Gospel Story Finder

Years ago, my wife, Ruth; our daughter, Ashley; and I joined other tourists on a kayaking excursion in the state of Hawaii in the United States. A kayak is a low-to-the-water, canoe-like boat in which the rower sits facing forward and uses a double-bladed paddle to pull front to back on one side and then on the other. The plan was to row to two small islands off the coast of Oahu and back again. I was confident because, as a young man, I had paddled kayaks across mountain lakes. Hubris never bodes well, does it?

Our guide gave us instructions and showed us the ocean kayaks we would use. They differed from the ones I had previously paddled. I was supposed to sit on top of the kayak, instead of down inside it. When I got onto the kayak, my center of gravity was higher than I was accustomed to, and I was less stable in the water.

As we started out, I rowed faster than Ruth and Ashley. After a while, I was far ahead of them. Though proud of my heroic pace, I stopped paddling and waited for them to catch up. A large wave—about 13 centimeters—hit the side of my kayak and flipped me over into the water. By the time I had turned the kayak upright and struggled to get back on top, Ruth and Ashley had passed me by, but I was too winded to resume paddling. Before I could catch my breath, another wave, this one truly enormous—at least 20 centimeters—hit my kayak and flipped me over again. By the time I managed to right the kayak, I was so out of breath I feared I would not be able to climb on top.

Seeing my situation, the guide rowed over and steadied my kayak, making it easier for me to climb on top. When he saw that I was still too breathless to row on my own, he hitched a towrope to my kayak and began paddling, pulling me along with him. Soon I caught my breath and began paddling adequately on my own. He let go of the rope, and I reached the first island without further assistance. Upon arrival, I flopped down on the sand, exhausted.

After the group had rested, the guide quietly said to me, “Mr. Renlund, if you just keep paddling, maintaining your momentum, I think you’re going to be fine.” I followed his advice as we paddled to the second island and then back to our starting point. Twice the guide rowed by and told me I was doing great. Even larger waves hit my kayak from the side, but I was not flipped over.

By consistently paddling the kayak, I maintained momentum and forward progress, mitigating the effect of waves hitting me from the side. The same principle applies in our spiritual lives. We become vulnerable when we slow down and especially when we stop. If we maintain spiritual momentum by continually “rowing” toward the Savior, we are safer and more secure because our eternal life depends on our faith in Him.

Consider how the expedition guide helped me after I flipped over in the kayak. He did not shout from afar an unhelpful question such as, “Mr. Renlund, what are you doing in the water?” He did not paddle up and chide me, saying, “Mr. Renlund, you would not be in this situation if you were more physically fit.” He did not start towing my kayak while I was just trying to get on top of it. And he did not correct me in front of the group. Instead, he gave me the help I needed at the time I needed it. He gave me advice when I was receptive. And he went out of his way to encourage me.

The Favaretto family attends church in the Florence Branch, some distance from their home. “It takes us about an hour and fifteen minutes to get to Florence, so we have to get up very early on Sunday mornings so we can get to church on time,” says Rebecca. Occasionally, some member of the family has other meetings or appointments after church on Sunday. When this happens, the whole family makes arrangements to stay in the city all day. For instance on the Sunday afternoon when Rebecca’s brother, Gianni, had his mission interview with the district president, her mother brought everything they needed to prepare their dinner at the church. Rebecca helped her mother prepare the meal and set the table in the kitchen at the church, and the whole family (plus a few guests) enjoyed dinner together.

Shannon, a young mother, did not expect that she would teach her children the power of prayer when they piled into their van to drive to their home just 40 minutes away. There was no storm when they left their grandmother’s home, but as they began to drive through the canyon, the light snow turned into a blizzard. The van began sliding on the surface of the road. Soon visibility was near zero. The two youngest children could sense the stress of the situation and began to cry. Shannon said to the older children, Heidi and Thomas, ages eight and six, “You need to pray. We need Heavenly Father’s help to get home safely. Pray that we will not get stuck and that we will not slide off the road.” Her hands shook as she steered the car, yet she could hear the whisper of little prayers repeatedly coming from the backseat: “Heavenly Father, please help us get home safely; please help us so we will not slide off the road.”

In time, the prayers calmed the two little ones, and they stopped their crying just as they learned that a road closure prevented them from driving any farther. Cautiously, they turned around and found a motel for the night. Once in the motel, they knelt down and thanked Heavenly Father for their safety. That night a mother taught her children the power of holding true to prayer.

