Gospel Story Finder

The row of strawberry plants seemed to stretch into infinity. I picked another handful of the plump red berries and dropped them into my carrier. I would have to pick a lot of them to pay for the blue jeans I wanted for school next fall.
Mom works hard to take care of Joey and me. We have everything we need, but Joey and I know Mom can’t afford expensive things—like the blue jeans at Stovers. They cost thirty dollars a pair. I was sure all the girls at my new school would be wearing them, and I just had to have a pair.
I had tried to get a summer job, but no one wanted a fulltime baby-sitter, and I’m not old enough to work in the stores. There aren’t many jobs available when you’re only fourteen. Then I saw Mr. Baker’s ad in the paper: “Berry pickers wanted.”
Joey bounced up from the sofa, “Hey, Marcie! Can I come too?”
I shook my head. “The ad says you have to be twelve, and your birthday is still three weeks away.”
Joey pushed a lock of red hair out of his face and his blue eyes sparkled. “I can hardly wait to get a paper route,” he said.
Getting a paper route was all Joey had talked about since we moved here. Mom agreed to let him apply for one when he turned twelve.
When Mom came home from work, I showed her the ad.
“Berry picking is hard work, Marcie. You’ll have to get up very early every morning to catch the bus,” she warned.
“But it’s the only way I can earn money for the school clothes I want.”
Mom smiled. “You can try it. I know how much you want those blue jeans.”
“Thanks, Mom!” I shouted, throwing my arms around her.
In the morning the excitement I had felt began to evaporate. I didn’t know any of the kids waiting for the bus. By the time it came. I’d almost made up my mind to go home. Instead I found myself being pushed aboard the bus with the crowd.
When we reached the berry field, I wondered if Mr. Baker would hire me, but he smiled and handed me a punch card and a carrier. I followed the other kids into the field.
I was soon tired of bending over so I got down on my knees. A berry whizzed past my head and I looked up to see where it came from. Two boys were picking up berries from their carriers and firing them at each other.
The girl in the next row looked over and smiled. She had a bright red scarf over her dark hair, and her hazel eyes looked friendly. “Don’t pay any attention to those two,” she said. “They’re always doing that.”
“Have you worked here long?” I asked.
She nodded. “I started when the field first opened. Mr. Baker pays a bonus if you stay the season. My name is Alice. You’re new, aren’t you?”
“We moved here last month. My name is Marcie. This is the first time I’ve tried picking strawberries.”
Alice smiled. “It’s hard work at first, but you get used to it. I earn enough money for my school clothes. We’ll finish here in three weeks, then the raspberries will be ready.” Alice picked up her full carrier. “Want me to save you a seat on the bus this afternoon?”
“Thanks, I’d like that.”
“See you later,” Alice said and started for the berry shed.
It felt good to know I wasn’t the only one earning money for school clothes. I liked Alice and hoped we would become friends.
Before quitting time, my knees hurt too much to kneel down and my back ached from bending over. It took a long time to fill my carrier. Now I knew why Mr. Baker paid a bonus for staying the season.
“Quitting time!” the field supervisor called. Everyone hurried to the berry shed.
“Anyone want to cash in their cards?” Mr. Baker asked. Some of the kids turned theirs in and got paid. “How about you?” he asked. I hesitated for a moment, then shook my head. Mr. Baker smiled. “See you tomorrow then, unless it rains.”
I climbed aboard the bus and sat down next to Alice, but I was almost too tired to talk.
Joey met me at the door with a big grin on his face. “I’m going to get a paper route!” he shouted. “Mr. Rivers says there will be one open the day after my birthday! It’s the area between Williams and Miller streets. Now we can both help Mom by earning extra money!”
I remembered that the bus had gone past those two streets on the way home. Joey was so proud, I didn’t have the heart to tell him how far he would have to walk.
After the first couple of days, berry picking did get easier. By the following week, I could pick almost as fast as Alice. Maybe I can earn enough for two pairs of jeans! I thought.
The sky clouded over the next Monday, and on the way home it started to rain. “Do you think we’ll be able to pick tomorrow?” I asked.
Alice shook her head. “Not if this keeps up. Rain makes the berries soft, and the cannery won’t take them.”
It rained all the next day. I watched the sky anxiously and wondered if there would be any good berries left to pick. I could never earn enough for the jeans if it didn’t stop soon.
Joey came in soaking wet. “What are you doing out in the rain?” I asked.
Joey wiped his face, “I have to learn my paper route. The kid who has it now is teaching me.” Then he smiled and added, “I stopped at the secondhand shop to look at bikes too.”
Tuesday night the rain stopped and my hopes soared. There were still three days left to pick!
I worked as fast as I could. By Friday afternoon the field was finished. Everyone lined up to get paid. I had filled five punch cards and had two punches on the sixth. Mr. Baker smiled and counted out $43.40. “Come back next year,” he said. “You’re a good worker,”
On the way home, Alice said, “I start picking raspberries next week. Would you like to come with me?”
“Are they as hard to pick as strawberries?” I asked.
Alice smiled, “No, silly, you pick them standing up.”
“Good!” I laughed. “It will be fun working together.”
Mom was in the kitchen frosting a cake when I got home.
“I made $43.40!” I shouted, waving the bills in the air. “With what I’ve already saved, I have $51.20!”
Mom was decorating the cake when I came down the stairs. It’s Joey’s birthday! I’d been so busy I had forgotten it.
I rushed out of the house and stopped at the second-hand shop.
“May I help you?” the man asked.
I described Joey. “Do you know what bike he comes in here to look at?”
The man smiled and pointed to a red and white bike. “He’s almost worn it out just looking at it,” he said.
I thought about how far Joey had to walk to deliver papers, then I looked at the price tag and gasped.
“Hurry up, Marcie!” Joey exploded halfway through supper.
“Calm down, Joey,” Mom said. “Let your sister finish eating.”
“Go ahead and serve the cake, Mom,” I said.
Joey made a wish and blew out the candles. Mom handed him her gift. Joey ripped off the paper.
“Oh, boy!” he shouted. “A baseball mitt!”
Mom raised her eyebrows in surprise when I wheeled in my gift to Joey. “I start picking raspberries next week,” I said quickly.
I’m not sorry I spent the money, I decided. The look on Joey’s face when he saw the bike was worth the price of a dozen pairs of blue jeans!

