Gospel Story Finder

Civil government. This was another discussion group that Chauncey belonged to and provided focus for much of his reading. In part it was something of a debating society, organized along lines similar to the model United Nations of today. He notes at one point that he “gained Montana for my state to defend hereafter.” It is not surprising, since 1895 was the year of the constitutional convention prior to statehood in Utah, that these young people organized themselves as a mock constitutional convention. One of the hot topics of discussion was female suffrage, which Chauncey defended. An indication of how opinion was divided on this subject is found in his diary entry for February 28: “I quit at 7:00 and went to Civil Government where I upheld woman suffrage. The house was in disorder. The vote stood 21 to 21. The president decided in favor of woman suffrage.”

In the morning the two hungry missionaries walked 12 miles in the rain before they came to a house. Wilford knocked on the door, and a man answered. The smell of bacon and eggs floated from the open door.
“We are missionaries traveling without purse or scrip. Could we have something to eat?” Henry asked.
“You Mormons are nothing but trouble,” the man said. “But I’m from Missouri, and we never turn away a stranger—even the likes of you. Sit down and grab a plate.”
Wilford and Henry sat down at the table and filled their plates with bacon and eggs. While they ate, the man swore and said terrible things about Mormons. Wilford and Henry ate until their stomachs were filled. Then they stood up, took their hats, and bade the man good-bye while he was still swearing.
“I trust the Lord will reward him for our breakfast,” Wilford said to Henry as they started off again.

I married young, and while my marriage has always been a healthy and a happy one, it made me face my weaker traits. On top of that, my husband and I decided to have children right away, and my first pregnancy was the most harrowing experience I’d ever had. I faced physical challenges I never imagined. My mood was unstable, and depression became a very real and very new struggle.
I tried to be a good wife, good mother, and good student, but I never quite measured up to my own standards. In time, scolding myself became my first reaction.
I understood that the two great commandments say to “love the Lord thy God” and to “love thy neighbour as thyself” (Matthew 22:37, 39; emphasis added), which implies that we should love ourselves. But I felt unworthy of love.
I thought, “If I sin and love myself anyway, isn’t that giving myself permission to keep doing wrong? After all, we’re supposed to offer up a broken heart and a contrite spirit, so aren’t we supposed to be miserable until we’re better?”
At the time I would have answered “yes,” but the truth is a resounding “no.”
Elder S. Gifford Nielsen of the Seventy taught: “Our Heavenly Father wants us to love ourselves … to see ourselves as He sees us: we are His cherished children. When this truth sinks deep into our hearts, our love for God grows.”1 And when my love for God grows, I become better. When I love God, I recognize my Savior’s gift that makes it possible for me to be forgiven of my sins and to overcome my shortcomings. When I love God, it’s easier to love myself.
Berating others doesn’t help them progress; it only discourages them. Along with correction, they also need encouragement. So why was I any different? How could I offer myself the same compassion?
When I confided in my husband about this struggle, I felt pathetic. I was more comfortable continuing my habit of negative self-talk, so I had to be brave and vulnerable to admit my weaknesses out loud. But articulating my problem to another person helped me find more clarity and solutions.
I’ve educated myself with uplifting resources to understand my thought patterns and how to improve. I’ve also learned that regular exercise makes a huge difference. In the past I exercised because I hated my body and wanted to change it. Now I exercise because I love to feel good and have more energy.
My changes were more effective because I acknowledged the Savior was supporting me rather than condemning me. Before, my scripture study, prayer, and temple attendance had been full of shame and had limited my spiritual growth. Now my prayers are more genuine and honest because I’m not hiding myself from the Lord.
I also had to decide what mattered and who to listen to. Our world, our neighborhoods, and our social media platforms have so many expectations on how to act, look, parent, talk, and so on. It is simply impossible to achieve universal approval.
But you know who else faced disapproval? Jesus Christ. He was kind, compassionate, and perfect, but He didn’t win any popularity contests. In fact, choosing to show His love for certain people often cost Him the respect of others. I have had to accept that I cannot please everyone and should instead strive to please God.
The goal with self-love is never to justify omission, rationalize sin, or slip into complacency. I recognize that certain negative feelings can help me, such as godly sorrow—but I shouldn’t wallow in it, because that’s not progression.
Elder Neil L. Andersen of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said:
“Guilt has an important role as it awakens us to changes we need to make, but there are limits to how far guilt will help us.
“Guilt is like a battery in a gasoline-powered car. It can light up the car, start the engine, and power the headlights, but it will not provide the fuel for the long journey ahead. The battery, by itself, is not sufficient. And neither is guilt.”2 I must be intentional not to slip into negative thinking patterns and should instead focus on loving Christ and myself.
It’s been a process to lay this burden at my Savior’s feet, but it’s working. The small changes I have made, many of them inside my own head, are making a huge difference because of the Savior’s grace.
I’m grateful that the heart of the gospel revolves around love. The love of God, love of others, and love for myself.

