Gospel Story Finder

In my years of service as a Relief Society visiting teacher, I have had many spiritual experiences. One of them, several years ago, continues to be gratifying.
My companion and I were assigned to visit the widow Anderson (the name is fictitious) and her two children who were grown but who were both at home because of mental retardation. After several months of pleasant visits with the widow, we had met her son but not her daughter, Laura, who we learned was very shy. We were told that whenever Laura would see or hear anyone coming, she would go to her room.
One Saturday afternoon, after attending a Relief Society seminar, I decided I would stop by the Anderson home for our monthly visit, since earlier calls had not found anyone home. I had been touched deeply by one comment in the seminar. One of the speakers had said, “When you do your visiting teaching, do you make a real effort to serve your sisters or are you just eager to check their name off your list each month after you have been in their home?” That struck me forcefully because after several months of visiting the Anderson family, we had made no real effort to get to know Laura. I had a prayer in my heart that I might find Laura at home that afternoon and have a chance to talk with her.
When I rang the doorbell, Sister Anderson answered and invited me into the living room. Then she quickly excused herself to check something on the stove. There was Laura! She was sitting in a rocking chair with her leg on a footstool.
At first she seemed startled by my presence, but after I stooped down and inquired about her foot, she was calmed.
I felt the Holy Spirit touch me in a quiet, humbling way, and as thoughts came to my mind, I would speak them to Laura. “I wish you would come to Relief Society,” I said. “It would be special for all of us to feel your beautiful spirit.”
“I would love to come,” she replied, “but I have a large growth on my foot. I have hardly been able to wear shoes for months, and I have real pain when I try to walk.”
I looked at her foot again. Yes, there was a large growth. I could see it now, and I could see the difficulty of her going to church or anywhere else without a great deal of help.
Then the Spirit prompted, “Her foot problem is your problem now. What are you going to do about it?”
“Should I take her to the doctor?” I thought, and the Spirit urged, “Yes; now.”
“This moment?” I thought.
“Yes,” was the prompting.
“Laura,” I said, “can I help you with your foot? My husband’s uncle is a doctor. He’s off today, and he lives just across the street from our house. Will you go with me to his home so we can ask him if he can help you?”
Laura looked at me for a few moments with trust shining from her yes. “Yes,” she said. “It will take me a few moments to get ready. Will you help me?”
I helped her get up and walked with her into her room. I was touched by the simple beauty I saw there. How many hours and how many years had Laura sat on that bed, alone with her thoughts and feelings? As I stood in the doorway watching her gather some things together, I felt the power of the Holy Ghost more powerfully than before. I felt as if the Master were standing by me.
Tears came to my eyes. The Lord was actually aware of this act on behalf of Laura! In a flash, the Savior’s life and teachings took on a great simplicity. “Feed my sheep,” he had said. “Love one another.” (John 13:34.)
I checked with Laura’s mother, who was pleased that I would take such an interest in Laura. She had thought the growth an inalterable result of the polio Laura had when she was thirteen.
We went to the doctor. Yes, Laura’s foot ailment was a consequence of her polio, but it could be resolved. He put me in touch with a foot doctor, a member of the Church, who agreed to see Laura in a few days.
After the specialist examined Laura’s foot, he came out to the waiting room. “Are you Laura’s sister?” he asked.
“Well, she calls me Sister Hinze. I’m her sister in the gospel,” I said.
He smiled, understanding. “She told me to come and talk to her sister who was waiting here for her.
“She needs immediate surgery,” he continued. “with that done, Laura should walk almost perfectly for the first time in twenty-five years.
“And Sister Hinze—if there’s any problem with finances, I’ll gladly do the surgery free.” He smiled again, and I knew the Spirit had affected him as well.
Laura had the surgery. Everything went well. My visiting teaching companion and I went to see her the next day in the hospital. Laura looked radiant. She was up and walking around and thrilled at the new prospect of mobility.
Her foot healed rapidly. It wasn’t very long until all the bandages were off and she was free to go anywhere she wanted. By this time we were making almost weekly trips to Laura’s home to check on her progress. One morning as I was talking with her, the Spirit prompted, “Now that her foot is better and she is able to walk properly, you need to help her find something meaningful to do with her time.”
I wasn’t surprised by that prompting, but I was a little overwhelmed, realizing as I never had before how the Lord desires us to strengthen one another and care for one another.
I talked about Laura with her mother. She seemed grateful for my concern and asked for my help. After praying, I discussed the promptings I received with my visiting teaching companion and with my husband. Then we did our homework on this assignment.
There was a special school for the handicapped in a nearby community, and my psychologist husband suggested we ask a friend of his there for help. This friend made an appointment for Laura and me at the school.
When I picked up Laura that afternoon, her mother had bought her a new outfit. The clothes were simple and humble, but Laura looked beautiful. She was also nervous. This was a special day for her, a day of new adventure. She wasn’t sure she could cope with school, yet she wanted with all her heart to succeed.
The school administrators treated Laura royally. She was thrilled as they escorted us around the school and told us about their two-part program: classes part of the day and a work opportunity the other part. Laura would actually earn money! Something beyond her furthest dreams just a few months earlier.
As we sat at the desk to fill out the papers, the director said, “Mrs. Hinze, we are thrilled that Laura can join us here at our school. May I put your name and address on the form to keep you informed of her progress? However, I don’t know what to call you on the form—friend? supporter? advocate? Yes, I think I’ll call you advocate. Laura’s advocate. Is that all right with you?”
Tears of gratitude filled my eyes. “Advocate would be just fine.”

