Gospel Story Finder

Fear filled Megan’s heart. As she looked around the crowded, noisy marketplace, tears welled up in her eyes. She was lost! Megan had been lost before, back home in Farmington, Utah, but that was in a small supermarket, where she had found Mom quickly. But now Megan wasn’t in Farmington. She wasn’t even in the United States. Megan was lost in a huge outdoor marketplace in Pusan, Korea.
Megan’s father had come to Korea on a business trip, so Mom and Megan had come along too. Going to another country was exciting. She had loved the long airplane trip and staying in hotels and eating in restaurants.
Since today was Saturday, Dad had the day off and the three of them had gone sight-seeing. Megan had never seen anything like the marketplace before. There were rows and rows and blocks and blocks of sellers. Each seller had his wares laid out on a tarp or on top of a crate for people to inspect and buy. Anything a person could need or want could be found in this huge place.
Megan had enjoyed seeing all the different things for sale. At one vendor’s she had seen beautiful Korean dolls dressed in brightly colored robes and the dolls’ hair combed in the traditional Korean style. There were kites, balls, and other toys. She’d also seen a strange musical instrument called a Kayagum. She loved the music that it made, and she just stood and listened for a long time while someone played it.
But now Megan’s tear-filled eyes searched longingly for her parents. All she saw were hundreds and hundreds of dark-haired Koreans milling around the marketplace, their loud bargaining filling the air. There was a strong smell of fish everywhere, and crates of fresh vegetables and fruit lined the aisles. Some of them Megan recognized; some she didn’t. When Megan saw pigs’ heads stuck on long stakes in the ground, her stomach felt queasy. Next to the pigs’ heads were plucked chickens hanging by their feet from a rope.
Megan’s fear was turning into panic. She couldn’t even ask anyone for help because she didn’t speak Korean. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and her body trembled with fear. She had never felt so alone in her life.
Remember that you are never alone, Megan. Heavenly Father is always near. The words that Mom had said so often came into Megan’s mind.
Megan stopped walking. She wiped the tears from her eyes, folded her arms, bowed her head, and shut her eyes. “Dear Heavenly Father,” she prayed softly, “I am lost and afraid. I don’t know how to ask anyone for help. Please help me to know what to do. Please protect me and help me find Mom and Dad. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
As Megan looked up after her prayer, she felt better. “Stay where you are,” prompted the small voice within her. “Stay where you are.”
Megan didn’t move, but she looked around. She was standing next to some upside-down crates displaying vegetables. A lady was standing behind the crates. As people walked by, the lady called out to them, inviting them to buy her produce.
As Megan stood there, her heart was still beating very fast. She had faith that her prayers would be answered, but it was hard just to stay in one place and wait. She thought about walking around some more, but the small voice again prompted her to stay where she was. Megan obeyed.
As Megan waited and watched for her parents, she started to hum. “A song always helps you feel better,” Grandma had told Megan. Humming did seem to help a little. Then without really thinking, Megan started to softly sing out loud, “‘I am a child of God, And he has sent me here, / Has given me an earthly home With parents kind and dear. / Lead me, guide me, walk beside me, Help me find the way. / Teach me all that I must do To live with him someday.’” *
The song soothed Megan’s fearful heart. She continued singing, a little louder this time: “‘I am a child of God, And so my needs are great; / Help me to understand his words Before it grows too late. …’”
Suddenly Megan felt a gentle touch on her sleeve. She turned and saw a Korean girl just about her size. The young girl’s dark black eyes were sparkling, and she was smiling.
Megan stopped singing and smiled back. Then Megan’s mouth opened in surprise as the little Korean girl sang, “Kil-ul chaja kage cho-rul towa chupsoso (Lead me, guide me, walk beside me).’”
Although Megan didn’t recognize the words, the tune was unmistakable. The Korean girl, still singing, took Megan’s hand and held it tightly.
Together—one in English, one in Korean—the girls sang the last verse of their Primary song. “‘I am a child of God. Rich blessings are in store; / If I but learn to do his will I’ll live with him once more. …’”
As the girls finished the song, they both laughed and started to talk in their own language. Neither understood the other, but both heard with their hearts.
“I’m lost,” said Megan.
“Kil-ul irutni (Have you lost your parents)?” asked the other child.
“My name is Megan,” said Megan, pointing to herself.
“Me-gun,” repeated the other girl with a smile.
Megan nodded and smiled.
The little Korean girl pointed to herself, saying, “Soon Hee.”
“Soon Hee,” repeated Megan. “That’s a pretty name. Soon Hee.”
The girls kept talking in their own language to each other. Soon they were giggling. Then Soon Hee started pulling Megan toward the woman selling vegetables.
Megan realized that the woman must be Soon Hee’s mother. In a flurry of words, Soon Hee spoke to the woman. Megan heard the word Molmon. She thought it might mean Mormon. Then Soon Hee started to sing “I Am a Child of God” again. Megan quickly joined in. When they had finished the song, the woman smiled and patted Megan’s arm, saying gently, “Chin-goo (friend).”
Megan smiled and tried to repeat the words that she had just heard. Although she tried hard, they didn’t come out right, and Soon Hee squealed with laughter. Megan joined in her laughter. It felt wonderful to laugh. Again the girls started chattering to each other, not really knowing what the other said, but understanding the other’s friendship.
Soon Hee’s mother said something to her, and she took Megan by the hand and led her to a blanket spread out on the ground behind the vegetable crates. Both girls sat on the blanket, and Soon Hee’s mother sat next to them, holding a round object that looked almost like an apple. She started to peel the yellow fruit with a knife.
“Bae (pear),” said Soon Hee, pointing to the fruit her mother was peeling in one long peel.
“Bae,” repeated Megan. Suddenly she realized how hungry she was.
After the bae was peeled, Soon Hee’s mother sliced it into sections. The first section was given to Megan. Megan smiled as she took the slice. It tasted sort of like a pear, yet like an apple. It was really delicious.
After the slices of bae were eaten by the two girls, they started chattering again to each other. The fear in Megan’s heart was replaced by a warm, friendly feeling.
As the girls chattered happily, Megan looked up to see her mom and dad making their way through the crowded marketplace. Her heart jumped with excitement. “Mom! Dad! Here I am,” she shouted. She scrambled up and ran toward her parents through the maze of people. Megan saw the look of relief in their eyes when they finally saw her. In the next instant she was in her mom’s loving arms, being hugged tightly.
“Megan. Oh, Megan. We were so worried about you!” Mom said with tears in her eyes.
Megan quickly told her parents what had happened. As she pulled them through the crowd of people, she explained all about Soon Hee, her mother, and their kindness.
When Megan and her parents reached Soon Hee and her mother, Megan’s dad bowed deeply to Soon Hee’s mother saying, “Jamaenim kamsa hamnida (Thank you, sister).”
The woman bowed back.
“Thank you ever so much. I don’t know how to ever thank both of you enough for helping our daughter,” Mom said gratefully while Dad translated the words.
Soon Hee’s mother smiled with a look of understanding.
Megan squeezed Soon Hee’s hand, saying, “Thank you, Soon Hee. You will always be my very special friend.”
As Megan walked between her parents, holding their hands tightly, she felt secure. She knew that her prayer had been heard and answered by a loving Heavenly Father. She knew that she was, indeed, never really alone.
Megan smiled, thinking about Soon Hee. She knew that whenever she sang “I Am a Child of God” in Primary, she would remember her friend in Pusan, Korea, who sang the same song.

