Gospel Story Finder

I have a photograph of my dad and me. It was taken at my Eagle Scout court of honor the summer before last. It is the last picture taken of my father before he became a quadriplegic. The court of honor was on a Saturday night. My father and I stood next to each other, his arm around me, while my mom pressed the button capturing us on film.
The next week I went to the beach with my parents, two younger sisters, and my friend Matt. Loaded down with baskets and blankets we journeyed to the beach. We found a good spot where there were not too many people around. My friend and I dropped everything and made a mad dash for the ocean. The water was warm, and the sky was clear. The waves did not look at all threatening. Everything was fine. We were swimming, body surfing the waves, and having seaweed fights. We were walking back to find our spot when I saw my dad go into the water. I decided to go back in and join him for a little body surfing.
We were standing next to each other, talking and waiting for the next wave. When it came, we both took it. My friend Matt was off somewhere swimming. I pulled out of it before it got too shallow. “Dad, did you have a good ride?” No answer. I looked around and I could not see him. I thought he was under the water and was going to grab my legs or something. Then I saw him. “Dad! Dad!” He was floating on his stomach, only his shorts and back visible.
I fought through the water to get to him. I remember thinking that he had to be all right because nothing like this could happen to us. I reached him and struggled to turn him over onto his back so he could breathe. This whole time I had been yelling, “Dad! Dad!” over and over again. I got him turned over and as his eyes met mine, my whole body shook with fear. There was no expression on is face, but I saw terror and panic in his eyes. At that moment a wave struck us, sending me reeling and tearing him from my arms. I fought back to the surface, but my father was not in sight. I started screaming, “Matt, help me find my dad! Find my dad! Help me find my dad!” I knew we had to find him before another wave came. I knew his life was in our hands.
I had no feeling at this time. I just knew we had to find him. We spotted his swimming suit a little ways off. We struggled through the water to reach him. I could see a wave coming and I felt like I was in some dream where people are chasing you but your feet are stuck to the ground. We reached him just before a wave hit us. Turning him over, we each grabbed under an arm and began to drag him in. This whole time we had been yelling for help. Two men appeared and then a lifeguard, and they helped us drag him onto the shore. I noticed that he was very white and that his lips were blue. His eyes were open and focused right on me. The lifeguard kept asking him to blink if he heard him, but his eyes just stared into mine.
All of a sudden my stomach just dropped. I had this wrenching feeling and I felt sick. I have never been so scared. I knew he must have a broken neck or back. He had some blood on his forehead so I guessed it must be his neck. We got him onto the shore, and before I knew it we were surrounded by lifeguards. They backed me off and began to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
My mother had no idea of what was happening. I told Matt to run and get her. I did not want to leave my dad. I was walking around in a circle, sick with fear. I saw one of the lifeguards put her ear to his chest. They began to do CPR. They began to pound on his chest. I lost it. I knew he was dead. I knew that his heart had stopped. I started hollering, “No way, this can’t be happening! No way! No way!” A lifeguard came up to me and said, “You’re not going to help him by getting mad.” I knew he was right, but my staying calm would not help him either. Nothing I could do was going to help him.
By this time there was a huge crowd of people and more kept coming. I saw my mom running towards me. She did not know what had happened, but seeing all the people gathered she imagined the worst.
She was right; it was the worst. I ran to meet her. She was in hysterics, yelling at me to tell her what was wrong. Through the crowd she could see the lifeguards giving him CPR. She tried to go to him, but I held her back. She grabbed me and began sobbing.
A lifeguard came to us to tell us what was happening. By now the paramedics had arrived, and I saw them pull out electric shock devices, the kind you see in movies. He was dead, and they were trying to shock him back into life. All the strength went out of me and I almost fell to the ground. I could not watch anymore. I turned away. My mom still clung to me. She was talking and crying, but I couldn’t understand her.
One of the lifeguards came over to tell us that they got his heart beating. I felt no relief from this. By this time they had a tube in his mouth giving him oxygen because he was not breathing on his own. People were coming up to my mom and asking her if they could pray for him. I wanted to comfort her and act old and mature and tell her everything was going to be all right. But the only thing I could do was hold her and let her cry.
He lay there on the beach for about an hour with the lifeguards working on him. He was still unconscious, and his heart was very unstable. They slowly put him into the ambulance, and my mom got in also. I remember just standing there watching it drive away, wondering what our life was going to be like from then on.
He did have a broken neck and a severed spinal cord. The cord was severed so high that not only was he totally paralyzed from the neck down, but he was also unable to breathe on his own. At first some doctors told us that he would never be able to talk again or even come home to live. However, after six long, difficult months in a rehabilitation center, he was able to come home. Because of special equipment, he can breathe, talk, and even control a powered wheelchair. By sipping and puffing, he can make his chair do anything he wants.
He has been home for ten months now. It is great to be a family again. However, all of our lives have been affected by what has happened. We, as a family, are maintaining all of his care. I have had to assume many responsibilities. I do many things for him that he used to be able to do on his own.
Through all of this my dad has had the best attitude. He never seems mad or discouraged about what has happened, and he never complains about it. He just accepts it and lives his life to the best of his ability. He has been the ultimate example to me. If he can cope with this without getting discouraged and complaining, then it seems to me that all my problems are nothing.
My dad has accomplished many things in his life. At the time of his injury, he was president of our stake. I’m sure that it is a great comfort to him now that he has done so many things. This teaches me not to waste away a moment of my life. You never know what is going to happen to you. Also, before his accident, I was never sure what I was going to do with my life. Now, with all of the care I have rendered to him, I feel that I would like to become a doctor. This terrible accident has, in fact, affected me in a positive way.
I have another photograph of me and my dad. It was taken last summer outside in our front yard. I am standing next to him with my arm around him, and he is sitting in his wheelchair. As I compare the two pictures I can see the difference. It is not that he is in a wheelchair. Others probably couldn’t see the change, but to me, we are not the same people who were in a similar picture a year before. There has been a physical change, but the true change has occurred within. I deeply sense it whenever I look at the last photograph.

