Gospel Story Finder

Ever since Jenna was a tiny girl, her family could see that she spoke a language all her own. Whenever she described something that happened, she couldn’t help moving her body with each sentence, making the words seem bigger and brighter as they took on an energy unique to Jenna. Her movements were graceful and dramatic. No one was surprised when she started dance classes with her best friend Lisa and came home talking as if she had found heaven.
“I love to dance, Mom. I love it more than chocolate ice cream and more than the best birthday surprise!” Jenna declared.
“I knew you were a dancer at heart,” Mom said as Jenna spun around and threw her arms around her mother’s waist, swaying as they hugged and laughed.
Jenna and Lisa worked hard in dance class. They never missed a session, and they stayed after class as long as possible to work on new moves and perfect their technique, watching themselves in the mirrors that covered the walls of the studio. Their teacher was very impressed.
“I don’t do this very often, girls,” she said to them after class one day. “But I think you two could perform one of the advanced-class dance numbers we’ll be doing for the Christmas Showcase.”
Jenna and Lisa thanked their teacher and smiled with delight. When they were outside in the parking lot, they began cheering, hugging, and jumping up and down.
“We did it, Lisa! I can’t believe this! We did it, we did it!” Jenna shouted.
Lisa’s mom rolled down the car window. “What’s up, you two?”
“Mom, you aren’t going to believe this! Our teacher just said we get to perform one of the advanced dances for the Christmas Showcase!” Lisa was beaming as she and Jenna leaped into the car.
“Well, I’m not a bit surprised. I know you two will be wonderful,” Lisa’s mom said. “You’ve been working so hard.”
And they kept working hard. Jenna and Lisa found every possible opportunity to practice and perfect each leap and every twist of the head down to the exact timing until even the top dance students in their class were impressed.
“How are you feeling about the dance performance?” Jenna’s mom asked one day as they got in the car after class.
“Fabulous,” Lisa said, grinning.
“Couldn’t be better,” chimed in Jenna. But after they dropped Lisa off at her house Jenna grew quiet.
“What’s the matter?” Mom asked.
“I don’t know, Mom. I don’t want to seem like a goody-goody, but …”
“What is it, honey?” Mom encouraged.
“Well, we got the costumes today that we’ll be wearing for the advanced dance number, and they’re not very modest. Then when we rehearsed the dance in the costumes, I realized that the moves, the music, and now the costumes are not something I would want you and Dad or my little brothers and sister to see. I sure couldn’t perform the dance if someone like the prophet were there watching.”
As the words came out, Jenna’s eyes filled with tears. She had always been taught to listen to the feelings in her heart, and this choice would not be an easy one. “What will Lisa think of me? What can I say to our dance teacher?” she wondered.
“I’m so glad you want to do what is right,” Mom said. “Heavenly Father will help you know how.”
That night before bed, Jenna prayed that Heavenly Father would give her the courage to stand up for what she knew was right. She also prayed that she would know the right words to use.
During school lunch the next day she asked Lisa if they could talk. They went to a quiet place and sat on a bench.
“Lisa, I don’t know how to say this, but … ” Jenna’s voice was shaky and she was looking down at her fingers. “I don’t feel good about performing in the advanced dance number. It’s just too, well, too … ”
She heard a sniff from Lisa and looked up. Lisa’s eyes were red. “I’ve been thinking about how to tell you the same thing,” Lisa said. They hugged and cried a little more, then marched to their classroom with their arms around each other’s shoulders. It was good to have a friend who understood.
It wasn’t easy for Jenna and Lisa to talk to their dance teacher, especially when she said, “We’re dancing the most up-to-date dances from the top dance companies in the nation. If you want to be dancers, this is the kind of thing you have to be willing to do.”
It was even harder when their teacher announced to the class that there would be a change in the advanced dance number. There were sneers from some of the other dancers. But Lisa was right by Jenna’s side. And more importantly, they both felt Heavenly Father’s love and knew they were doing the right thing.

