Gospel Story Finder

I have been putting off this letter for almost a year now, and I feel it is time for me to finally write and tell you the feelings I have for the Church and the New Era. I first met a member of the Church a year ago. Before then I had never heard of the Church. In his own silent way, mostly through his example, this brother brought me to a better understanding of myself. It was all too soon (about two weeks after we met) that I left him and Cape Town to go on a holiday.
I asked my friend to give me something to read on my two-day train ride. He arrived at the station with a whole folder of New Eras, pamphlets, and a copy of the Book of Mormon. For two days on the train I read the New Era. I read every one (there were about 12) from cover to cover, and then read the pamphlets. Something very exciting was being opened up to me, and I could feel it. I spent that whole three-week holiday in constant prayer and reading. Let’s not forget the crying and laughing either. Before the holiday was over, I knew without a doubt that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true church of God.
Unfortunately, my parents aren’t as enthusiastic as I am, so I still have to wait six months to be baptized. But I couldn’t be happier than I am, just having the knowledge that I do. It is so refreshing and filling.
I think the New Era is the greatest magazine ever published. I find it the most comforting and most spiritually moving work of art in the world today. Thank you, New Era, for giving me the beginning of the most precious eternal gift of truth, and also for filling my life with such precious, beautiful words I could ask for nothing more. I am studying at a university where I am the only Latter-day Saint, and I can truly say, New Era, you are my best friend.
Annie GroblerCape TownRepublic of South Africa

I never met my great-grandmother Hettie, but I have always felt a connection to her for many reasons. She was described to be similar to me in appearance, with her very pale skin and dark hair; she was from England (which I believe is where my love of all things British stems from); and she was known especially for her astounding faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I was casually studying her life a short time ago when I remembered a story I’d heard about how she had helped her husband, my great-grandpa, miraculously recover from an illness that had brought him to his deathbed.
As I researched further, I found a journal entry from my grandpa (Hettie’s son), and I found out that this illness wasn’t just any sickness—my great-grandpa had contracted the deadly Spanish flu during the pandemic that lasted from 1918 to 1920.
I was shocked.
The journal entry explained that my great-grandfather had come home from work feeling sick. A doctor came, diagnosed him with the dreaded Spanish flu, and put up a red quarantine sign in the yard to make sure no one visited their home.
The Spanish flu was highly contagious, just like another virus I know.
My grandpa described how most of the homes in their city had these quarantine signs in their yards and explained how terrifying the whole ordeal was for those two years.
It’s not often I can fully relate to my ancestors, but when I read this, I felt tears prickling my eyes.
It was no coincidence that I was reading this story at this time.
In the journal, my grandpa went on to explain how the doctor visited their home again about five days later, when his father had grown so sick that he was unresponsive. After seeing how quickly people were dying from this terrible disease, the doctor concluded that there was nothing more he could do for my great-grandfather and told Hettie that all she could do was keep him comfortable until he passed away.
My grandpa wrote that Hettie cried quietly for a few moments after the doctor left, but then suddenly looked up with a determined look on her face. She told my grandpa and his brothers to kneel and pray for help. She explained to Heavenly Father that she knew He had the power to help her save her husband if it was His will, and that she would do whatever she could to save him. She pleaded with Him to let him live.
After the prayer, my grandpa explained that Hettie was inspired to create a thick paste out of mustard and hot water and to spread it over thick strips of fabric. She then wrapped them all around her husband’s chest in one last effort to clear his lungs. She covered him with blankets and stayed up all night, holding his hand, squeezing it every now and again to see if he would respond.
At around four o’clock in the morning, she finally got a good, strong squeeze of response from him, and eventually he opened his eyes. That night he was able to hold full conversations. Because of the Lord and because of Hettie’s faith in Him, my great-grandfather was going to live.
It was a true miracle.