A couple of years ago a reporter from an international broadcasting network visited Salt Lake City researching a story on women in the Church. She was intrigued that a female was leading a Church-owned media company and asked me for an interview.
I liked this reporter. She'd done her homework and asked good questions, though one of them was predictable: "How do you feel about not being eligible for priesthood ordination?" I outlined the extensive leadership opportunities women have in the Church and then explained that, as a woman endowed with power in the temple, I had complete access to God's power-or priesthood power-for my own life. And I explained that my focus had long been on learning how to gain full access to that power.
She paused and then asked: "Are you saying that you believe you have more access to God's power than I do?"
What a loaded question! My brain began to spin in search of a truthful but politically correct answer. But I couldn't bring myself to sell our doctrine or our privileges as women short. So finally I said, "Well, actually ...yes."
"Now, do not misunderstand what I'm saying," I quickly added. "I am not saying the Lord loves me more than He loves you or that I'm better than you. I'm not saying that He is more likely to bless me than you. But if you're asking if I believe I have greater access to God's power than you do, the answer is yes! That is one of the blessings of joining this Church. We believe that when we make promises to God to follow His Son, He in turn makes promises to us. And one of those promises is that He will give us greater access to His power."
As I spoke, the Spirit filled the room and disarmed her. Her demeanor softened, and then she asked how the gospel affects me personally. She basically opened the door for me to testify.
I told her that Jesus Christ hasn't just made a difference in my life, He has made all the difference. That every good thing that has ever happened to me has come because of my membership in His Church. And that I have experienced the Savior's healing, enabling power again and again.
At that point, the Spirit flooded the room and we were both in tears. She finally said, "That is beautiful." That day I experienced the sublime beauty of standing as a witness and bearing witness of truth.

Let me begin with a story about a young man we will call Michael.

One day not long ago, Michael said good-bye to his family and friends and entered the MTC. He was on his mission! This was something he had hoped for, and planned on, since he was a little boy. On his first day in the MTC, he met many other missionaries and felt a wonderful spirit. That spirit touched his heart and his soul in a very deep way. So deep, in fact, that some things that had been buried within him began to surface.

Beginning on that first day and continuing into the second, the Spirit worked on Michael. He realized those things that had been buried should have been confessed and repented of long before the MTC. As he walked the halls of the MTC, the burden of guilt began to weigh on him. He felt out of place. Finally, Michael decided he had to talk to his priesthood leader, and so he went to see the president of the MTC.

In the moment Michael took those steps toward the president’s office, he began a journey of repentance and humility and hope. He took those steps because the words of Alma in Alma 42:30 had become a reality in his life:
O my son … let the justice of God, and his mercy, and his long-suffering have full sway in your heart; and let it bring you down to the dust in humility.[1]

In conclusion, I would like to share with you a personal experience I believe captures what we have talked about today. It began in January of 2001 on a Friday night. I was at home with Sue and we got a phone call from our stake president, Lloyd Baird. The call was about a young missionary named Michael, the same Michael I told you about at the beginning of my talk. Michael is our son.

President Baird told us Michael had to come home from his mission. And so, Michael came home.

Now, I can tell you Sue and I did not get off the phone with President Baird and say to each other: “We are about to have one of the most wonderful experiences of our lives.” But that is what happened. And it happened because the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ became a living reality in the life of our son.

