Gospel Story Finder

We all make mistakes. Big ones, small ones. Sometimes mistakes can grab us tighter than superglue grabs the wrong place on a model plane, and then we’re stuck.
That’s what happened to me when I was ten.
It all started during a friend’s birthday party. It was evening, and we were in her family’s boat, which was parked in the driveway. We started telling scary stories—the kind that give you the shivers and make you wish that you were at home with your stuffed animals.
Many times my parents had told me not to do such things. They had taught me that Satan was real and powerful in ways that I could not understand. It was a lesson I was sorry to learn for myself. How I wished that I’d been obedient.
It was even fun at first as we laughed the chills away. But soon things changed. The stories got scarier, and a dark, cold feeling came over us and we stopped laughing. We started singing hymns and Primary songs, hoping that we would soon feel better. We even said a prayer.
Over the next couple of days, I couldn’t shake the bad feeling surrounding me. For the first time, I realized just how powerful Satan can be and the consequences that can come from disobedience. I wasn’t just spooked. I wasn’t just scared. I knew with a certainty that a darkness was following me, a darkness that chilled my heart and made my soul quake with fear.
What could I do?
On Wednesday, after school, I walked to the chapel for Primary, which was held during the week in those days. I hoped that I could talk to my Primary teacher and that she would be able to help me find an answer to my problem.
Once I got there, I sat on the curb by the door and waited. And waited. Sitting there with that big building behind me, the wide-open parking lot surrounding me, and the empty field across the street, I felt very alone. I was terrified. I kept sitting there, wondering where everyone was. Why hadn’t anyone come? I went to a different school than the other children in my ward, and I usually didn’t see them walking to Primary. But I knew that someone should have been there—one of the leaders, a teacher, someone starting to set up. But no one came.
I finally realized that I had forgotten that Primary had been canceled. No one was coming.
The awful, lonely feeling grew stronger. It made me feel like I was drowning. I closed my eyes and prayed again for help.
Shortly after I opened my eyes, I heard a car coming around from the other side of the building. I looked up to see a familiar face through the open car window.
President Harold B. Lee, a member of my ward and someone who had been friendly to me, smiled. “Is everything all right?” he asked.
I stood up from the curb and nodded.
“I was on my way home,” he said, “when I was impressed that I should come by the chapel and make sure that everything was all right.”
I looked into the prophet’s face, and suddenly a great warmth filled me from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head. The darkness was gone.
I can’t actually remember if I said anything to him. It isn’t important. What is important is that I knew that not only did Heavenly Father love me but that He had listened to and answered my prayer.
And what an answer! It isn’t often that the prophet and President of the Church is sent to answer a single child’s prayer, but I’m grateful that he was sent. And when I make mistakes, big or small, and I feel them squeezing in around me and I know once more how strong Satan’s power can be, I can hear the prophet’s gentle voice asking, “Is everything all right?” And I know once again that everything can be.

Some months after our baptism, my husband and I were faced with unexpected adversity. Some of our most distressing trials concerned our children. It seemed as though no week passed without one of them being admitted to the hospital.
These trials went on for almost two years. Our income as civil servants in Nigeria went toward medical bills. The financial strain was so great my husband and I had to sell many of our belongings just to obtain food. I even had to sell some of my clothes. We lost everything we had worked for. But none of these trials shook our faith. We remained active in our branch and true to our covenants. Even when we did not have money for transport, we walked to church on Sunday morning.
Today, Pricilia is a healthy and happy girl. She has not been sick one day since leaving the hospital. She is everything a parent could want a daughter to be. Furthermore, the sicknesses that so beset our family have passed. We have outlasted these trials and have truly been blessed.

