Gospel Story Finder

When we moved to the United States, great trials began for me. We attended a small branch and I had great leaders who wanted to help me, but my school friends tried to pull me off the gospel path. Unfortunately, I began to speak to my mother in an unkind way and rarely listened to her counsel.
I would go to church every Sunday, but I really didn’t have the desire to go, and I didn’t know if I wanted to go on a mission anymore.
One morning I opened the Book of Mormon, and it opened exactly to the page of my favorite scripture, 3 Nephi 12:14–16:
“Verily, verily, I say unto you, I give unto you to be the light of this people. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hid.
“Behold, do men light a candle and put it under a bushel? Nay, but on a candlestick, and it giveth light to all that are in the house;
“Therefore let your light so shine before this people, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven.”
It gave me great joy to read this because it helped me remember what I learned in seminary and how marvelous the plan of our Father is. So I decided to try to be a light to the world.
I invited two cousins to come to church. One was less active, and he became active. The other was not a member, and I was able to baptize him.
A year later I received my mission call to serve in California, USA. As I served, I saw without a doubt that this is the true gospel of Jesus Christ. As I helped people, my testimony grew more and more, and every time I read my scriptures, I always recited the passage in 3 Nephi to be a light unto the world.

While reading through the May 2007 issue of the Liahona, I was deeply moved by Elder Jay E. Jensen’s talk, “The Nourishing Power of Hymns.” I too have a strong testimony of the power of hymns. In February 2000, while listening to a local radio show, I heard a song I had never heard before. I not only enjoyed the flow of the music, but I also enjoyed the manner in which the group sang and the message the song carried. I later learned that this song was by a group called Latter-day Saints. I wanted to get the full text of this song. I decided I must visit this church. The first Sunday I attended, my first task was to get a hymnbook. There it was—hymn number 30, “Come, Come, Ye Saints.” I was baptized a few months later.
Richard S. Scotland, Liberia

“Wash your hands for supper,” Mother called from the kitchen. “Our home teachers are coming tonight. They’ll be here at seven o’clock.”
Ryan liked their home teachers to come. One—Brother Toft—was a real jet fighter pilot and told awesome stories. Ryan lived near the Air Force base. Every time an airplane zoomed overhead, he and his sister, Becky, rushed outside to wave, just in case Brother Toft was in it.
Ryan had a lot on his mind these days. Soon he was to have open-heart surgery. He wasn’t really sure what that meant, but he had been in several hospitals and had seen many doctors. Looking at his soapy hands in the running water, he remembered a doctor’s hands in see-through gloves. “This won’t hurt you,” the doctor had promised. “The gloves just keep my hands clean so that I don’t give you any germs.” Ryan thought now, Maybe if I got see-through gloves, I wouldn’t have to wash up so much!
Dessert was the best part of supper. Mother served scoops of ice cream; then Becky stuck a chocolate sandwich cookie into the top of Ryan’s treat and teased, “Here’s your favorite.”
He did enjoy cookies! The last time he stayed in the hospital, a nurse had asked, “What would you like?” Ryan didn’t know that she was offering him a drink, and when he’d answered, “I like cookies,” she smiled. “We’ll see what we can do about that.” She came back with two cookies in a plastic bag. Ryan had been too ill to eat them, but he’d held onto them until his stomach felt better.
“Bring your dishes over, Ryan,” Mother said, interrupting his thoughts. “Hurry—let’s get the kitchen cleaned up before the home teachers come.”
Ryan carried his dishes to the sink, then skipped to the front window and looked down the hillside. “I’ll watch for their car!”
“I hope they come in Brother Odahlan’s cute pumpkin beetle car,” Becky said.
Ryan hoped so too. He wondered what it would be like to ride in the little orange car all the way to Primary Children’s Medical Center. It would take all the next day to make that trip in Daddy’s big car, he knew. “Here they come! I see the pumpkin car.”
Becky and Ryan met the home teachers at the door. Entering in Sunday suits, Brother Toft and young Brother Odahlan looked like missionaries. Ryan’s brother, Rick, was on a mission to Greece. Ryan didn’t know where Greece was, but he had watched Rick climb onto a huge airplane to fly to the “other side of the world.” I hope I live to be a missionary, Ryan thought.
Brother Toft carried a brown paper bag. It looked heavy. “We have a special message for Ryan tonight,” he began. “Would you sit here between us?”
Ryan eagerly climbed up on the sofa between his home teachers.
“Now, Ryan, tonight’s lesson is for you, but is it all right if the rest of your family listens too?” Ryan having grinned permission, Brother Toft opened his scriptures. “The Book of Mormon tells us about a time when Jesus Christ came to our continent.”
Brother Odahlan said, “While he was here, he did many good things. For example, he taught the people to pray always and that anytime anyone needed help, he could ask Heavenly Father for it. Do you know how to pray?”
Ryan nodded.
“Jesus called the sick to him and blessed each of them,” Brother Toft added. “He also called all the children to him and blessed them. Ryan, did you know that the same priesthood power Jesus used is in this room tonight?” Brother Toft pointed to Ryan’s father. “Your dad holds this priesthood power.”
Ryan smiled at Dad. He wanted to be just like Dad. He hoped that he would grow up and hold the priesthood, too, someday.
Brother Toft assisted as Dad gave Ryan a blessing. In it, Heavenly Father promised that Ryan would have a good heart surgery and would get better. Ryan knew that it was true. He felt happy.
After a family prayer, the home teachers had a surprise. Ryan watched Brother Odahlan open the large brown paper bag and take out gifts. “These are for you, Ryan. Do you want to open them in the car on your way to Utah, in the hospital, or right now?”
That wasn’t a hard decision! Everyone watched as Ryan opened gift after gift. There were toys and games and books and crayons—even a bucket of animal cookies to eat on the way to the hospital in Salt Lake City.
Finally there was one present left. Brother Toft held it up high. “This one is different,” he said. “This one is for you to give to Becky.”
Willingly Ryan handed it over and watched Becky unwrap it. Thirty colorful candy sticks were tied with a pretty ribbon.
“That is a candy calendar, Becky.” Brother Odahlan explained. “You can eat one candy stick each day that your mother and Ryan are gone.”
“Our home teachers think of everything,” Mother said.
“My young companion helps me,” Brother Toft admitted. “He came up with the idea for this lesson.”
That night Ryan packed his treasures for the trip. “I’m glad that Jesus sends us home teachers,” he whispered when Mother tucked him into bed that night. “I think that, in a way, they’re going with me, and I’m glad.”

