Gospel Story Finder

It was a sweaty Sunday afternoon, and the chapel was stifling. My wife was wrestling with the children to keep them reverent, and I was wrestling with my eyelids to keep them open. We were both losing.
The speaker didn’t help me any in my fight against sacrament meeting slumber. He was a typical youth speaker, and he followed the pattern of most youth speakers in our ward—he read to us from a book.
As he mumbled on, my wife and I both surrendered: she took the children out to the foyer, and I fell asleep. Soon I was dozing comfortably.
Maybe I was too comfortable or maybe somebody poked me awake—it’s happened before. At any rate, my head slipped out of my hands and “thwap!” my forehead hit the bench in front of me.
I don’t normally have such headaches in sacrament meeting, but a dull speaker and a stuffy chapel almost always make me drowsy.
Sometimes, though, it’s easy to listen to and learn from speakers no matter how uncomfortable the setting. It’s the speaker, not the conditions, that has a sleeping effect on me. So, what does it take to be a good speaker? Can anyone, including youth speakers, give interesting talks in church?
I never gave much thought to why some speakers are more interesting than others until one of my own sacrament meeting talks failed. I had prepared what I considered a good talk about patriotism with plenty of quotations and scriptures, but they didn’t help much. I ended up putting people to sleep. I was so embarrassed that I vowed I would never give a boring talk again.
I started paying close attention to what other speakers, interesting speakers, did in their talks. A few weeks after my sacrament meeting disaster, I went to a fireside featuring our stake presidency. Each man delivered inspiring, stimulating messages, and as I looked around the audience, not a single person looked bored.
The second counselor spoke first. He talked about his childhood in a small town and how he made the extra efforts to befriend a boy who had been rejected by all the other children at school. He told us how, twenty years later, that friendless boy, now a successful man, came to him and thanked him for his kindness. He concluded his talk by quoting a scripture about the worth of souls and bearing his testimony of the gospel.
Next the first counselor told of his great-grandmother, a woman who had personally known all the presidents of the Church since Brigham Young. He related his last visit with her and how she admonished him and his young family, in a firm but aged voice, to “Keep the faith!” He then read a scripture about enduring to the end and finished his address with his testimony of the importance of constantly striving to do good.
Our stake president was the final speaker. He talked of the importance of showing love in families and told the story of the last time he saw his father alive. His parents were at the bus stop to bid him farewell as he left for his mission. In parting he shook his father’s hand, hugged and kissed his mother, and turned to board the waiting bus. As he stepped aboard the bus, the Spirit prompted him to return to his father and say good-bye again. We listened raptly as he told us that he stepped off the bus and went to his father to embrace and kiss him one final time. His father did not live to see him again.
In concluding he bore testimony of the importance of showing love to one another in our families. We were all deeply touched and inspired by his message.
After the meeting, I thought about what each of the fireside speakers had done to present an interesting, uplifting speech. They all used the scriptures to teach a gospel principle, they told a relevant inspiring anecdote or personal experience, and they bore their testimonies.
In the next general conference, I noticed that many of the General Authorities used the same scripture-anecdote-testimony formula in their talks. Could that same formula be used by others with success?
I decided to try the scripture-anecdote-testimony combination in my next speaking assignment to see if it might improve my effectiveness. I spoke about the temple and the joyous experience my family and I shared when we were sealed together. Next I explained the importance of temples and quoted a scripture to emphasize my point. Finally, I bore my testimony of temples and the eternal blessings they provide.
The congregation didn’t stand and applaud my talk at the end of the meeting, but they didn’t fall asleep either. As a matter of fact, several people complimented me on my talk—something that was usually done only by my wife and the bishop. I felt good about the talk I had given.
Anybody can give a talk in sacrament meeting, and most everybody does, sooner or later. Your turn will come soon (or again), and you can make it a successful, enjoyable experience for you and your listeners if you’ll include some of the same simple steps used by effective speakers.
First, prayerfully select or consider your topic. Next search the standard works for one or two pertinent scriptures. Then review your own experiences (or those of others that you’ve read about) and select an uplifting anecdote to relate. Finally, plan to bear your testimony about the principle you discuss in your talk.
If you include these four steps as you plan your next talk, and if you’re well prepared, you’ll deliver an effective, interesting talk in sacrament meeting.
And I promise I won’t fall asleep.

