Gospel Story Finder

When the recess bell rang, Grace hurried toward the slide with Samantha.
Chloe came running behind them. “Grace, let’s play zookeeper on the jungle gym.”
“We’re playing on the slide,” Grace said. “Want to come? We can all play together.”
“No, we can’t,” Chloe said. “You have to pick Samantha or me.”
Grace frowned. “But I already told Samantha …”
“Fine!” Chloe said, and she stomped away.
Grace walked with Samantha toward the slide. They heard Chloe’s voice behind them. She was talking to the teacher on recess duty, Mrs. Haskins.
“Grace says she doesn’t want to play with me,” Chloe said.
Grace whirled around. “That’s not what I—”
“Let’s be nice, girls,” Mrs. Haskins said.
So Grace played with Chloe, and Samantha played with someone else.
Grace thought back to the beginning of the year when she met Chloe. They played together almost every day at recess. Now Grace was getting to know the other children in her class. But Chloe got upset when Grace played with someone else. Maybe Grace could hide from Chloe at recess or tell her she didn’t want to be friends anymore. But that wouldn’t be kind.
As Mom drove home from school, Grace sighed.
“That sounds like a sad sigh,” Mom said. “What’s wrong?”
Grace told Mom about Chloe. “Friends shouldn’t be annoying, should they?”
“Do you think Chloe is trying to be annoying?” Mom asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” Grace said.
“Do you think you should tell Chloe she’s annoying?” Mom asked.
Grace pictured herself telling Chloe. She imagined that Chloe’s face would look very sad.
“No,” Grace said. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“Maybe you’ll need to work on not feeling annoyed with Chloe,” Mom said. “That’s a hard thing to do. Maybe you can think of some ideas and we can talk about it again at bedtime.”
That afternoon, Grace sat thinking. She needed some ideas for being patient with Chloe.
Then Grace remembered something. Her teacher, Mrs. Rosario, had shown the class a fun way to think of ideas. Mrs. Rosario called it an idea web.
Grace grabbed a piece of paper and wrote Chloe’s name in the center. Then she circled it and drew four lines coming out of the circle. At the end of each line, Grace wrote one thing she liked about Chloe.
Good imagination
Fun to play with
Loves animals
Fast runner
Grace decided that when she felt annoyed with Chloe, she could think of the reasons she liked Chloe.
At bedtime, Grace showed Mom the paper.
“What a great idea,” Mom said.
“I just thought of something else,” Grace said. “I could give this paper to Chloe at school tomorrow.”
“Another great idea,” Mom said. “I knew you’d think of something.”
At recess the next day, Grace headed outside.
“Chloe!” Grace called. “I have something for you!” Grace handed the paper to Chloe.
“It’s an idea web, isn’t it?” Chloe said.
“Yes,” Grace said. “Those are things I like about you.”
“Thanks,” Chloe said with a smile. “This is so cool.”
Even though the wind was chilly, Grace felt warm and happy as she played with Chloe. When the bell rang, Chloe looked at the paper again.
“I’m going to make an idea web for you,” she said to Grace. “And maybe tomorrow we could show Samantha how to play zookeeper.”
Grace smiled. Tomorrow would be another great day.

Paula says, “The standards I always saw my friend live were now mine. My friend’s testimony was now mine.” Not long after, Paula began to feel an intense desire to share with others what she had been given. When she had been a member for one year, she filled out her mission papers, met with her priesthood leaders, and received a call to serve in the Chile Santiago East Mission.
Valeria says, “As I watched my friend prepare to serve her mission, the Spirit touched my heart. I wanted to commit myself to serve God the way she was.”
“May I speak to you?” This time it was Valeria who had pulled Paula aside. “I’ve felt something special as you have been preparing to leave on your mission.”
Paula told her friend the same thing her friend had once told her: “It’s the Spirit telling you what you need to do.”
Valeria’s plans hadn’t included a full-time mission. She wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. “I can’t do it alone,” she told Paula.
“Don’t worry. I’ll help you,” her friend assured.
Later, when Valeria opened her call, she was surprised to be going to the same mission as her friend. Paula began serving in October 2002; Valeria joined her in February 2003.

“I’ve wanted to fly airplanes for as long as I can remember,” 17-year-old Lamar F. says. When a friend from his wheelchair racing days told him about a British charity that helps people with disabilities learn to fly, Lamar was eager to try.
He signed up for two of the charity’s programs. One of them, the Junior Aspiring Pilots Program (JAPP), was created especially for youth between the ages of 12 and 18. These programs and other solo lessons are all propelling him one step closer to his big goal—getting his Private Pilot License.
Part of his inspiration comes from his family. Lamar’s foster dad was the first person to get him hooked on flight, taking him to airshows every year. Later, after he was adopted by another family at age four, Lamar’s interest in aviation continued to thrive as he watched his adoptive father pursue a pilot’s license. “He’s my inspiration for wanting to be a pilot,” Lamar says. Now Lamar’s dad can ride with him in the single-propeller, five-seater airplanes Lamar is learning to fly.
Lamar’s parents (pictured here on either side of him) are some of his biggest supports.

1 Whoa! I’ll get sent down to the minors if you keep pounding my famous fast ball.
2 Dad, Sister Simon told us that Jesus blessed people who couldn’t walk, and they stood up and walked. You gave me a blessing after my accident. How come I wasn’t healed?
I don’t know why, Sweetheart. Heavenly Father could raise up everyone out of every wheelchair, but he has chosen not to. What I do know is that he loves you and will do what’s best for you.
3 But being healed, would be best for me. What could be wrong with running and jumping and being free of this chair?
I don’t know. But tell me—haven’t you gained anything from being in that chair?
4 Well, I guess my arms are stronger.
And so is your spirit. You’ve become a very brave young lady, and I’ve watched you develop great love and kindness for other people with problems. Would you really want to give up everything you’ve learned?
5 I guess not, but I really want to walk again.
You will, Cathlyn. Because of the resurrection, you’ll have a perfect body again someday, and you’ll also get to keep everything you’ve learned from being in this chair. I know it’s a long time to wait, but Heavenly Father will help you.
6 And in the meantime, I can already hit your famous fast ball.
True, but I’ve been working on a mystery curve.
I like solving mysteries.

