Gospel Story Finder

Some years ago, Sister Sorensen and I had the privilege of visiting India. At one airport I remember walking across the landing strip and seeing some men sitting in front of wicker baskets, playing flutes. As they started to play the music, they would take the top off the basket and a cobra would appear! As the music continued, the snake would rise higher and higher, nearly reaching its full length until the cobra would collapse back into the basket. Once I noticed a cobra fall outside the basket. The man playing the flute reached over, petted the cobra, and carefully put it back into the basket. I was amazed that a man could handle such a dangerous creature, apparently without being harmed. But our guide quickly told me that this was very risky and told us that a major cause of death in this province was indeed poisonous snakebite.

Once I had my family history computer disk in my hands, I realized that the most important part of the work was still missing. I needed to go to the temple and provide my family beyond the veil with the ordinances that would enable them to be saved and join my family’s generations for eternity.
I was able to go to the temple when I went on my mission to Cochabamba, Bolivia. I began preaching the gospel in October 2000. A few months later my companion and I visited the temple with the youth from the ward where we were serving. I took my disk and was able to provide 599 names for ordinance work.
While I served as witness, my companion baptized the young people on behalf of my ancestors. What great joy I felt. The Spirit was with me, testifying of the truthfulness of what we were doing. I could feel my ancestors’ happiness and gratitude.
But there were other ordinances that still needed to be done. Because there were so many names, I turned them over to the temple. But I kept the names of my great-grandparents and their children, and later that month my companion and I, with the help of other missionaries, performed the work for them.
I am grateful to my Heavenly Father because, although I was far from my country and perhaps thought that I would baptize only the living, I was also able to participate in the work of redeeming the dead.

One elderly person had no knowledge of the county she was born in. She mistakenly said, “I don’t think we lived in a county because we lived in the country—way out there. My ancestors lived on the Muskrat Branch, and to the west of their place there was a big swamp that they called Blackwater Swamp. It was someplace in Virginia I think.”
With this information a county was identified, and the records of the family were found in the courthouse.

Emily’s family had spent a wonderful weekend at Grandma’s house, and now it was time to leave. Emily was sad to say good-bye but happy that it was her turn to fly home with Dad in his small airplane while her sisters and brother drove back with Mom in their car. Emily loved flying with Dad. It was so peaceful in the sky. She liked to gaze across the tops of the puffy clouds and pretend that she could jump down onto them and run about.
“We’d better get going,” Dad said. “Although when I turned in my flight plan, the airport official said that we should easily miss the storm coming in, it’s almost dusk. I don’t like to take chances, even on a short flight like this one.”
Emily hugged Grandma good-bye and climbed aboard. Soon they were in the air.
It quickly became dark and began to rain. “Are you OK, Emily?” Dad asked. Emily nodded. The weather was making the flight bumpy, but she did not mind. The bumps made her tummy tickle.
The storm grew worse. Rain pounded the windows, and lightning flashed all around. The little plane bucked and shook. Emily started feeling scared. She knew that Dad must be nervous, too, because he stopped talking to her and concentrated on flying.
Then Emily remembered something she had learned in Primary. Sister Adams had told them that whenever they were afraid, they could pray to Heavenly Father. “Dad, can we have a special prayer to help us get home safely?” she asked.
Dad smiled at her. “I’ve already been praying in my heart. Will you please say a prayer for us out loud?”
Emily closed her eyes and folded her arms. She asked Heavenly Father to bless them to fly safely home and to help her to not be afraid.
“Thank you for praying, Emily,” Dad said. “We should be home in about thirty minutes.”
Emily felt peaceful and calm. The wind and rain continued to lash the plane, and the ride was still bumpy, but she was no longer afraid. Instead, she felt sleepy.
When the wheels of the airplane hit the runway, they made a squeaky sound that awakened her. “We made it, honey,” Dad said. “Let’s go home.”
The next morning when Emily got up, there was a letter by her pillow.
Dear Emily,I wanted to tell you how much I love you. Last night I was afraid. I couldn’t believe that I had taken my little girl with me in such a bad storm. After your sweet prayer, I looked over to see how you were doing. When I saw that you were asleep, an overwhelmingly peaceful feeling came over me. I knew that if you could sleep while the plane was being tossed around in a lightning storm, you must have tremendous faith that we would be OK. Then I, too, had faith that we would be OK. I knew that Heavenly Father was watching over us and that I would be able to fly us home safely. Thank you, Emily, for not only having faith in me, but faith in our Father in Heaven.Love,Dad
Emily felt good inside. She loved Dad and her family so much! She knelt by her bed and thanked Heavenly Father for such a wonderful family and for the gospel. She couldn’t wait to get to school and tell her friends all about her airplane ride in the storm.

