Gospel Story Finder

Mom and Dad say that when I was born, I brought a special spirit into our home. I like to be a peacemaker. Whenever my brothers argue, I put up my hand and say, “Stop! No mad allowed!” If that doesn’t get them to stop, I lead them to the den and have them look at the picture of Jesus and talk to them about Him. Then I ask if they feel better. They always do.
Elizabeth Gibson, age 4 (with help from her mom)Goshen, Indiana

This is how President Thomas S. Monson (1927–2018) lived his life. Many years ago, I had an assignment with him. As part of the assignment, we were to be in a four-hour training meeting on a Saturday afternoon. However, he felt the prompting of the Holy Ghost to visit some people with great needs in order to lift their spirits and help them to be of good cheer. So for the first two hours, while I and other brethren were in the meeting, he was out doing good to others, ministering as the Lord did in His mortal life. President Monson joined us for the final two hours of the training meeting and did a marvelous job of teaching and training.
After the meeting, I commented on how well he taught in the meeting and then thanked him for the most powerful teaching: his example of going out and ministering to individuals, one by one. He smiled and said: “One thing about me, I am never confused about my priorities.” I thought about what he had said and after taking him to the airport and bidding him goodbye, I headed for home. Then I changed direction and went to visit a sister who was ill and needed some cheering up. Since that time, I have tried to live in my very imperfect way to be a light to others as the Savior commanded us to be and to do so in word, action, and deed.

Sometimes people won’t understand your actions, but if you follow the Holy Ghost, you will always know that you are doing the right thing. When I received my mission call, I had finished two years of schooling at Stanford University. I announced that I was dropping out of school for two years to serve a mission, and soon afterward, my advisor asked to meet with me. When I walked into his office, the first thing he said to me was, “Robert, are you crazy?” He told me that I was making a mistake and that the university might never let me back in. He encouraged me to finish my schooling and then serve a mission.
Many years later, I received a call from the prophet asking me to retire and serve as a General Authority. At the time, I had a responsible position in the United States government. I accepted the call, just as I had accepted the mission call when I was nineteen years old, and I announced my retirement. Soon afterward, a senior official walked into my office. The first thing he said to me was, “Robert, are you crazy?” I said, “I think I’ve heard this before.”
I wasn’t crazy when I served a mission, and I wasn’t crazy when I retired to serve as a General Authority. No matter what else is going on in your life, when the call to serve comes, that is the moment to do it.

Lonnie Johnston, a Laurel from Fallon, Nevada, is interested in a lot of things, including softball, volleyball, dancing, public speaking, and goat tying.

Goat tying?

Yup. Lonnie excels at goat tying and other rodeo events. As the National High School Rodeo Association’s queen, she is now spreading her message about how much fun rodeo events are.

“I want to educate people about how rodeo works and what it’s all about,” says Lonnie.

Her year as queen has afforded her the opportunity to travel around the country and make new friends.

“I always take my scriptures wherever I go. People always ask me what they are. It’s a great way to share the gospel!” she says.

Just less than one year after our arrival in Florida, our five-year-old son was diagnosed with a medical condition that would make life significantly challenging for him. We hoped it was a misdiagnosis and prayed for a miracle.
I do believe in miracles! But they didn’t seem to be happening for us the way I hoped. Did we not have enough faith? Did Heavenly Father hear our prayers?
Life was busy as we adjusted to a new place and new schools with a growing family. Elder Homer’s job required a lot of travel. It was a stretching time for sure. I wanted our home to be a happy, comfortable place for our children, yet I felt incapable of providing this for them as I was heartbroken and worried for our son. I often poured out my heart in prayer, and sometimes in those moments, I felt such peace, and I felt known and loved. I arose from those prayers feeling more lighthearted and capable, and this hope carried me through the tough times.
Our son is doing well now, but watching the ups and downs of his life was challenging. The truth that I was known and loved by God, and that, with His help, I can do what once seemed too difficult, deepened my testimony. Life, as President Russell M. Nelson said, did not become easy, but it became easier. [2] I know we are all children of a loving Father in Heaven, and while we may not fully understand what we are capable of, He does.

