Gospel Story Finder

What Kind of Baby-Sitter Is This? by Dolores Johnson Kevin was sure this new baby-sitter would be like all the rest—“painting her toenails, talking on the telephone, and eating the good stuff in the refrigerator.” He begged his mother to take him with her, even though the sitter said that they’d be “just fine.” And they were—Lovey Pritchard was a very different kind of baby-sitter!

The Young Men and Young Women of the Terreton 2nd Ward, Roberts Idaho Stake, collected and made toys for children in Acuna, Mexico.
The Young Women crocheted the clothing for 32 dolls. The Young Men made trucks, slingshots, and sets of blocks. A missionary couple from the Terreton 2nd Ward had been working with the people in this area of Mexico. The couple suggested the service project to the young people, who met the challenge with enthusiasm.

In subsequent travel, President Nelson met with members, missionaries, leaders, and friends of the Church in western, central, and eastern Canada; Seattle, Washington, USA; and the Dominican Republic—where he spoke at length in Spanish, the first time a Church President has given an extended discourse in a language other than English.

Just like the friendships formed, those kinds of experiences can stay with you for years. Amy Hill, 18, of the Taylorsville Utah Central Stake, remembers when she was in her stake’s performance of the Book-of-Mormon-based A Day, a Night, and a Day. Amy was a ninth grader and had only a small nonspeaking part. But she has vivid memories of “acting out the Book of Mormon, thinking, Wow! this is so cool. This is how it would have felt.” Would she do it again? “I’d definitely recommend that kind of experience. I miss it sometimes.”

When I attended the dedication of Brigham Young University’s Monte L. Bean Life Sciences Museum, Brother Bean said, “All that we have is the Lord’s. We are his stewards, and anything that he wants of me or that the leaders of the Church want of me, I am prepared to give.” What a great spirit we would have if we would realize that all that we have to administer, all that we call our own, is the Lord’s, and we have the responsibility to do it the way he would have it done.

Conference Center Organ Unique in Own Right
Aside from the buildings’ sizes, one of the most notable differences between the Tabernacle and the Conference Center for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir is in the two organs.
The Tabernacle organ is famous for its history, sound, and size—on most lists it is ranked among the 15 largest organs in the world with more than 11,600 pipes in 206 ranks.
While the Conference Center organ is not among the largest in the world (7,667 pipes in 130 ranks), it is still a commanding instrument. In order to fill the enormous Conference Center auditorium, many of the instrument’s pipes use higher than usual wind pressure, provided by six blowers totalling 38 horsepower, to power its notes. It is one of only a few organs in the world to have two stops that descend into the ground-shaking 64-foot range, reaching GGGGG# (roughly an octave below the range of a grand piano). And its five-manual (or keyboard) console puts it in an unusual class.
“There aren’t many five-manual organs built,” says Clay Christiansen, Tabernacle organist. “And in our lifetime, there hasn’t been an organ built with so grand a bass section as this instrument. It’s a remarkable instrument.”
The creation of the organ was a seven-year project from conceptualization to the final “voicing” (or acoustical testing) of each pipe in the auditorium. Installation of the thousands of pipes was a three-year process by itself, one that wasn’t completed until 2003, well after the first general conference held in the building in April 2000. During that conference, the choir was accompanied by an electronic organ.
“During that first conference, the only pipes installed were the ones you can see,” says John Longhurst, Tabernacle organist. “That’s about 170 out of the 7,700.”
The organ’s builder, Schoenstein & Co., obtained some components of the organ from firms across the United States and around the world, from places as far-flung as Ohio, Illinois, Pennsylvania, Washington, California, Germany, and England.
“An organ builder is like a general contractor,” says Brother Longhurst. “You build what you can and outsource what you can’t. Because of the scope of the Conference Center project, more firms were used to help meet deadlines than is typical.”
But the organ was worth the work and the wait.
“To anyone who sees it, it makes a statement,” says Brother Christiansen. “Aurally, it does the same.”