Anne and Kara were both new in their ward when Anne was assigned to minister to Kara and her young family. A friendship quickly developed between the two of them. Anne, a newlywed, enjoyed helping Kara with her four young daughters, who ranged in age from newborn to seven years old. One day, Kara’s baby sustained a skull fracture that required surgery.
Anne jumped in and watched the other children until their grandmother could arrive to take care of them. Once their grandmother arrived, Anne checked with her to see what help she might need, then brought dinner to the family that night. She also arranged for neighbors to bring meals for a few days.
The next day when she checked in on Kara’s family, Anne noticed that one of Kara’s daughters was worried about her baby sister, so Anne invited her to come make cookies to give her some personal attention. Anne also texted the ward council to let them know what had happened and told them she would keep them updated about the situation. During the next week, while the baby received treatment, Anne kept the ward council up to date and saw to the family’s needs. Anne’s help allowed Kara time and peace of mind as a parent in a difficult, scary situation.

In the performance of home teaching the teacher has a special opportunity to bless the lives of others and lead them to eternal life. An acquaintance of mine told me of an experience that will help to illustrate this point. “Recently,” he said, “a man and his teacher-age son were assigned to our family as home teachers. We knew of the father’s dedication to the gospel but did not know what to expect from his son, although the young man’s appearance and conduct seemed to reflect the same dedication. During their first visit with us, I kept my eye on this young man. Though reasonably quiet, everything that he did or said brought dignity to the priesthood he bore. Soon they learned that our young son had passed away a year ago and that we were expecting another child. From that moment on they were a special part of our lives as they prayed for and encouraged us. At the conclusion of that first visit I asked the young man to offer a prayer. In his prayer he asked the Lord to sustain us in the loss of our son and to bless the child that soon would be born. He specifically prayed that my wife would have no difficulty in delivering the baby. My wife and I were overcome by the sincerity and sensitivity of this young teacher. During the days and weeks that followed these brethren inquired about us regularly (more often than once a month). Following the birth of the baby, the young man, with his father, brought a gift. As we all knelt in prayer the teacher expressed his gratitude to the Lord for the safe delivery of the child.” Here is a young man who understands the importance of the assignment given him by the Lord. Other examples could be given. Home teaching is just one way in which we can use the priesthood to bless the lives of others.

“And the winner of our school reading contest is Joshua Hawkins!”
Marcus watched his friend Josh high-five his way to the podium. The principal, Mrs. Houston, shook his hand and gave him a certificate. Marcus knew Josh deserved to win. He could read a book in one afternoon that would take Marcus two weeks to finish.
Next, Trina got an award for winning the science fair. Then Mrs. Houston gave out awards for straight As and for the highest scores on the state achievement tests. Marcus kept listening, but Mrs. Houston didn’t call his name.
Marcus hoped the assembly would be over soon. He was tired of sitting, and his hands were getting sore from clapping. Most of all, he was disappointed. He wished he could be the best at something.
Finally, Mrs. Houston adjusted her glasses and smiled. “Our last awards are for perfect attendance,” she said. Marcus slumped in his seat. Last month he had chicken pox, so he wouldn’t be getting an attendance award either.
On the way home, Ari leaned over the bus seat and poked Marcus on the arm. “Hey, Josh got three awards, but Trina only got two,” he said. “How many did you get?”
Marcus’s face felt hot. “None,” he said.
Marcus got off the bus and kicked a rock up the driveway to his house. Mom was in the garden pulling weeds. “How was your day?” she asked.
Marcus frowned. “We had an awards assembly, but I didn’t get any awards,” he said. “I’m not the best at anything.”
Mom put down her weed digger. “Well, maybe it seems that way,” she said. “But who does your teacher ask when she needs someone trustworthy to take a message to the office?”
“Sometimes she asks me,” Marcus admitted.
“And who always reminds us when it’s time for family home evening?”
“I do,” Marcus said.
“Who found a ten-dollar bill at the store and turned it in, even though he was saving money to buy a soccer ball that he really, really wanted?”
“I did,” said Marcus.
Mom ruffled Marcus’s hair a little. “And who can make your little brother laugh when no one else can?”
Marcus couldn’t help smiling when he thought about his brother’s goofy laugh. “Me,” he said.
“Well,” said Mom, “you may not think you’re the best at anything, but you’re doing your best to be the kind of boy Heavenly Father wants you to be. And I wouldn’t be any prouder if you had come home with a whole armful of awards.”
Marcus gave Mom a hug. He noticed how hot and tired she looked. “Do you need some help with the weeding, Mom?”
“Thanks, Marcus. You’re the best.”