I was eating a lot of junk food and wanted to be healthy, so I decided to make a New Year’s resolution not to eat any candy for a month. Whenever I got candy I saved it in a jar. At the end of the month, I would share the candy with other people.
In the first week of January, I felt like I wasn’t doing very well because I had already eaten three pieces of candy. When I realized I wasn’t following my resolution, I decided to pray about it. It helped! After the first month, I decided to do it for a whole year. I haven’t had a piece of candy now for 14 months! My goal was to save 400 pieces by the end of the year, but I have saved 731 pieces of candy instead.
It has been really hard at times, but it has gotten easier and easier. At school we got candy several times a week for rewards. In Primary we received candy for memorizing scriptures, Articles of Faith, and other things, all of which I did. I just saved my candy in my candy jar.
I feel like I have learned a lot of self-control and can do anything I put my mind to with Heavenly Father’s help. I now set my alarm with my twin sister, Clair, at 6:25, and we get up and do personal scripture study with my older brother, John Taylor, and my mom.
I try to be healthy and eat lots of fruits and vegetables. I feel really good. I know Heavenly Father is proud of how I am treating my body. I feel like I can sacrifice more things now in lots of areas of my life.

Another brother, Craig (7), is known as a hero at the local elementary school because he donated half his birthday money to a fund-raising activity for victims in New York and Washington, D.C. Craig was also a hero in preschool when he had the courage to invite his teacher to the open house of the Louisville Kentucky Temple (Louisville is just across the river from Jeffersonville). Both the teacher and her husband attended. “She said it was beautiful,” Craig remembers.

I felt so different from everyone my age. Even if I was invited to hang out with friends and my parents encouraged me to go, I struggled to have fun because I felt guilty that my parents had so much to do at home. Other times I would have a hard time enjoying myself when Barbara was struggling with her health. Most of the time, I just wanted a friend to sit down with me and listen.
Sometimes I felt like no one understood what I was going through. But a few things helped remedy that loneliness. I decided I’d try to reach out to people who might be feeling similarly. When I did go to activities or church, I tried to include those who were sitting alone or who looked like they were having a bad day. As Elder Gerrit W. Gong of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, “Miracles occur when we care for each other as He would.”1 And I saw miracles come into my life. I felt much more comfortable going to activities and was happier when I offered love to others.

I went to FSY with the intention of trying to strengthen my testimony. I wanted to gain a strong testimony of the Church and the gospel. I have been going to this church for a very long time with my family, ever since I was a little kid, and there have definitely been times where I did question if this was truly the right church. Was is just like every other church or was it different?
Attending FSY was one of the best decisions I had ever made. It felt amazing to be surrounded with people who have the same standards and goals as me. I felt the Spirit so strong during every single one of the Natarajans’ workshops. I had the greatest feeling of comfort and peace every second I was there.
During Elder Bednar’s visit, in the middle of the Q&A session, a strong feeling came over me and I heard a voice say, “This is the true Church” over and over again. My eyes were filled with tears and I had never felt so strong about the gospel before. I was filled with assurance and comfort that this is the true Church.
I did get what I was looking for at FSY. I got my answer about the Church and I really do know that this is the true Church and that the Book of Mormon is the true word of God. I can feel it each time I read the Book of Mormon. I love this gospel and I am truly blessed to have it in my life.

Susanna can still remember the good feelings she had when she was baptized. A week before her baptism she had a dream she remembers very clearly. In the dream she saw a huge mountain in front of her and a path that went straight to the top of the mountain. She saw another path that went sideways up the mountain, but it seemed well lit. She chose the sideways path and soon found herself in deep darkness. She had a sad feeling and turned around.

“Sometimes we choose the wrong path,” she says, “but we can always turn around and find the way to Heavenly Father.” Susanna is courageous enough to always find her way!