Mark Dougherty, 18, of the Portadown Ward, Belfast Northern Ireland Stake, likes to tell people he was converted by the book—by the Book of Mormon, that is. Little else is conventional in his conversion story.
Around Christmastime, he found a copy of the Book of Mormon. “I just picked it up and started reading it and learning what was in it.” Eventually, he set the book aside.
A few months passed. Then the missionaries knocked on his door, and even though his family didn’t let them in, Mark’s interest was rekindled. “I started reading again, and it just seemed like what I was reading was right.”
Later Mark saw the Church listing in the phone book, called, and asked to be taught. “They sent two elders around, I had the discussions, and about a month later, I was baptized.”

Many years ago I attended a large gathering of Church members in the city of Berlin, Germany. A spirit of quiet reverence permeated the gathering as an organ prelude of hymns was played. I gazed at those who sat before me. There were mothers and fathers and relatively few children. The majority of those who sat on crowded benches were women about middle age—and alone. Suddenly it dawned on me that perhaps these were widows, having lost their husbands during World War II. My curiosity demanded an answer to my unexpressed thought, so I asked the conducting officer to take a sort of standing roll call. When he asked all those who were widows to please arise, it seemed that half the vast throng stood. Their faces reflected the grim effect of war’s cruelty. Their hopes had been shattered, their lives altered, and their future had in a way been taken from them. Behind each countenance was a personal travail of tears. I addressed my remarks to them and to all who have loved, then lost, those most dear.
Frederick W. Babbel, who accompanied Elder Ezra Taft Benson on his postwar visit to Europe to assist the struggling Saints, recounts in his book On Wings of Faith one heartrending account. A woman, even the mother of four small children, had been newly widowed. Her husband, young and handsome, whom she loved more than life itself, had been killed during the final days of the frightful battles in their homeland of East Prussia. She and her children were forced to flee to West Germany, a distance of a thousand miles. The weather was mild as they began their long and difficult trek on foot. Constantly being faced with dangers from panicky refugees and marauding troops was difficult enough, but then came the cold of winter, with its accompanying snow and ice. Her resources were meager; now they were gone. All she had was her strong faith in God and in the gospel as revealed to the latter-day prophet Joseph Smith.
And then one morning the unthinkable happened. She awakened with a chill in her heart. The tiny form of her three-year-old daughter was cold and still, and she realized that death had claimed her. With great effort the mother prepared a shallow grave and buried her precious child.
Death, however, was to be her companion again and again on the journey. Her seven-year-old perished, and then her five-year-old. Her despair was all-consuming. Finally, as she was reaching the end of her travel, the baby died in her arms. She had lost her husband and all her children. She had given up all her earthly goods, her home, and even her homeland.
From the depths of her despair, she knelt and prayed more fervently than she had ever prayed in her life: “Dear Heavenly Father, I do not know how I can go on. I have nothing left—except my faith in thee. I feel amidst the desolation of my soul an overwhelming gratitude for the atoning sacrifice of thy Son, Jesus Christ. I know that because he suffered and died, I shall live again with my family; that because he broke the chains of death, I shall see my children again in the flesh and will have the joy of raising them. Though I do not at this moment wish to live, I will do so, that we may be reunited as a family and return, together, to thee.” This prayer, this testimony sustained her until finally she reached Karlsruhe, her destination.

Four hundred and fifty kilometers northwest of Udorn, in Chiang Mai, workers are installing a fountain in the manicured grounds of a spacious, modern home. Three children are busily watching. They are Atikun, 13, Punjaree, 8, and Nathanon, 6. Their mother, Datchanee Limsukhon, is the only member of the Church in the family. Her husband, a neurologist, does not object to her Church membership, but sometimes she has to adjust her Church participation to meet her family’s needs.
Sister Limsukhon’s first contact with the Church came when, as a young woman, she heard branch members singing in a rented hall in Bangkok. She liked what she heard and wanted to join “that church” so she could sing with the other members. She believed the missionary discussions, but her family initially refused permission for her to be baptized. “But I knew that I wanted to be baptized, and I was in November 1969.”
In January 1970, she returned to her home in Chiang Mai and earned a nursing degree from the local university. She then went to the Church’s Language Training Mission in Hawaii, where she taught Thai to the missionaries for four months before she was called on a mission herself. On completing her mission in Bangkok, she had the opportunity to go to the United States for additional nursing experience in Utah and Texas. She then went to England to marry her Thai fiance, who was studying there.
When her husband completed his schooling, they returned home to Chiang Mai, where he has been in practice ever since.
“Since I am the only Latter-day Saint in my family, the standards of the Church are most important to me,” says Sister Limsukhon. “I am committed to living them.”

One day in 1961 while Elder Slagowski and I were knocking on doors in Wilhelmshaven, West Germany, an elderly widow graciously welcomed us into her humble apartment. I was so surprised that I asked if she really understood who we were. She assured us that she did and that she had been waiting for us.
She told us that two Latter-day Saint elders had knocked on her door decades before, when she was a young mother. Because she was busy at the time, she had turned them away. Afterward she felt terrible about it and vowed that if Latter-day Saint missionaries ever knocked again, she would invite them in.
Emma Henke had a keen mind, and she listened to our message intently, but she often seemed to have a distant, far-off look. She was kind to us and was always eager to share her meager fare, but we wondered if she truly comprehended the importance of our message. Finally we decided to put her on our callback list and just drop by from time to time when we were in the neighborhood.
A few weeks later we stopped in again. As we visited, Emma suddenly announced, to our surprise, her determination to be baptized!
It was only then that she began sharing details from her difficult life. During the last days of World War I, her infant daughter had died. In 1924 a nine-year-old daughter had succumbed to diphtheria. During the winter of 1941–42 she had received her last letter from her 21-year-old son, who was fighting on the Russian front during World War II. She learned of his death a short time later.
Emma’s husband, Hugo, had despised the policies of the Nazi government. She often pleaded with him to be more cautious. Early one day in 1944, after a government radio-beam locator tracked a British Broadcasting Corporation signal to the Henkes’ home, the Gestapo broke down the door and arrested him. He was sent to a concentration camp near Hamburg, and Emma and their last surviving child, a young son, were left to fend for themselves.
Emma went to the local Nazi official responsible for her husband’s imprisonment and pleaded on her knees for his life but to no avail. She later learned of Hugo’s death in March 1945. The official himself was subsequently sentenced to life in prison but had been released shortly before we knocked on Emma’s door. She said she often saw him speeding along the streets of the city in an expensive new car. On the day she requested baptism, Emma said she had finally found the strength to forgive him for taking away her husband and rejecting her pleas for mercy. She had resolved to leave judgment in the hands of the Lord.
Emma became a faithful member of the Church and found great joy and comfort in discovering the truths of the restored gospel. In November 1966, while hurrying across a public square in Wilhelmshaven on her way to a Relief Society meeting, she collapsed and died of a heart attack.
Sister Henke refused to become embittered by the trials of her life, and she died free of the rancor of revenge. Surely this dear sister enjoyed a marvelous reunion with those she had loved and lost.

