Gospel Story Finder

On her way home from practice, Jillian saw her friend Mei. They were in the same Primary class. But Mei hadn’t come to Primary for a while.

Jillian smiled at Mei. “Hi, Mei! I’ve missed you at Primary. Are you OK?”

Mei stared down at her shoes. “My mom doesn’t want to go to church.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know.” Mei lifted her head. “Well, I have to go.”

Jillian waved and watched Mei walk away. How can I help Mei? she wondered.

When Jillian got home, she played some Primary songs on her ukulele. Then she invited her brothers to sing along. They sang until Mom called them for dinner.

“I’m going to visit Sister Aurea tomorrow,” Mom said.

“Sister Aurea is Mei’s mom, right?” Jillian asked. “Can I go with you? Mei hasn’t been coming to Primary. And when I saw her today, she seemed kind of sad.”

“Sure, you can come,” Mom said.

“I’ll bring my ukulele! I can play Primary songs. I bet she misses singing them,” said Jillian.

When they got to Mei’s house the next day, Jillian gave Mei a big hug. While their moms talked, the girls went outside. Jillian played her ukulele, and Mei picked the songs. They had fun laughing and singing together until it was time for Jillian to go.

“It was great to see you,” Jillian said. “We’ve missed you in Primary.”

“Yeah, I wish I could come. Maybe I’ll ask my mom again.”

The next Sunday, Mei was at church. Jillian sat beside her. “I’m so happy you could come,” she said.

Mei grinned. “Me too.”

That night as she lay in bed, Jillian thought about Mei and her football team. She was happy to be part of a team, just like she was happy to be part of Primary. They all helped each other. Jillian was glad she could help her friends, whether it was at church or on the field.

Four years ago Jimmie discovered a new heritage. Through entertaining, he met a member of the Church. They became friends, and she invited him to go to church with her. He enjoyed the meetings and soon he began talking with the missionaries.
“I found out all about the Church. I was more active than some members,” he says. Finally after two years Jimmie decided he was going to get baptized.
“I had the object one week to pray about it. I did pray, and sincerely. I think that was the big difference. I prayed sincerely because I did want to know if the Church was true. An answer came. I mean it was really strong—very, very strong.
“Before, I was expecting an answer straight away when I was praying. This time I waited. I didn’t have to wait very long. Once I had the feeling, I knew there was no way I could deny it. Just no way at all.
“My parents weren’t too keen on my decision at first. I had been brought up in the Church of Scotland. My mother was slightly hurt, but my father was just concerned I was doing the right thing. I asked them to come to my baptism, and they were there on the front row seats.
“My brother disowned me. He just didn’t want to know me at all. But now he’s great about it. If he hears anyone saying anything bad about the Church or my being a Mormon, he’ll jump to my defense. It’s heartwarming. It’s good to see him stand by me as my parents do.”
Jimmie shares with his family the things that happen at church each weekend. “If I have a calling they seem quite pleased. They know the Church is quite a big part of my life.”
He was attracted to the Church because he had many of the same values it teaches. “I’m a firm believer in doing unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
When he started studying with the missionaries, he was already living the Word of Wisdom. “As a teenager I drank, but only because all my friends were drinking. I realized that to be one of the boys you didn’t have to drink. They respected me eventually because of it.”
Jimmie is proud of his new-found heritage as a Latter-day Saint and strives to share it with others by his example. He blends his new beliefs with the Highland traditions of his homeland to show others what it means to be a Scottish Latter-day Saint.

The husband of a Relief Society sister was killed in a disastrous automobile accident, leaving his wife and three young children without means of support or much security. Upon taking stock of her circumstances, personal resources, and talents, the courageous wife worked out a plan whereby she could complete her education and provide financial sustenance for the family during the hours the children were in school. Through the application of thrift, discipline, and reliance on the Lord, the needs of the family were met. Kind, loving care was given to the sister’s aged parents as well.

I thought that after I was baptized everything would be perfect and I would like Church meetings even more. However, it did not happen that way. Sometimes I didn’t want to go to church, and I started to miss meetings. One Sunday my mom, who is not a member, asked me why I wasn’t going, and I told her I found the meetings boring. The next week, she asked me to go to church. Even after I got there, I thought about returning home, but then I thought of sacrament meeting, partaking of the sacrament, and all the other good things I would miss out on if I left. I decided to stay.
I am glad my mom talked to me about going to church and encouraged me to attend.

