Gospel Story Finder

Our older son, Cornel, had stamped in out of the snow for a brief visit after a late afternoon class when the call came. Automatically reaching for the phone, as he had done so often before his recent marriage, he listened briefly, asked, “Where are you?” and began to zip up his parka, still beaded with melting snow. He said, “Okay,” and hung up.
To our questioning looks he answered simply, “Ryan can’t get his car started and needs a push.” At the door he suddenly grinned and said, “I wonder if every family gets as much mileage out of Proverbs 17:17 as we do.”

Emily hurried into the Primary room with the other kids. She loved going to Primary! Ever since Mom was baptized a few weeks ago, Emily loved learning all she could about their new church.

One of the girls in her class waved. “Want to sit by me?” she asked.

“Sure,” Emily said. She smiled and sat down by her new friend. They listened to the piano music.

When it was singing time, Sister Seitz stood up. Emily scooted to the front of her chair. Singing time was her favorite.

“Good morning!” Sister Seitz said. “Today we are going to learn more about the plan of salvation.”

Emily scrunched her eyebrows. The plan of what? She didn’t think she’d ever heard of that before.

“Every one of you lived with Heavenly Father and Jesus in heaven before coming to earth,” Sister Seitz said. “And you were so happy to come here to earth!”

Emily felt a jump of excitement inside her chest. I used to live in heaven before I was born? she thought. And I knew Heavenly Father and Jesus?

Everyone started singing a song she didn’t know. The words were so beautiful!

“I lived in heaven a long time ago, it is true; Lived there and loved there with people I know. So did you.”

Emily had never heard anything about this before. She paid close attention to every word they sang.

“Heavenly Father loves you so much,” Sister Seitz said after the song. “That’s why He created His plan for you. And guess what? You wanted to follow His plan! That’s why you’re here on earth today.”

They sang another song. This one taught about following God’s plan. Emily’s excitement grew bigger and bigger. I chose to follow Heavenly Father’s plan! she thought. That made her so happy!

Next they sang “I Am a Child of God.” It was all about coming to earth and being born into a family. Emily felt warm and peaceful as she thought about her family.

After each song, Sister Seitz taught something new. Emily learned that heaven has three kingdoms and that the highest one is called the celestial kingdom.

After they sang the last song, Emily didn’t want to stop. “Is there more to the story?” she asked.

Sister Seitz pointed at a picture of the sun on the board. It was above some pictures of the moon and stars. The sun represented the celestial kingdom.

“That’s where things keep going and growing,” Sister Seitz said. “That’s where our Heavenly Parents want us to be.”

Emily could hardly stop smiling. I was alive before I came here, she thought again. She couldn’t stop thinking how amazing that sounded. And I can live with Jesus again!

After Primary, she ran up to Sister Seitz.

“Are we going to keep learning about the plan of salvation next week?” she asked.

“We sure can. Did you like it?”

“Yes! I don’t know why, but I felt in my heart that I did choose God’s plan before I came to earth. And I know that Heavenly Father really does love me!”

Sister Seitz gave Emily a huge smile. Her eyes were a little bit shiny.

“Yes, you did,” Sister Seitz said. “And yes, He does love you.”

The plan of salvation is also called the plan of happiness.

Learn more about it on page 24!

Emily bounced on her toes a little. “You know what?” she asked. “I’m going to live my life the best I can. I want to live with Heavenly Father and Jesus and my family in the celestial kingdom!”

Sister Seitz bent down and looked into Emily’s eyes. “Me too,” she said.

Another story about my mother had an even greater impact on me. It shaped how I resolved to live my life.
When I was a priest, my assignment one Sunday was to bless the sacrament in Sunday School. In those days, we took the sacrament during Sunday School in the morning, and then returned for sacrament meeting in the evening.
I had a 1946 Chevy coupe that I had made into a hot rod, and I wanted to compete in some races that were being held that Sunday. I knew that my parents would not approve, so I said nothing. I am ashamed to say it, but I left church and went to the drag races. I raced one time and lost.
When I returned home, my mother was standing at the kitchen sink, finishing up the dinner dishes. I could see tears on her cheeks. I asked, “Mom, what’s the matter?”
She turned and asked, “Son, where have we failed as parents that you feel you can violate the Lord’s holy day?”
I couldn’t bear it! My dear mother was taking the blame and burden for my wrongdoing.
That moment helped me understand more about the Atonement of Jesus Christ, that someone else was willing to bear the burden of my wrong choice. I began to understand how the Savior could do that for me because I saw my mother do it in this instance.