As the organist played prelude music, Keeley looked around the chapel. She smiled when she saw some of her friends she had left behind when her family moved to a small town in eastern Colorado.
Her family had returned to Loveland, Colorado, for the blessing of her aunt and uncle’s baby girl. All of her dad’s family had come for the special event.
She liked her family’s new home, but she was happy to be back in Loveland, where she had lived most of her life and had so many relatives and friends.
After the opening song and prayer and announcements, the bishop announced that there would be a blessing of a baby.
Keeley watched as her dad, uncle, grandpa, and other family members gathered to bless baby Kaitlyn.
Uncle Mark gave his daughter a name and a blessing. She knew that the men who stood in the circle held the priesthood. Keeley’s dad had explained how important the priesthood was when he had baptized her and confirmed her a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints a year ago. In another year, her oldest brother, Samuel, would receive the Aaronic Priesthood and be ordained a deacon.
Keeley felt tears sting her eyes as she heard Uncle Mark’s voice quiver during the middle of the blessing. She reached up to brush them away.
When the blessing was over, Uncle Mark held up Kaitlyn so that the congregation could see her.
After sacrament meeting, Keeley and her brothers went to Primary. The chorister invited them to choose their favorite songs for the children to sing.
Keeley chose “I’m Trying to Be like Jesus.”* The Primary children had sung it for the Primary sacrament meeting program a year ago, and it had remained one of her favorite songs.
Following opening exercises and sharing time, she went to class. When class let out, Keeley said good-bye to her friends. Once again, tears gathered in her eyes.
Everyone in the family went to Uncle Mark and Aunt Celeste’s home after church. Keeley took a turn holding the new baby. All too soon, it was time to leave.
“It was like going home,” Keeley said during the drive. “All of our family and friends were there and were glad to see us.”
“That’s how it is in heaven,” Dad said. “Family members and friends who are already there are happy to see those they left behind on earth.”
“Like when Grandpa Munson died?” Keeley asked. Her mother’s dad had died before Keeley was born. She had heard Mom talk about Grandpa and what a great man he was.
“Exactly like that,” Mom said. “We were sad that Grandpa had to leave us, but we knew there were lots of people in heaven waiting for him.” She took Keeley’s hand and squeezed it. “I know you were glad to see your old friends, and they were glad to see you. We’ll see them again. In the meantime, you have friends at our new home who will be happy that you’re back.”
“Just like in heaven,” Keeley said. She liked the comparison.
“Just like in heaven,” Mom agreed.
After family prayer that night, Keeley kissed her parents good night. She thought of her friends back in Loveland and her friends here at home, then she imagined how many more friends and family members must be waiting to see her again in heaven. A sweet warmth settled over her like a comfortable blanket as she got ready for bed.

Now I can hear the young deacons saying, “Well, now, that may be fine for you, but surely you don’t think that’s going to help me in my assignment down here in this deacons quorum.” Oh yes, I do. I was a deacons quorum adviser. A boy, the president, presided in the meetings, and I taught the lessons out of the scriptures and out of the manual.
I remember one boy in the quorum had to miss a few meetings, and so he sent his brother to the class with a tape recorder. His brother recorded our meeting and took it home. It happened more than once. When the deacon came back, I asked him why. I don’t remember his words, but I remember that it was clear he knew what I knew. God was trying to speak to that deacons quorum. The boy wasn’t anxious to have a tape recording to hear me; he was trying to hear God. He knew where to listen and how to hear.
He’d read the scriptures for us in class, and I knew he knew them and loved them. And so, even when I wasn’t teaching very well, by the power of the Holy Ghost and from knowing the Master’s voice in the scriptures, he could hear what he needed to hear. The memory of that black recorder with its tape turning will always remind me of the scripture which says, “He that hath ears to hear, let him hear” (Matthew 11:15).
I spoke at his funeral just a few years later. He lived about as many years as the Prophet Joseph had lived when he saw God the Father and Jesus Christ in the grove. My deacon hadn’t seen a vision, but he had heard the voice of God through His servants in a deacons quorum. He wanted to hear, he knew how, and he had the faith he could. Like the boy prophet Joseph, he knew the heavens were open.

