Gospel Story Finder

Keoni Barney, 16, is a recent Church convert in the Mount Vernon Stake. “All the kids were just so nice,” he says. He found out about the Church when he moved in with his aunt and uncle and started dancing with the youth at their practices. He says his friends’ examples helped him gain a testimony. “I’ve never seen so much energy out of a group of youth in my entire life,” Keoni laughs. He says he can’t keep up with them, but maybe it’s the over-sized collar on his disco outfit that’s holding him back, he jokes. “I love having the opportunity to be in the dance festival.”

Howard Tonks was called to serve a mission to Australia on November 17, 1916, by President Joseph F. Smith. It is interesting to me that this was the same year that President Smith told Harvey Fletcher to go to work in New York City. Howard left his home in Victor, Idaho, on December 30, 1916, by train; reported at the Office of the First Presidency in Salt Lake City on January 3, 1917; and boarded a steamer in San Francisco on January 31, 1917, bound for Hawaii, then Pago Pago (Samoa), and finally Sydney, Australia. This was during World War I, and he saw some German battleships and merchant ships being held by the United States in Pago Pago. He finally arrived in Sydney on February 21, 1917 (a three-week voyage!).

Howard kept a brief journal of his mission experiences that is cherished by his family. Howard served in Melbourne and Perth. It was wartime, and many young men his age were being sent to Europe to fight in the trenches of World War I. He watched as thousands of Australian men were loaded onto ships to go to war. At first Howard was very lonely and a little discouraged. However, he learned to love the Australian and Maori people, and they learned to love him as he brought them the truths of the gospel.

Howard had to stay in Australia a little longer than the average missionary because of the war. Due to submarine danger there was a genuine concern for ships traveling the oceans. The armistice for World War I was signed in November 1918. Most of the ships were used to bring troops home from overseas, so Howard served until March 1920—a little over three years from when he began his mission.

People sometimes yield to temptation when a situation arises that makes it possible for them to make money easily. The opportunity clouds their ethical judgment. One man, for example, held a position of trust in which thousands of investors relied on his assertions about the financial stability of a particular company. Had he told the truth about the company’s poor financial health, he would have lost the company as a client. For six years he lied, accepting bribes from the client in exchange for his silence. Eventually, the truth became known, the company collapsed, investors lost hundreds of millions of dollars, and this man went to prison.

