Gospel Story Finder

On a recent Saturday, I invited my friend Mandy to come with me to a Primary activity. She had never been to our church before, and she had a good time. She met new friends, and we learned about traffic safety and the eleventh article of faith.

After the activity, we went bike riding in our neighborhood. When we rode around the back of the nearby apartment complex, we saw an elderly woman lying on the ground at the foot of the stairs. Her hand was cut, and she wasn’t moving! It looked like she had fallen while going up the stairs to a second-story apartment. We raced our bikes back to my house to get my mom and dad.

“Dad! Mom! A woman fell, and she’s not moving! And there’s blood!”

My parents ran to help, and Mandy and I rode our bikes. When we all got back to her, the woman—Mrs. Sumner—could speak but was a little confused. We introduced ourselves and made sure that she hadn’t broken any bones. Then my mom and my dad helped her to stand up and climb the stairs to her apartment. She said that she would call the doctor about her hand.

Mom told us later that it was a good thing that we were out riding our bikes and saw Mrs. Sumner and went for help, or she might have lain there for a long time. Mrs. Sumner is eighty-five years old. She lives alone, and sometimes has trouble getting around.

The next day my dad and I went to see how she was doing, and later Mandy and I took her some apples that we had picked.

Now Mrs. Sumner is our friend, and she has invited us to visit whenever we want. Sometimes she gives us cookies, and once she gave us each a little ceramic angel she had made. She told Mandy and me that we are her “little angels.”

In our family home evening, we talked about the Good Samaritan and how Jesus Christ wants us to help our neighbors when they are in trouble. I am glad that Mandy and I could be Good Samaritans, especially because now we have a new friend!

“Come on, Sam,” Jeremy said as he walked along the old dusty roadbed with his friends. “Nobody will know but us.”
Lagging behind the group, I thought about the conversation Jeremy and I had had that morning. He had told me about his plan to steal watermelons from Brother Vargas. I knew stealing was wrong, but I thought if I did what he wanted, we would be friends. So when he had finished talking, I told a lie. “I know all about stealing. It’s easy. I’ve done it before.”
“You have!” he had exclaimed, looking surprised. “Wait until I tell the other guys.” After he had told everyone in the group, they looked at me with renewed interest. I liked that, but now I was in trouble. I didn’t want to steal anything, especially Brother Vargas’s prize watermelons.
Brother Vargas was as old as my grandpa, but he had been my only friend when we first moved to Fawn Creek. He knew I was lonely and needed a friend. And I knew that the money from his melon field made up most of the income he and Sister Vargas lived on.
“Hurry up, Sam,” one of the kids called over his shoulder. “Brother Vargas will be back soon to pick up another load of melons. If we don’t get to his field before he does, we’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”
Oh, well, I thought, walking faster, I need friends my own age. Jeremy’s in my Primary class and my Scout troop, and all the guys like him. If we become friends, I’ll have a lot of guys to hang around with. Besides, Mom thinks he’s a good friend. So did I—until now.
When I caught up to Jeremy, he began making plans. “Clint, you be the lookout. If anyone comes, whistle. Brett, you take Sam and head for the nearest row of melons. Jeff and I will be right behind you. Remember, we won’t have much time, so don’t be too choosy. Just get the biggest ones you can carry.”
“Yeah,” Clint agreed, licking his lips. “We already know how good they taste.”
“What if we get caught?” I asked.
“Getting nervous?” Brett questioned.
“Not me,” I lied for the second time in a half hour. “You’re right; we’d better hurry.”
The real reason I wanted to hurry had nothing to do with taking melons. The truth was, I didn’t want to see the way Brother Vargas would look at me if he caught me robbing him. We were friends, and true friends take care of each other. I was starting to feel awful.
“Don’t worry, Sam,” Jeremy said. “No one will find out.”
How did I get into this situation? I wondered. I needed someone to blame. So I blamed Mom. It’s her fault we moved after Dad died.
“Yeah, sure,” I muttered under my breath. “And look at what you’re doing.” I knew why Mom had sold the house. She didn’t want to go to work and leave me home alone. She’d loved that old house, and I knew she didn’t want to move away from her friends any more than I did.
“Sam, you’re dragging your feet again,” Jeremy said.
“Yeah, I know,” I said, as I sent a rock flying across the road with the side of my foot.
When we finally reached Brother Vargas’s melon field, I knew I had made the worst decision of my life. But I didn’t know how to get out of it. Then the words to a song we were learning in Primary popped into my head. I began to sing softly:
“Choose the right when a choice is placed before you. In the right the Holy Spirit guides; And its light is forever shining o’er you, When in the right your heart confides” (“Choose the Right,” Hymns, number 239).
When I got to the chorus, all the boys began to sing with me. When we finished, I knew I had to say something. “We can’t do this!” I declared looking first at the guys and then at the melon field. “This just isn’t right.”
“But you said you’ve stolen things before,” Jeremy said accusingly.
“That was a lie,” I admitted. “I’ve never stolen anything in my whole life, and I don’t want to start now.”
“Neither do I,” Clint said, walking over to stand next to me.
Surprised, I turned to Clint. “I thought you had stolen before. You even said you knew how good Brother Vargas’s melons are.”
“We lied, too,” Brett admitted. “Brother Vargas gives my family watermelons from his field every year.”
“Yeah, and they sure are good!” Jeff said, almost drooling. “He gives melons to anyone who wants them.”
“Then why were we going to steal them?” I asked, almost shouting.
“We thought it would be fun,” Clint said as he dug the point of his shoe into the loose dirt.
“Yeah,” Jeremy agreed, his voice a whisper. “But it sure doesn’t seem like fun now.”
When Brother Vargas drove up, we were sitting in the shade of the big metal shed still talking about his watermelons.
“Hi, boys,” he called. “It’s good to see you. I could sure use your help putting another load of melons on the truck.”
Feeling a little guilty, we asked him how we should do it so we wouldn’t damage the melons. Two hours later, after the truck was loaded, he offered us jobs for the rest of the summer. Then he said, “Each of you take a watermelon home to your families.”
“My family is going to love this!” Brett said excitedly. “Just yesterday Dad said his mouth was watering for a taste of Brother Vargas’s melons.”
“Mine, too,” Clint said with a big grin.
After Jeff, Clint, and Brett headed for home, only Jeremy and I were left.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I guess I just got carried away.”
“I’m sorry, too, Jeremy. I’m glad we finally made the right decision.”
Jeremy’s whole face lit up. “So am I! Now we can eat watermelon without feeling bad—and we have jobs, too! It doesn’t get much better than that!”