I would not say that I had no goals before I was baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. But I can say that my life had no clear direction. I sometimes felt as if I were walking in darkness, not really knowing which way to go.
Like most other 19-year-olds in Saint Petersburg, Russia, I hoped to someday get married, have children, and live happily ever after. Still, I wouldn’t say that I exactly knew how to achieve this goal—especially the part about living happily ever after.
But Heavenly Father knew. He knew that before I could attain real happiness, I needed to place Him and His Son at the center of my life. I started to learn how to do this not long before my 20th birthday when the missionaries began to teach my family about how to find happiness through living the commandments.
After we met the missionaries, it didn’t take long for me to know what to do. I prayed and knew that if I wanted to meet my life’s goals, I needed to be baptized a member of Jesus Christ’s Church.
Following my baptism, I was ostracized by some friends and family members who couldn’t understand why making this choice to follow Heavenly Father’s plan was so important to me. Despite this, I was happy. I knew He was comforting me by allowing me to go through these trials with peace.
By the time I turned 21, I had a strong desire to testify of the truthfulness of the gospel and share with others how resolving to live the commandments had changed my life, so I became a missionary. It felt wonderful to share with people what had happened to my life from the time I decided to put the gospel first.
My life has been full of blessings since that time. Eight years ago I was able to enter the temple and reach my goal of getting married. However, instead of only being married, I was sealed to my husband for eternity.
Over the last several years, my goal of becoming a mother has also been fulfilled. I have been blessed with three wonderful sons.
Not long ago my family and I had the opportunity to visit a temple open house. As we walked through the temple, our four-year-old son looked at me and said, “Mom, because you and Dad got married in the temple, our family is going to be together forever.”
I feel blessed and humbled to think of the last decade of my life. I am on my way to achieving my goal for a “happily ever after,” thanks to the fact that I turned my life to my Heavenly Father and to Jesus Christ. As long as I place Them at the center of my life, I know I can achieve my goals. I know that Heavenly Father and the Savior love us and want to help.
Would you like to share how Jesus Christ has touched your life? We welcome accounts of your gospel experiences and insights relating to the Savior’s ministry and mission. Possible topics might include the Atonement, grace, healing, hope, or repentance. Please limit submissions to 500 words, label them “We Talk of Christ,” and send them to liahona@ldschurch.org.

Liking the school was one thing, but getting accepted was another thing altogether.

“I had to audition in front of the teacher,” Kamila said. “It was really hectic, because I had to create two storyboards [outlines of her film ideas] to present. I wasn’t prepared on the first day like everyone else, so I had to go on the second day. On the way there we got a little lost, and I was late. My mom told me not to worry and to call my dad. I did, and he said a prayer with me over the phone. It was nice.”

Kamila calmed down and presented her storyboards. The result? She was accepted into the program, and she just started her third year there.

When I was young, I had an experience that helped me relate to the blind man described in John 9. The man was blind from birth. The disciples asked Jesus, “Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?
“Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him” (John 9:2–3; emphasis added).
Jesus anointed the blind man’s eyes with clay and instructed him to wash in the pool of Siloam. The man did as instructed and “came seeing” (John 9:7).
There were witnesses to this miracle who could not comprehend it. They took the man to the Pharisees, who questioned him about it repeatedly. The man finally told the Pharisees, “If this man were not of God, he could do nothing” (John 9:33). For this statement, he was cast out.
Then a great blessing occurred—an even greater blessing than having his sight restored. Jesus, having heard that they had cast the man out, found him and allowed him to declare his belief: “He said, Lord, I believe. And he worshipped him” (John 9:38).
I was 11 years old when the “works of God were made manifest” in me. In the fifth grade, I developed warts on my hands. Both hands were covered with the ugly virus sufficiently enough to earn me the nickname “warthog” among my classmates. Needless to say, it affected my self-esteem and social life.
When my family moved from Utah to Idaho the following summer, I dreaded the thought of going to a new school. In my old class, I took plenty of teasing, but I also had two good friends who stood by me. This new place offered no such assurance.
I began to search for ways to rid myself of my burden. With my mother’s help, we tried over-the-counter remedies and even some home remedies, but the warts remained. Money was limited, so seeing the doctor for such a nonemergency was out of the question. I began feeling like there would be no end to this malady.
Towards the end of summer, it occurred to me to ask Heavenly Father for help. My family had been active in the Church for about two years, and I had been taught about the power of fasting accompanied by prayer, but I had never before taken the opportunity to do this.
Over two weeks I fasted every few days. I remember how hard it was to pass up my mom’s homemade cherry pie, but I believed the outcome of my fast would be equal to my faith and sacrifice. I prayed earnestly in our backyard, where I could speak aloud and not be interrupted. At the end of the two-week period, my warts were gone. Every one of them had shrunk away.
When school started a couple of weeks later, I felt a new confidence. This confidence came, in part, from having healed hands that I did not have to hide, but more so from an internal seed that had sprouted to life.
I had gained personal knowledge of a great truth—that I was a daughter of Heavenly Father, the true and living God. I knew that He loved me and that He heard and answered my prayers. Just as the man in the scriptures, the works of God had been made manifest in me, on a physical and a spiritual level.
A few years later, when I was a senior in high school, my philosophy teacher asked each of us to justify our belief in God. He asked us to “prove” God’s existence. I shared this experience with my class and testified not only of God’s existence but of His love for us. After the bell rang, my teacher pulled me aside and asked me to consider that perhaps it was the power of positive thinking, rather than God, that had caused my warts to disappear. I did not hesitate in my response to him that I knew of a surety the source of this miracle.
Perhaps someday I too will be allowed the blessing of kneeling before my Healer and proclaiming, “Lord, I believe.”

