Gospel Story Finder

Matt is busy making posters for Mandy’s student council campaign when …
Hey, Matt, we just got an email for you from your cousin Max in Australia.
Oh, lemme see!
“… and I like soccer, but cricket is my favorite.”
Matt pictures the insect and is puzzled.
It’s a little like baseball, but also very different.
“… and I love meat pies.”
Not the kind of pie with ice cream on top, like you’re thinking.
And he loves something called “Lamingtons.”
It’s like we both speak English, but it’s not quite the same language.
Hey! Max and Mindy got baptized last month. And —cool!—his family’s going to be sealed in the temple next week!
That’s great!
We might have some different sports and foods and words, but we share the really important stuff.

Trusting the Lord, I turned in my mission papers. On my 21st birthday, along with my birthday post, came my call to serve in the England London South Mission. Due to my years of inactivity, I still felt weak and inadequate. Only later would I understand what that early missionary understood: the Lord may choose the weak things of this world to preach His gospel, but truth will prevail and will prosper.
I went in faith to the temple to be endowed. When I came out of the temple, I met two missionaries who had served in my home ward. As we talked, I described my experience out on the moors. One of the elders smiled broadly and explained that on a particular preparation day, he and his companion had hiked up on the moors and at a certain point felt impressed to place some rocks across the hillside spelling out the familiar phrase “Truth Will Prevail.”
Tears streamed down our faces as we realized what had happened. Those familiar with the area know there are miles and miles of trails amongst the moors. Yet I happened to choose the very spot where the missionaries had placed those rocks. I knew there and then that the Lord had answered my prayer in the hills that day.

When I helped my older brother, Tahoe, with his Eagle Scout project, I learned important lessons about service. Along with many other people, I helped Tahoe with various acts of service at a local elementary school. Some people helped paint over some old benches, others helped repaint some poles, and some helped build a garden shade. I helped sand and paint two rows of poles. The job took some time and was tiresome, but when we were done, I saw the positive effect it had on the school and how filled with joy the principal was when she saw the improvements. The experience reminded me that we, as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, are constantly being reminded to live more like Christ and to serve as He did. I saw that even though I was tired, I was happy with what I had done and was glad that I could help with the work.
Diego J., California, USA

Eighteen months later my son was called to serve a mission. There were nearly 500 people in attendance at sacrament meeting! Friends from Hawaii arrived, bringing with them a braided green lei, which they presented to our son just before the meeting began. This particular lei, they explained, was one villagers placed on triumphant warriors when they returned victorious from battle. They asked him to wear it when he gave his talk.
However, when our son stood to talk, he didn’t have on the lei. I worried that our friends would be hurt. Then, near the end of his talk, he took out the lei and explained the tradition associated with it. He said he felt like a warrior going to battle for the truth but that there was someone else here who was the real warrior, someone who had waged a difficult war and won. He then turned to me and reached for my hand, led me to his side, and lovingly placed the lei around my neck.

If there is one thing that Elder Erich Willi Kopischke has gained a testimony of, it is that the Lord knows what is best for individuals.
He recalls being a little disappointed when called to serve a full-time mission in his native Germany. “I wanted to learn a different language,” he says. But he soon came to love teaching his own people. And when he was assigned to the mission office for nine months as a secretary, he had to learn English.
Elder Kopischke came to realize that his mission had truly been the Lord’s plan for him, because it had prepared him.
“The Lord knows your mission in life—that is my greatest testimony,” he says. “He knows what is in store for you.”

When twenty-one-year-old Sunita Kumari, an Indian sister, wanted to join the Church, her older brother tried to stop her by arranging a marriage for her. After the members of the Rakiraki Branch fasted and prayed with Sunita the marriage fell through, and she was baptized.
A few months later, branch members again fasted and prayed with Sunita, this time that she might be able to find a job. She had been looking for work since she had completed her schooling four years earlier, but now she felt it was especially important to earn money “so that I could pay my tithing and help the poor people.” A week later, Sunita was offered a job as a secretary for a new business. Since that time, she has served as a missionary in the Suva Fiji Mission.

Judy’s appreciation for the New Era came full circle when she was called as ward magazine representative in Coventry. She’s had many opportunities to bear strong testimony of the powerful words lying within her favourite magazine. She’s worked hard encouraging youth to partake and share similar gifts with others.

Her efforts were further supported recently. “We were really blessed when a generous missionary couple stayed in our ward,” Judy continues. “Knowing our enthusiasm for Church writings, they donated enough money to ensure all our members receive copies for the next year.”

