Gospel Story Finder

The Ninth Ward of the Las Vegas Nevada Stake planned a 5-day superactivity that would take place in their own valley. The focus of the activity was to learn more about the life and hardships of the early pioneers in their area.
The theme of the activity was “Handcarts to Husqvarnas,” representing old-fashioned and modern methods of travel in the valley. Handcarts were used by the early pioneers, and Husqvarnas, a type of motorcycle, are a popular vehicle with the members of the Ninth Ward.
The opening activity was a game night in which the group was divided into companies of ten each. Of the twelve games played, six were games that might have been played in pioneer days, and six were modern games. The companies finished the evening by decorating their handcarts for the Saturday trek.
Friday evening a modern formal dinner was served complete with musical entertainment. The evening was concluded with a film on the history of the Las Vegas area.
Early the next morning, the groups met at the chapel ready for a day of exploring the valley’s history. On the way to the desert, the caravan of trucks and cars stopped at designated spots to receive short 15-minute history lessons on the area. After arriving at the desert, the group mounted motorcycles or loaded into trucks for a three-mile ride to a predetermined destination. There they found the handcarts waiting for them. Loading up the carts, the youth began the trek that would cover the same three miles they had covered so quickly by modern means. They soon found it was hard work as the sun heated the desert. In rest areas planned along the way, the groups were encouraged to stop and appreciate nature or stop and bury bad habits.
After a pioneer luncheon cooked over an open fire, the group cleaned up the area and returned to the chapel to clean the trucks used on the outing.
On Sunday evening a special fireside was held with the featured speaker talking about looking to the past to help with the future.
The final day of the superactivity was held on the following Activity Night. Video movies had been taken of the various activities and were shown. A local historian talked about the places the youth had visited. The Las Vegas youth felt they really had learned more about their home area and had a greater appreciation for the sacrifices of the pioneers that settled their valley.

My name is Tanoh Ahoukou Mariette, I am a member of the Abobo East Côte d’Ivoire Stake. I would like to share my testimony about believing in God even in the middle of the storms of life.
Due to financial difficulties from my parents, I had to drop out of primary school at the age of eight in a rural area in the east of the country. At the age of 18, I married a young man from my village whom I loved very much and with whom I had four children.
As a young couple, life was difficult, but I had small gainful side jobs to support my husband. Subsequently, he was recruited into the national army with the corollary of a better and more stable life for my children and me.
Once, a young man came to our house and wanted to be a tutor at home for my children. Oddly enough, I had sympathy for him, but my husband didn’t want it. I had to undertake to pay the young man myself with my meagre means. I later learned that he was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This would prove to be precious for later.
After several years of marriage, my husband ended up leaving our home, leaving me alone with six young children. My whole world turned upside down. I had no sufficient source of income to take care of my children and me.
Depressed and seeing no prospect in front of me, I decided one morning to end my life. My last-born son was five years old at the time came to me unexpectedly (probably sent by God) and said, “No mom, don’t do that. What do you want us to become without you?” I hugged my son Martin and we cried together. I felt a sense of guilt and shame. But I had decided to live.
Life was still difficult, so much so that I left home for a brief time to give myself moments of reflection. I went to a friend’s house outside of Abidjan. One day around 6 am, a voice said to me: “Get up quickly and join your children in Abidjan”.
When I arrived, my children taught me that they should be baptized at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, whose missionaries had previously taught my children, but to whom I paid little attention because I was not attracted to religions. I was therefore invited to attend the baptism of my children at the Quatre Etages Ward.
Bishop Etian’s speech had a positive impact on me. It was the story of the “King with the Severed Finger” told by Muslim folk wisdom. A king had a finger cut off during the hunt and imprisoned his advisor who told him to let Allah (God) prevail in all things. Sometime later the king and his retinue were captured in the bush by cannibals who did not want him because of his disability. He was therefore the only one released and his life spared. He ran to deliver his servant, apologizing profusely. The latter replied that God is never wrong and that everything works together for our good. He said, “If you hadn’t put me in jail, I would be with you, captured, devoured by the cannibals, and probably dead today.”
From that moment on, I made a firm resolution to take my life and that of my children totally into my own hands by being baptized. From then on, I decided to forgive my husband for the wrongs I had suffered. My husband is still not in our home, but I have a more brotherly and kinder relationship with him through the power of forgiveness. I undertook income-generating activities that have allowed me to provide for my family and especially to ensure the schooling of my children for more than 15 years. Today, two of my daughters are starting careers as teachers in public schools. My last son has just been admitted to the university for which I am looking for ways to finance the courses. They make me proud. I have been able to go to the Accra Ghana Temple where I was endowed and sealed to my deceased parents.
I hope one day to be able to remarry in the temple to have an eternal marriage. The lessons I draw from my life is that everything works together for the good of one who believes in God.
As told to Sadia Zouzou, Côte d’Ivoire communication director