The first story is about someone I will call Ethan. He had recently started his job in a career he had longed for, and he wanted to make a good impression. He came early to work and stayed late. He picked up extra projects and did excellent work. He was well liked by many of his colleagues and was enjoying his job. One day at lunch with a couple of co-workers, he felt comfortable telling them he was gay. An awkward silence followed because no one knew how to respond. Ethan was disappointed by his colleagues’ cold response, and he felt hurt and rejected.

After that lunch meeting, things became increasingly awkward for Ethan at work. He began to feel vulnerable and less valued. He found himself excluded from large projects and social activities after work, and his productivity began to suffer because he felt he did not belong and was not wanted. After a few months he was let go because his boss felt he was not keeping up. Despite all the claims to the contrary, Ethan knew he had been fired for being gay.

“You are each to write a poem,” the teacher said. The girls in the third-grade class smiled at each other and quickly started writing. But the boys looked uncomfortable and wondered what they could write, especially Roberto.
The teacher told them that the one who wrote the best poem about mother would have a gold star pasted by his or her name on the blackboard. Roberto half closed his eyes, trying to imagine what it would be like to see his name with a big, shining golden star beside it. But his dream lasted only a moment for he was sure that no poem he wrote would ever be judged as the best one.
Roberto looked at the blank sheet his teacher had given him. He bounced his pencil on its eraser end and then started to make some marks on the paper. I could easily draw a star, he decided, lots of them; but that wouldn’t mean very much, not nearly as much as if a big, gold one were placed beside my name on the blackboard!
Debbie waved her hand. “I’m through,” she announced when the teacher called on her. “May I read my poem now?”
“All the poems will be read at three o’clock this afternoon and you may read yours first,” the teacher promised.
Promptly at three, the teacher called on Debbie who stood up proudly and read:
Mothers buy dresses and shoes and things.
They give us parties and rings.
We wish them a Happy Mother’s Day.
We hope mothers are here to stay.
Bobby was next:
Mothers make clown suits and lemonades
And fix sore toes with keen band-aids;
But there’s one thing she can’t do, and I wish she could—
That’s learn to like bugs, like mothers should.
Eagerly the children read the poems they had written for their mothers, all except Roberto. “I can’t make a poem,” he explained. “The words don’t rhyme.” The children exchanged amused smiles. “But I’ve written what I feel,” he continued, and then Roberto read:
Mothers … mothers make …
Well, mothers make you hurt inside …
When you haven’t got one.
He looked around at the boys and girls, expecting them to laugh because he couldn’t write a poem. They looked back at him. There was no laughter in their eyes.
And everyone in the third grade was glad when their teacher put a big, gold star on the blackboard next to the name of Roberto José Martinez.

We are protected as we follow the living prophet. How have you been protected as a family by following President Hinckley’s counsel to read the Book of Mormon? I recently received a note from a sister in England. She wrote:
“My family has struggled in the last year with a father who has chosen not to attend church any longer. He has been active all his life and has been in bishoprics. My heart has cried to the Lord about what I can do to not feel resentment and bitterness. I have family home evening and prayer on my own with the children. While in the temple I felt prompted, because of the challenge to read the Book of Mormon, to not have scripture time alone with the children but take the children and the scriptures to my husband, wherever he may be in the house. So off we march, every night at 9:00, to find him. He reads with us—not at first, but now he does. He is coming to church, meeting with us in family home evening, and leading gospel discussions. My children were the Lord’s feet and carried the words of redeeming love to my husband. This has been a great blessing to my family.”

