Gospel Story Finder

Mary Nash, another student from the past, who married classmate Clive North after his mission, comments, “I have rich memories of rising early to catch the 7:25 A.M. train from Birmingham to Leicester to be present for the 8:30 A.M. devotional at Wakerley Road Chapel one Saturday each month. There were a handful of us from all over the stake, but our teacher, John M. Madsen (Church Educational System Regional Coordinator), made those classes so much fun. I still recall his saying, ‘Welcome to cemetery,’ as tired, bleary-eyed youngsters sat yawning through his opening remarks. I remember the struggle I had at first with homework and daily scripture study, but through practice and Heavenly Father’s help, I coped with both and succeeded.”

In the early 1980s, my family lived in West Germany, and we were members of the Kaiserslautern Germany Servicemen Stake. At the time, our local leaders were emphasizing missionary work. We were told that within our circle of friends, the Lord had placed some of His choice spirit children who were seeking the gospel of Jesus Christ.
My wife, Jenny, and I believed that to be true. Our leaders encouraged each of us to identify nonmember friends we thought would be interested in hearing the gospel. We were to make a list of about 10 people and then fast and pray about our list of friends and decide whom we were to approach first. We decided on contacting two men who were co-workers in my office. I spoke first to a young single man named Chris, but he showed little interest at the time. Next, we decided I would approach Bruce Hamby, a good and kind man with a young family.
However, several days went by and I found myself nervous about speaking to him about the gospel. Finally, one day Jenny called me at the office and asked, “Have you spoken to Bruce yet?” I said, “No, but I will soon.” She then asked if Bruce was in the office that day, and I said he was. At that point she said, “Scott, put down the phone. I will wait while you talk to him!”
I put down the phone and nervously went over to Bruce and asked, “Bruce, did you know that I’m a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?” He said yes; and I said, “Would you be interested in learning more about the Church?” He answered, “Yes, I would.”
Over the next few weeks, Bruce, his wife, Ella, and their daughter, Tanya, came to our home for dinner and met with the missionaries. They were taught the lessons, attended church meetings with us, accepted the gospel, and were baptized. It was a gloriously wonderful and happy day. Bruce was thankful we had introduced his family to the gospel. Even Chris, the young man in our office, attended the baptism and was impressed. Later on, Bruce and Ella approached Chris about the gospel. With their fellowshipping, Chris was taught by the missionaries and joined the Church too.

Several years ago a friend of mine had a young daughter die in a tragic accident. Hopes and dreams were shattered. My friend felt unbearable sorrow. He began to question what he had been taught and what he had taught as a missionary. The mother of my friend wrote me a letter and asked if I would give him a blessing. As I laid my hands upon his head, I felt to tell him something that I had not thought about in exactly the same way before. The impression that came to me was: Faith is not only a feeling; it is a decision. He would need to choose faith.
My friend did not know everything, but he knew enough. He chose the road of faith and obedience. He got on his knees. His spiritual balance returned.
Some years after the blessing to my friend, I received a letter from his son who was serving a mission. It was full of conviction and testimony. As I read his beautiful letter, I saw how a father’s choice of faith in a very difficult time had deeply blessed the next generation.

In the Japanese translation of the hymn “Called to Serve” (Hymns, no. 249), the English words onward and forward are translated as susume. That word has significant meaning for me because of something that happened a few years ago when I was a stake president in Fukuoka, Japan.
The President of the Church, Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008), was visiting, and I was asked to accompany him. During one meeting, 300 full-time missionaries gathered to listen to the prophet. The Holy Spirit filled the chapel, and many of us shed tears of joy. We sang “Called to Serve” in Japanese, repeating over and over again susume, susume. President Hinckley asked the mission president, seated next to him, “What does susumemean?”
“It means ‘go forward,’” the mission president replied.
The meeting was wonderful. President Hinckley encouraged and motivated the missionaries. Afterward, he waved to them in farewell and left the building. As he got into my car to go back to the hotel, he said one word to me, in Japanese: “Susume!”
That word became a motto for me: “Go forward! Be positive! Face the future with faith!” It is the same message given to the youth of the Church in the concluding section of For the Strength of Youth. After reviewing the blessings that come from obedience to the Lord’s standards, in a section titled “Go Forward with Faith,” it says: “As you do these things, the Lord will make much more out of your life than you can by yourself. He will increase your opportunities, expand your vision, and strengthen you. He will give you the help you need to meet your trials and challenges. You will gain a stronger testimony and find true joy as you come to know your Father in Heaven and His Son, Jesus Christ, and feel Their love for you” ([2011], 43).

