed into a close relationship with each of her grandchildren.