Gospel Story Finder

Our recent Gong family reunion included a fun talent show, complete with a dad jokes contest.
But this contest was unusual. On one team was Grandpa (me) and two of the grandchildren, ages 12 and 11. On the other team was an artificial intelligence (AI) program prompted by a cousin to tell dad jokes in the style of Gerrit W. Gong. Grandpa Gerrit Gong versus AI Gerrit Gong.
The grandchildren and I went first.
What do you call a dinosaur who crashes his car? Tyrannosaurus Wrecks.
AI Gerrit Gong was instructed—think like Gerrit W. Gong. Talk like him.
AI Gerrit Gong—“Here is a dad joke as if spoken by Gerrit W. Gong, embracing his warm, thoughtful, and uplifting style: Why did the humble tree make people smile? Because it was rooted in love and reached out with branches of kindness. Like that tree, we too can find strength in our roots and joy in extending kindness to others.”
Well, what do you think? That’s why they’re called dad jokes.

During a spiritually low moment in my life as a member of the Church, a particular incident renewed my faith.
I was on a boat in the Philippines, traveling to visit my mother. The boat was filled with passengers, some enjoying the beauty of the blue horizon, others laughing and chatting with friends and acquaintances. I felt alone and lost amid the crowd of people. The anticipation of seeing my mother after a few years of separation was coupled with hesitancy.
I belong to a very religious family. When their daily religious rituals began to seem endless and without meaning, I investigated other churches until I eventually joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Because of the Church’s strong programs, sound doctrines, relevant gospel teachings, and friendly atmosphere, I felt a lot happier than I was before I embraced the gospel. My family, however, was not pleased with my choice.
But then after my baptism, in what I later recognized as a test of faith, I began to doubt, and I gradually lost my firm grasp on the iron rod. I didn’t commit any major sins, but I wasn’t as diligent as I should have been. Then I remembered my mother, a pious, gentle, and understanding woman who, despite the many trials in her life, remained steadfast to her faith. When I had told her of my decision to join another church, she said with a look of sadness, “The religion we belong to is a legacy from our ancestors, but if you think you will be better off with that new church, then go ahead. But make sure you will be true to it and will defend the truth you uphold.”
These thoughts sent a surge of embarrassment through me. How can I face my mother with my now flickering flame of faith? What if she asks me how I am faring with my newfound religion? Will I be able to meet her gaze without blushing?
As I struggled with these questions, I heard the words church and religion. A man, probably in his mid-40s, seemed to be forcing some tenets of his church onto an uninterested lady sitting next to me. Sensing her discomfort, I tried to help.
Looking straight into his eyes, I asked, “What church do you belong to?” For a split second, his eyes glowed with excitement and pleasure, as if to say, “Here’s a soul willing to open her ears to my preaching.” He sprang to his feet and moved close to me. He introduced himself as a minister. I recognized the name of his church; it is well known for religious debates.
An alarmed feeling crept into my heart, but I tried not to show it. I thought, Not now when I’m losing my spiritual equilibrium. How am I supposed to defend my faith when mists of doubt lurk in my mind? A quick glance at the lady I had rescued made me secretly wish I had not intruded. But she met my gaze with a reassuring look, encouraging me to defend my beliefs. I gathered courage and prayed silently and earnestly for assistance in this unexpected confrontation.
A feeling of confidence enveloped my whole being. I told him, “I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” Without giving me a chance to say more, he interrupted, “I know all about your church and your founder.” He went on to make offensive remarks about the Prophet Joseph Smith, the gold plates, and the Book of Mormon. He said they were all fallacies.
What I felt next surprised me. I felt a strong desire to defend my religion. But hadn’t I been drifting slowly from the Church?
What surprised me most were the firm declarations that came from my mouth, attesting to the truthfulness and reality of the Prophet Joseph Smith, the First Vision, and the Book of Mormon. I added that people’s negative opinions of Joseph Smith would not change my testimony that he was chosen by God to restore His Church in this last dispensation.
I could hardly believe how confidently those truths flowed from my lips. At that moment I knew with a surety that the Spirit was there to testify in my trial of faith.
With renewed faith, I remembered the statement in Ether 12:6: “Ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith.” I offered a silent prayer of gratitude to my Heavenly Father as that verse sank into my heart. Peace filled me, and I realized I was ready to face my mother and to share with her the blessings of joy and peace that the gospel brings into my life.

During recess, my friends asked me to swear. It was hard to say no because they’re my friends, and I wondered if they would tease me. But I still said no because I knew it wasn’t right. When I was eight, I was baptized, and I made promises to Heavenly Father to be obedient. When we obey the commandments, we are following Jesus. I know next time it will be easier to choose the right because I’ve done the right thing already.
Jayden B., age 8, Queensland, Australia

Shelley and I began buying basic foods for our home storage in January 1977 and continued to purchase bit by bit until we were married in April of that year. Prior to our wedding, we stored the food at my parents’ home.
Shelley wore the leather band as a wedding ring for a long time while I finished undergraduate studies and then dental school. Over the course of pursuing education, our family moved many times. We became accustomed to lugging buckets of wheat from apartment to apartment, house to house, and city to city. Our friends started to avoid us every time we moved, but in later years, we felt profound gratitude for having followed the counsel of Church leaders.
When I graduated from dental school and began a dental practice, Shelley and I had two children and literally no funds. Gratefully, we were able to live on part of what we had acquired in food storage just before our marriage. Our obedience to prophetic counsel blessed our lives again more than a decade after we were married, when I had completed more schooling and was in an orthodontic residency. We were again out of money, and instead of paying for groceries with credit cards or borrowed funds, we were blessed to be able to feed our family (which now included four children) from our supply.

