Gospel Story Finder

While serving as a mission president, I came home once to general conference. It’s always very dangerous for a mission president to leave his mission—I don’t recommend that. While I was away, four of my missionaries had decided that a sister was too good for her husband, and they had counseled her to divorce him and leave him. That’s right. A missionary, you see, is called to preach the gospel by the Spirit, and he has great responsibility with respect to nonmembers. But when it comes to membership in the Church, we have branch presidents and bishops who are called, ordained, and set apart by the Lord to give this kind of direction and guidance. I would even be concerned about a bishop who would counsel a wife to leave her husband. I transferred those missionaries, got them as far from this situation as I could as quickly as I could. Then it took a month before I was able to get the husband and wife back together again! It worked out all right. They are still corresponding with me even now, so I think it’s going to work out pretty well. But when we get out of our areas of assignment, we get into trouble. It makes no difference who you are.

How did it come to be that with all the construction of new buildings in the last few years, this perfect site is still open and still available? Here is the story:
When the President’s Council considered the location for what are now the Hinckley and the Ricks Buildings, there was a good bit of lobbying and a lot of logic behind building both of those buildings on the field where the auditorium will stand. It made all the sense in the world to put those new academic buildings right in the academic core of the campus. But President Bednar and the other members of the President’s Council were not settled in their minds. They decided to take a walk. As they looked at the field and visited sites up on the hill, the strong impression came that the new buildings should be built up on the south end of campus and that the field should be left empty. And so, long before the temple was announced, long before we knew anything about an auditorium, the hand of the Lord protected this site and extended the campus in the direction of what would be the Rexburg Temple.

When triplet brothers Ryan S., Trent, and Nathan all received their mission calls on the same day, they could barely contain their excitement. And then things really got exciting.
All three brothers were called to serve in the same city—Mexico City, Mexico—albeit in three different missions there. Their friendships with one another have only deepened now that they’re in the mission field. “We continue to be a strength to each other,” says Ryan.
The brothers had a chance to meet up when their missions came together for a special meeting with Elder Russell M. Nelson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. “We’re progressing together stronger than ever before,” says Ryan.

This question came into focus for me almost exactly one year ago when my son Jeremy and I were traveling from Avignon in the south of France to Rome, and we made the mistake of taking a night train. When we arrived in Rome we realized that an American gentleman with whom we had been sharing a train compartment had stolen several hundred dollars from Jeremy during the night.

And so as we walked around the Eternal City, viewing the marvels of classical and Renaissance Rome, this issue occupied our thoughts and conversation a bit. For a few days Jeremy strongly suspected that the world and the people in it were essentially evil and that his earlier experiences with good people and good things had just been exceptions that prove the rule. (Of course I don’t want to trivialize the problem of evil. After our visits to Mauthausen, the Reichstag in Berlin, and seeing the aftermath of Communism in East Germany, we know there is plenty of real evil in the world, not just petty thievery.)

Gradually, however, as we encountered more and more wonderful people and more and more evidence of the existence of wonderful people in earlier generations, Jeremy decided—I hope permanently—that the world is essentially good but that there’s a whopping amount of evil in it and you have to be just a little bit careful about where you leave your valuables!

Allow me to share with you a sweet story from the writings of Elder Vaughn J. Featherstone, one of my brethren in the Quorum of Seventy and a man who has been my counselor in the Young Men presidency and a friend for many years. He wrote:

I made a decision not to tell anyone of my mother’s death as my feelings were especially tender, humble, and close to the surface. I met all day Saturday with the stake leaders and members. After the last meeting, which ended at 9:00 at night, the mission president came to me and asked me to interview a missionary. We met with the missionary, who had been involved inappropriately with a nonmember woman. He had not committed a major transgression but had crossed over the line of propriety. Her husband was offended, and the woman was upset. They no longer had any interest in the Church. The president had counseled the young elder at length. He told me that the elder would not admit he was wrong and would not even say he was sorry. The General Authorities in Salt Lake City had been involved, and I was to make a determination while I was in Florida as to whether or not he could stay in the mission field. I was tender anyway, and I thought that if he would just say he was sorry, I would let him stay. I used every skill I had learned and all the inspiration I could draw upon trying to get him to say he was sorry. He would not. Finally, he promised he would not do it again, but he would not say he was sorry, even though he wanted to stay on his mission.

