Gospel Story Finder

One day after Garibaldi had been fighting for a town in Brazil, he saw a beautiful young woman named Anita. A bond of love was formed between them the first time they met, and the young couple eloped a few nights after their first meeting. Anita’s love for freedom of nations equaled that of her husband. She fought beside him in South America and later in Italy.

Recently I read the true account of a dramatic manifestation concerning these promises. A faithful member of the Church, John A. Larsen, served during World War II in the United States Coast Guard on the ship USS Cambria. During a battle in the Philippines, word came of an approaching squadron of bombers and kamikaze fighter planes. Orders were given for immediate evacuation. Since the USS Cambria was already gone, John and three companions gathered their gear and hurried to the beach, hoping for a lift out to one of the departing ships. Fortunately, a landing craft picked them up and sped toward the last ship leaving the bay. The men on that departing ship, in an effort to evacuate as quickly as possible, were busy on deck and had time only to throw ropes to the four men, that they might hopefully be able to climb to the deck.
John, with a heavy radio strapped to his back, found himself dangling at the end of a 40-foot (12 m) rope, at the side of a ship headed out to the open sea. He began pulling himself up, hand over hand, knowing that if he lost his grip, he would almost certainly perish. After climbing only a third of the way, he felt his arms burning with pain. He had become so weak that he felt he could no longer hold on.
With his strength depleted, as he grimly contemplated his fate, John silently cried unto God, telling Him that he had always kept the Word of Wisdom and had lived a clean life—and he now desperately needed the promised blessings.
John later said that as he finished his prayer, he felt a great surge of strength. He began climbing once again and fairly flew up the rope. When he reached the deck, his breathing was normal and not the least bit labored. The blessings of added health and stamina promised in the Word of Wisdom had been his. He gave thanks to his Heavenly Father then, and throughout the remainder of his life, for the answer to his desperate prayer for help.