At first glance, Dusti Bills appears to be an average, confident 19-year-old who loves animals and Chinese food. You’d never suspect that she wasn’t expected to walk. Or that she didn’t cry until she was one. Or that she didn’t talk until she was three. Or that she has a disability that leaves her in almost constant pain.
Dusti was born with cerebral palsy, but she doesn’t let that stop her from doing the things she enjoys. And one thing Dusti loves is serving others.
Service is something Dusti, a member of the Riverton Utah First Ward, strongly believes in. When her brother was on his mission in Peru, he mentioned in one of his letters that some of the newly baptized members lacked appropriate clothing to wear to church. Dusti decided to help.
For one of her Value Projects, Dusti asked her friends to donate dresses that the Peruvian Saints could wear to church. When others found out what she was doing, clothing of all kinds began pouring in to the Bills’s home. After collecting and sorting, Dusti filled several suitcases to take with her family when they traveled to Peru to pick up her brother. The bags were crammed with everything from white baptismal clothes to suits for potential missionaries.
Dusti’s help didn’t stop there. Her new wheelchair had arrived a few days before she left Utah, so Dusti was more than willing to leave her old chair at the mission home in Lima. It would go to a woman who recently had a stroke and was no longer able to walk.
“I was just glad someone who needed it got to use it,” Dusti says.
Along with finding grateful Saints who were thrilled with their new clothes, Dusti found a little bit of herself, too.
“You could tell that the members were humble and they really believed in the Church and Jesus Christ. That made me think, I do know that the Church is the right one,” says Dusti. “I believe that Jesus Christ has a plan for everybody.”
Apparently Dusti thinks a big part of her plan includes service, as it is often the basis of what she does. For another Value Project, Dusti made arrangements for her ward’s Young Women group to volunteer at an elementary school for severely disabled children. Dusti had already spent countless hours there as a volunteer, and she wanted her friends to have the experience as well. Dusti feels a special connection with the children she works with, and is sensitive and understanding of their needs.
“I know the children are smart, and they’re thinking of stuff. They just can’t tell people,” Dusti explains.
Dusti’s first thought is to serve, but when she’s not organizing clothing drives or working with disabled preschoolers, she likes playing with her dog, Puck, and her bird, Kiwi. She also has two horses, two cats, a hamster, and a goat. She enjoys acting and playing bass clarinet, and she places high priority on getting things done.
Yet in the background, the surgeries, operations, and medication are a very real part of Dusti’s life. She tries hard to maintain a positive attitude.
Dusti remembers a time when she was 13 and came to terms with her condition. “I thought, Why am I in so much pain? Why does this have to happen to me? I just thought that it was part of the plan for me, and that I am going to know why some day.”
Dusti may not know now why she has to attend therapy sessions every week, or why she can’t go to the mall without her wheelchair. But she does know God has a plan for her life, and she knows that serving others is what brings her true happiness. She lives a life full of faith, determination, and service. And that’s anything but average.

A few years ago, a young man who was starting his senior year in high school resolved to nourish himself by studying the scriptures for half an hour each day. As he began reading the New Testament, he hit a stumbling block. He didn’t feel the anticipated spiritual high, and he wasn’t getting any insight. So he asked himself, “What am I doing wrong?” Then an episode at school came into his mind. He and some friends had been sharing jokes—some of which were not so funny, and downright shameful. He not only had joined in but had even added some off-color comments of his own. Just as he thought this, his eye fell on these words in Matthew: “But I say unto you, That every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment.” He knew that the Spirit had directed him to these words at this time. He turned from his Bible and offered up a prayer of repentance.
The answer to his question “What am I doing wrong?” was simple. He was reading the scriptures, marking the scriptures, and even enjoying the scriptures, but he was not living the counsel given in the scriptures. As he renewed his scripture reading and tried to live by Christ’s example, he soon noticed how different areas of his life began to blossom. By incorporating the scriptures into his life, he had added an important spiritual nutrient.

Not long ago a young American woman living in Taiwan felt that her taxi driver was taking her the long way around in order to increase the fare. She was in the process of venting her feelings in unmistakable terms when the young Chinese driver, obviously hurt by the accusation, stopped the cab, turned off the ignition, then turned around and said simply, “I would not do that. I am a Mormon.” Calmed down and totally disarmed by the sincerity of his statement, she then asked what a Mormon was. She obviously found out, as she joined the Church just three weeks later. It all happens so simply when the honest in heart are involved.