In April 2008 a mixture of excitement, shock, joy, and gratitude quickly spread among Church members in the Gila Valley, Arizona, when President Thomas S. Monson announced plans to build a temple there. The thing that had been longed for, prayed for, predicted, and prophesied was finally going to happen.
Youth of the Church in the area soon learned they would be participating in a cultural celebration that would accompany the temple dedication, and their excitement grew. For months they practiced for the production, titled “The Place Which God for Us Prepared.” Then on May 22, 2010, the day before the temple dedication, they performed.
The New Era was privileged to visit with some of these youth at that time to find out how these experiences affected them. Here are some of the feelings they expressed about the temple and the opportunity to perform for the President of the Church.
Alexandria Alder, 16, Thatcher Arizona Stake: “Our leaders want all of the youth to be participating because they realize that this temple is going to be for our generation.”
Camille Christensen, 15, Thatcher Arizona Stake: “We’re thankful that the temple is here, and we’re just showing everyone how happy we are to have a temple.”
Mariah Mayberry, 17, St. David Arizona Stake: “We’re showing some things about the people the prophet sent to settle this area, who were my ancestors. So in this celebration I get to show what they were all about and what they did.”
Dallin Green, 16, Safford Arizona Stake: “At the end, during ‘Come, Come, Ye Saints,’ the Spirit was so intensely strong; it was unlike anything else. And you know when it’s the Spirit; there’s no doubt in your mind. It’s a peaceful and happy feeling that cannot be mistaken for anything else. We’ll remember this for the rest of our lives.”
Camille: “For the finale I was right in front of the prophet. He was smiling at me, and I was smiling back. I was waving my flag like I was supposed to, and then he said, ‘Give me that flag.’ I thought it was a joke, but then I thought, ‘OK. I’ll give it to you.’ And so he got up and was waving it with the rest of us. It was really fun. I guess he wanted to be a part of it.”
Reese Jarvis, 16, Pima Arizona Stake: “The Spirit was so strong. I was singing as loud as I could. It’s just a really life-changing experience for me. On the last verse of ‘Come, Come, Ye Saints’ I started bawling. I thought, ‘This isn’t fair. I want to be tough.’ But it didn’t happen. I just couldn’t finish the song. You can’t explain the feelings you had.”
Cassie Scott, 16, Safford Arizona Stake: “My parents were married in the temple, so we get to be together as a family for time and all eternity and not just till death. The temple is something that I’ve always been taught about, but I also think that it has a special place in my heart.”
Camille: “My family is the most important thing to me, and because of the blessings of the temple, I can be with them for eternity. My grandpa passed away a few months ago. He was really close to us. It’s been so hard on us, and it still really is. It’s wonderful to know that through the blessings of the temple, I can see him again if I do what’s right and endure to the end. I know that families are forever through the temple. That’s the greatest gift ever.”
Shelby Peck, 14, Safford Arizona Stake: “My family has pictures of the temple in every room in my house—to remind us of our goal. I’ve grown up knowing that’s the only place I want to get married.”
Dallin: “I know that since my parents were married and sealed in the temple, that I’m sealed to them. It’s a great source of happiness to know that as long as each of us lives righteously, we can be an eternal family.”
Allison Taylor, 18, Sierra Vista Arizona Stake: “Since my dad’s in the military, we move a lot. Every time we’ve moved, the first trip we take is always to the nearest temple, and we take pictures with our parents outside the temple. In our home, in each of our bedrooms, there’s a picture of the temple or a picture of Christ so that we remember where we’re trying to get to and that that should be the center of our life.”
Allison: “When selecting a college, I picked one that has a large LDS branch, a singles branch, so that I could possibly find somebody to take me to the temple so that I can start my own eternal family. And when I looked for a university, I tried to look for a university that was close to a temple.”
Alexandria: “In the future I’ll be going to The Gila Valley Arizona Temple someday—that’s where I want to go and get married. That’s my plan. I won’t settle for anything less.”
Dallin: “I know that I’ll be going to the temple before my mission. If we’re ready and worthy to go to the temple, then we’re worthy to go on a mission. So that’s my goal—to aim the highest I can so that I’ll be ready for my mission and whatever life holds for me.”
Reese: “The temple helps my standards stay high so that I can be ready for callings and to return to my Father in Heaven. If I am worthy to go to the temple, then I am worthy to fulfill my callings and to lead the way I should.”
Allison: “At the dedication we got to sit together as a family. As we were sitting there, we could feel each other’s love and how true the gospel is and how true the plan of salvation is and how we could all be there together.”
Dallin: “We are not the only ones who are aware of this and are excited about this, but people in the spirit world there are excited for it, too. And the temple is for them and for us, to bind us to each other for eternity. The Spirit was so strong. And I think it’s important that we write it down in our journals and remember it in as much detail as we can.”
Mariah: “The prophet’s blessing on the youth makes me feel relieved to know that the President of the Church is praying for the youth, because he’s God’s servant, and I think that when he asks Heavenly Father to bless the youth, I’m pretty sure that the youth will be blessed. So it’s a relief to know that I’ve got a lot of support that I can’t even see.”
Shelby: “The blessing that President Monson gave the youth today at the dedication made me feel he cared for the youth and loved us and wanted us to know that he loved us. It just made me feel special.”
Alexandria: “I just feel blessed that I’m a youth at this time. One of the main blessings was that my testimony has been strengthened so much.”
Camille: “My involvement in the temple cultural celebration has helped me realize how important the temple is in my life, and it strengthened my testimony about the prophet. And I learned that we can have fun in our Church.”
Dallin: “The blessings that the Lord has poured out here are unique. Living here has been a really cool experience, and the temple is the greatest blessing we could have.”
Mariah: “I feel that I’ve been blessed in not just spiritual ways, which have been pouring all over me, but I was blessed with friendships that I wouldn’t have had otherwise.”
Cassie: “I’ve felt and heard and learned a lot. It came to my attention how powerful the Spirit is when you are doing what’s right and when the prophet’s around you.”
Reese: “I’ve had trials in my life, but they all just started going away as this celebration started kicking it up. They all straightened out, and I found the strength to get rid of them.”
Shelby: “I learned the importance of the temple and how much we center our religion around the temple. Having the prophet come down for the temple dedication, who is the mouthpiece for Christ, just helped me realize that the prophet is important and that he loves us.”
Allison: “I’ve gained a better understanding of the temple and how temples relate to us. This is part of our whole life. It’s something we need forever.”

Jenay watched as Mommy set the freshly baked white cake on the kitchen table. Tonight was Christmas Eve, when her family would celebrate Jesus’s birth.
Jenay liked going caroling with her family, baking gingerbread men, and decorating the tree. But remembering Jesus’s birthday was her favorite thing to do at Christmas.
Can I help you put the icing on the cake?
We need to let it cool first.
Jenay helped Mommy clean off the counters and wash the dishes.
Do you think the cake is cool now?
I think it’s just about right.
Mommy and Jenay spread fluffy white icing on the cake.
After dinner Daddy asked the family to gather in the living room.
Even though we know that Jesus was born in the spring, we like to celebrate His birthday at this time of year.
Mommy read the story of Jesus’s birth from the Bible and the Book of Mormon. Then Daddy bore his testimony of Jesus’s Atonement and Resurrection.
One by one, the family members opened their presents to Jesus and read what they had written on a slip of paper. With Mommy’s help, Jenay had written, “Be more reverent at church.”
I’m proud of each of you. All of your gifts show your love for Jesus Christ.
Mommy cut the cake and served it on fancy dishes. Jenay took a bite of cake and smiled.
I love Jesus, and I know He loves me.
A sweet feeling of peace settled over her like a cozy warm quilt.