I love playing volleyball. Last summer I went to a volleyball camp with my friend, and we became friends with another girl there. One day at lunch, she brought up the Church, and we were able to share some of our beliefs with her. She seemed interested and wanted to know more. Although camp was only a few days long and we may not see her again, I hope talking with her will lead her to learn more about the Church and the gospel.
Kate K., 15, Utah, USA

Following a recent discussion on the subject of adversity, a young man who was greatly concerned about the burdens being carried by his wonderful mother asked the question, “If God is omnipotent and knows all, why does He put my mother through the agony of continual sufferings when He already knows what the outcome will be?” Our response was, “Your mother’s trials are not tests so the Lord can measure her. They are tests and trials so that your mother can measure herself. It is most important that she know her strengths in adversity and grow from the experiences.”

Hi! My name is Tyrus. My ancestors were pioneers who moved from Wales to Utah. Now my family’s moved to England. We’re pioneers too—but in the other direction!
I like England because it’s really green and it has a smaller carbon footprint. I like to go to the aviation museum and catch crabs at the coast. I like to sit on the top front row of the double-decker bus. It’s bumpy and feels like a roller coaster.
Some kids at school thought my accent sounded funny. They started making fun of me. It got worse and worse. I wanted to quit school.
I told my parents what was happening. My mom thought we should make a slideshow about what it’s like to be an immigrant. I was excited!
The day before the slideshow, some of the bullies scattered my school uniform all over the changing room. One of my socks was in the bin, and my trousers were in the toilet stall. Someone was sitting on my shirt, and someone else was sitting on my other sock. I definitely wanted to quit school. That night my dad gave me a priesthood blessing. I prayed that I would not get discouraged.
At school the next day, I was nervous. Would people like the slideshow? I ran the computer, and my mom told the kids to pretend they had to move far away. They were amazed that I only brought one suitcase, one carry-on, and one box of toys with me when I moved. Some people even said they wanted to visit Utah for Christmas.
After the slideshow, things got a little better. Kids at school know more about me and are trying to be kind. Now I know I can stand up to bullies. But I can do it in a nice way, like by showing a slideshow. Jesus was kind to the people who hurt him. So being kind is how I follow Jesus.