He showed up one night in a dream. He was reasonably good looking except for the fact that he was dressed in a carrot costume. “Hi there, I’m Carrot Guy,” he said. “Or if you like Dickens, think of me as the Ghost of Carrots Past.”
Strangely enough all her dreams took place in what looked like a movie theater. She yelled up to whoever worked in the projection room. “Hey, let’s get on to something a little more interesting here, okay?”
Nothing happened. She turned to face him. “How can you stand to go around dressed up like that?”
“If you think this is bad, try being a cabbage sometime.”
“Look, no offense, okay, but I don’t appreciate you taking up my valuable dream time. I want to dream about Kyle tonight.”
“This is really important stuff here. I’m going to take you on a nutrition journey in your dreams.”
She yelled at the projectionist. “I want another dream, and I want it now!”
“Nothing else is going to happen until I’m finished.”
Down in front of the theater a dim figure who looked like Kyle was standing in the shadows.
“Kyle, is that you? Look, come and take me to the junior prom. Or else we could go on a picnic. You don’t have to make any serious commitment here, you know, because it’s only a dream.”
Kyle stayed where he was.
“It’s no use. We need to begin our journey.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you dressed like that.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t go out with carrots.”
In a flash he was gone, and in another flash he was back. This time he was wearing jeans and a shirt. The only clue about his identity was a designer carrot sewed onto his shirt. “How’s that?” he asked.
“Better.”
“Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“Where are we going?”
“To lunch.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“We’re not going to eat. We’re going to watch you eat the lunch you were served at the school cafeteria today.”
Suddenly they were in the school cafeteria. People walked right through them. “Busy place,” he said.
“Can we go see Kyle?”
“He wouldn’t be able to see you.”
“I just want to stare at him.”
“Instead of that let’s watch you eat lunch.”
“And then can we watch Kyle for a while?”
“We’ll see.”
They walked to the table where she’d sat at lunch that day. “Let’s see,” he began. “We got two slices of bread, some margarine, carrot and celery sticks, a bowl of soup, and a tuna sandwich. That’s what they put on your tray. What did you eat?”
“Nothing.”
“All you had for breakfast was a glass of orange juice. So why weren’t you hungry?”
“I don’t know why. I just wasn’t.”
“Why don’t we ask your stomach if you were hungry?”
“Look, if my stomach is going to start talking in this dream too, then I’m out of here. I’m serious. I’ll wake myself up and never go to sleep for the rest of the night.”
“Relax. Stomachs don’t talk; they just growl. And your stomach was growling while you sat there and looked at your lunch. You were hungry, but you didn’t eat.”
“I’m trying to lose weight.”
“Why?”
“I weigh too much.”
“Did your doctor tell you that?”
“No. I can tell that I do though.”
“How can you tell?”
“I just can.”
“You didn’t eat anything for lunch then, did you?”
“No.”
He sounded hurt. “You threw away everything—even the carrots?”
“I tried to get my friends to eat some of my lunch but they didn’t want it either.”
“But you were still hungry.”
“Not really.”
“Your stomach was growling and you felt weak. You lasted until two thirty and then you bought two candy bars and ate them.”
“I only had one candy bar.”
“It was two. And then you felt so guilty you promised yourself that, to make up for it, you wouldn’t eat supper.”
“I want out of this dream.”
“Sorry but you’re stuck with me for a while. You hardly ate a thing at supper, and then you went to your room to study. At nine o’clock you went downstairs and dished out a quart of ice cream and took it to your room and ate it, and then you felt guilty again and promised yourself that tomorrow would be different and you’d skip breakfast and lunch to make up for the ice cream. Would you like to see those scenes again?”
“No.”
“There’s a pattern developing that can do you a lot of harm if it continues. Why is this happening?”
“I told you before. I need to lose weight.”
“You want to look like the girls on TV that advertise diet soda, is that it?”
“No, but what’d be wrong if I did?”
“Why not accept the body you have rather than the one the billboards and magazines and TV ads say you should have?”
“I just want to lose ten pounds, that’s all. What’s so bad about that?”
“What do you know about nutrition?”
“Enough.”
“The truth is you don’t know much, and what you think you know is wrong.”
“How do you know what I know or don’t know?”
“Let me test you. You think that to lose weight you have to really cut down what you eat. Right?”
“Yeah sure.”
“Wrong. If you quit eating then your body thinks there’s a famine and it starts storing fat cells like crazy, trying to get ready for when there’s no food at all coming in. If you want to lose weight, you have to eat a lot so your body doesn’t worry about where the next meal is coming from.”
“If I ate a lot then I’d gain weight.”
“Not if you eat the right things.”
“What are the right things?”
“Vegetables, fruits, bread, cereal, things like that. And cut down on those double cheese bacon burgers and fries.”
“Basically you’re telling me to eat the way my mother says.”
“Yeah basically.”
“It’s got to be more complicated than that.”
“Is what you’re doing now working for you?”
“It would if I’d just stick to it.”
“Right now you spend most of your time thinking about food. You’re either feeling guilty you ate something or else you’re craving something to eat. You’re becoming totally preoccupied about food. If you ate normally, you’d have more time to think about other things.”
“Like Kyle.”
“If you ate more normally, you’d have more energy to go over and talk to Kyle instead of just looking at him from a distance.”
“I could never do that.”
“Why not?”
“I just couldn’t, that’s all.”
“He’d like to have someone he could talk to.”
“He would?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll do it, but first I want to lose ten pounds.”
“If you wait that long, Diane will be his best friend.”
“All right, I’ll do it, and I’ll eat sensibly and everything. Now can you go away so I can dream about Kyle.”
“Not yet. We have one more visit to make. We need to talk about something else.”
Suddenly they were standing in her kitchen at home. “This is last Sunday right after church,” he said. “Do you remember what happened?” You wanted to watch TV. You asked your dad, and he said he thought you shouldn’t watch TV on Sunday. It really made you mad because the reason you wanted to watch is because you were writing a report about dolphins in school and this was a special hour show about dolphins. Do you remember being angry?”
“Yes, I had a good reason to watch the show.”
“You were angry, but all you did was get up from the table and go to your room and shut the door.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“You didn’t explain anything. You just kept your feelings inside of you.”
“What do you think I should have done, started yelling?”
“No, it’s good to control anger, but you need to express your feelings. You could have told your dad you didn’t think it was fair. You could have explained why you wanted to see that particular TV program.”
“It wouldn’t have done any good.”
“Maybe you still wouldn’t have been allowed to watch TV, but at least talking about how you felt would have got your feelings out in the open instead of keeping them bottled up inside you.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“I think you got even by eating that quart of ice cream in your room later that afternoon. And then you felt so guilty about it you went in the bathroom and on purpose threw everything up. Didn’t you?”
She wouldn’t look at him. “I promised myself I’d never do it again.”
“You’re getting into a pattern that keeps repeating itself. It doesn’t leave much time for anything else, does it?”
“I told you, I’ll never do it again. Now can I dream about Kyle?”
“This is probably not something you can stop all by yourself. You need to tell your parents what’s going on.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“It would really upset them.”
“They’re not china dolls that’ll break at the slightest problem. They can handle it.”
“Why do I have to tell them?”
“So they can get you some help if you need it.”
“I can stop it myself.”
“Maybe you can, but you still need to tell them right away because they already sense something’s wrong. They just don’t know what it is. Promise me you’ll tell your parents in the morning.”
It took her a long time to decide, but finally she said, “Okay.”
The scene changed and Kyle was there with a big smile on his face. “Thanks for calling me last night,” he said.
“I called you last night?” she asked.
And then it was morning and her mother opened the door to her room and told her it was time to get ready for school.
As she walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, her father was reading the paper and her mother was fixing breakfast. She sat down at the table, looked around, took a deep breath, and began. “Mom, Dad, there’s something I need to talk to you about. There’s this problem I have and I may need some help.”
Her father put down his paper, and her mother came away from the stove.
And then they talked.