I said, “Let me ask you two more questions before I make a decision.” I had about decided he would have to go home, and the questions were simply a last-minute stall before I announced my feelings. I said, “What does your father do in the Church?” He responded that his father was inactive, that he fished, hunted, or sat in front of the television all day long on Sundays. His father did not want him to be on a mission; he wanted him to come home and would have been glad if he did. His father smoked and drank, and, as the elder described him, I realized there was no support from the father. I said, “Tell me about your mother; what does she do in the Church?” His face softened, his eyes moistened, and he responded, “She is the stake young women’s president.” Then he talked about her for a few minutes. When he finished, I said, “I am going to let you stay, but you don’t deserve to. However, your mother doesn’t deserve to have you come home dishonored. You are probably about the only joy she has in this life. I imagine every letter you write to her she reads over and over again. I imagine that she takes your letters as she goes around the stake and reads them to the Beehives, Mia Maids, and Laurels. Her whole pride and joy must be centered around you. She doesn’t have much at home, and I couldn’t bear the thought of having this woman have to go to the airport and pick up her son who had been dishonorably released from his mission.” Then the emotion came, and with tears I reaffirmed, “I simply could not do that to your mother. You do not deserve to stay, but she does not deserve one more trial.” He thanked me for letting him stay but still would not say he was sorry.

The next day at the close of the final session of the conference, I said, “I apologize if I have been a little tender and emotional. My mother died Thursday night, and the funeral is tomorrow.” Then I shared for the next fifteen or twenty minutes what she had meant in our lives. I said, “I will miss the viewing tonight, but I will arrive back in Salt Lake by 1:00 a.m. or so and will be able to attend the funeral.” It was an emotional time for me as I shared my innermost feelings.

At the close of the conference, this young elder whom I had interviewed came running up to the stand. With great tears on his cheeks, he threw his arms around me and shuddered with emotion. Then he said, “Now I know why you are letting me stay; it is not only because of my mother but also because of yours.” I said, “You’re right, I suppose it’s because of my mother also.” He said, “I humbly apologize for what I have done. I truly am sorry, and I promise I will be the best missionary in this mission.” Later his mission president told me he was true to his word. [Vaughn J. Featherstone, More Purity Give Me (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1991), pp. 96–99]

On April 14, 2006, my 11-year-old sister, Alexandra, died in a car accident. A few weeks later, my mom was reading to me and she started crying because she missed my sister. I hugged her and told her not to cry, that my sister would want us to be happy because she was in a happy place. Several months later, Mom began to cry again. I put my arms around her. I comforted her and told her not to cry, and that everything would be OK.
When I was baptized, my mom reminded me that I made a covenant with Heavenly Father. In Mosiah 18:8–9 it says we need to be “willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light; Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort.” I’m grateful I was baptized and could be there to comfort and help my mom.

Another couple recently served in a small village south of Santiago, Chile. They had no Spanish skills and were apprehensive about being in a different country so far from the comforts of home. But they plunged in with total dedication, loving and serving the people. Before long, the small branch grew from 12 to 75 members. When it came time for them to leave, the entire branch rented a bus so they could go to the airport, four hours away, and say good-bye to their special friends.

As believers, we have great need for courage in these times, even in our experiences with ministering. John (names have been changed) was assigned to minister to Peter, a member who had never attended ward meetings. John was apprehensive about approaching Peter, since he hadn’t met him and didn’t know his story. But remembering the counsel to “love, share, and invite,” John prayed for guidance and then set out to first become sincere friends with Peter. He spent time getting to know Peter, with frequent visits, phone calls, and an occasional outing for breakfast. John grew to know Peter well, and Peter gained trust in their friendship. When he needed help, it was natural for him to reach out to John, who gladly responded.
One day, John felt impressed that perhaps Peter was ready for an invitation to come back to church. During one of their visits, he brought up the idea in a natural way. Peter paused. “I haven’t been to church in 17 years,” he said. “But you know, I think I will.” When Peter arrived at the ward, John was there to welcome him and sit with him. John felt grateful he was able to get over his initial fear. Through these efforts, both men gained a true friendship that blessed their lives.