A young father bore witness to me of a great blessing that had come to him and his family. He was awakened one night by a voice that clearly told him to get up and go downstairs. He heeded the warning, and in going into the kitchen he found one wall engulfed in flames. Hurriedly he awakened his family, called the fire department, and with the help of his family fought the fire, keeping it down until the fire department arrived and put it out.
There was no question in his mind that this warning was a manifestation of the protection the Holy Ghost can give to those who keep their lives in harmony with the Spirit.

“Dear Eva, do you really think that my life is perfect?” Aunt Rose sat with Eva on the overstuffed sofa. “There was a time when I was so discouraged I didn’t want to go on.”
“You?” Eva asked.
Aunt Rose nodded. “There were so many things I wished for in my life.” As she spoke, a sadness entered her voice that Eva had never heard before. “Most of them never happened. It was one heartbreak after another. One day I realized that it would never be the way I had hoped for. That was a depressing day. I was ready to give up and be miserable.”
“So what did you do?”
“Nothing for a time. I was just angry. I was an absolute monster to be around.” Then she laughed a little, but it was not her usual big, room-filling laugh. “‘It’s not fair’ was the song I sang over and over in my head. But eventually I discovered something that turned my whole life around.”
“What was it?”
“Faith,” Aunt Rose smiled. “I discovered faith. And faith led to hope. And faith and hope gave me confidence that one day everything would make sense, that because of the Savior, all the wrongs would be made right. After that, I saw that the path before me wasn’t as dreary and dusty as I had thought. I began to notice the bright blues, the verdant greens, and the fiery reds, and I decided I had a choice—I could hang my head and drag my feet on the dusty road of self-pity, or I could have a little faith, put on a bright dress, slip on my dancing shoes, and skip down the path of life, singing as I went.” Now her voice was skipping along like the girl in the painting.
Aunt Rose reached over to the end table and pulled her well-worn scriptures onto her lap. “I don’t think I was clinically depressed—I’m not sure you can talk yourself out of that. But I sure had talked myself into being miserable! Yes, I had some dark days, but all my brooding and worrying wasn’t going to change that—it was only making things worse. Faith in the Savior taught me that no matter what happened in the past, my story could have a happy ending.”
“How do you know that?” Eva asked.
Aunt Rose turned a page in her Bible and said, “It says it right here:
“‘God … will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God.
“‘And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.’”
Great-Aunt Rose looked at Eva. Her smile was wide as she whispered, with a slight quiver in her voice, “Isn’t that the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard?”
It really did sound beautiful, Eva thought.
Aunt Rose turned a few pages and pointed to a verse for Eva to read: “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.”
“With such a glorious future,” Aunt Rose said, “why get swallowed up in past or present things that don’t go quite the way we planned?”
“Oh, of course it can!” Aunt Rose exclaimed. “Dear child, now is part of eternity. It doesn’t only begin after we die! Faith and hope will open your eyes to the happiness that is placed before you.
“I know a poem that says, ‘Forever—is composed of Nows.’ I didn’t want my forever to be composed of dark and fearful ‘Nows.’ And I didn’t want to live in the gloom of a bunker, gritting my teeth, closing my eyes, and resentfully enduring to the bitter end. Faith gave me the hope I needed to live joyfully now!”
“So what did you do then?” Eva asked.
“I exercised faith in God’s promises by filling my life with meaningful things. I went to school. I got an education. That led me to a career that I loved.”
“How can you be so wise for someone so young?” Aunt Rose asked. “You’re absolutely right. And most of those busy, unhappy people have forgotten the one thing that matters most in all the world—the thing Jesus said is the heart of His gospel.”
“And what is that?” Eva asked.
“It is love—the pure love of Christ,” Rose said. “You see, everything else in the gospel—all the shoulds and the musts and the thou shalts—lead to love. When we love God, we want to serve Him. We want to be like Him. When we love our neighbors, we stop thinking so much about our own problems and help others to solve theirs.”
“And that is what makes us happy?” Eva asked.
Great-Aunt Rose nodded and smiled, her eyes filling with tears. “Yes, my dear. That is what makes us happy.”