Chi Yun blew the cloud out of her mouth. Surely it was cold enough now in northeast China to make the cloud turn to ice. But it wasn’t. However, the thought of her breath turning to drops of ice made her giggle, and the muted sound filled the miniature ice pagoda. “Even the sounds are cold in Harbin,” she said and giggled again.
Humming a melody Papa had taught her, she slid across the ice floor. The sun, about to go down, sparkled through the side of the pagoda, making the ice bricks look like diamonds.
“We must go.” Papa interrupted her thoughts.
Chi Yun hated to leave. There was something magical about being alone inside walls of ice. But she knew that she would be back. Tonight the colored lights, frozen into the ice blocks, would be turned on to make rainbows of ice.
Her own name, Chi Yun, meant “rainbow in the sky.” Mama always said that Chi Yun was her rainbow that made all the storms worthwhile. Mama said that everyone needed a rainbow to carry in his heart so that dark, stormy days would be better.
“Come,” Papa called again.
“Yes, Papa.” Chi Yun left the dreamy ice pagoda and entered the smoggy world of Harbin.
Papa was already walking away. Chi Yun hurried to catch up to him. All around were palaces, cathedrals, animals, and dragons of ice.
At the edge of the park, they exited through the ice fence. Taxis honked, and bicycles jingled past trolleys that buzzed along electric cords. Chi Yun almost forgot about the magic of the ice carvings, but the cold air filled with Chinese voices more animated than usual reminded her that she was not the only one excited about the Ice Lantern Festival. Near the gate, vendors were setting up boothes of bing tanghulu (a sugared fruit on a stick), bear paws, salmon, nose of camel deer, and, of course, ice cream.
But Papa was starting up the road on his bicycle. There was no time for treats. If she didn’t hurry, she’d be left behind.
Chi Yun jumped on her bicycle and pedaled after Papa. It was frightening to travel the crowded streets, but today she kept her thoughts on the ice festival so that she wouldn’t think about the fear.
They rode past the Songhua river from which the blocks of ice had been cut to make the sculptures. At one hole, people in bathing suits were diving from stacks of ice blocks into the water. Chi Yun shuddered to think about it, but Papa had told her stories of the summers when he yearned for the cold winter swim and how much fun it was.
When they reached their small apartment, Mama was waiting. “Is it finished?” she asked. “Is it beautiful?”
Chi Yun was surprised that Mama was excited. Usually Mama was much to busy to be excited. “Oh, yes, Mama! Papa has built for his company the best ice pagoda of all. You will be proud.”
“We must hurry,” was all Papa said. “The lighting ceremonies are to begin soon.”
They ate quickly, then bundled and rode their bicycles back to the park. It was dark and without any magic at all. Chi Yun huddled close to Mama while Papa hurried ahead to the pagoda. Outside the gate, vendors shouted, crowds pushed, and taxis honked. It was difficult to even think of bing tanghulu in the shadowy dark.
But after a speech that Chi Yun could not hear, a rainbow of lights suddenly punctured the night. Red, blue, yellow, green began to blink in the ice with a brilliance that chased away the darkest of shadows. The magic was back!
Chi Yun walked around with Mama to see the beautiful sculptures. When they came to the replica of the old Russian church, Mama took her picture there. Chi Yun’s heart skipped as they passed the huge dragon, now alive with color. It had been magical this afternoon—now there was no word to describe its beauty. Soon they arrived at the pagoda. Papa was greeting visitors and telling them about how he had made it and about his company.
Waiting until no one else was inside, and closing her eyes, Chi Yun walked through the small door to where she had danced in the afternoon. She made her way to what she thought was its center, then opened her eyes. The sight took her breath away. She was enfolded in a rainbow.
She tried to memorize every ice brick and colored light so that the sight would still be hers long after it melted. She savored the chill around her and the scent of bear paws floating on the cold air. It was like a dream in which every happy dream she’d ever dreamed had come true. “It’s perfect!” she whispered aloud. “And when it is no longer perfect, this ice rainbow will still be in my heart. Its light will chase away the dark!”
“That’s right,” a voice behind her said.
Chi Yun jumped. She’d heard no one enter. She turned and saw Mama standing in a halo of yellow and red lights. “Always seek the light and keep it within your heart,” Mama said.
Chi Yun ran to Mama and hugged her tightly. “I will. This will be my rainbow memory.”
“Like you are mine, my little Chi Yun!” Mama smiled, adding, “And now it is time for bing tanghulu.”