Maria twirled in the pretty new Sunday dress that her grandmother had made for her. It was pink with white ribbons. It was the prettiest dress Maria had ever had, and she felt very beautiful in it. She smiled at herself in the mirror and twirled again to make the skirt fan out. Maria was excited to go to church on Sunday to show her friends her new dress.
At church Maria liked hearing all her friends say nice things about her dress. In Primary she played with the ribbons on her dress instead of listening to Sister Sánchez’s lesson.
Maria didn’t pay attention to the testimonies people gave in sacrament meeting either. She was busy untying and retying each of the bows on her dress over and over again.
When the meeting was over, she noticed that some people had tears in their eyes as they left the chapel.
“Why are those people crying, Mama?” Maria asked.
“They felt the Spirit today,” Mama said as she wiped away a tear of her own. “And sometimes that brings tears to our eyes. The testimonies were wonderful, weren’t they?”
Maria didn’t answer. She couldn’t remember anything anyone had said.
That night as Mama tucked Maria into bed, Maria asked, “Why didn’t I feel the Spirit in church today, Mama?”
“The Spirit speaks in a still, small voice,” Mama said. “We must pay attention to notice it. When we go to church, we need to think about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ—then we can feel the Spirit.”
Maria thought about what she had been thinking about at church that day. She had been thinking about her new dress, not about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
The next week Maria wore her pretty pink dress to church again. But she listened to Sister Sánchez in Primary. In sacrament meeting she tried to think about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Maria left church feeling the Spirit in her heart. She was glad she had gone to church not just to show off her new dress.

His love of drawing has given him a chance to cheer others and has helped him gain some interesting friends as well. When Brad was 11, he was watching a car race on television. He was stunned to see a car crash and burn in the pits. One of the men severely injured was Derrick Walker, the manager of a racing team.
“I drew a race car and sent it to him in the hospital as a get-well card. After that, he sent me a thank-you letter. We’ve been friends ever since,” says Brad. That simple correspondence has blossomed into a special relationship. Since then, Walker and Roger Penske, another racing friend, have flown Brad and a guest to major races each year. Brad’s thoughtfulness as a young boy proved that caring and concern are not limited to the physically able.