While he served in the military, Elder Paul’s testimony was strengthened through a more intense study of the Book of Mormon and prayer.
“After I received my own testimony, I put a maxim in my life to always put the Lord first,” Elder Paul says. “I know that when I put the Lord first, the rest will fall into place.”
Elder Paul also says that this increased testimony helped him focus on the things that were important to him in life. He made a commitment to marry a young woman who was a member of the Church, raise his children in the gospel, and focus on the right things.
Elder Paul proved firm in those commitments. He married Helga Klappert on April 2, 1964, in the Bern Switzerland Temple, and they raised their three children in the gospel. His focus to do what is right continues.

When Goethe wrote his Faust, I believe he was inspired to utter some truths about the method of attack by the enemy of our souls. You recall that the man Faust, an old man, was anxious to be made a youth again. He prayed for such a transformation. But the thing he sought for was unlawful, and the Lord had no answer for him. But he persisted in his prayers, and when we persist, not willing to say “Father, thy will, not mine, be done,” it is quite possible that the devil may answer us, as he did Faust. And so the devil said: “I will do this thing for you. I will make you a youth, and when you are a youth you will want a maiden.” And a vision of the beautiful Marguerite was shown. “But if I do this for you I want you to sign a contract that when you are done with this body your spirit belongs to me.”

It is not bodies, it is immortal spirits that the devil wants. And he tries to capture them through the body, for the body can enslave the spirit, but the spirit can keep the body a servant and be its master.

So the contract is entered into. Then as Faust is made a young man he remembers the promise of the virgin, the maiden, and the two go in search of her. They find her as she enters the church. Suddenly Faust rushes forward to seize her, but the devil holds him back and says: “Not so fast, not that way.” Here is a truth. The devil cannot capture any man or woman that way. He cannot suddenly sweep them off their feet and bind them as his slaves against their wills. The power is given to every man and woman that lives to speak as Christ did: “Get thee hence, Satan;” and he will leave you as quickly as he left the Master. He cannot capture a single soul unless we are willing to go. He is limited. He must win men and women.

So with Marguerite. He must win her. They study her and find her weakness. She is a chaste, virtuous, wonderful girl, yet she has a weakness. It is vanity. So they play upon that weak link. Jewels are placed in the garden, and with them the mirror. She discovers these things. Vanity prompts her to put the jewels on and suggests she look in the mirror and see how beautiful she is. At the psychological moment the tempter appears and offers them as a gift from her would-be lover. She is prompted to keep them.

The lovers spend the afternoon together, and the mother’s voice is heard calling Marguerite to come in from the garden, but she is loath to leave her new-found lover. Again at the psychological moment the tempter, the devil, appears, placing a pill in the hand of Faust with the assurance that if this is placed in the mother’s evening drink the mother will soon be asleep and the lovers will be undisturbed. As I have listened to the sad stories of more than one girl who has stolen away from her mother’s influence and come to sorrow and distress, I wonder why the warning is not sufficient to give every girl the assurance that the safest place in the world for her is as close to her mother as she can get.

