Gospel Story Finder

Let’s all learn from my friend Mick. One day he was swimming at a party given by the company for which he was working that summer in Nebraska. He dove into the water and hit a shallow spot very hard. A broken neck was his diagnosis, and his whole body was immediately paralyzed. He even lost the capacity to breathe. The doctor said, “He may not make it through the night.”
He had earned a B.A. degree in political science after serving a mission in Japan. At the time of this tragic accident he had just one year left in law school at BYU. He was married and had two children. This tragic accident changed his whole life, as if from day to night. He wasn’t sure whether he would make it until the next day. It was inconceivable, the emotional and physical pain that he must go through as a quadriplegic.
Even though he was in this condition in the University of Utah Medical Center, he was determined to graduate from law school. It was an almost impossible task, but good friends, true Samaritans, brought him notes and taped lectures from Provo. Oh, God bless these true Christians. He turned pages by a mouthstick, and if his book flipped shut, he waited for a long time until someone came to help him.
Finally, he graduated from law school, passed the Utah bar exam, and became a licensed attorney. While he was studying, exercising, and maintaining doctor’s contact to gain strength, his wife took his two sons and divorced him. This was the most “sorrowful and very heavy” period of his life. (Matt. 26:37.) But he never complained and even blessed the leaving loved ones. In his heart he prayed, “Thy will be done, O Lord!” (Matt. 26:42.) It was his own Garden of Gethsemane, and he took his own cup and drank it as his blessing.
My friend Mick met a most beautiful lady, Cheryl. They married and now the greatest joy has come to their lives. His wife is expecting a baby. It is a miracle. The Lord said, “I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless.” Last Friday, they were sealed in the temple for time and for all eternity. It was my privilege to perform the ceremony for this beautiful couple.
His stake president, President Banks, described him as “a most humble person with strong faith,” and his secretary said of him, “Time has always been important to him. A span of a few brief seconds means the difference. He has no wasted time. He has accomplished more than ever.”

Following Joseph’s death, Jane lived with President Brigham Young’s family until the Saints fled Nauvoo. During that time, she met and married Isaac James, another free Black, who was also a member of the Church.

After the Saints left Nauvoo in 1846, Jane gave birth to a son, Silas, at Winter Quarters. When the first pioneers left Winter Quarters in 1847, the James family were in the lead company of the main encampment.

Jane’s family struggled during their first years in the Salt Lake Valley, and though they lacked even the most basic necessities, Jane shared what little she did have with her neighbors. When Brother Lyman, a neighbor, received a call to serve a mission in California, he left his family with few provisions. His wife, Eliza Partridge Lyman, wrote, “Jane James let me have two pounds of flour, it being half of what she had.”
Jane worked hard to provide for her family, spinning and weaving cloth, making her own soap, and raising a large garden. She also worked as a laundress to earn much needed cash. Just as it seemed the family was starting to prosper, Jane’s husband left them. Twenty years later, he returned and made his peace with Jane and the Church. Jane held his funeral in her home when he died in 1891.
Despite her meager earnings, Jane James donated to the building funds of the Logan, St. George, and Manti temples, as well as to the Lamanite Mission. When asked how she managed to care for her family and still contribute to the building of the kingdom, she replied, “I pay my tithes and offerings, keep the Word of Wisdom, go to bed early, and rise early. I try in my feeble way to set a good example to all.”
Jane died in 1908. President Joseph F. Smith and other General Authorities spoke at her funeral, praising her unwavering faith and commitment to the gospel.

