Let me share another example of a courageous single mother who has chosen the good part and effectively lives within her situation. She is in her mid-thirties and has suffered much heartache in her life. Shortly after she and her husband were married in the temple, he became inactive. This man chose to spend most of his time with male companions. There was no concern for the welfare of his family nor any desire to build a meaningful relationship with his wife. Church activities became nonexistent in his life, and soon he was led down the path of transgression.
Of necessity this lovely woman is providing financially for herself and her children. Her paramount goal is to make a happy home environment in which her boys and girls can feel emotional, financial, and spiritual security. For ten years their home was deprived of these ingredients of happiness.
Even though she hopes that marriage may come again sometime in the future, for the present she is concerned with the needs of her children and is working to build a strong family unit centered around the Church and its teachings.
As a single parent she has chosen the good part.
In times of hurt and discouragement, it may be consoling for her and for all of us to recall that no one can do anything permanently to us that will last for eternity. Only we ourselves can affect our eternal progression.
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Choose the Good Part
Summary: A woman in her mid-thirties married in the temple but her husband became inactive and neglected the family, eventually transgressing. She provided financially for her children and focused on creating a secure, gospel-centered home despite a decade without needed stability. She continues to hope for marriage in the future while choosing the good part as a single parent.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Church Members (General)
Adversity
Agency and Accountability
Apostasy
Children
Courage
Faith
Family
Parenting
Self-Reliance
Single-Parent Families
Counsel for Hard Choices
Summary: After President Ezra Taft Benson urged members to get out of debt, Henry B. Eyring and his wife considered how to follow the counsel. That evening they acted in faith by calling about a long-unsold property. A buyer had placed an offer that day for slightly more than their mortgage, enabling them to become debt-free.
President Henry B. Eyring, First Counselor in the First Presidency, told about a time when he followed prophetic counsel. During one general conference, President Ezra Taft Benson (1899–1994) urged members to get out of debt—specifically mortgage debt.
President Eyring said: “I turned to my wife after the meeting and asked, ‘Do you think there is any way we could do that?’ At first we couldn’t.” But by that evening he thought of a property they had unsuccessfully tried to sell for years. “We trusted God and … His servant’s message, [so] we placed a phone call. … I heard an answer that to this day strengthens my trust in God and His servants.” That same day a man had placed an offer on the Eyrings’ property for an amount just greater than their mortgage. The Eyrings soon became free of debt (see “Trust in God, Then Go and Do,” Liahona, Nov. 2010, 72–73).
President Eyring said: “I turned to my wife after the meeting and asked, ‘Do you think there is any way we could do that?’ At first we couldn’t.” But by that evening he thought of a property they had unsuccessfully tried to sell for years. “We trusted God and … His servant’s message, [so] we placed a phone call. … I heard an answer that to this day strengthens my trust in God and His servants.” That same day a man had placed an offer on the Eyrings’ property for an amount just greater than their mortgage. The Eyrings soon became free of debt (see “Trust in God, Then Go and Do,” Liahona, Nov. 2010, 72–73).
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👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Other
Apostle
Debt
Faith
Obedience
Revelation
T. J.
Summary: Danny, a student, watches school bully Timothy John (T.J.) steal a book and bravely urges him to return it, which T.J. does. The next day Danny learns T.J. hasn’t eaten and has no mother or phone, and later discovers he and his father live in a car. Choosing kindness, Danny includes T.J. in tetherball, and other kids follow; T.J. stops bullying, is praised for his art, wins a contest, and eventually moves when his dad finds a job. He later sends a postcard from their new apartment as their friendship leaves a lasting impression on Danny.
Timothy John Harris was a bully. Everyone at Pierce School stayed out of his way, including me. I could count on three hands the times he got me into trouble. He didn’t just push everybody around, he tattled. If I so much as rested my head, T. J. would tell the teacher, “Danny’s looking at his neighbor’s paper!”
Well, Timothy John had been here for about three weeks when my chance to get even came. Mr. Roundy, our teacher, had sent us to the school bookfair in groups of six. I happened to be by T. J. when he slipped a book into a folder that cost fifty cents. The book was Cool Cars, and everybody wanted it. I wanted it, too, but I didn’t have $4.95, which is what it cost. When it was time to buy, Timothy John was in line in front of me and was only charged the fifty cents for the folder. They didn’t see the book. I wondered if I should say something right then, but I didn’t.
When we got back to class, I thought I’d tell the teacher. Then I thought, What if T. J. really picks on me after school? I have to admit—he was pretty scary. He had blond hair that stuck out all over his head, and he had dirty hands with scabs on them. Well, scary or not, I had to do something!
Mr. Roundy said that he was going to show us a film about a family starting a farm. When the lights were off, I thought I could tell Mr. Roundy without T. J. noticing. I looked over at T. J. and couldn’t believe my eyes. He was crying! Crying over a film! I hardly felt like telling on him then.
By the time the lights came on, Timothy John looked as hard and mean as ever. I decided to write him a note before I chickened out: “I know you stole that book. Just take it back, and I won’t tell.”
I set it on his desk when I went to sharpen my pencil, and when I came back, I could feel him watching me. I’m in for it now, I thought.
At the start of recess, T. J. came over to me. He had mean green eyes and gave me the creeps. “OK, Danny, I’ll do it,” he said. “You come with me.”
We walked in silence to the book fair. I watched T. J. over the top of a book I picked up. He tipped his folder upside down, and the book slipped neatly back into it’s place on the shelf.
When we went out for the rest of recess, I kept expecting to get clobbered, but he picked on other kids.
I couldn’t play after school that day because my whole family had to go to the dentist. That evening it was my turn to wash the dishes, and when it was time for bed, I couldn’t sleep. It’s impossible to sleep when you live in a trailer and the wind is blowing. It sounds exactly like monsters moaning all around you.
The next day, after eating lunch, I played tetherball with Morse, my best friend. His real name is Cody, but on the roll, his name says, “Morris, Cody,” so we call him Morse Code. He doesn’t mind. Anyway, I was actually winning, when T. J. walked over. I sure didn’t want to play against him, so as soon as I won, I yelled, “I’m going to get a drink!”
I looked back to see T. J. slump down, holding his stomach. I hoped someone else would help him, but nobody did, so I walked him to the nurse’s office. He looked pretty sick.
“Did you eat lunch today?” the nurse asked him, taking his temperature. T. J. shook his head.
“How about breakfast?” He shook his head again.
The nurse got him some juice out of her little fridge, and a paper about the free breakfast program.
“You have a temperature,” the nurse said. “If you’ll give me your phone number, I’ll call your mom to come get you.”
“We don’t have a phone,” T. J. mumbled.
“How can we reach your mother?”
“I don’t have a mom.”
The nurse looked at me. T. J. drank his juice.
“I’ll walk him home,” I said.
“No!” T. J. said sharply. Then, softening, “I’ll get there OK.”
“I think Danny’s right,” the nurse said. “Someone should make sure that you get in the door.”
T. J. and I checked out and walked toward the river without saying much. We call it the river even though it’s dry most of the year. The air smelled like people were starting to burn wood in their fireplaces.
I had some peanuts in my pocket left over from lunch, so I held them out. “Want some?”
We shared my leftovers, and he cracked the shells with his fingers instead of his teeth, just like I do.
When we got to the end of the street, T. J. said, looking toward the river, “I never stole anything before. I’m glad you stopped me.”
I didn’t know what to say. He went on, “I just live a few houses down. You can go back now.”
“No,” I said, “I told the nurse I’d see you in the door.”
“Look,” he said, clenching his teeth, “this is as far as I want you to go.”
“All right,” I said. “See you tomorrow.” I walked off, wondering why he was so touchy.
Then he called after me, “Danny, thanks!”
“It’s OK,” I called back. I felt kind of good.
I watched him from around a fence. He kept walking and walking, way past the houses. I found a closer lookout point and saw him walk clear to the river bottom.
A man in a baseball cap got out of an old car and gave him a hug. T. J. leaned against him, and the man felt his head. Then he put T. J. in the backseat and tucked a blanket around him. They didn’t drive anywhere. I couldn’t figure out what was going on until the man got some things out of a sack and started to build a little fire. Then it hit me: T. J. lived in that car! That’s why he didn’t want me to come with him.
I thought about T. J. a lot that night. His dad must have been out of a job. Suddenly our trailer seemed like a pretty nice place to live.
Morse and I were playing tetherball the next morning before school started, when T. J. came over and just stood looking on. “Hey, T.J.,” I yelled. “Want to play?”
Morse looked at me like I was crazy, but T. J. shrugged his shoulders and walked over.
“No rope swings,” I said, hitting the ball to him. T. J. almost smiled and played hard. He skunked me!
“Come on, Morse,” I said. “You play the winner.”
