Gospel Story Finder

I am embarrassed to think of the times I hesitated to spend extra time and effort with the seventeen teachers of the Provo Thirteenth Ward while I was their advisor. It is true. I had a growing family, a new job and home, and other responsibilities, but I needed to be reminded of my obligation to these young men. As I came to know and love them, their challenges and problems became my own. Gradually I found myself serving not out of a sense of responsibility but in a spirit of love and concern.

My grandfather used to graze his cattle each summer in the beautiful, lush, high mountain valleys east of our town in central Utah. However, the cattle craved and needed supplemental nutrients from licking rock salt. The rock salt came from a salt mine some distance away. Grandfather replenished the salt at the salt licks by putting a packsaddle on a sturdy horse and filling the packsaddle with rock salt. I called the packhorse Slowpoke for good reason. Grandfather put me on Slowpoke with the saddle loaded with rock salt. He gave me the reins so I could guide the horse up the mountain following Grandfather on his horse.
My horse Slowpoke was slow, but I didn’t push him because he carried such a heavy load. It took a full day to ride up the mountain to the salt licks and to unload the rock salt from the pack animal. As the day got warmer, my sweaty legs would sting as they rubbed against the lumps of rock salt in the packsaddle. It was a joy when we crossed a stream and I could get off the horse and get rid of the sting by washing and drying my legs.
Grandfather would sing most of the day. Mostly he sang the songs of Zion. But one song he sang that impressed me greatly was “Show me your companions, and I will tell you what you are.” Looking back on it, taking salt to the mountain valley was an enjoyable experience, while the additional nutrients from the rock salt fortified the cattle.

“Hey Trista, are you still aiming for that celestial kingdom you told me about?” my cousin asked.
I was unprepared for her question, and I stammered for a moment while I tried to decide what it was she was talking about. Then I remembered. Last summer, during my family’s visit to California, my cousin and I had been talking late into the night, when somehow we got to discussing the Church. My cousin is not a member and knew very little about our Church, so when she asked me to tell her about it, I gladly agreed. I told her what I could: the Joseph Smith story, our beliefs, my dreams, and my fears—including my goal of reaching the celestial kingdom. I bore my testimony to her, and told her I knew the gospel was true. I told her how I wanted to live forever with a chosen companion, and to have my family with me. She listened carefully and asked me a lot of questions which I answered as best I could. We went to sleep that night, she was thinking about the things I had told her, and I was feeling rather pleased with my missionary work.
Now seven months later, I was amazed that she remembered what I had told her.
“Well are you?” She was looking at me expectantly, waiting for an answer.
I swallowed hard and stared out my window at the falling snow, watching each individual snowflake merge with millions of others. If only life were that simple.
“Am I still reaching for the celestial kingdom?” I asked myself. I thought back over the last few months and knew I hadn’t been trying very hard. My school grades weren’t as high as they should have been, my best friend wasn’t my best friend anymore, family relationships were not as good as they could have been, and most important of all, I was gradually becoming less active in the Church. As I sat there, I took a new look at my life and realized how empty it had been. I turned and looked at my cousin and said quietly but firmly, with my eyes full of tears, “Yes, I am.”
Oh how thankful I am to have a Father in Heaven who loves me enough to remind me of my goals. With his help I can reach the celestial kingdom. And when I doubt myself, I just remember those three words, “Yes, I am,” and I know that my Father in Heaven is with me.

Years before serving as a counselor in the Young Men General Presidency, Brother Bradley R. Wilcox and his wife, Debi, sent their reluctant 14-year-old son to Especially for Youth (EFY) at Brigham Young University.
They worried that he “didn’t have a spiritual bone in his body.” The teen came home different—more focused and sensitive to spiritual things. Now, years later, he is serving in a bishopric and mentoring the youth in his own ward.

In early 2011, New Mexico—usually a mild desert state—felt record low temperatures. The freezing caused pipes all over the state to burst, including some in the stake center where the Scouts of Troop 211 meet. Within hours volunteers, including many of these Scouts, were at the building to help clean up.
But serving together is nothing new for the boys of the troop. Just days after helping clear out the building, parents and Scouts gathered to hold a court of honor for the 10 boys from the ward who would be receiving Eagle awards. These young men had performed a host of service projects in their community, including organizing a blood drive; cleaning up a baseball field; working on the landscaping, classrooms, and libraries of local schools; and assisting with research for eye diseases in Peru. In recognition of the boys’ collective service, the city’s mayor attended their court of honor and pronounced February 9, 2011, as “Troop 211 Eagle Scouts Day.”

