Gospel Story Finder

Laura Jensen of Jerome, Idaho, is proving to be one of the girls to watch at the Idaho A2 State Track championships. As a sophomore, Laura took first place in the South-Central Idaho Cross-Country Conference, in the Cross-State championship, and in the district cross-country championship.
Laura reached one of the goals she set for herself when she won the 3.1 mile state championship race. She crossed the finish line 55 seconds ahead of her nearest competitor.
Laura is an honor student. She attends early-morning seminary and is first counselor in her Laurel class in the Jerome Idaho Third Ward.

Soon I’ll be celebrating the first anniversary of my baptism, thanks to the efforts of my neighbor Diane Novak who is ten.
Diane invited me to Primary at the Caribou Branch of the Church in the Houlton-Maine District of the Canada-Halifax Mission. Later I met with the missionaries and was baptized by Diane’s father in the swimming pool at Loring Air Force Base. Now I go to Mutual and take my nonmember brother and one of his friends with me.

One December we gathered together for a family meeting. We began by asking our 11-year-old son how he would feel if on his birthday we gave presents to everyone but him. He didn’t like that idea at all. We went on to ask if there is a holiday when we give gifts to others but not to the person whose birthday we are celebrating. It didn’t take the children long to realize we were talking about Christmas. We decided to start making Christmas more meaningful by giving gifts to Jesus Christ, whose birthday we are celebrating.
Our children wondered what they could give the Savior. We talked about what He desires of us. We discussed His Atonement and His desire for us to give up our sins and be obedient. We talked about how He wants us to give of ourselves by serving and sharing our talents.
That year, we had each family member write on slips of paper the gifts they planned to give the Savior and place the slips in a box. On Christmas morning, before we opened the other gifts, we had family prayer and shared with each other the gifts we were giving the Savior for the coming year.
As the years have come and gone, the tradition of giving gifts to Jesus Christ has helped our family focus on the real meaning of Christmas and on our love and gratitude for Him.
Scott and Angelle Anderson,Bluffdale Second Ward, Bluffdale Utah Stake

Years ago I learned a lesson about judging.
I was a city councilman in Brigham City and was also on the stake high council. Late one night I was returning home from a high council meeting, pondering on what had happened there.
There was a red light and a siren. I was given a ticket for going forty-five miles an hour in a thirty-mile-an-hour zone. I accepted the ticket without protest, for I had not been paying attention.
The city judge was always in his office very early, and I went to get the matter settled before going to teach seminary the next day.
The judge had recently made a request for some new furniture. It rested with me, as a councilman, to approve it and sign the voucher.
He looked at my ticket and smiled, saying, “There have, on occasions, been exceptions made.”
I told him that in view of my position he was obliged to treat me like any other citizen. Reluctantly he consented.
“The going rate is a dollar a mile. That will be fifteen dollars.”
I paid the fine.
Two nights later Councilman Bundy reported, in a meeting of the city council, that he had fired a policeman. When the mayor asked the cause, he was told, and I quote: “Well, he was always arresting the wrong people.”
Later Councilman Bundy explained that there had been vandalism in the city. Late at night someone had gone down Forest Street in a recreation vehicle and snapped off all the young trees. There had been damage in the cemetery also.
Where were the police? He found they were hiding behind signboards waiting for some unwary motorist.
Councilman Bundy had tried over a period of weeks to get them to patrol the city at night. One young officer just did not seem to learn, and so he had been dismissed.
Here then, was a man who gave a traffic ticket to a city councilman. Two days later he was dismissed. And the cause, stated in a city council meeting, with several delegations as witness: “He was always arresting the wrong people.”
Do you think he could be convinced that I did not cause him to be fired?
Had I known of it, I may have delayed or prevented his dismissal, just for appearances.
Appearances, however, convicted me of unworthy use of influence.

