Gospel Story Finder

It was the end of the assembly on Joseph Smith at our seminary, and our teachers had left the last 15 minutes for testimonies. I knew I had felt something during the program, and I realized I had to go up and bear my testimony even though I wasn’t sure if I had one.
I had recently turned 15, and I was questioning everything. I had prayed and read my scriptures, but the answer hadn’t yet come. I began to think Heavenly Father had abandoned me. I didn’t know if it was right to bear a testimony I wasn’t sure I had.
But as soon as I got up there, peace came over me, and I realized that I did know. I knew Christ was my Savior, I knew that Joseph Smith was a prophet, and I knew Heavenly Father was there, listening. I began crying for joy. Heavenly Father hadn’t abandoned me, and He had answered my prayer through my own testimony.
I know that if I live the gospel and do my best, then I will never lose that glorious feeling of knowing what I’m doing is right.

The youth of the Dublin (California) Ward and the Pleasanton Second Ward had to move quickly. With just three days’ notice from Children’s Hospital in Oakland, California, they pulled together a group to put on a party for all the cardiology patients and their families.
The youth manned refreshment tables, a popcorn machine, face-painting booths, and the check-in table. They also gave instruction in ’50s style dancing.
“It was so fun to watch the kids learn that dance,” says Jessica Cooper. “Every single one of them was smiling. It really made me feel good.”
“I’m not sure who had more fun,” says Beth Patterson, “us or the kids!”

I remember a personal experience that helped me learn to replace doubt with hope. I was serving as a stake president at the time. My children were small. My wife and I owned a tortilla-making business, and we worked long hours.

One of those nights, when my wife and I had to make tortillas from midnight until 3:00 a.m., three young men came to our shop. All three were high on drugs. Two of them wore ski masks and long raincoats. The raincoats hid their weapons. They threatened us, put us inside the shop, and closed the door. One stood guard outside, repeatedly shouting, “Kill them! Kill them!”

One of the young men put the barrel of his gun against my temple and forced me to lie down. The other put the barrel of his gun to my wife’s chest. I prayed that my children would not become orphans, and the Lord protected us. The robbers finally locked us in the bathroom and disappeared, driving away in my truck.

We escaped and called for help. The police came and so did my brother. As soon as possible, we took my wife home. Then my brother and I went looking, unsuccessfully, for my truck. Feeling very sad, I returned home at 5:00 a.m.

To my surprise, my wife and children were not there. A neighbor told me that my four-year-old daughter was suffering stomach pain, and they had rushed her to the hospital. Knowing that we would desperately need money for her care, I felt I had no choice but to return to the tortilla shop and fill the orders for the day. Since my wife and I were the only workers, I was alone, rushing like crazy, kneading, putting dough in the hopper, adjusting the size, running back and forth to finish tortillas and wait on customers.

By now it was 8:00 a.m. I began to reflect on the events of the night. The question went through my mind, “If you are the stake president, why is all this happening to you?”

I pushed the malicious thought aside and prayed for strength. Then I heard a voice behind me: “President.” It was my bishop and a brother from the ward, my home teachers.

The bishop said, “We don’t know how to make tortillas, so we can’t help you here. But don’t worry about your truck, your wife, your sick daughter, or your other children. You stay here and we will help you with the rest.” My eyes filled with tears of gratitude.

They took charge of everything but tortillas. That afternoon when I returned home, I found my house clean and tidy, my shirts ironed, and food waiting for me. No one was home, but I knew that the Relief Society had been there. The police had found my truck, and someone from the ward had paid to get it released.

I quickly went to see my wife and daughter. The bishop had been there and had given my daughter a blessing. She had appendicitis, but everything was under control.

As my wife and I talked, we were impressed that the bishop had not used fast offerings or items from the bishops’ storehouse to assist us. Rather, he used the resources and mercy of the members of our ward.

A few days later, while my daughter was recuperating and my wife was helping me in the tortilla shop, three women arrived. They were the mothers of the young thieves and had come to offer their apologies. They explained that the police had caught their sons. Later these mothers practically dragged their sons into the shop to ask forgiveness, and we forgave them.

