Gospel Story Finder

I recently met a sister in Mexico who understands what it means to magnify her calling with faith. Marffissa Maldonado was called to teach a youth Sunday School class three years ago. She had 7 students attending when she was called, but she now has 20 who attend regularly. I asked her, in amazement, what she had done to bring about such an increase in numbers. She modestly said, “Oh, it wasn’t just me. All the class members helped.” Together, they saw the names of the less-actives on the roll and began to go out together and invite them to come back to church. They have also had a baptism because of their efforts.

Sister Maldonado set up a social media site just for her class members called “I Am a Child of God,” and she posts inspirational thoughts and scriptures several times a week. She regularly texts her students with assignments and encouragement. She feels it is important to communicate in the ways they best relate to, and it is working. She told me simply, “I love my students.” I could feel that love as she told me of their efforts, and her example reminded me of what one person of faith and action can accomplish in this work with the help of the Lord.

One man who had committed himself to do everything he could to share the gospel with others walked out of his office one day and saw a man running down the hall. He learned this man had stapled his finger. He reached into his big pocket, pulled out Merthiolate and a Band-Aid, and dressed the wound. The shocked individual asked in amazement why he did this. He responded: “I am a Mormon, and Mormons do these things.” This man was prepared to help another whenever possible.

I love hanging out with friends, but I’ve had to move a lot for my dad’s work. After I left my friends in Oklahoma to go to Texas, I had a tough freshman year and separated myself from everybody. Then I attended seminary. My seminary teachers were like angels from heaven. I opened myself up more, made friends, and went on a temple trip. Seminary was the only place outside of home where I felt like I belonged.
Bailee T., 17, Louisiana, USA

Our first two children were beautiful little girls. During my third pregnancy, a critical situation developed. It was soon recognized to be life-threatening. Medical experts advised us that there were two alternatives—my probable death, or therapeutic abortion of the child growing within me. The Holy Ghost testified there was no option—I would continue to carry our unborn child. Others in similar situations may well receive a different witness from him. This was personal revelation and was accepted. Anguishing months followed, months of pleading with the Lord that those near to me would have the same conviction, months of applying the power of the priesthood through my husband’s administrations. At last a healthy child was born—our first and only son. My life was spared. This is background for the incident that I feel prompted to share with you this evening.

It occurred when this most treasured, little son was nearly three years old. One day, suddenly and without warning, he stopped breathing and fell to the floor, apparently lifeless. My husband was not home, and I called my ten-year-old daughter, Nancy, to get help as I carried him to the bedroom. As I worked to revive him, I literally, cried out unto the Lord. I begged him to spare our only son. I promised that I would dedicate myself to training him up to be an instrument in the hands of God if he would be spared. The police arrived with their emergency equipment. I continued in fervent, vocal prayer to the Lord, petitioning him to restore our little boy. The doctor arrived. Just as a stimulant was to be injected directly into his heart as a final emergency measure, he cried. My prayers had been answered, but I was to receive further testimony of this in a most unexpected way.

The next morning, our son climbed on his daddy’s knee. “I was sitting on the lap of Jesus,” he said. Then he went on, “He looked into my eyes. I was so happy. I wanted to stay there with him, but he told me I had to go back home to you.” Even now, twenty-four years later, our son remembers vividly the reciprocal love he experienced during his brief “step out of time.” He is vigorous and well, living with his lovely wife and a little son of his own as he continues to serve the Lord.

Just as this child, for that one brief moment, knew and felt the love of the Savior, may we, as women of all ages, as daughters of God, as wives, as mothers, as contributing members of society whose identities are being challenged, seek to know him well enough to love him, well enough to serve him. Seek his face. Reciprocate his love. Reflect it to others. Consider this sobering thought as expressed by C. S. Lewis: “It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and godesses” (The Weight of Glory, Grand Rapids, Mich: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1965, pp. 14–15.)

Jesus Christ is our Savior, our brother, our friend. He is as near as we allow him to be. Our only ultimate joy and happiness is predicated upon our relationship with him. Our only peace, through disappointments, sorrow, and challenges, will come as we draw nearer unto him. With such love for our Redeemer, every difficult experience may be met with courage, acceptance, and even gratitude. His love for us is a gift beyond price. What does he ask in return? “Love one another; as I have loved you.” (John 13:34.)