There is no dinner like a Christmas dinner in France. The food comes in courses, at least seven of them. And we had feasted on each course, from hors d’oeuvres to entrées to pièces de résistance. And to top it all off, dessert. Not some ordinary cake, pie, or pudding. Not even flaky pastry from the local patisserie. Sister Gournillon had made a bûche de Nöel.
To say a bûche de Nöel is a Christmas cake is to say the Eiffel Tower is some building in Paris. A bûche is the culinary crown of a French Christmas. It is composed of layers of butter frosting, cream custard, and light, white cake swirled together in the shape of a Yule log, from which it gets its name. Sister Gournillon had made hers herself and had even pushed a tiny plastic hatchet into the chocolate frosting.
“Nobody is going to say the branch president’s wife didn’t feed the missionaries well on Christmas,” she said. Nobody would.
It was thanks to the bûche, I guess, that I fell asleep on the couch. We had told President Gournillon that we could only stay a short time for Christmas dinner, and he understood. But when I sat down after such a huge meal, I must have dozed for a minute.
It didn’t take me long to wake up. The kids, all seven of them, were playing soldiers. Stephan, age 6, was the commandant. He was chasing Natalie, age 5, around the couch when she tripped and fell. Her forehead popped against my cheekbone just below my eye, hard. She was so startled she didn’t even cry. I was amazed at how fast my ruptured blood vessel produced swelling.
We left for home a few minutes later. By then, my eye was swollen so much I felt like a prize fighter.
“Oooh, Frère Romney, cette beurre noir va vous fair du mal,” Sister Gournillon said. (“This black eye’s going to hurt.”)
“I’ll live,” I said.
President Gournillon held Natalie up next to me so she could kiss it better. “Je suis triste (I’m sorry),” she said.
“Ca va, ça va (that’s okay),” I smiled. “Next time pick on someone your own size.”
When we got out to our bikes, I gathered up some snow and held it to my cheek. It felt better.
How does a missionary with a black eye go tracting? I wondered. The same as any other missionary: one door at a time. Some people gave me funny looks, as if they wondered who would punch a foreigner and why. One man even asked me if I had hit the other guy first. But the embarrassment really deepened when the zone leaders arrived for their visit.
“You know, Elder Romney, for a brand-new missionary you’ve really come out swinging,” Elder Zoelfelt said, grinning. “Just don’t think you’ve got to fight your way to the top.”
“I’d rather fight than switch,” I joked back. By now my black eye was purple and yellow—and all over the side of my face.
Elder Zoelfelt and I were assigned to go tracting together that day. I was a little intimidated to be out alone with a zone leader, but I wanted to do my best.
“You decide where we’ll go,” he told me following a word of prayer.
“Let’s head for the Z. U. P. de la Cité (government housing area),” I said. “It’s not far and we only did about half of it the last time we were there.”
We pedaled the half mile, climbed off our bikes, locked them to a tree, and took out the flip-charts. As we approached the nearest building, I suddenly realized that I had no idea where Elder Norton (my regular companion) and I had left off. It had been about two weeks. There hadn’t been many people home, and we hadn’t made any teaching appointments. The only thing I remembered about the cold, gray complex was that in one building one lady hadn’t liked us at all. When we had told her we were Mormon missionaries, she hadn’t just said, “Non, merci.” She had said, “Non! Non! Non!” at the top of her voice and chased us down the stairs. Everyone in the building must have heard her yell at us.
I picked out an entrance to one of the nearest stairwells (they all looked alike).
“I feel good about starting here,” I said.
“Always follow your feelings,” Elder Zoelfelt said.
We walked up the five flights to the top floor and started our way down. Nobody home. Nobody home. Come back later. Nobody home.
“It’s your turn, elder,” the zone leader reminded me.
I rang the bell. We could hear someone inside.
“Un instant! (just a minute),” a voice said.
That voice!
I looked around me. The potted plant. The light switch. The color of the door. How had I picked that door? It was the door of the lady who had chased us down the stairs! Maybe if I ran for it I could get out before she charged us. What would a zone leader think of a missionary who flees from battle?
She opened the door.
“Bonjour,” I said. “I think we’ve met before.”
“Yes, we have,” she said. “But last time you were with someone else. And … you didn’t have that black eye.”
“Well … ,” I stammered, “Would you like to know how I got it?”
“Sure,” she laughed. “Come on in.”
Her name was Madame Barnet.
“I was quite rude to you the other day,” she apologized. “But you see, I’m the local catechism teacher. The priest told us the Mormons were in the area and that we should not make it pleasant for you.”
“All we want is to tell people about Christ,” Elder Zoelfelt said.
“But we already know about him.”
The silence was deadening, the kind of silence that happens when everyone knows the next word could set off sparks.
“Well … ,” I said. “Let me tell you about my black eye.” I started with the bûche de Nöel. Then we talked about the branch president’s family. Then I told her how Natalie had tripped and bumped me on the cheekbone.
“I thought someone must have hit you,” Madame Barnet said. “But I didn’t dream it would have been a little girl.”
We talked about Christmas in France and Christmas in Ohio. We talked about turkeys and roast chestnuts and caroling and sleigh rides. We talked about families and Christmas cards and being away from home. She told us about the children in the neighborhood and how she loved them. Since her divorce, teaching them about Jesus had been a great comfort to her.
“Would you like to tell them how Jesus came to America?” Elder Zoelfelt asked.
“Come on,” she said. “No fairy tales here.”
“Seriously,” he said. “That’s something we know about Christ that you may not know. Look at this picture.”
He showed her the picture of Christ appearing to the Nephites and bore his testimony that it had actually happened. I could feel the Spirit.
“That is something that I never heard before,” she admitted. “Et vous en êtes si convaincus (and you are so sure it’s true).”
We talked a few minutes more, and then she sent us on our way. She wouldn’t let us make an appointment to teach her, but she at least smiled and shook our hands.
When we got outside, Elder Zoelfelt looked at me and smiled.
“Elder Romney,” he said, “that was one of the most original door approaches I’ve ever seen. I wonder what you’d do with a broken leg.”
I couldn’t help laughing.
“I wish she would have invited us back to teach her more,” I said. “I bet she’d really like to see ‘Christ in America.’”
“Maybe someday she will,” Elder Zoelfelt said. “Maybe she will. For right now, you’ve helped her understand us a little better. She might even consider us friends. At least you didn’t give the Church a black eye.”
I groaned. I had to. But at least I felt like I’d helped someone know a little bit more about the Church. Maybe that bump on the cheek had been worth it after all.