Kaylie: Some people who don’t believe in God feel that the Bible and the law of chastity are out of date. I had some friends in high school who were basically atheist or agnostic—and I had one friend who didn’t really believe in the teachings of her religion. She just lived according to what she wanted, what she felt was right for her. Physical intimacy, from her point of view, is self-gratifying, and anything that would restrict that gratification is undesirable.

I think my friend was surprised that I believed in the Bible and God’s commandments, but I tried to help her understand that I don’t view the commandments as restrictions; I live them because they make me happier. Although we disagreed, she respected me, and we remained great friends.

There is a story told of a dishonest character who approached a trusted employee to help him steal a considerable amount of money from the company. The employee constantly refused until finally, after being offered one million dollars, he gave in to the idea.
After the two had successfully committed the crime, the criminal offered the employee one hundred dollars for his help. The employee was furious. In a voice filled with anger the employee said, “What do you think I am, a criminal?” The man who had planned the crime said in a voice filled with contempt, “We already know what you are; now we are just arguing over how much you get paid.”

As a Relief Society president in São Paulo, Brazil, Elizabeth Contieri Kemeny felt impressed to assign herself to visit a shy, pregnant sister who attended church alone as her husband was often away on business. The ward Relief Society had just participated in a stake project to make baby layettes consisting of blankets, clothing, and other supplies for infants. The layettes were supposed to be delivered to the stake on a particular Sunday morning. On that day Sister Kemeny awoke at 6:00 A.M. with a strong impression she should deliver the layettes to the home of this sister, rather than to the stake.
Taking along her counselor and the bishop, Sister Kemeny arrived at this sister’s apartment only to learn that she had already gone to the hospital in labor. Pressing on to the hospital, they found her holding her new baby in her arms, with tears streaming down her own cheeks. She had been praying that Heavenly Father would send somebody to help her. Her husband was out of town, and she had nothing—not a blanket to wrap the baby in nor money for a bus ride home.
That afternoon at the stake meeting this ward had no layettes to contribute. They had been given to bless a sister both temporally and spiritually—all because a visiting teacher had prayed and listened to the promptings of the Spirit.

When my parents got married, they bought the refrigerator secondhand. My mother took it upon herself to paint it a strange yellow color I have never seen on any other refrigerator. (She also ended up painting the floor, some of the other furniture, and a new dress.) But we actually saw the strange yellow color only when the refrigerator broke down, had to have a new part, and Mama took everything off of it.

Its color was hidden because my mother covered it with all sorts of things: a good cartoon from the newspaper, a well-known saying, my dad’s picture, scriptures to be memorized, the ticket from the cleaners, an ad for some product, a letter to be answered, a recipe, the shopping list, the ward telephone directory, and even our report cards. As we got older, she put up lists of weekly assignments, schedules, and messages for the family. We didn’t have a chalkboard or a bulletin board, so our parents also posted gospel pictures on the refrigerator.

In February, my mom would put up a big heart with all our names written on it; in March, her wedding picture and a list of some things she would like for her birthday. June she dedicated to Dad, because it was the month of his birthday—she did the same in the month each of us was born. In September, a Mexican flag was displayed. In November, the month in which my parents remembered their ancestors, Mom put up pictures of loved ones, providing an opening to talk about them. In December, she displayed a small nativity scene she had fashioned out of cloth.

Each time one of us went on a mission, Mom stuck a missionary photo on the fridge and didn’t take it down until our return. When Mom’s only brother died, she displayed on the refrigerator a picture of the two of them together and never took it down. She didn’t ever mention it, but to see her so profoundly contemplating that picture, we knew how much her brother meant to her.

Together, the refrigerator and my mother united the family.

Today in my own home there is a refrigerator that, although new and not a strange yellow color, is learning its duty of uniting and teaching the family. The old photo of my parents’ wedding, another of my aunt, and the formless artwork made by my little children hang there. And when I see these objects, I think of my mother and thank her for teaching me to understand how a refrigerator can nourish in more ways than just keeping food cold.