When we went to Mexico to preside over the Mexico City Mission, it was almost twenty years since I had served there as a missionary. I was excited to get back to those people whom I had learned to love so much. I especially wanted to go to Cuernavaca, Morelos, a beautiful city where I had labored as a missionary. I wanted to know if those marvelous people who formed that little branch years ago were still alive and active in the Church. I wanted them to meet my family, and I wanted my family to meet them.

I was very pleased to learn shortly after we arrived that a district conference was scheduled in Cuernavaca. We made it a point to arrive early so that we would have an opportunity to talk informally with the people. It was a thrilling experience to share that warm Mexican greeting with those great people I had know years before. The abrazo includes a hug and a pat on the back, and we went from one to another.

Among those I greeted was a gray-haired lady who would likely have been in her seventies. As she stepped from our abrazo, she said, “Do you remember me?”

I was embarrassed that I didn’t and apologized, “I’m sorry Ma’am, but I don’t remember you.”

She responded, “You should; you converted me.”

Then I was really embarrassed. We didn’t have that many converts back in those days, and I thought I remembered every one of them very well.

She said, “Don’t you remember the day when we rode on that turismo (a little limousine-type bus) from Mexico City to Cuernavaca?”

Then I remembered! I had been assigned to take a message from the mission office in Mexico City to the elders who were working in Cuernavaca, and I had sat by that lady on the bus. She asked me what I was doing in Mexico, we had a little conversation about the Church, I gave her an Articles of Faith card, and she gave me her name, address, and permission to give them to the missionaries in Cuernavaca. Three months later, she and some of her adult children were baptized into the Church. She became the president of the Relief Society in the branch and through all these years had been one of the faithful members of the Church in Cuernavaca.

She was invited to bear her testimony in one of the district meetings, and she said, “If I had been asked to be baptized the first day that I heard the gospel, I would have been baptized, because I knew that day that it was true.”

“We’re number one!” shouted the cheerleader at a high school football game. I admired her straight teeth and perfect smile. I watched as she laughed and talked to the girls and flirted with the boys.
“It must be glorious to be her,” I thought, reflecting on my own loneliness. My father’s job required us to move every three to five years, so it was hard for my sister and me to form lasting friendships.
The cheerleader had a reputation for dressing immodestly and going to drinking parties. Watching her, I began to ache for the popularity that I thought she represented. I wanted friends so badly that for one fleeting moment I wondered if I should lower my standards to become like her.
While my sister and I drove home, I was wallowing in self-pity, and I prayed in my heart to Heavenly Father. I asked Him to tell me the secret that would take away my loneliness and insecurity. Although I wasn’t a Church member at this time, I had a strong faith in God.
Immediately came into my mind the idea, “Stop thinking about yourself.”
“That’s the secret?” I thought disappointedly. “How can that help me to become popular?”
Later that week, I read about charity in 1 Corinthians 13. It helped me understand that Heavenly Father was trying to teach me to have charity toward others rather than focus on how they were treating me. I took the characteristics of charity listed there and put them to work. When I did this, I found that my whole school experience changed. Here are some of the valuable things I learned.