“There has to be a better way!” I thought to myself at 11:30 on Sunday night. Here I was again, trying to cram a whole weekend’s worth of homework into Sunday evening.
Each weekend I would find excuses to postpone my homework until the very last minute—Sunday night. I realized that stressing over homework was not the best way to keep the Sabbath day holy, but what was I supposed to do? Homework was a part of life.
Then that night, I felt inspired that I would be blessed if I stopped doing homework on Sunday. I wasn’t sure how I would make it work; I felt like I was already busy with school and that giving up one day of studying would leave me even less prepared than I already felt. Then I thought of the scripture, “I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say; but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise” (D&C 82:10), and since I’d felt prompted that changing my homework pattern could help me with my concerns, I decided to not do homework on Sunday.
The following weekend I finished my homework by Saturday afternoon. I spent the evening watching a movie with friends, and I found it even more fun than before, since I didn’t have homework hanging over my head.
Sunday was simply wonderful. I felt no stress from uncompleted assignments. I was able to enjoy my Church meetings and spend the day pondering the scriptures and spending time with family and friends. Best of all, I was able to get to bed at a reasonable time and was well rested in the morning.
Deciding to not do homework on Sunday allowed me to break my habit of procrastination, and my grades were better than ever. I know Heavenly Father blessed me for making a better effort to keep the Sabbath day holy.

Renee was born in Haiti, a small country on an island in the Caribbean Sea. When she was eight years old, she and her mother moved to Utah to be closer to Renee’s aunts, uncles, and cousins.
After the move, Renee’s family and friends told her and her mother about the gospel. Soon the missionaries started teaching them.
At first, Renee wasn’t sure that she wanted to be baptized. Then one day the missionaries read something special from the Book of Mormon—words of the prophet Nephi. He said that baptism is like a gate to a path that leads to Heavenly Father. He also talked about the blessings of the gift of the Holy Ghost that come after baptism.
Renee felt a warm, happy feeling in her heart. She knew that she wanted to return to Heavenly Father. And she wanted the gift of the Holy Ghost. She thought that the Holy Ghost would be a good friend and companion to help her throughout her life. She and her mother were soon baptized.

While he was on a mission in Hawaii in 1854, President Joseph F. Smith lost most of his belongings in a fire. The fire destroyed his house, his books and journals, his clothing, and his trunk. All the belongings in his trunk were reduced to ashes except his missionary certificate. The certificate was scorched around the edges, but otherwise untouched—even though the book it was in was completely burned.
Since their clothes were destroyed in the fire, Elder Smith and his companion had to share a suit for a short while. One elder would wear the suit while the other waited at home for his turn to go to meetings. (Mission rules were a little different back then.)
There were many difficulties for Elder Smith on his mission—and not all of them as amusing as having to share a suit—but he said, “I am happy to say that I am ready to go through thick and thin for this cause in which I am engaged; and truly hope and pray that I may prove faithful to the end” (see Teachings of the Presidents of the Church: Joseph F. Smith, 76–77).

Photograph courtesy of Allie Bradford
I received my mission call in January to the Cape Verde Praia Mission! I’m really excited about my mission, but I was just as excited to be able to go through the temple and receive my endowment.
Both my bishop and my stake president reminded me that the temple is not merely a stepping-stone to the mission. The covenants I make in the temple are literally vital for my salvation; a mission is not.
I prepared to go to the temple by focusing on my baptismal covenants, reading the booklet Preparing to Enter the Holy Temple, reading my scriptures daily, and praying a lot. I felt like I was about as prepared as I could have been, without actually knowing specifically what was going to happen.
I feel like I’ve been preparing for my endowment my whole life. I wasn’t really nervous about it, even though I still didn’t know what to expect. I had my parents, other family members, and temple workers escorting me the whole time, so I was never alone.
Before I went to the temple, I got the same advice from a lot of people: Don’t worry about trying to learn or remember it all the first time, don’t stress about the symbolism, and don’t worry if you don’t understand everything; just focus on feeling the Spirit. That’s just what I did, and my first time in the temple was a very good experience. The Spirit was so strong.
The things that happen in the temple are different from the way we worship outside the temple. But the Spirit is the same, and that’s the most important thing. When we’re worthy and prepared to be there, we can truly feel God’s presence in His house. I’m so grateful that I’ve been able to receive my endowment and make those important covenants. I look forward to going back again and again.
Allie Bradford, 20, Utah, USA