For 35 years I hoped and waited for my husband to become a member of the Church. Those long years were full of heartfelt prayers, but three prayers in particular were memorable turning points in my experience.
Al and I were married in 1959. A decade later we had three children and were living in a small town in Canada. Al ran a construction business, and I was a stay-at-home mom who sometimes helped with the business. On the weekends, Al and I partied with our friends, always with alcohol. My dad had been an alcoholic, so I hated that drinking was such a big part of our lives, but it had become our way of socializing.
That year, 1969, I realized my life was going nowhere and that our children deserved better than what we were offering them. One night after another drinking party, I got down on my knees and prayed, “Dear God, if You are there, please help me change my life.” I promised Him I would never drink alcohol again, a commitment I’ve honored ever since.
That was the first memorable prayer, and it was answered quickly. My sister-in-law’s daughter, my niece, had been invited to attend Primary with a Latter-day Saint friend. As my sister-in-law learned more about the Church, she felt inspired to send me a subscription to the Church magazines, which arrived within a month after I had said that first prayer. I didn’t know what a Mormon was, but I loved the messages the magazines contained and read them cover to cover. I decided to investigate the Church and therein found my answer. I did change my life, and I was baptized on June 19, 1970.
Al did not share my desires. He liked our former lifestyle and continued to live it. He continued to be a good husband, father, and provider, but for the next 35 years, as far as the gospel was concerned, I was on my own.
I was raising our children in the Church, but within a few years, our children decided they would rather spend Sundays boating with their dad than attending church with me. I was devastated. One day in 1975 I talked to my stake president and told him that I had decided I needed to leave the Church because it was breaking up our family. He patiently listened and said, “Do what you must, but be sure that your Father in Heaven approves.” So I went home and fasted and prayed. That was the second memorable prayer. The answer that came was the impression that I was the link in the gospel chain for my family; if I broke that link, everyone would be lost. I knew the answer came from God, so I committed to never leave the Church. And I never did.
Staying faithful didn’t come easily, but several things helped me maintain my faith and patiently hope for the day when Al would reconsider the gospel:
I always loved Al and did my best to look after him and be a supportive, faithful wife.
I prayed constantly. Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ became my gospel companions. When being with Al was difficult because he wasn’t living gospel standards, I talked with Heavenly Father and came to know my Savior.
I regularly read my scriptures and every other Church publication I could get my hands on, including the Ensign. Two verses of scripture in particular, 3 Nephi 13:33 and Doctrine and Covenants 75:11, became especially meaningful and poignant to me. They gave me strength and patience to hold on while waiting for a change of heart in my husband and children.
I faithfully went to church by myself until each of our children came back. All are active today. When they grew up and left home, I continued to attend church by myself.
We held family home evening without Al knowing that was what we were doing. I would bring up a subject at the dinner table, and we would talk about it as a family.
I always tried to be obedient and do the right thing.
I accessed additional power by requesting priesthood blessings.
I sought counsel from priesthood leaders.
I treated my Church friends as family.
I went to the temple and received my endowment. It took me many years to make that decision; I was afraid it would make my relationship with Al more difficult. In the end, I found it was the best decision for me. Al supported it, it made me happy, and after receiving it, I no longer resented Al as the reason I wasn’t going to the temple. When I participated in temple worship, I often put Al’s name on the prayer roll.
In essence, I continued to live as a faithful member of the Church. I looked for small ways to share the gospel with him, even though he usually didn’t want to hear it. But I found that the Holy Ghost would inspire me with the right things to say and the right way and time to share them. I later learned that because of my faithfulness and commitment to him, Al was touched by the Spirit from time to time.
He even agreed to listen to the missionary lessons on several occasions. But each time, my heart broke because he always returned to his old way of life. Even in these discouraging moments, however, Heavenly Father watched over me and made up for what I didn’t have with other blessings. All along I knew that there was something inside Al worth waiting for.
Slowly Al began to make changes. He stopped swearing. He stopped drinking. He treated me better than he ever had before. He began coming to church.
And I kept praying.
The incredible answer to my third memorable prayer came in April 2005. I was wondering if Al would ever accept the gospel of Jesus Christ—I was feeling a little bit desperate. I pleaded with Heavenly Father for His help. It must have finally been the right time because on July 9, Al was baptized.
Although getting to this point was not easy, I am grateful to have witnessed the amazing power of God in changing an unbelieving heart to a believing one. I know that He heard and answered the many prayers I prayed over the course of 35 years. Because of His answers, I now live with a changed man, one who loves our Heavenly Father as much as I do. And we love each other more deeply than we ever did before.
I know that there are others in the Church who are waiting, hoping, and praying for a loved one to come into the Church. I wish to encourage these brothers and sisters to accept the Savior’s invitation to “come unto me” (Alma 5:34) for themselves and not just for their loved ones. I know from experience that doing so will give strength as nothing else can. Staying close to Heavenly Father, obeying His commandments, and enjoying current blessings yield happiness and allow Him to work through us.
I testify that God does hear our prayers. Waiting on the Lord and accepting His timetable with faith is rarely easy, but I know that His timing is always right.

We were so happy, every Sunday attending sacrament meeting and seeing the love the members of the Church showed us. My mom and I waited for my father who was working in Dubai to come and be baptized, and my brother was studying in Vijayawada where there is no Church. Fortunately, a home group was started in Vijayawada and missionaries from Rajahmundry went there and taught him. I baptized him. The day came that my father arrived from his work the missionaries met him, taught him, and invited him to be baptized, but he had an issue with the Word of Wisdom. Finally, he overcame it with the help of the missionaries and he also joined the Church. My brother baptized him. Now all four members in our family have joined the Church and have seen many miracles in our lives.