Illustrated by Mike Eagle
As a boy, Heber J. Grant helped his mother sweep, wash dishes, and keep house. He had never played sports like other boys his age.
Heber: Mother, I want to join a baseball team.
At first Heber had to play with boys much younger than he was because he couldn’t pitch very well. His teammates made fun of him.
Boy: Throw the ball over here, sissy!
Instead of getting upset, Heber set a goal.
Heber: Someday I will play on a championship team!
Heber shined men’s boots to earn money until he had saved up enough to buy his own baseball.
Then he practiced pitching his baseball against Bishop Edwin Woolley’s barn every day. The bishop was concerned.
Bishop: Your son is the laziest boy in the whole ward. He wastes his time throwing a ball at my barn for hours.
Sister Grant: Bishop, my son is practicing to achieve a goal.
Heber’s hard work finally paid off. He joined a team that went on to win the championship in the states of California, Colorado, and Wyoming.

One day I visited a church three blocks from our house. When I rang the doorbell, the custodian answered. I told him I had two teenage sons who needed to belong to a youth group. “Do you have Boy Scouts?” I asked. He said yes.
Then I asked him if his church was based on the Bible. Again he said yes—it was based on the Bible and the Book of Mormon. He invited me to Church services the following Sunday. My 13-year-old son, Marcelo, was traveling with friends, so I invited my other son, Sergio, who was 15, to accompany me. He came, although reluctantly.
When we entered the chapel, several members greeted us in a friendly manner. An older man quickly introduced us to the missionaries, and they started teaching us the discussions that day. When Marcelo returned from his trip, he joined us in the discussions. The Spirit touched our hearts, and on 16 February 1980 my sons and I became members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My wife, Isabel, was baptized one month later.

I remember standing before the bier of a young man whose life had been bright with hope and promise. He had been an athlete in his high school, and an excellent university student. He was a friendly, brilliant young man. He had gone into the mission field. He and his missionary companion were riding down the highway when a car, coming from the opposite direction, moved into their path and crashed into them. He died in the hospital an hour later. As I stood at the pulpit and looked into the faces of his father and his mother, there came then into my heart a conviction that I had seldom before felt with such assurance. I knew with certainty, as I looked across his casket, that this young man had not died, but had merely been transferred to another field of labor in the eternal ministry of the Lord.

Norma prided herself on being a good shopper and was dismayed when her neighbor Ann, who had the same number of children of similar ages, mentioned the amount of her monthly food bill. To Norma’s amazement it was much less than her own monthly food bill. She automatically assumed, like so many of us do, that the fault was hers. Immediately she began trying to figure out what she was doing wrong and why there was such a difference. She tried to see where she could economize and cut back more on luxuries.

Finally, Norma reanalyzed, then laughed at herself because of something she had forgotten. The answer was simple. Ann’s husband traveled for his work and never ate at home during the week. Norma realized that she had been unnecessarily hard on herself when the difference was purely situational.

One day when I was making a tuition payment, I met the director of my school. During our conversation I mentioned that I was a member of the Church and explained the PEF program to him. He told me he knew some Latter-day Saints and they were good people. He also said he had had some LDS students.
After I had attended one month of classes, the director invited me to finish my major early by taking double classes, graduating in 14 months instead of 24. I explained to him that I would not be able to pay the extra tuition until the next year when I renewed my loan, but he told me that my word was good enough since I was a Latter-day Saint. So again I was blessed. I began taking more classes, even though this required more studying and more hours in class, while continuing my part-time job.
I was amazed as I attended school how the Lord blessed me by increasing my knowledge. As part of my education I have helped people who had back problems, scoliosis, sprains, sciatica, and neck pain. Helping others improve their health and their lives through rehabilitation therapy is a pleasure—and a dream that has become a reality.
Everything is going well. I am elders quorum president in my ward. By the time I graduated in April 2003, I had taken all the required steps to have my own practice, and Fabiola and I were expecting our first child.