Bowling also teaches you to “follow through and keep going.” How has this helped you to overcome challenges? Before I release my bowling ball, I must keep my body in proper alignment, especially my arm, hand, and wrist. Even a slight turn of the wrist can send the ball off course. This is also true for my spiritual and personal growth.
When I experienced ongoing bullying from a peer, I was troubled for a time. I sought advice and comfort from my parents and seminary teacher and through studying the prophet’s counsel and the scriptures. The bully eventually moved away, and I was able to “course correct” by remembering my divine worth.

One day at school, a few of my classmates were making fun of another student by calling him names. It looked like fun, so I joined them. For a few weeks, I made fun of him with my friends.
Several weeks later, the boy told me how he was feeling. He was hurt by our words even though he pretended like he didn’t care that we were making fun of him. He said he cried every night. I almost cried when he told me. I wanted to help him and decided to apologize for what I had said to him.
So the next day, I went up to him and put my arm around his shoulder. I said, “I’m really sorry that I made fun of you.” He nodded at my words, and his eyes filled up with tears. But the other kids were still making fun of him. Then I remembered what I learned in my Primary class: choose the right.
I told my classmates valiantly, “Stop making fun of him! Do you guys know how hard this has been for him? Please say you’re sorry for what you have done and be his friend.”
But they wouldn’t change that easily. Instead, they were mad at me and said, “What’s the matter with you all of a sudden? You made fun of him too!”
I still felt bad for what I had done before. So I said, “I already said sorry to him. I want you to understand how he feels and stop making fun of him too.”
One of them said sorry, and the three of us became good friends. A few people still make fun of him, but he feels better because he has us. I will choose the right by helping a friend in need.