“Mary, what do you see?” Mary’s stepmother spoke softly from her sickbed.
“The fighting seems to be getting closer,” said Mary, looking out the window. The American Civil War was being fought just a few miles away. The sound of gunshots had filled the air since morning. Mary turned to her stepmother. “I’m so sorry. I don’t think we can leave the house to get the doctor.”
“Come closer.” Mary sat next to the bed and took her stepmother’s hand. “I know your father is still not well,” Mary’s stepmother said quietly, “but you need to take the family to Zion—your brother, your sister, and the twins. Don’t give your father any peace until he goes to the Rocky Mountains! Promise me!”
Mary knew how much her family wanted to go to Salt Lake City. After they heard the gospel and were baptized, they had left England to join the Saints in Zion. But would it even be possible? She glanced at her father, who sat silently in his chair. Three years ago, Father had suffered a terrible stroke that had paralyzed his left side.
Mary took a deep breath. “I promise,” she whispered.
Soon Mary’s stepmother closed her eyes for the last time.
One morning soon after, Mary decided it was time to tell her father about her promise. “I know I’m just 14,” she said, “but I must take our family to Zion.” She heard the twins waking. “I need to go get breakfast started,” she said. “But just think about it, please.”
A few days later, Father called Mary’s name. “It’s all arranged,” he said. His speech was still slurred from the stroke. “I’ve sold our land and the coal mine so we can buy a wagon, some oxen, cows, and a few supplies. A wagon company is leaving soon for the West. They’re not Latter-day Saints, but we can travel with them as far as Iowa. When we get there, we can join a party of Saints going to the Salt Lake Valley.”
Mary threw her arms around him. “Thank you, Father.” Soon they would go to Zion!
The days passed quickly as Mary helped get the family ready for their travels. “Everything is going to be all right,” she told herself. “Soon we’ll be in Zion.”
But then Father fell ill. From the way his mouth drooped on one side, Mary feared it was another stroke.
“He’s too sick to travel,” she told the leader of the wagon company. “We just need a few days for him to recover.”
“We can’t wait,” the man said briskly. Seeing Mary’s face, he softened his tone. “You can stay here until he’s ready to travel, and then you can catch up with us.” With no other choice, Mary agreed.
A week later, Mary got her family ready to travel again. “The twins and Sarah can ride on the oxen,” she told Jackson, her nine-year-old brother. “Father can ride in the wagon, and you can help me drive the oxen.”
“I’m scared,” Sarah said in a small voice. She was only six, and she looked tiny on the ox’s broad back. The four-year-old twins looked at Mary with wide eyes.
“We’ll just make good time and catch up with our group!” Mary said with forced cheerfulness.
On and on the Wanlass family traveled, for miles and then for days. Finally, even Mary had to admit the truth.
The wagon party had not waited for them. Mary and her family would have to travel to Zion alone.
“Whoa, there!” Mary pulled back on the reins, and the oxen slowed. “Everyone all right?” She looked at her three youngest siblings, who rode on the oxen’s backs. They nodded.
The Platte River lay before them, wide and muddy. “What now?” her younger brother, Jackson, asked. He was only nine, but he was helping Mary drive the oxen. Father lay in the back of the wagon, still sick from his stroke.
“We don’t need to cross the river,” said Mary. “But we can follow it.” There was no road to Zion, but the river should guide them as they headed west. “Giddyap!”
Mary didn’t know that Mormon pioneers traveled on the other side of the Platte River and went a different way. By not crossing the river, they were entering Indian Territory. They would not see another wagon train for the rest of the journey.
They traveled on. Weeks later, Mary saw a cloud of dust approaching. “Steady,” she whispered to the oxen and herself. “Steady.”
The dust cleared to show a small group of Indians riding on horses. One of the riders moved toward the back of the wagon, where Father was lying.
The rider’s eyes were kind. “He is sick?” he asked, pointing to Father.
“Yes,” Mary whispered. The man called out something in his own language, and the men rode off as quickly as they had come.
Mary looked at the sun in the sky. “We’ll stop here,” she told Jackson. She lifted Sarah and the twins down.
“Mary, come look!” Jackson said. The man with the kind eyes was riding toward them, something heavy in his hands.
“Wild duck,” he said. “And rabbit. For you.” Mary could only stare, speechless, as he dropped the game into her arms. With another nod, he rode off into the twilight.
“Food!” Mary exclaimed. “Meat!” The man’s gift was truly a miracle.
More miracles happened on their journey. A buffalo herd came near them but then parted around the wagon, going on either side of it. A dust storm carried one of the twins into a river, but Mary was able to save her.
But the journey was still difficult. Every day the wagon looked more worn, and the oxen looked more tired. The ground was steep and rocky. The mountains were hard to cross. But Mary and her family kept plodding forward.
They were just coming down from a tall summit when Mary saw a man driving toward them in a wagon.
“Maybe he can tell us the way to Lehi, Utah!” she said to Jackson. They had an uncle who lived there.
“You’re in Echo Canyon, not far from the Salt Lake Valley,” the man said when she asked where they were. “But where is the rest of your party?”
The whole story came out, and the man listened with amazement. “You’ve traveled over 1,000 miles (1,609 km) all by yourselves?” He shook his head with admiration. “You are one brave girl. Let me tell you the way to Lehi. You’re nearly there.”
“Nearly there,” Mary whispered to herself as the man drew a rough map in the dirt. Nearly to Zion. “I think we might make it, after all.”
Mary and her family made it to Lehi, Utah. She later married and had a large family of her own. Her example of faith and courage has blessed many people.

