Gospel Story Finder

An example of a child listening happened in a fabric store. The store was crowded with shoppers when it became obvious to everyone that a mother was panicked because she had lost her young son. At first, she was calling his name. “Connor,” she would say as she briskly walked around the store. As time passed, her voice got louder and more frantic. Soon the store security officers were notified, and everyone in the store was involved in looking for the child. Several minutes passed with no success of finding him. Connor’s mother, understandably, was becoming more frantic by the minute and was rapidly yelling his name over and over again.

One patron, after saying a silent prayer, had the thought that Connor may be frightened as he listened to his mother scream his name. She mentioned this to another woman involved in the search, and they quickly made a plan. Together they began to walk between the tables of fabric, quietly repeating the words “Connor, if you can hear my voice, say, ‘Here I am.’” As they walked slowly toward the back of the store repeating that phrase, sure enough, they heard a timid, soft voice say, “Here I am.” Connor was hiding between the bolts of fabric under a table. It was a voice of perfect mildness that encouraged Connor to respond.

Not long ago I received a telephone call from a remarkable woman named Jean who asked if she and her daughter could visit me.
More than four decades ago, I had baptized Jean. As we discussed the gospel lessons in 1956, Jean’s four-year-old daughter, Sherrie, sat on her mother’s knee. Now, Sherrie is grown with five sons. All have served missions. Jean and Sherrie told me that at least 67 people have joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints because of Jean’s conversion.
I labored for 10 months in Decatur, Illinois, having five companions during that time. We were quite discouraged in 1956 when with all our efforts, only Jean’s baptism resulted. She joined the Church with this remark: “I have been waiting for many years to find the faith that explains how everyone who ever lived, or will live, can have the chance to be saved in God’s kingdom. No other church could do it. I know you have the true Church.”
“How grateful I am,” said her daughter, Sherrie, “that you stopped by and taught my mother the true gospel of Jesus Christ.”
Suddenly, all the doors I knocked on during my 10-month stay in Decatur were worth it.

The gospel and the happiness it can bring are shared by President and Sister Yohanes Depalangga and their family in Bandung.

Brother Dapalangga was born into a Christian family. His father was a minister in a Protestant church. His grandfather had been the first native minister on their home island of Sumba. But his family’s religious beliefs did not fit “with my inner feelings, my conscience. Consequently, I was considered an unruly boy as I constantly challenged those beliefs. I attended a Christian university, and later a Muslim university, but I found no satisfaction when it came to religion.”

Many years later, as a married man living in Bandung, he saw two Latter-day Saint missionaries walking along the street.

“I was impressed with their appearance and especially with their name tags, which publicly declared they represented a Christian church. Most Christians I knew were reluctant to publicize their faith.”

After questioning the missionaries, he invited them to his home. Over the next few weeks, the missionaries taught Brother Dapalangga and his wife.

“Some of the things they taught were so new to us,” says Brother Dapalangga. “It was the first time we had heard of the Savior appearing on the American continent, the first time we had heard of the plan of salvation. For a time, I decided to avoid seeing the missionaries because I was afraid they were teaching false doctrine. But they persisted, even waiting hours for me to come home.

“Eventually, I decided that I should listen to all that the missionaries had to say and then make up my mind if it was the truth. They gave me a copy of the Book of Mormon, and I spent the best part of a week doing nothing but reading and pondering its contents.

“As I began to read, there seemed to be some kind of force telling me it was not true. But I fought against that feeling and prayed that I might be able to complete the book.

“Over a period of time, I prayed often that I might know if the Book of Mormon was true and if the missionaries were the Lord’s servants.

“One night, as I slept, I felt the Lord tell me to delay no longer. He told me the Book of Mormon was true and the missionaries were truly his servants. He told me I should take my wife and family to church, something we hadn’t done because we didn’t feel worthy to go.

“This was a special spiritual moment for me. Even now I want to cry as I remember feeling the love of God for me. I felt he cared for me, a man who had nothing, a man who had no great hope for the future. But I know now that the Lord has always taken care of me and my family. He has always watched over us, as he watches over all his children.

