Gospel Story Finder

Early in her marriage, Lucy prepared herself to raise a prophet. On one occasion she became seriously ill, and the doctors said she would die. Lucy records that she “made a solemn covenant with God that if He would let me live I would endeavor to serve him according to the best of my abilities.” After a voice assured her that she would live, she told her mother, “The Lord will let me live, if I am faithful to the promise which I made to him, to be a comfort to my mother, my husband, and my children.”3

It’s 6:00 p.m. at the Yoshida family’s natural health products store in El Paso, Texas—time to close for the day. Julio and Gabriela, with help from their children, wait on their last customers, tidy up, and prepare to head home.

As different as the Hernandez and Yoshida businesses are from each other, they have something important in common. They owe their success, at least partially, to principles taught through the Church’s self-reliance initiative.

“If you make the principles of self-reliance the basis of your business, it will grow,” says Julio Yoshida. “It will become stronger and more stable. The self-reliance program also made me stronger and more positive. I find greater meaning in my work and more opportunities when I apply these principles.”

When the Yoshidas opened their business in 2016, Julio was serving as their ward’s bishop. Both money and time were tight.

“When you start a business, you have to be prepared economically and mentally because you might not have a lot of income at first,” says Gabriela Yoshida. “We didn’t suffer any losses when we opened, but our income fell short of what we were accustomed to because we were investing so much in the business. We had to tighten our belts and adjust our budget. We guarded each dollar that went out.”

In 2017, Gabriela, in charge of their family finances, attended a Personal Finances for Self-Reliance course. Julio, in charge of their business finances, took the Starting and Growing My Business course. He says that learning to use financial resources more wisely—both at home and at work—was paramount.

“I became better organized in what we bought and sold,” he says. “I made sure we moved old merchandise first and newer merchandise later. We began purchasing with better efficiency. We eventually got rid of stuff we didn’t sell. We also applied what we learned to our advertising.”

To determine the effectiveness of their advertising, they surveyed new customers to find out how they had heard about the business.

“We advertised on two TV stations, one in English and one in Spanish,” says Gabriela. “Given that many of our clients speak Spanish, we were surprised to learn that the station in English worked better for us.”

Julio Yoshida and his daughter Martha wait on customers at their family business.

That principle also blessed the Yoshida family.

“We didn’t think we had enough money to save any, but we said, ‘We must have a savings, come what may,’” says Gabriela. “So, we started saving, though it was only a small amount each month.”

During the first three years that they ran their business, the Yoshidas worked hard, saved, and sacrificed. Their children also helped at the store.

“We all worked in the family business, and we didn’t have any rest for three years,” says Sister Yoshida. “We had two children serving missions, and there wasn’t money for a vacation. We just kept saving until finally we could all enjoy a summer vacation together. We deserved it!”

It can take a while for a start-up business to begin making money and for a family to build up a savings, but for the Yoshida, Hernandez, and Vasquez families, embracing inspired principles has brought them blessings.

“It’s very important that we pay our tithing,” says Brother Yoshida. “We have had some tight times, but we have always remembered to live this law, and the Lord has blessed us greatly. We are self-reliant. That’s what we wanted.”

The story is told that in ancient Rome a group of women were, with vanity, showing their jewels one to another. Among them was Cornelia, the mother of two boys. One of the women said to her, “And where are your jewels?” To which Cornelia responded, pointing to her sons, “These are my jewels.” Under her tutelage and walking after the virtues of her life, they grew to become Gaius and Tiberius Gracchus—the Gracchi, as they were called—two of the most persuasive and effective reformers in Roman history. For as long as they are remembered and spoken of, the mother who reared them after the manner of her own life will be remembered and spoken of with praise also.