“One cow in our team was very intelligent. In fact, she was so smart that she used to hide in the willows to keep from being yoked up but when father found her and yoked her she was a good worker and a good milker. She got very lame at one time and could scarcely travel. My parents were very worried, since they had already lost one. They were afraid they could not travel as fast as the rest of the company, and so Mother said she would make a poultice and put it on as soon as the cow laid down for the night. She made a very large one that covered all of the lame hip. Well, the next morning, when father went out to get the cows up he called out, ‘Why, Mother, you have poulticed the wrong hip.’ Mother said, ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s all right. It has gone clear through.’ And sure enough she (the cow) limped very little that day, and was soon as well as ever. I know there was a great deal of faith mixed up with that poultice.”

He had not always had that confidence. His life as a young man, before he encountered the gospel, was gloomy. Born 1 June 1801 in the state of Vermont, Brigham came to believe in God but could not find him, and he often doubted his own purpose. But his conversion and baptism into the Church in 1832 at age 30, after many months of investigation and introspection, transformed him. With “fire in [his] bones,” 4 as he later said, he suddenly faced the world with weighty new goals and with a faith in God that experience only increased.

An interesting way to practice what is preached about etiquette was discovered by the youth of the Murray Third Ward in Utah. An evening’s lesson on social awareness was given to Laurels and Explorers. A week later a full-scale formal dinner was hosted by MIA leaders and the bishopric. In a lovely home a long table was covered with fine linen, and crystal, silverware, and complete china settings were laid. Guests came in their party best. Boys had called the girls on the telephone properly for the date. Boys attended to the girls’ needs and even gave their “orders” to the waiters (members of the bishopric!). At the end of the evening each was warmly appreciative, seeking the hosts out to express thanks. (An extra touch of niceness is a note of thanks the following day.)

It was such a successful event that now everyone is wondering what they can learn next that they can put into practice with as much fun.

One Sunday a small child handed the bishop his family’s donation envelope as he entered the chapel before the sacrament meeting. The family had just learned of someone in the ward in need. The boy’s father had said something like this to the child as he placed a generous fast offering in the envelope: “We fasted today and prayed for those in need. Please give this envelope to the bishop for us. I know that he will give it to help those with greater needs than ours.”

I could tell from the boy’s smile and the way he held the envelope so tightly that he felt the great trust of his father to carry the family offering for the poor.