The two primary emphases in the Singapore District are reactivation and missionary work. The patience and love devoted to this work is perhaps the reason so many of the long-time members are active. Sometimes, members’ efforts have also resulted in baptisms. Ruby and Vincent Goh of the Singapore Branch are one example.
Ruby was baptized in 1969 with nine others in her family. But she soon slipped into inactivity. She says, “In 1973, I married a nonmember who led an active social life. One night, when I was driving home, a car swerved and hit our car. I was knocked unconscious. My husband died instantly. It took me about a year to recover from the shock. I began to think seriously about coming back to church.”
In 1979, she met Vincent Goh at the bank where both worked, and they were married in 1982. Meanwhile, in 1980, one of Ruby’s sisters arranged for home teachers to visit regularly. Ruby began to attend church occasionally, and Vincent accompanied her a few times. After their marriage, with the encouragement of her nonmember husband and friends in the Church, Ruby became fully active.
In 1985, however, Vincent faced a problem at his employment. “I knew that Church members could go to their leaders for help in resolving difficult problems. Though I wasn’t a member, I visited the branch president and explained the situation. He helped me gain the courage to resolve the issue. The problem was settled to everyone’s satisfaction. About that time, I read in a Family Relations manual about living by the Spirit. I decided I needed to make some changes and was baptized that year.”
Ruby describes her feelings: “At Vincent’s baptism, I felt the Spirit more strongly than I ever have. It seemed as if I were marrying a new man, even though we were already married. And I felt like a new bride. I couldn’t contain my happiness.”

In Caleb’s baby blessing, I assured him he had completed his mortal task by being born and that he would have a brief time to rest as part of our family before returning to his heavenly home.
Yet Caleb and his mother had different plans. They wanted to spend more time together and do a greater work. God had perfectly matched Caleb’s courage with April’s love and daring optimism. April purposefully chose hope and trust in the Lord. With God’s help, she turned what was a sorrowful circumstance into a sacred setting.
April celebrated everything about Caleb. She made him a birthday cake after his first week, cupcakes for his second week, and cookies for his third week. Every day was a once-in-a-lifetime event for our boy sent home from the hospital without hope. Caring for Caleb became a privilege for us.
Though Caleb’s body was misshapen and broken, his spirit was whole, noble, and great (see Abraham 3:22). Even his missing eye became a blessing, making it seem as if he was continually winking. His wink became his distinctive feature. People were drawn to him, especially children. They would often ask, “Where is his eye? What happened to him?” I would jokingly say he was a pirate. But April would explain that in our family, a wink meant “I love you.”
Caleb never spoke the words, but his wink communicated love. His perpetual wink felt like a heavenly message, bringing God’s love and Christ’s light into our lives.
In our family, a wink means “I love you.”

Janelle Miller of Huntington, Indiana, has many responsibilities and has managed to succeed in many ways.
Janelle is an excellent student and is ranked close to the top in her class at school. she is active in her school’s performing choir group both singing and playing the piano. She also teaches piano lessons to her younger brothers and sisters.
In addition, Janelle serves as class president in her early-morning seminary class. Plus she plays on her ward’s softball team and coaches her younger sister’s team.
But what makes Janelle particularly outstanding is the way she cares for her younger brothers and sister when her mother is ill. Her mother has a degenerative disease that often requires hospitalization. During those times Janelle takes over completely caring for the family’s daily needs.

We had just finished dinner at my grandparents’ cabin, and I was outside playing with my five little brothers when my dad walked out and called to me.
Of course when your dad calls you like that, you’re afraid you may be in trouble. So I trudged over and mumbled, “Yeah, Dad?”
Surprisingly, he said, “How would you like to go on a motorcycle ride with me?” I’m sure my eyes must have widened to the size of golf balls as I quickly responded, “Yes, of course I want to go.”
Soon my dad was leading the way as we each drove a motorcycle down a path that winds through the majestic forest surrounding our cabin and then climbs to the top of a hill. As we rode, I was so excited that I could barely keep the throttle on low. Once or twice my dad had to tell me to slow down.
My mind wandered as we rode. I was curious why I had been given this special treat and my brothers hadn’t. When we reached the top of the mountain, Dad said, “This looks like a nice place to stop and rest.” So we parked our motorcycles and sat down on some rocks overlooking the forest. We were both quiet for a moment, enjoying the beauty around us. As I glanced over at my dad, I noticed his thoughtful stare and knew something was coming.
He and I had never really talked a lot. I guess it was just too hard for him to express himself to anyone but my mom. Then he interrupted my thoughts and said, “Kjersten, your mother and I have been talking, and we have decided you are now mature enough to know some of the details concerning our marriage and family.” I could tell by the words he used and by the way he said them that he had been planning this talk for a while.
His voice was soft as he began. “Your mother and I first met at the fire station where I was a student firefighter, and she worked in the office. We began dating, and I realized she was different from the other young women I had dated before. I was a carefree young man who had been brought up in another church. But I hadn’t really paid too much attention to religion.
“I had very few values or goals at that time,” he continued, “and I really didn’t care.” He leaned forward and intently confided in me. “Kjersten, your mother set the most shining example of righteous living I had ever seen.” As he said this, a warm feeling swept over me.
My dad told me details concerning their marriage, my birth, and our family that I had never before heard. He told me the story of his conversion to the Church and how because they were first married civilly, they had to wait a year before they could be sealed in the temple. He also shared with me some of the adventures he and Mom went through in that first year of marriage. For the first time, pieces to a few little puzzles fell into place. I finally understood why my parents’ marriage and sealing dates are different and why they say that the first year of their marriage was the hardest they ever had.
As he related these things to me, his eyes would sometimes flicker with sadness and other times crinkle with laughter. I don’t remember exactly how much I understood back then, but I distinctly remember the feelings of surprise, confusion, and love that alternately came over me.
This experience really made an impact on me. I realized what a miracle families are, and it gave me a greater understanding of God’s plan. I also gained a greater faith in the gospel and an appreciation for the effects it can have on people’s lives. We discussed many things on that mountain, but there is one thing I will not forget. I have never felt so much gratitude and thankfulness in my heart as I did when my father told me of his strong love for God, the gospel, my mother, and our family. I realized the numerous ways the gospel had touched his life, as well as mine.
My father and I became very close that day. For the first time, I saw him as a real person with feelings and emotions and not just some ruling body who had to give me permission to have fun. I also think my dad learned more about me too. I will never forget that special talk with my dad and the feelings of love and understanding we shared.

