Gospel Story Finder

Brett and Brandt Crowther were giving up high school in the United States to come to Ireland with their parents while their father served as a mission president. Brett would miss only his senior year, but Brandt would miss three years of high school. Then, by the time his dad’s mission was over, Brandt would be old enough to serve his own mission full-time. “Some of my friends did tease me about going on a five-year mission.”
Brandt remembers the time right before early-morning seminary started just a few months after he arrived in Ireland. “I prayed almost every night of my life, but one night about eight months ago, I prayed with sincerity and asked the Lord what He wanted me to do here. I needed to know in my heart that the Church was true. And I found out that God does live and He loves me. I gained an understanding of what He wanted me to do. And since then, I’ve been happy being here. I’ve loved it. I’m closer to the Savior now.”
Brandt explains some of the things the Lord told him he needed to do. “I needed to read the scriptures every day and to pray every night and keep the commandments. And be enthusiastic. I needed to get in gear. That night the Spirit was with me. I didn’t want to go to bed. I stayed up feeling that feeling. The best way I can explain it was like I wasn’t alone and I knew it.”

The T’ang dynasty lasted from A.D. 618 to 907. And during this important period in Chinese history, block printing was invented, Buddhism became very strong, and certain areas of the surrounding territory were conquered. The rulers were very rich, especially during the early years of the dynasty, when the T’ang emperor, T’ai-tsung, sat on the throne.
The time came when the emperor wished to find a worthy husband for his daughter, Wen-ch’en, who was a very beautiful, intelligent, and elegant young woman. When the emperor’s wishes became known to the ruler of a kingdom adjoining the T’ang empire, he sent his most trusted official, Prime Minister Lu, to ask on his behalf for Wen-ch’en’s hand in marriage. When the prime minister arrived, he found the representatives of four other rulers there ahead of him.
After some thought, the emperor decided to pose five puzzles for the visiting emissaries to solve. “The ruler whose official shows the greatest wisdom will marry my daughter,” he declared. “After all, he must be very wise if he has chosen such a clever official to serve him. Therefore, he should make a suitable husband for Wen-ch’en.”
The emperor assembled the five emissaries, and ordered one of his courtiers to bring in a length of thread and a large ivory bead, with a hole on either side of it. “Here is the first of five puzzles I shall ask you to solve,” Emperor T’ai-tsung explained. “These holes are connected by a zigzag path. Whoever can thread the bead will solve the first puzzle.”
Each emissary took a turn twisting the thread and trying to string the bead. The first four coaxed it gently, then they tried to force it, and at last they gave up. When Prime Minister Lu’s turn came, he lifted up a tiny ant, looped the thread around its body and placed it at one of the openings in the bead. He blew as hard as he could on the ant and it sped swiftly through the zigzag passageway to the other end.
Emperor T’ai-tsung was impressed. “You are a very clever man. Now, if all of you will follow me, we shall see who can find the answer to the second puzzle.”
Out in the courtyard they found a large pile of cut logs. The emperor said, “There are about a hundred logs here. Can one of you tell me which end of each grew closest to the tree’s roots?”
Four of the emissaries frowned and thought hard, but they could not guess the answer.
Prime Minister Lu asked respectfully, “Your Imperial Highness, am I permitted to have these logs placed in the pond of your courtyard?”
“I have no objection,” the emperor graciously replied.
When the logs had been put into the water, one end of each log sank slightly below the surface while the other bobbed on top of the water.
Prime Minister Lu declared, “The ends beneath the surface are heavier and denser because they are nearer the tree roots and the lighter ends are closer to the tops of the trees.”
“You have solved the first two puzzles very cleverly indeed,” the emperor complimented, “but I wonder whether you will figure out the third.” He smiled and led the five men out to the stables. There he pointed out one hundred mares and one hundred foals. “Your next puzzle requires you to pair each young horse with its mother.”
The five officials walked around looking perplexed at the mares and foals.
It cannot be the size or color, thought Prime Minister Lu. The next day when the emperor asked the officials to match the mares and foals, each of the first four replied that the task was impossible.
Prime Minister Lu confidently said, “Let all the mares be taken from the stables and the foals kept inside. The foals may eat as much hay as they like all day long but they may not be given a single drop of water to drink.”
The next day Prime Minster Lu asked that the foals be let out of the stables. Each foal ran to its mother to drink.
T’ai-tsung was delighted at Prime Minister Lu’s ingenuity. He praised him highly and then told the five that there would be no more puzzles to solve that day. Four of the officials spent the day resting, but Prime Minister Lu wandered in the courtyard, speaking kindly to the courtiers and servants he met and inquiring about the life of the court.
That night as all the officials lay sleeping in the guesthouse, they were suddenly awakened by a tremendous noise of gongs and drums. A courtier suddenly appeared and bowed low. “You are summoned to the presence of his Imperial Highness,” he told them. Then he vanished.
Prime Minister Lu was thoughtful, It is strange indeed that we must find our way to the emperor ourselves. I wonder if this is another puzzle. It will be quite easy to reach the imperial quarters by following the noise of the gongs and drums, but it will be quite difficult to return here in the darkness. Trailing behind the other four officials, he carefully made a small mark at every corner so that he could find his way back.
As soon as the emperor had greeted the five emissaries, he dismissed them with instructions to return at once to their guest quarters.
“The first one to find his way back to the guesthouse will have solved the fourth puzzle,” he announced.
The first four officials stumbled and fumbled in the dark and soon were hopelessly lost in the confusion of the many passages. Treading softly, Prime Minister Lu felt for the marks he had notched at each turn and returned quickly to the guesthouse.
“Prime Minister Lu has won again!” the emperor declared. “But there is one final puzzle to solve tomorrow. It is the most important of all.”
When the five officials gathered the next day, they were faced with a long line of beautiful young girls in silken robes. T’ai-tsung announced, “My daughter, Wen-ch’en, is one of these girls. Which one is she?”
The first four emissaries, eager to make up for failing to solve the other puzzles, quickly chose one of the girls and said, “Your Imperial Highness, this is your daughter.”
But Prime Minister Lu had listened to the talk of the courtiers and the servants while the other officials had spent their time resting. He remembered that one courtier had spoken of Wen-ch’en’s long, glossy black hair while another talked of her pearl white skin. Yet someone else admired her graceful figure and the proud way she held her head high. But of most importance, Wen-ch’en’s little maid servant had told the prime minister that her mistress had a tiny mole on her left wrist so he looked for that.
Prime Minister Lu selected one of the girls and said, “Your Imperial Highness, this girl, most beautiful of all, is your daughter.”
“You have performed the task given you by your ruler perfectly,” the emperor said. “This is indeed my daughter, Wen-ch’en. I give her in marriage to your ruler. He is an extremely wise man to have placed you in his service.”