The mother takes the potion and goes to sleep. The lovers spend the night together. Early morning brings the brother Valentino upon the scene, and he finds his mother dead—for it is the sleep of death—and a stranger in the house with his sister Marguerite. A quarrel follows, and a duel is fought in which Valentino, the brother, is slain. Now Marguerite comes to an awakening sense of her full situation and the consequences of her own act. She has slain her mother, brought the death of her brother, and—worse than her own death—she has lost her virtue. She is next seen weeping and tearing her hair, and the devil comes laughing upon the scene. He has captured another soul. Strongly fortified as she was, she had one weakness, and through that the enemy entered her citadel and she fell.

Just before April conference in 1986, our missionary son David wrote home: “President Benson has been in Ohio. He’s pushing the Book of Mormon hard and wants us to use it even more in our missionary work. Our Regional Representative told us he’s going to ask the Church members to read the Book of Mormon daily. You’d better get ahead and start reading now! I’m doing great. I’ve never felt better in my life.”
How those words touched me! It had been 15 years ago that the Book of Mormon became an integral part of David’s life. I had read it to him as he lay in bed, at life’s edge.
“What are you reading, Mommy?” David asked in the faintest whisper of a sound. His delicate face closely matched the color of the snowy pillowcase. Deep red drops of blood, descending from a bottle suspended above, provided a vivid contrast as they dropped through a tube into his motionless white arm.
“The Book of Mormon,” I replied. It helped me through the endless hours of watching my son fight a seemingly insurmountable battle. It was supposed to be minor surgery to correct a small health problem, but the whole procedure had become a nightmare. Face to face with the fragile quality of mortality, I groped for an anchor with eternity.
“Read it to me,” David said.
“But you wouldn’t understand it, David,” I told him. “You’re too young. Later, when you’re well and at home, I’ll read you some stories from the Book of Mormon.”
Again the whispered words, urgent this time. “Please read it to me, Mommy.”
Not knowing what else to do, and not wishing to further upset him, I began in First Nephi: “I, Nephi, having been born of goodly parents, …” I intended to read a few lines while he drifted off to sleep, and then continue my silent reading. Every time I thought he was asleep, my voice quieted and quit. Then, from the hospital bed, again and again, I heard, “Read it to me.”
And so I read it to him. I read all during the hospital stay, and then at home, where he lay attached to two tubes that drained fluids from his body into bags, one on each leg. Doctors had discovered a congenital defect that gave him only part of one kidney.
I did not read stories from the Book of Mormon. I read from the book itself. One morning, after David’s two sisters had gone to school and his two little brothers were sleeping, we sat together reading as usual. I stopped and looked down at him. “David, do you understand this?”
His blue eyes looked thoughtfully into mine. “Not all. But some of it.”
When I continued reading he stopped me and said, “Mother, kneel down.” Startled by the request, I simply knelt, feeling his small body at my side. Then, totally trusting, he said, “Now pray for me. Pray that I will understand the Book of Mormon.”
By the time we finished the book, David had turned five and was able to recognize and read many of the words on his own. Eventually he read alone. His health improved and, by the time he was baptized, he had read the whole thing by himself more than once. By the time he was ordained a deacon, he was eagerly preparing for a mission.
But during his sophomore year in high school, his physical condition worsened. His one remaining kidney deteriorated rapidly, and a transplant became necessary to save his life. His father was the donor. The eve of the surgery brought our ward members together in prayer and fasting. David was the happiest one present. “I don’t know why everyone is so worried,” he said. “This just means that I can make serious plans for my mission.” And by this time, daily reading of the Book of Mormon had become a habit that sustained him through his recovery.

