Gospel Story Finder

When I was in high school, my mom would place the New Era so that when I came home from school, I would be sure to see it. I usually glanced at the cover and that was it. My freshman year of college my mom started sending me the New Era every month. At first I would just put it on the coffee table hoping to impress someone. Now in my sophomore year, I anxiously await the arrival of the New Era. I really appreciate the uplifting articles and the inspirational musical numbers. Now I don’t have to use the New Era to impress anyone but myself.
Heidi SmithEllensburg, Washington

As my parents reached middle age, my mother encountered early-onset Alzheimer’s. My father was determined to faithfully serve as her caretaker, even when her condition required full-time care. Even through these latter years, my father reached out to me through weekly, and, in some periods, daily, phone calls and letters. I had always had a close relationship with both my parents, but during the last 10 years of my father’s life, we became particularly close. I realized then too that he was equally successful in drawing near to my three siblings in the same way—even given the differences in interests and faiths we chose as we all grew older.
Photograph by Del Benson
My parents and my family lived on opposite coasts of the United States during those last years, and they made two cross-country visits, even though my mother’s Alzheimer’s had advanced to the point where assisting her on a long-distance flight was very difficult for Dad.
At this same time, one by one my children all decided to stop attending church. Two eventually had their names removed from Church records. This has certainly been the trial of both my wife’s and my life. And even though he wasn’t a Latter-day Saint, my father was pained and confused by our children’s choices as well. He was a privately religious man, and he joined us through those years in praying for them.
In 2005 my father passed away after being diagnosed with cancer, and my mother passed away three years later. My wife and I rejoiced in acting as their proxies in providing temple ordinances after their deaths.
I’ve long prayed to understand how best to relate to our children now that they’re adults, some with their own spouses and children, none of whom are LDS. We are emotionally close to all four of our children, and we are grateful that they often reach out in love to us.
I eventually received a very clear answer of how I must conduct myself, possibly for the rest of my life, regarding these adult children. I needed to do what my father had done with me. In spite of the different lives we lived and the different religious perspectives we had, my father was determined to draw closer to me as a father and a friend while I experienced the pain of seeing my children choose different lifestyles and beliefs from mine. I realized I must follow the example of my father, who taught me how to treat children of a different faith: love them completely, just as the Savior would.

“World War II was a time of great spiritual turmoil for me. I had left my home in Brigham City, Utah, with only embers of a testimony, and I felt the need for something more. … While stationed on the island of Ie Shima, just north of Okinawa, Japan, I struggled with doubt and uncertainty. I wanted a personal testimony of the gospel. I wanted to know!
“During one sleepless night, I left my tent and entered a bunker which had been formed by lining up 50-gallon fuel drums filled with sand and placed one on top of the other to form an enclosure. There was no roof, and so I crawled in, looked up at the star-filled sky, and knelt to pray.
“Almost mid-sentence it happened. I could not describe to you what happened if I were determined to do so. It is beyond my power of expression, but it is as clear today as it was that night more than 65 years ago. I knew it to be a very private, very individual manifestation. At last I knew for myself. I knew for a certainty, for it had been given to me. After some time, I crawled from that bunker and walked, or floated, back to my bed. I spent the rest of the night in a feeling of joy and awe.
“Far from thinking I was someone special, I thought that if such a thing came to me, that it could come to anyone. I still believe that.”

Our stake takes charge of providing sacrament meeting at a local care center. One Sunday, while waiting for the meeting to start, I saw an act of kindness I will never forget.
In the few minutes before the meeting, I decided to visit Verna, a resident who didn’t have any family visitors. I approached Verna’s room and noticed her standing in the hallway. Before I could reach her, she latched onto the arm of one of the Aaronic Priesthood boys who happened to be passing by. She looked up into his tanned face and cried, “David, my David, you have come to see me.”
The young man, a stranger, stopped. He didn’t ignore her or give her an awkward pat on the shoulder. He didn’t tell her that he was not her David. Instead, he smiled down at her, gently put his arms around her, held her tightly, and kissed her on the cheek as he would his own mother. While he carefully walked down the hall with his arm still affectionately around her, I heard her exclaim again, “Oh, David, my David.”
Tears sprang to my eyes to witness such a display of unconditional love. I was touched by this young man’s sensitivity and concern. He didn’t know Verna, but he knew her need, her loneliness. His example taught me what it really means to care for another human being.