When the young women of the Rose Park Second Ward in Salt Lake City, Utah, got tired of putting up with a skimpy selection of formal dresses, they took matters—and the dresses—into their own hands. Spending an evening at a local dress shop owned by Beehive Elise Carnahan’s grandmother, the young women drew the line for modesty by trying on a new line of formal dresses.
Amid the bustle of fittings and alterations, the young women learned some practical ways to make dresses modest.
“I had a cute black dress, and we added a bolero jacket that covered my back and shoulders,” said Laurel Leslie Abalos. “The jacket made the dress a beautiful, modest option. We didn’t even have to alter the gown.”
For Elise, the alterations were a little more extensive, but the result was just as rewarding. With the help and expertise of her grandmother, Elise constructed sleeves for her dress. “When you’re modest,” she said, “you can focus on what matters: how you act. I want to enter the temple one day, so I need to prepare now for that day. One of the ways I do that is by dressing modestly.”
Eager to share their new modest formals and show others how easy it is to be modest, the young women’s next step was to put on a fashion show. After a flurry of distributing flyers, making announcements, decorating, and preparing refreshments, the young women were ready to share the confidence and joy they found in being modest.
Yanyn Flores, a Mia Maid with Down syndrome, spoke through her actions at the fashion show. Her participation showed everyone how modesty is important to her.
Alyssa Reed, a Laurel, also told why participating in the show and modeling modesty was important. “Modesty shows respect for your body as a temple. You also respect the people around you, the gifts you are given, and Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.”
Mia Maid Kiko Makaya adds, “I want to set a good example to those around me by dressing modestly.”
And for Beehive Jonni Klus, modesty is a way of staying true to herself. “Modesty shows that you are happy with just being you.”
The fashion show was a packed event and a great success. Many more young women mentioned how dressing modestly helps them to be confident and focus on who they are rather than what they wear. Young Women leader Desirae Carnhahan was happy to see how the fashion show blessed their lives. “Our girls now know that modest additions are worth the extra effort,” she said.

And my dear friends Relief Society President Barbara Winder and Young Women President Ardeth Kapp are real heroines. When Sister Kapp was a young girl, like many of you, she struggled with her schoolwork. Later she graduated with honors and earned advanced degrees. And when Sister Winder was your age, like many of you, she worried because her parents were not active in the Church. Now they’ve been sealed in the temple. Just like you and me, Sister Kapp and Sister Winder still have things they worry about and struggle with. They know that things don’t always turn out the way we want, but that our Heavenly Father will always help us if we do our best and are obedient. Then we will have what is best for us. They have prepared themselves. They follow the Savior, and they follow the prophet, and by doing so, they have learned what God’s plan is for them, and they are faithfully trying to follow that plan.

It’s a similar story for Hope Riner, an 8-year-old in the same ward. She benefited from the good example of her 17-year-old half-brother, Andrew Roberts. He joined the Church a little over a year ago and was recently ordained a priest, which meant he could baptize her. “I felt great about it, because we have a strong bond already,” Hope says. “I was glad my brother could use the priesthood to help me.”
“It was an incredible experience,” Andrew says. “I know I need to be an example to my sister, not only as a brother, but also as an example of the kind of young man she should have as friends and the kind of man she will marry one day. By my example, I’m preparing her to understand how the priesthood can bless her life.”

I have had the honor of working with the missionaries of the Church for over three decades, and I know that a great many of them were able to get through those first shaky minutes and hours and days of their mission because of their fathers or mothers. I remember one experience of a fine young man who spent his life on the ranch, just as his own father did. When the boy got into the mission field, it was all strange: too many people, not enough open spaces. He wanted badly to go home. Finally, the mission president had the young missionary call his father. The father listened patiently as his son said how homesick he was, and then the father spoke in terms that his son could understand, and as I heard about this, it brought a smile to my face. He said with firmness but love, “Son, you’re just going to have to ‘cowboy up.’” The boy knew exactly what that meant, and he is hanging on as the spirit of his mission begins to come. He knows his father will not give up on him.