May I share with you an example of Brother Clayton M. Christensen, a member of the Church who is a professor at Harvard University.
When he was 16 years old, Brother Christensen decided that he would not play sports on Sunday. Years later, when he attended Oxford University in England, he played center on the basketball team. That year they had an undefeated season and went to the championship tournament.
They won their games fairly easily in the tournament, making it to the finals. Then Brother Christensen looked at the schedule and saw that the final game was on a Sunday. He went to his coach with his dilemma. His coach told Brother Christensen he expected him to play in the game.
Brother Christensen went to his hotel room. He knelt down. He asked his Heavenly Father if it would be all right, just this once, if he played that game on Sunday. He said that before he had finished praying, he received the answer: “Clayton, what are you even asking me for? You know the answer.”
He went to his coach, telling him how sorry he was that he wouldn’t be playing in the final game. Then he went to his Sunday meetings.
Brother Christensen learned that it is easier to keep the commandments 100 percent of the time than it is 98 percent of the time.

From our youth, many of us may remember the story of a very young boy who was abducted from his parents and his home and taken to a village situated far away. Under these conditions, the small boy grew to young manhood without a knowledge of his actual parents or earthly home.
But where was home to be found? Where were his mother and father to be discovered? Oh, if only he could remember even their names, his task would be less hopeless. Desperately he sought to recall even a glimpse of his childhood.
Like a flash of inspiration, he remembered the sound of a bell which from the tower atop the village church pealed its welcome each Sabbath morning. From village to village the young man wandered, ever listening for that familiar bell to chime. Some bells were similar, others far different from the sound he remembered.
At length the weary young man stood one Sunday morning before a church of a typical town. He listened carefully as the bell began to peal. The sound was familiar. It was unlike any other he had heard, save that bell which pealed in the memory of his childhood days. Yes, it was the same bell. Its ring was true. His eyes filled with tears. His heart rejoiced in gladness. His soul overflowed with gratitude. The young man dropped to his knees, looked upward beyond the bell tower—even toward heaven—and in a prayer of gratitude whispered, “Thanks be to God. I’m home.”

