Gospel Story Finder

It’s 7:00 P.M., and you’re on problem number four of your math homework. The first three problems have taken 20 minutes. Your sister pokes her head in the room and says, “Come on. Family home evening’s about to start.” What do you do?
If you’re Tracy Brook, 15, of the Ottawa Ontario Stake, you drop your pencil and go. She says, “When I have a lot of homework, at first I think, ‘Oh, I don’t have time for family home evening.’ But then after family night is finished, I feel a lot better.”
Why does Tracy feel this way? Because family home evening blesses her life. “It strengthens everyone’s testimony,” she says. “We get to understand more about the Church and the scriptures.”

My family moved to Salt Lake City, Utah, when I was about 11, but I didn’t join the Church until I was 24. Looking back, I can see why no one shared the gospel with me. I was not a golden contact on the surface. Actually, I was a bit of a rowdy kid. I got into fights and got into trouble at school regularly.
I had a number of LDS friends, but only one ever talked about the Church. And that was because I teased him about reading the Book of Mormon when he babysat.
I was curious about things, though. My mom took me to a local Christian church. I once asked them why Jesus hadn’t come to the Americas. They kind of laughed at me for asking such a question, so I didn’t ask anything else about it.
Years later I decided to visit the visitors’ center on Temple Square in Salt Lake City. There was a diorama on Christ in America. Suddenly I remembered my questions about that topic from my younger years. That’s when the Spirit hit me, and I knew I was ready to listen.
The example of my friends from high school stayed with me. In fact, the people I respected most were LDS. Randy Ridd and his wife both went to my school. They were always great examples, very good people. That made a big impact on me later. I thought, “If Randy believed this was real, it must be important.”
I don’t know what might have happened if they had shared more about the gospel at the time. I might not have been ready. But looking back, I wish they had. I know it would have had an impact on me.

As I was interviewing the young people in our ward as their bishop. I asked each of them: “Are you going out with anyone who is not a member of our church?”
Susan said, “I go out with Bill. We know each other very well. We’re good friends.”
“Do you know him well enough to invite him to our student ward party?” I asked.
Susan brought Bill to our party and our ward missionaries did the rest. Bill is now in the bishopric in Houston, Texas, after having served a mission for the Church. And Bill and Susan’s experience has been duplicated all over the Church.

In conclusion, let me tell you about a personal planning cycle I developed about the time that I was ending my formal education, with the hope that it will cause you to seriously reflect and plan the future. I was a little older than most when I graduated form college; a mission and World War II had slowed the process. I graduated from college just a few months before my twenty-seventh birthday. I was married, and the first child was on its way. Family responsibility has a special way of bringing a maturing process. I decided if I was to accomplish my life’s objective I needed to form a plan and review my performance regularly against the determined plan. My decision was that I would hold an annual review on each of my birthdays to evaluate my progress. On my twenty-seventh birthday my first plan was prepared. On my twenty-eighth birthday I made my first annual performance evaluation and plan revision. This I have carried out each year until the present. The plan includes the same ingredients we have discussed here tonight. First, a physical plan: it is near my birthday each year that I go to the doctor and have an annual physical examination. My plan includes some established goals for an active and restive pulse rate, a blood pressure reading, and a weight range. Annually I check my performance in my physical plan.

My physical plan also includes a financial plan. I wanted to have thirty years of accumulation where I could become financially independent. My plan at the end of those thirty years was to be in a position where I could call the shots, be flexible, do what I wanted to accomplish. I would be able to fill a second mission, or to devote my time to community service or education. Each year I would prepare a personal balance sheet to evaluate my progress toward achieving this objective.

Second, I would evaluate my relationships with my wife, my children, my friends, and my business associates. I was continually asking the question, “What kind of an influence in the world am I for teaching righteous principles?” I wanted to be balanced socially and emotionally.

Third, I established a study program to improve my mind. I would mark a calendar each year with my study objectives of how many chapters I would read each day in a 365-day year. I am afraid that in my early years I was moving too much toward the objectives of my professional life. Now my program has changed, because I have discovered the great value of the scriptures. My program now is to read two chapters in the scriptures first thing every morning. By so doing I can cover the Book of Mormon, the Pearl of Great Price, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the New Testament each year.