I thought I had life pretty much figured out. I had lots of friends, and my week was jam-packed with seminary, school, Church activities, and cheerleading. So when the weekend came, I was ready to kick back with my friends and have some time just for me.
Then one day my parents put a giant cramp in my 10th-grade style. I could continue to have Friday nights for myself, but Saturday was to be their official date night. And guess who was to be their official babysitter for my 11-year-old brother? You guessed it: me. I protested that I was being forced to miss out on everything my friends were doing on Saturday nights, but to no avail. I just knew this was the beginning of something terrible.
The first Saturday babysitting night came around, and my brother picked out movies for us to watch. He excitedly began the first one as I pouted that this was going to be boring. When the movie began, I scanned the buffet of irresistible foods my parents had so strategically spread out on the table. The movies my brother had chosen were surprisingly not lame, and by the time all was said and done, we’d made quite a dent in the refreshments.
Another week passed and Saturday rolled around once more. This time we were going to make chocolate chip cookies together. They didn’t turn out exactly like our mom’s, but we didn’t struggle to choke them down. In fact, we started up a little contest to see who could eat the most chocolate chip cookies without drinking any milk. When I gave up and chugged my glass of ice-cold goodness, my brother smiled from ear to ear.
Over the next two years, my Saturdays were filled with trips to the mall, games at the bowling alley, late-night swims, eating out at just about every fast-food place imaginable, seeing movies, reading books, building forts, telling scary stories, and so much more. It didn’t take long for me to realize that my Saturday babysitting episodes were not the beginning of something terrible after all. They were the beginning of something wonderful.
Saturday nights together with my brother helped me learn one of the most important lessons of my life. I was not stuck at home with my brother while all of my friends were out having fun. That wasn’t even possible. I was no longer babysitting my brother; I was babysitting a friend.
I realize that we don’t get to choose who will be our brother or our sister, but we do get to choose who will be our friend. I’m grateful for all of our Saturday nights together that have allowed us the chance to choose each other.

When I was a teenager, my six-week-old sister, Carol, had whooping cough. Those were the days before antibiotics. I was working then as a mechanic at a bus station. I can remember coming home one night after my shift, seeing the lights on in my home, and knowing that it was a bad sign.
As I walked into the house, I saw Carol lying on the dining room table. She was having difficulty breathing and was turning blue from lack of air. We quickly summoned a neighbor, who joined Dad in giving her a blessing. I thought she was going to die, but I watched her stay alive by the power of the priesthood as they got her to the hospital. She stayed there for two or three weeks, and I continued to see the Lord bless her and help her get well. That experience of seeing the priesthood in action impressed itself forever upon my mind.

2. Be Honest with Yourself
A young woman on a university volleyball team tells of the time when she and her friend Muki were playing together in a championship match:
“I remember it being a close game. … Gracie [on our opponents’ team] rounded her approach, jumped, and smacked the ball as hard as she could. … The line judges signaled out, and the head official raised his finger to show a point for [our team]. We began giving our usual high fives when we noticed that Muki was hand-motioning to the official that she touched the ball on her block. Muki was calling her own touch.
“The quiet, withdrawn Muki had showed an act of integrity and honesty like I had never seen before. Gracie was so impressed that she talked with Muki after the match. … Muki later gave Gracie a Book of Mormon. I don’t know if Gracie has read the book … , but I do know that Gracie was touched by Muki’s example, as we all were.”2

At the age of 16, he left the Church of England and later became a lay preacher for the Methodist Church. On one occasion when he was with one of his parish members on the way to an appointment, he stopped in the road and said, “I have a strong impression on my mind, that I have to go to America to preach the gospel!”2 This impression remained with him.
When John Taylor did leave England in 1832, he traveled to Canada, following his family, who had emigrated in 1830. There he met and married Leonora Cannon. Canada was also where he encountered a missionary named Parley P. Pratt, an Apostle of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Many in the Methodist congregation where Elder Pratt preached were thrilled with his message until he told them of the Prophet Joseph Smith and the gold plates. Several of the men refused to listen further. John Taylor reminded them: “We are here, ostensibly in search of truth. Hitherto we have fully investigated other creeds and doctrines and proven them false. Why should we fear to investigate Mormonism? This gentleman, Mr. Pratt, has brought to us many doctrines that correspond with our own views. … We have prayed to God to send us a messenger, if He has a true Church on earth. … If I find his religion true, I shall accept it, no matter what the consequences may be.”3
John Taylor continued investigating the gospel, and on 9 May 1836 he and Leonora were baptized. In his later years, President Taylor remarked, “When I had investigated the subject, and became convinced that it was true, I said, ‘I am in for it; I must embrace it; I cannot reject the principles of eternal truth.’”4

When I was a boy, I looked forward to passing the sacrament to the ward members. We deacons were trained as to our duties. One of the men in our ward, Louis, suffered from palsy. His head and hands shook so violently that he could not, by himself, partake of the sacrament. Each deacon knew that his duty in serving Louis was to hold the bread to his lips so that he might partake and to similarly place the cup of water to his mouth with one hand, while steadying his head with the other, the tray being held by another deacon while doing so. Always Louis would say, “Thank you.”