Over the next nine months Michael went through the very difficult—but very sweet—process of repentance. He knew the Lord had forgiven him, but he also knew he needed to experience what Alma had experienced. He needed to be born of God, changed to a state of righteousness—a new creature through the mighty change of heart of which the scriptures speak. He needed to deepen his faith and his understanding of the gospel. He needed to be fully worthy to return to the House of the Lord; and he needed to be fully prepared to return to the mission field, there to serve the Lord with all his heart.

And so Michael set up a new life for himself. He got a job working at a local hospital. He set up regular visits with his bishop. He read and studied the scriptures. He prayed often seeking the Lord’s blessing. He sought to be of service and to be active in his ward.

The path was not easy. For example, Michael went to church with us the Sunday after he came home. He had just given a talk in sacrament meeting before he left on his mission, and now he had to explain to people why he was back so soon. But he faced his situation head-on with courage and candor.

During those months Michael met often with the bishop of our ward, Mark Ott. Bishop Ott was a great blessing to Michael. He counseled with him, encouraged him, and loved him. One day he asked Michael to give Sister Naomi Cranney a ride to and from church. Sister Cranney was ninety-seven years old. Every week when she was able to come, Michael would arrive at her home, help her down the steps into the car, drive her to church, help her get to the chapel, and sit with her during sacrament meeting. He would then take her home at the end of church. Sister Cranney had a wonderful spirit about her, and she grew to love Michael dearly. Over many weeks Michael was blessed to come to know and serve a great Latter-day Saint.

During this time Michael lived at home. He would often come into our bedroom at night and talk to us about his efforts. These months were Michael’s Gethsemane. He suffered, and he got discouraged. When discouragement set in, he would come into our room and ask for a blessing. I gave Michael many blessings during those months; and I knew through the Spirit that Michael was changing, that the Atonement was working in his life. Though the path was hard, the Savior was by his side.

And so it went, day after day, night after night for a long time. The dark night was long, but the morning light soon came. Sue and I were eyewitnesses to the miracle of the Atonement of Jesus Christ in the life of our precious son. The Savior reached out and took hold of that young man and changed him from the inside out. I will never forget the day Michael came home from his General Authority interview. He had gone to Pittsburgh to meet with Elder Spencer Condie. I picked him up at the airport. As he came off that airplane, he was radiant! The Spirit of the Lord shone brightly in his eyes.

Michael returned to the temple and to the mission field. His mission was not easy, but he served faithfully and well. He became a mighty elder in Israel. His knowledge of the gospel deepened, and his understanding of the Atonement increased. What began that week in January of 2001 continued through his time in British Columbia. And it continues today. He has come to know the Savior in a deep and powerful way through his own experience. I know the Atonement of Jesus Christ has full sway in his heart. And because he has “followed the Son, with full purpose of heart,” he has helped many others to feel the power of the Atonement in their lives.

As a small child, I must have been a great “talker.” According to my mother, I liked talking to adults and enjoyed the attention this generated. My observations and comments often resulted in laughter, which at times, I later learned, came from the embarrassment those remarks had caused my parents.
Soon after my family moved to Holladay, Utah, many of my parents’ friends came to visit and to see our new home. After one such visit, in which I had given my usual performance, my father took me aside and said, “Keith, I’m grateful you are so honest in the things you say. Mother and I are proud of you.” He paused and then with greater emphasis said, “Keith, always be honest.” Then he added, “But Keith, you don’t have to tell all you know.” He then explained what he meant. Evidently, in my chattering before his friends that evening I had really said too much. What impressed me, however, was my father’s counsel to always be honest.
In later studying the thirteenth article of faith, I noticed that it began with “We believe in being honest.” [A of F 1:13] I was very pleased that my father had taught me that principle.

This is an example of a simple childhood act that represents being present for another. This is the nugget of living and being present as the ‘evidence of things hoped for.’ The impact from this experience has already created an optimistic lens of how I see the world and my life in the future with kids and grandkids. This was a special powerful spiritual lesson from my youngest grandson Willie.

One day, we finally had a chance to practice all our preparations for riding a bike. We had talked about the rules of the road. The importance of looking for safe places to ride and being smart about being safe on the road.

We plotted our course in the empty parking lot. We put together our bike safety equipment. We laced our shoes to protect his feet, special knee pads and elbow pads, and a helmet. Then after a few attempts to get our balance, we took off. It was a blast as he pretended to put out fires from his Blaze and Blippy replica bike. If you do not know who Blaze and Blippy are all you need to do is consult with a five-year-old for up-to-date TikTok and YouTube influencers.