T. J. beat him too. Soon there were kids lined up, bragging that they could beat T.J.—but not one did.
From then on, kids started hitting T. J. on the back instead of in the stomach. He stopped trying to get kids into trouble, and he wasn’t a bully anymore.
The art teacher said, “Timothy John, you are a fine artist!” T.J., of all people!
The day T. J. won the district art contest, he told us that he was going to move. “My dad got a new job.”
Even though he was a friend now and I would miss him, I was happy for him.
Two months went by before I heard from T. J. again. I smiled when I got his postcard; there was an apartment number on it.
It’s winter now. I kick holes in the ice puddles with my heels on the way to school. Sometimes when I walk home by way of the river bottom, I think about T. J. And peanuts. And friendship.
Well, Timothy John had been here for about three weeks when my chance to get even came. Mr. Roundy, our teacher, had sent us to the school bookfair in groups of six. I happened to be by T. J. when he slipped a book into a folder that cost fifty cents. The book was Cool Cars, and everybody wanted it. I wanted it, too, but I didn’t have $4.95, which is what it cost. When it was time to buy, Timothy John was in line in front of me and was only charged the fifty cents for the folder. They didn’t see the book. I wondered if I should say something right then, but I didn’t.
When we got back to class, I thought I’d tell the teacher. Then I thought, What if T. J. really picks on me after school? I have to admit—he was pretty scary. He had blond hair that stuck out all over his head, and he had dirty hands with scabs on them. Well, scary or not, I had to do something!
Mr. Roundy said that he was going to show us a film about a family starting a farm. When the lights were off, I thought I could tell Mr. Roundy without T. J. noticing. I looked over at T. J. and couldn’t believe my eyes. He was crying! Crying over a film! I hardly felt like telling on him then.
By the time the lights came on, Timothy John looked as hard and mean as ever. I decided to write him a note before I chickened out: “I know you stole that book. Just take it back, and I won’t tell.”
I set it on his desk when I went to sharpen my pencil, and when I came back, I could feel him watching me. I’m in for it now, I thought.
At the start of recess, T. J. came over to me. He had mean green eyes and gave me the creeps. “OK, Danny, I’ll do it,” he said. “You come with me.”
We walked in silence to the book fair. I watched T. J. over the top of a book I picked up. He tipped his folder upside down, and the book slipped neatly back into it’s place on the shelf.
When we went out for the rest of recess, I kept expecting to get clobbered, but he picked on other kids.
I couldn’t play after school that day because my whole family had to go to the dentist. That evening it was my turn to wash the dishes, and when it was time for bed, I couldn’t sleep. It’s impossible to sleep when you live in a trailer and the wind is blowing. It sounds exactly like monsters moaning all around you.
The next day, after eating lunch, I played tetherball with Morse, my best friend. His real name is Cody, but on the roll, his name says, “Morris, Cody,” so we call him Morse Code. He doesn’t mind. Anyway, I was actually winning, when T. J. walked over. I sure didn’t want to play against him, so as soon as I won, I yelled, “I’m going to get a drink!”
I looked back to see T. J. slump down, holding his stomach. I hoped someone else would help him, but nobody did, so I walked him to the nurse’s office. He looked pretty sick.
“Did you eat lunch today?” the nurse asked him, taking his temperature. T. J. shook his head.
“How about breakfast?” He shook his head again.
The nurse got him some juice out of her little fridge, and a paper about the free breakfast program.
“You have a temperature,” the nurse said. “If you’ll give me your phone number, I’ll call your mom to come get you.”
“We don’t have a phone,” T. J. mumbled.
“How can we reach your mother?”
“I don’t have a mom.”
The nurse looked at me. T. J. drank his juice.
“I’ll walk him home,” I said.
“No!” T. J. said sharply. Then, softening, “I’ll get there OK.”
“I think Danny’s right,” the nurse said. “Someone should make sure that you get in the door.”
T. J. and I checked out and walked toward the river without saying much. We call it the river even though it’s dry most of the year. The air smelled like people were starting to burn wood in their fireplaces.
I had some peanuts in my pocket left over from lunch, so I held them out. “Want some?”
We shared my leftovers, and he cracked the shells with his fingers instead of his teeth, just like I do.
When we got to the end of the street, T. J. said, looking toward the river, “I never stole anything before. I’m glad you stopped me.”
I didn’t know what to say. He went on, “I just live a few houses down. You can go back now.”
“No,” I said, “I told the nurse I’d see you in the door.”
“Look,” he said, clenching his teeth, “this is as far as I want you to go.”
“All right,” I said. “See you tomorrow.” I walked off, wondering why he was so touchy.
Then he called after me, “Danny, thanks!”
“It’s OK,” I called back. I felt kind of good.
I watched him from around a fence. He kept walking and walking, way past the houses. I found a closer lookout point and saw him walk clear to the river bottom.
A man in a baseball cap got out of an old car and gave him a hug. T. J. leaned against him, and the man felt his head. Then he put T. J. in the backseat and tucked a blanket around him. They didn’t drive anywhere. I couldn’t figure out what was going on until the man got some things out of a sack and started to build a little fire. Then it hit me: T. J. lived in that car! That’s why he didn’t want me to come with him.
I thought about T. J. a lot that night. His dad must have been out of a job. Suddenly our trailer seemed like a pretty nice place to live.
Morse and I were playing tetherball the next morning before school started, when T. J. came over and just stood looking on. “Hey, T.J.,” I yelled. “Want to play?”
Morse looked at me like I was crazy, but T. J. shrugged his shoulders and walked over.
“No rope swings,” I said, hitting the ball to him. T. J. almost smiled and played hard. He skunked me!
“Come on, Morse,” I said. “You play the winner.”
T. J. beat him too. Soon there were kids lined up, bragging that they could beat T.J.—but not one did.
From then on, kids started hitting T. J. on the back instead of in the stomach. He stopped trying to get kids into trouble, and he wasn’t a bully anymore.
The art teacher said, “Timothy John, you are a fine artist!” T.J., of all people!
The day T. J. won the district art contest, he told us that he was going to move. “My dad got a new job.”
Even though he was a friend now and I would miss him, I was happy for him.
Two months went by before I heard from T. J. again. I smiled when I got his postcard; there was an apartment number on it.
It’s winter now. I kick holes in the ice puddles with my heels on the way to school. Sometimes when I walk home by way of the river bottom, I think about T. J. And peanuts. And friendship.
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👤 Children
👤 Friends
👤 Other
Adversity
Children
Friendship
Honesty
Judging Others
Kindness
Service
The Sharpest Thing in the World
Summary: Two sisters, Melissa and Shelly, talk at bedtime as Melissa wonders about the sharpest thing in the world. After Shelly snaps at her, Melissa realizes that words can hurt the most. Shelly apologizes, and Melissa adds that words can also be the softest, as the sisters reconcile with kind words and a hug.
The bed felt soft and warm. Melissa hoped her sister Shelly wasn’t asleep yet in her bed. As Melissa watched the shadows made by the moonlight streaming through the window and across the dressers and beds, they made curious gray shapes on the wall.
“I wonder what the sharpest thing in the world is,” Melissa said.
“Who cares about that?” responded Shelly, who thought Melissa was a nuisance when she asked so many questions.
“Well, it couldn’t be shadows,” Melissa said. “Even though they have corners, they’re very soft.”
“Oh, are they really?” Shelly declared sarcastically.
Melissa lay quietly for a moment, but she kept thinking. Soon she said, “If I wanted to find out what the sharpest thing in the world is, I’d start by letting every single horse bite me.”
“Oh, no,” moaned Shelly.
“Then I’d let every dog bite me.”
“What a dumb idea,” said Shelly. “You couldn’t do that.”
“Pins are very sharp,” Melissa continued, undeterred. “They can go through most anything. Or Mama’s best scissors might be the sharpest thing in the world. Remember how easily they cut my hair?”
“Go to sleep!” Shelly said crossly.
“Our sharpest knife cuts through a loaf of homemade bread in a second. But Daddy’s nails go through wood. Oh!” Melissa cried excitedly, “I think I know what the sharpest thing in the world is. Great-great grandpa Johnson’s sword! If you got poked with that it would really hurt.”
“Will you please be quiet, Melissa, so I can go to sleep!”
“If I could try all the horses and dogs and pins and scissors and knives and nails and swords, then I’d know what the sharpest thing in the world is.”
Shelly suddenly sat up in bed. “Melissa,” she shouted, “if you don’t be quiet, I’m going to tell Dad. I wish I had a bedroom of my own. I wish I didn’t have to share a bedroom with a sister who talks all night!” Then she lay down again, turned her back to Melissa, and pulled the covers over her shoulder.
Melissa was quiet for a long time. Finally, out of the darkness came a wistful voice. “I know what the sharpest thing in the world is.”