Margaret sat on the front veranda and eagerly watched the shimmering blue sky for signs of a small silver plane with The Kookaburra written in red letters on each side. She knew that Kaye would be watching from the plane just as eagerly, straining to see the solitary house and stockyards belonging to Margaret’s family in the vast outback of Western Australia. Margaret had heard Kaye’s voice many times on the two-way radio set that brought the School of the Air into their homes. They had also exchanged letters and pictures. But she had never seen Kaye, and now Father was bringing her from her family’s neighboring station (ranch) over a hundred miles away.
Margaret heard the hum of the plane before she spotted it in the sky. She jumped and ran to their small runway, waving her white handkerchief. Then, when she finally saw Kaye, she felt overcome with shyness and hugged her lean, sun-browned father tightly.
"Well, Marg, I’ve brought you a friend," he said. "This is Kaye." He pulled both girls close to him, one on each side. "I reckon you two can be real mates (friends)."
Margaret and Kaye smiled shyly at each other as the three of them walked to the house. It wasn’t until they lay in bed that night that they began to really talk to each other and make plans for their week together. They decided to go on a walkabout (walking tour) the following afternoon down the dry riverbed.
Right after lunch the next day, the two girls set out on their walkabout. Margaret’s mother had put fruit and biscuits (cookies) into a dilly (mesh fiber) bag. "You’d better take jumpers (sweaters)," she called as they stepped off the veranda. Margaret looked up at the hot November sky and sighed. "It can change," Mother said, handing them each a jumper. "Besides, you can sit on them to eat."
The girls tied the jumpers around their waists and started off. The sun was stifling, and they were glad to walk in the shade of the giant eucalyptus trees that lined the riverbed. Peeling bark hung from the trees, leaving smooth white trunks exposed.
"Look at that," Margaret said. They stopped and looked at a dead gum tree full of galahs. Suddenly the birds took flight, a pink and gray cloud rising and fluttering into the sky.
Kaye stared at the birds. "That was beautiful," she said. "Do you like living in the outback, Margaret?"
"I’ve lived here all my life, so I don’t really know what it’s like anywhere else. It’s very lonely here at times, but there’s a lot to do. Do you like it?"
"We lived in Adelaide until last year, and I miss my friends and all. I get lonely, too, but when I see beautiful things like those birds, then I like it—or when I can be with a friend like you."
The girls smiled at each other and clasped hands as they skipped through the rocks and sand.
Suddenly Margaret stopped. "Listen, I know a place that you’d really like. It has a pool and big red cliffs where lots of swallows have their nests."
"Is it far?"
"Not too far. I went there in the plane with my father, but we were just up and down again. As we came down, we could still see our house. Let’s see …" Margaret looked back to where their house stood among the trees. "I think that if we walk straight north toward that hilly area, we’ll come to it."
"Let’s do it!" Kaye exclaimed happily.
They left the riverbed and struck out across the sand. The afternoon sun beat down on them, and the hills were still quite far away.
"It’s farther than I thought," Margaret said.
"It always is," Kaye answered, "but let’s go on. It can’t be too much farther if you could still see your house."
Just as their search seemed hopeless, they came to the top of a hill and saw the red cliffs. "This is it!" Margaret cried. They ran down the hill and into the small canyon formed by the cliffs, sat down in the pleasant shade of a gum tree, and quickly removed their shoes and stockings. Soon they were dangling their feet in the cool water of the pool. Margaret opened the dilly bag and handed a juicy orange to Kaye.
"It’s as beautiful as you said," Kaye declared, as a busy swallow darted in and out of rock crevices, dipping toward the water and soaring up again.
After they had eaten and rested, they climbed through the rocks and explored the small canyon. Suddenly Margaret looked at the sky and felt her heart lurch within her. "Kaye, look! It’s getting dark."
The girls scrambled quickly and silently over the rocks, both knowing how rapidly night could come. But before they reached the pool, total darkness had fallen—without any dusk at all! With no moon, only the white trunks of the gum trees were visible. Margaret shivered with fear. She had hardly been outside her house after dark, much less alone in the bush.
"What should we do?" Kaye asked.
"Let’s put our jumpers on," Margaret said, trying to sound calm. They pulled on the wool jumpers, grateful for the warmth against the night’s chill.
"Can we make it home in this darkness?" Kaye asked.
"I don’t think so. We could lose our sense of direction in the hills and wander far off or step into a rabbit hole and sprain an ankle." Margaret’s heart pounded harder as she talked. She knew that Kaye expected her to know what to do, and every minute she felt more terrified.
"If we climbed a hill, maybe we could see the lights of your house. You said you could see it from here."
"That was from up in the air. No, the gum trees in the riverbed would block them out," Margaret said.
The girls sat close together on a rock in the dark wilderness. Eerie sounds of night birds sent chills down Margaret’s spine. She didn’t know what to say or do. It surprised her when Kaye spoke.
"The first thing that we should do," Kaye said firmly, "is pray."
"Pray?" Margaret asked. She had never prayed. Her family had never prayed.
"Let’s kneel down," Kaye said.
Margaret felt a little awkward, but she knelt in the sand and listened while Kaye said a prayer. Talking to Heavenly Father the way Margaret talked to her earthly father, Kaye explained how they couldn’t get home, asked for protection, and asked what they should do. When she finished, they both knelt there very quietly for a time. Margaret started to shiver, her teeth chattering, but her friend seemed to be waiting and thinking.
Kaye pushed her hand into the sand. "Feel how warm it is from the hot sun during the day," she said. "Let’s take a rock and dig out a shallow hole. We can lie in it and sleep. In the morning your father will come looking for us in his plane."
Margaret was amazed that Kaye could sound so calm and confident about spending the night in the bush. And it did sound like a good plan.
They felt around for flat stones and dug out their bed. Then they lay down together, their jumpers pulled close around them. Margaret stopped shivering, and she felt rather warm and cozy. Her fear began to leave her too. She was puzzled about Kaye, a city girl rather new in the outback. Yet she had known what to do when Margaret herself had felt paralyzed with fear. She would have to ask Kaye more about prayer. Margaret looked up once more into the dense, star-filled sky, then fell sound asleep.
A loud chorus of hysterical laughter awakened both girls in the morning. When they opened their eyes to the gray light, they saw that the gum trees were filled with kookaburras greeting the day with their strange laughter.
Suddenly, above the sound of the birds, Margaret heard the drone of an engine. They looked at each other and smiled. Then they jumped out of their bed in the sand and waved their jumpers at the silver plane with red letters, circling above them.