“… Two weeks ago, I received a touching letter from a father of seven who wrote about his family and, in particular, his son Jason, who had become ill when 11 years of age. Over the next few years, Jason’s illness recurred several times. This father told of Jason’s positive attitude and sunny disposition, despite his health challenges. Jason received the Aaronic Priesthood at age 12 and ‘always willingly magnified his responsibilities with excellence, whether he felt well or not.’
“Last summer, not long after Jason’s 15th birthday, he was once again admitted to the hospital. On one of his visits to see Jason, his father found him with his eyes closed. Not knowing whether his son was asleep or awake, he began talking softly to him. ‘Jason,’ he said, ‘I know you have been through a lot in your short life and that your current condition is difficult. Even though you have a giant battle ahead, I don’t ever want you to lose your faith in Jesus Christ.’ He said he was startled as Jason immediately opened his eyes and said, ‘Never!’ in a clear, resolute voice. Jason then closed his eyes and said no more.
“His father wrote: ‘In this simple declaration, Jason expressed one of the most powerful, pure testimonies of Jesus Christ that I have ever heard. . . . As his declaration of ‘Never!’ became imprinted on my soul that day, my heart filled with joy that my Heavenly Father had blessed me to be the father of such a tremendous and noble boy. . . . [That] was the last time I heard him declare his testimony of Christ.’
“Although his family was expecting this to be just another routine hospitalization, Jason passed away less than two weeks later. An older brother and sister were serving missions at the time. Another brother, Kyle, had just received his mission call. In fact, the call had come earlier than expected, and on August 5, just a week before Jason’s passing, the family gathered in his hospital room so that Kyle’s mission call could be opened there and shared with the entire family.
“In his letter to me, this father included a photograph of Jason in his hospital bed, with his big brother Kyle standing beside the bed, holding his mission call. The caption was written beneath the photograph: ‘Called to serve their missions together—on both sides of the veil.’
“Jason’s brother and sister already serving missions sent beautiful, comforting letters home to be shared at Jason’s funeral. His sister, serving in the Argentina Buenos Aires West Mission, as part of her letter, wrote: ‘I know that Jesus Christ lives, and because He lives, all of us, including our beloved Jason, will live again. . . . We can take comfort in the sure knowledge we have that we have been sealed together as an eternal family. . . . If we strive our best to obey and be better in this life, we will see [him again].’ She continued: ‘[A] scripture that I have long loved now takes on new significance and importance at this time. . . . [From] Revelation chapter 21, verse 4: ‘And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.’
“[A] scripture that I have long loved now takes on new significance and importance at this time. . . . [From] Revelation chapter 21, verse 4: ‘And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.’
“My beloved brothers and sisters, in our hour of deepest sorrow, we can receive profound peace from the words of the angel that first Easter morning: ‘He is not here: for he is risen” (Matthew 28:6).
God lives; He is our beloved Heavenly Father. I am very grateful to now understand a little more of what my Savior willingly did for me. He was wounded, bruised, and chastised. He suffered my pains, afflictions, and illnesses. He is my Savior. And I share this in His sweet name, the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Sometimes I have walked at dusk in the hills near my home. I watch the sun setting in the west over the lake and the shadows lengthening until the most familiar landmarks around me are gradually obscured in the darkness. I suddenly feel alone and a little unsure. But then a little miracle occurs. One by one the lights begin appearing—in the houses, along the streets—and even in the surrounding darkness, I regain my sense of direction. Reassured and cheered by their brightness, I make my way safely home.

“Will you conduct the flag ceremony at the Blue and Gold Banquet, Kevin?” asked Sister Sandberg, the Cub Scout den leader.