Let me share with you the experience of Julie, a young woman who was able to face a challenge by following the promptings of the Holy Ghost. She was studying the Old Testament one day, and the thought came to her mind, "Read Matthew 5. Read Matthew 5." She thought, "Why would the thought come to me to read the New Testament?" She acted on that prompting and read in Matthew, "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you" (Matthew 5:44).
The next day she had some difficulties with her friends who were unkind and betrayed her. At first she was very upset, and then she thought, "I’ve been prepared for this. The Spirit prompted me to read Matthew, and I must love and pray for my friends." The small step of reading the scriptures prepared her to respond in a Christlike way. From that experience, she was assured that the Lord knew her, and through the promptings of the Holy Ghost, she knew what she was to do.

Take the example of Dr. Blair Bybee. After his call he received additional training in parasitology and nutrition. He was then sent to a Latter-day Saint hospital in a rural area so that he could gain experience in that situation.
Q—How long was this extra training in the rural hospital?
Dr. Mason—Two weeks.
Q—What happens when the health missionary arrives in his field of labor?
Dr. Mason—For the first five months of Elder Bybee’s mission, he performed as any other missionary would. He was a junior companion in a small village. During this time his responsibilities were divided between proselyting (70 percent) and health service (30 percent), as he learned the language and the customs of the Samoan people. Then in January he ended his preparation period and began concentrating on his specific health mission responsibilities. He was assigned by the mission president to create a health education and disease prevention program for all the Saints in Samoa. Appropriate health lessons that had been developed with the help of the BYU faculty and then translated into Samoan during the first five months of his mission were ready for use. He began conducting health seminars in conjunction with district conferences throughout the mission. He is lecturing in village after village—wherever we have a chapel—to members and nonmembers—anyone who wishes to attend—on such subjects as nutrition, alcoholism, baby care, home sanitation, the evils of tobacco, and so forth.

At church, I was called as a ward clerk and later as a counselor in the bishopric. I couldn’t believe that someone in a wheelchair could serve. My accident had made me feel useless, but working in the Church made me feel useful and helped me realize I could contribute. I love the opportunity to grow closer to Jesus Christ as I serve.
As a counselor in the bishopric, I wanted to be guided so I could be better at my calling. That made me want to prepare more for each Sunday. I got into the habit of reading my scriptures, and I had opportunities to bear my testimony. Being a leader at church even helped me become a leader at work. I built up the feeling that I could lead and speak up, allowing me to lead in other areas.
“Working in the Church made me feel useful and realize that I could contribute,” says Posenai. “I love the opportunity to grow closer to Jesus Christ as I serve.”

The second example. I had only been in the Philippines for two weeks when I was assigned to a new companion and a new area. On my first day in the new area we were accompanied by our zone leaders. We went to visit a man who had received the first two discussions several weeks before. I had never met him. When we arrived at the humble home, Brother Flores seemed disheveled. His long hair was uncombed and his eyes were bloodshot. I really believed he had a hangover or was on drugs. Nevertheless, we proceeded with our visit. We were giving the third lesson, which at the time was a review of Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon. In those days, the memorized dialogue was on one page and on the facing page were instructions to the missionaries. In this particular lesson there was a place where the missionary instructions stated, "at this point, if moved by the spirit, challenge Brother Brown to be baptized." We missionaries took turns in reciting the discussion. As I went ahead in my mind to the rest of the discussion, I could tell that my next paragraph would coincide with the "if moved by the spirit" instructions. The minute that thought came into my mind I was overwhelmed by the feeling that I should challenge Brother Flores to be baptized. I fought this feeling. I had just met him and didn't know him very well. Besides, I thought he was hungover and I should just keep my mouth shut about a baptism. I felt a swelling fullness in my chest and even though I argued with this feeling, it only became stronger. When my turn came, I could only follow that feeling.