I would like to tell you a story of an excellent athlete—a young man with superb character. He never went to the Olympics, but he stands as tall as any Olympian because he was honest with himself and with his God.
The account is told by a coach in a junior high school. He states:
“Today was test day in climbing the rope. We climb from a standing start to a point 15 feet high. [My job is] to train and teach the boys to negotiate this distance in as few seconds as possible.
“The school record for the event is 2.1 seconds. It has stood for three years. Today this record was broken. …
“For three years Bobby Polacio, a 14 1/2-year-old ninth-grade … boy, [trained and worked, consumed by his dream] of breaking this record.
“In his first of three attempts, Bobby climbed the rope in 2.1 seconds, tying the record. On the second try the watch stopped at 2.0 seconds flat, a record! But as he descended the rope and the entire class gathered around to check the watch, I knew I must ask Bobby a question. There was a slight doubt in my mind whether or not the board at the 15-foot height had been touched. If he missed, it was so very, very close—not more than a fraction of an inch—and only Bobby knew this answer.
“As he walked toward me, expressionless, I said, ‘Bobby, did you touch?’ If he had said, ‘Yes,’ the record he had dreamed of since he was a skinny seventh-grader and had worked for almost daily would be his, and he knew I would trust his word.
“With the class already cheering him for his performance, the slim, brown-skinned boy shook his head negatively. And in this simple gesture, I witnessed a moment of greatness. …
“… And it was with effort through a tight throat that I told the class: ‘This boy has not set a record in the rope climb. No, he has set a much finer record for you and everyone to strive for. He has told the … truth.’
“I turned to Bobby and said, ‘Bobby, I’m proud of you. You’ve just set a record many athletes never attain. Now, in your last try I want you to jump a few inches higher on the takeoff.’ …
“After the other boys had finished their next turns, and Bobby came up … for his try, a strange stillness came over the gymnasium. Fifty boys and one coach [watched] breathlessly [as] Bobby Polacio … climbed the rope in 1.9 seconds! A school record, a city record, and perhaps close to a national record for a junior high school boy.
“When the bell rang and I walked away, … I was thinking: ‘Bobby, … at 14 you are a better man than I. Thank you for climbing so very, very high today.’”

Five days before I was due to leave Czechoslovakia for home, President Winder informed me that President Gordon B. Hinckley of the First Presidency would be visiting Czechoslovakia and holding a meeting in Brno, 160 kilometers from Prague. President Winder asked if I would attend the meeting and act as an interpreter for President Hinckley. I accepted, and with Ilona, I drove to Brno.
That meeting was a highlight of my visit. With President was Sister Hinckley, and President Hans B. Ringger, president of the Europe Area, with Sister Ringger, President and Sister Winder, and my brothers and sisters in the gospel. President Hinckley understood how nervous I was, acting as his interpreter and translating Church terminology into Czech, and he was very considerate. It was a very spiritual experience for us all. My sister didn’t take her eyes off of him, and her face shone at me from the congregation.

Three LDS youths from Bangor, Maine, recently spent three weeks in Rumania as part of a concert band tour.
Mari Lou Alexa, 16, a French horn player, and trumpeters Randall Dow, 16, and Bart Sloat, 15, all of Dover-Foxcroft, Maine, are members of the 100-member Foxcroft Academy Concert Band. The group performed nine scheduled concerts and many informal shows in the streets of Rumania.
The band was selected by a nonprofit organization known as Ambassadors for Friendship, which represents a cross-section of young Americans.
Mari Lou, Randall, and Bart are active in the Dover Ward, Augusta Maine Stake.

The second of four boys in his family, Elder Wilcox was five years old when his father decided that he wanted to have something useful for his boys to do. “My father moved us out of the city,” Elder Wilcox recollected, “and into a nice home in the country, situated on two acres near Mt. Olympus in Holladay, Utah. We had an alfalfa field, lawns to mow, and a cow, chickens, and a currant patch to tend. There were plenty of chores to keep us boys busy, and I’m grateful to my parents for providing that good environment for us.

One of my cherished Christmas memories, though brief yet joyful, was a Pyjama Christmas Day. The moment the kids woke up, they jumped on my bed and rolled around; we were hugging and laughing and wishing each other Merry Christmas. These few minutes are one of the most precious memories for me. There was no rush to go anywhere. It was a day of feeling relaxed, with no pressure to do anything.

Elder Johnson’s grandfather, Joseph William ‘Billy’ Johnson, living in Ghana, was introduced to the Church of Jesus Christ and the Book of Mormon in 1964. He immediately began preaching the gospel and starting congregations, independent of the Church of Jesus Christ. Within a short period of time, Johnson’s followers in Ghana reached over 500 individuals meeting in 10 separate congregations. Johnson pleaded with Church leaders in Salt Lake to send missionaries. President David O. McKay (1873–1970) told him they would not send missionaries yet, but that Johnson should wait patiently for the right time.

In 1977, four different denominations tried to persuade Johnson to have his congregations become part of their churches and offered him money to do so. Johnson declined their offers. The next year, President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) made the announcement that extended the priesthood to all worthy male members of the Church regardless of race or color. Johnson was overjoyed when he heard the news and prayed that the time for waiting was over.