Recently at work, I was listening to music while typing away at emails. Suddenly, a favorite song of mine came on, and as I listened to the lyrics of the song, it made me think of moments in the past where I had wished I could “fix” and heal loved ones who were hurting. Let me take you back to a few examples:
When my grandma was sick a few years ago, I would stay with her several nights a week. After giving her medicine and tucking her into bed, I would get in my car and drive through a dark canyon to get home. I would play this same song on repeat and cry and cry. I would beg Heavenly Father to give me more patience. To be kinder. To be softer. But most of all, I begged Him to know how I could fix her.
Then, about two years ago, a friend of mine died by suicide. The phone call I received that delivered the news will be etched in my mind for the rest of my life. I beat myself up for months, wondering what more I could have done for this person. How I could have been a better friend. How I could have called more. How I could have invited this person more. I had so many thoughts of regret and self-blame that went on and on.
And finally, I recently hit a point of exhaustion I’d never felt before. My friends, family members, and even coworkers had been opening up to me about their current challenges, and the more they opened up to me, the more I would try to take on what they were struggling with. I was hyperfocused on that idea of “fixing,” and I felt powerless to do so.
So when that song came on at work, tears instantly flooded my eyes as I stopped typing and listened to the music. It was all I could do to mutter a small prayer: “Heavenly Father … I’m exhausted.”
Then God, in His loving grace, answered my prayer by patiently teaching me. These words instantly came to my mind: “You’re exhausted because you’re trying to be the fixer. And that is what I sent my Son to do.”
I felt incredibly humbled in that moment. I’d been trying to do a job that was never mine to do in the first place.
As Sister Reyna I. Aburto, Second Counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency, taught: “Sometimes, the natural man or woman in us makes us think that we have been called to ‘fix’ other people. We have not been called to be ‘fixers’ of others, and we have not been called to lecture or to scorn. We have been called to inspire, to lift, to invite others, to be fishers of people, fishers of souls so they receive the opportunity to be spiritually healed by Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer.”1
I’ve learned that because of the world we live in, we will constantly be with people, including ourselves, who are imperfect. And living in an imperfect world means that we will all experience challenges in this life, including difficult things that are beyond our control. That’s why God sent Jesus Christ—so He could help us.
Heavenly Father reminded me that day in my office that it wasn’t my job to heal my grandma. I wasn’t to blame for my friend’s death by suicide. And it certainly wasn’t my role to take on all the burdens and weaknesses of those around me.

Illustration by Allen Garns
One Sunday during sacrament meeting, I sensed something that disturbed me. I did not know what it was, but the feeling would not leave. I looked nervously at the clock and longed for the end of the meeting. This was unusual for me.
After the closing prayer, the feeling was still there. I glanced around the chapel and noticed a man clutching his chest. I went to him, and he asked if I would take him to the train station. I told him I should take him to the emergency room instead. He said he had medication at home that would help him. I told him I would drive him home because taking a train in his condition would be too dangerous.
I helped him into my car and asked again if I should take him to the doctor. He said that was not necessary and that I could just go to his home. I silently prayed, asking my Father in Heaven to help him be all right and to help me drive him home safely! I drove carefully, opened the car windows, and tried to calm him down. After some time, he leaned back in his seat and slowly began to relax.
When we arrived at his home, he invited me in. I was glad because I wanted to make sure he got his medication and that it worked. He took his medication and started to feel better. He said his chest still hurt a bit but that he felt safe at home.
He invited me to stay for dinner, and since that afternoon, we have become good friends. We often go on outings together and help each other. Before this experience, I had many friends who were not a good influence on me. But my friendship with this man has blessed my life.
Sometimes out of a crisis, a great friendship can arise. If I had simply put him on the train, I wonder if he would have made it home. I would never have forgiven myself if something had happened to him. I am grateful to my Father in Heaven that the Holy Spirit led me into this situation and that, in the process, I was able to gain a true and dear friend!

The second example of lives filled with service, with which I shall conclude, is the missionary experience of Juliusz and Dorothy Fussek, who were called to fill an 18-month mission in Poland. Brother Fussek was born in Poland. He spoke the language. He loved the people. Sister Fussek was born in England and knew little of Poland and nothing of its people.

Trusting in the Lord, they embarked on their assignment. The living conditions were primitive, the work lonely, their task immense. A mission had not at that time been fully established in Poland. The assignment given the Fusseks was to prepare the way so that the mission could be expanded and gain permanence, that other missionaries be called to serve, people taught, converts baptized, branches established, and chapels erected.