“I woke my wife and told her of my experience. She was impressed, as I was, that this was the answer to our prayers.”

From that moment on, the Dapalangga family absorbed the gospel teachings and attended church—but there was a six-month delay before their baptism in 1984. “We had lost our marriage certificate, and the missionaries would not baptize us without proof of our marriage in 1973. Finally we got a copy from a government office.”

President Dapalangga’s family in Sumba has welcomed his involvement in a Christian church. “My father came to visit me and asked me lots of questions. Finally, he told me that he believed the Church was true, but he could not bring himself to break away from his church or his congregation. He took home with him a Book of Mormon, and he uses it to teach the youth. He has sent a number of boys to stay with us so that we can teach them the gospel. Some of the boys have been baptized.”

From the time they accepted the gospel, the Dapalanggas have been active in the Bandung Branch. Within a year of his baptism, Brother Dapalangga was called to serve as second counselor in the branch presidency. He was called to be branch president in 1987. Sister Tini Dapalangga has been active in Relief Society as president and as a counselor in another presidency.

Through their various callings, President and Sister Dapalangga have had the opportunity to share in the challenges and problems that branch members have experienced. “But,” they agree, “even the most difficult problem can be overcome through prayer and a willingness to do the Lord’s work.”

President Dapalangga shares spiritual advice and scriptural knowledge not only with the branch members, but also with everyone who buys products from his sidewalk medicine stall. He tells his customers that the medicine may help them, but the Lord and his ways are the best “medicine” of all.

In addition to medicines, President Dapalangga also sells snakes—live ones. “I get the snakes from snake catchers or farmers in the central part of Java, where there are many cobras. People like to eat the meat and use the skins. They also like the snake oil as a salve for aches and pains.”

Even though they handle snakes, the Dapalanggas are wise enough to stay away from the poisonous fangs. In the same way, says President Dapalangga, “we strive to stay away from iniquity by living the gospel and building our spiritual strength.

“We should believe in the Lord with our whole heart and not depend upon our own understanding. If we accept the Lord and all his ways, he will lead us in the path we should go. I know from personal experience that this church is led by revelation, and we can have revelation in our own lives, too.”

As a boy in Ogden, Utah, I loved to go to the movies with my brothers on Saturdays. We were each given a dime, and we walked to the nearby theater for a double-feature movie. One of our favorite stars was a cowboy actor named Tom Mix. After the movies, we walked home.
One Saturday, my brother Phil lagged behind, and I arrived home first. “Where’s your younger brother?” my mother asked. A little later, we found out that Phil had been hit by a car while he was crossing a street on the way home. He was hurt very seriously. His skull was fractured, and when we first saw him, his eyes were swollen to several times their normal size.
Our stake president came to the hospital, and he and my father gave Phil a blessing. Then we all prayed. As we did, a calm feeling came over my dad, and he knew that Phil would live. When the doctor arrived, he immediately told the nurses to lower my brother’s head. That decision went against how such injuries are treated, but it saved his life. Years later, we learned that his brain sac had ruptured—had his head not been lowered, he would have died. Although he was in a coma for months, one day he squeezed my dad’s hand and we knew that Phil could hear us. His recovery was very long and slow, but he had no lasting mental or physical problems from that terrible accident. I know that this happened because of the power of the priesthood.

I received permission from my dear friend and emeritus General Authority Seventy, Elder Robert E. Wells, now 97 years old, to share his experience of more than 60 years ago:

While living in Paraguay in 1960 and employed as an international banker, Robert Wells, then 32 years old, and his wife, Meryl, were each a pilot in two different planes, flying home from Uruguay to Paraguay. Encountering thick clouds, Robert and Meryl lost visual and radio contact with each other. Robert quickly landed, where he learned his wife’s plane had crashed. Neither his wife nor the two friends flying with her had survived. His children, at home in Asunción, were ages seven, five, and two.

Elder Wells spoke of his grief:
“Words will forever be inadequate in expressing the pain that swelled within me, consuming my emotions and numbing my senses. Profound tears of sorrow simply wouldn’t stop flowing. To make matters worse, as my mind was attempting to deal with the devastating realization of my wife’s passing, I found myself experiencing tremendous guilt for feeling I was responsible for the crash.”