I grew up with divorced parents. My father was in a different branch than us, and my mother could not attend church because of her work schedule. My sister and I came to church alone. This was difficult, and it felt odd, but we continued to come. If you will hold to your testimony and keep the commandments, your life will be blessed. If you pray and seek to keep the Spirit in your heart, you will be able to overcome the trials in this life. In the end, you will be rewarded.Jess D., 18, Nevada, USA

Life on a cattle ranch is both stressful and faith-building. One time they needed to plant oats to feed the cattle. Kache and the other ranch hands were ready to plant—there was just one problem. “It was really dry and hot and there was no rain for the oats.” Kache says. “My dad asked us to pray for rain. After a few days, we got that rain. The oats were able to grow, and we were able to have food for our cattle.”

When we arrived at Fort Laramie, we were starting to run low on food. Members of the company purchased what additional food they could. Our rations were also cut from 1 pound of flour a day per person to 3/4 pound. Later it was cut to 1/2 pound, and finally to 1/4 pound per person.
On October 17, just before crossing the North Platte River for the last time, we were told to lighten our loads so that we could travel more quickly. Blankets, extra clothing, and utensils were left behind. How I missed the clothing and bedding a few days later!
The North Platte River was freezing cold, deep, and swift. On October 19th, Father helped us across, then helped others. We were all wet and cold and hungry. No sooner were we across, than the first snowstorm hit us. Father worked hard helping set up camp, and he gave away much—too much—of his food to those in greater need. Most of the men worked too hard and ate too little. They couldn’t bear to see the suffering of the women and children.
The night of October 21st was especially bitter cold and stormy. Nobody had enough clothing or blankets to stay warm. Sometime during the night, Father died of exhaustion, starvation, and the cold. Twelve others also died that night. They were all buried in the same grave. The ground was so frozen that digging in it was almost impossible. How hard it was to leave him out there on the frozen prairie. I felt sad and lonely.

You can learn to look at a sibling’s behavior in a different way. Butch loved to tease, and his pet name for his younger sister was “Brutus.” His sister’s earliest memory of this name is a tape recording:

“Hi. My name is Katie Ald—”
“Brutus.”
“Butch. My name is Katie—”
“Brutus!”
“Stop it!”
“I’m calling the dog.”
“My name is—”
“Brutus!”

Katie’s entire child and teenage life was haunted by this name. With the encouragement of her parents, she ignored it as much as she could and when she couldn’t, she pretended it was meant as a compliment, a term of endearment. By the time her brother left on his mission, it really was an affectionate nickname. This is called reframing. Katie learned to look at the name in a different way.

Butch wishes he hadn’t waited until his mission to establish a friendship with Katie. “I missed my whole family at first, but it was ‘Brutus’ that I missed my whole mission. I couldn’t wait to see her.”

Now let me close by personalizing this a little. On January 12, 1992, Jody Jorgensen Nichols, a neighbor of ours and one of the best friends of our daughter, Jani, left the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah, and flew to Helsinki, Finland, with two elders and two other sisters to serve in the Finland Helsinki East Mission. All had been studying Russian and were preparing to preach to the Russian people. At that point there was no mission in Russia, but Gary Browning, president of the Finland Helsinki East Mission, was responsible for the members and missionaries in the former Soviet Union. Our good friends Gerald and Peggy Jorgensen, Jody’s parents, were a little apprehensive about sending Jody off to Russia. In fact, Peggy told me that she even wondered if she would ever see Jody again. Their understanding was that Jody would live in Helsinki but travel back and forth to different spots in Russia to teach the people.

When Jody arrived in Helsinki, she and her group were notified that they would all leave for Saint Petersburg the next day. However, one would continue on alone to Moscow. Little did they know what was going to be announced that weekend. The next morning, as they prepared to leave, Jody was told that she would be the lone missionary continuing on to Moscow. She sat down and wrote a short note to her parents explaining that she was the only missionary in her group of five who would travel on to Moscow. On Thursday, January 16, Jody arrived in Moscow, where she met up with her companion and began to work with a small group in the Church. At that time there was one main branch and three small groups in Moscow, all clustered around metro stops. On Saturday, Jody attended a zone conference where it was announced that two new missions were being created: the Russia Saint Petersburg and Russia Moscow Missions. So now she knew that she would be working in Russia for the remainder of her mission. Only a few days later, on Monday, her letter from Helsinki arrived in Orem, and the reality of the transfer began to set in for Gerald and Peggy. Would Peggy’s premonition come true? Needless to say, Monday was a very difficult day. All they knew was that Jody was leaving her companions behind and traveling alone to Moscow to begin her work.