“I want to be a missionary now. I don’t want to wait until I’m grown. …”* Andrew Gibson understands the meaning of this Primary song—in fact, he lives it! Andrew, a nine-year-old who lives just outside of Erie, Pennsylvania, is an outgoing boy who likes to share the gospel with people he meets. Right now he is the only member of the Church in his school, so he has many missionary opportunities. He says, “I talk about the Church with my friends. If you tell people about the gospel, or invite your friends to church, you’re being a missionary.”
Andrew is preparing now to serve a mission when he is older. “I am trying to obey the commandments,” he says. “And I’m also trying to save money.” He knows that setting and working toward goals is important. In addition to serving a mission, he wants to attend college and earn a Ph.D. For now, he is working on some short-term goals. In the past year, he has learned the multiplication tables, and he is still working to improve his handwriting.
Andrew faces challenges in life, like a life-threatening peanut allergy. He has to be very careful to not eat any peanuts. “The hard part is that you have to read the labels for everything you eat,” he says. “I can’t eat things like birthday cake at parties, just to be safe. My mom brings another treat for me.” He has to carry medicine with him at all times in case he accidentally eats peanuts. But the challenge has helped to strengthen his faith. “Every year before school starts I receive a priesthood blessing, and we pray that I will be safe. I feel like the priesthood blessings have protected me.”
Andrew knows that being a good example is one of the best ways to be a missionary to others. He tries to be an example to his dad, who is not a member of the Church. Andrew and his dad have a lot of fun playing sports and spending time together. Dad, who is also Andrew’s den leader, is helping Andrew work toward his Bear badge in Scouting. One of Andrew’s favorite Scouting activities was going fishing in a parking lot! First the leaders made a “fishing hole” out of boxes and duct tape, then they taught the boys how to cast fishing poles with bait into the “hole.”
Andrew likes to spend time with his entire family, including his mom and his sisters Rachel and Sarah. The family enjoys outdoor activities like swimming. They also like traveling. One place they like to visit is Presque Isle State Park, located on a nearby peninsula that juts out into Lake Erie. The family likes to rollerblade and bike on the paths that wind along the beaches there.
Living in Pennsylvania puts Andrew’s family close to many of the Church history sites. A few years ago, the family visited the Palmyra New York Temple. While there, the family also visited the Sacred Grove. Andrew says, “I remember walking around and looking at the trees. I wondered where Joseph was praying when he saw Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.” His family has also visited the Nauvoo area where he saw Carthage Jail and learned about how the Prophet Joseph was martyred. “It was sad,” he says softly.
Andrew’s testimony has grown in many ways. He says, “I know the Church is true, and that the Book of Mormon is true.” How does he know? “Our family reads the Book of Mormon together every night. I prayed about the Book of Mormon, and I got a happy feeling.” With this strong foundation, Andrew is working hard to be a good missionary now to prepare to serve a mission when he is older.

