Gospel Story Finder

Dear Reed,
Cub Scouts is awesome! We do lots of fun things. This week our den put on a Thanksgiving play for the pack. Rollin was Myles Standish, Sam was Governor Bradford, and I was Squanto. Other Clubs played other Pilgrims and Indians. We learned that the first winter was very hard and that many Pilgrims died. Then the Indians helped the Pilgrims plant corn and catch fish. The next fall they had lots of food, so they had a feast for three days and invited the Indians to it. The Pilgrims thanked Heavenly Father for the food. They were glad that they could worship Him the way they wanted to. That was why they had come to America.
Then we had our feast. First we put five kernels of corn on each plate because that was all that the Pilgrims had some days that first winter. Then we had turkey and potatoes and cranberries and punch! I’m glad that we have a nice home and good food and clothes. I’m glad that I live today and not back then.
What will you do on Thanksgiving?
Love,Buddy

Born in England, Sister Lawson emigrated to Australia in 1966 at the age of 30. She suffers from acute arthritic and bronchial conditions, so her doctor had recommended a warmer climate.
First settling in Perth, a major city on the Indian Ocean shoreline of western Australia, Sister Lawson encountered Latter-day Saints in a local theater group. When she took on the job of stage manager, both the manager of the group and the leading male actor were Latter-day Saints.
Every time the group started or finished rehearsals, the manager called them together for prayer, Sister Lawson recalls. “Even though the rest of us were not members, it gave me a very warm feeling—I always used to quietly pray before I went on stage, and this seemed right, somehow.”
An invitation to attend Church meetings followed, and Sister Lawson was soon baptized. Naturally cheerful and enthusiastic, she served as ward and stake drama director in Perth and became thoroughly involved in the Church.
But her health continued to deteriorate. When she finally needed a cane to walk, her doctor told her she should go to the north of Australia, where the climate is distinctly warmer and much more humid. Ever since then, her home has been in Kununurra, where she works as a medical laboratory technician.
In order to maintain her commitment to the gospel and build her spirituality, Sister Lawson set some standards for herself when she moved to Kununurra that she has maintained ever since. She reads two or three chapters from the standard works daily, systematically working her way through each of them. She also reads every piece of Church literature she can get. “I subscribe to all the Church magazines,” she says.
Twice each month, she receives a phone call from the Relief Society president in the city of Darwin, 700 kilometers away—the center of Church activity in Australia’s vast Northern Territory. The phone calls are a welcome morale booster, as are the photocopies of lessons from the Relief Society and Sunday School manuals which are also sent.
Normally, Sister Lawson has an opportunity to take the sacrament only once every six months. When she can get the time off work, she travels to Darwin for district conference—a weekend trip that costs her an average of [U.S.] $350 for air fares. Occasionally, the mission president or another priesthood holder travels through the town, and Sister Lawson often takes that opportunity to ask for a blessing.
Sometimes, because employees in the mining industry tend to be mobile, other members will take up temporary residence in Kununurra. Even one more member is enough for Sister Lawson to consider it a “branch.”
Her advice to people in isolated circumstances is to “make a friend of Heavenly Father.
“You have to study regularly, talk to him as if he is a real friend, and then try to make a friend of others around you. You don’t have to change your standards just because you associate with nonmembers who feel and behave differently.”
Sister Lawson says it’s especially important to become involved in the community. She is president of the local theater group, treasurer of the local Progress Association, and vice-president of the town’s Cultural Coordinating Committee.
Endowed in the London Temple while on leave, Sister Lawson is 3,200 kilometers from the Sydney Temple—too far to travel regularly. However, she recently established Kununurra’s only genealogical society. Her eventual aim: to serve a temple mission in one of the tropical-climate temples.

“I was happy when my parents, my brother, and I were sealed in the temple,” says Juanita Leon, 12. She explains that her father used to own a restaurant and would drink a lot. “Then one day, a boy came by and talked to my father about the Church. We received all the discussions and were baptized two weeks later. A month after our baptism, my father was called as the president of the San Benito Branch. A year later, we were sealed in the temple. My father doesn’t drink anymore.”