Fourth, each year I gave myself a very careful temple worthiness interview. I would ask myself the questions, “Am I morally clean?” “Do I live the Word of Wisdom?” “Am I honest in paying my tithes and offerings?” “Am I regular in my attendance at my priesthood and sacrament meetings?” “Am I keeping my life in harmony with the principles of the gospel?” “Do I sustain my stake president?” “Do I sustain the prophet of the Lord?” “Is my testimony of the Lord and Savior vital, alive, and an active force in my life?” This process has had me focusing in a special way each year on what I wanted to accomplish within the time allotted to me in my mortal experience. Each year I would feel the thrill of accomplishment, but more strongly the determination to do better.

When our youngest son, Jeff, was a toddler, I had to cry in mighty prayer as Enos did (Enos 1:4), but for a different reason. Jeff had swallowed harmful paint thinner and could not breathe. With him in my arms, I rushed frantically in the car to the nearest hospital emergency room, pleading out loud with the Lord to help him to breathe. After what seemed like an eternity, the air passage opened and he did breathe, but his body had already become blue from lack of oxygen. My prayers were answered, and I cried in gratitude.

The story is told of the lone Indian brave who ascended a high mountain top. The weather was bitter cold at the summit. He looked around and saw a rattlesnake. He withdrew a safe distance.

The rattlesnake then spoke to him in pleading tones, "Please take me to the valley below where the weather is warmer and I can survive, otherwise I will die."

The brave replied, "But you will bite me."

"No," came the reply from the snake, "I will treat you differently, you will be special. I promise I will not bite you if you deliver me to safety below."

The believing brave picked up the snake, held him next to the warmeth of his body and carried him to the valley below. Just as he released him, the snake struck and bit the young brave. He cried out, "But you promised."

To which the snake replied, "You knew what I was when you picked me up."[7]

No one can claim to be fooled by the effects of pornography when he "picks it up"--believing there is any such thing as an innocent glance. It is a poisonous, venomous, unforgiving snake that will strike the moment one takes his first look and continue to strike with a full portion of venom at each look thereafter.

The second way remembering helps us is by providing protection. Perhaps you can relate to a simple experience I had as a boy. The furnace in our home was in a small utility closet. One winter day, as I reached for something, I put my hand on the hot furnace pipe for balance and burned myself. This experience taught me a tangible lesson that I remember all these years later: don’t touch hot things! Similarly, the memory of our mistakes can help keep us from making them again.

I’m a new member of the Church, and I honestly know that my journal was one of the factors that helped me finally take the challenging step of baptism.
Joining the Church was very difficult for me. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. I’m the kind of person who has to be 100 percent sure about decisions. I always fully investigate a situation before I make a decision.
I first heard the gospel while I was in Quebec City, Canada, on a French language study program. I was placed with a French-speaking family together with two beautiful Latter-day Saint girls. At the time I was quite upset about the situation, for I was a very active Catholic and had been warned against Latter-day Saints. Being brought up the way I was, I was also taught to make the best of every situation and to try to accept everyone. So I did just that, and before I knew it I was investigating the Church. The two girls knew that the Spirit was working in me, and they strongly urged me to write down my feelings no matter how crazy they were or whether they were contrary to what I believed. At the time I didn’t understand why, but I did so because I admired and trusted them. I found myself eagerly writing:
I took the first discussion today. I don’t know what came over me. The things the missionaries told me I know are not what I’ve believed for 18 years of my life, but somehow I felt myself believing them. I was excited about the things they told me. I felt strange all over while they were talking. At times I felt shivers up my spine. Dear Lord, something is happening to me, and I can’t understand what it is—HELP!
The Lord did help, and the further along we got in the discussions the more I knew that the gospel was true. I felt I should have been rejecting what I was being taught, but deep down inside I knew of its truth and I kept writing those inner feelings down on paper. Before I knew it, I had a testimony of the Church. I was so excited, I phoned home and told my parents that I was getting baptized. They pleaded with me to wait until I came home. So reluctantly I did. That night I wept bitterly because of my disappointment, and I wrote in my journal:
I feel so sad and depressed. I’ve prayed so hard about my decision. I know in my heart the gospel is true. I know Joseph Smith was a prophet and that we have a living prophet today. I believe in everything that I’ve been taught, and with my whole heart I desperately want to be baptized. I know my soul won’t be at rest until I am. I know I’m being called, and I won’t be completely happy until I take that step.
I was sincere when I wrote that, and I feel God was inspiring me for the future. I did want to be baptized, but when I got home my parents thought I had been forcefully indoctrinated by the Latter-day Saints and they did everything in their power to dissuade me. The awful thing about it was that I let them. I lost contact with all my LDS friends, and I let my testimony die. At one point in my life, I had wanted nothing to do with the Latter-day Saints, and I no longer believed in the doctrine. But that still, small voice in me kept telling me to write in my journal. On one occasion I wrote:
I feel empty, I don’t feel complete, there is something missing. Why do I feel like I’m searching for something to grab on to? I’m lost; I desperately need direction. My testimony has been shattered. I feel I should hold on to my Catholic beliefs, but I don’t know what to do.
Well, even though it wasn’t a complete prayer, the Lord heard my plea. My friend from Quebec phoned to see how things were going. I tried to hide my feelings, but she realized what was wrong. She pleaded with me to go to church. I finally told her I no longer believed and wanted nothing to do with the Church. She penetrated that defense also. She told me she knew I had a testimony; it just needed to be revived. She told me that she loved me so much and wanted so badly for me to do the things that were right. We talked a little longer, and the last thing she told me was to go back to my journal and read what I had written. Well, that night I turned to my journal and read what I had written. Something came over me. I felt such a strong urge to pray. As I prayed and read, I felt that sweet, reassuring comfort of the Spirit. The Lord knew that I so very badly wanted to believe but that there were many obstacles in my way.
The next day I went to church contrary to my parents liking. I was so very scared, but right away some girls in the ward recognized that I was new and welcomed me. After many sleepless nights and long discussions, I was finally baptized. What really helped me when I needed it most was my journal. I said to myself, “I must have felt these things or I wouldn’t have written them.” Even at the time when I didn’t believe, I knew the Lord prompted me to write the things which I felt at the time. My journal saved me. It was a way the Lord was communicating with me, and it was something I knew I had to trust because it was coming from within.
I’m so very grateful for the counsel of the Church and for advising us to keep a record of our experiences. I have a testimony of its importance, and I have been blessed with peace and strength from doing so. I can measure my progress and growth and see how the Lord has been working in my life just by listening to that small voice inside me. I know the Church is true and when I doubt, I have a firsthand source I can turn to, to reassure me of its truthfulness.