Mom brushed my hair softly and finished parting it before she caught my gaze in the mirror.
“You look awfully grumpy this morning,” Mom said cheerily to my reflection.
“That’s because I am grumpy,” I replied, scrunching up my face so my lower lip stuck out in a frown.
Mom turned me around and knelt in front of me, looking me in the eye. “You will make friends in this ward. Don’t worry!”
“But, Mom, I liked our old ward! I liked my old friends! Why did we have to move anyway?” I felt tears sting my eyes.
“Because of Daddy’s job!” a voice piped in helpfully.
My younger sister, Alison, peeked into the bathroom from the hallway. She smiled her biggest smile—so big it showed the gaps where she was missing her two front teeth and made her eyes disappear into little half-moons. I scowled at her.
“That’s right,” Mom said to her. Alison beamed.
“But I don’t have any friends here!” I said to Mom, ignoring my sister.
“You’ve still got me!” Alison said. I looked at her and saw that she was grinning at me.
“Great.” I rolled my eyes.
She frowned for a few seconds and then said, “We’re best friends!” She ran off laughing before I could shout back at her that we were not.
Later that day as I looked at the people in sacrament meeting, I didn’t know even one person in this new ward. My family had been here for only a few days. Please, Heavenly Father, I prayed, can’t I make just one new friend today?
I was nervous when sacrament meeting ended and my parents took us to our Primary classes. During class I sat alone and didn’t say anything.
When my class got up to go to the Primary room for sharing time, I was scared. I clutched my scriptures tightly as I walked down the hall. The Primary room was bright and cheery, and there were lots of children there. The pianist was playing a song I had learned in my old ward. I felt a little better.
But as I looked around, I realized I couldn’t find my class. I didn’t know where they had gone, and I didn’t have anyone to sit by. I glanced around the room again, biting my lower lip nervously and holding my scriptures tightly against my chest.
Then, from the corner of the room, a little girl started grinning and waving her hands at me. She was pointing to a seat next to her. I smiled back at her and rolled my eyes. She smiled her biggest smile—so big it showed the gaps where she was missing her two front teeth and made her eyes disappear into little half-moons.
This little girl had rescued me. She was the friend Heavenly Father had sent for me. She immediately made me feel welcome when I sat down—as though I had known her for years.
That day I decided that sisters are best friends.

It was early when Tayson rolled out of bed and put on old work clothes. He and Dad hurried and ate breakfast, then pulled on boots and work gloves.
“Grab those shovels and put them in the car,” Dad told Tayson. “We’re going to need them.”
Last night Dad got a call from Brother Merkley in the ward. Some of the houses nearby had filled with mud from a big storm. The owners needed lots of help cleaning out their muddy basements.
“Can I go?” Tayson had asked.
“Sure,” Dad said. “It’s going to be hard work, but I think you can do it.”
Tayson grinned. He was excited to help Dad out.
When they got to the house, they saw other people from their stake. The stake president patted Tayson’s shoulder and said he was glad Tayson was there.
Tayson was glad too—until he looked down the basement stairs. Squishy, wet mud piled halfway up the stairway! How would they ever get down there? Dad grabbed his shovel and plunged right into the mud. Tayson followed. He tried to step in Dad’s footprints, but the mud sucked the prints away before he could step into them.
“Can you start shoveling?” Brother Merkley asked Tayson’s dad. “And Tayson, maybe you can join the bucket brigade with me.”
Tayson followed Brother Merkley to the far end of the basement. Tayson got in line and passed a bucket full of mud to the person next to him. The last person in line lifted the bucket through the open window to someone outside. Then another bucket came down the line.
Tayson had never seen so many buckets in his whole life. And every one of them was full of mud. The line of buckets never seemed to end! Soon Tayson’s shoulders and arms got tired.
After working for several hours, everyone took a break. Tayson stretched his aching shoulders.
“I think we’ve got it under control here,” Brother Merkley said. “But if anyone can stay longer, it would be great to help other neighbors.”
Tayson rubbed his arms. He wondered if he could ever lift another bucket. But still he climbed up the stairs and followed Dad across the muddy grass to a neighbor’s house. Once again Tayson passed dozens of heavy buckets filled with mud down the line and out the basement window. His arms and back felt sore and limp as spaghetti. But he didn’t quit.
When the basement was cleared of mud, the man who lived in the house shook everyone’s hands. “I can’t believe you folks turned out to help people you don’t even know. I can’t thank you enough.”
Tayson and Dad returned home covered in mud. Tayson felt like every muscle in his body was sore and tired. Even his eyelids!
“I’ve never been so dirty,” Tayson said. “Not even when we went camping last summer. Do you think Mom will let us into the house?”
Dad looked down at his muddy shoes and burst out laughing. “I hope so. I don’t think we can go to church tomorrow looking like this!”
Go to Family Night Fun for an activity to go with this story. And go to page 37 for an activity all about dads!
“I hurt all over, but I feel good at the same time,” Tayson said.
“That’s the good feeling that comes from helping someone else,” Dad said. “I’m proud of you.”
Tayson was wet and cold from the hard, damp work, but Dad’s words warmed him all the way down to his toes.

