Gospel Story Finder

In 1999, Skaidr?te was looking for a church. She saw a building with a sign that said The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was a weekday, but she opened the door and went inside.
“There was a sister missionary. When I walked in, she was smiling—a very open smile. I thought there was somebody behind me. Then I realized that smile was for me, and I smiled back. I felt like I was meeting a best friend, long not seen.
“She was the one who introduced me to the Church. I had never met anyone like the missionaries. I felt like they were angels, literally come from heaven to earth.
“Basically from that day, everything changed in my life.”
Skaidr?te stopped going to her previous church, even though people there warned her she would find bad things in this new Church. “I told them if there was something bad, I would stop going,” Skaidr?te says, “But there was nothing but good to find.” That was 17 years ago.
Today, Skaidr?te, age 71, is so happy and full of life that it’s hard to believe that hasn’t always been the case.
“When I first saw that sister missionary, when I found the Church for the first time, since that day all the thoughts of suicide were gone. There were no thoughts of life being dark. In spite of everything, I am positive. Life is beautiful to me.”
Skaidr?te is so happy and full of life, it’s hard to imagine that for years she struggled with depression and thoughts of suicide. “Now I have the gospel,” she says. “Life is beautiful for me.”
While investigating the Church, Skaidr?te asked many questions. “As I did, I found answer after answer,” she says.
Years ago, when others warned her about investigating the Church, she told them there was nothing but good to find.
The first time Skaidr?te entered a Church building, a sister missionary greeted her with a smile. Skaidr?te was so impressed with the missionaries of the Church that she accepted an invitation to attend meetings. Today, Skaidr?te smiles all the time.