Kevin chewed on his lower lip and lowered his gaze. “I—I d-d-don’t kn-know.”
Someone snickered. Kevin studied his shoelaces miserably, wishing that he could sink into the floor.
“That’s all right,” she said quickly. “You think about it and let me know at our next meeting.”
Kevin nodded.
“Let’s start making our invitations,” Sister Sandberg said. She handed out construction paper, scissors, and markers.
When Kevin got home that evening, he told his parents about the den leader’s request. “I d-don’t think I c-c-can do it,” he said.
His parents exchanged concerned glances. “I think Sister Sandberg’s suggestion to think about it this week is a good one,” Father said at last. “We’ll be happy with whatever you choose.”
Kevin did little else but think about it. He wanted to lead the flag ceremony. He loved hearing the Pledge of Allegiance. He could even say it—if he was by himself and taking his time. But he couldn’t lead a big group of people in saying it, could he?
During that week, Kevin prayed about it every night. The answer he received was clear: You can do it.
At the next den meeting, he told Sister Sandberg that he wanted to lead the flag ceremony.
“Good!” she gave him a quick hug. “I’m proud of your decision, Kevin.”
Kevin spent every moment he could practicing. He also asked his speech therapist at school to help him. They went over the words slowly and carefully until he felt confident saying them. By the night of the Blue and Gold Banquet, Kevin figured he had rehearsed at least a zillion times. He smiled, thinking that he could probably say the Pledge of Allegiance backward. Now, if only I can say it without stuttering, he told himself. That’s all that matters.
He knelt by his bed and prayed once more. When he rose from his knees, a warm feeling settled in his heart. He could do it! He knew he could! Heavenly Father wouldn’t let him down. He was smiling as he ran down the stairs.
“Are you ready to go, M-Mom?” he asked. “I d-don’t want to b-be late.”
His mother looked up from where she was helping his little sister zip up her coat. “You look happy.”
“I am,” he said. “T-Tonight is going to be awesome!”
“Just remember to take your time,” Mother said while straightening the yellow kerchief around his neck. “It doesn’t matter if you have to start over.”
“I won’t have to,” Kevin predicted. “I’ve p-prayed about it, and I’m sure that everything’s g-going to be all right.”
Kevin’s father walked into the kitchen. He hugged Kevin. “Good luck, son. We love you.”
“I know.” Kevin returned the hug, then hugged his mother and sister.
He didn’t eat much of the dinner at the banquet, even though he usually liked hot dogs and potato salad. He kept thinking about his part in the program. The warm feeling he’d received after his prayer had stayed with him.
Then the dinner was over, and the Cubmaster introduced Kevin and sat down.
Kevin stood and walked slowly to the stand. He wiped his wet palms against his pants. “W-Will …” He looked out at the audience with horrified eyes. He took a deep breath and started again. “W-W-Will …”
He saw his mother clasp her hands tightly in her lap. He knew she was silently praying for him. He tried again, and again the words stuck to his lips, refusing to come out. Why did it have to happen now? He’d worked so hard, practiced so long! In his prayer, he’d had a strong feeling that everything would be all right. And now he was stuttering worse than ever!
Eric got up and started forward, followed by David and Hyrum. Soon all the Cub Scouts except those carrying the flag were standing beside Kevin.
Eric slipped his arm around Kevin’s shoulders. “It’s all right,” he whispered.
Kevin cleared his throat. “W-Will the audience p-please stand?” He paused while the color guard posted the colors. “P-Please repeat the Pledge of Allegiance.”
The audience started reciting the words. “I pledge allegiance to the flag …”
Kevin faltered once or twice, but his friends were there, encouraging him. When he took his seat, Sister Sandberg gave his shoulder a squeeze and smiled at him. He smiled back at her.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. He’d done it! He’d stood before a group of people and led them in the Pledge of Allegiance.
Before climbing into bed that night, Kevin knelt beside it and folded his arms. His prayer had been answered—not in the way he’d prayed for, but in a very special way, and he was eager to thank Heavenly Father for helping him.