As we took a rest, we dismounted from our bikes. He dropped his bike on the ground, he was still learning the nuances of pedals, brakes, and handlebars. Then we started to walk across the parking lot. I grabbed his hand to guide him to the spot we were headed to.

As we approached the cross-way path, he stopped walking. I strengthened my grip, preparing for him to bolt from my hand at any moment. As I stepped into the walkway, he gripped my hand, with both of his and stood his ground. I am thinking, now you want to be like this, you stubborn little guy? Then I finally looked up to see the car coming down the road.

He did not say a word, he just simply held my hand, present in the moment, following the instructions he learned from papa. I taught him, ‘always look both ways before you cross the road.’ He learned and was obedient to live that principle, in the moment.

A simple act, gracious, and present from a little boy saving his ‘papa.’ A lesson papa will always remember of his being faithful to his lessons and that he could persistently be present enough for both of us to be safe and healthy.

When they were 13 and 16 respectively, they decided they wanted to climb the steep western face of Mount Timpanogos in the winter. This is a hazardous climb, involving deep snow and treacherous ridges of ice. After they had received instruction from their neighbor James Jensen, who had climbed in Antarctica, they dressed in their warmest clothing and hiking boots, took their homemade crampons and borrowed ice axes, and started climbing one morning at 3:00 A.M.

It was an exhausting climb, but they moved fast. At one point they were confronted with about 100 feet of almost vertical ice, and they had to chop steps in order to keep climbing. When they reached the 11,750 foot summit, they became the youngest team ever to make the ascent in winter.

They’ve repeated the feat several times since then, but with a difference. On that first venture they took their “climbing dog” George with them, but he became so neurotic about going up and down the ice steps that he never climbed Timpanogos again. He earned his nickname, however, by later accompanying them on countless equally risky ventures, frightened out of his fur half the time, but faithful to the end.

George has since passed gratefully away to a more peaceful existence.

A few years ago, the missionaries held an activity and gave all the youth a challenge to go without their phones and social media for a few days so that they could be more centered on the gospel and be able to share it with others. I accepted the challenge and shared the gospel with a friend and told them about the missionaries’ challenge. That friend became interested and started meeting with the missionaries. He was baptized a few months later.

That evening we realize my husband is almost out of pain medication. It’s Friday. Jacob has spent the afternoon shaking under a mound of blankets. If he runs out of medication over the weekend, what will we do?

By the time I figure out the right doctor to call (the doctor we had already seen that day), it’s almost 5:00 p.m. A medical assistant answers. He checks with the doctor and tells me, “If you can be here in 30 minutes, I’ll get you the prescription. Here’s my number. Call it when you get here. The doors may be locked.”

I herd our three-year-old daughter to the car, leaving Jacob in the bed and our 10-year-old son with a video game. We drive 25 more miles. The medical assistant gives me the prescription and talks me through the chemo symptoms. I know he must have waited for me.

It’s almost dinner time. I haven’t made any food. I still need to fill the prescription. My daughter is hungry and tired. But out over the valley, the sun breaks through the overcast sky, and a ray of light runs in a straight line to the place I’m headed for. I say a prayer of gratitude for the medical assistant who waited for me.

The woman who rings up the prescription remembers me. Another pharmacist gives my daughter a free sucker. I get a text message from my husband. Someone from the ward has brought us dinner.

I almost start crying. Not because I can’t do it anymore but because the assistant waited. Because dinner is at home. And because two pharmacists took time for me and my daughter. The fog and rain have lifted enough for me to see again. I know we are going to be all right. We’re being carried in the hands of the Lord.

Since that time, I have found that my testimony of the gospel has grown at the same rate as my conviction about the truth of the Book of Mormon. But the growth of my testimony has not come without its struggles.
When I told my family about my decision to be baptized, my father turned away in disgust. I was devastated! The man whom I loved and respected more than anyone else in the world was violently opposed to my decision about the most important matter of my life!
Later, a few months after I was baptized, I had my first encounter with anti-Mormon material. My parents had been given some tape recordings made by an individual known for his criticism of the Church, and they were really worried about what I had gotten myself into. When I listened to the tapes, I too was concerned.
Even though some of this negative information seemed plausible, my deep reaction was that it couldn’t be right. I had felt the Spirit too many times in studying the Church to deny its truthfulness, so I decided to investigate the anti-Mormon claims. I turned to the scriptures in prayerful study—especially the Book of Mormon. Knowledgeable Church members helped answer my questions. Afterward, I was more convinced than ever that I had made the right decision by joining the Church.
As a result, I made my own tape recording, personalizing it for my parents, and answered the major charges in the anti-Mormon material. I played the tape for my parents, and afterward my dad looked at me through his tears and said, “That was quite a sermon, son!” Then we hugged each other. This experience became the start of a new relationship between us.