I joined the Church at age 15, and four years later I submitted my missionary application. At the interview with my stake president, he complimented me for deciding to serve the Lord as a full-time missionary. Then that inspired leader said something that made a profound impression on me: “Brother, from now on, strange things will happen in your life to try to get you to change your mind about your decision to serve the Lord.”
While waiting for my mission call, I was working as a trainee at Xerox. This work made it possible for me to obtain some of the things that I would need for the mission field and to help my mother with expenses at home. Things were going very well.
Unfortunately, “strange things” did begin to happen. First, my mother was assaulted and almost died from her injuries, but a kind Heavenly Father miraculously spared her life.
At that time, my mother, two younger sisters, and I were living in a rented house. We lived off my income and a small benefit that my mother received because of my father’s death years before.
Some people, including Church members, would ask, “Are you going to have the courage to leave your mother like this and go on a mission?” Hearing this question over and over began to cause doubts in my heart.
One day my stake president called and told me that my mission call had arrived and asked me to come to his office that evening so he could give me the much-awaited envelope from Church headquarters. I was both nervous and happy at the news.
On the same day, my manager at work asked to talk to me before lunch. When I entered his office, I was greeted in a friendly manner, and we talked for a few minutes about my training and what I had learned at the company. Then, that powerful man in the organization said something that was the dream of most of the people in the city: “You have done a good job here as a trainee, and we want to hire you and keep you on the team. What do you think?”
This was one of the most difficult decisions of my life. The seconds felt like eternity. It seemed that I could hear people asking me if I was going to abandon my mother without my financial support and go to the mission field.
Nevertheless, I remembered the things I had learned from the scriptures and my Church leaders, and in a very sacred way, I knew with an unshakable certainty that God wanted me to serve as a full-time missionary of His Church. I knew that He would take care of my family, that I could trust Him, and that everything would be fine.
I explained the situation to my manager, and his reply still echoes in my mind: “I thought that you were such a level-headed young man, and here you are throwing away the opportunity of your life.”
I thanked him from the bottom of my heart for his offer, and 28 days later I reported to the missionary training center in São Paulo, Brazil.
During my mission, the Lord provided for my family’s needs through Church friends and in miraculous ways. My mother’s health was restored and new job opportunities arose for my sisters and her.
“Strange things” really do happen when we decide to serve the Lord. Yet I would humbly add my testimony to the testimonies of thousands of others who have embarked in the service of God that missionary service has profoundly affected my life.

When my oldest son became a deacon and an Eagle Scout, a picture of an eagle came to my mind as I thought of him and his future. We were living in Idaho near the base of the South Teton mountain, where we hiked together and watched the eagles soar. That picture in my mind gave me the feeling of Isaiah’s words:
“He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.
“Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall:
“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”
In fact, with that oldest son, we had stopped hiking below the peak of the South Teton because my son grew weary. He wanted to stop. He said, “Will I always be sorry that we didn’t make it to the top? Dad, you go on—I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
I replied, “I’ll never be disappointed, and you’ll never be sorry. We’ll always remember that we climbed here together.” At the top of his height board, I carved an eagle and the inscription “On Eagles’ Wings.”
Over the years, my son soared higher as a missionary than I had imagined in my fondest hopes. In the challenges of the mission field, some of what he faced seemed to be above his reach. For the boy you lift, it may be, as it was for my son, that the Lord lifted him higher in preaching the gospel in a difficult language than I had thought possible. If you will try with any young man to sense his priesthood possibilities, I promise you the Lord will tell you as much as you need. The boy may have potential even beyond what the Lord will reveal to you. Help him aim high.

