Gospel Story Finder

My heart fills with gratitude as I recall the joys of our rich family life when all six children were at home. May I mention just a few that have enriched our lives and continue to do so.
Prayer has been and is the ever-present anchor for strength and a source of direction in our family activities. I remember kneeling at the bedside of our young children, helping them with prayers in their younger years, and later seeing the older brothers and sisters helping the younger ones. We had family prayer night and morning, with children given the opportunity to lead, and had special prayers to meet particular problems. Mention was made in family prayer, for instance, of children with assignments such as a 2 1/2-minute talk in Sunday School or a new teaching assignment in the MIA. We asked for help when one of the children faced a difficult examination in high school. Special mention was made of members of the family away at girls’ camp, Scout camp, school, or working. This special mention of particular concerns in our family prayers gave confidence, assurance, and strength to members of the family facing difficult problems and assignments.
The inspired home evening and family council program, which carries such promise and which dates back more than forty years, has provided many happy hours and great joy together. It has built faith, strengthened testimonies, and created a family solidarity and unity that will endure throughout all eternity.
When the children were young, we enjoyed personal, intimate visits with them at their own bedsides or curled up before the fire. Later it was a joy to have them travel with me on Church and business trips throughout the state of Idaho and later throughout the nation. Sometimes these trips were a reward for achievement—our oldest son, Reed, was taken on a trip from Washington D.C., to the west coast when he became the first Eagle Scout in the stake. His achievement was followed a year later by that of his brother Mark. It was on a day during this trip with Reed that I was called to a position of leadership in the councils of the Church. The intimate conversation and experience of that day will remain a precious memory always.
I remember taking a trip to fulfill a speaking engagement at a great convention in Omaha. In reporting the event, the Omaha World Herald showed Bonnie, our third daughter, who later became Relief Society president at eighteen years of age, in a picture on the front page and reported her father’s speech on the back page. This trip was reported in some detail at the weekly home evening of the family.
Another family joy was to have guests in our home. At such times we always tried to arrange to have the children at the table also, to participate in the delightful conversation of the evening. The impression made on a judge and national farm leader as our daughter Barbara, age nine, led in family prayer at our dinner table was reported later by this beloved leader at a meeting of farm, labor, and business leaders in Florida.

A major goal of Aaronic Priesthood quorums is to offer opportunity for significant service. The Aaronic Priesthood Quorum Guidebook helps train presidencies to plan and carry out such quorum activities.
For example the teachers quorum in the Grandview First Ward, Salt Lake Wilford Stake, had a project to serve others anonymously—an idea that excited even normally uninvolved quorum members. On one occasion when the ward Young Men president was digging a root cellar, the boys finished the job in the middle of the night and then left their calling cards: “The Grandview Ward Phantoms.”
They also baked bread and pies—with help from mothers—and left them on neighbor’s doorsteps. They dug out snowbound driveways and sent cards to those who were sick. Tangible rewards of service were immediately apparent to the busy teachers quorum president when one of his quorum members secretly repaired his bicycle for him, leaving only the “Phantom” calling card as explanation.

“Joe’s moving!”
“I’m sorry to hear that, honey.”
“What am I going to do? He’s basically my only friend!”
“How did you become such good friends with Joe in the first place?”
“We started talking one day, and then we just kept talking.
“We could talk about everything.”
“You could do that again. Find someone to talk to and see what happens. You might find you’ll keep talking.”
“I guess I can try that.”

Delwyn and Jill Jensen, who served a military relations mission in Germany, tell how a simple interaction with a military member helped her to find again—and then move forward along—the covenant path.
When she joined the air force, this young woman stopped attending church. “But when we reached out to her with a text, she responded right away,” Sister Jensen says. She began attending church regularly, helping with service projects and sharing her testimony of Jesus Christ.
As the Jensens worked with her, they found she was reluctant to meet with the bishop. But with their love and gentle encouragement, she finally made and kept an appointment. “Afterward, she reported it was one of the most positive experiences of her life,” Elder Jensen said, “and the bishop gave us a similar report.”
The Jensens continued to support her in preparing to go to the temple and in receiving a patriarchal blessing.

