Gospel Story Finder

Sometimes people rejected the prophets because they were jealous of them and their power.

In the Book of Third Nephi when Nephi was ministering with great power, “they were angry with him, even because he had greater power than they” (3 Nephi 7:18). The people even saw Nephi raise his brother from the dead; “and the people saw it, and did witness of it, and were angry with him because of his power” (3 Nephi 7:20).

When Thomas Marsh came back to the Church after his disaffection, he explained what happened:
“I must have lost the Spirit of the Lord out of my heart. …
“I became jealous of the Prophet … and overlooked everything that was right, and spent all my time in looking for the evil; … I thought I saw a beam in Brother Joseph’s eye, but it was nothing but a mote, and my own eye was filled with the beam; … I got mad and I wanted everybody else to be mad. I talked with Brother Brigham Young and Brother Heber C. Kimball, and I wanted them to be mad like myself; and I saw they were not mad, and I got madder still because they were not. Brother Brigham Young, with a cautious look, said, ‘Are you the leader of the Church, Brother Thomas?’ I answered ‘No.’ ‘Well then,’ said he, ‘why do you not let that alone?’”2

When Mom read Grandma’s letter, my twin brother, Bryce, and I looked at each other with surprise. “How can Grandma take care of a garden?” I asked, reaching for my milk.
“Grandma has always had a garden, Peg,” Mom answered, smiling and pushing the plate of cookies toward us.
“But, before, Grandpa was there to do the hard work,” Bryce pointed out. “Since he died, Grandma’s been alone. She shouldn’t be out working in the garden.” “But Grandma loves having a garden,” Mom said. “I don’t think anybody could talk her out of it.”
“Then we ought to help her,” I said. “Bryce and I could help. We help Dad in the garden all the time.”
“She lives a long way from us—almost 700 miles. We can’t drive there every time she needs help.”
“So what are we going to do?” Bryce asked. “We can’t just let her do it alone.”
Mom thought for a long time. “You can remember her in your prayers. That’s probably all we can do right now. We’ll visit her this summer. You can help then.”
“But that will be after most of the hard work.”
Bryce and I couldn’t stop worrying about Grandma. The summer before, we had spent three weeks with her and Grandpa and had worked with him in the garden. We knew how hard it was to work in the sun hoeing weeds, keeping the ditches clean, and watering every week. When we said our prayers, we always remembered Grandma and her garden, but we still felt there was something else we ought to do.
The next Saturday, Mom sent us to the store for some milk. On our way home, we passed Mrs. Rogers working in her yard. She was on her hands and knees, digging in her flower bed. She greeted us with her usual big smile. “Out running errands?”
We nodded. “Isn’t it too hot for you to be out working, Mrs. Rogers?” Bryce asked.
“It is warm, but someone has to do the work. Since Mr. Rogers had his operation, he hasn’t been able to do much. In a month or so, he should be well enough to help some. But right now there’s work to do, and I’m the only one who can do it.”
Bryce and I started home. “She’s all alone doing that work,” Bryce muttered. “Maybe we should help her out.”
A few minutes later we were back at Mrs. Rogers’ place. “We came to help,” I announced. “What can we do?”
Mrs. Rogers was surprised. “I haven’t ever had young people stop by to help out. What would you like to do?”
“Anything you need. You tell us what to do, and we’ll get it done.”
“Usually, working in a garden or a yard is hard, boring work, but that Saturday Bryce and I had the best time. The sun was hot, the sweat ran down our faces, our backs ached from pulling weeds, and Bryce and I both got blisters. But we had fun working with Mrs. Rogers.
It was late afternoon when we finally quit. She tried to pay us. “No, thank you,” I told her. “We didn’t do this for money. Taking money would ruin everything. We just wanted to help you out.”
Before she let us go, though, she fixed a huge pitcher of ice-cold lemonade and put a pile of soft, chewy brownies on a plate for us. We rested and feasted on the goodies.
For the next three weeks, Bryce and I stopped by Mrs. Rogers’ place often. Sometimes the only thing Mrs. Rogers had for us to do was carry the trash can out to the curb, but we still checked on her. We kept her flower bed and garden weeded, mowed the lawn, and helped trim the shrubs along the front of the house.
“I don’t know what we would have done without your help this summer,” Mr. Rogers said one afternoon as we were getting ready to leave. He had hobbled out into the front yard and sat in a lawn chair. “After my operation, I told Mrs. Rogers that we ought to just forget the garden and yard this year.” He shook his head and smiled. “She wouldn’t hear of it.”
“Usually we’re not crazy about working in the yard and stuff,” Bryce admitted, shrugging, “but this reminds us of working for our grandma.”
That evening as we were finishing dinner, Morn announced, “A letter came from Grandma today.”
“What did she say?” I asked, excited.
“How’s her garden?” Bryce wanted to know.
Mom smiled. “I think your prayers have been answered.”
“How?” I questioned.
“A family down the street from her knew that she needed help, so they decided to make that a family project. At least once a week they go there and lend her a hand.”
Bryce looked across the table at me and grinned. “Maybe we prayed that family over to Grandma’s garden.”
“You could be right,” Mom said, nodding, “and I think that maybe someone someplace else has been praying for their Grandpa and Grandma Rogers. Maybe they prayed the two of you over to Mrs. Rogers’ garden.”
“Is that how Heavenly Father works?” I asked.
Mom smiled. “When he has work to do, he often sends people like the two of you to do it. Doesn’t it make you feel good to know that you could be an answer to a prayer?”
Bryce and I thought about that. “Well, Peg,” Bryce said with a grin, “we’d better get to bed early tonight so that maybe we can help someone else tomorrow.”