The patriarchal order runs from Abraham to Isaac and to Jacob. Through the line of the priesthood, it continues in our own day and time. Through the ages, blessings and promises were given from the fathers to their faithful sons. A modern example of this is taken from the life of Elder John B. Dickson of the Seventy. He recalls:
“When it was time for me to go on a mission, I was very excited to serve the Lord. Just before I was to leave, however, I found out that I had bone cancer. The chance of living long enough to serve a mission wasn’t very high. I had faith that the Lord would provide a way if He wanted me to go. My father gave me a blessing in which I was told that I would serve my mission in Mexico, serve in the Church all my life, and have a family. My right arm had to be amputated above the elbow, but my life was spared, and the promises I was given have all been fulfilled.
“Some would think that losing an arm would be a terrible burden, but it has been one of the greatest blessings in my life. I learned that it is very important to have challenges and to face up to them.”
Elder Dickson had always been right-handed, and now he had to learn to do everything left-handed. One struggle was learning how to tie his ties. He said: “One Sunday morning when I was in my bedroom with my tie in my hand, I thought, How am I going to tie this? I thought about getting a clip-on tie. I thought about asking Mom to help me. But I couldn’t take her with me on my mission just to tie my ties. So I decided I had to learn how to do it myself. I finally figured it out by using my teeth. I still do it that way, even after having tied it thousands of times.”

One of our sons struggled with fitting in and self-esteem during his teenage years. My wife and I prayed to know how to help him, and we were willing to do whatever the Lord would have us do. One day I felt prompted to ask my elders quorum president if he knew of anyone in need who I could visit together with my son. After some thought, he asked us to visit a woman with significant health challenges and, with permission from the branch president, to bring the sacrament to her each week. I was elated but also concerned about how my son would react to this weekly commitment.
On our first visit, our hearts ached for this dear woman, as she was in constant pain. She was very grateful for the sacrament, and we enjoyed visiting with her and her husband. After a few visits, one Sunday I was away and could not accompany my son, but I reminded him of our assignment. When I got home, I couldn’t wait to hear how the visit went. My son replied that he didn’t think his classmates got to do cool things like this. And he elaborated by saying that he brought his brother with him to help and that the sacrament went smoothly, but this dear sister had been sad during the week because she had invited friends to her home to watch movies, but her video player would not work. My son said he searched online, found the problem, and fixed it for her on the spot. He felt useful, happy, and trusted to do something that brightened her day. He felt God’s love for him.

Some months after our baptism, my husband and I were faced with unexpected adversity. Some of our most distressing trials concerned our children. It seemed as though no week passed without one of them being admitted to the hospital.
These trials went on for almost two years. Our income as civil servants in Nigeria went toward medical bills. The financial strain was so great my husband and I had to sell many of our belongings just to obtain food. I even had to sell some of my clothes. We lost everything we had worked for. But none of these trials shook our faith. We remained active in our branch and true to our covenants. Even when we did not have money for transport, we walked to church on Sunday morning.
Today, Pricilia is a healthy and happy girl. She has not been sick one day since leaving the hospital. She is everything a parent could want a daughter to be. Furthermore, the sicknesses that so beset our family have passed. We have outlasted these trials and have truly been blessed.