What do you think of when you think of a brother? If you’re from the Lakewood Ward of the Tempe Arizona West Stake, or if you attend Desert Vista High School in Phoenix and you’re into sports, Matt and Mark Fletcher come to mind. Matt, 19, and Mark, 17, are well known among their family and friends because their example shows what it really means to be brothers.
“One of the big things about Matt is how well he has kept Church standards,” Mark says. “You see some of the bad stuff other people do, but it doesn’t influence Matt. If something’s not right, he tells them, ‘I’m not going to do this,’ and he sticks with it. He prefers to do what is right. His example influences me. It’s been a real advantage to have a good older brother.”
Matt is equally impressed with Mark. “He’s a better brother than I am,” he says. “We have a common interest in a lot of things, like missionary work and sports, and we love to motivate each other.”
Much of that motivating has been obvious over the years—going to Church activities and seminary together; hiking the Grand Canyon rim-to-rim and trekking to Havasupi Falls with Dad and other relatives; earning Duty to God awards and organizing Eagle Scout projects; working with a group in Mesa that builds homes for poor families in Mexico; planning group dates and staging impromptu basketball games that are legendary with their friends.
But there’s another motivation for these two brothers that most people don’t know about—each of them has overcome a learning disorder. “Matt struggles with comprehension and short-term memory, with applying what he’s learned to solving problems,” explains his mother, Christine. Mark, on the other hand, has central auditory processing disorder, which means he “has to have things explained several times to understand, but then once he gets it, he’s got it.” For both young men, that means spending three or four times as much effort on homework as other students. However, they have each achieved nearly flawless grade point averages.
It also means the quick thinking required in sports can be particularly challenging. Fortunately, the Fletchers have been blessed with compassionate coaches. One of them, Ryan Tolman, coaches junior varsity basketball and varsity volleyball at Desert Vista High. He recalls when Matt was cut from the basketball team his sophomore year, partly because he couldn’t keep track of all the plays.
“Instead of giving up, he put together his own playbook, and then he would sit and draw diagrams, map out the X’s and O’s on little note cards, and go over the plays again and again,” Coach Tolman recalls. Matt also practiced night after night and morning after morning at a local gym. He never became a star, but through hard work he did make the team. He also convinced one of the star players to stop using foul language. As a senior he received the Joe Selleh Award, given to the team’s “outstanding contributor.”
Mark’s sport was volleyball, and he was cut from the freshman team about the same time Matt was cut from the basketball team. Following his brother’s example, he decided not to quit but to work harder. “That’s another common ground we have as brothers; we’ve learned the value of work,” says Mark. And Mark had his work cut out for him. “I’m six feet, one inch, and as a middle blocker, I was up against a senior who is six feet, seven inches.” To compensate, he decided to become one of the best jumpers on the team. Like Matt, he trained incessantly. In fact, they worked out together.
Mark made the team. Then, during his junior year, “The coach told me I probably wasn’t going to get much varsity playing time, so he wanted me to play junior varsity as well. That way I’d get experience instead of just sitting on the bench. It helped a lot. By keeping my form right, I increased my vertical leap, and I got to work on it during actual competition.”
Mark also found another way to contribute. “I wanted to get the rest of the team to be more enthusiastic from the bench,” he says, “so I came up with lots of positive things to say and encouraged everybody to do the same thing.” Guess who won the Selleh award for the varsity volleyball team? The trophies sit side-by-side on a shelf in Matt and Mark’s bedroom.
But there’s more to these brothers than sports. Their father, Don, recalls that “when Matt was serving as teachers quorum president, he took his calling seriously. He identified quorum members who didn’t attend regularly and prayed about what to do. He worked with adult leaders to organize an overnight campout he thought they would attend. One young man said he would be interested, and Matt followed up with him almost daily at school. In the end, three less-active boys came, enjoyed the association with the others, and heard the bishop make a presentation about Joseph Smith and bear testimony of the Savior.”
Later, when Mark was teachers quorum president, he had a similar experience. He found a young man who had not attended in some time, and went after opportunities to invite him to come back. The young man came out to an activity and felt welcome at church again.
Today, Matt, as an elder, and Mark, as a priest, continue to watch out for less-active quorum members—they send birthday greetings and make visits. Sometimes they just sit and talk. “It’s like the Savior said,” Matt comments. “Leave the ninety and nine and find the one who has wandered away.” (See Matthew 18:12–13.)
Matt and Mark also know that brothers can do a lot to strengthen the family. They spend time helping their sisters, Sarah and Catherine, with their homework. They also play games—sometimes it’s checkers or ping pong, but often it’s a variation of dodge ball, with soft, puffy balls grandma made just for that purpose. They also enjoy home evening, reading scriptures together, family prayer, and listening to grandpa talk about his service as a mission president. Matt expresses his admiration for his father: “He always talks about people in a positive way, especially Church leaders. He inspires me to want to be that way, too.” Mark remembers the many times he worked side-by-side with his mother as she ran a small business mowing lawns, weeding, trimming bushes, and picking up leaves. “She never took money from those in need,” he explains. “That taught me a lot about serving other people.”
Music has also been a large part of Matt and Mark’s family participation. Both play the piano and encourage each other to learn new songs the same way they challenge each other athletically. Both have served as priesthood meeting pianists and have played in sacrament meetings and other settings. Mark particularly enjoys performing duets with Sarah, who plays piano and flute.
It’s a hot day in Phoenix. Aren’t most of them? But it’s worth braving outdoor temperatures near 110 degrees to enter the cool chapel and hear Matt—now Elder Fletcher—speak in sacrament meeting prior to his departure for the Brazil Porto Alegre North Mission. He talks about his experiences as a deacon, teacher, and priest; about the ministering of angels; about an experience his father had that taught him that the Lord is watching over us; about the determination it took to succeed in a difficult class at BYU–Idaho that required him to learn to study in a new way; and how he will use that same determination, coupled with faith, to succeed as a missionary.
It is a memorable talk, and the family is still discussing it when a relative reminds Mark that because of their ages, the two brothers will go for three and a half years before they see each other again. Mark recalls what their stake president Karl Tilleman said. He told them that if they serve with integrity, their reunion after their missions will be similar to the joyful reunion experienced by Alma and the sons of Mosiah in the Book of Mormon. (See Alma 17:1–3.) After all, Matt went away to college, and when he came home, that reunion was sweet.
Besides, Mark and Matt know that they are not only brothers in their family, but brothers in the priesthood and in eternity. And that means they not only have each other but thousands, even millions, of brothers all over the world.
Imagine having the opportunity to share the gospel with people from 11 different countries at the same time! That’s what Mark Fletcher was able to do during the summer. He was selected as a youth ambassador for the city of Phoenix and given the opportunity to visit Prague, the capital of the Czech Republic. Everywhere he went, with city officials, at camps, and in social gatherings, Mark was recognized as a Latter-day Saint and often answered questions about his standards.
Then similar youth ambassadors from 11 countries gathered in Phoenix, and Mark was able to talk about the Church with them as well. It was great to follow his brother’s example of missionary work in Brazil by sharing his testimony with youth from all over the world.