Angela stormed into the house, slamming her books onto the kitchen table. Her younger brother Caleb watched in shocked silence.
“I’m never going to school again!” Angela yelled. Her anger turned to tears as she dropped into a chair. Between sobs, she wailed, “Sheela Kelly is making my life miserable. I tried to be nice to her when she called me names. I ignored her when she teased me about my clothes. Then today she told everyone that I told her secrets about Ammon Young. Now Ammon’s afraid to talk to me.”
Mom put her arms around Angela. Angela raised her tearstained face. “Mom, Ammon’s the only other Church member in my grade. We always help each other choose the right.” She laid her head against Mom’s shoulder and cried.
Caleb, trying to help, said, “Jesus said to pray for our enemies. Maybe you should pray that Sheela gets really sick and misses lots of school.”
“I don’t think that is what Jesus meant,” Mom gently corrected.
“Maybe you could pray that Sheela moves to another country,” Caleb suggested.
Mom shook her head. “No, Caleb—but you’re right that we should pray for our enemies. In fact, this Sunday is fast Sunday. Let’s use this opportunity to fast for Sheela. When we combine faith, prayers, and fasting, miracles can happen.”
Angela, who had calmed down a bit, sniffled and added, “Like the time we all fasted and prayed for Sister Smith’s baby when he was born two months too soon?”
“That’s right, Angela,” Mom said. “Heavenly Father blessed us for our faith. He always does.”
Angela prayed many times throughout the weekend that Sheela would stop being mean. As she fasted, she hardly noticed when her stomach growled.
Before leaving for school on Monday, Angela knelt once again. “Heavenly Father, please help Sheela to stop being mean. I’ve fasted and prayed. I have faith that Thou canst change her. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Angela bounced happily down the stairs.
“Have a great day,” Mom said.
“Oh, I will—I just know it!” Angela replied.
She was sure she would when she arrived at school and found her teacher had rearranged the desks. Angela was no longer sitting next to Sheela. Angela silently offered a prayer of thanks. Ammon even smiled at her as he walked past her desk. This really is going to be a great day! she thought.
After lunch, she stopped by the rest room to make sure no food was stuck in her braces. Her heart raced when she noticed Sheela. Summoning her courage, Angela smiled and said, “Hi, Sheela—did you have a fun weekend?”
Sheela just smiled—not exactly a friendly smile but a smile. The two girls left the rest room at the same time.
“Hello, Sheela. Hello, Angela,” Mrs. Keiter, the music teacher, said as she passed by.
“Hello,” the girls answered. Angela was glad Sheela had not said or done anything mean. She was happy, too, when Sheela went to the office instead of out to the playground. Again, Angela offered a quiet prayer of gratitude.
A few minutes before school was over for the day, Angela was called to the principal’s office.
As she walked past Sheela’s desk on her way to the office, Sheela smirked, “Good luck.” It made Angela feel cold all over.
Mr. Cooper was waiting for Angela when she arrived. “Angela, I’ve received a report that you scratched ‘Angela loves Ammon’ on one of the walls in the rest room. The student who reported this said Mrs. Keiter saw you leaving there during lunch. Mrs. Keiter confirmed you were there at that time.”
Angela was stunned. How could this be? Hadn’t she fasted and prayed and used all her faith for Heavenly Father to make Sheela be nice? Sheela had been in the rest room at the same time. She must have scratched the wall.
“Mr. Cooper,” Angela said softly, “I did go into the rest room after lunch, but I didn’t scratch anything on the wall.”
“I’m sorry, Angela, but I have your word against another student’s and a teacher’s. You will help the janitor, Mr. Hamblin, during recess for a week. Maybe that will help you respect school property more.”
Caleb knew by the look on Angela’s face that things had not gone well. He walked silently beside her on the way home from the bus stop. Entering the kitchen first, he blurted out, “Angela’s faith didn’t work.”
“Caleb! That’s not nice,” Mom scolded.
“No, Mom, Caleb’s right,” Angela sighed. “I must not have enough faith for Heavenly Father to make Sheela be nice.” She told Mom about her day.
“Angela, we can’t pray away another person’s agency, no matter how much faith we have,” Mom explained. “When we pray for our enemies, it changes how we feel about them and brings us peace. We change for the better, and sometimes our goodness helps our enemies to change. Sadly, some never change. But we should never let our enemies choose how we will act.”
“So what does Angela do about Sheela?” Caleb interrupted. “How does all this help her if Sheela is still mean?”
Angela nodded. “I thought faith could produce miracles.”
“It does. I promise you it does,” Mom assured her. “Do you remember the story of Alma and his people in the land of Helam?” Mom reached for her scriptures.
“A little,” Angela said. “Alma’s people were righteous, but they still were captured by the Lamanites. Things got even worse when the Lamanites put Amulon, one of the wicked priests of King Noah, in charge of Alma’s people.”
“And Amulon was Alma’s enemy,” Caleb added. “He knew Alma had believed the prophet Abinadi and had tried to save him from being burned.”
“That’s right,” Mom said. “Amulon made slaves of Alma and his people. He even put guards over them to kill anyone caught praying.”
“But they still prayed in their hearts,” Caleb added.
“And the Lord answered their prayers,” Mom continued. “He didn’t help them escape right away, but He helped them with their trials. Let’s read what happened in Mosiah 24:15: ‘And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord.’
“So, what do you think you should pray for now?” Mom asked gently.
Angela sat quietly, then answered, “To endure my trials cheerfully.”
The next day, after sanding and painting over the writing in the rest room, Angela was emptying trash cans when Sheela walked by. Loudly she said to the girls with her, “It looks like we have a new janitor at our school.” The group left, giggling.
“Please help me to be cheerful and patient,” Angela prayed in her heart.
Just then Mr. Hamblin walked up. “Angela, you’re a good worker.” Then he smiled a big smile. “You didn’t scratch those words on the wall, did you?”
Angela shook her head.
“That’s what I told Mr. Cooper. And while we were talking, Ammon Young came to report he’d overheard Sheela Kelly bragging about doing it herself and getting you in trouble.” Mr. Hamblin smiled again. “Mr. Cooper wants to see you in his office. He’s a fair man. I think you’ll be happy to talk with him again.”
Patience and cheerfulness, prayers and faith, Angela thought. They really do produce miracles. I don’t think my troubles with Sheela are over, but I’ll keep trying to do what’s right. Maybe I’ll try to talk with her again. And as she hurried toward the principal’s office, she silently prayed, Thank Thee, Heavenly Father, for helping me with my trials.

The youth of the North Logan Third Ward, North Logan Utah Stake, completed a service project that literally changed the life of one sister in their ward.
Carol Hansen has degenerative palsy, which has confined her to a wheelchair. Every one of the 67 Young Men and Young Women in the ward participated in a fundraising effort to buy Sister Hansen a motorized scooter, which she needed because she did not have the strength to manipulate her wheelchair by herself. The scooter has fingertip controls and a hydraulic lift, providing her with a degree of independence.
The youth power raked lawns, cleaned away orchard prunings, and did general yard cleanup for neighbors and ward members. They cleared gardens; took down fences; washed windows, walls, and floors; prepared and painted house trim; catered a barbecue; and sold donated apple juice. Whatever needed to be done, they did.
The money was raised, the scooter purchased, and the presentation was made one activity night. A delighted sister now “drives” herself to church, does her visiting teaching, and is able to get around her own house. And every time the youth of the ward see her, they feel good knowing they helped.