Babe Ruth is revered in the nation’s heart as the home-run king. He was a winner, a champion in every sense of the word. But did you know that while he hit 714 homeruns, he struck out 1,330 times? He struck out almost twice as many times as he hit for the circuit.
The story is told that in the summer of 1927 at Shibe Park in Philadelphia, 35,000 baseball fans were all very busy booing one man. It was Babe Ruth. He had just struck out on three pitched balls for the second successive time. Two runners were left stranded on base.
He turned from the plate and headed for the dugout amidst the sounds of wild and abusive jeers. And before he sat down, he tipped his hat to the booing crowd with an unruffled smile.
His turn came up again in the eighth inning. This time the situation was critical. The Athletics were crowding out the Yankees, 3 to 1. The bases were loaded, and there were two out. He could win or lose the game for the Yankees, and he was going up to bat as a personal loser for the day. He selected his favorite bat and then stood at home plate facing one of baseball’s toughest pitchers. Now it all depended on him, the man who had just struck out twice, the man who had earned the insults of the crowd. The excitement was tremendous. All eyes were upon him.
The pitcher flung the first ball across the base. With all his power, Babe swung and missed. The next pitch was good, too, and Ruth swung so hard he fell over, raising a cloud of dust. It didn’t look good for him. But the third time, Ruth swung again, and this time he connected, connected with a loud explosion that sent the ball hurtling out of the park and beyond the houses across the street to make one of the longest hits in baseball history. (See Earl Nightingale, “Worth Remembering,” Our Changing World, No. 1180.)
Babe Ruth had staying power. He stayed in there when all looked lost. He didn’t become overwhelmed with his losses. He didn’t measure and remeasure again his failures. He didn’t declare himself a loser and curl up in the dugout and die. The greatest slugger kept trying, putting his heart on the line.

I can tell you from experience something about how to help if you are the one sent. Shortly after I was called to the Quorum of the Twelve, I got a phone call from President Faust, counselor in the First Presidency. He asked me to come to his office. I went with some concern as to why he would take the time to visit with me.

After some pleasantries, he looked at me and said, “Has it happened yet?” When I looked puzzled, he went on to say, “I’ve been watching you in meetings. It seems to me that you have been feeling that your calling is beyond you and that you are not qualified.”

I said that doubt had come to me, as if I had hit a wall. I expected that he was going to reassure me. I told him that I appreciated his being aware of my doubts and asked for his help. But I was surprised by his kind, firm reply. He said, “Don’t ask me. Go to Him.” Then he pointed up to heaven. Now years later I sit in that same office. When I walk into it I look up and remember him and how he taught me by example how to help those who are feeling overwhelmed in the Lord’s service. Find a way to send them with confidence to Him. If they will follow your counsel, they will gain the strength they need and to spare.