Wilford Woodruff, as President of the Church, described his experience in the offices of the priesthood:
“I heard the first sermon I ever heard in this Church. The next day I was baptized. … I was ordained a Teacher. My mission immediately commenced. … I went through that whole mission as a Teacher. … At the conference I was ordained a Priest. … After I was ordained a Priest I was sent … on a mission to the southern country. That was in the fall of 1834. I had a companion with me, and we started out without purse and scrip. I traveled alone a good many miles and preached the Gospel, and I baptized a number that I could not confirm in the Church, because I was only a Priest. … I traveled some time preaching the Gospel before I was ordained an Elder. …
“[Now] I have been some fifty-four years a member of the Twelve Apostles. I have traveled with that and other quorums now for sixty years; and I want to say to this assembly that I was just as much sustained by the power of God while holding the office of a Teacher, and especially while officiating in the vineyard as a Priest, as I ever was as an Apostle. There is no difference in this so long as we do our duty.”

Hannah herself has plucked the past from the earth. In digging a foundation for a rabbit hutch, Brother Courage unearthed an odd-shaped piece of metal. Hannah pounced on it and insisted that it was a valuable artifact. She was right! Experts confirmed it to be a quillon (a centuries-old-dagger); it is now on loan to a museum in Blandford. She also discovered the base of a thirteenth-century blue-glass vase!