Not since I left France in 1965 had I personally known another missionary called to serve there, until Sister Marian Ream departed from our ward for Paris in the winter of 1978. I wrote her letters of encouragement, and she responded with postcards telling me of the progress of the mission.
The following summer I was startled to find enclosed with her letter a picture of me and a junior companion taken in Versailles in 1964. Where had she found this picture?
“Dear Gladys,” her letter read, “A strange thing happened last week. We were at the Desmurs home to talk with them and get some copies of the Book of Mormon they had for us. When they found out I had always been a member of the Church, Sister Desmurs stood on a chair in her front room and got this picture down. She pointed to the missionary on the right and asked me if I knew her. I looked for a minute and said, ‘I’m not sure, but I think it’s Sister Farmer who lives in my ward in Provo, Utah.’ The whole family was very excited to think I might have identified this missionary. Sister Desmurs had tears in her eyes. She said it was because of the testimony of this sister that she had joined the Church. She had asked countless missionaries since if they could identify and help locate her.”
Sister Ream went on to describe the family to me. The father, now second counselor in the ward bishopric, had joined the Church several months after his wife’s baptism. The entire family of seven was active and very helpful to the missionaries.

I learned important lessons about life through playing sports, whether I was shooting hoops with a friend or playing on basketball and football teams. One of the lessons I learned was how to make decisions. For example, I grew up loving to play basketball more than football and played college basketball for two years. When I was given the opportunity to participate in college football, I knew I had to commit to one or the other, and I had questions about what I should do.
My parents taught me that when I needed to make a big decision in my life, I should get out a piece of paper and a pencil, draw a line down the middle of the paper, and then write down the pros on one side and the cons on the other. After that, I was taught to call upon Heavenly Father to help inspire my thoughts. I learned to keep writing the pluses and minuses on both sides of the paper about the decision I was making, and to take my time. I found that as I did this with patience, it was amazing to see how the Lord revealed thoughts that were not originally there to help me with the process. Finally, when I made my decision, I went to the Lord again in prayer and took time to just listen, so I could sense if He agreed with my decision.
We don’t always understand what the Lord is revealing at the time that He’s giving us inspired thoughts. If you had asked me before I sought heaven’s help about my decision, and I had been told to stop playing basketball and to start playing college football, I would have thought, “Are you crazy? Why would I do that?” But that was the prompting the Lord gave me. Even though I didn’t know why, I knew by the confirming feeling in my heart that I was doing what the Lord wanted me to do. I had gone through a process that allowed me to have confidence in my choice. That knowledge helped me through some rough times.

I recently learned about the experiences of a man in Zimbabwe named Sabbath Sibanda Maturure. Born in Shurugwe in what he describes as “an ordinary African hut,” he was the seventh of eleven children. Like three of his sisters, he was crippled from birth. At an early age he blamed God for his handicap and refused to attend the Christian church to which his parents were devoted.
When he was seven, he and his sisters were sent far away from home to attend a school for the disabled. Lonely for his mother, whom he could visit only once a year, he became even more bitter. “Life was terrible,” he remembers. “There was just no hope.”
His bitterness grew when his only two friends—his mother and another handicapped child at the school—died. “There really wasn’t anything left for me—not one ray of hope anywhere. Life was completely without meaning. God was totally unfair and not worthy of my worship or respect.”
But after he was befriended by some Christians who urged him to read the Bible, his heart began to soften. As the years passed, he found work, was married, and had two daughters.
In July 1985 a man who “looked honest, humble, and loving” came to his home and introduced himself as Elder Boyd Lake. Elder and Sister Lake, a missionary couple from Oakley, Utah, had met Sabbath’s wife, Susan, at work, and she had asked them to visit her husband. “Anything that is about Christ makes our lives more sweet,” says Sabbath, “so I welcomed Elder and Sister Lake to our home.” Their message sounded so good that the Maturures invited the Lakes to meet all of their friends at the handicapped center where they worked. And Sabbath and Susan began studying the Book of Mormon.
After several visits from the missionaries, Sabbath became ill. But a priesthood blessing helped to restore his health. He was impressed by the power of the priesthood and the teachings about home evening, fast offering, tithing, and chastity. “I also learned about the eternal family, whereby if we believe and are worthy, we can be married in the temple and be sealed forever as husband and wife and family.”
On 2 August 1986, Sabbath was baptized by the branch president, and Elder Lake baptized Susan and one of their daughters. “What joy we received in our home to be in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—a church that the Lord himself restored!” says Sabbath. Three weeks later, a third daughter, Helen Happiness, was born. (The baby was named in honor of Sister Lake, whose first name is Helen.)
For the Maturure family, Elder and Sister Lake were instruments in the hands of the Lord in working a mighty miracle. How could the Lakes have guessed before they left their home in Utah that they would have such a rich experience in faraway Zimbabwe?