It took me a long time, many years of preparation, to make it into orbit. I learned that important things don’t come easily or quickly. I learned that persistence pays off. I also learned that you have to be prepared when the opportunity comes. I started preparing for the space program long before there was a space program. I could pass the six-day astronaut physical examination because I had lived the Word of Wisdom all my life. When they started accepting applications for the astronaut program, I had already completed my education. I already knew how to fly jet airplanes. When they ran an FBI check on me, there was nothing in the record that would disqualify me. Now, you young men of the Aaronic Priesthood, this evening you have already started to prepare for what you will someday become. I encourage you to prepare well.

On the subject of prayer, Elder Abrea said, “I know my prayers have been answered many, many times. One of the first times I remember was when I was eleven years old. My father also used to sell a variety of grains that had to be mashed for cattle. One day he had an appointment and he couldn’t finish mashing the grain. I told him to leave me with the machinery and that I could finish it for him. He said he felt I was too young and wouldn’t be able to do it.
“‘Oh, Father,’ I insisted, ‘trust me, I can do it.’
“Well, he decided to let me try. The job took about four or five hours, and I began by putting the grain into the machine. Things were going all right and then suddenly the machine jammed. I knew that you had to take one of the parts off the machine and put it on again and then it would work. I removed the part but I couldn’t get it back on the machine. I started to cry because I didn’t want to disappoint my father.
“At that time I had been a member of the Church for about six months, and I remembered one of the lessons I learned in Primary. Still crying, I kneeled down. I remember I said, ‘Father, I need Thy help, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.’ After that I went back to the machine and tried again, and it worked!
“The next testimony meeting was the first time I gave my testimony in public. I expressed my experience with prayer very simply and sat down. I know that the Lord does hear and answer our prayers.

Salote:
Two years after our son Esa died of lung cancer, our daughter Esalynn died of meningitis. In the temple, I felt a strong prompting to speak with a senior sister missionary there who also lost two children years earlier. She told me, “If you make your home a holy place, you can feel your children’s presence there.”
That has become our goal. Everything we do is to make our home a holy place. We want to feel them close.
We don’t know how to parent children beyond the veil. But if we do our best to live righteously, we believe they will feel our efforts. In our family devotionals, we welcome Esa and Esalynn by name.
In our home, even when we have a disagreement, we try to resolve it quickly. We want our home to stay a holy place as much as possible. As we’ve done so, we have all felt hope and healing and love.
Sakiusa:
The experience of losing Esa and Esalynn has ultimately brought our family closer together. We counsel together with our other children. We attend the temple as a family. We live our lives as simple as possible and choose gratitude every day. As we talk about what it means to be sealed as a family in the temple, that sealing becomes alive in us. And through all of this, we do feel the presence of our children.
One of the first things we did to make our home holier was to start reading the Book of Mormon daily. At first, we shared Book of Mormon stories with pictures for our younger children. Then we added videos. Now we’re reading more from the Book of Mormon. I can testify of the power of the Book of Mormon.