The sun was just appearing above the edge of the mesa as Grandmother arose and began stirring up the banked coals in her cookstove. Hannah reluctantly rolled out of her warm quilts and hurriedly dressed. She knew that Grandmother expected her help. Grandmother was anxious to finish breakfast early this morning so the old fire could be put out before the day’s activities began, for today was the final day of the Wuwuchim ceremony—the Hopi New Year. Grandmother put a shawl over her shoulders, picked up her coal bucket, and stepped out into the cold winter morning. When Hannah ran out to help, the only signs of life she could see in the entire village were an old woman carrying two pails of water up the steep trail from the spring below the mesa and a young boy listlessly chopping wood. In the background she could hear the chanting from the kiva (round ceremonial structure).
For the past several days the mornings had been alive with the sounds of corn being ground, wood being chopped, and women busy with their children. Hannah had spent a full day with Grandmother preparing the blue cornmeal on the grinding stones, gradually making it finer and finer. Another full day had been spent on their knees in the peekee house bending over the hot peekee stone to make the blue cornmeal paper-bread. Then just yesterday Grandfather had brought fresh mutton. Hannah and Grandmother had prepared a stew with it. Water had been carried and wood had been chopped so that everything would be in readiness. Soon now everyone would put out their old fires.
When Hannah and her grandmother stepped back inside the house with the coal, Grandfather was sitting by the dwindling fire weaving a ceremonial sash. Although he had once been a kiva priest, he had not been inside a kiva for two years. Hannah knew he was not making the sash for himself. He would sell it to the trading post at Oraibi. Grandfather never seemed to miss the old ways. He kept asking Grandmother why she bothered to make all the preparations for Wuwuchim. Her reply was always, “Perhaps this year it will be different.”
As soon as breakfast was cleared up and the old fire put out, the family settled back to wait, listening to the chanting from the kivas. The priests had been inside them for days, chanting prayers that the Six-point-cloud People would look with favor on the village during the coming year.
About noontime two lady missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints walked over from their house in the center of the mesa. Hannah knew they had been unable to hold meetings with anyone for two or three days, for everyone had been too busy with their celebration preparations. The sisters had visited them the day they made peekee, and Grandmother had tried to teach them how, but their hands were not toughened and they soon had blisters from the hot stone.
Suddenly the chanting stopped! Runners began emerging from the kiva of the Masuaa (Fire) Clan, bearing torches lighted from the New Fire in the kiva. The new year began with the lighting of the New Fire in all the homes.
Hannah stood expectantly in the doorway with Grandmother, watching the progression of the runners from house to house. The two lady missionaries stood curiously beside them, but Grandfather did not lift his head from his weaving. The runners passed in front of their door. One hesitated a moment as though he wanted to go in, but went on instead to the next house. Tears welled up in Hannah’s eyes. “It isn’t different,” she said bitterly.
It had been this way ever since they had become Momonas (Mormons). When the missionaries first came to the mesas, nobody listened to them except Grandfather, Grandmother, and Hannah. They looked forward to the visits of the missionaries and their stories from the Book of Mormon. From the beginning the family had believed that the Book of Mormon was their book, but the decision to be baptized was not an easy one.
All of the neighbors had criticized them for entertaining the bahawnas (white people). But when they began seriously to think of baptism, the villagers accused them of deserting the Hopi way—a way of life that had served the Peaceful People well for centuries. Men from Grandfather’s kiva came to warn against displeasing the Six-point-cloud People and disrupting the harmony of nature, but he would not give in. He was truly converted to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Without his strength Hannah knew that she and Grandmother might have weakened, but after Grandfather made his decision he never looked back.
Hannah couldn’t help feeling that it had been easier for him than for her and Grandmother. Every morning from planting time on, he rode his burro down off the mesa to his dry farm. He also took his turn herding the village sheep. Always the men of the village treated him with respect. She and Grandmother usually received no such treatment. Each day when they went to the waffle gardens perched on the side of the mesa to water their little plot of chili peppers and beans, they met the women and girls of the village carrying water to their vegetables. The girls giggled and called out, “Momona!” and the women made derisive remarks.
That summer Hannah had not been asked to participate in the butterfly dance with the other girls of her clan. And at the first Wuwuchim after their baptism, the fire runners ignored them and passed by their home.
However, there had been a few changes for the better during the two years since their baptism. Now many people listened to the missionaries and came to Sunday School. The lady missionaries held Primary for the children and many of Hannah’s friends attended. They also had been teaching the women how to make quilts. Although no one else had been baptized, Hannah, like Grandmother, believed that this Wuwuchim would be different. But it isn’t going to be, she decided, and that still hurts.
Dancers were coming now from each of the kivas to dance on the plaza. Hannah and the missionaries walked down to watch. Visitors from other mesas were there, and people who had left the mesas to work had returned to celebrate with their own people. It was a joyous time of reunion, a time to laugh and mingle with friends and relatives.
Gifts of food were exchanged between clans. Women carried baskets heaped with rolls of peekee and white biscuits. Grandmother had left her gifts of food at home on the kitchen table. Everyone in the village would know that their home had been passed by again and that their gifts would not be acceptable. Hannah was sure Grandmother would send the food home with the lady missionaries.
When the dancing was over, everyone went to his own home or the home of a fellow clan member to enjoy the mutton stew, warmed over the New Fire and served with peekee and biscuits. Hannah and her grandparents walked home with their guests to partake of the feast that had been in the making during the past few days.
Going to the stove, Grandmother struck an ordinary kitchen match to light the New Fire. She laughed as she looked at the small flame. “Hannah,” she said, “the kiva fire means no more than this kitchen match I hold in my hand!”
Then Hannah watched as Grandmother put the match to the tinder, the small flame taking hold and growing into a roaring fire. She looked across the table at Grandfather. The two old people had given up many of the habits and practices of a lifetime and willingly chosen a better way. Deep inside, Grandmother’s words glowed again and grew stronger. The kiva fire means no more than the kitchen match!
A new understanding like a spark took hold, and her whole being seemed to burn. I was wrong, she thought. This year is different.
No runner came from the kiva bearing a lighted torch, but a new fire seemed to flame within Hannah, a fire that would light her whole life. The Lord has promised that someday everyone will understand, she thought. What a bright and happy time that will be!