Then she remembered a story she had heard about a [bird] that got lost in the [tabernacle] . People tried opening all the [doors] [and] chasing the [bird] out with a [net] . But the [bird] would [not] fly out any of the [doors] . Finally, a man named John said a [prayer] . Heavenly Father answered John’s [prayer] [and] helped him know what [to] do. “Turn off all the [lights] ,” John said. “[And] close all the [doors] except [one].” Then the [bird] flew out the [door] .

Three years ago, I received a calling to be a Community Connections Coordinator in our stake. My purpose was to coordinate resources for any in the stake and community who had humanitarian needs. The resources were items such as household goods, furniture, walkers and wheelchairs, food, clothing, shoes, toys and any donated items for the needy. This involved seeking out, collecting and storing multitudes of these items and having them available when needs arose. I had a committee of about 20 people. One of our humanitarian activities is a Winter Clothing drive. Members of our Stake and others would voluntarily donate approximately 1,000 coats along with shoes, winter boots, scarves, beanies, hats, and gloves in preparation for the Saturday Drive. On that day, these items were displayed in our stake cultural hall and the community would come and shop for whatever they needed, free of charge. Many volunteers assisted in the setup and takedown. We managed to have several other drives or activities during the year such as: Easter Egg Hunt, Food Drive, Bicycle Giveaway, Household Goods Exchange, Thanksgiving Meals, Toy Exchange and our biggest event was in September, the “Share the Harvest Fair.” This calling became my second full-time job! Even though it required a lot of planning and coordinating, I absolutely loved it and enjoyed every minute of it!

About a year or so after serving in that calling, our stake president called me and Todd into his office and asked if I would serve in another stake calling which involved missionary work. I immediately felt overwhelmed and for the first time in my life, I did not accept but asked if I could think about it. That evening as I drove to an appointment by our home, I distinctly remember that crisp and clear feeling of these words penetrate my heart and mind saying, “Why are you thinking about your new calling? I will help you. I always help you!!” Once again, the guidance of the Comforter helped me to do the right thing. I immediately called my stake president and accepted the calling.

As soon as Samantha opened her eyes, she knew what day it was. She ran to the kitchen in her pajamas. “OK, Mom,” she said. “Let’s go to the beach. I’m ready.”
Her mom laughed when she saw Samantha. “You may feel ready,” she said, “but you don’t look ready. You’d better get dressed first and have some breakfast. Then we can get ready to go to the beach.”
Samantha ran upstairs, hopped out of her pajamas, jumped into her clothes, and skipped back downstairs again.
“Settle down,” said her mom. “You can’t eat properly when you’re a jumping bean.”
Samantha tried to drink her juice and eat her cereal slowly. She even tried to butter her toast slowly. But she was too excited.
After breakfast Samantha washed her face, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair. “Now can we go?” she asked.
“Pretty soon,” said her mom. “But first we have to decide what to take with us.”
“I know what to take,” said Samantha. She ran to her room and came back with a red bucket, a yellow spade, a swimsuit, a towel, and a beach ball. “OK,” Samantha said. “Let’s go.”
“What about lunch?” asked Mom with a smile.
“Oh,” said Samantha. “I forgot.”
They made the lunch together. Samantha washed carrots and celery, and her mom cut them up. Samantha made her favorite sandwich—peanut butter, lettuce, and tomato. Mom made some egg salad sandwiches.
They got the cooler and put the sandwiches inside with the vegetables, some fruit, and homemade cookies. Then they put ice packs on top, and Samantha shut the lid and fastened it. “Wow!” she said. “It’s cold in there now.”
“It has to be cold,” Mom explained, “or the food will spoil.”
They filled a thermos with milk, then took everything out to the car. The outside air was still cool, but Samantha knew that soon it would be very, very hot. She hopped up and down. “Come on, Mom,” she said. “Come on.”
“Samantha,” said Mom, “I want to go to the beach, too, but it’s important not to forget anything. Our day will be much more enjoyable if we prepare well. Preparation is important in just about everything we do. Now, there are still some things we need to take. Think how hot it will be. We can’t put ourselves in the cooler. But we can make our own shade.”
“The beach umbrella!” shouted Samantha.
“Right!” said Mom. “And we need little beach umbrellas for our heads.”
“Sun hats!” cried Samantha.
“Right!” said Mom again. “And when we’re in the sun, we need something creamy and smooth to spread on our skin so that the sun won’t burn us.”
“Suntan lotion!” shouted Samantha.
“You remembered!” said Mom. “And we need something for our feet in case there are sharp stones or glass on the beach.”
“Beach shoes!” shouted Samantha.
“You’re very smart,” said Mom.
They gathered all those things and put them into the car along with Mom’s bathing suit, beach coat, sunglasses, and a book. Mom also got extra towels, a change of clothes for Samantha, and a big blanket. Just before shutting the door, Mom called, “Let’s get going, Samantha.”
But Samantha didn’t answer.
Puzzled, Mom called again. Then she heard a giggle. Samantha was already in the car, waiting for her!