On one occasion, I received the assignment to visit a stake located in the beautiful mountains of the Peruvian highlands. This unit of the Church had not been visited by a General Authority for more than two years because of the dangers involved in traveling there. After obtaining proper authorization, and with the help of the mission president, we commenced the five-hour trip that took us to the beautiful Mantaro River valley.
When we arrived at the stake center, the president and his counselors were waiting for us. Upon seeing us, their faces lit up with happiness and we joined in a strong, brotherly embrace. Some three years previously, two of our beloved missionaries had been killed in this city. After embracing the president close to my heart, trying to communicate to him all my love, I asked, “Have you suffered greatly during this time in which we haven’t been able to come?” He answered with his eyes filled with tears, “Yes, we have suffered greatly, but we have kept the faith.” This simple phrase touched our hearts, and we could feel that the hand of the Lord had been with them.
As we met with them, we were able to distinguish at least five principles which aided them to overcome their difficulties.
First: They never stopped trusting in the Lord, and they placed all of their faith in him. This was the foundation for their assurance. They trusted in the fact that he would protect and guide them. The Lord has said, “If ye will have faith in me ye shall have power to do whatsoever thing is expedient in me” (Moro. 7:33).
Occasionally, in the midst of our desperation, we seek other ways, other guides. But those who counsel us are not always prepared to help, because they do not understand our spiritual needs. They are not prepared to give us the counsel and the revelation that we truly need.
We have the great example of the sons of Mosiah, who endured so much adversity and so many trials. Because of the trust they had in the Lord, “the Lord did visit them with his Spirit, and said unto them: Be comforted. And they were comforted. …
“Yet ye shall be patient in long-suffering and afflictions, that ye may show forth good examples unto them in me, and I will make an instrument of thee in my hands unto the salvation of many souls” (Alma 17:10–11).
Second: They remained faithful in prayer. Each member, whether adult, child, or adolescent, faithfully followed this holy practice each day, praying individually and as families with all of their faith. As we know, prayer is the means by which we communicate with our Heavenly Father. He listens to us because we are his children and he loves us, and he is anxious to bless us when we keep the commandments.
As the Savior instructed the Nephites, he taught them: “Therefore ye must always pray unto the Father in my name;
“And whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, which is right, believing that ye shall receive, behold it shall be given unto you” (3 Ne. 18:19–20). No one could have given them greater assurance that they would be heard by the Father than his own Son.
Third: They never stopped studying the scriptures. In the scriptures they found faith to overcome fear, solutions to their problems, divine comfort from the Master, the loving counsel of the Father, and especially the assurance of being guided in righteousness towards eternal life. “Search the scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are they which testify of me” (John 5:39). They lived this commandment even in the midst of all their difficulties. One of them said, “We have never been as close to the Lord as when we were reading the scriptures.”
Fourth: They implemented priesthood programs. Due to the fatal incident that had taken place there, it was necessary to remove full-time missionaries. In order to make up for the help that was lost, it became necessary to organize the returned missionaries so that they could teach the gospel to those who wanted to hear it. References came in from member families. Home teaching increased. Nobody was overlooked. Just as they said, they kept the faith.
Fifth: They humbled themselves before the Lord. They purified their lives, they repented, they tried to live together as Saints, sharing much of what they had, fasting when problems arose or when they were threatened. The Lord, speaking to Solomon said, “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land” (2 Chr. 7:14).
These simple yet powerful principles enabled them to sustain themselves, to be preserved, to remain faithful and active as members of the Church in that area.
What wonderful teachings we are able to find in these distant and isolated villages, where frequently it is difficult to sustain a religion or to live the principles of the gospel. Only their confidence in God and their faith in Jesus Christ sustain them, move them, and purify them.
Keeping the faith must also be a challenge for those who are alone in the Church, for those whose families are not converted, for those who have lost loved ones. Great courage is needed in order to continue onward, but we always have comfort from on high.
The faithful pioneers in the early days of the restored Church set a marvelous example of moving forward in faith despite adversity. It is difficult to conceive of the great loneliness of the people of the Church during those first years when they were a small group, the only Church members on all the face of the earth. They were persecuted, humiliated, rejected, and some were killed. The faith which they developed in the Lord, in the face of so much adversity, made them strong and humble at the same time.
President Kimball said regarding this theme, “Suffering can make Saints of people as they learn patience, long suffering and self-mastery. The sufferings of our Savior were part of his education” (“Tragedy or Destiny,” Brigham Young University Speeches of the Year, Provo, Utah, 6 Dec. 1955, p. 5).
Perhaps isolation makes small and distant towns and villages stronger and more pure.
At the close of the conference in that stake, I assured the members that God loved them, that the First Presidency and the Twelve Apostles were mindful of them, and that we were there to give them our testimony of the fact that they were part of the Church, that we had not forgotten them, and that we prayed for them. There was gratitude in their hearts, and again they smiled as humble members who had been comforted by the Spirit of the Lord. As he gave the closing prayer, a man nearly 80 years of age reminded the congregation that President Spencer W. Kimball had visited here, that he had blessed Mantaro Valley.
It made me think how fortunate so many of us are to be so often in the presence of the prophets of God and to receive their loving influence. But due to the worldwide growth of the Church, a large number of our good members have never had the privilege to be near one of these wonderful leaders at any time during their lives. But I testify to you that they love the General Authorities, that they are following their teachings, and that they await humbly and patiently the day in which they can be at the feet of the prophets.
The conditions of peoples and of nations change due to progress in the world; nevertheless, in many such places, be it in the frosty mountain heights, in the warm valleys, at the rivers’ edges, or in desert places, wherever members of our church are found, there will always be those who live these basic principles, and by so doing they bless the rest of the people. Let us face our earthly challenges courageously in spite of where we live, or through whatever difficult circumstances we may be called to endure. Let us keep the faith.