Where I live, we have no cinemas, no bowling alleys. The only thing a lot of teenagers think there is to do around here, it seems, is party and drink alcohol. Peer pressure can also be overwhelming. What makes it worse is that there are only a few active members of the Church at my school.
One afternoon at work I talked with a male friend of mine. The conversation eventually turned to drinking. “I don’t drink, ever. Not a drop,” I said. He gave me a strange look, and then, in a low voice, said, “I wish I could do that. I could never stick with decisions like that.” He started picking on me for my standards, but I knew that deep down he fully respected me.
A few months later, the same friend had a birthday party, and I went, not knowing what would be going on there. My friend walked around with a $50 note in his hands, which I jokingly snatched from his hand, thanking him. He sat down next to me. “Okay,” he said. “You can keep the money, but only if you sip some alcohol.” I politely refused and gave him the money. He was shocked that somebody would pass up a $50 note. Then, he told me how strong and brave I was. The person sitting on the other side of him said good things about me. It was cool—one of the best feelings I have ever had.
I learned that people respect our standards and expect us to stay true to them. If we’re not true to our standards, we don’t earn respect from them or ourselves. People notice everything we do.

It has been said that “nobody ever lost his shirt with his sleeves rolled up.” This theory was recently put to the test by a very ambitious group of youths from the Layton Utah West Stake. Working hard they scraped the old paint off and put the new paint on their stake farmhouse in the short space of three and a half hours.
Lights in the homes of ward members began clicking on at about 5:30 A.M. one recent Saturday, and soon Mia Maids, teachers, Laurels, priests, and their advisers were gathered together at the stake farm for breakfast. (The official passport to the scrumptious meal of ham, pancakes, and orange juice was a paint scraper!) After eating, the youths found they had more than enough energy to complete their project. Within an hour most of the old paint had been taken off by paint scrapers; in some cases, it was beaten off with the ends of brushes. Nearly three hours of brushing or rolling the paint onto the house followed, after which the young people joined together for a group picture to help them remember the morning’s work.
That evening they enjoyed themselves at a dance, but the truly memorable part of the day was summed up by Anne Rowley who said, “Our greatest sense of satisfaction came from the feeling that we were following the guidelines set down by our prophet and other Church leaders. We had made a concrete attempt to keep our community clean and orderly.”

When our son Eli was in fourth grade, his class set up a mock government where he was elected by his peers to serve as class judge. One day a sitting judge from the Utah 2nd District Court visited, put his official robes on Eli, and then administered an oath of office for their class. This ignited in Eli’s young, impressionable soul a passion for studying law and the Lawgiver Himself, Jesus Christ.
After years of diligent effort, Eli received an invitation for an interview with one of his top choices for law school. He pronounced, “… The final question was, ‘Where do you derive your moral compass?’ … I stated if all of humanity abided by the teachings of Jesus Christ in the Sermon on the Mount, the world would be a better, more peaceful place.” Then the interview ended, and he thought to himself, “There go my childhood dreams. No one in secular academia wants to hear about Jesus Christ.”
Two weeks later, Eli was admitted with a scholarship. Before committing, we visited the campus. … Remarkably, as we walked through the magnificent library and stately corridors, we found on banners and carved in stone attributes from the Sermon on the Mount.
The Sermon on the Mount is decisively the most noteworthy discourse ever delivered, pioneering in its teachings. No other sermon can help us better understand the character of Jesus Christ, His divine attributes, and our ultimate purpose to become like Him. …
We need to infuse the Light of Jesus Christ into every corner of our lives. …