When we think of the Prophet Joseph Smith we recognize that he was a man who possessed many great attributes. Courage was certainly one of these. Even at the tender age of seven, he would not take counsel from his fears. He had contracted typhus, from which he developed a fever sore that settled into his left leg. To save his leg, doctors cut a deep incision and removed several pieces of affected bone. There was, of course, no anesthetic available at that time, and already the seeds of greatness were sprouting as the brave young Joseph endured this excruciating operation with only the comfort he could draw from his father holding him.

Sister Kearon and I have a particular sensitivity and great compassion for Israel and Elizabeth. Our first child, a boy named Sean, died during heart surgery when he was just three weeks old. This was an earth-shattering loss for us. At the time, we wondered if we could survive. We buried him in a painfully small grave in England. Fifteen years later, our family was asked to move from our home in the United Kingdom to serve full time in the Church, and we left that little grave behind.
We didn’t lose our baby on the trek west, and we didn’t suffer the incomprehensible hardships of the Barlows, but we have the beginning of an understanding of what they went through. Our baby boy’s grave is very far away, yet like the Barlows, we have abiding faith in the Resurrection of Jesus Christ and the eternal nature of our family through the holy sealing covenant.

I was 22 years old when I faced the hardest decision I would ever make. The little blue plus sign did not seem real. I wasn’t ready to tell my family; instead, I turned to a friend. She accompanied me to a health-care unit to confirm my fears. My friend, trying to help, brought up abortion as a way to resolve my situation. She said that it could be my forever secret and that this way, I wouldn’t have to tell my family or the father of the baby.
Later, alone in my room, I thought about what my friend had said. An overwhelming feeling came, and I realized that I could not take this baby’s life away.1 I had made a choice that had led to this pregnancy, and now I needed to give this baby life so she could make her own choices.
Somehow I mustered the courage to tell my mom the news. Though disappointed in my actions, she supported me through everything. I also reached out to the father, who brought up adoption as an option. I hadn’t thought about it before then. Various choices swirled in my thoughts as my mom and I went to one of my first ultrasounds. The image on the screen showed my baby waving. In that moment, I knew that I needed to do whatever was best for my child.
I had fallen away from God for a long time, and I didn’t know if I even believed in Him anymore. But after that ultrasound, I fell to my knees and prayed, “What do I do, Father?”
My answer came slowly and softly, but at one point I shared with my mom the impression I felt: “This baby doesn’t feel like mine.” I began to look into adoption and eventually realized that this was the answer. I had felt the promise of Doctrine and Covenants 112:10: “Be thou humble; and the Lord thy God shall lead thee by the hand, and give thee answer to thy prayers.”
I once again prayed with all my heart when it was time to meet the adoptive family. The meeting went well, but additional confirmation came when my dad, who had not been fully supportive of the adoption, asked the potential adoptive family if they could really love the baby as their own. The adoptive father answered with such a strong conviction: “We are all God’s children. It doesn’t matter how our children come to us; they are ours, and we love them.” That was when everyone, including my dad, felt that this was the right thing to do.
Everything seemed to just fall into place. Their family and mine have grown to be one big family. We celebrate birthdays and holidays together and gather for Sunday dinners. Following my repentance and the strengthening of my faith, I was able to see my daughter sealed to her parents and older sister in the temple. I have seen God’s love for me as He has helped me through my struggles, and I have seen His love for my daughter in placing her with her forever family.
Making the choice was not easy, but God has strengthened me. I know “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me” (Philippians 4:13).

The activities of June Conference meant the end of a year’s work on the Mia Maid youth ad hoc committee for Margaret Anderson of the Salt Lake Foothill Stake. She and other committee members served as a sounding board by filling out questionnaires on activities and lessons and then passing surveys out to friends. “I’ve really learned about the needs of others this past year, especially the needs of other Mia Maids. June Conference gave me the opportunity to present a skit about really getting involved in the Young Women program. It’s also been a lot of fun meeting new people from all over.”

