Gospel Story Finder

It’s Saturday morning, Shannon McNally is wide awake, and she’s still snoring. Listening to her and egging her on is Shannon’s younger sister, Landis. It looks strange, really. But it’s not. It’s what Landis likes. So Shannon indulges her mentally retarded sister.

“She likes for me to snore for her,” Shannon says with a shrug. Shannon doesn’t know why Landis likes that, or why she likes her big sis to play “The Wedding March” on the piano. “That’s just one of Landis’s things too.”

Shannon, 15, and Landis, 12, share a bedroom in their Union Bridge, Maryland, home. And despite Landis’s disability, the two sisters are just that. “We’re like regular sisters who have special things between them,” Shannon continues. That would explain the snoring and “The Wedding March.”

It would also explain why Shannon is such a big help to her mother when it comes to dealing with Landis. “Right now, Landis throws a lot of tantrums, she pulls hair, she spits, and she scratches. She’s also speech-disabled,” says the girls’ mom, Anjela McNally. “Shannon probably understands [Landis] a tad better than I do. I’ll say, ‘Shannon, what’s Landis trying to say?’ Shannon knows her sister very well and can usually tell me.”

That doesn’t mean it’s always easy for Shannon, a Mia Maid in the Westminster Ward of the Frederick Maryland Stake. When Landis gets upset, she’ll begin, as Shannon describes it, “trashing the house.” Once Shannon was heating up some leftover pizza, when Landis decided she wanted pudding instead. When Shannon told her she’d have to eat the pizza, Landis began throwing her food around the kitchen and knocking things off the counter.

“I get frustrated a lot over the things she does. I don’t mean to get mad but sometimes I do. Then I feel bad because I know she doesn’t quite understand why I’m yelling at her,” says Shannon. It’s at moments like these that Shannon will give Landis a hug, or sit with her in a chair, look at a magazine, and just rock back and forth. “It helps my anger to go away.”

“What is so incredible about Shannon is she’s able to not let what Landis does get her down too much. She has a great sense of humor about it,” says Sister McNally, a single parent who also has two sons, K. C. and Lucas, still at home. “Shannon is always willing to help, and she’s very kind to Landis. And Landis turns to Shannon for help as much as me or maybe even sometimes a little bit more than me.

“Shannon is a good role model for Landis,” Sister McNally continues. “But I think she’s more of a hero for Landis. Shannon has always been really pleasant and easygoing. I call her ‘my cheerful giver.’”

Even with all the help she provides her mother, Shannon still finds time for seminary, and school activities, which include her participation in color guard, a precision performing group that twirls flags. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, days Sister McNally is at school, Shannon is there to help Landis get off the bus. She also helps Landis get dressed, and will occasionally help with her bath.

There are moments when Shannon stops and considers her sister’s plight. She’ll think about times when Landis cries and doesn’t stop, and how hard it is to see her sister sad and not be able to find out what’s wrong. There are other times when Shannon will think about the gospel, and specifically about the Resurrection. “Landis has been this way for as long as I can remember. It’s hard for me to imagine her being perfect, her being able to speak,” Shannon explains. “I can’t really imagine her that way, but I know she will be someday.”

Sister McNally says, “I try to teach Shannon that she won’t always be recognized here for the help she’s given Landis, or for the way she’s been kind to Landis and helped make Landis’s life easier. But I also teach her that someday Landis will be able to come up to her and talk, and that this is not a permanent condition. As a family, we have had to do a lot of soul searching and a lot of studying of the purpose of life.”

For now, Shannon will continue caring for Landis. Like the nights when Shannon wakes up and makes sure her sister has blankets on her, or when she takes Landis outside to ride her bike. Those are the times when Landis will smile and so will Shannon. And one thing will be readily apparent. They’re sisters, and they love each other very much.

“Some two or three years after I was baptized, one day while engaged in my studies, I began to reflect upon the fact that I had not obtained a knowledge of the truth of that work—that I had not realized the fulfillment of that promise, ‘he that doeth my will shall know of the doctrine,’ and I began to feel very uneasy. I laid aside my books, left the house, and wandered around through the fields under the oppressive influence of a gloomy, disconsolate spirit, while an indescribable cloud of darkness seemed to envelop me. I had been accustomed, at the close of day, to retire for secret prayer, to a grove a short distance from my lodgings, but at this time I felt no inclination to do so. The spirit of prayer had departed and the heavens seemed like brass over my head. At length, realizing that the usual time had come for secret prayer, I concluded I would not forgo my evening service, and, as a matter of formality, knelt as I was in the habit of doing, and in my accustomed, retired place, but not feeling as I was wont to feel.

“I had no sooner opened my lips in an effort to pray, than I heard a sound, just above my head, like the rustling of silken robes, and immediately the spirit of God descended upon me, completely enveloping my whole person, filling me from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, and O the joy and happiness I felt! No language can describe the almost instantaneous transition from a dense cloud of mental and spiritual darkness into a refulgence of light and knowledge that God lives, that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and of the restoration of the Holy Priesthood, and the fulness of the Gospel. It was a complete baptism—a tangible immersion in the heavenly principle or element, the Holy Ghost; and even more real and physical in its effects upon every part of my system than the immersion by water; dispelling forever, so long as reason and memory last, all possibility of doubt or fear in relation to the fact handed down to us historically that the ‘babe of Bethlehem’ is truly the Son of God; and also the fact that He is now being revealed to the children of men, and communicating knowledge, the same as in the apostolic times. I was perfectly satisfied, as well I might be, for my expectations were more than realized; I think I may safely say, in an infinite degree.