To these truths I bear solemn witness, for I know this is God’s church. I know God lives, as does his Beloved Son, our Savior Jesus Christ; and the Lord’s word will go forth this night through his chosen mouthpiece, President Spencer W. Kimball. May we listen to a prophet’s voice, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

In 1980 my wife, daughter, and I moved to Baltimore, Maryland. Soon after our arrival we were invited to a ward party at the home of a member. We were told it was to be a crab feast. We were excited, but we really didn’t know what to expect. Our experience with seafood consisted of trout, canned salmon, and pickled herring. As we came to the member’s backyard, we saw that newspapers had been spread on picnic tables and steaming bushels filled with red creatures the size of my fist had been dumped out on them.
My wife, Ruth, asked, “What are these?” referring to the red creatures.
We were informed that these were Maryland blue crabs, which turn bright red when they are steamed.
Ruth asked, “How do you catch them?”
We were told that early that morning, two of the brethren had gone to a butcher shop and purchased a bucket of chicken necks. As you know, chicken necks look like chicken and smell like chicken when cooked, but if that is what you are given for dinner, you will go hungry. The chicken neck consists of bone, tendon, and skin.
The assigned men had gone out in a skiff on the shallow Chesapeake Bay. In water about eight feet deep, they began the process of catching a crab. They tied a chicken neck to a string, dropped it into the water, and allowed it to settle on the sandy ocean floor. Sensing a potential feast, a crab scurried along the bottom and grabbed the chicken neck with its big claw. The men then slowly and steadily began pulling on the string. The crab held on to the chicken neck, and just as it was about to breach the surface of the bay, the crab became agitated and let go. But by that time the men had placed a small net under the crab. They took it out of the water and flung it into the boat. And, voilà: ward dinner!
Ruth said, “So, that’s it? There’s no hook? There’s no rod? There’s no reel?”
“That’s right,” they replied.
She said, “The crab could let go at any time?”
“Right.”
“But they don’t?”
“No,” was the reply.
Ruth summed up this newfound knowledge by saying, “Boy, are those crab stupid!”
If you were writing a pamphlet called For the Strength of Young Crabs, it would be pretty short, wouldn’t it? It would say, “Lay off the chicken necks! They are a trap. Don’t be fooled.”
There are many chicken necks in the world: things that look enticing, things that look like a veritable feast, and things that seem worth a minor detour. But if we take that detour, we will, like the prodigal in the parable, experience a fleeting paroxysm of enjoyment followed by degradation ranging from slight to abysmal and misery ranging from small to unutterable before coming to ourselves and recognizing the mistake. The mistake is that these detours are traps.

I am touched this evening to have in attendance a father of seven children whose sweetheart passed through the vale after a sudden illness just a few weeks ago—sweet Linda, thirty-two years of age, a devoted daughter, wife, and mother, taken home to our Father in Heaven for some inexplicable reason. The funeral was beautiful as Linda’s husband, daughter, and parents spoke of her love and talents. No one charged God foolishly. The testimonies and examples were powerful and strengthened our faith.

When I was an airline captain, I would sometimes fly my Boeing 747 from Germany to the West Coast of the United States. On those flights west, the daylight seemed to never end. We took off in Germany at 1:00 p.m., and 10 hours later we touched down in California—at 2:00 p.m. the same day! The sun never set on us.
The opposite happened when flying east. Sunset came more quickly than it normally would. Leaving at 1:00 p.m. meant that in just a few hours, we were engulfed in darkest night. Yet, because of our direction and speed, in a few more hours we found ourselves bathed in blazing and often blinding light.
Whether I traveled west or east, the sun never changed course. It held its position, steadfast in the heavens, providing warmth and light to the earth.
My access to that warmth and light depended on my location, direction, and speed.