President Kimball called missionaries Rendell N. Mabey and Rachel Mabey and sent them to Ghana. In December of 1978, just a few months after the announcement, Elder Mabey baptized Brother Johnson in the ocean near Cape Coast, Ghana. He was ordained as a priest and called as the first branch president in Ghana. He later became the first district president.

The Mabey’s served in Ghana and Nigeria until October 1979. Billy Johnson served the Church faithfully until his death in 2012. The branches that they helped organize together formed the nucleus of the early Church in West Africa. Currently there are 465,000 members of the Church in West Africa with 141 stakes and many districts. There are 21 missions with 3 new missions opening in July. The Accra Ghana and Abu Nigeria temples are currently operating and there are three temples under construction and five other temples announced in West Africa.

I submitted my mission papers when I turned 19, but due to complications I waited for over a year before receiving my call and beginning my service mission—on Monday 3 May 2021. I am the first service missionary in the Poole Stake. When I was called, I had mixed emotions, feeling excited but also quite nervous.

When I was eight, I saw the prophet, President David O. McKay (1873–1970). He came to dedicate a new Church building in Palmyra, New York, USA. My family went to the dedication. A lot of other people came too. We were all excited to see the prophet!
I was pretty small, so it was hard for me to see around all the people. But I could still feel President McKay’s love. For just a minute, I saw his white hair and his kind face. I thought, “This is what a prophet of God looks like.” I had read about prophets in the scriptures, but this was my first time seeing a prophet or any General Authority in person. I realized that prophets are real people. And they love us! I’ll always remember the love and peace I felt that day.

What do you get when you combine a small airplane with an overwhelmed mother and an irritable little boy? A very stressful situation. From a few rows behind, I watched the drama unfold. It went something like this:
Little boy: I’m hungry!
Mother: Well, let’s look in my purse and see what I have.
Little boy: Nooooo!
Mother: But aren’t you hungry?
Little boy: Give me that!
Mother: Give you what?
Little boy: Thaaaat!
Mother: Honey, you can’t have my necklace.
Little boy: I want it!
You get the idea. Over the next 20 minutes, the mother used a range of tactics to try to calm him down: bribery, diversion, humor, even one or two mild threats. Nothing worked. “It’s only a short flight,” I reminded myself. “She’ll be OK.”
But she wasn’t OK. Her stress was mounting, and she began wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. Although I didn’t know her, I felt drawn to help her. Reflexively, I started praying for them both.
I wasn’t the only passenger affected by the scene. Just as the strain on her emotions peaked, another passenger came to her aid. She was a much older woman, seated immediately across the aisle. Radiating kindness, she turned to the young mother, quietly spoke a few reassuring words, and took her hand. That was it. And that was enough.
These two women held hands across the aisle throughout the remainder of the flight. Although the little boy continued to rant with spectacular intensity, his mother appeared serene. It was a miracle.

How do we hallow the Sabbath day? In my much younger years, I studied the work of others who had compiled lists of things to do and things not to do on the Sabbath. It wasn’t until later that I learned from the scriptures that my conduct and my attitude on the Sabbath constituted a sign between me and my Heavenly Father. With that understanding, I no longer needed lists of dos and don’ts. When I had to make a decision whether or not an activity was appropriate for the Sabbath, I simply asked myself, “What sign do I want to give to God?” That question made my choices about the Sabbath day crystal clear.

At a solemn assembly held in the Kirtland Temple on April 6, 1837, the Prophet Joseph Smith said, “After all that has been said, the greatest and most important duty is to preach the Gospel.”1
Almost precisely seven years later, on April 7, 1844, he declared: “The greatest responsibility in this world that God has laid upon us is to seek after our dead. The apostle says, ‘They without us cannot be made perfect’ [see Hebrews 11:40]; for it is necessary that the sealing power should be in our hands to seal our children and our dead for the fulness of the dispensation of times—a dispensation to meet the promises made by Jesus Christ before the foundation of the world for the salvation of man.”2

This Saturday morning, youth from the Richmond Ward are spread out in five different locations around the city. The first stop is a small house in the middle of Richmond. Fourteen-year-old Zack Harton and his friend Will Jones are stationed here, raking leaves, pulling weeds, and having fun.
Zack doesn’t personally know the family his group is helping, but he does know that this family is investigating the Church. Therefore, he knows that he’s also setting an example. “It makes me feel good because I’m helping someone in need—just as I would help my own brother and sister if they needed help,” Zack says.
His friend Will is also investigating the Church and is glad that Zack invited him to come along today. Will has already caught on to the wonderful feeling that comes from service. “I feel that I have an obligation toward other people,” Will says. “I started coming with Zack to Scouts and never knew it was going to get into this. But I just think it’s wonderful that somebody would care enough to do this. While we were working in the yard, everyone would help one another. You didn’t even have to ask. I could feel God around me.”