At that time, the baptismal challenge was a two page dialogue. It was the first thing all missionaries memorized. The minute I said, "while translating the Book of Mormon, Joseph Smith and his scribe, Oliver Cowdery, were very impressed with its teachings about baptism" the other missionaries knew exactly what I was doing. The zone leader sitting next to me gave me a message with his foot and his eyes that said, "You're crazy." My poor companion was stunned. I, being overwhelmed by this powerful feeling, yet fully aware of the judgment of my fellow missionaries, could do nothing but continue with the challenge. Brother Flores said he wanted to be baptized as soon as possible.

The next two weeks were a flurry of activity. We had to teach four remaining lessons and Brother Flores had to be interviewed. The interview process went better for him than it did for me. The zone leaders who did the interview told me that they didn't think he should be baptized and that they were only going through with it because I was recommending him. One of them told me that Brother Flores' sins committed after baptism would be on my head because I was the one making a terrible mistake. By the way, I haven't found that doctrine in any gospel link search either.

To tell the truth, I don't think I experienced a fullness of joy at Brother Flores' baptism. I was too worried about compounding my sins with his sins. Yet, I also knew what I had felt and I couldn't deny the source because the feeling was too positive, too good to be anything but the Holy Ghost. Brother Flores's joy was full. He had fasted nearly two days before his baptism to, as he said, "show the Lord how much I love him and am grateful to be baptized."

After Brother Flores was baptized we taught his sister and brother. We taught his parents and he was able to baptize them. I still keep in touch with the Flores family. They are active and happy in the Church and love the Lord. The light of the gospel changed their lives. I am grateful that I had that sweet experience with them. How I love that family.

When the Holy Ghost inspires and teaches us we can rely on his wisdom. At the beginning I was measuring Brother Flores by my natural eyes and my mortality clouded my judgement of him. The Holy Ghost had to quickly teach me how the Lord was measuring Brother Flores and what the Lord wanted to have happen in that discussion. I know he will do the same with you in your lives and callings.

Leah had the jitters. That’s what Mommy and Daddy called it when she got a little scared.
Leah was a Sunbeam. Her Primary had been practicing their sacrament meeting program for the past few weeks. She had enjoyed saying her part during the practices.
But today was the real program, and she was nervous. She wanted to stay with Mommy and Daddy. She did not want to look out at all the grown-ups.
“There are too many people,” Leah whispered to Mommy.
“Do you have the jitters, Leah?” Mommy asked.
Leah nodded.
Mommy put her arm around Leah and hugged her tight. Leah sang some of the songs in her mind that she had learned for the program. She felt calmer, but she was still a little nervous.
The bishop invited the Primary children to the stand. Mommy walked with Leah up to her seat in the front. Mommy showed her that the chair had a special tag with her name on it.
When Mommy gave her a kiss and turned to leave, Leah felt full of jitters again. Then she noticed Daddy and her little brother Taylor smiling as Mommy left to sit down. Daddy gave her a little wave, and Taylor blew her a kiss.
Leah paid attention as Sister Cassidy raised her hands to tell everyone to stand up. Leah knew exactly what to do. She knew the song the pianist started to play. Leah sang as loud and as pretty as she could, just like her teachers had shown her. Soon it was her turn to say her part.
She walked to the microphone and said, “I know Heavenly Father loves me. He hears me when I say my prayers and helps me to be good.”
Leah reverently walked back to her seat. The jitters were gone.

I will always be grateful for a father and a mother who, as far back as I can remember, taught us to pay our tithing. In those days, in the ward in which we lived the bishop did not have an office in the meetinghouse. We went to his home for tithing settlement. I can still sense my feelings of trepidation as I walked into that home as a very small boy to settle my tithing with Bishop John C. Duncan. The amount may have been only twenty-five cents, since we did not have very much of an allowance in those lean times, but it was an honest 10 percent as we had figured it in our childish way, based on the little couplet that we would recite in Sunday School:
What is tithing? I will tell you every time.
Ten cents from a dollar, and a penny from a dime.
We never felt that it was a sacrifice to pay our tithing. We felt it was an obligation, that even as small children we were doing our duty as the Lord had outlined that duty, and that we were assisting his church in the great work it had to accomplish.

