Gospel Story Finder

The weeks before Christmas were predictably hectic. I knew from past experience that there would be heavy demands on my time, but I had hoped that this year would be different. I wanted to be well organized—to have my shopping and Christmas preparations done far enough in advance that the pressures of my busy life would not interfere with the spirit of the Christmas season.
And this year was different—in fact, the pre-Christmas season presented more challenges than usual. As a member of the Tabernacle Choir, I had learned years ago that I must be ready to spend many hours at the Tabernacle at this time of year. The month of December is always crowded with special programs, extra rehearsals, and Christmas concerts. But this year, in addition to these activities, the choir was also preparing to leave on a concert tour to Israel on the day after Christmas! We had difficult music to learn which required several months of extra rehearsals. All of this, combined with my full-time work schedule and preparations for a work assignment following the choir’s tour, allowed me very little time for the joyful preparations for Christmas or for my family.
My widowed mother watched quietly as I tried to juggle my life in order to work everything in. I knew that she would like to have had me make more frequent visits, take her shopping once in a while, or just find the time to call on the phone more often. We always looked forward to having her come to dinner on Sundays, and she never complained about any lack of attention to her, but I knew that she was lonely and longed for companionship. Since my father died four years ago, there had been a great void in her life. They were eternal companions in every sense of the word. Whether working in the temple, beautifying their home, enjoying their children and grandchildren, or singing, they did it together! And now again, I knew that she was remembering the years gone by and those joyous Christmases with Dad. Those were times full of love and music as they sang together at many Christmas programs and family gatherings. And now she was alone.
My sister and I had helped Mother put up her Christmas tree and decorate her home for the holidays. We had done most of her shopping for her, but about two weeks before Christmas, Mother called, apologized for infringing on my busy schedule, and asked if I would mind taking her shopping for one afternoon. She wanted to add her personal touch to a few of the items we had already purchased. It was a welcome and delightful break from the frenzied schedule I had been keeping. We had lunch and spent a lovely afternoon together. The joy and the spirit of the season which I had not had time for before filled our hearts.
Just a few days after our afternoon together, Mother became ill with the flu. We were very concerned and kept a close watch on her at her home. She did not want to come and stay with us or with my sister, but insisted that she would be well soon. She apologized for being ill and for becoming a burden on us at such a busy time. After she suffered for several miserable days, her health seemed to improve, and we relaxed our vigil somewhat. She had predicted that she would be fine by Christmas, and that seemed to be the case.
The tempo and burdens of my life had only increased during the week that Mother was ill. It was three days before Christmas, the choir had just finished two Christmas concerts, I still had last-minute shopping to do, there were many projects to complete at the office, and in only four days we would be on our way to Israel. When my husband came into my office that afternoon, shut the door, and told me that Mother had passed away just an hour earlier, I had difficulty comprehending what he was saying. He had no explanations why this had happened—only the devastating news that she was gone. All that had been so important only minutes ago seemed to evaporate. I felt that time had stopped and that I had been suspended in some sort of vacuum.
For the next two days, my sisters and I went through the necessary motions and made preparations for Mother’s funeral. It was to be held the day after Christmas—the day the choir was leaving for Israel! Family members and friends enveloped us with love and concern, and we struggled to acknowledge the reality of what had happened. Under the circumstances, I had assumed I would not be able to make the trip to Israel; but very late one evening I received a telephone call telling me that arrangements had been made for me to travel and join the choir a few days later. I was so grateful for kind friends and their efforts in my behalf!
For the sake of the young children in the family as well as our own, we wanted Christmas to be as normal as possible. We continued to make preparations for our traditional Christmas Eve family dinner and for Christmas day, but we felt so empty—so alone. It just could not be the same! Each of us—and especially the children—felt the terrible emptiness and tried to understand why our mother and grandmother had been taken at this time.
Because of the holiday, we were advised to postpone having a viewing until just before the services, but the funeral directors invited us to come to the funeral home at any time the day before—Christmas day—and spend some time alone with Mother. Following our dinner on Christmas night, we left the children playing with their gifts and went to the funeral home.
We stood quietly around her casket and looked at our beautiful mother in her temple robes. She looked so serene, so happy. There was a spirit of peace and of love in that room—even one of happiness and joy. I closed my eyes and tried to picture the recent glorious reunion that must have taken place between my mother and father. I had the impression that if I listened carefully, I could again hear the angels singing as they did on that holy night long ago, and that the beautiful voices of my mother and father had joined that heavenly chorus. I imagined I could hear them singing, “Silent night! Holy night! … Sleep in heavenly peace.”
The understanding and comfort I had prayed for seemed to come to me as I stood there, and my worldly cares seemed far away. On that silent night, gathered with my loved ones, I thanked my Father in Heaven for that moment of heavenly peace.