I have a friend named Sveta who lives in Russia. She lives in a shelter because she doesn’t have a mom or a dad who can take care of her. My family is helping her so that she doesn’t have to live on the streets. I decided that I wanted to help her, too, so I decided to sell lemonade and send the money to Sveta so she could stay in the shelter.
With my family’s help, I made a sign and made fresh lemonade to sell to our neighbors. Before I set up my stand, I prayed that I could sell a lot of lemonade to help Sveta. I stood on the corner next to my stand and waved at cars as they went by. When people stopped, I told them about Sveta and how I was trying to help her. People were so nice! They gave me extra money to send to Sveta. I sold all my lemonade in less than an hour and had to make more! Even though I got hot standing in the sun, I was very happy that I could help my friend.

A number of years ago, my son Nelson called me on Christmas Eve. The week before, an attorney who did not speak Spanish had asked him to serve as an interpreter. The attorney’s client, an older man who did not speak English, was requesting custody of his grandchildren.
After the hearing, Nelson wished the client merry Christmas. The man replied that Christmas that year would be a sad time. He was struggling financially to support his family. In addition, his 29-year-old daughter had just passed away, leaving behind five little children, the youngest just two years old. Their father was in jail, so the client and his wife would be taking in their grandchildren.
Moved by the man’s situation, both Nelson and the attorney decided not to charge him for their services. Then Nelson asked for the names and ages of the children and for the man’s address.
That night, Nelson couldn’t sleep as he thought about how he could help the family. As he knelt and fervently prayed about them, he felt inspired to write a letter, explaining the family’s situation, sharing the names and ages of the children, and asking for donated gifts. The next day he distributed copies of the letter to the judges, attorneys, and other workers at the courthouse.
The response was so great that he soon filled his car’s trunk and seats with gifts. Those who had no time to purchase gifts donated money for the family.
“Mamá,” Nelson said, “there are a lot of good people in the world. If you could just see how they responded! I requested just one gift for each child, but many more were donated.”
Nelson arrived at the family’s home Christmas Eve. The children were excited and happy as they helped him unload the gifts from his car. Their grandfather and grandmother just shook their heads in disbelief.
When Nelson sat down to rest for a minute before leaving, the two-year-old approached him and climbed onto his lap. Then, touching Nelson’s face affectionately, he asked, “Are you my daddy?”
With that, Nelson wept, thankful to those who had helped brighten the family’s Christmas.
“Mamá,” he said, “there is no greater joy than serving others. I’m thankful to have been an instrument in God’s hands to bless this good family.”
Nelson’s joy was a reflection of the Savior’s teaching that “it is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35).