My understanding of those words deepened soon after our family departed Newbury Park, California, to serve in the Utah Ogden Mission in 2015. I received an invitation to tour Hill Air Force Base near Layton, Utah. I had never been on a military base, nor had I met a military chaplain or the men and women who work to provide safety and protection for their country.
Chaplain Harp, like thousands of other volunteer and professional chaplains who serve in our prisons, hospitals, and military installations around the world, inspired and uplifted me. Our last stop on the base was the sanctuary. I asked the chaplain if he administered services for all people who desired to ponder, pray, meditate, and worship. He went to the front wall of the chapel, and he pulled a cross from behind the curtains. He said he used the cross for Protestant and Catholic services. I asked what he used for our Jewish brothers and sisters, and he went to the other side of the front wall, and he pulled out a Star of David.
I then asked, “What do you do for Latter-day Saint services?” He pushed those symbols away and pointed to the large wooden altar in the middle of the sanctuary. He said that members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints prepare and bless the bread and water on the altar. I asked if the large, seemingly fixed altar was removed before the services of our Jewish, Muslim, Catholic, or Protestant brothers and sisters. He said that the altar stays in place, for several of those faiths also utilize the altar in some way.
Abraham built an altar, bound Isaac, and was ready to sacrifice his only son, but his hand was stayed, and he declared, like the Lord has declared, “Here am I”! How many times has the Great I Am or one of His prophets volunteered, “Here am I”?
During His Sermon on the Mount, the Savior invited us to reconcile with our brothers and sisters before we approach the altar. Paul taught that we are “sanctified” at the altar through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
The prophet Lehi “left his house … and his precious things. … [Then] he built an altar …? and made an offering … , and gave thanks unto the Lord.”
The Bible and the Book of Mormon teach us to worship the Son of God at altars. Why?
Our first parents, Adam and Eve, built and worshipped at altars. After they were cast out of the Garden of Eden and had worshipped for “many days,” an angel visited and asked a poignant question that could be asked of each of us: “Why dost thou offer sacrifices unto the Lord?”
Adam answered, “I know not.”
The angel’s response to Adam’s humble admission is stunning: “This … is a similitude of the sacrifice of the Only Begotten of the Father. … Wherefore, thou shalt do all that thou doest in the name of the Son, and thou shalt repent and call upon God in the name of the Son forevermore.”
The sacrament table and temple altars symbolize the sacrifice of Jesus Christ and His infinite Atonement.
As we make and honor our covenants, receiving the ordinances of the sacrament at church and the endowment and sealing at the temple, we bind ourselves to the Savior, gaining greater access to His mercy, protection, sanctification, healing, and rest.
As a 15-year-old young man, I asked my dad if I could skip sacrament meeting—just one Sunday in January for a special American football game. He said I was old enough to make that choice for myself and asked me to consider one piece of counsel. He said, “If you choose to miss the sacrament once, it’s much easier to choose to miss it again.”
If the Savior is the great connector, then the adversary is the separator. He, Satan, tempts us to separate ourselves from our consecrated places of worship and from the protection of Jesus Christ. When we worship the Savior, we receive “power to go against the natural worldly flow.” When we spend time in communion with Him, we have a promise to be “delivered from Satan.” “Then, as we keep our covenants, He endows us with His … strengthening power.” Oh, how I cherish the experience of communing with the Savior through covenants made at holy altars.
Building an understanding of the Savior’s eternal Atonement line upon line, precept upon precept, provides a spiritual inoculation against the wiles of the adversary. Young Elder Jaggi in Mexico, Zuster Jaggi in Belgium, and other missionaries throughout the world are much more likely to see their friends claim the blessings of baptism and receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost if their friends attend sacrament meeting within the first week of contact.
A young adult in Tonga or Samoa is much more likely to be sealed in the house of the Lord if they have prepared for and received their endowment soon after graduating from school. In the endowment, members are invited to live, obey, and keep five laws which imbue their lives with power and protection. As we make covenants with the Lord, a reciprocal relationship forms. We demonstrate our loyalty and love to Him. Our strength and power grow with each promise made and kept.
When we humbly and symbolically kneel at the altars of the Lord, it is an opportunity for reflection, “checked as to the pride of [our] hearts, … [humbling ourselves] before God.” Before I went out with my friends as a youth, my mother would often say, “Remember who you are, and check in when you get home.” Some nights I missed my check-in because I arrived home too late. I regret missing those important visits with Mom.
Today I look forward to check-in connections with Heavenly Father. In my daily pattern of personal worship, I kneel in prayer, next to my bed or gathered with family, and I envision myself kneeling at the altars, reflecting on and examining my life. I think about the sacrament, even whole pieces of bread, broken and torn for us, each a symbol of our Savior’s broken body. I’m reminded of President Dallin H. Oaks’s teaching that “each piece of bread is unique, just as the individuals who partake of it are unique.” When I kneel in prayer, I think on how I can give God my will.
Elder David A. Bednar taught that “the ordinance of the sacrament is a holy and repeated invitation to repent sincerely and to be renewed spiritually. The act of partaking of the sacrament, in and of itself, does not remit sins. But as we prepare conscientiously and participate in this holy ordinance with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, then the promise is that we may always have the Spirit of the Lord to be with us. And by the sanctifying power of the Holy Ghost as our constant companion, we can always retain a remission of our sins.”
When Amy and I look closely at our life experiences, we celebrate the gift of Jesus Christ’s perfect love and sacrifice. We also see how hell’s fury has been loosed. How can we overcome stares of judgment, anxiety, depression, cancer, diabetes, online bullying, stolen identity, lost pregnancies, the loss of a child, a brother, and a father? Because Jesus took of the bitter cup of trembling, the cup of fury—for me, for my family, for all of us!
Gethsemane, by Adam Abram, courtesy of altusfineart.com © 2025
The “bitter cup” He drank in the Garden of Gethsemane and His suffering, “intensified” on the cross at Calvary, allow us to lay the hard, the insolent, the violent, the furious, and the trembling upon the altars of the Lord and be “sanctified by the reception of the Holy Ghost,” always.
Sister Patricia Holland said, “My deepest prayer for you and for myself today is that we will give over completely, lay ourselves at the altar of God’s promises and peace no matter where we are and no matter what we have done.”
When we come to the altar, we aren’t earning a reward; we are learning about the Gift Giver. In that learning and covenant binding comes healing. Nephi said, “He hath filled me with his love, even unto the consuming of my flesh.” And our loving Savior invited, “Will ye not now return unto me, and repent of your sins, and be converted, that I may heal you?”
When our two oldest daughters, Mackenzie and Emma, were little, one of their favorite stories was The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. We all fell in love with the lion, Aslan. One of our most memorable nights reading the book was when the great lion gave his life for Edmund. Memorable because parents and daughters shed tears as the lion’s life was taken on the Stone Table by the Witch. Memorable because hope persisted, despite the tragedy, until the spectacular happened. Squeals of joy resounded in that little bedroom when Aslan was resurrected and said, “If [the Witch knew the true meaning of sacrifice], … she would [know] that [if] a willing victim who had committed no treachery [died] in a traitor’s stead, the [Stone] Table would crack and Death itself would [begin to unwind].”
Jesus Christ heals all wounds. Jesus Christ makes it possible to live again.
In his October 2022 general conference talk, President Russell M. Nelson described a tour group coming through a temple open house. A young boy was there. President Nelson taught:
“When the tour group entered an endowment room, the boy pointed to the altar, where people kneel to make covenants with God, and said, ‘Oh, that’s nice. Here is a place for people to rest on their temple journey.’
“... He likely had no idea about the direct connection between making a covenant with God in the temple and the Savior’s stunning promise:
“‘Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest?.
“‘Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; … and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
“‘For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light’ [Matthew 11:28–30; emphasis added].”
“The Son of Man has no place to lay his head,” yet He invited His disciples, you and me, to the sacrament table to rest with Him there. When “humble souls at altars kneel,” peace abounds. Our Savior’s arms are outstretched; His table is spread. Come worship the Son of God at His holy altars. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