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” (Ensign, Nov. 1993, 66).

The ?rst meeting of the Beith Branch of the Church (in north Ayrshire), was held in Beith’s community centre on 8 May 1983. The membership was small with only 16 attending.
??About four years later, on 26 July 1987, a conference was held in the Usher Hall, Edinburgh. Its theme was taken from Doctrine and Covenants 65:5: “That his kingdom may go forth upon the earth, that the inhabitants thereof may receive it, and be prepared for days to come, in the which the Son of Man shall come.”
It is a theme that the Beith Branch may well have adopted as it embarked on the way to getting its chapel. Building work for the Beith Chapel was due to begin in January 1988, but after rising to the challenge and meeting the criteria for a building, everything came to a halt. Church policy for rural facilities had changed, and budgets were tight. It was a demoralising blow for Beith Saints.
??Then, in November 1996, Stake President Robert W Watson of Paisley Stake, received a letter giving formal noti?cation that building work would begin two weeks before Christmas. Brother George Dracocardos (of Area physical facilities) phoned President Weston and advised him that plans for the new building were available. They were displayed in the local library along with a model of the proposed design, to be built by Scott Gibson. Local interest from the people of the town picked up, and suddenly the Saints in Beith realised that they were about to get the Christmas gift of their lives.
Plans were made for a groundbreaking service to be held at the site on 29 December 1996, with President Watson presiding. The dreams of those few members who started off the Branch in 1983 were about to be a reality. The efforts and prayers of members from those early days in the spring of 1983 and through the following years had been rewarded.
For fourteen years, meetings had taken place in members’ homes or an often-cold community centre. Each week, hymnbooks and the lectern had been carried, and each week, wives walked home with their children while their husbands drove around the valley dropping off other members. It all seemed hard at the time, but in hindsight it was a little sacri?ce to pay for the beautiful building that was now about to be delivered.
?On 29 December 1996 it was a beautiful clear winter morning; the sun was shining in the sky above, and the high church bells pealed, as around 50 members gathered on the building site. The site had been cleared for the groundbreaking, and a golden spade had been provided. Branch President Cairns said how the sacrament would be administered here to the children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren of those present, and they would be a blessed people because of what was taking place. As President Watson dug the golden spade into the cold earth, he hailed it a new era for the Church in the Beith Branch. After the groundbreaking ceremony, President Watson thanked the Lord in his dedication prayer for the wonderful opportunity that the Saints in Beith had been given, receiving a chapel in which to worship—the community would be blessed.
???Then, over 30 years later, on 27 May 2018, a realignment of the boundaries took place and the Beith branch was discontinued. The building was put into mothballs. Yet, it may well serve again.? In years to come, all will be a distant memory for some old member sitting in the back row of the building, who will be able to say, “I was there”. Those who worked so very hard to make Beith what it is, members and missionaries alike, will not be forgotten.