So we looked him up when he was in Salt Lake on a visit and asked him a few questions. Here’s what happened.
Q: If there’s been a highlight in your basketball career, what was it?
Kresimir: I played on three championship teams in Zadar, and it was always a highlight, because when we win something over there, the whole town celebrates. Everyone dances; there is no work; everything closes. You can go outside, and you can see it’s a completely different place for a week. Those are maybe the most impressive things. In the United States there is not so much celebration. In Zadar we have happiness. We have a good time winning the game.
Q: You were drafted by two pro teams. Weren’t you interested in the money?
Kresimir: Money is not the main thing. You try to live happily. If you can do it, you do. I try to live so that I feel good, and if I feel good, then I am living well.
Q: Do you have any suggestions for young basketball players?
Kresimir: First, every person who wants to play basketball has to have temperament.
Q: Temperament?
Kresimir: You’ve got to be alive. You’ve got to like to play. That really helps.
Q: Anything else?
Kresimir: I always try to be a complete player. A player should learn as many things as he can, but he has to decide what is best for his own position and work hardest on that. I try to learn everything. I know a thousand things that I never use because I just play center. But I think that even if you play a specific position, you should learn everything else so you can help the other players. But you need to learn specific things especially well.
Q: What kind of a training program did you use when you were a young player in Yugoslavia?
Kresimir: When I started to play I used to shoot by myself every morning, and that’s the best thing you can do when you are young—just play with the ball, and play on one basket, three against three, two against two, one against one. That’s the way I developed; then I just played. When you are 15 or 16 years old you may begin to work a bit harder and start to work on certain things. I never had any specialty. I just tried to do what everyone else was doing. I usually played at guard, because no one else in my hometown was tall, and I was doing whatever they were doing, so I developed pretty good ball handling.
Q: If some tall, young reader wants to play center, what are some of the things he should be working on?
Kresimir: He should try to work like a forward—move out and in, run every time there’s a fast break, work on those things that really give trouble to big men, and always be as quick as possible. Faking is one of the most important things for a center to learn. If a center can fake, it’s really hard to stop him. If he can fake, then go left or right, he can shoot all kinds of shots from inside 15 feet. You can shoot any way you want to from that close. You’ve got to have fast legs and hands. You’ve got to have coordination. That’s why I think tall men need coordination drills like dancing or rhythmic exercises. It’s really necessary, because when you’re tall your leg may go off in some direction, and you don’t know where it is, and you don’t have any idea of how you’re going to get it back. It really takes coordination.
Q: You’re an excellent outside shooter, something many centers can’t claim. How did you develop this?
Kresimir: When I used to play at center, I wouldn’t get the ball for five minutes, so I’d step out and play next to the guards. Then when it was my turn, I’d shoot it.
Q: Would you advise centers to get outside occasionally?
Kresimir: I think it’s good to stay in the center. Try to get all the tip-ins you can, and whenever you get a good shot, take it, of course. I like to get the ball and then see the situation. Whatever my opponents do, I do the opposite. You kind of let them commit themselves.
Q: You’re famous for your unbelievable passes. Can you tell young players how to develop that kind of passing?
Kresimir: I don’t know. In my hometown everybody does it. We just play that kind of playground ball. It’s kind of a feeling. You play by the feeling. You hit a man before he comes in there. That’s why I sometimes make really bad passes; the man starts to go, I throw the ball, and then he stops.
Q: It’s obvious to anyone who has seen you play that you enjoy yourself. What do you enjoy doing most on the basketball court?
Kresimir: Basketball is a beautiful game. I don’t think there are many games where you can really have fun like in basketball. It’s fun when you pass, block shots, jump—you know. That’s why I think it’s important how you feel when the crowd is up. In Zadar when the crowd gets up, it’s a crazy house. I have played all over the world, but I wouldn’t change that crowd for any other. We’ve got 2,700 seats, and our place is just too small. Six thousand people try to squeeze in, so it’s loud, and you can hear it. If 7:30 is game time, at 5:30 the house is full. It’s so full that if you don’t get there early, it’s all over.
Q: Do you think the crowd can really make a difference in the way a player performs?
Kresimir: Yes. You play much better if the crowd is up. Sometimes you don’t feel good, or you have to study, or you have pain or are sick or something; then the crowd can wake you up.
Q: You surprised a lot of people when you joined the Church. Could you tell us something about your conversion?
Kresimir: I had never heard about the Church before I came here. In Yugoslavia most of the young people are completely atheistic, and that’s the way I lived. When I came to Provo I didn’t change. I was an atheist for two years while I was in Provo. Nobody was farther from becoming a Mormon than I was. I just lived my way, and people lived their way. I obeyed all the rules of BYU, tried to be as good as I could, and tried to play ball and do my studying and other things. When I was a junior, I decided to figure out a few things. I had things I wanted to know.
I didn’t decide to join the Church because of any one thing. There were some things that I wanted to know. I had a few questions that no one could answer. It just happened. We as Mormons believe in personal things everyone can know by himself. It all depends on how bad you want to know something. That’s the whole point. If we have a desire in the Church to know something, we will know it; there’s no question about that. If something is really bothering you, you probably go to somebody for advice. If it’s football you want to know about—what kind of a play you are going to play—you can ask me, and I don’t have any idea. I just can’t help. It’s the same if you’re going to the wrong church. They can’t give you an answer. So you ask, and find out, and you join the true church. So I just decided to join the Church.
Q: I’ve heard that the Book of Mormon impressed you very much when you were studying the Church. Is this true?
Kresimir: Of course. You just read the book and want to get baptized—and that’s it.
Q: Who gave you the book?
Kresimir: You can buy those books for 50 cents.
Q: What impressed you about the Book of Mormon?
Kresimir: Well, it’s certainly the best book I have ever read. There’s no question about that. The book applies to today’s people much more than in the days when Joseph Smith translated it, because it speaks about the way it is now. I was traveling all over the world, and I saw many places, and I saw most of the prophecies being fulfilled; it’s amazing. That really is a good book. There are many things in it that are coming true now.
Q: Were your friends in Yugoslavia surprised when they learned you had joined the Church?
Kresimir: You bet they were surprised. That’s the last thing they thought was going to happen.
Q: You are a national hero. Has your popularity suffered since you joined the Church? Do people think you are strange or weird?
Kresimir: Almost everyone thinks I’m crazy anyway, so that’s nothing new. As far as popularity goes, I just live my life normally and play because I have fun. Now people know I’m a Mormon; some of them don’t think becoming a Mormon was too smart a thing to do—most of them don’t—but they just have to take me that way, and that’s it.
Q: Did joining the Church change your goals in life?
Kresimir: Of course. We talk all the time about being born again. Especially if you have lived the way I did, you better be born completely. You don’t just get in the middle. You’ve got to change all things.
Q: Have you been happier since becoming a member of the Church?
Kresimir: Of course. And if I hadn’t known I would be, I wouldn’t have been baptized.
Q: I’ve heard that while you were at the Y you spent quite a bit of time speaking to firesides and other youth groups.
Kresimir: When I was baptized I changed completely. It’s a completely different story to be a Mormon and a non-Mormon. I didn’t like to speak in public, but I got to thinking later on, “I have to.” There are some things we’ve got to help others with; it doesn’t make any difference if we like it or not. I like to live and I like to have fun. It was kind of uncomfortable to have to speak all the time. But it was okay, if people wanted to hear me. I told them what I thought, not what they wanted to hear.
Q: Speaking of fun, have you found that joining the Church has interfered with your having fun?
Kresimir: I think that’s really the best part, because you can really have much bigger fun. I mean like when we talk about sin; sin does not seem so bad the day you do it. Of course you have fun when you go to parties and that, but you have so many troubles afterwards. It’s not worth it at all. And this gospel is really nice now and afterwards also.
I really believe that living the gospel is fun, but it is hard. It’s hard to really live it. It’s not hard if you don’t. You can be a member on paper with everyone and do some of the same things. It’s not hard to play with the team if you can just sit on the bench, if you don’t have to practice or anything. But if you’ve got to go all the time, then it’s kind of difficult.
But I don’t think it’s worthwhile to ask if there is any sacrifice. There’s no sacrifice at all. You don’t sacrifice anything when you invest five cents and receive a thousand dollars in return.
Q: I’ve heard that you’re quite a student of the scriptures. Is this true?
Kresimir: No, I just read normally. I believe that the scriptures are the best part of literature, so why not read them? I used to spend hours reading magazines—just to pass the time. Or I’ve played cards for days and days and nights and nights, and I’ve smoked and drunk and all those things—just to pass the time! I still like to read magazines or the funnies sometimes or do things just to pass the time, but most of the time, when you’re able to get the time, it’s stupid to just let it pass. Of course, I’m not telling anybody else how to spend his time.
Q: What have you learned from your world travels?
Kresimir: I got a chance to talk to people. That’s why we are all here. The gospel really teaches you to try. You have to meet the people. You really can get acquainted; you can get inside and enjoy the way different people live.