One night five-year-old Jenna sat on the living room floor combing her doll’s hair. Her dad sat in his chair, reading the newspaper. When Jenna looked up, she saw a picture in the newspaper of a girl about her own age. The girl had curly black hair, her face was smudged with dirt, and her clothes were torn. The girl looked very sad.
“Why does that girl in the newspaper look so sad, Daddy?” Jenna asked as she pointed at the picture.
“Well,” said Dad, “let’s read the story about her. She lives far away in a country where the people are fighting a war. Because of the fighting, she and her family had to leave their home and are looking for a new place to live. Many of the people there don’t have shoes or clean clothes or even enough food to eat.”
“That would make me sad, too,” said Jenna. She sat staring at the picture for a long time. Then she quietly went to her closet and pulled out her suitcase, opened it, and started to put things inside: a pair of shoes, a can of soup, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a storybook, and a pretty blue dress. Jenna carefully looked over her dolls and chose one she thought the girl in the picture might like. Then she wrapped the doll in a pink baby blanket and tucked it inside too.
After she closed and latched the suitcase, she pushed and pulled it until she reached her dad. As she stopped in front of him, he peeked over the edge of the newspaper. “Are you going someplace, Jenna?”
“No, Daddy,” she replied. “We need to send these things to the girl in the newspaper. I put in some food and shoes, a book, and even one of my dolls. Let’s send it tonight so the girl won’t be sad for even one more day!”
Dad put down the paper, picked Jenna up, and gave her a great big hug. Then he said, “Oh, Jenna, I’m proud of you for being so willing to help. But I don’t know where to send your suitcase of wonderful gifts. I don’t know this girl’s name, and she doesn’t have a home, so I don’t know how to find her.”
Now it was Jenna who was sad. She sat very still thinking about what her dad had said.
Then Dad had an idea. “We could take your gifts to the homeless shelter. I’m sure some little girl right here in our town would appreciate them, too. What do you think?”
Jenna thought about what her dad had told her. “OK, Daddy. But I still wish I could help the girl in the newspaper.”
Later that night, when Jenna was ready to go to bed, she picked up her doll and said, “I know something I can do for that sad girl tonight. I can pray for her.”
She knelt by her bed and prayed, “Father in Heaven, please bless the girl who is far away that she will have food and a new home and a new doll. But most of all, help her to know that she has a new friend far away and that I love her. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Jenna climbed into bed and snuggled under her quilt. Being able to help someone made her feel warm inside, and praying for that someone made her feel happy.

On 28 October 1985 Elder Thomas S. Monson of the Quorum of the Twelve held a conference for the Saints in the Snederflers’ apartment in Prague, attended by 56 people. “I thought the floor of our apartment was not going to be able to hold us all!” laughs Sister Snederfler. “But it was a wonderful meeting.”

“Elder Monson dedicated our apartment and the entire building for the gathering of the Saints in Prague and Czechoslovakia,” says Brother Snederfler. “It was a marvelous spiritual experience from which all present received new strength and dedication to build up and expand the kingdom of God.” At that time, Elder Monson also ordained Jirí a high priest. “I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit and another command from God to serve better and with gladness in my heart.”

My father seldom went to church, even though his family had been members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for seven generations. He and my grandfather worked together to build roads in the Mojave Desert, so my father was away from home much of the time. When I was eight months old, my mother died, and I went to live with my mother’s parents, Grandpa and Grandma Baird.
Then my father remarried, and when I was seven, we moved from California to Manti, Utah. There we lived on a big dairy farm. Most important, my Grandma and Grandpa Giles (my new mother’s parents) and several aunts and uncles and their families lived there, too. They were active in the Church, and for the first time in my life, I saw people praying and studying the scriptures in their homes.
One of the people who influenced me most was my Uncle Jimmy. He was 13, just six years older than I was, and he became like my older brother. Uncle Jimmy was lots of fun. He’d hook up a sled to our big dog, Tony, and take me for a ride over the ice and snow.
At Christmastime, we often went together to hunt for a Christmas tree. After finding the right tree, we cut it down and brought it home. Grandmother popped lots of popcorn for us to string and gave us colored paper to make into ornaments.
One of my jobs was to help Uncle Jimmy on his delivery rounds in the milk truck. One of my older uncles drove, and we would run to the doorstep of each house, pick up the empty milk bottles, and leave full bottles in their place.
Wherever Uncle Jimmy went, I went. And since Uncle Jimmy went to church, so did I. Sundays started awfully early. First I went out to help feed and milk the cows. Then I came home, cleaned up, and dressed for church. I didn’t own a suit, but my mom and dad made sure my best clothes were clean. When I turned eight, I was baptized by my Uncle Grant.
After Grandpa Giles died, there was arguing about how to operate the farm. Eventually the family business fell apart, and my family moved to Kaysville, Utah.
When I was 14, our family moved back to Manti. I had a bedroom upstairs, and my only window faced the Manti Temple. I spent a lot of nights looking at the temple, wondering what my future would hold.
When I was in my late teens, I began to think about serving a mission. By then, my father had died and my mother didn’t have very much money. I felt a lot of pressure to stay home and help my mother. Then one night I went up into the hayloft to think and pray. There I had a clear and strong impression: I needed to serve a mission.
That was the best decision I had ever made. It changed my life. Doctrine and Covenants 31:5 became a guide: “Therefore, thrust in your sickle with all your soul, and your sins are forgiven you, and … your family shall live.” I decided to trust that the Lord would take care of my family while I worked hard on my mission. And the Lord was faithful to His promise. My mother was well taken care of while I was away.
While I was on my mission, I traveled for a few days with Elder Spencer W. Kimball, then of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. I was his temporary driver and companion. It was the first time I had been so close to an Apostle of the Lord. I heard him pray and testify. I saw what he focused on, what he talked about, and what he was like when he was not in public. I saw how he treated other people and how thoughtful he was of their needs. I decided that this was the kind of man I wanted to become.
Boys and girls, if you do good things on your own, your parents will eventually praise you for it. In part because of my mission, my mother became active in the Church. Honoring your parents doesn’t always mean doing exactly what they do. It means doing what Heavenly Father wants you to do. Even if your mom and dad don’t go to church, you still can. Even if they don’t keep the Word of Wisdom, you still can. If you will stand on your own two feet and be good, you will bring great honor to your parents’ name.

