Gospel Story Finder

I get angry easily. I’ve listened to many conference messages that talk about anger and learned that when we are angry, we are often prideful. And pride separates us from God. So anger is a challenge I’m trying to overcome.
A seminary teacher told me that to overcome anger, I can try replacing it with a Christlike attribute. I decided to try replacing my anger with the ability to forgive.
During my seminary class, one of my classmates threw some scriptures on my leg. I was angry at that moment, and I shouted at him. But then I remembered Christlike forgiveness. When class was over, I went to him and told him I was sorry for shouting at him. I forgave him, and then he apologized as well.
As I have practiced looking to Christ through forgiveness, I’ve seen myself change. I try to view things with an eternal perspective instead of getting angry. When I focus on Christ and attend seminary, it strengthens my testimony of Him, and I can help others strengthen their own testimonies too.

Like many of you, much thought and prayer preceded Douglas's decision to come to BYU-Idaho. He considered other paths, but the Spirit prevailed, and Douglas chose a most unexpected path that has proved to be guided by the Lord.

While you may not have met Douglas, some of his work has been displayed in the Spori Building.

In many ways, Douglas blends in with thousands of other BYU-Idaho students, but his story diverges. Douglas was born in Hanoi, Vietnam, to parents who divorced when he was 16. The family separation prompted many questions, including his own purpose in life. Enter his high school physics teacher, who told the students about an unfamiliar book called the Bible. Douglas explains that this really was an odd topic because in Vietnam, "Christianity is not popular. In fact, it's almost taboo, and most people consider themselves atheists."[2] Douglas felt prompted to learn more about Christian churches and determine whether they were as "sketchy" as portrayed in the media. He located a Christian church called "Latter-Day Saints" just five minutes from his home. Later he learned it was one of only two LDS branches in the entire country. Although Douglas had planned to sit in the back of the church, observe, and then leave, his decision to seek increased knowledge and understanding led Douglas to a different experience. When he arrived, he was warmly welcomed, and a young man led him to a seat in the front of the chapel. This was not at all what he'd planned, but inside he felt an unusual feeling of peace. He liked the feeling, so he stayed. The young man spoke Vietnamese so perfectly that initially Douglas didn't realize he was American. Interested, Douglas asked him about his background and was invited to learn more. To his surprise, the first lesson was about whether there was purpose in life.

Within three months, Douglas made a decision that changed the course of his life forever. He entered into the covenant of baptism and promised to take upon himself the name of Jesus Christ. Almost immediately, his life took on greater purpose: He developed a great drive to develop spiritually and to learn English. He volunteered to translate for visitors to Hanoi, and his vocabulary and pronunciation improved rapidly. Upon learning of the Church's education system, his post-high school plans to attend a university in Finland changed. His desire to progress in the gospel and lead a purposeful life brought him to Rexburg, Idaho. Douglas views coming to BYU-Idaho as the best decision he's made in his life. It was a difficult decision, though, because he worried about leaving his mother, with whom he had a close relationship, alone in Vietnam.

But, once he arrived and met his faculty, he knew he'd made a good choice. He says: "I truly love it here. I have a personal and meaningful relationship with my faculty, which I'd not expected in college."[3]

Although Douglas had planned for years to major in business, instead he chose a major in communication with a public-relations emphasis. Because he followed spiritual promptings, he discovered an immense talent of which he was completely unaware. He says, "I picked up a camera for the first time a couple years ago.
"I had never designed anything in my whole life. I didn't know I had any of this potential, but this place made it possible."[4]

Douglas has about a year left until he completes his degree. But first, a much-prayed-for detour. He explains: "Last summer, right after my internship at Universal Studios in Florida, I invited my mom to come here.
"It was supposed to be my ticket to go back to Vietnam, but a part of me realized she needed to come see what I was doing and see these Mormon people. That experience, I think, touched her heart, and she realized I should go on a mission. It's mind-blowing to me that she would ever agree for me to go on a mission before I graduated college, because the culture in Vietnam is that education is number one. The Lord remembered my promise to serve Him."[5]

The next chapter of Elder Douglas Phan's BYU-Idaho story now moves to a new location. He reported to the Provo MTC just five weeks ago and will serve for the next two years in the Texas Houston South Mission. Elder Phan's story is unfinished, but his choices, dedicated work, and willingness to follow the Lord's path for him have created a story that is as beautiful and majestic as his photos.