A short time ago I attended the funeral of a friend’s son. Earlier in the week, the young man was traveling home late at night with friends when the driver of another car fell asleep. The second car crossed the median and smashed head-on into the first. The accident occurred with such swiftness that few, if any, brake marks showed on the highway and both cars were demolished. The accident took three lives, including my friend’s 17-year-old son.
Death teaches that we do not experience a fulness of joy in mortality and that everlasting joy can be achieved only with the assistance of the Master (see D&C 33–34). Just as the lame man at the Pool of Bethesda needed someone stronger than himself to be healed (see John 5:1–9), so we are dependent on the miracles of Christ’s atonement if our souls are to be made whole from grief, sorrow, and sin. If grieving parents and loved ones have faith in the Savior and his plan, death’s sting is softened as Jesus bears the believers’ grief and comforts them through the Holy Spirit. Through Christ, broken hearts are mended and peace replaces anxiety and sorrow. I received a letter from the boy’s parents telling me the peace they have found through their faith in Christ. They know that they will see their son again and be with him in the eternities.

Get out the scrapbooks with the clippings and photographs of Holly’s skating career, and the picture of her after the first competition will tell you all you need to know about why she has been successful. There she is at six-and-a-half, standing in third place holding her little ribbon, with her eyes glued on the trophy in the first-place winner’s hands. The look in her eye is everything. It is a look of pure resolve, a look that says next time the trophy will be hers.
Holly’s mother, Marge, noticed the look also. “That’s when I realized her determination. The girl who placed above her had an axel in her routine. Holly didn’t do that yet. She came home and went right to work learning it. I realized then that she had something special. She would fall and fall but keep on trying.”

In December 2023, leaders from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Togo felt prompted to donate food to the community of Notse as part of the Africa West Area’s Light the World program. Notsé was chosen because of its historical significance in Togo. It is the cradle of the Ewe people and still has a king who is recognized as such by the Ewe people and their diasporas in the south of three countries: Benin, Togo, and Ghana. The current king is Togbe Agokoli IV.
On 9 December, a food donation was handed over to the king and his assistant and spokesperson, Togbe Afanwubo III. The spokesperson said of the offering, “This is the first time that I have seen a church which was not yet established in our community, making such a donation to the people.”
He expressed his appreciation for the Light the World initiative and thanked the Church for bringing the light of Christ to the widows and orphans at Christmas. “I also strongly encourage and invite your Church to be established in Notsé in the near future. I would ask your Church leaders to begin looking for land for a church building,” said Togbe Afanwubo III.
At the time there was no official congregation of the Church, but the community was already being prepared.

I was recently assigned to preside over a stake conference at the Salt Lake Granger West Stake in Utah. During this event, I met a stake president who has diligently developed his ability to discern the promptings of the Holy Ghost through righteous living and daily repentance. As part of our ministering efforts, we coordinated visits to three households. Upon completing our final visit, we found ourselves with approximately 30 minutes remaining before our next engagement. As we traveled back to the stake center, President Chesnut received an impression to visit one additional family. We both agreed to follow this prompting.
We proceeded to visit the Jones family, where we discovered Sister Jones confined to bed due to illness. It was apparent that she needed a priesthood blessing. With her permission, we administered to her. As we prepared to depart, Sister Jones asked how we knew of her urgent need for a blessing. The truth is, we didn’t know. However, our Heavenly Father, who was aware of her needs, did know and inspired President Chesnut to visit her home. When we are receptive to the guidance of the still, small voice, we are better equipped to more effectively minister to those in need.

