Gospel Story Finder

On October 22, some of the rescuers pushed on to help the other handcart companies, while William H. Kimball, with the remaining wagons, started back to Salt Lake City in charge of the Willie company.
Those too weak to pull their handcarts placed their possessions in the wagons and walked beside them. Those unable to walk rode in the wagons. When they arrived at Rocky Ridge, another terrible snowstorm fell upon them. As they struggled up the side of the ridge, they had to wrap themselves in blankets and quilts to keep from freezing to death. About 40 of the company had already perished.3
The weather was so cold that many of the Saints suffered frostbite on their hands, feet, and faces while crossing the ridge. One woman was blinded by the frost.
We can imagine the Moultons, with their brood of eight children, pulling and pushing their two carts as they struggled through the deep snow. One cart was drawn by Thomas and his wife with its precious cargo?Lottie, Lizzie, and baby Charles?with little James Heber stumbling and being dragged along by the rope around his waist. The other cart was drawn and pushed by Sarah Elizabeth and the other three children. A kind, elderly woman, seeing little James Heber’s struggle, grasped his hand as he trailed behind the handcart. This kindly act saved his right hand, but his left hand, exposed to the subzero weather, froze. When they reached Salt Lake City, several of his fingers on that hand were amputated.

As a junior high school teacher with eight children, I needed to provide at least GHC 5.00 as pocket money to each child every school day. None of the days were for rest in my family, including Sundays. My wife needed to work hard with the children to make ends meet. She sold mashed kenkey (ice kenkey), water, cocoa drinks, or farm produce I brought from the farm I owned aside my teaching job.
After my family’s baptism, the missionaries taught us the importance of Sabbath day observance. We found it difficult and inconvenient to observe the Sabbath due to the high financial challenges we faced. The missionaries taught us to our understanding from scriptures such as Mosiah 13:16–19 and Exodus 20:8–11. Reading such scriptures overturned events of the family. We prayed for the Lord to help us keep His day holy by providing for our needs from Monday to Saturday.
While offering a prayer in our family home evening one Monday, I declared that henceforth there should be no more sales on Sundays. My children jubilated with the hope that Heavenly Father would provide. The Lord indeed answered my prayers. Each of these children have now completed various levels in their education, and four of them are returned missionaries with university education.
Thus, the Savior will bless His people who obey and keep the Sabbath day holy.

On another occasion, we were at the visitors’ center on Temple Square with these same grandchildren. Two-year-old Ashley was tired and wanted to leave. Sister Mask asked her if she wanted to see a big Jesus like the one on our wall. She asked, “Is He as big as me?” “Even bigger,” Sister Mask replied. When that tiny, little girl looked up at the majestic Christus, she ran and stood at the feet and gazed up reverently for several minutes. When her father indicated it was time to go, she said, “No, no, Daddy. He loves me and wants to give me hugs!”