My fondest childhood memories are of my family piling into our big gold van and fleeing the flat deserts of Texas toward the mountains and rivers of the West. As we climbed in elevation, my father, a geologist, would point out the window at rock formations and explain how the layers were deposited just so and how the rocks contained a record of past processes that quietly shaped the landscapes in front of my eyes. My mother would take pictures of wildflowers, collect pine cones, and revel in the turning of the seasons.
Their love for nature was contagious, and I fell in love with the world of living things too.
Years later, while serving my mission among the mountains and forests of Alaska, I developed an even deeper respect for the connections between God’s human and nonhuman creations and decided to devote my life to the conservation and study of nature.
Throughout my studies, I’ve been encouraged by principles of earth stewardship taught by prophets, apostles, and other Church leaders. For example:
At the beginning of this dispensation, the Lord told Joseph Smith that He wanted the Saints to be “accountable, as [stewards] over earthly blessings, which I have made and prepared for my creatures” (Doctrine and Covenants 104:13).
President Russell M. Nelson has taught: “As beneficiaries of the divine Creation, what shall we do? We should care for the earth, be wise stewards over it, and preserve it for future generations.”1
In 2019, Sister Sharon Eubank, First Counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency and president of Latter-day Saint Charities, discussed the connection between God’s children and the earth by stating: “Some people will say, ‘Isn’t there something more important to do? Shouldn’t we be caring for the poor versus caring for the earth?’ And my question is, are they not linked so inextricably that we can’t do one without caring for the other?”2
And finally, President M. Russell Ballard, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, spoke these words directly to our generation in March 2020: “I see … your commitment to a more sustainable future for all of God’s children and creatures and the earth. Whether it is environmental, economic, or social, I would hope you will continue to find creative solutions to help protect the future for all of God’s children in our world. We should do whatever we can to protect and preserve the earth, to make life better for those who will live here. We have a divine stewardship, as noted in Doctrine and Covenants 59:16–20.”3
These teachings and many others4 highlight our responsibility to care for God’s creations, both today and for future generations. So how can we as young adult Latter-day Saints respond to these prophetic teachings more fully today? Here are a few ideas to consider.
In the past few decades, nations across the world have been experiencing increases in pollution, deforestation, drought, species extinction, biodiversity loss, and other challenges that are intensifying.5 We need to always keep in mind that God created this earth for us, His children, and it’s our responsibility to care for and protect it (see 1 Nephi 17:36; Doctrine and Covenants 59:20; 103:13).
We can start by learning more about these and other environmental problems that may exist in our communities and countries. As Latter-day Saints, we’re taught to be informed about “things both in heaven and in the earth, and under the earth; … things which are at home, things which are abroad; the wars and the perplexities of the nations, and the judgments which are on the land; and a knowledge also of countries and of kingdoms” (Doctrine and Covenants 88:79). Surely the Lord wants us to care about the issues that affect His creations—both this earth and its inhabitants.
Learning about the role we play in our local ecological communities can also help us discover how our individual actions affect the environment. In our increasingly connected world, people’s individual actions on one continent are now collectively contributing to the environmental effects felt by God’s children in other parts of the world (for example, things like rising sea levels, food shortages, plastic pollution, and invasive species). This relationship with our global neighbors provides a whole new meaning to the commandment to “love [our] neighbour as [ourselves]” (Matthew 22:39).
It’s good to learn about environmental problems, and even better to do something about them. Here are a few practical steps you can take:
Go outside and learn about the plants, animals, and ecosystems around you. Knowledge leads to understanding and respect; use field guides, online resources, or apps to get to know God’s creations more personally.
Choose to walk, skate, cycle, carpool, or use public transportation where available. You can enjoy the outdoors a little bit more while at the same time reducing pollution.
Buy local. This has the double benefit of directly supporting your community and cutting carbon emissions (products grown or made locally don’t need to travel as far).
Plant a garden. There are few food sources more sustainable or personally fulfilling than growing your own!6 As a young adult, you might have limited space, so start small by growing an herb garden or consider joining a community garden.
Reduce, reuse, recycle. Consume less, carry reusable grocery bags and water bottles, and check what materials are recyclable in your city.
Use less water and energy. Things like taking shorter showers, turning off lights, and unplugging appliances when not in use can all add up.
Get involved. You could consider volunteering or supporting reputable environmental groups.
Vote. Take the time to be educated, and vote the way you feel will best affect environmental issues and policies.
Be “anxiously engaged in a good cause” (see Doctrine and Covenants 58:26–29). We’ve been taught the principles—now it’s time to act on them.
You don’t have to feel overwhelmed by this list: to start, choose just one item and put energy behind it. Doing something is better than nothing. In doing these simple acts of environmental service, you may feel that your contribution doesn’t matter, that it won’t make any difference against the magnitude of the world’s ecological issues, but remember that “by small and simple things are great things brought to pass” (Alma 37:6).
In spiritual matters, we don’t stop choosing the right just because the world is growing more wicked! We know that our small acts of kind service won’t stop all the evil in the world, but we continue to perform them anyway, blessing lives in the process. We can have a similar attitude toward the earth and her inhabitants.
Throughout my life, I’ve had the privilege to travel and conduct research in many different countries and landscapes. Despite the drastic differences in species, climate, and human culture that exist on our planet, there is one unifying principle among each of these ecosystems: they are all connected and beautifully alive.
When Christ returns to this earth—a world He created to sustain us physically and spiritually, and one that He commanded us to preserve—I, for one, hope to have done my best to take care of His beautiful creation.

