Gospel Story Finder

There, as everywhere, you can find the sort of faith that makes people whole. I wish each of you could enjoy with Bishop Carter and his family, as I’ve done, a meal of dumplings, mashed potatoes, wurst, and homemade sauerkraut. Bishop Carter was branch president and bishop in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, for more than 17 years. He once told me a story that reflects their kind of faith—about their chapel, built years ago on choice donated property in a beautiful, wooded, idyllic setting that looks almost too perfect to be accidental. After the building plans were drawn up and the contracts negotiated, the city council, resistant to Mormons building in their town, declared an ancient, gigantic oak tree in the middle of the property to be a historic landmark, a move to prevent construction. Members gathered in prayer, and that very night something the town couldn’t legislate happened: a terrific storm swept through the valley, and lightning struck the tree, splitting it right to the ground and turning that historic oak into humble kindling. Construction began the next week.

It was a beautiful day in the hills of Tennessee, and I was on a two-hour training ride for cycling with my uncle. For the first half of the ride the wind was at our back, and we flew right along without any difficulty. When we changed direction, however, we found out why our ride had been so easy. Now the wind, which was blowing hard at about 20–30 miles an hour, was in our faces.
In cycling there is a technique, called drafting, where one person rides in the front and uses the most energy to break the wind for the person who rides right behind.
My uncle is a big guy—about 6 foot 3 inches tall and 240 pounds—so he was having a horrible time trying to keep up with a little 17-year-old on a road bike. About halfway home the wind was at its worst, so I accelerated ahead and slid in front of my uncle.
The next day at church he talked about how much of a difference it made. “You’re little, but the amount of wind you blocked made such a significant difference.” He then made a comparison that has changed my life. He said, “It’s almost like when you are having trouble in life, you let the Savior slip in front of you and you get behind Him. You still have to work to stay behind Him, but the wind He blocks makes a world of difference.”
After that ride I was worn, hurting, and beat, but after hearing my uncle, I realized that all I have to do is let the Savior lead and then do the work to stay behind Him, and He will take the wind for me.

Every Sunday on their way home from church, the Amblers drove down Tate Street until it ended, turned left onto Clermont Avenue, then turned right onto Clarktown Road. Halfway down Clarktown Road Dad stopped the car, and the family got out and looked around. In January they saw a snow-covered meadow; in March, a muddy hole in the ground. In May the Amblers saw the wood and brick outline of a building.
“A new church.” Lissy sighed happily.
“Our new church,” Jude exulted.
“A new church that’s all ours,” Caddy echoed their feelings.
“The work’s progressing nicely,” Dad said as he walked closer to the building, his arms clasped behind his back.
Mom reached out to hug the children. “How nice it will be to not meet in that rented hall anymore.”
The hall was where the Amblers and the other members of the Accrington Branch went to meetings each Sunday. Anticipating the move into the new building seemed to make everyone in the branch even less satisfied with their present meeting place. Lissy, Jude, Caddy, and the other Primary children often complained about the hall.
“There’s no parking lot, and we have to park way down the street and walk for miles,” Madeleine complained.
“There’s just not enough room!” Lissy said each Sunday when she scrunched between her parents in sacrament meeting. “I feel like a sausage in a can!”
“We don’t have any classrooms, and even with the dividers Brothers Magnuson made, I can hear everybody’s lesson but mine,” Jude grumbled.
“The piano’s out of tune, and lots of the keys don’t even work!” Freddy lamented. “I sound horrible on this old thing.”
“The hall isn’t like any of the pictures in the Ensign or the lesson manuals,” Caddy said, looking longingly at a picture of a meetinghouse set in the middle of a lush green lawn.
The children complained so much and so loudly that the Primary president scolded them. “Why, when I was on my mission, I went to a branch of the Church that met in a small room above a restaurant, and we were glad to have it! You don’t know how lucky you are!”
But even she was happy when the new building was finished. The Saturday before their first Sunday meeting, the branch president gave the Primary children a special tour. They could hardly believe their eyes.
“Carpet on the floor!” Silvia rubbed her shoes back and forth.
“Cushioned benches to sit on.” Eva ran her hand over the polished wood. “They even have holders with new hymnbooks.”
“A gym!” Eva’s brother George jumped up and caught an imaginary ball. “Now we won’t have to go to the park or the elementary school when we want to play games.”
“A stage!” someone exclaimed.
“A drinking fountain my size!” Lily took a long drink of water.
“And this is the library,” the branch president said. The children smiled at the meetinghouse librarian, who was unpacking boxes of pictures, books, and magazines.
“How many classrooms are there?” Jude asked.
“Eight,” answered the branch president. “Now let’s go see the baptismal font.”
“A baptismal font!” Christina exclaimed. “We won’t have to drive all the way to Clinton Ward anymore for baptisms.”
“More than one piano—and I bet that they’re all in tune like this one!” Freddy played a scale, up and down. “And an organ too. Wow!”
“Next spring we’ll plant grass, trees, and flowers,” the branch president told them.
John pulled the door open, shaded his eyes, and craned his neck. “It has a steeple, too, so everyone will know that this is a church.”
“Yes,” said the branch president, “and when it’s completely finished and paid for, we’ll have a special meeting to dedicate it to Heavenly Father.”
All through the cold winter months Lissy, Jude, Caddy, and the other Primary children prepared for what they called “Dedication Sunday.” They talked about reverence and about how important it was to take good care of the new building. They learned special songs. They drew pictures of the things that they did at church and pinned them up to make wonderful, colorful classroom bulletin boards. And the day before the dedication all the children and their families cleaned the whole building until it sparkled.
Early the next morning the Amblers, dressed in their nicest clothes, drove down Clarktown Road to the meetinghouse. They sniffed the lovely flowers Mom had carefully arranged in vases the night before and packed in a large box. They breathed in the fresh spring air coming through the open windows.
“Do you remember when our new church wasn’t even here?” Lissy asked.
“And when there was just a big hole in the ground?” Jude added.
“But now it’s a beautiful church, and soon it will belong to Heavenly Father,” Caddy said eagerly.
“Yes, this is an important day,” Dad said, turning into the parking lot. “The stake president will be here with his counselors, and many other special people are coming.”
He stopped the car, and they got out and looked happily at their new meetinghouse. Mom and Dad held the hands of the three children as they went up the walk. “Oh, how good it is to finally have our very own building to meet in!” they all agreed.