“So, Christopher, what did you do in Primary today?” Dad asked after church.
“We talked about being honest,” Christopher answered. “And we worked on the Articles of Faith. I have all but the thirteenth memorized.”
“Good for you!” Dad said. “Mom and I are really pleased that you’re learning them.” He looked at Sarah. “What did you do today, honey?”
“We ate crackers, and we sang songs, and I colored this picture for you.”
“It’s beautiful, Sarah. Thank you.” Dad pulled his keys out of his pocket, unlocked the car, and opened the door. “Get yourselves strapped in. Mom will be here soon.”
“Why do I have to wear a seat belt?” Christopher asked as he and Sarah buckled up.
Before Dad could answer, Sarah added, “Why do I have to sit in a car seat? I’m not a baby.”
Dad smiled. “There are two reasons. First, we use seat belts and car seats because they will protect us if we are in an accident. Second, we do it because it’s the law and we obey the law.”
“I know lots of people who don’t wear seat belts,” Christopher protested.
“Whether to wear a seat belt or not is each person’s own choice, but they have to live with the consequences,” Dad explained. “That’s part of Heavenly Father’s plan.”
“Oh, Dad,” Christopher laughed. “Heavenly Father doesn’t care about seat belts.”
“Or car seats,” Sarah chimed in.
“You don’t think so?” Dad asked. “Christopher, let me hear you say the twelfth article of faith.”
“‘We believe in being subject to kings, presidents, rulers, and magistrates, in obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law.’”
“Very good. Now, what does it mean?”
“It means that we believe it’s OK to have a president or a king or something like that—right?”
“That’s part of it,” Dad said, “but it also means that we believe in obeying the laws set by the president or king or whoever is in the government. And I believe that that applies to laws about seat belts and car seats.”
Just then Mom came. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said. “We can go now.”
“Not until you fasten your seat belt,” Sarah told her.
“It’s the law, you know,” Christopher added, “and we believe in obeying the law.”

For a first profile, I mention Jose Garcia from Old Mexico. Born in poverty but nurtured in faith, Jose prepared for a mission call. I was present the day his recommendation was received. There appeared the statement: “Brother Garcia will serve at great sacrifice to his family, for he is the means of much of the family support. He has but one possession—a treasured stamp collection—which he is willing to sell, if necessary, to help finance his mission.”
President Kimball listened attentively as this statement was read to him, and then he responded: “Have him sell his stamp collection. Such sacrifice will be to him a blessing.” Then, with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face, this loving prophet said, “Each month at Church headquarters we receive thousands of letters from all parts of the world. See that we save these stamps and provide them to Jose at the conclusion of his mission. He will have, without cost, the finest stamp collection of any young man in Mexico.”

This very Tabernacle was the scene for such a faith-inspired miracle. It occurred several years ago at general conference time. During the session when I was assigned to speak, my attention was drawn constantly to a little blond-haired girl seated on the first row in the balcony. The more I looked at her, the less I felt inclined to present the formal message I had prepared. I yielded to the inspiration 1 felt and spoke rather about the faith of a girl in far away Louisiana, Christian Methvin. I directed my remarks to my young friend in the balcony.

Upon returning to my office, I found waiting for me this same young lady and also her grandmother. The young girl’s name, Misti White. Her home, California. Here is her story. She began: “I have had a problem, Brother Monson, but not any longer. A person very dear to me told me to wait until I was 18 to be baptized. My grandmother said I should be baptized now. I prayed for an answer and said to grandmother, ‘Take me with you to conference. There Jesus will help me.’”

To conference they came, and so did divine help. Eagerly Misti took my hand and exclaimed, “You helped Him answer my prayer. Thank you.”

Upon returning to California, Misti sent me a treasured letter, with this beautiful ending: “Brother Monson, I was baptized on November 29th. I am now very happy. Love, Misti.” Faith does precede the miracle.

Tori felt like a brilliant scientist in a laboratory. Today her class was looking at cells with a microscope! She watched Mr. Koch place thin slices of onion onto slides. Tori really wanted to see a nucleus, the cell’s control center.
“Each lab group, send one person to get a slide for your microscope,” Mr. Koch said. “Please be careful. These slides are glass, so they’re fragile. If you break one, you’ll have to pay for it.”
Tori went up to Mr. Koch’s desk and picked up a thin slide in both hands. She walked back to her table, trying not to get smudges on it. In the center she could just barely see the sliver of onion, almost as clear as the glass.
Tori pushed the slide into the microscope’s clips and flipped the light switch. But the microscope stayed dark.
“Oops,” said her lab partner, Michael. “We forgot to plug it in.” He pulled the microscope over to an outlet.
But Michael bumped the slide, and it slipped right out of the clips and onto the floor. Crack! The slide cracked straight down the middle.
Michael grabbed the slide and set it back on the microscope like nothing had happened. He turned the light on and started adjusting the focus. Tori wasn’t sure what to do, so she just sat and looked at their assignment. Her excitement about seeing a nucleus was gone.
After a few minutes Michael whispered, “Tori, will you back me up and tell Mr. Koch our slide was cracked when we got it?”
Tori felt her chest get tight. Of course she knew that was the wrong thing to do, but she didn’t want Michael to get in trouble. She thought about what Jesus would do. Then she said, “I don’t think we should lie about that. But I’ll help you talk to Mr. Koch. It’ll be OK.”
Michael cleared his throat. “OK.” He looked back at the slide. “I don’t have enough money to pay for it, though. What should I do?”
“Just tell the truth,” said Tori. She didn’t feel nervous anymore. She knew they could do the right thing.
Michael took a deep breath and raised his hand. “I need to tell you something, Mr. Koch.” Tori gave Michael an encouraging smile as their teacher walked over.
“I accidentally knocked the slide onto the floor, and it cracked,” Michael said.
“May I see the slide?” Mr. Koch asked calmly. He looked at it closely and then said, “Michael, thank you for telling the truth. You don’t need to pay for it. Just try to be more careful next time.”
“Whew, thanks!” said Michael.
With a new slide, Tori and Michael looked at the onion cells. Tori found a perfect nucleus and drew it in her notebook. She was glad she’d made the right decision. And she’d helped Michael make a good decision too. What a relief.
As they packed up their equipment, Michael said, “Thanks for helping me tell the truth.”
Tori smiled. “Anytime.”