Then there’s Leonard Peters. One day he’s doing the Sasa, a Samoan slap dance about killing mosquitoes and flies, and on another he’s coming over from his safety position and picking off a quarterback’s pass.

Leonard is beginning his senior year at Kahuku High School in Hawaii. His team won the state championship last year and was rated by USA Today as one of the country’s best teams. He is also in his eighth year dancing at the cultural center.

"I’ve learned a lot about my heritage by working here," says Leonard, who came to Hawaii from Western Samoa when he was seven. "This job has given me a feel for what a mission will be like. I’ve been able to greet people, and visitors come and talk to me, wanting to learn more about the PCC and the Church. I’m glad I can share my talents."

Elizabeth “Buffy” Tateoka Fairbanks of Holladay, Utah, loves serving others, and she always wanted to work in the medical field. But by the time she graduated with a degree in biology, she realized medical school wasn’t for her.
Then she discovered a 15-month accelerated nursing program that seemed a perfect fit. Still, she would need help with tuition expenses. Buffy looked into scholarships and found that the military offers tuition assistance programs for those on active duty as well as for those who finish their military service.
“I decided to join the Navy because my husband, Tom, is already in the Navy. He received a scholarship to pay for his degree in mechanical engineering,” she says. After discussing the idea with him, and making it a matter of fasting and prayer, Buffy applied for and received a scholarship “to help me get through nursing school and become a registered nurse.”
Buffy was accepted into the Nurse Candidate Program. “I wasn’t required to do anything but go to school and pass my state licensing exam after graduation,” she explains. “But once I graduated, I was commissioned in the Navy Nurse Corps.”
Nursing school, Buffy discovered, emphasizes critical thinking skills and ways to apply those skills as a nurse. “It was exciting to come through the program knowing how to help save people’s lives,” she says. “I enjoyed learning how to care for patients and getting to know them as individuals.”
The thought of serving in the Navy appealed to Buffy’s sense of adventure as well as her desire to serve others. “In addition to getting help to pay for my schooling, I also knew the Navy would provide opportunities for experiences that I otherwise wouldn’t have.”
Serving in the military means time away from home and family. Fortunately, Buffy and her husband are stationed near each other and they can be together. Even during times of separation, the Internet helps them communicate with each other frequently.
They also know how important it is to rely on their testimonies of Jesus Christ to repel Satan’s temptations. She says, “We are all faced with adversity throughout our lives, and sincere prayer and staying in tune with the Spirit are important to keeping us on the right path, and also help us when we have difficult decisions to make.”
Buffy knows that faith and prayer are important in choosing educational and career paths—and in life in general. She knows that for her, choosing to join the Navy and become a nurse helps fulfill her desire to serve others.