Then one evening, so late that my thinker had stopped working for the day, Arnfinn challenged me to an IQ test. He sat down on one side of the dining room table and started making up equations and mathematical formulas in order to answer the questions. I was on the opposite side of the table drawing pictures to solve the problems presented. We finished and compared our test answers, only to find that we had achieved the same answers. That’s when I realized that the test was similar to our lives together.
Let me explain: He does things one way, and I do them another. But we have the same goal, even though the way there may vary. Reaching that goal is like the IQ test: while he makes equations and I draw pictures, we still get to the same answers.
I know I could never do his job as a lawyer, and I am pretty sure he would find my line of work as a writer and water-color artist difficult. The trick has been to find him cute when he does things differently from me instead of being annoyed. Difference can be an exciting learning experience if we let it. I told Arnfinn one day, “If you can teach me some things and maybe I can teach you some, we will turn out OK one day.” We both have to be teachable, and it’s an ongoing process. Admiration has become a key word.

At times we may think that no one cares—but someone always cares! Your Heavenly Father will not leave you to struggle alone but stands ever ready to help. Most often such assistance comes quietly, at other times with dramatic impact. Elder Marion D. Hanks, some years ago, related an account of one who received such assistance. He told of a young divorced woman, the mother of seven children then ranging in ages from five to 16. One evening she went across the street to deliver something to a neighbor. She indicated later that as she turned to walk back home, she could see her house lighted up. She could hear echoes of her children as she had walked out of the door a few minutes earlier: “Mom, what are we going to have for dinner?” “Can you take me to the library?” “Mom, I have to get some poster paper tonight.” Tired and weary, she thought of all of those children who were home waiting for her to come home and meet their needs. She said that at that moment her burdens felt very heavy on her shoulders.

She recalled looking through tears toward the sky, and she said, “O my Father, I just can’t handle things tonight. I’m too tired. I can’t face it. I can’t go home and take care of all those children alone. Could I come to You and stay with You for just one night? I’ll come back in the morning.”

She didn’t really hear the words of reply, but she heard them in her mind. The answer was, “No, little one, you can’t come to me now, for you would never wish to return. But I can come to you.”

Heidi Tuttle, now Heidi Kim, says her perspective has changed tremendously in 15 years.

“When I was 17, I didn’t see the whole picture,” she says as her toddler son, Kennan, dashes by in red overalls. She scoops him up and kisses the top of his head as he squirms away.

“After my mission to Korea and getting married, I realized the gospel and my family are what’s most important,” Heidi says, as she looks proudly at her husband who is singing Kennan a special song in Korean.

At the conclusion of a General Welfare Services Executive Committee meeting, where I felt I had waxed eloquent in discussing farms, trucks, silos, and canneries, President Romney invited me into his office for an unscheduled meeting. He asked one question, “Brother Pace, why is it we never discuss principles and doctrine anymore?”
I have not been the same since I heard that penetrating inquiry. From that time until my release as the managing director of Welfare Services three years later, I vowed to be more diligent in evaluating programs to see if they were still accomplishing their objective relative to principles.

As a teenager, I was a slacker. I didn’t like commitment and my focus was on having fun. I did poorly in school and paid little attention in church. My low ideals stood out like my long hair. That was my status in life when my Young Men’s leader, John Galbraith, began to encourage us young men to be our “best self.” His enthusiasm for life, as well as his success stories, caught my attention and I began thinking seriously about where I was going with my life. Later, during my senior year, a teacher basically called me out for being a slacker. I decided then and there that I needed to change. That decision quickly evolved into a commitment to be true to myself and to God. At that time, I did not know the Church was true but became determined to find out. Over the next 18 months I read the Book of Mormon, pondered, and prayed sincerely about it. I did my best to exercise faith and eventually received an undeniable confirmation from the Spirit that it is true. I felt like I had begun running in the race of life!