Robert blamed himself for not having had the plane inspected more thoroughly and for not giving his wife better instrument flying instructions. He felt he was guilty of neglect.

Robert said:
“My mind went into a dark daze. … I simply existed—[for the sake of the children,] nothing more.”

“I … lost my desire to continue on.”

In time, Robert was blessed with a deeply spiritual experience. He recounted:
“One evening, about one year later, while on my knees in prayer, a miracle occurred. While praying and pleading to my Heavenly Father, I felt as though the Savior came to my side and I heard an audible voice speaking these words to my soul and to my ears: ‘Robert, my atoning sacrifice paid for your sins and your mistakes. Your wife forgives you. Your friends forgive you. I will lift your burden. …’
“From that moment, the burden of guilt [and despair] was amazingly lifted from me. I had been rescued! I immediately understood the encompassing power of the Savior’s Atonement and … that it applied directly to me. … I … experienced light and joy like I had never before known. … I had been given an unearned gift—the Lord’s gift of grace. … I didn’t deserve it—I had done nothing to merit it, but He gave it to me nonetheless.”

The concept of being filled with light and truth became particularly important to me because of an experience I had many years ago. I attended a meeting where members of the Young Women general board taught about creating spiritually strong families and homes. To visually demonstrate this, a Young Women leader held up two soda cans. In one hand she held a can that was empty and in the other hand a can that was unopened and full of soda. First, she squeezed the empty can; it began to bend and then collapsed under the pressure. Next, with her other hand, she squeezed the unopened can. It held firm. It didn’t bend or collapse like the empty can—because it was filled.

We likened this demonstration to our individual lives and to our homes and families. When filled with the Spirit and with gospel truth, we have the power to withstand the outside forces of the world that surround and push against us. However, if we are not filled spiritually, we don’t have the inner strength to resist the outside pressures and can collapse when forces push against us.

“One of our Young Women leaders is deaf. For New Beginnings, we decided to perform “Embark” [the 2015 Mutual theme song] in American sign language [ASL]. Our leader taught us the chorus of the song, and she signed the verses. I loved this activity because any young woman who wanted to could have a solo in the song while all of the girls signed. I feel good that we’re learning another language that may help someone we may know in our future. Also, I hope it inspired other people to want to learn ASL.”
Piper W., 17, Missouri, USA