My dear brothers and sisters, my dear friends: During my professional life as an airline pilot, I sometimes had passengers visit the cockpit of my Boeing 747. They asked about the many switches, instruments, systems, and procedures and how all this technical equipment would help such a huge and beautiful airplane fly.
As with all pilots, I enjoyed the fact that they were impressed by the apparent complexity of this plane and that they wondered what kind of magnificent and brilliant person it takes to operate it! At this point of my story, my wife and children would kindly interrupt and say with a twinkling in their eyes, “Pilots are born with a great measure of natural humility!”
To the visitors in my cockpit, I would explain that it takes a great aerodynamic design, many auxiliary systems and programs, and powerful engines to make this flying machine equal to the task of bringing comfort and safety to those joining the flight.
To simplify my explanation by focusing on the basics, I would add that all you really need is a strong forward thrust, a powerful upward lift, and the right aircraft attitude, and the laws of nature will carry the 747 and its passengers safely across continents and oceans, over high mountains and dangerous thunderstorms to its destination.
In recent years I have often contemplated that being a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints invites us to ask similar questions. What are the basics, the fundamental principles of our membership in the kingdom of God on earth? After all is said and done, what will really carry us at times of greatest need to our desired eternal destination?
The Church, with all its organizational structure and programs, offers many important activities for its members aimed at helping families and individuals to serve God and each other. Sometimes, however, it can appear that these programs and activities are closer to the center of our heart and soul than the core doctrines and principles of the gospel. Procedures, programs, policies, and patterns of organization are helpful for our spiritual progress here on earth, but let’s not forget that they are subject to change.
In contrast, the core of the gospel—the doctrine and the principles—will never change. Living according to the basic gospel principles will bring power, strength, and spiritual self-reliance into the lives of all Latter-day Saints.
Faith is such a principle of power. We need this source of power in our lives. God works by power, but this power is usually exercised in response to our faith. “Faith without works is dead” (James 2:20). God works according to the faith of His children.
The Prophet Joseph Smith explained, “I teach them correct principles, and they govern themselves” (quoted by John Taylor, in “The Organization of the Church,” Millennial Star, Nov. 15, 1851, 339). To me, this teaching is beautifully straightforward. As we strive to understand, internalize, and live correct gospel principles, we will become more spiritually self-reliant. The principle of spiritual self-reliance grows out of a fundamental doctrine of the Church that God has granted us—agency. I believe that moral agency is one of the greatest gifts of God unto His children, next to life itself.
When I study and ponder moral agency and its eternal consequences, I realize that we are truly spirit children of God and therefore should act accordingly. This understanding also reminds me that as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we are part of a great worldwide family of Saints.
The organizational structure of the Church allows great flexibility according to the size, growth pattern, and needs of our congregations. There is the basic unit program with a very simple organizational structure and fewer meetings. We also have large wards with great organizational resources to serve one another. All are established within the inspired programs of the Church to help members “come unto Christ, and be perfected in him” (Moroni 10:32).
All these varied options are equal in divine value because the doctrine of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ is the same in each unit. I testify as an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ that He lives, that the gospel is true, and that it offers the answers to all personal and collective challenges the children of God have on this earth today.
This summer my wife and I visited with members of the Church in many countries throughout Europe. In some parts of Europe the Church has been present for many years, even since 1837. There is a great heritage of faithful members in Europe. Currently we have more than 400,000 members in Europe. As we look at all the generations who have emigrated from Europe to America during the 19th and 20th centuries, that total number could easily be multiplied a few times.
Why did so many faithful members leave their home countries in those early days of the Church? Many reasons can be named: to escape persecution, to help build the Church in America, to improve their economic circumstances, the desire to be close to a temple, and many more.
Europe still feels the consequence of this exodus. But the strength that comes from several faithful generations of Church members is now becoming more apparent. We see more young men and women and more senior couples serve missions for the Lord; we see more temple marriages; we see more confidence and courage by the members to share the restored gospel. Among the peoples of Europe and many other parts of the world, there is a spiritual vacuum of Christ’s true teachings. This vacuum must, can, and will be filled with the message of the restored gospel as our wonderful members live and proclaim this gospel with greater courage and faith.
With the expansion of the Church in Europe, there are now countries where the Church has been for less than 15 years. I spoke with a mission president serving in his homeland of Russia who has been a member for only seven years. He told me, “The same month I was baptized I was called as a branch president.” Did he feel overwhelmed at times? Absolutely! Did he try to implement the full range of Church programs? Fortunately not! How did he grow so strong in such a small congregation in such a short time? He explained, “I knew with all my soul the Church was true. The doctrine of the gospel filled my mind and my heart. As we joined the Church, we felt part of a family. We felt warmth, trust, and love. We were only few, but we all tried to follow the Savior.”
They supported each other, they did the best they could, and they knew the Church was true. It was not the organization that had attracted him, but the light of the gospel, and this light strengthened those good members.
In many countries the Church is still in its beginnings, and the organizational circumstances are sometimes far from perfect. However, the members may have a perfect testimony of the truth in their hearts. As the members will stay in their countries and build the Church, despite economic challenges and hardships, future generations will be grateful to those courageous modern-day pioneers. They abide by the loving invitation of the First Presidency given in 1999:
“In our day, the Lord has seen fit to provide the blessings of the gospel, including an increased number of temples, in many parts of the world. Therefore, we wish to reiterate the long-standing counsel to members of the Church to remain in their homelands rather than immigrate to the United States. …
“As members throughout the world remain in their homelands, working to build the Church in their native countries, great blessings will come to them personally and to the Church collectively” (First Presidency letter, Dec. 1, 1999).
May I add a word of caution to those of us who live in large wards and stakes. We have to be careful that the center of our testimony is not located in the social dimension of the Church community or the wonderful activities, programs, and organizations of our wards and stakes. All of these things are important and valuable to have, but they are not enough. Even friendship is not enough.
We recognize that we are living in a time of turmoil, disaster, and war. We and many others feel strongly the great need for a “defense, and for a refuge from the storm, and from wrath when it shall be poured out without mixture upon the whole earth” (D&C 115:6). How do we find such a place of safety? The prophet of God, even President Hinckley, has taught: “Our safety lies in the virtue of our lives. Our strength lies in our righteousness” (in Conference Report, Oct. 2001, 112; or Ensign, Nov. 2001, 90).
Recall with me how Jesus Christ instructed His Apostles, clearly and directly, at the beginning of His mortal ministry, “[Come,] follow me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Matthew 4:19). This was also the beginning of the ministry of the Twelve Apostles, and I suspect that they had a feeling of inadequacy, as I deeply have, being one who has also been called to this sacred work. May I suggest that the Savior Himself teaches us here a lesson about core doctrine and priorities in life. Individually, we need to first “follow Him,” and as we do this, the Savior will bless us beyond our own capacity to become what He wants us to be.
To follow Christ is to become more like Him. It is to learn from His character. As spirit children of our Heavenly Father, we do have the potential to incorporate Christlike attributes into our life and character. The Savior invites us to learn His gospel by living His teachings. To follow Him is to apply correct principles and then witness for ourselves the blessings that follow. This process is very complex and very simple at the same time. Ancient and modern prophets described it with three words: “Keep the commandments”—nothing more, nothing less.
Developing Christlike attributes in our lives is not an easy task, especially when we move away from generalities and abstractions and begin to deal with real life. The test comes in practicing what we proclaim. The reality check comes when Christlike attributes need to become visible in our lives—as husband or wife, as father or mother, as son or daughter, in our friendships, in our employment, in our business, and in our recreation. We can recognize our growth, as can those around us, as we gradually increase our capacity to “act in all holiness before [Him]” (D&C 43:9).
The scriptures describe a number of Christlike attributes we need to develop during the course of our lives. They include knowledge and humility, charity and love, obedience and diligence, faith and hope. These personal character qualities stand independent of the organizational status of our Church unit, our economic circumstances, our family situation, culture, race, or language. Christlike attributes are gifts from God. They cannot be developed without His help. The one help we all need is given to us freely through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Having faith in Jesus Christ and in His Atonement means relying completely on Him—trusting in His infinite power, intelligence, and love. Christlike attributes come into our lives as we exercise our agency righteously. Faith in Jesus Christ leads to action. When we have faith in Christ, we trust the Lord enough to follow His commandments—even when we do not completely understand the reasons for them. In seeking to become more like the Savior, we need to reevaluate our lives regularly and rely, through the path of true repentance, upon the merits of Jesus Christ and the blessings of His Atonement.
Developing Christlike attributes can be a painful process. We need to be ready to accept direction and correction from the Lord and His servants. This worldwide conference with its music and spoken word offers spiritual power, direction, and blessings “from on high” (D&C 43:16). It is a time when the voice of personal inspiration and revelation will bring peace to our souls and will teach us how to become more Christlike. This voice will be as sweet as the voice of a dear friend, and it will fill our souls when our hearts are sufficiently contrite.
By becoming more like the Savior, we will grow in our ability to “abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost” (Romans 15:13). We will “lay aside the things of this world, and seek for the things of a better” (D&C 25:10).
This leads me back to my aerodynamic analogy from the beginning. I spoke of focusing on the basics. Christlike attributes are the basics. They are the fundamental principles that will create “the wind beneath our wings.” As we develop Christlike attributes in our own lives, step-by-step, they will “bear [us] up as on eagles’ wings” (D&C 124:18). Our faith in Jesus Christ will provide power and a strong forward thrust; our unwavering and active hope will provide a powerful upward lift. Both faith and hope will carry us across oceans of temptations, over mountains of afflictions, and bring us safely back to our eternal home and destination.
Of this I testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I was just a little girl when my ward gathered in the chapel to break a fast with prayer. The collective faith and pleading were in behalf of a young woman with cancer, and the fast provoked an outpouring of prolonged love and support shown to the woman and her family by a chapel full of praying Saints. The young woman passed away—but not before she had been wrapped in a warm blanket of love and service by disciples of Jesus Christ.
Looking back on that experience, I realize that I learned something of the power of fasting and prayer that had nothing to do with God healing the young woman of cancer.
In the case of the young woman in my ward, fasting produced an army of inspired Saints to comfort and serve her. I have summer-evening memories of my cheery, compassionate mom walking down the street to visit with the family often. We took nutritious meals and shared books and movies. I know that my mother was guided in how to help, as were many others. To be healed was not God’s will for the person in this case, but for her to be sustained with love was.