Youth just like you have already started seeing the blessings of striving to become more like Jesus Christ in their everyday lives. Danika and Natasha R., 15, from Ohio, USA, are twin sisters who decided to do just that. Their dad is from Thailand, and because they sometimes visit family there, Danika and Natasha decided they wanted to learn more about Thai food and language.

Danika made a goal to learn to cook some Thai soup recipes. She shopped for the ingredients and practiced new cooking techniques with her dad. Natasha wanted to learn to communicate with her family in Thailand, so she set a goal to learn one new Thai word each day. She used a website to aid her language study and practiced pronouncing words with her dad.

As Danika and Natasha worked on their goals, they wanted to share what they learned with the other young women in their ward. Their leaders helped them organize an activity to learn more about Thailand. At the activity, Danika cooked soup for everyone while Natasha taught them some Thai words.

The sisters also included their friend Grace in the activity. Grace had a personal goal to get better at public speaking, so she gave a presentation on how to use chopsticks so they could eat their soup!

By practicing their goals and working with their leaders and other young women, Danika and Natasha were able to plan a fun night to enjoy with their friends.

Danika and Natasha share that they have received many blessings from striving to learn more about their heritage and celebrating it with their family and other young women. Their experience didn’t come without challenges. Natasha explains, “I was in school while I was learning Thai, so it was sometimes hard to find time to do it.” Danika adds, “At the activity, I had a little bit of trouble making the soup on my own since my dad wasn’t there.” But the sisters both agree that in the end, it was worth it.

Danika says, “I like that I got to spend time with my dad, and it helped me feel closer to my family.” She also explains, “Making and keeping my personal goals helped me come closer to Jesus Christ by giving me a clear path to helping myself and others. Instead of mindlessly milling around like some nights, I had a set standard to follow and keep to, and that gave me more time to think about Christ.”

Natasha says making and keeping her goal “really got me to think deeply about what I needed and wanted to do to become closer to Christ.” She also notes that although she has shifted her focus to a new goal, she was inspired to keep learning Thai: “My original goal was to learn Thai so I can speak to my family in Thailand, so I want to keep learning Thai so I can talk to them.”

Danika and Natasha’s balanced approach to their personal development helped them learn more about their dad’s culture, have fun with friends, and come closer to their family and the Savior—and that’s what Children and Youth is all about.