My siblings and I had long been on a waiting list for public schools. When our opportunity to enroll finally came, my mother told me good things about school. She said if I took education seriously, I would be someone someday. I will never forget her words: “I am sorry that I am not able to provide a good life for you. I am sorry that you had to learn the hard way the importance of work so early in your life, but now you will have the opportunity to get an education. Whatever happens, never give up school because it is the only thing that will take you away from this life.”
Once I was in school, we had to be inventive to come up with school supplies. I would find blank pieces of paper in garbage cans and bring them home. My mother sewed them together to make a notebook. She would buy a pencil to divide in three so my two sisters and I could each take a section to write with at school. Our other two siblings were not yet old enough to come to school with us.
Because my mother had suffered so much her entire life, she didn’t believe there could be a God. Throughout my childhood, neither did I. But as I got a little older, I started asking questions about God. I asked myself why my family never had a chance to have a good life and why I never had toys, enough food, or new clothes. Every time I asked these questions, I felt somehow in my heart that I wasn’t alone. This feeling comforted me for many years.
When I was about 13 years old, Latter-day Saint missionaries came to our home. They answered all of my questions and taught me about Jesus Christ. They told me there was a church where I could learn more about the gospel in special classes for people my age. They taught me how to pray. They told me about the Book of Mormon. When I was baptized, none of my family came.
I felt lonely, but I knew I was doing the right thing. I was introduced to a new life—a life of hope, happiness, faith, and love. My peers, I knew, were seeking solace in drugs and immorality. I found mine in a loving Heavenly Father and the gospel of His Son. After my baptism I knew that the Lord had been aware of me my entire life.
I learned a lot about the gospel. I met people who shared my beliefs. Some of the members got to know a little bit about my life when they visited me at home. They generously helped me buy clothes and shoes for church and notebooks for school. I babysat regularly for Church members and made more money than I ever had before. Because I was so young, it might have been easy for me to stray from the gospel. But with the support of Church members, I remained firm in my newfound faith.
The gospel truly changed my life. After I was baptized, I felt I had more energy to learn in school. I learned a lot and became a tutor. If I did not know a subject, I would study until I knew it so well I could teach it. I used the money to help at home.
I received my patriarchal blessing and was counseled to serve a mission because the Lord reserved a special blessing in my mission that would change my life forever. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew I would understand in time if I was obedient.
I served in the Brazil Curitiba Mission from 2000 to 2002. Through my association with a particular companion, I was able to go to the United States to study. I knew this would indeed change my life forever. I knew my Heavenly Father was aware of me and had a specific plan for me. This opportunity to further my education was an answer to my prayers.
I knew that it would be challenging to learn a second language, but I also knew it was possible if I worked hard enough. I studied at the Brigham Young University English Language Center and spent up to 10 hours a day in the library. One of my teachers suggested we pray for the gift of tongues, so every night I prayed and asked Heavenly Father for this gift. He certainly helped me.
After I completed my studies at the English Language Center, I was accepted at several universities. I decided to attend Brigham Young University–Idaho and apply for the nursing program. I heard that it was very difficult to get into the program, especially for international students. So I studied my hardest. My friends teased me, saying I should move into the library because I spent so much time there. Even when it closed, I went home and kept studying.
When times were difficult, I remembered the words of President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008): “You need all the education you can get. Sacrifice a car; sacrifice anything that is needed to be sacrificed to qualify yourselves to do the work of the world.”1 I knew those were the words of a prophet of God, and I took them seriously.
When I was accepted to the nursing program, my heart filled with gratitude and happiness. I knew it would be hard and I would have to continue to make sacrifices, but I knew the Lord would be with me.
While in school, I met my husband, and we were married in 2007. My mother also joined the Church that year. She told me that she had never known why I was so happy, even with all the terrible things that had happened to us. But once she joined the Church, she understood. The gospel of Jesus Christ has blessed my family, and I’m happy to see my mother blessed after all the sacrifices she has made. I will always be grateful for her.
By the beginning of 2010, I was preparing for graduation—and was pregnant with our first child. Two months before I was to graduate from the nursing program, I had complications with my pregnancy, and our baby was born via cesarean section. My teachers told me I should take time off from school and graduate later. But I was so close—only two months away!
So my husband and I carefully organized our time so we could properly balance our priorities and I could complete my education. I scheduled my study time so I could give my husband and our son the attention they needed. Sometimes my husband’s parents stayed with our son while I was in class. Two great classmates helped me review class materials. I felt that the Lord had sent all of these people to support me through this difficult time.
After graduation I passed the state certification exam and started working as a nurse to help support our family while my husband completes his education. Even though I am not planning on working once my husband starts his career, if a tragedy or economic hardship requires me to work in the future, my education helps me feel prepared to do so.
Mom was right: education does have the capacity to change lives. It has changed mine, and it will change the lives of my children. I hope they will realize that I am successful because I followed the Lord’s plan for me. He wanted me to get an education, and He helped me every step of the way. I hope my children learn how to work like I did and that they come to value education as much as I do.