I think of that great immortal athlete, Babe Ruth, when I talk about the principle of success and particularly failure. Let me just share a little experience from his life.

It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon in the summer of 1927, and 35,000 wildly excited baseball fans packed Shibe Park. They were giving Babe Ruth the “razzberry”—and good! Lefty (Bob) Grove, one of the greatest left-handed pitchers of all time, had just struck out Babe Ruth on three consecutive pitched balls for the second successive time. Two runners were stranded on the bases.

As the great slugger returned to the bench, amidst wild and abusive jeering, he looked up into the stands with an unruffled smile, just as he did the first time, gave his cap a polite little tip from his perspiring brow, stepped down into the dugout, and calmly took a drink of water.

In the eighth inning, when he came up for his third time at bat, the situation was critical. The Athletics were leading the Yankees, 3–1. The bases were full and two were out. As Babe selected his favorite bat and started toward the plate, the crowd rose in a body, as if by signal. The excitement was tremendous!

“Strike ’im out again!” pleaded the fans to Grove. Strutting around the pitcher’s box, it was easy to see that the big southpaw believed he was just going to do that.

As the mighty batter took his position, the crowd became hysterical. There was a pause. Mickey Cochrane, the A’s great catcher, crouched to give the signal. Grove threw one with lightning speed. Ruth swung; it was a foul tip. “Str—ike one!” roared the umpire. Again the signal, and the pitch was too fast to follow. Again, Babe took that magnificent swing—and missed. “Stri—i-i-ke two!” was the call.

Ruth staggered and went down. He had literally swung himself off his feet. There was a cloud of dust as the big fellow sprawled on the ground. The crowd was going mad. Finally, regaining his feet, the “Bambino” brushed the dust off his trousers, dried his hands, and got set for the next pitch. Grove delivered the ball so fast not a single fan could see it. Babe swung—but this time he connected! It was only a split second before everybody seemed to realize what had happened. That ball was never coming back.

It disappeared over the scoreboard and cleared the houses across the street—one of the longest hits ever recorded.

As Babe Ruth trotted around the bases and across the plate behind the other runners—with what proved to be the winning run—he received a wild ovation from the crowd.

Ruth doffed his cap with that little smile, and the expression on his face was exactly like the one he wore on his first two trips, when he had gone down swinging.

Later in the season, after the Yanks clinched the American League pennant, Grantland Rice, interviewing the Babe, asked, “What do you do when you get in a batting slump?”

Babe replied: “I just keep goin’ up there and keep swingin’. I know the old law of averages will hold good for me the same as it does for anybody else, if I keep havin’ my healthy swings. If I strike out two or three times in a game, or fail to get a hit for a week, why should I worry? Let the pitchers worry; they’re the guys who’re gonna have to pay for it later on.”

This unshakable faith in making the law of averages work for him enabled Babe Ruth to accept his bad breaks and failures with a smile. This simple philosophy had much to do with making him baseball’s greatest slugger. His attitude of taking both good and bad in stride made him one of the game’s greatest heroes.

Why is it, when we read about great athletes or men in other professions, we are seldom told about their failures? For example, we now read of the amazing record of the immortal Babe Ruth, with his total of 714 home runs; but another unapproached world’s record of his is carefully buried, and that is that he struck out more times than any other player in history—1,330 times!

One thousand three hundred and thirty times he suffered the humiliation of walking back to the bench amidst jeers and ridicule. But he never allowed fear or discouragement or failure to keep him down.

Cindy Shropshal, 18, Perth. For Cindy, fellowship in the Church started with friendship in school. She became good friends with a boy in her English class—Cliff Allen. One night they went out with another classmate, who had a reputation as a drinker. Cliff insisted on an alcohol-free night. When they asked Cliff why he didn’t drink, Cindy recalls, “He started telling me about the Church. I started to feel the Spirit. I thought about it a lot that evening. I had been searching for the true church. That night I knew this was the church I should join.”

