Gospel Story Finder

We are grateful President Dallin H. Oaks will be our concluding speaker. When I was a new freshman at Brigham Young University and President Oaks was the new president of Brigham Young University, we spoke together on a panel for parents and prospective students. As I waited nervously for the program to begin, President Oaks leaned over to assure me. With a warm smile, he said he was wearing a red tie because he was celebrating his 40th birthday and was feeling old. To me, as a new freshman, 40 did seem pretty old!

Number 50 Rock Street, Lowell, Massachusetts, could be the home of any one of thousands of southeast Asian families that have settled in this city of 100,000. But 50 Rock Street is the home of Chea Touch (pronounced Cheea Tooch), a 15-year-old Cambodian boy who was baptized three years ago. A member of the Lowell Branch, this remarkable young man has been directly responsible for the baptisms of many other Asian friends.
“It has not been easy for my family and me to come to a new country. There are many things we don’t understand, and we have many struggles. The elders have shown us that they care about us and they want us to be happy,” says Chea. He adds, “I’ve always known I have a Heavenly Father who loves me. It’s been wonderful to learn more about him and know what I must do to return to him. I want my friends to know the truth so they can have the happiness I do.”
Chea’s story begins in 1987 when two elders, Paul Gooch and Garrett Black, were assigned to the Massachusetts Boston Mission. Since there had not been elders in Lowell for a number of years, they felt it was appropriate to seek special help from Heavenly Father on the missionary effort. At the time there were only two Cambodian families who were members of the Church in that area.
Elder Gooch’s journal entry of April 11, 1987, reads: “On this beautiful, clear, spring day, Elder Black and I went upon the top of Fort Hill overlooking the city. We asked that Lowell be blessed as a place of refuge for the Asian people where they could rest in peace and safety, where the Spirit could dwell amidst them in their homes.” Both elders felt inspired. The entry continues. “We asked that Lowell be blessed as a place where the Asians might come to know Jesus as their Savior.”
The elders’ first meeting with Chea was quite accidental. Looking for another family, they happened to knock on his door. Chea was the only family member who spoke English. In the course of their conversation, he told them that he loved Jesus, wanted to find a church, and made them promise to take him to church the next Sunday. Elder Gooch recalls, “I was very impressed with Chea. He was extremely mature and seemed like a 25-year-old in a 12-year-old body.” Chea’s parents told the elders that their son had visited several Christian churches on his own, but “didn’t feel right in any of them.”
Chea’s maturity is no doubt a result of many of the things he has experienced in his young life. Like many Cambodians who have found refuge in the United States, Chea and his family are survivors. He was four and his sister Soph was ten in 1979 when they escaped with their parents from Cambodia and made their way to the Kavidan refugee camp in Thailand.
They lived in the refugee camp until 1984, when relief organizations sponsored their relocation to the United States. They’ve been in Lowell, Massachusetts, since then. Chea now has two younger sisters: Lundi, who is eight, and Dani, age six.
After hearing the discussions and attending sacrament meeting, Chea knew he had found what he was looking for. “The people are so nice. I feel I belong. As I learn the scriptures and read the Book of Mormon, I can feel Heavenly Father’s love for me.” Chea loves to sing and adds, “The music makes me very happy.” Although his parents have taken the missionary lessons, attended church often, and fully support Chea, they have not joined the Church. (As a Buddhist monk, Chea’s father made certain commitments that he feels would be violated should he join another religion.)
After his baptism, Chea and the elders became very good friends. “Almost every day Chea would come to our apartment,” recalls Elder Gooch. “He would tell us about friends and relatives he wanted us to visit. Sometimes we had a hard time keeping up!”
Smiling, Chea recalls the first person he told the elders about. “Sothom Chea was in my class at school. At first I was afraid of him. I thought he didn’t like me. I asked him if he would like to meet my friends, Elder Black and Elder Gooch. When Sothom said yes I was surprised but very, very happy.” Chea accompanied the elders to all of Sothom’s discussions. He says, “I enjoyed translating the lessons. I learned so much. I could feel the Holy Spirit. Besides, it was fun.”

I was born into a home where my father was not a member of the church, and my mother was what today some would categorize as inactive. During my early childhood, I did not in any way understand the significance of the fact that there was no priesthood-bearing patriarch or consistent teaching of pure gospel principles in our home. Yet no son could have loved more or been more proud of my father than was I then and am now. He taught his five boys by noble example the importance of industry, integrity, education, manual skills, trust, and obedience. We gained self-confidence through the practice of these worthy traits. Because he traveled frequently and left our precious mother alone for significant periods of time to raise five active, exuberant boys, we discovered in her an amazingly marvelous combination of love, patience, firmness, and diligence. She was and continues to be more a friend and companion than anything else. (I should add the Lord has since greatly blessed our family. Dad is currently a sealer in the Washington Temple, and mother serves with him as a temple worker. Both provide powerful examples of righteous obedience for each of us.)

During my youth, through kind, understanding bishops and patient home teachers and other interested members, the five boys were encouraged to attend Church and to participate in its activities. We did so, although at times reluctantly. I remember with sadness the times when at separation for Sunday School classes, I would slip out the back door to walk in the park. There were, however, times when I listened to the teachings in class. I’m sure that, if anyone would have questioned my testimony and understanding of the gospel, I would have fiercely defended it as being strong and vigorous. Only from the perspective of time and the marvelous experiences of later, more active participation in the Church, do I now realize that I knew very, very little of the true meaning of the gospel plan. I participated in Church activities but somehow felt I was always at the periphery. I would approach Mutual activities daydreaming of a glorious evening dancing with the most popular girls in the ward. The reality of each evening was quite different. As I sat on the sidelines and watched others enjoying themselves, I felt somehow left out, not part of the central group. The same thing occurred in school. Though I felt comfortable in the academic activities, the social and sport activities left me feeling alone and unwanted. It was not until a lot later in life that I realized it was largely my fault.