“Please, be quiet,” said Shelly.
“It’s words,” Melissa said quietly. “They hurt the most.”
Shelly turned over and looked at Melissa with a mixture of surprise and affection. “Oh, Melissa,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean those things I said. I like sharing my bedroom with you. And I like having you for a sister.”
The girls were both silent for a few minutes thinking. Suddenly Melissa whispered, “Shelly.”
“What now?” Shelly asked laughingly.
“I know what the softest thing in the world is,” Melissa declared thoughtfully. “Softer than shadows and darkness and pillows and kittens and blankets and moonlight.”
“Tell me,” said Shelly good-naturedly. “What’s the softest thing in the world?”
“It’s words,” said Melissa.
Through the darkness she could almost see her sister smiling. And then she felt soft arms around her and Shelly whispered, “Oh, Melissa, I love you.”
“I wonder what the sharpest thing in the world is,” Melissa said.
“Who cares about that?” responded Shelly, who thought Melissa was a nuisance when she asked so many questions.
“Well, it couldn’t be shadows,” Melissa said. “Even though they have corners, they’re very soft.”
“Oh, are they really?” Shelly declared sarcastically.
Melissa lay quietly for a moment, but she kept thinking. Soon she said, “If I wanted to find out what the sharpest thing in the world is, I’d start by letting every single horse bite me.”
“Oh, no,” moaned Shelly.
“Then I’d let every dog bite me.”
“What a dumb idea,” said Shelly. “You couldn’t do that.”
“Pins are very sharp,” Melissa continued, undeterred. “They can go through most anything. Or Mama’s best scissors might be the sharpest thing in the world. Remember how easily they cut my hair?”
“Go to sleep!” Shelly said crossly.
“Our sharpest knife cuts through a loaf of homemade bread in a second. But Daddy’s nails go through wood. Oh!” Melissa cried excitedly, “I think I know what the sharpest thing in the world is. Great-great grandpa Johnson’s sword! If you got poked with that it would really hurt.”
“Will you please be quiet, Melissa, so I can go to sleep!”
“If I could try all the horses and dogs and pins and scissors and knives and nails and swords, then I’d know what the sharpest thing in the world is.”
Shelly suddenly sat up in bed. “Melissa,” she shouted, “if you don’t be quiet, I’m going to tell Dad. I wish I had a bedroom of my own. I wish I didn’t have to share a bedroom with a sister who talks all night!” Then she lay down again, turned her back to Melissa, and pulled the covers over her shoulder.
Melissa was quiet for a long time. Finally, out of the darkness came a wistful voice. “I know what the sharpest thing in the world is.”
“Please, be quiet,” said Shelly.
“It’s words,” Melissa said quietly. “They hurt the most.”
Shelly turned over and looked at Melissa with a mixture of surprise and affection. “Oh, Melissa,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean those things I said. I like sharing my bedroom with you. And I like having you for a sister.”
The girls were both silent for a few minutes thinking. Suddenly Melissa whispered, “Shelly.”
“What now?” Shelly asked laughingly.
“I know what the softest thing in the world is,” Melissa declared thoughtfully. “Softer than shadows and darkness and pillows and kittens and blankets and moonlight.”
“Tell me,” said Shelly good-naturedly. “What’s the softest thing in the world?”
“It’s words,” said Melissa.
Through the darkness she could almost see her sister smiling. And then she felt soft arms around her and Shelly whispered, “Oh, Melissa, I love you.”
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👤 Children
Children
Family
Forgiveness
Kindness
Love
A Testimony Feels Good
Summary: A young boy named Bryan asks his family what a testimony is and, during fast and testimony meeting, takes notes on what others share. As he listens, he feels the Spirit grow and decides to bear his own testimony. He walks to the pulpit, shares his beliefs about Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, prayer, and the Book of Mormon, and feels peace and safety. Afterward, he tells his sister that bearing a testimony makes the good feeling inside even better.
“What’s a testimony?” I asked my mom one Sunday as we were getting ready for church. I knew that it was fast Sunday, that people would be “bearing their testimonies,” and I wasn’t sure what a testimony was.
My sister, Diana, hurried by, and Mom asked her, “What do you think a testimony is, Diana?”
“I think it’s when the Holy Ghost tells you something is true,” she said. “We’ve been studying about Jesus Christ in seminary. I have a testimony that He loves me and that He died for me. It’s a good feeling inside to know that He will help me when I have problems.”
“We can have a testimony of many things, Bryan,” Mom said. “Bearing a testimony means you tell how you know a gospel principle is true.
“I have an idea,” she added later, as we were going into the chapel. “Why don’t you write down all the things that the people bear testimony of in sacrament meeting today?”
“I can help you spell the people’s names,” Dad said. “Pretend that you are a secretary or reporter. It will help you learn what a testimony is.”
After the sacrament, Dad handed me a piece of paper and a pencil. At the top he had written, “Name, Testimony,” and he had drawn a big line underneath. I felt like a news reporter as I wrote down everything.
Brother Nielson talked about how his prayers had been answered that week, and I wrote “prayers answered” beside his name.
Brother Brown, who must be the oldest person in our ward, bore his testimony next. He told how a priesthood blessing had saved his sister’s life. Dad showed me how to spell priesthood. I know that when I have a sick stomach or a really sore throat and Dad gives me a blessing, I feel better immediately. Sometimes my stomach or throat still hurts, but I feel better. It’s like the feeling I have when I have a bad dream and Mom comes and holds me and tells me about Jesus. After she does this, the bad feeling goes away and I feel sleepy again. I think I have a testimony of priesthood blessings, just like Brother Brown.
Sister Hatty cried when she bore her testimony about how glad she was that families can be together forever. Dad whispered to me that her father had died the week before. I couldn’t think what to write down as her testimony, so Dad spelled out resurrection for me.
As I wrote the names and topics, a strange feeling began to grow in me. “Dad,” I whispered, “How old do you have to be to bear a testimony?”
“You can bear your testimony when you’re old enough to have a testimony.”
“Can someone my age bear his testimony?” I whispered.
“If a person is old enough to know what a testimony is,” Dad whispered back, “he can bear it. Children know things are true, just like grown-ups.”
When Craig bore his testimony, the funny feeling inside me grew bigger. Craig was still in elementary school, like me. He said that he was glad that his older brother, Aaron, was serving a mission. Craig said that he wanted to go on a mission, too, when he got older. I wrote “mission” by his name and thought how wonderful it would be to be a missionary like Aaron. Craig said that missionaries bear their testimonies all the time.
It was then that I decided that I wanted to bear my testimony. I wasn’t old enough to be a missionary, but I could tell what I believed in. Dad smiled and gave me a hug when I whispered what I was going to do.
When Sister Morris sat down, I took a deep breath and started walking to the front of the chapel. I felt really scared, and I wished I could run back to my seat. But the feeling that I wanted to bear my testimony kept me moving toward the front.
“I love Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ,” I said shakily and very loudly. I paused and I felt better. “I like to read the Book of Mormon. I get a good feeling when I read it, even when I don’t understand all of it. I like to pray. I know Heavenly Father answers my prayers.” The wonderful feeling had spread all over me, and I felt warm and safe, like when I am wrapped in Dad’s strong arms.
I felt really good when I finished my testimony, and I quickly walked back to Mom and Dad. Diana gave me a big hug as I squeezed by her. I whispered to her, “A testimony is a really good feeling that makes you happy inside, Diana, just like you said.” Then I added, “Bearing your testimony makes the good feeling inside feel even better.”
My sister, Diana, hurried by, and Mom asked her, “What do you think a testimony is, Diana?”
“I think it’s when the Holy Ghost tells you something is true,” she said. “We’ve been studying about Jesus Christ in seminary. I have a testimony that He loves me and that He died for me. It’s a good feeling inside to know that He will help me when I have problems.”
“We can have a testimony of many things, Bryan,” Mom said. “Bearing a testimony means you tell how you know a gospel principle is true.
“I have an idea,” she added later, as we were going into the chapel. “Why don’t you write down all the things that the people bear testimony of in sacrament meeting today?”
“I can help you spell the people’s names,” Dad said. “Pretend that you are a secretary or reporter. It will help you learn what a testimony is.”
After the sacrament, Dad handed me a piece of paper and a pencil. At the top he had written, “Name, Testimony,” and he had drawn a big line underneath. I felt like a news reporter as I wrote down everything.
Brother Nielson talked about how his prayers had been answered that week, and I wrote “prayers answered” beside his name.
Brother Brown, who must be the oldest person in our ward, bore his testimony next. He told how a priesthood blessing had saved his sister’s life. Dad showed me how to spell priesthood. I know that when I have a sick stomach or a really sore throat and Dad gives me a blessing, I feel better immediately. Sometimes my stomach or throat still hurts, but I feel better. It’s like the feeling I have when I have a bad dream and Mom comes and holds me and tells me about Jesus. After she does this, the bad feeling goes away and I feel sleepy again. I think I have a testimony of priesthood blessings, just like Brother Brown.