The TET offensive was at its height in Vietnam when I received orders to report to Korea. I was to become Chief of Professional Services for the Surgeon of the U.S. Army and for the United Nations Forces. I had been at my new assignment only a month when a male nurse, no older than many of the other young soldiers I dealt with daily, arrived at the same command.
My surprise came when he asked to see me alone one day and said, “Colonel, as near as I can see, there are only six ‘straight arrows’ in this entire command (‘straight arrow’ was a term the soldiers used to mean a man who maintained his chastity while in the service). You are the one I admire most. I desire very much to go back home to my wife and family pure, but I’m afraid I don’t have the courage and stamina to do it. Are you going to remain a straight arrow? How are you going to do it?”
I was a bit taken back by the abruptness of his inquiry, but I knew the answer. I had faced the same decision and found my own answer long before I had arrived in the Far East. I told him I would remain a straight arrow throughout my tour in Korea and forever. I said I didn’t know how strong I was because I didn’t allow myself in a position where I could be tempted. I also told him I didn’t anesthetize my conscience by drinking.
Then I bore my testimony about Church-related activities during my off-duty hours, noting that they provided a wholesome means for keeping me occupied.
As our conversation progressed, I realized that this young man deeply loved his wife. I told him that if he lost his virtue, it would somehow be conveyed in the next letter he wrote to her and that a great wall would begin to rise between them. He acknowledged that he knew this to be true, and we both realized that we had seen it occur in the lives of our unchaste friends. We then made a contract. He promised to maintain his chastity as long as I maintained mine. We attempted to involve others in a similar agreement, but no one wanted to join us.
About two months later, my friend returned to my office. “Well, Colonel,” he said, “there are now only four straight arrows left in this outfit.” Shortly after that he dropped by again to tell me that the number was down to three. When I had just four months remaining to finish my tour of duty in Korea, he stopped in one day and said, “It’s down to you and me.” I asked him if he was going to make it. His reply? “Absolutely.”
When the time came for me to return to the States, my friend faced one more month before he could rejoin his wife. We had often discussed the gospel and our friendship was a sturdy bond. We both wept as I bid him farewell. He assured me that he would do nothing during his last month that would jeopardize in any way the happiness he had worked for until now, not when he was so close to realizing his goal.
Even though that young man was not a member of the Church, he understood some vital lessons of life. He knew that it is necessary to set a goal in order to obtain it. Returning home clean and pure would require struggle, and he was willing to put forth the necessary effort. He also was humble enough to let someone else know about his objective so that he would have a person to turn to who could strengthen him during a moment of weakness.
The Savior would like to have a similar relationship with those he loves. He wants us to set our goals high, founded on his commandments. We can work with him by planning in advance what we hope to achieve and reviewing our goals with him regularly in prayer. Many of the other soldiers in our outfit thought about remaining straight arrows. However, this young fellow and I were the only two who succeeded, and there was a reason why. The others succumbed in a moment of weakness. We accomplished our goal by charting our course of action in advance.
To make the decision at the time of temptation is too late. We must decide ahead of time that we will not compromise our ideals. Then when we’re tempted, we only need to ask ourselves, “Is this a compromise?” If it is, the proper decision has already been made.

I remember once in 1957, while I was acting as a new president of a branch in Argentina, I decided to interview the members with respect to the importance of paying tithing. I found myself talking with one good brother of the branch whose name was Jose, who had difficulty paying his tithing. I asked him bluntly, “Brother Jose, why don’t you pay your tithing?” I’m sure Jose didn’t expect me to be so direct.
After a moment of silence he responded: “As you know, President, I have two children. The wage of a laborer is very low. This month I have to buy my children shoes to go to school; and, mathematically, I just don’t have enough money.”
In an instant response, I said, “Jose, I promise you that if you pay your tithing faithfully, your children will have their shoes to go to school, and you will be able to pay for all the needs of your home. I don’t know how he will do it, but the Lord always keeps his promises. Besides that,” I added, “If you still find that you don’t have enough money, I will give you back what you paid in tithing from my own pocket.”
On the way home, I wondered if what I had done was the right thing. Here I was, recently married, just getting started in my career, and faced with my own economic problems. I began to worry about my own shoes, let alone those of Jose’s family! Even though when I got home my dear wife wholeheartedly supported me and reassured me that everything would be all right, I must say that that night nobody prayed harder for Brother Jose’s economic welfare than I did.
One month later, I once again sat down with Jose. Though the tears in his eyes almost made it impossible for him to speak, he said: “President, it is incredible. I paid my tithing; I was able to meet all of my obligations, and I even purchased the new shoes for my children, all without an increase in my wage. I know that the Lord keeps his promises!”
Jose remains to this day a faithful tithe payer.

Last year a dear family friend passed away. Lucile was 89 years old and had been a widow for more than 20 years. She was not a rich woman, she was not famous, and most of the world knew nothing of her passing. But her family knew. Her neighbors knew. The members of her ward knew. For all who had experienced her love, her death had left the world a diminished place. During her years as a widow, Lucile had endured difficult challenges, including the death of a beloved grandson and infirmities brought on by age. But Lucile continued to nourish everyone she knew with her spirit; with her baked goods, her quilts and afghans; with her humor and goodwill. And she loved to work in the temple. One spring day in 1981, she wrote in her journal: “This morning at 3:30 A.M., as I was walking up the path to the temple, I watched the flag gently blowing in the breeze and looked at the beautiful sky and thought how happy I was to be there. I felt sad for all the people who [were] sleeping and missing the awakening of a beautiful day.”
Most of us don’t think the world is “awakening” at 3:30 in the morning, and we’re perfectly happy to roll over in bed about then and allow Lucile to feel sorry for us. But what an attitude! Only a flow of goodness from within could explain it. Did she possess this purity of spirit at 15, at 25, or even 55? I don’t know. In most cases, it probably takes a lifetime of listening to the Holy Ghost before we know God’s voice so well and before we trust in the living waters enough to taste them throughout the entire day—especially a day that begins at 3:30 A.M. But I believe the living waters sustained Lucile during those long years when she might have given way to self-pity, and her life, her spirit, became nourishment to everyone she knew.