Before the performance, the idea of trying to fill the civic arts center’s 1,800 seats was a major worry. There had to be a small charge to cover the rental of the building and the technical crew that worked for the civic center. However, the ticket price was much less than the price of a movie ticket, and for many members of the community, particularly those on fixed incomes, it was the first chance they had to attend a great production at the new civic arts plaza. The low ticket price also made it possible for whole families to attend a show together. And that’s who came—by the hundreds.
The night of the first performance was a sellout. There were lots of backstage nerves, but lots of excitement too. “I’ll never forget waiting in line backstage,” said Jenny Orme, Thousand Oaks Fourth Ward, “getting ready to go on stage and having that feeling of delight. All during practices, the performance seemed so far away, but now it was here and everyone was ready to show the audience what we could do and what we had worked so hard for.”
The show was such a success that people clamored for another performance. However, the encore performance did not go so smoothly.
Just hours before the second performance was to go on, the power failed. Nothing is darker than the inside of a theater with no power. The cast gathered for prayer. Together they asked for a miracle.
Still no lights.
The cast, already in costume, gathered on the stage. The mood was glum. Then Tina Johnson walked over to her friend Danielle Smith and asked her if she wanted to sing “How Great Thou Art” with her. The two girls’ voices filled the dark and others joined in. As soon as they finished that hymn, another was started. A great feeling of warmth and comfort and peace came over the cast.
Still no lights. That night the show had to be canceled.
“It was a very spiritual experience,” said Kit Regas. “Even though we didn’t get to do the show, I think everyone gained from that.”
Brother Brimhall explained to the disappointed cast members that many times in the Church’s history people have prepared and worked on something good only to be forced to leave it behind and never enjoy the fruits of their labors. He explained that being engaged in a good cause is always beneficial. It was a hard lesson for some of the young people, but only when the disappointment had faded did they come to appreciate just how wonderful it felt to be praying and singing together on a dark stage.
The second and final performance of Showtime was rescheduled. This time the lights stayed on, stage fright was nearly gone, and the word had spread that this was a very good show. No one worried about empty seats anymore.
The cast had become more than friends; they were more like one big family. The natural barriers between the ages broke down. The teens became good friends with the adults. The adults had a new appreciation for the youth. Tina Johnson said, “I’ll be with my friends at the grocery store, and I’ll see someone from Showtime. We just start talking. My friends always ask, ‘How come you are friends with so many grownups?’”
“Showtime was a really great experience,” said Jessica Seemann, Moorpark First Ward. “I made a lot of new friends, and I became closer to my old friends. My family brought seven nonmembers to the show. They loved it. I am so glad I decided to be in Showtime.”
Why spend all the time and effort to put together such a big show? Emily Benton, 17, of the Moorpark First Ward, knows. “I loved it! I met so many new friends. I love doing things like that and spending time with good LDS people. It was a great missionary experience.”
Now back to Marshall. Did he ever learn to sing and dance? His choreographer, Kathi Orme, says, “His part was not easy. He worked very hard, and he got it.”
But Marshall is harder on himself. “I wish I could say that I’m a better singer and dancer now, but I am still terrible at both.” But there he was, up on stage, trying to smile and concentrate on his feet at the same time. He did great.

The first year the party was held, only the Primary children and their parents were invited, but about halfway through that evening the young people realized they were leaving out almost half the children of the neighborhood. The next year everyone under 12 and their parents were invited. “This year we brought nine nonmember neighbors,” said Adrienne Brantzeg, a Laurel. Two of those were six-year-old Martin Seraphin and his mother who had recently moved with their family to Salt Lake City from New Jersey. “He’ll remember this until he’s 43,” Mrs Seraphin said of her son. “I can’t believe there are young people who would go to all this work just to serve the neighborhood children.”

In my growing-up years in Germany, I attended church in many different locations and circumstances—in humble back rooms, in impressive villas, and in very functional, modern chapels. All of these buildings had one important factor in common: the Spirit of God was present; the love of the Savior could be felt as we assembled as a branch or ward family.
The Zwickau chapel had an old air-driven organ. Every Sunday a young man was assigned to push up and down the sturdy lever that operated the bellows to make the organ work. Even before I was an Aaronic Priesthood bearer, I sometimes had the great privilege to assist in this important task.
While the congregation sang our beloved hymns of the Restoration, I pumped with all my strength so the organ would not run out of wind. The eyes of the organist unmistakably indicated whether I was doing fine or needed to increase my efforts quickly. I always felt honored by the importance of this duty and the trust that the organist had placed in me. It was a wonderful feeling of accomplishment to have a responsibility and to be part of this great work.
There was an additional benefit that came from this assignment: the bellows operator sat in a seat that offered a great view of a stained-glass window that beautified the front part of the chapel. The stained glass portrayed the First Vision, with Joseph Smith kneeling in the Sacred Grove, looking up toward heaven and into a pillar of light.
During the hymns of the congregation and even during talks and testimonies given by our members, I often looked at this depiction of a most sacred moment in world history. In my mind’s eye I saw Joseph receiving knowledge, witness, and divine instructions as he became a blessed instrument in the hand of our Heavenly Father.
I felt a special spirit while looking at the beautiful scene in this window picture of a believing young boy in a sacred grove who made a courageous decision to earnestly pray to our Heavenly Father, who listened and responded lovingly to him.
Here I was, a young boy in post–World War II Germany, living in a city in ruins, thousands of miles away from Palmyra in North America and more than a hundred years after the event actually took place. By the universal power of the Holy Ghost, I felt in my heart and in my mind that it was true, that Joseph Smith saw God and Jesus Christ and heard Their voices. The Spirit of God comforted my soul at this young age with an assurance of the reality of this sacred moment that resulted in the beginning of a worldwide movement destined to “roll forth, until it has filled the whole earth” (D&C 65:2). I believed Joseph Smith’s testimony of that glorious experience in the Sacred Grove then, and I know it now. God has spoken to mankind again!