Illustration by Zhen Liu
Ellie and her family were going to visit their cousins who lived far away. Ellie was so excited! She hadn’t seen her cousins in a long time.
Before the trip, Ellie’s parents said they wanted to talk about something.
“When we get together with family, we always say prayers at mealtime. And sometimes we talk about church, right?” Dad asked.
“Right!” Ellie said.
“Well, things will be a little different on this trip,” Mom said. “Your aunt and uncle don’t go to church anymore. And they don’t like it when people talk to them about it.”
Ellie frowned. “Why not?”
“We don’t know all the reasons,” Dad said. “But they love us very much. I think they don’t want to argue with us or hurt our feelings. So they’ve asked us not to talk about church things with them.”
Ellie nodded.
“We can still read our scriptures and pray while we’re there. But we’ll do it in private,” Mom said.
“What about when we eat?” Ellie’s sister asked.
“Let’s wait and see,” Mom said. “If they don’t pray before we eat, we can each say a prayer in our hearts.”
“OK,” Ellie said. “I can do that!”
The next day, Ellie’s family piled into the car. They drove until late at night. When they finally got to their cousins’ house, Ellie’s aunt and uncle helped them get their bags out of the car. Then everyone went to bed.
The next morning, Ellie said a prayer before going to the kitchen for breakfast. She felt a little nervous about seeing her family. But then her aunt sat down next to her with a warm smile on her face.
“Some of us are going to your cousin’s salon later today. Want to come?” she asked Ellie.
“A hair salon?” Ellie asked.
“Yep! You and your sister can get your hair done if you want.”
Ellie smiled and nodded. That sounded fun!
After breakfast, they took a bus to the salon. Ellie loved watching her cousin work. Her fingers flew back and forth as she combed and braided. After everyone’s hair was finished, they had a pretend fashion show in front of the salon mirror and giggled at their new looks.
The next day, it was raining hard. So everyone decided to stay inside and play board games. Ellie and one of her cousins were on a team against two of the older boys. They teased each other as they raced their game pieces around the board.
“We won!” Ellie yelled as she moved her game piece to the end of the board. They all gave each other high fives—even the older cousins, who pretended to be grumpy about losing.
After only a few days, it was time to head home. As Ellie climbed in the back of her family’s car, she heard her family saying goodbye.
“We’ll miss you!”
“Come back soon!”
“We love you so much!”
Ellie smiled and waved as their car pulled away. She had had a lot of fun. Even if they believed in different things, they could still be a happy family.