“It all began when I said hi to Shawn in the hall one day. If you say hi once to him he’s your friend. He started writing notes to me—friendly, chatty ones. Then in the spring when I ran for student-body president, he was my greatest support.”
This is how the friendship began between a shy, mentally-handicapped boy and one of the most popular girls in the school.
After Mary Kay Harrop was elected student-body president of Lehi High School in Lehi, Utah, in the spring of 1989, her friendship with Shawn Broadhead continued into the next year. And he kept writing her notes. But when the time for senior prom rolled around, Mary Kay was totally clueless when Shawn’s notes became hints asking her to be his date.
“The prom was not on my mind,” Mary Kay says. A boy she had been dating had just left for a mission. Also she was extremely busy with her many tasks as student-body president.
One week before the prom, Shawn’s father, Kent Broadhead, had business at the school and decided to talk with Mary Kay. “I wanted to give her a way out without hurting anybody’s feelings. We were assuming she wouldn’t go,” he said. “I explained that Shawn had been trying to ask her to the dance and he wanted to have his picture taken with her.” Mary Kay’s response was an unexpected but pleasant surprise. “Shawn’s a great friend. I would love to go with him,” she said.
“She never hesitated for a moment to accept,” recalls Shawn’s father.
Shawn’s mother, Ladonna Broadhead, describes Shawn’s reaction: “When Mary Kay called and told him she would accept his invitation, there wasn’t a wall that could contain him. He called all of his friends and wrote to his brothers who were on missions. He was so excited.”
The day after Mary Kay accepted Shawn’s invitation, she tuned in to the Saturday morning session of April general conference. Elder Boyd K. Packer was speaking about our responsibility to the handicapped members of the Church. “When Elder Packer said we ‘manifest the works of God’ in our actions toward the handicapped, it hit me. I knew I was supposed to hear this talk,” she says. “I realized that I was not just going to the prom to please Shawn—to do him a favor. He was doing me the favor. I was the honored one!”
Early the next week, Mary Kay was sharing her feelings with some of her friends at work. One of them made the suggestion to invite all of the special education kids to the dance. And from there, the next few days were a whirlwind. Mary Kay went to Russell Felt, the principal of Lehi High, and he gave his permission. With the help of the special ed teacher, Dalene Callins, all the parents of the students were notified. Then Mary Kay and her mother, Alice Ann Harrop, arranged to have a turkey dinner for Shawn and nine of his classmates before the dance. “Mom did the whole meal, and my two younger sisters helped set up the tables and serve. They all really came through for us,” says Mary Kay.
Rides were arranged for everyone to the hotel where the prom was being held. Mary Kay continues, “When we got there, they were all bubbling over with excitement. The sophomore class president, Jon Bailey, took turns dancing with the girls from special ed and I danced with the boys so no one would feel left out. They were such a fun, enthusiastic group. The whole student-body responded to them. One boy in a wheelchair was pulled all over the dance floor. He had the time of his life!”
Of course, Mary Kay did not forget that Shawn was her official date for the evening. “Shawn was great,” she says. “He bought me the most beautiful corsage I’ve ever had, and he rented a tuxedo—all with money earned from a part-time job. And we did get our picture taken together.”
Mary Kay says this activity awakened an awareness in the students at Lehi High. “The special ed students have the right to be involved, and we should make more of an effort to include them,” she says.
This year, Mary Kay has been attending Ricks College, while Shawn has been completing his senior year in special ed at Lehi High. His father comments, “It’s a good school. I have such an appreciation for all the kids who befriend young people like Shawn. The special ed students don’t know they’re any different because they’re treated like they’re normal. It means so much to all of us parents who have children like Shawn.”
“This experience did more for me than it did for the kids involved,” claims Mary Kay. “I needed it to happen. It made the whole school year worthwhile.”
So, does that mean she would do it all over again, if she could? “Absolutely! Only I’d do it sooner,” she says.