I have since learned that one cannot demand love and respect or require that the bonds of friendship and appreciation be extended as an unearned right. These blessings must be earned. They come from personal merit. Sincere concern for others, selfless service and worthy example qualify one for such respect. All my rationalization that others had formed select groups and knowingly ruled out my participation was largely a figment of my imagination. Had I practiced correct principles, I need not have felt alone.

Dear Amanda,
We had so many interesting visitors at church last Sunday that I thought you would like to hear about them. Grandpa and I went to church in a little town called Itakyrú (ee-tahk-ee-roo). We are building a nice new meetinghouse there, but for now the members come to the home of the Ugarte (oo-gar-teh) family for church. There are two rooms in the house: a bedroom, where the whole family sleeps, and a kitchen, where Sister Ugarte cooks over an open fire. Between the two rooms is a covered area for the animals. There is a big box of corn there, and the dogs and pigs and chickens and ducks go in and out whenever they wish. The Ugarte family also has a little brown burro, a calf, and a pretty gray cat.
On Sunday, however, all the animals have to go out into the yard, and Brother Ugarte sets up benches for our meetings in the area between the two rooms. It is a very cool and pretty place to have a meeting.
Sacrament meeting last Sunday started out as usual. Then, after the announcements and opening song, we heard a strange munching noise. It was the little black calf. He had come in to listen and to eat some of his corn!
A little later, during the first talk, Grandpa leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Grandma, there is a little pig between my feet!”
“I know,” I whispered back, “and there is a little spotted dog under me.”
Just at that moment the little dog under me playfully nipped the little pig under Grandpa.
“Ooee! Ooee! Ooee!” squealed the pig, and it ran into the yard.
“Woof! Woof! Woof!” barked the dog, following the pig into the yard.
“Amen,” said the speaker as he finished his talk.
Everyone stood up to sing a rest song. The little brown burro, which had been very reverent in the yard the whole time, decided he would like to sing. Have you ever heard a burro sing? They don’t stay with the music very well, and they always forget the words!
The second half of the meeting was much quieter. The pretty gray cat fell asleep outside near the burro, and the only new visitors to church were some ducks and a mother hen that came to eat the corn that the calf had spilled on the floor.
Soon the new meetinghouse in Itakyru will be finished. Then the animals won’t be able to come to church anymore, which is really too bad, because they seemed to enjoy being there with us.
Grandpa and I are very glad that we can be missionaries in Paraguay. Maybe someday you can be a missionary too. Don’t forget to be a good girl for your mommy and daddy.
Love,
Grandma

Although I was baptized as an infant in one church and attended another on and off during my childhood, religion was never a huge part of my life. As I grew older, my family moved a lot, and we stopped attending worship services. I believed in God, but I did not think about Him or religion very often.
That all changed in 2006, when I was 14. My uncle Billy died; he was only in his mid-30s. His premature death made me realize how much I loved him and caused me to start asking questions internally. Where did he go when he died? Did he continue to live and have a future? What would become of his children and other family members left behind? What did his life mean? What did my life mean?
These thoughts ran through my mind for the next several months. One evening in September 2007, my mother, my three younger siblings, and I were leaving a deli in my hometown of Haverhill, Massachusetts, USA, and stopped to sit on a bench. Two young men in black suits, white shirts, and ties approached us. One of them said, “I know it may seem a little bit awkward to talk to two people you don’t know, but could we share a message with you?”
We agreed. I knew they were going to talk to us about religion, and I was impressed that they didn’t just thrust a card or pamphlet at us and walk off. Rather, these young men genuinely seemed interested in us and excited about their message. At the conclusion of their message, they asked if they could visit our family. My mother agreed and set up a time, so I have her to thank for what became a great change for good in my life.
We started learning the gospel. After a while Mom became busy with different things and didn’t continue to meet with the missionaries, but I did.
I connected easily with Elder Kelsey and Elder Hancock. Perhaps part of the reason was that they weren’t that much older than I was. I felt great love from them and for them. Soon I felt that same love from ward members and from other youth in my stake.
The missionaries taught me the plan of salvation, which answered the questions I had about my uncle and about my own purpose in life. The elders also introduced me to the Book of Mormon. I remember reading in Alma 32 about the seed of faith developing and tasting good (see verse 28). That description was exactly how the Book of Mormon seemed to me. What I was reading and what the missionaries were teaching me rang true, felt right, and tasted good.
My mom teased me about what she called my “hermit crab stage” because I would retreat to my bedroom and spend several hours reading the Book of Mormon. Although I didn’t recognize my feelings as the Holy Ghost at that time, I felt that this path was right.
When the missionaries asked me to be baptized, they encouraged me to pray about the decision. When I prayed to know if joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was what I was supposed to do, I received a very direct answer, to the point that it shocked me. The direction was clear: go forward with baptism.
I remember vividly the day I was baptized—December 15, 2007. As I stood in the cold water with Elder Kelsey and he raised his hand to the square, the Spirit just filled me up; it seemed to take over my whole frame. I could say that I was also grinning from ear to ear, but that description doesn’t even come close to describing what I felt.
After my baptism I continued to feel the Spirit. I felt sanctified. I knew that my sins had been remitted. I felt the approval of Heavenly Father that this was, indeed, the path I was supposed to take.
Occasionally, when little doubts pop up, I go back to that experience and remember how I felt that day. Remembering what I felt then helps me dispel any doubt I may encounter.
Even though we don’t reenter the waters of baptism to have those powerful feelings again, we can remember that feeling when we renew our covenants through repentance and the sacrament. Each time I repent, I can find that feeling again—one of being cleansed and of being loved.
Feeling that love helps me identify with what Joseph Smith taught: “A man filled with the love of God, is not content with blessing his family alone, but ranges through the whole world, anxious to bless the whole human race.”1 Knowing the worth of a soul helps me be excited about opportunities to go teaching with the missionaries in my area. I also look forward to the day when I can serve a full-time mission and share how happy the gospel of Jesus Christ has made me.