The Littlest Duckling A quiet story of four ducklings’ day. On their way home from the pond, the littlest duckling follows the wrong “mother,” but ends up with his family. Lovely, simple art.Gail Herman2–4 years

Our ward had enough riding enthusiasts to get the outlaw band more or less mounted. We had purebred stallions, ancient hay burners, a Shetland pony, and one reluctant donkey. He was the only member of the cast who didn’t think it was a good idea. We first noticed this lack of enthusiasm when we had to drag him stiff-legged down the road behind my Volkswagen to load him on a truck. If you’ve got 53 horsepower on one end of the rope and one donkey power on the other, you’ve got a toss-up contest that could go either way. But we finally won.
We loaded him and the rest of the horses and outlaws and headed for the hills.

Lidia trudged up the long farm lane, not even turning to wave to her friends still on the school bus. Her mind was too heavy with her problem: What can I possibly find between now and tomorrow morning to take to the class auction? As if a new language, a new school, and new friends were not difficulties enough, now she would have to go empty-handed to the auction.
Her problem was instantly forgotten, however, when she opened the cottage door and saw a letter on the floor. Mr. Williams, the owner of the farm where her parents both worked, must have pushed it under the door. It bore an official-looking return address, and it had a Red Cross emblem in the upper left-hand corner. She knew that she would have to be patient until her parents came home for supper; then she would read it to them. Without the advantage of school, which Lidia had in this new country, her parents’ knowledge of English was still scanty.
If only the letter contained some good news about her uncle! Lidia propped the envelope up against the only ornament on the bureau, a little blue glass pony. As her fingers touched the figurine, she prayed fervently that it would soon be reunited with its mate, the one that used to sit by its side in their house in Poland. When they had sadly made plans to leave their beleaguered country and go to America, not knowing when—or even if—they might meet again, the two Jelinek brothers had each taken one of the glass ponies, praying that they would be together again one day.
Mr. Williams, who admired the pony one day and was told the story, had written to the Red Cross, asking for information. Surely this letter would tell them that Uncle Jan was now in this country too!
Lidia snapped out of her reverie and got out pots for the vegetables that her mother had prepared earlier. As she set the table, she looked on all the cupboard shelves. There was nothing that she could take to the auction sale tomorrow! Not a trinket, not a spare dish, nothing. There were only the bare necessities that the Williamses had kindly provided for them. The auction, with its proceeds going to the Junior Red Cross, was an annual affair in the country school, but it was a new experience for Lidia. She dreaded being the only one in her class not to add some object to the collection on Miss Pearson’s desk.
The door suddenly opened, and Lidia rushed with the letter to greet her parents. And while they waited apprehensively, she stumbled through the unfamiliar phrases as she read the letter to them. Then, as she came to the closing sentence, she slowly read these discouraging words: “We are sorry that we have found no trace of your brother. However, be assured that we will keep trying …”
“I’ll wash,” Father said quietly, “then we’ll eat supper.”
After the usual prayer of thanks for food and shelter, Father told of a sick cow that was now getting well; Mother had helped Mrs. Williams clean the attic of the rambling old farmhouse.
“And how was school, Lidia,” Father asked.
The girl kept her eyes on her plate as she answered, “Fine, Father. Fine.”
“But you are very quiet,” Father pursued. “You have trouble at school?”
“No, no trouble.”
“So?”
“Well, there’s an auction at school tomorrow, and I should take something.”
“What is an auction?” Mother asked.
“Oh, everybody takes something, then the teacher asks for bids, and the one who bids the highest buys the book or whatever. The money goes to the Red Cross.”
“That is good,” Father said, nodding. “The Red Cross helped us many times. Here, take this.” Fishing in his pocket, he drew out a crumpled dollar bill.
“No thanks, Father,” Lidia said, pushing it away. “I have money of my own from weeding. But we are supposed to take something that can be sold.”
Father’s eyes looked around the room. “There is so little here.”
Lidia’s face crumpled. “I know,” she blurted. “There’s nothing I can take—nothing in this place!” She hung her head to hide her smarting eyes and wished that she had kept her words in check.
The girl waited for a rebuke; instead, her father got up slowly and went over to the bureau. He stood a minute, then he came back with the glass pony in his hand. “Take this,” he said quietly.
Lidia’s eyes widened. “The pony?”
Father nodded.
Lidia fingered the smooth blue glass and touched the dark eyes. Nobody spoke. She was touched by her father’s offer, and she sensed that her smiling, nodding parents were thinking back to happier days when there were two little ponies standing together on the top of a piano.
In the morning, the glass ornament sparkled on Miss Pearson’s sunny desk, and it brought the highest bid of one dollar. Nancy Crane, its new owner, wrapped it carefully in tissues and put it in her lunch pail.
At supper that night, Lidia described the sale and told her parents that Nancy said that she would take good care of the pony.
“It’s good,” Father said, smiling, “that the pony helps the Red Cross in a very small way.”
While Lidia was wiping the dishes after supper, a knock on the door startled them. Looking past her father at the open door, Lidia saw her schoolmate Nancy. With her was a tall man.
“Hi, Lidia,” the girl called. “This is my father, and we’ve come to see you about the glass pony.”
As they sat around the table, Nancy’s father took the glass pony out of his pocket, set it on the table, and began explaining: “I couldn’t believe it when Nancy brought this home. Your Lidia had told her that it was but one of a pair and that you left the other in Poland.”
“Yah,” Mr. Jelinek replied, “with my brother.”
“Well, folks,” the other man paused dramatically. “I’ve seen the mate to this pony.”
Lidia saw Father’s hands clench tightly, and Mother’s hand cover her mouth. “You are sure of this?” Father whispered.
“As sure as my name’s Walt Crane. I saw it only a few months ago.”
“How, Mr. Crane?” Lidia asked. “I mean, who had it?”
“A young fellow came asking for work. I didn’t need any extra help, but I knew that my cousin in Grand Falls did, so I drove him there. I saw the mate to this pony when I helped him settle in.”
“This place, is it far?” Lidia asked.
“About a hundred miles. Listen, folks, come home with me, and I’ll phone my cousin. As best as I can recollect, that young man did look like you, Mr. Jelinek. He must be your brother.”
The Jelineks were almost too happy to talk as Mrs. Crane and Nancy took them back home—Uncle Jan would be with them again tomorrow!
Lidia gave Nancy another grateful hug, then said thoughtfully, “It’s really funny. Just yesterday a letter from the Red Cross said that they had not found Uncle Jan yet but that they’d keep trying. And it was actually through the Red Cross auction today that we have found him!”
Nancy had happy tears in her own eyes. “My grandma always says, ‘God often works in mysterious ways.’ And I guess that it must be true. I’m just glad that I could help Him this time.” She slipped the glass pony into Lidia’s pocket. “Keep it, Lidia. Soon they’ll be a pair again.”