I appreciated the article “How to Be a Disciple of Christ” by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf (August 2012). After I read it, I started thinking that I need to do more to share the gospel. Then an opportunity came. While on a field trip with my school band, a friend and I started to talk about my religion and how it started. He said, “I believe in God and that there is a right church, but how will I know which is the right one?” I told him about Joseph Smith and ended up telling him the story of the Book of Mormon and also the history of the Church up to when the Saints moved to Utah. The whole time, my friend was asking me questions about specific people and wanted me to tell him more stories of people in the Book of Mormon.
None of this would have happened if I hadn’t told him that I was a Latter-day Saint. We must always have the Spirit burning within us so that others may take notice of us and want the happiness that we have because of the gospel in our lives.

When Daniel was very young, he already had a great sense of humor. He learned to tell hilarious jokes that would make my wife and me laugh. He also often said things that inspired us. Shortly after hearing President Thomas S. Monson announce the change in age requirements for young men and young women preparing to serve missions,1 we were driving in the car. Daniel announced that he would start preparing himself right then, at age six, so he would have 12 years of preparation. Then he said with a smile, “Dad, can I change the song from ‘I Hope They Call Me on a Mission’ to ‘I AM Going on a Mission’?” It was awesome.

Marilyn Arnold shared a story of some BYU students who freely gave much needed help. Her elderly parents were out walking one evening when her father fell and seriously cut his arms. Some students were walking by and saw him go down. They immediately came to his aid, saw that he got medical attention, and made sure that both her parents were taken care of. They subsequently called at their home several times to see how her father was recovering.

Young Latter-day Saints on the outer islands of French Polynesia wanted to hold a youth conference. But they faced some challenges.
Challenge 1: Location. The islands are far apart, with no regular lines of communication or transportation between them.
Challenge 2: Law. The government requires any youth gathering to comply with approved standards, including supervision by a state-certified director.
Challenge 3: Food. Little edible food grows in the crushed coral soil of the atolls. The diet is based on fish, coconuts, and whatever is shipped from Tahiti.
Challenge 4: Water. There are no rivers or lakes. Rain provides the only source of drinking water.
Challenge 5: Lodging. There are no dormitories, barracks, or even hotels on the outer islands. Where would people stay?
Faced with so many obstacles, it might have been tempting to give up. But the Saints here knew that if they had faith, God would help them find answers. They continued planning their conference. And soon, solutions were found.
Solution 1: Stay close to home. Conference planners decided to hold several small conferences at local levels. This would allow youth groups to gather without lengthy travel or a lot of expense. The first conference was held on Takaroa, one of seventy-seven islands in the Tuamotu Archipelago. Takaroa is a stronghold for the Church in the area—270 of its 396 inhabitants are Latter-day Saints.
Solution 2: Find a willing supervisor. Brother Stanley Brodien, executive secretary in the Paea Tahiti Stake, was the answer. A school psychologist, he spends summer vacations organizing youth gatherings, summer camps, and outings. He already had the proper government certification and was happy to supervise the conference.
Solutions 3, 4, and 5: Use local resources. Takaroa had been blessed with an abundance of rain. Storage tanks were full and could supply needed water. Some food had to be brought along in coolers, but a baker from the nearby island of Manihi, branch president Pitori Faura, provided bread, and local members helped the youth catch fish and gather coconuts as needed. As for lodging, most of the youth stayed in homes with members. Some of the young men brought tents and camped on the beach.
And now, the conference! Most of the seventy LDS youth from the three islands attending the Tuamotu North Youth Conference are involved either directly or indirectly in the pearl industry. The youth are highly skilled in tasks like skin diving and scuba diving, which are required for pearl cultivation.
But besides the pearl farms, the focal point of the island of Takaroa is the century-old LDS chapel, built from coral, with its hand-painted moldings, red tin roof, and bell tower stretching ninety feet above bedrock. It is larger and taller than any other building on the island, symbolic of the Church’s importance in the small community, and a perfect place for the youth to gather.
After their arrival, some aboard a fishing vessel, some by speed boat, the youth were divided into four groups, each with a mixture of participants from various age levels and from the three islands of Takaroa, Manihi, and Takapoto. The youth chose Book of Mormon names for their groups: Ether, Nephi, Mormon—and a popular hero in these islands, Hagoth.
Cynthia Tufariua of Takaroa said, “At first I wasn’t excited about not being with my friends, but after the first day, I thought it was great to get to know kids from the other islands.”
Eric Hio of Manihi said, “I’ve never seen this many Mormons together in one spot.”
Set an example of service. The shining moment of the conference came in the form of service. Except for one very rainy morning, the youth spent several hours each day cleaning different areas of the island—picking up trash, cutting weeds and bushes, removing rocks, hauling away garbage. During the conference, they cleaned beaches along the dock area and tidied up the village cemetery, the church grounds and building, and the local soccer field, which had become little more than a garbage dump and an eyesore.
Mani Terooatea is a Laurel from Takaroa home on vacation from Japan, where she has been studying the technique of pearl grafting (placing tiny pieces of mussel shells inside oysters in order to cultivate pearls). Mani said, “It was super to clean up the field, to see everyone working side by side. It didn’t take long, and I’m glad we could leave the place cleaner than we found it.” Mani brought along a friend who is a member of another faith. The friend, Hina Dexter, developed a new appreciation for Latter-day Saints, as did several other non-LDS participants.
Start with the scriptures. Each morning started with individual scripture study, followed by breakfast and a devotional. Then came the service projects, followed by sports and group activities, including island games such as “The Crab and the Coconut Trees,” “The Dog and the Thongs,” and “The Thief and the Pearl.” To cool off after a hard day of work and play, the youth found that a dip in the pristine lagoon waters among some of the most beautiful coral gardens in the world, myriads of brightly colored tropical fish, and curious but harmless reef sharks, provided a refreshing change of pace.
Besides morning scripture study and devotionals, two firesides and a home evening emphasized spiritual topics such as faith, standards, scripture study, goal setting, enduring to the end, striving for excellence, mission preparation, and seminary attendance. One speaker gave a brief history of the Church in French Polynesia, speaking of sacrifices made by early missionaries and members and challenging the youth to be willing to make similar sacrifices to share the gospel.
End with a testimony meeting. As the conference closed, young people expressed gratitude for new bonds of friendship, strengthened testimonies, and their renewed desire to know and serve the Savior. One young man who had not been very active in the Church expressed his newly gained desire to serve a mission: “I want to get my life in order so I can share with other people the testimony I felt growing during this conference. I want to spread the joy the gospel brings.”
Like a pearl. The youth conference taught the outer islanders another thing as well. They saw that with patience, challenges can be turned into blessings. It reminded them of the black pearls they grow in their lagoons. A little bit of mussel shell is an irritant. But with time and care, the oyster transforms it into a thing of beauty.