At home Tom Monson came under the influence of parents whose sturdy roots extended into Scandinavia and Great Britain. The father was of Swedish and English descent; the mother, Scottish. They taught him charity and hard work, among other virtues. Because the Terrace was not far from the railroad tracks, transients often knocked at the Monsons’ back door and asked for food. Gladys Monson never turned one away. Moreover, she would invite them into her kitchen to sit at the table while she prepared a sandwich, served with a glass of milk. President Monson also remembers taking plates of hot food his mother had prepared to a lonely neighbor fondly called “Old Bob.” “God bless you, my boy,” Old Bob would say, his eyes often filled with tears. “You have a wonderful mother.” These were not isolated cases of kindness; they illustrated a consistent pattern of charitable conduct. The example was not lost on the growing boy.

One day they asked me to go to Whitland (Carmarthenshire, Wales) as they were short-handed. Ivor, who was in charge, told me to go and tighten up some bolts on a wagon which was in the middle of a long row of wagons. I had to go in between them. Suddenly there was a clashing of the wagons, and something told me that it was the wagons on my line. As I got down flat on the rails, the shunt hit the buffers of the wagon I was working on. The wagons were rolling over me, but I kept cool and thought, “If no one hears me I will catch hold of the second-to-last coupling and be dragged—the steam engine was pushing the wagons and if the engine went over me, I would be dead. Some railway workers heard me and stopped the engine. When I crawled out, they asked me how I was. I said I was fine, but then I became like jelly and shook – this was a delayed reaction to the shock of being so close to being killed.