After a Young Women lesson about patriarchal blessings, I had this feeling that I needed to receive mine to know the guidance that Heavenly Father has in store for me. I prayed a lot and studied for months.

Then, one day in Sunday School, my teacher told me, “If you’re thinking about your patriarchal blessing, it’s probably time for you to get it.” That inspired me to go for it, and I’m so grateful I did. Because of my patriarchal blessing, I know that Heavenly Father knows who I am.

Acadia L., age 16, Baden-Württemberg, Germany

Joseph’s mother stayed in the Nauvoo area rather than going west, for her remaining family was there, including three daughters. “Here in this city lay my dead,” she explained in an impromptu 1845 talk, “my husband and my children.”12 But her interest remained lively in the work of the western Saints. Enoch Tripp visited her in 1855, the year before her death. They had been close friends when he taught school in Nauvoo. Finding her very feeble. Enoch stepped to her bedside and identified himself: “She arose in her bed and, placing her arms around my neck, kissed me, exclaiming, ‘I can now die in peace, since I have beheld your face from the vallies of the mountains.’” After inquiring after her Utah friends, she remarked that she was on the verge of meeting “with her beloved ones beyond the veil.” As he left, Enoch received a “farewell blessing from this great mother in Israel.”13

My widowed mother supported her three young children on a schoolteacher’s salary that was meager. When I became conscious that we went without some desirable things … , I asked my mother why she paid so much of her salary as tithing. I have never forgotten her explanation: “Dallin, there might be some people who can get along without paying tithing, but we can’t. The Lord has chosen to take your father and leave me to raise you children. I cannot do that without the blessings of the Lord, and I obtain those blessings by paying an honest tithing. When I pay my tithing, I have the Lord’s promise that he will bless us, and we must have those blessings if we are to get along.”

Illustrations by Arthur Lin
“Let’s get more sticks!” Callie said to Marco.
Marco looked at the sky. “I have to go home. It’s almost sunset.”
“But we haven’t finished our fort yet!” said Callie.
“Sorry!” Marco called out as he jogged toward the backyard gate. “I have to be home before the Sabbath!”
Callie sighed. There were great things about being Marco’s friend, and there were hard things. Well, mostly just one hard thing. The hard thing was that they didn’t have very much time to play together. Even though they were in the same grade at school, they weren’t in the same class. They didn’t have the same recess. Plus, they both spent the Sabbath with their families. In Marco’s church, the Sabbath was Saturday. It started at sunset on Friday night. For Callie, the Sabbath was Sunday.
And the good things? There were lots of them. One was that Callie never had to worry that Marco would swear, try to get her to do bad things, or watch things that weren’t good. He and his family went to a different church, but they believed a lot of the same things Callie did. Like they believed in keeping the Sabbath day holy, even though they had it on a different day.
Callie set down her armful of sticks and went inside.
“Did Marco go home?” Mom asked.
“Yeah,” Callie said, slumping into a kitchen chair. “We hardly ever get to play.”
“Maybe you two can get together Friday. It’s a school holiday,” said Mom.
“OK,” Callie said, cheering up. She would get everything ready so when Marco came over, they could start working on the fort right away.
During school later that week, Callie’s teacher made an announcement. The whole third grade was going to watch a movie together.
“Yes!” Callie said. She put her lunch box into her backpack and went into the common area between the classrooms.
Everyone found a place to sit on the floor, and the teachers turned off the lights. Callie got excited as the movie began. It was about some boys building a fort in the woods, just like she was building a fort with Marco! If we ever finish it, she thought. She shook her head and focused back on the screen.
But as the movie went on, Callie noticed that some of the words in it weren’t very nice. She started to feel more and more uncomfortable. She didn’t know what to do.
Just then, she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Marco! He had crawled all the way through the crowd of students to talk to her.
“Callie, I don’t think we should be watching this,” he whispered. “I think we should go ask our teachers if we can read instead.”
Callie breathed a sigh of relief. It felt good to know someone else felt like she did. “Yeah. I don’t like this movie either.”
She and Marco stood up and tiptoed around their classmates until they reached their teachers. Marco went to his teacher, and Callie went to hers. She asked if she could read a book instead of watching the movie, and her teacher said yes.
As Callie went into her classroom to read, she saw Marco doing the same thing. He gave her a thumbs-up and a smile. Callie smiled back. Having a true friend was even better than having a finished fort.