After my wife joined me in Utah, we went to California to visit her family, and it was there that I received an unexpected call from Elder Ian S. Ardern, Pacific Area President. He asked when I was returning to Fiji then said he urgently needed to meet with me. I told him I was returning to Utah the following week, so President Ardern said he would contact me then.
I did not sleep well after that call. My mind was troubled. My whole attitude for the remaining days of my holiday changed.
It was Elder Carl B. Cook of the Presidency of the Seventy who contacted me next, and my wife and I drove to Church headquarters to meet with him. What a humbling experience it was to be called to serve as an Area Seventy. While I had never turned down a calling in my 42 years of Church membership, this was different. I was overwhelmed with feelings of inadequacy; I felt unprepared. I wept openly in the presence of my wife and Elder Cook. Was this really happening?
All my life I had looked up to the General Authorities and the General Officers of the Church—they were elected by God and were revered throughout the Church. All my callings up till then had been local. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined holding an Area ecclesiastical calling.
I struggled to accept what was asked of me, but doubt in my ability to fulfil this calling began to subside and instead, I was overcome by gratitude for my Savior, for His love and tender mercies. I felt a righteous determination to serve the Lord in this capacity. This was an opportunity for me to demonstrate my love for Him and for His Church. The scripture that came to my mind with great force was Doctrine and Covenants 82:3, “For of him unto whom much is given much is required.”
I was sustained during the April 2020 general conference, which was the first ever virtual conference held by the Church. My training as a new Area Seventy was also held virtually as the COVID-19 pandemic was at its peak. My first year in the calling was truly miraculous; the support I received from the Pacific Area Presidency, my fellow Area Seventies, and visiting General Authorities was amazing. Traveling to stake conferences and attending general conferences in person were highlights of this time, filled with wonderful learning and growing experiences.
However, deep inside, I still struggled, especially in my moments of personal reflection. I still felt insecure and inadequate in my service as an Area Seventy.
It was not until the last session of the General Authority, Area Seventy and General Officers Leadership Training, during the April 2021 general conference, that I finally received the spiritual witness I had been seeking since my call. I will never forget that moment.
This session’s agenda was for all 15 apostles and prophets to bear their testimonies and witness of Jesus Christ. The solemnity and sacredness of this occasion is glorious. It was Elder Neil L. Andersen’s testimony that changed my perspective and gave me the reassurance that I was searching for.
Elder Andersen explained how he felt when he was called to The Quorum of The Twelve Apostles. He said when he first sat in the seat that Elder Ulisses Soares now occupies, he looked up the row at the other 11 Apostles and the First Presidency, and feelings of personal inadequacy overwhelmed him. When I heard Elder Andersen say that, I sat up straight in my chair because I knew that what he had just said—and what he was going to say next—was specifically for me.
Elder Andersen said he struggled with this issue for a while and then it came: He heard the voice of the Lord say, “Neil, you did not put yourself there. I did, because I love you, and I know you can change, and I know you can help with my work.”
When Elder Andersen shared that sacred experience, it became sacred to me also. It was the confirmation that I needed.
I know that Heavenly Father and His Son did not call me because of anything I had done to qualify for this role, but it was because They love me. They know I can change, and They know I can help Them in Their glorious work: to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of all Their children. (See Moses 1:39.)

Will Strickland flipped switches, turned dials, and moved levers on the lighted control panel; the metal robot sitting at the far end of the living room stood up and walked ponderously toward him. Will’s fingers moved rapidly among the controls as he piloted the robot in a slow circle about the room.
At last!
He finally had the robot perfected to the point where it could walk more than six steps without falling on its chrome steel skull. …

The selection of a site for the New Zealand Temple illustrates this point. President Wendell B. Mendenhall of the San Joaquin Stake was assigned by President David O. McKay to investigate possible temple sites in the lands of the South Seas. He investigated potential locations in Auckland, New Zealand, where the mission headquarters are located but felt no satisfaction.
“Then one day I felt I should go to Hamilton to visit the college. While in the car on the way, the whole thing came to me in an instant: The temple should be there by the college. The Church facilities for construction were already there, and that was the center of the population of the mission. Then, in my mind, I could see the area even before I arrived, and I could envision the hill where the temple should stand. As soon as I arrived at the college and drove over the top of the hill, my vision was confirmed. In my heart I felt that the Lord had especially made this hill for his temple, everything about it was so majestic and beautiful.” (Allie Howe, “A Temple in the South Pacific,” Improvement Era, Nov. 1955, p. 811.)

“We won’t have any openings for months, and if you work here, you would have to work on Sundays.” The manager of the first store to which I applied for a job sent me on my way.
It was the summer before my senior year in high school, and I had been driving all over town filling out applications. My plan was to save up enough money to be able to attend college when I graduated. On each application, I indicated I could not work on Sundays. I was firm in my commitment to keep the Sabbath day holy.
A few days later, I handed a completed application to the manager of another store. He quickly scanned the paper and in disbelief asked, “You can’t work on Sundays?”
Without hesitation, I answered, “No.”
He laughed derisively and replied, “You’ll never get a job in this town!”
Feeling deflated, I left the store and climbed into my car. I said a quick prayer out loud, “Heavenly Father, what am I going to do?”
The unmistakable feeling from the Spirit came, and I knew everything would be all right. The prompting was so strong that I responded out loud, “OK.”
About one week later, I received a telephone call. It was the manager from the first store. He said that some of their young cashiers had been stealing money from the registers and that he had fired them. He asked me if I would like to come work for him, adding that I would only have to work on Sundays if there was an emergency. I worked at that store for about one year and only worked one Sunday.
When I began my job search, I decided I would simply have to find a position that did not require Sunday work. I know now that the Lord had a hand in helping me find that job. I have a sure testimony, just as Nephi, 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” (1 Nephi 3:7).