We believe in you because we recognize your strength and capacity. As a boy working on a farm, I learned that all kinds of devices can give you power to do things you cannot accomplish with your own strength. In those days we had to move big boulders by hand. We would get a long pole and put the strong end of the pole under the rock we wanted to move. Then, resting the pole on a smaller rock close by the big rock, we would pull down on the small end of the pole, which would cause the big rock to move. The longer the pole, the more leverage and the easier it was to move the big rock.

We have progressed from poles to power machinery. Today you have computers with the Internet and e-mail to increase and expand your capacity. But you will need to gain certain skills to keep up with modern technology. For example, when I was in college we wrote papers by hand, but now they are expected to be typed, usually on a computer. Computers even have a spell checker! With the development of power machinery, the rise in technology, and better health habits, the world is getting more competitive. A 3.5 grade point average used to be worth an academic scholarship, but a higher GPA is needed today. Records in sports are now higher; this pushes achievement levels higher as well. So to achieve your potential, you will not only have to work hard, but you will also have to work smart to employ all the leverage you can.

The greatest leverage for good, however, is on the spiritual level. This will come as you use your spiritual gifts to enhance your natural gifts and abilities. This spiritual leverage can be diminished or even destroyed if you get too close to the Devil’s Throat. For example, I warn you against the dangers that lurk in the Internet, movies, and books, which lead away from your destiny. Daily study of the scriptures is an excellent way to keep your spirituality safe from the Devil’s Throat.

We believe in you because of your integrity. We not only know of your integrity, but people around the world are taking notice. A businesswoman based in Salt Lake City called a company in Virginia. After completing the business transaction, the owner asked her where she was from. On learning that it was Utah, he said, “What part of Utah?” I quote her account of what happened next:

“‘Salt Lake City,’ I responded.

“‘Salt Lake City? Well, you must be a Mormon,’ he stated matter-of-factly.

“‘Yes, I am,’ I said.

“‘I have two girls who work for me who are Mormons,’ he continued. ‘They’re the best employees I’ve ever had. Those two girls are only seniors in high school, but they keep my store cleaner than any of my other employees, and they treat my customers great. They’re really polite and pretty… you know, the “all-American” type.’

“He said, ‘Those two girls are amazing. Would you believe that they get up at 5:00 a.m. every morning and…’

“‘Go to seminary!’ I inserted.

“‘Well, I don’t know what it’s called,’ he continued. ‘But it’s some type of religious training. Then they go to school all day, and come work for me until 8:00 p.m. I don’t know how they do all of the things they do, but I’m sure impressed.’

“‘Would you believe that Mormon youth all over the world are going to early-morning seminary, five days a week?’ I asked.

“‘Well, that’s one thing I have to say for your church,’ he said. ‘You’re sure raising your children right. They’re the best.’”4

And you are the best. That is why we believe in you! As President Gordon B. Hinckley frequently says: “It all comes down to personal integrity.” Integrity is the value we set on ourselves. It is the fulfillment of the duty we owe ourselves. Complete and constant integrity is a great law of human conduct. Self-respect and dignity as sons and daughters of God should both advance your gifts and talents and act as a restraining influence.

Honorable men and women will personally commit to certain self-imposed expectations. They need no outside check or control. They are honorable in their inner core. Integrity is the light that shines from a disciplined conscience. It is the strength of duty within us. Moses gave the following counsel: “If a man vow a vow unto the Lord, or swear an oath to bind his soul with a bond; he shall not break his word, he shall do according to all that proceedeth out of his mouth” (Numbers 30:2).

Some things should never be done; some lines should never be crossed; vows should never be broken; some words should never be spoken; some thoughts should never be entertained. Membership in the Church requires that we measure up to certain standards. It isn’t easy. It demands much of us.

We believe in you because you choose to be chaste. The Lord gave us our bodies and along with them our passions. He does not expect us to stifle our passions, but rather to bridle them (see Alma 38:12), which means to channel them so that they can be used for the purposes He intended. As Elder Jeffrey R. Holland stated in the October 1998 general conference:

“Human intimacy is reserved for a married couple because it is the ultimate symbol of total union. …

“… If you persist in pursuing physical satisfaction without the sanction of heaven, you run the terrible risk of such spiritual, psychic damage that you may undermine both your longing for physical intimacy and your ability to give wholehearted devotion to a later, truer love.”5

It is so important to make decisions early about correct dating habits so that you can say, “I don’t know who I’ll marry yet, but I certainly know where.”6

It is also important to keep our minds clean and pure. While Elder Dallin H. Oaks was serving as president of Brigham Young University, he gave some excellent counsel regarding what we take into our minds:

“We are surrounded by the promotional literature of illicit sexual relations, on the printed page and on the screen. For your own good, avoid it. Pornographic or erotic stories and pictures are worse than filthy or polluted food. The body has defenses to rid itself of unwholesome food. With a few fatal exceptions bad food will only make you sick but do no permanent harm. In contrast, a person who feasts upon filthy stories or pornographic or erotic pictures and literature records them in this marvelous retrieval system we call a brain. The brain won’t vomit back filth. Once recorded, it will always remain subject to recall, flashing its perverted images across your mind and drawing you away from the wholesome things in life.”7

Another important fundamental is accountability, as President Hinckley stated in an interview on Larry King Live: “Let me say that I still believe that right is right, and wrong is wrong. Thou shalt not commit adultery. Thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt not bear false witness. These aren’t suggestions, these are commandments.”8

It then follows that we are accountable for what we do—first to ourselves, then to our parents, and, most important, to God. We all carry a trust. We must ask ourselves, “What is success?” Is it achievement? Is it fame? Is it position? Is it dominion? The prophet Micah defined it very simply: “He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?” (Micah 6:8).