Kaemin and Ikani (“Kolby”) already knew a lot about prophets. But visiting the North Visitors’ Center on Temple Square helped them see in a new way how prophets testify of Jesus Christ.
That day Kolby and Kaemin got to see life-size replicas of prophets from the scriptures. They learned that even though prophets live at different times, all prophets testify that Jesus Christ is our Savior and the Son of God.
After learning what prophets taught of Christ, Kolby and Kaemin walked up a spiral ramp to the top of the visitors’ center. There they saw a large statue of Jesus called the Christus. They listened to a recording of Jesus’s teachings. The things that the prophets taught about Jesus are the same things Jesus taught about Himself.

“Only six days until my baptism!” Happiness said. The day was almost here!
“Are you ready?” asked Dad.
“I think so,” said Happiness.
“When you are baptized, you make a covenant,” Dad said. “Do you remember what that means?”
“It’s a promise, right?”
Dad nodded. “Yes! You promise to follow Jesus Christ and keep the commandments. Heavenly Father promises to bless and help you.”
Happiness smiled. He knew it was an important promise. He was excited to make it!
At last the day of his baptism came. Happiness changed into white clothes. Two other kids were getting baptized too. They all watched as the water filled the baptism font.
When it was his turn, Happiness and Dad stepped into the font. Dad said the baptism prayer. Then Happiness plugged his nose, and Dad lowered him all the way under the water.
When he came back up, Happiness felt so good inside! He wanted to keep his promise to follow Jesus. He wanted to feel this clean and happy forever. He never wanted to make a wrong choice again.
A few days later, Happiness woke up and turned on the water heater so he could take a bath. It took a long time for the water to heat up. So Happiness turned on the TV. He wanted to watch cartoons while he waited.
Happiness laughed as he watched the talking animals on the screen. This show was so funny! Soon he forgot all about the water heater.
An hour later, Dad walked into the room. “How long has the water heater been on?” he asked.
Happiness looked up. He had watched TV much longer than he meant to!
“Not very long,” Happiness said. “Just a few minutes.” He turned off the TV and ran to take his bath.
But for the rest of the day, Happiness felt bad inside. After his baptism he wanted to never make a wrong choice. But he had just lied to Dad!
Happiness sighed. He knew what he had to do.
“Hey, Dad,” Happiness said. “I told a lie. I left the water heater on for a long time, but I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK. Thanks for telling me,” said Dad.
“I feel really bad because I broke my baptism promise,” Happiness said.
Dad sat down with Happiness on the couch. “When you were baptized, you didn’t promise to be perfect. You promised to try hard to follow Jesus.”
Happiness nodded. That made him feel a little better.
“And do you know what you can do when you make a wrong choice?” Dad asked.
“Repent?” said Happiness.
“That’s right! When we repent, Heavenly Father forgives us. Then we can be just as clean as we were the day we were baptized. Repenting is part of keeping your baptism promise.”
Happiness grinned. “I’m going to pray and ask Heavenly Father to forgive me.” He was glad he could keep his baptism promise.
Illustrations by Macky Pamintuan

By the time I was 30 years old, my life was falling apart. I had a drinking problem and didn’t know what to do about it. One Monday morning the editor in chief at the publication where I worked as a journalist called me in. He was blunt. I had to quit drinking if I wanted to keep my job.
I went out that day in search of news stories with his warning on my mind. Suddenly, right in the middle of the street, two missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints spoke to me. I had never heard of that church. I avoided a long conversation with them, but I did give them my business card.
Two days later I was at my mother’s house when she said, “Two young Americans are here to see you.” I replied, “I don’t have any American friends.” She said, “They say they’re missionaries.” I said, “Well, have them come in. I’ll talk with them.” To my surprise, they were the missionaries I had met on Monday. They found me through my business card.
Once we were sitting across from each other in the living room, I decided to listen to their message. One of them took out a pamphlet and said that it contained the testimony of Joseph Smith. He gave it to me and challenged me to read it. I had barely finished accepting his challenge when the other missionary took out a book with a blue cover. He asked me, “Would you read the first 150 pages of this book?” I accepted his challenge also. As they left the house they said, “We’ll be back on Friday to see if you’ve met your goals.” This is how I started to learn the gospel.
After I had received all of the discussions, there was another challenge. One of the missionaries said, “Brother Rosillo, you need to have your own testimony.” The other missionary added, “Ask God if Joseph Smith was a prophet and if the Book of Mormon is true. We promise you that the Lord will answer you. We’ll be back next week.”
The day before the missionaries were to come back, I decided to put the matter to the test. I went to get the Book of Mormon, which I had already finished reading. I went into the living room and knelt down. I was by myself, and everything was quiet. I began, “Father in Heaven, the missionaries have asked me to ask if Joseph Smith was a prophet and if the Book of Mormon is true. They feel I need to have a testimony to be baptized. Was Joseph Smith a prophet? Is the Book of Mormon true?”
I stopped speaking. Immediately I felt indescribable joy. I wanted the feeling to last forever. I had received my answer. When the missionaries arrived, I shared my experience.
On September 11, 1971, I was baptized in the Piura River. Since then nearly 34 years of living gospel principles—including the Word of Wisdom—have passed with many blessings. But I still remember those two missionaries who spoke to me in the street and brought me out of the darkness and into the light.