The bump in the freeway wasn’t supposed to be there. At least that was my big brother’s excuse. Andy might have been driving a little too fast, if you ask me.
“I hope Lehi’s ship is tied tight,” I grunted as our truck sailed over the bump.
“No problem, sis,” said Andy.
But just then, Lehi’s ship broke loose and sailed out of the back of our truck.
“Our ship is sunk!” yelled my seven-year-old brother, Tony, who is never without words.
“There goes the main prop for our Primary play,” I moaned to myself.
Cars screeched. I scrunched down between my brothers, waiting for a crash, but it never came. All the screeching tires behind us stopped before running into the prop or each other.
Andy steered our truck to the side of the road. “How could this happen?” he groaned as he stumbled out of the truck. Tony leaped out too. I stayed scrunched in my seat, not wanting to see our once-beautiful ship.
“Wow, will you look at this!” cried Tony. “Lisa, come look.”
I slid out. There, spread over all three lanes of the freeway, was the ship we had lovingly worked on for weeks.
“It isn’t all broken,” said Tony. “Maybe we could put it back together.”
“No way,” I said with a scowl. “The play starts in four hours.”
“I bet there’s a way. If I had a hammer, I could do it,” Tony argued.
Cars were lining up behind Lehi’s ship faster than we lined up for lunch at school. High in the sky, I could see a traffic report helicopter. I could hear a nearby car radio blaring, “I’ve never seen anything like this before, but it looks like an old sailing ship has washed ashore on the west freeway. It’s blocking all northbound lanes.”
Cars were honking. People were leaping out of their cars and marching toward us. I was so embarrassed that I wanted to hide.
A young man in a white uniform was the first to reach us. “It looks like you left your ship behind, too,” he drawled. “I left mine over in the Navy yard. I didn’t think I’d be running into another ship quite so soon.”
“Are you in the Navy?” exclaimed Tony.
“Sure am, son.”
A big man who looked like one of those football players Dad watches on TV ran up beside us. “That thing really went flying. I’m glad it didn’t hit me.” He motioned to Andy. “Look, if you’ll pull your truck right around here, I think a few of us can load it for you.”
Another man was peering dumbfoundedly at the wreckage through his thick glasses. “What is this thing, anyway?”
“It’s Lehi’s ship,” piped up Tony.
Oh no! I thought. I hoped Tony wasn’t going to give his Book of Mormon discourse right here on the freeway.
The young sailor scratched his short-cropped red hair. “Lehi’s ship?” he said thoughtfully. “It seems like I’ve heard of that somewhere before.”
“It’s from the Book of Mormon,” answered Tony.
“That’s it!” The sailor snapped his fingers. “Isn’t he the guy who sailed across the ocean with a bunch of sons who were always fighting?”
“Yeah, that’s kind of how the story goes,” said Tony.
“I knew it!” said the young man. “One of my shipmates told me the whole story. He gave me that book to read.”
I didn’t say a word.
By the time Andy pulled his truck up beside our broken ship, the crowd had heard practically the entire Book of Mormon—both Tony’s version and the sailor’s version.
At least a dozen people crowded around to help hoist the prop back into the truck. Tony bounded into the back of it. “Up this way a little,” he directed.
I stood there with a long face. One man looked down at me as he held the ship. “It’s tough luck about your ship. I heard your play is supposed to start—”
Everyone stopped talking and even moving. Wailing down the other side of the freeway were flashing red and blue lights. Two highway patrol cars crossed the median strip, then swung around to where we were. It was the only way they could reach us. Officers from the cars jumped out. One of them scowled as he approached the group surrounding the ship. He seemed oblivious to the fact that they were holding the biggest section of the ship in midair. “Who owns this truck?” he snapped.
“I do,” Andy said glumly.
I felt a little bit sorry for him.
“Young man, do you know what time of day it is?” asked the officer.
“Yes, sir. It’s rush hour.”
I avoided looking at Andy by watching the officer’s thick mustache twitch up and down as he spoke.
“Do you know that you have traffic backed up for over two miles down the freeway?”
“This is no time for a lecture, Jerry,” said another highway patrolman. “They need help.”
The first officer looked around, then nodded, his scowl lessening. With the help of the highway patrol officers, Lehi’s ship was quickly lifted back into the truck. Everyone, including me, scurried across the lanes, retrieving the rest of the wreckage.
Suddenly a short, wiry man trotted up beside me. “My car is trapped way back there,” he panted. “I just heard on the traffic report that you Mormons were having a big play tonight but that your ship got smashed on the freeway. I just wanted to tell you that I’m a carpenter and, well, maybe I could help. I don’t live too far from your church, and I could get my tools. …”
“That’s very kind,” I said, embarrassed by all the attention. “But we’ve already caused you—”
“I think that would be great!” Tony interrupted.
“Terrific! I’ll come over as soon as I get home.” The carpenter waved as he trotted back to his car.
Finally Andy, Tony, and I climbed back into the truck. Andy turned the key in the ignition. The word Mormon jumped out at us from the radio.
“Those Mormons are supposed to be performing tonight,” said the traffic reporter, “but I think they’ve put on a bigger show this afternoon on the freeway.”
I slunk down in my seat, and Andy groaned. Tony gloated, “Hear that! We’re famous.”
When we turned into the church parking lot, Lehi’s ship was not the only thing trailing close behind us. Car after car turned into the parking lot. The big burly man came. The redheaded sailor came. Even the highway patrol officer with the mustache followed us. The parking lot was filling up with our friends from the freeway. When the carpenter arrived, everyone began hammering as fast as they could.
When it was time for the curtain to go up, Lehi’s ship still wasn’t quite finished. “Don’t worry,” said the sailor. “I wouldn’t want to miss sailing across the ocean with Lehi.” He got up on top and held a big timber in place.
The big burly man and the highway patrol officer steadied both ends of the ship, and the carpenter played a Nephite still at work.
When the play was over and the curtain was coming down, the applause was very loud. I peeked through the curtains. Never had I seen the cultural hall so crowded! People I’d never seen before were lining the walls and peeking through the doorways.
Suddenly someone crawled under the curtain and faced the audience. It was Tony! “Please clap real loud for the people on the freeway. They helped us put Lehi’s ship back together again.”
This time the crowd stood up and clapped for a long time. Tony grinned at me, and I wasn’t even embarrassed.
Afterward, instead of leaving, people rushed up to the stage. “Can you tell me more about that story?” they asked.
I noticed one lady tug on the sleeve of the redheaded sailor. “Do you know where I could get a copy of that book—what’s it called?”
“Why, sure!” exclaimed the sailor. “It’s called the Book of Mormon. It’s wonderful. I happen to be reading it now, myself. Let me tell you more about it.”
“We’d both be glad to tell you all about it,” Tony chimed in.