A friend from college days wrote to me recently, saying: “Much in my chaotic childhood was uncertain, but one thing I knew for sure: that my dad loved me. That certainty was the anchor of my young life. I came to know and love the Lord because my father loved him. I have never called anyone a fool or taken the Lord’s name in vain because he told me the Bible said I shouldn’t. I have always paid my tithing because he taught me it was a privilege to do so. I have always tried to take responsibility for my mistakes because my father did. Even though he was estranged from the Church for a [time], at the end of his life he served a mission and worked faithfully in the temple. In his will he said that any money left over from taking care of his [family] should go to the Church. He loved the Church with all of his heart. And because of him, so do I.”

When I was a young boy, we had no running water in our homes and no electricity. I can remember clearly when electricity first came to Bunkerville. I also remember my father and me taking horses and a big water wagon up to a spring in the mountains and bringing back drinking water to fill our man-made cistern. We would have to clean out the cistern before putting the fresh water into it. When we needed drinking water, we pumped it out by hand and carried it into the house in buckets.

Two years passed. One day I asked Roberta if she would travel with me to the city of Foggia, where I was to receive my patriarchal blessing. She agreed to go, mostly because she hadn’t been on a trip in a while.
While Roberta waited in another room, Brother Vincenzo Conforte gave me a wonderful blessing. Afterward, I was so caught up in the Spirit that I completely forgot about Roberta, who must have been feeling like a fish out of water as she waited for me. But Brother Conforte noticed her. When he learned she was not a member of the Church, he humbly knelt by her chair. Looking into her eyes, he bore a sweet and powerful testimony. God truly lived and loved her, he testified, and she could come to know Him through simple prayer.
That testimony touched Roberta’s heart. And it completely changed the way I thought about sharing the gospel with others. With that simple gesture, the patriarch taught me how to be a true witness of God.
Since I had this experience, many of my friends have come into the Church. My friend Roberta is even considering studying the gospel. And I have learned something I will never forget: Whenever we testify of the Savior and His gospel, we must do so with love.