Imagine that your family is moving. To Tonga. Your dad has sold his thriving dental practice. Your family has sold your new home and most of the furniture and will live solely on the proceeds from the sales, without any additional income, for at least six months, while you all help your dad in a dental clinic.
Sound incredible? For Rebecca and David Downey, it was their family’s answer to the question, “How do you move a mountain?” The question came from younger brother Brenton, who followed up with an even greater challenge, “Dad, will you teach me how to move a mountain?” The answer, after much prayer, ultimately led the entire Downey family, along with cousin Nattalie Connell, to a life-changing service project in Nuku‘alofa, Tonga. They may not have moved any mountains, but they moved dozens of suitcases, thousands of toothbrushes, and many, many hearts.
Deseret International, a nonprofit organization, sponsored Brother Downey’s dental service and arranged for him to work in a Church-built clinic and in various other locations in Tonga. Brother Downey purchased some equipment and supplies using his own funds. And thanks to an Eagle Scout project organized by Jonathan Whitworth, a friend of the Downeys, Colorado dentists donated the additional supplies Brother Downey needed. The family arranged to live in a small house near the clinic.
Rebecca (13), David (15), and Nattalie (13) had to adjust to a new language, climate, and culture. At first they missed things from home like snow skiing, nearby grocery stores, and modern conveniences. They particularly missed their friends and family. But the warm welcome they received from the students at Church-owned Liahona Middle and High Schools helped ease their adjustment. Soon they were enjoying their new environment—snorkeling in the ocean, eating bananas and coconuts from their own trees, and taking walks to the nearby temple.
Whenever possible, the teens, along with younger siblings Brenton (7), Jacob (5), and Brianna (11), assisted Brother Downey in the clinic. In the first four months alone, the teens helped him attend to thousands of patients and give away more than 14,000 toothbrushes. The toothbrushes were the first that many recipients had ever owned. Under Brother Downey’s direction, patients received nearly half a million dollars’ worth of fillings, extractions, cleanings, root canals, and other dental work. And the teens helped Brother Downey train volunteers and local nurses to ensure that dental care continued after the family’s return to the United States.
When the Downeys weren’t teaching the people of Tonga how to brush and floss, they were interacting with them in other ways. Nearly every night included a service-oriented activity—from cleaning up roadsides and beaches to singing to children in the hospital. David says he particularly enjoyed Tuesday nights, when the Downeys would have another family over for pizza. “They don’t have pizza in Tonga very often, so it’s a great treat. It’s also a great time to get to know people one on one,” he says.
Because of their service in Tonga, Rebecca, David, and Nattalie had many opportunities to share the gospel. Even before the Downeys left Colorado, people became interested in their journey and, then, the Church. “Our neighbors asked for a Book of Mormon and started to read it. Friends started to take the missionary discussions and asked if they could keep writing their questions about the Church to us by e-mail,” says David.
Rebecca and Nattalie say their own testimonies grew from the experience, as well. Rebecca adds that serving in Tonga helped her realize what was truly of worth. “I have become more humble. The people there were a great example to me. I realize that people are more important than things.” To illustrate, she recounts her family taking some of their used clothing to a family devastated by a typhoon. In gratitude, the Tongan family gave the Downeys a bowl of peanuts that they had salvaged from what was left of their crop after the storm. “That represented about a month’s worth of income for them,” notes Rebecca. “We gave them our leftovers, and they gave us everything they had.”
Now back home in Colorado, the teens are readjusting to a land-locked existence and missing their friends in Tonga. But thanks to their year abroad, they think they might know what it takes to move a mountain: faith, love, and an unquenchable desire to serve. That, and a whole lot of toothbrushes.

I started going to church with some friends in our neighborhood. But then we moved and I stopped going.
In my new school I signed up for seminary. I began reading the scriptures daily. One night it hit me just how much my life needed changing. I had been learning about the gospel, but I hadn’t been living it. I was still hanging out with people who made it difficult to live righteously. I knew I had to get serious about changing my life. The next day I went and talked to Brother Porter, my seminary teacher. He told me when and where my ward met.
The next Sunday I went to church but sat down in the back of the chapel. It took a while to make friends because of my reputation, but I kept going each week because I knew that was where I was supposed to be. For my 15th birthday, my other grandma gave me a gift certificate for a haircut and some new clothes. A few days later I was ordained a teacher.