When Stein Arthur Andersen was about 15 years old, he wasn’t active in the Church. Neither was his family. They had moved several times to different areas of Norway. This time they were living in Stavanger. It’s the fourth-largest city in the country and is located on the southwest coast. Stein had been to church in Stavanger a few times and had met some of the other Latter-day Saint youth in the area. One young man in particular left Stein with a pretty strong impression—his name was Tor Lasse Bjerga.
It was during one of those infrequent visits to church that Stein met Tor Lasse. “He was a couple of years older than I was, and he really impressed me,” says Stein. “I felt a good spirit when I was around him, and I thought he was a cool guy.” Had Stein not been impressed with Tor Lasse, he may not have been willing to listen to him when Tor Lasse made the trip out to Stein’s home with a special invitation.
That invitation came in the mid-1970s, when the seminary program was introduced to Norway, and Tor Lasse had been called as the first seminary teacher. Since he was only 18 years old at the time, Tor Lasse was a little nervous taking on such a big responsibility. “I prayed about it quite a bit,” he remembers. One thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to reach out to the youth in his area who were less-active. Tor Lasse says, “I could feel right away that I should go visit Stein Arthur.”
“I was probably one of the names on a list,” says Stein. But to Tor Lasse, Stein was much more than just a name on a list. Tor Lasse remembers being impressed with Stein’s intelligence and his quiet and determined character. So Tor Lasse decided to make a personal visit to invite Stein to take part in the new seminary program.
Tor Lasse telephoned ahead and talked with Stein’s parents to make sure he would be home for the visit. To get to Stein’s home, Tor Lasse had to take a bus ride of about 35 minutes to get to a ferry. Then he took a 45-minute ferry ride. Finally, he had to walk another 30 minutes. “I think about this all the time,” says Stein. “What Tor Lasse did was really going the extra mile.”
Both men still remember well the spirit they felt during that meeting nearly 35 years ago. As they sat in the dining room, Stein’s mind was going over all the things he was involved with. “I was very occupied with football and Scouting and playing my trumpet, and I was doing all kinds of things. I was very busy.”
“Tor Lasse turned to me as he talked about seminary, and he said, ‘Stein Arthur, would you sign up for the seminary program and start studying the scriptures with us?’ I was sitting by the fireplace, and I said yes. By all logical thinking, I should have turned him down because I didn’t have time. But I said yes. And that started the whole thing.”
The “whole thing” included getting up every morning to study the scriptures and his seminary lessons on his own at home. Then the small group of four or five students would meet together each week. “Gradually I started to feel the Spirit those early mornings, reading by myself, and I got up every morning,” Stein says. “After a while I felt like the day wouldn’t be what it could be if I didn’t study in the morning. And I started to gain a testimony without even knowing that I was.”
Stein explains that “after a while I understood what those feelings were. I felt good about what I was learning, and I felt the Spirit. I felt that this was right. And I knew that this was something I wanted to build my life on.”
But why did Stein say yes when he had felt so busy? “I think the Holy Ghost’s influence worked on me,” he says. “I must have been prepared somehow. So when Tor Lasse came in faith, he came the extra mile, and I was ready to receive his invitation. That’s the way the Lord works.”
About a year or so later, Tor Lasse decided to go on a mission and was called to serve in Norway. During that time Stein continued to strengthen his own testimony of the gospel. “When Tor came back from his mission, that really started me thinking about a mission too,” says Stein. “I came to the conclusion that I should go because I wanted to serve the Lord, and I thought if I didn’t go, I might regret it for the rest of my life.”
Stein remembers that after talking with his priesthood leaders about going on a mission, he felt as if his feet were hardly touching the ground as he walked home. Before he left on his mission (also to Norway), Stein met his future wife, Hilde, at a youth conference in Oslo. They wrote to each other during his mission, and after he returned home, they were married. Now they have four children: two sons, who have both married in the temple, and two younger daughters, who are still at home and are active in seminary.
“That night when Tor Lasse came to our house—that basically changed my whole life,” says Stein. That visit started him down the path where he met his wife, served a mission, and started a family, all with his feet planted firmly on gospel soil. “I have been branch president, district president, bishop—all because Tor Lasse came to our house and I started the seminary program.” All because Tor Lasse was willing to walk the extra mile.

They didn’t forget about it in a week. They didn’t forget about it in a month.
“Mom, can I take the car tonight?” Anne asked. “Debbie and I want to see Superman.”
“Again?” Mother asked. “How many times have you seen it?”
“Only three,” Anne said. “Star Wars still holds the record.”
“I hardly dare ask how often.”
“Six times.”
“You may take the car,” said Mother.
“Thanks!” Anne said.
“As soon,” Mother added, “as you settle up your car leasing bill.”
Anne looked horrified. “You didn’t say anything about it.”
“Why should I have? It’s your bill, not mine.”
“But I’ve spent almost all my money.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe Debbie can drive.”
They went over the accounts. “Your total bill is now $38.56,” Mother said.
Anne gulped. “But, Mom, that’s more than a new top.”
“And just think,” Mother said with a smile, “we’re only charging you half what it costs us!”
Anne went to her bedroom and got the money and paid Mother. “Take it,” Anne said. “Take it all. I don’t like money anyway. I hate money. I never want to see money again. Money is filthy and disgusting. Take all of it.”
“Aren’t you going to the movie?” Mother asked.
“I have 42¢ left. That wouldn’t pay for the gas to get the car out of the driveway. Let alone the movie.”
“I’m sorry, dear,” said Mother. “Perhaps if you walked to Debbie’s house more often—it isn’t even a mile.”
“What am I supposed to be, a pioneer?”
“But haven’t you heard, dear?” asked Mother. “The sidewalks are paved all the way there.”
“Would you really thrust your own youngest daughter out in the snow and the sleet—”
“This is California, dear. If it starts snowing, I’ll let you take the car for half price.”