Several years ago, I had the opportunity to serve as the stake’s young women camp director. At this camp, the young women were able to strengthen their testimonies of Jesus Christ, make new friends, and develop leadership skills. One experience that I will never forget happened in a small river near the camp. As part of that activity, we led the young women through some challenging obstacles down to the river. When they finally reached their goal, they enjoyed wading in the water. The young women were very happy and having fun. However, I noticed one of the girls who was looking at the water with great interest, as if she was trying to find something. I decided to ask what had drawn her interest.
I said, “What’s wrong?” She replied that she was looking for a silver earring that had fallen in the river. I reminded her that there were rules at camp that if followed would help avoid situations like this. She acknowledged her mistake but then emotionally said, “Those earrings are precious because my grandmother gave them to me.” I felt badly that she had lost it.
After watching her search for those earrings doubt filled my thoughts. How was it even possible to help her find anything in this rocky river bottom and constantly flowing waters? Then I felt impressed that we should say a prayer together and I asked, “Do you have faith that Jesus Christ could help us?”
She responded with a firm, “Yes.”
I let her know that I also felt that He would help us.
After our prayer, we looked in the river. It was still difficult but at one point it seemed like the movement of the water stopped and I saw something shiny. I bent down, put my hands in the water, and stirred the rocky soil and there was the young woman’s earring. I presented it to her, and our embrace was filled with happiness and gratitude for this miracle from our Heavenly Father, because of our faith.
These examples show us that faith requires us to act on our belief in the Savior even though we may not have a perfect knowledge of things. We can accomplish great things as we act. Our acts of faith, though they may appear as great sacrifices on our part, return to us as personal miracles that demonstrate Heavenly Father’s love for each of us. My young woman received her personal miracle, and like the widow of Zarephath, I learned to offer what I can when the Lord presents opportunities to me to bless others.

In my growing-up years in Germany, I attended church in many different locations and circumstances—in humble back rooms, in impressive villas, and in very functional modern chapels. All of these buildings had one important factor in common: the Spirit of God was present. The love of the Savior could be felt as we assembled as a branch or ward family.
The Zwickau chapel had an old air-driven organ. Every Sunday a young man was assigned to push up and down the sturdy lever operating the bellows to make the organ work. Even before I was an Aaronic Priesthood bearer, I sometimes had the great privilege to assist in this important task.
While the congregation sang our beloved hymns of the Restoration, I pumped with all my strength so the organ would not run out of wind. The eyes of the organist unmistakably indicated whether I was doing fine or needed to increase my efforts quickly. I always felt honored by the importance of this duty and the trust that the organist had placed in me. It was a wonderful feeling of accomplishment to have a responsibility and to be part of this great work.
There was an additional benefit that came from this assignment: the bellows operator sat in a seat that offered a view of a stained-glass window that beautified the front part of the chapel. The stained glass portrayed the First Vision, with Joseph Smith kneeling in the Sacred Grove, looking up toward heaven and into a pillar of light.
During the hymns of the congregation and even during talks and testimonies given by our members, I often looked at this depiction of a most sacred moment in world history. In my mind’s eye I saw Joseph receiving knowledge, witness, and divine instructions as he became a blessed instrument in the hand of our Heavenly Father.
I felt a special spirit while looking at the beautiful scene in this window picture of a believing young boy in a sacred grove who made a courageous decision to earnestly pray to our Heavenly Father—a Father who listened and responded lovingly to him.
Here I was, a young boy in post–World War II Germany, living in a city in ruins, thousands of miles away from Palmyra, New York, in North America and more than a hundred years after the event actually took place. By the universal power of the Holy Ghost, I felt in my heart and in my mind that it was true, that Joseph Smith saw God and Jesus Christ and heard Their voices. The Spirit of God comforted my soul at this young age with an assurance of the reality of this sacred moment which resulted in the beginning of a worldwide movement destined to “roll forth, until it has filled the whole earth” (D&C 65:2). I believed Joseph Smith’s testimony of that glorious experience in the Sacred Grove then, and I know it now. God has spoken to mankind again!

I left my parents’ home, when I was 21 and went to stay with my uncle. I started going to the college at the Institut Superiéur des Techniques Appliquées.

Lacking money to pay for food or transportation, I still went to school, sometimes doing the auto stop, begging for help. I cried sometimes standing on the street—waiting and waiting. I never felt discouraged by my situation. I did that for three years. Then I attended another university for five more years. It was difficult, but I never gave up.

I still remember my dad’s counsel, “My son, if you do not learn the cost of a loaf of bread, you will never know what your life truly means.”