In contrast, President Heber J. Grant said of Hyrum Smith:
"There is no better example of an older brother's love than that exhibited in the life of Hyrum Smith for the Prophet Joseph Smith...They were as united and as affectionate and as loving as mortal men could be...There never was one particle of...jealousy...in the heart of Hyrum Smith. No mortal man could have been more loyal, more true, more faithful in life or in death than was Hyrum Smith to the Prophet of the living God."[14] In D&C 124:15 the Lord said;
"And again, verily I say unto you, blessed is my servant Hyrum Smith; for I, the Lord, love him because of the integrity of his heart, and because he loveth that which is right before me, saith the Lord."
Hyrum responded to every need and request from his younger brother, Joseph. Though Hyrum did not have the spiritual witnesses of Oliver he spent his time moving forward the work of the church. He preached the gospel through several missions, recruited members for Zion's camp, when the Kirtland Temple was announced he immediately took his scythe and cleared the weeds and began digging the temple's foundation. He served as an Assistant President of the Church and served under his younger brothers, the Prophet Joseph. President Faust said, "He was ever a source of strength and comfort to his brother, whether in Church service or in the Liberty Jail. As persecutions came and Joseph fled the mob at Nauvoo in 1844, Hyrum went with him...[in] Carthage...they died as martyrs within minutes of one another. Hyrum had been faithful to his trust even to the laying down of his life. In all respects he was a disciple of the Savior."[15]
Oliver forgot, but eventually remembered but lost his exalted place in the church. Hyrum never forgot who and what he was and become a martyred witness for the truth.

In January 2019, Brother Santosh came to Kolkata from Odisha to receive the ordinance of baptism. He came to know about the gospel in a very challenging time of his life. During that time, the scriptures comforted him and helped him to overcome the hardships he faced. The story of Alma’s faith has taught us that when we sow love, we receive love. And just like Alma, Brother Santosh had felt the same love of the Savior. His quest to know about the only true Church, led him to contact the Elders through internet. As he came to know more about the gospel, he felt the Spirit testify to him about the truthfulness of the gospel and the Church. He feels extremely happy about his decision and truly blessed to be a part of the Church.

Developing the habit of scripture study is a struggle with many roadblocks. I remember one roadblock that came during my second semester of ninth grade.
My family moved to Omaha, Nebraska, from Dubuque, Iowa.
Omaha schools were far ahead of our small Iowa township, and dreams of staying on the honor roll soon turned to prayers for passing and getting a good grade in seminary.
Just a few days after I had started school, my English teacher announced a new reading-for-credit program. Needing the extra points to make a decent grade, I needed to read a book, but my schedule was already loaded with make-up work and I wasn’t a fast reader.
After asking the Lord for help, an idea came to me.
I approached my English teacher and said, “May I read the Bible instead of a novel for extra-credit points?”
Leaning forward, peering over his half glasses, he asked, “Is this a trick question?”
“No,” I answered, “but it isn’t on your list, and I wasn’t sure how you would feel.”
He then told me that the Bible was one of the greatest literary works ever written. As far as he was concerned, it should be in a class by itself. “Of course you can read it,” he added.
It was the perfect solution to my school and seminary problem, and best of all, I started a steady habit of scripture study that touches my life at every turn.