I was home from my mission for exactly one month to the day before I was sent off to Israel with the BYU-Jerusalem Travel Study Program. I really didn’t want to go. But my younger brother was a bit of a rascal in high school and so I was supposed to go with him to Israel so that he could get spiritual and go on a mission.

Well, 3 days before we were supposed to leave for Israel, my younger brother said that he didn’t want to go to Israel and that he wanted to go on a mission instead. My parents were overjoyed and said, “Yippee”.

I then said, “I don’t want to go to Israel. I want to stay home and play in my band again.”

That’s when my dad turned to me and said, “You have got to go to Israel. We pulled so many strings to get you and your brother accepted into the program, that if at least one of you don’t go, it will bring shame to the family name.” My dad had even called Elder Holland, who was the President of BYU at the time to ask for his help in getting us accepted. So off to Israel I went, to save the family name and honour my father and mother.

Anyway, it all turned out well. In fact, when I returned from Israel, I reapplied to the University of Utah and for the next 4 years took mostly Russian and Hebrew classes, with a few Greek classes thrown in. I loved languages. I didn’t know what I was going to be, I just thought I was following my heart. But the Lord knew what was in my future. And this was all part of His plan.

Having completed my major classes and with only a few general education classes left to go, my family moved to Hawaii. I arranged to take my last few general education classes here at BYU-Hawaii. Then I transferred them back so I could graduate from the University of Utah in Russian, with a minor in Hebrew. Now all I needed was a job, and a wife.

Getting a job was easy. I started teaching EIL part-time during the day, while in the evenings, I went to school in Honolulu to earn my Master’s degree. Eventually, I was offered a full time position.

I was almost 13 when my family moved to Pendleton, Oregon, which was a big town to me with about 6,000 people in it. My dad ran the agricultural experimental station for Oregon State University. It was 168 acres in size, and it was fenced all the way around. I had a job hoeing the weeds from under the fence, and initially I hated that job.
One afternoon I was hoeing weeds with a friend named Arlen Jenkins. I was complaining and moaning and groaning about the hard work, but he looked at me and said, “You know, you really need to consider that if we weren’t doing this, we might be doing something worse.” That was his attitude. He was always happy doing any type of work because he knew he could be doing something worse. I have tried to reflect that attitude in every job I have had since that time.