“Am I too young to have a testimony?” Jamie asked her mother.
“Why do you think you are too young?”
“Because today in Primary, Sister Johnson told us to tell our testimonies to someone who will write them down for us. We’re going to put all our testimonies into a Book of Mormon and send it to a missionary. Then the missionary can give it to someone. I’ve tried and tried, but I can’t think of what to say. Maybe I’m just not old enough to have a testimony yet.”
“Five years old is old enough for a testimony to start growing inside you,” said Mother. “You just haven’t found the way to tell it yet. Think of what you know about the Church and how you feel about it. Try to say what your heart tells you is true,” she said, giving Jamie a little hug. “Let’s ask Dad to talk about testimonies in family home evening tomorrow night.”
Jamie thought about what she could say for the rest of the day. She was supposed to have her testimony ready to give to Sister Johnson the next Sunday. But how can I have it ready if I don’t know what to say? she wondered.
It was Jamie and her sister Susan’s turn to fix the refreshments for family home evening, so on Monday afternoon they made cookies. That evening Father did give a lesson about testimonies. “A testimony is kind of like the bright, sparkling light that shines through the crystals on our chandelier,” he said pointing to the ceiling fixture above them. “It shines and sparkles inside of you. To have a testimony each of us needs to do certain things. We need to pray to Heavenly Father, and we need to study the scriptures. Obeying Heavenly Father’s commandments, attending our meetings, and partaking of the sacrament will also help our testimonies to grow. It’s important to share our testimony with others too.”
After her father shared his testimony with the family, Jamie knew that what her father had said was true. And she knew that she had been doing the right things to gain a testimony.
I want to share my testimony, Jamie thought, but how can I find the words? That night when she said her prayers, she asked, “Heavenly Father, please help me find the right words to say for my testimony.”
The rest of the week, while Jamie was busy playing and helping Mother, she kept thinking about her testimony. But when Sunday morning came, she still didn’t have anything ready to be written down. She gave a big sigh as she got ready for church. “What will I tell Sister Johnson?” she asked Mother.
“Maybe you’ll have to tell her that you’re still trying,” answered Mother. Then she asked, “Would you like to use the testimony that your sister wrote in her Book of Mormon?”
“No,” replied Jamie. “I want it to be my very own.”
Since she was the first one ready for church, Jamie decided to listen to her tape of Primary songs while she waited for the rest of the family. Jamie loved to sing along with the tape. The first song started, and she joined in: “I am a child of God, And he has sent me here …” It was her favorite song, and as she sang it, her heart told her that the words were true. Suddenly she jumped up. “Mother, Mother,” she called, grabbing some paper and a pen and running to her mother. “I know what to say now! Will you write it for me?”
“Of course,” said Mother.
Jamie spoke very clearly. “I am a child of God. So are you. He will help you know what’s true.” She was quiet for a minute, then she said, “Does that sound like a testimony?”
Mother put her arms around Jamie and held her close. “That is a very beautiful testimony,” she told her. “There are so many people in this world who don’t know that they are children of God. They need someone like you to tell them and to help them find the truth.”
At church Jamie hurried to her Primary classroom and was the first one to hand her testimony to Sister Johnson. “Thank you very much,” Sister Johnson said. Then she added, “You look so pretty and full of sunshine today!”
“It’s because of my testimony,” Jamie said excitedly, “shining like a bright crystal!”

One summer morning before World War II, my great-grandfather woke up as he always did—before sunrise. He went outside his house on a hill overlooking a green valley and his village in Romania, and sat on the grass covered by the early morning dew, deeply absorbed in his thoughts—the same thoughts that had been on his mind for a while. An educated man with a big heart and an inquisitive mind, he was loved and respected by everyone in the village.
His village, situated in the land of the ancient river Olt, was the prototype of the eternal image of the Romanian village, in which archaism combines with fairy-like landscapes, a treasure of picturesque customs, and a natural responsibility to care for the objects and traditions one inherits from one’s forefathers and pass them to the next generation.
After the sun arose, he went inside the house and confessed to his wife that he had been curious to see what his funeral would be like, and he wanted to have a dress-rehearsal funeral. He set the date, bought the coffin, hired the priest and professional mourners, and acquired all other items required by the Greek Orthodox tradition. The day of the dress-rehearsal funeral came. The tables were set in the middle of the village for the remembrance feast, the family was all dressed in black, the priest came, my great-grandfather lay down in the coffin, rearranging the pillow so he could have a comfortable view, and the funeral procession began. When the ceremony ended, the whole village was invited to the feast, where my great-grandfather fulfilled his dream of dancing at his own funeral. He lived another 20 years, often checking to see if his coffin still fit him.