As difficult as it may be, I would like to pay tribute today to a very noble soul who found the joy in living a life of service.
Our first meeting occurred 30 years ago. I was a newly appointed secretary to the stake MIA. She was a board member from one of the wards. My job was to call the roll at our stake leadership meeting. In those days when we had a standing roll call, I remember a particular evening when I was calling out the various wards. I had no difficulty in making an accurate count of the young men in attendance; then I started on the young women’s roll. Suddenly my eyes met a charming, beautiful young woman. I completely lost my ability to count. I confess to the Church Historian today that those records that are in the archives of the Church are not accurate for that particular meeting.
Eight months later I was kneeling at an altar in the house of the Lord, holding her hand, and hearing the most glorious words ever to be uttered on earth, “For time and all eternity.” I realized that I was receiving the greatest gift of God. I was being sealed in marriage by one having the authority to act for the Lord in uniting myself and my lovely companion together for time and all eternity, if I would but live worthy of her. We had only been married a few days before I found out I had married a woman with great empathy in her heart for her fellowmen. All of those wonderful aromas which came from the air around her kitchen were not all intended for me, for when she would find someone in need, she could not rest until she had made an effort to supply a relief.
I frequently found myself returning home from a busy day’s work, still under great pressures to complete an assignment before the following morning, only to find I had been committed to an act of compassionate service that night. As we would drive to our place of service, I would be mumbling under my breath, “Why me tonight? How will I ever get that job done before morning?” Then we would arrive at the place of service, and I would see the light in her eyes as she would perform her acts of mercy. I would see children dance with joy and parents weep with gratitude for her concern. On the way home I was mumbling a different tune. I was thanking the Lord for the privilege of being there that particular night.
She understood her role in the family organization. She was anxious to fill that which God had intended for her and had confidence and trust that I would fulfill the one designed for me. My responsibility was to be the provider and protector and builder of the home. Hers was to put beauty and love within its walls. When I married her, she was already an expert in her field. I still needed training in mine. During those early years, I am certain, she could have returned a much larger paycheck to the family than I was able to provide. However, when I came home one evening and announced that I had qualified for graduation from college, without even making it a matter of discussion, she marched in to her boss the following morning and resigned. Homemaking, to her, was the greatest of all occupations. Being a mother was the noblest of all calls. Her love and attention and concern for her children were so evident in our homes.
As a family we soon learned to live with the unexpected when an act of charity was involved. We had moved to California several years ago, and while we were preparing our finances to buy a home, we rented one which furnished us with appliances we needed. We had to store ours in our garage waiting for the purchase of a home. One evening in sacrament meeting she heard an earnest appeal from the bishop of our ward to assist those who had lost so much in a devastating flood a few miles from where we lived. As I drove home from work a few nights later, I saw a trailer in my driveway. There was a man tying my appliances on his trailer. I rushed into the house to see what was going on. And I was greeted with the words, “Oh, didn’t I tell you? After sacrament meeting last week, I informed the bishop if anyone needed our appliances for flood relief, they could have them.”
I always knew that if my wife found a stranger in our city at church on Sunday, I could find them in our extra bedroom when I returned home from my Church assignment that evening. A student looking for a room, a father being transferred to a new city, looking for a place for his family, a family returning from an overseas assignment, etc., were always welcome to stay with us until they could find a permanent place of residence.
Even through these multitude acts of kindness, her finest hours were yet to come. Five years ago our lives were shocked with an announcement that she had contracted a terminal disease. Her life expectancy could only be another six months to a year. She accepted this decision with a faith and courage I never expect to see equalled. As the doctor made this announcement to us, she turned to me and said with all the faith and peace that she could muster, “Don’t tell anyone about this. I don’t want it to change our way of life or have anyone treat us differently.” Now her life was filled with physical hardship. It seemed to only make her more sensitive for the physical needs of others. Her empathy for her fellowmen increased, for now she had a greater appreciation for need.
Three serious operations followed in very short order. There were only a few who knew about them and they were sworn to secrecy. Her pattern of life in the hospital was always the same. With her careful planning, she would attend church on Sunday, the operation would be performed early Monday morning. By Tuesday, she was trying to get out of bed. By Wednesday she would be up moving around, trying to regain her physical strength. Thursday would find her helping the nurses assist others who were in the hospital. Friday she would spend trying to convince the doctor that she was ready to go home. By Saturday morning the doctor would give up in despair and discharge her. Sunday she would be back in church looking radiant. No one would ever suspect that she had just gone through major surgery. After the meeting I would rush down to take her home to get her some needed rest. And as I would come close to her I would hear her say to someone else in need, “Now don’t worry about a thing. I’ll have dinner ready for you and at your home on Thursday night.”
She placed her illness entirely in the hands of the Lord, and he blessed her with enough strength to endure and just enough energy to live the kind of life she wanted to live. After a difficult night, I would plead with her to remain in bed. Her answer was always the same: “No, I am not going to start that.”
The Lord blessed her with four additional years that medical science could not promise her. How grateful we are for those years, for it was during this period that she was able to stand by my side as we were honored in these present positions. She was able to see, at least in some degree, what she had tried to make of me.
The Lord made it as convenient as possible in his timing to call her home. He waited until I had completed my traveling schedule for the year. And on the first Saturday I had been home in many months, he called her to leave mortality.
Her last acts were so typical of her. She was up preparing breakfast for her family. I heard her drop a dish and give a little moan. As I rushed from my study, thinking she had injured herself, I found that she was suffering from a stroke that was causing her to lose the use of her right arm. I quickly picked her up and carried her in to a little couch I had just recently convinced her that she should have near her kitchen so she could rest during the day.
There was terror in her eyes as the paralysis started to spread down her side. I told her I was going to rush a call to the doctor. She said, “First, give me a blessing.” As I laid my hands on her head that morning, the Lord in his great mercy let me know that her time had come. As I left the room to call the doctor after that blessing, she was literally fighting to move her right arm and her right leg. And the last words I heard her utter were, “I will not live as a half a person.”
Her next two hours, her last in mortality, were the only two I know of in her life that she was not carrying her full load and a little extra for someone else. The Lord in his mercy has let her pass through the veil and relieved her from her anxiety and pain. Now she is whole again, and I am certain paradise is a much more joyful place because she is there.
For the hundreds of messages of sympathy we have received, we express our appreciation. If we had taken time to classify them, I think we would have found that we could have sorted them in two piles that typified and characterized her in her life here on earth. The first pile that we would have sorted—as we heard from the eastern part of the United States—would be something like this: “She gave us our first Book of Mormon and was an inspiration to us. How grateful we are to have known her. We will always remember her gracious hospitality to our family on the day of our baptism. It was such a happy occasion to have dinner in your home on that particular day.”
She was deeply grateful for her membership in the church of Jesus Christ. It was the foundation on which her life had been built. It was her sustaining power, her hope for the eternities. She was anxious to share her witness of the mission of our Lord and Savior with others. A fundamental part of her storage program, which included, of course, the basics of wheat, canned goods, and other inventories, was a supply of a dozen copies of the Book of Mormon. She would count those just as religiously as she would count her other supplies and replenish them in the same order. She used to comment about her inventories: “When we use the food, the inventory is gone. When I make a gift of the Book of Mormon, I never stop receiving the benefit and enjoyment of that gift.”
The second group of letters would read in part this way: “Your wife and mother was my stake leader in Spiritual Living. For one year I met with her for forty-five minutes each month and she had a profound influence on my life. She will always be one of the truly unforgettable people I have known. To me she exemplified spiritual living. She understood the needs of others and sought diligently to supply those needs.”
The Lord has said to us, “Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die, and more especially for those that have not hope of a glorious resurrection.
“And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them.” (D&C 42:45–46.)
I understand this scripture now as never before. Even though there is great loneliness without her, her passing was sweet because of the way she had lived.
In tribute to her today, I recommend to you her way of life. I watched service consume pain. I witnessed faith destroy discouragement. I have seen courage magnify her beyond her natural abilities. I have observed love change the course of lives.
May God grant that her memory will bring satisfaction and fulfillment to your life, I humbly pray in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