A true story from the USA.
“Can we go draw with chalk?” Quinn asked Mom.
“Sure!” Mom said. “Let’s go.”
Quinn and his little brother and sister ran outside.
“I want blue!” yelled Quinn.
Kade and Chloe grabbed chalk too. They sat down and started drawing on the sidewalk. Mom picked up some red chalk and started writing.
“What are you doing?” asked Quinn.
“I’m writing happy words for the school kids when they walk home today,” Mom said.
Quinn could see the school from his front window. He liked waving to the kids as they walked by.
“What messages can we write to make them smile?” asked Mom.
Quinn read over Mom’s shoulder. “You’re …”
“Awesome!” Mom finished.
Quinn smiled and kept reading. “You rock. You can do it!”
Then Quinn got an idea. He started drawing a long line at one of Mom’s messages. He drew a line to the next one. Then he looped over to another.
“What are you doing?” Mom asked.
“I’m making a line for the kids to walk on,” Quinn said. He started running on the line. “See? I’m showing them where to find all the happy words.”
“I think that’s a great way to make everyone smile,” Mom said. And that made Quinn smile even bigger.
Illustrations by Asya Aizenstein

Four days after arriving in the valley, Wilford had been riding alone several miles from camp when he saw twenty American Indians on a ridge ahead of him. In coming west, the Saints knew they would encounter Native peoples along the trail and in the Great Basin. Yet they had expected to find the Salt Lake Valley largely unoccupied. In reality, the Shoshones, the Utes, and a few other tribes often came to the valley to hunt and gather food.
Cautiously turning his horse around, Wilford started back to camp at a slow trot. One of the Indians galloped after him, and when only a hundred yards separated them, Wilford halted his horse, turned to face the rider, and tried to communicate with improvised sign language. The man was friendly, and Wilford learned that he was a Ute who wanted peace and commerce with the Saints. Since then, the Saints had made additional contact with Indians, including the Shoshones from the north.14

Sometimes we have so many ideas and thoughts to share that we give in to the temptation to tell a lot of stories that have nothing in common. While they may all be effective if given at the proper time, their value is lost when given with many other unrelated stories. This results in the following situation:
A Nebraska farmer stepped into the town hall to hear the visiting speaker. The talk went on so long, however, that he sauntered outside for a bit of fresh air. A neighbor passing by asked, “Jim, what is he talkin’ about?”
“I don’t know,” came the reply. “He ain’t said.”

So, I started working towards bringing my children to the house of the Lord to be sealed as family. On Friday, August 15, 2014, Sister Kongolo and I went to the temple with our two children and they were sealed to us. It was an unforgettable experience. We spent three weeks in South Africa and managed to go to the temple four times a week and to attend at least two sessions each day. The Spirit we feel in the temple helps us to improve ourselves, and we can experience the reality, power, and hope of the Savior’s Atonement in our individual lives.

I grew up in Sacramento, California. At age 12, my mother felt impressed to move our family to Burley, Idaho, where cowboys are real and where we learned to work hard on a small orchard.

When I was 16, turning 17, I moved from my home in Burley to San Francisco to attend art school, with the hopes of eventually working for Disney. It was there that I realized, in a deep and personal way, that what I wanted in my life more than anyone or anything else was my Heavenly Father and Savior Jesus Christ.

I remember reading this scripture as I was searching for Their comfort and peace: “Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.” [26]

I knew They knew where I was. And that They loved me and would be with me.

And I began counseling with the Lord and asking Him where He wanted to me to go, what He wanted me to do. The answer was not to stay in San Francisco. After some tearful nights and heartfelt prayers, I followed the prompting to attend Ricks College. I loved and embraced my experience here, even when the icy wind froze my tears to the side of my face.

Though I had gone to San Francisco for an education and an exciting career, I gained something infinitely more valuable—a deeper knowledge of who I was as a daughter of a loving and attentive Father in Heaven. That Jesus Christ is my personal Savior and Redeemer and that He lived. And that my life would work out if I put my trust in God. My roots of faith grew deeply that season as I stepped into what felt like a new, wide, and rich plot of earth.