One day my four-year-old brother, Benjamin, wished for an elf to come and rescue us. It all happened on a spring holiday from school when Mom came rushing back from her Relief Society presidency meeting and gasped, “Boys, this place looks terrible! What happened?”
Nothing had happened. We’d just been awake and playing for a couple of hours and hadn’t bothered to clean up after ourselves. When five boys live in a house for two hours, things get kind of messy. We weren’t always sloppy at home. Sometimes we’d clean things up if Mom or Dad asked us to. And we usually grumbled and groaned a bit because keeping things tidy and clean wasn’t our favorite thing to do.
“I didn’t think you were supposed to be back for a long time,” Aaron said.
“I forgot some things,” Mom answered. “I have to go right back. Can’t you boys do something about this house? It looks like a tornado blew through it.”
“But, Mom,” Jared groaned, “it’s a holiday. Nobody wants to work on a holiday.”
She didn’t say anything more. She just found what she was looking for and rushed out the door again.
I looked around. Things did look pretty messy: There were clothes and toys scattered about. Ammaron had emptied all the books from the two bottom shelves, and no one had cleared the breakfast dishes from the table or swept the kitchen floor. Our bedrooms were even worse—clothes everywhere, beds unmade, toys piled on the dressers.
“Do you know what I wish?” Benjamin asked. “I wish we owned an elf.”
“An elf? What would we do with an elf?” I asked.
Benjamin’s grin grew wider, and his dark brown eyes sparkled. “I’d make him work. Then Mom wouldn’t have to.”
“If you find one, Benjy,” Aaron said with a grin, “Alma and I could sure use him in our room. Maybe we could even get him to rake the lawn and plant the garden.”
Benjamin frowned at Aaron’s teasing and stamped his foot. “I am going to find an elf. I don’t want Mom to be sad any more.” He stood up and left the room.
I forgot about the messy house and Benjamin’s elf until he bounced back into the family room a while later and announced loudly, “An elf came!”
The rest of us turned away from the TV and stared at Benjamin, who stood grinning and beaming.
“What are you talking about?” Aaron asked.
Benjamin stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth. “A secret elf came to Jared and my room. It’s clean. Mom will sure be happy when she sees what my elf did.”
Well, we’d never had an elf at our house. We didn’t really believe that Benjamin had found one now, but he had raised our curiosity enough that we left the TV and followed him down the hall.
The place was clean. At least there were no toys, blankets, or clothes scattered about. The bedspreads were a little lumpy, but the beds were made. The room looked a lot better than I had remembered it looking that morning.
“How do you know an elf did it?” Jared questioned Benjamin.
Benjamin shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “I just know. Don’t you wish an elf had visited your room, Alma?”
I stepped to the closet and pulled open the door. Three stuffed animals and a bundle of wadded-up clothes tumbled out.
Aaron snickered, bent over, and threw back the bedspread to look under the bed. More toys, shoes, and clothes had been stuffed out of sight. “Some elf,” he laughed. “Your lazy elf stuffs things away as well as you do, Benjy.”
Benjamin’s smiled drooped into a sad frown as everyone turned and left the room, laughing and joking about his lazy elf. I stayed behind.
“It really was an elf, Alma,” he said with teary eyes. “The room was clean until you opened the closet.”
I put my arm around his shoulders. “Do you know what I think, Benjamin?” He looked up at me. “I think your elf needs a little help.”
“I don’t think there’s another elf who can help him,” Benjamin said sadly, ducking his head.
I stepped over to the closet and dropped to my knees. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Sometimes I’m an elf in my spare time.”
“You?” he gasped.
I grinned, nodding.
“Will you help me, Alma? I don’t want Mom to be sad when she sees my room.”
It didn’t take us long to whip that room into shape. And it was funny how good it made me feel to be doing something good in secret.