“I want you to knock all the cement off these steel posts,” the boss said as he handed me the sledgehammer and stood back to watch me begin. Anxious to impress him with my eagerness for the task, I planted my feet in a wide stance, raised the sledgehammer high above my head, and brought it down hard on the barrel-sized keg of cement caked on the first leg of the extracted guardrail.
Six … seven … eight solid follow-up strokes to the same spot, but all I could feel was the stunning reverberation up the handle of the sledgehammer. Not a single chip of the hard cement seemed to yield under the blows. After resting the hammerhead on the ground for a moment and rubbing my right shoulder, again I raised the hammer high above my head and repeated the effort, but with no better result.
I felt a little embarrassed as the boss watched a minute longer. Then, starting to walk toward the tool shop, he said, “I’ll get you something that may help.”
As I had arrived for work that morning wearing ankle-high work shoes, with cowhide gloves dangling from the back pocket of my denims, I had wondered, as I had on the two previous mornings, if this would be my last day on the job. I hoped not. With only three months before I would enter the mission home, I needed every penny I could earn to help cover my mission expenses, for the first few months at least.
Dad said no sacrifice by the family would be too great for the privilege of supporting me in the mission field, and he meant it. He knew what that kind of sacrifice was. I remember how the family had spread margarine on the bread and then scraped most of it off again while my older brother Ron was in the mission field. I also sensed dad’s special gratitude when occasionally I was able to spare a few dollars of the earnings from my part-time job to add to what was sent to Ron.
Yes, I knew it would mean sacrifice, gladly offered. I also knew I had to do all I could.
I took a firmer grasp on the handle, holding it a little lower this time to get a better weight advantage from the heavy steel head. Several more strokes, and now I could feel myself becoming angry. How could I strike any harder? Why didn’t the cement break?
“I hope he doesn’t get back before I’ve shown some kind of progress,” I said to myself, glancing toward the tool shop.
When I had told the boss on Monday morning that I had quit school to work for a few months so I could go on a mission, I had hoped he would be kind of proud of me. Instead he had said, “Why do you want to waste your time like that?” Ever since then he had seemed bent on going out of his way to make snide comments about the Church and other crude remarks that, I suspected, were designed to shock me. But he was the boss and the one who would let me stay or let me go.
I had been much more comfortable last week when I first got this job and was helping Bert Godfrey lay a brick wall to replace an old wooden one that had burned down. How could I help but like that leather-faced but kindhearted man who had served three missions, two of them building missions.
The company had hired me for ten days, mostly to help build that wall. But Bert and I had worked so well together that we had finished it in a week. He didn’t seem to mind that I was a bit clumsy and lacked experience. He knew I was trying and he knew why. He just kept talking to me about serving the Lord.
Bert hadn’t told me that the real boss was on vacation, and it had come as a surprise when I showed up for work the next Monday morning. So far, though, my strategy seemed to be working. Although I was earning more than I had ever earned before, I figured that if I worked so hard that I was worth still more than they were paying me, maybe the boss would feel he just couldn’t afford to let me go.
I looked again at the long I-beam rail with 13 steel legs extending from it like a giant comb with most of its teeth missing. It had long ago served as a bumper guard, preventing cars in the parking lot from hitting the adjacent building. It had been installed by digging 13 large holes in the ground in a straight line, spaced at eight-foot intervals. A steel post was cemented into each hole, and the connecting bumper rail welded to each post. Recently the entire rail had been removed by having two large Hysters extract the whole thing in one piece, and it was lying in the driveway with each post encased in a barrel-sized cement block.
As I heard boots scuff the loose gravel on the asphalt pavement leading from the tool shop, I let loose a wild flurry of blows. I was glad that a few beads of sweat had formed on my forehead. “Here, try this,” the boss said as he handed me a heavier sledgehammer. That wasn’t quite the kind of help I had in mind.
I smiled as I traded him the smaller hammer, but I could tell that he sensed it wasn’t a completely honest smile. He watched me for a few minutes more, and then without further comment, turned away to supervise the crew working on the remodeling project in the steel fabrication plant.
“The only difference between the hammers is that this one is heavier and harder to lift,” I grumbled silently as the steel head collided with the stonehard cement. Finally one small chunk broke off. After several more strokes my arms started to ache, but the cement still remained intact.
At this rate I knew it would take me three days to complete the job. I also knew that if I didn’t show substantial progress by noon, I’d be out of a job and back standing in the labor lines at the Employment Security Office taking any kind of work available. Three days of that had made me especially anxious to keep this job.
Besides, it was 1954, and thousands of striking workers with families to feed were looking for short-term, full-time employment. How was a 20-year-old youth going to compete with them for the few jobs available?
It took only a few more hard but unsuccessful strokes to persuade me that I had reached my limit and that it was time for me to treat the problem as one needing more strength and wisdom than I possessed.
Resting the heavy hammer on the ground and trying to compose my anger and frustration, I felt the need and desire to discuss the problem with the Lord. Without either kneeling or closing my eyes, I started praying aloud to the Lord and explaining the task I faced. In a conversational but sincere way I reminded him that I wasn’t asking for the money so I could buy a yellow convertible. He had called me on a mission, and I knew he wanted me to go. This job had already been an answer to my prayers, but I needed to keep it. I didn’t expect him to send a host of angels from heaven with sledgehammers, but I knew he could help me.
Never in my life has a prayer been answered more immediately or clearly. Suddenly my mind was filled with a thought so lucid and strong that my heart started pounding. It was a simple solution, as I later considered it. To brighter or more experienced minds it might have occurred earlier, but to me it came as a direct answer to my prayer.
The compelling instruction said to me, “Instead of striking the cement, strike the steel.”
Still not fathoming exactly why, I raised the hammer and brought it crashing down five or six times on the steel post right next to the cement. As a large section of the cement cracked into big chunks and fell off, I realized that the blows to the steel had started a series of strong vibrations that were transmitted all along the steel shaft.
I quickly forgot the weight of the hammer. With new energy I struck the steel again and again, then moved on to the next post, amazed at the magnification of my efforts as the steel vibrated and the cement cracked.
Less than two hours later I had removed the cement from all 13 posts and stacked the large chunks in a pile. With the sledgehammer on my shoulder and a prayer of gratitude in my heart, I went to find the boss.
“I’ll need some help moving the railing out of the driveway,” I said, trying to conceal the excitement I felt inside. Thinking I was giving up on the project, he motioned me to follow him to the parking lot.
As we rounded the corner of the building and he saw the railing and the pile of cement, he stopped quite suddenly. His eyes blinked and opened wide. His chin started to drop a bit. For a full minute he stood silently, looking first at the railing, then at the cement. After a moment more he turned, motioned me to follow him again, and said, “Come on, I’ll give you another job.”
Nothing more was said about the incident, but the following morning when I arrived for work, he simply said, “Lloyd, you’re welcome to stay on as long as you like.”
I worked there for nearly three months before entering the mission home. He then let me come back to work again for another ten days until I departed with my group for the mission field. Never after that memorable morning did he, in my presence, make a disparaging remark about the Church or my plans to serve a mission.
Many times since that day the Lord has helped me strike the steel instead of the cement in solving other problems. But as I departed for the mission field in late November 1954, I knew that I was called of the Lord. I knew that he was listening to my prayers. And I knew for myself that he would give no commandment save he would prepare a way for it to be accomplished.