About three years ago, Sinah M., a 17-year-old young woman from North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany, faced these questions. Her answers were influenced by what had come before that moment.
“I danced all my life and was very passionate about it,” says Sinah. “I did ballet, modern dance, jazz—a bit of everything, but mostly ballet.” Dancing made her happy and was a big part of her identity. “Everything revolved around dancing,” she says.
But then she started feeling pain in her feet whenever she would dance. She felt it even when she walked, and it wouldn’t go away. She sought answers and healing through doctors, priesthood blessings, and prayer. But the cause of her pain remained a mystery, and relief from her physical suffering did not come.
“I definitely had moments where I suddenly had thoughts like, ‘Does Heavenly Father love me? Why do I have to go through this? Why does he allow it to hurt me so much?’” says Sinah.
But in spite of such thoughts, she responded to this trial with overwhelming faith and trust in the Lord.
Before facing this challenge, Sinah had already developed faith in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
“I’ve always been interested in the gospel,” says Sinah. She’s glad her parents taught her the gospel, took her to church, and planted within her a desire to learn about the gospel for herself.
“I’m a person who questions a lot, but I don’t despair in this questioning,” she says. “It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I actually learned that it’s OK to have questions. I allowed myself to have questions, and I prayed for knowledge and strength and that Heavenly Father would help me to build my testimony even stronger.”
Over time, she noticed that this approach had, in fact, made her testimony stronger. “I’ve always been very open to the gospel, but I also allowed myself to have questions when they came, and I sought gospel knowledge even more.”
Though her physical struggles were at times hard to deal with, Sinah’s foundation of faith prepared her to face this challenge.
“I actually told myself from the beginning that no matter how hard it is, no matter how much it hurts, no matter what I’m going through, I don’t want to blame the Lord or be angry with Him,” she says. “So I told myself I can be frustrated, I can be sad, but I don’t want that to be a reason why my testimony suddenly starts to crumble. I’d rather come out of this stronger than suddenly have doubts.”
“I told myself I can be frustrated, I can be sad, but I don’t want that to be a reason why my testimony suddenly starts to crumble.”
Sinah also decided early on that she would not go through this trial alone. Since she doesn’t dance anymore, she now finds great joy in just being together with family and friends. And she has sought comfort and counsel from her Heavenly Father as well as from parents and leaders.
For example, she says, “I’ve talked about it a lot with people on temple trips and so on, and they’ve said that questions often pop into your head—always this why. But they’ve said, ‘Father in Heaven knows that you’re strong enough to deal with it.’ And hearing that from other people is very helpful.”
She has also felt love and strength from Heavenly Father by being with other youth at FSY conferences. But perhaps more than anything, she has felt strength and peace through priesthood blessings. “With every blessing I’ve received, I’ve felt the Spirit so strongly and really noticed that Heavenly Father is really there and that He really loves me. I notice that it can’t have been said to me just by the priesthood holder, but it was really inspired.”
“Because I couldn’t dance anymore, I had to set a different center,” says Sinah. “And that is becoming more and more the gospel. Of course, it’s still hard. But I’ve simply learned to trust in the Lord much more.”
That trust means she’s able to move forward despite not having the answers or the outcome she would have liked. “The healing I was hoping for has not yet come,” says Sinah. “But I have learned even more that Heavenly Father does have a plan, that I am going through this for a reason.”
“The healing I was hoping for has not yet come. But I have learned even more that Heavenly Father does have a plan.”
Her faith also gives her perspective. “I don’t know when I might be pain-free again or if that will be the case for the rest of my life,” she says. “I don’t know, but I have faith in the Lord that at the very latest when I am back with Him, I will no longer have to be in pain and that there is somehow a reason why I am going through this.”

When President George Albert Smith was a boy, he had an experience that changed his life. He wrote:
“As a child, thirteen years of age, I went to school at the Brigham Young Academy. … I cannot remember much of what was said during the year that I was there, but there is one thing that I will probably never forget. … Dr. Karl G. Maeser one day stood up and said, ‘Not only will you be held accountable for the things you do, but you will be held responsible for the very thoughts you think.’
“Being a boy, not in the habit of controlling my thoughts very much, it was quite a puzzle to me what I was to do, and it worried me. About a week or ten days after that I suddenly understood what he meant: You will be held accountable for your thoughts, because when your life is completed in mortality, it will be the sum of your thoughts. That one suggestion has been a great blessing to me all my life, and it has helped me on many occasions to avoid improper thoughts, because I realize that when my life is over I will be the product of my thoughts.” (Sharing the Gospel with Others [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1948], pages 62–63).

