Gospel Story Finder

As a boy, I learned a great lesson of faith and sacrifice as I worked on my grandfather’s farm during the terrible economic depression of the 1930s. The taxes on the farm were unpaid, and Grandfather, like so many, had no money. There was a drought in the land, and some cows and horses were dying for lack of grass and hay.
One day when we were harvesting what little hay there was in the field, Grandfather told us to take the wagon to the corner of the field where the best hay was, fill the wagon as full as we could, and take it to the tithing yard as payment of his tithing.
I wondered how Grandfather could use the hay to pay tithing when some of the cows that we were depending upon to sustain us might starve. I even questioned if the Lord expected that much sacrifice. Ultimately I marveled at his great faith that somehow the Lord would provide. The legacy of faith he passed on to his posterity was far greater than money, because he established in the minds of his children and grandchildren that he loved the Lord and His holy work more than earthly things. Grandfather never became wealthy, but he died at peace with the Lord and with himself.

My husband’s graduate school had been expensive, so we looked forward to a job that would help us pay off our debts. We were offered several positions but felt best about a professorship in Hawaii. However, when our contract arrived, the salary was lower than we had discussed. We were informed that there was a new policy and negotiation was not an option. We had felt sure about the new job, so we signed the contract anyway.
We loved Hawaii, my husband loved his job, and we were blessed as a family. Things seemed to be going well with our student-debt payments until the credit card company informed us that our new interest rate would be 14 percent instead of our current 3 percent. We argued that we always made our payments on time and that had paid down a lot of the debt already. But the company was adamant.
First, we did some creative financing, transferring our balance to different credit cards with short-term zero percent interest rates. Then we started cutting costs. We drastically reduced our food, clothing, and diapers budget for our seven-person family. We lived on our food storage. Every morning we ate oatmeal; every afternoon we ate homemade bread; and every evening we ate rice and beans. There were no luxuries such as butter, fresh milk, or juice. After we paid tithing and basic expenses, all of our income went to paying off our credit cards.
Six months later, we had paid off 90 percent of our debt! The Lord had multiplied our income in miraculous ways. We were able to quickly pay off the remaining debt, and we are very thankful. My daughter still complains about when she had to eat oatmeal every morning, but I know that by paying our tithing and obeying the prophet, we were blessed financially and temporally.

I came across a Personal Progress goal that motivated me to get started on my family tree. Whenever I went to my grandparents’ for lunch, they told me stories from their lives and from those of my other relatives. I began going to the family history center and gathering information about my family.
I remember when I found information about my great-great-grandmother. While pregnant, she came to Argentina on a ship. During the voyage, she buried her son at sea. She was just a story until I found her name in a record. I became even closer to my grandparents, and I came to know my ancestors as if I had lived with them. I found information about my ancestors, shared the glad tidings of eternal sealing, and helped bless many generations.
I continue to discover hidden treasures thanks to FamilySearch. I love what President Thomas S. Monson said: “I testify that when we do all we can to accomplish the work that is before us, the Lord will make available to us the sacred key needed to unlock the treasure which we so much seek.”1 Through our efforts, we will discover the keys to our eternal treasure, and one day we will be able to meet our ancestors in person.

Many people in the scriptures who went to the desert were humbled. When I moved to the United Arab Emirates, I thought my ward would be the same as my old one. The Church was the same, but my ward was different.
There were many people from other countries. The nearest temple was a long flight away. I’ve been humbled by this ward, from the sisters who stay late to clean the church to the brothers who check up on everyone. So I guess you could say I was humbled in the desert too.
Brooklyn R., 13, Abu Dhabi, UAE