In a faraway country many years ago there lived a king who was very unhappy. He had much land and many servants. He had many riches and fine clothes and fast chariots. But he was not happy.
One day the king said, “Perhaps I would be happy if we changed the color of the velvet hangings in the throne room. Royal blue might be a better color.” And all the servants in the royal palace ran to change the color of the velvet hangings in the throne room.
When this was done the king sat on his throne and looked at the beautiful blue folds of the shimmering velvet hangings, and he liked them. But he was not happy.
Perhaps if I had white rabbit fur on my royal robe, that would make me happy, thought the king. So all the king’s trappers scurried around and caught enough rabbits to trim the royal robe with rabbit fur. Then the king sat on his throne dressed in the royal robe trimmed with rabbit fur and the people all admired him. But he was not happy.
Said the king, “Perhaps if I had six horses instead of four to pull my chariot through the streets, then I would be happy.” The servants in the fields brought in another span of fine white horses for the king’s golden chariot, and the king rode through the streets with six horses pulling his chariot. Although the people smiled and waved to him, the king still was not happy.
One day a wise man said, “Oh, king, there are many people in your kingdom who have not half as much as you and yet they are happy. Perhaps if you could wear the shirt of one of them, it would make you happy too.” The king thought about this suggestion and decided that it was a good idea. So he dressed in some old clothes and left on foot to travel throughout his kingdom, seeking a man who was perfectly happy.
The first man he came to was fishing from a small boat on a beautiful blue lake. The king beckoned to him and the man rowed to shore. “Are you happy?” asked the king.
“Of course,” said the man.
“Are you quite sure you are perfectly happy?” asked the king again.
“Well,” said the man, “if I had a bigger boat I could go out farther and get bigger fish. Then I would be even happier.”
“Too bad,” said the king and went on.
The next man he met was chopping wood in the forest with a large axe. “Are you happy?” the king asked.
“Of course,” said the man.
“Are you quite sure you are perfectly happy?” asked the king.
“Well,” said the woodcutter, “if I had a saw that would run by itself and do the cutting faster, I would be happier.”
“Too bad,” said the king.
The next man he met was plowing a field with a hand plow and a single golden ox. The sun was shining, the farmer was whistling, the birds were following in the furrows behind him, and little breezes lifted the grass along the bank where his plow went.
“Are you happy?” called the king.
“Yes,” said the man as he went whistling along.
“Are you perfectly happy?” asked the king. “Don’t you wish you had a fine team of horses to pull your plow?”
“No,” said the man. “I like the easy pace of my faithful friend, and I like to smell the good air. I enjoy watching the rich earth turn into furrows, and it gives me pleasure to whistle along with the birds.”
“Aha,” said the king to himself. “Here is a perfectly happy man.” Walking up to the farmer the king asked, “Where is your shirt that I may borrow it?”
“Oh,” said the happy man, “I have no shirt, for I need none. The sun is warm, the plowed earth is soft to my feet, the breezes keep the air sweet, the birds sing with me as I walk, and I am perfectly happy.” Then the man started down another row.
“Wait,” said the king. And he took off his shirt and laid it on the ground. He put his hand to the plow and worked all day with the man. The sun warmed him, the birds sang to him, and the man talked to him of the good and beautiful things of the earth.
And the king was happy.

When I was a mission president, one of my responsibilities was to interview elders and sisters who had completed their missions and were returning home. I always asked what they were taking home as a result of their mission. I didn’t want to know what was inside their suitcases; I wanted to know what was inside of them.
One elder said, “I am going home liking myself.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
He said, “All my life I have wanted to be someone else. I was envious of the guy at high school who was popular with the girls. I wanted to be him. I was jealous of the guy who owned the red sports car. I wanted to be him. I wanted to be the quarterback of the football team.
“And when I arrived in the mission field, I had the same problem. I wanted to be the assistant to the president or the elder who could always quote the right scripture at the right time. I was always wishing I could be somebody else.”
“However, as I have served these two years, I have realized who I really am. I am a son of God. I have a good relationship with my Savior and my fellowmen. I have a greater love for my parents and my family. And I realize that I have talents I can develop and share and that others have their talents. I’m grateful for what I’ve been given. I’m no longer envious of what others have that I may not have. I’m going home feeling good about myself.”
I too had a good feeling about this elder and what was inside of him. How happy I was that he had come to appreciate himself and make that appreciation part of his life’s philosophy. Over the years, it has been a joy to see how this young man has developed and matured by sharing himself and his talents with others.