It is important for each deacon to be guided to a spiritual awareness of the sacredness of his ordained calling. In one ward, the lesson was effectively taught pertaining to the collection of fast offerings.

On fast day, the ward members were visited by deacons and teachers so that each family could make a contribution. The deacons were a bit disgruntled, having to arise earlier than usual to fulfill this assignment.
The inspiration came for the bishopric to take a busload of the deacons and teachers to Welfare Square in Salt Lake City. Here they saw needy children receiving new shoes and other items of clothing. Here they witnessed empty baskets being filled with groceries. There was no money exchanged. One brief comment was made: “Young men, this is what the money you collect on fast day provides—even food, clothing, and shelter for those who are in need.” The Aaronic Priesthood young men smiled more, stepped higher, and served more willingly in filling their assignments.

Earlier this year, I was provided with an exciting yet humbling opportunity to help my little sister, Oceane, progress on the covenant path by accepting the invitation to be baptized and fulfill one of the prescribed requirements to enter the celestial kingdom. She postponed her baptism one month, until I was ordained a priest, to give me the privilege to perform the ordinance, while our other sisters were also privileged to work under priesthood assignment and stand as witnesses. As we stood on opposite sides of the font and prepared to enter the water, I noticed her excitement, as it matched mine. And I felt united with her, seeing that she was making the right decision. This opportunity to exercise the priesthood required me to be more careful and less casual in my gospel living. In order to prepare, I went to the temple every day that week, supported by my mom, grandma, and sister, to perform baptisms for the dead.
This experience taught me a lot about the priesthood and how I could exercise it worthily. I know that all priesthood holders can feel the same things I felt if we follow Nephi’s example to “go and do” (see 1 Nephi 3:7). We cannot sit idly and expect the Lord to use us in His great work. We must not wait for those who need our aid to seek us out; it is our duty as priesthood holders to exemplify and stand as witnesses of God. If we are making decisions that inhibit us from our eternal progression, we must change now. Satan will try his hardest to keep us in a carnal state of seeking simple pleasures. But I know that if we put in the effort, find those who will support us, and repent each day, the resulting blessings will be incredible and our lives will be forever changed as we press forward on the covenant path.

Since I have been a member of the Church, I have had a sincere desire to keep the commandments. Paying tithing, however, was a challenge because my mother, who was not a Latter-day Saint, would not allow it.
When I got paid, I set aside money for tithing in one of my drawers. But when the day came to return the money to the Lord, it wasn’t there. I asked my mother if she had seen it, and she answered that she had spent it because the Lord did not need it. I did not argue with her, for I believed there was another way to resolve this problem.
Because I was not able to pay my tithing, I was sad for a long time. When I went to my bishop’s office for tithing settlement, he asked if I was a full-tithe payer, and with tears in my eyes I told him I was not because my mother had taken my tithing money. My bishop comforted me by saying that the Lord knew the desires of my heart. Then he asked me to bring my mother in for an interview that Wednesday. I agreed.
During that week I asked myself, “How can I take my mother for an interview with the bishop if she is not a Church member? She won’t accept the invitation!’
When Wednesday arrived I had not said anything to her, so I simply asked her to come with me to the meetinghouse, explaining that I did not want to go alone. Luckily, she said she would go.
Bishop Feitosa received her kindly and led her into his office. I was very anxious while my mother was in there. Finally my mother came out of his office—with a smile.
On the way home, my mother looked at me and said, “From now on you are going to pay your tithing every month.” What joy filled my heart! The Lord had prepared a means for my mother to understand my desire to observe this sacred commandment.
My mother has since joined the Church. She pays her tithing and makes sure I pay mine. We have received marvelous blessings from keeping this commandment because an inspired leader spoke with my mother about sacrifice, dedication, and faithfulness to the Lord.
Evanilda Gomes do Nascimento, Brazil