When I was almost 18, I flew to a small town called Soldotna, Alaska, to work for the summer. This was my first experience living away from home. My parents had arranged for me to work for and live with their good friends the Wrights, who owned the local grocery store. I hoped to earn enough money for college. I also hoped to return home with an answer to a question that repeatedly entered my mind: Is there really a God?
I needed to obtain an answer for myself. So I resolved to pray every night and ask God if He was real. Somehow I felt that if God existed, He would answer my prayer. If I never received an answer, then I would know He didn’t exist. Simple, I thought.
At the Wrights’ home, I shared a bedroom with their daughter Lisa. She was home from Brigham Young University for the summer and worked at the grocery store with me. I admired Lisa from the start. She was beautiful, intelligent, confident, and enthusiastic about life. That summer we spent nearly every hour of every day together.
I loved listening to Lisa tell me about college life. Her life sounded fun and very independent. Lisa had her life organized and balanced, with the right priorities firmly in place.
My admiration for Lisa grew as I observed her reading the scriptures daily and praying each morning and night. I wanted to ask Lisa how she had obtained her faith in God but felt ashamed of my lack of faith. I remember lying in bed, wondering what Lisa talked to God about in her prayers.
Every night I knelt by my bed and said a quick prayer, asking God if He was there. Yet I didn’t feel anything special or spiritual. I did not hear a voice. I felt the same after my prayers as I did before them. This nightly routine went on for two months. Discouraged, I found my doubts in God increasing.
One night, when I was feeling deeply homesick, tears welled in my eyes. I desperately wanted to be near my family, friends, and familiar surroundings. Aching to talk to someone who knew and loved me, I knelt in prayer. “God, I really need You right now,” I began. For the next several minutes, I released my true feelings to my Father in Heaven. I told Him everything. I talked with Him as though I believed He was there.
A warmth wrapped around me. I began to feel as though Heavenly Father had come down and taken me in His arms. I was no longer alone. Love and peace embraced me. I knew there was a God.
I wondered why receiving an answer to my prayer took more than two months. Jeremiah 29:13 gave me the answer: “And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.”
I finally received an answer to my prayer after I dug deep into my heart. I placed faith in God’s existence. I searched high into the heavens with my words and tears.
My life has changed because of that one night. I served a mission and married in the temple. My faith in God’s existence continues to increase.
I often think back to that summer in Alaska. Without Lisa’s example, I might not have persevered through those months of praying. I might have quit and never discovered the love of my Heavenly Father. I will forever be grateful to Lisa and her example. She helped me come to know God and feel His love for me.

After wandering spiritually in her college years, Amanda Freebairn of the United States took the small step of praying, which led her to follow a prompting to visit her local temple grounds. “Feeling the Spirit there rekindled my faith,” she says. Returning to church and accepting a calling to teach Primary deepened her faith, and she kept taking steps that brought her to fully embrace the gospel. Along the way, Amanda observes, “I found answers to the questions I so desperately needed.”

My wife and I were in the front of our yard one day when the newspaper boy came down the street on his bicycle. His bicycle was loaded with papers. About 20 or 30 yards in back of him, there was another boy following him on a bicycle. I was not sure at that time what their relationship was, but I did notice they were coming down the street at a pretty good clip.
When the newspaper boy came to our sidewalk entry, he was traveling too fast to make the approach to our home, and, as a result, he went one way, the bicycle went another way, and the papers went everywhere. Noticing the boy had fallen on the lawn and was not hurt, but realizing that he would undoubtedly be embarrassed from the fall in front of his friend, we moved toward him.
At the sight of this perfect three-point landing, if we may refer to it as that, his companion shouted his pleasure and laughed heartily with complete and full enjoyment at the misfortune of his associate.
Trying to relieve the embarrassment of the paper boy, knowing he didn’t want help but he wanted to have his pride repaired a little, I took a few more steps toward him and said: “It’s kind of a low blow to have your friend laugh when you’ve had a bad spill, isn’t it?”
He went on picking up his papers without even looking up. Finally, he had the papers back in place and got on his bicycle; and as he started out away from our home, he made the remark: “He isn’t my friend—he’s my brother.”

When I was little, I used to ask myself questions like “Does the Holy Spirit speak?” “When I go to heaven, will I see God?”
Now that I’m a bit older, I can look back and see that Heavenly Father always guided me and showed me evidence that He existed, but I wasn’t always able to recognize His hand in my life. I was blessed to be raised in a home with the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, but I lived on a borrowed testimony for a long time. It was difficult for me to believe that God was truly real.
One day, when I was about 15, my bishop announced a ward temple trip. I was already used to going to the temple with my family, so I didn’t think this was a big deal. I never really felt much anyways and didn’t understand the importance of the covenants and ordinances performed in the temple.
When the day arrived, I entered the temple and changed into my white jumpsuit. As I walked past a mirror, I saw a glimpse of myself dressed in white and with a smile on my face. As I waited for the rest of my ward members, I was in awe. I was contemplating the beauty of the baptismal font and the paintings when suddenly, I felt the Spirit gently touch my heart.
I will never forget the words that came to my mind: “Orson, this is the house of the Lord. He loves you. He wants you to change your life and strive to become a better person little by little.”
I felt so much love in those words but was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. I hadn’t taken the temple seriously up until this point. So I said a prayer in my heart, asking Heavenly Father to forgive me.
And I knew He heard my prayer because I felt so much peace in my heart.
That day, I deepened my faith and received the real testimony of the gospel that I longed for. That day, I was able to say as firmly as those two disciples of John: “I have found the Messiah” (see John 1:41).
Ever since this experience, I have striven to better recognize Heavenly Father’s influence in my life by seeking Jesus Christ each day. Although the world can make it hard to hear the Savior’s voice at times, I know now that He truly is real and that He is with me.