Another season in Minnesota began a few months before Christmas, when the youth and leaders in the Bloomington Ward became aware of a group of people in need.

“They were facing severe financial problems,” says Megan Ogilvie. “Our Bishopric Youth Committee decided to see if there was something we could do to help. We contacted several different agencies, and they suggested what might be purchased or donated.”

Then the youth of the Bloomington Ward got busy.

“We had a bake sale, and we also got people to donate things—clothing, books, sports gear, toys, food. We filled five big boxes,” says Scott Ranning, 18. Some cash was also given, which was used to purchase additional clothing, books, and for some of the people, scriptures.

After everything was delivered, the ward held a fireside to talk about how wonderful it felt to give. From the people they had helped, the youth of the ward received a handmade cloth banner as a token of thanks and friendship, a banner that hangs in the bishop’s office to this day.

I always thought that I was one of the lucky exceptions to some gospel standards. So I did my own thing, deciding which standards were important and which weren’t. One of the standards I saw as optional was not listening to profane and vulgar music (see For the Strength of Youth [2011], 22). I didn’t think that the music I listened to made a difference in how I acted and how I felt about the gospel. I still had a strong testimony of Jesus Christ, and I did my best to serve others and attend my Church meetings. I told myself that it was unfortunate that those musicians didn’t live virtuous lives, but I was OK listening to their music—after all, it didn’t keep me from living a gospel-oriented life.
As I prepared to serve a mission, I didn’t think twice about how the music I listened to was stifling my spiritual progression.
However, within hours of opening my mission call, the scripture Alma 32:27 came into my head: “But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words.”
And then I thought of that one word: experiment. If I wanted to receive the blessings I was missing out on, I had to experiment. So for the next three weeks, I went without my inappropriate music. It was hard at first, and I had many relapses. But after a few days, the peaceful feelings I began having every day were enough to get me through. On top of that, as a college student, I began to do better in my classes. I could focus more, and I was more in tune with the Spirit in a time of my life where heavenly guidance was especially important.
I found that even my desires changed. I wanted to have every blessing that Heavenly Father is waiting to give me. My experience in changing my music habits helped me realize that there are no optional standards and that every commandment we are given is designed to deepen our relationship with our Heavenly Father and make us more like Him. Skipping out on ones we don’t like will only deny us His promised blessings.