Did Elder and Sister Fussek despair because of the enormity of their assignment? Not for a moment. They knew their calling was from God, they prayed for His divine help, and they devoted themselves wholeheartedly to their work. They remained in Poland not 18 months, but rather served for five years. All of the foregoing objectives were realized. Such came about following an earlier meeting where Elders Russell M. Nelson, Hans B. Ringger, and I, accompanied by Elder Fussek, met with Minister Adam Wopatka of the Polish government, and we heard him say, “Your church is welcome here. You may build your buildings, you may send your missionaries. You are welcome in Poland. This man,” pointing to Juliusz Fussek, “has served your church well, as has his wife. You can be grateful for their example and their work.”

“One night I had to make a choice between a party at the Church and another party where no one was a Church member,” says Estefanía Gómez, 17, of Guayaquil. “I decided I didn’t want to go to the Church party. When I got to the other party, there was a lot of cigarette smoke and everybody was drinking. I really felt bad—and I felt lonely. The One who I try to keep with me, the Holy Ghost, stayed outside because He doesn’t go into unclean places. After 10 minutes, I phoned my brother to take me to the other party.
“We need to take advantage of the parties and friends we have in the Church. A lot of our friends may be at other parties, and they may say it’s just a little get-together. But it’s not just a get-together. It usually turns into something else—and that’s not good for anything!”

Through his knowledge of cardiopulmonary resuscitation and heart massage, Paul Reay, 16, of Provo, Utah, was able to save the life of his ten-month-old baby brother.
The baby, David, pulled himself into the bathtub, pulled the stopper closed, and turned on both the hot and cold water. Minutes later five-year-old Donnie discovered the baby, who was blue and floating face down, and pulled him out of the tub. Donnie ran to get his older brother, Paul.
Paul started working on the baby and called an ambulance. The baby started breathing after about 30 seconds. Paul learned these lifesaving techniques when he took a first-aid class required before he could join the local ski patrol.
Paul is a member of the Oak Hills Third Ward, Provo Utah Sharon East Stake.

Will R., 15, of Cheshire, England, first heard about the British Pageant from ward friends and decided to audition because it sounded fun. When he got the part of David Ashton, a young man who learned the truth by reading the Book of Mormon, he knew that he would have to make a sacrifice if he accepted the role.
Participating meant that Will would have to give up his summer vacation. Instead of doing his normal summer activities, he’d have to attend weeks of long rehearsals. But Will knew he would be blessed if he accepted the part, because if he did, he’d be sharing his testimony through acting, singing, and dancing all summer long.
In the end, the sacrifice he made to share the gospel “was worth it.” Will explained that because of his sacrifice, he not only “learned so much and made new friends,” but he also grew spiritually. “Being in the pageant has increased my testimony,” he said. “As I met and heard the testimonies of other youth, their examples strengthened my own testimony.” Will felt the truth in his own life, and it strengthened him—which will better help him share it with others too.

When we put the Lord first in our home, it becomes a place where our spirits can be renewed and strengthened. Sister Margaret Murdock of Salt Lake City was asked to teach a Relief Society lesson about the scriptures. As she prepared her lesson, she began to realize that she had never studied the scriptures enough to make them part of her everyday thinking. As a single mother of five with a responsible job, she knew she needed more guidance.

Now Sister Murdock studies the scriptures for a half hour each morning and also at night. And for the first time, she is finding that the Lord’s words come to mind when she has problems at work or with her children. “Now I see the people I deal with at work as children of our Heavenly Father, whether they are religious or not,” says Sister Murdock. One of her co-workers is rude and hard to work with. “He’s a child of God, too,” says sister Murdock. “He just doesn’t know it yet.” Because she is taking the time for the Lord at home, Sister Murdock is feeling greater peace—whatever difficulties may arise.

I recall that when I was called to be the president of the Northwestern States Mission, it came at a very difficult time for me to leave my business. Many of my friends, members and nonmembers, said to me, “The Church is asking you to make a great sacrifice.” I replied to each, “I feel it is a real opportunity.”

As President McKay set me apart, he promised me that it would be the happiest period of my life. It wasn’t the easiest experience of my life, but it was the happiest—another experience in my life where sacrifice brought forth the blessings of heaven to me and my wife.