Come 2021, my conversion to the gospel felt sturdy. I was committed to prayer, scripture study, and attending virtual church during COVID to propel my ongoing transformation. Yet I still didn’t have the power of God that was required for my specific life circumstance. I was struggling with ongoing mental health concerns, battling to maintain sobriety from substance abuse, and dealing with other life struggles out of my control—all during a season of relentless traumas resulting from the pandemic. I was determined to handle it myself, but in truth, I required the Redeemer—I literally needed to be saved!
Our prophet’s words that Jesus Christ was with me as I faced these mountains offered hope.
“Everything good in life—every potential blessing of eternal significance—begins with faith. Allowing God to prevail in our lives begins with faith that He is willing to guide us. True repentance begins with faith that Jesus Christ has the power to cleanse, heal, and strengthen us.”3
I had faith in the Savior but wasn’t sure how to connect with His power. I wanted to take the sacrament and be in the temple. Both were out of reach during this time of disappointment, grief, white-knuckled sobriety, and home seclusion.
Over time, even with frequent prayer, I couldn’t cope on my own another day. After another family cancer diagnosis, this time for my spouse, I relapsed and reached for alcohol in desperate escape. I hit my lowest point ever, but all I wanted was to be near Christ. I felt hopeless in my imperfect faith, believed I had sinned terribly, and thought God was disappointed.
At this heartbreaking point, I exercised my last ounce of faith to surrender my will to God. I needed access to His power through the priesthood. I couldn’t move forward on my own.
So in meek faith I requested a priesthood blessing.
Knowing my struggles, friends felt inspired to bless me with renewed capacity and counsel. Through the Spirit, I was told that all my progress hadn’t been lost and that I should seek professional resources in support of my mental health struggles. Most important, I was blessed to realize the healing power of my Savior, that Jesus and God would make up the difference as I put forth my effort with a deepened faith in Them.
Hearing specific priesthood promises gave me hope that God’s power would now set me on a healing course.
“Faith will always propel us forward. Faith always increases our access to godly power.”4
With renewed faith in Jesus Christ, I found that the priesthood blessing—given in His name and by His authority—provided the springboard I needed. I reached for my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ to strengthen my connection to Them daily. I made immediate and significant progress. God placed resources to support my mental health struggles. Daily preoccupations with alcohol were eradicated. I immersed myself in wholesome media and deep gospel education, honored the Sabbath, improved my language, talked of the Savior throughout each day, and created a sacred space in my home for prayer.
I now understand that the Savior is my advocate, my friend, my champion, my encourager, and my healer through His atoning gift of love. This was my game changer in connecting with Him. He helped me reprioritize, leaving behind the cares and habits that weren’t serving my soul. Miraculously, as I’ve made prayer and spiritual habits more meaningful, I’ve received personal revelation! I accept increased guidance from the Spirit for how my family can keep moving toward Him.
“He works miracles today, and He will work miracles tomorrow.”5
Since April 2021 conference, these promises have proved true as I’ve helped my family faithfully follow God’s path. The heavens are opened, and miracles have been showered upon us:
Fear is replaced with safety through the healing power of Jesus Christ.
I’m blessed with influence to bring a more nurturing presence to our lives.
The Holy Ghost is present in our home. Our children delight in daily scriptures, family prayer, Christian music, and pictures of Jesus and temples.
My husband, Jason, has been baptized, holds the Aaronic Priesthood, and is preparing to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood.
Preoccupations with unhealthy escape have lessened. My past self, doing her best at the time, would reach for chemicals to cope. Now I come in prayer for strength.
I have received my temple endowment and now attend the temple regularly. Jason is preparing to receive his endowment, and our goal is to be sealed as a family sometime in 2022.
Our birth son is grown, has been accepted to pre-med but has decided to serve a mission first, and is enjoying the relationship between our two families.
In an ongoing process, I’m in programs to address mental health, where God has shown His hand throughout.
Despite ongoing trials of family deaths, layoffs, cancer, and sobriety, I now realize that I have access to God’s tenderness through the gospel of Jesus Christ.
The promises of power through priesthood blessings strengthen my life exponentially.
Mercifully, I’ve grown a sincere relationship with my Savior and Eternal Father.

In England, teenaged John Taylor was walking with a friend when he felt the impression that he needed to go to America.
John: I feel a strong impression to go to America to preach the gospel.
However, John had to wait. His family left for America and left him to sell their land and other possessions.
Father: John, we need you to stay back and sell the land. Then come as soon as you can.
John: All right, Father. I will do my best.
Two years after his family left, he had sold their land and taken care of other family affairs. He was soon sailing to America.
John: I’m finally on my way to America!
During the trip, a terrible storm arose and lasted for a week. Others thought that the ship would sink, but John was calm. He knew that Heavenly Father had work for him to do in America and would keep him safe.
Man: This is the worst storm I’ve ever seen!
John: The Lord hasn’t brought me this far to let me die in the middle of the ocean.
After arriving in the United States, John went to Toronto, Canada, to find his family. He set up a carpenter shop and continued going to church.
John: Hello, everyone!
Family: John! You’ve come at last!
After his conversion to the Church in Canada, John Taylor returned to England to serve a mission. He also served in Ireland, France, and the British Isles.

Acting as Joseph’s scribe thrilled Oliver. Day after day, he listened as his friend dictated the complex history of two large civilizations, the Nephites and the Lamanites. He learned of righteous and wicked kings, of people who fell into captivity and were delivered from it, of an ancient prophet who used seer stones to translate records recovered from fields filled with bones. Like Joseph, that prophet was a revelator and seer blessed with the gift and power of God.28
The record testified again and again of Jesus Christ, and Oliver saw how prophets led an ancient church and how ordinary men and women did the work of God.
Yet Oliver still had many questions about the Lord’s work, and he hungered for answers. Joseph sought a revelation for him through the Urim and Thummim, and the Lord responded. “If you will ask of me you shall receive,” He declared. “If thou wilt inquire, thou shalt know mysteries which are great and marvelous.”
The Lord also urged Oliver to remember the witness he had received before coming to Harmony, which Oliver had kept to himself. “Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God?” the Lord asked. “If I have told you things which no man knoweth have you not received a witness?”29
Oliver was astonished. He immediately told Joseph about his secret prayer and the divine witness he had received. No one could have known about it except God, he said, and he now knew the work was true.

Thomas Giles, a Welsh convert who joined the Church in 1844, also suffered much in his lifetime. He was a miner, and while he was digging coal in the mine, a large piece of coal hit him on the head and inflicted a wound nine inches long. The doctor who examined him said the injured man would not live longer than 24 hours. But then the elders came and administered to him. He was promised that he would get well, and that “even if he would never see again, he would live to do much good in the Church.” Brother Giles did indeed live but was blind the rest of his life. Within a month of his injury “he was out traveling through the country attending to his ecclesiastical duties.”

In 1856 Brother Giles and his family immigrated to Utah, but before he left his homeland, the Welsh Saints presented him with a harp, which he learned to play skillfully. At Council Bluffs he joined a handcart company and headed west. “Though blind he pulled a handcart from Council Bluffs to Salt Lake City.” While crossing the plains his wife and two children died. “His sorrow was great and his heart almost broken, but his faith did not fail him. In the midst of his grief he said as did one of old, ‘The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord.’” When Brother Giles arrived in Salt Lake City, President Brigham Young, who had heard his story, loaned Brother Giles a valuable harp until his own arrived from Wales. Brother Giles “traveled from settlement to settlement in Utah, … gladdening the hearts of the people with his sweet music.”