As I was growing up, there were no Church buildings in the entire state of New Jersey, so for a time our little branch met in a hotel in a nearby town. My earliest memory of having a testimony of the gospel was when I was five or six years old and we were having a meeting in the ballroom of the hotel.
An important visitor was there. I don’t remember now who he was, but he was very thin and tall, and I believe he had white hair.
I had grown restless near the end of the meeting as he was speaking, and my mother had been trying to keep me quiet. She finally let me sit backward in my chair so that my legs were dangling from it. Although I wasn’t facing the speaker, I was listening to him. Suddenly I felt a burning in my heart, just like the burning described in Doctrine and Covenants 9:8 [D&C 9:8]: “And if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right.” I remember turning around and seeing this tall man with the light streaming in from the large windows behind him, and I knew that he was a servant of God and that what he was saying was true. The feeling I had then was as clear and sure as anything could be.

Let me close with a final concrete example from a person who is not a member of our Church. President Dallin H. Oaks (former president of Brigham Young University), told me of this inspiring application of the very point I am trying to make about choices and obligations. As you know, President Oaks as a young law professor was closely associated with Justice Lewis M. Powell, now of the Supreme Court of the United States. Justice Powell’s daughter was herself a recent graduate of a fine law school, following which she began a very successful law practice and a marriage almost simultaneously. Some time thereafter she had her first child. In paying a courtesy call as a family friend, President Oaks was pleasantly surprised to find this young mother at home with her child full time. When asked of this decision the young woman replied, “Oh, I may go back to the law sometime but not now. For me the issue was simple. Anyone could take care of my clients, but only I can be the mother of this child.” What an incisive answer to an issue she says was simple! And it does seem to have been simple because she approached it, not in terms of rights, but first and foremost in terms of responsibilities. I think the issue would not have been so simple if her attitude had been, “It’s my career,” or “It’s my life.” But her concern was for her obligations. When considered that way, the issue and the answer were simple.

John, David, and Keir wandered along the Fox River hiking trail one beautiful spring day. John and David were brothers, and their friend Keir lived around the corner from them.
“What do you guys want to do?” asked nine-year-old John.
“Let’s go home and get some ice cream bars. Mom just bought some,” seven-year-old David said.
“OK,” Keir said, “race you!” They took off up a dirt path that led back to the main road. Two blocks from John and David’s house, Keir stopped.
“Hey, look,” he said, pointing to something lying along the side of the path. “What’s that?”
It looked like a stack of paper. As the boys got closer, they realized it was a magazine. It was colorful and shiny with lots of glossy pictures. The pages flapped in the soft breeze.
“Cool,” John said as he picked it up.
They quickly realized that it was not at all “cool.” The magazine cover had pictures of naked women. The boys suddenly became very quiet.
“I think this is what’s called ‘porn,’” Keir said.
“What’s that?” David asked.
“Pornography,” John stated. He slammed the magazine closed and folded it in half so they couldn’t see the cover. “We shouldn’t look at it.”
“I think we should tell our moms,” Keir said.
“Or we could just leave it here,” David said.
“No, I don’t want someone else to find it. We’ll take it to Mom. She’ll know what to do,” John said.
David and Keir nodded. The three boys continued up the path. They didn’t want to laugh and shout anymore. They all felt a dull, heavy feeling inside. They were curious about the magazine, but no one wanted to look at it again.
When they got home, John showed his mom what they had found.
“You were right not to keep looking at it. This is not good for us to see,” she said. “I’m proud of you boys for bringing it to me. I’ll get rid of it.”
Later, when Keir got home, he told his mom and dad what had happened. They had a talk about pornography.
“Heavenly Father gave us our bodies to house our spirits,” Keir’s mom said. “Our bodies are very important, and we shouldn’t misuse them.”
“That magazine was showing how some people treat their bodies badly,” his dad added. “Pornography is evil, and the prophet has told us to stay away from it. You boys made a good decision today, Keir. You’ll be blessed for it.”
Keir had a good feeling in his heart that lasted for a long time. He knew John and David felt the same way. All three boys understood that the Holy Ghost had guided them to choose the right.