When I received the calling to serve as the student activities leader, I felt completely overwhelmed. I was shy and knew it would be difficult for me to plan activities. Feelings of inadequacy, nervousness, and depression consumed me.
In desperation I turned to Heavenly Father. “How can I do this?” I prayed. “I am small and weak.”
Right then, a peaceful, small whisper entered my heart: “Go, my daughter. I love you.”
That response from a loving Father strengthened me. Empowered by that prompting, I felt I could do anything. Knowing that He is aware of me, that He loves me, and that He will sustain me was all I needed to fulfill my calling effectively.
I know that whatever our struggles, Heavenly Father loves us and hears our prayers. As we go to Him, we can receive direction and encouragement as we strive to fulfill our callings.

I once asked Dad if I would see an angel. He said that he didn’t know, but he hoped so. “They’re all around us, you know.”
Well, I saw one last Sunday, I think.
Before I tell you about it, though, I need to explain something. Sometimes Sundays are hard for me. I don’t understand much of what happens in sacrament meetings, and since my feet don’t touch the floor, my legs hurt from hanging over the bench. I think that parents ought to sit on giant chairs every week, dangling their legs above the ground while listening to someone speaking in a foreign language, so that they understand what it’s like.
Last Sunday was hard. Sacrament meeting had seemed extra long, and the baby behind us cried a lot. By the time I got to Sharing Time, I just wanted to go home to my pet caterpillar, Zipper. Jimmy Pasko and Fred Grey didn’t help, either. They kept talking to me about the movie they had seen on Saturday. It sounded a lot more interesting than Sharing Time.
I kept moving around on my chair, trying to get my legs to quit hurting. Finally I leaned my chair back against the wall and stretched my arms. It was an accident, but I hit the light switch, and all the lights turned off. A lot of the kids laughed. I quickly turned them back on. Then, for some reason, I flipped them off again—but that time it was on purpose.
That’s when the angel came,
I didn’t think she was an angel at first. She looked more like an upset Sister Eisen of the Primary presidency. She came from the front of the room, staring at me with wide blue eyes. She looked like Mom does when she has a headache and I’m pestering her.
Sister Eisen bent down and whispered, “Dan, let’s go outside for a moment.”
I thought that she would talk to me about being reverent and threaten to get my parents if I didn’t behave. But instead, after we left the room, she calmly asked, “Dan, how are you doing?”
I didn’t feel safe, so I shrugged my shoulders.
“Having a hard time today?” she asked then, still calm.
Feeling safer, I said, “I hate it in there. Sometimes I just hate Primary.” After I said it, I thought I had made a mistake. I was sure that she would talk to me about my attitude.
But she surprised me. She said, “Tell me why you hate it.”
I thought for a moment, then decided to tell her the complete truth. “My legs hurt from dangling over the seat in sacrament meeting, I didn’t understand what the speakers said, my chair is hard, it’s hot and noisy in the Primary room, I’m tired of sitting, Jimmy and Fred keep talking to me, and I wish I were somewhere else.”
Then she said, half smiling, “I know. Sometimes I wish that I were somewhere else too. So, what do you need to do, Dan?”
“I just need to walk around.”
“Do you need a drink?”
I thought for a second, then said, “No, not now. Just a walk.”
“How far?”
“Just to the end of the hall.”
She said, “OK. May I walk with you?”
“Sure,” I said. We started walking, but I stopped. I looked at her and said, “Sometimes you hate it here too?”
“Well,” she answered, “let’s say that sometimes I have a hard time being here.”
“Then why are you here? You’re a grown-up. No one makes you come.”
“Because,” she said, “it’s OK to do something we don’t like, especially when we know that it’s right.”
“What do you mean?”
She looked at me for a moment. “Dan, do you remember what happened at the end of Jesus’ life?”
“You mean when they nailed Him on the cross?”
“Yes. And even before that do you remember when He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane and it was so painful that He bled from every pore?”
I told her I remembered that and also that they whipped Him and made fun of Him.
She then said, “You know, I don’t think that He liked doing any of those things. But He did it because He loved us and He knew that it was right. Did you know that He even asked Heavenly Father if there wasn’t another way?”
She paused, putting her hand on my shoulder. “So I figure that if He didn’t like doing hard things that were right, it’s OK if I don’t like doing hard things that are right. And it’s OK if you don’t like doing hard things, like being reverent in Sharing Time when you’re hot and tired.”
I noticed as she was talking that she kept putting her fingers on the side of her head. So I asked, “Is it hard for you today?”
“Yes,” she said. “I have a bad headache.”
I stood there for a moment, feeling very different than I had ever felt about Primary. I looked at Sister Eisen and said, “I don’t think I need to walk any farther. I can go back in now.”
She told me that she was glad, and we returned. Before we went in, she said, “You know, Dan, I really like you.”
I told her that most people did after they knew me.
She went to the front of the Primary room, and I sat down in my chair. After she sat down, she looked at me and smiled. Then she touched her fingers to both sides of her head, like Mom does when she has a headache, and winked.
Although my chair still felt hard, the room was still too hot, and Jimmy and Fred still kept trying to talk to me, I didn’t mind so much. I wondered as I watched Sister Eisen if Dad had been talking about her when he said that angels are all around us. I think I’ll tell him that I saw one last Sunday—and that she had a headache.

Several years after the difficult trial the Alvarez family faced, I witnessed how another faithful family dealt with great adversity. Several members of the Quero family had died in a terrible car accident. Brother Abraham Quero lost his parents, two sisters, his brother-in-law, and his niece in that accident.
Brother Quero showed an admirable attitude when he said the following:
“This was the time to show loyalty to God and to acknowledge that we depend on Him, that His will must be obeyed, and that we are subject to Him.
“I spoke to my brothers and gave them strength and courage to understand what President Kimball taught many years ago, that ‘there is no tragedy in death, but only in sin’ (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Spencer W. Kimball [Melchizedek Priesthood and Relief Society course of study, 2006], 18) and that the important thing is not how a man died but how he lived.
“The words of Job filled my soul: ‘The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord’ (Job 1:21). And then from Jesus: ‘I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live’ (John 11:25).
“This was one of the most spiritual experiences we had as a family—to accept the will of God under such very difficult circumstances.”
In both of the experiences that these good families endured, pain and sorrow left because of the light of the gospel, which filled them with peace and comfort, providing the assurance that everything would be well.