On a warm July evening, 2,500 young Latter-day Saints from Southern California congregate next to the football stadium at the University of Redlands. It’s 20 minutes before showtime on opening night, and the youth dressed in colorful dance costumes are excited to perform their dance festival show after two years of planning and months of dance practices.
One group of youth begins to clap and chant “It’s dance time” as they cheer. All around them other participants are practicing their parts alone or with partners.
Soon they all line up to go into the stadium, and after the prayer and opening number, all 2,500 of them flow onto the field. The California Dreamin’ dance festival has just begun.
During the next two hours the youth move across the field performing dances like the waltz, cha-cha, and swing to live music performed by other youth and adults. When it’s over, the crowd cheers and the dancers hold their heads high, grateful for the opportunity to participate in this great event.
The last regional dance festival in Southern California was held in 1985 at the Rose Bowl, where more than 13,000 youth participated. Jim Nelson, the organizer of the California Dreamin’ dance festival remembers watching that 1985 festival. “I was just overwhelmed,” he recalls. “That festival just stuck in my memory.”
Years later as a member of the Riverside California Stake presidency, Brother Nelson suggested a dance festival as an idea for a multistake youth conference. He contacted other stakes in the region, and 12 of them decided to participate.
Many of the youth who participated were reluctant at first, but as they got into practices and met new friends, they were grateful for their leaders’ decisions to join in the festival.
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing,” says Carlos Rodriguez, 17, of the Sun City Ward in the Menifee California Stake. “They only do this once in many years, and it’s pretty cool for us that we get to do it.”
After so many years since the last regional dance festival, the leaders of these stakes were inspired by a 2004 letter from the First Presidency that encouraged local leaders to hold multistake events. The letter noted that cultural events gave youth “a sense of unity and opportunities to develop friendships.”
“Our prophet wanted us to do things like this, and doing this is a great chance to follow him,” says Akita Lagazo, 14, of the Banning Ward in the Yucaipa California Stake.
Kim Sandstrom, 16, of the Redhawk Ward in the Temecula California Stake thinks she knows why the Church would encourage activities like the dance festival. “I think as a whole we weren’t doing enough activities all together like this,” she says. “Church leaders realized so many people were drifting, and they thought these activities would help.”
That help has come because the young men and women who participated had their testimonies strengthened by being around other members of the Church their age.
“I was surprised to see how many people were here,” says Corbin Turner, 12, of the Rolling Ridge Ward in the Chino Stake. “It’s nice to know that it’s not just us, but there’s a bunch of other youth here with us.”
Fellow ward member Dallas Parker, 13, agrees. He says the dance festival “has helped to strengthen my testimony because I know there are more people out there than just us that are willing to live up to the standards we live up to.”
Many of the dance festival participants say they were surprised to learn there were so many members of the Church their age living so close by. Knowing they are not alone gives them the strength they need to not only learn new dances, but to accomplish other things in life.
“If you really want to achieve something and get somewhere with the standards that you have, it helps to have so many other people around you doing it,” says McKenna Lawler, 17, of the Butterfield Stage Ward in the Temecula California Stake.
Putting together a dance festival for 2,500 youth was no easy feat. It took a lot of effort from hundreds of adult volunteers who organized, chaperoned, and taught dances. It also required a lot of hard work from youth who learned new dances although many of them had no dancing experience.
Beth Houghtaling, 18, of the La Sierra Ward in the Jurupa California Stake said learning the waltz for the dance festival was “a really cool experience. Now I’ll always know how to do the waltz, and that’s something I’ll take with me.”
Because of their experience in the dance festival, the participants not only learned new dances, but also life skills that will help them in other endeavors.
“You learn to rely on others a lot,” says Samantha Fokken, 16, of the Menifee Ward in the Menifee California Stake. “If one person doesn’t show up, it could mess up the whole dance.”
Michael McKhann of the Foothill Ward in the Jurupa California Stake has learned that “hard work pays off, because you’re going to end up with something great.”
With more than 2,500 youth dancing on the field, making friends, and strengthening testimonies, the California Dreamin’ dance festival turned out to be just that: something great.

Just having somewhere specifically for young people has already made a difference for missionary work. Elder Webb tells of two missionaries who were on a university campus contacting young single adult students. They were turned down flat by the first 10 people they contacted. Then they changed their approach, mentioning the wonderful new center nearby for young single adults where there were all kinds of activities and classes. The missionaries reported having serious conversations with 28 of the next 30 people they contacted.

It was my turn to stop someone and talk to them about the Church. I had been in Germany only two days and I was already terrified of the people and my calling as a missionary.
I frantically searched the street for someone I thought might react positively. I wondered how I was ever going to do this for the next 18 months.
I didn’t want my companion to know how scared I was, so I held my breath and walked up to a woman in her early 40s. But instead of asking her the questions I had intended to, I turned from her and ran. The anticipation was more than I could handle—I had to escape.
When I was finally able to collect my thoughts, the embarrassment swelled inside of me and I desperately wanted to hide. My fear had been exposed, and it was preventing me from being a good missionary.
Unfortunately, as the days went by, my fear did not subside, and I began to worry I would never be a happy, brave, and successful missionary. My fear became the main topic of all my private prayers.
Nothing seemed to help until I had been in the mission field about two weeks. It was a chilly spring morning and my companion was making breakfast. I was sitting on the floor looking up scriptures on missionary work and reading them out loud.
“Doctrine and Covenants 84:88,” I said. “And whoso receiveth you, there I will be also.” [D&C 84:88] My voice broke. My mind raced as I realized the support I had as a missionary.
I started again, “And whoso receiveth you, there I will be also, for I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.”
I had no reason to be afraid of teaching people about the gospel. Heavenly Father was on my right hand and on my left, and his angels were around me to make me strong. From that morning on, whenever a wave of fear came over me, I just imagined those angels all around my investigator, my companion, and me. There was no way I could lose with that kind of support.