Sister Hatty cried when she bore her testimony about how glad she was that families can be together forever. Dad whispered to me that her father had died the week before. I couldn’t think what to write down as her testimony, so Dad spelled out resurrection for me.
As I wrote the names and topics, a strange feeling began to grow in me. “Dad,” I whispered, “How old do you have to be to bear a testimony?”
“You can bear your testimony when you’re old enough to have a testimony.”
“Can someone my age bear his testimony?” I whispered.
“If a person is old enough to know what a testimony is,” Dad whispered back, “he can bear it. Children know things are true, just like grown-ups.”
When Craig bore his testimony, the funny feeling inside me grew bigger. Craig was still in elementary school, like me. He said that he was glad that his older brother, Aaron, was serving a mission. Craig said that he wanted to go on a mission, too, when he got older. I wrote “mission” by his name and thought how wonderful it would be to be a missionary like Aaron. Craig said that missionaries bear their testimonies all the time.
It was then that I decided that I wanted to bear my testimony. I wasn’t old enough to be a missionary, but I could tell what I believed in. Dad smiled and gave me a hug when I whispered what I was going to do.
When Sister Morris sat down, I took a deep breath and started walking to the front of the chapel. I felt really scared, and I wished I could run back to my seat. But the feeling that I wanted to bear my testimony kept me moving toward the front.
“I love Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ,” I said shakily and very loudly. I paused and I felt better. “I like to read the Book of Mormon. I get a good feeling when I read it, even when I don’t understand all of it. I like to pray. I know Heavenly Father answers my prayers.” The wonderful feeling had spread all over me, and I felt warm and safe, like when I am wrapped in Dad’s strong arms.
I felt really good when I finished my testimony, and I quickly walked back to Mom and Dad. Diana gave me a big hug as I squeezed by her. I whispered to her, “A testimony is a really good feeling that makes you happy inside, Diana, just like you said.” Then I added, “Bearing your testimony makes the good feeling inside feel even better.”
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👤 Children
👤 Parents
👤 Church Members (General)
Book of Mormon
Children
Family
Holy Ghost
Jesus Christ
Prayer
Priesthood Blessing
Sacrament Meeting
Testimony
Trust in the Lord . . . Lean Not Unto Thy Own Understanding
Summary: After hearing a story about a Tahitian athlete who honored the Sabbath, the speaker felt impressed to stop working on Sundays. She went to resign from her job, expecting to lose it, but her boss instead offered to move her work to another day. The experience strengthened her trust in the Lord.
Fast forward . . . I had graduated from BYU-Hawaii and was taking time off from school to earn money to go onto graduate school. I was working three jobs, but arranged to work after my meetings on Sundays. One day my father shared a story of soccer star in Tahiti, Erroll Bennett. “Errol was planning on joining the church, but there was one problem, all the soccer games were on Sundays and he knew by joining the church he would need to keep the Sabbath holy”. (4) He was famous and one of the brilliant soccer player in Tahiti. Although he was passionate about soccer it was more important to him to follow the Savior.
Errol made his decision, not to play on Sunday and to be baptized. To his surprise just a few days later the League made a change in the rules, that his club would not play any Sunday games instead games would be played during the week. (5) I thought, “Wow, that pretty amazing, but I’m no one important, if I told my boss that I could not work on Sunday, he would probably tell me to go find another job.” A few months went by, but that story stayed with me. I finally realized that it was not enough to only make my Sunday meetings, it was about embracing the Sabbath fully and keeping the commandments.
I came to the conclusion that I needed to trust the Lord and stop my Sunday job. The day came and I went into tell my boss that I was giving my two week resignation notice. He asked me why. I told him that I was grateful that they had arranged my work schedule around my church meetings, but it was important that I not work on Sundays. Then he asked me, “Could you work another day during the week if you have Sunday off?” A bit surprised by his question, I said, “Sure!” Then he asked, “Is that all?” I replied, “Yes.” He then said, “Okay, you have Sundays off. Your schedule will be adjusted.” I left the office stunned, but elated. I could not believe the outcome. I trusted in the Lord and “Wow!” It really was not that hard.
Errol made his decision, not to play on Sunday and to be baptized. To his surprise just a few days later the League made a change in the rules, that his club would not play any Sunday games instead games would be played during the week. (5) I thought, “Wow, that pretty amazing, but I’m no one important, if I told my boss that I could not work on Sunday, he would probably tell me to go find another job.” A few months went by, but that story stayed with me. I finally realized that it was not enough to only make my Sunday meetings, it was about embracing the Sabbath fully and keeping the commandments.
I came to the conclusion that I needed to trust the Lord and stop my Sunday job. The day came and I went into tell my boss that I was giving my two week resignation notice. He asked me why. I told him that I was grateful that they had arranged my work schedule around my church meetings, but it was important that I not work on Sundays. Then he asked me, “Could you work another day during the week if you have Sunday off?” A bit surprised by his question, I said, “Sure!” Then he asked, “Is that all?” I replied, “Yes.” He then said, “Okay, you have Sundays off. Your schedule will be adjusted.” I left the office stunned, but elated. I could not believe the outcome. I trusted in the Lord and “Wow!” It really was not that hard.
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👤 Young Adults
👤 Parents
👤 Other
Grandpa Wore Braces
Summary: After being picked to move up from a Little League farm team to the majors, the narrator worries about not having proper cleats and a decent glove. Mom can't help, but Grandpa does some "tall thinking" and later surprises him with new cleats and a glove. The gift cements their close bond.
I can talk to Grandpa. He always listens to me, and he seems to know how I really feel. Like the time I got picked from my Little League farm team to play in the majors! Now, tennis shoes are OK for a farm team, but for the majors—that’s different! For those teams, you should have real cleats and a glove that isn’t a hand-me-down from three older cousins. I tried to explain all this to Mom, and she just sighed and looked up at the ceiling. But Grandpa put his thumbs in his braces and did some tall thinking. A while later, when I was trying on my uniform—not just a T-shirt with the team name on it, but a real uniform with striped pants and socks and everything—Grandpa came in and gave me two boxes tied with string. In one was a set of real cleats, and in the other was my very own new glove! Now that’s what I call a buddy! Grandpa grinned at me, and I grinned right back.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Other
Children
Family
Friendship
Kindness
Love
Increasing our Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ
Summary: A stake president spent years teaching youth the importance of temple marriage, and many followed that counsel. Later, some young divorced women came to him wondering why their temple marriages had still failed. As he prayed, he felt impressed to teach not only temple marriage but temple living, recognizing that lasting blessings require living the principles taught in the temple.
Recently while visiting with a wonderful stake president, he told of how for years he had taught the young people in his stake the importance of Temple Marriage. The majority of the youth in that stake did get married in the temple and all seemed well. Then towards the end of his time as stake president, a few young sisters came to him and asked him what went wrong. They had been married in the temple but for various reasons their marriages had not worked out. "We did what you asked, so why has this happened?"
He prayed a lot about it and finally received this impression: Teach them the importance of Temple Living. As he pondered that thought, he realized that Temple Living is really what the Temple is about. The ordinances, such as Temple Marriage, are vital and should always be taught and emphasized – but the goal for everyone - including these young divorcees, widows, everyone whether married or single, is Temple Living. If we would all make Temple Living our way of life, there would be much greater happiness and fulfillment in our lives.
He prayed a lot about it and finally received this impression: Teach them the importance of Temple Living. As he pondered that thought, he realized that Temple Living is really what the Temple is about. The ordinances, such as Temple Marriage, are vital and should always be taught and emphasized – but the goal for everyone - including these young divorcees, widows, everyone whether married or single, is Temple Living. If we would all make Temple Living our way of life, there would be much greater happiness and fulfillment in our lives.
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👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Young Adults
👤 Other
Comfort from Beyond the Veil
Summary: The narrator and his wife rush to the hospital where their son Matthew is born six weeks early with underdeveloped lungs. After receiving a name and a father's blessing, Matthew clings to life until his mother can see him, then passes away. The parents grieve deeply, and the mother finds happiness again when another healthy baby is born.
Through the long hours of the night, I kept a lonely vigil by the nursery window. Inside the nursery, a tiny boy struggled for breath. The day before, we had rushed nearly 160 kilometers from our ranch to the hospital. The baby was born shortly after our arrival, six weeks premature. He looked like a fine, healthy boy, but the doctor told us that his lungs had been slow in developing and that he was fighting a desperate battle for air.
A few hours before, I had given Matthew his name and a father’s blessing. As I had blessed him, the Spirit had assured me that he would someday be a part of our family.