President David O. McKay (1873–1970) was the ninth president of the Church. In his boyhood he desired to know, as Joseph Smith had known, of the reality of God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. One day while herding cattle in the foothills near his home, he sought a testimony through prayer. He said:
“I dismounted, threw my reins over my horse’s head, and there under a serviceberry bush I prayed that God would declare to me the truth of his revelation to Joseph Smith.”
He prayed fervently and sincerely with as much faith as he could find within him. When he finished his prayer, he waited for an answer. Nothing seemed to happen. Disappointed, he rode slowly on, saying to himself at the time, “No spiritual manifestation has come to me. If I am true to myself, I must say I am just the same ‘old boy’ that I was before I prayed” (New Era, Jan. 1972, 56).
A direct answer to this prayer was many years in coming. While serving a mission in Scotland, Elder McKay received a powerful spiritual manifestation. He later commented, “Never before had I experienced such an emotion. … It was a manifestation for which as a doubting youth I had secretly prayed most earnestly on hillside and in meadow. It was an assurance to me that sincere prayer is answered ‘sometime, somewhere.’” (David O. McKay, 50).

Eleven years passed. I had just graduated from the medical university in Yerevan, the capital of Armenia, where I was a medical resident in ophthalmology. While doing some volunteer work, I met two Latter-day Saint missionaries and we became good friends. They were welcomed in our home just as anyone else, but as soon as they started to talk about God, the whole atmosphere became tense. My parents told me that missionaries “teaching their religion” were not welcome in our home. Personally, I was not interested in religion, but I had not stopped them because there was something different in the eyes of those missionaries—something so innocent, pure, and magnificent. I was very interested in finding the source of the light I noticed in their eyes.
After my parents expressed their disapproval, I avoided meeting with the missionaries and finally arranged to meet them at their church building but just to say I was too busy to proceed with our discussions. Arriving at our appointment one hour early, I entered a room with lots of chairs and about 15 people in it. As I sat quietly, trying not to disturb anyone, I was astonished by the unusual but unbelievably familiar feelings. I felt just like I had when I was five years old and could run home, hug my mom, and tell her all that I had done—certain that she loved me, that she would always be there for me, and that everything was all right. After the long years of wandering in spirit, I knew I was home.
That night for the first time in my life, I knelt and prayed to God. If there was a Heavenly Father, I wanted Him to answer me, to tell me if the things the missionaries taught were true, to show me why I felt so different. It is hard to describe what happened next. I had never before felt the presence of my Heavenly Father so tangibly. I knew He loved me. He knew me. He had always been there. I slept that night knowing with all the strength of my heart that I had found my way home.

Kendra liked her new home. She liked her new bedroom. And she liked her new Primary.
She liked everything about her new house except for one thing. She missed living near her grandma. Visiting Grandma didn’t happen very often now.
One day after lunch, Mommy brought in the mail.
Here’s a letter for you, Kendra.
Who sent me a letter?
She had never received a letter before.
It’s from your grandma. Let’s sit down and I’ll help you read it.
Dear Kendra,You are a good big sister to your baby brother. I love you very much, and I miss you. Remember that there is someone else who loves you and always watches over you.Love, Grandma
Grandma’s talking about Heavenly Father!
That’s right, Heavenly Father loves you.
I want to write a letter to Grandma.
Mommy found a piece of paper and a pencil. Kendra sat at the table and did her very best printing. Mommy helped her spell the words.
Dear Grandma,Thank you for the letter. I miss you too. I know Heavenly Father is watching over you.Love, Kendra
Kendra put the letter into an envelope and licked the flap. Mommy helped her write Grandma’s address on the envelope. Then Kendra put a stamp on it and put it in the mailbox.
I’m glad Grandma loves me even though we live far away now.
Grandma will always love you, no matter how far away you are.
Just like Heavenly Father will always love me!
Kendra felt warm and happy.