Just like Nephi stated in the opening verse of the book of 1 Nephi, I was also “born of goodly parents.” I grew up in Nagano, Japan, in a home where honesty, diligence, and humility were strongly encouraged and conformity to the old customs was strictly followed. My father was a very religious man. I watched him praying in front of the Shinto and Buddhist altars every morning and every night. Even though I had no idea whom he was praying to and what he was praying for, I believed some sort of unseen power or God would be “mighty to save” or help us if we prayed sincerely.
Like other teenagers, I experienced many hardships. I struggled, thinking that life was unfair and had lots of ups and downs. I felt lost, not having a sense of direction in my life. Life seemed so fleeting because it would end when I died. Life without knowing the plan of salvation was confusing.
Not long after I started to learn English in junior high school, all the students in our school received a copy of the New Testament. Though we had barely begun our study of English, our teacher told us we should study English by reading it. I opened it and reviewed its contents. The words in the New Testament were extremely difficult for me. The words in Japanese were equally difficult. However, I was drawn to a list of statements and questions of the soul that had been included just before the biblical text in this Gideon Bible—questions about feeling lonely, lacking confidence, being confused, facing life’s trials, and so on. Each item on the list was followed by a reference to verses and pages in the New Testament. I was especially drawn to the statement “When you are weary.” The reference led me to open Matthew 11:28–30, in which Jesus said to His disciples:
“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
“Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
“For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
This was the first time I remember reading the words of Jesus Christ. Though I did not understand all the words He said, His words comforted me, lifted my soul, and gave me hope. The more I read His words, the more I felt like I should try the virtue of His words. I had never felt like I felt that day. I felt I was loved. I felt that Jesus Christ was someone I knew.
As I continued studying, I felt as though He were speaking directly to me when He said, “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.”
His words filled my heart, even though I could not describe my feelings well at that time. Although Jesus Christ lived many centuries ago in a land unfamiliar to me, I thought I could trust His words with all my heart. I hoped someday in the future I might learn more about Jesus Christ.
That someday came only a few years later. I met very dedicated, young, full-time missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. And I soon met a small group of kind and joyful Latter-day Saints striving to follow Jesus Christ. Despite it taking me a while to fully trust them, I came to see in the restored gospel what I yearned for when I studied the New Testament—the words of Jesus Christ and the hope and peace that come from them.
A particularly sacred experience was when the missionaries taught me to pray. I learned that we should address God by name. When we pray, we should speak from our hearts, express our gratitude, and share our hopes and desires. Once we have said all that we want to say, we end our prayer by saying, “In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.” We do this because Jesus commanded us to pray in His name. Praying to Heavenly Father helped me know who He is and my relationship with Him—that I was His beloved spirit son. I learned that because Heavenly Father knows and loves me, He would speak to me personally, uniquely, and in ways I would understand through the Holy Ghost.
There was a time when I really could not recognize the Holy Ghost. I misunderstood, thinking that all I had to do was follow the steps of prayer and something dramatic would happen. One day, during a lesson with the missionaries, I stepped out of the lesson to take a break. I was still confused about what I should do with my life if the restored gospel of Jesus Christ really was true.
As I was about to return to the room where the missionaries were waiting, I heard the voice of one of the missionaries. I heard my name. Instead of opening the door, I listened to the voice on the other side of the door. I was stunned. They were simply praying to Heavenly Father. The one saying the prayer was pleading to God that He would hear my prayer. Though his Japanese was not fluent, hearing his sincere prayer softened my heart. I wondered why they cared about me so much. Then I realized that their prayer in my behalf was a reflection of Heavenly Father and the Savior’s love for me. That love gave me hope, and afterward I did ask God in faith and with real intent. When I did, I felt a joyful and peaceful feeling that I was indeed a child of God and that I had a divine potential and destiny. The plan of salvation sank deep into my heart.
President Russell M. Nelson has said, “The way you think about who you … are affects … every decision you will ever make.” It is so true for me. The decision to follow the Savior Jesus Christ by being baptized and receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost blessed my life more than I ever imagined. As we enter into the baptismal covenant with God, we promise that we are willing to take upon ourselves the name of Jesus Christ, keep the commandments of God, and serve Him for the remainder of our lives. Our Heavenly Father, in turn, promises us that we can always have His Spirit to be with us—the continued guidance from the Holy Ghost.
I invite you to have faith in the message Nephi taught us—that the words of Christ and the Holy Ghost will direct you to “all things what [you] should do.” Everything! This is an incredible gift from God.
Brothers and sisters, I am grateful for our Heavenly Father’s plan of salvation. Because He loves us, He prepared the way to return to His presence through His Only Begotten Son, Jesus Christ. Knowing this incredible plan will help us know we are children of God and we can become like Him. I am grateful for this important truth. I bear you my witness that the words of Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost will lead us to receive eternal life. I know these things are true. In the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Now on to the parable of the red cherries.
President Eyring was at his father’s home after the passing of President Eyring’s mother. Friends and family stopped by to pay their respects. Finally the Eyrings had a moment to eat a snack before more visitors arrived. It was getting late, but they still hadn’t turned off the lights when President Eyring’s Aunt Catherine and Uncle Bill stopped by.
President Eyring recalled:
When they’d walked just a few feet past the vestibule, Uncle Bill extended his hand, and I could see that he was holding a bottle of cherries. I can still see the deep red, almost purple, cherries and the shining gold cap on the mason jar. He said, “You might enjoy these. You probably haven’t had dessert.”
We . . . sat around the kitchen table and . . . ate [red cherries] as Uncle Bill and Aunt Catherine cleared some dishes [and offered to call relatives who hadn’t yet been contacted].
. . . I knew that Uncle Bill and Aunt Catherine had felt what I was feeling and had been touched. . . . I can’t remember the taste of the cherries, but I remember that someone knew my heart and cared.