This was not your typical Sunday morning. On this particular February Sunday, members were encouraged to gather after sacrament meeting, and some leaders even ended services early, sending volunteers to help their neighbors.
Over 150 youth and adults from the La Crescenta California Stake gathered with shovels, wheelbarrows, and their bright yellow Mormon Helping Hands vests to help move mud. Torrential rains, combined with mountains of earth exposed because of burned-off vegetation, had sent rivers of mud down residential neighborhoods in their area. Homes had three to four feet of mud surrounding them and several feet of mud inside as well.
Volunteers cleared pathways though the mud so that homeowners could get to their belongings and salvage what had not been destroyed. Katie Callister, a Mia Maid in the La Canada Second Ward, said, “I really wanted to help shovel the mud out of the damaged homes, but when I got there I saw the terrible destruction. Seeing the residents’ faces turn from devastation to gratitude was such an amazing experience. It made me feel so happy to know that I was helping someone so much and at the same time serving the Lord.”
Tons of mud, rock, debris, and people’s belongings were moved that day by the youth and adults wearing those yellow vests. Many residents commented that they were touched that teenagers would give up their Sunday afternoon to help strangers.

Fourth, those who have charity love their neighbor. Charity is to realize that the all-seeing Lord truly considers our acts of neighborly service and love as demonstrations of our personal love for Him. Elder Bruce R. McConkie told this story:
My grandmother Emma McConkie was a widow at the time she was president of the Moab Relief Society. A nonmember who opposed the Church had married a Mormon girl. They had several children . . . and a new baby. They were very poor and Mother was going day by day to care for the child and to take them baskets of food. Mother herself was ill. One day she returned home especially tired and weary. She slept in her chair. She dreamed she was bathing a baby which she discovered was the Christ Child. She thought, ‘Oh what a great honor to thus serve the very Christ!’ As she held the baby in her lap she was all but overcome . . . Unspeakable joy filled her whole being . . . Her joy was so great it awakened her . . . and these words were spoken to her, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” Now I think the Lord first tried her faith. When she had proved worthy by manifesting that charity which never faileth, he gave her a glimpse within the veil.[47]