The cool evening air felt good on my face as my companion and I were frantically riding our bicycles back to our apartment to make it home on time. The May weather had been typical for Texas, hot and humid, so the crisp evening air was a welcome feeling.
I began thinking of the success we were enjoying in the city of Brownsville. A family of five was baptized last month and another family of five was to be baptized this month. Suddenly that warm, familiar, and welcome feeling came over me, and I was prompted to look back. Through the trees I saw a row of houses a little way off the road—houses I had never noticed before!
When we reached the apartment I told my companion, Elder Maughn, that we needed to go back to those houses in the morning and meet a few people. Then we planned our activities for the next day and went to bed. I could hardly sleep for the excitement of that day. We had challenged a family to be baptized, and they accepted, and now it seemed that the Lord had more people for us to teach.
The morning came not too soon for me. After a shower, breakfast, and study class, we headed out for the houses I had noticed the last night. It was easy to see why we had missed them before. Somehow between the junkyard and bushes and the low-hanging trees, there was a road. Actually, it was more like an alley. It was so rough that we could hardly get our bikes down it.
There were about seven houses down this road, so we began at the first and worked our way to the last. Yes, number six was the house. We knocked at the door, and a woman answered. Her face radiated with a warm, kind, and protective glow. We introduced ourselves and said we had a brief message about the Lord. She invited us into a small, two-room house.
As we entered the living room, we were greeted by no less than five children, ages ranging from eleven down to two. The children giggled as we spoke to them. We told her we would like to return when the father was home, and she invited us back that evening.
The rest of the day my head was spinning with thoughts of how we would teach the family. We knew with the Lord’s help and consent we would help this family become members of his church.
Somewhere between banging on doors and lunch a fearful thought came over me. Tithing! Reflecting back about that family we visited earlier that morning, I wondered how they would accept the principle of tithing. I thought of that family of seven and their home, which apparently had only the bare necessities. The kitchen had just a table and benches in it. The other room, which was divided in half and separated only by a curtain, was both the bedroom and the living room. The only furniture in this room was one chair and a tattered couch. How would this family be able to budget tithing?
Paying an honest tithe seemed to be a stumbling block to some of the people we had taught before, and I worried about this all day. Silently I prayed that this family would gain a strong testimony before we were to teach the principle of tithing to them.
Again the cool evening air felt good on my face as we rode back to that home to meet the father and begin teaching his family. The father held as many of the children as he could, and the others huddled close by. We felt a warm, familiar feeling as we visited with them and explained our message about the Lord’s true church.
After a brief prayer we started with the filmstrip Man’s Search for Happiness. It would keep the children interested, and parents always seemed to enjoy it. I glanced over at the mother during the part about leaving the pre-mortal existence, and I thought I saw traces of tears in her eyes. I couldn’t help but again glance over at her during the part about death and our spirit returning home to loved ones. Yes, this time it was plainly clear. That sweet mother had tears in her eyes and half way down her face.
The mother was still wiping away the tears when the film ended, so I quickly bore my testimony to the truthfulness of the concepts taught in the film and the truthfulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ. We then proceeded into the rest of the discussion. It was accepted well, very well. After arranging another appointment for the next night, we offered prayer and were on our way.
I noticed that there was no car in front of the house, and again I wondered how they would accept the principle of tithing.
When we reached our apartment, Elder Maughn and I knelt down and prayed. We prayed to our Heavenly Father to bless this family with a strong testimony and to provide a way that they could keep the commandments.
When we knelt for personal prayer I stayed on my knees a little longer than usual before climbing into bed. When the time came, how could we present the commandment of tithing so the Spirit would touch them with a testimony and a desire to keep it?
The family was progressing well. Every lesson was a spiritual experience for all of us. Members visited them and took them to church. Finally the challenge was given to be baptized, and they accepted.
The next step was the lesson on the commandments. I cleverly arranged it so my companion would present the concept on tithing. Yes, I would give the first concept, he the second which was tithing, then I would continue with the third and so on. This way I wouldn’t have to ask the family to keep the law of tithing and wonder about their answer.
That moment seemed to come all too soon. When we entered the home that evening and settled down for the lesson I began the discussion with the first concept. Before I had completed two sentences the father eagerly asked a question, and my companion answered it and continued on with my concept! He then finished the first concept, and now it was my turn—tithing! I said a quick silent prayer and proceeded with confidence.
I explained what the word tithe meant, how it was a commandment anciently and now also in our day. Then I came to the part I dreaded—to ask the family to keep the law of tithing. This fine brother answered back, but I was so worried that I didn’t hear the answer. I hurriedly continued on with the concept and then realized he had answered yes! I was then at the part where the question was to be repeated so I confidently asked again, “Will you keep the law of tithing?”
Again the answer was yes. I then bore my testimony with tears in my eyes that it was a true commandment and that many blessings would follow.
That following Sunday, just a week before the family was to be baptized, I looked eagerly for them. When Sunday School began, the family was not there. I didn’t see them anywhere. Perhaps they had decided they couldn’t keep the commandments after all, I thought to myself. I wondered if the problem was tithing.
Then just before sacrament meeting started, in through the front doors walked the family. I hurried to greet them. I had a smile on my face from ear to ear I’m sure. They explained that they had walked all the way, at least four miles I think, and the father carried two of the little ones.
We sat down in time for the meeting to start, and all I could think about was this family. What an example to me. I loved them already, and I had only known them for three weeks.
After sacrament the mother took me aside and said, “Here, Elder Myers. Here’s ten dollars. My husband gets paid every two weeks, and we wanted to start paying tithing now.” I stood there for what seemed like an eternity and just looked at the mother, with sincerity and humbleness written all over her face. I looked at the ten dollars. Her husband made two hundred dollars a month, and they were willing to keep the law of tithing. What a faithful family.
I guess I hesitated too long, for the mother said, “Isn’t it enough?” I quickly turned my head for tears began to fill my eyes. I found the second counselor in the bishopric and asked him to explain to this good sister about filling out the tithing slip.
As he explained the process to her, I slipped away to an empty room. I tried to hold back the tears, but “Here, Elder Myers” kept ringing in my ears. I thanked my Father in Heaven for this great opportunity and the testimony he had given to this family.
That following week the family was baptized.
Even now that I have returned home from my mission and have continued on with my life, I still think of this wonderful family and the great lesson they taught me about tithing. Every time I pay tithing I can still hear those words from that sweet sister, “Here, Elder Myers. Isn’t it enough?”