A true story from Singapore.
“It’s time for our art lesson!” Madam Nadirah said. She carried a big box to the front of the classroom. The box had bottles of paint and paintbrushes sticking out of it.
Adam smiled. He loved art time! They always worked in groups on their projects. Maybe this time he would get to be with one of his friends.
Madam Nadirah pointed at the first table. “Group one is Enzo, Ivan, Mei Ling, and Adam.”
Adam stood and moved to sit at the table. He didn’t know anyone in his group. But he was good at making friends. Maybe they would become new friends!
Once everyone found their group, Madam Nadirah started to pass out supplies. “Your challenge is to use these items to make art,” she said.
She put three cups on each table. Adam leaned forward to look inside their cups. One cup had nutshells in it, another had wooden sticks, and the last one had colorful beads.
Adam frowned. He didn’t know what to make with these things.
“You only have time to make one project,” Madam Nadirah said. “So work together to decide what you are going to make.”
Loud chatter filled the room as the groups started planning their projects.
“What should we make?” Adam asked his group.
Mei Ling pointed at the sticks. “Definitely a tree. The sticks can be the trunk and branches, and the nutshells can be the leaves.”
“What would we use the beads for?” Enzo asked.
“Some of the beads are green,” Adam said. “Maybe we can use them for leaves.”
Ivan shook his head. “No, we should make a house. The nutshells are for the roof. The sticks are for the walls, and the beads are for the windows.” He grabbed some shells and sticks to show them.
Mei Ling snatched the last cup away before Ivan could get the beads. “But I want to make a tree!”
“Well, I want to make a house!” Ivan tried to grab the cup back from Mei Ling.
Adam looked at his new friends. He didn’t want them to fight. But they were only allowed to make one project. They couldn’t make a tree and a house.
Then Adam had an idea. Maybe there was a way they could do both. “What if we make a house in a tree?”
Mei Ling and Ivan stopped fighting over the cup of beads and looked at Adam.
“Like a treehouse?” Mei Ling asked.
“Yeah!”
Mei Ling set the cup back down on the table. “OK.”
Ivan nodded. “Let’s do it!”
Adam got paper and glue from the art box. Enzo picked out paint colors. Then they started making their treehouse. At first, Mei Ling and Ivan only worked on the parts they wanted. But soon they were all working together and laughing when paint got on their fingers.
Slowly their sticks, shells, and beads turned into a tall, colorful treehouse. Adam added a nutshell to the roof.
“I didn’t know making a treehouse would be so fun,” Ivan said. He glued another bead to the tree.
“Yeah, this was a great idea!” Mei Ling said.
Adam smiled. It was fun to work together. He hoped he could work with his new friends again for the next art lesson!

I ran and ran, trying to get away from it. I ran up the hill by our house and sat down at the base of a giant tree.

The mountains were sucking down the purple and pink clouds and orange sun like pancake batter sucks down an egg. I stopped crying, finally. What was I going to do? Maybe I’d never see my mother again. For the first time I felt alone in the universe—like in the movies when they try to add something in the picture that doesn’t really belong. You can tell it’s fake because its edges are too black. I had black edges; I could feel them.

At the bottom of the hill was a little girl. I was close enough to see the dirt streaked on her face. Even the dirt couldn’t hide her big grin. She had an old car tire and was pushing it up the hill. It broke loose from her and rolled away, then fell over. She went back and picked it up, then started rolling it up the hill again. She couldn’t have been more than four or five. It made me sad to see her tire keep getting away. I was even sadder that she kept patiently picking it up again and rolling it up the hill. I wanted to shout to her: “Little girl, don’t do it, don’t try. It will just keep rolling down the hill. No matter how hard you try, that tire will roll and roll until you’re finally too tired to pick it up again. That’s the way life is.” I was so sad I almost bawled again. I buried my head in my arms. I couldn’t watch anymore.

When I finally looked up, there was a little boy, older than the girl, running down the hill. He reached her and picked up the tire. Both of them began to push. Maybe, I thought … maybe. Both kids just kept pushing that old tire up the hill. If it got away from one of them, the other would catch it before it rolled down the hill. Boy, I wanted those kids to get that tire up the hill! It was such a dumb thing, but right then it was the most important thing in the world. C’mon, kids, roll that tire! C’mon! They kept getting farther and farther up the hill. By the time they reached the top, I was crying again. It was stupid, but I was so glad.

I hadn’t seen the rest of them, but there were nine kids at the top of that hill, including the girl and boy. They all began running down the hill, rolling the tires with them.

“Roller-O! Roller-O! Roller-O!” They shouted again and again as they raced the tires down the hill. “Roller-OOOOOO!”

I closed my eyes and laughed. Maybe there was someone there to help when you needed it after all. I watched those kids for a long time as the gold streaked across the sky to meet the sun. I watched while the purple clouds turned blacker and blacker until it was dark.

“Roller-O!”

When it got dark, the kids’ mom called them in for the night. I got up and walked down the hill. There was a sliver of a yellow moon just rising in the sky. Millions of stars were beginning to shine. I walked into our garden and right there decided to kneel down. The ground was damp. I thought about those kids for a while, then about dad, then about Dan. I started bawling again. Boy, I was sorry I’d yelled at him.

“Dear Father, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I went to the show. I’m sorry I yelled at Dan and called him names. I’m sorry I do bad stuff. I wish I didn’t. Father, I’m sorry I said all that stuff. I don’t really hate you the most. I love you—the very most! I really do, and even if you don’t answer my prayer, I’ll wait, forever if I have to.” I started sobbing.

“Heavenly Father, I’m so, so sorry, but it’s hard. Please, God, it’s hard, so hard.” I cried, and the stars came out one by one to watch me.