Not long after that, I ran into a different set of missionaries. I was shocked that God would hear and answer the prayers of a boy like me, until I read about Joseph Smith. I had read in the New Testament to pray always, but God appearing to a man? It felt both radical and right. Rather than run away, I set up an appointment to have them teach me.
A month into meeting with the missionaries, they invited me to be baptized. I didn’t want to turn them down, but I was hesitant to leave the tradition of my parents and everyone around me. There were two paths before me, and I knew there was only one way to know which one to take—I had to pray like Joseph Smith. I asked Heavenly Father, in the name of Jesus Christ, if the things the missionaries had been teaching me were true.
That was my turning point. From then on, I knew for myself that the restored gospel is true. No one could take that knowledge away from me. I knew which path to follow, and nothing could change that.

Brad Wilson, a Sunday School president in Minnesota, USA, makes sure teachers in the teacher council meeting don’t leave until they’ve discussed how they’re going to change because of what they’ve learned.
“We follow the outline provided in Teaching in the Savior’s Way,” says Brother Wilson. “We discuss teachers’ experiences, then we discuss one of the suggested topics. As a facilitator, I ask questions and summarize thoughts. Then we practice implementation. We break into small groups and discuss, ‘What am I going to do differently because of our meeting today?’”
Ron Goodson, a deacons quorum instructor in the same ward, says he’s impressed to see how Brother Wilson “coaches” the council. “We talk about how the Savior would teach,” he says. “Then as you feel the Spirit, you think, ‘This is something I should try with my class.’ Thinking about the Savior changes your approach. It becomes less of ‘I’ve got to prepare a lesson,’ and more about, ‘What do these deacons need and how can I help give them that?’”
He remembers writing in his journal, “I attended teacher council meeting today, and here’s what I need to do.” In fact, his journal is full of such notes. He now prepares in advance: “Start early and you get promptings all week long.” He asks the deacons what’s going on in their lives: “I’m more effective in helping them when I know them better.” And he’s inviting deacons to help teach: “As they do, they learn better too.”3

As I mentioned in the beginning, I grew up on a ranch in a dry part of Utah. I did not see the ocean until I flew over it on my way to my mission in Australia. I could not believe how much water was underneath that airplane and I was very grateful that I was in the air and not on the water. In 1970, I met Sister Olson at the Latter-day Saint Student Association International Conference that was held at BYU Provo. After we dated for a short while and things were getting more serious in our relationship, Sister Olson's family wanted to see how this cowboy would fit into their family who happened to be a family of surfers from California. Once, when we were dating, I took a trip to California to visit Sister Olson. Her family suggested that we go surfing. Being the strong and courageous young man that I was, I agreed because I was eager to fit in. Little did they know how absolutely terrified I was to go surfing in the ocean. Swimming to me at that time was a matter of survival and I knew that if I fell off the surfboard I would be in big trouble.

When we got to the beach and they pulled their surfboards out, the first thing I noticed was that there were no lifejackets. I couldn't understand how you could go swim in the ocean and have the water below you 10,000 feet deep and not have a life jacket on. I didn't say what I was thinking because this cowboy from Utah had to be tough. My father-in-law to be gave me some instructions on the beach as I listened intently. Finally he said, "Let's go. Just come and follow me."

We paddled out what I thought seemed to be a mile. The shaking and shivering that I was experiencing was not just because the water was cold. My arms and shoulders ached, my chest was rubbed raw and I was scared to death. I had noticed that the surfboards did not have a leash attached to them like I see on today's surfboards, so obviously there was nothing attached to me. As I paddled out, I thought to myself that when I fell off the surfboard I would just grab the board and hold on for dear life. Judy's father caught a few waves and kept instructing me on what I needed to do. Finally he said that it was time for me to try to catch a wave. I did notice that we were not out a mile from the beach; We were just several hundred yards out, but that didn't make any difference to me because if I didn't fall ON the surfboard, I knew I was going to drown in that 10,000 feet of water that was below me. I did catch a little wave and actually did begin to stand up when the surfboard shot out from under me, faster than I thought was possible and way too fast for me to grab hold of it. I thought to myself, "Well my life was a pretty good life. Now I'm going to die." As I fell into the water, all of a sudden I hit the bottom. I stood up and the water was only neck deep. You don't know how relieved and grateful I was. I had a wonderful time the rest of the day because I knew there was a firm and solid foundation underneath me. Wherever we go, whatever we are doing, whatever circumstances that this life deals us, we must stand on solid ground and be not moved.