Charlotte and her sisters were huddled around the dining room table with paper and pen, each absorbed in a world of her own. Although the wind and snow were blowing through the moors outside, the girls were comfortable sitting by the fireplace in their long woolen dresses.
Born in the early 1800s, Charlotte, Emily, and Anne Brontë grew up in a bleak parsonage on the Yorkshire moors of England. After their mother’s death when they were small children, Aunt Branwell, kind but proper, came to look after the family. Their father was good and loving but kept very much to his study.
Once a friend named Ellen Nussey, whom Charlotte had known at school, came to visit for a few days. After walking through the moors with Charlotte and realizing how isolated her friend’s parish home was, Ellen asked, “What do you do with yourself around here?”
“Oh, we’ve plenty to keep us busy,” Charlotte answered. “We teach Sunday School and visit the sick to help father. During the day we help Tabby, our cook, with the food preparation and Aunt Branwell with the housework. The best part of each day is spent by ourselves in our own special part of the moors. In the evenings we … well, we write stories.”
“How exciting!” Ellen replied. “What kind of stories do you write?”
“One night a long time ago we were sitting by the fireplace waiting for it to get dark,” Charlotte said. “Aunt Branwell never let us waste candles until it was dark enough to really need them, so we began to tell stories. We made up some countries along with our favorite heroes, and we’ve been writing little stories about them ever since.”
So began the love of writing by three young sisters who were to be found each evening sitting in front of a candle with pens in hand.
Charlotte found it necessary to bend very low over her paper because of her nearsightedness, and the scarcity of paper didn’t help. The girls had to train themselves to write so small that even a tiny piece of paper might contain a complete story or a lengthy poem.
One night Anne and Emily were writing on a flyleaf that had been carefully torn from a book. Charlotte was finishing a tiny book she had made by sewing small bits of old paper together. She had already completed several little books like this that she kept locked in a writing desk—a small rosewood box.
For many years the girls were too shy about their writing to share it even with each other. It took a small accident by Charlotte to get them to share their work and their dreams of someday having their work published.
Charlotte was moving Emily’s notebook one day to set the table. She had done this many times in the past and had never neglected Emily’s privacy by reading her work. This day, however, the notebook fell open accidently to some poems, and before Charlotte could close it her eyes caught a few lines.
Having studied the best poets at her boarding schools, Charlotte was capable of recognizing good poetry when she saw it. Emily’s poems were good, very good, and Charlotte couldn’t put the notebook down. She knew her sister’s work must be published.
“Charlotte! How dare you!” Emily cried as she came into the dining room.
“It was an accident, Emily; really it was.” Charlotte realized what her sister must think. “Your poems are so good, though, I couldn’t quit reading them.”
Emily’s anger lasted for three days during which she didn’t speak to Charlotte. After all was forgiven, the door was open for the sisters to discuss their work with each other and make plans to try to publish it.
There was something more than their love of writing that made the sisters want to publish their work. It was a fear of having to go out in the world to make a living. It had been hard enough on them to leave home for some schooling, but it was unbearable to stay away after that.
Each served as a governess to wealthy families for a short time, but they could not stand the cold indifference shown them. They longed for the warmth and love of their own home and family. At different times each one of them gave a quick notice to either school or employer and returned to the family.
They finally decided to each contribute some poems into a collection to be sent to an editor. The poems were accepted for publication, but the girls had to pay the printing expense. Only two copies were bought at that time, but these same two copies would be worth a fortune today.
Before the poems were sent off, the girls had a decision to make—what names to attach to their work. Women’s writing was not regarded highly then, so they desired to choose names that were neither feminine nor masculine. Each chose a name using her first initial. Anne chose Acton, Emily, Ellis; and Charlotte, Currer. They wanted the last name to begin with B and finally decided upon Bell.
While they were waiting for the poems to be published, they began a new, larger project. Each was at work on a novel. Emily chose to write about some old ruins that could be seen on a hilltop near their home. She had been entranced by the place for several years as she had watched the wind wuther (blow) through the moors up to the old ruins. She planned to call her book Wuthering Heights.
Both Anne and Charlotte expressed some of their unhappy experiences and feelings when serving as young governesses to wealthy families. Through Agnes Grey Anne told of the selfishness and bad tempers shown her by the “respectable” people for whom she had worked. Charlotte wanted to write about a poor, plain girl like herself, and after much thought she chose the name of Jane Eyre for her heroine.
Anne’s book had very little success at the time it was published, but she ignored that and immediately began another. Emily’s book received more attention, but not all of it was favorable. Jane Eyre, however, was soon being read by people all over the world. In time all the books written by the Brontë sisters became classics in English literature.