I was raised in a nondenominational church and learned a lot of misinformation about the LDS Church. Believing what I was told, I was convinced that Latter-day Saints were wrong. I often told my school buddies that they shouldn’t listen to the Mormons. I even convinced some of my friends who had an interest in the Church not to listen. I spent six years of my life as an enemy to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
I often had the opportunity to discuss religion with the Bulleighs. From them, I learned that Mormons believe in Christ. Point by point, and precept by precept, I began to see that the teachings of the gospel made sense. How could God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit be the same person? Are we saved by faith alone or is there more? What must I do to live with God? Questions such as these and many more began to prick at my heart as I considered the things the Bulleigh family taught me.
My LDS friends invited me, at age 16, to attend a youth conference held at a Church-owned ranch in northern Oklahoma. The Church leaders asked all the youth to read 3 Nephi in preparation for the youth conference. I decided I would read it. I remember reading the last page of 3 Nephi and then going to the Bible to read. I picked up where I had left off in Acts 9. I remember the words of the Savior as he chastised Paul (Saul). “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? And he said, who art thou, Lord? And the Lord said, I am Jesus whom thou persecutest: it is hard for thee to kick against the pricks” (Acts 9:4–5).
I had persecuted the Lord as Paul had. I had kicked against the pricks of the Holy Spirit for nearly seven years. I decided at that moment that I would join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I went to the youth conference. Near the end, a time was allotted for testimonies. I stood in front of more than 1,000 people and bore testimony of this gospel and of this Church. In front of the very people whom I had persecuted for nearly seven years, I expressed my desire to join the Church.

My angel mother, Jasmine Bennion Arnold, clearly understood her role to help in the rescue of our Heavenly Father’s wounded or lost sheep, including her own children and grandchildren. What a marvelous role grandparents can play in the lives of their grandchildren.

Mom was usually assigned to visit teach those struggling with their faith, the less-active and part-member families; however, her flock included several others that no one had assigned her to visit. Generally her visits were not just once a month, as she quietly listened, ministered to the sick, and gave loving encouragement. The last several months of Mom’s life, she was homebound, so she spent hours writing them letters, expressing her love, bearing her testimony, and lifting those who came to visit.

“Choo, choo. Here comes the train!” Luke drove the big black train across the floor and put it in the matching spot on the puzzle board.
“Vroom. This car goes fast!” James raced the police car to the puzzle board.
“Beep, beep. Watch out for the school bus!” Luke said.
James picked up an airplane and flew it toward the puzzle board. “Incoming!”
Uh-oh. Only one puzzle piece was left. What could Luke do?
Luke picked up the fire truck and held it out to James. “Let’s do the fire truck together,” he said. Luke and James made siren sounds as they finished the puzzle together.

The last experience I’d like to share came when I passed the bar exam. A salty old trial lawyer approached me and said, “Bob, you can’t be a successful, effective trial lawyer and an active member of the LDS Church at the same time.” I considered others who were successful in their law practices and active in the Church, and I determined to be active in the Church. My decision didn’t affect my success as a trial lawyer. In fact, it enhanced it because I had balance in my life. I was trying to do what the Lord had asked me to do, and He gave me additional strength, understanding, and help.

Elder John Taylor was called as a missionary to England. He left his family in Iowa and traveled with Elder Wilford Woodruff.
John’s wife: Please, John, find my brother and teach him the gospel! We will miss you!
When he and the other missionaries arrived in England, Elder Taylor went to the home of his wife’s brother, George Cannon, in Liverpool. George’s wife, Ann, answered the door.
John: Hello, I am John Taylor, the husband of George’s sister, Leonora.
Ann: Welcome to our home, John. George isn’t home now, but he will be later this evening.
John: I would like to return to visit with George and the rest of your family.
Ann: George, there goes a man of God. He is come to bring salvation to your father’s house.
Elder Taylor returned to their home and taught the entire family the gospel.
George: John, welcome!
John: Thank you. I have a message of the restored Church of Jesus Christ to share with you and your family.
Elder Taylor soon had to leave for a different city, but the Cannon family continued to study the gospel. George could not put the Book of Mormon down.
Later, Elder Taylor returned to Liverpool and finished teaching them.
John: This book is the work of God, for no wicked man could write such a book as this. And no good man could write it unless it was true and he was commanded of God to do so.
George and Ann Cannon were baptized a month from the day of John’s first visit. A few months later, three of the Cannon children were baptized, too.
The Cannon family immigrated to America. Their oldest son, George Q. Cannon, later became an Apostle and was a counselor to four Presidents of the Church.