Inspired by this, I asked my grandchild Raquel, who had recently learned how to read, “What would you say about setting a goal to read the Book of Mormon?”
Her answer was “But, Grandpa, it’s so hard. It’s a big book.”
Then I asked her to read me a page. I took out a stopwatch and timed her. I said, “You took only three minutes, and the Spanish version of the Book of Mormon has 642 pages, so you need 1,926 minutes.”
This could have scared her even more, so I divided that number by 60 minutes and told her she would need only 32 hours to read it—less than a day and a half!
Then she said to me, “That’s so easy, Grandpa.”
In the end, Raquel, her brother, Esteban, and our other grandchildren took more time than this because this is a book which needs to be read with a spirit of prayer and meditation.

My parents made family time a priority when my two sisters and I were children. Now that we’re adults, this continues as part of our family culture. The time we spend together is fun and filled with traditions such as races and games, with events including a tortilla toss and bubble-blowing competition.
Growing up, I gained confidence spending time with my family and felt I was vital. I felt my contributions were wanted and needed. However, shortly after I returned from my mission, spending time together changed. The reason: my older sister married a few months before I returned home.
I was happy for her and excited to have a brother for the first time. But I noticed my parents started to treat my younger sister and me differently. I felt that because I was not married, I was pushed aside and treated like a child. Eventually, I spoke with my parents about the changes in our family. We concluded that our individual situations have nothing to do with our worth. Everyone is essential in our family, regardless of age, gender, financial situation, talents, or marital status.
My mind opened to the idea that our Heavenly Father loves and appreciates us as individuals. Heavenly Father wants us to establish and nurture strong family relationships, but our individual worth does not come from our family. Because we are beloved children of God and part of His family, our worth is infinite and eternal. Jesus Christ demonstrated this by giving His life for each of us. (See Doctrine and Covenants 18:10–11.)

One day in Nauvoo, the Prophet Joseph Smith was in the yard, playing with his children Joseph and Frederick. A gentlemen in a carriage drove up to the gate, looking for him. Greeting the Prophet, the man drove his horse and carriage up to a tie post, but did not tie the horse up. Leaving the lines lying loose, he got out of his carriage and came up the steps of the house.
“Mister,” Joseph said, “I think you would do well to tie your horse; he might get a scare and run away and break your carriage.”
The gentleman, thinking he knew best, responded, “I have driven that horse for some years and never tie him. I am a doctor and cannot afford to tie him up at every place I call.”
Joseph persisted. “You had better tie him all the same. Your horse might get a scare and run away.”
The doctor told Joseph not to worry, that there would be no problems with his horse.
Entering the house, the men sat down to talk.
Within moments, the horse became startled. It bolted down the street, towing behind it the carriage. A wheel struck against a post, and pieces of the carriage were scattered for a block or more.
The doctor rushed to the street and saw the trail left by the frightened horse. He turned to Joseph and said, “I’ll be … if you aren’t a prophet.”3