Atami, Japan, is an attractive city located on the east coast of Honshu, about 100 kilometers south of Tokyo. It is a famous vacation resort with comfortable hot springs, splendid sunsets, and high cliffs overlooking the sea.
The main attraction of the cliffs of Atami is the beautiful view, but they also attract people for a different reason: from their edge, many have plunged to their death.
On a May evening in 1987, I was driving toward Atami. I couldn’t stop crying, and I didn’t want to see the sunset. As I drove, the memories of the past few years ached inside me.
I had worked hard while I was serving in the Japan Sapporo Mission, on the northernmost island of Japan, with its cold, snowy winters. I felt that the Lord accepted my service, but I did not anticipate what awaited me when I returned home. I didn’t understand why, after all the hard work, there didn’t seem to be any rewards.
Specifically, I felt unfulfilled in my search for an eternal companion. I had found few opportunities to date, while others seemed to be finding eternal happiness easily. Any relationship that I thought might be lasting ended. Though my family was worried about my depressed state, I received strength from my Heavenly Father, which helped me through this difficult time.
Then questions began to arise. Why did I have to suffer so much? Did Heavenly Father still love me? As a returned missionary, I could not deny that the Lord lived or that his Church was true, but I began to question his love for me. Then, one night, thinking that I would never have the opportunity to get married, I lost all hope, and Satan took control. I decided to take my own life rather than face any more heart-breaking experiences. I wrote a farewell note to my parents and began driving to Atami.
Then, two miracles happened. First, as I got closer to the coastline, prepared to drive my car off the cliffs into the ocean, I noticed that a wall had been built to prevent cars from going over the edge. Second, the Lord cleared my mind long enough so that I could stop the car and think about my actions. I realized I could never take my life.
Sobered and much calmer, I drove home to find my bishop at home with my parents. They are not members of the Church, but they knew they could trust Bishop Kashikura. He gave me a blessing, and it seemed the nightmare was finally over.
But a week later, I again had second thoughts about my purpose in life. I didn’t know what to do. On that same day, I received a letter.
The letter was mailed from the United States, which was no unusual because I have friends there. But this letter was different—there was no return name or address. All I knew was that it was mailed from Flushing, New York, the day after I had driven to Atami to try to end my life. However, I did not know anyone from Flushing, New York.
When I opened the letter I found, “To You!” written at the top. Enclosed was a copy of the song “Going Home,” written in both Japanese and English. As I read the words, tears filled my eyes. The words told me that when I found myself alone, my memories could keep me strong. With those memories, I could never forget there is a place where I still belong, a place I can always turn to for comfort: “Home.”
I cried and cried and finally felt assured that Heavenly Father does watch over me. He loves me! Until I had this experience, I thought heaven was very far away, but the song helped me understand that God is very near. When we are faithful, we are already in our heavenly home here on earth.
That was the first and last time I ever heard from Flushing, New York. Perhaps I will never know who sent me those words. The experience reminded me of something President Spencer W. Kimball said, “God does notice us, and he watches over us. But it is usually through another person that he meets our needs” (Ensign, October 1985, page 3). I am eternally grateful for the person who had ears to hear and acted upon the prompting from the still, small voice from heaven.
I will never forget this experience, and, no matter how great the trials I shall have, I will never forget the place where I want to be—home, my heavenly home.

One day I was having lunch in the Church Administration Building cafeteria with three of my colleagues in the Seventy. While we were eating, President Russell M. Nelson came to our table with his bowl of soup and said, “May I join you?”
“Of course, President!” we all said. Who wouldn’t want to have lunch with the prophet?
While we ate, President Nelson shared a few experiences he has had in the many countries he has visited and talked about people who have inspired him. He was so kind, wise, and generous.
As we finished lunch, I turned to President Nelson and said, “President, I don’t know if I will sit at the same table with you anytime soon. But this evening, I am going to see my wife and children and tell them that I ate lunch with the prophet. I know they will ask me, ‘What did he tell you to tell us?’ President, what would you want me to tell my wife and children?”
President Nelson looked at me for a moment. I was so eager to hear what he had to say! “I have only three words for you,” he said. “Tell your family that I said, ‘Keep the commandments.’”
We have all heard this counsel from President Nelson before, but in that moment, I felt a personal, strong witness that President Nelson is truly the prophet. I thanked him, and later that day I told my family what had happened. Our children later made “Keep the Commandments” stickers and placed them on our refrigerator and mirrors to remind us of what President Nelson said.

Ricardo’s testimony was strengthened that day, but before he was 11, he didn’t even know what a testimony was. Then one day a friend invited him to church. He enjoyed it so much he kept coming back.
Unfortunately, his mother didn’t like him going. And she didn’t want him joining the Church when he asked to be baptized. “But the missionaries talked to my mother, and she liked them, so she finally gave permission,” he says.

Ever since then Ricardo has been a devoted and energetic disciple of Christ. He currently holds the priesthood office of priest in the Barueri Ward, Barueri Brazil Stake. Ricardo is usually the first one at church, even though he must walk two and a half miles (4 km) to get there. He says he wants to come to every meeting, even those not on Sunday.
Although he is the only Church member in his family, he still does all he can to build the Lord’s kingdom. That’s what you want to do when you have a testimony, he says. He is even learning to play the piano so he can accompany the singing in priesthood meeting.
“What is important is eternity,” he says. “Now that I’m a member of the Church, I see everything in an eternal light.”
Does heaven’s light shine for anyone who seeks the Lord? Even for those who consider themselves the least in the kingdom? Indeed it does. Ask Ricardo. He knows.