I had always been jealous of Lynn. Despite a close friendship, Lynn and I had always been in unspoken competition with each other in high school—at least, I always felt that way. I longed to be like her. She was pretty, intelligent, talented, and fun to be around. I, on the other hand, lacked confidence in my appearance and felt socially inept.
After I had been home from my mission for nearly a year, I met Lynn for lunch. I told her how I had always envied her. She listened quietly and then looked at me in astonishment. “I was always jealous of you!” she said. I realized then how pointless my unspoken envy had been. I asked her if she could forgive me.
“Of course,” she said. “As long as you can forgive me, too.”
We laughed then and cried a little. I felt an old bitterness melt away to be replaced by peace and an intense gratitude for Lynn’s friendship.

A man passing the sacrament while listening to music on his headphones. This would be wildly inappropriate in most cases. But let me share “the rest of the story.” I knew a man who has a strong testimony and has served a mission and accepted a variety of callings. In recent years, however, he was diagnosed with a schizoaffective disorder. Wearing headphones lets him listen to soft, peaceful music and helps block out the ever-present voices in his mind. He is able to feel the Spirit and reverently serve others with the help of his headphones.

Illustration by Allen Garns
My family and I were excited to be traveling by car from Romania to Kyiv, Ukraine, for the dedication of the temple in August 2010. Knowing that this would be the temple for the Saints in the Romania/Moldova Mission, we traveled for about 14 hours just to be there. When we arrived, we met another group who had also traveled from Romania. We were all happy to be in Kyiv for this sacred event.
On the day of the dedication, our group from Romania was assigned to watch the dedication via broadcast in a room on the ground floor of the temple. Some began to express their disappointment. They had hoped to participate in the dedication with the prophet in the celestial room. Some even said that they could have just stayed at home and watched the broadcast from their chapel in Romania.
I began to pray in my heart, “Heavenly Father, how can we help these members from Romania have an unforgettable experience in Thy house?”
I still hadn’t received an answer when the dedicatory session began. Soon we learned that the prophet, President Thomas S. Monson (1927–2018), was going to come down and put the cornerstone into place. Perhaps this could be our answer! I prayed for a way for the prophet to come and greet the Romanian Saints.
“I don’t ask for this for myself,” I prayed, “but for my brothers and sisters.”
After the cornerstone ceremony, President Monson walked by our room on his way back to the celestial room. Suddenly, I felt in my heart that I should stand and invite him to come in our room.
I stood and said, “Our prophet! Come and see us. We are from Romania.”
He didn’t seem to hear me. Then, a moment later, he came back. “Romania!” he said and entered the room.
He greeted all of us and said he loved us very much. My heart was full as I watched the joyful faces of our dear members. “Thank you, dear Father,” I prayed, “for this miracle in Thy house.”
When the prophet left the room, no one was sad anymore. I felt that we were in the most blessed room in the temple. It was an experience I will never forget.

I had an experience that illustrates this notion:

I served for a time as a member of the Association of Directors of Religion at a university in the Northwest. A broad variety of faiths was represented in the group. We met monthly to discuss common concerns about our assignments with the university students of our particular denominations. One Monday morning before the meeting had formally begun, I was seated to the left of one of my Protestant minister friends. I can still see it in my mind's eye. He leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head and, in his typical manner of expression, shared a concern and question. It went something like this:

It seems to me that in the evolutionary development of college-age religiosity, we have come to a time when it is no longer considered relevant by university students to attend Sunday evening worship services.

In other words, attendance among his group was decreasing.

He turned to his right, and asked, "How do you find it in your group?" Each minister in his own way agreed that, over time, the attendance in their groups was decreasing in their worship services.

Finally, after everyone else in the circle had commented, my turn came. At the time, I was also serving as the bishop of the student ward. Coincidentally, at our ward's sacrament meeting the night before this meeting, a note was handed to me by Brother Huber, our ward clerk. It contained the following message: "Congratulations, Bishop! Tonight we have the highest sacrament meeting attendance we have had since we were called to serve." Our experience was just the opposite of all the ministers who had responded. The attendance of our university students was steadily increasing. I tried to figure out a way to report that to the group as humbly as possible.

I met these two students for the first time Friday, November 21, 2025. They work at the Activities and Involvement desk in the Manwaring Center. I randomly saw them there the day the First Presidency announced the age change for sister missionaries.

They told me they were both working on their missionary papers and had them ready to send in and that they would be turning 19 in a few months. But with this announcement that day, they were eligible now.

My question to you: Are you ready? Are you eligible now for any opportunities that might pop up in your life?