One Sunday while the sacrament was being passed, a ward Relief Society president I know pulled out her smartphone to read “The Living Christ: The Testimony of the Apostles.” Inspired by this apostolic testimony of the Savior, she felt renewed in her commitment to always remember Him.
However, her positive feelings melted away a few days later when, in the mail, she received an anonymous letter from a ward member. The author criticized her for setting a bad example by being on her smartphone in sacrament meeting. She was crushed.
Certainly, she hadn’t meant to offend anyone by using her mobile device. She rarely used it in the chapel, and only then when she felt it was appropriate. But after receiving the letter, she began to doubt herself.
Every generation has its challenges. One study reports that by 2020 there will be more people with a mobile phone (5.4 billion) than with running water (3.5 billion).1 Add in tablets, “phablets,” and other connected devices, and you get a world that is wrestling with the question: What is appropriate “digital etiquette”?
As parents, leaders, and teachers struggle to decide what is appropriate digital etiquette in Church settings, different opinions have led to sometimes conflicting ways to handle digital devices in Church meetings.
Church leaders have provided counsel on the blessings and dangers of using technology. However, Church leaders don’t always spell out all of the do’s and don’ts of gospel living (see Mosiah 4:29–30). Members are expected to study the matter for themselves and seek the guidance of the Holy Ghost in making decisions. Unfortunately, as in the situation above, sometimes we adopt not only a position but also a critical attitude toward those with a different position.
God has provided the blessings of technology for our benefit and the advancing of His work.2 So while some members use their digital devices inappropriately, Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles has taught that “we should not allow a fear of mistakes to hold us back from receiving the great blessings these tools can provide.”3 We need to learn to use them appropriately and teach our children to do so as well.
Mobile devices help members of the Church with gospel study, family history and temple work, and sharing the gospel. For example, over three million people used the Gospel Library app in January 2018. Their combined study time equaled more than a thousand years.
Along with noting the blessings, Church leaders have warned about the potential dangers as well, including wasted time, damaged relationships, and entrapment in sin.4 In Church settings, inappropriate use can distract us and others from worship and learning that is crucial to developing our relationship with God.
However, these dangers aren’t unique to digital devices. “Some of these tools—like any tool in an unpracticed or undisciplined hand—can be dangerous,” taught President M. Russell Ballard, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. “… That is no different from how people choose to use television or movies or even a library. Satan is always quick to exploit the negative power of new inventions, to spoil and degrade, and to neutralize any effect for good.”5
Given the potential blessings—as well as the potential distractions—of these digital devices, how do members decide what approach to take? Joseph Smith suggested the power of a principle-based approach when he said, “I teach them correct principles, and they govern themselves.”6
Here, we examine principles that may be helpful in making decisions about using mobile devices in sacrament meeting. For a discussion on appropriate use of digital devices in the classroom, see “Teaching with Tech: Engaging Youth in a Digital World,” by Brother Brian K. Ashton, Second Counselor in the Sunday School General Presidency, on page 30 of this issue.
Sacrament meeting is for “[paying our] devotions unto the Most High” (D&C 59:10). President Dallin H. Oaks, First Counselor in the First Presidency, taught that our focus there should be on renewing our covenants and our faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and His Atonement.7 What we choose to do in sacrament meeting should help us do those things.
Given that focus, if the need arises, we might appropriately use our devices to:
Enhance our worship. A member might use a digital device during sacrament meeting to look up scriptures, sing hymns, or take notes on spiritual impressions.
Minister. A bishop might notice someone new or less active slip into the back of the chapel during sacrament meeting and, if prompted, text the ward mission leader to welcome the individual and invite them to a Gospel Principles class after the meeting.
Facilitate essential connectivity. Doctors, first-responders, and other on-call professionals can participate in worship services because they know they can be reached if necessary through their mobile devices.
As we seek to focus on the Savior, it’s important to remember that our devices can facilitate our study, but they can’t do our learning. They can give us something to ponder, but they can’t do our thinking for us. They can even help us to remember to pray, but the praying is something we have to do for ourselves.
Elder Bednar taught that our relationship with God is real, not virtual.8 It can’t be double-clicked or downloaded.9 So while the Relief Society president at the beginning of this article used her phone to help her center her thoughts on Christ, the covenant she was renewing wasn’t with her phone; it was with Him. The journey her device helped her start had to be finished in her thoughts, her prayers, and her actions.
We should all strive for an environment that enhances our focus on worship and learning. Minimizing distractions is important. This principle applies to many situations, from how we hold conversations or handle fussy children to how we use our digital devices.
There are so many ways to be distracted by a device that was designed to do so many things. Obviously, watching videos, listening to music, or playing games will make it difficult to pay attention to sacrament services. But so will checking email, text messages, social media, sports scores, and the many dings, buzzes, and badges that pull us into events, relationships, and conversations that exist outside of the meeting. All of this and more can distract us and others, even several rows away.
For those who want to eliminate digital distractions entirely, leaving their devices at home or turning them off may be appropriate. For those who use their devices to support their worship but want to avoid distracting others, it might be enough to silence the device, set it on do not disturb, or put it in airplane mode.10
There will always be distractions of one kind or another, and not all of them are digital. These might include a fussy infant, a buzzing insect, or the noisy traffic outside. We bear primary responsibility for what we get out of our worship. So if someone forgets to put their phone on airplane mode, we need to try to put ourselves on “ignore distractions” mode.
President Russell M. Nelson taught, “Each member of the Church bears responsibility for the spiritual enrichment that can come from a sacrament meeting.”11
If we notice others around us using their devices, we need to be careful about assuming that what they’re doing is inappropriate just because it’s on a digital device. If the individual is a child or someone we are called to have responsibility for, it may be appropriate to check on their usage as the Spirit directs. Otherwise, we try to return to our own worship.
In a statement that encompasses these principles, President Oaks counseled, “During sacrament meeting—and especially during the sacrament service—we should concentrate on worship and refrain from all other activities, especially from behavior that could interfere with the worship of others.”12
There are many other principles that could help guide our usage. As digital devices become an increasingly normal part of our culture, we will need to wrestle together with questions about what is appropriate. Because every situation is unique and technology will continue to change, we need to continually examine our own usage, consider new or different perspectives, and be willing to forgive others as we learn together.