Sighing, I let the pen slip idly from my fingers as my head collapsed onto the desk in front of me. “I can’t do this any more,” I groaned.
I looked up at the clock on the wall. It was 8:45 P.M. I had wanted to be in bed by 9:30. Looking back at the math exercises I had been working on, my eyes filled with tears. I was so tired. My head was pounding, and my whole body was aching, but sleep seemed unlikely tonight. The math would take me at least another hour to finish; then I had to learn my lines for tomorrow’s drama rehearsal. My English assignment was due in two days, and I hadn’t started it yet. On top of that, my piano lesson was the next day, and Mrs. Doolan was bound to be unimpressed with the limited practice I’d managed to fit in this week.
“Tammy?” The small voice roused me from my thoughts, and I turned, exasperated, towards the door.
“Ben,” I whined at my brother, “why aren’t you asleep yet?”
The six-year-old scurried happily across the room and onto my lap. “I’m not tired,” he answered simply.
Smiling, I put my arms around him and gave him a hug. It was impossible to stay angry with him for long.
“Read me a story, Tammy,” he pleaded.
“Ben,” I began, “I’d really like to, but I just can’t tonight.” I launched into a detailed account of the pressures I was under. Noting his disappointment, my excuses trailed off, and I began to feel guilty. My eyes fell on the scriptures, where they lay on the bedroom floor.
There’s another thing I have to do tonight, I thought, feeling discouraged.
Suddenly I had an idea. I’d shoot both birds with one stone! Putting Ben down on the floor, I reached for the Book of Mormon.
“You like scripture stories don’t you, Ben?” I asked. Nodding happily he settled down to listen. The seminary reading assignment was Third Nephi chapter 17, and I turned to the page quickly and began to read: “Behold, now it came to pass that when Jesus had spoken these words he looked round about again on the multitude, and …”
“Tammy, what’s a multitude?” Ben interrupted.
“It’s just a large group of people,” I answered hastily and then continued: “and he said unto them: Behold my time is at hand.”
“Tammy, what does that mean?” I groaned inwardly. This was going to take a lot longer than I had planned on.
I read on for about half an hour, in which time I had read about one page. Ben wanted to know and understand everything I was reading. Jesus directing the Nephites? Jesus healing the sick? Language that couldn’t be written? Everything fascinated him. But not me. I was simply anxious to get through the chapter, send him back to bed, and return to my mountain of homework.
“And when he had said these words,” I continued, “he wept, and the multitude bare record of it, and he took their little children, one by one, and blessed them, and prayed unto the Father for them.
“And when he had done this he wept again;
“And he spake unto the multitude, and said unto them: Behold your little ones.
“And as they looked to behold they cast their eyes towards heaven, and they saw the heavens open, and they saw angels descending out of heaven as it were in the midst of fire; and they came down and encircled those little ones about, and they were encircled about with fire; and the angels did minister unto them.”
Pausing for a breath, I suddenly realized that I had just read four verses without being interrupted once!
Puzzled I looked down at Ben and was surprised to see that there were tears streaming down his small face. My eyes met his as I searched for an explanation.
“Tammy,” he said softly, “I wish I could have been there.”
Suddenly I felt my eyes stinging with tears, and I was filled with shame. “So do I, Ben,” I whispered.
My homework, drama rehearsal, and piano practice paled in significance as I realized that it was my attitude towards spiritual matters that needed attention. I reached for the sweet little brother who had reminded me of what was really important and vowed to be better.

One brother who had once been a prisoner of war had to withdraw money from his savings account—money which had been set aside for another special purpose. Then he learned of a pension for Canadian prisoners of war and found that he qualified. In fact, he was awarded the pension retroactively, and the cumulative amount was slightly in excess of the amount he had withdrawn to pay his building assessment.

During her campaign to be elected as the student president, Sue introduced a theme, “Seek for the highest that is in you.” As high school students will do, some started making fun of the theme. But Sue persevered, using the theme for all the school activities throughout the year, and the ridicule died down. The school principal said, “There are always those who will take something positive and try to make fun of it. Sue was able to overcome that just by her pleasant attitude and by not taking herself too seriously or getting defensive when people would make fun of the theme. The theme became the accepted motto for the students that year.”