Outside it was foggy and drizzly. But Juliana J. of Hatchet Lake, Nova Scotia, Canada, didn’t mind. She was feeling very warm inside as she and her family walked around the Halifax Nova Scotia Temple. She had just finished doing baptisms for the dead for her first time.
Going to the temple was actually the main reason Juliana had been excited to turn 12. Her older sisters and brother had been telling her about it for a long time, and she couldn’t wait to feel the Spirit there for herself.
But when her 12th birthday came, Juliana and her family were on vacation. When they stopped to see the Salt Lake Temple, she didn’t have her recommend yet, so she couldn’t go inside. Big disappointment!
On her first Sunday back home, Juliana made sure she had her recommend interview with her bishop. Then she had to wait a few more weeks until it was her ward’s Mutual temple visit.
Finally, the special day came. Juliana got dressed in her Sunday clothes. Her oldest sister helped by braiding Juliana’s long hair. Juliana’s family went with her to the temple. “She was so excited, she was vibrating!” her mom said.
Afterward, Juliana and her family walked around the temple together taking pictures. That’s a family tradition, come rain or snow. It’s a tradition that Juliana looks forward to repeating many more times.

When I discovered that my beloved eternal companion had become ensnared by pornography, I experienced the intense pain a wife in such a situation suffers. It is a deep sense of soul sickness, betrayal, and spiritual agony. It feels like the very roots of a precious eternal marriage have been yanked out of the safety and protection of gospel ground and, exposed to all the elements, begin to wilt and die. There is a sense of panic. The safety and peace of the marriage relationship evaporate. Trust, respect, honor, love, priesthood—all are deeply injured.
For some months I had known something was not right. My husband and I had always been close, and our marriage had been very happy. But now there was an emotional distance, a barrier of some kind between us.
My husband loved the gospel and had been strong and faithful, but now he seemed distant from the Lord. He seemed to have lost his desire to participate in the sacrament and to attend the temple. I rarely saw him on his knees in personal prayer, and his heart did not seem to be in our family prayers and scripture study. There was a darkness about him, and he seemed deeply unhappy, even angry inside.
I was so frightened—for him and for us—because I suspected Internet pornography. He had been spending a lot of time on the Internet alone in his office, especially late at night, and he kept his computer password-protected. I tried to talk to him about this, though I hardly knew how to go about it. He fiercely denied having a problem, attributing his behavior to work-related stress.
On occasion I would read a quote by the Brethren about the evils of pornography, and my husband would agree heartily with what was said, even making perceptive comments. And he assured me that he loved me. Yet I could not shake the feeling that there was a serious problem. Although I prayed for him and kept his name on the temple prayer roll, I could feel my precious husband slipping from the safety of the gospel.
Finally, believing the scriptures that say “ask, and ye shall receive” (see, for example, John 16:24; 3 Nephi 27:29), I went to Heavenly Father, pleading to know what was wrong. This was not easy for me, for if the problem was what I suspected, I did not know how I would deal with it. How I hoped he was not involved in pornography! But I knew that whatever the problem was, Heavenly Father would help my husband and me. I asked for humility and courage to change whatever I needed to change in myself. I told Heavenly Father how much I loved my husband and how I wanted our marriage to be joyful and eternal. I made a commitment to attend the temple weekly, fasting for my husband.
Within only a few weeks, my husband, sick with the flu, went to bed, leaving his computer on. As I started to shut it down, I suddenly felt I should check it. There was the pornography.
In the midst of the flood of feelings that nearly overwhelmed me, I knew my discovery was an answer to my prayers. I don’t know how long I was on my knees or how long my cheeks were wet with tears, but as I poured out my heart to Heavenly Father, the comfort made possible by the Atonement of our Savior began to fill my soul. My pain and fear were lifted. Spiritual insights flowed into my mind and heart. I saw that my husband and I and our eternal marriage were precious to Heavenly Father, and I knew that He would help us.
Us. I understood with great clarity that this was not my husband’s problem alone. I could not, must not, passively stand by and hope he would conquer the problem by himself. I needed to be an active participant in this battle. It would not be easy, but if I continued to be faithful and obedient, trusting in the Lord, I would not fight alone.
As I prayed I saw my husband in a different light, a brighter light. I already knew he had overcome much adversity in his life, and now I saw that he was willing to fight for his eternal life and our eternal marriage. I saw his underlying love and faith in Heavenly Father and the Savior and his love for me, but I also saw that love, faith, and trust were not always easy for him to develop.
I saw that I should help him develop trust in Heavenly Father and the Savior. Such trust would give him the strength to face this addiction head on by going to Heavenly Father in humble prayer to plead for forgiveness, strength, and release from the demon that plagued him.