That question has stayed with me. These sisters set a great example for me and helped me to think I need to be ready now for whatever might come my way. They were building me just by how they acted that day.

Since that day, the sisters have reported back to me that they were both called to serve Spanish-speaking missions, one in the Georgia Atlanta North Mission, and the other in the Bolivia Santa Cruz Mission. One is in the MTC already! The other enters the MTC next week!

I had often wondered if the long hours I spent struggling to get my children to be reverent in church would ever be worth it. It did not take much for David, my seven-year-old, to get four-year-old Jeff and one-year-old Wade giggling, whispering, or fighting. Although each week I came with a new idea for helping my sons to be more reverent, I usually went home from church tired and discouraged. Many times I became angry and had to take one of the children out of the chapel so that others would not be disturbed.
But I was concerned about my approach to the problem. Did my continual disciplining make them feel unacceptable to our Heavenly Father? I decided that the next fast Sunday I would make my sons’ problem with reverence the object of my thoughts and prayer.
That Sunday, five minutes hadn’t passed before I felt that I should take David out of the chapel. But because I had been fasting and praying about this problem, I offered a quick prayer instead. “Father,” I asked, “he needs correction, but I want to do it in the right way. What should I do?”
The impression I felt was, “Be patient. Help him settle down as best you can.”
I tried to obey that impression and was able to keep things more under control than before. Then, toward the end of the meeting, I watched as David stood to bear his testimony.
At that moment I realized that, if I had acted on my first feelings, he probably would not have felt the Spirit which prompted him to bear his testimony.
That experience was given to me by our Heavenly Father to show me that, in raising my children, if I follow the Spirit I can help them to grow in the gospel and help them develop their own testimonies.
I have remembered that experience whenever I have been tempted to speak out with criticism or to doubt my children’s actions. It has tempered the punishments I have meted out and has helped me to remember love in times of anger.

I think I will mention a personal experience. I’m not sure I have told this publicly except once a few weeks ago in Tonga. While stationed in Tokyo, on one occasion we were assigned to take a B-17 bomber and go down to Saipan Island and then on to Guam, if necessary, to get a beacon light. I was an operations officer and we needed a beacon light at the base. We left Tokyo heading south into the Pacific. Because the war was just over, air flight safety was not put together as it is now. We did not know that there was forming, out in the central Pacific, a typhoon of major proportions.

Now, Pacific islands from airplanes are very difficult to see; clouds look like islands and vice versa. I remember the navigator said, “If we’re on course, we should be over Iwa Jima soon.” He began counting: “Ten, nine, eight,” and so on and when he counted “zero,” we tipped the plane and looked down through broken clouds and directly below us was Iwa Jima. We were right on course. We kidded him about being an expert.

Several hours later he said, “We’re off course. Something’s wrong!” We dropped down through the cloud cover. There were terrible winds. The ocean was white with waves. He said, “I don’t know where we are.” Then, of course, to add melodrama to the drama, the radios went out. There we were!

We began flying a “square search.” Lost pilots don’t just fly around aimlessly. They fly a definite pattern so that they know they’re covering new territory and not just flying in circles. We flew a long course on compass. The other pilot said, “Let’s turn.” For some reason I said, “Hold it just a minute.” We were just a few thousand feet above the water. Suddenly I could see a long line of white waves and we pulled up over some rocks sticking out of the ocean. We knew then that somewhere nearby was an island. We had no idea whether we were over the rocks south of it or north of it. We made a prayerful turn and in about five or ten minutes on our short range radio we could hear voices. Soon we pulled over Tinian Island where there was an airfield. As we landed the B-17 and were taxiing down the runway, one by one the engines went off. We were out of gas.

During the last hour of that flight, when I sat there wondering if we would or if we wouldn’t make it, my patriarchal blessing kept coming to my mind. It said, “You will be warned of danger, and if you heed those warnings you will be privileged to return to your loved ones.” I thought, “Well, I’ve tried.” I sat there thinking, “The gospel’s true and what else matters? That prophetic declaration will see us safely through this, and if it doesn’t, we’re in the hands of the Lord now.”

Being modest has its rewards! For one of my Personal Progress goals, I chose to make something for my 4-H project that would be modest and help me share my values with the community. I made a skirt, entered it into a 4-H fashion show, and modeled it. As I modeled, the judge looked to see if the outfit was age appropriate and how it fit; she also evaluated my demeanor. The judge commented on how she loved the skirt and how the shirt I chose complemented the modesty of the skirt. She praised me for the courage I had to choose an outfit that was age appropriate and modest. Other girls that I competed against had made outfits that were more elaborate and revealing. It made me feel good to know that I had followed the teachings that I had learned in Young Women about virtue. I felt good about what I had done (and winning a ribbon made it all the better). Even if I hadn’t placed in the competition, I know that doing the right thing gives you rewards.