Katie looked at the hole in her mother’s garden, then at her big shaggy dog. “Jolly, why do you dig so much?” she asked.
The big dog gave her a curious look.
Katie giggled. “And look at your face—it’s all covered with dirt.”
Jolly wagged his tail.
“I guess digging makes you happy. That’s all there is to it.” She reached down and fastened the leash she carried onto Jolly’s collar. “Time for our walk.”
Leading Jolly through the backyard gate and heading up Cranberry Lane, Katie smiled and waved to everyone she saw. “Know what, Jolly? The people on this street are probably the nicest neighbors in the whole wide world.”
When they walked past the house on the corner, though, Katie said, “But I do wonder about the new people. I don’t think they’re very nice at all.”
For years the Martins had lived in the house on the corner. Then last month they had moved away. Now some new people, named Logan, lived there.
The Martins had always let the kids play in their front yard, but the Logans had plowed it up, spread black dirt, planted grass seed, and posted a sign that read: KEEP OFF THE GRASS.
“I don’t like that sign,” Katie told Jolly. “It doesn’t belong on Cranberry Lane. I don’t think the Logans do, either. Neighbors on this street don’t tell other neighbors to stay away.”
Just then a car pulled into the Logan’s driveway, and a man got out. He wore a dark blue uniform.
“That must be Mr. Logan,” Katie whispered to Jolly. “Look, there’s something shiny pinned to his shirt. Oh, wow—it’s a badge! He must be a police officer! He’ll probably arrest anyone who steps on his lawn, even if it’s just an accident.”
After watching Mr. Logan go into his house, Katie turned and started for home, feeling a little scared. Things were never going to be the same, now that the law was keeping tabs on Cranberry Lane.
When she reached home, she took Jolly to the backyard. But before she could close the gate, he scampered through it and headed lickety-split up the street. When he got to the Logans’ yard, he stopped and began to dig.
When Katie finally caught up with him, she started shouting, “Jolly! Stop that!”
But the shaggy dog just started a new hole. Dirt flew everywhere.
Katie began to cry. “Jolly,” she wailed, “you’re going to get me arrested!”
Suddenly, as if he understood, Jolly stopped digging and ran pell-mell over to her and jumped up on her legs for a comforting pat.
“Oh, Jolly, you’re the only dog living on Cranberry Lane. Mr. Logan can easily find out who ruined his lawn. He’ll probably put me in jail!”
Katie quickly took Jolly home and to the backyard, where she carefully shut the gate. Then she went to the garage and got a garden rake. Dragging it behind her, she headed for the Logans’ house.
Knees knocking, heart pounding, Katie rang the bell.
Mr. Logan answered immediately. “Hello there,” he said.
Katie swallowed. “My name is K-K-Katie C-C-Cooper. My d-dog—” It was no use. Katie dissolved into tears.
Mr. Logan opened the screen door and stepped outside. “What about your dog?”
“He—he d-d-dug up your new gr-gr-grass,” she managed to get out.
“Oh, so I see. Tell you what—I’ll go get my rake, and you and I will do a little repair work.”
He wasn’t going to arrest her—he was going to help her! Katie could hardly believe it.
He returned with his rake and more grass seed, and the two of them went to work. “Know what, Katie? My wife and I have always lived in an apartment, so this yard is a dream come true for us. Especially now. My wife and I have a new baby boy—born last night!
“We want nice soft grass for him to play on,” Mr. Logan continued. “That’s why I put up the sign. Grass seed won’t grow if people walk on it, you know. But as soon as it has a good root system, the sign will come down. Then you kids can play here anytime.” He took a final swipe with his rake, then leaned on it and smiled at her. “Thank you for your honesty and your help, Katie Cooper.”
“Mr. Logan, if I hadn’t told you about Jolly and helped you fix the yard, would you have arrested me?”
Mr. Logan started to laugh, then became serious. “Katie, police officers don’t arrest children—or big shaggy dogs, either. At least not unless they’ve done something really bad. I’m just a regular neighbor, and I want to be a good one—like you were for me today. Promise me that you’ll come back soon. I want you to meet my wife and our new son.”
Katie smiled. “OK.”
“Good.” He turned and started to sprinkle grass seeds on the newly raked areas.
Suddenly Katie had a good idea. “Mr. Logan,” she called. “I’ll help keep the kids off your yard until the seed grows.”
He turned and gave her a thumbs-up sign.
She waved, then slung the rake over her shoulder and headed for home, feeling great. Jolly was waiting for her at the gate.
“Guess what, Jolly? That sign does belong on Cranberry Lane. And I don’t have to be afraid of Mr. Logan. He’s just like everybody else on this street—one of the nicest neighbors in the whole wide world!”