We were just straightening the sheets on the top bunk when Jared pushed open the door and stepped in. “Hey, what are you guys doing?”
Benjamin and I looked at each other. “It’s a secret,” I said.
Jared opened the closet door. Everything was in order. He peeked under the bunk bed. Nothing was stuffed there. He pulled out the drawers. All the clothes were folded and straight. “What happened?” he asked.
“It’s a secret,” Benjamin said. “There really is an elf.”
“It’s just you two,” he said, shaking his head.
“If you don’t tell, you can join us.”
“Why would I want to join you? I hate cleaning up.”
“But if you’re an elf, it’s fun!” Benjamin burst out.
Jared looked at me. I grinned and nodded my head. He thought a moment, then said, “All right, I’ll try it.”
“Aaron and my room’s next,” I whispered.
With three elves working full speed, we had the room finished in no time.
“What are you guys up to?” Aaron demanded, walking into our room. “Are you cleaning?” He peered about. Nothing was out of place. He checked under the bed, in the closet, and through the drawers. “Did you guys really do all this?” he demanded.
“Benjy’s elf came back,” Jared said.
“And he brought two buddies,” Benjamin added.
“This place is crawling with elves,” I told him. “There’s a regular elf patrol running around.”
“Mom won’t believe it!” Benjamin crowed. “She’ll think she’s in a different house. And she won’t be sad any more.”
“Join us,” Benjamin invited.
Aaron stepped into Benjamin and Jared’s room and looked around. Then he came back to our room. “Mom won’t know what to think,” he said smiling. Suddenly he frowned. “What about the kitchen? Ammaron just poured a box of cereal all over the floor.”
“It’ll take a whole bunch of elves for that,” Benjamin said.
I turned to Aaron. “Are you in the mood to be an elf?”
“It’s fun,” Benjamin chimed in.
Aaron shrugged. “I’ve been a lot of things but never an elf. Let’s do it!”
I don’t ever remember a time when all five of us worked so hard and so fast. And it took all of us to clean up the kitchen. Jared cleared and cleaned the table, Aaron dried the dishes, helping Ammaron wash them along the way, I grabbed a broom, and Benjamin got the mop.
We were worn out when we heard the car pull into the driveway, but the place was clean.
“Quick,” Aaron ordered. “Everybody get into the family room. We’ll be watching TV, pretending we don’t know anything about the house.”
We pulled a few books from the shelf, scattered some magazines about the floor, and kicked our shoes around the room so that Mom would think we were still just lying in our old mess.
Mom trudged into the house with her arms full of Relief Society things. She staggered into the kitchen and set her things on the table.
“Goodness!” we heard her exclaim. “What happened in here?”
No one answered.
She wandered throughout the house, peering into each room. “What has happened to this house!”
I stretched and yawned. “Oh, don’t worry, Mom. This movie is about over. We’ll help you pick up the house in a few minutes.”
“Have you seen this house?” Mom asked, surprised as she walked into the family room.
“Yeah, it’s a little junky,” Aaron came back, “but we can take care of that after the movie.”
“I don’t believe this is the same house!” Mom exclaimed again. Benjamin covered his face with one of the couch cushions so that Mom wouldn’t see him laughing. Jared and I were trying to hide our giggles too.
When she actually sputtered, “This place is spotless!” we all jumped up and rushed about the house, acting surprised.
“What happened?” we called out. “This place was such a dump!”
Then Mom spotted a note that Aaron had taped to the hall wall. She opened the note and read, “A special surprise from the elf patrol.” Mom looked up. “So we’ve had an elf invasion,” she said happily.
“They must have come in while we were watching TV,” Jared cried. “Imagine that—being invaded by elves!”
Now if the house ever gets really messy or if there is a stack of dirty dishes in the sink, Mom drops down in a chair and sighs, “Oh, I wonder where the elf patrol is today.”
And before too long, without Mom ever knowing, the house gets cleaned. We still haven’t told her who belongs to the elf patrol. That would spoil the magic. And when you are working as a secret elf, all the work you do is just plain fun.