The El Centro California Stake hosted a regional Young Adult conference stressing the theme “Ye Shall Find Me.” With the whole desert as a backdrop, the young people got together for some fun on the sandy hills. They enjoyed exploring; playing volleyball, football, and frisbee; as well as trying an impromptu game of golf in one big sand trap.
The group met at the stake center for a series of workshops and a devotional. The workshops stressed such topics as coming to know Christ through service, learning to communicate, teaching children, and learning more about their own potential.
The workshops were followed by an evening of square dancing with the local police chief calling the dance. They feasted on Mexican food and used up their excess energy.
The conference concluded with Relief Society and Priesthood meetings and a testimony meeting in which many of the young adults talked about their testimonies and the importance of the youth programs in their lives.

Sandra, a BYU Relief Society president, told the following story. “I got up one morning and went out to my car. The tire was flat. Luckily it was Saturday and I didn’t have to be anywhere right away, so I called my home teacher and asked him if he could come over and fix it for me. He said sure, and a while later, there he was at my doorstep. I walked out to the parking lot with him, all set to give him moral support and compliments on his chivalry in coming to my rescue. Was I surprised when, upon arriving at my car, he handed me the jack and said, ‘Okay, Sandra, this is your car. You had better learn how to change a tire.’ At the time I wasn’t so sure I agreed with his reasoning, but I did change the tire! And I’m kind of glad now that I know how.”

Question three: How do we teach our children? We teach by example. Our children will learn far more by observing us walk uprightly than any other way. Blair’s parents showed him, by their example, the importance of prayer. He remembers many times as a child walking down the hall to his parents’ bedroom and seeing them kneeling at the side of their bed, holding hands as they prayed to Heavenly Father.

We teach children to walk uprightly a step at a time, over and over again. I know of a mother who has her children repeat this simple yet powerful statement as they leave home: “The gospel is true, I love you, and I am a child of God, no matter what!” The words “Return with honor” written on a sign hung above the doorway of a home are a constant reminder to all who walk through the door how they should return.

Our children respond best when taught with respect and love. In the eighth chapter of Moroni, the prophet Mormon is deeply concerned about a dissension that has arisen among the members of the Church. He has written a letter giving counsel to his son, Moroni, regarding the matter. But before he addresses this problem, Mormon expresses his devotion to his son: “My beloved son, Moroni, I rejoice exceedingly that your Lord Jesus Christ hath … called you to his ministry, and to his holy work.

“I am mindful of you always in my prayers, continually praying unto God the Father in the name of his Holy Child, Jesus, that he, through … grace, will keep you through the endurance of faith on his name to the end” (Moro. 8:2–3). First, Mormon reaffirmed his love for Moroni, and then he taught him. When our children first know they are loved, they are more likely to listen and be taught.

Our children will be more able to survive the challenges that will come to them when they know and understand that keeping God’s commandments can bring them peace and joy in their lives and enable them to walk uprightly. While traveling in the car with her mother and younger sister, five-year-old Clara sensed that her mother was deeply troubled about something. “Mommy, what’s the matter? You seem so sad.”
Not wanting to go into detail about her concerns, but feeling that she needed to acknowledge to her daughter that she was worried, Clara’s mother asked, “Clara, what would you do if you felt sad and frustrated?”
“Well,” responded Clara, and there was a long pause, “you need to take time out and think. Then you need to pray all the time and read the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon. You need to bless other people. Just think about the good things people do for you and the good things in your life, not the bad.” Young Clara is beginning to understand how to walk uprightly before the Lord.

I learned kindness from many people. One of these was my grandmother Amalie Hollenweger Amacher. She joined the Church as a young woman in Switzerland and later immigrated to northern Utah. Although she always spoke with an accent, there was no mistaking her meaning when we grandchildren needed correction. She wanted us to learn to obey and to treat people well, and she wasn’t afraid to tell us so.
Once Grandma caught me speaking disrespectfully to my parents. She let me know that she was not pleased with my tone of voice. I was grateful for the reminder to speak kindly. For years after her death, whenever I was faced with a decision, I asked myself, “What would my grandmother think?” Her love for the Lord and her love for me made me want to follow her example.