When Dale was 11, his father, a skilled carpenter and builder, was called to serve as a building missionary in Sweden for three years. The family spent time in Helsinki, Finland, and Gothenburg, Sweden. They attended a small branch of the Church, and the children attended Swedish public schools. Dale’s sister Anita M. Renlund, who is one year younger than her brother, recalls one of the difficulties in the transition: “This was initially a shock to us because, even though we spoke Swedish at home, we did not know the grammar or spelling of the language.” As a boy Dale had a testimony-strengthening experience after reading the Book of Mormon. The mission president in Sweden had invited the young men of the Aaronic Priesthood to read the Book of Mormon, so Dale’s older brother, Gary, who was 12 at the time, accepted the challenge. Eleven-year-old Dale also took the challenge. After reading the Book of Mormon, he prayed and asked if it was true. Elder Renlund recalls, “I had a distinct impression: ‘I’ve been telling you all along that it’s true.’ And that was an amazing experience.” Dale and his siblings—Gary, Anita, and Linda—remember that when the family moved back to the United States, they continued to speak and pray in Swedish. They also recall their parents’ remarkable emphasis on scripture knowledge. They said, “The best way to make a point with our parents was by using scriptures.” Anita jokes, “Knowing the scriptures in our family was a survival skill; it was not optional.” Remarkably, both Gary and Dale were called to serve in the Swedish Mission at the same time. They were never companions, but both were able to use their Swedish-speaking skills to serve the Lord as missionaries for over two years. Elder Renlund describes his mission as a lot of work but a wonderful experience: “It was life-changing in terms of commitment and deciding to do the best one can to be a disciple of Christ.”

My grandparents gave each of their grandchildren $1 and asked us to find a way to serve someone else with it for Christmas. My mom told us that a member of our ward collected gift cards to give to needy families for Christmas. I thought that would be a great idea, but I knew that $1 wouldn’t go very far. I decided to do some extra jobs to earn money for a gift card. I cleaned windows, dusted, emptied garbage, fed dogs, pulled weeds, and vacuumed for some ward members and neighbors. I was able to buy a gift card for a family to use at a grocery store. I knew that I had made a good choice. I know that it’s important to serve and give, especially at Christmastime.