She met Russell Ball, president of Staines Stake, who introduced LDS Charities and the Burnley Ward elders quorum president, William Haddock to her. William and LDS Charities helped BEST receive nearly £12,000 of funding, which enabled them to deliver a further 5,000 packs across Burnley around Christmas.
William said, “In one of the meetings I had with Sam at the centre she pointed out that she was struggling to get hold of hygiene bags to house the goods that the money would buy. I suggested that we could make the bags, thereby allowing our members to be involved and serve instead of just providing a financial donation. I approached Sister Carol Cryer (our ward Relief Society president and asked what she thought). Carol worked with Chester England Stake sisters and produced over 5,000 bags. It was amazing, but exactly what we have come to expect from our amazing sisters. Whilst LDS charities provided the money, the real miracle was how our sisters (and brothers) pulled together to make the bags.”
Continued William, “Sister Cryer and her daughters made a video showing how to make the bags. She sourced the materials, which along with the video, were distributed throughout the stake. President Russell Ball initially met Samantha at a meeting, and it went from there. He got in touch with President Michael Gratton (Chorley Stake president) who in turn got in touch with me as elders quorum president in Burnley Ward. President Gratton was very keen and supportive from the outset, and Chorley Stake funded a further £1,200 to purchase the materials to make the bags.”
“When you break the pack down into products, 80,000 sanitary towels were delivered with the funds that the Church provided for us. That’s incredible.” Samantha explained.
From September 2020 to the end of January 2021 the project delivered 12,400 packs to females of Burnley.
Samantha said, “Not only did LDS Charities provide us with the products we needed to complete our Christmas response, but they also provided links to an organisation and people within it, with whom we can build a future relationship. William Haddock collaborated with Carol Cryer from Burnley who organised a far-and-wide bag-making mission. In total, between William and Carol and the congregation of Latter-day Saints, they hand-made 5,079 drawstring cotton bags. They were so beautiful and so much easier to handle when packing. Each bag was made with care, knowing that they would be helping make someone’s life a little bit better; as a community you cannot put a value on that.”
She continued, “We will be forever grateful to Russell, William and Carol who helped us every step of the way. If Latter-day Saints ever need help from us, that connection is available to return the help. We just wanted to say thank you.”

I first discovered the garage when I was seven years old and spending the day at my grandparents’ house. I quickly settled into my routine of playing with toys in their living room. Just as I jumped my toy car off of the armrest of the sofa, my grandpa walked through the den wearing a set of blue overalls covered in stains and his favorite “Ford Racing” hat. Opening the sliding door and stepping over the threshold, he looked back to find me staring at him wide-eyed. With a wink, he motioned for me to follow him.
As we walked across the backyard and came to the door of the gray garage, Grandpa reached into his pocket and retrieved his keys. Slowly and methodically, he fingered through the keys with his big, calloused hands that were the result of a lifetime of hard work. Finally, he found the old brass key he was looking for, inserted it into the lock, and opened the door.
After climbing over boxes and tiptoeing around engine parts and transmission pieces, we stood in the middle of the garage. Grandpa showed me around, pointing to various parts and explaining what they did in a way that my seven-year-old mind could understand. He pointed out the cars he was fixing and what they needed to run well again. One was a 1940s-era roadster that looked just like one of my toy cars. The other was a 1965 Mustang that was lying in pieces all over the floor. It was amazing how much my grandpa knew and how he could figure out exactly what was wrong with something so complex. His stories of growing up in a family of 12 and buying old cars, repainting them, and selling them to make money made me laugh and the stories of car crashes and real fiery explosions astounded me.
Over the years I’ve put in my share of elbow grease in Grandpa’s garage. I would change oil in the countless cars that rolled into the shop, driven by people asking for my grandpa to work on their vehicles. Grandpa would always smile and treat his loyal customers to at least a half-hour’s worth of conversation. I helped clean the brake drums and apply body filler to the Mustang, which soon became my favorite car in the garage. We spent many hours working in the crowded space. I treasured the time I got to spend with my grandpa working in the garage.
When I was nine, I moved away and no longer got to spend time in the garage with Grandpa. A few years later the distance multiplied when my grandparents were called to serve a mission in Hawaii. However, it was truly a blessing. My grandpa finally got the chance to serve the Lord as a missionary. Growing up in such a large family meant that money was limited, and a full-time mission wasn’t possible for him when he was young. While my grandpa had the desire to serve, a full-time mission involved a great deal of sacrifice. I had always wanted to serve a mission, and seeing my grandparents serve and the blessings that came from their service bolstered my desire. When my grandpa came back, the garage was waiting for him. The sounds of power tools and metal once again reverberated through the walls.
The years have raced by, and I am older now. But working with Grandpa is still special to me. Whenever I come back to visit, it seems like there is always a new project or something that needs to be done. The distance makes me treasure our time together so much more.
I recently visited during the summer, and Grandpa gave me that familiar wink as he motioned for me to follow him. Expecting a new job, I followed willingly. As he lifted the door to the garage, what I saw took my breath away. There stood a beautifully restored 1965 Mustang. The body filler had been covered with a beautiful copper metallic paint, and the brake drums were now masked by flawless new rims. Big white racing stripes flowed up the front of the car from the chrome front bumper to the chrome rear bumper, and the shiny running horse pranced across the front of the grill. He put the key into the ignition, and the huge V-8 engine roared to life. He looked at me and smiled, then he asked if I wanted to go for a ride. I quickly said yes, and with that, we backed the car out of the garage and took off down the street.
As I make preparations to serve a mission, I look forward to following in my grandpa’s footsteps once again as I serve the Lord. My grandpa has not only taught me many things about cars, but he has also taught me many things about life. From all the hours we spent in the garage, I’ve learned how to be patient and take pride in my work. Because of his incredible people skills, I’ve learned how to approach and talk to people. And above all, he helped me discover who I truly am. Just like the Mustang, I have been piecing myself together over the last 18 years, and now, with help from Grandpa, I am finally ready for the open road.