Little Matthew continued to cling to life until his mother was able to come to the nursery to see him. He died before we left the room. It seemed to me that he had only waited for her to have one look before he returned to his heavenly home.
The shock of our son’s death left my wife in such a daze that she could not cry. It was only after the small graveside service, when we had returned home to the ranch, that she was finally able to release her grief. She wept for a long time.
The emptiness of losing a baby after those long months of expecting him was very hard on her. She wasn’t really happy again until the next baby, a fine healthy boy, arrived.
A few hours before, I had given Matthew his name and a father’s blessing. As I had blessed him, the Spirit had assured me that he would someday be a part of our family.
Little Matthew continued to cling to life until his mother was able to come to the nursery to see him. He died before we left the room. It seemed to me that he had only waited for her to have one look before he returned to his heavenly home.
The shock of our son’s death left my wife in such a daze that she could not cry. It was only after the small graveside service, when we had returned home to the ranch, that she was finally able to release her grief. She wept for a long time.
The emptiness of losing a baby after those long months of expecting him was very hard on her. She wasn’t really happy again until the next baby, a fine healthy boy, arrived.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
Death
Family
Grief
Holy Ghost
Priesthood Blessing
Ten Gifts from the Lord
Summary: The speaker recounts his wife’s grandmother, who moved to Manti with her husband when he was called to work on the temple. After he died from a work injury, she lived as a widow for over sixty years, working largely alone to raise and educate her children. Though her trials were heavy, her accomplishment was heroic and deeply satisfying.
I think of my wife’s grandmother who, as a young married woman, went to Manti with her husband, who was called to work on the temple when it was being constructed there. While so working, he suffered an injury which took his life. She lived a widow for more than sixty years, working and struggling, most of the time alone, to rear and educate her children. Her lot was hard, but her satisfaction was great and her accomplishment heroic.
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👤 Pioneers
👤 Parents
👤 Church Members (General)
Adversity
Death
Employment
Family
Parenting
Self-Reliance
Single-Parent Families
Temples
Women in the Church
Balancing Life’s Expectations
Summary: The speaker's family took responsibility for caring for a piece of farmland that initially seemed overwhelming. After working hard by hand, they were surprised when friends arrived with machines that cleared in minutes what had taken days, teaching the speaker to accept help from others.
Our family has been lucky enough to have the opportunity to care for a piece of farm land. When we first took a look at this place, I thought to myself, “There is no way we can do this, it’s too big, too much work.” It seemed like a long road ahead and I was super hesitant to commit to it. I mean it’s not like I don’t got stuff to do. However, this has always been something that we’ve wanted to do as parents (I would say family but I don’t think my kids would say that this is something they wanted to do). We talked about it and made a commitment. When we first started it was just our family. We began pulling weeds and clearing the area the best we could. It was hard, back breaking work and it seemed even though we were making progress that it would take a significant time to get to a point that we could start to plant something. Our friend who asked us to help care for the land told us he’d be by soon to help, and we were like, “no worries we got it, when you have time, no rush.” We don’t like to burden others. Maybe it’s a pride thing. We would go a few times a week to work on clearing the area. Our kids were a great help. It helped to speed up the process. One day my husband told me that our friends would come to help the next time we went up. I felt bad that they would spend their free time working in the hot sun pulling weeds and moving dirt. The day came and not only did our friends come, they brought machines that would help to clear the land quicker. As we watched the machines work my kids and I laughed at how easily the machines cleared the area. An area that took us days to clean was cleared in minutes. We wondered what the heck we were thinking by cleaning it by hand and why hadn’t we done this from the start. We were so grateful for the effort and time that was given to help. The task to care for that piece of land seemed more achievable after that. I’m so grateful for the help we received, it has made our time working at the farm more enjoyable.
I don’t like to depend on others, mostly because I don’t want to burden them. I know they are busy too!! Asking for help is not something I am good at. I rather tell my husband do it!! It has taken me some time to learn how to ask for and accept the help of others.
I don’t like to depend on others, mostly because I don’t want to burden them. I know they are busy too!! Asking for help is not something I am good at. I rather tell my husband do it!! It has taken me some time to learn how to ask for and accept the help of others.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Friends
Making a Mighty Change
Summary: As a child eagerly preparing for baptism, the speaker felt joy and vowed never to sin. After saying a 'naughty' word in frustration, his mother scrubbed his mouth with soap, leading him to feel deep sadness for offending his family and Heavenly Father and to learn the lesson that wrongdoing disrupts peace of conscience.
When we reach this milestone in our spiritual progression, some wonderful blessings and consequences will follow. Most importantly, we will experience the joy and peace of conscience that come as a result of worthiness. The earliest memory I have of the relationship between keeping God’s standards and experiencing happiness is associated with my own baptism. I recall the anticipation I felt as I awaited my eighth birthday and how sincerely I tried to exercise faith in Christ and repent of any wrongdoing. When the memorable day came, the ordinances themselves were most impressive. I vividly remember the warm water enveloping me and the equally warm spiritual feeling I later had as I was confirmed and received the gift of the Holy Ghost. The joyous feeling of being clean and close to God meant so much to me that I vowed I would never sin again. Unfortunately, my youthful good intentions failed a few days later when I responded in frustration to my older brother’s teasing by uttering what my parents had warned me was a “naughty” word. Much to my dismay, my ever-vigilant mother overheard me and came dashing out of the house with fire in her eyes! She marched me down a path to our dairy barn where my father kept a basin of water and a bar of soap. Pushing my head toward the basin, she began vigorously scrubbing my mouth out with soap, all the while impressing upon me her desire that I “never use such words again!”
Although it has been more than 50 years since that humiliating moment, I still remember perfectly the deep sadness I felt because I had offended my brother, my mother, and, most serious of all, my Heavenly Father. I learned then a lesson that the First Presidency has taught and which has been reconfirmed many times in my life: We cannot do wrong and feel right (see For the Strength of Youth, 4).
Although it has been more than 50 years since that humiliating moment, I still remember perfectly the deep sadness I felt because I had offended my brother, my mother, and, most serious of all, my Heavenly Father. I learned then a lesson that the First Presidency has taught and which has been reconfirmed many times in my life: We cannot do wrong and feel right (see For the Strength of Youth, 4).
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
Baptism
Children
Holy Ghost
Light of Christ
Obedience
Parenting
Peace
Repentance
Sin
The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
Summary: A missionary speaking in Hyde Park, London, was interrupted by a heckler who quoted John 4:24: “God is a Spirit.” He replied by reading the full verse and explaining that being a spirit does not deny having a body, since humans are dual beings of spirit and body. He then bore testimony of his reverence for Heavenly Father and of God’s power, love, and concern for His children.
I remember the occasion of more than fifty years ago when, as a missionary, I was speaking in an open-air meeting in Hyde Park, London. As I was presenting my message, a heckler interrupted to say, “Why don’t you stay with the doctrine of the Bible which says in John (4:24), ‘God is a Spirit’?”
I opened my Bible to the verse he had quoted and read to him the entire verse:
“God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.”
I said, “Of course God is a spirit, and so are you, in the combination of spirit and body that makes of you a living being, and so am I.”
Each of us is a dual being of spiritual entity and physical entity. All know of the reality of death when the body dies, and each of us also knows that the spirit lives on as an individual entity and that at some time, under the divine plan made possible by the sacrifice of the Son of God, there will be a reunion of spirit and body. Jesus’ declaration that God is a spirit no more denies that he has a body than does the statement that I am a spirit while also having a body.
I do not equate my body with His in its refinement, in its capacity, in its beauty and radiance. His is eternal. Mine is mortal. But that only increases my reverence for Him. I worship Him “in spirit and in truth.” I look to Him as my strength. I pray to Him for wisdom beyond my own. I seek to love Him with all my heart, might, mind, and strength. His wisdom is greater than the wisdom of all men. His power is greater than the power of nature, for He is the Creator Omnipotent. His love is greater than the love of any other, for His love encompasses all of His children, and it is His work and His glory to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of His sons and daughters of all generations (see Moses 1:39).
He “so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).
This is the Almighty of whom I stand in awe and reverence. It is He to whom I look in fear and trembling. It is He whom I worship and unto whom I give honor and praise and glory. He is my Heavenly Father, who has invited me to come unto Him in prayer, to speak with Him, with the promised assurance that He will hear and respond.
I opened my Bible to the verse he had quoted and read to him the entire verse:
“God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.”
I said, “Of course God is a spirit, and so are you, in the combination of spirit and body that makes of you a living being, and so am I.”
Each of us is a dual being of spiritual entity and physical entity. All know of the reality of death when the body dies, and each of us also knows that the spirit lives on as an individual entity and that at some time, under the divine plan made possible by the sacrifice of the Son of God, there will be a reunion of spirit and body. Jesus’ declaration that God is a spirit no more denies that he has a body than does the statement that I am a spirit while also having a body.