The next day was fast Sunday. Brother Owen was the first one up to bear his testimony. He explained that he had lost his job and his family was struggling to get by. The night before, he was getting his three daughters ready for bed. They were crying because they were hungry and there was no food. His oldest daughter, still in Primary, explained that if they prayed, Heavenly Father would bring them food.
Brother Owen was overcome by the faith of his daughter. With tears in his eyes, he asked his daughter to pray. He explained that she had said a simple prayer, explaining to Heavenly Father that she and her family were hungry. Then she asked Heavenly Father to bring them food. As the prayer ended, the family was surprised by a knock on the door. They opened the door and found not one, but two large geese sitting on the doorstep. They thanked Heavenly Father for such a quick answer to their prayer. Brother Owen testified that God answers prayers and sat down. Rick and I had tears in our eyes.
As the prayer ended, the family was surprised by a knock on the door.

When I was a young father, our little son, who was five, came home from school one day and asked his mother, “What kind of work does Daddy do?” He then explained that his new classmates started debating about their fathers’ jobs. One said that his father was the chief of the city police, while another proudly declared that his father was the chief of a big company.

So when asked about his father, my son simply said, “My father works in an office on a computer.” Then, noticing that his answer did not impress his new little friends much, he added, “And by the way, my father is the chief of the universe.”

I guess that was the end of the conversation.

I told my wife, “It’s time to teach him some more details of the plan of salvation and who is really in charge.”

But as we taught our children the plan of salvation, their love for Heavenly Father and for the Savior grew as they learned that it is a plan of love. The gospel of Jesus Christ is centered on the love of the Father and the Savior for us and our love for Them and for one another.