Working with horses also taught me to be patient and to never give up. Progress comes a little at a time. Once I had a colt named Planchet. Someone said, “That horse is weak. He will never be worth anything.” But someone else told me that if I would be patient and exercise my colt’s muscles, he would someday be a good horse. I fed Planchet and took care of him and loved him. For one whole year, I just walked him to strengthen his muscles.
I worked and worked with him. And, sure enough, this weak colt became one of the best horses in Brazil. He won the Brazilian championship in a three-day-long competition.

One of the many stake presidents that have aligned their efforts to gathering Israel is Chukwu Nnanna of the Abakaliki Nigeria Stake. In his words: “It all started at Port Harcourt when Elder D. Todd Christofferson visited with Elder [S. Mark] Palmer of the Presidency of Seventy. I had a deep conversation with Elder Palmer who thought me a Ghanaian as I wore a Ghanaian tie gifted to me by one of the young single adults who served in Ghana. He asked how many sons and daughters I had out there. I knew he wanted to know how many young single adults were currently serving full time missions. I thought for a while in my heart, and then told Elder Palmer that I was just three months in my calling as a stake president.
“He then said, ‘Send as many missionaries as you can.’
“I held on to those words and prayed that many will serve a full-time mission while I serve as a stake president. I asked the Lord to help me fulfill His words coming forth from His servant of the Seventy”.
President Nnanna continued: “As I reflected on what to do, knowing the Lord always provides a way to accomplish His purposes; my attention was drawn to the Gathering Place as the way”. The stake presidency standardized Abakaliki Gathering Place activities. The stake operates two gathering places to overcome challenge of distance as there are units about 70 kilometers away from the stake centre. Great are the miracles that follow the rising generation as the Gathering Place becomes a spiritual and temporal muster point for young single adults and their friends who are offered a wide range of activities such as missionary preparation, institute, skills acquisition, BYU Pathway, socials, family History work, self-reliance class, games and many more.
Evidently, the Lord Has blessed the stake presidency’s efforts in strengthening the Abakaliki Nigeria Stake Gathering Place. Today, in addition to the eight serving missionaries, a brother will be leaving for full time service to Nigeria Port Harcourt Mission in November 2022. A sister will go to the Kenya Nairobi Mission in January 2023. Literally, the prayer of a committed stake president has been answered and Elder Palmer’s charge to send many young single adults on missions continues to be fulfilled.
Consistent with priesthood direction and the principle of the Gathering Place, we have seen strong leadership development among Abakaliki youth as they are given opportunities to serve in the stake presidency, high council, bishoprics and stake family history with their exceptional contributions. At stake and unit levels, young single adults are championing family history and temple efforts. Temple worship has become a culture for these young people who contribute significantly in assisting our brothers and sisters on the other side of the veil.

President Thomas S. Monson is a great example of this principle. In January of 2005, he was presiding over a priesthood leadership conference in Puerto Rico when he demonstrated how the Savior and His servants render service through personal ministry. At the conclusion of that wonderful meeting, President Monson began to greet all the priesthood leaders in attendance. Suddenly, he noticed that one of them was watching everything from afar, off by himself.

President Monson walked away from the group, toward that brother, and spoke to him. With emotion, José R. Zayas told him it was a miracle that he had approached him and an answer to the prayers that he and his wife, Yolanda, had offered before the meeting. He told President Monson that his daughter was in very poor health and that he had with him a letter from his wife that she wanted delivered to President Monson. Brother Zayas had told his wife that it would be impossible since President Monson would be too busy. President Monson listened to the story and asked for the letter, which he read silently. Then he put it in his suit pocket and told Brother Zayas that he would take care of their request.