One of my sons had a difficult time when he was young. He was regularly teased and seemed to feel defeated much of the time. As parents, we also often corrected him. His emotions were regularly close to the surface, and we weren’t able to talk through things with him. As my wife and I made an effort to understand him, we felt like he needed to feel the Spirit more in his life and he needed to know his parents really did care.
I asked him if we could spend time together each night reading from the Book of Mormon. We didn’t focus on how long we read or how much; instead, we simply found something meaningful we could talk about. The goal was not to read the Book of Mormon but rather to help my son feel the love of his heavenly and earthly parents. While not a cure-all, the effort to give him what he needed helped us both. We both felt much brighter and closer to each other and to God. My son started asking questions as we read, and I began to understand him even better.

Dear Journal,
I got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. At least that’s what Mom said, though I’m pretty sure it was the same side as always. I was really grouchy, though, and who could blame me? When I went to get my new sweater, I couldn’t find it anyplace. I asked Mom where it was, but she said that keeping track of my clothes was my responsibility and that she didn’t have time to help me search. I stomped back to my room as loudly as I could and slammed the door.
I found my sweater on the floor of the closet. I put it on and slouched down to the kitchen, where Mom was feeding Annie her baby food. Mom asked me to help Charlie put on his shoes, and that made me even grumpier. Charlie’s in kindergarten—why can’t he put on his own shoes? I was about to say something unkind until I looked at Mom’s face. I could see that she was having a tough morning, too, so I helped Charlie, but I wasn’t happy about it. As if all this weren’t enough, I had to walk to school by myself—my best friend had already left without me.
I came home from school that afternoon with a ton of homework. I was just getting started on it, when Mom asked me to watch Annie while she took Mr. Stanley his dinner. She takes dinner to him once a week because he’s in a wheelchair and it’s hard for him to cook. I told Mom that he could buy a frozen dinner and pop it in the microwave, but she just shook her head and headed out the door.
As she left, I noticed that she had a happy look on her face. It reminded me of the picture of Jesus in our living room. Why was she so happy? It was then that I realized that Mom was following President Hunter’s counsel. I decided that if helping someone she hardly knew made her feel so good, maybe it wouldn’t hurt me to try being nicer to my own sister. So I put on my best fake smile and started playing with Annie. By the time Mom returned to give me a kiss and a thank-you, my smile wasn’t as fake, and my day didn’t seem quite so bad.

Another young woman decided that one of the stakes in her life was to observe the Sabbath, regardless of her circumstances. One year after she was baptized a member of the Church with her family, her ward was divided. Her family was assigned to the newly formed ward, and she was the only young woman in the new ward. Her parents resisted the change and stopped attending church, but she wanted to follow the guidelines in For the Strength of Youth on “Sabbath Day Observance.” She decided to go to church in the new ward whenever she could, even though it meant attending all of her meetings alone.

On Sundays she read her scriptures and worked on Personal Progress. Her decision to be “steadfast and immovable” in observing the Sabbath encouraged her mother and younger sister to begin attending church again. Her mother testified that her daughter’s steadfast example of living the gospel and her goodness helped them return to activity.

One woman recalled that she and her husband-to-be had deceived themselves into believing that breaking the commandment against sexual sin and living together before marriage would strengthen their love. “What friends told us would be a trust-building experience actually devastated our relationship,” she said. After their marriage, doubts began to surface. Knowing that they each had been willing to live with someone before marriage, how could they trust each other fully?

Doubt often leads to mistrust, mistrust to contention, and contention to separation and divorce, as happened in this case. By contrast, moral cleanliness inspires trust, confidence, and peace.

In the final story, Verinda, a vibrant young Apache girl, was accepted into the Indian Student Placement Service. She later gave this testimony:
“When I first participated in this program eight years ago, I got off the bus with only the clothes on my back and a few small possessions in a shoebox. I came from a humble home. My people are humble. But you have opened your hearts unto me. For that I am thankful. Now I can go home with a brand new suitcase of clothes. But that is not my wealth. I am wealthy because that which is inside of me is as precious as all of the wealth in this world. I have a testimony of the gospel. I know that Jesus is the Christ and that God lives and answers prayers. I now have a goal—something I can strive for.”