What can you do with five wooden cubes and five minutes?
That’s easy. Create a walking, talking Mormonad.
Instead of putting on road shows, the teens of the Ogden Utah Burch Creek Stake, took on the challenge of doing something different. They had a Mormonad night. The Young Women and Young Men leaders found that with such a large stake (11 wards and 600 young people), it would be impossible to get through regular road shows comfortably in one evening. So another kind of creativity took over.
“We presented the wards with the idea of putting on five-minute skits or commercials about gospel subjects. We got the idea from the Mormonads in the New Era” said Nila Dayton, stake cultural arts specialist. “We gave each ward five wooden cubes that they had to use in some way.” The cubes were big enough to sit or stand on and became the basis for the simple, portable scenery.
There were a few other rules as well. The wards were given just three weeks to prepare. This avoided the lengthy and exhausting preparations that sometimes go with road shows. The curtain would not be closed between skits, so all scenery and props had to be carried on and off with the actors. And each ward was encouraged to include a song and a dance.
How did it go? In most of the wards, the young people really took over. Andrew Noyes of the 74th Ward said, “About ten of us showed up to the planning meeting. We kept thinking of fun commercials and how we could change them. Then we started writing lyrics to go with a song. We were writing new verses right up to the night we had to put it on.”
“We liked being so involved,” said Kathryn Norton of the 77th Ward. “We liked having a say instead of the leaders doing so much of it.”
Nolan Godfrey of the 60th Ward said, “It was a lot easier and more relaxed.” His friend Andy Mair added, “There wasn’t as much stress because we were just doing it for fun.”
These teens know how much a clever jingle can stick in your mind. On this night, a few familiar tunes had new and improved lyrics. The Mormonad night was packed to the back of the cultural hall. The skits were fast and fun, and most important of all, they each made a good gospel point.

When I was a young man I wondered why the Lord needed to have the Prophet Joseph Smith translate the Book of Mormon to begin the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I knew that God the Father and Jesus Christ had spoken with him. I knew that Peter, James, and John had restored the Melchizedek Priesthood, that prophets had brought the keys, and that Joseph had been taught by apostles and prophets from earlier dispensations. With all of that, I wondered what the place of the coming forth of the Book of Mormon in all of that was.
Then I began missionary work. One of my early companions told me the story of his conversion. I remember his words, which were something like this: “The missionaries had taught me. I had read the Book of Mormon. The missionaries challenged me to set a date for baptism, but I could not decide. Finally, I knew I had to make a choice. So, I knelt down and prayed to know if the Book of Mormon was true. I told God that I was desperate, that I knew this was the most important decision I had ever made, and that I needed His help. The Spirit testified to me that the Book of Mormon was true, that Joseph Smith was a prophet, that the Church was true, and so I was baptized.”
It took a missionary experience for me to understand the place of the Book of Mormon in the Restoration and in our work. I came to understand why the Prophet Joseph called missionaries and sent them out to teach with the Book of Mormon. I came to know that what President Benson said about the Book of Mormon was true. He said this: “We must not forget that the Lord Himself provided the Book of Mormon as His chief witness. The Book of Mormon is still our most powerful missionary tool. Let us use it” (The Teachings of Ezra Taft Benson [1988], 204).