For 17-year-old twins Titaina and Titaua Germain, from the Haumi Branch on the island of Moorea, those special missionaries are Elder Nelson and Elder Snowden. The twins, who share everything including remarkably similar faces, said, “When the missionaries explained to us about the principles of the gospel, we were truly astounded. It was as if we had dreamed of meeting people who lived like this and a church that worked like this one.”
The twins have to wait until their 18th birthday to be baptized, but they attend all their meetings and institute classes besides. “We were both interested from the moment we heard about the gospel from Elder Nelson and Elder Snowden,” said Titaina. Or was it Titaua? “We feel the same about things.”

During the autumn of our freshman year in high school, one of my close friends lost her youngest sister to leukemia. The day I heard the news, I saw my friend from a distance, standing apart from the others at the bus stop. I could see her grief stamped clearly across the features of her face, and I yearned to do something to comfort her, but the situation made me suddenly shy. Although I had known the girl for years, I did not know what to say or do. So I avoided her. Some time later, after the shock of her sister’s death had subsided, my friend said to me, “I always thought it strange that neither you nor any of my other friends said anything to me when Katy died.”

When our Heavenly Father made provisions for us to become mortal, he knew, of course, that we would all one day travel through a “valley of shadow and tears.” Painful changes, illness, death—we cannot avoid them. Yet if there is anything more difficult than dealing with these things ourselves, perhaps it is watching a good friend attempting to cope with them. Witnessing a friend wrestle with the effects of any personal tragedy can often leave us feeling helpless. “What can I say? What can I do?” we may ask ourselves at such times. This sense of helplessness, unfortunately, causes many of us to do what I did: turn our backs on the problem.

That we should do otherwise is made clear by the scriptures. Through word and deed the Savior indicated that we must not neglect those who are suffering. Recall, for example, his response to the news of Lazarus’ death. John tells us that “Jesus wept.” Although Christ surely knew that he could raise Lazarus from the dead, he still grieved for his friends Mary and Martha to the point where he was actually moved to tears. His concern for them then caused him to take specific action to alleviate their sorrow and glorify his Father by commanding that Lazarus return to the realm of the living.

Perhaps we cannot work miracles in the manner of Christ, but as with all things, we can follow his example of caring. What can we do, then, when a friend is suffering? Perhaps one of the most important yet difficult things to do is to verbally and frankly acknowledge the problem a friend is facing. My friend remarked, “If any of you had even approached me and said, ‘I’m sorry,’ we would have both been more comfortable, more at ease with each other and the situation.” It is crucially important that we do not allow tragedy to become a barrier to communication. Verbalizing sympathy may be exactly what a sorrowing friend needs.

A word of caution may be in order here, however. A friend of mine named Doug lost his father in an automobile accident when he was in junior high school. Though he knew they meant well, it was difficult for him to hear peers whose parents were still living say, “I know exactly how you feel.” The fact is they probably didn’t, and consequently their well-intentioned remarks sounded callous. A simple “I’m sorry” would have been more appropriate. Furthermore, Doug felt oppressed by those people who felt it was their duty to get him to “talk about it” every time they associated with him. Once he felt the concern and sympathy of his friends by their simple expressions of sympathy, he preferred to bring up the subject himself.

As important as acknowledging a situation is, it would be wrong to assume that words alone are enough. Though we may truly mean it when we say, “Let me know if there is anything I can do to help,” most people might hesitate to call on us, fearing that they would be imposing on our time by doing so. How much better it is to take the initiative and actually do something for a friend without being asked.

I know of one Laurel-aged girl named Diana who will always appreciate what a good friend did for her without being asked during a critical period of her life. When she was 17, Diana became extremely and chronically depressed. Her depression was so severe that she eventually required medical attention. When her friend Rachel learned of this, she made quietly sure that she was available whenever Diana needed her. To this day Diana maintains that the phone calls, long walks, tennis matches, and lengthy conversations on a variety of subjects, including her illness, were instrumental in helping her return to full health and activity.

Finally, it is important to remind ourselves that the effects of many personal tragedies can be long lasting. Painful feelings are not always resolved quickly, and it often takes a great deal of time for a person to work through his or her grief. We must be careful not to assume that just because an individual has resumed his normal activities, he no longer requires special attention.