As the Swiss movers were packing our household belongings preparatory to our return to America, the doorbell rang. A special-delivery mailman had a package for us. When opened, it revealed a green pillow with an embroidered message of love on it, the handiwork of Sister Alice Rusterholz. Our hearts and feelings swelled as we thought of this wonderful older sister. For four years she had graced our Sunday dinner table with her sweet spirit and lively sense of humor. For many years as a single, unmarried sister and the only member of the Church from her family, she struggled to come to church. Early Sunday morning she would leave her humble second-floor apartment. With great effort due to a crippled leg, she would walk down the outside stairway and on to the Küsnacht train station, beginning her journey of one hour and 15 minutes by train, tram, bus, and a final walk to our meetinghouse. What a blessing it had been for us in that beautiful land to pick up Sister Rusterholz every Sunday morning, accompany her to church, and conclude with dinner in our home before returning her to her apartment.

The big thing about telling derogatory things about people is that in doing so we counteract the ability of others to forgive those people. Once when I was a new deacon, I found out why one of our home teaching families was not letting us visit them. I was telling my younger brother about this. My dad came up and told me I should not be repeating those things. I have come to realize that he was right, and we should not say bad things about people. Derogatory and bad things definitely do not fall under what we say we seek after in the 13th article of faith.
John Pack Lambert, 16Sterling Heights, Michigan

Trevor loved playing basketball with Dad after work. Dad would always shoot crazy shots—sometimes they even went in.
But tonight, Dad wasn’t ready to play yet. He was helping Mom finish setting the table and pouring drinks for Trevor and his brothers.
“Hey, Dad,” Trevor said. “Want to shoot some hoops?”
“Sure, Son,” Dad said. “But let’s eat dinner first.”
When the family sat down to dinner, Dad said the blessing on the food. Then he asked Trevor and his brothers what they did during the day. Trevor talked about playing on the monkey bars. His younger brothers played in the sandbox and drew pictures.
“What did you do to serve someone today?” Dad asked. He always asked that.
Trevor was ready to answer. “I helped Mom fold the laundry.”
“Good,” Dad said. “I’m proud of you.”
After dinner Trevor popped up from the table and pulled on Dad’s arm.
“Dad, can we go shoot hoops now?” Trevor asked.
“In just a few minutes, Trevor,” Dad said. “First we need to clean up. It wouldn’t be fair to make Mom do all the cooking and cleaning, would it?”
Trevor helped load the dishwasher. Then he grabbed a paper towel and wiped off the table.
“Now can we shoot hoops?” he asked.
“Yes,” Dad said. “Thanks for your help.”
After shooting the ball and playing a few games of H-O-R-S-E, Dad tossed the ball to Trevor.
“Let’s play again,” Trevor said.
“Sorry, buddy,” Dad said. “I have a meeting at church.”
“But we just started playing!” Trevor said. “Do you have to go?” Sometimes he couldn’t understand why Dad had to go to so many meetings.
“Sorry, but I really do,” Dad said. He gave Trevor a squeeze. “Help your mom while I’m gone. I’ll try to be home before you get in bed.”
When bedtime came, Dad still wasn’t home yet.
Trevor frowned. “Mom, why does Dad have so many meetings?” he asked.
“Let me ask you a question,” Mom said. “What does Dad ask you and your brothers every day at dinner?”
“I know, I know,” Trevor answered. “What did you do to serve someone today?”
“Service is very important to Dad,” Mom said. “He’s been called to serve in our ward, and he wants to do his best.”
Trevor thought about how Dad always encouraged him and his brothers to do their best.
“Do you know what else?” Mom asked. “Dad is always looking for ways to serve us.”
“He is?” Trevor asked.
“Just think about it,” Mom said. “After a long day at work, the first thing he did today was help set the table. Then after dinner, he let me rest while he cleaned up. Then he played basketball with you even though he only had a few minutes before his meeting.”
Trevor thought for a minute. He was glad Dad went outside and played with him instead of relaxing.
“I know it can be hard when Dad is so busy,” Mom said. “But he does his best to help everyone around him.”
Mom tucked Trevor into bed and left the room. A few minutes later, Trevor’s door creaked open.
“I hope I didn’t wake you,” Dad said. “I just wanted to say good night.”
Trevor stood up on his bed and gave Dad a big hug.
“Good night, Dad,” Trevor said. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Dad said.
Trevor was glad Dad said it, but he already knew Dad loved him. Dad showed it every day.