I am optimistic for you. Life presents great challenges and difficulties, but now is the most exciting time in the history of the world in which to live. There are greater opportunities to build the kingdom of God than ever before. There are more places to serve missions than ever before. You really can’t visualize the great blessings that await you. They are wonderful and exciting. Each of us is endowed with unique gifts, talents, and attributes. You can make a difference. You must make a difference. You are, as the Savior said, the light of the world.

We all face furious winds of evil and tides of the sordid not unlike the situation faced by the Jaredites as they traveled to the promised land. They were tossed upon the waves of the sea and “many times buried in the depths of the sea, because of the mountain waves which broke upon them, and also the great and terrible tempests which were caused by the fierceness of the wind” (Ether 6:6). But they were protected because “when they were buried in the deep there was no water that could hurt them, their vessels being tight like unto a dish” (Ether 6:7). In our time there are vessels that protect against these terrible spiritual tempests, and they are our temples, homes, quorums, wards, and stakes.

You are children of great promise. You have received the covenants of the Lord with His people. Be careful not to get too close to the Devil’s Throat. He would like to devour you. You must use the leverage of both technology and the Spirit of God to reach your potential. You must strive diligently to do this. We want to support you by believing in you rather than fearing for you. Though you may have ordinary ability and intelligence, by perseverance and hard work you can find happiness beyond your dreams and expectations. This will come about as you keep the commandments of the Lord.

I pray that the Lord will watch over you and keep you safe. I pray that the Lord will strengthen you in heart and soul to go forward in faith and courage.

I had a personal experience that taught me for all time the importance of observing the Sabbath. As a Brigham Young University student, married with two small children to support, I had a job that required me to work on the Sabbath. Consequently, I did not enjoy the blessings of the Sabbath in full measure, despite my efforts always to attend at least one of my Sabbath meetings. When I left this campus to study at the University of Chicago, my mother reminded me that my father had never studied on the Sabbath during his professional training. She said to me very casually, “Son, if you want to enjoy that blessing you should arrange your activities so that you never study, so that you never do anything on the Sabbath except partake of the spiritual food that is available to you on the Lord’s day.”

I made up my mind at that time that I would observe the Sabbath faithfully so that I could qualify for the blessings of spiritual growth and the companionship of the Spirit that come from observing faithfully the Sabbath of our Lord. I testify to you that I realized those blessings in measurable ways on innumerable occasions. My concern for the Sabbath is to earn the blessings available to those who observe it, not to keep myself from sinning. My attitude is to look on the commandment of the Sabbath as a gift of my Heavenly Father to teach me what I should do if I want to enjoy his richest blessings. That is the attitude I encourage each of us to develop toward each of our Father in heaven’s commandments.

I met Regis Carlus for the first time in 1995 in France. He was not a member of the Church. His daughter, Charlotte, was being sealed in the Bern Switzerland Temple the next day, and he had written, asking if he could stop by my office to meet me. He had heard that I often inquired about him, and he was perplexed as to why.

After being called as a General Authority and assigned to serve in the Europe/Mediterranean Area Presidency, I received Mr. Carlus’s request to meet and hoped that he would follow his children into the restored gospel.

When Charlotte’s father was a university student in the 1960s, the missionaries had taught him the gospel. He was drawn to the restored Church and felt the power of the Book of Mormon. He decided, however, that joining a small, American-based church would not help his professional career.

Now, as I greeted Mr. Carlus and exchanged pleasantries that day in 1995, he asked why I had demonstrated such an interest in him.

After praying with him, I told him that these few minutes with him might be the only time in this life that I would see him. I complimented him on his remarkable daughter and son and told him I respected him immensely for raising two righteous children.

Then I spoke to him of the purposes of the Savior in restoring His gospel upon the earth, the role of the priesthood, the importance of family and the sealing power, and the gathering of a covenant people across the world.

I told him I felt that when the missionaries taught him as a university student, his righteous destiny was to join the covenant people of the Church. I asked that he not be offended as we read two verses that I felt applied to him.

Together we read in Alma about those “called and prepared from the foundation of the world … on account of their exceeding faith and good works; in the first place being left to choose good or evil; therefore they having chosen good, and exercising exceedingly great faith, are called with a holy calling … while others would reject the Spirit of God on account of the hardness of their hearts and blindness of their minds, while, if it had not been for this [for they were on the same standing] they might have had as great privilege as their brethren” (Alma 13:3–4).

I politely shared with Mr. Carlus that I believed he had been prepared to be with us, and when he refused because of the appeals of the world, the Lord continued to bless him with two choice spirits to be his children. They embraced the covenant path meant for his family. Then I invited him to accept the invitation he had been given 30 years before.

Regis Carlus did not join the Church in this life, but his children had chosen the covenant path, and they have remained on the path.

We are counseled to seek learning and gain education for several purposes, but one of them is to involve ourselves in a love for and a knowledge of great books. And we ought to be born again a great many times as a consequence. You are involved with a large number of great teachers and important philosophies that will also help you to be born again.