Fourth, give your children the opportunity of having a joyful, happy childhood. The priesthood manual a few years ago quoted a story written in 1955 by Bryant S. Hinckley. It is as follows:
“‘Three hundred twenty-six school children of a district near Indianapolis were asked to write anonymously just what each thought of his father.
“‘The teacher hoped that the reading of the essays might attract the fathers to attend at least one meeting of the Parent-Teacher’s Association.
“‘It did.
“‘They came in $400 cars and $4,000 cars. Bank president, laborer, professional man, clerk, salesman, meter reader, farmer, utility magnate, merchant, baker, tailor, manufacturer, and contractor, every man with a definite estimate of himself in terms of money, skill, and righteousness. …
“‘The president picked at random from another stack of papers. “I like my daddy,” she read from each. The reasons were many: He built my doll house, took me coasting, taught me to shoot, helps me with my schoolwork, takes me to the park, gave me a pig to fatten and sell. Scores of essays could be reduced to “I like my daddy. He plays with me.”’
“Not one child mentioned his family house, car, neighborhood, food or clothing.
“The fathers went into the meeting from many walks of life. They came out in two classes: companions to their children or strangers to their children.
“No man is too rich or too poor to play with his children.” (The Savior the Priesthood and You, Melchizedek Priesthood Manual, 1973–74, p. 226.)

Some years ago I was visiting family, when the bishop asked me to conclude the sacrament service. As I was coming down from the stand, a woman approached me with her seven children and introduced herself as Sister Rebecca Guzman.
She asked, “Elder Rasband, do you know Rulon and Verda Rasband?”
I beamed and replied, “They are my parents.”
You can see where this is going. With Rebecca’s permission, who is here with family in the Conference Center, I share her family’s story.
My parents, Elder Rulon and Sister Verda Rasband, were serving as a senior couple in the Florida Fort Lauderdale Mission. They were proselyting and by divine guidance knocked on the door of Rebecca’s home. She was just a teenager and loved listening to the music of the Osmonds, in particular our friend Donny—who is here with us today. She had listened to their media interviews and learned they were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She felt there was something different about them, and thinking it might be their religion, Rebecca spent two years researching the Church’s beliefs in the school library. So, when a kindly-looking couple knocked on her family’s door and introduced themselves as Latter-day Saint missionaries, she was taken back.
“My mother told me to get rid of them,” Rebecca later wrote, “but my heart said, ‘No.’ I looked into their faces, and I felt so much warmth and love. The memory still brings tears to my eyes and deep emotion to my heart.”
Rebecca invited them in, and my missionary parents shared a message with her, her two younger sisters, and, despite her objections, her mother.
Rebecca described to me: “Both your parents were wonderful in explaining any questions we had. I can still see their faces as if there was light surrounding them. We always hugged your mother when she left, and she always made a point of helping my mother feel comfortable and respected. Your father always had a sparkle in his eyes as he was teaching us about Jesus Christ. He tried to include my father in discussions and eventually won him over. My father was a chef at a local country club and started cooking dinners for your parents, including making your father’s favorite, key lime pie.”
When Elder and Sister Rasband asked Rebecca and her family to read the Book of Mormon, Rebecca did so in five days. She wanted to be baptized immediately, but the other members of her family were not ready. After four months, Rebecca insisted she be baptized and join the true Church. She recalled, “Every fiber of my soul knew it was true.” On April 5, 1979, missionaries baptized 19-year-old Rebecca, her mother, and two sisters. My father was a witness at the baptism.
When I met Rebecca and her family at church, we took a photograph of her family with me. I took it home to my elderly mother, and she held it close to her heart. Then she said to me, “Ronnie, this is one of the happiest days of my life.”

Two years ago, the Lord touched my dear mother’s heart, which helped her decide to receive the ordinance of baptism. I had waited for that day to take place for almost 35 years. In order for her to make that decision, many members of the Church truly ministered to her as Christ would. One Sunday, she felt she should go to church. She followed the prompting. While she sat on the front row and waited for the sacrament service to begin, a four-year-old boy stood in front of her and looked at her. She greeted him with a smile. The little boy left her presence abruptly and walked back to his own seat, which was on the other side of the row where my mother was seated. This little boy picked up something from his seat and came back and handed my mother a hymnbook and walked back to his seat. My mother noticed a hymnbook was placed on every other chair in the chapel. She could have easily picked one up from the chair next to her. However, she was very impressed with the boy’s innocent act of kindness, which he had learned in his home and at church. It was a tender moment for her. She had a strong impression that God was inviting her to come and follow the Savior. She felt she should be baptized. This little boy did not seek recognition for what he did, but he simply did his best to live the word of God and to love his neighbor. His kindness created an important change of heart in my mother.