A number of years ago I had an assignment to accompany President Spencer W. Kimball to a regional conference. We had many meetings. After the conference a lovely dinner was held in the Prophet's honor. Eighteen stake presidents and their wives, together with a few others were in attendance. We were assembled in a large banquet room with tables covered with white linen arranged in a square. I was seated about as far from the head table as you could get. My seatmate was a long time friend Jerry Cahill who represented the public affairs department of the Church.
The master of ceremonies made a few remarks and turned the time over to the prophet. President Kimball rose to his feet, thanked everyone for their hospitality and then said, " I think I would like to hear from you. Would a representative of each of the couples please stand and tell me a little about yourselves, your families, and your experience in the Church."
As the president was giving these instructions Brother Cahill whispered to me, "This is going to be so great! I was with him in another conference when he did this. I have never been in a more spiritual meeting in my life. After they are through speaking President Kimball will stand again and say, 'Now let me introduce myself to you. My name is Spencer W. Kimball. Some say I am a prophet of God. Let me tell you a few things that have touched my soul today.'"
Just then the master of ceremonies jumped to his feet and took the microphone from the prophet. He was certain he knew what God wanted. He was certain that he knew what would be best for the stake presidents and their wives.
He said, "O we don't want to do that President. We can listen to them any time. We want to hear from you." President Kimball looked at him for a moment and said, "I think I'm feeling a little tired. I believe I would like to go to my room now."
And while that master of ceremonies may have had a testimony of the gospel, he didn't have a testimony of obedience. Like Sidney Rigdon, he didn't know what it meant to sit at the feet of a prophet, and his certainty that he knew what the Prophet wanted, kept him from hearing what the Lord might otherwise have taught him.

A new animal was coming to live in the zoo, and the other animals were excited. One morning a big truck backed up to an empty cage, and out stepped the new animal. The zookeeper hung a sign outside the cage that said “ZELMGID.”

The other animals stared in amazement. The zelmgid did not look like any animal that they had ever seen. He had a long neck and a long tail, and when he opened his mouth, he barked. One by one the other animals turned away from the cage. Because the zelmgid was so different, they were not sure how to treat him.

The zelmgid was very lonely. The animals ignored him, so he had no one to talk to. He was so sad that he didn’t eat. The zookeeper began to worry. People stopped visiting the zoo because the new animal was sad and the other animals hid in the backs of their cages.

One day the elephant heard the zelmgid barking to himself. “The zelmgid does have a good trunk,” he told the giraffe. “It’s not as long as mine, but it’s really quite nice.”

The giraffe stretched her neck to take a closer look. “Look at his strong neck. He can reach as high as I can.”

The lion was looking quietly at the new animal’s mane. “My goodness! He has an excellent mane—almost as thick as mine.”

Just then the zebra trotted by the cage. “His coat has a very nice pattern,” she said.

“And his horns are curved just right,” the ibex said, “just like mine.”

When the monkey came swinging from the trees, he said, “Look at that handsome tail. I wonder if the zelmgid would like to play tag?”

Finally the duck waddled by the cage. “What fine feet you have. You probably can swim faster than I can,” she said to him.

The zelmgid stopped crying and thanked the duck for the compliment. Soon all the animals were talking together. They felt much happier. Even though the zelmgid looked different, the other animals had all found something about the new animal that they liked.

The first initial rejections I received in my courtship with Christiane made me a little discouraged. I had just about decided to begin a fruitful career as a young single adult in the Church. One day I had a special spiritual impression. I was participating in an ordinance in the Swiss Temple when I heard a voice in my heart saying something to this effect: “Erich, if you do not seriously strive to marry and enter into the new and everlasting covenant, all these teachings and promised blessings really make no difference for you.” It was a wake-up call that I received at the very young age of twenty-one, and from that moment I tried even harder to be worthy of that blessing.

After the blessing, President McKay went out on the front porch and talked to me. He commented on how nice it was that I could be with my dad. He talked about the times he had been with his father. On one of those occasions, he said, they had come to Salt Lake City to general conference. He was just a young boy at the time. He was introduced to John Taylor, who was then President of the Church.
During their conversation, President Taylor showed him the scars on his arms from wounds he had suffered in Carthage Jail with the Prophet Joseph Smith on the day of the martyrdom. All his life President McKay had recalled talking firsthand with someone who had been in the presence of the Prophet Joseph. He said that since I was in his presence and he had been in the presence of someone who had known the Prophet, I, too, had a connection to Joseph Smith.