Later this month we shall dedicate a beautiful new building on the Brigham Young University campus to the memory of a woman, Caroline Hemenway Harman. You probably have never heard of her. I would like to tell you briefly her story.
At the age of twenty-two Caroline married George Harman. They had seven children, one of whom died in infancy. Then, at the age of thirty-nine, her husband passed away and she was left a widow.
Her sister, Grace, had married her husband’s brother, David. In 1919, during the terrible influenza epidemic, David was seriously stricken, and then his wife, Grace, became ill. Caroline cared for them and their children as well as her own. In the midst of these afflictions, Grace gave birth to a son, and then she died within a few hours. Caroline took the tiny infant to her own home and there nurtured it and saved the child’s life. Three weeks later her own daughter, Annie, passed away.
By now Caroline had lost two of her own children, her husband, and her sister. The strain was too much. She collapsed. She came out of that collapse with a serious case of diabetes. But she did not slow down. She continued to care for her sister’s baby; and her brother-in-law, the child’s father, came each day to see the little boy. David Harman and Caroline were later married, and there were now thirteen children in their home.
Then five years later David suffered a catastrophe that tried to the very depths those who agonized with him. On one occasion he used a strong disinfectant in preparing seed for planting. This got on his body, and the effects were disastrous. The skin and flesh sloughed off his bones. His tongue and teeth dropped out. The caustic solution literally ate him alive.
Caroline nursed him in this terrible illness, and when he died she was left with five of her own and eight of her sister’s children, and a farm of 280 acres where she and the children plowed, sowed, irrigated, and harvested to bring in enough to provide for their needs. At this time she also was Relief Society president, a position she held for eighteen years.
While caring for her large family and in extending the hand of charity to others, she would bake eight loaves of bread a day and wash forty loads of clothes a week. She canned fruits and vegetables by the ton, and cared for a thousand laying hens to provide a little cash. Self-reliance was her standard. Idleness she regarded as sin. She cared for her own and reached out to others in a spirit of kindness that would permit no one of whom she was aware to go hungry, unclothed, or cold.
She later married Eugene Robison, who, not long afterward, suffered a stroke. For five years until his death she nursed him and cared for him in all his needs.
Finally, exhausted, her body racked by the effects of diabetes, she passed away at the age of sixty-seven. The habits of industry and hard work which she instilled in her children rewarded their efforts through the years. Her sister’s tiny baby, whom she nurtured from the hour of his birth, together with his brothers and sisters, all acting out of a sense of love and gratitude, have given to the university a substantial bequest to make possible the beautiful building which will carry her name.

In 1901 he became the first president of the Church born of LDS parents. When John Ruothoff, a young boy from Holland with failing eyesight, discovered that President Smith would be visiting in his country, he said to his mother, “The Prophet has the most power of any missionary on earth. If you will take me with you to the meeting and he will look into my eyes, I believe they will be healed.”
After the meeting President Smith lifted John’s bandages, looked into his eyes, blessed him, and promised him that he would see again. Later at home when the bandages were removed the boy cried out, “Mama, my eyes are well; I cannot feel any more pain. I can see fine now, and far too.”

Because I grew up outside of the Church, the law of chastity was not always something I lived by—it wasn’t something I even knew about. My mom never taught my twin brother or me about keeping any moral standards. We, as well as our younger brother, had been born out of wedlock. Our dad would often move in with a woman the moment they started dating.

As I got older, my conversations with friends were filled with derogatory language. In high school I started dating a guy who also did not live by the standards of the Church, and doing things outside of the law of chastity just felt like a normal “rite of passage” into adulthood.

But when I started taking lessons with the missionaries when I was 18, they taught me about how I should have clean thoughts, good language, and actions that reflected Christ’s teachings. At first, I was crushed. I had been living a life without the law of chastity, and I felt like I was broken—too far gone. It felt like even if I truly repented, I would never be fully forgiven of my sins. I told myself that Christ would continue to hold my mistakes over my head. I was constantly thinking about how I had let Him down—without even knowing it. Not only that, but I also felt as though following the law of chastity wasn’t attainable.

Questions from the adversary flooded my mind, making me second-guess what I was learning about chastity. While taking lessons with the missionaries, I was in a relationship that did not prioritize staying morally clean, and I thought that joining the Church would change the relationship. Maybe The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints wasn’t a good fit for me. I remember thinking, “I have already given up so much. And now this?” It made me question if joining the Church was even worth it.

But I couldn’t deny the truth I had found within the Church. If I knew that Joseph Smith was a prophet, then that meant that the law of chastity must be a true commandment from the Lord. It was a nonnegotiable. I knew that my next challenge would be applying the law to my life and striving each day to be better.

It was not going to be something I could change overnight. There were times when I fell short. I felt like it was a never-ending cycle; I would try my hardest to do better and then I would revert to my old ways. When I had finally reached the point where I was obeying the law of chastity and felt like I could look my Maker in the eyes and say, “I’m trying; I’m doing my best with a willing heart,” I still kept remembering all the times I had “messed up.” I had to remind myself that I knew in my heart that the Lord forgives when we truly repent, which I had. But that didn’t really stop me from still feeling like a disappointment.