“I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.”*
Thank you, David. That promise isn’t just for prophets with dramatic, dangerous missions. It’s for every one of us and for every single commandment.
Later that week at school …
Dave, you lucky dog—you get to write my history report for me. Have it ready Friday morning.
I won’t do it, Spike.
Here are five good reasons why you will!
Spike, some people think you’re stupid just because you’re big. Maybe you’ve even started believing it yourself. But I know better.
You do?
I know that you can do the report yourself and do it well. But if you could use some help, I’m your man. My place at six?
OK, but this had better work.
Wow, talk about dramatic and dangerous! But you went and did, just like Nephi!
Not unless Nephi was so scared that he swallowed his jawbreaker!

When I was a deacon, my mother told me that Elder William J. Critchlow, Jr., an Assistant to the Quorum of the Twelve, was coming to speak in our stake conference. We arrived late and had to sit in the back, far from the podium—and when Elder Critchlow stood to speak, I couldn’t see him. Mother told me to carry a chair up the aisle and place it in front of the podium. It must have looked rather strange to Elder Critchlow to see a twelve-year-old boy in the middle of the aisle, staring straight up at him.
I don’t remember much of what he said. But as he talked, a spirit settled over me, whispering, “This is a man of God. You may believe him.” At the end of the session, he came up to me and laid his hand on my shoulder. A deep peace and happiness came over me, and I learned in that moment what it means to be blessed. That early experience taught me that by hearkening to the words of the Brethren, we are on the path to becoming truly blessed in the presence of Christ. Oh, how happy we will be if we come unto Christ by trusting and following his servants.

The Prophet was true to himself not only in his youth but throughout his life. Eighteen years after the First Vision, the Prophet and others had been “penned up in a cold, open, unfinished court house” for several weeks.
“In one of those tedious nights [writes Parley P. Pratt] we had lain as if in sleep till the hour of midnight had passed, and our ears and hearts had been pained, while we had listened for hours to the obscene jests, the horrid oaths, the dreadful blasphemies and filthy language of our guards. …
“I had listened till I became so disgusted, shocked, horrified, and so filled with the spirit of indignant justice that I could scarcely refrain from rising upon my feet and rebuking the guards; but had said nothing to Joseph, or any one else, although I lay next to him and knew he was awake. On a sudden he arose to his feet, and spoke in a voice of thunder, or as the roaring lion, uttering, as near as I can recollect, the following words:
“‘SILENCE, ye fiends of the infernal pit. In the name of Jesus Christ I rebuke you, and command you to be still; I will not live another minute and hear such language. Cease such talk, or you or I die THIS INSTANT!’
“He ceased to speak. He stood erect in terrible majesty. Chained, and without a weapon; calm, unruffled and dignified as an angel, he looked upon the quailing guards, whose weapons were lowered or dropped to the ground; whose knees smote together, and who, shrinking into a corner, or crouching at his feet, begged his pardon, and remained quiet till a change of guards.
“I have seen the ministers of justice,” continued Parley, “clothed in magisterial robes, and criminals arraigned before them, while life was suspended on a breath, in the Courts of England; I have witnessed a Congress in solemn session to give laws to nations; I have tried to conceive of kings, of royal courts, of thrones and crowns; and of emperors assembled to decide the fate of kingdoms; but dignity and majesty have I seen but once, as it stood in chains, at midnight, in a dungeon in an obscure village of Missouri.” (Autobiography of Parley P. Pratt, pp. 209–211. Italics added.)
Certainly, the Prophet here demonstrated both great moral and physical courage.
His being true to himself and his Maker eventually cost him his life. It also assured him of eternal life and exaltation.