Something changed. It was like a light that’s slant is bent, just a little different. It was like rays going through a prism: when they hit the right angle, they split into every color making a rainbow. Somehow, I couldn’t explain it. He knew it was hard, and he loved me. I breathed deep and sighed. The stars twinkled in the sky.

After a while I got up, brushed the dirt off my pants, and ran into the house, right past dad and into Dan’s room.

Dan was still sitting on the bed holding that basketball. I didn’t even know if he’d had supper.

I stood there in the doorway until he looked up. I probably looked awful to him, all swollen around the eyes and dirty besides.

Danny jumped up and ran toward me. Before I knew what was happening, we were hugging the breath out of each other. My lungs were bursting, and I was afraid I was cracking his ribs. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t have any tears left. I guess they were just all gone.

Dan sat me down on the bed. He really was good-looking. I loved his big brown eyes.

“Danny, are you glad, now, that we took that record back that one time?”

I knew it was dumb to ask him, but it was important to me.

He shook his head. “Am I glad? Yeah … I don’t know … I guess we’ll see.” He grinned. “Mauri, you know what? You are so weird sometimes.”

I was so glad, just so happy. I picked up Dan’s pillow off the bed and clobbered him; then I ran out the door with Dan right behind me. Boy, oh boy, was I in for trouble.

Two missionaries in the New Zealand Christchurch Mission decided that more people needed to know just how important families are—so they decided to build a float to tell them. Elder Dick Bybee and Elder Jeff Jarvic entered the resulting “Families Are Forever” float in the Blossom Festival parade in Alexandra. The float was shown on television and to the 15,000 visitors who came to the festival. Local Church members helped work on the float, which in turn helped open doors in town for the missionaries.

I would like to tell you about a little bird that was lying on the parking lot pavement. During the night it had been blown from its nest by the high winds in the storm. Apparently hatched just a few days earlier, it had few feathers, but enough to identify it as just a common sparrow.
As it lay there awaiting whatever fate would come, a young woman walking to her car in the parking lot saw the little sparrow and picked it up. Feeling sympathy for the helpless little bird, she took it home to care for it. She prepared a nest in a basket with soft tissues, which were changed often to keep a clean and comfortable bed for the little bird.
She fed it often each day, watching it gain strength, and within a few days it opened its eyes and could see for the first time. It saw the girl who fed it and the family who lived in the home. It heard and became accustomed to the sounds around it, and it was not afraid.
As the days passed, it was able to hop about, and it was taken from the basket and put into a clean birdcage.
It trusted the girl and the family, and when it wanted food it would chirp and flutter its growing wings rapidly, and when the cage door was opened it would hop out onto the girl’s hand and sit there patiently while she fed it.
It would sit on her hand as she walked through the house and even when she went outside. To help it become accustomed to the outside world where it soon would have to live, she would take it out on the lawn, where she and her sister would sit under the tree and visit while the bird would look and observe all around it.
It came time for the girl and her sister to go to girls’ camp, so the bird went with them and spent the week on Cedar Mountain with the girls. It was there that it tried to fly for the first time, flying from the girl’s hand to the low branches in a nearby tree.
It was glad to come back to the familiar hand and security of the girl’s love, and although it was learning to fly, it did not leave. When the girls’ camp was over, the bird came home with the girls and continued its flying lessons.
The girl, realizing the bird must soon join its own kind, took it out on the front lawn and encouraged it to fly away. It flew across the lawn to a small pine tree, where it perched and looked around. The girl left it there, assuming it would now join the other birds, and she returned into the home.
It wasn’t long before a chirping could be heard outside in front of the home, and when the girl went out to see what the bird was chirping about, it flew out of the tree and landed back on her hand, and she fed it.
For the first few nights the bird would come back to the house and want to come in with the family for the night. Soon, however, it began to stay out with newly found friends living in the trees close by the home. When the girl would go outside and whistle, it would respond and return and land on her hand, and my daughter, Trinilee, would feed it.
That little bird and my daughter taught me a great lesson in faith and trust. Although it was just a fraction of the size of its human friend and could be in great danger for its life amongst humans, it trusted her and had faith it would not be harmed and would be fed by her—and it responded to her beckoning call.

President Oaks also is blessed with the spiritual gift of discernment and the ability to recognize the long-term consequences of proposals, decisions, and actions. This capacity is manifested in a question he often asks himself and others: “Where will it lead?”2 A person simply cannot talk or counsel in council with President Oaks and not recognize immediately how this ability has benefitted countless individuals and families and the entire Church during his lifetime of service to the Lord.