“Please give these dish towels to Suzi,” Grandma said. She handed Nika a stack of towels. “She can put them in the box with the other kitchen things.”
“Great-grandmother sure had a lot of nice things,” Nika said, fingering the dish towels with the embroidered edges before handing them to Suzi. “The whole house is like a treasure chest.”
“Yes, it is,” Grandma said. She reached into a cupboard and brought out some beautiful dishes.
“What will you do with all of these wonderful treasures now that Great-grandmother has died?” Nika asked. “Can we keep them?”
“We’ll divide them among family members and give the rest to charity,” Grandma said. She began wiping dust off the dishes.
“Look what I found,” Uncle Mike said, laying a large book on the table. “It’s an old photo album. And look at this, Nika,” he said. He carefully turned the brown pages. “Here’s a photo of your great-great-grandmother when she was about your age.”
Nika looked closely at the black-and-white photo of the smiling little girl. She was wearing button-up boots, her hair was in long ringlets, and she was holding a china doll in her arms.
“Look at that!” Nika said, pointing excitedly. “She’s missing a tooth, just like me!” Nika stuck her tongue through the gap in her teeth.
“So she is,” Uncle Mike said. “And you both have the same freckly nose.” He smiled and carefully closed the album.
“Grandma,” Nika said, folding some cloth napkins, “are family pictures the treasure you want to keep?”
Grandma looked up from dusting. “I’m grateful to get the photos and family records. I want to organize them and make copies to share. They are important to me because they strengthen the thing I treasure even more.”
“What’s that?” Nika asked.
“This.” Grandma waved her hand to indicate the whole room.
“The house?” Nika was puzzled.
“No. Look again,” Grandma said. “What do you see in this room?”
Nika looked around. She saw her relatives everywhere, all working together.
“Family,” Nika said at last. “That’s what you treasure most, isn’t it?”
“Exactly,” Grandma said. “That’s the only thing that can last forever.”
“Were Great-grandma and Great-grandpa married in the temple?” Nika asked.
“Yes. They did their part to make sure our family is sealed together,” Grandma said.
“Do you know what treasure I’d like?” Nika asked.
“What?”
“I’d like you to tell me more stories about that girl with the missing tooth in the photo.”
“Oh, I have lots of stories to tell you,” Grandma said. “The question is, will you have time to hear them all?”
“I will,” Nika declared. “Even if it takes forever!”

Katie sat with her parents in the bishop’s office. The bishop, his counselors, and President Barlow talked with Daddy and Mommy. President Barlow was a member of the stake presidency. Grandma and Grandpa Chadwick, Daddy’s parents, were also there.
Daddy was being set apart as the ward elders quorum president. Five-year-old Katie didn’t understand what being set apart meant.
Mommy had told her that when someone is called to a position in the Church, Heavenly Father wants that person to receive a special blessing from those with priesthood authority.
Daddy sat in a chair in the middle of the room. “Dad, will you participate in the setting apart?” he asked Grandpa.
Tears gathered in Grandpa’s eyes. “I’d be honored,” he said.
Grandpa joined the other men in a circle around the chair where Daddy sat. They placed their hands on Daddy’s head.
Katie saw Mommy and Grandma Chadwick close their eyes and fold their arms. Katie closed her eyes and folded her arms, too.
President Barlow said a prayer, but it was a different kind of prayer than Katie was used to hearing. He asked Heavenly Father to bless her daddy in performing his duties.
When the blessing was over, everyone said, “Amen.” Katie said, “Amen,” too.
Her daddy stood and wiped tears from his eyes. “Thank you,” he said to the men. “I’ll do my best to help the elders in our ward.”
The men in the circle all shook his hand.
Katie sat on the chair and folded her arms. “I’m ready, Daddy.”
“What are you ready for, sweetheart?” Daddy asked.
“I want a blessing, too,” Katie said.
Her parents exchanged glances. The other people in the room smiled.
“I think that’s a good idea,” Daddy said. “You aren’t being set apart, but you can have a father’s blessing.” Then he placed his hands on Katie’s head. He blessed her that she would be able to choose the right and obey her parents. At the end of the blessing, everyone said, “Amen.”
Katie got down from the chair and held out her hand. Daddy shook her hand. Katie felt warm and happy inside.

Some months went by, and the family moved to a different town. The following December, Greg came into the house carrying an envelope. “We got a letter from Sister Fuhriman,” he called. He tore it open and read:
“I will miss your family this Christmas. I don’t believe I ever told you how much I enjoyed Christmas Eve in your home. I must tell you now what I did not tell you then.
“Some years before you moved into the house across the road from me, I had a dream. I could see your house, all lit up and glowing. When I awoke from that dream, I had the most wonderful, happy, peaceful feeling—something I had not experienced very often since my husband’s death.
“Months went by, and I forgot all about my dream. Then came your invitation for Christmas Eve. I had such a wonderful time sharing in your family celebration.
“After the boys walked me back home, I stood on my porch to make sure they returned home safely. Just then I noticed your house all aglow. It was the same picture I had seen in my dream years ago, and I had the very same feeling of peace. I just wanted you to know how I appreciated you.”
As Greg read Sister Fuhriman’s words, he remembered the warmth he had felt that night. He was grateful his family had shared their celebration with Sister Fuhriman, bringing her Christmas comfort and joy.