Cameron used another student’s question about his beliefs as an opportunity to gain a sure testimony for himself. In his freshman year someone asked how he could believe that Joseph Smith really saw what he claimed to have seen. Cameron studied the history of the Church and began reading the scriptures every night. He explains what happened a little while later when that student asked him the same question again:

“He said, ‘Don’t you think that’s silly that something like that happened so close to the present time?’ And I said, ‘No, I don’t think it’s silly. I think it’s great.’ Later on, he told me that he ended up having more respect for me and other LDS students because of that.”

Manasseh Byrd Kearl, born in 1870 and raised near the Bear Lake in northern Utah, tells a wonderful story that might be instructional to his descendants, of which I am one. The following is from his journal as he wrote it:
“That fall father bought some cattle for John Dikens, a very large herd. Dikens had a large ranch on Bear River. … I remember Jimmie was down north buying cattle and he sent father that he needed more money. So father toled me to take some money to him. Mother sewed six hundred dollars in my under clothes, and father put me on a horse and said, ‘Now Byrdie my boy, don’t you get off this horse till you find your brother Jimmie, and keep your mouth shut, and if any one asks you questions don’t reply or tell them where you are going, and do not give this money to any one but Jimmie, no matter what any one tells you.’ Well, when I got to DingleDell, I was toled Jimmie was in Montpelier. So to Montpelier I went to Joe Richs, a friend of father’s, he toled me that Jimmie had gone home. Brother Rich wanted me to go in the house and get something to eat. I toled him no, that father toled me not to get off this horse till I found Jim, and here I stayed. I turned around and headed for home. When I got to Bears Valley, … I could hardly walk. Mr. Potter tried to get me to stop and rest, but I could not stay. At last I got home. Jimmie took me off the horse and carried me into the house. Mother cried to think I had been in the saddle while the horse went over eighty miles” (Personal Journal of Manasseh Byrd Kearl).