It all started when I went baby-sitting one night for my favorite family, the Tiltons. They have three boys, ranging from seventh grade to diapers. Eric is 12 and he just sat typing away at his computer. Doug is in second grade. He likes robots. Chris is two. He’s just a cutie. All evening I played some sort of space cadet with a transformer in one hand and Chris’s binky in the other. I was mostly around Doug, though. Little did I know.
Mrs. Tilton called two days later to say that Doug had come down with chicken pox. I grimly started counting the days before I, too, fell to the itching red spots, boredom, and fever.
I was concerned about missing school. High school wasn’t getting any easier. But I was most afraid of all my friends not really noticing or caring that I was gone. I could picture a classroom with an empty chair and not a, “Oh, where’s A. J. today?”
They would go on without me and that made me feel empty. I could see my friends walking by my locker and not noticing my absence. They would laugh and talk, and I wouldn’t be with them.
With all this thinking, I got very depressed. I itched, felt icky, had Calamine lotion applied every couple of hours, and had red spots everywhere. Because I had them on my face, I felt especially dreary and hid every time someone came to the house. Mom and Dad laughed over that.
I didn’t go to church or anywhere that weekend of course. But when my mom came home from sacrament meeting on Sunday, she said that a few people had asked where I was. At first I was happy, then a little angry. It wasn’t fair that I had to get this stupid disease and stay home.
Tuesday after school when a blue car drove up, I promptly ducked into the bathroom. But I could hear Sonja and Robin from church. I peeked out to see what they were doing when Mom called me out. They had come to see me! I stepped out gingerly to exclamations of sympathy and caring. I grinned and said, “I feel as bad as I look.”
But that’s not what mattered the most. They had come to see me. They had cared enough. I was even more surprised a minute later when Sonja gave me a package. I opened it and there inside was a Sesame Street coloring book, six crayons, and a chocolate Santa. I couldn’t believe it. I looked up, determined not to cry. All I could say was, “Thank you, oh, thanks so much.” Sonja and Robin smiled.
“You see, it’s sort of an inside joke,” Sonja explained.
“When I was little and broke my leg, Sonja gave me a coloring book, crayons, and a candy bar,” said Robin, grinning up at her older sister.
“Since you’ve already had chicken pox, do you mind getting a little of this stuff on you?” I asked, pointing to the pink lotion on my face and hands. “If you don’t, I’m going to hug you.”
They laughed and didn’t mind at all. I knew then that the book and crayons and the candy didn’t matter half so much as the cheerful words.
I went on through the stages of chicken pox, but something inside me had changed. I had always been the one sort of in the shadows, alone. Now I felt a part of things because somebody cared. The visit made a difference.

Recently, three fellow priesthood holders and I were in the home of a mother who was the head of the household and caring for at least four children. After a brief visit, one of my colleagues asked this matriarch to share her favourite hymn. Without hesitation she responded with “Come, Ye Children of the Lord”. They had not attended church for years, and we asked if we could sing that hymn for the family. Her face lit up as we sang, and the room reverberated with the beautiful words of the hymn. There were smiles on every face as the Spirit of the Lord filled the room. It was easy for us to invite this wonderful family back to church and share with them how our Savior wants them to return.

Melusi and the two families we visited are once again actively participating in church. Elder Mervyn B. Arnold of the Seventy said, “As we go to the rescue, God gives us power, encouragement, and blessings.”1 I have learned that we will receive help and inspiration when we are on the Lord’s errand. We surely do not go alone when we go to rescue His children. He has indeed graven us upon the palms of His hands and will therefore never forget any of His children.

“As small boys, my brothers and I used to wear our hair short, as short as the clippers would cut it. I think Uncle George was about the only one who had enough money to buy a pair of clippers in those days. So we’d always go up to Uncle George’s to get our hair cut, and Ezra T. was the biggest boy, so he’d always cut our hair. He’d start at the back and come right over to the front. Then he’d go by one ear over to the other ear. Then he’d get the mirror and show us how we looked, and we had four patches of hair. He’d say, “Is that the way you wanted it?” We’d tell him no, and then he’d always discover that the clippers wouldn’t cut anymore. He’d tease us for a long while, and then finally the clippers would start working and he’d finish our hair.