All of us must speak and act in the name of God in moments when our unaided judgment will not be enough without inspiration. Those moments can come upon us when there is not time to make preparation. That has happened to me often. It did many years ago in a hospital when a father told me and my companion that the doctors had told him that his critically injured three-year-old daughter would die within minutes. As I placed my hands on the one spot on her head not covered with bandages, I had to know, as God’s servant, what He would do and say.

The words came to my mind and my lips that she would live. The doctor standing by me snorted in disgust and asked me to get out of the way. I walked out of that hospital room with a feeling of peace and love. The little girl lived and walked down the aisle into a sacrament meeting on my last day in that city. I still remember the joy and satisfaction I felt from what I had said and done in the Lord’s service for that little girl and her family.

The difference in my feelings at the hospital and the sadness I felt as I walked away from that door as a deacon came from what I had learned about the connection of prayer to priesthood power. As a deacon, I had not yet learned that the power to speak and act in God’s name requires revelation and that to have it when we need it requires praying and working in faith for the companionship of the Holy Ghost.

During her last class that day, Kim had a hard time staying awake. It wasn’t too surprising since she’d been out late the night before with Derek.
She looked around for something to keep her eyes open. In the vacant desk across the aisle from her, she noticed a tattered notebook that someone from a previous class must have left. She picked it up and started thumbing through what was some kind of personal journal. There was no name on the cover.
I shouldn’t read this, she thought to herself. But she did.
September 11At church today the bishop talked about chastity. He told us to be faithful to the person you’re going to marry even though you don’t know who it’s going to be. Sounds like maybe a good idea, but it would be a lot easier if I at least knew her name and what state she lived in. I hope she’s doing the same thing for me wherever she is. I wonder what she’s doing this very minute.
Kim read the entry over again. This is written by a guy, she thought, a guy who goes to church and thinks about chastity. She shook her head. There’s nobody like that in this school, at least not that I’ve ever met.
She forgot about being sleepy and also about Mr. Hadley’s lecture as she read the next entry in the journal.
September 15I’ve got a chance to get a job after school and on Saturdays. I’d be working at Sooper Dooper. If I work, it’ll mean I won’t be able to go out for basketball so I don’t know if I want to do it or not. One thing’s for sure, I need to save some money for my mission.
September 21Started watching a movie on TV tonight. In the movie a guy meets a girl, and five minutes later the two of them are talking about sleeping together. Well, that was enough for me. I turned off the TV and ran two miles. It started to rain while I was out there. I got wet, but I didn’t care because it was so nice out. There was nobody else outside except me. I guess they were all inside watching TV.
This guy isn’t real, she thought. I’ve never met a guy who turns off the TV in that kind of scene.
The bell rang and everyone got up to leave. Kim knew she should give the notebook to Mr. Hadley, but she wanted to read some more. She took it with her and stuffed it in her book bag just as Derek showed up to take her home.
He was excited. “Guess what. I just got a long-distance call in the football office. You’ll never guess who it was. Go ahead, guess.”
“I don’t know.”
“The offensive coordinator from Tennessee. Can you believe it? He wants me to fly out there and visit the campus. He says they think I’d fit in real good with their program. They want me.”
“That’s great, Derek. Way to go.” She hugged him.
“You know what this means? It means I’m going to be a superstar. We have to celebrate.”
“I’m really happy for you, Derek. But I’m just not in the mood for celebrating,” she said.
“Why not? What’s the problem?”
“Nothing. I just don’t feel like it today, that’s all.”
“There must be a reason.”
“I just don’t want to. All we’ll end up doing is making out. Can’t we go out on a real date?”
“Date? Okay, I’ll get us a couple of six-packs and some nachos.”
“No, Derek. Not today. I have to study tonight anyway.”
“Maybe you’ll change your mind.”
They started outside to Derek’s car. “Derek, you know most of the guys who go out for sports. Have you ever known any basketball players on the team who believe in chastity?”
Derek was puzzled. “Chastity? What’s that?”
“It’s waiting until you’re married,” she said.
“That’s a joke, right?”
“No, I’m serious.”
“Come on, Kim. There’s nobody like that around here.”
“That’s what I thought too, but now I think maybe there’s at least one.”
“Well, even if there is, so what? He’s nobody you’d be interested in.”
“Why do you say that?” Kim asked.
“Admit it, Kim. One of the reasons you like going with me is because when we walk into a dance after a game, everybody turns and looks at us. Everyone in school wishes they were like us. We’re the ones who make things happen. Let’s face it. You like the attention as much as I do.”