There are several influences in my life that have instilled in me a desire to teach our children to work. The first are experiences I enjoyed as a child growing up in the home of wise and wonderful parents. Our first family work project began when I was around nine years old. One night dad came home with a shoe-shining kit that had an adaptable shoe tree that fastened to the wall. He encouraged my brother and me to be industrious and earn some money by charging fifteen cents for every pair of shoes we shined. Of course, my parents’ shoes were always well shined, but our big opportunities came when my parents entertained. I would mingle among the guests and ask if any would like to have their shoes shined. Many a person was seen in our home sitting or visiting in his stocking feet.
A few years passed, and dad came home one night with another idea. “Why don’t you boys sell Christmas wreaths?” he said. And thus we were off on another venture. We would go from door to door taking orders, and then we purchased the wreaths from a wholesaler for our customers. For the next several years mom and dad spent many hours helping us in this project.
During my college years I began to realize that there were more values to work than simply the money one earns. Three individuals made statements that have left indelible impressions upon my mind. The first statement came while I was attending the University of Utah. The director of the Institute of Religion, Lowell L. Bennion, shared with me a philosophy of raising children. He grew a large vegetable garden, and when asked what he was growing, his reply was not the usual tomatoes, corn, or carrots, but simply, “boys.”
The second statement came from a student at BYU when he offered an explanation as to why he alone among his high school friends had remained active in the Church. He said it was because of a cow. He went on to explain that while his friends had nothing to do after school and began to get into trouble, he had to go home every day to milk the cow. Although he resented it at the time, he since has been very grateful to wise parents and the cow.
The third statement was made by a returned mission president who commented that many missionaries do not know how to work when they arrive in the mission field. They lack experience in organizing their time and in being self-starters.
A philosophy of work gradually emerged in my mind. When I got married, I wanted to achieve three goals: use work as a means of “growing children”; see that they did not have too much free time; and prepare our children to effectively serve the Lord.
Following my marriage to a wonderful companion, our home was blessed with the arrival of children. In the space of a few years we found ourselves the parents of ten children—all girls but eight. We knew as our children grew older they would need to assist with family finances. This became evident when our four older children expressed a desire to learn to ski. One Christmas we bought four pairs of used wooden skis and some poles, and we acquired some used boots. On Christmas morning our children were delighted to receive their skis, and they accepted the responsibility for most of their future expenses.
Since my wife and I didn’t believe in the dole system in any form of finance, we kept wondering how our young family could begin to become self-sufficient. It wasn’t long until we were offered an opportunity to collate and distribute advertising materials to 5,000 homes. We worked at the project after school, in the evenings, and on Saturdays. Everyone was involved in collating several pieces of advertising materials. Mom or dad assisted by driving the children to different locations and offering encouragement. The project was repeated several times. Our children were beginning to earn money, and we learned that we could have fun together while working.
After a couple of years, we graduated from advertising packets to telephone directories. During several summers, we loaded up our station wagon with books and children. The days were hot, the hours were long, some streets were hard to find, some addresses couldn’t be found, the books were heavy, some driveways were long and went uphill, some dogs were mean; but we had fun. Sometimes two children would go to a home, one to play with the dog and the other to take the books.
One summer one of the boys broke his foot while on the job. Within a few days he realized that he didn’t want to be left out of the summer work; besides he loved to ski. Soon he was in the back of the station wagon unwrapping the books and giving directions to the children as to how many books were to go to each house.
At the end of a day’s work, there were stories to tell, experiences to laugh at, accomplishments to brag about—and no one had any trouble sleeping. Yes, we were having fun and experiencing a sense of accomplishment.
Our next project began when our oldest son started mowing lawns the year before his mission. We bought a 1962 truck that ran most of the time, and some lawn-care equipment. That first year he did most of the work himself and occasionally took a younger brother with him. The next year dad decided to get involved, since none of the younger boys had drivers’ licenses. We advertised, gave bids, received referrals, and increased the number of our customers. Then came the day when dad mowed his first lawn. First the edger didn’t start, so he traveled across town to find out what to do. When he returned, one mower had broken down so he went back across town again to find out what to do. After several hours on that job, the second oldest boy looked at his dad and asked, “And is this what we are going to do all summer?”
We stuck with it and are now completing our fourth year. We have learned to keep our sense of humor through broken sprinklers, a flooded basement, unexpected rain, a burned-out truck engine, broken equipment, dad pulling up someone’s prized miniature tree, and the front wheel coming loose off the truck in busy traffic. And then there are those days when every piece of equipment is working, the truck is running, the sun is shining, we are on schedule, and someone forgets to fasten the tailgate of the truck. One by one our equipment slides out as we travel to the next customer.
One might ask why we do all of these things. The obvious answers are: (1) all of our teenagers have sizeable missionary funds; (2) all of our children over eleven know they will have a job; (3) no Sunday work is involved; (4) the children have learned valuable skills; (5) they are learning to budget their resources and to distinguish between wants and needs; and (6) as their father, I have had many wonderful teaching moments with them as we have worked side by side.
But these are not all. There are values that are often hard to describe but are real. A couple of Sundays ago the boys sat down at the direction of their mother and wrote what they felt the values were of working together as a family.
An eighteen-year-old boy writes, “Since I can remember, I have been taught the value of hard work and honoring all of your responsibilities and your family name. As I look back to my experience in family projects, I can see how they have shaped my character and personality by letting me make many important decisions. I have gained confidence by meeting new people and am better able to express myself. But the most important thing about family work projects is that your family comes closer together in love and respect.”
A thirteen-year-old who has been mowing lawns for four years writes, “Family projects have really helped me to understand how to work. The harder you work, the better you feel. I am grateful for a closer relationship with my brothers and parents.”
A sixteen-year-old said, “Working on family projects has taught us the importance of being honest and dependable. It has taught us to make a lot of sacrifices in order to keep our name in good standing.”
And finally, our fifteen-year-old said, “The family work projects have helped me manage my money. When I buy my clothes and other things, I take care of them because I know how much they cost and how much work it takes to buy them. When my parents bought my things, I honestly thought there was an endless supply of money, so I wouldn’t take care of them. Also, work gives me a feeling of satisfaction—and a great tan.”
Their mother writes, “I watch other youth with too much free time and am grateful that our boys know there are people relying on them. They sometimes have to sacrifice personal wants for the sake of their work.”
May I add my own feelings. Our family work has become a big factor in bringing a higher degree of love, peace, and unity into our home. Many neighbors have commented on how much our children really enjoy each other. I am amazed as I witness our children stretching in their tender years toward self-reliance. Yes, work is a spiritual and essential principle. Our own beloved prophet has taught that “life is not wholly for fun and frolic.”
I bear testimony that family work, when combined with family prayer and family scripture study, will do much to secure the blessings of heaven for families on earth. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I have been inspired by Moroni’s courage because of the many trials the world has seen this year, including the COVID-19 pandemic. Many of us around the world were forced into social isolation this year, some of us needing to separate ourselves from the people we love most. I too had to make that difficult decision.
I am a pediatric doctor, and I work on the front lines to give children urgent and emergency care in Maranhão, Brazil. During this pandemic, I made the difficult decision to avoid close physical contact with my beloved husband, two-year-old daughter, mother-in-law, and nephews (who all live in my home), along with all my other family and friends elsewhere. I isolated myself to avoid possibly transmitting the disease.
Social isolation was difficult because my family is so close. Every Sunday we get together for lunch. We also have regular family nights. I soon discovered that without them, I felt sad and lonely. However, I decided to spend a lot of time reading the Book of Mormon to invite the Spirit into my life. I learned that having the Holy Ghost as my constant companion helps me focus on gratitude and goodness, shows me how to serve others, and surrounds me with the Savior’s love during difficult times.
Sometimes I wonder how comforting it must have been for Moroni to read the words of his father, Mormon, after he was gone. I tried to apply his words to me: “Be faithful in Christ [my daughter]; ... may Christ lift thee up” (Moroni 9:25). I’ve learned that He always will! The Savior can give us power that is greater than all the problems we may face in this troubled world and help us hold on to hope.
As hard as this year has been, I am so grateful this experience has strengthened my testimony of Jesus Christ and taught me to place my total trust in Him as Moroni did. As I read the account of Jesus Christ in the Americas, I realized that before His arrival, the land of the Nephites was undergoing great and wonderful transformations (see 3 Nephi 11:1). Certainly, before the Savior returns, we will be able to go through our own transformation, preparing ourselves to meet Him again. I know that all the challenges we are experiencing all give us the opportunity to help us prepare to meet Him.
I know that Jesus Christ is my Savior. He is the light that I need to guide me when the way is uncertain. And I know that the Book of Mormon is a testament of Him. The truths found in that book can truly help us turn to Him and to have strength and courage and faith in times of crisis. I know it has for me.