Sometimes we feel that we don’t have any particularly important gifts. One day, a discouraged sister pleaded, “Lord, what is my personal ministry?” He answered, “Notice others.” It was a spiritual gift! Since then, she has found joy in noticing those who are regularly forgotten, and God has worked through her to bless many. While some spiritual gifts may not be prominent by the world’s standards, they are essential to God and His work.7

And love endures through the hardships of life. The Apostle Paul taught: “Charity suffereth long. … [It] beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth” (1 Corinthians 13:4, 7, 8). I watched a mother’s enduring love for her alcoholic son. She never gave up praying for him and being available for him. In his later years, he finally “came to himself” (Luke 15:17), kept a respectable job, and used his mechanical skills to fix up his mother’s house.

Three weeks ago I was at a stake conference in the lovely little mountain community of Prescott, Arizona. Following the delightful events of that weekend a sister silently slipped me a note as she and others came by to shake hands and say good-bye. With some hesitation I share a portion of it with you this morning. Please focus on the doctrine this sister teaches, not the participants in the exchange.
“Dear Elder Holland, thank you for the testimony you bore in this conference of the Savior and His love. Forty-one years ago I prayed earnestly to the Lord and told Him I wished I had lived on earth when the Apostles walked upon it, when there had been a true Church, and when Christ’s voice was still heard. Within a year of that prayer Heavenly Father sent two LDS missionaries to me, and I found that all those hopes could be realized. Perhaps some hour when you are tired or troubled, this note will help you remember why hearing your voice and shaking your hand is so important to me and to millions just like me. Your sister in love and gratitude, Gloria Clements.”