One night as I was watching the news, something caught my attention. I recognized the reporter as a college classmate. She had achieved her dream of being a newscaster!
“What about me?” I asked myself. “What have I achieved?” I looked at the baby asleep in my arms and thought about the events of the past three years.
I had always thought I would have a career, but when my husband, Charles, and I had our first daughter, Chevy, my priorities changed. I quit my job to care for her. We had faith in Jesus Christ that as long as we paid our tithing and obeyed the commandments, everything would be OK.
Things were going smoothly until, one day, Charles was laid off from his job. We had faith we’d be all right, but we knew we needed to act. We decided I should get a job too, so Charles and I started job hunting. After a few weeks, I was hired at a call center. I hated leaving my nine-month-old with a babysitter every day, but it was our best solution.
Just a month into my job, I found out I was expecting. Fortunately, Charles soon found a job. It didn’t pay much, but it would help. For a while we felt relieved.
My pregnancy became very difficult, and I had to quit my job. At my monthly checkup, we were shocked to discover I was having twins. Charles and I were scared, but we trusted Heavenly Father.
About three and a half months into my pregnancy, I woke up bleeding. I thought I was having a miscarriage, so I went to the hospital. The babies were OK, but the doctor put me on bed rest for the rest of the pregnancy.
Things were becoming so complicated. The hospital bills left our bank account empty, and Charles’s meager income was not enough to provide for our needs. I felt worthless. I could not help earn income or take care of Chevy. I sometimes forgot that I was carrying two special spirit children. I pleaded every day and night with my Heavenly Father for relief. I was terrified of what else could go wrong. But one thought kept returning to my mind: Heavenly Father lives and He knows our needs.
Charles was struggling too, but he stayed strong. He assisted me and cared for Chevy on top of his job. His priesthood blessings comforted me, and his love strengthened me. We were scared, but we faced this new test together.
I did my best to accept the situation. Instead of moping around, I read the scriptures, Church magazines, and good books. I sang hymns too—“How Firm a Foundation” (Hymns, no. 85) in particular made a huge difference. I came closer to my Savior. I realized how much I did have to be thankful for despite our circumstances.
As days went by, we felt God’s hand work in our lives. Big and little miracles popped up everywhere. Our families and friends paid for some of our expenses. I felt their love and concern for our family. The Relief Society presidency assigned one or two sisters to visit me each day. They brought groceries, cooked and cleaned, took care of Chevy, shared spiritual thoughts, and cheered me up. They prayed for my recovery and the continued safety of the twins. We never went hungry. These sisters didn’t know how much their service helped me carry my burden. When the time came, Heavenly Father made my delivery very easy, and both girls were healthy.
Years have passed since that challenging time in our lives, but there hasn’t been a day when we haven’t felt God’s love. Our financial situation is much better now, and our children are growing up to be smart and talented. We are stronger and better prepared for future challenges because we know that Heavenly Father blesses His children in His own time and will never leave them helpless or comfortless. Life is not an easy journey, but God will always be with us and guide us.

16-year-old Spencer Liriano Navarro, a priest in the Santo Domingo Dominican Republic Stake, loves to draw. Recently a book he illustrated, I Am Safe, was published.
When Spencer was about a year old, his parents encouraged him to draw during sacrament meeting so he would not make a fuss. Then, when he was 4 or 5 years old, his parents put paper on some of the walls in their home for him to draw on, since he drew all the time.
Spencer drew pictures for family members as well. One day, an editor of a publishing company visited Spencer’s aunt and uncle’s home and saw a drawing that Spencer had given them hanging on the wall. The editor asked for Spencer’s contact information, then called him and asked him to make a portfolio to present to authors when they were looking for illustrators. This led to him being selected to illustrate I Am Safe.
Spencer is grateful for this opportunity. He said, “I feel that if I am part of an artistic project, like this one to illustrate children’s books, I am contributing in my unique way. Children who see my illustrations feel part of the book, and they can have significant changes in their lives. For example, the book I Am Safe helps children know that when they feel dark thoughts come to their mind, such as fear, anger or sadness, they can feel safe. In a way, by expressing Mrs. Randa Canter’s ideas in an image, I help these children feel safe.
After he successfully graduates from high school, Spencer plans to serve a mission and then enroll at BYU-Idaho majoring in graphic design or illustration so he can continue to work doing what he likes most—drawing. He also wants to serve the Lord in whatever callings he receives.
Many times, teachers and friends told Spencer that he would not get very far drawing, but he knew that his talent was a gift from God and that he should not hide it. He continued drawing with the support of his family. Spencer said, “When I draw, I really like listening to music. I am a rock fan and a donut fan too. My favorite superhero is Spiderman, and when I saw him on television, I wanted to draw him. That’s how I began to develop my talent.”
When asked what advice he would give to a young person, Spencer said, “If you have a dream, never give up. Because I know that God is there with you to help you in everything you need. If you obey the commandments and are faithful, you can become as great as you want.”