Monday night in Manila doesn’t seem much different at first glance than any other night. Traffic in the city moves like a million ants all trying to use the same narrow tree branch to crawl in two different directions at once. Except these ants honk.
We were trying to get to the Velascos’ house so I could see a Filipino family home evening in action, but rush hour wasn’t cooperating. Finally our guide announced he was taking a shortcut, and we pulled onto a narrow street packed with people buying and selling items at small roadside stands. The shoppers were enjoying themselves, laughing and calling out to one another. They paid little attention to our compact car inching its way through their open-air shopping center.
When we finally arrived at the Velascos’ at the other end of the market, the contrast was astonishing. As we walked into their home, the hustle and bustle outside seemed to simply fade away.
They hadn’t sat down for a lesson yet, but family night had already started. Six-year-old Stephen sat on Sister Velasco’s lap while she and Brother Velasco chatted with Grandma and Grandpa. Kevin and Kirby, 14, laughed about something 15-year-old Naomi had said. Katrina, 11, was setting out the scriptures and hymnbook.
After we had met everyone, the family sat down together. Grandpa offered an opening prayer. Brother Velasco talked about talents. During the discussion the family switched easily between Tagalog and English whenever one language suited better than the other. Katrina and Naomi took turns reading the parable of the talents from Matthew 25:14–30. Brother Velasco pulled out his guitar and shared one of his talents in song, then passed the guitar to Kirby, who played a song too. Sister Velasco helped Stephen say the closing prayer, and everyone stepped into the kitchen for a special treat, homemade pizza.
While everyone was chewing, I had the chance to ask them their feelings about family home evening.
“What’s your favorite part?” I asked Kirby. Unfortunately, he had just taken a bite. “The refreshments,” he said around the mouthful. Everyone laughed.
“The laughter,” Naomi said as their fit of the giggles passed.
“What has it done for your family?”
“It has helped us bond,” Kevin said. “That’s what happens when you share your thoughts and feelings.”
It was a good answer, but I wanted to make sure he wasn’t saying it just because I was there. “Does it really?” I asked.
They all nodded. “Because of family home evening, we have become closer,” Naomi answered. “We’re more friendly to each other.”
That was obvious. The blessings of family home evening were obvious too. And it was with great reluctance that I said good-bye and stepped back out into the endless rush of a busy world.