“Is Dad coming home tonight?” Benjamin asked. Dad worked as a sailor off the coast near their home in Denmark.
“No,” Mom said, “he will be home in four days.”
Dad had promised Benjamin that they could play football when he returned. Benjamin missed Dad.
“Before I go to bed tonight, I’ll pray that he will come home safely,” Benjamin thought.
Benjamin’s dad stood on the ship in the freezing rain, hurrying to finish his work before the evening meal. Feeling tired and cold, he thought of his family back at home.
Suddenly, an enormous wave rocked the ship. Supplies clattered to the floor as sailors shouted in confusion. The captain peered out into the darkness and couldn’t see Benjamin’s dad on the deck anymore.
“Man overboard!” he shouted.
Later that evening Benjamin watched Mom pile the dinner dishes in the sink. As she scrubbed she looked out the window into the garden. Trees swayed in the fierce wind. Benjamin saw the worried look on his mother’s face and felt worried, too. Would Dad be all right out in this storm?
Benjamin’s dad could hear the ship’s alarm ringing, but the sound grew quieter as the strong waves pushed him farther away from the ship. Sailors tossed life preservers into the water, hoping to save him, but they could not see him in the stormy darkness.
He tried to stay calm and keep his head above water. He found the flashlight clipped to his life jacket and pointed it toward the ship so the sailors could see where he was—but the light didn’t work.
On board the ship, the captain radioed for help. Soon a helicopter hovered over the ocean, shining a spotlight down onto the huge waves.
“We can’t find him,” the helicopter pilot radioed to the captain. The captain fought back tears, fearing the worst for his friend. “But we’ll try again,” the pilot decided. He was afraid the helicopter would run out of fuel, but he knew he was the lost sailor’s last hope.
Benjamin’s dad was getting colder and colder. His teeth rattled as he clutched the broken flashlight in his numb fingers.
Back home it was Benjamin’s bedtime. Mom listened as, kneeling by his bed, he prayed, “Dear Heavenly Father, please protect Dad and bring him home safely to Mom and me.”
Benjamin’s dad saw a helicopter flying low. He tried to wave his arm, but he was so tired and cold he could hardly move it.
Then a voice in his mind said, “Turn on the light.”
“But it doesn’t work,” he thought.
“Turn on the light,” the voice said again.
“Why should I?” he mumbled as his stiff fingers fumbled with the switch. “Either the lightbulb is burned out or the batteries are dead.”
The helicopter came closer and closer. When it was almost directly overhead, Benjamin’s dad pointed the flashlight toward the sky and flipped the switch.
Just then the pilot saw a flicker of light in the water below. “We’ve found him!” he cried into the radio. The sailors aboard the ship cheered. Within minutes Benjamin’s dad was hoisted up into the warmth and safety of the helicopter. Wrapped in a blanket, he listened to the engine vibrate, imagining it singing, “Home to Benjamin, home to Benjamin!”
After the helicopter landed and an ambulance took Benjamin’s dad to the hospital, the helicopter pilot walked back to where Benjamin’s dad had been resting. There on the floor lay the flashlight. Curious, he picked it up and opened it. Two very old, rusty batteries fell out.
“These batteries can’t work,” he thought. “But if I didn’t see this light out on the ocean, what did I see?”
“God must have watched over this sailor,” he said out loud to his copilot, who was standing beside him. They both nodded in silence.
Benjamin’s mom suddenly felt happy. The worried feeling went away.
Opening Benjamin’s door a crack, she peeked into his room and saw that he was sleeping soundly. Benjamin lay dreaming about the football game Dad had promised him. A warm feeling had assured him that Heavenly Father would answer his prayer and that Dad would be home soon.

Despite the cost of the trip, Brother Mateo; his wife, Altagracia; and three of their children were sealed in the temple in 2001. Since then they have sacrificed to save enough to visit the temple at least twice each year.
The work and the sacrifices, both physical and spiritual, are worth it to Brother Mateo.
“It’s not hard when you know what the purpose is,” he says. “We’re fighting for something more sublime than wordly things.”

My father had an idea that his boys ought to learn to work, and so he bought a five-acre farm which eventually grew to include more than 30 acres. We lived there in the summer and returned to the city when school started.
We had a large orchard, and the trees had to be pruned each spring. We learned a great truth—that you could pretty well determine the kind of fruit you would pick in September by the way you pruned in February. Further, we learned that new, young wood produces the best fruit. That has many applications in life.

Because he wants to be a good student, Hugo works very hard at his schoolwork, and his studies keep him busy every day. He tries very hard to do the things he knows are right and to be a good example. He is the only member of the Church in his school, and he has learned it can be difficult to be the only one in a group who wants to choose the right. When his friends use bad language, for example, Hugo tries to show them a better way to talk. “It makes me feel sad when they won’t listen,” he says, “but I still try to choose the right way.”