“Recently, I spoke with a Laurel from the United States. I quote from her email:
“‘This past year some of my friends on Facebook began posting their position on marriage. Many favored same-sex marriage, and several LDS youth indicated they “liked” the postings. I made no comment.
“‘I decided to declare my belief in traditional marriage in a thoughtful way.
“‘With my profile picture, I added the caption “I believe in marriage between a man and a woman.” Almost instantly I started receiving messages. “You are selfish.” “You are judgmental.” One compared me to a slave owner. And I received this post from a great friend who is a strong member of the Church: “You need to catch up with the times. Things are changing and so should you.”
“‘I did not fight back,’ she said, ‘but I did not take my statement down.’
“She concludes: ‘Sometimes, as President Monson said, “You have to stand alone.” Hopefully as youth, we will stand together in being true to God and to the teachings of His living prophets.’”

Maya and Cade raced to the chicken coop.
“Is anything there?” Maya asked.
“Not yet,” Cade said.
Maya and Cade took care of the chickens every day. They gave them food and water. And they checked for eggs. But there were no eggs yet.
“My chicken will lay the first egg,” Cade said.
“No,” Maya said. “Mine will.”
A few days later Cade ran into the house. “I found an egg!” The egg was white with brown speckles.
“That’s from Cade’s chicken,” Mom said. “My chicken’s eggs will be brown. Maya, your chicken’s eggs will be blue.”
Cade pumped his fist. “My chicken laid the first egg!” he said.
Maya thought about the blue egg. She could wait for that.
But waiting was hard! The next egg didn’t come for days. And it was brown. “Your blue egg will come,” Mom said. “Sometimes we have to wait for good things.” So Maya kept waiting.
Every day Cade and Maya filled the water. Every day, they scattered seeds for the chickens to eat. And they kept checking for eggs. Sometimes there was a speckled egg. Sometimes there was a brown egg. But never a blue one. So Maya kept waiting.
One day Maya checked for eggs again. This time she found two. One was speckled. One was brown. Then something caught her eye. Another egg, hidden under the straw. A blue egg!
Maya picked it up. It was beautiful. Waiting was worth it.