“Do I have to wash all these dishes?” Jenny asked as she put on an apron.
“Sorry, honey,” Mother said. “Elizabeth was so fussy that I spent a lot of time taking care of her. I wasn’t able to do much cleaning today.”
Elizabeth was Jenny’s baby sister, and she had been very fussy lately. Mother said Elizabeth was “teething,” which meant she was getting new teeth. Jenny was sorry Elizabeth was uncomfortable, but still, it didn’t seem fair. It was Jenny’s turn to do the dinner dishes, not the breakfast, lunch, and dinner dishes.
Jenny sighed and turned on the water. She filled the sink with lots and lots of bubbles. She liked the way the bubbles shimmered. She pretended the bubbles were snow and piled them into mountains. Then she scooped some up in her hand and pretended it was an ice-cream cone. Finally she blew them off her hand and watched them float above the sink. It was fun to play with the bubbles, but it wasn’t getting the work done. And Jenny had homework to do. She didn’t want the dishes to take all night.
Jenny reached for the nearest pans to put them into the water. “Oh, no!” she thought. “Not the muffin tins!” The muffin tins were always hard to clean. She would have to scrub out each section one at a time and keep checking to make sure they were completely clean.
As Jenny worked, she started thinking about muffins. Her mother had made banana muffins for breakfast that morning. Banana muffins were her favorite kind, and this morning they had been hot and delicious. Jenny had never made muffins before, but she knew her mother had to get up early to make sure they were ready before school. And her mother probably hadn’t gotten much sleep last night because of Elizabeth’s crying. Jenny rinsed the muffin tins carefully and set them out to dry. Somehow, washing the muffin tins didn’t seem like such a chore anymore.
The next thing that needed washing was a large pot. “Ah, yes,” Jenny thought, “Mother cooked macaroni and cheese in this pot.” She lived close enough to her school to walk home for lunch. When she had come home today she had brought her friend Melinda. Jenny’s mother had made them macaroni and cheese with cut-up hot dogs. While they ate, the girls told Jenny’s mother all about the art project they had worked on at school that morning. After they finished lunch, they hurried back to school.
Jenny was glad that she was able to come home during the day, and she was also glad her friends felt welcome in her home. Jenny scrubbed out the macaroni-and-cheese pot carefully. She wanted to make sure it was clean and ready for future lunches with her friends.
The last big dish to wash was the rectangular casserole pan. It still had some scalloped potatoes left in it from dinner. Jenny took a clean spoon, scooped out the potatoes, and popped them into her mouth. Delicious! Jenny knew that the scalloped potato recipe came from her grandmother. Jenny started thinking about her grandmother as she washed the pan. She loved to visit Grandmother. They would often make bread together. And then, while the bread was rising, Grandmother would tell Jenny wonderful stories about her childhood.
Jenny had just finished rinsing all the dishes and was draining the sink when her mother came into the kitchen.
“Finished so soon?” Mother asked. “I hurried back as quickly as I could to help you. I’m sorry that there were so many dishes to do tonight.”
“I don’t mind,” Jenny said. “Doing the dishes gives me time to think about things.”
“Like what?” Mother asked.
“Like family, friends, and good food. You know, it’s actually kind of nice that we have so many dirty dishes to wash.”
“It is?” Mother asked in surprise.
“Sure. Having a lot of dirty dishes just goes to show we have a lot of blessings.”
Mother nodded. “That’s true,” she said. “And one of those blessings is a daughter who cheerfully washes the dishes.”