I started doing small jobs here and there. I tutored students. I did everything that was honorable to do. Sometimes people mocked me, but I knew what I was doing. It was for my life.

With my small income, I paid my tithing and saved to pay for my education. I will always be grateful to my mentors, my parents, my priesthood leaders, and friends who were there to encourage me. Those experiences in my early life helped to build who I am today.

When I look back into my life, 13 years ago, I remember the times I used to wander aimlessly with loneliness seeking for some kind of inspiration. And that’s the time when the Lord showed me this true church. I started coming to church and was baptized on October 16, 2005. Later I learned about the gospel regularly and followed it consistently, which helped me make wise choices in many aspects of my life, and this helped me grow spiritually.

Mother had been living with me for almost five years. In love and gratitude I was glad I could care for her just as she had cared for me for so many years. But I missed her smiles and humorous comments. I longed to have her experience again the joy and excitement she had once felt when she went on rides with me. It hadn’t really mattered where we went. Mother never missed pointing out the flowers, the birds on the telephone wires, or the children playing.
I missed the companionship we had enjoyed as we peeled potatoes, snapped beans, or read together. I longed to share childhood experiences with her and tell her news about my siblings and her grandchildren. She had always enjoyed family dropping by, especially the grandchildren. But now her dementia had changed things. She really wasn’t sure anymore who I was, other than someone special who cared for her.
It had been a particularly difficult day with Mother. She gave me the usual blank stares when I tried to make conversation and distrustful looks when I tried to assist her. I was exhausted and frustrated as I sat down on the couch to think. I began to read aloud one of Mother’s journals in hopes that she might be entertained by it and perhaps remember a little. My efforts proved futile, but as I continued to read to myself, the memories surfaced in me.
In those pages Mother repeatedly expressed the joy she had felt when her family would visit and the void she had felt when they left. She wrote of how hard it had been for her when my father became ill and, after a long struggle, had left her a widow at the age of 59. She wrote of how she missed Father and of how she worried about my older brother, who was stricken with the same disease.
Mother wrote of happy, fulfilling experiences like teaching Church classes and participating in single adult activities. She wrote of the satisfaction she had received in going to Dilkon, Arizona, to teach the gospel once a week on the Navajo Indian reservation. This brought to my mind how she had always emphasized the importance of being dependable when someone was counting on you. Sometimes her entries were short because she had been helping someone; they reminded me of how she often took food or gifts to anyone she thought needed help or cheer. Many times in her entries she bore her testimony of the gospel.
I was especially touched by how she expressed the sorrow and worry she had felt when my daughter was born with Down syndrome and associated problems. Had she really spent almost a whole month feeding and caring for our other children as my husband and I went back and forth to the hospital while Debra Sue underwent open-heart surgery and related complications? Yes! And she had done it at age 70!
I remembered how she had always been there for me when I needed her. Through the years I learned that if she could not be with me in person, her faithful letters and prayers would sustain me.
That night, as I sang hymns to Mother to calm her to sleep, I had an overwhelming surge of love for my brave, always-sacrificing mother and deep gratitude for the words of her journal that had brought her back to me.

After 18 months of preparation, including writing, choreography, and making costumes for 3,500 youth from 31 stakes around Ogden, Utah, the production Arise: Youth Spectacular was performed for over 45,000 people on three different evenings at a football stadium.
Aleisha Keller, 14, of the Ogden Utah Weber Heights Stake explains, “Three councils, each including 10 stakes, presented a 20-minute dance and musical program. Our stake represented youth from Scotland dancing to live bagpipe music, and the whole group also sang three songs, including ‘Called to Serve,’ when each of us held up our own copy of the Book of Mormon.
“But my favorite part of the youth spectacular,” she says, “was the last song, ‘Arise!’ Some of the words are: ‘Arise, shine forth! Be a light unto the world!’ It made me feel wonderful inside that we can all work together to be a standard to everyone we associate with.”
In addition to being an evening of uplifting music, the dance festival changed the lives of those involved. Matt Sakurada, 18, of the Roy Utah North Stake says: “There were lots of missionaries participating. That meant a lot to me because my brother is serving, and it felt as if he were there. This ‘Arise’ program helped me to realize that I should go on a mission, too.”
The pageant also touched the hearts of those who saw the production. Jolette Neeley, 20, of the Ogden Utah YSA First Stake says, “When I went to work on Monday following the performance, I ended up talking to one of my coworkers. She had been invited to the performance and pointed out that she had seen me singing and told me how much she had enjoyed it. We continued talking, and I learned that she had not been to church for some time. I was grateful for the opportunity I had to share my testimony with her and gave her the Book of Mormon that I had from the performance. I can testify that our program really did touch lives and planted seeds.”