I want to begin with a brief test and a self-evaluation. The following episode was presented in a general conference address in 1966 by President N. Eldon Tanner (1898–1982), a counselor in the First Presidency of the Church.
““A young man came to me not long ago and said, ‘I made an agreement with a man that requires me to make certain payments each year. I am in debt, and I can’t make those payments, for if I do, it is going to cause me to lose my home. What shall I do?’
“I looked at him and said, ‘Keep your agreement.’
“‘Even if it costs me my home?’
“I said, ‘I am not talking about your home. I am talking about your agreement; and I think your wife would rather have a husband who would keep his word, meet his obligations, keep his pledges or his covenants, and have to rent a home than to have a home with a husband who will not keep his covenants and his pledge.’”1

A recent convert from Canberra, Australia, says the following: “I was born into a religious family where religion was taken seriously. I had a strict Christian upbringing. However, I drifted away from the church at about twenty years of age when I left home to attend teachers college.
“From that time on I felt an emptiness of purpose in some way, and each year or so would find me searching out and studying a new spiritual creed. I studied yoga and practiced meditation, read about Hinduism, Buddhism, Zen Buddhism, and most of the Protestant religions and Judaism. Somehow none of these held out anything I was seeking. Then I stopped searching, and when the elders came calling, I had mixed feelings about letting them in. I did not want yet another fruitless search, but I thought it only reasonable to hear the message and then decide. For a few lessons I was not convinced that there was anything different in the lessons from what I had already heard elsewhere. Then slowly, through the patience of the elders, I began to get the feeling that all they were saying was really true. They urged me to pray frequently, which I did; but still I was not sure. They explained how the Holy Ghost could come into one’s heart, and one could perhaps feel a warm glow inside. This was rather hard for me to imagine, but I believed them.
“One night the elders challenged me to take baptism the very next Saturday. I was surprised and felt I wasn’t ready, but I did agree to be baptized a week later, giving myself more time for questions and prayer. Then Elder Hurd asked Elder Nelson if he would bear his testimony to me. He did it so fervently that about halfway through I felt a warm spot in my heart which seemed to be coming from Elder Nelson; and as he spoke, it increased in size and intensity like a small cloud inside of me.
“When he had finished, both elders assured me that they had felt the presence of the Holy Ghost, but I didn’t tell them of my experience until a few days later. I felt too overcome to speak of it. Before they left they asked me to read Third Nephi, chapters 11 to 26, in the Book of Mormon before going to bed that night. As soon as they went out the door, I read avidly, and as I did, the warm glow returned to me and I needed no more convincing.”

“Wow!” Ana said. “Look at all the stars.” Everyone in Ana’s family looked up from the campfire. It seemed like there were millions of stars in the dark sky.
“Just think,” Mom said, “each of those stars is one of Heavenly Father’s creations.”
“Let’s each name one of our favorite things that Heavenly Father has created for us,” Dad suggested.
“I know,” Daniel said quickly. “I like those huge waves we saw at the ocean last year.”
Ana didn’t know what to choose. She thought about the warm sun, the bright moon, and sweet-smelling flowers. Then she remembered how much she loved all kinds of soft, furry animals. “Animals!” she said.
Ana started to shiver, so Dad wrapped a blanket around her. “After Heavenly Father created all these beautiful things for His children, He saw that they were good,” Dad said.
Ana had a warm, happy feeling inside. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and looked back up at the stars. “Thank you, Heavenly Father,” she whispered.

The best solution to shortness: Don’t fret about being short. I quit worrying about my lack of height before I was ever graduated from high school. In my Latin class, three of the four boys registered were named Paul. One was so tall he had a perpetual cloud at his hairline, one was just a shade shorter than that, and then there was me. One day our wise old teacher sized us up as we left the room after class.
“When I see two of you three Pauls, it’s hard to believe,” she said, “that paulus means ‘little’ in Latin.” Then she dropped one of those little bombs that made her a memorable teacher. “As a matter of fact,” she went on, “a name doesn’t mean much in any language until or unless you make something of it.” She looked right at me as she spoke, and for a few minutes I thought I might bump my head on the ceiling.

One of my first experiences in being restrained by the Spirit came soon after I was called as a counselor in a stake presidency in Chicago. In one of our first stake presidency meetings our stake president made a proposal that our new stake center be built in a particular location. I immediately saw four or five good reasons why that was the wrong location. When asked for my counsel, I opposed the proposal, giving each of those reasons. The stake president wisely proposed that each of us consider the matter prayerfully for a week and discuss it further in our next meeting. Almost perfunctorily I prayed about the subject and immediately received a strong impression that I was wrong, that I was standing in the way of the Lord’s will, and that I should remove myself from opposition to it. Needless to say, I was restrained and promptly gave my approval to the proposed construction. Incidentally, the wisdom of constructing the stake center at that location was soon evident, even to me. My reasons to the contrary turned out to be short-sighted, and I was soon grateful to have been restrained from relying on them.