When I was about 13 years old, I lived with my grandmother. One day I found some abandoned magazines and began to read them. They contained stories from people all over the world, telling of miracles that had happened in their lives. These magazines were the Liahona; my aunt, who was a member of the Church, had left the magazines in my grandmother’s house.
The stories captivated me, and I felt something special telling me they were true. A year later I was baptized, and since then I have had my own subscription. The magazine has been a guide and a blessing. To me it is proof that God loves us and continues to reveal His secrets unto His servants the prophets (see Amos 3:7).
Lucilino Mendonça, Cape Verde

Much of what I know came from my family. When I was about eight years old, my wise mother asked my brother and me to pull weeds with her in our family’s backyard garden. Now, that seems a simple task, but we lived in New Jersey. It rained often. The soil was heavy clay. The weeds grew faster than the vegetables.
I remember my frustration when the weeds broke off in my hands, their roots stuck firmly in the heavy mud. My mother and my brother were soon far ahead in their rows. The harder I tried, the more I fell behind.
“This is too hard!” I cried out.
Instead of giving sympathy, my mother smiled and said, “Oh, Hal, of course it’s hard. It’s supposed to be. Life is a test.”
In that moment, I knew her words were true and would continue to be true in my future.

Clara McMaster was the eleventh child in her family, and she learned to love music at an early age. She sang and accompanied others on the piano as she grew up in Brigham City, Utah. For twenty-two years she was a member of the Tabernacle Choir. Today she and her husband sing together for numerous church occasions. “Music is a rich gift of God, and it is in the world to make the lives of His children happier and better,” Sister McMaster says.
While serving on the Primary General Board, Sister McMaster was asked to write a song for the first reverence program. She worked hard and prayed that she would be prompted to write what would be best for the children. One day as she was looking out the window and pondering her assignment, an idea came to her. She went to the piano and quickly wrote it down. The new song was “Reverently, Quietly.” “I felt very humble, she said. “If you prepare and do all that you can do, then Heavenly Father will help you.”
Sister McMaster has written other Primary favorites such as “My Heavenly Father Loves Me” and “Teach Me to Walk in the Light of His Love.”

Recently we were reviewing a pile of job applications that measured almost three inches high. The applications represented dozens of heart-rendering pleas such as “I need this job,” “If I don’t get a job, I will have to quit school,” “I … I … I …”

True, they pulled our heart strings, but they were nonetheless rejects for one reason or another.

In the midst of our sorting-out process, a bold knock came on the office door. In walked a smiling, confident, well-groomed teenager who looked happy to be alive!

“Hi! May I take five minutes of your time?” he began.

At our nod of consent, he boldly continued, “My name is Jack Taylor, and you need me!”

Oh, sure; we silently eyed each other. What is this?

But he went on so sincerely and honestly that we couldn’t help but give our full attention.

“I come into your restaurant all the time, and I think it’s the greatest! But, you have one problem. More people need to know about your place. I really want to help you, and here’s one idea I have …”

He was so zealous about our cause and concerns, we sat back in amazement. Out of a hundred applicants, here was one who never said a word about his needs but only our needs. From a purely business point of view, we were impressed.

Jack went on to unfold his plan of dressing in Roaring 20s attire and going door-to-door all over town to tell people about our restaurant. He proposed that for every person who came in at his invitation, we pay him a certain amount—whatever we desired.

Did we hire him?

Of course! In mid-summer, when job openings were almost non-existent, Jack Taylor got a job.

It was only a few days later that a prominent local professor entered our door accompanied by his nine children and announced, “Jack sent me!”

True, Jack’s approach to us might have been somewhat brash, but the message he was sending us got through. His message wasn’t so much that he wanted a job as that he had the right attitude. During his employment with us, that attitude never changed. He always radiated a genuine concern for our best interest.