Ryan and his family were so happy to arrive at their new home. They had been traveling for three days and were tired of being in the car. The moving van was soon unloaded, and the family worked hard together to get all of their things unpacked.
Ryan and his brother, Anthony, would be sharing a room. They carefully put away all of their clothes and toys. Ryan hung his favorite picture of Jesus over his dresser, where he could see it. The house was starting to feel like home.
A few days later, Ryan heard a strange sound coming from the kitchen. The old refrigerator they had brought with them was making a strange grinding noise. It smelled funny too.
“What’s the matter with our fridge, Mom?” Anthony asked.
“I think the motor is burning out,” Mom said.
By the time Dad got home from work that evening, the food in the freezer was starting to thaw.
Ryan could tell from the look on Dad’s face that he was worried.
“Dad, let’s just buy a new fridge,” Ryan suggested.
“That’s a great idea, but refrigerators are expensive,” Dad said. “We don’t have the money right now to buy a new one.”
“We could ask Heavenly Father to buy us a new one,” Ryan said.
Dad smiled and hugged Ryan.
“Ryan, why don’t we say a prayer and ask Heavenly Father for His help?” Mom said.
The family bowed their heads, and Ryan thanked Heavenly Father for their new home. He told Heavenly Father that their refrigerator was broken and asked Him for help to fix the problem.
In the morning, the refrigerator was not making strange noises or smelling funny anymore.
“Maybe Heavenly Father fixed our fridge,” Anthony said.
“Heavenly Father answers our prayers in different ways,” Mom said. “Maybe this is His answer.”
But by Friday the refrigerator sounded like it was about to stop working completely. Mom and Dad were worried, but Ryan said, “Heavenly Father always answers prayers.”
On Saturday the family was busy getting ready for Sunday. Mom folded clothes as the boys cleaned their room. Suddenly Dad announced that he was going to take the children for a walk. The children put on their shoes and left with Dad.
Fifteen minutes later, the children burst through the front door. “Mom!” Ryan shouted, “Dad bought a new fridge.”
Dad walked through the door with a big smile on his face. He explained to Mom that the neighbors up the street were having a yard sale and they were selling a nearly brand-new refrigerator—at a price Dad could afford. Dad had bought the refrigerator.
The neighbor helped Dad move the old refrigerator out and the new one in.
“Ryan, Heavenly Father answered our prayers,” Dad said. “He helped our old fridge run for a few more days. Then He helped us find a new refrigerator nearby. And He helped me earn just enough money to pay for it.”
“I know, Dad,” Ryan said. “Heavenly Father always answers our prayers.”
Ryan asked Dad if he could say another prayer. This time he wanted to thank Heavenly Father for the new refrigerator.

Mari and Jorma realized they were going counter to Finnish culture and tradition when they joined the Church. Yet they changed course in life and never looked back.

Mari and Jorma Alakoski know the road of conversion. In the years since joining the Church in their native Finland, they have served in various capacities, including Mari’s calling as an assistant temple matron and Jorma’s calling as counselor in the first temple presidency of the Helsinki Finland Temple.

But like many converts, they had to fight for their faith. When missionaries met them, a testimony didn’t come as easily to Mari as it did to her husband. At first, she was uncomfortable with the Book of Mormon and pushed it away by touching it as little as possible with only the tip of a finger.

Later, when she saw tears streaming down the cheeks of her husband while he read the Book of Mormon, she thought to herself, “If this book touches him so deeply, it must be valuable.”

Her resistance gradually softened, and she began her quest for truth. In time, she too shed tears when reading the Book of Mormon.

Mari and Jorma realized they were going counter to culture and tradition when they joined the Church. Yet they abruptly changed course in life and never looked back. “The Church brought great contentment into our lives. I almost think that everything was too good to be true. We were received very kindly in the congregation,” Mari says.

“A lot of new things suddenly came into our lives,” she says. Sundays were no longer leisure times but packed with Church meetings, which were held three times throughout the Sabbath day at that time. “This required dressing the children for each meeting and timing their meals and naps.”

Every day of the week required time for gospel-related activities and meetings, whether home evening, Relief Society, or Primary. “On Saturday, we prepared food and clothes for Sunday,” Mari says.

Tha Alakoskis didn’t make a grand announcement when they joined the Church, but their family and friends gradually came to know. “Not everyone understood our decision,” Mari recalls. “A few friends stopped talking to us. But that was a small price to pay for all the precious things that came into our lives. Nothing and no one could influence us to abandon the Church. My father, after learning about our conversion, settled any discord when he said, ‘Let them do as they see fit. They are grown people. They know what they want to do.’”

In time, the couple desired to be sealed. They planned, sacrificed, and traveled two days by bus and one night by ship through Sweden and Germany. They finally arrived at the Bern Switzerland Temple, the only temple in Europe at the time.

The Alakoskis are an example of those who receive a witness of the gospel and forge ahead, much like Nephi, not knowing everything beforehand but following the Spirit (see 1 Nephi 4:6). They took cues from fellow members to learn the doctrine and how to apply the gospel to their lives. When they didn’t know something, they studied or asked for more direction.