John Taylor stayed with the Prophet Joseph Smith, his brother Hyrum Smith, and Elder Willard Richards at Carthage Jail. John sang to help comfort the prisoners.
John: “A poor wayfaring Man of griefHath often crossed me on my way …”*
After John had sung it once, the Prophet Joseph asked him to sing it again.
Joseph: Sing that song again, will you, John?
John: I do not feel like singing.
Hyrum: Yes, please sing that song again.
Joseph: You’ll feel better once you begin, and so will I.
John: “A poor wayfaring Man of griefHath often crossed me on my way …”
Then a mob of men with painted faces and guns stormed up the stairs to the room where the Prophet and the other prisoners were staying.
Mobster: The Mormon Prophet is up here!!
Elder Richards tried to keep the mob out of the room with a hickory cane, but could not. The mob killed Hyrum. Then Joseph ran to the window and was shot by more members of the mob from below.
Elder Taylor was shot five times. One of the bullets was stopped by the watch in his vest pocket. That saved his life.
Later, he wrote this about Joseph Smith.
John: “Joseph Smith, the Prophet and Seer of the Lord, has done more, save Jesus only, for the salvation of men in this world, than any other man that ever lived in it.”**

When we began dating, I learned how strongly Kathy felt about keeping the Sabbath Day holy. Because of her devotion, our family has always tried hard to make Sunday a special day. We don’t watch TV on Sunday or go to sporting events. We listen to sacred music, write letters, and spend lots of time talking together. Our younger children liked to read stories from the Friend and from scripture readers. As a result, we have enjoyed a spirit of peace in our home on the Sabbath.

It was almost Christmas. I arrived home fatigued from walking and disappointed with the day’s events. It had been three months since I had graduated from the Church College of Hawaii and returned home to my family in the Philippines. But the only work I had been able to get was selling encyclopedias door to door.
“Any luck today?” Mother asked hesitantly, seeing the tired look in my eyes.
“Oh, not really, I guess encyclopedias aren’t popular Christmas gifts these days.” There was pain in my voice. I needed to sell at least one set of encyclopedias so I could buy Christmas presents for my family. For three years I had missed spending the holidays with my family. I had yearned for this moment. But even more I had looked forward to showering them with presents. Now with only two days until Christmas, I had no money. Suddenly, I felt two loving hands around me. It was Mila, my youngest sister. “Don’t worry about my chocolates,” she whispered. “Sweets aren’t good for me, anyway.”
Then she took my hand and lovingly led me to the dinner table. As we ate, I explained to my family how sorry I was I hadn’t sold enough books to buy them Christmas presents. Then, hoping to end the discussion, I stood and started to clear the table.
Now my father began to speak. “You are already giving us the best Christmas gift possible,” he said. Then he continued. “You were planning to stay in Hawaii and get a good job after you graduated. But we told you how much we missed you and asked you to consider coming home. What you are giving us is more important than any material gift. Your love for us is something money cannot buy.”
By this time, tears were in my eyes.
“Besides,” he said, “sometimes, the Lord delays a blessing so that we can appreciate more important blessings. It would be nice to get a new pair of shoes from you this Christmas, but what good would a new pair of shoes be if you were not around to make our holidays complete?”
Suddenly, I realized how many gifts I had been given. I had a loving family. I had been able to finish school and had good prospects of a better-paying job in the coming year. Most important, I had the capacity to love and care for those around me. This, then, would be my gift to my loved ones. And perhaps it was the best gift of all.
“By the way,” father added, smiling, “Mrs. Cruz called and said she has decided to pay cash for that set of encyclopedias for her children.”
“Hurrah!” Mila exclaimed. “Now you can get me a box of chocolates for Christmas!”
I was crying more than laughing. What a wonderful way to celebrate Christmas. I was at home with my family, and I had a new perspective.

Education: Whether formal or informal, it is important that we educate our minds and our hands. I know a wonderful sister who served in a stake Relief Society presidency a few years ago. She put her children through schooling, and in her more mature years, she decided to go back to complete high school. This now serves as a great example to her grandchildren on the importance of getting an education.