Gospel Story Finder

I have learned to think more about the future and my choices because I was so close to death. At school, I heard girls complaining about how they were having a “bad hair day.” As I was sitting there in my hot pink wheelchair with a wig on my head, I would think, “Well at least you have hair!” Girls would also complain about their feet hurting from walking around in high heels. I would think to myself, “At least you can walk.” Now I try to focus more on the big picture instead of the small things I used to worry about.

While I served as a bishop, I watched a young man in my ward progress as a deacon, teacher, and priest. He then prepared to serve a mission. He was shy and quiet, and he came from a family that wasn’t very active in the gospel.
The Sunday he was going to speak before leaving on his mission, I asked if his talk was prepared.
“Yes,” he said. He opened a manila folder and showed me his talk.
“That’s wonderful,” I said. “But I want to do an experiment. Will you speak from your heart instead?”
“You want me to do what?” he said.
“I trust you,” I said. “Just speak from your heart. I know you will do great things in this meeting. I’ll be right next to you if you need me.”
He gave me his talk. I’ll never forget how nervous he was as the other speakers spoke before him. But when it came time for him to speak, he got up and gave a powerful message. The whole congregation was captured by this shy boy who had become a spokesman for the Lord.
The real miracle came after the meeting. Three of his friends who had previously told me they weren’t going to serve missions came up to me with tear-filled eyes. Each of them said, “I want to go on a mission.” This young man’s testimony convinced them that they needed to serve. All three of them served successful missions. This young man is now a father and is still engaged in the gospel of Jesus Christ. He has also helped bring many members of his family back into the Church.

During her second year in Young Women, Amaru asked a lot of questions. Her testimony grew line upon line. She says, “I realized that I know the Book of Mormon is true. Then everything else started making more sense.” That year, when she went to young women camp, it solidified what she had been learning. She found that getting away from the routine of daily life, learning the gospel, and being with others who shared the same values helped her focus on her testimony.

“When you’re at young women camp, you know the other girls have the same values, the same needs, and the same dreams that you do,” Amaru says. “You get to know them very well, and when it’s time to leave, you don’t want to let them down because they know you and are helping you to be strong. You know they’re backing you up.”

In Alvin F. Meredith’s final year of high school in Tennessee, USA, he was selected as his school’s athlete of the year by a group of Christian student athletes.
Shortly afterward, his coach notified him that the state leadership of the group had disqualified him because they didn’t recognize The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints as a Christian faith.
His coach, “a really good Christian man,” asked the organization to send someone to the school to meet with the young athlete. The organization’s representative came to the high school and explained 10 points of doctrine that he felt justified their decision to disqualify the Latter-day Saint athlete. Upon seeing a Bible in the man’s bag, Elder Meredith asked if the two of them could review some verses.
“We looked at each of those 10 points and went to Chronicles and James and the book of Revelation and Corinthians,” Elder Meredith said. “My faith was challenged, and through the fire of that challenge, it was strengthened and has never wavered since.”

My family and I arrived in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, in the fall of 2013, and we were excited to attend church. Our experiences as we have attended church in different locations have always been comfortably predictable. We love being able to walk through the doors for the first time already understanding what will take place and instantly being part of a group of people we have never before met.
Our expectations were fulfilled as we became part of this loving group of expatriate Latter-day Saints from many countries, and our faith and commitment grew during our time in Dubai. I will never forget my time in Dubai and the wonderful people I met as a consequence of being able to attend church and worship in the way I have always been fortunate to do. I hope that the leaders of the UAE understand what a gift they have given to us to allow us to worship.

When she was 16 years old, Sister Michelle D. Craig learned that her family would be moving from Provo, Utah, USA, to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, USA, so her father could begin an assignment to serve as a mission president.
She was happy to be with her family, but the move left young Michelle “lonely socially” during her junior and senior years of high school.
“Those were really formative years,” Sister Craig said. “Instead of relying on friends, I relied on my family and my testimony, and church became a lifeline.” She valued most her relationship with Heavenly Father and the Savior.