Photographs by Cody Bell and courtesy of Sydney G.
For an entire week, Sydney G., 14, from Utah, USA, visibly carried a copy of the Book of Mormon everywhere she went—to school, to her extracurricular activities, and to church. She was prayerfully trying to find someone to share the gospel with, and keeping the Book of Mormon out with her was a constant reminder of that goal.
One day, she went to the office at school and accidentally left the book there. Without even opening the cover, the office secretary knew immediately whose it was. That week, Sydney had become known at her school for carrying that Book of Mormon with her. And throughout her life, she’s become known for many other things as well.
For instance, she participates in student council. She dances for her school’s dance company. She was the lead in an Alice in Wonderland musical. She volunteers for a service group. She cheers. She crafts. She loves to spend time with her friends and family.
She’s also a strong advocate of type 1 diabetes awareness and research.
When Sydney was three, her parents noticed changes in her behavior. Among other things, she was extremely thirsty, moody, and fatigued. One day she slept for 22 hours, waking up only for moments before falling back asleep. Her parents knew something was wrong and took her to a doctor the next morning. The doctor said she was on the verge of a diabetic coma and was lucky she came in that day. Sydney and her parents now recognize that the timing was more than luck; it was a blessing.
Sydney’s diagnosis flipped her life upside down, but that hasn’t stopped her from living a life that gives back to others. Despite her age, Sydney is a leader, role model, and friend as she works to help promote diabetes awareness.
What Is Type 1 Diabetes?
Type 1 diabetes is a disease in which the pancreas produces little or no insulin, the hormone that converts glucose into energy. To treat this, people with type 1 diabetes take insulin every time they eat to help their bodies get the energy they need.
If left untreated, diabetes can have serious complications. It’s important to recognize the symptoms and be treated as early as possible. Type 1 diabetes requires constant care and vigilance throughout a person’s entire life.
In 2015, Sydney and her family participated in a fundraising managed by JDRF, an organization that helps fund research for type 1 diabetes. After the walk, Sydney wanted to keep helping. She says, “I was super excited to get out and do stuff, and I wanted to inform people of the symptoms of type 1 diabetes so they would know to get tested.” To do this, she and her mom created a social media page to promote awareness. Their first post included pictures of the walk, and they’ve continued with regular posts debunking myths about diabetes, promoting fundraisers, and showcasing diabetes-related events and activities Sydney participates in.
Sydney knows the impact youth can have in their communities, and she hopes to keep helping those around her. “Young people can make a huge difference,” she says, “and it’s good for them! They get to get out and help the community. It’s just good for the soul.”
She’s already seen some positive results from her efforts. One day, soon after they started the page, Sydney’s mom felt prompted to post Sydney’s diagnosis story. A woman in their neighborhood read the post and then, two days later, recognized the symptoms in her own daughter. As a result of a prompting, this five-year-old girl was able to receive an early diagnosis and get the medical attention she needed.
Sydney knows it’s important to have friends during times of trial, and she always strives to be that friend for people in times of need. When she heard of another young girl in the community who was just diagnosed with type 1 diabetes, Sydney immediately reached out and met with her. The girl’s mother later told Sydney about the great influence she had on her daughter. The daughter had felt alone in her trial because no one else she knew had diabetes. But immediately after Sydney’s visit, she had a friend, and that made all the difference.
Sydney also recognizes the importance of friendship in her own life and strives to include and love others. When she was about to turn 12, she was “probably more excited than anyone to go to the temple for the first time.” So for her birthday party, she invited some friends over to eat a formal dinner and then go to the temple to do baptisms and confirmations on behalf of those who have died. One of her close friends, Lindsay,* wasn’t a member of the Church, but Sydney still wanted to include her. So Sydney invited Lindsay to the birthday dinner with them and explained why the temple was so important to her.
Remember that Book of Mormon that Sydney carried around with her? She felt prompted to give it to Lindsay with her testimony. Though Lindsay respectfully said she didn’t believe in the book, Sydney didn’t focus on the rejection. Instead, Sydney just appreciated the opportunity she had to share her testimony with someone she cares about.
Though she sometimes feels discouraged, Sydney tries to stay positive and move forward in her goal to help others. She says, “I think it’s important to just keep going if you’re having a trial. It helps to focus on something positive. Like, if you fall off your bike, you just get back up and keep going, and soon you’ll forget you even fell off in the first place.”
Every day, Sydney chooses to focus on the positive of her situation by striving to be a leader in her community and a friend to those who need one. She’s learned that the smallest decisions—like deciding one day to go to a fundraiser walk with her family—can make a big difference.

When Russell got home from his mission he was excited to get a cell phone. He had used one before but without the games, cameras, and text messaging capabilities. On one of the first weekends after his return, he was asked to help out at a neighborhood garage sale. As people wandered among the various items spread out on the lawn, Russell played with his new cell phone and began texting a friend about how much he missed his mission. Suddenly, he noticed a lady who appeared a little confused as she looked at several of the items. He put his cell phone away and approached her. He soon discovered she was new in the area and spoke Spanish but little English. Having served in Spain, he delighted her by speaking Spanish. Before long, he had not only helped her pick out a few items, but he had also taken her name and address with the intent of sending the missionaries.

Russell says, “Here I was texting my friend about how much I missed my mission, and I almost let a missionary opportunity pass me by. When I put the cell phone away, I actually ended up getting a missionary referral. I was happy to have my new cell phone, and texting my friend was fun, but nothing made me happier than getting this referral for the missionaries.”

“In speaking of my father, who is now in his eighties, I would have to say that he is one of the most brilliant men I have ever known. He is a strong-willed man who can do anything he puts his mind to. A repairman was never called to our home because Father fixed everything. Father always emphasized the importance of work, and he always had chores available for me to do. When I was ten and eleven, I swept floors at my father’s automobile agency, where there was usually more work than I could get done. I used to think Father was a little tough on me, but looking back now, I believe the hard work was a great blessing.
“My mother is the oldest daughter of Hyrum Mack Smith, who was the oldest son of Joseph F. Smith, the sixth president of the Church. Both of my grandfathers were apostles. Hyrum Mack Smith died when he was only forty-four years old, and Grandmother Smith, my mother’s mother, passed away a year later. I never knew either one.
“Mother is a very soft, sweet, tenderhearted person. She has always been a good listener. I think that during my growing up years she was probably my best friend. She is now seventy-eight years old. My mother and I had many good talks. She has always been a good cook, and there was homemade bread or cookies for us to eat whenever we came home from school. The best thing, however, was that Mother was always there after school to greet us.
“One of my fondest childhood memories is of my dog. Mother and Father bought me a collie, and I named him Scotty. Collies are smart, but this dog had an uncanny ability to know what time it was. Every morning Scotty walked with me through the park to the corner and left me there to cross the street on my way to school. He seemed to sense that that was as far as he should go. I live close to school and came home for lunch, and every day at noon Scotty was there to walk home with me and then back to the corner after lunch. At 3:30 he was there again to walk home from school with me. He was as faithful a companion as you would ever want to have. Scotty lived with us many, many years. He and I were inseparable. He was my protector, and ours was a great relationship. I was very sad when he died. I never had a brother, but it didn’t seem to matter because my best pal was Scotty. I hope that other children have pets that mean as much to them as Scotty did to me.”
Elder Ballard concluded our interview by saying, “There are two messages that I would like to give to the children of the world. The first is that even though you are young, you must always strive to do all you can to live the teachings of the gospel and to be as close to the Lord as possible. We never know what the Lord may call upon us to do, and we must be prepared. Some of you may have received special ordinations and challenges before you ever left Heavenly Father’s presence. You must never lose sight of what your destiny is in helping to build the kingdom of God.
“The second thing to remember is that you are never too young to begin thinking about the kind of companion you will marry. To find a girl or boy who is worthy to go to the temple to be married is a very special quest. No decision, as far as I am concerned, is more important than your decision about whom you will marry.
“When you are a child, you can begin developing concepts of what a righteous and loving eternal companion should be. By staying active in the Church, it will be easier and more natural for you to find that right person. It was very clear in my young mind whom I was looking for, and when I found her, I knew that I had found her.”