When I was 12 years old, my mother died, leaving my father with six children. There were few educational opportunities in our area, and many people were satisfied with a fourth-grade education. But I wasn’t. I held on to a dream of finishing my studies.
My opportunity came when I moved to the city of Santarém, Brazil, at age 17. My father arranged for me to live with some people he knew, and I began taking a few classes. My work barely paid for the school materials I needed.
During my first year there, the people I lived with asked me to affiliate with their church. I repeatedly refused their request. The third year came, and I still hadn’t joined their church. Then one day they asked me to find another place to live. I was devastated.
The next day I didn’t go to work or to school. I remembered my stepmother’s friend who lived close by and resolved to talk to her.
When I arrived, Maria Jose welcomed me. After I explained my situation, she asked that I go and get my things and come stay at her home. There seemed to be something extraordinary about her kindness.
After a few days, as she was preparing food, she told me that missionaries from her church were coming to eat lunch. Her goodness made me curious about her beliefs.
I spoke with Elder Riggs and Elder Marcio during lunch and set up a time to hear a discussion. By the appointment the next day, I had read the Book of Mormon and prayed about it but hadn’t felt anything unusual. But before the missionaries began, they promised me that if I would open my heart I would know that the things they would teach were true.
They didn’t need to say anything more, because while they spoke I knew by a strong feeling that this was the Church of Jesus Christ. Three weeks later I became a member.
I later served full time in the Brazil Curitiba Mission. I love this gospel and the opportunity I had to do for others the same work those missionaries did for me.
I couldn’t join one church—even when my decision left me homeless. But in finding a home and a Christlike friend, I found the true Church of Jesus Christ.

Many years ago, my ministering brothers invited me to seriously study the Book of Mormon. When they gave me this invitation, I realized that, although I read a little from the Book of Mormon each day, I wasn’t seriously studying it.
They shared a promise with me that was based on words from President Ezra Taft Benson: “There is a power in the [Book of Mormon] which will begin to flow into your lives the moment you begin a serious study of the book. You will find greater power to resist temptation … to avoid deception … to stay on the strait and narrow path” (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Ezra Taft Benson [2014], 141).
I accepted their invitation, and in the following months I saw that their promise was fulfilled. It has changed my life.

As Vanessa has learned more and more, she has been able to help her younger sisters and brother learn. They have each progressed faster in their music because they’ve had the help of an older sister. In a family of performers, everything doesn’t go perfectly smooth. Practice time can get a little heated. Everyone has his own opinion about how things should be done. But all differences fade away on stage. They all get into the spirit of the performance and enjoy sharing what they do with appreciative audiences.

This experience is familiar to those who have been involved in translating the scriptures from English into other languages. It happens over and over:
A young Armenian holding a copy of the Book of Mormon only recently translated into his language approaches a member of the team who assisted with the translating: “Thank you,” he says. “I have read the Book of Mormon in English. I have read the Book of Mormon in Russian. I have read it in Ukrainian. But until I was able to read it in Armenian, I did not truly understand it. When I read it in Armenian, it finally made sense. It was like coming home.”

Nikki and Breck Fullmer quarreled constantly. Most of their fights were about Nikki borrowing Breck’s T-shirts, and Nikki enduring Breck’s music. Nikki and Breck were both looking for a way out of their conflicts when they decided to participate in their stake’s “Time Alone” experiment.
In “Time Alone” you invite a family member to spend an hour doing something they like with only you. It’s a laser focus of attention on a single sibling or parent. “Time Alone” is a simple formula for friendship that might make a change in your family. Some family members experience results in just a few meetings.
Nikki knew her brother gulped gallons of soda pop every week, so she invited him to go get a drink with her. He thought it was a fine arrangement, since she was buying. After the soda they talked and drove around for an hour. After just one rendezvous Nikki said, “He’s at a stage where he’ll do just about anything to be cool. And now he thinks it’s cool to be with me.”
Other young people who participated in the experiment didn’t fight with their brothers and sisters but felt their relationships weren’t as strong as they could be. Curtis Morley missed the close relationship he and his younger brother had as young boys. He decided to get up early with his brother and join him in his bike ride to volleyball practice during the summer.
“At first we just talked of common things, but as the days progressed he spoke more from the heart. I anticipated a noticeable change in him. It didn’t happen. Instead the change came over me. I had regained a friend, someone who would always be there when I needed him—and an awesome volleyball partner.”