This brings me to the story of Jose Cruz. The fulltime missionaries in my ward found this agricultural worker from Huahaca, Mexico living with other workers from Mexico in a small apartment in Waipahu last fall. Separated from his wife and four children for over a year to earn additional income to defray the costs of an expensive C-section delivery of his youngest daughter, Jose wanted to find a Church to attend while in Hawaii. His roommates recommended a Pentecostal church nearby, but the missionaries soon appeared at his apartment before he had a chance to make a decision on a church to attend. When they explained to me that Jose was willing to hear the Gospel, but only spoke Spanish, I found a member in the ward who had served in a California Spanish speaking mission, (who was in Hawaii only for the summer while accompanying his wife on assignment as a traveling nurse) to assist the fulltime missionaries on their teaching visits. I later enlisted the help of my nephew (and BYU-Hawaii student) Micah Kamoe, who had just returned from his Mexico City mission to go on exchanges with the missionaries in their teaching appointments. When Jose attended sacrament meetings and Sunday school, there was always a Spanish speaking translator at his side. Another brother in the ward whose mother was Peruvian later came forward, and he regularly accompanied Jose to Sunday school lessons to provide translation assistance.

Because of his regular attendance, Jose was soon befriended by a couple in the ward, the husband of which was serving in Army. Both husband and wife had served missions in Concepcion, Chile, and their children grew to love Jose as the family fellowshipped him. Brother Cruz joined the Church in January, and much of the baptismal program was presented in Spanish specifically for his benefit. It wasn't long before this fellowshipping couple began to reach out to Jose's family in Mexico, and missionaries were sent to his wife Lucelia. His wife had dreamed that Jose had found Jesus Christ in Hawaii while seeking for a church, and was astounded when she shortly received a picture of her husband at the Laie Temple Visitor's Center before the Torvaldsen statue of the Christus. She then knew that her dream had been had come to pass. His wife and three children were taught the Gospel and baptized within two weeks of the first visit of the missionaries in February. Another son fulfilling military service in Mexico has not yet received the Gospel, but Brother Cruz is excited to share the Gospel with him.

Vito Monte, a returned missionary in our ward from Costa Rica, now provides translation services for Jose in sacrament meetings and Sunday school.

I do not think that this Spanish speaking capability in a small ward in Ewa Beach is unique in the Church, but I do believe the willingness of the Church members to reach out to an individual far away from home in such a linguistically miraculous manner exemplifies what the Savior means by salt of the earth. In their acts of individual charity these members had certainly not lost their savor. Those of you with foreign language capabilities can bless the lives of many in your earthly sojourn.

Sixteen-year-old Dwan Chevelle Bondad, one of the speakers, shared that she was not confident enough in delivering her talk in Filipino, as English was her first language.
“I’m afraid I might not articulate my talk well,” she said.
Her parents Marisol and Oliver Bondad shared the same concern. “She’s not very good at Tagalog. Her nerves might get into her and she might stutter,” her mother revealed. “So we included her in our daily family prayer.”
She added, “We prayed hard. We were confident that the Lord would bless her.”
While reviewing her talk, Dwan had a hard time understanding her own message.
Then a beautiful turn around happened. She recalled, “The moment I gave my talk in the Celestial Room, my own message resonated with me more.”
She felt comforted. “I received the aide I needed and my anxieties disappeared,” she said. “I realized that there’s no room for worry in the Celestial Room.”

Kelly Ricketts, president of his teachers quorum in the Courtenay Branch, Victoria British Columbia Stake, steadfastly refuses to box on Sunday, although it is one of the busiest days for the boxing club he belongs to.
Instead of training on Sundays, Kelly chooses to practice at other times with both his father and his younger brother. Despite this sacrifice, Kelly has had much success in boxing. He won a bronze medal in the Canadian Junior National Amateur Boxing Championships and is both the provincial and Golden Gloves champion.
Kelly also enjoys wrestling and is on the merit list at his high school.

The story begins with an eccentric chocolatier, Willy Wonka, who has decided to open the doors of his chocolate factory for the first time in many years. He has hidden five golden tickets in chocolate bars shipped all over the world. Whoever buys the chocolate bar with the golden tickets is allowed to bring one guest and take the grand tour of his amazing chocolate factory. For the child in each of us, I'm not sure anything could be quite as great as touring a chocolate factory. Unknown to the five children and their guest, the tour is just half the story. The real reason Mr. Wonka comes up with this plan is that he is getting old and wants to find someone to take over the factory—someone he can trust with all his secret chocolate recipes. So, during the tour, Mr. Wonka devises a test—a special test—for each of the children who found a golden ticket. The child who passes his or her test would become the heir to the entire Wonka enterprise.