A week after Bishop Stone was sustained as the new bishop, his executive secretary arranged for an interview with Kevin Blake. Kevin was about to turn 14 and needed to be interviewed about his worthiness to be ordained a teacher.
Kevin waited after church to see the bishop. He didn’t expect it would take long, so Kevin asked his family to wait for him.
“Hello, Kevin,” said the bishop. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to be interviewed to be ordained a teacher,” Kevin said.
“Oh, yes. Of course. Let me ask you a question. Do you know where we find the duties of the office of a teacher?” Bishop Stone asked.
“I don’t know. In the teachers’ manual, I guess.”
The bishop smiled and opened his scriptures and handed them to Kevin. “Read Doctrine and Covenants 20:53–54 [D&C 20:53–54], please.”
Kevin began to read. “The teacher’s duty is to watch over the church always and be with them and strengthen them; And see that there is no iniquity in the church, neither hardness with each other, neither lying, backbiting, nor evil speaking.”
“You can stop there,” Bishop Stone said. “That seems like a tough job to me. How are you going to do it?”
Kevin sighed. “Well, I know that teachers go home teaching.”
“That’s true; they do. Good answer. That does help us to watch over the Church, and be with them and strengthen them. But let me ask you another question. As a teacher, how are you going to see ‘that there is no iniquity in the church, neither hardness with each other, neither lying, backbiting, nor evil speaking’?”
Kevin was stumped. “I don’t know.”
The bishop smiled. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know either. But we both need to find out. I’d appreciate it if you’d think about it this week and then come back next Sunday and give me some of your ideas.”
On the way home, Kevin’s mother asked him how the interview had gone.
“I can’t believe it. I have to go back next week.”
His 12-year-old sister, Emily, picked up on that. “I’m not surprised,” she said.
Kevin rolled his eyes.
“Would you like to talk to your mother and me in private?” asked his dad.
“I didn’t do anything wrong. The bishop just asked me to come up with a plan about how I was going to see that there’s no backbiting or evil speaking in our ward.”
Just before they ate, Kevin’s friend Todd called to tell him about the teachers quorum activity for the week.
“I’m not a teacher yet,” said Kevin.
“No, but you will be, right?”
“I have to go back and see the bishop next week.”
There was a long pause and then Todd said, “Oh.” Todd made a quick excuse that he had to eat and hung up.
Kevin wasn’t very hungry, but he ate a little and excused himself and went to his room. A few minutes later his dad knocked on his door and asked if he could come in. He pulled a chair up to Kevin’s bed and said, “Kevin, I don’t think the bishop is down on you. I think he is just asking for your help.”
“I don’t see how I can help him,” Kevin said.
“Well, the Lord did give teachers in the Aaronic Priesthood the responsibility to see that there’s no backbiting or evil speaking. Maybe the bishop is just honoring the responsibility you have as a teacher. We have a good ward, but we’re not perfect. There is some backbiting. Not much, but some. Why not honor the bishop’s request and see what ideas you can come up with?”
Kevin reluctantly agreed to do what he could.
At first he couldn’t think of anything, but then things started to change. On Monday after family home evening, he swallowed his pride and went to Emily. “Do you ever see any backbiting or evil speaking in our ward?”
“Sometimes.”
“What causes it?”
“Not every girl comes from a family with enough money for expensive clothes. That can cause people to talk.”
“I don’t see how I can stop that,” said Kevin.
“I try to stop it,” Emily said. “Whenever anyone starts saying bad things about a girl, I try to say good things. You could do that too.”
“That’s not going to stop it.”
“It will if more people look for the positive instead of the negative.”
Kevin felt a twinge of conscience. One of the boys in the deacons quorum was Justin Evanston. Everyone else in the quorum liked sports and camping, except Justin. The boys sometimes made fun of Justin, especially when he tried to play basketball. He was uncoordinated and awkward. Kevin himself had made fun of Justin. He felt bad about it now.
At school on Monday, Kevin saw Jon Dunford in the halls. Jon lived in their ward but didn’t come anymore. He’d gotten into drugs in the seventh grade and a few months later was arrested. He spent six months in a juvenile correction facility and then came back to live at home. Kevin had seen him the first day after he got back. “I’m going to start back to church,” Jon had said.
“Right,” Kevin had replied sarcastically.
Jon came to church once but never returned. Eventually he went back to his old friends. Kevin figured it was only a matter of time before Jon would be put away again.
Kevin decided to talk to Jon.
“Jon, that time you came to church after you first got back, what was it like for you?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I just want to know.”
“Okay. I’ll tell you,” said Jon, an edge in his voice. “A lot of cold stares, a lot of whispering behind my back, and nobody my age talking to me. A lot of the adults said they were glad I was back, but nobody my age did. Not even you.”
Kevin swallowed hard. “Sorry.”
“When I first came back, I really wanted to change my life,” he sighed. “But it’s too late for that now.”
“Give us another chance,” said Kevin. “Come to church with me next time. I’ll do better.”
Jon looked at Kevin for a long time. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“Maybe sometime,” Jon said, starting to walk away.
“What about tomorrow night? We’re going to a TV studio to see how they do the news.”
Jon pursed his lips. “That doesn’t sound too bad. Maybe I’ll go.”
The next day before school Kevin found Jon in the parking lot behind the school with the guys he partied with. “Is tonight still okay?”
Jon smiled. “I’ve never seen you out here before.”
“What about tonight? We could pick you up a little before seven.”
“That’d be okay.”
When they stopped by later that night, Jon wasn’t home, but Kevin wasn’t discouraged. He’d just have to keep asking until Jon gave in and went with him.
The next Sunday after church, Kevin waited to see the bishop. He no longer felt bad that the bishop had asked him to come back; in fact he was glad. This time, when the bishop asked him what a teacher could do to see that there was no backbiting or evil speaking, Kevin had some things to say.
He could hardly wait to see the bishop.