Many of you will remember and love the inspirational story of Betsie and Corrie ten Boom, Dutch sisters who became prisoners of war in Nazi Germany, and how they turned to the Bible in their great need in Ravensbrü, the notorious women’s concentration camp. Corrie told us:
“As for us, from morning until lights-out, whenever we were not in ranks for roll call, our Bible was the center of an ever-widening circle of help and hope. Like waifs clustered around a blazing fire, we gathered about it, holding out our hearts to its warmth and light. The blacker the night around us grew, the brighter and truer and more beautiful burned the word of God. ‘Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? . . . Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.’
I would look about us as Betsie read, watching the light leap from face to face.” [Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place (New York: Bantam Books, 1971), 194–95]
The words of God fed and sustained these women. They brought warmth and light. They were more precious than gold and sweeter than honey.

Now, referring to the statement about “convincing them of my word which shall have already gone forth among them,” I want to tell you of a little experience I had when I was in Holland. I had an invitation from some businessmen to attend one of their Bible classes. They met every week in one of the homes. We met that week in the home of a prominent furniture dealer. There were about 20 men there, and the only woman was the daughter of the man of the house. They gave me an hour and a half to discuss universal salvation, which includes our doctrine of preaching the gospel in the eternal worlds to the spirits that were disobedient here upon the earth and the doctrine of baptism of the living for the dead. So after I had discussed that matter, I just gave them chapter and verse and let them read it in their own copies of the Bible. I figured that they would believe it more if they read it in their Bible; otherwise, they would think that I had a different Bible. When I was through, I laid my Bible on the table and folded my arms and waited for a comment.
The first comment came from the daughter of the man of the house. She said, “Father, I just can’t understand it. I have never attended one of these Bible classes in my life when you haven’t had the last word to say on everything, and tonight you haven’t said a word.”
He shook his head and said, “My daughter, there isn’t anything to say. This man has been teaching us things we have never heard of, and he’s been teaching them to us out of our own Bible.” That’s what the Lord meant when he said that the prophet of this dispensation would not only bring forth his words, but would convince people of his words that had already gone forth among them.