Benny’s mind raced back to the day of Charlie Roger’s birthday party when they played Pin the Tail on the Donkey. Benny remembered how he had walked in what seemed to be a straight line toward the donkey, but when he pinned the tail on, it was far to the right. Most of the other boys and girls walked far to the right too.
That night Benny had asked his father, “Why do we turn to the right when we think we’re going straight?”
“When we can’t see,” his father told him, “we move to the right or left because our bodies are not perfectly balanced. Most right-handed people tend to turn to the right because the muscles on that side of their bodies are better developed and slightly heavier.
“When we can see, we compensate for this imbalance without thinking. But in a fog, for instance, people often walk in circles when they think they are going straight.”
What’s true of fog must be true of a snowstorm, thought Benny. I’ll have to concentrate on moving to the left and hope we’ll end up at the cabin.
“Come on,” he said to Gordy. “Let’s go on now.”
Benny started out again, moving slightly to his left. After traveling for a while, he felt a tug on the scarf. He realized that Gordy was signaling for him to stop.
“What’s the matter?” Benny called above the noise of the wind.
“You keep going too far to the left!” Gordy exclaimed. “We should have gone straight. Now we’re lost and we’ll never find the cabin.”
“We’ll find it, Gordy,” Benny promised him. “Just trust me, and we’ll be there soon.”
When they started out again, Benny felt Gordy following reluctantly. The snow continued to swirl around them in thick clouds, and all Benny could see was a heavy mist of white. Even when he turned back to encourage Gordy, he could barely see his friend through the whirling snowflakes.
Before long Benny felt a tug on the scarf and turned to hear Gordy call, “We’re lost. What will we do?”
“No, we’re not lost,” Benny answered. “We’re almost there.”
Benny’s voice was strong against the wind and sounded full of confidence, but inside he was beginning to wonder if he hadn’t made a mistake. Yet he knew they had to keep moving.
Benny quickly moved one snowshoe ahead of the other, giving a little tug on the scarf. Gordy followed silently.
Suddenly Benny stopped. “There’s the cabin!” he shouted. “I see a little light over to the right.”
He felt the tension on the scarf relax as Gordy called, “Oh, Benny, I see it too!”
The boys hurried in the direction of the light, stumbling a little from fatigue and cold.
“We were right on top of it!” Benny said as the boys circled around to the front porch.
Benny could hear his father’s voice calling through the storm.
“We’re here on the porch, Dad!” Benny answered.
Swinging a lantern, Benny’s father came around from the back of the cabin.
“I’m certainly glad to see both of you,” he said, holding up the light to see the boys. “I’ve been calling and calling for you ever since the storm started. I didn’t dare move out of sight of the cabin, for I knew it wouldn’t help if I got lost too.”
“Well, I thought we were lost,” said Gordy, “but Benny knew just where to go.”
“You can tell me all about it when you’ve changed your clothes and had some hot chocolate,” Benny’s father said. “The important thing is that you’re here.”
As the boys hurried into the warm cabin, they looked at each other and smiled. “You’re right, Dad,” Benny said. “The important thing is that we’re here.”

In family home evenings or in Sunday School, we would practice lines that would help us stand up to peer pressure. I couldn’t wait to use these lines. For example, I imagined hanging out with my friends. Someone would pull out some alcohol and pass it around. The beer can would be handed to me, and all eyes would be looking in my direction. The pressure would mount. I would stand up and say, “No! I am a Mormon, and I don’t drink!” All the kids would be in awe. No amount of their persuasion would convince me. Soon the party would disperse, and someone special in the crowd would tell me I had impressed him so much with my firm stance that he wanted to learn more about my church. Angels would sing praises, and I would be filled with light.

Young Women in the Park Ridge Ward, Brisbane Australia Stake, are not content to wait for service opportunities to present themselves. They go out and find them. For their service project a couple of years ago, the girls went to a nearby blind hostel and visited the people who were staying there.
“At first, everyone was a bit nervous, not knowing where to go or what to say. Gradually the barriers of age and sight were overcome and the young women were chatting and learning about their new friends’ lives,” says Sariah Wesener, a Laurel.
The girls made the project a monthly activity, and were soon performing concerts for their newfound friends. After travel became too difficult, the girls had to say good-bye to the residents of the blind hostel, but they have decided to find ways to serve others every month.
This year, each girl is donating a can of food per month to those in need.

A few years ago, Rachel and Melissa were both at home on a Saturday afternoon. The doorbell rang, and Rachel greeted two nicely dressed young men at the door. She thought they were salesmen. Their dad, Gerry, agreed to chat with the young men, who were actually full-time missionaries. Life in the Clancy home changed forever when the girls and their father were baptized.

The Clancy girls soon discovered that living their new religion meant having most of their friendships with people of other faiths, a role that both missionary-minded girls embrace. But where does their strength come from? Some comes from a handful of LDS friends and leaders, but most of what makes these girls strong is what happens within the walls of their home.

This family knows how to work together. Rachel handles laundry, including ironing, while Melissa helps with some of the outside chores, like mowing the lawn. They both look after their younger brother and sister, Matt and Stefany, while their dad is at work or handling Church responsibilities.

The Clancys know how to play, too. In fact, both girls say that most of their best gospel learning experiences come from conversations during fun times with the family jumping on the trampoline, hiking, or swimming.