“Bookworm! Bookworm!”
Katie pretended she didn’t hear Brian and Matt yelling. She hugged her books to her chest and walked faster, but the taunts still rang down the hall. “Bookworm! Bookworm!”
She felt her face getting hot, and she wanted to turn around and scream at them. Instead she half ran, half walked the rest of the way to the school library door, pulled it open, and slipped inside. She could still hear Brian and Matt laughing.
“Hi, Katie,” said Mrs. Reid. Katie thought it was funny for the librarian to be named Mrs. Reid.
“Hi,” said Katie softly, looking at the floor.
“What’s the matter, Katie?”
“Oh, just Brian and Matt. They were being mean again and calling me dumb names like ‘bookworm.’”
Mrs. Reid began to laugh. Katie looked up at her in surprise, and a sick feeling started in her stomach. “It isn’t funny!”
“Sure it is,” said Mrs. Reid, trying to stop her laughter. “I thought a bookworm was a squiggly bug that eats novels. And I have never ever seen you with your mouth full of pages!”
Katie looked down at the books in her arms and started to smile a little as she thought, What would those boys think if they saw me chewing up books and spitting out the covers? Aloud she said, “Mrs. Reid, you are the silliest grown-up I’ve ever met!”
“Sure,” said Mrs. Reid. “That’s one reason you like me. Now, can I show you my favorite book for this week? Or are you still reading the Black Stallion?”
“No, I finished it. It was as good as you said it would be!”
While Mrs. Reid went to get the book she had saved, Katie sat by one of the desks and looked at the new bulletin board. It said, BE KIND TO YOUR BOOKS.
Just last week Katie’s dad had said almost the same thing. Katie’s brother, Sam, had dropped his scriptures on the lawn after church. Dad had put his hands on his hips and said, “Samuel Jacob Rotheree, please take better care of my favorite books!”
Katie knew why they were Dad’s favorite books, even though they didn’t have shiny pictures on the covers like Mrs. Reid’s did. It was because they told about Jesus.
Mrs. Reid came back waving a new novel. “Wait until you read this, Katie!”
While Mrs. Reid was checking out the new book, Katie leaned against the desk. “Mrs. Reid,” she asked, “do you know about Jesus?”
Mrs. Reid looked surprised. “Well, sure. But I don’t think about Him much. Why?”
“Oh,” said Katie. “I just wondered.” She took the book and left the library. How could anyone not think about Jesus much?
That night when Katie was ready for bed, Dad came in to hear her say her prayers and tuck her in.
“Dad, Mrs. Reid says she doesn’t think about Jesus very much.”
Dad sat down on the edge of her bed. “Who is Mrs. Reid?”
“The school librarian. She’s really nice. She always saves her favorite books for me, and they’re good ones too. But she said she doesn’t think about Jesus. I thought everyone thought about Him.”
“Do you think about Jesus?”
“Yes.” Katie looked at the picture of Jesus she had hung on the wall. “I love Him because He is so kind.”
Dad squeezed her hand and smiled. “Why else do you love Jesus?”
Katie squinted her eyes and thought. “Well,” she said slowly, “because I like to read stories about Him—like when He went to see the Nephites and blessed all the little children.”
“I wonder if Mrs. Reid knows that story.”
Suddenly Katie felt excited. She sat straight up in bed. “Yeah, Dad! What if she doesn’t know that story? Can I take her a Book of Mormon?”
Dad was really smiling now. “Sure—that’s a good idea. I’ll tell you what, Katie. I have a brand new copy of the Book of Mormon that you can give her. I’ll get it for you.” In a few minutes he came back with a blue Book of Mormon that had a picture of the Angel Moroni on the cover. He suggested that Katie write her testimony in the front of it.
For a long time Katie chewed on the end of her pencil and tried to think of what to write. Finally she carefully wrote:
Dear Mrs. Reid,
This is my favorite book because it tells about Jesus. Jesus is Heavenly Father’s Son, and I love Him. I hope you love Him too. I love you, Mrs. Reid.
Your friend, Katie Rotheree.
When she finished writing, she felt warm, happy, and sleepy. Dad hugged her tight and said, “I’ll wrap it for you.”
The next morning Katie walked slowly to the library. She wondered if Mrs. Reid would like her present. Katie was so nervous that she almost didn’t want to give it to her anymore.
Brian and Matt came around the corner and saw her. “Hey! It’s the bookworm!” Matt sang out.
Katie ran to the library. Taking a deep breath, she walked right up to Mrs. Reid and held out the Book of Mormon.
“Good morning, Katie,” said Mrs. Reid. “What’s this?”
“My favorite book,” said Katie. “I want to give it to you so you can read it too.”
The librarian unwrapped the package, opened the book, and read what Katie had written. Then she closed the book and looked into Katie’s eyes. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I’ll read it. And, Katie, I love you too.”
The warm feeling Katie had had the night before came back, only stronger. She felt as if she could hug the whole world.
The warning bell was ringing as Katie waved good-bye to Mrs. Reid and went back out into the hall.
“Hi, bookworm,” said Brian as he and Matt walked past her.
Katie felt so good that she just giggled. Brian and Matt looked surprised. “I am a bookworm!” she said. “Do you want to see me eat books?”
Brian and Matt looked at her, then at each other. Suddenly all three of them were laughing and hurrying together down the hall to class.

Caroline Tippets and her family worked hard, both physically and spiritually. Caroline’s brothers worked in sawmills, helping shape the lumber that was abundant in the state of New York, USA, where they lived. Their family had joined the Church in 1832. Now one of her brothers, Alvah, led the branch of Saints in their area.
In 1834, Alvah had told them about a revelation the Lord had given to the Prophet Joseph Smith asking members to donate or loan money to help “establish Zion” (Doctrine and Covenants 101:74). Knowing that the Church needed to buy land where the Saints could gather, Caroline, age 21, agreed to give $150 in cash and $107 in property, which was more than anyone else in the branch was donating.1
Caroline, her younger brother, Joseph, and one of their cousins stopped in Kirtland, Ohio, on their way to Missouri. They met with Joseph Smith and the Kirtland high council. A cloud of debt hung over the Church at this time, and the high council asked if Caroline would be willing to loan the Church some of her money. As the meeting notes state, “It was ascertained by the council [that] Sister Caroline Tippets held $149.75 of the money. … She was accordingly called into the council and expressed a willingness to loan the same.”2
Caroline saw the loan agreement signed by Joseph Smith, Oliver Cowdery, and Frederick Williams. But she probably didn’t see Joseph and Oliver kneeling in prayer the next day, giving “thanks for the relief which the Lord had lately sent.”3 Thanks to Caroline’s willingness to share her resources, the Church was able to pay off some debt and continue building the Kirtland Temple.