I can remember many occasions when my perception has crumbled and additional knowledge has wiped away judgment. During my college years I looked at a fellow student, whom I will call Roy, in amazement. Why was he so conceited? His need to be recognized and praised was never ending. Every conversation he had with anyone always centered on his recent achievements and the projects he was now involved in that would ensure his fame. He was underappreciated and let everyone know it. His name became a joke. We came to the conclusion that he was an obnoxious egomaniac who sounded his own praise from morning until night.
One day I learned that one of my friends knew his family. She began to tell me some things. “Roy’s father was an alcoholic. Did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Oh, yes. He made their life just miserable. He was a crazy man. Once, when Roy was about five, he walked in the kitchen and saw his father attempting to kill his mother. It was a terrible scene and Roy was there to watch it all.”
The impact of this information on my conscience was instant. All my perceptions, all my judgment shattered, and I saw past the facade into the reality. I saw past the obnoxious adult to the traumatized little boy that I wanted to take in my arms and comfort. I never looked at Roy the same again. I knew his secret, one of his secrets, and I understood.

In addition to overcoming these obstacles to charity, we might be more loving by considering at least the three following emphases:
First of all, we can focus more on the atonement. Once again, Enos was an example of a strong desire to understand the atonement. He described his desire as a “wrestle … before God,”[6] and he said that his father’s teachings “sunk deep into my heart,”[7] and that his “soul hungered.”[8] Even after being forgiven he wondered “Lord, how is it done?”[9] What a great model for us to follow in striving to make the atonement more real in our lives. Could similar words describe our search for a deeper understanding of the atonement? I know that I could make better use of things that we have already been provided to help us to “always remember him.” The weekly ordinance of the Sacrament is designed to help us remember Christ’s sacrifice. My use of that reverent time could greatly be improved. We could also improve our focus on the scriptures, which are designed to testify and instruct regarding the Savior. In Lehi’s dream it was the iron rod, which represents the word of God that led Lehi to the tree and fruit which represent God’s love. Studying the scriptures and the teachings of modern day prophets will help bring us to Christ. The reason that we refer to the Book of Mormon as another testament of Jesus Christ is that if we read it with real intent it can bring us closer to Christ and to an understanding of His love for us. Worshipping more regularly in the temple also helps us focus more on the atonement. I need to take more time to ponder the love Jesus has for me and for my brothers and sisters.
Secondly, we can reflect on the service and love that we have received from others and be inspired to reach out to those around us. I remember as a youth getting a phone call before school on my 17th birthday from Bishop Angell. The conversation was very brief, but I still recall being impressed that he would think to call me and wish me a happy birthday. I am trying to repeat that thoughtfulness as a bishop now, almost 30 years later.