Early in 1846, when Henry was 17, the Saints had to leave Nauvoo. For the wagon trek across Iowa, Jonathan C. Wright hired Henry to be a chore boy and drive an ox team. Henry liked this job, except for Brother Wright’s restriction that Henry walk his horses but never run or race them.
While Henry was camped with the Wrights at Council Bluffs, Iowa, a United States army recruiter arrived. “I had told my comrades that he would not get a man,” Henry said. But President Brigham Young called a meeting in a brush-covered bowery and asked that 500 men enlist in the Mormon Battalion for the Mexican War. Henry felt impressed to answer the call, so he joined the army. Mr. Wright, upset at losing his hired hand, “was wrathy and said that I could not go.” But Henry went. He was not yet 18, as required by the government, “but as I had nearly got my growth in height I passed without difficulty.”
The next summer, when he was 18, he left California, where the Mormon Battalion had completed its march, and entered the Great Salt Lake Valley just after the 1847 pioneers arrived. Wanting to rejoin his family, he returned east with Brigham Young’s company late that same year to the Winter Quarters area.

During high school David played basketball and football. The school bought some inexpensive jerseys for the 12 players on the football team. But the players had to wear their basketball shoes. Their chemistry teacher, the only one at Oakley High who had actually seen a football game, taught them a few simple plays.

The school’s first-ever football game was against Twin Falls, the previous year’s Idaho state champs. David was amazed as he saw 39 players in full uniform run onto the field to warm up.

David explained: “After two plays we didn’t have any desire to have the ball—so we would kick it, and soon they would score. When they got the ball, they would run a baffling play and score. Our problem was to get rid of the ball—it was less punishing.”

In the final minutes, one of David’s teammates intercepted a pass and ran for his life. He scored, making the final score 106 to 6. About this game, Elder Haight later said, “In all things success depends upon previous preparation.”3

Less than a year after returning home, the Bollbachs locked up their house and workshop a third time to serve in the Germany Munich Mission, where Brother Bollbach was called to be branch president in Nürnberg. Although the branch had more than 450 people on its records, only about 20 members attended regularly.
The Bollbachs knew they had challenges, but they also knew how to overcome them. With faith, prayer, obedience, and diligence, they concentrated on visiting less-active members. “A miracle happened,” Brother Bollbach exclaims. “The branch grew. Several months later, the branch was divided into three branches—Feucht, Fürth, and Nürnberg. I know it was the blessing and help of God. We were just the instruments in his hands.”

There is never a situation where good manners are optional. Before his mission, my son would say to me, “It’s okay. I don’t have to have good manners here when I’m just with my friends.” Or my daughter would say, “We don’t have to have good manners here because it’s just us at home. When I go out I’ll do okay.” Then the whole family would be out to dinner and they both would be eating like slobs. I’d say, “I thought you two said that when we go out to dinner you’d have good table manners.” All they could say was “Oops!” They got caught by their bad habits. Good manners need to be practiced.

Another account from Korea comes from a close and dear missionary companion of mine, David A. Strebe. He writes in his personal history,

We were walking up the dirt road to reach the group of homes at the top of the hill. It was dry and very warm. Everything was hard and so very dry. The monsoon rains had not yet begun for the summer. The only moisture was in a shallow ditch at the side of the road.
The mud in the ditch was black as tar and had an odor all of its own. I didn't notice the ditch and stepped into the black smelly slime which oozed into my shoe. We had several stops to make, several miles to go, and I was really in a dilemma.
Below us, coming up the hill, was a Korean lady. She had a yoke across her shoulders. On each end of the yoke hung a five gallon bucket filled with water. In 1959, most homes in Seoul, Korea had no water. Drinking water had to be carried, sometimes for long distances.
What a heavy burden she carried.
When she came up to me, she noticed the grimy predicament that I was in. Without a word, she put down her load. To my amazement, she knelt in the dirt in front of me, lifted my foot and removed my shoe and sock. Patiently, she cleaned the sock and shoe with the precious water she had carried so far. When she was satisfied that the shoe and sock were as clean as she could make them, she again lifted my foot and washed it. Then she dried it with the hem of her long dress. She restored sock and shoe to my foot. I was overwhelmed, overcome with gratitude.
"Thank you so much," I said, "What can I do for you?"
"Nothing," she replied meekly.
"Please, may I carry your burden to your home?"
"No. My neighbors will mock me."
"Oh, please let me do something."
"No. My children will laugh at me."
"May I come to your home and offer a prayer?"
"No. My husband will beat me. I am just a dog."
"Oh no! Not so sister," I cried.
Seemingly there was nothing to do for this wonderful lady. As she knelt before me to finish tying my shoe, I laid my hands on her head, and said a prayer, and gave her a blessing. I blessed her that God's influence would come to her in this life, and that honor would come to her in the life hereafter. I promised her that some day she would be honored as a queen, "in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen."[3]