I do not equate my body with His in its refinement, in its capacity, in its beauty and radiance. His is eternal. Mine is mortal. But that only increases my reverence for Him. I worship Him “in spirit and in truth.” I look to Him as my strength. I pray to Him for wisdom beyond my own. I seek to love Him with all my heart, might, mind, and strength. His wisdom is greater than the wisdom of all men. His power is greater than the power of nature, for He is the Creator Omnipotent. His love is greater than the love of any other, for His love encompasses all of His children, and it is His work and His glory to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of His sons and daughters of all generations (see Moses 1:39).
He “so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).
This is the Almighty of whom I stand in awe and reverence. It is He to whom I look in fear and trembling. It is He whom I worship and unto whom I give honor and praise and glory. He is my Heavenly Father, who has invited me to come unto Him in prayer, to speak with Him, with the promised assurance that He will hear and respond.
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👤 Missionaries
👤 Other
Bible
Missionary Work
Tithing Brings Conversion
Summary: A mother initially resists her daughter's decision to pay tithing after joining the Church and refuses to join herself because of the financial burden. Over time she feels a desire to pay tithing, asks the branch president for a slip, and donates 10 percent as a nonmember, which brings her immediate joy and peace. She looks forward to baptism so she can pay a full tithe and later testifies of both temporal and spiritual blessings from tithing.
The issue of paying tithing came up in our family when our daughter joined the Church. At the time, neither my husband nor I were members. She was earning her own money, but because she lived with my husband and me, we all shared our earnings. I could not imagine how we would manage without the 10 percent of her income that she decided to pay in tithing, but I gradually became accustomed to my daughter’s decision. Whenever she brought her paycheck home, my first question was, “Have you set aside your tithing?”
Eventually I became interested in learning about the gospel, but I decided not to join the Church because I would have to pay tithing. Two tithing payments from one family budget were just too much!
After attending church for more than a year, I began to feel dissatisfied and uneasy. As I pondered and prayed, I realized that I wanted to pay tithing. I was surprised at my desire, given my previous opposition.
The following Sunday, I asked the branch president for a tithing slip. I was disappointed to hear that until I was a member, I could not pay tithing. I could, however, make a donation. And so I donated 10 percent of my income to the Lord’s Church. Immediately I felt comfort, joy, and satisfaction. I could hardly wait for the day of my baptism so I could pay a real tithe.
I know that the temporal blessings we enjoy in our family come from paying tithing. But the greatest blessings are the incomparable feelings we have when we obey our Heavenly Father: satisfaction from being obedient, confidence that our Heavenly Father will not abandon us, and feelings of peace and happiness.
Eventually I became interested in learning about the gospel, but I decided not to join the Church because I would have to pay tithing. Two tithing payments from one family budget were just too much!
After attending church for more than a year, I began to feel dissatisfied and uneasy. As I pondered and prayed, I realized that I wanted to pay tithing. I was surprised at my desire, given my previous opposition.
The following Sunday, I asked the branch president for a tithing slip. I was disappointed to hear that until I was a member, I could not pay tithing. I could, however, make a donation. And so I donated 10 percent of my income to the Lord’s Church. Immediately I felt comfort, joy, and satisfaction. I could hardly wait for the day of my baptism so I could pay a real tithe.
I know that the temporal blessings we enjoy in our family come from paying tithing. But the greatest blessings are the incomparable feelings we have when we obey our Heavenly Father: satisfaction from being obedient, confidence that our Heavenly Father will not abandon us, and feelings of peace and happiness.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Church Members (General)
Baptism
Conversion
Family
Happiness
Obedience
Peace
Prayer
Tithing
Story of a Nigerian Member
Summary: On November 21, 1978, nineteen people were baptized by visiting elders. The Aboh Branch was organized with the author as president and family members called to leadership, with reassurance of their worthiness. The new branch presidency sent a grateful letter to the First Presidency expressing joy and faith in the Church’s growth in Nigeria.
Nineteen members were baptized on the above date by Elders Rendell N. Mabey, Edwin Q. Cannon, Jr., and A. Bruce Knudsen. The Aboh Branch was organized, with Anthony Obinna as president, his brothers Francis and Raymond as his counselors, and his wife Fidelia as Relief Society president. When President Obinna expressed concern about the propriety of having his own family in these offices, Elder Mabey assured him that they had been chosen for their worthiness, not for their kinship. The new branch presidency promptly reported the event in a jubilant letter to the First Presidency:
“Dear Brethren,
“All the members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in this part of Nigeria have the pleasure to thank you and the Latter-day Saints throughout the world for opening the door for the Gospel to come to our people in its fullness.
“We are happy for the many hours in the Upper Room of the Temple you spent praying to the Lord to bring us into the fold. We thank our Heavenly Father for hearing your prayers and ours and by revelation. He has confirmed the long promised day, and has granted the holy priesthood to us, with the power to exercise its divine authority and enjoy every blessing of the temple.
“There is no doubt that the Church here will grow and become a mighty center for the Saints and bring progress enough to the people of Nigeria as it is doing all over the world.”
“Dear Brethren,
“All the members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in this part of Nigeria have the pleasure to thank you and the Latter-day Saints throughout the world for opening the door for the Gospel to come to our people in its fullness.
“We are happy for the many hours in the Upper Room of the Temple you spent praying to the Lord to bring us into the fold. We thank our Heavenly Father for hearing your prayers and ours and by revelation. He has confirmed the long promised day, and has granted the holy priesthood to us, with the power to exercise its divine authority and enjoy every blessing of the temple.
“There is no doubt that the Church here will grow and become a mighty center for the Saints and bring progress enough to the people of Nigeria as it is doing all over the world.”
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👤 Other
👤 Missionaries
👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Church Members (General)
Baptism
Conversion
Diversity and Unity in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
Family
Gratitude
Missionary Work
Prayer
Priesthood
Relief Society
Revelation
Temples
Becoming the Lord's Hands
Summary: After moving to China to teach English, Brady and Erika felt isolated, unable to speak the language or manage daily needs. They prayed for help, and an Australian woman and her daughters unexpectedly visited, taught them how to navigate life there, and became immediate friends before moving away. Strengthened by that kindness, Brady and Erika later helped another arriving couple in turn.
Another example
Upon graduation from BYU-Idaho, my son Brady and his wife Erika decided to go to China and teach English for six months until they could begin their masters programs in Colorado. Upon arrival in China, they were met by their Chinese sponsor who took them out to dinner, then to their apartment where they were left on their own. School wouldn't be starting for another two weeks so they had a lot of free time. Their sponsor said if they needed anything, she would be happy to show them. However, they didn't want to be a nuisance nor did they know what they needed, so they remained at home.
The first several days were very lonely because they couldn't speak the language which hindered them getting around to do some sightseeing. They had a difficult time buying groceries because they couldn't read the labels, and the food they did have, they didn't know how to cook. The help they received from the Chinese teachers seemed like just enough to get by. Needless to say, they were feeling pretty alone and isolated. They began to wonder what in the world they were doing there. They also began praying that the Lord would help them and bless them to know what to do.
One day, a knock came on their door. It was a woman from Australian and her two daughters who had previously taught at the Chinese school. The family had heard that Brady and Erika had just moved in and felt impressed that they should come by to introduce themselves and give them an introduction to living in China from a foreigner's perspective. The daughters were so happy and willing to teach them how to get around and what to do. It was somewhat of an instant friendship. Was it a chance meeting or a coincidence? They didn't think so and neither do I. You see, Brady served his mission in Australia and so there was somewhat of an immediate link with them. This family helped them to be able to get out and use the transportation system, find their way around, shop (even finding a Wal-Mart), and find food to eat and actually figure out how to cook it. They were soon ready to begin the school semester. The most interesting part of it all was that the Australian family was preparing to move to a different area and only remained in town a couple more days. They didn't need to come over and introduce themselves but something led them to do so. It was just a short time after this that another couple arrived from Canada. Brady and Erika were able to pass on their knowledge and befriend this couple. If you ask them, they will tell you that they truly felt the Lord's hand reach down into their lives and bless them as a direct answer to their prayers. In return, they knew they were to be His hands in helping someone else.
Upon graduation from BYU-Idaho, my son Brady and his wife Erika decided to go to China and teach English for six months until they could begin their masters programs in Colorado. Upon arrival in China, they were met by their Chinese sponsor who took them out to dinner, then to their apartment where they were left on their own. School wouldn't be starting for another two weeks so they had a lot of free time. Their sponsor said if they needed anything, she would be happy to show them. However, they didn't want to be a nuisance nor did they know what they needed, so they remained at home.