At 12 years old, I heard people talk about inappropriate things at school. Every once in a while, some of my friends thought it was funny to show me pornographic pictures. Eventually, I got curious and was tempted to explore more. I got drawn into pornography, which took up a massive part of my life for several years. It definitely affected me a lot.
I was scared to talk to someone about my struggle with pornography because I didn’t want anyone to think of me differently. When my parents caught me and confronted me about it, I was embarrassed and felt really bad and guilty. Now, I’m glad that they did, and I wish I had told them sooner. They loved me through it and helped me overcome my struggles.
My parents encouraged me to talk to my bishop. I resisted for a while, but when I finally opened up to him, he was understanding. He taught me about the process of repentance. Over time, he helped me to repent. He encouraged me to set small goals and start good habits such as praying, reading my scriptures, and filling my time with good things. These habits could invite the Spirit and help me rely on the Savior until I wouldn’t want to look at pornography anymore.
I struggled for a while, but with the help of my parents, the bishop, and the Lord, I got through it. I still get tempted sometimes, but I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am. Now I’ve been clean for over two years. I am a lot more confident now. Throughout this journey, I have learned several important things.
In For the Strength of Youth: A Guide for Making Choices I learned that our bodies are sacred. No matter what you look like or how others may perceive you, your body is in the image of God.
Doctrine and Covenants 130:22 teaches that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ have bodies of flesh and bones, but the Holy Ghost does not. Like a temple, our bodies are also “a place where the Spirit can dwell.” We need to take care of them. I want to respect my body by keeping it clean, healthy, and worthy of having the Spirit abide with me.
I’ve also learned that sexual feelings are sacred. They are not a sin. It’s when we intentionally try to arouse them outside of marriage or act on them inappropriately that they become sinful. God wants us to have happy lives and families that we can be with forever. Sexual feelings are an important part of God’s plan. The For the Strength of Youth guide taught me that you can’t respect your body if you don’t respect those feelings.
I love music. I love to sing and listen to uplifting music like the hymns and StrivetoBe songs that help me feel the Spirit. One of my favorites is “I Can Do All Things.” This song reminds me that “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me” (Philippians 4:13).
Jesus Christ is my rock. He is my light. He is my Savior and Redeemer and so much more. He loves and cares for us. He wants us to succeed and do our best. He will help us no matter what. This is comforting to me because I have a lot of flaws. It is wonderful that someone so amazing loves me so much. I’m trying the best I can to be like Him—for Him.
It doesn’t matter what you may be going through or how many times you fail or fall. As you rely on the Savior and His Atonement, He will always pick you up and carry you to the finish line. I know I was only able to overcome my struggle with pornography with His help. With Jesus Christ, you really can get through anything.
The author lives in Georgia, USA.

I went to Baur Dee’s house often that summer. I felt so comfortable sharing my thoughts and feelings with her. One time the conversation turned to serious subjects. In a quiet, rather hesitant voice she told me that she had an incurable kidney disease that would take her life. Although I was concerned, I didn’t really comprehend what she was telling me. However, in a matter of months, she was gone. She was 27 years old.
After the funeral, as we girls stood somberly around the open grave at the cemetery, we promised each other that we would visit Baur Dee’s final resting place together every Memorial Day and that we would never, ever allow her memory to die.
Each Memorial Day for many years we dragged ourselves out of bed before it was light, gathered flowers, attached a card that said, “To Baur Dee, from your girls,” and made our way to the cemetery. We often speculated about whether the members of Baur Dee’s family ever noticed the flowers and note and wondered who we were.
Gradually, some of us went away to college, some married and moved away, until only a few of us made the annual trek. Eventually I found myself going alone and from then on did so, always tying a note to the flowers, a note which read, “To Baur Dee, from her girls.”