During his lifetime, President Smith lost his father, his mother, one brother, two sisters, two wives, and thirteen children. He was well acquainted with sorrow and losing loved ones.
When his son Albert Jesse died, Joseph F. wrote to his sister Martha Ann that he had pled with the Lord to save him and asked, “Why is it so? O. God why had it to be?”
Despite his prayers at that time, Joseph F. received no answer on this matter. He told Martha Ann that “the heavens [seemed like] brass over our heads” on the subject of death and the spirit world. Nevertheless, his faith in the Lord’s eternal promises were firm and steadfast.

Several weeks after the experience with the apples I set out to join my friends in the wooded area close to home, anticipating that we would devise some activity or game to play. As I approached them, they were huddled together. I saw smoke rising in the air above them and recognized the aroma of burning tobacco. One of them had obtained a packet of cigarettes, and they were smoking. They invited me to join them, but I declined. They persisted, suggesting that my reluctance to participate was a sign of weakness. Their taunts turned to ridicule, combined with condescending remarks. But nothing they could say or do could persuade me to change my mind. I had not been raised with a knowledge of the restored gospel and knew nothing of the Word of Wisdom, but I was restrained by a feeling within that I should not participate with them.
As I walked home reflecting on the decision I had made, I felt good inside. Although my expectations for the day had not materialized and I would have to find a way to occupy my time without my friends, I had discovered something about myself—about the source of real happiness and the invigoration that results from making the right decision, whatever the circumstances or outcome may be.

While residing at [Long Beach, California, he wrote], I received a telephone call from Brother Rich. “Jim,” he said, “will you come and administer to my wife? And bring a partner.”
I felt impressed to go alone and use him as my partner, as he held the Melchizedek Priesthood but was not active in the Church and did not keep the Word of Wisdom. When I rang the bell, he answered the door, looked over my shoulder, and said, “Where is your partner?”
I pointed my finger at him and said, “You are my partner.”
“Oh, no, Jim,” he said. “You know I smoke and I drink an occasional glass of beer.”
“I know that,” I said. “When you called awhile ago did you say, ‘I want a perfect man to come and give my wife a blessing’? If you did, I will go home, for I am not perfect.” So I went in and asked him to anoint his wife’s head with oil.
“I don’t know how,” he said.
“I will show you how,” I said.
And so he proceeded to anoint her head, and I gave her a blessing. She recovered the next day.
I had quite a talk with him, and he promised to stop his smoking and drinking. Two weeks went by and I got a call. “Jim,” he said, “I have stopped smoking and I am working on my other problem.”
Two more weeks went by and he called again. “I have overcome my problems completely,” he said.
So I took him to see the bishop for a temple recommend, and the bishop was happy to find him worthy to go to the temple. He and his wife took charge of the temple assignments in the ward and both were faithful workers in the temple. He died in 1969.
I often think back on what would have happened if I had thought he was not worthy to help me bless his wife. If we listen to the promptings of the Spirit, and follow the direction of our leaders, we get results.

After a recent mission tour in Indonesia when I visited the missionaries and the Saints on the island of Java, I had to catch an early morning flight to Singapore, and I checked out of the hotel at 6:00 A.M. I climbed into a taxi that was parked near the hotel entrance and told the driver to go to the international airport, but alas, his car would not start. Apparently the battery was dead.
Well, what do you do in such a case? I calculated that it would probably cost me much time to unload my luggage and find another taxi, and it also occurred to me that the taxi driver was trying hard to earn enough money to provide for his family and would be very disappointed if he could not earn the large fare he would get for the half-hour trip to the airport.
I decided to do my morning exercises by pushing the taxi, leaving the Indonesian cab driver behind the steering wheel to start the car. However, he greatly overestimated the early morning physical power of a Dutchman and released the clutch of the car before I had been able to give the car adequate speed. As a result, it came to a sudden halt. But I tried again and this time it started. With a roaring motor the taxi moved forward. I flung open the door, jumped in, and we were on our way.
An hour and a half later when I boarded my flight, the air hostess who greeted me at the door of the plane said: “I am surprised to see you here! You are the gentleman who pushed the taxi in front of the Borobudur Hotel this morning.”
She then told me that all the members of the plane crew had witnessed the scene from the airport limousine parked at a side door of the hotel. She said that on the way to the airport they had talked a lot about the incident and had wondered: “What kind of a man is this? If he can afford to stay in the Borobudur Hotel, why would he work to push a taxicab at 6:00 A.M.?
I thought, “This is my chance to do missionary work!” I took a name card out of my wallet, handed it over to her, and said, “We in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints believe in good human relations.”
The air hostess told me she was not actually a stewardess but was flight services instructor for Cathay Pacific Airways and had boarded this flight to evaluate the performance of some students she had taught in the cabin crew training school in Hong Kong. That enabled me to make another statement about the Church: “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the largest educational institution in the world today. At least 2 million people teach one another on a weekly basis with divinely inspired lesson materials.” I further explained to her that a great deal of my time is spent teaching missionaries and members of the Church in the nine missions of Southeast Asia.
She remarked: “Then you are maybe the man we are looking for—an experienced air traveler with the ability to teach our personnel how to be friendly with customers.” I told her that I would gladly do it free of charge whenever they planned another initial or refresher course in Hong Kong and when these dates would not interfere with my other Church assignments. I thought then and there: “What a golden opportunity to let these people know what makes Mormons behave as they do!”
After my return to Hong Kong, I was approached by the training manager of the airline, who had received a report from the flight services instructor. I made an appointment and spent a couple of hours with him in his office. He was greatly impressed by the work and the achievements of the Church.
I am sure I will have the opportunity to reach out to many souls in the future simply because of what the world observed when they saw the Church in action one early morning in Jakarta, Indonesia.