Church leaders were assigned by the First Presidency of the Church to reorganise the stake presidency. They had prayed and received impressions to their hearts and minds (See Doctrine and Covenants 8:2) that Kumaitotoya, who was then serving as a bishop, was the man the Lord had chosen.
Kaumaititoya received authority to lead the stake as Church leaders placed their hands on his head and blessed him in the same manner as the disciples were in the Biblical account found in John 15.
Elder David A. Bednar, of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, taught that the priesthood is the authority to act in the name of Jesus Christ. He said, “Because Christ is not here with us, His priesthood is needed to teach His doctrine and to perform the ordinances of salvation. Priesthood authority is given to worthy male members of the Church and is received ‘by the laying on of hands by those who are in authority, to preach the Gospel and administer in the ordinances thereof’ (Articles of Faith 1:5). Theological training or reading the Bible does not convey priesthood authority; rather, it comes from God according to the pattern He has established.”1
The call in 2013 came as a surprise to 45-year-old Solomone Kaumaititoya. It was not something for which he sought or to which he aspired. In fact, it caused him deep introspection and feelings of inadequacy. He would continue in his full-time career as an airline purser to financially support his family.
Kaumaititoya prayed fervently, asking, “Lord, what do you want me to do? What do you want me to say?” He also wondered, “How can I still do my job and be a stake president?”
The answers came to Kaumaitotoya in the form of scriptures and dreams that penetrated his heart deeply.
The words found in Moses 1:39, “For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man,” left an impression upon Kaumaitotoya. He said, “This was a call to do the Lord’s work. It wasn’t about me.”
Dreams came to President Kaumaitotoya every few days when he was first called. He was shown some of the events that would happen in the stake. He said, “I knew what to do because I had seen it in a dream.”
He found that his life experiences had also prepared him in ways he couldn’t foresee. President Kaumaitotoya had a very difficult childhood. As a young teenager, he climbed a hill one day to pray and to ask God why he had to go through such hard things.
He recalled, “I was really angry with God. I couldn’t understand why the Lord would let me go through such hard things. I was asking Him why?”
Kaumaitotoya didn’t understand, at first, the answer that came on the hill that day: “For your experience.”
As he served, he made sense of what “for your experience” meant, when a teary congregant walked into his office to seek his ecclesiastical counsel about a similar family situation. Afterwards, it dawned on Kaumaitotoya what the answer to his boyhood prayer meant. His path and his challenges had prepared him to minister to and serve people with understanding and love.
Lavinia Kaumaitotoya voiced her gratitude for her husband’s opportunity to serve. She said, “I have seen my husband grow and change to become a more spiritual, loving father and husband. I have seen him coming to know the Saviour.”
Latter-day Saints believe that callings or invitations to accept responsibilities or offices in the Church, are opportunities for growth and refinement. Serving the Lord and others in these volunteer roles increases love for God and for His children. It is a blessing to sacrifice time and energy for the Lord and to be called by Him to do His work.
Nine years ago, when Lavinia and Solomone Kaumaitotoya learned that it was time for a new stake president to be called, they fasted and prayed. They called upon the Lord to bless those seeking inspiration to know who the Lord wanted to lead their stake. They prayed that their stake would be blessed.
Almost as a bookend, the Kaumaitotoya’s again fasted and prayed the week before the stake conference when Solomone would be released as stake president, offering prayers of gratitude, and seeking blessings for the new stake president.
Solomone Kaumaitotoya declared, “President Adrian Yee has the authority to lead the stake now, and I sustain him. I’m ready to do whatever the Lord wants me to do.”

One of the many stake presidents that have aligned their efforts to gathering Israel is Chukwu Nnanna of the Abakaliki Nigeria Stake. In his words: “It all started at Port Harcourt when Elder D. Todd Christofferson visited with Elder [S. Mark] Palmer of the Presidency of Seventy. I had a deep conversation with Elder Palmer who thought me a Ghanaian as I wore a Ghanaian tie gifted to me by one of the young single adults who served in Ghana. He asked how many sons and daughters I had out there. I knew he wanted to know how many young single adults were currently serving full time missions. I thought for a while in my heart, and then told Elder Palmer that I was just three months in my calling as a stake president.
“He then said, ‘Send as many missionaries as you can.’
“I held on to those words and prayed that many will serve a full-time mission while I serve as a stake president. I asked the Lord to help me fulfill His words coming forth from His servant of the Seventy”.
President Nnanna continued: “As I reflected on what to do, knowing the Lord always provides a way to accomplish His purposes; my attention was drawn to the Gathering Place as the way”. The stake presidency standardized Abakaliki Gathering Place activities. The stake operates two gathering places to overcome challenge of distance as there are units about 70 kilometers away from the stake centre. Great are the miracles that follow the rising generation as the Gathering Place becomes a spiritual and temporal muster point for young single adults and their friends who are offered a wide range of activities such as missionary preparation, institute, skills acquisition, BYU Pathway, socials, family History work, self-reliance class, games and many more.
Evidently, the Lord Has blessed the stake presidency’s efforts in strengthening the Abakaliki Nigeria Stake Gathering Place. Today, in addition to the eight serving missionaries, a brother will be leaving for full time service to Nigeria Port Harcourt Mission in November 2022. A sister will go to the Kenya Nairobi Mission in January 2023. Literally, the prayer of a committed stake president has been answered and Elder Palmer’s charge to send many young single adults on missions continues to be fulfilled.
Consistent with priesthood direction and the principle of the Gathering Place, we have seen strong leadership development among Abakaliki youth as they are given opportunities to serve in the stake presidency, high council, bishoprics and stake family history with their exceptional contributions. At stake and unit levels, young single adults are championing family history and temple efforts. Temple worship has become a culture for these young people who contribute significantly in assisting our brothers and sisters on the other side of the veil.