As a special gift for her dad, Carolyn learned to play one of his favorite hymns, “Christ the Lord Is Risen Today.” It is a difficult piece for a third-year piano student. “I worked and worked on it until I could do it,” she said. It is a special song for Brother Fox. Before he joined the Church, his father passed away. The next Sunday was Easter, and he went to the Methodist church. They sang “Christ the Lord is Risen Today.” It caused him to think about the Savior and to realize that he really did believe in Christ’s resurrection and that his father would be resurrected. Since then, that hymn has always made him feel close to the Savior and to his father. Carolyn’s efforts to learn to play it make the hymn even more special.

I can trace my first exposure to the word reconcile and my knowledge of the reconciliation process to a summer when I was a teenager working for the retail chain that employed my father as its chief financial officer. While I eventually moved to the Accounts Payable Department where I had a different boss, the first summer I worked directly for my father. My job was simple. I was given a desk with a four-function calculator, which as hard as it is to believe 45 years later, took up most of the space on the desk. I was given stacks of hand-written spreadsheets and asked to add the rows and columns in order to reconcile them. For example, there was an annual sales spreadsheet that had the monthly sales totals broken out by department. I was expected to add the columns to arrive at monthly sales totals, and also add the rows, which gave me year-to-date sales figures by department. The column totals and the row totals were not reconciled until they produced the same grand total in the bottom right-hand corner of the spreadsheet. Until I arrived at the same grand total I knew I had made a mistake and there was more work to do.

The greatest challenge I experienced reconciling a spreadsheet's row and column totals was finding my mistakes. I never knew whether my mistake was in the row or column totals, and sometimes it was both. Reconciliation would have been much easier if I knew the grand total was perfect and correct.

Our loving Father in Heaven, in His infinite wisdom created a perfect plan by which we could be reconciled to Him. First, He brought His perfect Son into the world. Jesus was without sin-He was a perfect and correct example of righteousness, and, therefore, we could be reconciled to God by being reconciled to Him. Then, through God, the Father's infinite grace, He allowed His Son, the only perfect man, to atone for the sins of His other children. Because Jesus Christ is faithful to God's perfect plan, everything we cannot do on our own, He, in His pre-ordained role as our Savior and Redeemer, does for us.

Jason:
I’ve been a member my whole life, but after my mission, there were a couple of years when I was less active. I started reactivating myself two years ago. During this time, I met my wife, Jackie, at a young single adult conference a month after she got baptized. She changed my life because I felt that I needed to be a better example.

After his mission, Jason was less active for a couple of years. While returning to Church activity, he met Jackie, a recent convert, at a young single adult conference. “She changed my life,” he says, “because I felt that I needed to be a better example.”

Like every mayor, Lindsay Anderson had to deal with the headaches of bureaucracy, endless meetings, and special-interest groups. Unlike other mayors, Lindsay had to do it all after school let out for the day.
West Bountiful, Utah, the town Lindsay calls home, is also home to a unique program that puts the youth of the town in the driver’s seat of city government. In order to give the youth an experience in leadership, the city council appoints a youth mayor and city council. Although the town has another, adult mayor, the youth mayor and council are responsible for activities and programs for the youth of West Bountiful. They also give their input and ideas to the regular city council.
“We hold meetings about every other week, and we plan for upcoming holidays like dances for the youth and Easter egg hunts for the little kids.”
Lindsay and her council have also begun work on ideas to help youth at risk, brainstorming ideas to help teenagers stay involved in positive activities. One successful program that is already in place is the West Bountiful Fourth of July dance.
“It’s great because we get such a huge response to the dance,” says Lindsay. “It’s a place to come and have a good time and stay out of trouble.”
As youth mayor, and before that as a member of the youth city council, Lindsay has learned a lot about how to manage people without stifling their creativity.
“During meetings it was hard to get everyone quiet, but that was kind of neat because they were all talking about their ideas. I’m not a shy person, but I don’t like to dominate people, so I like to be receptive to their ideas. That’s fun.”
Lindsay finds her inspiration in the two individuals she admires most: her father and Jesus Christ.
“My dad is a role model for sure. I love him. Also I learned that Jesus had a whole group of people to bring together. He taught by example and love. Like him, I hope that if I’m doing the right thing, people will follow in my footsteps.”
After a year in office, Lindsay has stepped down from her position, making way for a new youth mayor. As a Latter-day Saint, Lindsay believes in “obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law” (A of F 1:12). With a year of government experience under her belt, Lindsay may someday not only uphold the law; she may have a hand in making it.