For a long period after I converted to the gospel, I didn’t have a clear answer to the question “Why am I given trials?” I understood the part of the plan of salvation that says we will be tested. However, in reality, when it came to this question, I did not have a conviction that was powerful enough to adequately answer it. But there came a time in my life when I too experienced a major trial.
When I was 30 years old, I was visiting the Nagoya mission as part of my work. After the meeting, the mission president kindly arranged for the elders to drive me to the airport. However, as we reached the intersection at the bottom of a long hill, a large truck came barreling down from behind us at great speed. It rammed into the rear of our car and propelled it forward more than 70 feet (20 m). The terrifying part of all of this was there was no driver. The rear of our car was compacted to half its original size. Fortunately, both the elders and I survived.
However, on the following day, I began experiencing pain in my neck and shoulders and developed a severe headache. From that day, I couldn’t sleep and I was forced to live each day with both physical and mental pain. I prayed to God to please heal my pain, but these symptoms lingered on for about 10 years.
At this time, feelings of doubt also began creeping into my mind, and I wondered, “Why do I have to suffer this much pain?” However, even though the kind of healing I sought was not granted, I strove to be faithful in keeping God’s commandments. I continued to pray that I would be able to resolve the questions I had about my trials.
There came a time when I found myself struggling with a few additional personal issues, and I was agitated because I did not know how to cope with this new trial. I was praying for an answer. But I didn’t receive an answer right away. So I went and talked with a trusted Church leader.
As we were talking, with love in his voice, he said, “Brother Aoyagi, isn’t your purpose for being on this earth to experience this trial? Isn’t it to accept all the trials of this life for what they are and then leave the rest up to the Lord? Don’t you think that this problem will be resolved when we are resurrected?”
When I heard these words, I felt the Spirit of the Lord very strongly. I had heard this doctrine countless times, but the eyes of my understanding had never been opened to the extent they were at this time. I understood this was the answer that I had been seeking from the Lord in my prayers. I was able to clearly comprehend our Heavenly Father’s plan of salvation and understand anew this important principle.
Let’s now consider that rear-end collision in Nagoya. I could have died in that accident. Nevertheless, through the Lord’s grace, I miraculously survived. And I know that my sufferings were for my learning and for my growth. Heavenly Father schooled me to temper my impatience, to develop empathy, and to comfort those who are suffering. When I realized this, my heart was filled with feelings of thankfulness toward my Heavenly Father for this trial.

Some years ago I encountered a brilliant neurosurgeon whose task at a world-famous hospital was to help patients with chronic pain. He put together a team of medical specialists and worked long and hard on the problem. Out of all the efforts and failures, one insight emerged: If there was no significant other—one for whom the patient cared and who cared about him or her—the team could do little or nothing to reduce the pain. This physician has since become a Latter-day Saint. He told me one day that, for many sicknesses, love, especially family love, is the only preventive medicine and the only lasting therapy.