When stake missionary Paul Stanfield of the Lakeland Ward, Tampa Florida Stake, travels on speaking assignments as part of his calling as a seventy, he often invites a guest speaker to come with him. The guest is his son Rod, 17, who shares some of his missionary experiences as the only LDS teenager at Kathleen High School.
Participating alongside his parents isn’t a new experience for Rod, who, beginning at age seven, got up at 6:00 A.M. every Sunday for two and one-half years to attend stake missionary meetings with his mother and father, and who placed figures on a flannel board as his parents taught missionary lessons in their home.
“I want to let young people know how great the Church is,” Rod says. “I want them to know they can be proud of it, that they can get along without the bad things a lot of kids think they need to have fun.”
Rod’s commitment is apparently evident to his classmates, who elected him school chaplain. “It’s an office in the student council,” Rod explains. “I help to provide a moral voice for school officers and can also counsel students who come to me for help or advice.”
It isn’t hard for the other students to recognize the chaplain; he’s active in many other school activities as well. These have included playing defensive end on the varsity football team for the past three years (he’s the team member who makes a point about not swearing and the one for whom the coach made sure there was root beer in the locker room cola machine). He attended Florida Boys’ State and was one of 17 finalists out of 600 Florida applicants for Boys’ Nation. He was one of 12 high school students on a panel for the local chapter of Women for Responsible Legislation, a movement to combat the Equal Rights Amendment. He’s the president of the National Honor Society in his school, vice-president of the art club, a member of the lettermen’s club, and the one who presented a paper about Joseph Smith’s accomplishments as his English class project.
Rod’s post-high school plans include a full-time mission and then continuing his education at BYU.

Heidi Tuttle, now Heidi Kim, says her perspective has changed tremendously in 15 years.

“When I was 17, I didn’t see the whole picture,” she says as her toddler son, Kennan, dashes by in red overalls. She scoops him up and kisses the top of his head as he squirms away.

“After my mission to Korea and getting married, I realized the gospel and my family are what’s most important,” Heidi says, as she looks proudly at her husband who is singing Kennan a special song in Korean.

Outside, the typhoon was raging. But inside, there was a calm, peaceful spirit.
Gathered in their small Philippine home in December 1987, the Paronda family was kneeling in prayer. Brother Ruben Paronda, normally soft-spoken, had to raise his voice almost to a shout as he prayed. Even so, his wife, Nelly, and their children had to strain to hear his words above the pounding rain and the relentless howling of the wind. The prayer was filled with pleadings to the Lord to calm the storm.
The town of Tigaon, Camarines Sur, Philippines, is in the typhoon belt—and the Paronda family has seen many storms. But this time they were more desperate than ever for the storm to stop. It was keeping them from traveling to Manila to be sealed in the temple. And this was the second time their temple trip was being threatened.
Eleven months after the jeepney accident, they had finally saved enough money again to make the trip. Then the typhoon hit! Their home and store were spared, but their crops were destroyed. Streets were flooded, and travel was impossible.
Surrounded by chaos, they still felt that their most urgent need was to get to the temple immediately. “We were in a hurry to be sealed,” explains Brother Paronda. Unfortunately, in only two or three days the temple would close for several weeks.
Finally, during the night at the height of the storm, the family knelt in prayer. “We asked the Lord to stop the storm so we could go,” says Brother Paronda. “Heavenly Father answered our prayer. The storm stopped during the night, and we had good weather for our journey.”
The next day, they rented a jeepney (their own was still not in running condition), and Brother and Sister Paronda and the eight children crowded inside for the fifteen-hour trip. After driving through the night, they arrived at the temple the day before it was to close. Immediately they changed into white clothes, and everyone who was old enough (father, mother, and six children) received the temple endowment.
Then the parents were sealed to each other, and the children were sealed to them—including their son Alan who had died twelve years earlier as an eight-month-old baby. “Even though Alan isn’t living with us at this time,” says Marilyn, “we know that someday we will be together again. He is still a part of our family.”
“I am so grateful,” says Sister Nelly Paronda, “that my whole family can now be together forever.”
When they left the temple that day, it was late. And they had had no rest from their journey. “But we did not feel tired or hungry,” says Marilyn. “We felt very happy that the Lord had answered our prayers.”
The following day, they attended the temple again. Later, the oldest son, Noel, was sealed in the temple with his wife and children. And family members have returned to do ordinance work for grandparents and great-grandparents.