Jason dipped a rag into the quart of dark walnut stain and slid it across the unfinished top of his new oak desk. The wood jumped to life, the grain standing out like a picture coming into focus.
“That looks great!” Jason’s foster father, Jim Spence, was standing in the garage doorway, beaming. “I’m glad we could finally get you a desk of your own.”
Before Jason had come to live with Jim and Anna Spence, he’d been in and out of foster homes all his life. He’d never felt wanted—until now.
And until now, Jason had never called any of his foster parents Mom and Dad. The next day was Father’s Day, and Jason wanted to give Dad something special.
After he finished the desk, Jason washed up and changed his clothes. As he was tucking in his shirt, Dad and Mom knocked at the door and came in. Their faces looked serious.
“We just got a call from the welfare people,” Dad said. “They want us to take another boy, a ten year old. His name’s Rob. After his mother died last year, he had several scrapes with the law and has been in three foster homes. He can’t seem to adjust. You know the story.”
A sick feeling churned in Jason’s stomach. He knew the story all right. It was like his own. Every time he’d gotten into trouble, he’d been moved to another foster home. Nobody really cared. Until the Spences! If another kid comes, they won’t have time for me, Jason thought. Maybe they’ll even like him better!
He stared at the floor, unable to say anything.
“It will be like having a younger brother. You can play baseball with him and teach him your pickoff move to first base,” Dad said.
“I don’t want a brother,” Jason croaked, his voice a whisper. “Why can’t things stay the way they are?”
Mom sighed and looked hurt. “This boy needs our help—Jim’s, yours, and mine. We’re counting on you.”
Dad glanced at his watch.
“He’ll be here in a little while. We’d like your help—will you at least pray about it?”
Without answering, Jason pushed past them and headed for the front door.
“Where are you off to?” Mom asked.
Jason grunted something and left. He didn’t know where he was going, or even if he was coming back. He needed to figure things out. He started running and found himself heading toward town.
He passed people and didn’t see them. Someone said hello, but Jason didn’t notice who it was. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he’d finally found a caring home, and now some new kid was going to ruin it.
Soon he was on the other side of town. It reminded him of places that he’d lived in before. He could tell that the people who lived here had a hard time making enough money to live on, and a lot of the kids here probably learned to grow up hating others.
He passed a flashing video arcade. Both younger kids and teenagers drifted in and out, drinking sodas, leaning against the brick walls, and wandering back inside again. Some of them stared at him and laughed. Jason felt out of place—he’d changed a lot since the Spences had taken him in.
He’d been pretty hostile toward Anna and Jim at first. But it had been impossible to not warm up to them. Dad had found out that Jason played baseball and gotten him into Little League the very first week he was with them. Then he and Mom had come to almost every game. And could they yell! It made Jason feel as if he really were their son.
“Why can’t things stay like that?” Jason thought aloud. “Why’d some new kid have to show up and spoil it?”
As he wandered past a drugstore, he thought of Father’s Day cards. It made a lump grow in his throat. He’d really looked forward to buying one this year.
Just then, three boys spilled out the store’s door and burst into laughter.
“That guy’s so dumb,” one boy said.
“He has an IQ below freezing,” another boy chortled. He held up three packages of bubble gum. “Look what I swiped from right under his nose!”
They ran off with no idea as to where they were headed. But Jason knew. He knew all too well. And if it hadn’t been for Jim Spence, he himself might be headed for a juvenile detention center by now.
Who’s going to help these kids? he prayed silently.
Then he asked himself, Who’s going to help Rob?
Jason felt selfish for wanting all his foster parents’ love for himself when so many kids needed to be loved.
He knew that the Spences loved him. Everything they did for him proved that. Like buying him a desk. They’d saved for quite a while to be able to get it. And all he’d done to show his thanks was to run away!
He hurried into the drugstore and bought a Father’s Day card—the first one he’d ever bought—then hurried home. He still didn’t know what to give Dad for Father’s Day, but he was going home, and that was all that seemed to matter.
He thought of the kids back at the store, ripping off other people and not knowing that they were really ripping off their own happiness. Jason would never have known that if it hadn’t been for Dad. The world needed more fathers like him.
Suddenly he knew what to give him for Father’s Day.
Jason tried to act cool as he strode up the walk and into the house, but it wasn’t easy. He was so glad to be home again! After apologizing to his worried foster parents, he met Rob, a boy with long blond hair, who was leaning against the door casing, trying to look tough.
Jason smiled at Dad and handed him the card, adding, “I know this is a day early, but it’s the right time to give it to you. And there’s something else I want to give you, Dad.” He tilted his head slightly in Rob’s direction. “I want to help.”
Dad gave him a bear hug that would have bruised another bear! “Thanks, Jason.”
Smiling proudly, Mom suggested, “Why don’t you and Rob take a walk and get acquainted while we fix supper.”
“Want to?” Jason asked.
Rob shrugged. “Where?”
Jason thought, then said, “The unfinished-furniture store.”
Rob looked at him as if he’d just jumped off a spaceship.
Jason had to laugh. “We can look at the desks,” he explained. He jerked his head toward the kitchen. “They’re big on desks.”

Desmond Ahwireng, a youth, played Anansi, a legendary spider from African folklore. Onstage, Anansi went from village to village looking for all the good things in the world so he could keep them for himself, gathering them into a gourd he carried on his head. As he approached each village, the youth in that village sang and danced for him and gave him good things like courage, service, love, music, and family.
At the end of his journey, Anansi found the Accra Ghana Temple. The beauty of the temple convinced the selfish spider that he should not keep all the good things he had collected for himself, so he emptied the contents of his gourd to share them with everyone. Anansi’s good deed was greeted by 700 Primary children, all dressed in white, singing “I Am a Child of God” (Hymns, no. 301).
The youth in Ghana will remember the dedication of this temple. They, like Anansi, love to see the temple and hope its presence there will move them to share the good they have as they continue to follow the counsel of the prophet.