Understanding and communicating clearly and kindly with youth are also critical, he adds. “When I was 13, I was called as the deacons quorum president. Our branch president took a few minutes to find a classroom and meet with me, out of the hallway, and tell me what I needed to do. He gave me wonderful instruction of what was expected of me, both by him and by the Lord.

“Do you know how many deacons we had in our class? Two. But he still took the time to prepare himself and prepare me. That was 50 years ago, and I still remember how it touched my heart. He wanted me to succeed. He gave his personal attention and time. He gave kind but direct instructions, and he followed up.”

At recess, I noticed that some of my friends were making fun of another girl named Chelsea. My friends were kicking her lunch box and smashing it. They called her names. I couldn’t believe that my friends were doing that. Later, I saw them doing it again, so I told them to stop it. Then I smiled at Chelsea, and we walked over to a bench and sat down. We talked and became good friends.
The other girls came back and started again. One girl said, “Let’s not be friends with Tambre anymore!” It made me so sad I started to cry. We all got called to the principal’s office to talk about the situation. The girls knew what they had done was wrong. After we got out of the office, the girls apologized to Chelsea and me. They all wrote us sorry notes. After that we all became friends!

I had a wonderful time laboring as a full-time missionary in the Hawaii Honolulu Mission. It was filled with experiences I will remember for the rest of my life. One in particular showed me how our Heavenly Father knows each of His children and their needs.
One night I was working with my district leader. We had returned to my apartment after a hard but satisfying day of proselyting and were having my monthly interview.
Following the interview, he asked me, “Would you give me a blessing?”
I was shocked, and my heart began to pound. I wasn’t used to being asked to give a blessing. I asked him why he wanted one. He confided that he was having a bit of difficulty and needed some help.
Still not knowing exactly what his concerns were, I agreed to give him a blessing. Before I laid my hands on his head, I said a silent prayer that I would be inspired to know what to say to help my missionary friend.
As I placed my hands on his head, the most amazing feeling flowed from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. I cannot remember the words I spoke, but I was the instrument through which Heavenly Father spoke to one of His sons who needed wisdom.
When I took my hands from his head, he turned to me with tears rolling down his cheeks and expressed his gratitude. What he told me next was as much a surprise as when he asked me to give him a blessing: I had spoken words that had also been pronounced in his patriarchal blessing. They provided him with the comfort he needed.
The Lord truly does know each of His children, and through the power of the priesthood, we can be instruments in blessing the lives of our brothers and sisters as we all strive to return to His presence in the celestial kingdom.

Zachary found the shiny star the Sunday before Christmas. He asked Mommy, “Where does it go?”
“I think I know,” she said. “You see if you can find where it belongs.”
Zachary looked at the Christmas tree, but the star at the top was still there. “Do you know where this star goes?” he asked Daddy.
“I think I know,” Daddy said. “You see if you can find where it belongs.”
Zachary looked at Mommy’s ears, then said to himself, “It’s too big to be one of Mommy’s earrings.”
He asked his big brother, Keith, “Do you know where this star goes?”
“I think I know,” Keith told him. “You see if you can find where it belongs.”
“OK,” Zachary said. He closed his eyes tightly and thought. But he couldn’t think where the star belonged. He went to play with the nativity scene while he waited for family home evening to start. As he tried to stand the angel on top of the stable, he had an idea.
When family home evening started, Daddy asked, “Who has something to share with us?”
“I do,” said Zachary. He put the star on top of the stable in the nativity scene. “Here is where the star goes—above Baby Jesus.”