When Kate Hansen was 10 her father drove her to Slider Search, a local clinic being held for kids to try out for luge. “I tell people that luge is like bobsledding,” says Kate. “At the clinic, they set up hay bales and cones on the street and then let the kids ride a trainer sled with wheels down the course. I went through the cones without crashing. I remember it being really fun. Plus they wanted to see how well I took direction.”
As a result of the clinic, both Kate and her cousin were invited to come to Lake Placid, New York, where the national luge training facility is located. The first time Kate tried out a real sled on an ice course, she loved it. It was fast and fun. “It’s like a roller coaster but pretty relaxing. It’s very flowing.”
The whole idea that riding something going so fast, just inches from crashing into walls of ice, would hardly seem relaxing to most people. But this ability to relax while moving has been the secret to Kate’s success.
Her mother, Kathie, remembers seeing her go down a run for the first time. She says, “It’s nerve-racking when you watch your daughter go by, and she’s going so fast. I wondered, ‘What have we gotten into?’ The coaches don’t know how she does it. She can have a bad start, but as soon as she is through the first curve, she’s leading everyone because she’s settling in and relaxing and just feeling the curves.”
Her mother thinks the ability to relax might come from Kate’s skateboarding and surfing, two popular activities in La Cañada, California, where the Hansen family lives. “Kate used to lay down on her skateboard, going down the driveway with her ponytail dragging.”
While learning this new sport, Kate says, “I was just the girl from California who had her ukulele. Before races some people warm up by sitting in the corner, staying really focused. Others zone everyone out. Then there are those who listen to music and dance. I was one who danced and sang, trying to keep my mind off of what I was doing. That’s when I did well. I was just there for fun.”
Each year at the USA training facility, Kate is given a sled for the season. Last year she named her sled Ricardo—Ricky for short. “It’s your baby,” says Kate. “You take care of it.”
The sled is built to her size and can be adjusted slightly. “My sled is a lot different. I like it loose because it’s easier to steer. I did really well on it.” Kate does everything for her sled. She sands the steel runners. After races she puts oil on the steels so they won’t rust. She packs it carefully when traveling. “If you drop Ricky, you have to apologize,” she jokes.
Kate Hansen and her family haven’t had a real plan for her participation in luge. They seem to take and evaluate opportunities as they come. Heidi, Kate’s older sister, explains, “My brothers and I thought it was funny because she was luging, and no one really knows what that is. We thought she would only do it for a while, but then she would do well and get invited to train or to be on teams, so our family would say, ‘I guess she’ll move up.’”
Eventually Kate started to get noticed. In her first junior international competition at the junior level, she came in third, shocking everyone because she was so young and inexperienced. A few months later, at 15, she came in first at the Junior World Championship. She was only the third American to ever win. She now spends most of the winter months living with the team in Europe and competing on the Junior World Cup Tour. Her name has started rising to the top.
With the upcoming 2010 Winter Olympics, Kate will be invited to participate in the Olympic trials. There are only three slots on the team, and most of the competitors are much older. Kate finished sixth overall at the end of last season and looks forward to competing for a spot on the team. Whether she makes it or not, Kate has had fun participating and succeeding in luge, but it will not become the only focus in her life.
Kate’s mom and dad worry about their daughter’s keeping the right balance. “Mom didn’t want me to miss out on high school,” says Kate.
Kate is involved in school activities when she is home and maintains excellent grades. “Our goal is that she is going to college,” says her mother. “And her seminary teacher, Sister Frandsen, is kind enough to digitally record seminary every morning. We then e-mail the seminary recordings to Kate each week so she can listen to the classes. It is one of her spiritual foundations and a link to home when she is on the road.”
To help focus her goals, Kate has received her patriarchal blessing. In her blessing she was told that she would be watched by many people and would have missionary opportunities come to her.
Even so, Kate faces some hard situations when it comes to the party atmosphere that accompanies sports. It seems that drinking can become a stumbling point, especially when the team goes to Europe to compete. “After races, it’s party time. Everyone I met would drink. At first, I felt like the loner in the hotel. But I got over that feeling. My teammates knew better than to ask me to drink with them. After I won the worlds, my competitors would say, ‘Kate, you have to drink tonight.’ But I’d say no. My teammates would say, ‘No, she doesn’t drink. Don’t even ask.’”
Having a strong testimony is the bottom line for Kate. She is always excited to go to young women camp and youth conference with her stake. When asked about her favorite scripture, Kate mentions an experience she had while attending Especially for Youth. She hadn’t planned to bear her testimony, but then she had a feeling that someone there needed to hear what she had to say. She had been reading in her scriptures and had come upon Mosiah 8:18: “Thus God has provided a means that man, through faith, might work mighty miracles; therefore he becometh a great benefit to his fellow beings.”
Kate says, “I stood up and talked about my patriarchal blessing where it says I would be an example to others and people would be watching me. Now it’s my favorite scripture because it came as an answer to me.”
It seems that people are indeed watching Kate and what she chooses to do. At the end of the season, two of her teammates said they had stopped drinking because of her. “It was the biggest reward I have ever received,” says Kate.