Madeline, her clothes under her arms, ran down the stairs and into the kitchen where her mother was preparing breakfast. Mother looked up to say good morning to her little girl, but when she saw how pale and breathless Madeline was, she asked, “What’s the matter? Are you sick?”

“No,” answered Madeline, but at the moment she could say no more. She sank down onto a stool near the fireplace and stared into the flame. She wondered how she could ever put into words the strange dream she had just had, and what her mother would think if she could.

It had seemed in her dream that she was a young lady sitting on a small strip of meadow close to the vineyard and that as she watched to make sure the goats didn’t tramp on the vines and eat them, she glanced down at a Sunday School book in her lap. As she looked up again, she was startled to see three strange men.

At the remembrance, Madeline shivered in fright, just as she had shivered in her dream. But almost at once there came the feeling of peace that had flooded over her when one of the men said, “Don’t be frightened. We have come from a place far from here to tell you about the true and everlasting gospel.”

Then the men told her that an angel had directed a boy to find an important book of gold hidden in the earth. They said that someday she, Madeline, would be able to read this book, and then, because of it, she would gladly leave her home, cross the great ocean, and go to America to live.

In the warm sweet-smelling kitchen Madeline relived her dream. It seemed so real to her that she turned pale again and began to tremble. Father came in from milking the goats, and asked, just as her mother had done, “What’s the matter? Are you sick?”

Madeline could only shake her head. Father gently stooped down beside her, picked up a stocking, and without another word began to help her dress. Afterward he lifted her onto his lap and quietly asked, “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Madeline nodded. It was hard to get the words started, but then they seemed to tumble over each other in their eagerness to be spoken. Mother left her preparations for their simple breakfast of figs, potatoes, and goats milk so she could hear every amazing detail of the dream. Father listened intently, occasionally nodding his head as if he understood more than was being said.

Long after everyone else was asleep that night, Madeline could hear the murmur of her parents’ voices. The last thing she remembered before she went to sleep was hearing her mother insist, “But we already have the true gospel, so there couldn’t be any real meaning to that story Madeline told us.”

Madeline did not hear Father’s answer, but occasionally as the years went by, he would question her concerning her dream. Even though some of the details became vague to her, they never did to him.

Shortly afterward, on a Saturday afternoon, Madeline’s father went home early from his work of building a chimney for a neighbor. He told his family that three strangers were coming to bring an important message. “I must dress in my best clothes and go welcome them,” he said.

He found the men he was looking for on Sunday morning and invited them to go home with him. As they walked up over the winding paths and through the dangerously narrow mountain passes, Madeline’s father told them of the dream his daughter had had many years before.

When they reached his small rock home, they found Madeline sitting on a little strip of meadow close to the vineyard. She looked up from the Sunday School book she was reading into the faces of three men. They told her they had come to give her people the message contained in a wonderful book of gold that had been taken out of the earth, and said that she could now read this book.

That evening Madeline’s neighbors came to meet the strangers and hear their message. Some of the men found it so unusual and exciting that they stayed up all night to learn more about the newly revealed truths that had been brought to them by these missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Some baptisms were held in October 1850. Twenty families eventually accepted the gospel, and as Madeline’s dream became a reality, the Vaudois area truly became “A Light Shining in Darkness.”