I’m driving my husband to a chemo treatment. It’s midmorning in early September, and the road is so drenched in water and fog that the white line on the side of the road is almost invisible. Wind rocks the car, and my fingers hurt as they grip the wheel. In another life, just a few weeks ago, we’d never have left the house in a downpour like this. But we have a 10:00 a.m. appointment with a small bag of poison, and not going isn’t an option.

Ahead is a stretch of road that lies low in the valley. It collects the fog like a bowl, and the water pools on the freeway there. I’m terrified of hydroplaning, but just before we hit the dreaded spot, the fog lifts a little. My windshield wipers catch up with the water, and a calmness settles in my chest. The rain drenches us for the whole 25 miles, but we make it in one piece.

Later, when we are done and the sun is elbowing through gray clouds outside the treatment center, my husband, Jacob, tells me he wasn’t afraid as we drove.

That’s all fine. But he wasn’t the one behind the wheel.

Jacob doesn’t leave it there. “The Savior has control over the elements. He walked on the water and calmed the seas.”

My heart lifts at the thought: Jesus walking on water (see Matthew 14:22–33), Jesus rebuking the storm (see Matthew 8:23–27). “The Master of ocean and earth and skies.”2

Jacob’s voice is breathy and scratchy—a side effect of all the treatments. “I knew we were going to be OK. I could tell that you were nervous, though. I prayed, ‘I know Thou canst control this water. If it be Thy will, please lift the rain a little so she can see.’”

I remember the easing of the rain and the peace settling inside me.

This Mutual activity in the Torcy Ward, Paris France East Stake, was a total knockout. Of course there was no fighting or actual injury involved. The youth were only simulating injuries so they could learn about different first-aid techniques.

Two years before, when Jeanette and I were at girls’ camp, a testimony meeting was planned for the last night. When we were leaving our cabin for the bonfire, I told Jeanette, “When this night is over, I think I’ll know for sure the Church is true.” But even after testimony meeting I didn’t, not for sure. Not for sure—that was the problem.

That night after the meeting we told ghost stories. One of the older girls told about a story this German guy wrote. It was all about Christ coming back at the end of the world, but instead of saving everybody and taking them to heaven, he tells everyone the resurrection is called off—just a fake. Then everything starts falling apart and flying every which way. The whole universe comes apart at the seams. I had nightmares about that story. It still makes me shudder.

2. Prayerfully select specialists.
The Tanners were a new couple in the stake. No one was aware that he was a builder. Their expertise was crucial when setbacks developed. The manufacturer of the trusses wouldn’t assemble and deliver until three days after youth conference. Brother Tanner knew how to apply just the right pressure to get the trusses there on time. The plans for the barn/house were submitted with the standard load of 40 pounds per square foot, but the city said the structure had to have the barn specifications of 120 pounds per square foot. Five days before construction was to commence, Brother Tanner had to scrap the blueprints and completely redo the engineering, foundation, etc. He and another builder burned midnight oil to get the plans back to the city. Since no plans were approved, he couldn’t get the trusses. What a mess. It was a miracle to finally have everything approved and ready and be able to begin the projects. The Tanners started a new business and moved out of the stake soon after youth conference. They were there when we needed them most.

The first story is about someone I will call Ethan. He had recently started his job in a career he had longed for, and he wanted to make a good impression. He came early to work and stayed late. He picked up extra projects and did excellent work. He was well liked by many of his colleagues and was enjoying his job. One day at lunch with a couple of co-workers, he felt comfortable telling them he was gay. An awkward silence followed because no one knew how to respond. Ethan was disappointed by his colleagues’ cold response, and he felt hurt and rejected.

After that lunch meeting, things became increasingly awkward for Ethan at work. He began to feel vulnerable and less valued. He found himself excluded from large projects and social activities after work, and his productivity began to suffer because he felt he did not belong and was not wanted. After a few months he was let go because his boss felt he was not keeping up. Despite all the claims to the contrary, Ethan knew he had been fired for being gay.

His father was a fine man, but he was not a member of the Church when Howard was a boy. It was not until Howard was of deacon age and participating in the ward’s Boy Scout troop that he and his sister received permission to be baptized. Their father finally joined the Church himself in 1927 and was eventually sealed to his family.