At first glance, it looks like a rainbow is running wild. It’s twisting and turning and flowing all over a lush green hillside, in seemingly random motion.
But take a closer look, and you’ll see that the rainbow is made up of hundreds of girls in brightly colored T-shirts. They’ve come to this campground near Richmond, Virginia, for a three-day mother-daughter gathering, and each stake has been assigned certain colored T-shirts that correspond with each of the Young Women values.
The motion of the rainbow is actually being orchestrated by a small airplane flying overhead. It’s strafing the girls with packets of candy, and they follow its erratic flight over the hillside in hopes of catching extra sweets for their mothers and friends.
The theme of the encampment is “A More Excellent Way,” and all the activities, meetings, and programs focus on how living the Young Women values can help make lives better.
Included are songs, dances, talks, cheers, and even a rap by “Run LDS” that stresses the Young Women values.
But nowhere are those values more apparent than in the lives of the girls themselves. They are the values personified, each adding her own unique color to the rainbow that could only be formed when nearly 1,000 LDS women collect in one place.
Most doctors would be stunned to see Maria Turman at the encampment. As a matter of fact, they would be surprised to see her alive and smiling at all. Just a few short weeks ago, they were sure she was dying of brain cancer.
“I could barely stand the thought of what she would have to endure through whatever time she had left,” said her mother. “So we went home and called everyone we knew and asked them to pray for her. People of every faith joined us in prayer, and her name was in many of the temples.”
People fasted for her. People prayed for her. And they supported her in other ways too—like those who stood by her in the hospital, and the friend who told her that if she had to shave off her beautiful hair, he would shave his head too and, who knows, maybe they’d start a fad.
After a grueling two weeks of treatment and testing, her doctor came to her in total shock. “There’s been a miracle,” he said. “This girl does not have brain cancer. She does have another disease, but it is not fatal.”
Through all this Maria and everyone involved developed an incredible amount of faith—faith in the power of prayer, faith in the power of the priesthood from which blessings came that said she would be restored, and faith in the power and love of Heavenly Father.
Maria adds a sparkling, pure white to the rainbow.
Things don’t always go perfectly for everyone. All prayers aren’t always answered in the way we expect. Such was the case for one Laurel who would have given anything to have her non-LDS mother at the encampment with her.
“I prayed all summer long that my mom would share this weekend with me,” she said. “She didn’t. I cried, and I felt pretty down. I saw all the love between the mothers and daughters here, and I wished I could have that too. I have a friend here who was in the same position, so we decided to kneel down, just the two of us, and pray.
“I’ve never felt the Spirit so strong in all my life,” she continued. “I knew that Heavenly Father was right there with me. I knew that I’m his daughter and that I’m loved by him.”
Her mother did not attend the encampment with her, but she was able to learn about the love of another Parent. Knowing of that love and of her own divine nature will sustain her through trials for the rest of her life, and enables her to add a magnificent blue to the rainbow.
The women in the Perkins family were sorely missed back home. Their men were sitting silent in their plantation house at the end of a long, dirt road. The family plays bluegrass music together, but Susan, who plays the piano and upright bass, wasn’t around.
Lynda, the mother, who had never been separated from her husband except to give birth to a child, wasn’t there either. And Stacey, who adds the smile and sparkle, was also absent.
With the fuss the men put up about their leaving, there was no doubt in the women’s minds about their individual worth.
But they knew they needed to learn more about their lives as daughters of a Heavenly Father who loves them.
So off they went to the encampment, where they add their vibrant red to the rainbow.
Knowledge made the difference in Denver Mendiola’s life—knowledge of the English language, which she learned only two years ago, and, most important, knowledge of the truthfulness of the gospel.
Twelve-year-old Denver has not had an easy life. She was born in the Philippines, and her family was introduced to the gospel by missionaries tracting there. When Denver was ten, her mother was shot and killed, and her family divided. Denver came to the U.S. to live with her sister.
But Denver is not bitter. In fact, she was one of the happiest, most energetic girls at the encampment. Even when a minor accident caused her to need stitches, she was smiling and had a ready laugh. She’ll tell you it was because the doctor who sewed her up was gorgeous, but her positive attitude goes deeper than that. “I know that I’ll see my mother again, and that makes me happy,” she says. “I love being Mormon, and I know that the Church is true.”
That knowledge gives Denver a merry green to add to the rainbow.
It’s a critical time for Leah Guzman. The decisions she’s making now will affect her forever.
For most of her life, Leah attended her father’s church. But recently, since her parents split up, she’s been going to church with her mother at the Virginia Beach Third Ward. Although she’d attended LDS meetings when she was younger, it’s still a bit new to her, and she’s in the middle of deciding just how important the Church will be in her life.
The decision to come to the encampment was a big one for her, and she’s happy she made it. “I’m glad I came,” Leah said. “At the other church they had carnivals once a year and a church fair, but nothing like this, where you really get to know each other and learn things. I’ve decided to start coming to this church all the time. It’s different and I like it.”
Leah has many other important decisions ahead, but the one she’s already made adds a beautiful, bright orange to the rainbow.
Shanon Graber of Virginia Beach is the type of person who dives right into things with energy and enthusiasm. That’s why she was so successful with the fund-raising projects the youth in her ward sponsored all year long.
They did pizza sales and Valentine cookie sales and doughnut sales and garage sales. The girls in the ward needed money for girls’ camp and youth conference, as well as the mother-daughter encampment, and it was taking an awful lot of work.
But Shanon shined. She put her shoulder and her heart to it and ended up making more than enough to cover her expenses. So what did she do with the excess? “Sister Murdock?” she asked her adviser, “do any of the other girls need any help?” Shanon, a Mia Maid, ended up donating enough money for two more girls to come to the encampment.
Those good works help her add a brilliant yellow to the rainbow.
“It was the first time I’d performed in public in four years,” said Gretchen Williams, from Newport News, when talking about her performance the night before in the opening program. She danced a ballet solo while a friend sang a song. What most people didn’t know is the she’d given up her beloved ballet several years earlier because she was afflicted by painful arthritis.
When Gretchen arrived at the encampment, she discovered that the stage would be much smaller and shaped differently than the one she’d rehearsed on. It would have been easy to back out, using her physical pain or the unfamiliar stage as an excuse. After all, under the given circumstances, there was no way she could perform her best, and hundreds of people would be watching. But Gretchen wouldn’t think of pulling out.
She realized, as the program she performed in said, “Integrity is doing what you know you should do, even it it’s inconvenient or difficult.”
And with that she adds a deep, rich purple to the rainbow.
Each girl at the encampment contributed her own, unique shade, and the mothers helped mix them together. “This is so good for our girls—being able to come here and share with so many other people who have the same morals and standards as they do,” said Linda Floyd of Waynesborough. “We’re all just walking around about two feet off the ground.”
Nothing could dampen their spirits, not even the warm Virginia rains that came and ended the encampment a day early. The rainbow colors ran a bit, but only to become beautifully blended.
People worked together to make sure that everyone left dry and happy.
“It’s programs like these that make mother-daughter relationships that last for eternity,” said Tara Romney, from Newport News.
The commitments, the decisions, and the loving relationships that were made and cultivated that weekend certainly do have eternal significance. They create a brilliant, beautiful rainbow that will span from this life into the next.