Ted Jones grabbed the bounding basketball and headed back toward the foul line. If he made this basket, he’d go home. Glancing up, he saw Coach Turner watching him. Ted hoped that the coach had seen him at his best and would let him play sometime when it really counted.
Ted blanked everything from his mind but the orange rim suspended high on the backboard. He was short, barely five feet, and made his shots from the foul line by standing with one foot back and almost lunging forward as he used both hands to push the ball from his chest toward the basket. He did so now, and the ball swished through the net.
Turning to head for the showers, Ted saw his two best friends standing by the bench. The three boys usually walked home together.
“Everybody else is gone,” Danny said. “I don’t know why you spend so much time practicing every day. You’re too short to play basketball, anyway.”
“Yeah, and too skinny!” Keefus shook his head and then burst into laughter.
Ted answered good-naturedly, “You guys laugh now. When I’m the star of the Yellow Jackets, your tune will change.”
Ted loved basketball. Even though he knew he’d probably never be very tall—both of his parents were short—he thought that he could master one part of the game. Each day he stayed after regular practice until he made at least twelve foul shots in a row, and he dribbled over, under, and around all the obstacles he could set up. Ever since he’d gotten his first basketball the Christmas when he was eight years old, he’d made Danny and Keefus—and anyone else he could find—double- and triple-team him to try to get the ball away. He wasn’t fast, but he was quick and almost always got the ball to the open player.
“How are you planning on being a hero?” Keefus asked later as the boys headed for home. “None of us have played for more than twenty seconds in a game unless it’s been so lopsided that it wouldn’t matter.”
Ted answered, “Maybe it won’t be this year, but I’ll be ready whenever it happens.”
“I sure wish it would be tomorrow night,” Danny said. “We had such a lousy start this year that I never thought that we’d even be in the intramural tournament!”
“Yeah,” Ted agreed. “It’s down to us and the Panthers—but they’re unbeaten.”
“Boy, would I like to blow them plumb out of the gym!” Keefus declared.
“I’d just settle for a win,” Ted replied, turning up the walk to his house. “See you guys tomorrow night.”
Nervous tension was as thick as pea soup in the Yellow Jackets’ locker room the next night. The starters were pacing back and forth while the rest of the team exchanged teasing remarks.
“Hey, Michael!” Keefus shouted above the banter, “you’re gonna walk a hole in the carpet!”
Ted looked at the tall center for the Yellow Jackets. Michael was the team’s high scorer. They depended on him to pull them through.
“OK,” Coach Turner called, “gather around.”
The team, dressed in black and gold, huddled around the coach and listened to his familiar pep talk. When they ran onto the floor, the Panthers, in purple and white, were already warming up. Ted got in line behind Danny to start the lay-up drill.
“They look as sharp as ever,” Danny muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the other team.
Ted was determined to think positively. “They can still be beaten, though. We’ll show everybody how much we’ve improved in the last few weeks.”
The five starters formed a circle around Coach Turner for final instructions. Ted took a seat on the end of the bench as the two starting teams met in the middle of the floor. The Panther center matched Michael’s six feet, and Ted wished for the hundredth time that he were tall.
From the first the game was fast-paced and fairly even. By halftime it was evident that it was a shooting match between Michael and a tall Panther called Irish. There were surprisingly few mistakes, and neither team had gotten into the one-and-one bonus. The only problem was that Michael had three fouls.
The score at the beginning of the second half was 20–17 in favor of the Panthers. When the clock ticked down to the final minute, the Yellow Jackets were trailing, 44–42, and Michael had picked up his fourth foul. The crowd went wild when he stole the ball from the Panthers under the Jackets’ basket and stuffed it over the rim to tie the game.
The Panthers threw the ball in and carefully worked it down to their end of the court, obviously intending to hold the ball for the last shot. Ted watched in dismay as Michael hacked Irish on the arm just as the pass came to him.
“Oh, no!” Keefus said, groaning. “Now he’s out, and the Panthers have the one-and-one!”
Ted’s hopes fell as Irish sank the first foul shot, moving the Panthers ahead by one point. The second shot ricocheted off the backboard into the hands of a Yellow Jacket player. He moved the ball past midcourt and called time-out.
Coach Turner paced the sideline, rubbing the back of his head. Suddenly he barked, “Jones!”
As Ted yanked off his warm-up suit and joined the circle crouched around Coach Turner, the coach was saying, “OK, we’re going to keep the ball in Ted’s hands and try to decoy the others so that he’s clear for a shot at the free-throw line. Ted, if nothing happens by the time the clock is down to six seconds, shoot anyway and we’ll try to get the rebound. That means the rest of you had better be close to the basket—now go get ’em!”
The buzzer sounded, and the teams moved back onto the floor. Darryl threw the ball in to Ted. A Panther guard slapped at the ball, but Ted dribbled around him as if he weren’t there. When another Panther came over to help, Ted passed the ball off. It was quickly returned to him as the clock ticked down: ten seconds, nine, eight, seven, six … Ted took aim and let it fly. The Panther guarding him blocked the shot but slapped him on the arm on the follow-through.
Ted stepped to the foul line amid dead silence. Two seconds showed on the clock. The game was up to him.
I know I can do it, he told himself. I’ve been working hard for a long time for this chance.
He eyed the basket, bounced the ball twice, took aim, and pushed it toward the hoop. The ball hit the inside of the rim, wobbled around it twice, then dropped through the net. The game was tied! And, as far as Ted was concerned, the pressure was off.
Grinning happily, Ted bounced the ball, took careful aim once more, and put up his second shot. The ball never drew iron as it swished through the net. String music!
When the final buzzer sounded, Ted was swarmed by his teammates. Later, as they ran toward the locker room, Coach Turner shouted above the uproar, “I knew you could do it. After watching you practice extra every day, I’ve been waiting for the right time to put you in. It finally came.”