A boy named Stan related the following experience to me. One summer afternoon his younger brother was involved in an accident that left him paralyzed from the waist down. Immediately after the accident, friends of both boys, as well as ward members, were very supportive and attentive. Within a few weeks, however, the visits and offers to help became fewer and fewer. Before long Stan, his brother, and other members of the family felt isolated because of the tragedy. A few short weeks were simply not enough time for them to come to terms with the new and difficult realities that confronted them individually and as a family. Continued support from caring friends would have been truly appreciated.

As much as we would like to, we cannot often change the circumstances causing a good friend pain. We can, however, help him to deal with that pain by caring, the kind of caring that translates itself into words and deeds of genuine compassion. Expressing sympathy, demonstrating concern through specific action, and making a long-term commitment to the person in need are all important steps we can take in helping a person we love come to grips with the circumstances of his or her life.

Later, after I went through the endowment session, I saw a man who was receiving his endowment for the first time. I watched as he finally entered the celestial room and embraced his family members. The joy they felt was palpable and brought tears to my eyes.
This reminded me of when I entered the celestial room on the day of my own endowment and was greeted by my family, including my dad. It gave me hope for the joy I will feel when we are reunited again—joy that I will get to experience because of Jesus Christ and His Atonement. The temple and family history work we do truly can remind us what matters most.

It was Friday night and football season at my high school. As drum major of the marching band, I was having a great time cheering with the band and directing stand tunes. Then things changed drastically when I heard a desperate cry: “Get help! Jeff has stopped breathing!”
I found Jeff, a tuba player, lying across a bleacher, slipping in and out of consciousness and gasping for breath. Suddenly the all-important football game faded from significance. My number-one priority was to get help for Jeff. Paramedics arrived, and it wasn’t until after Jeff was safely on his way to the hospital that I even thought about checking the scoreboard.
After the game I realized that too many times in my own life I have allowed myself to get so involved in a fun yet unimportant event of life that I failed to recognize someone’s spiritual cry for help. During the football game it bothered me to watch Jeff struggle for breath and hear the cheers and laughter of fans that had no idea that anything was wrong.

In a few days we will dedicate the beautiful Denver Temple.

When it was announced that we would build a temple in that city and had selected a site on which it should stand, opposition rose against us. We gave up that site and tried another. Again we were thwarted. But we were determined to go forward, putting our trust in the Lord that He would guide us in accomplishing His purposes. Two other possible sites were selected. At the time, President Kimball and President Romney were both ill, and mine was a serious responsibility. I asked President Benson, then President of the Council of the Twelve, if we might go to Denver together, and there with Elder Russell Taylor we looked over these sites. I give you my testimony that we were guided by the Spirit in choosing the ground on which that beautiful new structure now stands. It will be dedicated later this month as a house of God.

When I was nine years old, our family moved into a home with an unfinished basement where my sister and I slept. Sometimes at night as I lay in bed trying to go to sleep, the unfinished walls looked like shadowy figures. These shapes gave me frightening dreams. Sometimes I would sleepwalk through my house and wake up suddenly in a strange place.
One night after sleepwalking, I woke up totally confused and frightened. I tried to scream for help, but no sound came from my mouth. It was so dark, I could not see my hand in front of my face. Suddenly, someone turned on a light, and I could see where I was. My mother must have heard me sleepwalking and came down to the basement to check on me. When she didn’t find me safe in my bed, she turned on the light to look for me.
One simple flick of a light switch and I understood exactly where I was, how much my mother loved me, and how to return to the safety of my covers. Because the shadows scared me, I asked my mother to leave on a light. She agreed. I’m thankful my mother loved me enough to come downstairs and turn on the light.
The night I was sleepwalking in my basement and woke up frightened, I was right beside my sister all the time. She was fine, but I needed someone to help me find the light.

For as long as I can remember, I have always looked up to my big sister, DeNeece. I will never forget those cold winter mornings when the snow seemed to rise above my waist but never reached her knees. She would boldly take a clump of snow and roll it over the ground to create a snowman. I would gather up some snow and follow directly behind her, rolling my tiny snowball in her footsteps. I would follow her around for what seemed to be hours. Then she would abruptly halt and announce her ball finished. So naturally, I declared the same. Would my ball ever be as large or as skillfully round as hers? I pondered the situation, and finally it occurred to me to start my snowball alongside her, not behind. Then they both would be large and we could create a huge snowman. But we never rolled snowballs again.