Tim leaned on the dented fender of his old Honda and scowled at his barren surroundings.
Lanely, the sign had said. What a dump, he thought.
Another hot wind carried a dust cloud across the road. The town’s only gas station sat a hundred yards off the interstate. During the tourist season, you could sit outside the garage and watch car after car fly by on the freeway, but hardly any of them stopped in Lanely.
Tim had stopped there but not to take pictures or admire the three-block skyline. Behind him, the station’s owner, a man old enough to be Tim’s grandfather, examined the engine in the hot shade of the hood.
Tim’s tan face looked angry and exhausted. Red, matted hair, drenched in sweat, added to his tired appearance. He scowled at his watch. Great, he thought, I’ll be late for the game. He had never missed a football game. Now here he was, stuck in some dump, for no good reason. Why did Mom make him go to his uncle’s funeral anyway? It wasn’t like he’d seen him in the last 10 years. And he had wasted his morning with a bunch of other people he hadn’t seen in 10 years. He didn’t want to do that again.
“Well,” said the owner, emerging from under the hood, “it looks like you might be here for a while. Your water pump’s bad. That’s why your engine keeps overheating.”
Tim rolled his eyes and threw up his hands at the news. He fumed for a moment then kicked the car’s front tire angrily.
“Great,” he grunted. “How long is that going to take?”
“Oh, a couple hours, I reckon.” The owner wiped his greasy hands on a rag that looked even greasier. “I think I have the part here. But my other mechanic is home sick today. If you want to lend me a hand, it would move things along a little.”
He pulled a red handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. The boy’s face was very familiar; the strong nose and the firm, square jaw awakened a shadow in Jack’s memory. “Where are you headed, anyway?”
Tim let a second drift by before answering. “Over to the coast. A town called Cranston.”
Jack hadn’t thought about Cranston for a long time. It reminded him of …
He took a closer look at the young man. A surprising resemblance, he told himself. Maybe it was just his imagination. “C’mon,” he said, gesturing toward the car. “Let’s get this thing in the garage.”
Tim stood still for a second, then moved to help push the car. The sooner it was fixed, the sooner he could get out of here.
Jack was under the hood again. Tim leaned on the fender and peered down at the engine, but it was just one greasy, tangled mass to his eyes, and he slipped into daydreaming. He had lost track of time, but it seemed like they’d been in there a while. Occasionally Jack would ask for a certain tool, and Tim found most of those indistinguishable too.
Inside the garage, they were out of the sun, but the heat still bore down on Tim, squeezing more sweat from his body. Soiled auto manuals filled a rickety bookcase on one wall. The odors of gasoline, motor oil, and something mildewy blended to give him a headache. It was the silence that Jack found intolerable. He wiped his shiny forehead with his sleeve.
“So you’re from Cranston,” he said, not looking up from the engine. “Does the name Nate Vaughan mean anything to you?”
Tim answered without moving. “He was my grandad. Never met him. I think he died when my mom was really young. How did you know him?”
“Why, he used to live here in town,” Jack said. He glanced at Tim. “There’s a strong family resemblance, I might add.”
Tim let out a flat grunt. “I think I remember my mom saying something about that once, but she hardly talks about him.” He went back to staring at the engine.
Jack resumed working but tried to continue the conversation. “Yup, he and I were friends for years before your mother was born. We worked as ranch hands together, and he was best man at my wedding.”
Tim glanced at his watch. He didn’t care for reminiscing, but he was going to be here for a while. When the old man paused, Tim said, “I heard he went crazy.”
To Tim’s surprise, Jack didn’t even look up but kept loosening a certain nut. For a moment Tim thought he hadn’t been heard, but then Jack replied calmly, “Did your mother tell you that?”
Tim thought he felt tension hovering in the air. “Yeah, a long time ago. She said that’s why my grandma left him and moved to Cranston.”
The owner handed Tim his wrench. “Give me that one second from the end,” he said, wiping his forehead on his sleeve again. He didn’t speak again until he had resumed work on the engine. “Well, son, you’re not getting the whole story there. I knew your grandma, and she was a fine woman. I knew your mother, too, when she was really young. Your Grandpa Nate loved them both very much; he was a wonderful husband and father.”
“Then why did he leave them?”
“Now, see, that’s what I want to set straight.” He extracted himself from the engine and leaned against a nearby workbench, wiping his hands on a rag. “You see, all three of them used to live here in town. One day your grandpa met two traveling preachers, and they showed him this.”
He stepped over to the bookcase and pulled a volume off the shelf with a worn hand. He handed it to Tim, who examined the book briefly. It was old but not dusty, bound in worn, brown leather. The yellowed title page read, “The Book of Mormon.” The name sounded familiar. Tim shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. So what? People don’t up and leave their families over a book.”
Jack slowly turned the wrench over his hands. His eyes stared off into space. “The first time Nate met the missionaries and saw the Book of Mormon, he knew it was true. He asked the missionaries to baptize him that same week. I still remember how excited he was when he first told me about it.” He gripped the wrench firmly in his hands and looked thoughtfully at Tim. “Your grandma, on the other hand, didn’t like the whole deal at all. Among other things, she said she didn’t believe someone should change religions. Nate was sad that it upset her, but he couldn’t just stop believing what he believed to be true. Eventually your grandmother took your mother and moved in with relatives in Cranston. I don’t think Nate saw them much after that, and I didn’t either. Nate passed away not long after.”
Tim shrugged again. “I don’t get it. What made him do that?”
The owner tilted his head a little to the left and pondered for a moment. Then he drew in a deep breath and said, “Tim, it’s not easy to explain in a few words, and I don’t know exactly how Nate felt or what he experienced. I’m not him.”
They were quiet for a moment. Tim wanted to say something, but waited. Jack continued.
“That was a very busy time for both of us, but I remember how one day we were out fishing not far from here. I knew that Nate and his wife were having some troubles then, though I didn’t understand all the circumstances and everything. Eventually we started talking about it. I told him that I thought he was risking a lot for this religion, with his marriage and all. He nodded, said he knew that. So then I asked him straight out why he was doing it. He was really quiet for a minute, and then he said, ‘Jack, do you remember those nights out on the trail when we slept under the stars?’
“We used to stay awake for hours talking about God and life and what we were supposed to be doing with our time. We put a lot of thought into it, but never got very far. Anyway, Nate told me, ‘I finally found answers for those questions we always wondered about.’ Sometimes Nate had told me that he was afraid of being alone. He was afraid that one day his friends and family would all be gone, and he’d be alone. But now he said that he knew that God knew and loved him. He said that God would help him in his hard times, that he was helping him right then.
“I remember being amazed at the excitement and passion he spoke with. He was a changed man, and there was something in his voice that gave me hope.”
Jack paused. A placid thoughtfulness had settled over his face. “Now, I didn’t understand everything he told me right then, and it was actually a long time before I did, but by the time he finished speaking I had this beautiful, peaceful feeling that made me want to believe everything he’d said. I never doubted Nate after that.” Jack looked at the engine, then handed Tim the wrench. “I think we’re done.”
Tim took the wrench and stepped back from the car. He stood silently, staring at the tool. Alone. Or not? The idea hadn’t occurred to Tim before, but now it made him think. Jack’s words carried a power. They stirred up questions too. Did his grandad have any more relatives here? Where was he from? How did he meet grandmom?
Tim’s trance was snapped by the slamming of the hood of his car. “You’re ready to go,” the old man told Tim. “That’ll get you to Cranston, no problem. Just a little late.”
Late. The game. Tim had forgotten it. “Ummm, great. Sounds good,” he finally mumbled.
Tim wrote a check while Jack cleaned up. Neither said much until Tim was about to climb into his car. He offered the owner his hand and thanked him.
The owner shook his hand and nodded. Then he handed him a scrap of paper with a number scrawled on it. “My pleasure. Listen, I’ve got a lot of pictures and stuff from when I used to work with your grandpa. Why don’t you come back up and take a look at them sometime? Or you’re always welcome just to come and talk.”
Tim nodded and got into his car. As he started the engine, he leaned out the window and said, “Thanks. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