On another occasion, near the Christmas season, I had the opportunity to meet in the Church Office Building with a group of handicapped children. There were about sixty in the group. My heart literally melted as I met with them. They sang for me “I Am a Child of God,” “Rudolph, the Red-nosed Reindeer,” and “As I Have Loved You, Love One Another.” There was such an angelic expression on their faces and such a simple trust expressed in their comments that I felt I was on sacred ground. They presented to me a beautiful booklet where each one had prepared a special page illustrating those blessings for which he or she was most thankful at Christmastime. I commend the many teachers and families who work behind the scenes in bringing a measure of comfort, purpose, and joy to these special children. They brightened my entire day.

My brother Bryce and I have been best friends since we were little. I remember afternoons when we’d compete to see who could catch the most bees in a clear plastic cup or he’d “catch” ants on a piece of licorice.
When we were a little older, we read poetry and went for ice cream together, and everyone told us how lucky we were to have each other. Eventually I graduated from high school and went to college 750 miles away. Two years later he followed me. That year together at school was one of the best of my life. It was great to have him close again. But we both knew change was inevitable.
As Bryce’s 19th birthday got closer, we would talk for hours about how excited we both were for him to serve. We couldn’t wait to see where the Lord would ask him to go. The day finally came, and our family gathered as he read us the letter calling him to North Carolina. He’d report to the missionary training center in less than two months.
Suddenly, the reality that Bryce would be leaving hit me with more force than I’d ever imagined it would. That night I poured out my heart, begging Heavenly Father to send me peace. I would miss Bryce so much. It wasn’t that I didn’t think a mission was the right choice. We’d both known it was since we were little. I just needed comfort so I could support my brother as he prepared to enter the mission field.
One night, just a few weeks before Bryce would enter the missionary training center, the Spirit was especially strong as I prayed. I cried, telling Heavenly Father all the things Bryce might miss. Then a thought entered my heart: “Shelli, this is just mortality.” I opened my tearful eyes and looked up, wondering at its simplicity. I smiled, realizing that we were a family and that the blessings of our parents’ temple sealing could hold us together forever. Yes, Bryce was going to miss a lot, but we’d have an eternity to catch up.
The day we took Bryce to the missionary training center was one of the best days of my life. I’d been with him while he shopped for suits and journals, but nothing prepared me for what I saw that day. He was really a missionary. As I hugged him good-bye, I said a silent prayer of gratitude to Heavenly Father for this wonderful young man and all the years of friendship we’d shared. Those years had truly been a gift. And now, the next two years would be a gift to Him.

Let’s start at the beginning.
“I’ve been helping my dad build things my whole life,” she says. “I got used to power tools and construction, and I just really grew to love it. So, when I was 16 years old, I decided that I wanted to start my own construction business.”
“My dad has taught me to put things together, from two boards to a whole house,” Sarah says.
Sarah first remodeled a house one year over the summer. She loved it so much that she took on another remodeling project the next year. Eventually, she decided to tackle an even bigger project—a “spec” house, or a house that she and her team of subcontractors would build from foundation to finish, hopefully to sell at a profit.
Demolition day! Sarah takes a hammer to a bathroom in one of her projects.
Starting a business was no easy project, especially because Sarah was still busy with high school and cross country running.
Sarah started her own construction company when she was 16 years old.
“I learned so much,” she says. “I had to use a checkbook to pay people, which I’d never done before. I had to become comfortable talking to strangers who were my subcontractors. I’ve also learned how to deal with the stress of running a company, which was not always fun. There’s always the worry that you won’t make the money needed to break even when selling a house.”
But despite the worries and stresses that come with running a business, Sarah never had to face her big dreams alone.
“It always worked out, and I know that’s because of the Lord,” she says. “This business thing wasn’t possible without Him. He helped me through the bad days, the hard work, everything.”

Before filming at the Mount of Beatitudes, the choir boarded two boats at Tiberias and crossed the Sea of Galilee. About halfway across the sea, which can give rise to sudden storms as it did the night Christ calmed the waters, the boats stopped, a prayer was offered, and the choir and others sang “Master, the Tempest Is Raging.”
“I really felt the Spirit when we stopped out on the Sea of Galilee,” says one choir member. “I’ve really never felt it that strongly before.”

The Prophet Joseph faithfully kept this first journal every day for nine days, then stopped for almost 10 months. He resumed in October 1833, when he left home on a proselytizing mission to Upper Canada. The entries during this mission are a rich source of insight into his sincerity and the spiritual and emotional dimensions of his personality. For example, Joseph recorded for October 12: “I feel very well in my mind. The Lord is with us, but [I] have much anxiety about my family.” Later that day he received a revelation assuring Sidney Rigdon and him of their families’ well-being (see D&C 100:1). On his return to Kirtland, Ohio, on November 4, 1833, Joseph dictated a journal entry to Oliver Cowdery, the second elder of the Church: “Found my family all well according to the promise of the Lord, for which blessings I feel to thank his holy name.”

As we read, understand, and follow the handbooks, they become a blessing to those we serve.9 A policy change outlined in Handbook 2, for example, helped a bishop bless and strengthen one father who thought he would be unable to ordain his 12-year-old son to the Aaronic Priesthood.
Chapter 20 states, “Bishops and stake presidents have discretion to allow priesthood holders who are not fully temple worthy to perform or participate in some ordinances and blessings,” including baptisms and Aaronic Priesthood ordinations.10 Without a temple recommend, this father thought he would be unable to ordain his son. But his bishop, “as guided by the Spirit,”11 granted permission following an interview.
“That experience became a turning point in his life,” his current bishop noted. “It was part of the process of his becoming temple worthy, of being sealed with his wife in the temple, and of having their children sealed to them.”