Natanael held Mom’s hand tightly as they walked into the Primary room. Today was Natanael’s second week in the Sunbeam class. His stomach felt fluttery, and with each step, he walked a little more slowly.
Last week, Primary had been kind of confusing. During singing time, Mia kept standing up and turning around in circles. Natanael was tired of sitting, so he stood up too. But then his teacher asked him to sit back down. During sharing time, some of the older children talked and laughed. Sometimes it was too noisy to hear what Sister Miranda, the Primary president, was saying. When his friend Cara started crying, it made Natanael feel like crying too.
As he got closer to the front row, Natanael didn’t want to let go of Mom’s hand. He was worried that Primary would be confusing this week too. Then he saw his teacher.
“Hi, Natanael,” Sister Tejada said. “I’m glad to see you.” Sister Tejada patted the seat next to her.
Natanael liked his teacher’s friendly smile. He let go of Mom’s hand and sat down by Sister Tejada.
“I’ll be back to pick you up after class,” Mom said. “Remember to be reverent.”
Natanael wasn’t sure he knew how.
After the opening prayer, Sister Miranda stood up. “Today we have a special visitor,” she said.
Suddenly, a puppet appeared from behind a table next to Sister Miranda. The puppet wiggled, waved his arms, and said, “Is it time to go yet? I need a drink!”
Some of the children giggled.
“This is Arlo’s first time in Primary,” Sister Miranda said, “and he doesn’t know how to be reverent. But before he can be reverent, he needs to learn good Primary manners.”
Natanael was surprised. At dinner Mom sometimes reminded him to put his napkin on his lap. That was good manners. And Dad always asked everyone to thank Mom for the nice meal before they started clearing off the table. That was good manners too. But what were Primary manners?
Arlo leaned backward over the front of the table. “Hey, everybody looks funny upside down!” he said.
“Good manners are rules that show we respect other people,” Sister Miranda explained. “Arlo doesn’t know the rules for good Primary manners. Do you think we could teach him?” she asked.
Sister Miranda went to the chalkboard and drew an arm. “What should Arlo do with his arms?” she asked.
“Fold them!” Mia called out.
“That’s right,” Sister Miranda said.
Arlo sat up. He folded his arms and raised them over his head. “Oh, you mean like this?” he asked.
Natanael knew that wasn’t right.
Sister Miranda asked if everyone in Primary could show Arlo how to fold his arms.
Natanael quickly folded his arms. Arlo folded his arms too.
On the chalkboard, next to the drawing of the arm, Sister Miranda wrote, “Fold our arms.”
As Sister Miranda drew more pictures, the children taught Arlo the rules for good Primary manners. Natanael was glad that he knew most of them already.
Now Arlo wasn’t wiggling or waving his arms or calling out. His legs were still, and his arms were folded. The children were listening quietly too. Primary didn’t seem noisy and confusing anymore. Natanael felt calm and happy. It wouldn’t be too hard to be reverent in Primary. He already knew how.

I promise you young men that if you will commit and prepare to serve a mission, it will be the most rewarding and exciting experience of your lives. Yes, there will be many and varied experiences—yes, even humorous experiences, like the elder who shared with me how he and his companion got on the bus, and as they sat down, in the seat in front of them was a grandfather with a young grandson who was having a temper tantrum. Missionaries being as ingenious as they are, these two elders decided they would see what they could do to quiet the little boy down and help the grandfather.
The boy had a baseball cap on. The elders proceeded to take the cap off his head and made a gesture like they threw it out of the window, but instead they quickly hid it under their seat. They then told the boy, as he felt his head, that if he wished hard enough he could wish it back on his head. The boy looked at his grandpa, wondering what was going on, and as he did, the elders quickly put the cap back on his head. The boy immediately felt the cap on his head, took it off, looked at it again, and then proceeded to throw it out the window, saying, “Do it again, Grandpa!” I think the elders got off at the next stop.

We were swimming in the pool at a hotel and found a pocket watch at the bottom of the pool. We asked a lot of people if the watch belonged to them. They all said no. At the end of the day, we felt like we should go to the pool one more time with the watch. There was a family in the pool. We asked if the watch was theirs. They said it was, and they had been looking for it all week. It belonged to their dad, and it cost a lot of money. I’m glad we listened to the Holy Ghost so the watch could be returned.