When James R. Heap accepted his mission call, he was well aware of the years of college, medical school, and residency lying ahead. Still, he wasn’t worried that a mission break would hinder him professionally. Upon returning home he quickly made up for “lost” time. After three years of college he was accepted to medical school—the first year of medical school was applied to his graduation requirements—and he became a doctor of medicine at the age of 26, the same age as many others who had gone straight through. (Incidentally, he was serving in the branch presidency of a student branch at the time.) He then took a three-year residency at Scott Air Force Base Medical Center in Illinois and is presently established as a family practice specialist in Phoenix, Arizona.
During those years of internship and residency, he continued his Church service, fulfilling many responsible callings, among them executive secretary, Sunday School teacher, and high councilor.
Dr. Heap feels that his mission contributed in a large way to his success as a physician. When he returned to college, he found that his capacity for learning, and the speed with which he did it, were increased. More importantly, devoting his time and talents to full-time missionary work brought about an increased love and concern for others. “Intelligence alone is not enough,” he maintains. “Intelligence plus a Christlike love for mankind is the perfect combination for a successful and respected physician.”
In addition to his present responsibilities as husband, father of five, and physician, Dr. Heap still finds time to serve as the ward music chairman, ward organist and choir accompanist, family relations teacher, and temple preparation seminar teacher. He has done more, at the relatively young age of 30, than many do in a lifetime.
How does he manage it, one might wonder.
“The more I give, the more I’m blessed and the more I’m able to do effectively,” he answers. “Happiness has come into my life through service to my God, my family, and my fellowmen.”

As a college student, Daeyoon returned home to Chinhae for a visit and met a former high school friend who used to ridicule him for not drinking. “Do you still go to church now that you are a university student?” the friend asked.
“Yes,” Daeyoon replied. “I intend to do so all my life.”
“I just can’t understand it,” the friend exclaimed. “How can you have fun when you are bound by so many restrictions? I could never live like that. I want to be free!”
At home, Brother Kim pondered the fact that as soon as they had met, his friend had asked him something about the Church. When they met for lunch the next day, Daeyoon said, “I don’t want to push you in any way, but I think you might find it fun to meet with the missionaries from my church. It will be a new experience for you.”
To Daeyoon’s delight, his schoolmate replied, “Why not? I’ve got nothing better to do right now.” So he began receiving the missionary lessons. His life-style changed with each lesson. He stopped smoking and drinking, he prayed with real intent, and he avidly read the Book of Mormon. By the fourth discussion, he was so excited that he invited his sister to join in the discussions. Before long, he, his three sisters, and his father were baptized. A year later, this schoolmate was serving in the Korea Taejon Mission, where he became an assistant to the mission president—all before Brother Kim had received his own mission call.
During this same time period, Daeyoon was also instrumental in the conversion of seven of his college friends.