The first several days were very lonely because they couldn't speak the language which hindered them getting around to do some sightseeing. They had a difficult time buying groceries because they couldn't read the labels, and the food they did have, they didn't know how to cook. The help they received from the Chinese teachers seemed like just enough to get by. Needless to say, they were feeling pretty alone and isolated. They began to wonder what in the world they were doing there. They also began praying that the Lord would help them and bless them to know what to do.
One day, a knock came on their door. It was a woman from Australian and her two daughters who had previously taught at the Chinese school. The family had heard that Brady and Erika had just moved in and felt impressed that they should come by to introduce themselves and give them an introduction to living in China from a foreigner's perspective. The daughters were so happy and willing to teach them how to get around and what to do. It was somewhat of an instant friendship. Was it a chance meeting or a coincidence? They didn't think so and neither do I. You see, Brady served his mission in Australia and so there was somewhat of an immediate link with them. This family helped them to be able to get out and use the transportation system, find their way around, shop (even finding a Wal-Mart), and find food to eat and actually figure out how to cook it. They were soon ready to begin the school semester. The most interesting part of it all was that the Australian family was preparing to move to a different area and only remained in town a couple more days. They didn't need to come over and introduce themselves but something led them to do so. It was just a short time after this that another couple arrived from Canada. Brady and Erika were able to pass on their knowledge and befriend this couple. If you ask them, they will tell you that they truly felt the Lord's hand reach down into their lives and bless them as a direct answer to their prayers. In return, they knew they were to be His hands in helping someone else.
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👤 Young Adults
👤 Friends
👤 Other
A Disciple's Faith
Summary: When Arben Vogli joined the Church, almost nothing had been translated into Albanian. Determined to read the Book of Mormon anyway, he obtained an English copy and painstakingly translated it word by word with a dictionary. Over time he gained a testimony of the book and even learned to understand and speak English.
May I conclude by telling you of two people who I feel have become true disciples of Christ–one an Albanian member and the other a missionary:
Brother Arben Vogli is a young man with a pure heart and a great testimony. He gained his testimony through his extraordinary study of the Book of Mormon. When he joined the church in the early 1990's, there were few things translated in the Albanian language, but the Spirit bore witness to him that what the missionaries were teaching him from the Book of Mormon was true. He had such a great desire to read the Book of Mormon that he begged the missionaries to give him a copy, even if it were in English, so that he could study it. Arben spoke no English, but when he received the book he obtained an Albanian/English Dictionary and set out to read the book on his own. Imagine starting with the first word “I” and looking it up; then the next word “Nephi” and not finding it and then finally figuring it out that it was “I’s” name. And then looking up “having” and not finding it. . . But word by word he proceeded, writing the translated words in Albanian above English text.
When do you get tired of that and quit? A true disciple doesn’t and neither did Arben. It took months to get through 1st and 2nd Nephi, but by then he knew many of the words and it started to go a little faster. By the mid point of the book, he was able to understand much of what he was reading and when he finished the book, not only did he have a testimony of it, but he could speak English–not necessarily the King’s English–in fact, it was a Book of Mormon English, but nonetheless he could speak and understand English. Arben is a sculptor. I submit that with his faith and his testimony, he is disciple of Christ whose trip to the temple to be sealed to his family was like a trip to heaven for him.
Brother Arben Vogli is a young man with a pure heart and a great testimony. He gained his testimony through his extraordinary study of the Book of Mormon. When he joined the church in the early 1990's, there were few things translated in the Albanian language, but the Spirit bore witness to him that what the missionaries were teaching him from the Book of Mormon was true. He had such a great desire to read the Book of Mormon that he begged the missionaries to give him a copy, even if it were in English, so that he could study it. Arben spoke no English, but when he received the book he obtained an Albanian/English Dictionary and set out to read the book on his own. Imagine starting with the first word “I” and looking it up; then the next word “Nephi” and not finding it and then finally figuring it out that it was “I’s” name. And then looking up “having” and not finding it. . . But word by word he proceeded, writing the translated words in Albanian above English text.
When do you get tired of that and quit? A true disciple doesn’t and neither did Arben. It took months to get through 1st and 2nd Nephi, but by then he knew many of the words and it started to go a little faster. By the mid point of the book, he was able to understand much of what he was reading and when he finished the book, not only did he have a testimony of it, but he could speak English–not necessarily the King’s English–in fact, it was a Book of Mormon English, but nonetheless he could speak and understand English. Arben is a sculptor. I submit that with his faith and his testimony, he is disciple of Christ whose trip to the temple to be sealed to his family was like a trip to heaven for him.
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👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Missionaries
👤 Young Adults
Harley-Davidson
Summary: The narrator drives to his brother Gus’s gas station to open his mission call together. Gus, rough around the edges and trying to hide habits, is unexpectedly nervous and excited for his brother. After learning the call is within the United States, the brothers share an emotional moment before the narrator goes home to tell their parents, who encourage him about Gus. The scene reveals Gus’s affection and support despite his struggles.
The day I received my mission call, I drove up to Gus’s gas station. I saw him standing by the cash register counting a wad of money. He scratched his beard and pulled back his long hair as he puffed a cigarette. He looked perturbed, as if he hadn’t made quite enough cash that day. I read his lips as he recounted the money and watched his mouth form numbers and then a four-letter word.
When the wheels of the Martian Mobile (my olive green, ’64 Ford Falcon) rolled over a black hose by the gas pumps, the customer bell rang. It startled poor Gus and caused him to swear again. He jumped when he realized it was me, spit the cigarette out, stamped on it, and crammed the money into the cash register. The entire reaction spanned a time lapse of two seconds.
I watched in amazement. I wasn’t supposed to know he smoked, swore, or worshipped money. What? Did he think I was born yesterday?
He walked out of the station office with his hands reaching into his pockets. He pulled out a tiny can of breath spray and sprayed it into his mouth.
“Hi Paul!” he greeted smiling innocently.
“Okay, ten bucks regular.” I pretended to be gruff. “And make it quick.”
His response came in the character of a southern hillbilly.
“We ain’t serving yer kind here, mister. Only transients, hippies, motorcycle gangs—if they ride Harley-Davidsons, that is—and other general public nuisances.”
I watched as he pumped 12 dollars worth of gasoline into my dilapidated car.
I handed him a ten and two one-dollar bills. He kept the ten and tossed the ones into my back seat. From the time I had started talking about a mission, he’d been giving me two extra dollars worth each time I got gas.
“I sho ’nuff ’preciate it,” he drawled, “but I ain’t receivin’ no charitee’ from some short-haired, prospective missionaree.”
I raised my eyebrow, then asked, “Even if that ‘missionaree’ received his call today?”
I held up the unopened envelope. It had just arrived in the mail from Church headquarters, and I had rushed over to tell Gus.
“You got it?” he squealed, forgetting the drawl. Then embarrassed by his own excitement, he calmly added, “So where are you going, Paul?”
“I haven’t opened it yet. That’s why I came.”
“Well hurry up!” he insisted.
We sat in two greasy chairs in the gas station’s office. He was honestly more anxious and nervous than I was. I patiently held the envelope up to the light, then obnoxiously passed it from hand to hand.
“Are you ready, Gus?” I teased.
“Just open the thing!” he snapped.
He reached for the drawer where he kept his cigarettes, but remembering I didn’t know he smoked, sat on his trembling hands. He crossed his legs, and the dangling foot began dancing anxiously.
My missionary papers had been submitted a month before. I thought Gus was going to have a nervous breakdown as we had waited out the month to see where I’d be going.
Gus’s mysterious excitement about my mission call was something else I wasn’t supposed to know about. One day I had overheard him yelling at the poor mailman about how slow the U.S. mail system was.
He’d lock up his gas station and come home every day at noon, when the mail came, to see if it had arrived yet. I really couldn’t understand why he cared so much.
I opened the envelope and slowly began reading. I stopped cold when I read the place.
“I’m staying in the States!”
“Well, at least it ain’t one of those Communist countries,” he sighed, speaking with the drawl again. “Ya won’t be thrown in jail or come back with some weird disease.”
“You are so strange,” I told him.
He just looked at me for a moment. He took a big breath, uncrossed his legs, settled his nervous feet on the floor, grasped the arms of the chair with his trembling hands, and spoke seriously, no drawl, his voice shaking a little.
“So you’re staying in the good old U.S. of A? Well that’s neat, little brother, that’s really neat.”
He stood and put forth his greasy, dirty hand. I went to shake it, then hesitated when I realized how grimy it was.
“Oh shake it, ya pansy,” he barked. “Don’t ya know missionaries have to shake hands all day?”
I hugged him. I just reached right up and put my arms around his thick neck and hugged him. I didn’t worry that his greasy overalls would stain my clean shirt. I was holding back tears, and I knew he was too.
“I’m gonna miss ya, Gus.”
He didn’t say anything.