Lucy was happy whenever Daddy was home. But she was sad when he had to go on business trips. When he came home, though, he always had a surprise for Lucy in his suitcase.
Once the surprise was a doll from Mexico with a red ruffled dress and a tiny red rose in its hair.
Once the surprise was a white fan with a pretty design from Japan. It folded and unfolded with a click.
Another time the surprise was a paper lei from Hawaii. Daddy said, “A lei means ‘hello’ and ‘good-bye’ and ‘I love you.’”
On his next trip, Daddy brought Lucy a shell from the ocean. It was chalky white and pink on the outside. The inside flashed bright green and purple when she turned it. “Put it next to your ear,” Daddy said, “and it will sound like the ocean.”
One day Daddy came home from a trip with two surprises. The first one was a tiny blue box to put things in. But the other surprise was even nicer: “I’m not going on any more trips,” Daddy said. “I’ll be here every night from now on.”
Lucy clapped her hands. “Hurray!” she shouted. “That’s the best surprise of all!”

Three weeks ago I was at a stake conference in the lovely little mountain community of Prescott, Arizona. Following the delightful events of that weekend, a sister silently slipped me a note as she and others came by to shake hands and say good-bye. With some hesitation I share a portion of it with you this morning. Please focus on the doctrine this sister teaches, not the participants in the exchange.
“Dear Elder Holland, thank you for the testimony you bore in this conference of the Savior and His love. Forty-one years ago I prayed earnestly to the Lord and told Him I wished I had lived on earth when the Apostles walked upon it, when there had been a true Church, and when Christ’s voice was still heard. Within a year of that prayer, Heavenly Father sent two LDS missionaries to me, and I found that all those hopes could be realized. Perhaps some hour when you are tired or troubled, this note will help you remember why hearing your voice and shaking your hand is so important to me and to millions just like me. Your sister in love and gratitude, Gloria Clements.”

For the past four years, Brandon R., 17, has been able to earn spending money and save for a mission all while doing something he loves: teaching piano lessons. “I love influencing others to enjoy the wonderful gift of making music,” Brandon says.
Brandon has been taking lessons himself since he was only two years old. He currently has students ranging from ages 6 to 15. He loves watching their progress as they learn to enjoy playing.
“When I started teaching one student,” Brandon says, “he would run away. But then he started liking it more and more.”
Now in his senior year, Brandon is seeking additional students so he can save money even faster for his mission.
Brandon believes that from teaching piano, his teaching techniques in other areas have improved. “I think, for example, it’s easier to teach my brother something in math or to teach somebody something in a class,” he says. “There’s no better way to improve your teaching skills than to practice.”

I went to see my bishop for a temple recommend interview with no special expectations. Temple recommend interviews are generally all the same. I was excited to have a chance to do baptisms in the Arizona Temple, and this was simply a mandatory part. I sat quietly in the bishop’s office and answered everything he asked. I could tell by his silence when I had answered the last question and looked up to watch him fill out my recommend.
After handing me my temple recommend, the bishop looked at me intently with a smile on his face and said, “Lynn, will you bear your testimony for me?” I was completely taken aback. No one had ever asked me to do that before, and I hadn’t volunteered in about six years. I didn’t like giving my testimony. The only things I knew to say were those words I had been taught in Primary. I took a breath. I began to say aloud all the things that I knew and believed. My words were simple and Primary-like, but as I said them I knew they were true and that was all that mattered. It felt so good.
As I finished and looked at the bishop’s smiling face, I smiled too. I realized how silly I had been not to bear my testimony. I had been missing out on the simple pleasure that bearing a testimony brings because I felt I didn’t have anything important to say and was fearful of what the congregation would think. When I left the bishop’s office, the calm that I had received from bearing my testimony was still with me. I remembered how strongly I had felt the truthfulness of the words as I said them. The experience had actually strengthened my beliefs. I had gone to see the bishop for a temple recommend, but I had left with much more than that.