We had just finished dinner at my grandparents’ cabin, and I was outside playing with my five little brothers when my dad walked out and called to me.
Of course when your dad calls you like that, you’re afraid you may be in trouble. So I trudged over and mumbled, “Yeah, Dad?”
Surprisingly, he said, “How would you like to go on a motorcycle ride with me?” I’m sure my eyes must have widened to the size of golf balls as I quickly responded, “Yes, of course I want to go.”
Soon my dad was leading the way as we each drove a motorcycle down a path that winds through the majestic forest surrounding our cabin and then climbs to the top of a hill. As we rode, I was so excited that I could barely keep the throttle on low. Once or twice my dad had to tell me to slow down.
My mind wandered as we rode. I was curious why I had been given this special treat and my brothers hadn’t. When we reached the top of the mountain, Dad said, “This looks like a nice place to stop and rest.” So we parked our motorcycles and sat down on some rocks overlooking the forest. We were both quiet for a moment, enjoying the beauty around us. As I glanced over at my dad, I noticed his thoughtful stare and knew something was coming.
He and I had never really talked a lot. I guess it was just too hard for him to express himself to anyone but my mom. Then he interrupted my thoughts and said, “Kjersten, your mother and I have been talking, and we have decided you are now mature enough to know some of the details concerning our marriage and family.” I could tell by the words he used and by the way he said them that he had been planning this talk for a while.
His voice was soft as he began. “Your mother and I first met at the fire station where I was a student firefighter, and she worked in the office. We began dating, and I realized she was different from the other young women I had dated before. I was a carefree young man who had been brought up in another church. But I hadn’t really paid too much attention to religion.
“I had very few values or goals at that time,” he continued, “and I really didn’t care.” He leaned forward and intently confided in me. “Kjersten, your mother set the most shining example of righteous living I had ever seen.” As he said this, a warm feeling swept over me.
My dad told me details concerning their marriage, my birth, and our family that I had never before heard. He told me the story of his conversion to the Church and how because they were first married civilly, they had to wait a year before they could be sealed in the temple. He also shared with me some of the adventures he and Mom went through in that first year of marriage. For the first time, pieces to a few little puzzles fell into place. I finally understood why my parents’ marriage and sealing dates are different and why they say that the first year of their marriage was the hardest they ever had.
As he related these things to me, his eyes would sometimes flicker with sadness and other times crinkle with laughter. I don’t remember exactly how much I understood back then, but I distinctly remember the feelings of surprise, confusion, and love that alternately came over me.
This experience really made an impact on me. I realized what a miracle families are, and it gave me a greater understanding of God’s plan. I also gained a greater faith in the gospel and an appreciation for the effects it can have on people’s lives. We discussed many things on that mountain, but there is one thing I will not forget. I have never felt so much gratitude and thankfulness in my heart as I did when my father told me of his strong love for God, the gospel, my mother, and our family. I realized the numerous ways the gospel had touched his life, as well as mine.
My father and I became very close that day. For the first time, I saw him as a real person with feelings and emotions and not just some ruling body who had to give me permission to have fun. I also think my dad learned more about me too. I will never forget that special talk with my dad and the feelings of love and understanding we shared.