I recently talked with a high school senior engaged to a high school junior, and both felt they must be married as soon as school ended. I asked what he planned to do to earn money for the new family. He didn’t have specialized skills but said he had a friend who operated a service station. He was sure he could get a job there. They both wanted the wife to finish high school during their first year of marriage. Further discussion revealed that the girl’s parents were deeply upset whenever the topic of marriage came up—which it seldom did in her home.

I came away from that discussion thinking, “Early marriage … immaturity … they think they must have marriage now because it will solve their problems … they don’t know themselves … their experiences do not equip them to meet the demands that society will make on that marriage!”

Yet we had still another problem: no podium. As we prayed to know how to get one, I learned that a local elementary school had some wood we could use. For days I searched for a carpenter who could build a podium from the wood, but I couldn’t find one. Finally, on a Saturday, I decided to build it myself. I had never carried such heavy objects, and I would never have believed I could finish the podium in one day, but God helped me. The podium was ready for church the next day. All the members were amazed, but not as amazed as I was. It seemed a miracle to me.

A sister who had been through a painful divorce wrote of her experience in drawing from the Atonement. She said: “Our divorce … did not release me from the obligation to forgive. I truly wanted to do it, but it was as if I had been commanded to do something of which I was simply incapable.” Her bishop gave her some sound advice: “Keep a place in your heart for forgiveness, and when it comes, welcome it in.” Many months passed as this struggle to forgive continued. She recalled: “During those long, prayerful moments … I tapped into a life-giving source of comfort from my loving Heavenly Father. I sense that he was not standing by glaring at me for not having accomplished forgiveness yet; rather he was sorrowing with me as I wept. …
“In the final analysis, what happened in my heart is for me an amazing and miraculous evidence of the Atonement of Christ. I had always viewed the Atonement as a means of making repentance work for the sinner. I had not realized that it also makes it possible for the one sinned against to receive into his or her heart the sweet peace of forgiving.”