The day after the explosion, doctors transferred Elder Navarro to a clinic in Lima. There Elder Charles A. Didier of the Area Presidency gave him a blessing, promising that he would soon return to the mission field.
After attending to Elder Navarro’s other injuries, doctors turned their focus to reconstructing his injured face. Shrapnel had cut his cheekbone and severed the optic nerve of his right eye, requiring the eye’s removal. His parents, who had come to Lima, broke the news to him.
With full financial support from the Church, Elder Navarro underwent three operations to remove his eye and repair its damaged socket.
While recovering at the clinic, Elder Navarro received visits from Luis Palomino, a friend from his hometown who was attending school in Lima. Although his injuries made it difficult for him to speak with Luis, Elder Navarro began sharing the missionary lessons.
Luis was surprised and impressed by Elder Navarro’s decision to finish his mission. “I want to know what is motivating you,” Luis told him. “Why is your faith so great?”
“I want to know what is motivating you. Why is your faith so great?”
Six weeks after the explosion, Elder Navarro left the clinic and started serving at the mission office in Lima. The threat of terrorism still loomed, and he was afraid every time he saw a car like the one that exploded. At night he struggled to sleep.
One day, Luis came to the mission office to visit Elder Navarro. “I want to be baptized,” he told him. “What do I have to do?”
Over the next few weeks, Elder Navarro and his companion taught Luis the rest of the lessons at a nearby chapel. Elder Navarro was excited to teach a friend, and Luis eagerly completed all the goals he set with the missionaries.
On October 4, 1990, Elder Navarro performed Luis’s baptism. Although Elder Navarro was still suffering from his injury, the ordeal had made it possible for him to baptize a friend from his hometown—something he never expected to do. After Luis came out of the water, they embraced, and Elder Navarro felt the Spirit strongly. He knew Luis could feel it too.
To commemorate the occasion, Elder Navarro gave Luis a Bible. “When the days get dark,” Elder Navarro wrote on the inside cover, “just remember this day, the day you were reborn.”

After eight months I received the Melchizedek Priesthood. My son, Anderson, who was not a member of the Church, had a skin problem on his neck and had already been examined by three doctors. But even after taking antibiotics he saw no improvement.
I believed the priesthood could help him, and I explained priesthood blessings to him, but he did not accept my offer of one. He thought the medications would soon heal the infection. Finally, after several months he asked me for a blessing.
This was the first time I had exercised my priesthood in this way. Five days later Anderson entered my room very happy. His neck was completely healed.

Walking home from school was usually not very exciting. Sometimes I thought about my math homework, sometimes I thought about what we did in gym class, and sometimes I walked without thinking about much at all.
But this day was different. My mind was racing. Ahead of me I could see two of the guys I sometimes played with—Josh and Marcus—making snowballs and pointing at me.
“Hey, David, come here!” Josh yelled, laughing. “We want to show you something.”
Marcus laughed too.
Josh and Marcus were both a year older than me, and they could throw hard. I knew it was only a matter of time before they would start hurling snowballs my way. Even though they were usually nice to me, I thought maybe they had even packed ice into the snowballs.
I started to think of ways I could stop their attack.
Run across the street to avoid them? No, they would make fun of me and call me names.
Run as fast as I could past them? No, they were faster than me and would catch up to me in no time.
Mount a snowball attack of my own? Not a good idea, considering there were two of them and only one of me. They also had the advantage of being at the top of the hill, and I had no place where I could take cover at the bottom.
I decided to do the only thing that made sense—walk calmly past them and wait for the snowballs to fly.
As I neared the hill, a thought came to my mind. I remembered Samuel the Lamanite, who preached the gospel while standing on a wall. When the people didn’t like what he was saying, they threw rocks and shot arrows at him.
I knew the Lord protected Samuel from the rocks and arrows. Perhaps He could make the snowballs miss me.
I said a prayer in my mind, asking Heavenly Father that the snowballs would not hit me. I knew I needed to be brave and not doubt—just like Samuel. As I reached the hill, I felt confident that I wouldn’t get hurt.
Just as I expected, the snowballs began to fly. A couple of snowballs whizzed past my head so close that I could feel the breeze as they zoomed by. Some of the snowballs flew past my arms, and a few landed right at my feet, but none of them hit me. Not one!
The boys kept throwing until I was out of range, but I knew I was safe. The rest of my walk home was not very exciting—and I couldn’t have been happier about it. I had been protected like Samuel the Lamanite. I knew that praying and exercising faith in the Lord had blessed me.

Massa Moseray (in white blouse) is a single parent and the breadwinner for seven dependents all living in Kissy Stake. Massa returned from her full-time mission just at the end of the Sierra Leone civil war. Due to this circumstance, there were very limited opportunities for her development. Massa was recommended by her stake leadership to join the Start My Business pilot group. She was able to raise SLL 180,000 during the group’s pilot activity which was used as seed money for her business.

Another incredible example of loving one’s neighbor comes from Coronado, California, where Sister Sabin and I used to live. We would often see the United States Navy Sea, Air, and Land (SEAL) recruits running along the beach and swimming in the ocean as part of their training to become members of this special operations force.