When I was about to enter fifth grade, my parents decided to move to Salt Lake City. My mother wanted me to have the opportunities a big city could provide. Suddenly my whole way of life changed, for things were very different in the city. There were lots of different choices to be made, and I saw that people who didn’t always choose the right could still be popular, could still be thought of as “neat” and “cool” because they were going along with the crowd. However, I had the steady influence of my parents. They taught me, through example as well as through words, that it is always important to choose the right. That is the way to true happiness.

Marshall was so excited to be in Nebraska. His baseball team, the Aces, had traveled from Utah to play in a tournament. So far it had been an awesome adventure.

“We’re going to win!” Marshall said to his friend Mason as they got ready for the championship game. The Aces were in the lead. All they had to do to win the tournament was beat the Mustangs from Mississippi. If they lost they would have to play a second game against the Mustangs to decide the champion.

Marshall and his teammates played the best they could, but the Aces lost the game. Marshall was disappointed. He was slowly walking back to the dugout when he heard the Mustangs’ coach call, “Hey, boys, come over here!”

“I wonder what he wants,” Marshall complained as he headed to the center of the field. He didn’t feel like being a good sport.

As boys from both teams gathered on the pitcher’s mound, the Mustangs’ coach congratulated them.

“That was a really good game, and you all played really well. We’re excited to play you again tonight. We hope that game will be good too. Now, Tyler,” he said to a boy on his team, “will you please offer a prayer for us?”

Marshall was surprised. He did not expect to be praying in the middle of a baseball field. He forgot about losing as he bowed his head and listened. He left feeling a lot better.

After the game Marshall and his teammates went to visit the nearby Mormon Trail Center at Historic Winter Quarters. As they walked around with their missionary guide, the boys told her about praying with the other team. Then suddenly Mason said, “Hey, I have an idea! If the Mustangs had enough courage to pray on the field, we should have enough courage to give them copies of the Book of Mormon!”

That sounded like a great idea to Marshall and the other Aces. They asked the missionaries if they could get 15 copies of the Book of Mormon to give to the Mustangs and their coaches.

Before the game all the Aces were excited about playing, but they were even more excited about sharing the gospel. “I hope they’ll read it,” Marshall said as he finished writing his testimony in a Book of Mormon.

The Aces all played hard that night, but they lost again. Marshall didn’t mind as much this time, though, because he was so excited to share his gift. After the game both teams gathered to shake hands and give congratulations. But this time the surprise was for the Mustangs. Marshall handed his book to one of the other boys. “I wanted you to have this. Thanks for playing and praying with us.”

“Thanks,” the boy said.

After the Aces passed out their books, the two teams bowed their heads for another prayer. Marshall was also silently thanking Heavenly Father for giving him the chance to be a missionary.

My name is Thomas, and I am a gatherer.
This year in Primary we are learning how to gather. Our leaders asked us to gather our families for prayer and scripture study. They want us to practice gathering so we will know how to gather now and when we grow up—on missions, at school, or even when we are alone. That way we can always spiritually gather with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and find peace in Them.
My job is to gather my family for morning prayer. I ask, “Will you please join me for prayer?” My brother Henry gathers us for evening prayer and scripture study.
One Saturday morning, we left early to play basketball. Afterward, we ran errands. I suddenly remembered and said, “Mom, we forgot to gather to pray.” She told me we could gather when we got home. But I said, “We need to gather and pray right now!” She asked me to say the prayer, but she kept her eyes open because she was driving.
Mom and Dad tell Henry and me how thankful they are that we gather our family for prayer and scripture study. They say our small voices make a big difference in our home. They tell us that because we gather, our family is blessed.