But just as the Lord blessed Joseph Smith in ways that enabled him to complete his work, the Lord blesses His translators. For instance, the translator of the Latvian scriptures was a lawyer who had studied law in Russia, where he had been converted to the restored gospel. Back in Latvia, he was setting up his business. He was also serving as a branch president. He couldn’t have been busier, but the Church needed him and his facility with English.
He asked for time to pray about the request because accepting it would, as he told the Church representative, “take food out of the mouth of my children.” After praying, he decided to accept but asked the Lord to bless him with the means to do what is a difficult, spiritually demanding, time-consuming work.
He began going to his law office one hour earlier every day and using that hour to translate the Book of Mormon. He finished well under the five years the process usually takes. In fact, this was one of the fastest translations since Joseph translated the Book of Mormon in roughly 60 days.

One of the most profound means of instilling a righteous image in our children is through the use of scripture and family stories. My own image of what I wanted to be began with stories of my great-grandfather, Robert D. Young. He lived to be ninety-five years old and died when I was fourteen years old. But I love the man as much as if he had walked with me and taught me every step I was to take.
I have few recollections of my own concerning him, but I was raised on stories about him. One of my favorites told of how as a young teenager he had hired on with a group of cowboys to run a herd of cattle from Colorado to Texas. During the first few days of the journey, the owner of the herd, a very wealthy man with no family of his own, rode with the group, but then left to attend to other business. As the cowboys made their way to Texas, the other men, all older than grandfather, spent their free time in pursuits that grandfather didn’t consider worthwhile. Instead of joining them, he would find a quiet spot and study mathematics and engineering.
The night before they arrived at their destination, the other cowboys decided they wanted to go into a nearby town and celebrate their safe arrival. They tried to get grandfather to go, but grandfather insisted that he had been hired to tend the cattle, and he would do just that. Later that night, the owner returned to find grandfather alone with his cattle. He was so impressed that he offered grandfather one-half of all he owned if he would become his business partner. Grandfather would have never again wanted for anything, but he refused. He said he just didn’t feel like that was what the Lord wanted him to do.
Many times during my youth I remember thinking, “I want to be just like my grandfather!” Other times I would ask myself, “Now what would grandfather do?” and then act accordingly.