Danny Cope maneuvers his motorized wheelchair with the skill of a parking attendant. He can’t move his arms or fingers very well, but he prods the control stick mounted on his armrest with his fist. Danny’s wheelchair has seen a lot of action. As a deacon in the Oakridge Ward in the El Dorado California Stake, he uses it to fulfill his Aaronic Priesthood duties.
The wheelchair takes him to collect fast offerings and to quorum and Scout activities. His dad even made a special sacrament tray attachment so Danny can pass the sacrament with the other deacons. Since he isn’t able to lift the tray himself, the ward member nearest to the aisle helps him. Cerebral palsy might limit him physically, but mentally and spiritually he keeps moving.

This past summer a brief article I had written appeared in the Liahona and Ensign. My son emailed me saying, “Dad, maybe you could tell us when you have an article coming out.” I responded, “I just wanted to see if you were reading the Church magazines.” He wrote back explaining that his 10-year-old daughter had “passed the test. She got the Ensign from the mailbox, came into the house, and read it. Then she came up to our room and showed us your article.”
My granddaughter read the Ensign because she wanted to learn. She acted on her own by exercising her agency. The First Presidency recently approved new learning resources for youth that will support the innate desire of young people to learn, live, and share the gospel. These new resources are now available for review online. In January we will begin using them in classrooms. (Learn more about the new learning resources for youth at lds.org/youth/learn.)

After my parents were divorced, it was a hard time in my life. Going to church usually made me feel better, but it hurt me to hear talks on families because I didn’t believe I had one.
My mother was less active and remarried. My father was an atheist and lived with another woman. Both of them had children with their new partners, and I felt like a weight—an error—as if I didn’t count for anything.
So I began to pray, read the scriptures, and meditate, and I tried to keep going to church. But I couldn’t help but wonder: What would I do in the next life without my family sealed in the temple?
The answers didn’t come right away, but they did come. I looked up the definition of family and read scripture verses on the subject, and I started seeing the brighter side of things. Instead of thinking that I didn’t have a family, I learned that I could help bring God’s children into the Church as a missionary. I learned to exercise patience and to be a light. I tried to better myself. I also realized that without a family like mine, I may not have developed the faith that I have, and I wouldn’t value the law of chastity and the plan of salvation as I do now.
I’ve come to understand that I do have a family. It has been hard, but I don’t worry about what will happen to my family after death. I trust in God, and He knows why we aren’t sealed for the time being. He knows how much I love them and what’s best for me. We can’t understand everything, so it’s important to have faith in God to sustain us and help us know that everything will turn out OK.
I am thankful for my new and larger family, and I have faith that one day we can be found all together at the temple. I know God loves me and that He loves everyone, and I know that if I do His will, one day I’ll return to Him with my family.

This story happened in the USA.
Zack likes to run, jump, and play. Zack also has sensory processing disorder.
For Zack, that means he doesn’t like loud noises. And he likes to do the same things every day.
Every afternoon he plays with the same toy airplane.
Every night he reads the same bedtime story.
And every Sunday he sits in the same chair during Primary.
One day at church, all the kids practiced for the Primary program in the chapel. This was very different!
Zack doesn’t like it when things are different.
Mom had him stand in the front row so he had room to wiggle.
His friend stood next to him to help him feel better.
His teacher gave him headphones to make everything quieter. But Zack was still upset.
Then the music director and the Primary president had an idea.
Zack’s special job was just right for him! He was happy to feel Heavenly Father’s love.
Illustrations by Natalie Briscoe