Empowered by the Lord, I began to take steps. I discontinued our Internet service, feeling strongly impressed that if my husband was to heal, he needed to get away from the temptation. Others in this situation may receive a different answer, but for us, discontinuing our Internet service for a time was a great blessing. Once my husband was away from the temptation for a few days, he acknowledged how much this had helped him. He told me he had tried to overcome this sin alone and thought he was strong enough. Then, as he failed, he felt ashamed and tried to hide his sin from me and from God. But now he was feeling hope! We cried together. We prayed together.
We asked for a priesthood blessing from a dear friend, the man who had baptized my husband years before. In the blessing my husband was assured several times that the Lord loved him. He was counseled to trust and confide in me, and he was blessed with the ability to know right from wrong—a great help, as pornography use warps a person’s moral judgment.
This blessing strengthened both of us. I continued my own increased personal spiritual efforts: frequent fasting, much prayer, temple attendance, and immersion in the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon. Our scripture study and prayers together began to be sweet again.
Knowing that I needed to acquire knowledge by my own efforts as well as through prayer, I read everything I could find from General Authorities regarding pornography, and I also read material written by Latter-day Saint professionals. My husband and I counseled with our priesthood leaders, who encouraged our efforts and expressed their faith that we would win this battle.
I felt impressed to talk frankly with my husband. I never underplayed or made any excuses for his sin. I talked with him about this subject only according to what came to me in prayer and only when the time felt right. I received so much guidance and inspiration!
If my hurt resurfaced—and it did on occasion, especially at first—I took it to Heavenly Father in prayer. I made extra efforts to show my husband that my love for him was deep. He needed to know we were a team and that together we would fight the enemy. His wife, his best friend, would stand by him. What a sweet experience it was for me to see his repentance process bringing light back into his life!
I loved my husband for the strong, good man I knew he was. From my reading I knew that pornography use robs a person of feelings of self-worth, so I did all I could to help him rebuild faith in himself. I also learned to acknowledge my failures and weaknesses to my husband more readily than I had before, and I asked for his advice and counsel more often. I was humbled and grateful for his insights and support. This strengthened us both.
I worked hard to share many positive, fun experiences with my husband. I wanted to let the light in so he could feel and savor the difference. We went on many walks and took peaceful drives in the country, enjoying the beauty of God’s creations. I felt this would help fortify him against temptation if it came again and would help refocus our lives on the good and the beautiful.
Then the company my husband worked for began struggling and edged toward bankruptcy. Many lost their jobs, including my husband. This was emotionally devastating for him, yet we were confident that with his background and skills, he would soon find another job.
We were wrong. Months went by with no job. It became harder for him to ward off discouragement. My husband was very vulnerable. I knew this but didn’t know what more to do. We had resumed Internet service but with filtering. He was home while I worked, spending a lot of time on the Internet searching for jobs. One day he disabled the filter—never assume that a computer-literate person cannot bypass any filtering! I discovered the relapse quickly. At first I felt frightened. Would we have to start all over again? Then I realized my husband had made it easy for me to discover what he had done. He really wanted to overcome this! Again we cried and prayed together, and we drew even closer to one another.
As I prayed, the familiar calming assurance came. I felt we would overcome this problem. We realized this addiction was stronger than we had thought. My husband agreed to use the Internet only when we were both home. Only I would have the password until he felt stronger.
One great blessing that came to him at this time was that he found a temporary job that led to the good job he has now. My husband felt grateful for this blessing, which he saw as evidence of Heavenly Father’s tender mercies in his life.
When my husband had stayed away from pornography long enough, according to the time frame set by our bishop, his temple recommend was renewed. While he had certainly tasted the bitterness of sin, the joy he felt in his repentance was as exquisite as Alma expresses (see Alma 36:21). I still remember the bounce in his step as he came out of the bishop’s office. A heavy burden had been lifted.
As I write this years later, my heart still overflows with gratitude for the many blessings that came out of this experience. My husband’s love for Heavenly Father and the Savior has grown immeasurably, as has his faith. He has more humility. We both have a deeper appreciation for the Savior’s Atonement. With Heavenly Father and the Savior to lean on, we overcame a real and powerful Goliath. We face the future hand in hand, knowing that with trust in the Lord, we can overcome all things.