Even Maricar Mendoza, who admits she’s somewhat shy, didn’t hesitate to raise her hand when her teacher one day asked who in the class wasn’t Catholic. A discussion of religion was going on, and Maricar felt she had to speak up. “I said, ‘Ma’am, I’m a Mormon.’ I explained to her what our church is, and I was able to discuss a lot of things such as latter-day prophets, Joseph Smith, and the plan of salvation,” she says.
Maricar still considers herself shy. But she’s glad she spoke up.

“Andy, don’t forget your umbrella.”
“Aw, Mom, it’s not going to rain,” Andy said. “I’ll look silly carrying an umbrella to school when the sun is shining.” But he took the umbrella and headed up the street.
“Why can’t this be the kind of umbrella that folds up small?” he grumbled as he neared the end of his block. “It’s too big to hide under my jacket!”
“Hi, Andy. Are you afraid it’s going to rain?” a group of friends greeted him as he entered the school playground.
“The weatherman said it would,” Andy defended himself.
“Oh, sure—but this kind of rain is called sunshine,” Kenny teased him with a big grin. The other children laughed.
At recess, the sky was still sunny, and Andy was glad when no one mentioned the umbrella. However, after lunch Kenny appeared on the playground with the umbrella in hand! He held it out to Andy. “I thought that you might want this,” he said. “There’s a cloud in the sky now!” Kenny broke out in a fit of laughter. Other classmates joined in.
Andy was angry, and he bit his lip to keep from saying anything.
But Kenny wouldn’t stop teasing him. He jumped up onto the steps of the school building. “Come on, everybody—see the one and only Andy and his famous umbrella,” he shouted. “Step right up. The show’s about to begin!”
Andy felt his face turn red as a large group of children turned and stared at him. “What’s so famous about it?” they asked.
Suddenly Andy remembered what Mom always said: “Try to make the best of things. Don’t let anyone or anything get you down.”
OK, he told himself. I’ll go along with them! He stood up and made a sweeping bow toward his audience. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began. “This may look like a common, ordinary umbrella, but it happens to be very special. Watch—I’ll show you.”
Andy held the closed umbrella by the handle, and with head held high, he strutted around the center of the circle made by the children. “It’s a fancy walking cane,” he explained. “Only very important people use them.”
Then he held the handle close to his face and pointed the tip end toward the sky. “Now it’s a telescope,” he announced. “I see Jupiter and Mars and all the stars, even in the daylight.”
“On guard!” he yelled as he bent his knees in a fencer’s stance. With his other arm held high, he slashed through the air with his “sword.”
The children began to clap. “More, More!” they called out.
With big dramatic motions, Andy opened the umbrella and held it over his head. He stepped along carefully as he pretended to be a circus tightrope walker.
As he neared one of his classmates, he closed the umbrella quickly and poked the pointed end through a piece of paper on the ground. “You see,” he said, “it’s also a good trash picker-upper.”
His classmates were laughing with him now, not at him. “That’s great, Andy,” they said. “What else can you do with it?”
Andy grabbed the middle of the closed umbrella and began to whistle a tune while he strutted around like a drum major waving a baton. When he stopped, he twirled it around and around in his hand.
Finally, he opened it and placed it handle-up on the ground and said, “It’s a TV satellite dish!” Then he turned it over and crawled underneath it. “It makes a good tent or fort too.”
Just then the bell rang. The children filed back into the classroom.
About fifteen minutes before school ended, the rain began. The light sprinkling had turned into a heavy downpour by the time Andy got outside. He opened his umbrella and smiled to himself. Mom was right, as usual, he thought.
He passed the cars that were lined up in front of the building. Up ahead Andy saw Kenny with his shoulders hunched forward and his head down. Knowing that Kenny always walked home, Andy hurried to catch up with his classmate. “I forgot to show you the most important thing this umbrella can do,” he told Kenny.
Andy held the umbrella so that it covered both their heads. “It’s also really good for keeping a friend from getting wet.”
Kenny stood up straight and smiled gratefully.
“Thanks, Andy,” he said.