In the last area of my mission, Molo, Iloilo, in the Philippines, I prayed hard that before I was released we could baptize and confirm a family. My companion and I prayed one day that we would be directed to the honest in heart, someone who was ready to accept the gospel. We were impressed to knock at a certain house with a bamboo fence. A man came down the stairs, opened the door for us, and invited us to come in.
We befriended him and learned that he was a lawyer. He asked many questions that we sometimes could not answer, and when he spoke, it was with such eloquence as to discourage any missionary. He became a difficult investigator. We introduced the Book of Mormon, but he said, “The Bible alone is enough.” He would never read or even touch the Book of Mormon, as if his hand would be burned.
One day an assistant to the mission president came to work with Elder Alcos, my junior companion. They met with this man, and afterward the assistant frankly told us, “I don’t think that man is prepared to accept the gospel.” I pondered his words, but a sweet, peaceful, reassuring feeling came to me as I recalled our prayer petitioning Heavenly Father to direct us to those who were ready to accept the gospel. I knew our prayer had been answered. I felt that there was something we needed to share with this man. We just did not know what it was or how to do it. But we did not give up on him.
Slowly his heart began to change, and he learned to love the family home evening program that we introduced to him. As the days passed, I felt discouraged that we could not baptize and confirm this family before I left. I had only a few more days before my release. One day I sadly told him, “Brother Garcia, I think I failed my mission.”
He said, “No, Elder Cruz, you did not fail. We have developed a friendship.” We were delighted at his next words: “Don’t worry. We will go to your church on Sunday.”
He and his family did come to church, and the members received them warmly. I saw him shed tears as he listened to the inspiring words spoken during sacrament meeting. He went home happy and uplifted that day. I knew his heart had been touched.
When the time was right and we felt he was ready, we challenged him to be baptized and confirmed. He accepted the challenge. We also challenged him to fast and pray and read the Book of Mormon. My companion and I fasted for him and his family.
May 4, 1986, was my last Sunday in the mission field. It was fast and testimony meeting, and I bore my sincere final testimony to the people I had learned to love. After I testified, I saw this lawyer, who had at first been unreceptive to our message, stand up and walk to the pulpit, holding the Book of Mormon. His whole frame was shaking, and there were tears in his eyes as he raised the Book of Mormon and cried, “Brothers and sisters, I know the Book of Mormon is true.” We rejoiced to hear this testimony.
That afternoon many members of the ward attended the baptism of the Garcia family.
After I was released from my mission, I corresponded regularly with Brother Garcia. He gladly told me when he became a Sunday School president. Later he was called as bishop. He traveled many hours by boat to attend my wedding in the Manila Philippines Temple. Eventually he was called to serve as a stake president and as a counselor in the Philippines Bacolod Mission presidency.
He has been an instrument in the conversion of many people to the restored gospel. The man who acted as if his hand would be burned if he touched the Book of Mormon became a great witness to the divinity and truth of that book.

I joined the Church when I was 19, the second of three sons and the only Latter-day Saint in my family. Shortly after being baptized, I began to feel the desire to serve a mission. After a year, the Spirit told me I should go. I talked with my mother, who felt it was not right that I go. I deferred for another year, but the desire to serve a mission never left me. During that year, I studied the scriptures, saved my money, prepared my papers, had all the medical exams, and—after everything else was completed—I waited on the Lord. Before long, I received a call to serve in the Brazil Campinas Mission.
My parents were still opposed. I fasted and prayed openly, telling Heavenly Father about all my fears. I asked Him to touch the heart of my earthly father. He did. To my surprise, my father attended the farewell party that my friends had prepared for me on the Saturday prior to my departure. And that Monday, my dad took me to the airport.
During my mission, I felt the love of God as I preached the gospel. My mom did not stop being a mother, and when I returned home, she was the first person to hug me.
I learned that serving a mission is much more than a duty; it is a privilege and a marvelous time of growth and learning.
Cleison Wellington Amorim Brito, Paraíba, Brazil