One of the most pleasant and productive experiences in my life happened in 1943 as the Japanese war was taking place. I heard Dr. Adam S. Bennion give a lecture on the value of great literature. You can sell the idea of the value of great ideas to anyone. That is, we all believe that we should be acquainted with great human thought. But almost everyone gets away from its benefit by saying that he doesn’t have time to read. To get away from this objection of not having time, Dr. Bennion said, “Suppose that you were going to be a prisoner in a Japanese concentration camp for the next four years and you could take with you the works of any ten authors. Which would you take, and what would you expect to get out of them?” That is, what are the values of great ideas, of great literature? His idea was to take the ten authors you would most like to resemble and then exhaust each one in turn. That is, you would read every thought and consider every idea that a particular author had ever recorded; you would rethink his every idea. The psychologists say that when you run an idea through your brain, it makes a little groove or engram. If you run through your mind the kind of ideas that went through the mind of Shakespeare or Emerson or the apostle Paul or Moses or Jesus of Nazareth, then your brain will tend to respond as their brains did.

From someplace I got the courage to make the start. I guess Shakespeare comes fairly close to the top of most people’s lists of great authors. So I got out Shakespeare’s 37 plays, his sonnets, and his poems and went to work. Reading them was pretty difficult at first. I read very slowly and perhaps not very comprehendingly. Shakespeare wrote a long time ago, and there were many things that I did not understand. I had to reread some things several times, look up their meanings, and ask people about them. But finally the clouds began to part, a little bit of the sunlight began to come through, and I had a tremendous experience with Shakespeare. Shakespeare looked with clearer insight into human life than do most men. He said his purpose in writing was to hold the mirror up to life, to show virtue her own image and scorn her own likeness. He said, “I your looking-glass will be and will modestly discover to yourself qualities which you yourself know not of.” I had a great uplift as I read his speeches and his arguments for success. And as he pictured life in miniature with his great characters acting and reacting upon each other, I was intellectually born again—a great many times. Each time we discover some inspiring thought, we can be changed, and changed for the better.

Many people qualify as heroes in my life, but one great example to me was a little cocker spaniel dog named Pepper.
I remember the day that my Aunt Madge gave Pepper to my brother, Max, and me. Pepper was a tiny black puppy, and we were thrilled to have him. He had a long, heavy tail, and long ears that nearly touched the ground.
One day Pepper was seriously injured by an automobile. His shoulder was crushed, and afterward he always walked with just one of his front legs. He was a funny-looking little dog. My friends all made fun of Pepper, but my brother and I loved him. He was our loyal friend.
I was born with some birth defects that required several major surgeries on my left leg during my childhood. I couldn’t run and play like the other children. When I was twelve, I was in an accident that left my leg so badly broken that I had to use crutches or a wheelchair for the next six months.
One day as I was hobbling with my crutches to the local grocery store, I was attacked by a large dog. He bit me on the legs and arms and knocked me to the ground. I remember screaming for help but thinking that no one could hear me. Suddenly a little black figure came flying into the fight and began to defend me. It was a savage battle between a crippled little cocker spaniel and a ferocious, much larger dog. Pepper gave me enough time to get one of my crutches and join the battle. Together we were able to chase the dog away.
Pepper and I were both hurt, Pepper much worse than I. He suffered from his injuries for many days, but he did finally heal.
Pepper—my gentle, little, crippled friend. He was quite willing to give his life for me. I learned a great deal about friendship from the example of this little black dog. He didn’t require a single thing in return for his love and loyalty. He was pleased just to be patted on the head and treated with kindness. Maybe in some way I can return Pepper’s gift by remembering him and following his example of friendship. Because of Pepper, I have tried to be a loyal and devoted friend myself.

Welfare services missionaries were assigned by the branch president to visit the home of every newly baptized family. In carrying out this assignment, the missionaries often found emergency teaching situations.

For example, one day upon entering the home of a newly baptized member, they were greeted by the mother, who invited them to sit own and then began to cry. Her baby was sick. Its stomach was badly bloated.

Upon investigation, it was found that the child had never had anything to eat except flour and water or powdered milk. For eight months the mother had been afraid to give the baby any other food because it was so sick, and it was sick because it was starving!

The missionaries taught the mother how to include cereals, fruits, and vegetables in the child’s diet. Now the child is on the road to normal health.

Nearly eight years ago, on a sunny October morning, I was attending an early meeting with our student team when a FaceTime call came through on my coworker’s phone. It was unusual for her to receive a call like that during a meeting, so she let it ring. But when the phone rang again, she excused herself to answer it. After a moment, she turned to me and said, “Yes, she’s right here.” Then, looking at me, she added, “Jen, you’re going to want to step out to take this call.”

I took the phone, feeling confused, and stepped outside. On the other end, I heard the familiar voice of a colleague. Gently and with compassion, he told me that Cary, my husband, had been in an accident on the Archer/Lyman Highway and that the ambulance was on its way.

I quickly left the meeting. My team kindly gathered my things and walked me to my car. In a logical moment, I decided I should drive myself, so I’d have my own vehicle. So, my dear friend and colleague offered to go with me in her car. We left the Kimball parking lot and headed south toward the temple.

When she turned into the temple parking lot, I wondered, Why are we stopping here? Then I thought, Oh, right. We should say a prayer. What a perfect place to do that. I noticed she was on the phone, so I stepped out of my car to join her. That’s when I realized my hands and legs began to tremble. I knew then that it would be best for her to drive, so I left my car in the temple parking lot.

After finishing her call, she told me that Cary was now in the ambulance, headed to the hospital in Idaho Falls, so we should go directly there. Before leaving, we paused and said a prayer together, and I felt a rush of calmness and clarity settle over me. On the drive to Idaho Falls, I made a few phone calls to family to let them know of the situation, but I really had no information or details to share. Despite the distance to the hospital, the drive went by quickly.

When we arrived, I rushed into the ER only to be handed a stack of paperwork that had to be completed before I could see Cary. I filled it out calmly; the needed information came quickly to my mind. I was anxious to be by his side. When I finally saw him, our eyes met, and he said, “I can’t move or feel anything.” That was when I began to understand the severity of the accident.