The smell of lasagna filled the kitchen as Chrissy’s family sat down at the table. Chrissy quietly bowed her head as her father gave the prayer. After the prayer, Mother began to serve the lasagna while Father asked what everyone had learned in church that day.
Greta and Roger, Chrissy’s older sister and brother, had learned about Emma Smith, the Prophet Joseph’s wife. They said that Jesus Christ called Emma an “elect lady.”
Chrissy asked, “What’s an elect lady?”
Father explained, “An elect lady is a woman who has been chosen by Heavenly Father and set apart to do a special work.”
Chrissy smiled because she liked Emma Smith and was happy that Jesus Christ had called her an elect lady. Chrissy knew that Emma had been a very courageous person.
When it was Chrissy’s turn to tell what she had learned in Primary, her smile disappeared and her eyes filled with tears. She sobbed, “I wish I only had to sing two songs on Sunday like my friend Jaimey does at her church. I don’t want to sing in Primary anymore.”
“You used to love singing,” Mother said. “What happened?”
“Eric said I sing too loud. He says singing is silly.”
Mother stood up and left the kitchen. In a moment, she came back carrying her Doctrine and Covenants. When she found what she was searching for in it, she asked Chrissy, “Did you know that Emma Smith was given her very own revelation from the Lord?” Chrissy shook her head. “Well,” Mother continued, “section 25 of the Doctrine and Covenants is Emma’s very own revelation, and in it Jesus Christ tells her some very special things.”
“Is that where he calls her an elect lady?”
“Yes, that’s right. It also talks about a calling Emma received from him. Did you know that he asked her to make the very first hymnbook for the Church? He knew she would be good at collecting hymns for the Saints to sing. After he asked her to make a hymnbook, the Lord told her something very special about singing. Would you like to hear what he said?”
At Chrissy’s nod, Mother read verse 12: “‘For my soul delighteth in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads.’” Mother put the book down and asked everyone at the table, “Who knows what that verse means?”
Roger smiled. “That means Jesus Christ likes to hear us sing.”
“That’s right, Roger,” Father said. “It also means a song is like a prayer. We are always reverent during prayers because we are speaking with our Heavenly Father. Hymns are just like prayers, and that is why it is important to sing with all our hearts.”
Chrissy smiled as she thought about how Emma Smith had obeyed Jesus and made him happy. She thought of Eric and the mean things he had said. She decided that she would be like Emma and have the courage to do what is right. “I can’t wait for church next Sunday,” she announced. “I’m going to sing with all my heart, and I am going to make Jesus happy.”

When I reflect on my life there has never been a moment when I doubted that the Church was true. In my youth, raised in a Mormon community, testimony was never a question among my peers because virtually all of our activities centered on the Church. Belief was automatic. Without seminary there was almost no dialogue about our knowledge or our understanding of the gospel. The Church was just there and we were a part of it. Then I was called to serve a full-time mission in the Spanish-American Mission, working with the Mexican people.
My companion and I entered the mission field at the same time and for some reason, unknown to us, we were assigned to begin our missionary labors together. Neither one of us knew the Spanish language, and both of us were virtually illiterate in the gospel. (This was before there were any Missionary Training Centers.) We were timid, untrained, and a little frightened, but eager to start to work.
In those days there were very few member referrals. We knocked on doors from morning to night and did our best to communicate with the Mexican people, using a few words of Spanish and a lot of English. For the first time in my life I was required to bear my testimony to nonmembers who had little knowledge or respect for the Church. It was a challenging and humbling experience.
One day, to our surprise, we met a couple who brought out a Book of Mormon, saying that in their church they also used this sacred book as scripture. We were overjoyed until they began to criticize us and mock the doctrines of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We discovered that they were missionaries from another religion who had been serving for 11 years. They were very knowledgeable and skilled in using the scriptures. My companion and I were no match for them. We were just boys fresh off the farm. They totally intimidated us, demeaned us, and tried to destroy our faith. In my heart I prayed for divine help.
Then, as I looked at that couple, a remarkable feeling came over me. For the first time in my life I felt the power of the Spirit rest upon me. Although I was somewhat ignorant, unlearned in the things of the gospel and the world, there was an absolute assurance that I held the holy priesthood of God and that they did not! That I was His minister of truth and they were not! With all the power of my soul I told them that I knew we were just boys and that we were not experts in the doctrine of our religion, but I knew that what we were doing was correct, that the Church was true, and that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. They were silenced. They could not refute my testimony.
The testimony I bore that day was different than any other I had ever given. It was not a passive thing, nor simply an accepted thing. It was real. I knew it. And my testimony which began at that moment has grown stronger and stronger every day of my life. There is no doubt, you see, for it is true!