Over forty-five years ago, when Dallin H. Oaks was a law professor at the University of Chicago, he had a harrowing encounter that almost ended in bloody tragedy. One evening, after a late church meeting, Elder Oaks and his wife, June, drove another sister to her apartment building. Returning to the car after walking this sister to her door, he was accosted by a young man brandishing a gun. The agitated juvenile jabbed his barrel into Elder Oaks' belly, demanding all his money. When he discovered Elder Oaks didn't have any cash, he demanded access to the car where June was inside watching this terrifying drama through the window. Think for a second, how would you have responded to that threat? Elder Oaks chose to not give in to his demands. A stand-off ensued, and the young man threatened to kill him if he didn't comply. But Elder Oaks stood firm.
At one point during this tense stalemate, the young man became distracted by a bus approaching behind him, out of his view, and he let his gun drift a bit to one side. Elder Oaks saw an opportunity, fully confident he could disarm the young man if he acted quickly to seize the weapon. Now what would you have done? Would you have made a grab for the gun? Elder Oaks almost did. But then something happened. "I did not see anything or hear anything, Elder Oaks said, "but I knew something. I knew what would happen if I grabbed that gun. We would struggle, and I would turn the gun into that young man's chest. It would fire, and he would die. I also understood that I must not have the blood of that young man on my conscience for the rest of my life."[1] It was a surprising thought for Elder Oaks; his life and the life of this stranger, this young man who wanted to harm him, were intertwined. Either they both made it out alive or both of them would be damaged. And that simple thought, that connection, completely changed the situation. "I relaxed," Elder Oaks said, "and as the bus pulled away I followed an impulse to put my right hand on his shoulder and give him a lecture. June and I had some teenage children at that time, and giving lectures came naturally. 'Look here,' I said. 'This isn't right. What you're doing just isn't right. The next car might be a policeman, and you could get killed or sent to jail for this.'"[2] Now it was the young man's turn to be surprised. The man he'd threatened to kill wasn't scared or angry, but was acting like a loving father, placing a warm hand on his shoulder and expressing genuine concern for his safety. This totally threw him off. "With the gun back in my stomach," Elder Oaks noted, "the young robber replied to my lecture by going through his demands for the third time. But this time his voice was subdued. When he offered the final threat to kill me, he didn't sound persuasive. When I refused again, he hesitated for a moment and then stuck the gun in his pocket and ran away."[3]

Hip: I had a roommate who was engaged. One day we were talking about his upcoming marriage, and someone asked, “What are the commitments you two think will help you stay strong?” His answer was, “Not keeping the law of chastity could destroy our relationship. So we decided that we wouldn’t do anything we would not feel comfortable doing in front of the bishop or our parents.” That still has an influence on me.

The principle of prior assurance and personal revelation lead me to a story that I feel impressed to share. I want to be very clear that this is a personal story, and just because it happened this way for me and my family does not mean that you will have the same experience. Rather, I hope the principles taught can be helpful to you in your life.

When we were engaged to be married, Bethany received a father's blessing. During that blessing, she felt a spiritual impression that she would have twins someday. She shared that experience with me, and I was excited at the thought. We both worked hard to align our wills with the Lord's and make use of the Atonement so that we would be worthy to receive this promised blessing. With our first pregnancy, I would not have been surprised if they said that we were going to have twins. We did not get twins but instead a healthy, beautiful girl: Lila (who is here with us today). Later, when Bethany was pregnant again, we wondered about twins. No twins. This time we had a beautiful, healthy boy: Ezra. During this pregnancy, Bethany started having some health complications. At this point, we were very happy with the family that we had; however, my wife and I knew that we would have twins someday. I couldn't help but wonder when that would be. When we found out we were expecting again, we thought for sure this would be twins. We went to the doctor and expected him to tell us that there were two babies that would come to us. This was not the case, but we did have another beautiful daughter: Madelyn, who taught me that powerful lesson about prayer. With increasingly difficult pregnancies, we wondered when or if these twins would be able to come to our family. In our fourth pregnancy, we thought surely this must be the twins coming. We went to the doctor again, somewhat anxious about what we would find out. As it turns out, we were again blessed with a beautiful baby girl: Sophia. I want to be clear that we were not disappointed in any of our pregnancies when we found out that it was only going to be one baby at a time. We were grateful and had powerful spiritual experiences with each pregnancy that the Lord wanted us to have these children at that specific time. It was very clear, and we did not doubt those experiences. However, my wife and I pondered about the impression about having twins. We talked and prayed many times to see, hear, or understand what the Lord would teach us. Up to this point, we didn't feel anything, except that we were on the Lord's path and were doing what He wanted us to do.