It was two days before Christmas, and the airport was full of people. After standing in line to check my luggage and pick up my boarding pass, I was cranky. When I arrived at the gate to wait to board the plane, I couldn’t find a place to sit, so I ended up lying along the back wall, using my carry-on bag as a pillow.
The airline I was flying on had open seating, and when it finally came time to board, I scanned the rows of seats ahead of me on the plane in search of an available window seat. The flight was full, but I managed to find a window seat near the back of the plane with only one other person in the row—a young man about my age in the aisle seat.
I climbed over the young man to get to my seat, making no attempt to talk to him because of my bad mood. As I struggled to shove my big carry-on bag under the seat in front of me, my neighbor offered to put it in the overhead storage bin for me. I declined, but I at least mustered enough charity to thank him for his offer.
“What's so important in that bag that you need it with you?” he asked. As I thought about it, I honestly didn’t know.
“Nothing really, I guess,” I said.
I hadn’t thought about what was in my bag. I just knew that I liked to have my stuff with me and not in some overhead bin. This friendly neighbor continued to ask questions, and soon we were talking about where we were going for Christmas and what our plans were. By this time, a man was trying to climb into the middle seat between my new friend and me. But before he climbed over, the young man from the aisle seat slid into the seat next to me.
We kept talking, and by the time the plane took off I found out his name is P.K. He was flying to Houston to see his dad, whom he hadn’t seen for years. Then we talked about Christmas traditions. The longer we talked, the more I realized we come from strikingly different backgrounds.
I started thinking about how the Church had influenced my life. Almost as if P.K. could read my thoughts, he asked me how I felt about religion and God. Once he found out I was a Latter-day Saint, he wanted to know what we believed, if I really believed the gospel’s teachings, and how I could believe something so intangible.
I quickly prayed in my heart to say the right things to P.K., and I found myself answering his questions and telling him that I really did know the Church is true.
We continued talking until we landed in Texas. Then he said, “I’ve been searching for all kinds of things in my life to make me happy, and even when I’ve found temporary satisfaction or peace, I’ve never been as happy and confident as you seem.
“If what you say is true, then maybe this Church of yours isn’t so bad,” he said. “You must have been pretty lucky to grow up knowing all this. What you’ve told me is what people spend their entire lives looking for.”
At that moment I realized why I needed my bag with me. I’d brought a copy of the Book of Mormon to give away. I pulled it out of my bag and shared some of my favorite passages with P.K. I felt the Spirit confirm to me that what I was saying was true. The Book of Mormon really can bring P.K. the peace he is looking for because it teaches of Jesus Christ, who is the ultimate source of peace.
That Christmas I discovered how the gospel of Jesus Christ really does make us happy and how blessed I am, as a Latter-day Saint, to know that. After wishing P.K. a merry Christmas, I offered a silent prayer that he would come to know what I know: that the gospel is true and can bring us peace.

One experience preeminent in my mind is the Suva Fiji Temple open house and dedication. There had been political upheaval resulting in rebels burning and looting downtown Suva, occupying the houses of Parliament and holding legislators hostage. The country was under martial law. The Fiji military gave the Church limited permission to assemble people for the open house and a very small group for the dedication. The members as a whole were uninvited due to concerns for their safety. It was the only temple dedication since the original Nauvoo Temple that was held under very difficult circumstances.

One person invited to the open house was a lovely Hindu woman of Indian descent, a member of Parliament who was initially held hostage but was released because she was female.

In the celestial room, free from the turmoil of the world, she dissolved in tears as she expressed feelings of peace that overwhelmed her. She felt the Holy Ghost comforting and bearing witness of the sacred nature of the temple.

This point came forcibly to mind when I was serving as a bishop. A bishop in a small town in Arizona called me and explained that one of his ward members was coming to my area to attend her brother’s funeral. Desiring her to have the strength of the Church in this time of need, he asked if I would accompany her to the funeral. I agreed and attended the service, held in a funeral home and conducted by a local Protestant minister. Expecting to hear words of comfort, I was shocked to hear expressions of doubt and confusion about the role and mission of Jesus Christ. Clearly this man lined up on the side of the proposition that Jesus was a mere man.