At the same time, not knowing that Jody had left the MTC, I was preparing for a trip to Moscow. I had been invited to present a paper at a conference being hosted by Moscow State University, and I was having a difficult time getting a visa. In fact, I nearly canceled my trip because I knew that I would miss the plenary session where I was to present my paper. But I had my tickets, and I didn’t want to let down my host. So in the Dulles Airport I met a courier with my visa and then headed off to Moscow about the same time Jody was on the train leaving Helsinki. I knew I would be there on Sunday, so I asked my nonmember friend, Andrei Markov—then the vice dean of the College of Economics at Moscow State University—if he could find an LDS branch for me to attend. On Sunday, only a few days after Jody arrived in Moscow, I had a taxi take me to the building close to the university metro stop where the Church group was meeting. I was early—one of the few times that has happened in my life—so I sat in the cold foyer of the building and waited for the members to arrive. Who was one of the first people to walk through the door? Jody Jorgensen. We were both shocked. I told her to sit down during church and write a letter to her parents. And then it was so fun to listen to Jody bear her testimony in Russian, having only been in the country a few days. She had prepared herself well.

The next day I flew home. That happened to be the day that Gerald and Peggy received Jody’s letter from Helsinki. When I arrived home about 10 p.m. or so, I called Gerald to tell him that I had just come from Moscow, where I had gone to church with Jody, and that I had a letter for them. Needless to say, he came right over. Peggy has since told me that when they got my call that Monday night, she was lying in bed clutching her scriptures, worried to death about Jody. Once she got the letter I brought, she felt a feeling of peace come over her that never left her for the rest of Jody’s mission. She knew that everything would be all right.

Does the Lord care about these things? Of course he does. Was it a coincidence that I decided to go to Moscow, even though I missed part of the conference? Was it a coincidence that Jody and I ended up in the same building at the same time? Of course not. Sometimes, if we step back, we can see the Lord’s hand in his work.