“I used to go to the pool and then go home before going to school,” Elizabeth remembers. Of course that was before she became a member of the Church. And it’s Heath’s, uh, fault Elizabeth added an extra hour to her already-busy schedule.
“You know how a lot of guys cuss?” Elizabeth asks. “Well, Heath wasn’t like that. And he was really nice to everyone. He was just different from any guy I’d ever met. But I didn’t know he was a Mormon at first.”
She soon found out. And before long, Heath was inviting Elizabeth to ward parties and dances. Then one Sunday Heath took Elizabeth to the Dutch Fork Ward sacrament meeting because his mother was singing. “I liked church a lot. I liked how members would bear their testimonies, and how the congregation would give the sermons. I eventually started going with him every Sunday,” Elizabeth says.
The more she heard and saw, the more interested she became. Eventually, Elizabeth requested that Heath arrange for her to be taught by the missionaries. After listening to the missionary discussions for several weeks, Elizabeth asked Heath, who had just been ordained a priest, if he would baptize her.
“When Elizabeth got baptized, it was probably the most spiritually uplifting experience I’ve ever had,” Heath says. “It was too great to describe when I baptized her. And I know Elizabeth knows this Church is true. It’s a great feeling to know I introduced her to the Church because of the way I acted.”

A number of years ago, a one-inch article in my local newspaper caught my attention, and I have remembered it ever since: “Four people were killed and seven workers were rescued after clinging for more than an hour to the underside of a 125-foot-high [38-m] bridge in St. Catharines, Ontario, [Canada,] after the scaffolding they were working on collapsed” (“News Capsules,” Deseret News, June 9, 1993, A2).
I was, and I continue to be, fascinated by this brief story. Shortly after reading this account, I called a family friend who lived in St. Catharines. She explained that the workers had been painting the Garden City Skyway bridge for about a year and were two weeks short of completing the project when the accident happened. After the accident, officials were asked why these men did not have any safety equipment. The answer was simple: they had the equipment; they just chose not to wear it. After the scaffolding gave way, the survivors held on to a one-inch (2.5-cm) lip of steel girder and stood on an eight-inch (20-cm) ledge of steel for over an hour until rescue teams could reach them. One survivor related that as he clung to the bridge, he thought a lot about his family. He said, “I just thank the Lord for me being here today. … It was pretty scary, I tell you” (in Rick Bogacz, “Skyway Horror,” Standard, June 9, 1993).
My life is not perfect. I deal with many of the same challenges. We all do. I know that the temptations of the adversary and the difficulties of mortality are ever present and beset each of us. I concur with the rescued worker’s expression of his dangerous experience of holding on to that steel girder: “It [is] pretty scary, I tell you.”

Jackie:
Being a newlywed has been a change. Honestly speaking, God is super important within our relationship. Without God, we might have broken up!

Jason:
In the beginning of our marriage, I used to be on my phone using social media or checking emails. It was easy for me to get stuck in the phone or computer.

We realized that we needed to spend more time together. So now we do housework together. This helps us get it done, and we are able to be with each other.

Jackie:
We try to squeeze some time in the mornings to be together, but mornings can get busy.

We also try to take time in the evenings to talk about our day; then we pray and read the scriptures before we sleep. Living the gospel has blessed our marriage.

Jason and Jackie know it’s important to stay connected as spouses. They also know it’s essential to stay connected to God. Regular prayer has strengthened and blessed their marriage.

Despite their busy schedules, Jason and Jackie make sure they take time in the evenings to read the scriptures together.

Filing of articles and thoughts for church talks and lessons is another chore that I simply can’t stand to do for more than a few minutes at a time. Before applying this idea to the filing task, and while waiting—and waiting—to file until I “had time” or felt “motivated,” I felt guilty about not getting it done. After years of good intentions, I decided to file two items a day, every day. I’m still at it, but now instead of two boxes of material to file, I’m down to a stack about three-inches deep. And I feel much better about my file.