Costs of the conference, traditionally held at the Naramata Center in the beautiful, orchard-filled Okanogan Valley, were slightly higher than the year before, and the young leaders worried about those who had greater distances to travel.

“We started thinking one night in our central committee meeting,” said Donn Mason, youth chairman, “about the conference and the gospel and everything, and what it all really means to each one of us. And we felt we wanted everyone to come to conference and to have a great experience. Then Kirk Leaberry brought up the fact that some of our youth have to travel 300 miles over dirt roads and then another 600 miles on pavement to come to conference. We knew it would be difficult for them to raise the registration fee. So we tried to find a way for every youth to be able to come.”

“I figured,” said Kirk, youth vice-chairman, “that sometime we’ve got to learn to live the law of consecration, and I thought now is a good time to start. You can’t just dive in on a law like that. You have to start gradually. Now seemed as good a time as any.”

The youth of the Kalowna and Vernon branches, the groups nearest the conference site who made up the planning committee, sent letters to the other branches in the mission. They said that they knew the cost of the conference was higher than before, but they had been able, through various fund-raising activities, to earn most of the money they needed for themselves, and they would work to earn as much extra as possible to help any of the distant branches meet their expenses.

The results of this spirit of service and sacrifice were electrifying. Branches that had earlier claimed they were unable to send their youth because of the cost wrote and said that not only would they raise enough for themselves, but they too would try to raise more than was needed. Even those branches that the committee thought would have the most difficulty wrote in to say that though they probably wouldn’t be able to help other branches, they would be able to raise enough for their own youth.

“The plan was accepted, and it spread fast,” said Donn. “I think it got around faster than the dates of the conference. When we went to a promotional meeting in one of the branches, the kids knew two things—they knew how much the conference was going to cost, and they knew that we were planning to raise extra money. It caught on everywhere.”

Finally all the plans and arrangements were made, and every youth who wished to was able to attend. From all over British Columbia they came—from Bella Coola, Kamloops, Cranbrook, Penticton, Prince Rupert, Kalowna, Vernon, Terrace, Kitimat. They brought brothers, sisters, and nonmember friends. One even brought her mother. In addition the entire mission presidency and their wives attended, the district president came, and many excited adult leaders were there to serve as chaperons. Even the Regional Representative was able to take part in the activities. All were welcomed; all were cared for; all fell within the “midst of the miracle of serving.”

1. The first Sunday after Miguel moved to a new city, his mother took him to church. They went to meet his new Primary class.
2. When they got to the classroom door, Miguel grabbed Mom’s hand. “She isn’t my teacher, Mom. Where is Sister Dominguez?”
3. Mom knelt to talk with Miguel. “We live in a different city now, and we are going to meet new friends—like your new Primary teacher.”
4. “I don’t want a new teacher,” Miguel said. “I want to go home to my old house and be with my old teacher.”
5. “I know it isn’t easy to move to a new place,” Mom said. “But some things will be the same. You will sing Primary songs, pray, and listen to talks.”
6. “I will?” Miguel asked. “What else will be the same?”
“Your new Primary teacher will teach you about Jesus—just as Sister Dominguez did.”
7. Miguel let go of Mom’s hand and sat down in a chair in his new Primary class.
8. After class, Mom came to get Miguel.
“Mom, you were right! We sang, prayed, and listened to talks. My new Primary teacher said Jesus loves me. It is the same!”