I know a little girl who is the last child in a large family in which the other children are all boys. I guess the shock of being a girl in this big family of boys has made her keenly aware of the fact that she is different from the other children. Her mother has wisely taught her that the boys wear trousers and that she wears dresses. Now you cannot get her to wear anything else but a modest dress. I am certain she will have no problem adjusting to Church dress standards anytime in her life because there will be no need for change. This is something she has been taught from the very beginning of her life. How easy it will be for her to accept the proper dress standard as she moves from child to youth to adult.

by Vickie Toy
Early one hazy September morning a large group of teenagers showed up on Main Street in Shelley, Idaho, with brushes and paint cans, determined to paint the town red or whatever color the proprietors of the businesses selected.
In total, the group of youth from the Shelley Idaho Stake cleaned up and painted 11 stores. Even the local bar got a new coat of paint, as well as the police station. They also cleared away rubbish, pulled weeds, and planted hundreds of flowers.
With a population of 4,000, Shelley is largely an LDS community. The cleanup day was designed by caring Young Men and Young Women leaders to give the youth an opportunity to experience the joy of service.
“I thought it looked real neat when we cleaned up the town,” said Norina Cox, 12. “I was proud to say I helped.”
“I liked the feeling I got when we fixed up Shelley. It was worth the effort,” added Kristen Sargis.
The downtown street was deteriorating. Over the years, businesses had closed and storefronts stood vacant. Plans for the downtown cleanup started long before the activity took place. Church leaders met with the city council and the Chamber of Commerce to coordinate plans. Paint was donated, and equipment offered.
At the end of a hard day, the youth gathered to celebrate at a street dance held in a local parking lot.
“I’d been involved in Scout service projects before,” said Shane Thiemann, “but this was a giant one. It improved the way people feel about our town.”

The work moved forward. The paramount blessing needed was the privilege of our worthy members to receive their endowments and their sealings.
We explored every possibility. A trip once in a lifetime to the temple in Switzerland? Not approved by the government. Perhaps mother and father could come to Switzerland, leaving the children behind. Not right. How do you seal children to parents when they cannot kneel at an altar? It was a tragic situation. Then, through the fasting and the prayers of many members, and in a most natural manner, government leaders proposed: Rather than having your people go to Switzerland to visit a temple, why don’t you build a temple here in the German Democratic Republic? The proposal was accepted, a choice parcel of property obtained in Freiberg, and ground broken for a beautiful temple of God.
The day of dedication was an historic occasion. President Gordon B. Hinckley offered the dedicatory prayer. Heaven was close that day.
For its size, this temple is one of the busiest temples in the Church. It is the only temple where one makes an appointment to participate in an endowment session. It is the only temple I know of where stake presidents say, “What can we do? Our home teaching is somewhat down because everyone is in the temple!” When I heard that comment, I thought, “Not bad—not bad at all!”

We have seen the manifestation of the Savior’s power in a widow who lost her husband while they were on the Lord’s errand in Bolivia. We have seen it in a young woman in Argentina who fell under a train and lost her leg, just because someone wanted to steal her cell phone. And in her single father, who now must pick up the pieces and strengthen his daughter after such an unexplainable act of cruelty. We have seen it in the families that lost their homes and every possession during fires in Chile just two days before Christmas in 2022. We have seen it in those who suffer after a traumatic divorce and in those who are innocent victims of abuse.
This is the kind of faith we saw when we visited the families after the fires in Chile. Their houses had been burned to the ground; they had lost everything. Yet as we were walking in what used to be their homes and they were telling us about their experiences, we felt that we were standing on holy ground. One sister said to my wife, “When I saw that nearby houses were burning, I had the impression that our house was going to be burned, that we were going to lose everything. Instead of desperation, I experienced a sense of indescribable peace. Somehow, I felt everything was going to be OK.” Trusting God and keeping our covenants with Him bring power to our weakness and comfort to our grief.

I testify that I know victims of serious abuse who have successfully made the difficult journey to full healing through the power of the Atonement. After her own concerns were resolved by her faith in the healing power of the Atonement, one young woman who had been severely abused by her father requested another interview with me. She returned with an older couple. I could sense that she loved the two very deeply. Her face radiated happiness. She began, “Elder Scott, this is my father. I love him. He’s concerned about some things that happened in my early childhood. They are no longer a problem for me. Could you help him?” What a powerful confirmation of the Savior’s capacity to heal! She no longer suffered from the consequences of abuse, because she had adequate understanding of His Atonement, sufficient faith, and was obedient to His law. As you conscientiously study the Atonement and exercise your faith that Jesus Christ has the power to heal, you can receive the same blessed relief. During your journey of recovery, accept His invitation to let Him share your burden until you have sufficient time and strength to be healed.