Michael A. Monsoor was one of those SEALs and a posthumous recipient of the Congressional Medal of Honor, America’s highest award for military valor in action. On September 29, 2006, when Michael was twenty-five, he and three other SEAL team members were on a rooftop in Ramadi, Iraq. This was just before Michael was supposed to return home. He had stayed to allow another SEAL to go home because his wife was expecting. The team had started to take enemy fire when a grenade was launched onto the roof. The grenade hit Michael in the chest and then fell to the ground. He was near an exit and could have saved himself, but he could see there was no way for the others to escape. Michael did not hesitate; in a split second he dove on top of the grenade in order to shield the others from the blast, and he died from his sacrifice. Since that day, many SEALs have named their sons Michael in honor of his memory. Also named after him is the super-stealth, guided-missile destroyer USS Michael Monsoor.

I have often thought how I would feel if I had been on that rooftop with Michael—seeing him dive on that grenade, knowing he could have escaped and saved himself but instead chose to save me. It would be impossible to ever forget him. Michael’s unselfish sacrifice for others was remarkable.

I’ll never forget a lesson I had with a young woman on my mission.
She kept asking for physical or tangible evidence that the Book of Mormon was true. And I sat there, unsure of how to respond to her questions and accusations. I was a young, bright-eyed missionary, and all I knew was that the Book of Mormon was true. I felt discouraged because I didn’t know all the answers to her questions. But I realized, it wouldn’t have mattered if I had physical evidence to prove the Book of Mormon was true. Proof wouldn’t give her faith.

The young woman I taught on my mission would only believe the Church was true if my companion and I could disprove all her accusations. But the only thing I could ever prove to her was the reality of finding answers through personal revelation. 6

I ended our lesson with that young woman on my mission by testifying boldly of the Book of Mormon. I told her the only way she could truly find answers to all her questions was to ask Heavenly Father if the Book of Mormon was true. Until she understood the basics of the gospel of Jesus Christ, she could put her other questions on the shelf and revisit them later with greater understanding and faith. But honestly, doesn’t that apply to all of us? We can actually increase our faith by acting in faith.

Such was the case when my wife’s parents joined the Church in 1968. A young missionary who wanted to be an instrument in the Lord’s hands helped bring their family into the Church.
My in-laws met with the missionaries once, but after that, my father-in-law didn’t want to continue. Then a new missionary, Elder Fetzer, was transferred to the area, and this young missionary and his companion felt prompted to visit and minister to the family. Elder Fetzer was able to touch the hearts of the family members in a way that other missionaries had not.
For the next six months the missionaries ministered to the family’s needs. In time, my wife’s parents were touched by the Spirit and joined the Church. They received the blessings that come as we make and keep covenants. Through them, more families have joined the Church and received the blessings of the gospel.
This happened, in part, because a young man from Utah was willing to “let God prevail” in his life. He had the courage to leave the comfort of home, learn a new language, and serve the Lord in Brazil.

One example of how receiving our endowment can be helpful in navigating all areas of our life can be found in Hannah’s story.

Hannah (name has been changed) was a young single adult sister in my ward who was going through some personal trauma when she came to meet with me. She had just broken off a relationship that had started out with a lot of promise, leaving her feeling alone and despondent. She wasn’t planning on serving a mission, but after seeking personal revelation on how to move forward in her life, Hannah received an impression to start preparing to receive her endowment. I encouraged her to do so.

A few months later, Hannah and I met for a temple recommend interview. As we prayerfully discussed her feelings and the efforts she’d been making to prepare herself for the temple—including attending a temple preparation class and studying scriptures and other materials produced by Church leaders—a clear impression came to me that she was prepared to make and keep sacred covenants in the temple.

I felt that the Lord was pleased with her diligent preparation and was desirous for her to come into His house and receive the greater gifts found there. Hannah was seeking greater enlightenment for her life, a stronger relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, and healing.

Hannah witnessed President Packer’s truths stated above. She shared with me that she has been able to deepen her knowledge of the Lord, to keep an eternal perspective, and to become more like Christ through reflecting on the covenants she made during her endowment. And as she has consistently returned to the temple, she has been able to invite the Savior’s healing power into her life and has been guided in many life decisions by Heavenly Father, including in her decision to be sealed to her husband for time and all eternity.

Quite recently, I was privileged to observe this process in the life of a brother named Stan, who had been less active for some 45 years. He had lived a good life and supported both his wife and son in their activity as faithful members in the Church. Yet for personal reasons he chose to remain outside the fellowship of the Church. Even so, each month he welcomed the home teachers.