As the Saints moved across the plains, their care for each other was organized in “companies.” One of my paternal great-grandfathers was returning from his mission in what is now Oklahoma when he met a company on the trail. He was so weak with disease that he and his companion were on their backs in a little wagon.
The leader of the company sent two young women to help whoever might be in that forlorn wagon. One of them, a young sister who had been converted in Switzerland, took a look at one of the missionaries and felt compassion. He was saved by that company of Saints. He recovered enough to walk the rest of the way to the Salt Lake Valley with his young rescuer by his side. They fell in love and married. He became my great-grandfather Henry Eyring, and she my great-grandmother Maria Bommeli Eyring.
Years later, when people remarked at the great difficulty of moving across a continent, she said, “Oh no, it wasn’t hard. While we walked, we talked the whole way about what a miracle it was that we had both found the true gospel of Jesus Christ. It was the happiest time I can remember.”

I used to feel like my mom didn’t understand me. It seemed that all she cared about were her rules. How could she understand me? She had never done anything wrong in her life.
I decided I could do better without her, so I started to define myself in opposition to her. She always wore nice skirts and dresses. I always wore big, shabby jeans. She followed rules of etiquette meticulously. I ignored them. She did everything she could to invite the Spirit into our home. I listened to counter-culture music. She worked to avoid even the appearance of evil. I hung out with kids who were in trouble, and even though I wasn’t participating in their serious transgressions, Mom knew I was on the edge.
My mom spent many rough nights worrying about me. One night she got up to check on me and found a pile of pillows shaped like a sleeping form beneath my open window. When I got home after my mom had spent a long night calling my friends, the police, and anyone else she could think of, I was told I was grounded until further notice.
Soon after, feeling angry and rebellious, I found myself in the principal’s office at school. Knowing that I could identify the culprits of a recent prank, he explained to me that if I didn’t tell him who the guilty party was he would suspend me instead of them. I defiantly kept silent. So he called my mom and told her I would be staying home the next day.
This time she was really angry. While waiting for me to come home and considering an appropriate punishment, she was getting a box out of storage in our unfinished attic. Distracted, she took a wrong step between the beams, which sent her crashing through the insulation, drywall, and plaster of the ceiling onto the floor of the dining room below. Still gathering her bearings in that painful pile of rubble, the thought came to her: your relationship with Michelle is this sensitive right now. One wrong step and the floor will fall out from under you and will be permanently damaged.
When I got home from school, I expected a lecture. Instead, when Mom greeted me, she gently showed me what had happened and explained that she loved me and that she had been prompted to take special care of our relationship and needed my help. I looked at her legs, black and blue from the ankles up and covered with some fierce looking scrapes. All I could think was how amazing it was that as the ceiling gave way beneath her, her first thought was for me. Even I was humbled. We prayed together for help to learn to love and accept.
It wasn’t easy. I really had to work to change my attitude. Looking back, I realize that, all along, she only had my welfare in mind. I eventually found out that Mom was a really fun person. We looked for ways to spend time together in positive situations, doing things we both enjoyed. I learned to allow her to function in roles other than disciplinarian. And most importantly, I learned to change my perspective. Instead of being embarrassed by our “old-fashioned” home, I came to love bringing friends over. I finally realized that I was equally responsible for the success of our relationship.
I guess I’m the one who should have fallen through the ceiling, but I doubt I would have heard the Spirit at the crucial moment. I’ll always be grateful for a mother willing to love me into loving her.