After some time, my family moved from Maryland to Utah, where we lived on a farm in North Logan. We had some horses, some cows, some pigs, some chickens, two dogs, a few cats, and we even had a pet pig. Though it became necessary to sell the cows, my father kept one milk cow.
Each morning before school, I helped my older brother, Lou, milk the family cow. One morning, my brother was sick and I had to milk the cow alone. I was just eight years old. This was the first time I had ever had to milk the cow by myself. I set up my stool and bucket and started to milk. She kicked the bucket and walked away.
I picked up the bucket and stool, walked over to her, and again started to milk. Again, she kicked the bucket and walked away. I had to milk the cow before I went to school, so I picked up my stool and bucket and walked over to her and started to milk. A third time, she kicked the bucket and walked away.
I needed help! I knelt down in the morning sunlight and began to pray. I explained to Heavenly Father, “I can’t do this by myself. Please, please help me!” Without any hesitation, I picked up the bucket and my stool and walked over to the cow and began to milk. She did not move. She stood still until I finished milking. I quickly carried the bucket to the house, gave it to my mother, and was able to run to school and arrive on time, knowing that Heavenly Father had answered my prayer.

When Kathy and I were married and sealed in the Logan Utah Temple, then-Elder Spencer W. Kimball performed our sealing. In the few words he spoke, he gave this counsel: “Hal and Kathy, live so that when the call comes, you can walk away easily.”

Initially, we did not understand what that counsel meant for us, but we did our best to live our lives in such a way that we would be prepared to leave to serve the Lord when the call came. After we had been married nearly 10 years, an unanticipated call did come from the Commissioner of Church Education, Neal A. Maxwell.

The loving counsel given by President Kimball in the temple to be able to “walk away easily” became a reality. Kathy and I received a call to leave what seemed an idyllic family situation in California to serve in an assignment and in a place that I knew nothing about. However, our family was ready to leave because a prophet, in a holy temple, a place of revelation, saw a future event for which we were then prepared.

Several years ago I had the opportunity of playing quarterback in the National Football League. Over a seven-year period I played for the Pittsburgh Steelers, the St. Louis Cardinals, and the Atlanta Falcons.
The first of the two thrills took place one day when I was playing with the Steelers against the Philadelphia Eagles. On the first play of the game from scrimmage, I faked to the halfback and dropped back into the pocket. I threw a long pass down the sideline, and my receiver, who was racing down the sideline as fast as he could go, reached out with one hand, caught the ball, pulled it in, and went all the way for a touchdown.
That touchdown pass was a great thrill for me. It was really exciting with 80,000 people cheering. Not many people will have that particular thrill during their lifetime.
The second thrill happened after I retired from professional football. A young man became interested in the gospel through some discussions we had. I invited him to my home. He brought his girl friend with him, and the full-time missionaries taught them the gospel. They were converted. I had the opportunity of baptizing these two young people. A year later they came to Salt Lake City, and I had the privilege of going through the Salt Lake Temple with them when they were sealed for time and eternity.
The experience of seeing those beautiful young people accept the gospel and be united forever was a great thrill. It was a different kind of thrill than the touchdown pass. There were only a few people present in the “sacred silence,” but it was still very exciting.
When I compare the thrill of the touchdown pass with the thrill of those baptisms, there is absolutely no comparison. The baptisms were far more exciting! That may sound phony at first, because now we “see through a glass darkly” (1 Cor. 13:12), but I testify that the greatest thrills in this life come from serving the Lord.
It’s perfectly logical when we think about it. Who is going to remember that touchdown pass? Just two people—myself and the fellow who caught the ball. No one else will feel the impact or even remember the play. Just try to remember who played in the Super Bowl two years ago.
In contrast, contemplate all those who will remember the baptisms: this young couple’s children, grandchildren, and many generations to come, not to mention those this couple have brought into the Church.
At the day of judgment, the books will be opened, and those baptisms will be noted. We will be able to see that record, and angels will look upon it. Many will feel the impact of this thrill throughout eternity. “And now, if your joy will be great with one soul that you have brought unto me into the kingdom of my Father, how great will be your joy if you should bring many souls unto me” (D&C 18:16). And while few of us may experience the thrill of a touchdown pass, every young man and woman in the Church can know the greater thrill of sharing the gospel!
There are many exciting thrills in life, but we will enjoy the greatest of them through the gospel by learning and growing, by teaching, by sharing, by serving as a friend and a missionary. If we can learn to love the things that God loves, we will comprehend the true meaning of life, and we will seek after the joy of the gospel with all our heart, might, mind, and strength.