Since then I have realized that the Lord will forgive us, but we must learn to forgive ourselves as well. Heavenly Father wants us to recognize our mistakes, repent, strive to do better, and move on. Satan, however, wants us to be chained to our sins. Those feelings of failure were Satan telling me, “You can’t do this. You’re crazy for even thinking you can.” But I know the Lord loves me and wants to see me grow in my faith. He wants that for all of His children.

Now, being a member of the Church for just over a year, I have seen the blessings that come from following the law of chastity. I don’t feel broken and confused anymore. Yes, I still sometimes have moments when Satan tempts me with the temporary satisfaction that comes from immorality, but I’ve learned that true satisfaction can come only through Christ. I know that He blesses us when we follow His commandments.

I’ve also learned that you can never be too far gone to receive the blessings of the gospel. Heavenly Father welcomes us back with open arms. Those doubts I had didn’t come from Christ or Heavenly Father. He gave us the law of chastity to protect us and guide us along on the covenant path. Learning about this law has strengthened my testimony of the Savior’s Atonement immensely. The Lord loves each of us. We may mess up, but we also have the opportunity to learn and grow from our mistakes—to repent. He has not given us this commandment to make life tough; He did it because He loves us.1

I am so grateful for the law of chastity and everything it has taught me. I’ve seen how it has blessed my life, and I know it will bless others too.