Illustrations by Bradley H. Clark
One of the most challenging experiences of my life happened shortly after the passing of our 10-year-old daughter from brain cancer. The saying “You can’t take it with you” came with clarity as we looked around her room one Saturday afternoon.
Clarissa was gone, but her room still held the identifiable remnants of her earthly stay. We now had the daunting task of deciding what to do with her personal belongings. I knew that parting with a single item would not be easy, especially for my wife.
Dealing with the whirlwind of details associated with hospitals, chemotherapy, and radiation had left us little time to clean and organize.
Memories came as we packed up items she’d arranged on her headboard or bookshelf. They all held heartfelt meaning—from her favorite blanket, book, or necklace to her stuffed animals, schoolbooks, and football. My wife sobbed as we asked what to do with each item.
We gathered many of Clarissa’s books and took them to her elementary school for other children to enjoy. We gave her dresser to a neighbor. Some of her clothes went to cousins. Focusing on others helped make the difficult situation of parting with her things a little easier.
Several weeks later, as Christmas approached, my two teenage daughters asked their mother if they could use some of Clarissa’s clothes to make a special Christmas gift. They selected each article of clothing for its intrinsic family memory and carefully cut squares to represent precious moments in her life.
A few days before Christmas, they and their Young Women leader, who had helped them come up with the idea, showed me a quilt they were making. I looked in astonishment at each square of fabric, which represented an event in Clarissa’s life: a square from her football uniform, a square from the shirt we bought her on a family trip, a square from the pajama pants she wore at the hospital. Each piece, so precious and beautiful, reminded me of our time with her. I told my daughters it was perfect. I knew their mother would love it.
That Christmas morning I saw a gift given from the heart. I will always remember my wife’s expression when she opened her gift and saw what her daughters had made for her. Each night since then she has wrapped her Christmas quilt around her, recalling memories and dreaming of the day our family will be united again—thanks to the Atonement and Resurrection of Jesus Christ.

For most of my life, I considered myself an atheist. I wasn’t sure what I wanted out of life or what the point of it was, but I was happy enough.
But when I started going to college, I hit some bumps in the road. I wasn’t making the best decisions. I felt lost. A few years later, I reconnected with a few friends who were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I’d grown up with them and had always enjoyed their company, but I’d never felt like their way of living was for me.
When we caught each other up on our lives, all I saw was joy in their countenances. They had both gotten married and had kids, they had careers that were taking off, and most of all, they seemed to radiate goodness.
When I compared my life to theirs, I realized that my trajectory was way off. I was heading down a path I didn’t want to go down. I wanted life to have meaning, and I didn’t want to chase things that wouldn’t bring me happiness in the long run.
For the first time, I felt like something was missing in my life.
And I was pretty sure these friends had the missing piece.
As I started hanging out with these friends again, I realized that they weren’t finding joy and success just because they were members of the Church. But my friends’ sense of purpose in life and motivation to continue progressing was amazing. They were so loving and driven and had this endless energy. I didn’t understand what was making them live like this.
Eventually, though, I realized their zest for life came from following the basic principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ. So I started asking questions, and my friends encouraged me to learn more.
As I learned about the gospel, it was strange at first. I didn’t have any spiritual beliefs to build on, but the truths of the gospel just started to click for me. I felt like life finally had purpose.
President Russell M. Nelson recently said: “My decision to follow Jesus Christ is the most important decision I have ever made. … That choice has made all the difference! That decision has made so many other decisions easier. That decision has given me purpose and direction. It has also helped me weather the storms of life.”
I’ve felt the same as I’ve chosen to follow Jesus Christ and get baptized.
Since joining the Church, my circumstances haven’t changed a ton. I still have a lot to figure out, but my overall feelings about life are completely different than they used to be.
Learning about the Savior, knowing my divine identity, and realizing we aren’t alone on this journey has helped me feel that same sense of peace and drive that my friends always have.
I have so much trust in our Heavenly Father, and I hold on to the idea that no matter what happens, He has my back. As I keep my covenants and strive to better align with my divine identity, I know He will be with me every step of the way. And if He is with me, I have nothing to fear.
President Nelson also testified: “Entering into a covenant relationship with God binds us to Him in a way that makes everything about life easier. Please do not misunderstand me: I did not say that making covenants makes life easy. In fact, expect opposition, because the adversary does not want you to discover the power of Jesus Christ. But yoking yourself with the Savior means you have access to His strength and redeeming power.”
I think that’s what living the gospel is all about. The gospel doesn’t make life easy, but it helps us create the earthly and eternal life God wants for us.
Despite unanswered questions, fear about the future, and setbacks, I see how the gospel gives us the guidelines we need to live the best life we can.

The blessings of tithing come in many ways. In 1998 I accompanied then-Elder Henry B. Eyring to a large Church meeting in the Utah area now known as Silicon Slopes, a community of great innovation in technology. It was a time of growing prosperity, and Elder Eyring cautioned the Saints about comparing what they had with others and wanting more. I will always remember his promise that as they paid an honest tithe, their desire for more material possessions would diminish. Within two years, the technology bubble burst. Many lost their jobs, and companies struggled during this time of financial adjustment. Those who followed the counsel of Elder Eyring were blessed.