Ten-year-old Olivia* rolled over on her side and tried to go back to sleep, even though she knew it would be impossible. After all, it was Christmas—Christmas 1843. “Well, just barely,” Olivia thought as she counted the 12 chimes that echoed softly from her mother’s clock.
Last Christmas, she had lived far away in Leek, England. Then Grandpa had listened to the missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. “These men speak the truth,” he had said. Three months later, Olivia and her entire family were baptized, along with Grandpa Richard and Grandma Lettice Rushton.
The decision to leave England to join the Saints in America had been a very hard one. Would Grandpa be able to sell his silk business? What kind of work would Papa find? Would baby James get sick and die, like Mama’s other baby? And what about Grandma Lettice? Because she was blind, it would be especially difficult for her to leave her home for an unfamiliar land. After a lot of prayer and asking the Lord, Papa knew they needed to follow the counsel of the Prophet Joseph Smith and join the Saints in Zion.
And now it was Christmas—and Christmas in Nauvoo was very different from Christmas back home. For one thing, Grandpa Rushton had died, and Olivia missed him terribly. For another thing, people here in Nauvoo didn’t burn yule logs, sing carols, and exchange presents, as people in England did. In fact, many people in Nauvoo didn’t celebrate the day at all. Mama said that it was because of the religious customs many of them had before they joined the Church. But that didn’t seem like a very good reason to Olivia. “If only we could celebrate Christmas as we did in England!” she thought with a sigh.
Just then, she heard muffled voices by the front door. Olivia slid out of bed and tiptoed across the cold floor. “Mama?”
Her mother and father were bundled up in warm coats and hats!
“Where are you going, Mama?”
“What are you doing up, Olivia?” Mama whispered. “You should be in bed.”
“I couldn’t sleep—and then I heard you.”
“Well, go back to bed,” Mama said. “Grandma Lettice asked us to go singing with her.”
“Singing—now? May I come too?”
“It’s cold outside,” Papa said.
“I don’t mind,” Olivia replied. “Please?”
Mama and Papa exchanged glances. “Well, all right,” Papa said. “But you’ll have to dress quickly. We don’t want to be late.”
Olivia changed into her warmest clothes, then followed her parents into the chilly darkness. The cold stung her face, and her breath turned into puffy clouds. “Where are we going?” she asked. “Are we going to sing a song I know?”
“You’ll see,” Mama said.
Just as she was wondering how much farther she would have to walk, Olivia saw her aunts and uncles, Grandma Lettice, and several neighbors gathered together outside the Mansion House at the corner of Main Street and Water Street.
The Prophet’s house! Olivia caught her breath. “Are we going to sing to the Prophet?” she wondered.
“All right, everyone,” Grandma Lettice whispered. “Just as we rehearsed it.”
For a split second, Olivia wondered if it had been a mistake to come—she hadn’t rehearsed anything. But after hearing only two notes, Olivia realized that she did know the song. It was one of the songs in Sister Emma Smith’s hymnal. She took a deep breath and sang with the rest of the carolers:
“Mortals, awake! with angels join,
And chant the solemn lay;
Love, joy, and gratitude combine
To hail th’ auspicious day.”
(A Collection of Sacred Hymns for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints [1835], number 77)
Soon lights flickered to life, and windows of the Mansion House opened. The Prophet Joseph Smith, his family, and the boarders who were living at the Smith home all looked out.
“Who’s singing?” someone asked.
“How lovely,” whispered another.
“Are there angels outside?”
Although Olivia wasn’t an angel, she certainly felt like one as a wave of warmth spread from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. “How happy the Prophet looks,” she thought.
When they finished singing, the Prophet thanked them for their beautiful serenade and blessed them in the name of the Lord.
“Merry Christmas,” Olivia called as she and the other singers left. All at once she didn’t want to be back in England anymore. She knew she belonged here with her family, the restored Church, and the Lord’s prophet. In fact, she couldn’t think of a better place to have Christmas.

I saw that diligence and heard that laughter when, late on a Saturday, I visited with a group of Latter-day Saints in Florida. The volunteers stopped their cleanup labor long enough to let me shake some hands. They said that 90 members of their stake in Georgia had created a plan to join in the rescue in Florida just the night before.
They left Georgia at 4:00 in the morning, drove for hours, worked through the day and into the night, and planned to labor again the next day.
They described it to me all with smiles and good humor. The only stress I sensed was that they wanted to stop being thanked so they could get back to work. The stake president had restarted his chain saw and was working on a downed tree and a bishop was moving tree limbs as we got into our vehicle to go to the next rescue team.