by Reneé Heyland
One of the altars in the sealing rooms of the Sao Paulo Temple in Brazil is very special to some former Mia Maids from the Lethbridge Alberta Stake. During the course of a year, girls from the nine different classes in the stake raised $1,425—approximately $225 more than the cost of the altar they hoped to contribute to the new temple.
Cheryl Crane from the Second Ward expressed the following thoughts about her experience: “At first I wasn’t too happy to give up my free time to earn the temple money, but then I read about the sacrifices the members in Brazil are making.
“Hundreds of thousands of dollars had to be raised, and such amounts of money are not easy to come by. One young couple saved $2,000 to come to Salt Lake City to go through the temple, a dream they had shared for many years. But when they were asked to contribute to the temple fund, they gave up that dream for the sake of another—the dream that every Brazilian Saint could go through the temple, instead of just a few.
“When I read about these and other sacrifices that Saints in Brazil had made, I realized my sacrifices hardly classify as sacrifices at all.”
Throughout the year the girls participated in a variety of money-raising projects. To the usual baked-food sales one of the groups added caramel popcorn, another sponsored a spaghetti dinner, and several of the classes sold concessions at stake sports events. The girls had car washes, pop bottle drives, and Christmas tree sales. One ward sponsored a carnival (complete with balloon-shaving and doughnut-eating contests); another cut out, made, and sold doll clothes; and a third took orders for and assembled silk flower corsages for Mother’s Day gifts. Several nonmembers became as enthusiastically involved as their Mia Maid friends.
Along with the money-raising events came “spirit-raising” events. Lessons were devoted to learning about the Saints in Brazil, temple marriage, and the significance, structure, and purpose of our modern-day temples. In addition, some of the girls were able to visit the Alberta Temple and do baptisms for the dead. But the highlight of the year was the special stake meeting held for all the Mia Maids, their parents, and leaders at the completion of the project. A Mia Maid from each ward explained how her class had raised the money and then gave her testimony of this special project. Next was the presentation of a story “The Dark Blue Suit” (see the July 1978 New Era), which gave a little insight into the faith and attitudes of some of the Saints in Brazil.
The conclusion of the evening was a talk by stake president Lamont Matkin concerning what the temple in Cardston should mean to the Mia Maids in the Lethbridge Stake.
Adviser Lesley Heath of the First Ward summed up her feelings about the year by saying, “It was a time of learning—about the Brazilian people, about the value of temples, and about the special beauty of each individual Mia Maid in my class. Only I, as their adviser, will ever know the real sacrifice of the two girls in our class who went the extra mile and donated twice as much of their babysitting money as they had promised. Only I will ever know of another girl who took the time away from a special event with her friends to work all day at the basketball concession stand. I’m grateful for this experience, and for the vision it gave us of what we can do.”

Winnie flung her fifth-grade math book across the buckling boards of the front porch and hunkered down, peering into the deep recesses of the crawl space beneath the weathered frame house.
“Here, Barney. Come here, boy,” she called.
From the dusty darkness a black and tan hound lazily emerged. Winnie sat down on the bottom step as Barney stretched out at her feet. She stroked his long silky ears.
“Barney, do you know what happened to me in school today? Miss Benson asked the class which South American country is long and skinny and famous for its farm products, and Arthur Mosely yelled out, ‘Winnie Wainwright,’ and the class burst out laughing. Barney, I could have crawled right under my desk and died! Well, Arthur Mosely won’t get the best of me anymore! I’m going to see that he gets what he deserves!”
Later, when Winnie’s dad came in from the barn, she had steaming potato soup ready for supper.
“Hey, Punkin, how’s my girl?” asked Mr. Wainwright.
“Oh, I’m OK, I guess,” she muttered.
Dad hugged the tall thin girl and said, “Let me wash up for supper, and we’ll talk about it.”
Ever since Mother had died of cancer two years ago, Dad had tried to be a special friend as well as a father to Winnie.
They sat at the table and bowed their heads as Dad said a prayer and blessed the food: “Dear Heavenly Father, we give Thee thanks for our home, this food, and Thy love. Help us to live in such a way that we’ll bring honor to Thy name. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
When they raised their heads, Dad asked, “Now, Punkin, what’s troubling you?”
“I’m tired of Arthur Mosely making fun of me, that’s what. And I’m fixing to teach him a thing or two!”
“Now, hold on, Winnie,” Dad admonished. “You know it’s not right to be revengeful. Arthur will get what’s coming to him one of these days, and you won’t have to lift a finger.”
“Well, I already have a plan, Dad. The day after tomorrow Miss Benson is having her annual geography contest. The person with the best score will win a globe that revolves on a stand. Oh, Dad, wouldn’t it be nice to have a globe of my own?”
“Yes, Winnie, that would be nice,” replied Dad. “How stiff is the competition?”
“Well,” said Winnie, “that’s where Arthur comes in. He’s the best geography student because his dad is in the service. Arthur’s lived in Germany and Japan, and he knows a lot about geography. But I’m going to beat him!” she declared.
“Well, just do your best, dear, and do it for the right reasons,” cautioned Dad.
At school the next day Winnie took advantage of every available minute to study. When she got home, she looked at the map of the world in her geography book. It looked like a big jigsaw puzzle.
“If all those pieces were jumbled up in a box, I couldn’t put them together in a million years,” Winnie grumbled. Then she thought of Arthur. “Well, I’ll do it—one way or another!”
Winnie grabbed her geography workbook, tore out the world map, taped it to a sheet of notebook paper, and placed it in her book bag. She’d beat Arthur even if she had to cheat!
As Winnie read her Bible that night, she came to Luke 18:14: “For every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.”
With her Bible still open, Winnie closed her eyes and prayed, “Dear Heavenly Father, does abased mean that Arthur Mosely is going to be brought down a notch or two, and does exalted mean that I’m going to finally get a little honor? Well, Heavenly Father, I’m going to help You do just that! In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.” Winnie shut the Bible, turned out the light, and went to sleep.
In class the next day Miss Benson finally said, “All right, students, clear your desks and get ready for the geography test.”
Winnie’s heart pounded, and her hands were moist.
The first question was to list the states on the eastern seaboard of the United States. That was easy. Number two asked for the countries that bordered Vietnam. Winnie thought and thought, but she just couldn’t picture Vietnam in her mind. I’ll have to use my map, Winnie thought. She stared at the test. As she reached for her notebook paper with the map on the back, she remembered the words of Dad’s prayer, “Help us to … bring honor to Thy name.”
Winnie stared blankly at the test for a minute. Then she lifted her head, straightened her shoulders, and breathed a sigh of relief. She left number two blank and proceeded to answer all the questions she could without the use of the map. Her hands became dry and steady, and her breathing slowed to normal.
When Winnie went to bed that evening, she said her nightly prayers. “Thank you, Heavenly Father, for helping me not to cheat on the test. If I had cheated, we’d both have been disappointed in me, and Dad would have been disappointed too. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
The next day Winnie watched Miss Benson award the prizes to the winners. Even when Arthur Mosely was presented with the globe, Winnie knew that in the things that really mattered she was a winner.