On a summer night in 1970, President Oaks had a frightening encounter with an armed robber on Chicago’s South Side as he returned to his parked car. His wife, June, was waiting for him in the vehicle.
“Give me your money,” the young mugger demanded.
“I don’t have any,” Brother Oaks replied, showing him his empty wallet.
“Give me your car keys,” he ordered. The keys were locked in the car with Sister Oaks. “Tell her to open the car,” the robber insisted. Brother Oaks said no.
The robber threatened,“Do it, or I’ll kill you.”
Brother Oaks said firmly, “I won’t do it.”
While the robber repeated his demands and threats, Brother Oaks saw an opportunity to wrestle the gun away from the young man. As President Oaks described in a 1992 general conference message, “Just as I was about to make my move, I had a unique experience. I did not see anything or hear anything, but I knew something. I knew what would happen if I grabbed that gun. We would struggle, and I would turn the gun into that young man’s chest. It would fire, and he would die. I also understood that I must not have the blood of that young man on my conscience for the rest of my life.”3
This miraculous manifestation of the gift of discernment enabled President Oaks to resolve the confrontation and ultimately saved his own life and the life of the young robber.
More recently, in a meeting of the Missionary Executive Council, which Elder Oaks chaired at the time, we counseled together about a proposal related to the missionaries serving in a particular area of the world. After all council members had expressed their views on the matter, Elder Oaks asked several questions and summarized what had been learned. He then stated, “I do not feel we are yet settled on this matter. We should wait upon the Lord and not make a final decision now.”
Events a few months later dramatically highlighted the inspiration that attended that decision to wait. The council, acting under the inspired leadership of Elder Oaks, had been blessed to make the right decision, at the right time, and in the Lord’s way to protect the missionaries and prosper the work.

Tomorrow was Christmas, and Kaiya was worried. He wasn’t worried about getting a present or what the present would be. He was worried about his friend Minato.
Kaiya and Minato played for the same soccer club. And they went to the same school. But then Minato did not come to school for three days. He missed soccer practice too. The teacher said Minato’s father was sick. To make sure others would not get sick, Minato’s whole family would have to stay at home for two weeks.
Kaiya was worried that Minato might get sick too. He asked Mama if they could check on him. They called Minato’s mother.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “We are fine. But we haven’t been able to get our kurisumasu k?ki (Christmas cake).”
Christmas cake was Kaiya’s favorite. It had fancy white frosting and colorful decorations on top. It was a special treat in Japan. He thought Minato must feel sad to miss out.
After the phone call, Kaiya said, “Mama, let’s take them our Christmas cake. And can we take them pizza too?” He knew that saba (fish) pizza was Minato’s favorite.
Mama agreed. First they ordered the pizza. Then Mama put the Christmas cake in a box. Next they gathered some snacks and juice.
“This will help them get through the next few days,” Mama said.
Papa and Kaiya went to pick up the pizza. Then they went to Minato’s house to deliver everything. They couldn’t go inside, so they set it all at the door, rang the bell, and left.
When Kaiya got home, Mama showed him a text message from Minato’s mother. “I can’t believe you brought us a cake!” it read. “The kids are really happy. Thank you very much.”
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. It was Brother and Sister Takahashi. They were members of the Church who lived nearby.
“We brought you some higashi (rice cookies) for Christmas,” Sister Takahashi said. She held out a plate of cookies with beautiful designs.
After dinner, Kaiya and his parents ate the cookies. “Are you sad we don’t have Christmas cake?” Mom asked.
Kaiya thought about how he had helped Minato and his family. “Not really,” he said. “After all, Christmas is about giving!”

The pulpit in the Conference Center has a unique story. Following is President Gordon B. Hinckley’s account:
“I love trees. When I was a boy we lived on a farm in the summer, a fruit farm. Every year at this season we planted trees. I think I have never missed a spring since I was married, except for two or three years when we were absent from the city, that I have not planted trees. …
“Some 36 years ago I planted a black walnut [tree]. It was in a crowded area where it grew straight and tall to get the sunlight. A year ago, for some reason it died. But walnut is a precious furniture wood. I called Brother Ben Banks of the Seventy, who, before giving his full time to the Church, was in the business of hardwood lumber. He brought his two sons, one a bishop and the other recently released as a bishop and who now run the business, to look at the tree. From all they could tell it was solid, good, and beautiful wood. One of them suggested that it would make a pulpit for this hall. The idea excited me. The tree was cut down and then cut into two heavy logs. Then followed the long process of drying, first naturally and then kiln drying. The logs were cut into boards at a sawmill in Salem, Utah. The boards were then taken to Fetzer’s woodworking plant, where expert craftsmen designed and built this magnificent pulpit with that wood.
“The end product is beautiful. I wish all of you could examine it closely. It represents superb workmanship, and here I am speaking to you from the tree I grew in my backyard, where my children played and also grew.
“It is an emotional thing for me. I have planted another black walnut or two. I will be long gone before they mature. When that day comes and this beautiful pulpit has grown old, perhaps one of them will do to make a replacement. To Elder Banks and his sons, Ben and Bradley, and to the skilled workers who have designed and built this, I offer my profound thanks for making it possible to have a small touch of mine in this great hall where the voices of prophets will go out to all the world in testimony of the Redeemer of mankind.”