During February 2006, Stan received new home teachers. Their first visit was pleasant enough, although Stan showed no real interest in the gospel or in any matters remotely associated with spiritual things. Their next visit did little to alter their initial observations, even though Stan was a little warmer and friendlier. On their third visit, however, there was a visible change in Stan’s countenance and demeanor. To their utmost surprise and even before they were able to present their message, Stan interrupted them with a number of thoughtful questions. In the ensuing discussion he also recounted his experiences during the past month, in which he and his wife had commenced reading one chapter a day from the Book of Mormon.

Elder Bruce R. McConkie eloquently described the type of reawakening Stan experienced: “Here is a man who gains a copy of this blessed book, begins to read it, and continues … until, having read it all, his famished soul is filled with the bread of life. He cannot lay it aside or ignore its teachings. It is as though the waters of life are flowing into the barren deserts of his soul, quenching the arid, empty feeling that theretofore separated him from his God.”

The home teachers were reminded of the remarkable power of the Book of Mormon and how very real the influence of the Spirit of the Lord is when we turn to its sacred pages. They also more fully understood the Prophet Joseph Smith’s declaration “that the Book of Mormon [is] the most correct of any book on earth, … and a man would get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts, than by any other book.”

Stan’s thirst for learning and rediscovery of the restored gospel soon expanded his reading beyond one chapter a day, accompanied by deep soul-searching and fervent prayer. To those who sometimes are concerned whether the Lord will actually hear their prayers, the Savior reminds us:

“If a son shall ask bread of any of you that is a father, will he give him a stone? or if he ask a fish, will he for a fish give him a serpent? …

“If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children: how much more shall your heavenly Father give good gifts, through the Holy Spirit, to them that ask him?”

Our beloved prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley, also counseled: “You can’t do it alone. … You need the help of the Lord … and the marvelous thing is that you have the opportunity to pray, with the expectation that your prayers will be heard and answered. … He stands ready to help.”

During August of 2006, Stan ventured alongside his ever-faithful wife into his ward sacrament meeting—his first in 45 years. There, with a humble and prayerful heart, he listened to the simple sacramental prayers offered by the youthful priests. Feeling unworthy and sensing something of the depth and the meaning of this most holy ordinance, he reflected deeply and painfully without partaking of the bread or the water for a number of weeks.

President Joseph Fielding Smith, in a tender testimony many years ago, said: “In my judgment the sacrament meeting is the most sacred, the most holy, of all the meetings of the Church. When I reflect upon the gathering of the Savior and his apostles on that memorable night when he introduced the sacrament … my heart is filled with wonderment and my feelings are touched. I consider that gathering one of the most solemn and wonderful since the beginning of time.”

Stan continued studying, praying, attending church, and receiving appropriate counsel and encouragement from his home teachers. Then the day arrived when, joyfully, he felt he was ready to put forth his hand to partake of the precious sacrament. When we partake worthily, thoughtfully, and reverently of the holy sacrament, we are enabled to become “partakers of the divine nature” because of the Atonement of Christ and the power of the Holy Ghost.

As Stan returned to activity in the Church, he received a calling and, some months later, was ordained an elder. In July 2007, Stan and his wife knelt across the altar in a house of the Lord and, by the authority and eternal law of God, were married for time and for all eternity.

At supper that evening Ethan asked, “Dad, do you think that lucky socks can really help someone spell well?”
“Are you kidding!” Ethan’s sister chortled. “Socks have nothing to do with spelling well.”
“That’s true,” Ethan’s father agreed. “Let’s set up a hypothetical situation: All the students have studied and know the words, and one student has a special good-luck charm—”
“Like Blake’s lucky socks?” Ethan broke in.
His father nodded. “This student really thinks that the charm will help him, and because he believes that he has more ‘luck’ than anyone else, he has more confidence and he does do better.”
Ethan thought for a minute. “But what if he doesn’t learn the words and only counts on his lucky socks?”
“What do you think, Ethan?”
“I think that he’s in a lot of trouble.”
“I think that you’re right,” his father agreed, smiling.

Heidi Tuttle, now Heidi Kim, says her perspective has changed tremendously in 15 years.

“When I was 17, I didn’t see the whole picture,” she says as her toddler son, Kennan, dashes by in red overalls. She scoops him up and kisses the top of his head as he squirms away.

“After my mission to Korea and getting married, I realized the gospel and my family are what’s most important,” Heidi says, as she looks proudly at her husband who is singing Kennan a special song in Korean.