When Farid was 14 years old, he thought he knew what he wanted in life, and religion wasn’t a part of it. He told his family he didn’t want to attend any church.
He had a full life in the beautiful city of San Pedro Sula, Honduras. His favorite activities were music, dancing, soccer, volleyball, swimming, and hiking. He spent most of his time reading philosophy books and hanging out with his friends. Farid was working toward a career in medicine, and he just wanted to enjoy life.
Farid said he was a selfish 14-year-old—he only thought about himself. “I didn’t care about my family or their needs,” he says. “I would fight with my cousin a lot.”
Then one Sunday, Farid’s life took an unexpected turn. While he was bored at home, his friend Isaías texted him and asked if he wanted to go to his church with him. That was the first time Farid visited The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Then Isaías invited him to attend seminary, and he loved it so much.
“I felt something in my soul that told me that I was in the right place, with the right people, and the right church,” says Farid.
Soon after he attended seminary for the first time, he joined the Church. And soon after that, he started noticing some unexpected changes in himself.
Farid says, “I went from an immature 14-year-old who only wanted to be rebellious, to a young man with eternal perspectives. My family noticed, too.”
Farid stopped fighting with his cousin. Instead, he now tries to find ways to serve him such as making him lunch, cleaning his room, or asking him if he needs help. But in spite of the positive changes in Farid’s life, some of his family members were upset when he first joined the Church.
“I never let their comments change my opinion about the Church,” says Farid. “I am very grateful that my faith never stopped. Instead, it grew more and more. My family now accepts my beliefs because they’ve seen my example and how I’ve changed.”
There have been other big changes in Farid’s family as well. His mom is now taking lessons from the missionaries, and she wants to be baptized!
“Heavenly Father promises us that when we put in the effort, we will receive blessings,” says Farid. “But He has His timing. It has taken almost four years for one member of my family to want to get baptized. It hasn’t been easy for me. I’ve been tempted to think that the Church is false. But when I’ve asked Heavenly Father about the truthfulness of the Church, I’ve received my testimony, which keeps me strong.”

My wife and I, and two of my colleagues and their wives, recently participated in a Jewish Shabbat (Sabbath) at the invitation of a dear friend, Robert Abrams and his wife, Diane, in their New York home. It commenced at the beginning of the Jewish Sabbath on a Friday evening. The focus was honoring God as the Creator. It began by blessing the family and singing a Sabbath hymn. We joined in the ceremonial washing of hands, the blessing of the bread, the prayers, the kosher meal, the recitation of scripture, and singing Sabbath songs in a celebratory mood. We listened to the Hebrew words, following along with English translations. The most poignant scriptures read from the Old Testament, which are also dear to us, were from Isaiah, declaring the Sabbath a delight, and from Ezekiel, that the Sabbath “shall be a sign between me and you, that ye may know that I am the Lord your God.”

The overwhelming impression from this wonderful evening was of family love, devotion, and accountability to God. As I thought about this event, I reflected on the extreme persecution that the Jews have experienced over centuries. Clearly, honoring the Sabbath has been “a perpetual covenant,” preserving and blessing the Jewish people in fulfillment of scripture. It has also contributed to the extraordinary family life and happiness that are evident in the lives of many Jewish people.

My father never made much money, but my parents were honest and hard working, and they taught these values to their children. My father worked at a copper mine. He didn’t earn enough money to send his sons and daughters on missions or to college, so my parents bought 1,000 chickens for us to raise so that we could sell the eggs. They also contracted to deliver a large number of newspapers each evening to our neighbors.
Most of the money from the eggs and delivering newspapers went into the bank to help pay for our education and our missions. Five of the children used the money to serve missions and all seven graduated from college. The lessons of value that my parents taught me on honesty, hard work, the Word of Wisdom, the law of chastity, and many other things continue to bless my life.