Two years ago we took our dog, Jake, with us to Grandma and Grandpa’s house for Christmas. Jake ran off right before a really bad snowstorm. My dad drove around looking for him for a couple of hours, but could not find him.
My dad called our family together and told us that Jake was lost and that we needed Heavenly Father’s help to find him. We knelt together, and my dad asked me to say the prayer. I asked Heavenly Father to let some nice people find him and take care of him and help him come home to us because we loved him.
My prayer was answered. Some nice people found him in a cow pasture. They cleaned him up and fed him. The next morning they called us, and we picked him up. Heavenly Father helped Jake stay safe as he crossed a busy road, and He led nice people to help him. I know Heavenly Father answers prayers because He answered mine.Dwight P., age 6, with help from his mom, Utah

In September 2020, with the declining health of our parents and the instability of the COVID-19 pandemic, we relocated my sweet 83-year-old parents from their home of 45 years in Las Vegas, Nevada, to Cedar Hills, Utah, to be closer to family, making it easier for us to help care for them.
As you can imagine, this move was difficult for them on many levels. Residing in Las Vegas for most of their married years, they enjoyed their independence and the relationships they built there. They owned a lovely home and prided themselves on having an open door when family passed through. Giving up home ownership after 66 years and downsizing into a small rental home in a new state was challenging. Now they had to say goodbye to everything familiar to them, including friends they’d shared years of memories and experiences with and people they’d grown close to while serving in various callings.
At the time of the move, Church meetings were held remotely. Our parents worried how they would be able to get to know the people of their new ward when there was no opportunity to go to church and build new friendships. How could they possibly feel at home in these circumstances?
We found them a small rental home in a neighborhood in the Cedar Hills Sixth Ward, unaware of what a special place it would turn out to be.
Because we had simplified their belongings for the move and didn’t need assistance with moving bulky items, we hadn’t contacted the ward leadership to announce their arrival. That didn’t matter. Within five minutes of our pulling in with the moving van, neighbors arrived at the door, gloves on, asking how they could help. Homemade muffins were delivered and cold drinks offered to our family members helping with the move.
On Thursday of that week, members of the Relief Society presidency visited to introduce themselves and welcome our parents to the ward. On Sunday the bishop came to meet them and inquire whether they needed anything. He spent almost an hour with them, genuinely getting to know them and asking if they’d be willing to take ministering assignments.
Within two weeks of their arrival, they had ministering brothers and sisters assigned to them and were contacted by both. They also received ministering assignments and were introduced to their assigned families. Even with Mom’s late-stage dementia, her ministering companion made the effort to invite her and bring her along as they visited the sisters they were assigned to. The ministering brothers were consistent, loving, and genuine. They immediately found a commonality with roots from Wyoming, and my parents felt loved from the first visit.
Later that month the youth of the ward secretly covered their front door with notes of welcome and love. The first week of November, some deacons asked if they could come by and meet Mom and Dad. About seven young men and their leaders spent time with them, introducing themselves through get-to-know-you topics such as favorite foods, where they went to school, and what they did for after-school activities. The deacons followed up by asking our parents questions about how things were when they grew up and how they met.
These youth continued to come by at least monthly, sometimes just to drop off a treat or to check in. They caroled at Christmastime and brought a lovely holiday basket of food and treats. Because of these simple kindnesses, Dad could call the boys by name when he saw them and had a sense of familiarity with the ward, even though they weren’t able to meet in person for Sunday meetings.
A girl in the ward was invited in her home evening to say hello to someone new, and she chose Mom and Dad. She proceeded to build a relationship with them, coming over almost every day with a treat or to drop off a flower she had picked from her yard.
Our parents were asked to create a short video introducing themselves that was shown at the ward Christmas party. Every time there was a ward activity or gathering, our parents were reminded and offered a ride by someone. Special treats and hand-colored cards were delivered on their birthdays and holidays, and kind neighbors shoveled their driveway, sprayed the lawn for dandelions, and pulled their trash cans in every week. The ward members made a special effort to call them by name, recognized them at the grocery store, and helped them feel like they belonged.
Just four months after moving into this new ward, Dad fell and broke his hip while visiting a family member in St. George in southern Utah. This accident required surgery and an extended stay in a care facility 250 miles (400 km) from his new home. When we told his ministering brother about the incident, he immediately contacted the Primary president, who started a letter-writing and picture-coloring campaign with the Primary children and other ward members. They sent him mail and coloring pages almost every day. The abundance of attention led the workers at the St. George nursing home to ask if he was some sort of celebrity, as they had never had a patient receive so much mail. Since this was during the height of COVID, he couldn’t have visitors, so this daily written interaction was a gift of service beyond description.
With Mom’s dementia, one activity she was drawn to was sweeping. A kind neighbor recognized this and allowed her to come and sweep around them as they pulled bushes from their front yard, all the while making Mom feel like she was the one providing the service.
Dad was invited to participate in the ward choir and made to feel he was a valued addition. At age 84, he was called to work in the Young Men organization as a specialist with the deacons, gaining a feeling of relevance and contribution.
After only a year, they felt at home, that they mattered, that they could still make a difference. They were never made to feel like they were a burden or just “another renter” in the neighborhood. My heart is full as I contemplate the Lord’s words in Matthew 25:40: “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” Well done, Cedar Hills Sixth Ward!

I remember my missionary farewell. Being the proud young man that I was, when it was Dad’s turn to speak, I thought that he was going to say something about me—what a good missionary I’d be, what a good boy I’d been. But Dad did not say one thing about me. He stood at the pulpit and gave one of the strongest, most powerful testimonies about tithing that I have ever heard. It wasn’t until about halfway through my mission, as I was thinking about his talk, that it dawned on me: Dad had been trying to tell me, “I don’t know how we’re going to support you, Jay, because I don’t have work some seasons of the year. But I have faith that if we pay our tithing, we’ll be able to do it.” And they did. Our priesthood leaders have told us to pay our tithing and to do missionary work, and if we faithfully follow their counsel, we will be blessed.

I had an experience that illustrates this concept. While I was serving as Relief Society president in our ward, my husband was asked to serve as elders quorum group leader while the quorum president was gone for the summer. When we received word that the quorum president would not be returning, we discussed the possibility of my husband filling this position. We disregarded it, however, feeling that both of us filling such demanding and time-consuming jobs would be too hard on our three preschoolers.
But still I felt the inclination to pray about it. One night as I was praying the thought came clearly into my mind that if the Lord called my husband to this position, we were to recognize it as an indication to us that He felt it was possible for us to handle the assignment. If we would be wise in our planning, our children would not suffer. When my husband was called by the stake president and sustained to this position the next week, I saw the fulfillment of the promptings I had received. Prior to being called, my husband had also received witness from the Holy Ghost that this was the position he was to fill at this time.