It was a miracle that he was alive and coherent—and I was so grateful—but we still didn’t know the full extent of his injuries. While we waited, a family friend and nephew gave Cary a priesthood blessing. That moment brought me great peace. I knew God was aware of Cary and would be with us in the hours and days ahead.

Soon, the neurologist came in with the awaited test results. Cary had no internal injuries, which was truly miraculous, but he had a chipped tooth, a broken rib, minor lacerations on his head and leg, and a shattered C4 vertebra. His spinal cord was bruised but not severed. Surgery would be needed to repair his broken neck. The neurosurgeon on call that day was confident, despite the complexity, that he could perform the procedure in just a few hours. Cary was stable.

Soon after the plan was presented and the proper authorization was given, Cary was moved to a room in the ICU as he waited for his surgery time. My heart wanted to speed up the clock. The sooner his surgery started, the sooner he would be OK. The nurses began to prep him, then the surgery team came to wheel him away. I remember feeling left all alone in that hospital room, hoping, wishing, praying that he would survive the surgery, and he would come back to me. I could not lose him—not now, not ever!

The next few hours of his surgery gave me time to talk to my Heavenly Father. I shared the worries of my heart. I pleaded for understanding: “Why Cary?,” “Why Now?,” “Why us?”

Our family had been obedient to gospel teachings and commandments. Our oldest son, Logan, had just been married to his sweetheart in the temple six weeks earlier. Our other son, Kaden, had left to serve a mission in Mexico City just one week prior. We were faithfully serving in our Church callings. My list went on and on.

What would happen next? Would Cary’s body heal? Would he have movement and functionality? Would he ever walk again? The uncertainty was overwhelming.

In my grief and pleading, the Lord began to calm my troubled heart. I started to feel the tender mercies and prayers of others give me peace. I was lifted and sustained with the thought that sometimes accidents just happen.

When the surgery was over, they brought Cary back to his room in the ICU. The doctor explained that his surgery was successful.

He was wearing a neck brace, had a tube down his throat, and had oxygen tubes in his nose to allow better breathing, as it was very difficult for him to do this on his own. Pillows were placed under all his limbs to provide comfort and protection since he couldn’t move. A towel was rolled up and positioned next to his head for support and alignment.

So much was going on around us, but in that moment, I felt hope. Hope in his ability to recover.

Evening came quickly, as I was completely absorbed in the steady rhythm of nurses, techs, and custodial staff coming in and out, all providing critical care. I was watching monitors, adjusting sensors, and learning intently what to watch for and how to keep him comfortable. Eventually, the lights dimmed, and the calmness of night settled in.

Cary was awake and was trying to communicate with me, but he couldn’t move or speak due to the breathing tube. He could blink and make some guttural noises.

I tried to guess what he was saying or needed. “Is it your head? Your legs? You need your nose scratched?” I was guessing all the little things he couldn’t do for himself. It was the hardest communication we had ever experienced—what a mess!

I started spelling out words. I began reciting the alphabet aloud: “A … B … C … D … E … F … G … H … I … J … K …”

He blinked and made a sound. “K?” I asked. He blinked again. Yes, that was right. I wrote it down and started guessing words with “K” with none being right.

So, I began again: “A … B … C … D …”

When I reached “I,” he blinked again. I wrote it down. “Kick? Kit?” I looked around the room for something that might help me guess—still nothing.

One more time: “A … B … C …” All the way through, I was watching his eyes. “P … Q … R … S …”

Another blink. I wrote it down and I looked at my paper: K, I, S.

“Kiss!” I exclaimed. “You want me to kiss you?”

I suddenly felt sheepish that it had taken me so long to figure out something so simple yet so far from my thoughts. But in that tiny, tender moment, I felt his worry—not for himself, but for me. He was trying to comfort me.

My eyes instantly filled with tears. I longed to embrace him, but I couldn’t. So, what do you think I did? You’re absolutely right—I leaned over that hospital bed rail and kissed every little space on his face that wasn’t covered by a bandage, monitor, tubing, or brace.

In that moment, the Spirit comforted my soul. I knew Cary was of sound mind. He was 100% with me. My miracle man was still by my side, and I knew that together we would face this trial.

Cary’s recovery journey was filled with unknowns. Each day brought new information and new steps forward. He worked tirelessly, moment by moment, pushing his body and brain to remember what they once knew how to do. When he was accepted into a remarkable rehabilitation center in Colorado, we treated each day as a sacred gift. We did our best to recognize the daily blessings, focus on the positives, and move forward with unyielding determination as Cary spent his days working with five to six different therapists. The schedule was demanding. His body was exhausted. Our family was separated. But we pressed on with faith.

During this time, we often found ourselves wondering, Does “Thy will” match the desires of our hearts? What if the righteous desires for Cary to walk again, to be highly functional, and to possibly make a full recovery are not God’s will for us?

This spiritual wrestle—aligning our hopes with His will—became a constant theme in our prayers. It was a plea offered not only by us, but by our family, friends, ward and stake members, coworkers, temple patrons, the missionaries serving alongside our son in the MTC, and the countless others who knew of Cary’s situation.

I can testify of the peace that comes when we choose faith over fear and our hearts surrender to God’s will. Fear is “what if?” Faith is “even if.”

As a cross-country runner I am often tempted to give up and quit during a race. During my first race this year, when I was just about to be overpowered and stop running, the words to the third verse of “How Firm a Foundation” filled my mind. The words gave me the courage to finish the race. But all this time I’ve been wondering how I came to know this verse when I hadn’t heard the song for so long.
As I was glancing through the August 1989 New Era I read how a girl was comforted in the story “A Song of the Spirit.” That’s where I had read the words to the song, and in a moment when I too needed comfort, the words came to bless me. Thank you for that special story which aided the Spirit in reminding me I am not alone.