For example, I know of a woman, a good woman, who found herself in a very challenging situation. She was at a luncheon with a number of members of the Church; some were active and some inactive; and also a few nonmembers were present. The subject turned to abortion and birth control, and one of the nonmembers voiced for about five minutes some very strong feelings concerning these issues. She indicated, erroneously, that she felt that there is nothing wrong with an abortion, and that there should never be any kind of restriction placed on a man or a woman concerning birth control itself. This good sister in the Church was faced with a difficult challenge of whether to talk about the weather or some other noncontroversial subject, or whether to really speak out and state the truth. This choice woman chose to do the latter. After explaining what the Lord had said concerning both of those issues, she bore her testimony as to her personal feelings. As you might expect, the luncheon concluded rather abruptly. However, afterwards one of the inactive women came over to this good sister and explained that she had never before understood the Lord’s view on those issues and had felt the truth being spoken on that day.

Jeff and his wife, Melissa, were attending general conference for his first time. Jeff played professional baseball (he was a catcher) and is now a physician anesthesiologist. He told me, “Much to my surprise, I am moving toward baptism because it feels like the most authentic and honest way to live.”
Earlier, Melissa had apologized to Jeff’s assigned ministering brother, “Jeff does not want ‘white shirts’ in our house.” The ministering brother said, “I’ll find a way.” Now he and Jeff are good friends. At Jeff’s baptism, I met a congregation of Latter-day Saints whom Jeff, Melissa, and their daughter, Charlotte, love.

President Thomas S. Monson once told about a time when he learned the importance of obedience. When he was eight years old, his family visited their cabin in the mountains. He and his friend wanted to clear a grassy spot for a campfire. They tried to clear the grass by hand, tugging and yanking as hard as they could, but all they got were handfuls of weeds. President Monson explained, “And then what I thought was the perfect solution came into my eight-year-old mind. I said to Danny, ‘All we need is to set these weeds on fire. We’ll just burn a circle in the weeds!’”
Even though he knew he wasn’t allowed to use matches, he ran back to the cabin for some, and he and Danny set a small fire in that grassy spot. They expected it to go out by itself, but it instead grew into a large and dangerous fire. He and Danny ran for help, and soon adults were rushing over to put out the fire before it reached the trees.
President Monson continued, “Danny and I learned several difficult but important lessons that day—not the least of which was the importance of obedience.” (See “Obedience Brings Blessings,” Liahona, May 2013, 89–90.)

When I was 16 I had the opportunity to go to Ecuador for the summer as an exchange student. I looked forward to this opportunity to live in an exotic location, but some of my excitement was reserved for meeting new people who wouldn’t know I was a Mormon. I decided that it wasn’t necessary for the people of Ecuador to know that I was LDS. I could still live the standards—but quietly and unobtrusively.
In Ecuador I attended an orientation with other exchange students from all over the United States. I quickly made friends, some that I would see almost every day that summer because we were staying with host families in the same city. Others I saw throughout the summer at parties and field trips. It felt wonderfully liberating to meet people who didn’t know my family’s entire history. They didn’t know I was a farm girl or that I was Miss Squeaky-clean. For the first time in my life I felt popular and accepted.
After orientation I met my host family. The very first thing we did, before I even unpacked, was to walk to a liquor store. My host sisters informed me that they were giving a big party that night in honor of my arrival, and they wanted me to pick out the booze. They were surprised to learn that I didn’t drink and pressured me about it. I finally had to admit that I was Mormon.
My stay in Ecuador marked the beginning of the most intense test of living Church standards I had ever faced. I was frequently pressured to drink alcohol. I met several handsome, fun young men who were anxious to get to know me a little too well. The other exchange students quickly learned that I was a Mormon, and they had quite a bit to say about it, much of it negative. One girl, who was known for her partying, teased me frequently about my moral standards. She suggested that I thought I was better than others because of these standards.
Though I never seriously considered abandoning my standards, I did begin to question why I was making these choices. I felt like it wasn’t good enough anymore to say, “Because of my religion, I don’t do such-and-such” or “That’s how I was raised.” I knew I needed a testimony of my standards if I was going to continue to uphold them. I wanted a stronger testimony of the restored Church.
I started reading the Book of Mormon on my own for the first time, and I finished it in 13 days. The Spirit testified to me that the powerful testimonies of those ancient prophets were true. I was filled with joy and gratitude that I had the privilege of being a member of Christ’s Church. This precipitated a complete change in my attitude toward Church standards. My newfound testimony of the Book of Mormon gave power and substance to my beliefs. I felt proud of my standards, and it became easier to live them.
Nothing had really changed as far as how I lived, but my feelings were different. Nothing about me had outwardly changed, and yet I was a new person. I even noticed that my new friends responded to this change in me, perhaps without realizing it. They seemed to have greater respect for me.
One day I was alone with the girl who had been making fun of me in front of the other exchange students. She confided that she wished she had been raised to have the same standards I had. She said she wished she had never had a drink and had never been unchaste. She was not the only one to tell me that.
When I was a senior in high school, a good friend who had gone on to college was visiting at Christmas break. She told me that she wished she had been taught my standards as a child because it would have been much easier to keep from getting into trouble. She told me to hold on to my standards no matter what because they would keep me safe.
A couple of years later when I was in college a girl I had known in Ecuador came to visit. She told me she wished she had been raised a Mormon because then she might have avoided the burdensome sins she’d committed. I felt very sad for my classmates, and on both occasions I cried with them over the pain they’d suffered. They’d had to learn the hard way that “while you are free to choose for yourself, you are not free to choose the consequences of your actions” (For the Strength of Youth [2001], 4.)
At first it surprised me a little to think that other teens were envious of my standards. Hadn’t so many of them made fun of me in high school? Didn’t teens want fewer restrictions instead of more? However, it soon began to make sense. My standards did keep me safe, and everyone wants to feel safe. Living the standards as outlined in For the Strength of Youth had spared me a great deal of pain. Also, more importantly, because I was exercising faith by living those standards and reading the Book of Mormon, I was worthy of the companionship of the Holy Ghost. It was through the Holy Ghost that I was able to obtain one of my most valued possessions: my testimony of the Book of Mormon and the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.