Some years ago I accepted an invitation to a fathers and sons outing, where the participants spent an arduous but interesting day mounted on horses on a trip to Bloomington Lake in the mountains of Bear Lake County, Idaho. Late at night, after the campfires had all burned out and everyone had settled down under the open heavens, I lay on my back, gazing overhead. It was a moonless night, and I have never seen such a beautiful sight. The heavens were alive with the brightness of stars and planets. How small I felt in comparison to that vast universe! A sense of appreciation came over me as I thought of God’s glory, of his handiwork, the earth, the heavens, all created for one purpose—his children, mankind. That experience has remained with me. I was overwhelmed by the magnitude of it.

“Meet you at the graveyard.” That was the byword for the Pleasant Hill First Ward Young Men and Young Women, Walnut Creek California Stake, for their super service project. They met at the cemetery in Martinez, California, carrying rakes, hoes, and shovels that were put to good use during the next few hours. Some of the older volunteers started cataloguing the graves, too, to help with the genealogical records for the graveyard. The cemetery was the only one in the county during 1850 through 1870, so many of the pioneers who settled that part of the San Francisco Bay Area are buried there. Despite the rain, the group of 35 volunteers transformed the badly neglected cemetery into an orderly, well-cared-for place.

Sister Mayra is a recent convert from Ecuador. Her joy in the gospel skyrocketed immediately following her baptism as she invited friends and loved ones around her through social media accounts. Many family members and friends who saw her posts responded with questions. Mayra connected with them, often inviting them to her home to meet with the missionaries together.

Mayra’s parents, her siblings, her aunt, two cousins, and several of her friends were baptized because she courageously invited them to “come and see,” “come and serve,” and “come and belong.” Through her normal and natural invitations, over 20 people have accepted her invitation to be baptized members of the Church of Jesus Christ. This came about because Sister Mayra simply invited others to experience the joy she felt as a member of the Church.

Li Hsiao-lung, 17, of the First Ward, said having a temple in Taipei continues a history of conversion in her life. “When my brother was baptized, he recognized that the gospel is precious. He decided to share this sweet fruit. He invited me to church, and I heard the missionary discussions. He got me excited about reading the scriptures. He taught me how to pray. Since I’ve been in the Church, I feel like my understanding keeps growing and growing. I think that when I go to the temple, it will help me to keep growing and understanding.”