A dance festival? Sharon Leo had never seen one, and now she was invited to dance in one. An 18-year-old nonmember living in central Utah, Sharon had been around Mormons all of her life. Now her friend Jolynne Taylor of the Orem Utah Sharon West Stake had asked Sharon to join her in a five-stake dance festival to be held in the huge BYU Marriott Center. With reservations, Sharon accepted.
Rehearsals occupied every Saturday morning for months as Sharon found herself practicing square dances, Swiss polkas, disco numbers, karate exercise numbers, Greek line dances, the English quadrille (her specialty), and many other dances with 600 fathers, mothers, young adults, teens, and children. Sharon’s view of Mormonism began to expand as she met new people and made more friends.
Then there were the costumes to make. While Sharon was struggling to put in a zipper and get the length of her costume correct, others were also sewing like crazy—especially where whole families were participating. Cori Dawn Anderson, 16, of the Orem Utah Sharon West Stake, commented, “Being in the dance festival as a whole family was a good experience. The hardest part was making seven costumes in two weeks. But with everyone helping and sewing in their spare time, we got them all finished. It was really fun, and despite all the work, it was worth it.”
During the rush of practices and costume making, Sharon Leo began taking the missionary discussions.
As Sharon grew in gospel knowledge, the dance festival grew in excitement among its participants. Bishops, stake presidents, and high council members responded to the challenge to participate and brought their families. Miriam Abegg, 17, whose father is on the Orem Utah West Central Stake high council said, “The dance festival was fantastic! I could feel that the Lord’s Spirit was with us during our performance. And I enjoyed practicing with my family. It helped me to see my dad with different eyes—enjoying square dancing, whirling and throwing my mom and us kids up in the air. It was a lot of work, but it was fun to work with other people—especially my own family, even though my brother did drop me on the floor one time.”
Suddenly, the day of the performance was upon them. Between the final dress rehearsal and the evening performance, a different kind of event took place. As Sharon’s family, friends, missionaries, teachers, and priesthood administrators watched, she stepped into the waters of baptism. Jolynne’s father performed the baptism, and Jolynne’s mother accompanied the hymns at the piano. Jolynne waited at the top of the baptismal steps to be the first to give Sharon a hug of fellowship. It was a beautiful time of reverence in an exciting day.
The dance performance filled the evening. As the Marriott Center darkened, over 6,000 spectators sat waiting. Suddenly the lights flashed on to the throb of Star Wars music, and the youth and their families began a spectacular show complete with bright lights, colorful costumes, and exciting dances. The dance numbers that had been such stumbling blocks—difficult to learn, difficult to find music for—suddenly were magnificent. The costumes, made mostly from donated materials, looked professional. The organization and technical details, so ragged in rehearsal, suddenly ran smoothly and professionally.
As Joycelynn Demaree, the costume chairman, remarked, “There were so many little miracles and acts of faith that took place during the putting on of the festival. It was a lot of hard work, but to see the whole thing come together was worth every minute of the thousands of hours involved.”

One night after contemplating the upcoming change, I dreamed about my great-great-grandfather Joseph Skeen. I knew from his journal that when he and his wife, Maria, moved to Nauvoo, he desired to serve, so he sought out the Prophet Joseph Smith and asked how he could help. The Prophet sent him to work on the prairie and told him to do the best he could, so he did. He worked on the Smiths’ farm.

Fulfilling callings requires faith. Shortly after Joseph began working on the farm, he and Maria became very sick. They had no money and were among strangers. It was a difficult time for them. In his journal, Joseph wrote, “We worked along [and] hung on to the Church with what little faith we had, though the devil tried to destroy us and turn us back.”

I, along with hundreds of other descendants, will be eternally grateful that Joseph and Maria did not turn back. Blessings come as we persevere in our callings and responsibilities and hang on with all the faith we have.