Donna’s red curls bounced as she skipped home from school. Mrs. Richards had just read the class a story about pirates who buried chests full of treasure. Some of the buried treasures had never been found, and Donna was thinking how wonderful it would be to discover one of them. Her family was going to Grandma’s house for dinner that night, and she could hardly wait to tell Grandma the story. She often talked about the olden days; now it would be Donna’s turn.
When they arrived at Grandma’s house, Donna ran straight to the kitchen. “Grandma! Grandma!” she squealed. “We learned about buried treasure today. My teacher says there are still treasures hidden away. Maybe when I get older, I can find one.”
Grandma smiled. “What kind of treasure would you like to find?”
Donna thought for a minute. “Gold and diamonds.”
Grandma nodded with a twinkle in her eye. “That certainly would be wonderful. Maybe after dinner we could pretend to be pirates and look for buried treasure right here.”
Donna clapped her hands. “Oh, Grandma, could we? I’ll help you clean up after dinner.”
When the dishes were washed and put away, Grandma took Donna aside and whispered in her ear. “When I was a little girl, I, too, dreamed of finding a treasure. I used to search in the attic. Shall we see if there’s any treasure up there?”
Donna could hardly control her excitement. “Yes! Yes!”
They had to climb some narrow steps to get into the dark attic. Donna held Grandma’s hand very tightly. She was a little afraid, but she didn’t want Grandma to know. When they reached the top of the stairs and Grandma turned on the light, Donna was disappointed. All she saw were some dusty boxes, a few cobwebs, and a big trunk that didn’t look anything like a pirate chest. How could they ever find treasure in this junk?
Donna carefully opened one of the boxes. Inside were some old toys. She took out a doll with bright blue eyes and a pink dress. “Who did this belong to?” she asked, admiring the doll.
“Your mother. It was her favorite, and she used to play with it every day. She called it Donna, and she always said that when she had a little girl, she would name her Donna, too.”
Donna smiled, trying to imagine her mom playing with the doll. It made her happy to know that her mom had always wanted a little girl.
Grandma had opened another box and was looking at a large picture in a beautiful wood frame. Standing in the picture was a red-haired girl about Donna’s age. Donna examined the picture carefully. She had seen this girl before, but where?
“Who is she?” Donna asked.
“Well, goodness,” said Grandma, “that picture does look familiar.” She searched and found a dusty mirror, cleaned it off, and handed it to Donna. “Look,” she said, “and tell me what you see.”
As Donna looked in the mirror, her eyes got bigger. They were the same big brown eyes she had seen in the picture, under the same red curls. The two faces were the same!
“That’s me in the picture, Grandma! Why can’t I remember when it was taken?”
Grandma laughed. “Because that isn’t you in the picture, dear. It’s your mother. We had that picture taken when she was just about your age.”
Donna was amazed. She had had no idea that she looked so much like her mom.
Grandma’s eyes were gleaming as she opened the big trunk. “Donna,” she said, “come see what I’ve found!” On top of the pile was the dress Donna’s mom had worn in the picture. It was white with purple flowers and white ruffles.
“Can I try it on, Grandma?” Donna pleaded. “I’ll be very careful; I promise.” After Grandma had helped her put on the dress, Donna looked in the mirror again and giggled. Now she looked exactly like Mom. They were finding some wonderful treasures, even though not of diamonds or gold.
Grandma reached into the trunk again and pulled out another picture. This time it was a small picture of a beautiful building.
“I know what that is!” Donna exclaimed. “It’s the Salt Lake Temple.”
“Yes,” Grandma said. “This picture is very special to me. When I was a little girl, my Primary teacher gave one to each of us after a lesson about the temple. She told us how wonderful it was to go to the temple and be sealed together as a family.
“She said that we could also do work for people who had died without a chance to hear about the gospel. Then she explained that in order to enter the temple, we had to go to church, pay our tithing, obey the Word of Wisdom, and keep the other commandments.
“I was so proud of my beautiful picture that I took it home and hung it right above my bed. Every night before I said my prayers, I looked at the picture, then asked Heavenly Father to help me prepare to go there. I wanted to go to the temple more than anything else. I wanted to help people like my great-grandmother, who didn’t know about the gospel. And I wanted to be married there to a good man.
“The day I went to the temple with your grandpa to be married for eternity was the most beautiful day of my life. When I see our family together, it makes me happy that we have made the right choices. We still need to keep working to be good, but it’s all worth it, knowing that we can be together forever.”
Donna smiled. “I guess we really did find a treasure today.”
Grandma hugged her. “Donna, I want you to have this picture of the temple to help you remember the treasures you will find there.”
Donna gave Grandma a big kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Grandma. You’re the best treasure finder in the whole world!”