I met B. J. the Saturday we moved to Pinedale. I was walking down the snowy street with my ice skates when a kid with glasses slipped and slid into me. He was chasing a fuzzy little dog.
“Sorry,” he said, pulling me up and brushing the snow off my pants. “Mrs. James’s dog, Snuggles, escaped from her apartment, and I told her I’d catch him. I’m B. J. Are you new around here?”
“Yeah. We just moved into that blue house,” I answered, pointing across the street. “I’m Jack.”
“Hi.” B. J. grinned, and I felt my mouth curve into a smile. He was a funny-looking kid with hair that stuck out from under his hat like straw, but his friendliness made me feel good. I didn’t know anyone else in the neighborhood yet.
“Do you like to ice skate?” I asked. “I’m going over to the rink.”
“Help me catch Snuggles,” B. J. said, “and I’ll show you the best ice in town.”
“Sure!”
“Come on then.” B. J. was already running down the street. “Snuggles always heads over to the flower shop. He has a crush on the poodle that lives there.”
B. J. cut down alleys and zigzagged through town as if he were in a maze. “I’ve lived here all my life,” he told me. “I know the best shortcuts.”
A few minutes later, we found Snuggles curled up in a furry ball against the flower shop door. B. J. scooped him up and gave him a scratch behind the ears. “Sorry to interrupt your date,” he told Snuggles, “but Mrs. James is waiting for you.”
After we took the dog back and got B. J.’s skates, he led me to an awesome pond. The frozen surface looked as smooth as polished silver. Kids raced around it, their winter jackets blurs of bright colors.
“I usually skate here,” B. J. said as we sat down on a bench near a tiny building. “That’s the chalet for warming up. They sell snacks inside, too.”
After we laced our skates, B. J. introduced me to Mike, Leroy, and Jenna. He seemed to know the entire town. Before long, we were all playing tag, and I felt the sting of the icy cold air on my cheeks as I flew across the frozen pond.
B. J. had just tagged me when a little girl in a pink coat slipped and fell. She started to cry, and B. J. whipped over to help her up.
“Is this your sister?” I asked, skating up to them.
“No, it’s Emma,” he answered, holding her hand to steady her. “She hurt her knee. I’m going to take her inside and get her some hot chocolate.”
“Oh,” I said. “What about our game?”
“I’ll be back—go ahead and play.”
“Come on, Jack,” Mike hollered. “You’re it.” So I skated off to tag him. I figured Emma must be B. J.’s cousin or something like that. Why else would he take care of her?
Over the next few weeks, I got to know B. J. a lot better. He lived with his mother and sister in an apartment downtown. I could tell when I visited that they didn’t have much money. Nothing about the place was fancy, but B. J. didn’t mind and neither did I. His mom laughed all the time, and he was quickly becoming my best friend.
We both loved skating and collecting coins. We both built model airplanes, too. In fact, we got along great! But I couldn’t understand why B. J. did some of the crazy things he did—like letting Jenna play his trumpet solo in the Christmas program.
“Why did you let Jenna play the solo?” I asked him. “You were going to steal the show.”
“Jenna’s dad is coming to town just to see her,” he told me. “She’s really excited about it. He hasn’t been around much since her parents got divorced. It’s important to her.”
“But what about you?”
“I don’t mind.” He shrugged. “Let’s finish our homework and go sledding. I’ll show you the hill we call Double-Decker.”
When we went sledding, he loaned his sled to a couple of boys who didn’t have one and doubled up with me. I didn’t bother to ask him why. Afterward we went for a snack to a little restaurant he knew about. Before we left, he swept the floor for the owner. “He has arthritis,” B. J. whispered to me, “and sweeping hurts his hands.”
On the way home, we passed a theater, and a man in a long robe stumbled and fell down in front of us. I helped him up. He had long brown hair, and he was wearing sandals in the snow. He looked like the paintings of Jesus Christ I had seen in Primary.
“Are you all right?” I asked. I knew he was an actor, but he looked so much like I thought Jesus must look that I wanted to help him as much as I could.
“I’m not used to wearing sandals,” he said, thanking me. “I have to go now. They’re waiting for me inside.”
“Have a good day,” I said as I watched him hurry inside.
“Did you see that actor?” I asked B. J. “I felt like I was helping Jesus.” B. J. smiled.
“Now you know my secret,” he said. “I always try to treat people as if they were Jesus Christ. Then it’s easy to help them, and I feel happy, too.”
That night, I thought a long time about what B. J. had said. Then I decided to get up early in the morning and shovel the sidewalks for my dad. He might wonder why I’m being so helpful, but now that B. J.’s secret is my secret, the idea makes perfect sense to me.

Hi. We’re brothers. During the pandemic, we read more and spent more time outside. We especially like swimming and football (soccer). Here are other ways we grew.
Jannis: I appreciate my parents more. They help a lot with school at home. To help them, I’m spending more time with our little sister so my parents can have some peace. I’ve been more involved in the sacrament each week. And I also started studying the scriptures in seminary. These things have strengthened my faith. I am impressed with how Joseph Smith kept going in spite of difficulties. From him I’ve learned that I shouldn’t give up and that when I have questions, I should read the scriptures and find my answers there.
Till: At school, I really like math. When I need help with school, my parents always offer to help. I also help look after our sister. Lately, my faith has increased through being more involved in the sacrament. I’m also reading the Doctrine and Covenants.
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The Jeffrey family, from Illinois, USA, recognizes the freedom that comes from managing their finances with a budget. When the Jeffrey children were very young, the family realized that three of them would be serving missions at the same time. Recognizing the financial strain this would place on the family, their mother, Olga, implemented a strict budget. Along with paying 10 percent of the family’s income to tithing, Sister Jeffrey set aside an additional 10 percent to save for her future missionaries. “I realized that finances could become a stumbling block and that we needed to be prepared to provide the means for our children to serve the Lord,” Sister Jeffrey says.
As the Jeffrey children began leaving on missions, their parents were financially prepared, and the Lord blessed them.

My mom never accepted the gospel in her earthly journey, even though I had prayed for her and felt she would accept it someday. She was a strong woman who sacrificed throughout her life to support our family after the Korean War. On the one-year anniversary of my mom’s death, my wife and I went to the Los Angeles California Temple to perform her baptism and confirmation. The strong Spirit in the room confirmed to me that my mom gladly accepted the gospel and the ordinances.