I think of my own grandfather, Nels Monson, who waited seven years for his sweetheart to become his bride. The first entry in his missionary journal expressed eloquently his gratitude: “Today, in the Salt Lake Temple, Maria Mace became my eternal wife.” The entry written three days later was more somber: “Tonight the bishop came to our house. I have been called to serve a two-year mission to Scandinavia. My dear wife will remain at home and sustain me.” I treasure such faith. I cherish such commitment.

Like Solomon, many others rallied around Joseph and joyfully accepted the truth. They joined the Church in New York, but left their homes to follow him when the Lord directed him to go to Ohio. (See D&C 37:1.) Among those who were prepared to receive the gospel in Ohio were Newel and Elizabeth Whitney. One evening at about midnight, the Whitneys were praying, asking God how they could obtain the gift of the Holy Ghost. Elizabeth recorded their experience:
“The spirit rested upon us and a cloud overshadowed the house. It was as though we were out of doors. The house passed away from our vision. … A solemn awe pervaded us. We saw the cloud and we felt the spirit of the Lord.
“Then we heard a voice out of the cloud saying:
“‘Prepare to receive the word of the Lord, for it is coming!’
“At this we marveled greatly; but from that moment we knew that the word of the Lord was coming to Kirtland.”11

Clomp, clomp, clomp! Twenty-one pairs of feet walked across a wooden bridge. Twenty-one Primary children were about to travel back in history to a special place—and leave it better than they found it.
Primary children from the Billerica Ward, Nashua New Hampshire Stake, were having a service activity at the Minute Man National Historic Park in Concord, Massachusetts. The wooden bridge is a replica of the Old North Bridge, where the first battle of the American Revolution took place on April 19, 1775.
The children’s goal was to help clean up the park. Before they got started, a park ranger told them about the park’s history. Then their Primary president, Sister Stephanie Davis, reminded them how the founding of the United States helped prepare the way for the gospel to be restored.
The children knew they were in a place that deserves respect. They had fun without yelling or being rowdy. What does it mean to respect a place? Here’s what the children had to say:
“It means you want to take care of the place so that it’s kept special.” —Abby K., age 8
“It means you leave it looking the same or better than when you got there.” —Dallen H., age 9
“It’s like saying, ‘I appreciate you.’” —Taylor A., age 11
Then they put on rubber gloves and went to work, putting every piece of trash they could find into their garbage bags.
How did the children feel when they were finished? Good, because “this is a place where something really happened,” said Alden D., age 11. All the children agreed that it felt great to show their respect for an important place that’s right in their own backyard.

Over the years, Kumar met two other mission presidents and occasionally had the opportunity to take some couple missionaries on tours which also had a positive influence on him. After talking with some good members, Kumar decided to take the missionary lessons.

Kumar remembered the first lesson when President Roshan, Negombo branch president, told him he shouldn’t worry if a tour group commitment prevented him from coming to church sometimes. He assured him that this church is not for perfect people but those who are striving to become perfect.

Kumar exclaimed, “This was wonderful to my ears,” as this issue of missing church after committing himself to Christ weighed heavily on his mind. Now he could progress with a clear conscience and learn more about the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.

“The Book of Mormon was very nice to read. It helped me feel closer to my wife and more comfortable with my family,” says Kumar. In December of 2019, Kumar was baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.