“This year Dad and Matt and I spent several days hiking at a place called Ayers Rock,” says Rachel. “I like hiking but I’m afraid of heights and this was a really steep hike. We stopped and said a prayer and I felt better. When we got to the top there was a beautiful view. My dad and I talked about how it was a lesson about enduring to the end. It’s my favorite memory from that hiking trip.”

After high school, I decided to serve a mission. But I had some unexpected medical problems that kept me from leaving when I expected to.
I had to be patient, but I was eventually called to the Mexico Guadalajara East Mission. There, I taught many amazing people and even helped some of them be baptized. But even with my faith, obedience, and hard work, none of them stayed active in the Church.
Often, life events are out of our control. I couldn’t instantly solve my medical problems. And I can’t force others to live the gospel. But I can trust in the Lord’s timing and way.

Their married life got off to a great start. Leonie and Frank saved up to buy land and build a house, which they completed soon after their honeymoon. The newlyweds enjoyed taking long walks together, playing cards with friends and going to balls, and when they eventually welcomed five beautiful children into their family, Leonie cherished being a mother. “Throughout our childhood and our lives, we always felt loved,” says Lisa.
After some time, the family’s fortunes changed. They lost their home and had to move several times as Frank sought reliable work. Times were hard, but Leonie never complained. “Mum always demonstrated incredible patience,” said Lisa. She was an excellent cook who would brighten her children’s days with great food and fun activities. “I knew we weren’t all that well off, but thanks to Mum, I had no idea how poor we really were.”

One father could not forgive his son for departing from the path he had been taught. The boy had friends the father did not approve of, and he did many things contrary to what his father thought he should do. This caused a rift between father and son, and as soon as the boy could, he left home and never returned. They rarely spoke again.

Did the father feel justified? Perhaps.

Did the son feel justified? Perhaps.

All I know is that this family was divided and unhappy because neither father nor son could forgive each other. They could not look past the bitter memories they had about each other. They filled their hearts with anger instead of love and forgiveness. Each robbed himself of the opportunity to influence the other’s life for good. The divide between them appeared so deep and so wide that each became a spiritual prisoner on his own emotional island.

On a trip to Japan it was my privilege to attend a sacrament meeting of the Naha Branch on the island of Okinawa. I was so impressed with the quality of the sacrament service and the reverence and dignity exhibited by the Aaronic Priesthood that when I was called to speak I asked one of the young men to join me at the pulpit. I asked him, “How do you feel knowing that you hold the priesthood of God?” Not tall enough to see over the pulpit, he raised on his toes so he could see the congregation, then with deep emotion responded: “It’s the greatest honor of my life!”

Would you like to share the gospel but just aren’t sure how to approach your friends? The teenagers in the Lake Butler Ward, Lake City Florida Stake, participated in a nine-week program for fellowshipping that helped them realize sharing the gospel is not as hard as it seems.
Every week they were assigned a specific activity to strengthen each other and get their nonmember friends interested in the gospel. In the ninth week the ward mission leader and his wife planned a party for the youth. The ticket required to get into the party was a nonmember friend, but after the nine-week program, that was no problem for these young missionaries.
This is the plan they followed:
Week 1: Respond positively to negative comments you hear.
Week 2: Get to be better friends with a member of the ward.
Week 3: List your positive qualities, and another you’d like to develop.
Week 4: Pray about finding a friend to fellowship.
Week 5: Plan an approach to your fellowshipping. Each day do something to let your friend know about the Church and what you believe. Invite him to the activity.
Week 6: Pray about giving your friend a Book of Mormon.
Week 7: Give your friend a Book of Mormon with marked scriptures and your testimony. Talk to him or her about what you’ve written.
Week 8: Encourage your friends to come to the party.
Week 9: The party!
To keep the youth interested in a party that was so far away, the leaders delivered clues once a week to tell what would be happening at the party. None of the teenagers really knew what was going to happen, and the clues just seemed to confuse them even more. Even when they got to the party they still didn’t know all the details. They were divided into teams and sent on a treasure hunt that included whistling Dixie, blowing up balloons, and kissing a horse—all before the other teams could finish first. It all ended with a pool party and lots of fun for everyone. It was a great way to teach the youth that missionary work isn’t as hard as it seems, and an even better way to introduce more people to the gospel.