Life choices kept Shelly away from the Church for years. With the help of friends at church, Shelly eventually found the strength and faith to move forward and be a good example to her children.
But things happened, and when we got divorced, I was excommunicated. It took me about 15 years to get back into the Church. It took a while, but I didn’t want to rush it. I wanted to be going to church for all the right reasons.
I remember when we first moved to Kentucky, USA, I’d take my son to church and stay in the car while he went inside. It was a hard time. My daughter was the first of my children to get married in the temple, and I couldn’t be there. That really hurt my feelings, but of course, it was my fault.
It just takes some people like me a long time to finally figure things out. Ward members and friends were patient with me. They let me know that they were there. One family in particular reached out to me and were really like my family because I didn’t have anybody out here. They helped me start going to church, but they never pressured me. The cool thing is that when it was time, my son rebaptized me.

Listen to the words of three young women as each had experiences that provided a chance to exercise her faith.

[A video segment was shown in which several young women spoke of events and challenges in their own lives and the effect of those things on their faith.]

The second young woman, Carly, experienced difficult family circumstances through a change in her father’s employment and a move to another state. She learned the value of family relationships and being together. Through united faith and prayers, she experienced the blessing of feeling our Heavenly Father’s love and support in bringing their family back together. Her faith was strengthened.

Shane Aldous steps to the front of his karate class.
“Taegeuk Seven Jang,” he shouts and begins leading students through a complex series of movements called a kata. The movements are liquid, light on water, motion flowing into motion. Shane Aldous, stocky and strong, drops down into a low stance. His hands move into position, palms up, fingers together. His eyes wide, alert, he steps into another low stance. The transition is smooth and fast. Then with practiced precision, a hand moves in a graceful circle, stops, pulls in, and punches upward. A fast high kick follows.
A karate class might seem an unlikely place for missionary work, but for Shane Aldous, 15, and his family, members of the Manassas Virginia Ward, almost any place can present an opportunity.
“Two years ago I was the biggest guy in my class,” Shane explains. “All of the tough guys wanted to fight me. But I didn’t like fighting. My mother saw an ad in the paper for karate classes and asked if I wanted to take lessons.”
Chol H. Kim, the instructor of the class, teaches TaeKwon Do, a Korean style of karate, which emphasizes both physical and mental discipline. “In TaeKwon Do character development is as important as physical development. It’s a school rule,” Shane says, “to show respect to your teachers and your parents.”
Shane’s parents and his brother Brad, 14, were so impressed with what Master Kim was teaching that they also signed up for his classes. “We do things as a family whenever we can,” Shane says.
Because they worked together and could help each other learn, the Aldous family progressed rapidly.
Brad and Shane began entering karate tournaments, and at the National Junior Olympics they took top honors in their divisions. Shane brought home a silver medal in sparring, and Brad won a gold in form and a gold in sparring.
From the time the Aldous family enrolled in his school, Master Kim had been watching them closely. There was something about them that made them stand out from other people. “I was impressed by the support they gave each other,” he says. “And by the emphasis they put on family and personal growth.”
Eventually the Aldous family invited Master Kim to church. He began taking the missionary lessons and was baptized.
Not long after he was baptized, one of his students, Gloria Lee, 19, was also baptized.
“I thought Master Kim was making a terrible mistake,” she says. “I’d heard some bad things about the Mormons. I didn’t want him to fall into a false religion and ruin his whole life. I decided to do something about it, so I confronted him and some other members of the Church. But I had a lot of questions about my own religion, and everything they told me about Mormonism made sense. I couldn’t deny it. I started taking discussions from the missionaries, and instead of saving Master Kim from the terrible religion, I ended up being baptized myself. I am pretty lucky. My family belongs to another church, and they worry about me the way I worried about Master Kim. It’s not easy, but I’ve never regretted joining. The Church is true. The Aldous family has always been a good example for me. Without them I would not have found the Church.”
According to Shane, working together as a family and living and knowing gospel principles are important keys to being successful missionaries. “You never know when people are watching you,” he says. “Or when they are going to become interested and start asking questions.”

When my mama had an operation on her back, I prayed hard that the operation would go well. When she came home from the hospital, I saw her crying, and I asked her why she was crying. She said she was in pain. I asked her if she wanted me to say a prayer and she said yes. I quickly knelt down and asked Heavenly Father for her pain to pass so she could stop crying. When I ended the prayer my mother was no longer crying. She was smiling and she hugged me and kissed me.

Rachael Ward, another of the Young Women in the Redondo First Ward, was a little frightened to go back to school after Christmas vacation with her new short hair. “It was awful waiting for that day. Everyone noticed my hair, even people I didn’t know before. A lot of people looked at me differently. They said it made them realize that people really do good deeds for each other. It’s not just a story on television. That made me feel good.”

Two young missionaries knocked on a door, hoping to find someone to receive their message. The door opened, and a rather large man greeted them in a less-than-friendly voice: “I thought I told you not to knock on my door again. I warned you before that if you ever came back, it would not be a pleasant experience. Now leave me alone.” He quickly closed the door.