But Arthur’s Seat has been the site of some lesser-known important events. On May 3, 1840, Orson Pratt arrived in Scotland as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He organized the first Scottish branch of the Church in Paisley. Then, after laboring in several other cities, Elder Pratt made his way to Edinburgh, where he found it very difficult to get the people to listen to the message of the restored gospel.
Sometimes when things seemed difficult, he would climb to the top of Arthur’s Seat. There, looking out across the city of Edinburgh, he could see the high peaks of mountains on the horizon and the Firth of Forth stretching to join the North Sea. Below, the tracks of one of Scotland’s first railroad lines ran through one of the earliest railroad tunnels. The echo of rifle practice may have risen up to greet Elder Pratt from Hunter’s Bog, while the ruins of St. Anthony’s chapel silently blended into the background on a lower ridge where sheep grazed. Holyrood Palace, the royal residence, lay at the foot of the hill, and across the way Edinburgh Castle guarded the top of another hill. On top of Arthur’s Seat, Elder Pratt prayed that the people would be receptive to the gospel. He then went down into the city and preached for endless hours, trying to establish the gospel in this important city of Edinburgh.
In one of his prayers, Elder Pratt pleaded with the Lord to help him find two hundred converts. After working very hard for ten months, Elder Pratt left Edinburgh having seen more than two hundred people enter into the covenant of baptism.

Some years ago I had the privilege of serving as deacons quorum adviser. In our quorum we had three active deacons, all of whom were called to be part of the quorum presidency.
In one of their meetings, this young presidency decided they wanted at least two of the less-active deacons in their quorum to begin attending Church meetings and activities. They prayerfully set a date—a Sunday six weeks away—by which to achieve their goal. They prayed for success in this sacred endeavor and prayerfully pledged to do the following:
Pray together regularly.
Fast together.
Visit each deacon on the roll.
Plan activities so that any returning deacons would enter a well-structured program.
The presidency felt deeply that these goals were the will of the Lord, so they moved forward with faith and confidence.
During the following weeks, these three young men did what they had promised, expecting that their prayers would be answered. They prayed together, fasted together, visited the less-active deacons and invited them back, and prepared activities, believing that they needed to be prepared for an increase in attendance.
Despite their diligence, no deacons returned—not to church or to any other activity. The date approached, and though they were disappointed that members of their quorum were not returning to church, the young men remained confident that Heavenly Father would answer their prayers.
The Sunday of their goal arrived, and none of the young men whom the presidency had reached out to came to church. But the bishop announced during sacrament meeting that two 12-year-old young men who had been investigating the Church would be baptized that evening.
What a blessing it was for these two new members of the Church to join a quorum with such a presidency. And what a blessing it was for the presidency to see their efforts and prayers answered so directly and to learn that the Lord keeps His promises.
Such was the excitement in the quorum that one member of the presidency said, “Let’s do this again.”

Perhaps you will remember the story of Corrie ten Boom, a 50-year-old spinster who became a militant heroine of the anti-Nazi underground during World War II. I would like to share with you two examples of how love worked in her life to help her do good when she had been extremely ill used.

The first time was when she was a young woman in Holland. She was very much in love and had thought her love was returned. But then one day the young man came to her door with another young woman. He wanted to introduce Corrie to his fiancée. The family rallied around to help her face this crisis. After the young couple left, Corrie fled to her bedroom, where she lay sobbing. She writes: “Later, I heard Father’s footsteps coming up the stairs. For a moment I was a little girl again waiting for him to tuck the blankets tight. But this was a hurt that no blanket could shut out, and suddenly I was afraid of what Father would say. … Of course he did not say the false, idle words.

“‘Corrie,’ he began instead, ‘do you know what hurts so very much? It’s love. Love is the strongest force in the world, and when it is blocked that means pain.

“‘There are two things we can do when this happens. We can kill the love so that it stops hurting. But then of course part of us dies, too. Or, Corrie, we can ask God to open up another route for that love to travel. … Whenever we cannot love in the old, human way, Corrie, God can give us the perfect way.’”

Now, some of you may not have a paper waiting for you. It may be a textbook with a math problem hidden in it. Let me tell you about a day in your future. You’ll have a teenage son or daughter who’ll say, “I hate school.” After some careful listening, you’ll find it is not school or even mathematics he or she hates—it’s the feeling of failure.

You’ll correctly discern those feelings, and you’ll be touched; you’ll want to freely give. So you’ll open the text and say, “Let’s look at one of the problems together.” Think of the shock you will feel when you see that the same rowboat is still going downstream in two hours and back in five hours, and the questions are still how fast the current is and how far the boat traveled. You might think, “Well, I’ll make my children feel better by showing them that I can’t do math either.” Let me give you some advice: they will see that as a poor gift.

In conclusion I want to encourage you to remember the importance of marriage and family and place them first in your priorities. I want to spare you an experience similar to one I had 15 years ago.

Our family was sharing a Christmas afternoon with another family, and at some point we started playing games like Trivial Pursuit. One game was based on Freudian psychology and involved identifying dominant personality traits. My wife and three sons independently wrote their estimation of my dominant personality trait on small pieces of paper. I was confident I would be labeled by my family as “kind,” “righteous,” “loving,” or similar positive traits.