She decided to bring the journal notebook home with her. As they walked to his car, Derek draped an arm around her shoulder. As soon as they got in his car, he leaned over and kissed her. “Are you sure you don’t want to go with me now?” he asked softly.
“I’m sure.”
After dinner Kim went to her room and read more from the notebook.
October 7Went to general priesthood meeting with Dad. Afterward he took me out for pizza. We had a good time. I can’t believe it, but he played video games with me while we waited for our pizza. He’s pretty bad at it, but at least he tried.
October 22Took Tamra to homecoming. We had a good time, but I wish she didn’t live so far away. If there were just one more member of the Church at school, someone I could talk with sometime, like at lunch.
Kim wanted to know more about the boy who’d written this. She remembered a girl who had a class in the same room just before her class. She phoned. “Does anybody sit in the fourth desk in the row next to the door in social studies?”
“How should I know?”
“Just think about it, okay?”
“Fourth desk, huh? Let me think. Karen Wilson sits in that seat. Why do you want to know?”
“No reason. I’m looking for a guy who sits in that desk. It must be in one of the earlier classes.”
“How can you think about anyone else when you have Derek?” the voice on the phone questioned.
Kim started to watch TV. After about 10 minutes, a man and a woman ended up in bed together. He wouldn’t watch this, she thought to herself. She turned the TV off and went to her bedroom, where she read some more.
November 6Sometimes being the only member of the Church in school is really hard. All the friends I had in junior high are all drinking now. It seems like I’m the only one left who isn’t.
November 9Went to see the bishop for a birthday interview. I told him how hard it is to be the only Church member in school and how alone I feel sometimes and how much I wish there was a girl here who believed the same as I do. He suggested I write letters to the girl I’m going to marry and give them to her after I’m married. So maybe I’ll do that. Here goes.
To the girl I’m going to marry someday:
I don’t even know your name or where you live or anything about you, but I know you’re growing up some place the same as me. Do you ever get discouraged? I do. I have friends at school but nobody I can really talk to about what I’m thinking because none of them believe the same way. I just want you to know I’m trying to live the way I should. I’m doing okay so far, but it’s not easy sometimes. All my friends are drinking now, so there’s not much I can do with them anymore on the weekends. I run along a bike path when I need to think. I really wish we could spend some time together now.
I’ll be glad when I finally get to meet you. I want to live so I never do anything that I’d be ashamed to tell you about.
There are a lot of things I need to do now to prepare for the future. Right now the biggest thing is to save up for my mission. And after that I need to try to figure out what I want to do for a living.
I’ve been thinking about you lately and about when we get married. Sometimes it’s hard not to think about the things that go with marriage. But I guess I can stand holding off until you’re my wife. My bishop says it’s worth waiting, to make it the way God wants it to be.
Guess what. I love you even if I don’t know your name or where you live.
Love, your future husband,Mike
She read through the entire journal. The last entry had been written just a week before.
February 17The missionaries came and asked us to try to find somebody they can teach. We all said we’d try. I wish I could find someone at school who wants to know about the Church, but about the only time anybody mentions Mormons is when classes study about the pioneers. Our family set a date to introduce somebody to the gospel. It’s two weeks from now. We don’t know who it’s going to be, but we’re praying as a family that one of us will be able to find someone.
Kim set the notebook down. Now she felt a little guilty for invading someone’s privacy. But she also felt she’d never known anyone as well as she knew this person. She would have liked to read it every night, but she promised herself that she’d turn it in to lost and found.
What do I know about him so far? she thought as she stood at the window looking at the street. His first name is Mike. He took a girl named Tamra to homecoming. He has a birthday in November. He never went out for basketball. Instead he works at Sooper Dooper.
She went through her high school yearbook from last year and wrote down a list of everyone with the first name of Mike or Michael.
The phone rang. It was Derek.
“Michigan wants me too!”
“That’s great, Derek. I’m really glad for you.”
“I just got off the phone with one of the coaches. He’s flying out to see me next week. Tennessee would be okay, but playing for Michigan is what I’ve always dreamed of since I was a little kid. Can you imagine playing in front of 106,000 people? You could go to college there too. We have to celebrate now, Kim. I’ll be over in a minute to pick you up.”