As the youth learned, family history is a lot more than just looking at pedigree charts. They found out that part of genealogy is keeping journals and working on personal histories. Mandy Smith, of the Cumberland Gap Branch, is just 15, but she was the expert invited to speak about keeping scrapbooks for a personal history. As she puts clippings, certificates, and snapshots in her book, she also writes captions under each item, explaining a little about what she was feeling. Mandy pointed out, “Personal history is not just for your children someday. It can also be good for you. Lots of times when I’m feeling down or in a bad mood, I look back at the good times I have had. It helps me remember the things that are important to me.”

I think movies and film can bring great power. I feel it gets hard to find wholesome content sometimes. I decided to make a short film that would inspire and uplift people. I called it “You Are Great.” It’s about a man who’s sad and is able to feel better by doing service for people. God wants us to stay clean. If you watch things that remind you of the Savior, it will bring the Spirit into your life.
Garrett L., 20, Colorado, USA

When I was 16, one of my best friends had a small birthday celebration in her basement with a few close friends. After a while my friend’s mom came down with a bottle of champagne. She filled the glasses and gave each of my friends a glass.
“No, thank you. I don’t drink,” I said when she came to me.
I thought that would be the end of it.
I had always prepared myself for “peer” pressure, and I thought that as an adult, her mom would understand. I was wrong. She was very persistent that I join in with the toast.
I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say. I thought I had been clear. I just stood there confused. I hadn’t planned on pressure from a parent. There was a moment of silence that seemed to go on forever but was only a few seconds. And then my friends literally encircled me and stepped in front of me and told my friend’s mom that I don’t drink.
Because I had never been shy about my standards, my friends knew my standards. None of my friends are Church members, but they all come from good families. They are good friends who help me keep my standards even when I’m in tough situations.

In January this year, my wife, Anita, and I, visited Abaiang Island with the vice president of Kiribati and his wife. Church members prepared well to receive them. The vice president spoke very highly of the Church.

Whilst there I met four widowed service missionaries: Sister Turia Manraoi Kaiea, (75) widowed for 12 years; Sister Tiena Kiakia, (64) widowed for 10 years; Sister Bakate Tekarika, (63) widowed for nine years and Sister Tengabi Ioaa, (70) widowed 10 years ago.

These four senior citizens receive monthly government grants of AUD 200. They went to their stake president after deciding that they can utilise the money well if they serve missions. They were set apart and off they went to Abaiang, an outer island in North Tarawa. They help in ministering and teach the temple preparation courses at Abaiang units. President Mwemwenikeaki said, “These are faithful sisters who are leading by example in serving missions.”

My name is Dumazedier Kabasele, and I live in Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo. I am married to a wonderful wife, Choudelle Kazadi, and we are the parents of two beautiful sons named Bryan and Khalis Kabasele.
I am a returned missionary who served in the French-speaking Democratic Republic of the Congo Lubumbashi Mission. The missionary manual Preach my Gospel inspired me to learn English because it would be a blessing for me, my family, and the Church. I did not realize how much this blessing would affect my life. My decision to learn English during my mission was supported by my mission president and his wife, Philip and Joy McMullin. I studied English two hours each day and this helped me to continue to gain more knowledge.
I got my first degree (an MD degree) in general medicine in my home country of DR Congo. Interested in learning more about the brain, I conducted further university studies in Bangalore, India, to expand my knowledge through a post-graduation fellowship in neurology and electrophysiology.
I first heard about the BYU-Pathway Worldwide program when I was in India. Most Church members were enrolled in this program. I was surprised that the Church offered the program in other countries but not my home country of DR Congo. But I could not join BYU-Pathway at that time due to my intense graduate studies, but my prayer was that the program could one day be offered in my home country and that I could join and learn more about it.
In 2019, the program was approved, and I was among the first generation of students in Kinshasa to be enrolled. The beginning was difficult for me, because I had a full-time job and lived in a different area from the meeting location. But I had the support of my family and my friend Patrick Kalambayi. We both walked a long distance to attend the meetings and returned home late. Sometimes we didn’t have electricity. We were looking for places with electricity to charge our computer.
At one point, the government authorities shut down internet due to some political issues. My friend and I went to the local UN agency for help, telling them we had to send our school assignments and we needed connection to the internet to do our homework. I have a testimony that Heavenly Father puts people in our path to support and help us in times of adversity, such as electricity and internet access shortages.
After completing PathwayConnect, I decided to enroll in the public health program at Brigham Young University-Idaho. I completed a certification in public health planning and implementation, health method evaluation and epidemiology. I have learned to support the world in disease prevention and developed a pandemic health program. I was very happy to support my country during the COVID-19 breakout in Kinshasa. People were amazing. I learned more skills about how to control this disease in my community.
The BYU-Pathway Worldwide program helped me to understand that we must be faithful and improve our skills to establish the kingdom of our Savior on the earth. This program increased my knowledge of the Savior and motivated me to gain more skills and to become more faithful.
Instead of dwelling on difficulties and struggle, I have learned to trust the Lord and to pursue my education at famous universities across the world. Today I am proud to say that I earned three university degrees: one from my country, one from India, and one from the United States. As a result, I have increased my income, my faith in Jesus Christ, and my skills in the field of public health.
The skills that I learned during my journey have helped me to build a health nongovernmental organization and work in mental health awareness in the DRC. My recent experience, when I was applying for a new job as a public health specialist at the Center for Disease Control in DRC, the human resources team was surprised that I have an American degree and I live in Congo, and it was easy for them to verify this from my diploma.
The hiring process was interesting and each step I went through, I learned to be ready due to the PathwayConnect program, preparing my CV and cover letter, enjoying the interview, and showing people my unique qualifications. I am grateful to my Heavenly Father for the opportunity He gave me to join the team of the Center for Disease Control in DRC to prevent, detect and control disease in my country.
As an African, we are blessed to have an American degree, serve our community, and strengthen the Church in our local area. BYU-Pathway Worldwide blesses my life, my family, and my country in this specific time. The program helped me to understand the principle of working hard quietly and to let your success be your noise.
Whatever level you are in life and whether you have a degree or not, please join the program and work hard, the Lord knows your effort and will assist you to gain a new degree and develop more skills and the world will pay you based on your education and skills.