Imagine my surprise when my wife’s paper said, “Bruce is a workaholic.” I thought to myself, “That ungrateful woman! The pleasant quality of life she enjoys is the fruit of my hard work.” But it was Christmas, and I did not want to spoil the day, so I did not respond.

My three boys confirmed her diagnosis! One son also used the hated workaholic word. The other two used similar words that made it clear that in their eyes my career, profession, or work was the most important aspect of my life. At this point, even though it was Christmas, I protested a little.

One of my sons replied, “Dad, we never went on a family vacation that did not involve your work.”

Again I wanted to reply: “True, but you—ungrateful son that you are—have been to Disneyland as well as to Walt Disney World, traveled to Central America, traveled Europe, visited the Holy Land, and lived two summers in a beach house on an island in the Pacific Northwest.” But it was Christmas, and I did not want to be a poor sport, so I remained silent.

In the days that followed I tried to justify how I lived my life to myself. But it did not do any good. No matter how I rationalized things, my dear family felt that my career was more important to me than they were. This is not and was not true. But the fact remained that that was the impression I had given by my actions. Since that time I have tried to make my priorities more visible. I occasionally say to Carolyn on Friday morning, “I will be done teaching at noon. Would you like to go to the temple this afternoon? Or go ride around the Alpine Loop, see a movie, or visit the gardens at Thanksgiving Point?” Or, if I am really feeling expansive, “Would you like to go shopping?”

I hope during the past 15 years that somehow I have altered the perceptions of my family. They are most important to me. I share this experience in the hope that you will be spared the anguish of confronting who you are at age 45 or 50 and being disappointed. I don’t want a list of my publications or administrative positions chiseled on my headstone. Rather, I hope that the following words reflect my life: “Bruce Chadwick, a devoted husband, loving father, and humble follower of Jesus Christ.”

Friendshipping
Everyone needs good friends. Your circle of friends will greatly influence your thinking and behavior, just as you will theirs. Treat everyone with kindness and dignity. Many nonmembers have come into the Church through friends who have involved them in Church activities. May I share with you a treasured family experience which had its beginning back in 1959 when I was called to preside over the Canadian Mission headquartered in Toronto.
Our daughter, Ann, turned five shortly after we arrived in Canada. She saw the missionaries going about their work and she, too, wanted to be a missionary. My wife demonstrated understanding by permitting Ann to take to class a few copies of the Children’s Friend. That wasn’t sufficient for Ann. She wanted to take a copy of the Book of Mormon, and she talked to her teacher, Miss Pepper, about the Church. I think it rather thrilling that just a few years ago, long years after our return from Toronto, we came home from a vacation and found in our mailbox a note from Miss Pepper which read:
“Dear Ann,
“Think back many years ago. I was your schoolteacher in Toronto, Canada. I was impressed by the copies of the Children’s Friend which you brought to school. I was impressed by your dedication to a book called the Book of Mormon.
“I made a commitment that one day I would come to Salt Lake City and see why you talked as you did and why you believed in the manner you believed. Today I had the privilege of going through your visitors’ center on Temple Square. Thanks to a five-year-old girl who had an understanding of that which she believed, I now have a better understanding of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
Miss Pepper died not too long after that visit. How happy our daughter Ann was when she attended the Jordan River Temple and performed the temple work for her beloved teacher whom she friendshipped long ago.

Second, get involved. Each of us seems to learn the importance of giving of ourselves and the value of working with others at different points in life. While I still have much room for improvement in this area, I had an experience or two as a student here that have helped to shape my attitude about getting involved.

I returned from my mission in October and decided to live at home and commute to school from Saint Anthony for a few classes during the second block. On one of my first days on campus, I was approached by a student body officer I knew who said, "Hey Shane. You should consider getting involved in campus activities. We need someone to chair the annual Christmas Tree Lane event. Would you be interested in doing that?"

My first thought was, "Oh no. Not me. I remember coming to that event on this campus from the time I was just a young boy and it was bigger than life. What would I know about doing something like that? I don't have time for that." Well, I must have been saying "no" on the inside and something kind of like "yes" on the outside because, before I knew it, I was being whisked into some office in the Manwaring Center and lined out for my new assignment. I soon found myself looking around campus for people to help on the committee and diving into something that turned out pretty well despite my weaknesses. I enjoyed it. I felt I was somehow investing in my future and helping with a needed project.

I went back for more. The following spring I threw my hat in the ring to run for student body president. And guess what happened? I didn't win. At that time at Ricks College, there were several elected student body offices and a couple of appointed positions on the council. A couple of days after the election, the student who did win the election asked to speak with me and asked me if I was willing to serve in the appointed capacity of Student Relations Officer. I agreed. For the next year, I was out of my comfort zone. I had a variety of experiences I could not have foreseen. I learned something about serving in a different way. I made new lifelong friends.