Kim knew what that meant. “Derek, you could come over and be here with my family, but I don’t want to go out.”
“Look, there are plenty of girls who’d jump at a chance to go out with me.”
“I know that.”
“So what’s your problem all of a sudden?”
“I know you’re a super athlete and everything, but I don’t know, maybe that isn’t enough.”
“Not enough? What are you talking about? What else is there to life if it’s not this? You, me, football.”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll be sure to tell you if I ever find out.”
“Look, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but some girl is going to party with me tonight. If it’s not you, then it’ll just have to be somebody else.”
“I don’t always have to do what you want me to do.”
“What’s going on here anyway? This is the biggest day of my life, and you’re trashing it.”
“Sorry, but I just don’t feel like going out with you tonight,” she said.
“Well, I guess that’s it then. I’ll find somebody else. No problem.”
“Is that all I am to you, Derek? Just somebody who’ll go along with whatever you have in mind to do?”
He swore at her and then hung up.
The next morning Kim decided to find out who’d written in the notebook. Before school started she lingered across the hall from the classroom where she’d found the notebook. A girl sat in the desk she was interested in.
During second period she got permission to leave her class for a few minutes. She walked by the room again. There was a boy sitting at the desk where she’d found the notebook. Somehow she knew he was the one she was looking for. At first she was disappointed. She couldn’t remember seeing him around. He’d never been at any of the parties she’d gone to. He wasn’t in student council with her. She didn’t even remember him from any of the dances or parties she’d attended. He wasn’t a star athlete like Derek.
“He’s just average,” she whispered to herself.
The class was taking a test so everyone’s eyes were on their papers. She stood there in the hall and stared at him. Kim couldn’t decide what to think. He’ll never be like Derek, she thought. If I went with him to a dance, none of the girls would tell me how lucky I am. Derek will probably play pro football. Someday he’ll be rich and famous. People will always look up to Derek.
But this guy is just another boy. He isn’t as tall or as well built as Derek. It’s not too late for me to get Derek back. I’d be crazy to break up with him for someone like this. Besides, this guy probably wouldn’t even want to go with me because I’m not a Mormon. At most, we’d just end up being friends, she reasoned. I’m not sure I could even live the way he does. He’s sort of cute, I guess, but on a scale of one to ten, Derek’s a nine-and-a-half and this guy’s a—I don’t know—a six. But at least if we were spending time together, we might go on a real date occasionally instead of always doing what Derek wants.
Her thoughts trailed off because she noticed him look up. He must have been aware that someone was staring at him because he glanced through the door at her.
Kim smiled and pointed to the notebook. “Is this yours?” she mouthed the words.
He smiled and nodded his head.
“I’ll wait for you,” she mouthed again.
He turned in his exam early and came out to see her. The halls were still empty, and they were alone.
“I found this,” she said. “I would have turned it into lost and found, but I saw it was like a diary and I didn’t want people reading it.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” She gave him the notebook. “Oh, my name is Kim.”
“I’m Mike Simon. Well, thanks for getting this back to me.”
She knew that if he walked away she’d probably never talk to him again. She didn’t want that to happen because at least once in her life she wanted to know what it was like to have a friend who didn’t demand a price for his friendship. She’d never had that before. She knew she was giving up Derek and all he could offer her, but more than anything she wanted to have a real friend.
Just then the bell rang, and the door flew open. People crowded on either side of them as they stood in the hall.
“Well, thanks again,” he said. He turned to walk away.
I can’t let him get away, she thought. “Wait,” Kim called out.
“What?”
“I’d like to talk to you sometime, but not now because I’m really busy this week.”
“I understand. You go with Derek Reeves, don’t you?”
“I did. We just broke up. Well, I have to run now too. The reason I’m so busy is because I’m doing a report in social studies about Mormons and I’m having a really hard time finding anything. Well, see you around sometime.”
She walked three steps before he realized what she’d said.
“Wait a minute,” he said.
She turned around.
“I could help you. I’m a Mormon.”
“No kidding? That would be great if you could help me.”
They leaned against the lockers in the hall and set up a time for her to go to his house and meet the missionaries so they could teach her about the Church.
In her next class she promised herself that sometime she would tell him the truth about what had happened with the journal. But not now. Right now she just wanted to see what it was like to have a friend like him.
Maybe he’s the real superstar in this school, she thought, smiling. Maybe he’s a superstar in the things that really matter.