In May of last year, Bethany and I attended the Rexburg Temple. We both felt a powerful feeling from God that our family was not complete, and a longing and desire to have more children. We truly felt aligned with God's will, and we were willing to do whatever He wanted us to do. As we pondered and discussed what that meant, we both felt the impression that we should pray for the twins to come. We acted in faith and prayed many times and thought often about that impression. In September of last year, Bethany was pregnant, and we went to our first doctor appointment. As we sat in the office, the ultrasound tech said the heartbeat was good and things looked very normal. After a minute or two, she gasped and said, "I have to tell you something--there are two babies in there." Bethany and I looked at each other with such a feeling of love, comfort, and peace. God had sent us twins. Bethany had a very difficult pregnancy, including being on bedrest for several months. This was a hard time for both of us, but we felt so blessed by the Lord. I won't go into all the details here, but I will say that many miracles occurred as these special spirits came into our family. On a routine doctor visit, we had to go immediately to the hospital to deliver the twins. Of all the close calls and possible problems that could have happened, they came safely.

While they did have to spend a few weeks in the hospital, they are very healthy and happy girls. Penelope is shown on the left and Clementine on the right.

I don't mean to say that they were healthy because of something we did. That was a tender mercy. Of course it was completely out of our hands. Through the entire pregnancy, birth, and extended hospital stay, it was evident that we were not in control at all. This was what God wanted to happen, and we have learned that if we are willing to align ourselves with His will, then all will be well. That does not mean that everything will be easy, but it will be right. It will be just the right circumstances that our Heavenly Father will allow us to have so we can learn how to become like Him.

As you can tell from this photo, Bethany and I have a large family. We had six kids in six years. Having a large and young family has its challenges, to say the least, but Bethany and I have the children we do today because we followed what the Lord wanted us to do. And because we have done that, we are so very happy with the incredible blessings that we have been given.

I appreciate being taught by the example of my mother and father. Mother, for fifteen years, was a Relief Society president. After I received my driver’s license, she had me drive her to deliver the welfare supplies and care for the needy. Father would always have me polish the sacrament trays when I was a deacon, and we would bring them home and wash the sacrament cloths and honor the priesthood. When he was in the bishopric, he took care of the outside of the building; and we, as Aaronic Priesthood boys, assisted him.

This lesson I learned anew some years ago as I received a rather unique and frightening assignment. Folkman D. Brown, then the Director of Mormon Relationships for the Boy Scouts of America, came to my office, having learned that I was about to depart for a lengthy assignment to New Zealand. He told me of his widowed sister, Belva Jones, who had been stricken with terminal cancer, who knew not how to tell her only son—a missionary in that faraway country. Her wish, even her plea, was that he remain in the mission field and serve faithfully. She worried about his reaction; for the missionary, Elder Ryan Jones, had lost his father just a year earlier to the same dread disease.
I accepted the responsibility. Following a missionary meeting held adjacent to the majestically beautiful New Zealand Temple, I met privately with Elder Jones and, as gently as I could, explained the situation of his mother. Naturally there were tears—not all his—but then the handclasp of assurance and the pledge: “Tell my mother I will serve, I will pray, and I will see her again.”
I returned to Salt Lake City just in time to attend a conference of the Lost River Stake at Moore, Idaho. As I sat on the stand with the stake president, my attention was drawn almost instinctively to the east side of the chapel, where the morning sunlight bathed the lone occupant of a front bench. I said to the stake president, “Who is the sister upon whom the sunlight is resting? I feel I must speak to her today.” He replied, “Her name is Belva Jones. She has a missionary son in New Zealand. She is very ill and has requested a blessing.”
Prior to that moment, I had not known where Belva Jones lived. My assignment that weekend could have been to any one of 50 stakes. Yet the Lord, in His own way, had answered the prayer of faith of a concerned mother. We had a wonderful visit together. I reported word for word the reaction and the resolve of her son, Ryan. A blessing was provided, a prayer offered, a witness received. Belva Jones would live to see her son complete his mission. This privilege she enjoyed. Just one month prior to her passing, his mission completed, Ryan returned home.