Jared walked home from church in the hot sunshine with Mom and Dad. He thought about his Primary lesson. Since he couldn’t hear very well, Jared had to pay close attention to the pictures his teacher showed and the words she wrote on the board.
That day they had learned that Jesus asked the disciples to be missionaries. Jared wondered what he could do to share the gospel, like Jesus asked. He knew he couldn’t serve a mission yet. Then he had a great idea. Maybe he could start saving money for it!
When he got home, Jared ran right past Umber, his pet goat, and into the house. He got a big plastic jar and carefully cut a hole in the top. He wrote “Mission Fund” on the side. Then he went to his room and got his money from under his bed. One by one he dropped in each coin. But all his coins barely covered the bottom of the jar. How could he earn more money?
Jared thought and thought. He looked out the window at the bright sun. It was so hot in the Philippines. Jared and his friends ate coconut ice candy almost every afternoon after school. That’s it! he thought. Maybe he could make ice candy and sell it to other people who wanted to cool off.
Jared ran to find Mom. “Can you show me how to make ice candy?” Jared signed. They used sign language, a language where you talk with your hands. Mom smiled and nodded.
The next day, Jared and Mom walked to the big outdoor market and bought all the supplies. When they got home, Jared took out a big bowl and mixed coconut milk, condensed milk, vanilla, and shredded coconut. Mom and Jared used a funnel to pour the mix into small bags. They put all the bags in the freezer. “Great job!” Mom signed.
The ice candy took a long time to freeze. But the next day after school, it was finally ready! Jared climbed on a chair and got the white cooler off the top of the fridge. He put some towels in the bottom of the cooler and layered the ice candy on top. He couldn’t wait to sell it.
Jared ran outside into the dusty street. His friends were playing with homemade kites and throwing their flip-flops at a tin can to knock it over.
At the side of the road, he set up a table with a big sign that said, “Ice Candy, 5 pesos.” His friend Angelo ran over and pointed at the cooler. He gave Jared a five-peso coin, and Jared gave him some ice candy. They high-fived.
Soon more of Jared’s friends came to buy ice candy too. A few hours later when Mom called Jared for dinner, there were only a few ice candies left.
Jared picked up the cooler and the coins. In one of his pockets, he put some of the coins for his tithing. He put the rest of the coins into his other pocket. He couldn’t wait to see his mission-fund bank fill up.
At home he dropped his mission-fund coins onto the pile at the bottom of the jar. There was still so much more space! But Jared felt warm inside as he thought about serving a mission someday. He decided that he would keep selling ice candy until his jar was full. And in the meantime, he could find other ways to get ready to be a missionary, like Jesus asked him to do.

In a little Mormon town like Whitney, religion was in the very air everyone breathed. It was the center of the community’s existence. “Father and Mother taught their family complete devotion to the Church and full integrity in the payment of their tithes and offerings,” President Benson declares. He often recounts the time when his father had to choose between paying his tithing or a $50 debt. He paid the tithing, and almost immediately received an unexpected offer of $50 for a hay lifting tackle he had built.

Contrast this woman with the Latter-day Saint girl who climbed the heights of self-control as she forgave the man who disfigured her lovely face. Let the United Press newsman, Neal Corbett, tell the story as it appeared in the pages of the San Francisco newspapers.

“‘I would think he must be suffering, anybody who’s like that, we ought to feel sorry for him,’ said April Aaron of the man who had sent her to a hospital for three weeks, following a brutal … knife attack. April Aaron is a devout Mormon, 22 years of age. … She is a secretary who is as pretty as her name, but her face has just one blemish—the right eye is missing … April lost it to the ‘wildly slashing knife of a purse snatcher,’ near San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park while en route to an MIA dance. … She also suffered deep slashes on her left arm and right leg during a struggle with her assailant, after she tripped and fell in her efforts to elude him just one block from the Mormon chapel. …

“‘I ran for a block and a half before he caught me. You can’t run very fast on high heels,’ April said with a smile. Slashes on her leg were so severe [that] doctors feared for a time it would need amputation. The sharp edge of the weapon could damage neither April’s vivaciousness, nor her compassion. ‘… I wish that somebody could do something for him, to help him. He should have some treatment. Who knows what leads a person to do a thing like this? If they don’t find him, he’s likely to do it again.’

“… April Aaron has won the hearts of the people in the San Francisco Bay area with her courage and good spirit in face of tragedy. Her room at St. Francis hospital was banked with flowers throughout her stay and attendants said they couldn’t recall when anyone received more cards and expressions of good wishes.” (Cited in The Miracle of Forgiveness, p. 294.)