The hot Venetian sun fills the upstairs room where the teenagers are discussing their upcoming activities. They’re using hesitant, mispronounced Italian, broken English, and some French, so the communication can’t help but break down.
Finally, one of the American boys turns to an Italian boy and translates into German. “Capito!” (understood), the boy replies, and the Young Men/Young Women group continues their discussion.
In September 1985 the Venice Italy Stake was created and the Vicenza Italian Branch and American Serviceman’s Branch were united to become the Vicenza Ward. Together, the youth of the ward are striving to strengthen their testimonies, grow in the gospel, and become united while overcoming language, cultural, and national barriers that in many parts of the world could seem insurmountable.
Vicenza is in northern Italy, where cultures have been blending and languages have been mixing, not for centuries but for millennia. In the shadow of the Alps, on the site of an ancient Roman camp not far from the Brenner Pass into northern Europe, Vicenza has been a trading area and cultural melting pot since the third century B.C.
Vicenza was first conquered by Romans, then by barbarians sweeping out of northern Europe to topple the Roman Empire, then by several medieval city-states, and then absorbed by the Venetian Republic in the 14th century. In the 1800s, it was conquered by Napoleon, then controlled by Austria until it became part of the new Italian nation in 1848.
The young men and women of the new Vicenza Ward are like the city itself, a montage of backgrounds, personalities, and nationalities. There are Americans whose fathers are stationed at a nearby military base, Italians from several areas of the country, and a German-American family. The youth are enthusiastic and bi- or tri-lingual, and strive to bridge the communication gap that separates them as much as the cultural differences.
With such diverse backgrounds and languages, Church lessons are different and more condensed than they are in a typical ward. When a missionary is not available to translate a lesson, one of the youth may try to help. But since the young people are more familiar with colloquial terms or schoolbook Italian or English, translating gospel concepts can be quite a challenge.
Some of the newer and younger youth find it difficult as well as distracting to wait for the translation, and they lose their train of thought. The older students, however, most of whom are studying languages, find this a challenge and a benefit.
“I really like how it helps me learn English better,” says Denis Evolani, a 15-year-old who is fluent in German and French and is currently studying English.
Most of the Americans are studying Italian, but many of them are new to Italy and don’t understand much. “I wonder sometimes why I can’t stay where I want to be, where I can understand the language,” says Donna Kennedy, whose family recently arrived in Italy. “But though it’s difficult now, I know that when I leave I’ll wish I didn’t have to.”
Athena Dayley, a senior at the American High School, is often the translator for the Young Women. She finds it challenging but fun. “It is so neat to be able to talk to someone in another language,” Athena says, “but translating at church is really hard, and I get flustered at times and can’t remember what is being said or comprehend the meaning of what I’m translating. All I’m doing is parroting words.”
But the youth have discovered that sometimes spiritual moments transcend the language barrier.
“I seldom cry at movies,” Athena says, “but at girls’ camp the Spirit was so strong that even if I couldn’t understand the words, I couldn’t help but have tears in my eyes.”
American Marc Dayley, 15, who attended the Young Men camp in the Alps, agrees. “You can feel the Spirit so strongly when someone is speaking about the Church, even if you can’t understand the words,” Marc explained. “Listening to other testimonies at camp really strengthened my own.”
The youth activities are very difficult to plan because school schedules for the Italian and American nationalities are very different. The Italian youth go to school six days a week, from 8:30 to 12:30, while the Americans attend school on post five days a week, 8:30–3:30, with many extracurricular activities and sports lasting until 6:30.
The Italians observe “riposo,” when shops and businesses close from 12:30 to 4:00, then reopen until 7:30, and the people often enjoy activities from 8:00 to 11:00 P.M., when most Americans are studying. Stake youth activities are often scheduled on Italian holidays, when American students must go to school. The large boundaries of the stake force many youth to commute an hour by train, so it is very difficult to schedule seminary or activities during the week.
“There are not as many youth activities here as in the States,” says Marc. “But I like the ward dances we have had where we’ve invited other youth from the stake, even if it’s more challenging to flirt with girls in a foreign language.”
Some activities, like volleyball, soccer, dancing, and camping, are universal, and can be enjoyed equally by all; while others, like scripture chases, Church knowledge games, and drama, are far more difficult because of the language problems. Food is another thing. Some youth are hesitant to try pumpkin pie, hot dogs, pizza romano (with anchovies), and other foods that may look or taste different. Yet they usually try some of everything and generally admit they like it “a little.”
These youth enjoy an opportunity to live in Europe and to gain an appreciation of another culture, whether it is the Americans viewing priceless Renaissance art or the Italians learning to play football. But they admit that it’s hard at times to be a member of the Church in Italy.
“In the States, most people know what the standards of the Church are, so it’s easier there,” Donna explains. “Here there are more temptations because they don’t know automatically what you stand for or what to expect from you.”
“It’s hard here,” Athena adds. “School activities are set up on Sunday and everyone plays soccer and goes to the movies. Here you’ve got to set your own standards for yourself and stand by them. It has strengthened my testimony.”
But despite the challenges, the youth are growing in unity, not just as a ward youth group but as citizens of the world. This was brought home forcibly to the young women when they participated in an activity that was conducted worldwide. They tied their written testimonies to balloons and released them into the Italian skies.
“I thought of all my friends in Arizona,” Donna said, “and I felt close to them, even though we are far away.”
Living in the mission field, or anywhere in the world as a Mormon youth, is not always easy, nor is gaining a testimony and understanding other cultures and people. But in the Vicenza Ward, the youth are learning to help each other by appreciating each other’s differences and reveling in their similarities.