During his freshman year of high school Jed began each day standing at the lane a couple of hundred yards from his house waiting for Brenda to pick him up for early-morning seminary. They lived less than a mile apart in the table-top flatness of Nebraska. Not that Jed’s family were farmers. They’d moved there two years earlier. His father worked for the post office. They lived in the farmhouse because it had been foreclosed and the bank was renting it until they could sell the farm.
Jed was barely 14, small for his age. He wore glasses with brown plastic frames, although he planned to get contact lenses as soon as he could save enough money.
Brenda was 16 and tall, with long wheat-blonde hair. She felt most at home in jeans and a T-shirt, working with her father around the farm.
On the first day of school when she pulled into the farmyard, Jed ran out to the old battered pickup she drove and got in. She had the radio set to a country-western station. She put it into first gear and let the clutch out. The pedal stayed down. She grumbled, flung open the door, crawled under the truck, did something and then got back in.
“Linkage,” she said.
He had no idea what she was talking about. “Oh.”
That was all she said for the rest of the drive into town, a distance of 15 miles. It was obvious that because he was so much younger than she was, she didn’t figure they’d ever be friends.
In October Jed and his father were assigned to home teach Brenda’s family. Her father was strong, a man who took all that life dished out to him without ever letting on how bad it was. His face bore the scars of farm life. Not just the hard work, but the financial burdens too. He knew he might lose the farm if things didn’t get better.
As they rode into seminary each morning, Jed became fascinated with watching Brenda. Her beauty was like the plains itself—you could just about talk yourself into thinking Nebraska was drab, but then something would happen between the sun and clouds and land, and suddenly it became the most beautiful place in the world. Brenda was like that too. She used little makeup and never fussed over her appearance, but when the winter sun hit her hair just right on the way home from school, he’d look and think she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.
That was why he began drawing. He wanted to capture the way she looked in sunshine and in shadows. Almost every night he drew her face. He hid the drawings from his parents because he didn’t want to explain to them why he was drawing her. He wasn’t sure himself.
One day in March the pickup broke down on the way to town. Brenda pulled over, got out, and got some tools out. Jed got out and watched her work on the truck, feeling useless. After a few minutes, she’d fixed it and they took off again.
“I wish I could do things as good as you can,” he said.
She shrugged her shoulders. “You’ll learn someday.”
“How old were you when you first learned to drive?” he asked.
“Twelve. My dad needed help bringing in the crop.”
“My parents say I’ll probably have to wait till I’m 16.”
“What for? You’re legal now.”
“I know.”
That afternoon, on the way home from school, after they turned off the highway onto the seldom-traveled county road, she pulled over and stopped. “Switch places with me.”
“Why?”
“You want to learn how to drive or not?”
First she showed him how to shift gears. He tried it but killed the engine. She didn’t seem to mind. After several tries, he finally got it into first and they were moving down the road. She helped him get it into second, and then third, and let him drive a few miles.
He felt great. “Thanks,” he said when they switched back again.
She shrugged her shoulders. “No problem.”
After that she let him drive from the turnoff to the lane near his house. To Jed it meant much more than that he was learning how to drive. It meant he and Brenda were now friends.
That summer turned out to be a disaster for the farmers—too little rain and too many grasshoppers. Brenda’s father had to sell off some of his equipment, including the old pickup Brenda had used for school.
In August Jed’s father bought another car and let Jed get a driver’s license so he could drive to school each day. When school started in the fall, Jed picked Brenda up for seminary.
One day in October when he went out to the school parking lot to go home, he saw Brenda talking to Cory Steadman. Cory was a senior who played on the football team.
“Well, I’d better go to practice,” he said. “I’ll call you tonight, okay?”
“Sure. See you.”
Jed started the car. Brenda got in. “Seems like a nice guy,” Jed said.
She smiled. “He is. I think he’s going to ask me to the Homecoming dance.”
“That’s good.”
“I’ve never gone before. This’ll be my last chance to go to one. He doesn’t drink at all. And he goes to his church a lot.”
“Sure.”
“And there’s no LDS guys I could go with, except you, and you’re too young.”
“I know.”
“So I’ll probably say yes if he asks.”
“Sure.”
“Do you think you’ll go?” she asked.
“Probably not.”
“Why not?”
“Like you said, I’m too young. Besides, I’m saving up for contact lenses. In another month I’ll have enough money to get ’em.”
“I won’t know you without glasses.”
“Once I get contacts, girls’ll probably fall all over me.”
“Sure they will,” she said with a smile. He had never seen her in such a good mood before.
“I wonder how much a formal costs,” she asked.
“I don’t know. Probably not much.”
“I think I’d like a pink one.”
The next morning when Jed picked her up for seminary, he could tell by her smile what had happened. “He asked you to Homecoming, didn’t he?”
“Yeah. Is it okay if we stop by a store after school?”
“Sure.”
“I’ve got some money saved up,” she said. “I should be able to get what I want with that.”
After school they stopped by a store and looked at formals. Jed sat in a chair as Brenda came out wearing a low-cut formal.
“What do you think about this one?”
“Shows too much,” he said, then started to blush.
She looked in the mirror again. “You’re right.”
A while later she came out in another one. “What about this one?”
“I like it.”
“It’s the most expensive one.”
“How much is it?”
She showed him the price tag.
“That much for one dress?” he said.
“There’s another one that isn’t as much. I’ll go try that on.”
At that time he didn’t realize how sensitive he was to color and light and shadow, and how years later he would still be able to recall in detail her image as she tried on each dress.
Finally she picked out a formal and had it put on layaway. She was happy all the way home. When they pulled into her yard, he noticed a car from the bank in front of the house.
The next morning he stopped by for her as usual, but she didn’t come out. He turned off the motor and walked to the door. He knocked for the longest time, and then Brenda’s mother came to the door in a robe.
“Brenda?” her mother called out, “Jed’s here.”
“I’m not going today,” Brenda called out from her bedroom.
“If you stay here, I’ll put you to work, so you might as well go.”
There was a long pause. “All right. Ask him if he can wait.”
“I’ll wait,” Jed called out.
A couple of minutes later Brenda came out tucking her shirt into an old pair of jeans.
“You’re not going to school looking like that, are you?” her mother asked.
“What difference does it make?”
“You listen to me, young lady, you quit going around feeling sorry for yourself.”
As they pulled onto the county road, he asked, “Are you going to buy the formal today?”
“I’m not going to the dance.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a waste of money, that’s why.”
“But yesterday …”
“Why don’t you stay out of other people’s business?”
“Just tell me what happened.”
“The bank’s foreclosing on us. They’re having an auction the day after Homecoming. We’re going to have to move out of town so my dad can get a job. My parents need my money to help tide us over till we get settled.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not like it wasn’t expected.”
“Have you told Cory yet?” he asked.
“Not yet. He’s in Omaha on a field trip. I’ll see him tomorrow.”
Jed spent most of seminary that morning studying her face. He wished he was older, taller, and more self-confident. He wished he could tell her that as far as he could tell, he was in love with her. Or at least if it wasn’t love it was something—he wasn’t sure what. He knew he wanted her to be happy.
In school that morning he couldn’t concentrate. At noon he left school and drove to the department store.
“May I help you?” the saleswoman asked.
“I was here yesterday with a friend. She picked out a formal and put it on layaway. Last night she found out her father’s going to lose his farm. So she won’t be going to the dance.”
“I’m sorry.”
“She’s my best friend. She taught me how to drive. You saw her. Did you notice her face? Don’t you think she’s beautiful?”
The woman was getting restless. “Can you excuse me a minute while I wait on these other folks?”
“Wait, don’t go. I want to buy the formal for my friend. Don’t let anybody else buy it until I come back from the bank.”
Within half an hour, he’d bought the formal. He hung it from a hook in the back seat and drove around town, trying to figure out how he was going to get it to her. He knew she might not accept it if she knew he’d bought it for her.
He went to the post office just as his dad was about to leave for lunch.
“Dad, there’s something I’ve got to show you. It’s in the car.”
That afternoon after school, on the way out of the parking lot, he told Brenda, “On our way home there’s a garage sale I want to go to. Is that okay with you?”
“I guess so.”
He stopped in front of the house where the garage sale was being held. There were several tables of assorted clothing and some old toys and battered books. It was an impromptu garage sale, one which only lasted for an hour, but Brenda didn’t know that.
“You might as well look around,” he said. “I might be a while.”
She was annoyed at the delay, but got out of the car anyway.
He looked through a pile of shirts as slowly as he could while she wandered around looking at things.
“Jed, come here,” she called out.
He went over to where she was.
“Look at this,” she said.
There hanging among some drab clothing hung a pink formal.
“How much is this?” Brenda asked the woman who was having the sale.
“A dollar,” the woman said.
“Only a dollar?”
“If you look closely it’s got a stain on it.”
“I don’t see a stain,” Brenda said. “Where is it?”
The woman showed her a small stain on one tiny segment of the dress. It was barely noticeable.
Brenda pulled Jed aside. “I can’t believe this. It’s just like the formal I saw in the store—for only a dollar. With only the tiniest stain that’ll come out real easy anyway. Jed, loan me a dollar, okay?”
He reached into his pocket and gave her a dollar’s worth of change.
She rushed back to claim the dress. “Here, thanks,” Brenda said.
They got back in the car.
“Jed, I can go to the dance now. I can’t believe it. It’s like an answer to a prayer.”
“That’s great.”
On Friday night Jed walked into the school gym during the dance and stood in the shadows and watched Brenda dance with Cory. They looked good together. Jed had never felt better in his entire life.
The next morning Brenda came to their house and asked for Jed. He got up and got dressed and went into the kitchen where she was waiting for him.
“Hi,” he said.
“You bought that dress and then rigged up a garage sale, didn’t you?”
“Why would I do a thing like that?”
“I don’t know why. At the dance last night, one of the girls told me this guy asked her at the last moment to go with him. She’d looked at my dress and nearly bought it, but decided to go to another store first. When she came back, all set to buy it, they told her they’d just sold it to a guy who was going to give it to a girl so she could go to the dance. You know what I think? I think you used the money you were saving for contact lenses to buy the dress for me.”
“I’m not admitting to anything, so you might as well give up.”
“Well, whoever did it is the nicest guy in the world.”
“Did you have a nice time at the dance?”
“It was wonderful. Talk about extremes. Last night was great, and today is going to be awful. They’re having the auction over at our place right now. I’m feeling pretty bad. Do you think you could stay with me today?”
“Sure.”
They walked over to her place. Vehicles were lined up along the road. They could hear the auctioneer on the P.A. system. They stood on the edge of the crowd and watched for a while. Her parents watched their property being taken away from them one item at a time. It was too painful for Brenda to watch. She asked Jed to walk with her. They went to the one native tree on their property, an old gnarly cottonwood, and climbed it.
“After the auction, we’re going to stay in town tonight, and then tomorrow we’ll go see how Omaha is for getting work. … If you could give me a ride into town after the auction is over, I’ll have some things to take in too, if that’s all right.”
“Sure.”
They stayed away all morning. He took her to his home and they had lunch. He showed her some of the sketches he’d done of her. She said they were good, but he said he could never get her face the way it really was, because it was like trying to paint the clouds. She didn’t understand. He told her how difficult it was to capture the beauty of clouds, because they changed so fast, and each time was more wonderful. She said she didn’t know what he was talking about.
After lunch they went back to her tree and climbed it and waited. When they saw the stream of traffic going past their place, they got his car and then drove to her house. Her parents had left her a note.
He helped haul her things out to the car. When he came inside the last time, she called from her room and told him to go wait outside.
He went out and leaned on his car and waited. She came out, wearing the formal, dressed just like she’d been the night before.
“Jed, dance with me,” she said. She hummed a tune and they danced around the desolate farmyard until her tears came too fast and made her voice so she couldn’t sing anymore. “I’ll never forget you, Jed.”
“I’ll never forget you either.” He wanted to say more, but he was afraid he’d lose control.
That was the last time he saw Brenda. Years later, when he was serving a mission, his parents sent him the wedding announcement she’d sent to the family. He was glad she was getting married in the temple. He sent her a card and a gift.
After his mission, while majoring in art in college, he finally managed to do a portrait of her that did her justice. It was Brenda in her Homecoming dress, standing alone in the desolate yard of an empty farmhouse.