In this way, that family was touched by our Lord, Jesus Christ, through His servant. I believe the words of the Savior in the parable of the good Samaritan apply to us: “Go, and do thou likewise.”

My name is Christopher. My feet jump, jump, jump, and run, run, run, and hop, hop hop, so much that Mom calls me Chris-hopper.
On Sunday, Mom said, “Chris-hopper, it’s time to be Christopher. Tell your feet to slow down.
I told them, but they forgot.
On Monday, Mom and I went to the zoo. We saw giraffes, lions, elephants, and monkeys. Best of all, I liked to watch the kangaroos hop. I call them roo-hoppers. Then we saw a giant turtle moving oh … so … slow. I call it a no-hopper. It gave me an idea.
On the next Sunday, I put on my best clothes and my best shoes. Then I taped a little picture of a turtle on the toe of each shoe. “No-hoppers!” I exclaimed and ran to show Mom. She gave me the thumbs-up.
At church, I looked at the turtles on my shoes and said to my feet, “No-hoppers at church.” Now my feet remember to walk in the meetinghouse.
But when I go outside, I’m Chris-hopper again.

For example, Víctor and Norma Soardo and their children, Lilian, age 12, and Marcos, age 15, were baptized in 1997. The Soardos are grateful for both the warm welcome and the lessons they received in how to be good Latter-day Saints. “From the time I came to know the Church, my life has had surprise after surprise,” says Brother Soardo. “Good surprises!” he adds, referring to his amazement at being called to serve in the branch presidency.

Shortly after the family’s baptism, the car Víctor used to make a living was demolished in an accident. It left the family without means of support, and soon Víctor became desperate. He had little money with which to buy a car.

One Monday evening it was his turn to plan family home evening. He gathered his wife and children around him and said: “Instead of our regular lesson, let’s pray tonight. Let’s put this problem before the Lord.” They took turns in petitioning the Lord.

“A few days later I heard about someone with a car for sale,” Víctor recalls. “As I drove down a street looking for the address, I passed an old truck parked by the side of the road, and the idea came to me to stop and ask the owner if he would be interested in selling it.” The owner was interested, and the two bargained unsuccessfully for several minutes before the owner finally asked Víctor how much money he had. The owner agreed to sell his truck to the Soardos for half his original price.

“With this vehicle, I support my family. I pay my tithing. The truck is so much better for my needs,” says a grateful Víctor. “I never thought I could own a truck. The Lord knew better what I needed.” Learning the specifics of how to live as a Latter-day Saint helped the Soardos face this and other challenges.

Partly as a result of continued attention after baptism, both Salta and Jujuy, as well as other areas in Argentina, have enjoyed significant growth in the last few years. This growth has produced a number of new leaders like Víctor Soardo, now serving as president of the Guemes Branch, Salta West stake. “About 80 percent of our leadership here in the north comes from first-generation members,” explains Pedro López, an orthodontist who joined the Church at age 25 and was called as Jujuy stake president at the age of 29. Helping converts adjust to their new Latter-day Saint lifestyle has significantly strengthened the wards and stakes in Salta and Jujuy.

Some 50 years ago I received an invitation to meet with President J. Reuben Clark Jr. (1871–1961), a counselor in the First Presidency of the Church, a statesman of towering stature, and a scholar of international renown. My profession then was in the field of printing and publishing. President Clark made me welcome in his office and then produced from his old rolltop desk a large sheaf of handwritten notes, many of them made when he was a law student long years before. He proceeded to outline for me his goal of producing a harmony of the Gospels. This goal was achieved with his monumental work Our Lord of the Gospels.
In my library is a personally inscribed, leather-bound copy of this classic treatment of the life of Jesus of Nazareth. As I have perused its pages, I have paused at the section entitled “The Miracles of Jesus.” I remember as though it were yesterday President Clark asking me to read to him several of these accounts while he sat back in his large leather chair and listened. That was a day in my life never to be forgotten.
President Clark asked me to read aloud the account found in Luke concerning the man filled with leprosy. I proceeded to read:
“And it came to pass, when he was in a certain city, behold a man full of leprosy: who seeing Jesus fell on his face, and besought him, saying, Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean.
“And he put forth his hand, and touched him, saying, I will: be thou clean. And immediately the leprosy departed from him” (Luke 5:12–13).
He asked that I continue reading from Luke concerning the man afflicted with palsy and the enterprising manner in which he was presented for the attention of the Lord:
“And, behold, men brought in a bed a man which was taken with a palsy: and they sought means to bring him in, and to lay him before him.
“And when they could not find by what way they might bring him in because of the multitude, they went upon the housetop, and let him down through the tiling with his couch into the midst before Jesus.
“And when he saw their faith, he said unto him, Man, thy sins are forgiven thee” (Luke 5:18–20).
There followed in the scriptural account snide comments from the Pharisees concerning who had the right to forgive sins. Jesus silenced their bickering by saying:
“What reason ye in your hearts?
“Whether [it] is easier, to say, Thy sins be forgiven thee; or to say, Rise up and walk?
“But that ye may know that the Son of man hath power upon earth to forgive sins, (he said unto the sick of the palsy,) I say unto thee, Arise, and take up thy couch, and go into thine house.
“And immediately he rose up before them, and took up that whereon he lay, and departed to his own house, glorifying God” (Luke 5:22–25).
When I had read these scriptural stories aloud, President Clark removed from his pocket a handkerchief and wiped the tears from his eyes. He commented, “As we grow older, tears come more frequently.” After a few words of good-bye, I departed from his office, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his tears.
As I reflect on this experience with President Clark, my heart fills with gratitude to the Lord for His divine intervention to relieve the suffering, heal the sick, and raise the dead. I grieve, however, for the many, similarly afflicted, who knew not how to find the Master, to learn of His teachings, and to become the beneficiaries of His power. I remember that President Clark himself suffered heartache and pain in the tragic death at Pearl Harbor of his son-in-law Mervyn S. Bennion, captain of the battleship West Virginia. That day there had been no ram in the thicket, no steel to stop the shrapnel, no miracle to heal the wounds of war. But faith never wavered, and answered prayers provided the courage to carry on.