In 2022, my friends and I were riding a small, off-road vehicle in the desert when we got in a rollover crash. I woke up lying on the ground, covered in blood. I couldn’t feel a thing. Soon a helicopter came to take me to a hospital. I found out I had broken my neck in two places and that I was paralyzed from the shoulders down.
At first, it definitely tested my testimony. I kept thinking, “Why me?” I didn’t understand why all my friends walked away from the accident and I didn’t. I was a 16-year-old gymnast and cheerleader, and this was not what I’d pictured for my life.
One day after the accident I was having a really crummy day, and I didn’t want to get out of bed and go to physical therapy. But I went, and I saw a man there who was paralyzed and had been burned. He was smiling and talking to all the therapists, and I thought, “If he can do it, I can too.”
After that experience, I was able to focus more on gratitude. I realized how lucky I was, and I was able to accept my situation a little more. I realized I have to choose to wake up and focus on the good things, like my amazing family and the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I’ve found that helping other people helps me. I remember seeing a couple of teenagers at therapy who were paralyzed. I went up to them and talked to them, because I would have loved it if someone had done that for me.
So many people are going through hard things. At physical therapy, you see all these trials around you that are so visible. In high school, everyone is going through a lot too, but no one really knows it. It’s more hidden. There are all these labels, like “football player” and “cheerleader.” Sometimes it’s scary to break out of the labels and make new friends. I like cheer and tumbling, and I always thought that those things defined who I was.
But I realized that those labels aren’t everything in life. How people look, how different they are from you—those things don’t really matter. You can reach out to everyone and focus on helping them. And now some of my best friends are people I never would have imagined being friends with before.
After some time in a rehabilitation center, I have been able to gain movement in my arms and some feeling in my legs. I continue to progress every day.
I don’t know what my future’s going to be like, and without the Lord, I’d be pretty scared. But I recently got my patriarchal blessing, and it helps me feel confident that whatever happens, I’ll be OK. Reading the scriptures and saying my prayers every day has also helped me through a lot. Without Jesus Christ, I know that my struggles would feel so much worse. He helps me feel peace even when things are hard.
The author lives in Utah, USA.
Watch a message from Emily on the Gospel Living app!

I feel very blessed that at a young age I was taught the importance of keeping the Word of Wisdom. I committed myself to keeping that commandment. I remember a very prestigious competition in Germany, when I won the vaulting event. As I stood on the victory stand, I received a gold medal, flowers, and gifts. I couldn’t have been more pleased.
Before walking off of the stand, I noticed another individual coming forward with a silver cup, and I thought, “How great! Another prize!” But as the presenter moved closer with this cup, I noticed it was full of wine.
Turning to my German friend and competitor, I asked what it was for, and he explained that tradition calls for the champion to drink out of the cup and to pass it to the next athlete.
I told him, “Well, I don’t drink.”
He responded with: “Then just take a little sip and hand it to the next person.”
Then I explained, “No, it’s against my religion, and I can’t even take a sip.”
My friend proceeded to explain to the officials in German that I wouldn’t drink it, but for some reason they insisted I take the cup.
So I took the cup and held it high in the air for the crowd to see. And then, without taking a sip, I handed it down to the next person. I admit that amidst the laughter of the crowd I felt a bit embarrassed, but I felt proud that it was easy to say no. I believe that if we make proper decisions before we are faced with a temptation, we will find it much easier to resist that temptation.

Another convert expressed it this way: “As my husband and I were baptized, I had no idea just how involved we would become. My first calling was that of chorister in sacrament meeting.
“Then I was asked to be a Mia Maid leader. I asked the question, ‘What is a Mia Maid?’ I learned from experience. That is a girl at the delightful age of 14. The girls have so much enthusiasm and energy. I am thrilled with my calling in MIA. It keeps me feeling young and needed and busy.
“My husband, too, has held many positions in the ward, and his determination and dedication have been a strength to me.”

How do you remember to choose the right? Elder L. Tom Perry of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles tells a story about a young boy and his friends who found a package of cigarettes: “They decided to go down on the cliff alongside some large boulders and smoke. … They lit up, and the young man said that as he was looking down at the smoldering cigarette that he held between his fingers, he saw his CTR ring. He quickly put the cigarette out. … He chose to choose the right, as he remembered what the emblem stood for” (“‘Choose the Right,’” Ensign, Nov. 1993, 66).