When I was released from the service, I faced a critical decision. My best friend from Normandy and I had planned for a long time to visit the United States, and I had saved my money so I could go. But his plans felt through. I had to decide whether or not to go by myself. I returned to Normandy, to walk the beaches and to think.
Anyone who could have eavesdropped on my mental conversation at that time would have known I already had a testimony. “I am well off here—I have my family and friends, I feel sure of myself, and this is the most beautiful spot on earth,” I told myself. “But what if I don’t go? I could miss an opportunity to learn even more about the gospel, to really gain a testimony of it. I could give up the trip, the dream of my young years. But to give up a chance to know more about the Lord’s church?”
In the U.S. I had the opportunity to develop many close relationships with Church members. I finally began to believe I did have a testimony—I can’t forget the wonderful feelings when, each time I’d ask myself a question, I would feel the Holy Ghost enlightening my soul, clearing away the doubt. I had had difficulty understanding why polygamy had been practiced. On a bus somewhere between Colorado and Utah, I glimpsed the vision, not a visual sight, but a spiritual insight, of the men who practiced it. And I saw how it was possible for such a thing to be pure, that it had come from God. That sort of clarification continued throughout my trip in the United States.
I eventually visited some islands near Seattle, Washington. There, in a small apartment, I studied the Book of Mormon for ten days. My testimony continued to grow. The time had come to return to France, and in my heart I knew I would be baptized.
Several days after I returned home, the missionaries asked me to help them teach a lesson. The investigator was a science student, and he was struggling with some of the same questions I had confronted when I was studying the same subjects. I explained to him how I had found answers to the questions, and when we left he seemed satisfied and happy.
A few days later, the missionaries called to tell me he was joining the Church. “How about that,” I told myself. “Here I am, able to help someone else accept baptism, and not myself. This has lasted long enough!” I felt I had a testimony, but I fasted and prayed. I stayed up the whole night pleading with the Lord to seal this testimony in me. Finally, early in the morning, a sweet, peaceful calm filled my soul. I knew I had to tell the elders I was ready to be baptized.
As I rounded the last corner on my way to see the missionaries, I felt a strong force trying to keep me from going. It was like walking against a 100-kilometer-per-hour wind, which I had done before, only it was stronger. But this was a spiritual “wind,” not physical. I was just about to give up and turn around. I knew this force wanted me to doubt everything, but I finally said, “No, no. I know there’s a God.” I felt that truth deep in the roots of my soul. I knew He would battle this force for me.
I reached the chapel door, just a normal chapel door, but I had to pull with all my might to force it open. When I entered I saw some members and felt their spirit, and the opposing force was gone, broken. I felt the sweet peace in my heart again, and felt it even more strongly several days later as I was baptized and confirmed. I still feel it to this day.