A woman whose marriage was threatened by her husband’s addiction to pornography wrote how she stood beside him for five pain-filled years until, as she said, “through the gift of our precious Savior’s glorious Atonement and what He taught me about forgiveness, [my husband] finally is free—and so am I.” As one who needed no cleansing from sin, but only sought a loved one’s deliverance from captivity, she wrote this advice:
“Commune with the Lord. … He is your best friend! He knows your pain because He has felt it for you already. He is ready to carry that burden. Trust Him enough to place it at His feet and allow Him to carry it for you. Then you can have your anguish replaced with His peace, in the very depths of your soul” (letter dated Apr. 18, 2005).

I remember one of the last sacrament meetings my father ever attended. After fighting cancer for a year, my dad was reaching the end of his life. The opening hymn that day at church was “Come, Come, Ye Saints” (Hymns, no. 30).
I peered down the row to look at my dad. He was crying. I moved down the bench to sit next to him and asked him if he was crying because of the pain or the song. As we sang, “And should we die before our journey’s through,” he looked straight into my eyes, and I knew that he was leaving us.
Now it brings me peace when I finish the rest of the song: “Happy day! All is well! We then are free from toil and sorrow, too; With the just we shall dwell!” This song of comfort is part of my father’s legacy to me.

Most of the time Ben liked to share. He liked to share Daddy’s toast and Mom’s cookie. He liked to share Mike’s football and Anne’s book. He liked to share Max’s wagon.
But Ben did not like to share his cool cars, not even with Max. “Mine!” Ben said.
Ben filled his hands and pockets with cool cars. He hid them in the corner and under the couch pillows. If Max wanted to play with him, Ben felt angry. “My cool cars!”
One day Mom pulled Ben onto her lap. She gave him a hug and a kiss. “Does Daddy share his toast with you?” Mom asked.
“Yes,” Ben said.
“Does Mommy share her cookie with you?”
“Yes.”
“Does Anne share her book and does Mike share his football with you?”
“Yes.”
“When you play with Max, does he share his wagon?”
“Yes.”
“When we share with you, we feel happy. You feel happy too,” Mom said. “If you share your cool cars with Max, you will feel happy, and Max will feel happy. You can play together, and you won’t feel angry anymore.”
Ben stayed on Mom’s lap for a minute. Then he got down and took two of his cars out of his pocket. He gave one to Max. Ben smiled, and Max smiled. Ben didn’t feel angry anymore. Sharing made him feel happy.

When I was 10 years old, I was exposed to pornography. After that, I became heavily involved in it for two years. When I was 12, my mother decided to have a family home evening on the law of chastity. I realized during this family home evening that I had a problem and that it was unhealthy and wrong. I told my mother about it, and she helped me get rid of the pornographic materials I had. Later that week, I received a blessing from my bishop.
For the next three years, I tried to stop using pornography, but I kept having relapses. One night when I was 16, I was struggling especially hard. I remember falling to my knees and praying for help, because I knew that when we have challenges, we need to pray to Heavenly Father for all things. During my prayer, I received peace and strength.
I then had the idea to fill my time with something good to replace the temptation. I started to work diligently on Personal Progress. As I did, I felt my Savior’s love. Heavenly Father helped me to vigorously focus on Personal Progress instead of pornography. The more I focused on the teachings of Jesus Christ in my Personal Progress, the more I became resistant to the temptations of pornography.
Heavenly Father also helped me in other ways during my struggle. He helped me realize that I couldn’t go on the computer alone or else I would be tempted to search for pornography. I decided that when I wanted to use the internet, I would use the computers at a nearby public library instead of the devices at home so that I would always be surrounded by people.
With the help of the Lord, I finished my Personal Progress and received my Young Womanhood Recognition. I felt so good and proud and thankful to my Heavenly Father for helping me to get this far. My relationship with the Lord felt so strong because I had relied on Him for so much help. Eventually, having become clean and strong, I went on to serve a mission.
Heavenly Father is willing to help us with our righteous desires if we ask Him. I know how important it is to use the grace of Jesus Christ’s Atonement at all times. If we desire to overcome our weaknesses and turn to God, He will help us.