Gift on the doorstep. I remember the first Christmas my family had when we moved to Australia. I was only seven or eight years old. When we woke up Christmas morning, we were delighted by the gifts our parents had brought with them to Australia. But we were in for a greater surprise. Outside our house on that Christmas morning was a sack of goodies! To this day we don’t know who brought it, and although I don’t remember every gift in the sack, I will always remember the feelings of peace and happiness that washed over me and my family. The sweet sack of goodies taught me a precious lesson—anonymous service brings joy to our souls.Elder Vasu Nephi Chetty, New York New York South Mission

Indeed, our Heavenly Father has a special love for each person who makes the covenant with Him in the waters of baptism. That divine love deepens as additional covenants are made in the house of the Lord and are faithfully kept.
Nathalie and I experienced this divine love during a very difficult time in our lives as husband and wife and eternal companions. We have been blessed with 10 children. When I mention this, many younger people ask, “How?” And I respond, “This is simply how it is.”
We experienced the death of four of our children at the beginning of our marriage. After the passing of three of our children, Nathalie and I wondered and asked ourselves so many questions, like the Prophet Joseph Smith in Liberty Jail: “Heavenly Father, where art Thou? Do You hear our cries and prayers?”
We soon learned that this was not the end of our trials when Allan Mutombo, our nine-month-old baby, passed away. I found him in his crib. Holding his body in my arms, I cried that day, begging for a miracle. However, as you know, God’s plan for us is perfect, and that day He decided to take Allan back to Him. My prayers did not change His mind and will.
To add to this challenge, after the funeral, our extended families gathered and decided, without consulting us, that tradition required Nathalie and me to separate, and they asked me to take my wife’s belongings outside the house because we had lost many children.
I went into the house and prayed, asking for strength to face this adversity. The words of the wonderful hymn, written by Emma Lou Thayne, came to my mind: “Where can I turn for peace?”
I also remembered the words of our temple sealing and the promises we made to God and to each other. I felt great peace and reassurance that Nathalie and I are a daughter and a son of a loving and caring Heavenly Father.
I felt the Savior’s love and His hand lifting me up.
I came out with empty hands and told the people who were there, “I’m sorry, but Nathalie is my eternal companion. We are striving together to build an eternal family, and the Savior is helping us achieve it.”
They opposed my decision, but exercising my faith in Jesus Christ made me stronger.
The miracle Nathalie and I prayed for happened after we stood for the truth and the light that is in Jesus the Christ. We received a strong confirmation that Christ works miracles according to our faith in Him. Sometimes things do not work out in mortality as we hope, and sometimes we need the faith in Jesus Christ that all will work out in the end.

Sometimes Janick’s enthusiasm for life carries him away. One day his mother, Esther, called his father at his office, which is near their home. She was having a hard time getting Janick to settle down; she asked her husband to come home and talk to him. His father came home. He told Janick that he needed to learn to help his mother in preparation for the day when he would hold the priesthood. “He really listened seriously to me,” his father said. “He behaved much better. He knew that we expected something of him.”

Young Louisa tugged open the heavy door of the huge brick oven. She peered into the darkness, then jumped back in horror. Someone was crouching inside and staring back at her. Quickly her mother came to Louisa’s side and explained that it was a runaway slave that she had hidden in the oven until he could escape to freedom. Louisa understood and knew that she should tell no one about the black man whom she’d discovered. She was accustomed to having people seek help from her parents. Louisa never forgot her parents’ example of concern for others.