On an afternoon a few months ago, Susan and I inventoried our food storage and emergency supplies. At the time, COVID-19 was spreading rapidly, and a series of earthquakes had jolted our home in Utah. We have worked since the earliest days of our marriage to follow prophetic counsel about preparing for unforeseen challenges, so “examining” our state of readiness in the midst of the virus and earthquakes seemed like a good and timely thing to do. We wanted to find out our grades on these unannounced tests.
We learned a great deal. In many areas, our preparatory work was just right. In some other areas, however, improvement was necessary because we had not recognized and addressed particular needs in timely ways.
We also laughed a lot. We discovered, for example, items in a remote closet that had been in our food storage for decades. Frankly, we were afraid to open and inspect some of the containers for fear of unleashing another global pandemic! But you should be happy to know that we properly disposed of the hazardous materials and that health risk to the world was eliminated.

Being alone in living the gospel did not break down his faith. When he determined to serve a mission, he was willing to give up the jujitsu practices and competitions he loved—something that had been part of his life from childhood—to work and save money for a mission. Jujitsu, he says, was an art form for him. “I felt like a painter painting a picture when I practiced.” But working left him no time to practice.
Before leaving his hometown of Mystowice to serve as a missionary, Elder Tomaszewski left a challenge for his younger brother Patryk, who was also deeply involved in jujitsu. “If you want to find out why I’m doing this, why I’m giving up my sport, read the Book of Mormon and pray about it.”
And what has been his best day as a missionary?
The day he learned that his younger brother had taken his challenge to read and pray about the Book of Mormon. Patryk Tomaszewski also received a testimony. He was baptized in August 2004.
Now there are two Tomaszewskis to share the joy of the gospel.

When I was a college student and I began to learn about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, good friends again made a difference for me. I remember well my first visit to an LDS ward, which met in a tiny community hall. The moment I stepped out of the car, my college friends swarmed around me. “It’s great to see you!” they said. “So glad you could make it!” I had never shaken hands with so many people in my life. “Wonderful to have you here,” said people I’d never met. “Come back again.” I’m still touched by that ward’s love for me, a stranger.
Everything going on about me that day felt strange. The worship service I had experienced as an altar boy was very structured and extremely quiet. The Latter-day Saint worship service was so different—so much fellowshipping before the meeting, so many new ideas to think about and new things to experience. As I sat in that hall, I had many questions and doubts. But the warmth and friendship of Church members helped me to feel comfortable. Then, as I studied the gospel, the witness of the Holy Ghost helped me want to be baptized.
I am grateful for the restored truths available only in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. And I am grateful for the friends who helped me to find those truths.
As children who belong to the Church of Jesus Christ, you are blessed to know so much about our Heavenly Father and His Son. Your faith will grow as you attend church, pray, and study the scriptures on your own and with your family.
As you make good choices for your own life, please reach out to others who are not members of the Church or who may not attend church regularly. Welcome them to Primary. Smile. Sit next to someone who is new. Ask about others’ interests, and always speak kindly. The love you share will help those around you make good choices and come to know the Savior Jesus Christ and the teachings of His restored gospel.

My childhood friend began to see changes in me week by week. I invited her to my missionary meetings. As she listened, she also felt the Holy Ghost and gained a testimony. When the COVID-19 crisis slowed down, my fiancé, now active in the Church, was finally able to come to Taiwan. We got married, and he baptized me. I was a new person.
Sister Canfield with Jin Hua, a lifelong friend who became interested in the Church through Sister Canfield’s conversion.