When my sixth-grade class talks about movies, they usually talk about PG-13 or R-rated movies. They ask me, “Have you seen them?” I answer, “No, I can’t watch PG-13 movies. I’m not allowed to watch R-rated movies either.” They laugh at me and say, “You can only watch baby shows.” It hurts me, but I get over it because I know I’m doing what Heavenly Father wants me to do. So even if people tease me, I will still keep my spirit high because I love the Lord. I will follow His teachings and always keep Him in my heart.

When I decided to serve a mission, my friends encouraged me to finish college instead. But I decided to go on a mission anyway, and they wondered why. One of my friends said a mission was a waste of time, and I was a little offended by that. But I told him why my mission was important to me. Now I’m on a mission, and I still write my friends and share the blessings I’m receiving as a result of being a missionary.
Elder Janray MillarezPhilippines Quezon City Mission

It was also a time of spiritual tempering. When Lucy had been given up to die from consumption, she covenanted to serve God all her days and to seek “the religion that would enable [her] to serve him right,” even if “obtained from heaven by prayer and faith.” She was healed and faithfully sought that religion for the next two decades, not yet understanding that her own son would introduce her to it. “For days and months and years,” without ceasing, she “continued asking God … to reveal … the hidden treasures of his will.” Joseph Sr.’s mistrust of organized religion did not let him share her quest among the churches she had access to, but it did not become a source of contention between them. Rather, she prayed sincerely for consolation and was comforted by a dream that assured her Joseph Sr. would accept the truth when it was presented to him.

The Smith family and others in their area were given opportunities to heft the ancient record and feel its individual plates at the Smith family home in Manchester Township, New York. Joseph’s younger brother William, age 16 in 1827, had a vivid memory of witnessing the plates, which he later shared in a sermon: “When the plates were brought in they were wrapped up in a tow frock. My father then put them into a pillow case. Father said, ‘What, Joseph, can we not see them?’ [Joseph responded,] ‘No. … I was forbidden to show them until they are translated, but you can feel them.’ We handled them and could tell what they were. … Could tell whether they were round or square. Could raise the leaves this way (raising a few leaves of the Bible before him). One could easily tell that they were not a stone, hewn out to deceive, or even a block of wood.”1