Our guinea pig was Christy. When Christy was two years old, a little girl in our town was kidnapped. Trying to be wise parents, we spent a lot of time role-playing with Christy what she should do if approached by a stranger. We even showed her pictures of the kidnapped girl and reminded Christy what had happened in the case.

Our efforts had mixed results. Christy was never kidnapped, but she was also unable to sleep alone for three months.

As he plows his farm today, Paulo still tries to plant gospel seeds by singing hymns for his neighbors, and he still travels 40 kilometers to church in Guarapuava. But now he travels with Rita and their son, Saulo, at his side, and rather than leave early Sunday morning, they take the last bus of the week late Friday night. After spending the weekend associating with the Saints and attending Sunday meetings, they return by bus to the farm on Monday morning—happy to have gone where the Lord would have them go.

Growing up with muscular dystrophy, I had serious doubts about whether having a family would ever happen for me. Would I find someone who could see past my disability? And if I did, what kind of father would I be? I hoped for life as a husband and father; I just didn’t know if I would get it.
And then it happened: marriage, followed two years later by the wonderful news that we were having a baby. A year and a half later, more great news came: a second child was on the way.
And just like that, I was married with two kids—daughters, no less, which was crazy because even when I dared dream of having a family, for some reason I always pictured sons—yet further proof that I had no clue of what lay ahead of me.
But I “trust[ed] in the Lord with all [my] heart” (Proverbs 3:5). Put differently, I rolled with it.
I rolled with it when my sweetheart, Casey, went into labor and said, “It’s time,” and I about passed out. I rolled with it when the nurse held our brand-new baby girl in front of me and said, “She’s yours now,” and I gave Isabelle a kiss on the forehead. I rolled with it and shaved my facial hair when my scratchy kisses made her cry. And I even rolled with it when, while I was holding her on my lap, her dirty diaper gave out—fatherhood can be messy.
Being able to roll with it—to adapt—has been a key to any successes I’ve had as a dad and in life. I’ve gone from crawling to walking to running to getting weaker to slowing down to losing the ability to walk and using a wheelchair. At each phase, to make it work I’ve had to adapt to my circumstances and play to the abilities Heavenly Father has given me. It’s an important part of fatherhood.
Turns out, without even knowing it, I’ve been training to be a great dad my whole life!
We Are All in the Process
“You see, we’re all on a journey. … We are all in the process of becoming who we will one day be. Fathers and [children] can play a critical role in helping each other become the best that they can be.”
President M. Russell Ballard, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, “Fathers and Sons: A Remarkable Relationship,” Liahona, Nov. 2009, 47.
Why do I know so much about lambs, dolphins, mermaids, dolls, book characters, cross-country running, and musicals? Because those are the things my youngest daughter, Sammy, has been interested in over the past 14 years! Find out what your kids are into and get into it too.
President M. Russell Ballard, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, said, “Find your own best way to connect,” creating a one-on-one relationship with each child as part of our fatherly stewardship. 1
I’ve never tossed my girls in the air. I’ve never pushed them on a swing, jumped into a pool with them, or spotted them in the gym.
But they’ve screamed for joy on the back of my wheelchair as I did wheelies through our neighborhood, climbed me like a ladder to reach goodies on the top shelf, and enjoyed incredible front-row parking with me their entire lives.
We all have different abilities. Figure out what you can do with your kids and then do it!
Being a dad has been and continues to be the joy of my life.
My girls have an amazing understanding of my physical limitations. We’ve never really had to detail what Daddy can or cannot physically do. They’ve always just seemed to know. Even when they were toddlers, I would ask them to grab something for me, and they’d place it right in my hand. When Casey would ask for something, they’d toss it to her or hold it near her so she’d have to reach out for it.
Being a dad has been and continues to be the joy of my life.
When I’m being the best version of myself, I love my girls the way God loves them—personally and completely. But I’m not perfect. When I’m not centered in God’s love, patience wanes, tempers flare, and feelings get hurt. Like I said before, I’m a work in progress.
Dads come from all walks of life and have different strengths and weaknesses. But thanks to the love, grace, and mercies of an all-loving Heavenly Father and our Savior, Jesus Christ, we can all be empowered to be exactly who and what our children need us to be.
I know our Heavenly Father will endow each of us with the strength needed to be the best dad we can be. When we seek His help and direction, blessings will follow and, come what may, we’ll have the ability to roll with it.