Jenny came home from school, dropped her backpack off in her room, and slumped down on the couch.
“What’s wrong?” Mom asked.
Jenny sighed. “Today Mrs. Patterson gave each of us three paper flowers. If anyone talks during quiet time, we have to give someone one of our flowers.”
Mom nodded.
“Emily keeps saying I need to give her a flower. But I’m not even talking!”
“Have you talked to your teacher? Maybe she can help,” Mom said. “But sometimes when people act like that, they really just want a friend.”
Jenny scrunched up her forehead. “It seems like a strange way to show you want a friend.”
“I know. But if you pray, Heavenly Father will show you how to be a friend to Emily.”
That night Jenny prayed for help. She asked Heavenly Father to help her know what to say when Emily asked for her flowers.
At school the next day, her teacher announced that she would retire soon. A lump grew in Jenny’s throat. She loved Mrs. Patterson! Jenny wanted to cry as she thought about how empty her school would feel next year. Later she went home and told her mom about Mrs. Patterson leaving.
“I’m sorry,” Mom said. “I bet Mrs. Patterson is sad too.”
Jenny nodded. “Maybe our class could buy her a new wind chime. She loves those.”
“Great idea! Let’s go to the store tomorrow. You could invite some friends to come too,” Mom said.
Jenny smiled. She was excited to give Mrs. Patterson a present.
“Speaking of other kids, did you talk to Emily today?” Mom asked.
Jenny shrugged. “She kept asking for flowers again. I didn’t know what to do, so I just gave them to her. I prayed for help last night, but it’s not getting any better.”
“Don’t give up,” Mom said. “Heavenly Father hears your prayers. Just keep praying, and you’ll know what to do.”
That night Jenny prayed again for help with Emily. When she got to class the next morning, she quietly sat down at her desk next to Emily. Almost immediately Emily told Jenny to give her a paper flower.
Jenny hesitated. Suddenly she knew what to say. “Emily, I have a question for you.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I want to buy Mrs. Patterson a new wind chime, and I need help picking one out. Do you want to come shopping with my mom and me?”
Emily’s face lit up. “Really? I guess I could help you.” She looked down at her hands. Then she reached into her desk. She carefully pulled out several paper flowers and handed them to Jenny.
“I’m sorry I took your flowers.”
Jenny reached for the flowers, and the girls smiled at each other. Mom was right, Jenny thought. Maybe she just wanted a friend!
As Jenny turned to her desk, she felt happy inside. Heavenly Father had heard her prayers! She was sad to lose her favorite teacher, but she was happy to gain a new friend.

Way back in 1969, I was in South America. I flew from Argentina to Santiago, Chile. The Andes mountains were dry. There was no snow. The grass was burned. Chile was in the midst of a devastating drought.
The people pleaded for help in bringing moisture.
We dedicated two new buildings on that visit. In each of those dedicatory services we pleaded with the Lord for rain upon the land. I have the testimony of many who were in those meetings that the heavens were opened and the rains fell with such abundance that the people asked the Lord to shut them off.

I recall an experience I had on one occasion as a young man in the military service. I thought about it a few years ago when we had the repatriation of some of our military men from overseas. I’d been away from home about four years. We were given points. You got a point for every month you’d been overseas, a point for the number of battles you had been in, and so on, and high-point man went back to the States first.
Of course, there were millions of men to be brought back, and shipping was taxed, so there was nothing more important than to look at the bulletin board and see the points come down. At once you were earning more, and someday you got to the point where you knew the next ship in would be the one that would take you home. I saw that on the bulletin board and thanked the Lord that I could go home finally.
It was that day that my commanding officer called me in and told me we were opening a new flight at Osaka and that I was to be the operations officer. Well, I expressed myself to him. I might have been court-martialed for what I said: I think I’ll even admit I used a few scriptural terms out of context. He listened very patiently, and when it was all over with he said, “Well, that’s all right, Packer; you’re still going.” And so it was.
That afternoon, on a C-47, with all my gear and the others who’d been assigned, I sat bitterly grumbling over the fact that it would take months again, that it wouldn’t be just an assignment of a week or two. Then I challenged the Lord, saying, “Why is it?” I had never wanted anything so much as I wanted to be home. I’d prayed for it, I’d tried to earn it, I’d tried to deserve it, I’d tried to behave myself, and then, when it was within my grasp, the very thing I wanted most was denied me.
Somehow, I don’t remember how, I took hold of myself; but looking back now, I can say the Lord was answering my prayers then. There came from that experience, from things that happened in those few months, lessons essential to the preparation for the calling that is now mine. I couldn’t see that far ahead, but by those tests or trials that we receive, ofttimes the Lord will prepare for us what He has in mind.