Annelise Nielsen is a third-generation member of the Church. Her grandma and grandpa converted, her dad grew up in the Church and married a member, and they had Annelise. They’re all now members of the Frederiksberg Ward, and Annelise, a Beehive, is, along with Pia, one of the few young women in the ward.
And the ward currently meets in a rented building. There is an elevator in the building, but it’s pretty slow so Annelise takes the stairs. Up three flights gets her to the top floor of the building, where she enters the chapel. The building is clean and nice, but Annelise says there is a temporary feeling about where the Frederiksberg Ward meets. She looks out the window of the chapel and points.
“That’s our old chapel right there,” she says. She’s looking at a beautiful brick building one block away, the first the Church built in this country. And it sits empty—for good reason.
“That is where our temple is going to be,” Annelise says.
The Frederiksberg Ward chapel is in the process of being converted into a temple that will serve the members in Denmark and other parts of Scandinavia. So to get a temple 10 minutes from her house opposed to the 12 hours it takes by car to get to the Stockholm Sweden Temple is a real blessing and worth the sacrifice.
But there’s still the issue of the Church building a new chapel. The lease on the temporary chapel will expire soon. So on this Sunday, the members of the Frederiksberg Ward are holding a fast, praying that the Danish government will approve building a chapel on property the Church has purchased.* Annelise joined other ward members in fasting and prayer for this special purpose.
This morning, Annelise admits she’s hungry. “But when I fast I feel close to God and I feel more humble,” she says. “I don’t feel like fasting is that much of a sacrifice, and I believe if everybody in this ward prays for the same thing then our Heavenly Father will help us.”
After sacrament meeting, with her fast almost complete, Annelise doesn’t make a mad dash home to get some food. Instead, she walks out the door holding the arm of Kristel Pedersen, a 96-year-old member of her ward. Sister Pedersen joined the Church in 1958 and taught Annelise’s father in Sunday School. Each month, Annelise gets to know her better by taking time to visit with her.
“Sister Pedersen is nice to talk with. I think she’s a strong woman because she’s the only member of the Church in her family. Her husband never joined, and her children were already grown up when she was baptized,” Annelise says. “She’s 96 years old, and she still comes to church each Sunday.
“I admire people like Sister Pedersen,” Annelise adds, “who are close to Heavenly Father. And when I do things like fasting, it brings me closer to Him too.”

Samuel Taylor Coleridge once heard a farmer renowned for his productive acres, his sculptured gardens, and his bright children say that he hoped his children would grow up to be God-fearing, prayerful, religious people, but that he would never prejudice them in favor of religion by imposing religious principles on them or taking them to church. They would, he said, grow up and decide for themselves.

Coleridge answered the man, “Bravo! This is a very progressive idea. Why do you not apply it also to your fields and orchards and gardens in the future? Do not prejudice the soil to seed or weeding or cultivation, the trees to pruning or thinning, the gardens to bulbs or planting. Why not see if they will grow up and just decide to be what you hope they will become?”

“One, two, three, skip four, and five!” Diane chanted as she hopped and skipped down the hopscotch squares. Now that school was out, she could play outside every day with her friend Laura. Diane teetered on one foot, then giggled. As she regained her balance, she noticed a girl she had never seen before walking over from the house next door.
“My name’s Emma,” the girl said. “Can I play with you?”
“Sure!” Diane said. Laura grinned and nodded.
The three girls laughed and played all morning long. Emma was a lot of fun to be around! When she told Diane and Laura that she was visiting her grandparents for two weeks, the girls decided to play together every day.
But on Saturday, Emma told Diane and Laura that she wouldn’t be playing with them the next day.
“Why not?” Laura asked.
“I go to church every Sunday morning, then spend time with my family,” Emma explained. “I’m a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
Diane frowned. “Can’t you miss church just this once?” she asked. They didn’t have many days left to play together.
“I don’t want to miss church,” Emma said. “I love going. We have a fun meeting called Primary that’s just for kids. We sing and listen to stories about Jesus and the prophets.”
Diane and Laura looked at her doubtfully. It sure didn’t sound as fun as hopscotch.
“You could both come with me, if you wanted,” Emma said.
“Um, no thanks,” Diane said.
“Nah,” Laura said.
But on Monday, Diane asked Emma to tell them more about her church. She and Laura both wondered how it could possibly be more fun than playing on Sunday.
“Yesterday I heard stories from the Book of Mormon.” Her friends looked puzzled. “It’s a book like the Bible and has lots of scriptures and stories about Jesus,” Emma explained. “When I pray about the stories, I feel happy and I know that Heavenly Father is telling me they’re true.”
For two weeks the girls played together almost every day. It felt like they had always been friends. The days passed quickly, and then it was time for Emma to go home. She was sad to leave, and Diane and Laura were sad to see her go. They watched and waved as Emma drove away with her family.
“I didn’t really understand everything she was telling us about her church,” Laura said.
“Me neither,” Diane said. “But I felt good when she was talking about it.”
“Yeah,” Laura said.