The Church UK Digital Channels interviewed Ben Shapiro of The Faith & Belief Forum, with Church UK Interfaith Director, Sister Tracey Prior, and Church member Suellen Moraes, a current ParliaMentors student, to help Liahona readers and Church UK and Ireland members understand the ParliaMentors leadership programme. We hope this article helps those who are interested in knowing something about it and consider participating in it.
ParliaMentors is a programme that was started 15 years ago by The Faith & Belief Forum in connection with Parliament. The programme teaches university students from different faiths and backgrounds to know how to make social changes as a group. They are mentored by a Member of Parliament who helps the students pursue their chosen community project. About 600 ParliaMentors students have already taken part throughout the country and across several faiths.
The ParliaMentors organisation started from a desire to help students of all faith groups to gain more experience and build networks in leadership. Students can apply those skills into areas that concern them.
Suellen (Su) Moraes is a member of the Church and a third-year student at Birmingham City University. She applied to the ParliaMentors programme after she followed a link sent to her by her stake president via a young adult group chat.
Su has been recognised as an outstanding ParliaMentors student, and Sister Tracey Prior and ParliaMentors Programme organiser, Ben Shapiro, wanted to show appreciation for her involvement.
Su, and three other students studying at Birmingham City University, knew that there were homeless people in the city. During the coronavirus pandemic, they recognised that homelessness would be a greater challenge.
At first, they wanted to collect supplies to give to the homeless, but this wasn’t possible with no one on campus. They kept looking for ways to help, however, and explored the matter through networking.
Su reconnected with a friend who worked with her a few years earlier. She discovered his passion for politics and was amazed at his desire to do meaningful work. That’s when she felt prompted to mention the homeless project. Her friend was able to link Su’s group to a company certified in construction-industry training. She was told that if the group had homeless people. they would train them free of charge.
Su then went back to her group to get their thoughts on the construction-industry training opportunity.
Su said that her three friends are very determined and resourceful people. She said, “They are true leaders with pure goodness in their hearts to help others. I am learning so much from them, and it has been a blessing to get to know them. We all pray to different deities, yet we all work together to do good. We have become a family.”
Su added that different personalities and backgrounds made seeing eye-to-eye on some tasks initially uncomfortable.
“Like every group relationship, we went through all the stages before we really came to have a perfect understanding and working relationship with one another.”
During a time of tension, Su decided to get the group together socially. After that, Su said, the tension ceased and there was harmony as they focused on being a force for positive change.
Ben Shapiro said he was impressed with how Su handled the situation, knowing it wasn’t easy. He said, “Situations like these can be the most challenging part of being in ParliaMentors, but it’s also a huge opportunity to learn, teach, and grow.”
The construction-training opportunity is a huge success, and Su’s group are pleased with their efforts. They said that giving the homeless in their areas skills would help them in the long run.
Now Su’s group is working with homeless charities to refer individuals to them so they can liaise with the construction company to enrol the candidates into courses.
Ben is very impressed with their efforts, mostly because networking was in socially distanced ways, primarily online.
Sister Prior congratulated Su, saying she was “changing someone’s future, not just today.”
Su’s group is continuing its referral project, even after graduation, to help homeless people to be trained for careers. They started a society at their university, and they hope it will continue with other ParliaMentors participants.
Nine universities currently support the ParliaMentors programme. However, it is open to all universities that wish to participate.
Students are put into groups of about five and go through a general three-day training event in the autumn. The student is taught how to recognise what they can do regarding the needs of their community. They learn who their local MP’s are, their powers and how they may help them improve their societies.
An MP is later assigned to mentor the group of students throughout the year and give them insight into making social changes and leadership.
Ben Shapiro says that this programme is a safe place for young people to create change to support a community. He said: “There will always be the element of tension in any social change. This is a necessary part of growth if you really wish to change things. The programme is a safe place to do that as support is offered to students regularly to help them see the advantages of disagreeing. ParliaMentors is a great place to disagree and work through it well.”
ParliaMentors provides a chance for a young student with little experience, not only to talk about change but also do it and improve people’s lives through coming together.
Ben adds, “the connections made with university leaders, diverse peers, and MPs opens up doors and makes them feel comfortable in those corridors of power. That’s what I want for all the students to get from the programme.”
Ben wants those interested in participating to know that people who take part see themselves and their own power differently afterwards. He says, “They can see something important that needs to change and then feel confident it’s something they can fix because they achieved it before through the programme.”
“That is maybe the most important achievement for us that lead the program, changing the perspective of how someone sees themselves,” Ben continues.
The programme runs throughout the school year and provides training in various areas, like safeguarding, media, and so on. Meetings are regular and flexible to take account of course exams.
The ParliaMentors’ year ends in spring, and programme graduation takes place at The House of Parliament in the summer.
Ben said that after graduation, ParliaMentors students go on to bigger things with the skills they have learned. He gave an example of one who went on to create a mental health charity. There are also interfaith projects in which students are invited to participate.
Ben says there is no limit to applications—the more, the merrier.
“Every year or two, there is always at least someone from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” concluded Ben.
Best link for more info about the programme and how to apply: https://faithbeliefforum.org/programme/parliamentors
More information on the charity behind the initiative: faithbeliefforum.org
Any members interested in volunteering as speakers in schools, or who are teachers who would like to bring some of our interfaith activities into their school, please visit the school part of The Faith & Belief Forum programme: https://faithbeliefforum.org/programmes/.