How about this for a conversion chain? Mark Lybbert invited Sharon Violette and Linda Prothero to the institute in Yakima, Washington. Their baptisms, and that of Linda’s twin, Brenda, resulted. Then Sharon and Brenda brought Tina Manzano into membership. A cousin of the twins was next—Cheryl. They went to a doughnut shop and introduced themselves and the gospel to Dan Kelso, who joined the Church. Marilyn Dailey showed some interest, and the institute crowd went to work. Now Marilyn and seven other family members are in the Church. Cheryl also brought her mom and two sisters to firesides at the institute. Baptisms followed. Wow!

On another occasion, near the Christmas season, I had the opportunity to meet in the Church Office Building with a group of handicapped children. There were about sixty in the group. My heart literally melted as I met with them. They sang for me “I Am a Child of God,” “Rudolph, the Red-nosed Reindeer,” and “As I Have Loved You, Love One Another.” There was such an angelic expression on their faces and such a simple trust expressed in their comments that I felt I was on sacred ground. They presented to me a beautiful booklet where each one had prepared a special page illustrating those blessings for which he or she was most thankful at Christmastime. I commend the many teachers and families who work behind the scenes in bringing a measure of comfort, purpose, and joy to these special children. They brightened my entire day.

I used to not like going to church because I felt I had no friends there. At school, I had friends I could laugh with. But I felt that the young women at church were different from me or might not like my personality. I started pretending to be asleep so I wouldn’t have to attend church.
Then the COVID-19 pandemic came, and we went through a time of losing things. I live with my mom and grandma. My mom lost her job, and we thought we would have to give up our home. I started looking for a cheaper place to live, but I didn’t find any. Instead, I found the Savior.
The Church started broadcasting church services online, and my mother would make me wake up and watch, which helped me to “fake it till I made it.” I felt like the Savior was reaching out to me, even if I wasn’t reaching out to Him. And when I started to reach out to Him, He made His hand more reachable. Losing things helped me find the Savior.
I felt like the Savior was reaching out to me, even if I wasn’t reaching out to Him.
Our bishop gave me a calling, and the other young women became my friends because I opened myself to them. Since I’d felt like I didn’t have friends, I realized others might experience this too. It made me think I should make the first move and reach out.
In the end, the Lord helped my mother find a new job. Thankfully, we still live in our home, and the Savior made it a holier place. I still laugh with my friends at school too. But nothing beats the joy the Savior offers.

I was called to serve as a missionary and assigned to the Brazil Florianópolis Mission. I spent seven months there and ended up returning home early. When I was going home, I said a prayer asking Heavenly Father to not release me as a missionary. After I prayed, I felt the Spirit telling me that everything would be OK.
During my first week home, I trusted in the way I felt after I prayed at the airport. I began helping in the temple store. When I got the chance to meet with my stake president, he was very happy to hear of my service and said he wouldn’t release me. I was then assigned to be a service missionary in my home mission, the Recife Northeast Mission.
My service mission includes various assignments. During the week I help in the temple shop, the temple office, and the laundry room. There is always something to do at the temple—the missionaries never sit still there.
On Saturdays I help with institute. I participated in the institute’s missionary preparation class to share what I learned on the mission—it felt so good to share. I also help distribute food to the students after class.
In addition to my specific assignments, I use my social networks to share the gospel. I have a page I created when I was 17 years old that talks about the youth program.
The Lord has called us to serve. He knows us and our capabilities. Service missions are inspired by the Lord, and if you were assigned to serve one, it’s because the Lord needs your help in building His kingdom.
Even if I’m sad or facing difficulties, I really like it when I complete each month of my mission and can reflect on how I’ve grown and been strengthened during that time. I love my mission. It really is inspired by the Lord.

A few weeks ago our youngest son and his wife and family stopped to see us. The first one out of the car was our two-year-old grandson. He came running to me with his arms outstretched, shouting, “Gwampa! Gwampa! Gwampa!”
He hugged my legs, and I looked down at that smiling face and those big, innocent eyes and thought, “What kind of a world awaits him?”
For a moment I had that feeling of anxiety, that fear of the future that so many parents express to us. Everywhere we go fathers and mothers worry about the future of their children in this very troubled world.
But then a feeling of assurance came over me. My fear of the future faded.
That guiding, comforting Spirit, with which we in the Church are so familiar, brought to my remembrance what I already knew. The fear of the future was gone. That bright-eyed, little two-year-old can have a good life—a very good life—and so can his children and his grandchildren, even though they will live in a world where there is much of wickedness.