When I was about six or seven years old, our family went to Kanab, Utah, to visit my aunt, who was married to a forest ranger. My uncle was in charge of the Kaibab Forest, one of the largest national forests in the United States. We arrived there late at night and went right to bed at their home.
The next morning I was awakened by my cousins, who were younger than I. They said, “There’re some deer out there. Come and look.” I jumped out of bed and got dressed and ran to the back door. Sure enough, within twenty yards of the house was a doe with her two little fawns. After we watched for a few minutes, I wanted to get closer and try to touch them.
My three cousins and I started walking toward them, but just as we got close to them, they moved away. They kept doing that, and we kept following them. All of a sudden, the mother deer decided that she’d had enough and bounded away, her little ones behind her.
My cousins and I turned around to go back to the house and realized that we were lost. In our minds it seemed easy to just turn around and go back, but we had gone much farther than we thought we had.
I had never been in a forest before. My cousins kept saying, “Let’s go this way.” “No, let’s go this way.” So we just wandered around, and pretty soon we started hearing sounds that we imagined were bears and cougars.
We called and whistled for our families to answer, but we didn’t hear a thing. We wandered around in the tall trees for maybe an hour and a half. Then the thought came to me that we should pray to Heavenly Father. We knelt in a circle, and I said a simple prayer. As we got up, I had the distinct impression that we should walk in a certain direction, which we did. We walked that way for another thirty minutes or so. The little ones were tired, and I had to carry the smallest one on my back.
When we heard a motor in the distance, we knew enough to walk toward the sound. All of a sudden, we broke into a clearing. We could see a road, and the motor we’d heard was in a road grader. We were really tired and upset, but we knew that we had to get over to the road grader before it went by the clearing, so we ran as fast as we could. When we got close enough, we waved, and the road-grader operator saw us and stopped. He put us in the cab and took us down to the forest rangers’ headquarters. By that time, my parents and aunt and uncle had all the forest rangers out looking for us, so they were glad to see us. That experience was a testimony to me that Heavenly Father does hear and answer our prayers.

A neighbor once told me that as a missionary in earlier days he and his companion were walking along a ridge in the mountains of the South. They saw people gathering in a clearing near a cabin some distance down the hillside. They had come for a funeral. A little boy had drowned, and his parents had sent for the preacher to “say words.” The minister, who rode a circuit on horseback, would rarely visit these isolated families. But when there was trouble, they would send for him.
The little fellow was to be buried in a grave opened near the cabin. The elders stayed in the background as the minister stood before the grieving family and began his sermon.
If the parents had hoped for consolation from this man of the cloth, they were disappointed. He scolded them severely because the little boy had not been baptized. He told them bluntly that their little son was lost in endless torment, and it was their fault.
After the grave was covered and the neighbors had gone, the elders approached the grieving parents. “We are servants of the Lord,” they told the sobbing mother, “and we’ve come with a message for you.”
As the grief-stricken parents listened, the elders unfolded the plan of redemption. They quoted from the Book of Mormon, “Little children need no repentance, neither baptism” (Moro. 8:11) and then bore testimony of the restoration of the gospel.

Often those who change the course of your life are leaders who have a Christlike ability to see you the way the Lord sees you. Whilst presiding at stake conference recently I greeted a brother in the foyer who introduced himself as Bishop Ormsby. This is a very common name in the Church, and I enquired who his father was. His dad, whom I hadn’t seen in probably 45 years, had been in my ward’s bishopric when I was a deacon and a teacher.
I remember this elder Brother Ormsby as diligent, interested, kind and present. He often provided rides to service projects and meetings. By then, my mother was raising us on her own and had to go out to work each day, so she depended upon the ward leaders like Brother Ormsby to fill in the gaps. Bishop Ormsby reported that his father was still alive, and I asked that he let his dad know how much I appreciated his influence. I was able to meet with Brother Ormsby the following week and I expressed my gratitude to him in person. He said something to the effect that he saw in me and my brother something beyond our youthful misbehaviour.
I am so grateful for Brother Ormsby. He exemplified the many servants of God who treat people as who they can become.

First, many people will mourn with us; they won’t judge us. Due to severe panic attacks, anxiety, and depression, our son returned home from his mission after just four weeks. As his parents, we found it difficult to deal with disappointment and sadness because we had prayed so much for his success. Like all parents, we want our children to prosper and be happy. A mission was to be an important milestone for our son. We also wondered what other people might think.

Unbeknownst to us, our son’s return was infinitely more devastating for him. Note that he loved the Lord and wanted to serve, and yet he could not for reasons he struggled to understand. He soon found himself at a point of total hopelessness, battling deep guilt. He no longer felt accepted but spiritually numb. He became consumed by recurring thoughts of death.