I was at Manti, Utah, some years ago. As we came out of the Saturday night leadership meeting, there was a heavy snowstorm. As we drove to the home of the stake president, he stopped his car and turned back to the temple hill. There the lighted temple was standing majestically. We sat there in silence for a few moments, inspired by the sight of that beautiful, sacred place. He said, “You know, Brother Lee, that temple is never more beautiful than in times of a dense fog or in times of a heavy, severe storm.”

Just so, never is the gospel of Jesus Christ more beautiful than in times of intense need, or in times of a severe storm within us as individuals, or in times of confusion and turmoil.

The young women in the Salt Lake Eagle Gate Stake’s 18th North Ward have a unique way of doing work for the dead. Many of them have done the conventional things lots of teenagers do: finding names, doing baptisms at the nearby Salt Lake Temple, and keeping records of their own lives to pass on to future generations. But this activity has been a little different.
The Salt Lake City Cemetery is within walking distance of the girls’ homes, and they have spent many hours there, working to revive the memory of a woman who seems to have been nearly forgotten. The headstone at the grave was never very large, and after more than a hundred years of cold winter storms and summer heat waves, it was crumbling, the name completely worn off.
The girls took some time to learn about the woman buried there. Her name was Sarah Melissa Granger Kimball. She was a Relief Society president for 41 years in a ward near the girls’ homes and worked tirelessly as a wife, mother, and educator.
The girls decided that a woman who had contributed so much to the lives of women who were the early settlers of Utah deserved a little more recognition than the tired old headstone afforded her.
So they got to work. First, they listed the work that needed to be done and divided it into individual assignments. Crissy Renda was the group’s researcher. Rebecca Priggemeyer documented the group’s progress on film. The other girls helped in various aspects of selecting a new monument to mark the grave, and they each participated in keeping a journal about their feelings and insights during the project.
“I used to think of Relief Society as something for people old or boring,” says Elizabeth Clark. “But learning about Sarah, I realized that she was energetic and really dedicated to making women’s lives better. The way I feel about Relief Society has really changed.”
It isn’t every day the Relief Society general presidency, the general board, and a representative of the Young Women presidency show up to a Young Women activity. But this was no ordinary activity.
When the time came to place the headstone, the Young Women wanted to do something special. They had spent countless hours researching Sarah’s life, and they wanted to pay tribute to Sarah for what they had learned from her.
“I am so grateful for everything that Sarah has done for the women of the Church,” Crissy says. “By researching her life, I have come to feel a closeness to her.”
Many of Sarah’s accomplishments are listed on the back of the monument the Young Women erected. At age 15, Sarah was invited to be educated with the School of the Prophets. She founded the Ladies Society of Nauvoo. She helped build the first Relief Society hall and Relief Society granary. She served as the first president of the Utah Women’s Suffrage Association, where she was a strong voice in the campaign to give women the right to vote. She also served in the general Relief Society presidency for 12 years.
As these young women did this unique work for the dead, they discovered that their work was a fulfillment of prophecy. Sarah was promised by Joseph Smith that because of her devotion she would be remembered from generation to generation.* As the young women uncovered stories about Sarah, they learned of her dedication to the Church. They believe the stories of her dedication will shape their lives and keep the memory of Sarah alive.

Trent and Carley each tried to be like Jesus Christ at a school carnival.
Carley played a game at the carnival in which if you threw a ball into a certain cup, you won a fish. She won “seven or a lot of fishes.” Another boy, about six years old, won only one fish, and he dropped it. Carley gave him one of hers “because it was the right thing to do.” The boy was very happy, which made Carley feel very good.

A few weeks after Kayson left on his mission, my stake president visited me. I caught him up on what had happened during those weeks after my brothers had talked with me. I said I would like to get a new temple recommend. He asked if I could answer the recommend questions properly. I confessed, “President, I don’t think I can say I know that the Church is true yet, but I sure hope with all my heart that it is. And I am going to live my life in accordance with that hope. Is that enough?”
He paused for a moment then said, “Travis, that will always be enough.”

When it was announced in 2002 that missionary work would become the responsibility of the bishops, I marveled. I’d been one. It seemed to me they were already carrying a load close to their limits in ministering to the members and directing the organizations in the ward.

One bishop I knew saw it not as an added duty but as an opportunity to draw the ward together in a great cause where every member became a missionary. He called a ward mission leader. He met with the missionaries himself every Saturday to learn about their work, to encourage them, and to learn about the progress of their investigators. The ward council found ways for organizations and quorums to use service experiences as missionary preparation. And as a judge in Israel, he helped young people feel the blessings of the Atonement to keep them pure.

Recently I asked how he explained the surge of convert baptisms in his ward and the increase in the number of young people ready and eager to take the gospel of Jesus Christ out to the world. He said it seemed to him that it was not so much the duty anyone performed but the way they all became one in their enthusiasm to bring people into the community of Saints that had brought them such happiness.