Some years ago I accompanied President Hugh B. Brown on a tour of the Samoan Mission. The members and missionaries in American Samoa had advised us that a severe drought had imperiled their water supply to the point that our chapels and our school would of necessity be closed if rain did not soon fall. They asked us to unite our faith with theirs.
Signs of the drought were everywhere as we left the airport at Pago Pago and journeyed to the school at Mapasaga. The sun was shining brightly; not a cloud appeared in the azure blue sky. The members rejoiced as the meeting began. He who offered the opening prayer thanked our Heavenly Father for our safe arrival, knowing that we would somehow bring the desired rainfall. As President Brown rose to speak, the sun was soon shaded by gathering clouds. Then we heard the clap of thunder and saw the flash of lightning. The heavens opened. The rains fell. The drought ended.
Later at the airport, as we prepared for the short flight to Western Samoa, the pilot of the small plane said to the ground crew, “This is the most unusual weather pattern I have ever seen. Not a cloud is in the sky except over the Mormon school at Mapasaga. I don’t understand it!”
President Brown said to me, “Here’s your opportunity. Go help him understand.” I did so.

Imagine that you go to a high school where all the kids are one or two feet taller than you. Everything would be out of proportion; everything would seem a little too big for you. How would you do in such a setting? How would you fit in?
Just ask Jake Cram, age 17, who at 3 feet 11 inches (119 cm) tall is a bit on the short side. But what he lacks in height he makes up for with an unusually large testimony and positive outlook on life.
Jake was born with dextrocardia, a rare condition causing his heart to be on the right side of his chest and his growth to be stunted. He also has other heart problems and has had to undergo three open-heart surgeries.
“In middle school, everyone was starting to get taller while I was still the size of a first grader,” says Jake, a member of the Riverton Utah South Stake.
Being shorter than others his age hasn’t been easy for Jake. “I’ve had trouble fitting in. Talking and hanging out like other kids is hard,” Jake says. “Plus, I can’t play sports at the level of everyone else.”
As others have outgrown him, “Jake has become a little less social,” explains his mom, Kim. “He was upset about not being able to grow, especially when it came to playing sports. Jake is so talented and easily picks up skills, but he hasn’t been able to use them.”
So when the high school football coach asked Jake to be the water boy for the team, Jake jumped at the chance. “I’ve always liked football. There was never any doubt that I would say yes. I was pretty excited,” says Jake.
Jake is happy to be part of the team, and his positive influence also lifts the spirits of those around him.
Riley Davis plays center on the football team and is one of Jake’s longtime friends. He says the players “were all sophomores coming into the school and didn’t have too many friends. But when Jake joined the team, everybody wanted to be his friend, and then we all started being friends together.”
Another player on the team, Sheen Beard, found Jake to be a tremendous help to him. Injured before the season began, Sheen was unable to play on the team and became a water boy alongside Jake. Jake helped him not only with water and equipment but also by easing the ache of being unable to play. Sheen says, “It turned out well; we worked as a team. He made it fun and had a really good attitude the whole time.”
Having a really good attitude is key for Jake. “It makes a difference if you are positive instead of negative. I always try to be positive,” Jake explains. “Even with everything I’ve had to go through and all of my circumstances, I am still a happy kid because of my attitude.”
And Jake has been through a lot. Along with being shorter than average and having open-heart surgeries, Jake has had to make some major decisions about his life. “I had to decide on whether to have a heart transplant or not,” he says. “I felt like I was doing pretty good most of the time, and I have chosen not to have it done.”
When doctors presented the various options to Jake and his parents, one of which was a heart transplant, Jake’s positive outlook helped him make the decision that he didn’t need a transplant right now. This realization might not have come to him if he were seeing his life negatively. “It feels like I made the right decision,” Jake says.
Through his trials Jake has also developed a strong testimony of the gospel and the power of priesthood blessings. “I’ve had a lot of blessings, and if it weren’t for the priesthood, I wouldn’t be here,” Jake says.