Sarah watched everyone gathered around her baby sister, Hannah. The baby was wearing the lacy white dress that Grandma had made. It was so long that when Sarah first saw it, she thought it must be for her. But no, like everything else, it was for the baby.
The doorbell rang. Sarah’s face brightened when she saw Aunt Karen at the door. But then she saw the gift her aunt was holding.
“Another present for the baby,” Sarah thought. She slumped down on the sofa.
When Mom and Dad first told her there was going to be a new baby in the family, Sarah was excited. When Dad took her to the hospital to see her new baby sister, she was thrilled.
But now Sarah wasn’t so excited. Whenever she wanted Mom to help her with something, Mom was taking care of the baby. Everyone wanted to see the baby and hold the baby.
Sarah frowned. It wasn’t fair. No one noticed her anymore. Now Aunt Karen was talking to the baby in a silly, babyish voice.
“She doesn’t know what you’re saying,” Sarah muttered.
“You were sitting so quietly that I didn’t even see you,” Aunt Karen said.
“I always have to be quiet, or I’ll wake up the baby,” Sarah complained.
Aunt Karen sat down by Sarah. “It’s not always easy being the big sister, is it?”
Sarah shook her head.
Aunt Karen handed Sarah the present she was holding. “I brought something for you.”
Sarah’s eyes opened wide. “For me?” she asked.
“It sure is,” Aunt Karen said.
Sarah pulled the ribbons off the package, tore off the paper, and lifted the lid off the box. Inside she found a hair bow, a coloring book, and a pink shirt with glittery letters.
“What does it say?” Sarah asked, holding up the shirt.
“It says, ‘I’m the big sister,’” Aunt Karen said. “I have one for Hannah that says, ‘I’m the baby sister.’”
Sarah gave Aunt Karen a big hug. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re the best aunt.”
“I’m also a pretty good big sister,” Aunt Karen said.
“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.
“When I was about your age, my mom had a baby,” Aunt Karen explained. “And do you know who that baby was?”
Sarah shook her head.
“Your mom.”
“Really?” Sarah said.
“It’s true,” Aunt Karen said. “Most of the time I liked being a big sister, but sometimes I felt like the baby was getting all the attention, and I didn’t like that.”
“I feel that way too,” Sarah admitted. She picked up her new hair bow and coloring book. “All the other presents are for Hannah.”
“That’s not true,” Aunt Karen said. “Your mom and dad gave you a great present.”
Sarah was puzzled. “What did they give me?”
“They gave you a baby sister,” Aunt Karen said. “My baby sister was the best gift I ever had, until I got a wonderful niece.”
Sarah giggled. “I’m not just a wonderful niece,” she said. “I’m also a pretty good big sister.”

Sarah Farr Smith was washing the dishes after the family’s midday meal, when she heard a firm knock at the back door of her home in Salt Lake City. When she opened the door, she saw a poor but tidy-looking gentleman standing on her porch. Although she didn’t know the man, he was very polite, and she invited him in for something to eat.
While he was eating, the man suddenly asked where Sarah’s young son George Albert was. She said that he was outside playing in the yard. The man then asked Sarah to call him into the house. Although she didn’t understand why, something told her to do what the man had asked. She went outside and found her son playing beneath a balcony of a two-story building next door.
As Sarah came back into the house with the boy, she heard a loud crash. Rushing back outside, she was horrified to see that the balcony under which he had just been playing had collapsed, sending large beams and pieces of lumber crashing down onto the toys that had been left there just moments earlier.
Sarah was very grateful and humbled for what she felt was Heavenly Father’s help in saving her son’s life. She decided then that George Albert must have an important mission to perform on earth and that God would help her watch over him.