There are times when the feeling of love and closeness is so real that you hardly dare breathe—a feeling of warmth and caring so vivid that it seems like a loving embrace drawing everyone together.
There are times when the first few notes of a special song that you’ve rehearsed early on Saturday mornings now send electric tickles down your spine and fill your eyes with tears as the words speak your innermost thoughts.
There are times when you become so much a part of the group that you feel like you’re seeing only the best, the finest, the most beautiful in each person. It is exhilarating when you meet each other’s glances and exchange knowing smiles because you’re all sharing the same sensation.
Such rare and precious times are the Young Women in Excellence programs to be held on a stake or ward level churchwide to present the seven values as they are incorporated in the lives of Young Women. The seven values—Faith, Divine Nature, Individual Worth, Integrity, Good Works, Knowledge, and Choice and Accountability—are the basis for programs that can include displays, performances, dramatic presentations, and workshops. The programs, whether held in the evening or on a Saturday morning, are a time for joy in each young woman’s accomplishment. It is a time for recognition of achieving goals. It is a chance for each young woman to examine where she is going and what her life means.
Lisa Ward of Long Beach, California, instinctively understands what the Young Women values mean in her life. “The Young Women program is not just a meeting you go to on Wednesday night or something you do on Sunday. It’s about your whole life, everything you do.”
Jill Ensley, also from Long Beach, agreed. “The values help us to teach ourselves.”
“The values help us learn how to set our goals,” said Edie Hess, Long Beach California East Stake, “to show us that there are things you can do on your own initiative.”
Several stakes have already planned and presented their Young Women in Excellence programs. The results were especially gratifying as parents and leaders saw their young women stretch and grow. Each girl had a chance to give some deep and searching thought as to what the values meant and how they affected her life. As Melodie Lamm, a Young Women leader in the Meridian Idaho East Stake, said, “These girls had experience in the values. It went deeper than just making something with your hands. It went much deeper than that.”
The Young Women in Excellence programs were organized in a variety of ways in individual stakes. The colors, representing the seven values, were used in flags, in banners, in ribbons on displays, in streamers on a maypole, and in decorations at luncheon tables. Some stakes held workshops that addressed the dilemmas facing the young women in their area. Some had a combination of displays and talent performances that illustrated values in the lives of each young woman. Others had each ward present one of the values in any way their creativity dictated.
In the Bountiful Utah Central Stake, a symposium introduced the morning’s activities and workshops. Wendy Wiscomb and her mother were assigned to organize the symposium. “My mother and I passed out sheets of paper to the girls in the stake asking them to honestly identify their concerns. Then we took the main problems and wrote them into the script. Some of the dialogue was in the exact words of the girls. For instance, one girl said, ‘I don’t even know what I’m going to wear to school tomorrow let alone what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.’ We talked about these problems. A number of girls told me afterward that it was really wonderful to hear relevant issues presented and later discussed in the workshops.”
Displays were another way that girls were able to illustrate a value. Amberlee Stephenson, a Beehive in the Nephi Utah Stake, used her waterski to represent her efforts at gaining a feeling of individual worth. On a tag attached to her ski, she wrote, “Waterskiing helps me learn that sometimes it takes more than one try to be successful. We can learn from our attempts and failures, and when we succeed it is that much better.”
Tara Cowan, in the Nephi Utah Stake, illustrated her special singing talent with a collection of her favorite music and the story of how she started singing to her mother’s clients as they sat under the dryer or were getting their hair washed in the beauty parlor. Then she performed as part of the talent segment of her stake’s program.
Lihann Jones, of Long Beach California East Stake, used muffins she had baked to talk about integrity. One set of muffins were light and appealing because all the ingredients were used. The others were dismal failures. She wrote, “These muffins reflect a lack of integrity because certain ingredients were left out, making them incomplete, unfinished, and awful.”
Families were certainly involved as young women began planning and preparing for their parts in the programs. Often, working with the values led fathers and daughters or mothers and daughters to have meaningful, enriching conversations. Margaret Miller, stake Young Women president in the Long Beach California East Stake, said that one father told her his daughter and wife sat up late just laughing and enjoying being together as a result of working on the girl’s display.
Jonne Wheadon, stake Young Women president of the Meridian Idaho East Stake, said a woman reported that her husband and daughter had a special experience talking about and researching more information about her great-grandmother.
And families sometimes gave a little sigh of relief when the event was over. One father from the Nephi Utah Stake, obviously pleased by his daughter’s efforts, was overheard at the conclusion of the program saying, “That was great, and now we can have the kitchen table back.”
Participation was excellent, often more than expected. As girls thought about their projects and began work on them, the excitement seemed to spread and the more reluctant ones were drawn in. Vicki Jackson, stake Young Women president of the Nephi Utah Stake, said that one young girl tagged along with friends who were practicing with the chorus to sing “I Walk by Faith.” The girl asked if she could sing with the group. Then as she became more involved, she volunteered to participate in the talent presentations.” The stories of girls who were not participating fully in their wards yet became involved with the projects or displays were the ones that helped leaders see the great value of the program.
But most importantly, the Young Women in Excellence program was a catalyst for growth and introspection. Girls took each value, at first holding it cautiously, a little unsure of just what to do; then with increasing confidence turned it over in their minds as they probed for ways it worked in their lives. It seemed that each girl who participated could say, without hesitation, “I struggled, but I grew.”
And then there was that feeling, that sense of oneness, the all-encompassing embrace that validates the effort and the work.
Sister Wheadon put her arms around some girls after their program as they together treasured the feeling. She told them, “If things start to slide and life seems to get too tough, you call me and we’ll talk about this day and remember how we felt.”
“For my project on Divine Nature, I prepared a special book that included memories of my father. He was killed in an accident when I was three. I talked to people who knew him and came to understand more about him. My family was sealed in the temple, and I am thankful that I know about the eternal plan and that I’ll see my father again.”
Jamie TaylorNephi Utah Stake
“I chose Good Works. Service means you do things for people. We went to the hospital and put on a puppet show for the children. They really liked it, and we felt good because we were helping someone to be happy. They smiled a lot.”
Deborah Del BelloLong Beach California East Stake
“I’m the only LDS person on the swim team. When this program came along, it seemed natural to set a goal in swimming. I frequently set goals in competitive swimming. I decided I wanted to work hard and swim the 100-meter freestyle in 1:06. I had been doing a 1:09. I worked and worked. When we had invitationals, I was in a relay and I did a 1:06:91. This helped my feeling of individual worth.”
Shawna UlmerLong Beach California East Stake
“About a year ago I started bringing my best friend, Tami, out to church, especially Mutual activities. I’ve brought other friends to church, and they were interested in the activities, but Tami was more interested in the gospel. I knew that she would believe. It added to my faith as she gained hers. Pretty soon she started asking me questions, and I couldn’t answer them all. So the missionaries taught her the lessons, and she set a date and was baptized.”
Cami CriddleLong Beach California East Stake
“Cami asked me if I wanted to go to church. At first I thought, no, I didn’t really want to. Then I decided that since I hadn’t been baptized into any church, I ought to start looking around and seeing what I believe in. I went with Cami, and the things I was taught I believed, so I started going to church more often. When I had the missionary lessons, I felt I was ready to be baptized.”
Tami HowellLong Beach California East Stake
“For the value, Choice and Accountability, I made a game called, ‘The Choice Is Right, or Is It?’ I used my sticker collection to add pictures to the board. When you are consciously thinking of right or wrong, it’s much easier to make a right choice. Although it took lots of time to make my game, it was worth it. My whole family got involved in discussing decisions that teenagers have to make every day. And my mother and sister have noticed that I think more carefully about the consequences before I make decisions now.”
Cheri EverettMeridian Idaho East Stake
“I love to write about the things I love. One night I wrote about my horse, Missy. I had been having a hard time keeping her in the pen. The dogs were barking, so I went out to check on Missy, and she was out. It was a beautiful night with lots of stars. I could see her clearly, and she stood quietly while I put the halter on. I started to cry, I was so disappointed. It was like I was seeing how my parents feel when I disobey. I just hurt inside because I don’t like to tie her up. I explained that to her, and I felt she understood me and was sad that she had disobeyed. I forgave her and told her how much I love her. I know that my Father in Heaven loves and cares about me and how I feel. I am grateful to have Missy to help me learn the things I need to learn in life. I am grateful Heavenly Father has given me the family that he has and am grateful for each one of them and all they have done for me.”
Camille KenisonNephi Utah Stake
“Since I am the oldest with all sisters, we have lots of dolls without too many doll clothes. I started designing and making doll clothes for my sisters. Then for this project, I decided to try to make a dress from a pattern. I made a pink dress for my littlest sister, Molly Sue, with a fluffy skirt that she can twirl. It turned out really well and made me feel good about trying. I wanted to know that I could do it to increase my feelings of individual worth.”
Stephanie HowardNephi Utah Stake
“I encouraged my brothers and sisters to participate in a bike-a-thon for cancer research. We also did it to remember our friend Stan Miller. He died last year of leukemia. We rode around Rossmoor Park, and our sponsors donated money for every mile we rode. Among us we earned $250 for the hospital. When we got done, I felt good. I want to do it every year.”
Kacie SeamonsLong Beach California East Stake
“Each week for several weeks I gave a lady with five children in our ward a few hours to herself. Babysitting five kids is not easy. At times I could have pulled my hair out, but I survived and without losing my temper. I helped the children each transfer one of their drawings onto a quilt block, and we made a special quilt for their mother. Doing good works for someone else gave me a warm feeling inside.”
Heather BellMeridian Idaho East Stake
“For my project on Knowledge, I tape-recorded my grandparents telling their stories one evening. I was interested to know things about their lives; what trials and struggles they had and what joys. I learned things I hadn’t known before. It was a neat evening.”
Susan FanninLong Beach California East Stake
“To represent Faith, I drew this picture of my Savior. I looked into his eyes and his kind, compassionate face and gained a better understanding of the tremendous sacrifice he made for us.”
Holly PetersonMeridian Idaho East Stake
“I wanted to put something together out of wood so I could work with my dad. We cut a piece of walnut from a tree at my grandfather’s home. His land was formerly the old Wells Fargo station. My grandfather, as well as my own father, is a great example of the meaning of the word integrity. This plaque will always be a reminder of integrity to me because of where the wood has come from and the talents my father has shared with me.”
Tammy FarmerMeridian Idaho East Stake