When you meet Chris Jones, the first thing you’ll notice is how quick he is to smile.
And the second thing—which follows almost immediately—is how quickly he begins to treat you like a good friend.
As Chris’s new friend, you’ll be talking football—because Chris has been a football player since the age of seven—but you can’t help noticing that his conversation is full of references to the gospel. It soon becomes clear that he loves the Lord and the Church with all his heart.
Even though Chris has been home from serving in the Oregon Portland Mission for a couple of years, he still has the sure handshake of a missionary. A mission is something he had been planning for his whole life. And his missionary spirit certainly did not get left in the mission field when he returned.
Chris is from St. Mary’s, Georgia. His parents, Artie and Carolyn Jones, met the missionaries in 1978, when Chris was only two. Chris said, “The first time my dad went to church, he saw a lot of people that he recognized in the community that respected him. That was one thing he really noticed.”
The Jones family was baptized and, as Chris has been told, they received a lot of ridicule for joining the Church. When Chris looks back, he is so appreciative of the fact that his parents were able to raise him and his two brothers and one sister in a way consistent with the principles of the gospel. And Chris grew up knowing that someday he would serve a mission. “If it is part of the Church and the Church is true, then I’ll do it.”
In fact, Chris says his mother helped him keep that in mind. “My mom was the one that pulled us out of bed at 5:15 in the morning to go to seminary for four years. It was a struggle. I hated getting up at 5:15. But it was through a combination of my mother and going to seminary that I gained a testimony of the gospel. Up until then, I always knew the gospel was right. I just didn’t know why it was right.”
As Chris gained a testimony, he found that living the gospel principles helped him learn about prayer. “I can’t recall a prayer that I’ve never received an answer to. Receiving an answer is a matter of allowing the Lord to answer you and give you His answer. A lot of times if you pray with your own answer in mind, you look for that answer. If another answer comes, then you’re not ready to receive it.”
Chris loved playing football in grade school and junior high. He started at linebacker all during high school. And, as Chris points out, football in Georgia is serious business. His high school would have 10,000 fans attend its Friday night games. During his junior year, he began getting attention from college scouts. It was exciting, but his mom would remind him not to get too interested because he was going on a mission.
When the scouts showed up, that was the time Chris had to face the possibilities of playing football at the college level. His high school coach told the scouts that he was a hard-working player and was an honor student. Finally concrete offers started to come—full-ride scholarships through four years of college, worth thousands of dollars.
“I asked,” said Chris, “if they would hold a scholarship for two years. One coach was shocked. I told him I was going to go on a mission for my church. He just stared at me and said, ‘You’re going to give up 80 thousand dollars to serve a mission for two years?’ He got mad at me. But I didn’t get offended.” After that, his coach started turning away college recruiters interested in Chris.
Eventually, State University of West Georgia called. The school offered him a scholarship. It turned out that Chris would be able to play a year and a quarter, essentially two seasons, before turning 19 and receiving a mission call. “I knew that all things were possible with the Lord. There were people saying that I couldn’t serve a mission and play ball, yet the Lord provided a way to do both.”
Chris struggled at West Georgia, not on the field where he started as a true freshman but in the permissive atmosphere in the dorms. He didn’t like what was going on around him. He was more determined than ever to go on a mission. And it was on his mission that Chris put football behind him completely. He told his coaches that if they needed to talk to him, to go through his parents. He didn’t keep up on what the team was doing. He says that the only way to serve on a mission is completely and with total focus.
At the conclusion of his mission, Chris decided that he could not return to the atmosphere at his former college. He thought that was also a decision to give up football, and he was willing to do it.
Just as Chris was completing his mission, his mission president contacted BYU about Chris. At first, becoming a BYU football team member didn’t seem like a possibility, but he was invited to try out. He received a full-ride scholarship but was redshirted a year. Once Chris thought sitting out a year would be horrible, but now it was a blessing. He was able to concentrate on his major, a difficult one, in manufacturing engineering and technology. He feels that the Lord has guided his life because at BYU he has had the opportunity to continue missionary work as a ward mission leader. Football will fall by the wayside. That’s fine with Chris. It no longer has his heart.
There is, however, one thing Chris has always wanted—a championship ring. He just missed taking state in high school. And his college team won the conference the year he left on his mission. Knowing this, some friends on his mission got together and bought Chris a ring—a CTR ring that he wears continually. It’s become his championship ring.
Whenever Chris looks at it he is reminded of what he believes deep inside. “Right makes you happy. If you do what is right, everything will fall into place.”

Here’s a fun way to take notes during conference!
I went to the general women’s session with my mom and my sister Allie. After we sat down, my mom leaned over and said, “I have a great idea. Every time you feel touched by the Spirit, draw a heart in your notebook.” At the end of the meeting, I had drawn 14 hearts! The Spirit touched me that night and my testimony was strengthened!
Katie J., age 9, Utah, USA