While in this irrational state, our son believed that the only action left was to take his own life. It took the Holy Ghost and a legion of angels on both sides of the veil to save him.

While he was fighting for his life and during this immensely difficult time, our family, ward leaders, members, and friends went out of their way to support and minister to us.

I have never felt such an outpouring of love. I have never sensed more powerfully and in such a personal way what it means to comfort those in need of comfort. Our family will be ever grateful for that outpouring.

I cannot describe the countless miracles that accompanied these events. Gratefully, our son survived, but it has taken a long time and much medical, therapeutic, and spiritual care for him to heal and to accept that he is loved, valued, and needed.

I was sitting in Sunday School on New Year’s Eve day. My teacher was talking about all the things we could learn from the scriptures, but my thoughts weren’t on the lesson. They were on the upcoming year. It seemed like it would be a great year. I would be going into seventh grade, and I’d also be turning 13. I even held out hope that I’d get my own room.
My thoughts were also on the resolutions I’d made. Every year I’d set goals, and a week later I couldn’t even remember them. But making goals was just something you did on New Year’s. It had always been that way in my family. We would all sit down on New Year’s Day when we were putting away the Christmas decorations, and we’d write down our goals for that year. Then we’d put them in our Christmas stockings, and the next year we’d look to see if we had kept our resolutions. I usually kept the goals I had made because I always set goals I knew I could keep.
But as I was considering what other goals I could make, something my teacher was saying caught my ear.
“I know the Book of Mormon is a true testament of Jesus Christ and that if you not only read but ponder and pray about the things you have learned, it will strengthen your faith in Jesus Christ and you will be able to feel closer to him and your Father in Heaven.” She then challenged us to read the Book of Mormon and pray about it as often as we could. If we did, she said, we would see the blessings in our lives.
This touched me, and I wanted to accept her challenge. But I knew if I told myself that I’d read the Book of Mormon as often as I could it would be collecting dust on my shelf all year.
However, the thought of actually accomplishing something with my resolutions excited me. And any extra blessings were good, so why not give it a try?
The next day I sat holding the card I was writing my goals on. I thought for a minute, then wrote, “Try to read my …” I stopped and scribbled that out and wrote, “Read my Book of Mormon and pray about it every day.”
Okay, I thought. Now all I have to do is remember that.
One week later I had, and I couldn’t have been happier. I could actually see the blessings I was receiving. If I prayed for help, I received it. When I asked for guidance that day, I seemed to be able to decide with ease which was the right choice. I knew that I had the right to talk to Heavenly Father anytime I needed to. Instead of viewing the Book of Mormon as boring directions to my life, I found it to be an exciting story of real people sending out messages of love, faith, and hope.
I didn’t miss a day of reading, and I have been both surprised and humbled by this experience and the guidance it has given me in my life.
As I look back at that goal, I know that I’ve grown far more spiritually than physically. I look forward to each new year with a resolution that will help me find the same joy I found that year.

For example, when we were leaving Zimbabwe, the plan was for my dad to go to Afghanistan for a year. The rest of my family would live with my mom’s parents. However, right before my dad left, we found out they weren’t sending anyone into Afghanistan for a while. That meant we wouldn’t be moving to live with family. As happy as I was to have my dad, this abrupt change was really hard for all of us.
I was mad, and unfortunately I took my anger out on Heavenly Father for a while. I remember praying one night and basically just yelling about why I was mad. But despite my anger, He helped me eventually humble myself and feel peace. It was like He was saying, “Whatever happens, good can come of it. Just trust me. I know it’s hard right now, but it’s all going to work out in the end.” I was able to calm down and think about things. I needed to learn to trust Heavenly Father and be OK with things not going according to my plan, because His plan is always better.