A story is told of a woman who was upset that her son was eating too much candy. No matter how much she told him to stop, he continued to satisfy his sweet tooth. Totally frustrated, she decided to take her son to see a wise man whom he respected.
She approached him and said, “Sir, my son eats too much candy. Would you please tell him to stop eating it?”
He listened carefully then said to her son, “Go home and come back in two weeks.”
She took her son and went home, perplexed why he had not asked the boy to stop eating so much candy.
Two weeks later they returned. The wise man looked directly at the boy and said, “Boy, you should stop eating so much candy. It is not good for your health.”
The boy nodded and promised he would.
The boy’s mother asked, “Why didn’t you tell him that two weeks ago?”
The wise man smiled. “Two weeks ago I was still eating too much candy myself.”

Early in her marriage, Lucy prepared herself to raise a prophet. On one occasion she became seriously ill, and the doctors said she would die. Lucy records that she “made a solemn covenant with God that if He would let me live I would endeavor to serve him according to the best of my abilities.” After a voice assured her that she would live, she told her mother, “The Lord will let me live, if I am faithful to the promise which I made to him, to be a comfort to my mother, my husband, and my children.”3

When I was a young boy, I took church attendance seriously and always said in my heart that I will go to a church that bears Christ’s name, so I was happy to attend a church that had “Christ” in its name. One day at school, one of my friends came to me and said: “Rich Boy, I want to invite you to my church on Sunday.” I asked him why he wanted me to go to his church and he said: “I want you to gain salvation!”
I was confused at the invitation to be saved because I attended church regularly and as far as I was concerned, we all worshipped one God.
On Sunday morning, my friend called to tell me to get ready for church because he was coming over to my house to pick me up. When I saw him approaching our compound, I quickly went to hide because I belonged to another church and didn’t know why I should visit my friend’s church.
After that, my friend would on occasion extend the invitation to come to his church again. One day, I decided that I would go with him to know the reason why he wanted me to accompany him. The first time I attended church with my friend, I felt the Spirit. I heard about the Atonement of Jesus Christ and I was so impressed. When we came back from church, I told him that I can’t go back to my church again. I wanted to attend The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
The next Sunday, i was contacted by some missionaries who asked me if they could visit me at home during the week. I agreed and set an appointment with them. I requested that they bring a copy of the Book of Mormon to me when they came to my house. The missionaries arrived and told me amongst other things “Brother Nimako, do you know that God loves you? The gospel we teach can bless you and your family.” I enjoyed their visit and scheduled another appointment.
I read my copy of the Book of Mormon and prayed. I pondered on the message the missionaries shared and what I was reading in the book of Mormon. I had a good feeling as I did this. I couldn’t wait to be baptised!
After my baptism on 30 January 2009, I was so active in Church, even more active than my friend who invited me, so I started to visit him with missionaries. I asked the missionaries to visit my mother also. I wanted her to be blessed by the gospel I had received.
On July 4, 2014, my mother was also baptised, to my greatest joy. I went on to serve a full-time mission in the Nigeria Benin City Mission. I stood as a witness of the truth. I testify that the gospel is true. I know that Joseph Smith saw God and Jesus Christ, and he was a true prophet. I know with all my heart that if we read the Book of Mormon daily and ponder and pray about it, we will know that Jesus Christ is our Savior and Redeemer.

Some years ago while I was serving as a bishop of a Brigham Young University ward, a young woman came to me for counsel concerning a marriage proposal. She really liked the young man but was strongly committed to not taking a step as important as marriage without receiving inspiration that it was right. She had been praying about whether to marry him and had received no answer. I assured her that the Lord would surely answer her prayers and that she should keep on praying.
The following Sunday she asked to see me again. She felt she was receiving no answer. I interviewed her and established that she was worthy. I again assured her that the Lord does hear and answer prayers and that she should continue praying.
The young man was really pressing her to make a decision. He loved her but felt she was stalling because she probably did not love him. He was approaching the time he might terminate the relationship. She was very concerned but felt she could not marry him without an answer from the Lord. I was very troubled by this. I knew the Lord answered prayers. I knew this young woman was worthy to receive answers to her prayers. Why was she not receiving an answer?
The key came to me in a moment of clear enlightenment. I told her she was expecting the Lord to completely make the decision for her, but He would not do that. Even a decision as important as marriage requires us to exercise our own agency. In Doctrine and Covenants 9:7–9, Oliver Cowdery is told why he was not able to translate the Book of Mormon: “Behold, you have not understood; you have supposed that I would give it unto you, when you took no thought save it was to ask me.
“But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right.
“But if it be not right you shall have no such feelings, but you shall have a stupor of thought that shall cause you to forget the thing which is wrong.”
Like Oliver Cowdery, she had taken no thought except to keep asking the Lord. I told her she must exercise her own agency by studying it out in her mind, making a tentative decision, and then asking the Lord for a confirmation of her decision. I asked her to make two lists. On one list she was to place the things she liked about him and all the positives about marrying him. On the second list she was to outline all her doubts and anything she did not like about him or that was a negative. After a few days she was to evaluate the lists, make a tentative decision on her own, and then go to the Lord for confirmation of her decision.
The following Sunday she asked for a recommend for her temple marriage. I asked her if she was now sure. She felt certain it was right to marry him. I questioned how she had received her answer. She explained that each day as she looked at the two lists, she was crossing things off the list of negatives and adding to the list of positives. Her words were something like, “I just began to feel good about getting married, and I knew that my prayers were being answered.”