When I was about nine, I wanted to grow a mustache. I thought I could do this by shaving my face every day. For several days I used my father’s razor to shave. One day my father saw me shaving. He warned me not to do it because I could cut myself.
I am sorry to say I disobeyed my dad. The next day I shaved again. As I was shaving, the razor slipped from my soapy fingers. It made a deep gash above my lip. I was pretty scared as I bandaged my lip. But I was even more afraid of what my father would say.
When he came home that night and saw my cut, he was surprised and worried. He asked how it happened.
“Well,” I said, “I was running down the sidewalk, and I fell on my face.”
I had lied! First I had disobeyed, and now I had been dishonest! That night I couldn’t sleep. It was late, but I had to tell Dad the truth. I found him in the living room.
“Dad, I lied to you,” I said. “I didn’t fall down. I cut myself shaving with the razor. I’m sorry.”
My dad was quiet for a moment. Then he gently said, “You did disobey, Son. That is not a good thing. But I’m proud that you decided to tell the truth.”
That lesson—and the actual scar—has stayed with me every day since then.

I want to thank Dan Lindstrom whose fireside talk “My Own Movie” was printed in the April 1979 New Era. When I read it, I was having trouble with the missionary work. In our apartment was a stack of old New Eras, and I found myself reading them from cover to cover. I would rise each day at 5:00 A.M. just to read them. One day I read the article by Brother Lindstrom, and it sank home. I started to question myself, and found I needed some great improvement. Since then I have been very careful in what I do and say. I have given myself to the work, and success is finally coming my way.
Elder Bryan CookFlorida Ft. Lauderdale Mission

During another time in my life, my husband and I moved to California. I was pregnant with our first child. We knew no one in the area.
We went to church, and a woman named Virginia greeted me enthusiastically. She said she had a bunch of boys and wanted to invite me to lunch. She was very sweet.
Virginia served simple tomato soup and half a grilled cheese sandwich and was so pleasant. We became friends. And oh, we were so different! She was just so friendly! To a young soon-to-be mom who knew no one, she was a lifeline. That one invitation led to a lifelong friendship.

Before I went to FSY I prayed because I wanted to know what it is like to go on a mission and whether I should go on a mission myself. It didn’t take long before we had a lesson on being a missionary and I am glad to say that I really learned a lot. I’m also grateful that I had the opportunity to meet other youth that go through what I do every day. Look for more on Joshua in the article “Youth in Greece.”
Joshua K., 16, Athens, Greece

From her home near the mouth of Emigration Canyon in Salt Lake City, Sareah Gardner can hear the lions roar. It’s nothing new for her to be lying in bed at night and hear the elephants trumpeting. And if it’s really still, she’ll listen for the seals barking. The noise from a wide variety of animals is one of the advantages of living near a zoo.
Another advantage is that Sareah is close enough to Hogle Zoo that she can walk to work, something she has done each summer since 1987, when she became one of the zoo’s junior zookeepers. In this program, young people with an interest in animals can help take care of the animals by feeding them, cleaning their cages, and taking them for walks. It gives them hands-on experience with a variety of animals, and, in Sareah’s case, helps them decide if working with animals is something they want to do for a career.
“It’s a great chance to be involved with the animals, and to learn about them,” says Sareah, who thought she wanted to be a veterinarian when she began in the program. Now, graduated from high school, she says she’d rather do something involving wildlife biology.
But back when she first became a junior zookeeper, Sareah wasn’t sure if the job was for her. “When I first started, I thought, What have I gotten myself into? I didn’t expect it to be what it was.” It turned out that Sareah was asked to clean the cages her first day on the job. It wasn’t very fun, and it certainly wasn’t very glamorous. “The job has become more enjoyable, and I don’t mind what I’m doing when I’m doing the worst job,” says a more experienced Sareah, reflecting on her first days at the zoo.
Sareah’s interest in animals stems from family camping trips where she would go with her older brother and look for animal tracks, hoping to see different forms of wildlife. “It was a really neat thing to be the one who spotted the animal first, not just to see it,” she says. “Those trips have given me an appreciation for wilderness, and helped interest me in animals.”
When Sareah’s not camping, she can step into her yard and usually find animals roaming there, as well. In the nine years her family has lived in the house near the zoo, they’ve had skunks, porcupines, deer, raccoons, and quail stopping for a visit. The most recent inhabitant was a pheasant, and they’ve even had a rattlesnake stalking the premises. It’s no wonder Sareah considers her yard a refuge park.
With college in Sareah’s future, her days as a junior zookeeper are numbered. Learning about different animals has been one of the enjoyable parts of her job. In college, she expects the learning to only intensify.
As far as a career goes, she’s leaving her options open. Sareah does know that because of her love for animals, a job with animals is definitely in her future.