When Bill and I decided we would like to go to college, we found it would take almost all we had saved since graduation from high school to pay the modest tuition required at the state university located about one hundred miles from our home. On a visit to the campus we did locate a place where we could get board and room for 20 dollars a month apiece but, to our dismay, found that even part-time jobs at less than 25 cents an hour had many takers. The fact that Bill and I had graduated at the top of our high school classes apparently did not qualify us for the few scholarships available; our mother was undergoing expensive medical treatment (she would die within the year), and our father’s small coal mine, still under development, could not be counted on for consistent support. Our determination to attend college seemed hopelessly blocked.
Then Boyd, who was still in high school and a truly extraordinary student, came home to announce that a local transfer company had offered him a job as bookkeeper for their entire operation at a salary of 40 dollars a month. He would have to work long hours after school and all day Saturday, but I can still hear the delight in his voice as he said, “Now Bill and Bob can go to school.”
How our parents and brother managed to send us the 40 dollars we needed each month I still can’t figure out; but, obviously, most of it came from Boyd. My guess is that he spent almost nothing on himself to be sure we had what we needed. Happily, over the years, Bill and I have had a chance to help Boyd, but the very essence of total sharing is that there is no attempt to balance the books. Gifts of pure love are never a sacrifice, and losing one’s life completely in the service of others is to find it completely. Now, after all these years, I understand the deeper meaning of what Mother was trying to instill in us: Unconditional love within the family can prepare us to appreciate the Savior’s gift of eternal life, for he is our brother.

Our daughter, Alexis, was born premature at 26 weeks. Because she was born with underdeveloped lungs, she needed respiratory support to help her breathe.
Alexis was scheduled to come home after three months in the neonatal intensive care unit. But she suddenly took a turn for the worse when she developed increased blood pressure in the blood vessels that supply her lungs, a condition known as pulmonary hypertension.
The day she turned blue while struggling to breathe remains etched in my mind. It was one of many frightening moments we experienced during the 12 months she spent in the hospital. That year was a heart-wrenching roller-coaster ride for my husband and me.
Our isolation added to our worry. Because of the COVID-19 epidemic, I was separated from members of my extended family. Also, it was tough for my husband and me to find support outside the hospital. It seemed that few people comprehended what we were going through. I felt helpless and desperate, breaking down several times at the hospital.
I am thankful for Relief Society sisters who helped my family in our hour of need. I was new to the ward, having just moved from Hong Kong to Singapore. Many sisters I did not know delivered food and checked on me. I was touched by their love and prayers for my family.
During dark moments, I turned to God. He did not immediately answer my prayers, but I continued to pray. My husband, though not a member of the Church, supported me by joining in my prayers. We got through each day with faith in our hearts that God would provide. We did all we could for our precious child and left the rest to Him.
With God’s guidance, we reached a decision we had struggled with for months. We felt guided to have Alexis undergo a tracheostomy. Surgeons planned to make an incision in the front of her neck at her trachea and then insert a tracheal tube that would allow direct ventilation to her lungs. Alexis would then be able to breathe without using her nose or mouth.
During our daughter’s lengthy hospitalization, we lived through what felt like a never-ending Saturday. We faced so much uncertainty that we couldn’t see past each day. During frightening moments when Alexis looked like she might die, we had difficulty seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, much less feeling hope.
But through our experience, I learned that Heavenly Father and His Son are fully aware of us and our trials. I am grateful for the Savior and in awe of His Atonement. Through His Atonement, we can receive unwavering help to get through the Saturdays of our lives as we hold on to hope for future blessings.
Alexis’s operation was successful. She recently celebrated her third birthday. Despite what she went through, she is a cheerful toddler who loves to smile and meet new people at our neighborhood park. Her tracheal tube prevents her from speaking, but she loves to sign colors and read books. We feel blessed to spend every waking moment with her.

For April Page, 17, from the Highland Utah East Stake, the temple has become a symbol of her goals. “Every time I talk with my parents about having the goal to go to the temple, they just become so emotional. They are so happy that is a definite goal of mine.”
April accompanied Michelle Bone. April said, “Michelle’s spirit completely overwhelmed me. The smile never left her face through the entire tour. Michelle taught me about being happy and having faith in what the gospel has taught me. I felt honored to be by her side in the Lord’s holy temple.”