“Usually before surgeries or when I get really sick, my dad gives me one,” Jake explains about priesthood blessings. “One particular blessing I had was given last year before going into the hospital. My dad gave me a blessing, and I know that I felt a lot better afterward.”
Jake also has a strong testimony of Joseph Smith and the Restoration of the gospel. “The gospel has helped me to stay positive and to try and make the best of what I have. To go through my life without worrying a lot is my goal.”
So far Jake is succeeding.
“He is always a good friend,” Riley says with a smile. “He isn’t one to hold a grudge and is always in a good mood. If you ever need a friend, there is Jake.”
“Jake has never allowed his problems to affect his life too much,” his mother says. “Of course, he couldn’t do it alone. Joining the football team has made it a lot easier for him and for us, as parents.”
Jake and his parents are especially grateful to Coach Mike Miller for giving Jake such a tremendous opportunity. “This new opportunity gave Jake something to look forward to at a time when he really needed it,” his mom says.
“Jake also receives help from his good friend Riley,” she says. “He has always been the one to go out of his way to do things with him.”
While Jake has a good time on the football field or learning in school, he feels most comfortable at home. This might be because he doesn’t feel quite as short there. “We are all pretty short,” Jake jokes.
Over the years, Jake has developed a strong relationship with his family. He often goes golfing with his dad and thinks his mom is pretty cool. Jake also has a fun bond with his siblings. He loves and cares for each of them. He was even able to baptize his younger brother, Aaron. “It was a great experience,” Jake says. “If he had been much bigger, though, I don’t know if I would have been able to.”
The love and care is mutual from his family. His mother says, “We are so grateful for him. He relies on the Spirit, and he is able to recognize all the blessings in his life.”
Jake plans to continue living a positive lifestyle. “I hope I never have to go through with a heart transplant,” he says, “but if I do I’ll accept it and move on.”
In the meantime, Jake hopes to carry on with his life: going to school, working, spending time with his brother and sisters, golfing with his dad, getting together with his friends, and going through the challenges of being a teenager. “Someday I hope to go on some kind of mission, whether it be full time or service,” Jake says with a grin. “Either way I’ll be positive about it.”

When my younger siblings are annoying me, I’ve learned to ask them kindly to stop and then I walk away for a few minutes. Then I come back with one of their favorite toys and play with them. Sometimes the most tempting way to handle things is by threat and force. Whenever I want to do this, I silently sing the lyrics to “If the Savior Stood Beside Me” (New Era, Aug. 2007, 8–10). That helps me keep calm and remember to love them. Another good song to sing is “Love One Another” (Hymns, no. 308).
Bria W., 12, Texas, USA

I remember a particular period of my life when I was under unusual stress. There were troubles with my employment, and at the same time my wife was diagnosed with a life-threatening illness. This was one of those times when it felt like the adversary had mounted a frontal assault against me and my family. On days when the stresses and anxieties of our tumultuous life were about to get the best of us, my wife and I found a way to relieve them.
We drove to a place just a few miles from our home to get away for a few moments of relief from our troubles, talk, and give emotional comfort to each other. Our place was Walden Pond. It was a beautiful little pond surrounded by forests of trees. When my wife was feeling strong enough, we’d go for a walk around the pond. Other days, when she did not feel up to the exertion of walking, we’d just sit in the car and talk. Walden Pond was our special place to pause, reflect, and heal. Perhaps it was partly due to its history—its connection to the efforts of Henry David Thoreau to separate himself from worldliness for a period of years—that Walden Pond offered us so much hope for simplicity and provided such a renewing escape from our overly complex lives.

When Elder Don Ray Clarke was president of the Bolivia Santa Cruz Mission, he transferred to mission headquarters an elder who made it clear he would have preferred to finish his mission in another area. Soon after, the elder met a woman looking for a daughter she hadn’t seen in 10 years. When she showed him a photo, this missionary recognized her daughter from a previous area. He played a key part in reuniting a mother and her child.
From this experience and others, “I’ve come to know that God cares deeply about people,” Elder Clarke says. He welcomes surprise transfers and new callings that allow him to help others. “I hope I can minister,” he says of his new calling, “and not just administer.”