But maybe even better than the squirrels, I like watching the way the sun shines through the frosty trees. It reminds me of the way Grandpa Miller looked when he sat in his old chair in the bedroom with the sunlight coming through the little window and of the way he smiled at me—sort of warm and misty.
I like to study the trees, too, especially the tall, straight-up ones. My dad said that they’re strong like Grandpa was. They bend in the wind the same way Grandpa did when he walked across a windblown field. It seems like trees are strong enough to last forever, just like I thought Grandpa would. But Grandpa died last summer.
Since Grandpa’s funeral, missionaries have taught us about Jesus’ Church. They say that just as new life will come in the springtime to the leafless trees, when Grandpa Miller is resurrected, he’ll stand just as tall and fine as he used to—maybe even finer. And I believe them!
Well, when I’m not looking, I’m mostly listening to the quiet. There’s gobs of it in October by the bridge. It’s as quiet as my secret prayers. I’ve been saying them every day. The missionaries said that we should pray about everything that’s important to us. Sometimes I pray while I’m sitting right here on the bridge because it’s so quiet. It’s not really noisy at home, unless my little sister, Michelle, is awake; then even Biscuit goes outside.
Right now I’m looking down at the water under the bridge and thinking about getting baptized next Saturday. I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately. I’m glad that the water in the font will be warm and not cold like the water under the bridge. A kid could freeze in it. And the water in the font will be deeper than in the creek because I have to go all the way under, just as Jesus did.
Yes, I like it here. The red and yellow woods. The bridge. My dad. And that new feeling that I keep feeling on the inside—warm, deep down.
Maybe I’ll show the missionaries my secret bridge. After all, they shared something special with me!

A few years ago, when I was in the navy during World War II, I received orders to report to the fleet headquarters at Pearl Harbor. My family took me to Treasure Island in the San Francisco Bay, where I boarded the plane there, an old sea plane called a Pan-American clipper. On board that plane were some high-ranking medical officers going out to prepare and build up the hospital support because the battle of Tarawa would be taking place within a few weeks. Because of my rank, I was assigned to sleep in a sleeping bag out in the tail of that plane, where I could see the starboard engines as we were flying over San Francisco, which was under military blackout. It was black as we were flying out into the Pacific, and I thought the starboard engine on that old Pan-American plane was on fire. I couldn’t sleep as I watched it throughout the entire flight.

During that sleepless night I wondered about my own life and whether I had been living up to the opportunities that would be mine and the responsibility that would be mine as a holder of the Melchizedek Priesthood—the responsibility to be an example and to live the way I should so that I would be able to fulfill the calls that might come to me. In that sleepless night I took an inventory of myself, of my attitudes, wondering if I was doing all that I might. Even though I had always accepted my Church assignments, I wondered if I was fulfilling them with all of my heart, might, mind, and soul and living up to the responsibility, the blessing, that I received as a holder of the Melchizedek Priesthood and what would be expected of any of us who received this blessing.

Looking back on that sleepless night, I thank the Lord for His blessings today and for all that I have had the opportunity to be involved in. I try always to live the gospel to the fullest, to do everything I am called on to do with all of my heart, might, mind, and strength, to fulfill any call that might come to me so I may be qualified to do whatever I might be asked to do someday.