Sarah listened as Mom talked on the phone. She was telling Dad how Sister Evans’ car had a flat tire, so Mom had given her, her baby, and her groceries a ride home. Sarah heard Mom say, “I did my good deed for the day.”
Sarah was puzzled. She wandered into the family room where her big brother, Christopher, was busy folding the laundry. “What’s a good deed?” she asked.
“A good deed is something helpful that you do for someone,” Christopher explained. “For example, if you helped me put away these clothes, you would be doing a good deed.”
“OK, I’ll help,” Sarah said. She scooped up a stack of towels and hurried to the bathroom to put them away. Before long, the job was done.
“Thank you, Sarah,” Christopher said.
Sarah smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said. “I guess I did my good deed for the day.” She went to tell Mom what she had done. On the way, she saw her baby brother, Adam. He was standing in front of Dad’s big easy chair, looking very unhappy. His ball was on the chair, just out of his reach.
“Oh, Adam,” Sarah exclaimed, “I’ll help you!” She ran to the chair, grabbed the ball, and handed it to Adam. He smiled, threw the ball, and toddled off after it.
“Now I’ve done two good deeds,” Sarah said to herself as she continued to search for Mom. She found her in the kitchen, fixing dinner. “May I set the table?” Sarah asked.
“Of course you may,” Mom answered. “I’m always happy to have you as my helper.”
“I’m doing good deeds today,” Sarah announced as she set the table. “I helped Christopher, then I helped Adam, and now I’m helping you.” She paused, then asked, “What’s a good deed that I can do for Dad?”
“When he gets home from work, you can give him a hug and tell him that you love him,” Mom suggested.
Sarah laughed. “I always do that,” she said. “That’s not a good deed.”
“It is a good deed,” Mom said. “Your dad looks forward to your hug and ‘I love you’ all day long.”
Just then they heard Dad opening the garage door. “Here I go!” Sarah said. She ran to Dad and jumped into his arms. “I love you, Dad!” she declared, giving him a great big hug.
“And I love you, Sarah,” he said, carrying her into the kitchen. “Tell me what you did today.”
Sarah beamed. “I did lots of good deeds.”
“Good for you!” Dad set Sarah down and gave Mom a kiss. “I called Sister Evans and told her that I would change her tire right after dinner.”
“That will be your good deed for the day, Dad!” Sarah declared. “It’s a good thing Sister Evans had a flat tire today or we wouldn’t have been able to do so many good deeds!”

Two months after the above experience, the second adventure took place. I was again out in the mountains, this time with a group of Scouts, and we were 20 miles out in the back country. We were taking our annual 50-mile hike and had decided to do it a little differently; we would hike in for 15 or 20 miles and then take day hikes into the surrounding lakes and streams where the boys could do some fishing. One day we broke into three groups: The first was going to hike in three or four miles to some high beaver ponds along a stream where the fishing was alleged to be great. The second, of which I was the leader, was headed to the top of a beautiful mountain about six miles away. The third group, exhausted from several days of such activity, would stay in camp, fish in the adjacent stream, and clean up. All went well with my little group of eight young Scouts and also with those in camp, but the first group was in for quite an experience. As the boys arrived at the appointed fishing areas, they spread out along the river for about a mile, each selecting what he thought would be the best spot. As the day wore on, they collected around the proven fishing holes. However, one young Scout had started working his way downstream looking for a new spot. Suddenly he experienced what felt like an attack of appendicitis. Being nearly a quarter of a mile from the nearest boy and close to the noisy stream, his yells for help were in vain. Not being able to walk because of the pain in his side, he lay down next to the river in despair, fearing for his life.
In the second illustration, the young Scout remembered his whistle and his training. Three blasts at three minute intervals was a plea for help. His whistling was heard by two boys up the river, and they came running. It wasn’t long until he was being carried on an improvised stretcher to the base camp where medical care was available.

Last December, I had an accident. I fell on the street and broke my hip on both sides and my right arm. This has been one of my greatest trials because it kept me in bed, and I couldn’t walk for more than seven months. They put a hip prosthetic on one side, and the doctor decided to wait until I could walk before they put the other one in. I am still struggling with this challenge today, but I’m not facing it alone. I know my Savior has been by my side every day and always will be. This time, I prayed to help me regain my health so I could continue to enjoy the blessings of going to the temple and serving others. Many people have come to support and assist me. I’ve learned to be humble, recognize my weaknesses, and accept the service they have given me.