While I was serving as a mission president in Bolivia, a wonderful elder came to see me. It was near the end of his mission. He was very depressed.
He spoke to me about the difficult time he had experienced in the Missionary Training Center. While he was there his father had died, and for a brief period the elder had considered returning home. But, encouraged by a loving mother, and spurred on by individual commitment, he continued his training.
He recounted the initial efforts he had made in the mission field to work hard, pray often, follow all the rules—hoping, of course, to be rewarded with hundreds of baptisms. But, unfortunately, the baptisms had not come. Gradually he began to slacken his pace. He felt his prayers were not being heard. The mission rules seemed to be burdensome and restrictive. They were silly things, written by the mission president only to goad and irritate him.
In despair he told me, “I’m nobody! What I do won’t make any difference.” Then, as if searching, he quickly asked, “Will it, President Hammond?” For an instant similar questions passed through my mind. Can he make a difference? Can I? Can anyone? Does it matter what one person does?
Then, in my mind’s eye I saw a myriad of people and events who had made a difference. I reminded him of the work of Copernicus, who revolutionized the science of astronomy; and Mohandas K. Gandhi, who in preaching peace and love, brought freedom to his native India.
There are many men and women who have truly made a difference, I said. I thought for a moment and then continued with the stories of two others.
I placed my hand on the young missionary’s and asked him if he was ready to go back out into the field of labor? I asked if he could make a difference in the lives of the special Bolivian children of our Heavenly Father?
His attitude had changed. With a renewed spirit of dedication, tears slipping down his face, he committed himself once again to the work of the Lord. We knelt in prayer together and I blessed him that he would be able to find the way.
Although he had been weak, I felt an inner confidence in him. I surprised even myself by assigning him to one of the most difficult and remote areas of Bolivia—a small community named Bermejo near the Argentine border. The work had gone badly there for some time, with only a few baptisms to reenforce the handful of Saints who were discouraged and found it hard to keep the faith.
In his weekly reports the missionary told of his diligent efforts to contact the people and preach the gospel to them. He indicated that they were slow to listen, but that he was continuing his faithful stewardship in that part of the Lord’s vineyard.
And then it happened. Overnight a small river that runs near the village, fed by heavy rains in the mountains, rose to a height never before known. Homes were swept away and people were drowned. The only bridge connecting the city to the main road was torn from its footings and washed downstream. There was chaos everywhere.
Two young missionaries were caught in the turmoil. And one, perhaps remembering that “a man can make a difference,” threw himself into the turbulent waters to rescue many who were drowning; he sought those buried beneath fallen buildings; he gave relief to the injured and succor to the hungry.
And a miracle occurred. He became a hero. He was lauded by the newspapers. People mentioned his name with reverence. Those who had previously rejected him and the message that he carried now searched him out. Their doors were opened to receive him. They loved him. They accepted his burning testimony of Jesus Christ and the gospel restored through the prophet Joseph Smith.
In the few months that remained of his mission he brought scores of wonderful people into the Church. Today, a beautiful chapel stands in Bermejo. On the Sabbath day it is full of members who still remember one faithful elder who made a difference.