As the elders walked away, the older, more experienced missionary put his arm on the younger missionary’s shoulder to comfort and encourage him. Unknown to them, the man watched them through the window to be sure they understood his message. He fully expected to see them laugh and make light of his curt response to their attempted visit. However, as he witnessed the expression of kindness between the two missionaries, his heart was instantly softened. He reopened the door and asked the missionaries to come back and share their message with him.

Just days ago, I learned about a grandmother who rehearsed the Easter story with her four-year-old grandson by using simple replicas of the tomb, the stone that covered the sepulchre, Jesus, Mary, the disciples, and the angel. The little boy watched and listened intently as his grandma shared the burial, closing and opening of the tomb, and the garden scene of the Resurrection. He later carefully repeated the story in surprising detail to his parents as he moved the figures about himself. Following this sweet moment, he was asked if he knew why we have Easter. The boy looked up and with childlike reasoning answered, “Cuz Him’s alive.”

Before I went to FSY I prayed because I wanted to know what it is like to go on a mission and whether I should go on a mission myself. It didn’t take long before we had a lesson on being a missionary and I am glad to say that I really learned a lot. I’m also grateful that I had the opportunity to meet other youth that go through what I do every day. Look for more on Joshua in the article “Youth in Greece.”
Joshua K., 16, Athens, Greece

To help explain what the Savior has done for us, President Boyd K. Packer, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, told the story of a man who borrowed a great deal of money. He bought something he had always wanted. But when the bill came due, he could not afford to pay it. He knew that his creditor would take away his possessions as payment and throw him in jail.
Then the man’s friend came to rescue him. The friend asked, “If I pay your debt, will you accept me as your creditor?” The man gratefully agreed, and his friend told him, “You will pay the debt to me and I will set the terms. It will not be easy, but it will be possible.”
Because the friend was willing and able to pay, the creditor received the money that was fairly owed him. At the same time, the man was able to keep his possessions and not go to jail. (See Ensign, May 1977, 54–55.)

Jerry was another guy who helped me shape up properly. He managed the health spa where my brothers and I used to do our weight lifting, and he often joined our workouts.
Jerry was no scrawny high school kid. He was a mountain of muscle. Any weight I could lift barely once, Jerry could easily lift ten times. I hated it and loved it when Jerry worked out with us. I hated it because he wouldn’t let us rest or loaf.
“One more! C’mon, you can do one more rep,” he’d yell when I was ready to rack the weights. “Don’t give up now. You can do it.” Then he’d stand over me as I grunted and strained to produce one more repetition. “Atta boy. I knew you could do it.”
I hated the hard work, but I loved the encouragement and motivation he added to our workouts. Jerry squeezed out the best in me, and I always made my best lifts when he was around.

I have felt deeply about the Atonement of Jesus Christ since I was quite young, but the reality of the Savior’s Atonement came home to me when I was 25. I had just graduated from Stanford Law School and was studying for the California bar exam. My mother called and said that my grandfather Crozier Kimball, who lived in Utah, was dying. She said if I wanted to see him, I had better come home. My grandfather was 86 and very ill. I had a wonderful visit. He was so pleased to see me and share his testimony with me.
When Crozier was just three years old, his father, David Patten Kimball, died at age 44. Crozier hoped that his father and his grandfather Heber C. Kimball would approve of his life and feel he had been true to his heritage.
My grandfather’s primary counsel to me was to avoid any sense of entitlement or privilege because of these faithful ancestors. He told me my focus should be on the Savior and the Savior’s Atonement. He said we are all children of a loving Heavenly Father. Regardless of who our earthly ancestors are, each of us will report to the Savior on how well we kept His commandments.
Grandpa referred to the Savior as the “Keeper of the Gate,” a reference to 2 Nephi 9:41. He told me he hoped he had been sufficiently repentant to qualify for the Savior’s mercy.
I was deeply touched. I knew he had been a righteous man. He was a patriarch and served several missions. He taught me that no one can return to God by good works alone without the benefit of the Savior’s Atonement. I can remember to this day the great love and appreciation Grandpa had for the Savior and His Atonement.