George hurried through the woods, munching absentmindedly on a corn dodger stuffed with strips of home-cured meat. He glanced about at the bright ferns and wild flowers poking up through the forest floor as he went, but his thoughts were not on them. Ordinarily he would have stopped now and then to study a beetle crawling over a stem or to wonder why certain tiny flowers flourished in shade while others wilted without sunshine, but not today. He had someplace special to go on this Indian summer day in 1871.
George was heading toward the school in Diamond Grove, Missouri, about a mile away from where he lived with Aunt Susan and Uncle Moses. They were the white folks who had taken him in after he was orphaned. George recalled Aunt Sue talking to the neighbors about their children’s schooling, and now he was going to find out what it was all about. Though he was ten years old he had never been in a school.
George was slight for his age, and his voice was permanently damaged as the result of a babyhood illness that never quite left him. But he made up for it with his sharp, hungry mind. He wondered about everything he saw, even small things that everyone else ignored. Perhaps the boy felt that their small size, like his own, didn’t make them unimportant.
When George reached a clearing and spotted the small, dingy cabin that was used for a schoolhouse, he paused a moment. It doesn’t look like much, he thought. Then he crept quietly to the doorstep of the little building and crouched there, listening.
What George heard made his heart thump—the droning of children’s voices, interrupted now and then by the sharp voice of the teacher. The students were reading and reciting their lessons!
George sat spellbound for several more minutes; then he stole away as silently as he had come.
I want to read! George thought to himself as he slipped quietly back through the woods. Suddenly, he flopped down in the spongy moss under an oak tree and pondered a while longer. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea.
Back at the farm, George hurried to find Uncle Moses. The hardworking farmer was in the barn, currying one of his fine horses.
“Uncle Moses!” chirped George shrilly.
Moses Carver whirled around to face the barefooted boy.
“You startled me, boy!” he exclaimed. Then he said, “What is it?”
“Uncle M-Moses,” piped George like a little bird. Then he remembered to speak slowly so that he wouldn’t stammer so much. “When can I go to s-school, Uncle Moses? I’m big enough now! C-can I go tomorrow?”
Moses turned away for a moment, rubbing his stubbly chin. “George,” he began, “that school in Diamond Grove …” He paused painfully. “It’s for white children. You can’t go there, son.”
George stared, the shining hope in his eyes dimmed. He wanted so much to learn! He stumbled out of the barn into the bright sunlight. The bloodhounds that Uncle Moses raised for hunting yelped and bayed, but he didn’t hear them. Aunt Sue spied him from the house and called, “George! Could you help me with the jelly this afternoon?” George kept on walking. “George?” she called again.
George broke into a run. He needed to be alone—in his secret garden in the woods. This was a place where he kept many kinds of plants and flowers. He tended them carefully, seeing to their special needs. If a plant wilted in the pure, rich loam of the forest floor, he mixed in sand. If a rosebush were ailing, he tracked down the tiny insects that were nibbling its leaves and made it well. Even the neighbors had taken to calling him the plant doctor, and they brought him their plants and flowers to mend. He hardly ever lost a patient.
“That George has a way with wild things,” they’d say to one another.
Today George scarcely noticed his garden. He just sat silently, hardly aware of the woodsy sounds of twittering birds and scampering squirrels.
There in the quiet of the woods, George tried to sort things out in his mind. There were so many things he did not know, and he wanted to learn everything! I will learn to read and write! he decided. Perhaps Aunt Sue and Uncle Moses will help. There must be some reason why I’m darker than other folks. Up to now it hasn’t made any difference. But if I have to work extra hard for what I want, then that’s what I’ll do.
George started for home, skipping pebbles as he went. That very evening, he and Aunt Sue sat down and looked over an old blue-back speller she had used as a girl. By the light of a tallow dip they practiced words and letters from the book. Then Uncle Moses helped George do simple sums and write his name.
George learned quickly. The neighbors heard about his thirst for knowledge and loaned him books to read.
Uncle Moses nodded knowingly. “That boy’s going to make something of himself,” he told Aunt Sue.
George did indeed make something of himself. He went to school, although he had to leave the home of his family to do it. He wandered the country throughout the West and South, taking jobs wherever a school was located nearby. He finally managed to attend college in Iowa. After graduation and work at the agricultural experiment station there, he was asked by Booker T. Washington to teach at the Tuskegee Institute in Alabama. The folks back home and the friends he had made everywhere he went were very proud of him.
George never stopped learning. He lived to be more than eighty years old and became known throughout the world as Dr. George Washington Carver, distinguished professor, scientist, artist, musician, and inventor. As a chemurgist (one who uses farm products for industrial purposes) he devised more than 300 different uses for peanuts, 118 for sweet potatoes, and 75 for pecans. Perhaps more importantly, he spent a lifetime working to help his people—all people, regardless of race or religious faith.
Although many had been unkind to him along the way, there always seemed to be at least one friendly face encouraging George to go on. He wanted to be that friendly face to as many others as possible. He got his wish. He was an inspiration to thousands in his own country—and to the whole world.

“I want you to finish page twenty-seven in your spelling book tonight,” Mrs. Fielding reminded her class. “And your oral reports on what you want to be when you grow up are due Monday morning.”
The boys and girls buzzed eagerly about their oral reports. Only Carlos sat silently staring at his desk. His friend Robert smiled at him. After six weeks in his new school, Carlos had made only one friend—Robert. Somehow it was easy to talk to Robert.
The recess bell rang, and the chattering class hurried outside.
“Hey, Robert! C’mon! We’re starting a game!” It was Steve, the captain of the class baseball team.
“Great!” Robert called back. “Can Carlos play too?”
Steve hesitated. “I guess so. Is he any good?”
“He’s good,” said Robert. He turned back to Carlos and said, “Come on, Carlos, show them.”
But Carlos pulled back. “No,” he mumbled, “not today. I—I just don’t know how to talk to them. And when I don’t talk, they think I don’t know how to play baseball.”
“Carlos, you’ve got to talk to people,” Robert told his friend. “What are you going to do when you have to give your oral report next week in front of the whole class?”
“I don’t know,” Carlos answered glumly.
Robert smiled encouragingly at his friend. “Come on, Carlos, let’s play catch and not worry about it now. We’ll think of something for your report.” He tossed the ball to Carlos. “It’s easy to have friends. Just show them you’re friendly.”
After school Robert walked home with Carlos. As they climbed the steps, a man opened the front door.
“Uncle Ernesto!” Carlos yelled excitedly, hugging his uncle.
After he introduced Robert to Uncle Ernesto, Carlos told Robert that his uncle’s hobby was making puppets and putting on plays. “Uncle Ernesto lets me help with the shows sometimes,” said Carlos. They all went inside, and Uncle Ernesto brought out his new puppets to show the boys. Carlos picked one up and demonstrated how the strings made the puppets appear to wave, dance, and even talk.
“Aren’t you nervous doing a show in front of people?” asked Robert, admiring a little donkey puppet.
“Not really,” answered Carlos. “It’s as though I’m one of the puppets instead of me. I feel much braver then.”
“I guess I understand,” said Robert. “I feel that way when I’m a player on the field.” He thought for a moment, gently wiggling the strings on the bullfighter puppet. Suddenly his face lit up and he exclaimed, “Say, Carlos, why don’t you let the puppets give your oral report to the class! You could talk, but everyone would be watching them.”
Carlos grinned happily. “That’s a great idea!”
On Monday three other students gave their reports before Carlos gave his, and everyone was impatient to see what was in the large box he had brought with him. When it was finally Carlos’s turn, he asked for permission to set up a small puppet stage on Mrs. Fielding’s desk.
The curtains opened, and even Robert was surprised to see two baseball player puppets. Carlos made them look as if they were playing catch while they talked about baseball. Carlos really knew a lot about baseball. Steve and the other boys looked at each other in surprise.
The puppets batted and ran and slid, and the class was delighted as they listened eagerly to Carlos’s report.
“You are part of a team,” said one of the puppets in a deep voice, “so you try to do your best for your friends.”
“That’s why I want to be a baseball player,” the second puppet said in Carlos’s natural voice. Then the puppets made funny little bows and bounced off the stage.
The class whispered noisily, and Steve spoke up. “That was great! He really knows the game.” Later, at recess, Steve walked over to Robert and Carlos. “Hey, you guys, let’s play ball. We need you both on the team.”