One day in 1862 Henry’s father sent his family some money, and Sister Roberts decided to take two of her children, seven-year-old Anne and two-year-old Thomas, with her on a ship to the United States. At the time, all members of the Church were encouraged to gather to Utah. Sister Roberts didn’t have enough money to take the whole family, so she decided to go to Utah and earn enough money to send for her other two children.
She arranged for some distant relatives to take care of twelve-year-old Mary, but they refused to take Henry, who was five. A husband and wife who were new members of the Church seemed to be good people. They didn’t have any children, and they agreed to be temporary guardians for Henry until Sister Roberts could send for him.
The husband was a stonecutter and thought Henry would be helpful in carrying the buckets of sand and water that were used in stonecutting. Because of the heavy buckets carried on his head, Henry’s head sank low between his shoulders. It wasn’t until he was an adult that his head and shoulders were once again in a normal position.
His temporary “father” was often out of work, and sometimes Henry and his guardians wandered from town to town, sleeping under hedges or in haystacks. They worked at odd jobs when they could, and sometimes they begged. Their only belongings were a Bible, a violin, and a bundle of ragged clothes. They spent many nights in inns, where the husband played the violin, and his wife and Henry sang ballads. Henry sometimes stood on a table to sing, then passed his hat around for coins.
His guardians fought with each other a lot, and sometimes they wanted to be rid of Henry. Once they decided to enlist him in the army as a drummer boy. The night before he was to go, Henry heard a calm voice tell him, “If you are enlisted as a drummer boy, you will never see your mother in America.”
He had promised her that he would go to Utah, no matter what happened, so he left the couple’s cold shack and wandered about for several days. He ate what he could find and slept in doorways and empty boxes. Finally he rejoined them.
While Henry was longing for his mother, she was thinking constantly of him and Mary. In Utah she worked long hours, sewing, tailoring, and making hats. After three years she had earned enough to send for her children.
But Henry could not be found! He was nine years old by the time Church leaders in England found him. On April 30, 1866, he and his sister Mary boarded the sailing ship John Bright with about seven hundred other Latter-day Saints.
The voyage was a mixture of terror and fun. Violent storms brewed at sea, lasting as long as three days. Other days were calm and cloudless. On those days the passengers sometimes sang, danced, and played games on the deck. Henry often played marbles with other children when the ship was steady enough for the marbles to stay in the ring. He and Mary ate food they had brought with them, such as bread and pickled fatty bacon that had turned green.
After the ship landed in New York on June 6, Henry and Mary still had a long way to go. They travelled to Nebraska by boat and train, often riding in cattle cars. The bedding and equipment sent by their mother were not waiting for them in Nebraska, so on July 13 they set off in a Church wagon train with only the clothes on their backs.
To make matters worse, Henry lost his wooden clogs when he crossed the Platte River. Not wanting to wait for the rest of the wagon train to reach the river, Henry got up early and left by himself—something he knew he was not supposed to do. When he reached the river about noon, he was tired and fell asleep. When he woke up, he saw the last of the wagons pulling up on the other side of it.
He shouted, and William Henry Chipman, the captain of the company, told him to swim across the river. Taking off his heavy coat and wooden clogs so he could swim, Henry plunged into the water. When the current carried him downstream, Captain Chipman rode his horse into the water. Henry grabbed a stirrup and held on while the horse swam across.
He was safe, but he had to walk across the remaining plains barefoot. His feet became black, hard, and cracked from the journey; blood often oozed from the cracks. Sometimes at night Mary cried in sympathy as she pulled spines of prickly pear cactus from his feet.
Near Fort Laramie, Wyoming, the Saints lost many cattle in an Indian raid and had little food, but a relief train from Salt Lake City kept them from starving.
When Henry and Mary entered Salt Lake City on September 15, 1866, it had been more than four years since they had seen their mother. Henry walked proudly at the head of the train, his clothes in tatters, his hair sticking out in all directions. In honor of the occasion, he was wearing a pair of boots, many sizes too large, that he had discovered in a burned-out pony express station.
His mother was nowhere to be seen. When the company halted for the last time, Henry sat on a crate in a wagon, heartsick, watching the happy reunions between loved ones. At last he saw a woman in a red and white plaid shawl approaching. He went to her and said, “Hey, Mother.”
“Is that you, Henry?” she asked. “Where is Mary?” Mary was hiding inside a wagon, ashamed of her ragged clothing. The family was finally reunited. However, there was sad news. During her journey to Utah, Sister Roberts had watched her baby, Thomas, weaken and die. She had buried him in a donated breadbox coffin along the way.
When Henry arrived in Utah, he couldn’t read or write, but he learned very quickly. Brigham, as Henry was now called, helped to support his family by farming, herding cattle, training horses, prospecting, mining, and blacksmithing. One night he and a friend shot a 550-pound (250-kg) grizzly bear. They sold the hide, and Brigham used his share of the money to help pay for his education at the University of Deseret (now the University of Utah). He finished his two-year course of study in one year, graduating in 1878 at the head of his class.
Brigham, or B. H. as he was often known in later life, went on to achieve great things. He served missions in the United States and Great Britain. He presided over the Southern and Eastern States Missions. He wrote many books, including the six-volume Comprehensive History of the Church. He became famous for his eloquence in preaching the gospel. He served in the First Quorum of the Seventy and was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives. The poor boy sleeping in doorways, yearning for his mother’s love, had grown into one of the most loved and respected men in the Church.