Elder Lynn Robbins of the Seventy tells this story of a stake president from Panama.
As a young man recently returned from his mission, he found the girl he wanted to marry. They were happy, but very poor.
Then came a particularly difficult time when their food and money ran out. It was a Saturday, and the cupboard was literally bare. Rene felt distraught that his young wife was hungry. He decided he had no other choice than to use their tithing money and go purchase food.
As he was leaving the house, his wife stopped him and asked him where he was going. He told her he was going to buy food. She asked him where he got the money. He told her that it was the tithing money. She said, “That is the Lord’s money—you will not use that to buy food.” Her faith was stronger than his. He put the money back, and they went to bed hungry that night.
The next morning they had no breakfast, and they went to church fasting. Rene gave the tithing money to the bishop, but he was too proud to tell the bishop that they were in need.
After the meetings he and his wife left the chapel and started to walk home. They hadn’t gone very far when a new member called to them from his house. This man was a fisherman and told them he had more fish than he could use. He wrapped five little fish in a newspaper for them, and they thanked him. As they continued to walk home, they were stopped by another member who gave them tortillas; then someone else stopped them and gave them rice; another member saw them and gave them beans.
When they arrived home, they had enough food for two weeks. They were even more surprised when they unwrapped the package of fish and found two very large fish and not the five smaller ones they thought they had seen. They cut the fish in portions and stored it in their neighbor’s freezer.
They have repeatedly testified that never since then have they gone hungry.

My friend Rachel Driggs has a book without any words or pictures. It looks like a real book on the outside, but on the inside the pages are empty. I laughed when she showed it to me the first time. I told her that even I could read a book like that, and I’m only five.
The other day Rachel showed me her book again. Now there are pictures of Rachel and her sister and brothers, and she has written something about them under their pictures. She also wrote about her vacation and school, and she even wrote about me!
Rachel is only six, so she does what you call dictating to her mother; then her mom writes it down and Rachel copies it into her book. Sometimes instead of writing she will draw pictures. She drew one of a birthday party she went to.
Rachel told me her book is called a personal journal—personal means that it’s yours and no one else should write in it unless they ask you. She said that our prophet, President Spencer W. Kimball, has asked everyone to keep a journal so we can leave our histories for others. Rachel’s brothers, who are ten and twelve, and her sister, who is sixteen, keep journals too.
Rachel’s mother does genealogy work. That’s where you learn about relatives and other people who have lived on earth. Rachel’s mom said if those people had all kept personal journals we could learn a lot more about them.
At first I thought Rachel’s empty book was kind of silly, but not anymore. Now it’s like a storybook all about her. I told my mom I want a journal, too, so I can write a storybook about me. She said she was glad that I wanted one and that it would be a treasured possession one day. Mom is even going to take dictation from me.
Hey! Why don’t you ask for a book with empty pages in it? I’ll bet you have a lot to write about too.

When the Newport Beach California Temple was under construction, the youth of the Orange California Stake did a little constructing of their own at youth conference. With the conference focus on temples, the youth were given two hours and challenged to build models of 12 temples.

Two hours later, the floor of the cultural hall was covered with Styrofoam “snowflakes,” but the 175 amateur builders had created masterpieces that wowed local architects.

Huddling in groups of about 15 each, the youth began the project. With only Styrofoam, glue guns, and bits of black paper, grass, and flowers, they created amazingly detailed replicas of the Bern Switzerland, Bountiful Utah, Edmonton Alberta, Houston Texas, Laie Hawaii, Los Angeles California, Mount Timpanogos Utah, Nauvoo Illinois, Oakland California, St. George Utah, Salt Lake, and Washington D.C. Temples.

The youth found that as they built the temples and began to focus on the beauty and peace they symbolize, they became more unified and creative. “We understand more now what it will mean to have our own temple here in Orange County,” said one participant.