“Look at how squished together the houses are!” Richard’s younger brother, Michael, said, pointing to a row of matching doors. “Are there any kids my age around here?” he asked.
“I’m sure there are,” Mom said, pulling another box from the car.
“Yeah,” said Richard. “Look at all the toys and bikes in the yards.”
Erika stroked Jewel and tickled her tummy as she carried the purring cat to the front door. “I think Jewel likes it here!” she said.
Richard knew why his family was moving here. It was close to the hospital where Erika was getting treatments.
Even though Erika was older than Richard, she looked smaller and skinnier because of her cancer treatments. The treatments also made her hair fall out. That’s why she always wore a bright yellow hat.
“Almost as sunny as her smile,” Mom sometimes said.
Suddenly Michael yelled from the hill up the street. “A playground! We have a playground!”
“A playground?” Erika started walking up the street, her smile even bigger. “Let’s go see it!”
As they got closer, Richard saw a big sign on the fence: “UNSAFE—DO NOT PLAY.” The swing set was broken, and a few rusty pipes were lying around.
“That’s sad!” Richard said. “I bet there are lots of kids around here who would love a place to play.”
“We could fix it!” Erika said. She sounded excited, like she could already see the way it would look.
“Could we, Mom?” Richard asked.
Mom shrugged. “I don’t know, kids. That would be really difficult.”
Erika looked at the playground. Her smile had faded, but her hat still looked bright and sunny.
Richard turned back to Mom. “Can we try?”
Mom finally gave in. But it would take lots of work.
After they got settled in their new house, Richard and Michael started looking for neighborhood kids to help. Mom called businesses to ask for donations. Before long kids were cleaning up trash and planting flowers. They painted benches with castles, spaceships, and dragons—Erika’s favorite. The whole neighborhood was helping make Erika’s dream come true!
As months went by, Erika got sicker and sicker. But even when she couldn’t help fix things up anymore, she and Jewel came out to cheer the helpers on.
“Remember, we want plenty of ramps for wheelchairs,” she said. “This will be a playground everyone can play on!”
On the day the playground was finally opened, Erika wasn’t there. She had already returned to Heavenly Father. But Richard, Michael, and Mom were there?—along with tons of other kids. There were kids in wheelchairs, kids on crutches, and even kids from other neighborhoods!
A new playground sign said “Erika’s Dream Park.”
Richard sat on a bench covered with paintings of dragons and watched everyone run and jump and swing. He knew Erika was in heaven and that she wasn’t sick anymore. But it was still hard watching all those kids play without her there.
The sun was bright and yellow like Erika’s hat. Richard could feel it warm him from head to toe. He thought maybe he was feeling warm for another reason too. Like maybe the Holy Ghost was telling him that things would be OK. He knew he would see Erika again. And when she was resurrected, her body would be healthy and strong. A smile spread across Richard’s face.
“Come on, Richard!” Michael shouted from the top of the slide.
Richard jumped off the bench and ran into the sunshine to play.

I told the bishop he had the wrong person.
“I do not like other people’s children, I’ve never taught children, and I can’t sing,” I said.
“Sister Taylor,” he replied, “the Lord qualifies whomever He calls. You’ll be great.”
He asked me to think about the calling and let him know the next Sunday whether I would accept it.
“I’m trying to raise a six-year-old, a three-year-old, and a baby,” I said. “I can barely make it through the day with my own children, and now you want to put me with 40 more and have me teach them music?”
He responded, “Pray about it.”
That afternoon I tried to explain to my husband, Mark, why the calling was a bad idea. How could I work in Primary when I couldn’t even be the kind of mother to my own children I wanted to be? A fear had been plaguing me for months that I was failing as a mother.
The week went by in a blur, but my thoughts kept turning to the bishop’s parting words. Finally, Sunday morning in my bedroom, I fell to my knees in prayer. Tears started down my face, but a sweet peace filled my heart. Immediately I knew it was right to accept the calling. As I submitted to the Lord’s will, all the angst fled my heart.
When I entered the Primary room after sacrament meeting, the Primary president introduced me, and the children sang a welcome song. Looking into their hopeful eyes and seeing my six-year-old son beam, I resolved to be the best Primary chorister I could be.
From then on I spent a lot of time learning songs and preparing lessons. I played the Primary songs at home, in the car, and on walks. I researched different teaching methods and devoted hours each week to making posters and developing games.
As I prepared a lesson for singing time one afternoon at the kitchen table, I was humming the song “Scripture Power.” My six-year-old was sitting at the counter eating a sandwich, and my three-year-old was cutting pieces of paper next to me. As I hummed the chorus, suddenly both children burst out:
Scripture power keeps me safe from sin.
Scripture power is the power to win.
Scripture power! Ev’ry day I need
The power that I get each time I read.1
That’s when I knew that the calling was an answer to my prayers. I had been asking the Lord to show me how to be a better mother, and He gave me a calling that would teach me how as I taught music to my children.
I am so grateful for my bishop’s inspiration and his loving words: “Pray about it.”