On another occasion, William provided further information: “I could tell they were plates of some kind and that they were fastened together by rings running through the back.”2 He also wrote that in addition to feeling the individual plates and rings, he had hefted the entire artifact: “I was permitted to lift them. … They weighed about 60 pounds according to the best of my judgment.”3 Joseph’s younger sister Katherine, age 14, also got to hold the plates the day Joseph brought them home. She “rippled her fingers up the edge of the plates and felt that they were separate metal plates and heard the tinkle of sound that they made.”4

One of my most joyous memories began during the summer of 1981. We had walked the city streets all morning talking to businessmen about the Church. By noon we were hot and tired and ready to take a break. We decided to walk through a nearby park, and as we did so, we could see off to the side a group of young people. We decided to see if they would listen to our message.
As we approached, they looked at us with some suspicion. We told them we were missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They laughed a little and made a few mocking comments. It seemed obvious that they didn’t want to listen to us. But there was one young man in the group who looked at us with a sincere interest. So we focused our attention on him. He had a guitar. We asked, “Would you play something for us?” He smiled, lifted his guitar, and began to play.
When he finished, we told him more about ourselves and our message. He told us his name was Jose Manuel. We talked for a few more minutes and then ended the conversation by asking if we could talk to him another day about our church. He replied he would be glad to listen to us and that we could find him in the park most every day taking his dog for a walk or playing his guitar.
As we left, we couldn’t imagine this young man ever being baptized. A few days later we were in that same area. To our pleasant surprise, there he was. We asked if he would listen to us. He consented, and we pulled two park benches together, and my companion and I sat on one and he sat on the other. We looked into Jose Manuel’s eyes and told him about Jesus Christ. Near the end of our message we told him about the Book of Mormon and that Jesus Christ had visited America after his resurrection. We challenged him to read about this great event. He said he would. We left the book, yet we had our doubts if Jose Manuel would ever even open it.
A few more days went by, and we decided to see how he had done on his reading assignment. To our surprise, he told us that he had read the part in the Book of Mormon that we had assigned him. He explained that he had told his friend about what he’d read. His friend also wanted to read the book, so Jose Manuel had given it to him. He asked us if he could possibly get another copy. We told him that we could probably work something out.
After that we continued to teach him the gospel. We saw him change his appearance and his heart. He wanted to be baptized.
Nearly three years have passed since we first met Jose Manuel in that park in Madrid, Spain. He is now a member of the Church. A few months ago he, like you and me, had a decision to make. He had to decide whether or not to serve a mission. Jose Manuel had every reason in the world not to go. He was just a recent convert. His knowledge of the gospel wasn’t that extensive. He had lost his father a few years before, and his mother didn’t want him to go. Other family members didn’t want him to go either. He didn’t have the finances to be able to serve for 18 months. He also had to complete his military service before he would be able to even think about serving a mission. Everything was against his going on a mission.
Every one of us, as we think about a mission, can find a number of reasons why we shouldn’t go. We must each look beyond those reasons. The key is to look for reasons to go. And Jose Manuel had some reasons to go. He knew that Jesus Christ was the son of God and the Savior of the world. He knew that Joseph Smith had seen a vision. He knew that the Church was true. He knew that it had changed his life, and he wanted to go out and share that knowledge with others.
Jose Manuel had a desire to serve. He was called to the work. With the help of the Lord, he was able to work things out. That always seems to happen. He overcame the obstacles, and he’s now serving in the Spain Barcelona Mission.
We’re all faced with different obstacles that sometimes make serving missions seem difficult. In my dad’s case, his father was ill. Jose Manuel’s family didn’t want him to go. I wondered about my basketball future. Many of the obstacles we face are those within our own minds. For just a minute I want to talk directly to you—just you. You who might say, “I have this girl friend”; or, “I’ve got a good job and a car”; or, “I’ve never been good at schoolwork, and I know I could never memorize scriptures and all those discussions”; or, “I can’t talk to people who I don’t even know”; or, “I couldn’t be obedient to all the rules missionaries follow”; or, “I don’t really know the Church is true, so how could I tell others about it?”
To those who have such thoughts and feelings: if you don’t now have a testimony, you can gain one on a mission. Your girl friend will be all right. You can learn the scriptures and discussions well enough to be effective. You’ll have the courage you need to talk to strangers. You can be obedient. You can do it.
Some of you may be fearful about your ability because to this point in your life you have struggled. Perhaps you’ve not been academically gifted or socially prominent. I agree that being socially graceful, well educated, experienced in leadership, and able to speak well are useful talents for doing missionary work. But there is something beyond these which can give a missionary his real power.
I was told recently of two missionary companions—one had many outward talents, the other didn’t. They had received a letter from a man and his family to whom they had taught several discussions. The letter told the elders to come by and pick up the Book of Mormon because the family had decided they were not interested in continuing the discussions.
The more outwardly talented elder felt confident that by using all his social skills and all his learning he would be able to change the man’s mind. During the meeting he used every persuasive skill he could think of. The other elder listened. Finally the man agreed to continue the discussions.
Later, at the family’s baptism, the talented elder remembered the night with some degree of pride. After the baptism the man told him, “The night I changed my mind and continued to have you teach me was the most important night of my life. As you talked to me, my mind was so determined to not listen that there was nothing you could have said that would have caused me to continue. But then I looked at your companion. His eyes were focused on me. I saw in his face more love than I’d ever known before. My heart felt a spirit that made it so I could not resist his silent message. I decided then that if this church could cause someone to love like that, then I wanted to be part of it.”
Outward social and educational talents help, but more needed than these are the inward talents of love and faith and testimony. In these talents we can all be equal.
If your health will allow, make yourself worthy to serve. Push aside the obstacles and go.