Tina’s brown eyes flashed as she rechecked her duffle bag, making certain she had everything she would need on the vacation.
“Is everyone ready?” Dad asked. “It’s time to go.”
Soon the car was crammed with luggage and camping gear. Tina saw a suitcase next to the cooler chest. Surrounded by beach towels and sleeping bags, the suitcase looked out of place. Suitcases were for dressy clothes, and dressy clothes were for special days like Sunday. This vacation would take ten days, Dad had said, so they wouldn’t be home for Church meetings.
As Tina thought about being away from home on Sunday, she remembered what Sister Gustafson, her Primary teacher, had told the class about Sunday being a day of worship and rest. Sister Gustafson was going to ask each child how he had spent his Sundays for an entire month, and she would pay special honor to those who had kept the Sabbath days holy. Tina worried that she would probably be the only one in the class who would miss any Primary and sacrament meetings. How can Sunday be a holy day when we’re camping at the lake? Tina wondered. She turned to wave good-bye to the friend who would take care of her little kitten while she was gone.
As they drove past the church and the school and out of town, the family sang, “Give, Said the Little Stream,” “The Golden Plates,” and Tina’s favorite, “Book of Mormon Stories.” Because Josh liked “Smiles,” and because he was the youngest in the family, they sang it again and again. Mom said she liked that song, too, because it made her happy.
As soon as they arrived at their lakeside camp, everyone went swimming. After supper was over and all the marshmallows had been toasted and eaten, Tina and Josh got ready for bed and climbed into their sleeping bags. Mom and Dad listened to their prayers and kissed them good night.
All week long the children played in the sand and swam in the lake. They fished. They climbed hills. And they fed potato chips to bushy-tailed squirrels.
On Saturday evening Tina helped Mom fix a picnic lunch for the next day. Then her mother asked everyone to help carry enough water to shampoo their hair and bathe. As Tina carried her small bucket of water from the lake, she laughed and sang,
“Saturday is a special day,
It’s the day we get ready for Sunday.
We clean our tent,
And we gather the wood
So we won’t have to work until Monday.
We brush our clothes,
And we shine our shoes,
And we call it our clean-up-our-camp day.
Then we tote the water
To shampoo our hair,
So we can be ready for Sunday.”*
Tina liked feeling clean, and she was glad that the picnic lunch was already made, because that meant no cooking the next day.
Because the next day was Sunday, Tina remembered her teacher’s words, “Sunday is a day of worship and rest.” Well, she could rest, and she wouldn’t play, but how could they have a regular worship service when their family was camping?
That night, as Tina sat watching the campfire, Mom brought the suitcase from the car and opened it. Dad took a piece of wrinkled paper out of it, smoothed it with his hand, and with a twinkle in his eye announced, “Tomorrow we’re going on a treasure hunt. This map shows where we can find something to help us to be happy for the rest of our lives.”
Then Mom took four books from the suitcase. Keeping one for herself, she gave one to Tina, one to Josh, and one to Dad. Tina opened her book. It was full of blank pages. Josh’s book was the same. Someone had written in Mom’s book, and in Dad’s, too, but most of their pages were also blank. What kind of books are these? Tina wondered.
Josh was given a turn to take something from the suitcase. He found some postcards and stamps. Then it was Tina’s turn. She looked in and found her favorite Sunday dress! And there was Mom’s green dress and Dad’s suit and tie. Josh’s best outfit was there too. Then Dad said, “We’ll wear our best clothes on our treasure hunt tomorrow.”
The next morning the family got up early and dressed in their Sunday clothes. When they got into the car, Tina helped read the treasure map, directing Dad to cross a bridge and then to take Ryre’s Road west for eighteen miles to where a large red star had been penciled in on the map. That must be where the treasure is! Tina decided.
Dad drove for eighteen miles and stopped right in front of a meetinghouse.
“That’s it—the treasure is where we learn about the gospel!” Tina declared excitedly.
It was wonderful going to church in that little town. People they didn’t even know smiled at Tina and her family.
After the meetings, the family returned to camp. Taking the picnic basket, the blank notebooks, and the postcards, they walked to a small wooded area. After lunch, mother read from her little book, which she called a journal. She showed Tina and Josh how they, too, could keep a journal of the things they did.
Tina and Josh wrote in their special books. Tina also wrote some postcards to send to her friends. The message she liked best was the one she sent to her Primary teacher. It said:
“Dear Sister Gustafson,
Please tell all the class that I kept the Lord’s Sabbath-day commandment. Sunday was a day of rest and worship for our family on our vacation. It was the best day of my vacation.
Love, Tina.”

In the months leading up to Christmas in 1998, my husband and I wanted to celebrate Christmas in a different way than we had ever done before. In the past we had celebrated Christmas by meeting with relatives and friends, having dinner together, and opening our gifts on Christmas Eve, which is the tradition in our home country of El Salvador.
But this year we felt a deep desire to teach our two small children the true meaning of Christmas. We wanted our children to know that Christmas is more than lights and bright colors, more than parties and celebrations, more than wrapping paper and ribbons, more than decorating a tree, more than hugs and best wishes.
As Christmas Eve drew near, we weren’t sure what we were going to do that night, but I felt free of the stress that normally overwhelms me at Christmastime. We decided we would not go out with friends that night or make any other social commitments. Instead, we would spend the night in simple celebration as a family. Our thoughts would center around our Savior.
On Christmas Eve, I prepared a delicious dinner. As we sat down at the table, our young daughter, Ileana, said expectantly, “It seems like someone is coming tonight.” I struggled to keep tears from my eyes. I hoped Jesus Christ would indeed accept our humble invitation.
After dinner, my husband taught us about the birth of Jesus Christ as described in the second chapter of Luke. When he read verses 13 and 14—“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men”—we silently joined with the heavenly hosts in thanking our Eternal Father for sending His Son to atone for our sins. Then Ileana read to us the meaning of Christmas symbols. We opened a few simple gifts and took photographs.
Our evening together was filled with reverence, love, and gratitude for Jesus Christ. We experienced a sweet joy we had never felt before on Christmas Eve.