Randy Herrman terrified me.
It wasn’t that he was bigger than I was. He was kind of puny for his age. And he certainly wasn’t smarter, or funnier, or more creative. Nope. What intimidated me about Randy Herrman was his attitude. He wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything.
Like a villain in a melodrama, Randy appeared at school while we were all registering for the seventh grade. There were about a hundred of us in line outside the principal’s office when Randy walked up wearing a black motorcycle T-shirt. He stopped for some reason beside Travis Duncan. Then, with a little sneer, Randy reached into Travis’s open backpack—that was still on Travis’s back—fished around and pulled out a Ding Dong. Without a pause Randy bit the chocolate cake clean in half, wrapper and all.
Travis stood there for a second, in complete shock, then started yelling—a high-pitched wailing that was way too-over-the-top for a bitten Ding Dong. Finally, Mr. Squires came out of his office to see what all the commotion was about. Then the principal grabbed Randy by the shirt collar and led him down the row of kids to the detention room. As he passed, Randy looked at me with his gray eyes and smiled. It was an unspeakably cold smile that sent a shiver up my spine.
I couldn’t sleep for a week.

“What do these scriptures teach us?” Daddy asked as he closed his Book of Mormon.
Four-year-old Tyler piped up, “Jesus said we should pray always.”
“That’s right, Tyler,” Daddy said. “Do you think you can have a prayer in your heart all day today? But don’t just pray for yourself; look for others who need blessings and pray for them, too. We’ll pray for them again when we have family prayer tonight.”
Mommy stood up. “It’s time to get the breakfast dishes done and for Daddy to go to his office.”
As Daddy walked to the front door, Tyler followed and grabbed his hand. “Daddy, I’ll try my best to find someone who needs my prayer today.”
Daddy gave Tyler a hug. “Good! I’m sure that will make Heavenly Father happy.”
Later that morning, Tyler went with Mommy to take books back to the library. He saw a lady holding a baby. The baby wouldn’t stop crying, no matter how her mom tried to soothe her. The baby looked as though she could use Tyler’s prayer. Tyler prayed in his heart, “Please, Heavenly Father, bless the baby to be happy and quiet.”
After lunch, Tyler went outside to ride his tricycle. The people who lived next door waved to him. Tyler saw Mr. Radcliffe helping his wife climb out of her wheelchair and into the car. “Heavenly Father,” Tyler prayed, “I like the Radcliffes. Please bless Mrs. Radcliffe to get well.”
That afternoon the doorbell rang. The piano tuner had come. Tyler liked to watch him use his tools to tune the piano. Tyler asked Heavenly Father to bless the piano man to do a good job.
Before Tyler’s bedtime, his family gathered for their evening prayer. “Did you find anyone to pray for today?” Daddy asked Tyler.
“I found three people who needed my prayers—a baby, Mrs. Radcliffe, and the piano man,” Tyler reported.
“That’s wonderful, Tyler!” Mommy said. “I’m sure Heavenly Father heard your prayers, and He will answer them.”
“Tyler, will you please say the family prayer tonight?” Daddy asked.
As Tyler prayed, he remembered to ask another blessing on the people who had needed his prayers that day.

Hannah sat on the train seat between her father and her sister, Bessie. Papa had let Bessie sit next to the window, but Hannah didn’t mind because that meant she could sit next to Papa. She snuggled up next to him, and he reached out to squeeze her hand.
“Today we’ll go inside the house of the Lord,” Papa said, his voice trembling a little.
“Yes, Papa,” Hannah said.
“Do you know why?”
Hannah nodded. “The Salt Lake Temple will be dedicated today. Then it will be a real temple.”
“Yes,” said Papa. “And why else do you want to go?”
“To see how beautiful it is inside,” Hannah answered.
Papa smiled. “Is that why we go to the temple?”
Hannah looked down at the pink ticket she was holding on her lap. It had President Wilford Woodruff’s own signature on it. She would show it at the door so she could go inside to see the temple dedication.
“To see President Woodruff?”
“We do love our prophet, but why else do you want to go?” Papa tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.
Hannah leaned back in her seat. What answer was Papa after?
“You think about that.” Papa patted her knee. “On the way home, you can answer again.”
The train ride went by quickly, and soon Hannah found herself staring at the Salt Lake Temple. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. Looking up at the spires made her delightfully dizzy. The angel Moroni sparkled in the morning sun. “Holiness to the Lord,” Hannah read from the inscription on the wall. She felt a powerful joy in her heart. She promised herself that someday she would be married right here in the temple.
Hannah whispered to her father, “I know why I want to go to the temple. It’s because of Charley and Grandfather Bird and the rest of our family. It’s for Holiness to the Lord and for me too.”
Papa nodded, tears pooling in his eyes. “That’s why I want to go too.”

Some years ago I prepared to teach a class on a subject I felt would be particularly difficult. The night before the scheduled class, I prayed for guidance and then retired, still troubled in my mind. When I awoke, a certain thought was introduced to my mind that I shared with the class later that morning. After the class, a young man spoke with me privately and said, “The lesson was for me. I now know what I have to do.” Later, I learned that he had come to that class as his first contact with the Church in many years. He then proceeded to get his life in order and eventually served a faithful mission. Presently he is experiencing the happiness associated with keeping eternal family covenants. He possesses the gift of charity because he received the atoning love of Christ.