President Russell M. Nelson, then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, told the following story:
“On a recent flight, our pilot announced that we would encounter turbulence during our descent and that all passengers must fasten their seat belts securely. Sure enough, turbulence came. It was really rough. Across the aisle and a couple of rows behind me, a terrified woman panicked. With each frightening drop and jarring bump, she screamed loudly. Her husband tried to comfort her but to no avail. Her hysterical shouts persisted until we passed through that zone of turbulence to a safe landing. During her period of anxiety, I felt sorry for her. Because faith is the antidote for fear, I silently wished that I could have strengthened her faith. . . .
“When we speak of faith—the faith that can move mountains—we are not speaking of faith in general but of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.”1
Like this woman’s perilous journey, we face obstacles and trials in this life, events that can make us doubt our faith and make us lose assurance that we need prophets, seers, and revelators on our own flight leading to eternal life.

Our family had made the German adjustment well. In addition to assimilating another language and culture, we had been lovingly accepted into our little branch. However, we knew that our time in Trier would be relatively short.

Theaters in Germany are classified according to their size, the number of orchestra members, and available finances. Trier is a small “city theatre” and is listed among European theaters as a “D” house. The dream of every opera singer is to be employed as a soloist in an “A” house. “A” houses, or theaters, are comparable to the Metropolitan Opera Company in New York City and La Scala in Milan. They include such opera theaters as Hamburg, Munich, Berlin, and the Vienna State Opera.

It was also my goal to sing in such theaters. I had worked hard and had done everything in my power to climb the rungs to a “C” house on my way to the larger opera stages. I shudder to think how many auditions I sang and how many times I heard the words “Thank you. You will hear from us if we need you.” Many of my colleagues were landing jobs in “C” and “B” houses. With each audition and each rejection, my confidence and hope waned.

Three years passed. One afternoon I received a call from an agent in Vienna. He had seen me in the tenor role of Cassio in the opera Othello and had recommended me to Eberhardt Waechter. Herr Waechter was looking for a tenor soloist to complete the ensemble for his upcoming position as director of the Vienna Volksoper.

Before I boarded the train for Frankfurt, where the audition was to be held, Jeannie and I once again prayed for guidance. We had worked and prepared in every way possible and were trying to be patient. We shared our dream yet again with the Lord and put the outcome in His hands. Just a few hours later I called Jeannie with the miraculous news that I had, indeed, signed a contract. It wasn’t until later that I learned that the Volksoper was an “A” house.

With deep reverence and gratitude, my thoughts turned to the words “Neither shall your vine cast her fruit before the time in the field, saith the Lord of hosts” (Malachi 3:11; see also 3 Nephi 24:11).

Had I been offered a contract after any of the previous auditions, I would have immediately signed away the next several years of my life. I believe success had been withheld until my voice, my acting ability, and my command of the language had ripened. Even after signing, I had two additional years of preparation before the contract went into effect.

Chris awoke to the sounds of excited voices. It was the first day of school, and everyone was bustling about, trying to get back into the familiar routine. He could hear his sister, Cathy, chattering to herself as she tried on one outfit after another. She was starting sixth grade and wanted to look just right.
Even though his eyes were closed, Chris knew from the banging of the dresser drawers that his older brother, Mike, was also getting dressed.
Both Cathy and Mike were excited about the new school year. Chris wasn’t, though, which was why he pretended to still be asleep. “Better hurry, kid,” Mike said as he gave Chris a nudge. “You’ll miss your bus if you don’t get going.”
“Maybe I want to miss my bus,” Chris sighed. “Then I wouldn’t have to go to first grade again.”
Mike gave his brother an understanding look, then bent over to mess up his hair a bit. “Don’t worry,” he said assuredly, “it will only hurt today.”
“What do you mean, ‘It will only hurt today’?” Chris asked as he forced himself out from under the covers.
“I mean that you’ll probably be embarrassed a little today, but by tomorrow, you’ll realize that it isn’t that big a deal to anyone but yourself.”
After Mike left the room, Chris pulled on his clothes. He remembered how the other students had teased him last year when he couldn’t read as well as they could. He especially remembered the teasing that he’d had to endure when they learned that he would have to repeat first grade. Alan Thomas had teased him the most. He wasn’t a good reader, either, and he’d often made fun of Chris during reading time so that the other children wouldn’t notice his own mistakes.
“Ready to go?” Cathy asked as she poked her head into the boys’ room. “Dad says to hurry down for family prayer.”
The family was already kneeling in a circle when Chris entered the living room. As he found a spot, he felt the love and comfort that prayer always gave him. It was Mike’s turn to pray. After pausing a moment to look at his little brother, he closed his eyes and began. It was a wonderful prayer. Chris liked to hear his older brother pray because he always seemed to say just the right things.
Mike mentioned Chris and asked Heavenly Father to comfort him. He also asked Heavenly Father to prompt the other children to be kind to him and to not tease him. After the prayer, the whole family, in turn, gave Chris a little hug.
It was hard walking into the first grade class again. Chris was glad that his mother had decided to take him that morning. As he opened the door to the classroom, he saw the familiar painted walls. Mrs. Sanders looked the same, too, and she seemed very happy to see him. “I’m glad that you came a bit early, Chris,” she began. “I need someone who can help me set up for the new students. I imagine that they’ll be a little confused.”
Suddenly the door opened again. “Wonderful!” Mrs. Sanders exclaimed. “Now I have two students to be my helpers this morning.”
Chris turned around to see whom Mrs. Sanders was speaking to. There, standing in the doorway and looking very uncomfortable, was Alan Thomas! Chris quickly turned in astonishment to his mom and caught her quick smile and wink.
The day went by quickly. Chris made friends with two of his new classmates, and he even asked Alan to join them in a game of foursquare during recess.
Chris found that he knew his alphabet better than anyone else and that he was one of the best readers in the class. He decided that he was going to like going to first grade again. Mike had been right—it really did hurt for only a little while.