“Race you to the river!” Jimmy shouted to his nine-year-old twin. Charlie’s legs pumped as hard as he could make them go, but Jimmy’s light, springy bounds took him to the oak seconds ahead of his brother. “Hi!” He grinned. “Where’ve you been?”
“You always win,” Charlie pouted. “I can beat anyone else, but never you.”
Summer vacation had begun, that year of 1898, and the Thorpe boys were happy to be back on the Oklahoma ranch. The Thorpes were Sac-Fox Indians, and their home was a cozy log cabin twenty miles from the reservation.
The twins delighted their father, Hiram, who watched them wrestle, jump, and run, always winning the contests that the Indians liked to hold. Mr. Thorpe himself was never defeated, and the boys hoped to be just like him when they grew up.
Their parents told them legends of the Sac-Fox tribe. Best of all they liked the stories of the great chief Black Hawk, their great-grandfather. “You can become great braves in a different way,” Mr. Thorpe said. “You can prove that you have courage and skill. You can study in school so that you can take your place in the world. You can prepare yourselves to be winners in the things you do best.”
“What if we lose?” Charlie asked.
“Like Black Hawk did at last, my son? You must lose with honor, as he did.”
That night, Charlie whispered, “Did I lose that race with honor today, Jimmy?”
“Sure. You always do.”
“Sometimes I get mad when I can’t ever beat you,” Charlie admitted, “and I forget about being like Black Hawk.”
Jimmy hadn’t realized that his brother cared so much. “Maybe I run best,” he told Charlie, “but you are best at school. Someday you could even be a teacher.”
“Maybe so.” Charlie began to feel better.
One day in early winter, the boys planned to go hunting with their father. Charlie was so excited that he could hardly eat the spice cake Mrs. Thorpe had made for supper. “Do you feel all right?” she asked, feeling his forehead. “Why, Hiram, he has a fever!”
Charlie had to stay home. Jimmy could see that he was shivering under his pile of blankets. “I wish you could go,” he said awkwardly. His heart was heavy, for the twins had never been separated.
“Me, too,” Charlie whispered.
In two days Mr. Thorpe brought down three deer and a small bear. The third day he loaded the gun and handed it to Jimmy. “It’s your turn, son.”
Only once had Jimmy shot the big gun at a target. Although the recoil had knocked him over, he hadn’t missed! Now they were hiding in the brush near a little stream. When a big stag came to drink, Jimmy quietly sighted along the barrel. For Charlie, he thought as he squeezed the trigger. Boooom! Jimmy reeled backward, but the deer lay on the ground.
“Good work!” his father praised him. They loaded the horses, and Mr. Thorpe shouldered two deer himself for the long hike home.
“You must be as strong as Black Hawk!”
“Your eye is keen, your thinking straight, and your speed great,” his father returned the compliment. “Already you follow the path of Black Hawk.”
Jimmy thought about his Indian name, Wa-Tho-Huck (Bright Path). He hoped that whatever his “bright path” might be, it would be honorable, like Black Hawk’s.
Mrs. Thorpe met them at the door, but in spite of the great good luck of so much meat, tears streaked her face. “It’s Charlie,” she mourned. “He had pneumonia. He’s gone.”
Blindly Jimmy turned away. How could it be time for Charlie to go to the spirit world? If only he had let Charlie beat him just one time! He felt father’s strong arms around him.
For a long time, everything reminded Jimmy of his twin. Understanding his grief, the Thorpes arranged for him to go to Haskell Indian School in Kansas. There, for the first time, he saw boys kicking a strange, point-ended ball. Other boys were hitting a small, leather-covered ball with a club, and still others were using a pole to jump over high crossbars. Jimmy tried all the new sports, and he learned to love them.
Later he went to Carlisle Indian School in Pennsylvania, where he led the football team to great victories over all the big teams in the country at that time—Yale, Harvard, Pittsburgh, Chicago, West Point, and many others. No one could run as fast, dodge as well, hit as hard, kick as high, or think as fast on the field as Jim.
He represented the United States in the Olympics in Sweden in 1912. He competed in the pentathlon, a series of five grueling contests, and the most difficult event, the decathlon, a series of ten punishing contests to select the top Olympic athlete. His decathlon score set a record that was not matched for many years!
The King of Sweden placed the victory medals around Jim’s neck and gave him his personal gift, a bronzed statue, saying, “You are the greatest athlete in the world!”
But heartbreak was ahead. His Olympic medals were taken away when it was learned that he had once been paid a few dollars for playing baseball. Jim hadn’t known that it would disqualify him for the Olympics. In 1982, thirty-nine years after his death, the honors were restored to his name.
Jim played professional baseball and football, and in 1950 he was named the greatest male athlete of the half-century. To many, he is considered the greatest male athlete of all time. A town in Pennsylvania changed its name to “Jim Thorpe” in his honor, and a movie was made about his life. Truly Jim Thorpe had followed the bright path set by Black Hawk; he had won at all the things he did best.

In the mid-1980s, my husband and I were newly married and getting ready to move away to law school. We were worried about having enough money to make the move. We had always been self-reliant and did not want to ask our families for help, and the amount we needed was large. We had been praying about what to do. Out of the blue, I was commissioned to do a large art project for the college we attended. It would pay exactly what we needed. This experience was a direct blessing of paying tithing. But it was also something more. The Lord blessed me with the opportunity to work for that money. He gave me a way to earn it myself, and He honored my agency. I could have turned down the offer. I had a full-time job and a major Church calling, but I made the time and completed the project. We paid our own way to move.

President David O. McKay (1873–1970) often related an account that occurred while he was a missionary serving in Scotland. He was feeling homesick after being in the mission for just a short time and spent a few hours sightseeing at nearby Stirling Castle. When he and his companion returned from visiting the castle, they passed a building where the stone above the door had a carved inscription of a quotation, usually attributed to Shakespeare, that read, “What-E’er Thou Art, Act Well Thy Part.”
Recalling this experience, President McKay explained: “I said to myself, or the Spirit within me, ‘You are a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. More than that, you are here as a representative of the Lord Jesus Christ. You accepted the responsibility as a representative of the Church.’ Then I thought [about] what we had done that forenoon. We had been sightseeing; we had gained historical instruction and information, it is true, and I was thrilled with it. … However, that was not missionary work. … I accepted the message given to me on that stone, and from that moment we tried to do our part as missionaries in Scotland.”1
This message was so important and had such an impact on him that President McKay used it as inspiration for the rest of his life. He determined that whatever responsibility he had, he would do his very best.