In my early computer career, while living in Utah with my wife and three young sons, the events of September 11 left me without a job for ten months. After almost a year of fasting, praying, and job searching, I received a phone call. A job was available for me. However, it would require us to move to a place I wasn’t quite ready for. My wife is going to kill me, but well--the job was on Molokai. I had nightmares of that nine-passenger plane again, the slow-paced life, everyone asleep by 8 pm, no movie theaters, no McDonalds, no cable, and no ESPN, not to mention taking a HUGE pay cut. But, the more we prayed about the decision, the answer was VERY clear. Moloka’i was where the Lord needed us to be. It was during our life there that my children developed tender bonds with their grandparents. They experienced the beauties of a simple life, raising animals, hunting, diving, and utilizing their surroundings for daily living.

It was also during this time that I was called to serve as a high councilman for the Kahului stake, which required me to fly to Maui three Sundays a month to fulfill my assignment with the Kahului Second Ward. This was hard for me. I left on the first flight out on Sunday morning and returned on the last flight home. My wife was left to wrestle three rambunctious boys in church and the entire Sunday until I returned home. But I grew so much in this calling. I was rather young, and this was my first true involvement in church leadership and administration, and this served as a great training ground for when I would be called to serve as a Bishop years later, here in La’ie.

For example, her husband departed for a mission to Great Britain in 1839 just 10 days after she had given birth to their daughter Alice. For the 20 months that followed, Mary Ann and their six children struggled. They suffered from illness and survived primarily on corn bread, milk, and a few garden vegetables.3 Mary Ann managed to find a little work to support her family and to care for herself and her ailing children. Yet the Lord helped them through these trials. “That is a great thing,” she wrote to her husband, to “trust in the Lord.”4

Later Charles and his fiancée, Sarah Price, said good-bye to their families and went to Liverpool, a seaport from which most of the Latter-day Saint emigrants embarked. They were married on shipboard after they set sail for Nauvoo. Although the trip across the Atlantic Ocean aboard the Equinox was long, the 572 Saints “arrived in full health and vigor, with not one soul lost, full of praise and thanksgiving to the God of Israel for his mercy in blessing them with a safe journey with no serious difficulty” (Journal of Charles Smith).
The company of Saints remained together on the second part of the trip, from New Orleans up the Mississippi River to Nauvoo. As their boat landed at Nauvoo on April 12, 1843, the Prophet Joseph was standing on the riverbank to welcome them! The next day he delivered an address to the new arrivals that was very comforting to them after their long journey.