While waiting for our clients to arrive for the river trip, I spent several days lumberjacking in the jungle. We worked beside a beautiful river, and the scenery was breathtaking. Each evening the silhouette of the jungle treescape against the purple and orange sunset was reflected in the calmness of the river. After a rainstorm the river was rainbow-colored, and on a clear day it was the green of the jungle, reflecting splashes of white from the orchids that grew everywhere. The wildlife was incredibly plentiful and varied. Red howler monkeys boomed in the distance. Rainbow clouds of brilliant-hued toucans flew overhead. Yard-wide turtles sunned themselves on logs, and otters played in the river.
Of course, there were also piranha in the river, and as I worked felling trees I had to keep one eye out for killer bees, giant ants, bush flies, and deadly fer-de-lance snakes. One day while I was doing all that, a huge tree (about 100 feet tall) fell right on top of me, knocking me out. The last thing I remember was looking up at the blue sky and seeing a large shadow coming down at me, turning the day into night. Everything around me was smashed, but I was hit only by one of the smaller limbs and hardly touched otherwise. Everyone thought I was dead for sure. The Indian workers hacked their way to me and pulled me out semiconscious. When I fully awoke, I thanked the Lord for watching over me. Then I went back to watching for killer bees and venomous snakes.

Summers in San Antonio, Texas, can get hot, very hot. But this particular Saturday in July, the temperature was record breaking, well over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. And best of all—yes, best of all—most of the teens in the San Antonio Texas Stake were lost.
They had forgotten themselves, their own aches and pains, their own problems and worries, and even the heat. They were lost in service to a group of children they would never meet face to face. They were refurbishing the play areas, grounds, and buildings of Providence House, a day-care facility devoted to children with life-threatening illnesses. Because of the children’s illnesses, the group would not be allowed to meet those who would benefit directly from their work.
For these teens, their youth conference was devoted to service, the true kind of service that is given with no thought of reward, even the reward that comes from seeing the smiling faces of children. They had chosen to dress modestly, even though temperatures had virtually never been higher. They chose to work outside or inside until every job was finished. And they chose to work with an attitude that they hoped would please their Heavenly Father.
The adult leaders took every precaution. They made sure teens had plenty to drink and were taking rest breaks in the shade or inside in the air conditioning. They even broke out a shaved-ice machine to serve plenty of cooling, flavored ice. They had also worked carefully with the director of Providence House in identifying exactly what needed to be done so the correct materials and tools were on hand.
Carol Bova-Rice, the executive director of Providence Home and Family Services, said, “I cannot find the words to express our appreciation. Other groups have offered to help, but they didn’t want to do big things. With this group, we planned what really needed to be done in advance, no matter how big. It’s wonderful.”
Taking their theme from the scriptures, the stake youth council agreed on the title “Mission Possible.” They liked the idea that individually they could not accomplish much but “with God all things are possible” (Matt. 19:26). They were particularly excited about combining the usual youth conference dances and barbecues with an outstanding service project. They wanted something substantial so the teens could really pull together to accomplish something big, something that would be memorable, and something that would teach a great lesson of Christlike service.
Hannah Clark, one of the teen co-chairs of the youth conference, explained, “There are some people that need our help. That’s where we need to come in and be like Christ. We need to serve. That is the pure love of Christ. It’s charity. That is the way to do it, by serving, even if we can’t see them and even if we don’t even know who they are. We are becoming more the way that we should be when we do those things.”
“We’ll have to visualize the children coming in,” said Chris Weirich, another youth co-chair, “and seeing the new things in a room, the new murals, all the new materials, the repainted play equipment, the new grow boxes; you just have to visualize it. You won’t see them, but you can still feel their excitement.”
On youth conference Saturday, Providence House was bustling. Everyone was assigned a group, and each group was assigned a job. Because of the red T-shirts issued for youth conference, the scene was literally a sea of moving, shifting colors. Everyone had a cleaning rag, a paintbrush, a broom, a vacuum, a hammer, or a rake in hand. Every spot that needed cleaning was cleaned. Everything that needed a new coat of paint was painted. Every weed was pulled. Every toy was sterilized. Every shelf in the storage closets was stacked with donated food or supplies. The San Antonio Stake youth had indeed taken on the big things.
Even as hot and tired as they were, by early afternoon nearly everything had been finished. The group returned to the stake center for a testimony meeting. One after another, they spoke about the things close to their hearts, about giving service without complaint, about how positive they were about the truthfulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Sandra Clark summed up how she felt, saying, “I’ve never been so sore and so happy with everything that’s going on around me. So many things were done with the right spirit this weekend.”

I saw that same miracle in the bedroom of a man who had given sufficient faithful service to think that he had done enough to rest.
I knew that he had undergone lengthy and painful treatment for a disease and had been told by the doctors that it was terminal. They offered neither treatment nor hope.
His wife took me to his bedroom in their home. There he was, lying on his back on the top of the carefully made-up bed. He wore a freshly pressed white shirt, a tie, and new shoes.
He saw the look of surprise in my eyes, laughed quietly, and explained, “After you give me a blessing, I want to be ready to respond to the call to take up my bed and go to work.” As it turned out, he was ready for the interview he would soon have with the Master, for whom he had worked so faithfully.
He was an example of the fully converted Latter-day Saints I meet often after they have given a life of dedicated service. They press on.