While I was in high school in Oakley, Idaho, the school board was finally able to raise enough money to buy us football uniforms. Our coach was the chemistry teacher. He had seen a game one time, and so he taught us how to tackle and run a few simple plays. The rest of us had never seen an actual team play.
Our first game was against Twin Falls, Idaho, the previous year’s state high school champs. Well, as you can imagine, the game was interesting. We tried a couple of plays and didn’t go anywhere, so we kicked the ball to get rid of it. Each time we got the ball, we kicked, and each time they got the ball, they scored.
Near the end of the game, when we were battered and beaten, Twin Falls started to get a little reckless. Clifford Lee, who was playing halfback with me, had one of their wild passes land right in his arms. He wondered what to do with it. He saw them coming after him, so he started to run for his life. He scored a touchdown.
We didn’t try an extra point because we didn’t have anyone who could kick one. The final score was 106 to 6. Our team lost so badly because we had not mastered the basics of football.
In life when there is something to be done, we have to learn the basics. They are taught in the scriptures. None of them has changed. We have to learn to obey the simple, basic rules of the gospel that are necessary for us to advance.

My family and I were spending a day at the Japan Alps National Park, surrounded by the mountains of the North Alps. My children were running around excitedly. I was pregnant with our fourth child and was feeling rather tired, so I lay down under the trees. Looking up at the blue, cloudless sky, I began thinking about our financial problems. My heart became overwhelmed, and I burst into tears. “Lord, we are full-tithe payers. We have sacrificed so much. When will the windows of heaven open unto us and our burdens be lightened?”
I prayed with all my heart. Then I turned to watch my husband and children playing and laughing together. The scene looked so peaceful and beautiful to me. Suddenly, the Spirit testified to me that my blessings were abundant and that my family was the greatest blessing Heavenly Father could give me.

The youth were happy to meet other Church members who shared the challenge of being only one among hundreds of people of other faiths in their schools and communities. They also found other things they had in common.
Ioana Ene, 14, of the Victoria Branch, and Amalia Epure, 15, of the Arad Branch, had never met before the conference but became friends almost instantly. Amalia investigated the Church for two years. She wanted very much to be baptized, but initially her parents would not give her permission. Now that she is a member, there are still challenges having a nonmember family. Ioana’s cheerful spirit and kindness helped Amalia to see another side to things. Ioana’s siblings are all members of the Church. The two girls spent a lot of their free time at the conference roaming the woods and talking about their families. They came to the conclusion that all families face challenges, whether they are Latter-day Saints or not.

My thoughts turned also to my righteous parents, who raised me in the principles of the gospel. I was reminded in particular of a moment when my loving mother knelt with me to pray by my bedside when I was around 10 years of age. She must have felt that if my prayers were going to reach my Father in Heaven, they would need to improve. So she said, “I will pray first, and after my prayer, you pray.” She continued this pattern for many nights, until she was confident I had learned by principle and by practice how to speak to Heavenly Father. I will be forever grateful to her for teaching me to pray, for I learned that my Heavenly Father hears my prayers and answers them.