What are you going to spend your Chinese New Year money on?
I’m going to buy a new jump rope.
I’m going to buy candy.
I’m going to buy a new bag.
I’m going to save it.
What should I do with my money?
I know what to do with some of my money first!
The next Sunday …
Thanks for your donation, Chung.
You’re welcome!
It feels good to pay my tithing first. I know it makes Heavenly Father happy.
This story took place in Taiwan. Chinese New Year will be on February 1 next year!

The big glass jar had the words “Fill Your Life with Service” on the side. Each week the young women and their leaders from the Titusville Ward in Florida anonymously wrote down the acts of service they had given during the week. The slips of paper were then rolled, taped, and placed in the jar. The young women used yellow paper, and the leaders used green. Plus, on one Mutual night for each of the six months of the project the young women held a service activity.
The first month focused on service to family, week two on friends, and then the priesthood, neighbors, community, and the world. The slips of paper revealed all kinds of service: “I helped my brother with his homework,” “I baked my friend a cake,” “I volunteered at the animal shelter,” “I sent some mail to missionaries from our ward.”
Jessica Crook, a Beehive, said, “I think the activities helped all of us understand more about helping and serving others.” In the end there were more yellow papers than green, so the young women were rewarded with a dinner prepared and served by their leaders.

As a new bishop many years ago, I noticed a faithful sister who always attended church without her husband, John. I learned that he had previously been a branch president during the time their meetinghouse was being built. He received so little help from branch members that he burned himself out doing most of the work and became less active.
When ward members came to their home, he would light up his cigarette and set his beer can by his chair as if to say, “You won’t get me to come back.”
Eventually, I learned that John was an appliance repair man. Older members in the ward often called me to fix things. Now that I knew of John’s skills, I would call John and ask for advice on repairs.
I continued this for maybe a year. At that time, we needed to call a ward clerk. After prayerful consideration, I felt impressed to extend the call to John.
I told the stake president and he said, “We can’t call him now! He smokes and has his beer.” I asked the stake president to call him in for an interview anyway. John came to the interview but emphatically answered, “No, I am not worthy.”
Things continued as before—John remained less active, and I called him for advice. During this time, I didn’t say anything to him about coming back to church. I asked the stake president to interview him a second time. Again, John said no, but this time he added, “I will tell you when I’m ready.”
After this I still called John for advice and fellowshipped him the best I could.
One day I answered the phone and heard, “Is this the ol’ Bishop?” He had started calling me by that title. “This is John. I’m ready.” He was then called and served as our ward clerk.
As the years passed, John served in a number of callings. He and his wife served a mission together, and now they serve in the temple. At my 50th wedding anniversary party, John wrote a note that said, “Bishop, thank you for saving my life.”
I can’t put in words the joy I feel knowing that John returned to church in part because I was patient and asked him for help when I needed it.

A woman in our community with cancer needed an operation but didn’t have enough money for it. Some of her friends sent out flyers reading, “Will you please help save a life?” to ask for donations. When my little brother, Ben, who is six, read one of the flyers, he got all the money he had and put it in an envelope to give to the woman.
I said, “Why don’t you give just part of your money? Then you would still have some for yourself.”
“Which is more important, keeping some of my money or helping to save a life?” he asked. That really impressed me, and I decided to donate some money, too.
My parents kept saying how good Benjamin was because he gave all the money he had. This made me a little jealous of him because, although I didn’t give all the money I had, I donated more money than Ben!
Then I remembered a scripture story about a poor woman who had only a little money. She gave it all to care for the poor. Some rich people came and gave lots of gold. They were proud of how much money they had given to the poor. But Jesus Christ said that the poor woman had given the most because she gave all she had. (See Mark 12:41–44.)
I was sorry for being jealous of my brother. I felt good knowing we could help raise the money for the operation. Most of all, I was glad my little brother helped me learn an important lesson about giving.