A true story from the Philippines.
Chim opened his sleepy eyes. It was finally the weekend!
“Time to wake up, or we’ll be late,” Mom called.
Chim wished he could sleep longer, but today was market day. He needed to help Mom buy food for the week. So he got up and quickly ate his breakfast.
Mom did a lot for Chim and his two brothers. She was very busy working, and she didn’t have much time to be at home. Chim and his brothers worked together to do most of the chores. Chim was happy to help.
When Chim and Mom got back from the market, Mom had to leave for work. While she was gone, Chim and his brothers got ready for Sunday. Chim set out the shoes, pants, and shirt he would wear to church tomorrow. His older brother, Robin, helped him iron his shirt. Then they made dinner.
Chim was cleaning up the kitchen when Mom came home. She looked really tired.
“Here you go, Mom.” Chim handed her a bowl of hot food to eat.
Mom smiled. “Thanks for your help today. This looks delicious!”
The next morning, Chim woke up early and got ready for church. He was excited to see his friends in Primary and learn about Jesus Christ.
“Mom?” he called quietly, knocking on her door. “Are you coming with us to church today?”
“I can’t,” Mom said. “I have to work this afternoon.”
“OK.” Chim felt a little sad. It had been almost a year since Mom came to church with them. “Drive safe and have a good day,” he told her.
“Ready to go?” his little brother, Mattew, asked.
“Yes!” Chim put on his shoes and ran out the door with his brothers to catch the bus.
Chim felt happy when he walked into the church building. He tried to think about Jesus Christ during the sacrament. And in Primary, he tried extra hard to listen to Sister Ortega’s lesson.
“Today we are learning about the Holy Ghost,” said Sister Ortega. “The Holy Ghost brings us messages from Heavenly Father. Kind of like a radio.”
Chim looked at the picture of a radio Sister Ortega was holding up.
“A radio works by receiving a signal and turning it into sound waves we can hear,” she explained. “You have to set it to the right channel to hear it. To hear the Holy Ghost, we need to set our hearts and minds to the right channel too. How can we do that?”
Everyone was thinking. Then Chim said, “By following Jesus Christ and keeping the commandments.”
Sister Ortega smiled. “That’s right.”
After church, Chim helped make dinner again. He felt warm inside as he helped. He knew that by serving his family, he was setting his heart to the right channel to feel the Holy Ghost.
When Mom got home, Chim gave her a big hug. Then they prayed over the food and started to eat.
“Guess what I learned at church today,” Chim said. He liked to tell Mom about Primary.
“What?” Mom asked.
“We learned about the Holy Ghost,” said Chim. “It’s like a radio. When we keep the commandments, we can turn our hearts to the right channel to hear Him.”
Mom nodded. “That’s great. So what’s an example of keeping the commandments?”
Chim smiled. “Help your mom!” He laughed. “I love you, Mom.”
Illustrations by Uran Duo

The story that stood out to me in the November 2010 New Era was “He Is My Savior Too.” The story is about a young woman in a choir class who hears someone else take the Lord’s name in vain. When she asks the girl not to swear, other classmates agreed. The reason that this story is my favorite is because it made the girl who took the Lord’s name in vain stop and realize what she was saying.
Bradi M., Utah