I asked Janie first. She’s my baby-sitter. “How can wishes come true?”
“I can’t tell you,” she answered, returning to her book, “but I wish I had the blue dress in this catalog.”
It was a pretty dress.
“I’m saving my baby-sitting money to buy it,” she added.
I next asked Mom as she left for work, “How can wishes come true?”
“I can’t tell you,” she said, “but I wish the living room would be picked up and vacuumed. After work I must go by the dry cleaners, so I’ll be late.”
When my big brother came home from school, I asked him, “Jack, how can wishes come true?”
“I can’t tell you,” he replied, “but I wish for an A in geometry.”
That afternoon and evening Jack left the television off and worked hard on his geometry.
As soon as Dad came home, I asked him, “How can wishes come true?”
“I can’t tell you,” he answered, “but I wish my good suit was cleaned and pressed. I need it tomorrow.” Looking at Mom’s note saying that she would be late, he started picking up the living room. “Hmmm … it needs the full treatment,” he said. He wheeled out the vacuum cleaner.
“I wish I could ride my bike, now that you took off the training wheels,” I said as he was putting the vacuum cleaner away.
“Come on, I’ll help you practice.”
First he showed me how to stop and get off. Then he gave me some good starts, and I began to get the hang of it.
When Mom came home, she looked around with pleasure at the clean, inviting living room. And the next morning Dad was happy to find his freshly pressed suit in his closet.
That afternoon Janie seemed happy. She had received a birthday check from her grandmother. “In another week I’ll have enough for my blue dress.”
Jack came home, walked right past the basketball hoop he loved to shoot at, and went into his room.
“When’s the test?” I asked.
“Next week. I have three more study sessions.”
A week passed. I practiced every day riding my bicycle in the driveway. I had a skinned elbow, a bruised knee, and a scraped ankle, but I finally mastered the bike.
I was proudly riding it when Janie came by to model her beautiful blue dress for me.
“You look great, Janie,” Jack said as he came down the sidewalk. Then he grinned and waved a geometry test paper with a 94 on it!
How can wishes come true? Figure it out—I did!

The Warwoods always planned to go on a senior mission, and Sister Warwood was certain she knew where the Lord needed her to serve. As a neonatal nurse practitioner, she felt drawn to humanitarian work in developing countries.
“I always thought I would serve a humanitarian mission in a third-world country, something with mothers and babies,” she explains. But when they visited Africa a year before their mission call, something unexpected happened. “When I thought to myself, ‘We’ll be here in a year,’ I just had this dreaded feeling,” Sister Warwood recalls.
Back home, during a senior mission meeting, coordinators asked about their preferences. She answered, “Third world, something medical, saving lives.” The dread returned. “I thought, ‘I guess I don’t really want to serve a mission. This is a horrible feeling.’”
Everything shifted when coordinators learnt the couple’s backgrounds—he an accountant, she in healthcare. They explained that “the Mission Health Adviser (MHA) is the most coveted job in the mission because you get to know, love, and serve all of the missionaries.” Sister Warwood realised the MHA “did many of the things I did in the NICU—just with much bigger babies!”
“By the time we left the meeting, instead of feeling dread, I was very excited.” She realised: “The Lord’s been trying to tell you third-world humanitarian is not where you’re supposed to be. He couldn’t have made it more obvious.”
The Warwoods accepted a call to the Auckland New Zealand Mission, where that guidance proved itself many times.

Consider the experience of Elder Dallin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve. Some years ago, Elder Oaks was living in Chicago when one night he was confronted by a young robber with a gun. Elder Oaks had no money to give him, no watch, nothing of value except his car—and his wife was in the car. Both Elder Oaks and his wife were at great risk. During the encounter, Elder Oaks had an opportunity to grab the gun without the likelihood of being shot. “I was taller and heavier than this young man,” Elder Oaks explains, “and at that time of my life was somewhat athletic. I had no doubt that I could prevail in a quick wrestling match if I could get his gun out of the contest.
“Just as I was about to make my move, I had a unique experience. I did not see anything or hear anything, but I knew something. I knew what would happen if I grabbed that gun. We would struggle, and I would turn the gun into that young man’s chest. It would fire, and he would die. I also knew that I must not have the blood of that young man on my conscience for the rest of my life.” (See New Era, Mar. 1994, 4.)
How should you react in a similar situation? Who knows? It would be a different time, a different robber, a different place. The point is that Elder Oaks had not conditioned himself to automatically react violently. But he had conditioned himself to listening to the still, small voice. So when the idea of grabbing the gun came to him, he was willing and able to be guided by the Spirit.
It’s also important to note that Elder Oaks had ended up in a dangerous area because he and his wife were taking another sister home from a Church activity. He certainly wasn’t looking for trouble. He had taken reasonable precautions, such as leaving Sister Oaks in a locked car and later making sure the street was clear before going back out to the car.