Eight-year-old Emily bit her lip as a smiling missionary handed her a small card with a picture of the scriptures on it. The missionaries were visiting Primary this week and handing out pass-along cards to all of the children.
“We want to give you a challenge,” the missionary said. “We want you to share the gospel with a friend. Think of someone you want to share your happiness with, then give the person one of these cards and talk about it.”
“Tell a friend about the gospel?” Emily thought. The idea made her nervous. Did she know anyone who would really listen? She wasn’t sure about that, but she did know someone who would make a wonderful Latter-day Saint—her best friend, Alyssa. She looked down at the card. What would Alyssa say if she gave it to her? Would she think it was strange? Would she laugh? Emily tucked the card inside her scriptures. She loved her friend and she loved the gospel, but she didn’t know if she was brave enough to accept the missionaries’ challenge. It seemed too hard and scary.
The next weekend Emily got all her jobs done early so that she could invite Alyssa over. She couldn’t wait to play their favorite game—Cannonball—which they had invented themselves. They piled up all the blankets and pillows they could find, then leaped into the pile, yelling “Cannonball!”
When they began to pile up the blankets again, Emily’s little brother and sister joined in, helping to make the pile bigger.
“Can we play, too?” her brother asked.
At first, Emily was annoyed. She wanted to play the game with just Alyssa. But then she realized that everyone would be happier if they all played together.
“Sure,” Emily said.
When they were tired out from Cannonball, they all pretended to be deep-sea explorers in a submarine.
“This is so fun!” Alyssa said.
Soon Emily’s brother and sister went outside. Emily took Alyssa to her room and played a new CD of really pretty Church music. Alyssa loved it. She even began to sing along with the chorus of one song. Hearing Alyssa sing about the gospel made Emily happy.
“Time for lunch,” Emily’s mom called. All the children ran to the table, and Emily’s brother reached for a slice of bread.
“Not yet,” Emily’s mom said. “Time for prayer.”
“I’ll say it,” Emily volunteered. Alyssa watched Emily and folded her arms like she did.
After lunch Emily and Alyssa went outside to play on the swings. Emily couldn’t believe it when she saw Alyssa’s mom coming to pick up her daughter. Time went by too quickly when she was having fun with her friend. She said good-bye and went back inside to help her mom.
That night as she opened her scriptures, Emily saw the card. Oh no! She had forgotten the missionaries’ challenge. She had spent the entire day with her friend and hadn’t said one thing about the gospel.
Her mother poked her head through Emily’s doorway, smiling. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”
Emily looked up, surprised. “What for?”
Her mother came in and sat down on the bed. “For sharing the gospel with your friend today.”
Emily shook her head. “But Mom, I didn’t say anything about the gospel.”
“Yes, you did,” her mother said. “When you played with your brother and sister, you taught her that including others makes games fun and that we’re happy when we’re kind to our family.”
Emily thought about it.
“And,” her mother added, “you taught her gospel principles when you shared your Church music with her. You showed her how to pray when you blessed the food at lunchtime.”
Slowly, Emily smiled. It was true. She had shared the gospel with her friend—not with words, but with actions. She thought of how glad she felt when she heard Alyssa singing about being a child of God. Maybe someday Alyssa would remember those words and want to know more. Suddenly Emily felt very happy. She couldn’t wait to go to Primary on Sunday and tell her teacher that it wasn’t hard to share the gospel at all.

One woman in a South American country, intrigued by the sincerity of the Mormon missionaries, invited them back to meet the family that evening. But unfortunately her husband did not share her feelings, and the young men were greeted by a note on the door turning them away. She fasted and prayed that the Lord might intercede. And you know, it was just about six weeks later that the husband told her about two fine young men he had met on the bus coming home. He arranged for them to share their message with the family, and all six were baptized. It was not until then that the wife explained that these were the same two young men whom she had tried to introduce him to earlier. “God moves in a mysterious way his wonders to perform.” (See Hymns, no. 48.)