I grew up in a home where my mother gave me a list of all the household chores I needed to do. One day, not long after we were married, I told Sue that if she would give me a list of chores I would do anything she wanted me to do. I thought this was pretty generous, but she got upset with me! She stamped her foot and said, "I am not giving you a list. This house is just as much your responsibility as it is mine. If you see something needs to be done, just do it."
That was a new thought for me. I had to learn a whole new way of thinking about the house. I had to take responsibility for seeing what needed to be done and doing it without a list. I started from that day to try to do that. But it was hard to change old habits and attitudes. I tried, and Sue had to learn to be patient with me. We both learned--with a lot of help from heaven. We had to humble ourselves before the Lord and seek His help. We learned there is a great unifying power in hard work and humility in marriage.

I was a young mother with five children under the age of six. My husband, Van, had just finished his first year of law school. We were a gospel-oriented family and had been blessed by the Lord; in fact, our married life was virtually free from serious adversity. My life revolved around my family. I loved being a wife and mother, and yet sometimes I realized my life was so filled with housework and daily tasks that it lacked spiritual intensity. Still, I did not know how to change it. We tried to express gratitude for our blessings, but without real opposition, how does one know how truly blessed he is?
Lehi’s instruction to Jacob that there must be opposition in all things (see 2 Ne. 2:11–15) was soon to acquire new significance in my life. I know now that it takes opposition, suffering, adversity to awaken us to the genuinely valuable things in life. I have also come to know that one of the greatest lessons that can come from adversity is learning to accept the Lord’s will and to depend wholly upon him.
For some time I had been having dizzy spells, nausea, loss of balance, and other disturbing symptoms. I had a nursing baby. Van was preparing for law finals. It was a terrible time for me to get sick, but I was, and we had to do something about it. After my doctor checked my inner ears, he sent me to a neurologist, who promptly put me in the hospital for tests.
The tests were painful and left me with intense headaches and nausea. Many times I prayed for relief of pain and strength to endure, and I was surprised and humbled by the quick response to my prayers. The doctors were looking for a tumor which was a little frightening, but Van and I naively imagined it would be something simple and operable and that I would be all right. Imagine my feelings when the neurologist came in one morning, looking very grave and upset, and said they had found a brain-stem tumor. It was serious. He told my husband such a tumor was inoperable and that it was probably malignant. We were stunned. Suddenly our optimism vanished. The future seemed bleak.
I kept thinking of all the reasons I could not die: I could not leave Van—how would he manage? And what about my babies?
Many were praying for us. I found out weeks later, and am still touched when I think of it, that my mother prayed that, if possible, she would take my place should someone die. What love she showed! Our ward fasted and prayed, and I was deeply moved. While I was in the hospital I had no idea of the many wonderful people who were concerned.
My husband was a man in anguish. There were no regrets, but oh, we had planned to grow old together! We had always been close. How could we possibly get along without each other? He prayed for understanding, peace of mind, and the courage to accept whatever happened.
I, too, prayed to have the right attitude. But it escaped me, until one morning I opened the Bible at random and was struck forcefully by the Lord’s words to Peter, “Lovest thou me more than these?” (John 21:15.) He seemed to be asking me that question. Did I love the Lord more than anything—more, even, than life itself? Yes, I told the Lord. Yes, I really did.
Finally, I was able to reconcile my feelings, to say, “Thy will be done” and really mean it. And when I could do that, I was filled with an inexpressible peace. I was no longer afraid. When I cried, it was because of my babies. How I hated to leave them to be raised by others! But we were an eternal family, sealed in the temple, and surely we would be together again.
During this period I felt very clearly the true significance of time on earth. In the eternal scheme, it is really so short, even if it lasts a hundred years. Those who are left on earth do miss the one who goes, but they should fill their lives with good things, and try to keep growing. The one who has died will be very busy in the spirit world.
Following my reconciliation with God, I felt a constant burning of the Spirit, and strength flowed from me to my loved ones. I began to understand that there were many in the spirit world waiting for me, and I would not need to feel afraid or alone. My loving father and my stepfather were both there to be with me. Yet the thought occurred to me over and over that I must keep my life in order. If somehow I were to live, I should see to it that I was prepared to die.
The doctors decided to give me a final test—a very painful injection of air into the spinal fluid. This would help pinpoint the tumor and perhaps tell the doctors more about it for possible cobalt treatments. Before the test, I received a beautiful priesthood blessing, promising that I would leave the hospital.
While I was recovering from the test, the doctor approached my family in amazement: there was no tumor. There was actually a space where the tumor had been, but nothing was there. The doctors had no explanation. They admitted to being baffled.
Suddenly I knew what the expression “a new lease on life” really meant. I had a new lease. After all, we are all here by the generosity of a loving Father and according to his wisdom. My “lease” had been renewed. After seventeen days in the hospital, I left, barely able to walk but supremely happy. This was the answer to the prayers of many faithful, wonderful people, and the blessing and power of the priesthood.
As I grew stronger, my life was once again filled with all the mundane chores of cooking, cleaning, laundry, and diaper changing. It was also, more than ever, filled with gratitude and happiness, and with an understanding of the need to constantly seek the Spirit, carefully teach the gospel to our children, and strive for more meaning in prayer.
My constant prayer now is that I will live to be worthy of the Lord’s confidence in me. None of us knows how long we may live. I hope to make the best of all the time I may have.