On Sunday 26 July the Tunbridge Wells Ward of the Church hosted the civic service for the new mayor of the borough of Tunbridge Wells, Chris Woodward, a member of the ward. The service was conducted by Bishop George Fahey and presided over by Stake President Stephen Baldock, and his first counsellor, Leighton Bascom, also members of the ward.
Besides local members, there was a good mix of visitors. The service was attended by past mayor Mrs Barbara Cobbold; Andrew Backway JP; three borough councillors, Harry Allen, Sarah Hamilton, and Bill Hills; and Sue Hall representing the Tunbridge Wells Quaker Meeting. Also attending was architect Dr Philip Whitbourn OBE. It was a pleasure to meet and chat with them after the service.
Hosting a civic service was a rare occasion for the ward, as most prior mayors of the borough have been of the Anglican faith. The typical programme of past mayors’ services had to be adapted to align with the Church’s practices. The focus of the service became the Melchizedek Priesthood blessing on the mayor by Bishop Fahey with the assistance of Presidents Baldock and Bascom.
In his address, Bishop Fahey drew attention to Doctrine & Covenants (Section 58:27), in which the Lord said: “men should be anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of their own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness”. He added, “Civic service and duty are important to members of the Church. We are actively encouraged to participate in civic life, to serve, to vote, and to help effect social change for the better. We believe that democratic government is sanctioned by God and that the betterment of our societies should be achieved by the proper exercising of civic machinery.”
He drew attention to Joseph Smith’s response to being questioned about what the Church adherents believed: “As well as doctrinal beliefs relating to the reality of God, His Son Jesus Christ, and doctrines pertaining to spiritual matters, Joseph’s answer included: ‘We believe in being subject to kings, presidents, rulers, and magistrates, in obeying, honouring, and sustaining the law.
“‘We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men. … If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things.’” (Articles of Faith 12 and 13.)
Bishop Fahey continued, “How can we summarise principles of Christlike leadership and service? During His earthly ministry Jesus taught, ‘he that is greatest among you shall be your servant’ (Matthew 23:11) This King of kings, Prince of Peace, and Son of God led a ministry of exhausting work in the service of others. He had no fixed abode, taught, and ministered to others far past mealtimes, and on at least one occasion was so exhausted that He was able to sleep through a storm on the Sea of Galilee. On the evening before his Crucifixion, the same on which He shared the Last Supper, He showed the measure of His leadership by washing the feet of His disciples. Indeed, in this Church we believe that ‘no power or influence can or ought to be maintained … only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, by love unfeigned,
“‘By kindness and pure knowledge … without hypocrisy, and without guile’ (Doctrine & Covenants 121:41–42).
“Such are the leadership methods that the humble follower of Jesus Christ should strive to use — patterned after the methods of the most influential leader to have ever walked the earth.”
After about 35 years of corporate life, Chris had started his own small business in 2003. His family circumstances did not make it possible to serve a full-time mission with his wife. He added, “I decided the time was right to direct effort to serving my community more widely. During those early days of pondering what I should do, someone from the local political establishment came knocking on my door in 2005. The rest is minor history.”
Chris was inspired by Gordon B. Hinckley (1910-2008), who in a conference address in April 2000, when aged 90 (five years after becoming President of the Church), declared of David B. Haight (1906-2004), a member of the Council of Twelve Apostles, who was then 94, “I am an old man trying to catch up with Brother Haight! I’m given to meditation and prayer. I would enjoy sitting in a rocker, swallowing prescriptions, listening to soft music, and contemplating the things of the universe. But such activity offers no challenge and makes no contribution.
“I wish to be up and doing. I wish to face each day with resolution and purpose. I wish to use every waking hour to give encouragement, to bless those whose burdens are heavy, to build faith and strength of testimony [in the Saviour].”1
Chris hopes to echo President Hinckley’s wish to be up and doing while still in his somewhat-young 75+ age group. He adds, “Like all of us, I need purpose—achieving something that is worthwhile. I have found serving as borough councillor to provide some of this.” Chris said of the reading from Matthew 6:1–4 given by young Sister Eliza Brecheisen, that “it always reminds me that when we give our time and resources to help others, that God expects us to do it without broadcasting what we do. He knows what we do. As I serve publicly as mayor, I always try to keep that message uppermost in my mind.” Young Brother Aaron Yoosuf’s scripture reading from 2 Corinthians 9:6–7, reminded Chris to cheerfully do his very best while he has the health, strength and will to do so.
Brother Woodward has chosen as his mayoral theme, The Rising Generation, a phrase well known in the Church. He wants to make sure that the voice of the rising generation of the Tunbridge Wells Borough is heard by local civic and community leaders. He is working to form a forum for young people in the borough, drawing in representatives from year 10–13 students in fourteen local secondary schools.
He has also chosen to do all he can to raise funds for the local charity, Mental Health Resource, which supports both adults and young people with mental health concerns.
The youth of the ward contributed much to the civic service by way of readings and prayers, as well as serving as waiters and waitresses after the service, roving among chatting attendees, offering them finger food and soft drink—something they performed excellently. (For completeness it is to be noted that the food had been prepared by the mayor and mayoress in the early hours of that same morning! A rare thing to behold.)