Megan’s older brother Jake looked handsome in his military fatigues. But Megan wished he didn’t have them on today. He stood by his packed suitcases in the hallway, ready to leave for active duty, as the whole family gathered around wishing him good-bye. After a big bear hug for Megan, Jake was gone.
On Monday night, everyone gathered in the living room for family home evening. Megan sat on the center cushion of the couch next to the empty spot where Jake always sat. A letter from Jake had let the family know he arrived at his military base safe and sound, but Megan missed him—especially tonight. Family home evening was a special time for compliments, songs, stories, lessons, and testimonies. Jake had often whispered the answers to questions in Megan’s ear so she could get them right, his strong arm around her shoulders.
When Megan’s older sister Liz began playing the piano for the opening song, Megan missed Jake even more. “Families can be together forever through Heavenly Father’s plan,” Megan sang. “But Jake isn’t here together with our family,” Megan thought. She sang the next line. “I always want to be with my own family, and the Lord has shown me how I can.”* “How can we be together with Jake?” she wondered. “He is thousands of miles away.”
Megan heard her father’s voice asking her to say the opening prayer. Her heart skipped a beat. She hopped to her feet and folded her arms. She would ask Heavenly Father to show them how their family could be together when Jake was so far away. “Dear Father in Heaven, we’re so thankful to be here in family home evening. But Jake isn’t here. He can’t sing with us and learn with us. He is going to be especially lonely on Monday nights. Help us to know how we can be a close family even though he is far away. And please watch over him so he’ll be safe.”
Megan sat down. She saw her purple school notebook on the floor by the couch and grinned. She had an idea. She picked up her notebook, opened it, and began writing furiously.
Dad opened the family council part of the evening by announcing, as always, “Greeps, Gripes, and Grumps.” No one could remember how this silly name came to be. Greeps were calendar items and compliments. Gripes and Grumps were comments and complaints to be addressed. Megan usually had lots to say. But this time she was busy writing.
Dad soon began giving the lesson, which was from an article in the Ensign about humility.
“Megan, can you tell us what becoming like a little child means to you?” Megan, who was busy writing, didn’t hear him.
“Is that homework, Megan?” Dad asked. “We’re having our lesson.”
Megan stopped writing. “I know how we can be a family!” she said excitedly. The whole family stared at her. “With Jake gone, I mean. I know how we can still have family home evening together!”
“How?” everyone asked.
Megan turned her notebook around for them to see. It said,
Megan’s family gathered around, patting her on the back.
“What a great idea!” Liz said. “But you could leave out the part about the mistakes!”
“He’ll love it!” declared Mom.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Josh asked.
“Jake won’t be here,” Megan said. “But every week in the mail he’ll get our family home evening in an envelope, sealed with a hug!”
“I think Heavenly Father answered your prayer,” Dad said.
Megan was already writing again, her pen bobbing across the paper and her face beaming bright.
Family Home Evening, October 8
Opening song: “Families Can Be Together Forever”—accompanied by Liz with only a few tiny mistakes, led by Josh who is still wearing his sweaty soccer uniform.
Opening prayer: Given by Megan who asked a special blessing on Jake who is far away and who Megan is missing very much because he won’t be whispering the right answers in her ear.
Greeps, Gripes, and Grumps: Josh told everyone what time his soccer game is this week. Liz said she loved the new sweater she wore today that Mom gave her and could everyone please come to the school choir concert she’s in next Thursday. Jillie asked what we’re having for treats after the lesson. Mom said rice pudding. Jillie asked if we could have ice cream sandwiches next week. Mom said we probably could if Jillie reminded her in time.
Lesson: Given by Dad—about humility, taken from Elder Marlin K. Jensen’s talk in the Ensign. We shouldn’t compare ourselves to others. This is what makes us have pride. It is a great thing to become as a little child and love everyone.

It was a beautiful autumn day. At school, I was determined to finish all my work so that I wouldn’t have any homework that night. Mom picked me up from school for a special day of shopping with birthday money I had received.
As we drove away from the school parking lot, she started explaining what had happened in America. She told me that there had been four terrible plane crashes and that many people had been killed. I started to cry. I asked, “Is there anything we can do to help?” She said that people were stranded all over the United States because all the planes that were flying at the time of the crashes had to make emergency landings at the nearest airports. She said, “We can still do the shopping, as we planned, or we could go to the airport and see if there is anyone who needs a place to stay. It’s your choice.”
My stomach had started hurting, and I had been scared. But when she said that, I immediately felt the Holy Ghost quiet my fears. I told Mom, “I have two words for you—we’re going!” We quickly printed a sign, then headed for the airport forty miles (64 km) away.
We were happy that we did. We brought home a Marine who was on his way back to his base in San Diego, California. He had just been home in Kalamazoo, Michigan, after completing boot camp. He joined us that night for family prayer. I was, and am, grateful that Heavenly Father helped me to make the right choice that day.