During my school’s values-education month, our teacher asked us to write an essay titled “Why am I here?” It had to be a 10-paragraph essay on the topic of our purpose in life. As I read the topic on the board, my heart was filled with comfort and happiness. As a member of the Church, I had known my purpose as a daughter of God for many years. But as I looked at my other classmates’ faces, my heart was filled with sadness. Why? Because they started to murmur regarding the difficulty of the topic. They didn’t have the same knowledge I did.
When I turned in my essay, I realized how blessed I am to be a member of the one true Church. From that day on, my desire to serve a mission and share my testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ was strengthened.
I know that Heavenly Father loves me and wants me to be with Him someday. I also know that it is my purpose to serve others.

As a young missionary, I was assigned to a group of seventeen small islands in the South Pacific. One day a member told us that if we would be at a certain harbor on a particular island when the sun set the next day, a family would meet us there and listen to the discussions.
What joy that news brought! It was like finding a piece of gold. I quickly found four other members who were experienced sailors who agreed to take me to this island the next day.
We made good progress for a few hours, but as the sun climbed higher and the boat got farther from land, the wind began to play out and soon quit altogether, leaving us bobbing aimlessly on a smooth ocean.
Time passed. The sun got higher, the sea calmer. Nothing moved. We soon realized that unless something changed, we would not arrive by sundown. I suggested that we pray and plead with the Lord to send some wind. I offered a prayer. When I finished, things seemed calmer than ever. We continued drifting.
I thought, “There is a family at the harbor that wants to hear the gospel. We are here in the middle of the ocean and want to teach them. The Lord controls the elements [weather]. All that stands between us and the family is a little wind. Why won’t He send it? It’s a righteous desire.”
As I was so wondering, I noticed [a] faithful older brother move to the rear of the boat. He unlashed the tiny lifeboat and carefully lowered it over the side.
He looked at me and softly said, “Get in. I am going to row you to shore, and we need to leave now to make it by sundown.”
I was dumbfounded [speechless]. It was miles to shore. The sun was hot, and this man was old.
The old man did not look up, rest, or talk, but hour after hour he rowed and rowed and rowed.
Just as the sun dipped into the ocean, the skiff [boat] touched the shore of the harbor. A family was waiting. The old man spoke for the first time in hours and said, “Go. Teach them the truth. I’ll wait here.”
I told the family, “When we exercise faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, we can do things we could not otherwise do. When our hearts are determined to do right, the Lord gives us the power to do so.”
The family believed and eventually was baptized.

William Prabhudas of the Bangalore Second Branch works in a courthouse. He knows how heart wrenching it can be to see marriages torn apart. That’s one of the reasons he and his wife were so eager to find strength in the temple.
“Like most couples, sometimes we have small issues to work out,” he says. “But working them out is so much easier when we both have an eternal perspective.”
His wife, Sheela, says that going to the temple has helped not only her and her husband, but it has also helped their children: Celesta, age 13, and Doris, 7. “We were sealed as a family,” Sheela says. “It was a good feeling. We forgot the outside world, and it was like heaven for us. We talk about it all the time.”
“What a blessing to be sealed to my wife,” Brother Prabhudas says. “And then they brought our daughters in, dressed in white, to join us. It reminded me of cleanliness—cleanliness in our lives and in our homes. Cleanliness and the temple go hand in hand. When we are clean, the Lord promises—in His house of promises—to bless us.”
Celesta recalls that her family worked, planned, and saved for two years to be able to travel to the temple. But most of all, she remembers being in the temple with her parents and that her aunt and uncle and cousins were also there to see her family sealed. “Afterward, we all held hands together. We looked in the mirrors and thought about eternity,” she recalls. “It was beautiful. I knew I wanted to belong to my family forever.”