Tenth grader Carrie Olson Falahi wanted to start a club, but her mind wasn’t on drama or a specific sport. It was on people. “I’ve always had this idea that I could get people to go out into the community and help other people,” she says.
Carrie, a Laurel in the Springfield Fourth Ward in Missouri, dreams of someday participating in worldwide humanitarian aid, and she didn’t see a reason to wait until after high school to start pursuing that dream. “I really wanted to do something now, so why not start here in my own community?” she says.
She enlisted the help of fellow 10th grader Victoria Sutter and freshman Rebecca Carr to create a new kind of club for their school, the Youth in Action Club. The goal: to spend time—not money—in service. “I think time and service are among the most meaningful things you can give,” Carrie explains.
Rebecca agrees, adding, “It’s fun to get involved in a cause.” Little did these friends know just how much they would gain by giving service to others.
They quickly discovered one of the blessings of service: it brings people together. When Victoria first heard about the club, she was enthusiastic. “I’ve always liked community service,” she says, “but it’s hard going out by myself and doing it.” The club solved that problem. At the very first meeting 20 students showed up, eager to participate. With such a large group, it was easier not only to serve but also to make friends.
The club’s first project was helping a local organization assemble care baskets for mothers with premature newborns. “We were all working close together, and everyone was talking to everyone,” Victoria remembers. “I thought it was neat that we could be doing something for someone else while having fun and making new friends.”
Giving service also had its rewards at the club’s second project: preparing food at a local shelter where parents with severely ill children stay while their child is in the hospital. This was one of Rebecca’s favorites because it played to her love for cooking and gave the students a chance to interact directly with the people they were serving. “It was fun to see the surprise on their faces when they saw that a bunch of teenagers could actually cook something that you could eat!”
Since the club’s beginning in February 2009, the three friends have learned other ways that spending time in service has helped them too. Striving toward the goal of having one project per month, Carrie, Victoria, and Rebecca had to work hard together to organize each event, especially as their group grew from 20 to 50 members.
Before school let out for the summer, the club members put their muscle into helping a local care center for abused children store its stock of winter clothes and unpack its summer supplies. The club also spent a creative afternoon making scrapbooks for children.
With so much planning and organizing, everyone in the club became better team players. Carrie and Rebecca contributed service ideas from their youth group while Victoria found other service opportunities in the community. “The club helped me learn how to let other people share their ideas and do things their way,” Rebecca reflects. “I’ve learned how to better interact with others.”
The team effort of these friends was tested in their last month of school when, with only a week’s notice, their club adviser asked them to organize a food drive, which they carried out with success.
Looking to the future, Carrie, Victoria, and Rebecca plan to expand their club and lay the foundation for it to continue. “We’re hoping to have the club stay strong, even after we’re done with high school,” Rebecca says.
Leaving a legacy is important to these friends because they know the club has great lessons to offer. As they’ve served, Carrie, Victoria, and Rebecca have seen how true it is that you can find your life by giving it (see Matthew 16:25).
With all the friendship, interaction, teamwork, and fun, the Youth in Action Club members have received much more because of the service they’ve given. For Victoria, the club has taught her that the place to serve is here, and the time is now. “Why spend your time sitting around when you can be out doing something for people who can’t do it for themselves?” she says. “You feel so much better knowing that you’ve done something that will be appreciated.”
And for Carrie, giving her time in service has helped her gain new perspectives in her own life. “My attitude towards helping others has changed,” Carrie says. “I’ve helped others through struggles in their lives. I have a new, more open perspective towards everyone.”

As a cross-country runner I am often tempted to give up and quit during a race. During my first race this year, when I was just about to be overpowered and stop running, the words to the third verse of “How Firm a Foundation” filled my mind. The words gave me the courage to finish the race. But all this time I’ve been wondering how I came to know this verse when I hadn’t heard the song for so long.
As I was glancing through the August 1989 New Era I read how a girl was comforted in the story “A Song of the Spirit.” That’s where I had read the words to the song, and in a moment when I too needed comfort, the words came to bless me. Thank you for that special story which aided the Spirit in reminding me I am not alone.