But Aaron Moore doesn’t especially want to be here. Aaron, a sandy-haired 15-year-old from Silver Spring, Maryland, is in the cast because his family has voted by majority rule to participate as part of their summer vacation. “This is no vacation,” Aaron says as he laments over having to leave at home his brand-new pup, a combination Doberman-husky-German shepherd named Spike. “He misses Spike something awful,” says his 16-year-old sister, Kiersten.
Aaron would rather be home getting to know his new pup and doing other things that young boys like to do during summer vacations from school. But he knows the rest of the family wants to be here, so he bravely goes along.
The Sherwoods and virtually everyone else are enthusiastic about the two weeks that lie ahead. Everyone but Aaron.
Pageant director Jack Sederholm and his aides conduct auditions, and right away things change a bit for Aaron. He’s selected for one of the more critical roles in the pageant. He’s one of the band of robbers that attacks Ammon while he’s tending the herds of Lamanite King Lamoni. Aaron and the other robbers get to have sword fights with Ammon.
“As long as I’m here, I’m sure glad I got this role,” he says. “Sure, I have to lose the fight to Ammon, but it’s fun and there’s lots of activity, lots of rehearsals, and I’ll keep real busy. That way the time will go by quickly, and I’ll soon be able to get back to my dog.”
Aaron and his companion, 15-year-old Ben Reed of Fairfield, Ohio, aren’t spending as much time in study group as Kim and the other girls. When they’re not in devotionals, they’re generally on the hill, where assistant directors Lund Johnson and Walter Boyden are putting them and the other major characters through their paces. Aaron, the robber, is becoming more proficient in losing his sword fight with Ammon, and Ben is practicing his jumping moves as one of several “dancers” in the court of the pagan Lamanite King Lamoni prior to his conversion.
The swords used in the Ammon battle are heavy metal, and the combatants simply clang blades together as they spar for a few seconds before Ammon emerges victorious. Sometimes the clanging gets a little too close to the fingers, Aaron says, but he manages to escape accidental injury, a fate one of his fellow robbers falls victim to and heads for the dispensary in the trees where a volunteer nurse awaits with first-aid treatment.
After a workout on the hill, Aaron is breathing hard. It’s hot and it’s humid. The perspiration glistens on his forehead. But he’s smiling. There’s a noticeable improvement in his attitude.
“Well, I have to admit I’m enjoying it a little,” he says. “I’m making new friends. It’s kind of exciting to think about opening night. But I still miss my dog.”
The evening of dress rehearsal arrives. Everyone is in costume. Reporters are here interviewing, taking pictures, and videotaping for the nightly news. Cast members are taking photos of the costumes, some more colorful than others.
“Aaron doesn’t really like his costume,” his mother confides, “but he won’t complain about it. He likes the role but not the costume.”
“King Lamoni” loves his costume as he parades peacock-like before the clicking cameras, proudly showing off the feathery plumes of his robe and headdress. A good time is had by all and soon it is dark, they’re on the hill, and the dress rehearsal is history.
Night after night the show goes on. Aaron Moore fights his perpetual losing battle with Ammon, Kim Sherwood maintains a regal presence in the Nativity Scene, and thousands receive the message of the Book of Mormon and the restored gospel.
Finally, it’s Saturday night of the second week—time for the final performance. The same enthusiasm that has prevailed for two weeks is still there, but somehow it’s different. Everyone realizes that after this one, it’s all over. That’s it.
The show goes on. Once again the audience is impressed by the dazzling lights, the sound, the music, the story. Many are moved by the message. As the final scene fades, the “house lights” go on, and the crowd begins working its way to the parking lots. But “back stage”—back in the trees on the hill—no one is in a hurry to leave. There are hugs and handshakes, tears of joy at having had the experience, and tears of sorrow at the knowledge that it’s over. The cast assembles and sings the inevitable “God Be with You Till We Meet Again,” and the tears flow even more freely. Kim Sherwood and Holly Phippen, friends forever, say good-bye, as do countless others who have formed similar lasting bonds of friendship.
“I guess I enjoyed it more than I thought I would,” a changed Aaron Moore admits. “It’s kind of a funny feeling to have it over. I already feel a little lonely. Everybody here has the same goals. There’s such a good spirit. I’ve made so many friends and had some experiences I never could have had back home. Yeah, I guess I’d like to come back and do it again.”
“He’ll be back,” chimes in kid sister Katie, 13. “Mom’s already filled out the application form for next year.”

Jahmin Tengu of New Zealand nearly took his own life. Wanting to know of the Lord’s love for him, he felt prompted to get on his knees.

He recalls, “As I began to pray, I felt the Spirit of the Lord comfort me. I asked the Lord to bring truth into my life.” A few weeks later, Jahmin met a returned missionary who yelled out to him and asked, “Would you like to meet the missionaries?”

This led to meeting the missionaries and receiving a copy of The Book of Mormon. “I had no desire to read it at all, but I had this feeling when I read it. I felt as if the Spirit was saying, ‘I have given you what you asked for, I have answered your prayers.’”

Now, a missionary himself, Elder Tengu says, “I can truly testify that The Book of Mormon saved my life. . . . It is the word of God and is solely focused on bringing people closer to Jesus Christ.”

The Secuya family live in a mountainous part of Cebu, with the parents working as farm caretakers to support their brood of five. On weekends, the entire household puts on formal clothes and shoes and start trekking . . . up to twelve kilometers to reach the Busay 2nd Ward meetinghouse of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“It’s important we go to church every Sunday, because we learn a lot listening to the words of Jesus Christ,” shares Richelle Secuya. Together with her other siblings and parents, Richelle walks through upland paths and then takes off her footwear to ford through streams, after which she and her family wait for a public utility vehicle that brings them to church.
As they attend sacrament meeting, the Secuyas feel a different kind of fulfillment. “We know that Heavenly Father is happy when we are at church, which is His House,” Richelle’s brother Ryle smiles.
Still, the family knows the challenges of keeping the Lord’s command to renew their baptismal covenants as they keep the Sabbath day holy. “I remember our worst experience,” recalls Mitzi Secuya, the siblings’ mother, “we had to walk three to four hours, which we did for a month.”
At one point, the long trek became almost unbearable for her children. “There were times when they would say they were tired from walking and walking,” she admits, “but we still continued because our Sunday would not be complete if we went to church without them.”
The winding ways Sister Secuya and her family traverse reflect her journey in bringing her family to walk the covenant path together. At first, Sister Secuya was the only Church member in the family, but she had become less active.
Then, one day, she saw the full- time missionaries. “I’m a member of the Church, come please,” Mitzi excitedly called them out. The missionaries set an appointment with the family, and invited them to hear about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
At first, Richard Secuya wasn’t that receptive to the missionaries, but as he thought of his wife and children, he became more responsive to the promptings of the Spirit. The entire family became members of the Church, and were sealed for time and all eternity in the temple.
“I know the Lord will not forsake us if we come to Him,” Brother Secuya testifies, “and it is truly wonderful that we are now members of the Church. He really is mindful of us.”

Dan was born in Flintshire, Wales, on August 4, 1811. After receiving a college education there, he immigrated to the United States and became the owner and captain of a little river streamer called The Maid of Iowa. He operated it as a freight and passenger boat on the Mississippi River above St. Louis, Missouri. One day as a group of converts to the Church were leaving his boat at the wharf in Nauvoo, they were welcomed by the Prophet. Dan stood quietly watching the greeting. Suddenly the Prophet left the group and walked over to Dan. Placing a hand on his shoulder, he said, “God bless this little man!”
Dan was so touched by those few words of praise that he decided to investigate the church that had such a thoughtful man as its leader. To the many converts to whom he preached the gospel in the British Isles he always declared: “I have come in obedience to the counsel of the martyred Prophet, as a messenger to my native land.”