My family moved to a little desert town in the United States during one of the hottest months of the year. But among the Latter-day Saint kids, my reception was cold.
I was 15, and my family had already moved 10 times, so it wasn’t as if I didn’t know how to make friends. I tried everything I knew to break the ice, but after five months I still didn’t have a single friend who was a member of the Church.
Luckily, I had lots of good nonmember friends at school. But that didn’t make it any easier at early-morning seminary and church. I actually sat through five months of seminary without anyone saying hello to me, except my seminary teacher. And in my Sunday School class there was always one empty seat between me and everyone else.
Tom Jeppson* was the ringleader of the LDS kids. He had never really said anything to me. In fact, I wasn’t even sure he had noticed me until one morning when he met me at the seminary doors.
“Go home. We don’t want you here,” he said.
I started to laugh. He had to be joking, right? But when I looked at his face, I knew he wasn’t kidding. I looked at the others standing close behind him. They didn’t say anything, which I figured meant they agreed.
As I turned away, I heard the doors slam behind me and muffled laughter.
I’m never going to seminary again, I swore to myself as I walked the short distance to the high school. It is all their fault.
That day seemed like it would never end. After school I rode the bus to my street, but I didn’t go home. I went to my seminary teacher’s house. He lived a few doors down from me, and I really liked him. In fact, I liked his whole family.
He usually gave me a ride to seminary each morning, so I wanted to tell him not to worry about picking me up anymore. Actually, what I really wanted was some sympathy.
Sister Murray answered the door. Brother Murray wasn’t home yet, but she invited me in for a drink of lemonade. It wasn’t long before I was telling her the whole story. She was sympathetic until I said I wasn’t going to seminary anymore and that I might not go to church ever again.
“If this is really the true Church, people wouldn’t act like that,” I said.
I expected her to plead with me to come back. I wanted her to tell me she would talk to all the kids’ parents and get them in a lot of trouble. I thought she would be ready to do almost anything to keep me active. Instead she said, “Well, fine. You’re not hurting any of those kids by not going. You’re hurting only yourself.”
I was too shocked to say anything. I quickly finished my lemonade and told her I had to go.
I stayed away from seminary and church for three weeks. My seminary teacher called a few times to check on me. I missed seminary, but I was too proud to admit it. I kept telling myself everyone was probably feeling pretty guilty they had made me become inactive. I told myself they would be in trouble on judgment day.
Still, I couldn’t forget what Sister Murray had said about me hurting only myself. And then, one day when I was reading the Book of Mormon, a scripture caught my eye: “See that ye do all things in worthiness, and do it in the name of Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God; and if ye do this, and endure to the end, ye will in nowise be cast out” (Morm. 9:29).
As I read the words, the Spirit filled my heart and I realized Sister Murray was right. Sure, the kids had been real jerks. But they couldn’t keep me away from the Church if I was determined to be there. And best of all, they couldn’t cast me out in the end, when it really mattered—not if I endured.
I got out of bed and set my alarm for 5:00 A.M., so I wouldn’t miss seminary the next day.
We lived in that hot, windy desert town for five more months and nothing really changed—except my heart. For the first time, I understood that no one was responsible for my salvation but me. I didn’t miss another day of seminary or church. And although the LDS kids were still cold, it didn’t matter. I was filled with the warmth of the gospel.

One day my English teacher was telling us how she thought Clinton Central didn’t welcome new students and left others out. A week later I received the October 1987 New Era. As I was glancing through it, the story “Everyone Belongs” caught my eye. While I was reading, all I could think about was how much this school in the story sounded like my own. Since I am a class officer, I felt I could try to do something.
I showed the story to my English teacher, who is also my freshman class adviser. While the class was doing the assigned homework, she read the story. I couldn’t help but notice a tear running down her face. When she had finished reading she said she thought we as a school needed to do something to make everyone feel as if they belonged. She had me take the story to Mrs. Pearson, who is in charge of the student council and to Mr. Thompson, who is in charge of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes at Clinton Central.
I know this article is going to affect many people at my school, and I can already see the efforts being made to include others by those who have read it.

One of the greatest challenges Tina faces is resisting peer pressure. In her school, many students engage in activities that go against gospel principles, such as vaping. “When I started high school, I was unsure if I should be friends with some people because they didn’t always make good choices,” Tina shares. Instead of giving in, she decided to surround herself with friends who support her standards. “I wanted to be in an environment that helps me choose the right. I didn’t want to be pressured into stuff that I know isn’t right,” she explains.