A good friend of mine in Washington D.C. came home months ago as his house was in the process of being burglarized. He made the mistake of struggling with the burglar, who shot him in the spine, severing most of his spinal cord so that he is paralyzed from the waist down for life. He was a very athletic, vigorous, sinewy man whose life was tragically changed and struck down in a moment. As I went to visit him in the hospital shortly after the tragedy, I went, as we often do in the Church, to bring comfort; but I came out comforted. Because of his wrestling with the problem of forgiveness, he was able to tell me, Through his tears, that he had come to forgive his assailent and bore him no malice, nor was there any bitterness. There was only love. Now that can’t happen except in the context of the brotherhood of eternity. When we use those words we ought to specify more often the ways in which we use them and explain their implications, lest the young assume that our jargon means the same thing as the jargon of those outside the kingdom. When we talk about the fatherhood of God, we speak not of a life force that is unreachable, we speak not of a kindly grandfather who would indulge mankind in whatever they wish to do, who cares not and judges not. Ours is a loving Father who will, if necessary, let come to each of us some harsh life experiences, that we might learn that his love for us is so great and so profound that he will let us suffer, as he did his Only Begotten Son in the flesh, that his and our triumph and learning might be complete and full. It is vitally important for the young to understand what that kind of loving fatherhood means as compared with the ideas of those about them.

I saw harmony and love in action recently in Phoenix, Arizona, when I met with government leaders and participated in humanitarian visits. I saw in action the scripture “thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”30

In recent months, tens of thousands of ­asylum seekers—migrants seeking international ­protection—have been relocated in the Phoenix area and elsewhere. These are people with ­nothing—no belongings to speak of. They arrive with no money and no home, and, it appears for them, no choices.

Forty different faith community organizations—including The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—came together to help rescue these people from their dire circumstances. What a privilege it was to work side by side with others who are following the Lord’s admonition to care for the poor and needy. I was touched both by the desire of those who were helping and by the immense gratitude on the faces of those receiving help.

One December when I was a child, my mother became very ill. The medication she was taking made her extremely tired, and she slept about 18 hours a day.
Since my mother was single, my older sister and I tried to keep the household running as best we could, but we were young and inexperienced, and we weren’t very successful. Several days into our mother’s illness, we were looking for something to eat. As we searched through the kitchen, the doorbell rang.
A sister from our ward was on the porch, meal in hand. She hadn’t known of our need, but there she was with dinner. She asked us how long our mother had been ill and how we had been coping for so long on our own. We assured her that we were managing as best we could, but we were grateful for her kindness in sharing a meal with us.
When she left our home, this sister called the Relief Society president and informed her of our family’s situation. The next day and for many days thereafter, members of the ward brought meals to our home. We were so grateful! What we didn’t eat right away we froze, and because of our ward’s kindness, our family had more than enough to eat for the next three months. But the kindness others showed didn’t stop there.
Christmas was approaching, and Mom was slowly getting better, but she was not back to her usual self. My uncle came to our home from Copenhagen, about 40 miles (65 km) away, to help with holiday preparations. He was generous in doing what he could, providing a Christmas tree and some food for our family’s celebration. He also bought a few presents for my sister and me. We, in turn, had purchased a few modest gifts for our mother and uncle. We knew we had much to be grateful for, but as children we were still feeling a bit disappointed with how this Christmas was turning out.
On Christmas Eve, our doorbell rang. I looked out the window but couldn’t see anyone. I concluded that it must be a prank, but my sister told me to open the door anyway. On our porch we found a large basket containing food and other necessities as well as some toys. We were sure it had been delivered to the wrong house. We went to the neighbors’ house to ask if the basket should have gone to their home, but they were gone. Then we noticed that all of the gifts were labeled with our names. There were even items for my uncle. Someone had thought about us.
The anonymous generosity shown my family that year made what had been a dark and sad Christmas the best Christmas of my life. The kindness and love we felt from others continue to touch me today.