When I graduated high school, I had my whole college life planned out. I would find my first boyfriend, make a great group of friends, and eventually get married.
Instead, I found out that dating and building friendships can be hard. I would meet people who were already in relationships or already had an exclusive friend group. I kept hitting roadblocks to my life expectations.
I quickly found myself comparing my life to those who had the relationships I wished I had. I became envious and jealous. Pretty soon, I felt lonely and depressed.
I wasn’t sure if I would ever feel satisfied with my life.
I turned to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and made some changes in my life. And I’ve found three practices that have helped me feel joy as I wait for the blessings I’m seeking:
Around this time of loneliness, one of my friends participated in a 100-day gratitude challenge where she posted something she was grateful for on social media every day. At first it seemed ridiculous to me.
But as President Russell M. Nelson recently taught: “Counting our blessings is far better than recounting our problems. No matter our situation, showing gratitude for our privileges is a fast-acting and long-lasting spiritual prescription.”1
I have always been taught that gratitude can bring happiness, but I didn’t really believe it. But if there was a chance that it could help me feel joy, then I was going to try practicing gratitude too.
At first I focused a lot on the extravagant things in my life I was grateful for. But soon I noticed everyday blessings, like my cat, good relationships, the inspirational quotes on my social media feed, and my talents.
I’m always grateful for the moments of peace I feel, and I silently thank God when I notice His mercies that often carry me through the day, reminding me that He has great things in store for me.
I remember when President Nelson invited the sisters and youth of the Church to do social media fasts. Since accepting that first invitation, I’ve fasted from social media multiple times when I’ve felt that it’s creating the “impression that everyone except [me] is leading a fun, adventurous, and exciting life.”2
Through taking much-needed breaks from social media, I’ve learned about the importance of real-life relationships and gained a greater appreciation for finding joy through hobbies and spiritual habits.
I’ve also been able to see others from a more Christlike view instead of judging them by the life highlights they post. As President Nelson added, “Social media … creates a false reality,”3 and if we take a break from it, we can better remember the things that matter most, overcome the world,4 and focus on the Spirit.
When I felt lonely during college, I always had this thought: “If I’m feeling lonely, someone else is too.” That would motivate me to reach out to a friend or acquaintance. Our conversations would always lift both of our spirits.
I’ve realized that when I focus on helping others, I’m happy. This happens every time I listen to my friends’ struggles and offer them love and support. Just as President Thomas S. Monson (1927–2018) said, “To find real happiness, we must seek for it in a focus outside ourselves.”5
As I continue to apply these practices to my life, I keep realizing that I do have a “best” life and I don’t have to wait on specific blessings to feel joy. Sometimes I let my unmet expectations overwhelm me, but I reorient myself to notice my blessings and remember that through trusting Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and keeping my covenants, I can find a lasting joy I can’t get any other way.
I still may not have all the blessings in life I desire right now, but I like to remember these words from Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles: “The day will come when you turn the final pages of your own glorious story ... and experience the fulfillment of those blessed and wonderful words: ‘And they lived happily ever after.’”6
Until then, I will keep focusing on enjoying the best life I have with God’s help.

In the wake of his parents’ deaths, his older sisters chipped in and sent him on study abroad to the Brigham Young University Jerusalem Center. There, he met Kaye Davis.
The two became good friends as their group camped in the Sinai desert, worked in banana fields, and studied the Old and New Testaments together.
After returning to Provo, Utah, they began dating. They married in the Salt Lake Temple in December 1985. They have eight children.

Jahmin Tengu of New Zealand nearly took his own life. Wanting to know of the Lord’s love for him, he felt prompted to get on his knees.

He recalls, “As I began to pray, I felt the Spirit of the Lord comfort me. I asked the Lord to bring truth into my life.” A few weeks later, Jahmin met a returned missionary who yelled out to him and asked, “Would you like to meet the missionaries?”

This led to meeting the missionaries and receiving a copy of The Book of Mormon. “I had no desire to read it at all, but I had this feeling when I read it. I felt as if the Spirit was saying, ‘I have given you what you asked for, I have answered your prayers.’”

Now, a missionary himself, Elder Tengu says, “I can truly testify that The Book of Mormon saved my life. . . . It is the word of God and is solely focused on bringing people closer to Jesus Christ.”

Jennifer Joyce Richmond made a goal during the summer before her freshman year of high school and kept it. She decided she would attend seminary every day throughout high school and graduate with a perfect attendance record.
Even though she and her family moved during her high school years, she achieved her perfect attendance goal and became the first person in the Hurst Texas Stake to achieve four years of perfect seminary attendance.
Jennifer also served as Beehive, Mia Maid, and Laurel class president. She is a member of the North Richland Hills Ward.