Just a few months before I turned 14, I broke my leg. I was in a full-leg cast for two weeks and a shorter cast that came to my knee for four more. Because of my injury, I went to the last two weeks of school on crutches, and I couldn’t go on the girls’ camp backpacking trip or our family boating trip. I needed help getting in and out of the car, and my siblings weren’t very happy that I always needed the front seat so I would have room for my cast. Overall, I was miserable. I couldn’t walk, run, or play with my friends, and I was tired and in pain much of the time.
One day I was in the car with my mom and my brother. We were on the way home from running several errands. We stopped at one more store so my mom could quickly pick something up. She and my brother went into the store, and I opted to stay in the car. It wasn’t worth it to get out my crutches for such a quick trip. I had felt dejected all that day. I felt like I couldn’t do anything for myself except sit around. I couldn’t have any fun, and I felt like a burden to everybody around me.
At the peak of feeling sorry for myself, I noticed a copy of the Book of Mormon in a pocket of the car door. The missionaries had asked us to keep this copy in the car so we would have it handy to give away if the opportunity came. I pulled the book out and opened it to a random page. As I looked down, my eyes focused on the first few verses of 2 Nephi 2. As I read, I felt like these words in the second verse were written for me, for this very moment: “Thou knowest the greatness of God; and he shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain” (2 Nephi 2:2). In a moment when I felt afflicted and miserable, Heavenly Father spoke to me through the Book of Mormon and told me that He cared about me and that everything was going to be OK.
When my mom and brother returned to the car, I was smiling. They probably noticed the change, but I felt too quiet and peaceful inside to explain everything to them. I put the Book of Mormon back in its place, but I kept looking at it and remembering the words of Lehi that had brought me so much comfort. I also kept smiling. I couldn’t help but think that the missionaries’ request for our family to keep a copy of the Book of Mormon in our car wasn’t just for investigators.
At home, I pulled out my personal scriptures. I turned to 2 Nephi 2:2 and marked in red the words that had comforted me. A couple of months later I could walk and run just fine because my leg was healed. Of course, other trials came into my life later on. Many times when I feel alone and miserable, I remember how I felt that day waiting in the car. I still often turn to the passage marked in red in my scriptures, and I always find comfort there.

1. One talk I heard over twenty years ago illustrates how effective a talk can be when the speaker chooses the proper subject material and is personally familiar with that subject.
While living in New Jersey, I owned and operated a business that sold kitchen cabinets; and since I had built and installed kitchen cabinets for many years, I was well aware of quality construction and proud of our own custom woodwork. When I was approached by a large cabinet manufacturing firm from Pennsylvania who wanted us to sell their cabinets, I responded that I would decide after I had visited their factory and had seen their product.
While visiting the factory with other prospective dealers, I heard a man deliver a talk on how he was responsible for the shipping crates the cabinets were delivered in. This man’s vocabulary was not very broad, nor did he expound on any profound subject. But he was familiar with his subject material; it fit his speech capabilities and certainly fit the occasion; and it was very enlightening and interesting.
When the man was through talking, he took a regular cabinet directly from the factory and crated it. Then he took that cabinet and a second cabinet crated by a competitor and dropped both out of a second-story window. The cabinet our speaker had crated survived with hardly a scratch, while the other was damaged beyond repair. Words and demonstration combined to give an unforgettable impression—and convinced me that the product was good. A prime example of how words and a visual aid can motivate!

Our son Dan got very sick on his mission in Africa and was taken to a medical facility with limited resources. As we read his first letter to us after his illness, we expected that he would be discouraged, but instead he wrote, “Even as I lay in the emergency room, I felt peace. I have never been so consistently and resiliently happy in my life.”
As my wife and I read these words, we were overcome with emotion. Consistently and resiliently happy. We had never heard happiness described that way, but his words rang true. We knew that the happiness he described was not simply pleasure or an elevated mood but a peace and joy that come when we surrender ourselves to God and put our trust in Him in all things. We too had had those times in our lives when God spoke peace to our souls and caused us to have hope in Christ even when life was hard and uncertain.