Five-year-old Wesley Larsen of Layton, Utah, lies in a hospital bed recovering from multiple injuries to his leg. He is surrounded by balloons, get well greeting cards, and large toy animals. But the thing he keeps closest to him is a small, homemade, brown teddy bear. The bear was given to him by the paramedics. What Wesley does not know is the bear is a gift from the young women of the West Point Utah Stake.
Wesley tells about the paramedics who took him by ambulance to the hospital and gave him the small bear because he was “brave.” During the weeks he spent in traction to repair his leg, the bear was never far from his side.
The comforting bear was the result of a project organized by Micki Adams, West Point Stake Young Women president, and Annice Nixon, her second counselor. After reading in a newspaper of a similar project in another community, they talked with Captain K. D. Simpson of their local sheriff’s department with the idea of placing teddy bears with the sheriff’s paramedic and patrol units.
The bears would be helpful, Captain Simpson told them, because children are involved in approximately 45 percent of all the calls for services by his department.
Knowing how anxious children are when confronting a policeman or a paramedic, the young women of the stake decided, “to give the children something to focus on beside their pain,” Sister Adams said. “We wanted to give them something to hold on to and to love.”
Consequently, at a stake Young Women meeting, work began on cutting out, sewing, stuffing, and hand finishing more than 200 bears.
Lori Ellsworth, a Beehive said, “The first bear I did was hard to make until I got used to doing it. But it was worth it because it might help someone forget their pain.”
Ninety bears were actually completed that evening. The girls took home the unfinished bears to complete in their own time.
The bears are twenty centimeters tall and made from scraps of fabric donated by some stake members. Other members donated the stuffing for the bears.
The sheriff’s department received 100 of the teddy bears. Another 100 were donated to the local hospital where they were hung on a Christmas tree so young patients could choose one for themselves.
When the paramedics or sheriffs respond to a call involving anyone under the age of ten years, they give the child a teddy bear. That’s become department policy.
Captain Simpson said, “It took two or three times for the paramedics to hand out the bears before they realized how effective they were in calming the children. Now the paramedics and sheriffs rely on the bears whenever they work with children.”
However, young children have not been the only recipients. The paramedics gave a bear to an 80-year-old woman who suffered a stroke. “It was the only thing that calmed her down,” said Captain Simpson. “She wouldn’t let go of the bear.”
Captain Simpson, who is also a flight paramedic, knows from his own experience how effective the bears can be with children. Twelve-year-old Nicole Wallace had to be flown by helicopter from one hospital to another. She was bleeding internally from a lacerated kidney and liver suffered in an automobile accident. She refused to let go of her bear at any time during the transfer from hospital to helicopter to hospital. She finally gave up the bear just before undergoing surgery.
Speaking about the accident, Nicole says, “The car was badly smashed, and the paramedics had to take out the back seat before they could lift me out of the rear window. When they put me in the ambulance, they gave me this cute little bear,” Nicole said. “It kept me from getting scared. I would hold on to it, so I wouldn’t hurt so bad. In the hospital it stayed right by me in my bed.”
Jennifer Techmeyer, a Beehive, said, “I thought it was a really a good thing to do to make something to put in the ambulance for the children. But what was really special was being able to donate our love to them.”

As we talked about our plans for college and careers during that last dance, she changed the topic very abruptly.
“I just want to tell you thank you,” she said with a sincere smile.
Caught by surprise, I croaked out a confused response: “For what?”
“When I first started coming to these dances,” she said, “no one would dance with me or the other girls from my branch. I really wanted to get to know other LDS people, but I’m shy. So I would sit in a chair and wait and wait, but none of the boys would ever ask. It was so humiliating that one time, while sitting and watching other people, I vowed that I would never come to a Church dance again.
“That was just before you asked me to dance for the first time. Because of that, I came to the next dance, where you asked me again. I kept coming to dances these past few years because I knew that even if no one else would ask me to dance, you would. So, thank you.”