Right then a beautiful blonde in a Corvette convertible drove over the black hose, and the customer bell rang again. He pushed me away. Macho men don’t hug their little brothers. When the girl asked who I was, Gus was embarrassed. I had to chuckle. He’s never been as tough as he thinks he is.
I left him romancing his customer. His charisma is what had made his gas station the “hang out” for most of the gorgeous blondes in town. He does indeed charm the ladies. I hope I have some of it when I’m ready to look for a wife.
I went straight home to tell my parents. They were pleased I had shared the experience first with Gus.
“You’ll reach him yet,” my Dad told me, and that made me feel really good.
When the wheels of the Martian Mobile (my olive green, ’64 Ford Falcon) rolled over a black hose by the gas pumps, the customer bell rang. It startled poor Gus and caused him to swear again. He jumped when he realized it was me, spit the cigarette out, stamped on it, and crammed the money into the cash register. The entire reaction spanned a time lapse of two seconds.
I watched in amazement. I wasn’t supposed to know he smoked, swore, or worshipped money. What? Did he think I was born yesterday?
He walked out of the station office with his hands reaching into his pockets. He pulled out a tiny can of breath spray and sprayed it into his mouth.
“Hi Paul!” he greeted smiling innocently.
“Okay, ten bucks regular.” I pretended to be gruff. “And make it quick.”
His response came in the character of a southern hillbilly.
“We ain’t serving yer kind here, mister. Only transients, hippies, motorcycle gangs—if they ride Harley-Davidsons, that is—and other general public nuisances.”
I watched as he pumped 12 dollars worth of gasoline into my dilapidated car.
I handed him a ten and two one-dollar bills. He kept the ten and tossed the ones into my back seat. From the time I had started talking about a mission, he’d been giving me two extra dollars worth each time I got gas.
“I sho ’nuff ’preciate it,” he drawled, “but I ain’t receivin’ no charitee’ from some short-haired, prospective missionaree.”
I raised my eyebrow, then asked, “Even if that ‘missionaree’ received his call today?”
I held up the unopened envelope. It had just arrived in the mail from Church headquarters, and I had rushed over to tell Gus.
“You got it?” he squealed, forgetting the drawl. Then embarrassed by his own excitement, he calmly added, “So where are you going, Paul?”
“I haven’t opened it yet. That’s why I came.”
“Well hurry up!” he insisted.
We sat in two greasy chairs in the gas station’s office. He was honestly more anxious and nervous than I was. I patiently held the envelope up to the light, then obnoxiously passed it from hand to hand.
“Are you ready, Gus?” I teased.
“Just open the thing!” he snapped.
He reached for the drawer where he kept his cigarettes, but remembering I didn’t know he smoked, sat on his trembling hands. He crossed his legs, and the dangling foot began dancing anxiously.
My missionary papers had been submitted a month before. I thought Gus was going to have a nervous breakdown as we had waited out the month to see where I’d be going.
Gus’s mysterious excitement about my mission call was something else I wasn’t supposed to know about. One day I had overheard him yelling at the poor mailman about how slow the U.S. mail system was.
He’d lock up his gas station and come home every day at noon, when the mail came, to see if it had arrived yet. I really couldn’t understand why he cared so much.
I opened the envelope and slowly began reading. I stopped cold when I read the place.
“I’m staying in the States!”
“Well, at least it ain’t one of those Communist countries,” he sighed, speaking with the drawl again. “Ya won’t be thrown in jail or come back with some weird disease.”
“You are so strange,” I told him.
He just looked at me for a moment. He took a big breath, uncrossed his legs, settled his nervous feet on the floor, grasped the arms of the chair with his trembling hands, and spoke seriously, no drawl, his voice shaking a little.
“So you’re staying in the good old U.S. of A? Well that’s neat, little brother, that’s really neat.”
He stood and put forth his greasy, dirty hand. I went to shake it, then hesitated when I realized how grimy it was.
“Oh shake it, ya pansy,” he barked. “Don’t ya know missionaries have to shake hands all day?”
I hugged him. I just reached right up and put my arms around his thick neck and hugged him. I didn’t worry that his greasy overalls would stain my clean shirt. I was holding back tears, and I knew he was too.
“I’m gonna miss ya, Gus.”
He didn’t say anything.
Right then a beautiful blonde in a Corvette convertible drove over the black hose, and the customer bell rang again. He pushed me away. Macho men don’t hug their little brothers. When the girl asked who I was, Gus was embarrassed. I had to chuckle. He’s never been as tough as he thinks he is.
I left him romancing his customer. His charisma is what had made his gas station the “hang out” for most of the gorgeous blondes in town. He does indeed charm the ladies. I hope I have some of it when I’m ready to look for a wife.
I went straight home to tell my parents. They were pleased I had shared the experience first with Gus.
“You’ll reach him yet,” my Dad told me, and that made me feel really good.
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👤 Missionaries
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Parents
Friendship
Kindness
Missionary Work
Service
Young Men
Priesthood Power Available to All
Summary: As a young single adult facing a difficult decision, the narrator asked her father for a priesthood blessing. Instead of giving it immediately, he asked for time to spiritually prepare. Decades later, she remembers his reverence and commitment to D&C 121 principles more than the words of the blessing itself.
The words persuasion, meekness, long-suffering, kindness, gentleness, and love unfeigned took on a new and very personal meaning to me as I remembered a blessing I requested of my father years ago.
When I was a young single adult, I was struggling with a difficult decision. As I had done on several occasions, I approached my dad and requested a father’s blessing. Expecting him to immediately act on my request, I was surprised when he responded by saying, “I’ll need some time to prepare to give you this blessing. How would you feel about waiting a couple of days?”
Interestingly, 40 years later, I have forgotten what he said in that father’s blessing, but I’ll never forget the profound reverence my dad had for the holy priesthood as he prepared himself spiritually to pronounce a father’s blessing upon my head. He understood the principles taught in Doctrine and Covenants 121 and was determined to live them in order to qualify for priesthood power to bless his family. His example of meekness, long-suffering, kindness, gentleness, and love unfeigned continue to bless my life.
When I was a young single adult, I was struggling with a difficult decision. As I had done on several occasions, I approached my dad and requested a father’s blessing. Expecting him to immediately act on my request, I was surprised when he responded by saying, “I’ll need some time to prepare to give you this blessing. How would you feel about waiting a couple of days?”
Interestingly, 40 years later, I have forgotten what he said in that father’s blessing, but I’ll never forget the profound reverence my dad had for the holy priesthood as he prepared himself spiritually to pronounce a father’s blessing upon my head. He understood the principles taught in Doctrine and Covenants 121 and was determined to live them in order to qualify for priesthood power to bless his family. His example of meekness, long-suffering, kindness, gentleness, and love unfeigned continue to bless my life.
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👤 Parents
👤 Young Adults
Family
Humility
Kindness
Love
Parenting
Patience
Priesthood
Priesthood Blessing
Reverence
Scriptures
It Wasn’t a Sacrifice
Summary: Having long dreamed of studying in England, the author postponed her plans for a Relief Society calling. During that year, she felt prompted to apply for a Church Translation Department position and was hired as a Chinese language supervisor. She recognizes the job as a great blessing that came because she sacrificed her original dream.
Sometimes what we must give up is not a possession but a cherished dream. Growing up in Taiwan, I had always dreamed of going to school in England. After receiving a university degree and studying in the United States, I returned home and made arrangements to continue my studies in England. At this same time I received a calling in the Relief Society. At first I planned to accept the calling for a short time—just until I left for England. Then after much consideration, I decided to postpone my studies abroad for a year.
It was during this year when I was “sacrificing” my studies in England that an amazing blessing came into my life. One day as I was walking by a bulletin board at church, I saw a notice that the Church’s Translation Department was seeking to hire a Chinese language supervisor. I felt the Holy Ghost prod me to apply, but I hesitated. The year was almost up, and it was time for me to go to England. But the Spirit encouraged me, and I applied and was hired. For me, working as a language supervisor for the Church is not just a job. It is a great privilege and blessing. But I could never have received this blessing if I had not been willing to give up my dream of studying in England.
It was during this year when I was “sacrificing” my studies in England that an amazing blessing came into my life. One day as I was walking by a bulletin board at church, I saw a notice that the Church’s Translation Department was seeking to hire a Chinese language supervisor. I felt the Holy Ghost prod me to apply, but I hesitated. The year was almost up, and it was time for me to go to England. But the Spirit encouraged me, and I applied and was hired. For me, working as a language supervisor for the Church is not just a job. It is a great privilege and blessing. But I could never have received this blessing if I had not been willing to give up my dream of studying in England.
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👤 Young Adults
👤 Church Members (General)
Education
Employment
Faith
Holy Ghost
Obedience
Relief Society
Revelation
Sacrifice