Young women in Cincinnati, Ohio, joined with young women in Reading, England, to do something to comfort the families of 16 young children killed in a shooting at their school in Scotland last winter. But what could they do or say from so far away and with limited resources? They decided that a message of sympathy and a short testimony of the plan of salvation would be the very best gift they could give to anyone who was grieving, whether they were across the ocean or right next door.
“Helping out the families that lost their beloved children by writing small notes of sympathy was an experience that really strengthened my testimony of the gospel,” says Beehive Tara Swift. “It made me realize that I am very lucky to have the truth of the gospel, to know that I can be with my family forever and not just for a short period of time on earth.”
The town of Dunblane, Scotland, plans to tear down the gymnasium where the children were shot and put a memorial park in its place. The girls have pooled their loose change and sent the money to be donated in purchasing a memorial item, perhaps a tree or some flowers, to be placed in the park.

The first time I experienced the power of the Book of Mormon in the life of a convert, I was serving as a missionary in France. My British companion and I spent much of our time knocking on doors—with few results. One afternoon a distinguished, middle-aged lady opened her door. She had little time for us that day, but we left a Book of Mormon and made an appointment to return two days later. When we returned to her apartment and the door opened, I felt a powerful spiritual feeling. She was eager to see us. She had been reading the book and had experienced the powerful feelings of the Holy Ghost. She spoke of her joy and peace. She was prepared for whatever course we as the Lord’s servants would invite her to take.
It was in the cold of February. Our city had no chapel, so we installed a portable baptismal font in an old wooden barn. The steam from the warm water filled the air. The humble members of the branch surrounded the portable font as this sister climbed up the stairs and then down into the water to be baptized a member of the Church.
The peace expressed by this wonderful sister echoed the words of Parley P. Pratt (1807–57) as he spoke about his first encounter with the Book of Mormon: “As I read, the spirit of the Lord was upon me, and I knew and comprehended that the book was true, as plainly and manifestly as a man comprehends and knows that he exists.”

Normandie Luscher, 29, a Master of Fine Arts student in Maryland, USA, uses her artwork for good. “I’ve been focusing a lot over the last couple of years on the most important commandment, to love God and to love our neighbor,” she explains. “In my artwork I’ve been focusing on telling stories. We can really learn how to be compassionate and love our neighbors more by listening to them and hearing their stories.”
A self-proclaimed “idea person,” Normandie brings people together for good in many ways. A school project led her to put on a fundraiser for a local women’s shelter: a gallery show featuring paintings she created telling the story of Job through a woman’s perspective. “Other women came and shared their stories and their experiences,” she explains. “And I thought that was a really powerful thing.”
Another idea Normandie pursued was for a collaborate zine (a self-published or online magazine). She reached out to other artists, and together they told Book of Mormon stories through the lens of contemporary art.
Personally, Normandie has found that she can be an influence for good by opening up to others. “I’ve been working on developing the courage to be vulnerable and share my own experiences and perspectives. Art is about being honest and sharing ideas. So in terms of being a force for good, I’m just trying to embrace those ideas of being honest and courageous and reaching out to other people and communicating through visual art.”
She encourages other young adults to develop courage to do good too. “Don’t be afraid of not being able to do enough,” she says. “I think a lot of people get overwhelmed with, ‘There’s nothing that I can do,’ and falling into that fallacy prevents so much good from being done. Don’t be afraid. Be courageous to move forward and to act.”