The samurai were the military nobility of medieval and early-modern Japan. The Japanese still talk about one of them, Ry?ma Sakamoto, who died in 1867. One of the reasons he is still so popular is because he always kept a positive attitude. He did not fear anyone or anything. He went anywhere he was needed. Inspired by the ideal that all men are created equal, he made every effort to establish a new government. But he was assassinated, and even as he was stabbed many times by another samurai’s sword, he didn’t give up. He tried to stand up and walk forward. This is a very famous story in Japan.

In 2016, when the Brazzaville Republic of Congo Stake launched its first self-reliance classes, many of the Relief Society sisters in the stake signed up to attend. The 12-week course provided the sisters with economic empowerment and paved a path for them to become spiritually self-reliant. “Temporal autonomy and spiritual autonomy go hand in hand,” said Lucia M. Boyembé, one of the participants.
Boyembé, a graduate student and an entrepreneur at heart, already owned a small business when she started the self-reliance course. The class taught her how to build a strong foundation for her business as well as bookkeeping skills. She began keeping separate records of her personal and business accounts and setting aside money in a savings account. “When I started my business of selling feminine products, I offered credit loans to my clients and they wouldn’t pay me back,” explained Boyembé. The self-reliance course taught her to ask God specific questions about her business. “I prayed to God to know what I needed to do, and He revealed to me that I needed to pay my tithing.” Boyembé said that after she began paying her tithing regularly, her clients began to pay back their loans, and her business started to flourish. As a result, Boyembé gained a testimony of the spiritual and temporal importance of the law of tithing.

May I conclude by telling you about a man I knew who grew up with love for the Church. But when he became involved in his business career, obsessed with ambition, he began in effect to deny the faith. The manner of his living became almost a repudiation of his loyalty. Then fortunately, before he had gone too far, he heard the whisperings of the still, small voice. There came a saving sense of remorse. He turned around, and today he stands as the president of a great stake of Zion, while also serving as a senior officer in one of the leading industrial corporations of the nation and of the world.

Muhammad (Arabic, “praised”) was born in 570 C.E. in Mecca, a prosperous city that was a center of caravan trade and religious pilgrimage in the northwest Arabian peninsula. Orphaned in early childhood, he lived a life of poverty as a youth, working as a herdsman for his family and neighbors, an occupation that gave him ample time and solitude to contemplate the deeper questions of life. Muhammad gained a reputation in the community as a trusted arbiter and peacemaker as indicated in the following account:
“At one time the Quraish [Muhammad’s tribe] decided to rebuild the Ka’ba [sacred shrine], to re-set the stones above the foundations. In one of the corners they wanted to put the black stone, but could not decide who should have the honour of placing it there. They would have quarrelled violently if [Muhammad] the young man they all admired and trusted had not come by. They asked [him] … to settle the dispute. He told them to spread a large cloak and place the black stone in the middle. They did so. Then, he asked a man from each of the four clans who were in dispute to take hold of a corner of the cloak. In this way they all shared the honour of carrying the stone.”

“I was with President Harold B. Lee in the hospital at the time of his sudden death. President Marion G. Romney, a counselor in the First Presidency, and President Spencer W. Kimball, of the Quorum of the Twelve, arrived and waited while the doctors did what they could. When it was announced that President Lee had died, President Romney turned to President Kimball and said, ‘President Kimball, what would you like me to do?’ In that moment—simply and without any doubts or questions—the leadership of the Church quietly changed hands in that hospital waiting room. It was a moment I shall never forget.”

When a call went out for the people of the Los Angeles area to join hands in an interfaith demonstration of unity and peace, LDS youth couldn’t help but respond.
Their stake center was located about a block away from where the human chain, 30,000 people strong and seven miles long, was to form. You couldn’t miss seeing the ashes and rubble from the recent civic unrest. There were enough Church members to line several blocks.
The youth made up a good portion of the LDS group. “It’s exciting to be a part of this,” said Kurt Turley, 14, of the Westwood Second Ward, Los Angeles Stake. Kurt was a youth block captain. “It’s a good way to get the message out that we support this community. We all need to cooperate and help it.”