About a year after my husband and I were married, my youngest brother’s three daughters came to live with us. My husband’s youngest sister and a girlfriend of mine also asked if they could stay with us for a while, and since we didn’t have any children, we welcomed all of them. Suddenly we were no longer just a couple; we were a large family.
Prior to this time, my husband and I were not too serious about holding home evenings because it was just the two of us, but with the new additions to our family, we decided to implement the program earnestly in our home.
From our first family home evening together, our Mondays were never the same, nor will our lives be the same, because of those wonderful experiences. Our usually quiet home started to be filled with music. The children who couldn’t read started to learn and developed a love for it. Those who were shy and hesitant to accept assignments developed confidence and showed eagerness to contribute, even volunteering to do special presentations. There was excitement throughout the week as everyone talked about what we had done the previous Monday night and what we were going to do the next one. Excitement would build as Monday neared and as family members were busy making preparations for their “big surprises.”
The promise of an exciting home evening even became a motivation for all to do their assigned household chores. Each home evening brought insights and discoveries that enriched our lives.
My nieces have since returned to their father, my sister-in-law has moved out on her own, and my girlfriend now lives in a dorm close to the school she’s attending. We’re back to being just a couple again. But we are still having those fun-filled, meaningful home evenings. Sometimes we invite other families to join us, and other times we take pleasure in just getting to know each other better, working out our problems together, and expressing our appreciation for each other. Our themes and activities continue to be simple and focused on meeting our needs.

Over a hundred and eight years ago, some parents in Farmington, Utah, were worried about their children. They wondered how they could help them understand the gospel so that they would live happier lives.
Bishop John Hess was concerned about some of the children in his ward who were staying out late at night, and some who were behaving rowdy. He called a meeting of the mothers in the ward and talked about the importance of guiding the minds of young children.
Sister Aurelia Spencer Rogers was one of the mothers in the Farmington Ward. Aurelia loved children and wanted them to live the gospel. She thought about the things Bishop Hess had said.
Sister Rogers recorded in her journal: “I had reflected seriously upon the necessity of more strict discipline for our little boys. … What will our girls do for good husbands, if this state of things continues? … I had children of my own, and was just as anxious as a mother could be to have them brought up properly. But what was to be done? It needed the united effort of the parents.”
One day Eliza R. Snow, the General President of the Relief Society, had been to a conference in Farmington. The train back to Salt Lake was not due for some time, so Sister Snow decided to visit her friend Aurelia.
Sister Snow had no children of her own, but she had a great interest in them. She was a poet and a teacher and had written songs and stories for little children. She was pleased with Sister Rogers’s idea about an organization for little boys where they could be taught everything good, and how to behave. Sister Snow agreed to discuss the matter with the First Presidency, who later gave approval. A letter was written to Bishop Hess, asking for his permission to organize the children in his ward.
After Bishop Hess received the letter from Sister Snow, he talked with Sister Rogers and asked if she would be willing to preside over an organization of the children. Sister Rogers said: “I felt willing, but very incompetent. From that time my mind was busy thinking how it was to be managed … As singing was necessary, it needed the voices of little girls as well as boys to make it sound as well as it should.” Sister Snow agreed with Sister Rogers. “‘We must have the girls as well as the boys—they must be trained together.’” She suggested that the organization be called “Primary.”
On August 11, 1878, Bishop Hess set apart Sister Rogers and her two counselors, Louisa Haight and Helen Miller. He suggested that they visit every home in the ward during the next two weeks, which they did. They took the names and ages of two hundred twenty-four children and invited them to the first meeting.
The first Primary meeting was held on Sunday, August 25, 1878, in the rock chapel in Farmington.
Sister Rogers said, “Imagine our feelings as we stood before an audience of children who had come there to receive instructions from us. We were very weak indeed, but felt to lean upon the Lord.”
The meeting began with prayer; then the children were given instructions and taught to sing.
The children were asked to “see how much they could do for their fathers and mothers without grumbling.”
Children were also asked to not quarrel with brothers and sisters. Little boys were instructed to not go into orchards and melon patches that weren’t their own, and little girls were told to not hang on to wagons, a practice not only wrong but dangerous.
The reason for Primary is still the same: to help every child learn how to be happy by living the gospel of Jesus Christ. As we radiate the light of the gospel, the world will see how happy we are and want to live the teachings of Jesus too.
Happy birthday, Primary! We are glad to celebrate with eight hundred seventy-five thousand boys and girls everywhere.