The five lucky children who find the golden tickets are the gluttonous Augustus Gloop, the spoiled and petulant Verruca Salt, the gum chewing addict Violet Beauregard, the TV-obsessed Mike Teavee, and the poverty-stricken Charlie Bucket.

The group meets in front of the magnificent gate of the chocolate factory at the predetermined day and begins their magical tour of the chocolate factory. One by one, each child is presented their test, each test perfectly crafted and disguised as part of the tour.

Augustus Gloop is the first child tested. He just cannot resist the idea of swimming and drinking from the river of pure chocolate. While attempting to lean over and take a drink, ignoring the warnings of Mr. Wonka to not touch the chocolate as to contaminate the entire river, he falls in and is eventually sucked up through a tube and off to another part of the factory. Augustus fails his test.

Next, Verruca Salt just has to have a cute little trained squirrel. Like everything else in her life, she demands that her daddy buy one. When Mr. Wonka tells the Salts that the squirrels are not for sale, she throws a fit and climbs over the railing she was told not to cross and ends up in the garbage chute, thus failing her test.

Violet Beauregard is presented with a test that she just can't refuse. She is the world champion bubblegum chewer; she has been chewing the same piece of gum for almost a year! A prototype gumball is being researched at the factory that will allow the chewer to actually eat their supper. Although it has not been tested on humans—and against the warnings of Mr. Wonka—Violet just has to try it. As she puts the gumball in her mouth, she enjoys the most delightful turkey dinner with all the trimmings—until she gets to desert, and instead of eating a blueberry pie, she becomes a blueberry. Violet fails her test.

Mike Teavee, who is obsessed with TV, fails his test because he just can't resist being part of the process of beaming from one place to another over the TV waves. He jumps in front of the machine to be transmitted-and poof, he is gone, lost in the airwaves over the chocolate factory, thus failing his test.

Then, lastly, there is the poverty-stricken little boy, Charlie Bucket. Part of his test is actually presented to him prior to entering the tour of the factory. When he finds the last golden ticket, as he runs home to tell his family, he is approached by a man from a competing candy company, offering Charlie a large sum of money if he will steal a piece of candy—a Gobstopper-during his tour and give it to him after the tour is over. So, during the tour, when the group enters the room where the Gobstoppers are being made, Charlie puts one in his pocket. At the end of the tour, Charlie and his grandpa are the only ones left. All the other kids have disappeared as the result of failing their test. Charlie has a change of heart and gives the Gobstopper back to Mr. Wonka. Charlie has passed the test. The man who offered to buy the Gobstopper from Charlie actually works for Mr. Wonka.

Like many young men my age, I looked forward to the spring in anticipation of the yearly high school prom. It wasn’t long before I accepted an invitation to attend with a group of friends, including my two best friends, who were fellow priesthood quorum members.

The days leading up to the prom were full of anxiousness and planning. Where would we have dinner? What color tuxedo should I wear? So many decisions to be made! In anticipation of the events, our Young Men president reminded us who we represent as priesthood holders and how we should conduct ourselves. He reminded us that the scripture “stand ye in holy places” (D&C 87:8) should be firmly in our minds as we went to the dance.

The night of the prom came. As I was preparing to leave and join my friends for pictures, a knock came at my door. Somewhat to my surprise, my Young Men president was standing on the porch. He told me he was there to see me off and wish me an enjoyable time. Before he left, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a golden dollar coin. As he handed it to me he said, “Chase, I want you to take this. Keep it in your pocket as a reminder of who you are and whom you represent as a faithful priesthood holder. Much like this gold coin, your priesthood is precious and valuable. Hold it dear to you and honor it regardless of where you are.”

I left shortly after to join my friends for dinner and pictures. And then, the prom! We all had a great time. Later that night, I became separated from my group and was surrounded by a group of people I didn’t know very well. Within a few minutes, I found myself in a difficult situation that would have compromised my standards. Feeling anxious and nervous, I shoved my hands into my pockets. My fingers felt the golden coin; I’d almost forgotten about it! I was instantly reminded that I bear His holy priesthood. I thought, “I am a faithful priesthood holder. I can honor my priesthood regardless of where I am.” I immediately walked away from the compromising situation and reunited with my friends.

Afterward, I was so thankful for faithful leaders who stayed in tune with our needs. I felt like I better understood the importance of honoring the priesthood that I bear. A night at the dance and a single golden coin reminded me that I can have the strength to stand in holy places, even when it’s hard.