Brother Peterson was a successful man by most people’s standards. But now our whole quorum’s attention was riveted on him as he told the story of his impoverished childhood, of eight brothers and a sick father, the frustration of having to do without the things other kids had during the time of his father’s illness, and how the subsequent feelings of inferiority had led to rebellion against some gospel principles. He told of the girl who would one day become his wife and how she persuaded him to forsake bad habits and go on a mission. And then a story about his missionary farewell. …
“I didn’t know what to talk about. I worried about it all week long. Finally I went in to see Brother Bloomfield. I said ‘Brother Bloomfield, I’ve got to give a talk in less than two hours and I have no idea what to say!’ Well, he had me write down a few things and then he said, ‘Now, you could conclude by saying that you know Peter, James, and John restored the Melchizedek Priesthood to Joseph Smith.’ I said, ‘Who are Peter, James, and John?’ Through all my life, I hadn’t learned who Peter, James, and John were and I was going on a mission in a week!”
Brother Peterson was finishing the story of an extraordinary mission experience. He and his companion had baptized ten people in one month.
“That experience changed the way I thought the other elders in my mission looked at me. It changed the way I looked at myself. That new confidence carried me through the rest of my mission and for twelve years after I got home. …”
He mentioned some of the challenges facing him now and closed with his testimony. There were extra firm handshakes and pats on the back after the meeting, both with Brother Peterson and between other quorum members.

Many years ago when at the age of 12 I was ordained a deacon, my father, who was president of our stake, took me to my first stake priesthood meeting. … He walked up to the stand, and I sat on the back row, feeling a little alone and uncomfortable in that hall filled with strong men who had been ordained to the priesthood of God. The meeting was called to order, the opening song was announced, and—as was then the custom—we all stood to sing. There were perhaps as many as 400 there. Together these men lifted their strong voices, … all singing these words with a great spirit of conviction and testimony:
Praise to the man who communed with Jehovah!
Jesus anointed that Prophet and Seer.
Blessed to open the last dispensation,
Kings shall extol him, and nations revere.
(“Praise to the Man,” Hymns, no. 27.)
They were singing of the Prophet Joseph Smith, and as they did so there came into my heart a great surge of love for and belief in the mighty Prophet of this dispensation. In my childhood I had been taught much of him in meetings and classes in our ward as well as in our home; but my experience in that stake priesthood meeting was different. I knew then, by the power of the Holy Ghost, that Joseph Smith was indeed a prophet of God.1

It was almost Christmas, but Diego wasn’t feeling very excited. This was the first Christmas since his parents got divorced. And nothing felt the same. He and his brother, Samuel, wouldn’t even get to see Mom this Christmas.
“Everything’s different,” Diego said to Dad.
“I know.” Dad’s eyes were sad. “Sometimes things change before they get better.” He was quiet for a bit, then smiled. “Christmas will be different this year, but that doesn’t mean we won’t have some good times. We’ll still be celebrating the birth of the Savior.”
Diego nodded. It would be hard not seeing Mom, but maybe Christmas could still be good, just as Dad said. Diego wanted to help make this Christmas a happy one.
He went to his room to think. Sometimes for Christmas they did a family service project. What could they do this year?
Diego looked around his room. He saw a toy car he didn’t play with anymore. He picked it up and spun the wheels. It was still really good. Maybe he and Dad and Samuel could give some toys to kids who didn’t have any! He found a few other toys and put them in a bag with the car.
When Diego finished, he took the bag to Samuel’s room. “Can I help you clean your room?” he asked. “It’s a surprise for Dad.”
Samuel looked up from the picture he was drawing. “Sure.”
The boys worked together to clean Samuel’s room. Diego told him about the plan. They found a few toys that Samuel didn’t play with and added them to the bag.
When they were done, they carried the bag downstairs. “Dad,” Diego said, “we found some toys we don’t play with anymore. Can we give them to kids who don’t have any toys?”
Dad looked surprised and happy. “That’s a great idea! Let’s take them to the homeless shelter this afternoon.”
Visiting the shelter was fun. Diego and Samuel got to play with some of the kids while Dad talked to the grown-ups.
On the way home, Dad asked what else they could do to make this Christmas special.
“Last Christmas we made treats for our neighbors,” Diego said.
“We could do that,” said Dad. “Let’s go buy stuff to make cookies.”
Samuel thought cookies were a great idea.
The boys helped Dad shop for the ingredients at the store. At home they made the dough and cut out star and tree shapes. Diego and Samuel frosted the cookies yellow and green. Then they took little bags of cookies to their neighbors.
At the end of the day, Diego was tired but happy. He and Samuel and Dad had done things together as a family and had helped others. Dad was right. Christmas was different, but it was still good.