“I cannot tell how long I remained in the full flow of the blissful enjoyment and divine enlightenment, but it was several minutes before the celestial element which filled and surrounded me began gradually to withdraw. On arising from my kneeling posture, with my heart swelling with gratitude to God, beyond the power of expression, I felt—I knew that he had conferred on me what only an omnipotent being can confer—that which is of greater value than all the wealth and honors worlds can bestow. That night as I retired to rest, the same wonderful manifestations were repeated, and continued to be for several successive nights. The sweet remembrance of those glorious experiences, from that time to the present, brings them fresh before me, imparting an inspiring influence which pervades my whole being, and I trust will to the close of my earthly existence.” (Preston Nibley, The Presidents of the Church [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1974], pp. 139–140.)

I am the first of any in my family as far back as I know to have graduated from college. I owe this accomplishment to my father who although he had no formal education, was one of the brightest men I have ever met. My father was a completely self taught man. Within a few weeks after he had purchased a saxophone as a young teenager, he was playing dances professionally and earning money. My father was an absolute genius in electronics and could literally repair anything electrical. I will always remember and never forget his applying for a job with the then Atomic Energy Commission now called INEL to work in electronics. Upon reading the letter of offer, my father sat down on our sofa and literally put his head in his hands and shed tears. He was told in that letter that there were no openings in electronics because he had no qualifications. However, the letter said there was an opening for a dishwasher. Can you imagine how my father felt? Can you understand why he became so insistent that I take advantage of my educational opportunities. How thankful I am for that support and encouragement.

I also passed the high school entrance exams and felt relieved. My heart was lighter as I once again approached my parents about baptism, figuring I had proven I could be active in the Church and still succeed at school. Their response knocked me back into reality. “No,” my father said, “from now on school will be even tougher. You won’t have time for church and school too.”
My parents became increasingly upset by my diligence in attending Church meetings and would speak harsh words when I left the house on Sundays. After many months, however, they finally realized I wasn’t going to stop attending, and their resistance slackened somewhat. I continued studying seminary manuals, and my testimony grew more and more firm. But baptism still seemed impossible.
Finally, Naomi suggested that we should fast and pray about the situation. So every Sabbath day—for an entire year—we fasted. Naomi fasted and prayed right along with me. I could always feel God’s presence nearby, and my testimony became unshakable as we realized many other blessings that year. But my parents remained firm.
Last of all, my thoughts drifted to the beginning of this school year—my last in high school, the year of preparation for the college entrance examinations. I knew I would not be allowed to join the Church until the exams were over. I also wondered if my parents would allow me to be baptized even after the tests. One thing was certain, though. If I failed the exams, my parents would say, “The reason you failed is because you spent so much time with that church!” I had to prove that what they were thinking just wasn’t right. Somehow I knew that passing those tests was the key to my baptism, but I couldn’t see how.
I studied harder than I ever had before. Schoolwork passed ahead of everything, even Church assignments. Seminary studies began to pile up, but I rationalized that in order to be baptized, it was worth neglecting seminary in favor of schoolwork. The lack of seminary study worried me, however, for it was there I had grown the most and felt the strongest testimony. Now that testimony seemed to be shrinking as 13 home study books cluttered my shelf. My conscience told me I wasn’t doing what was right, that even with school there should be time for Church work and seminary too. On February 25 I promised myself I would complete all 13 books by March 4, the day exams began. Sandwiched in between my other schoolwork, seminary workbooks became a welcome break. On March 2, I handed all of my assignments, completed, to my amazed seminary teacher.
“It’s time,” the teacher supervising the exam said. I looked at the clock and whispered a prayer. Like a squadron of robots, the college entrance exam candidates rose and entered the testing area. Reluctantly, I joined them.
I passed! I couldn’t believe it! I was so excited! But several days later, when the scores were posted, I was listed. I would be able to go to college! I rushed to my parents with the good news and also asked if now I could finally have my wish—to become a member of the Church.
“No,” my father said simply. He startled the words right out of my mouth.
But my mother, although she had never done so before, came to my defense. She reminded him that I had been true to my studies and true to my religion for four years. “That’s such a good church that I don’t think my daughter would be doing anything wrong by joining it,” she said. “It is such a good church. I can understand why my daughter wants to go to it all her life.”
The three of us talked for hours, and I slowly realized my parents weren’t against me but loved me. They were concerned for my welfare and didn’t want me doing something blindly. I’m grateful to have such wonderful parents. I think they realized, too, that I wasn’t joining the Church on a whim. They gave me permission to be baptized! I made that covenant and received that ordinance on the same day I graduated from the Young Women program. My friends from seminary helped plan the baptismal service, and most of my family attended.
Of the high school- and college-age members of the Church in Japan, only about 5 percent have parents who are members. They may find that sharing the gospel with their families can be difficult and that parents of the Buddhist and Shinto faiths don’t always understand the joy that comes into someone’s heart through the knowledge of the gospel of Jesus Christ. But I truly believe that the Lord is mindful of us and will provide a way to help us. For me, it was through four years of patience that allowed my faith to grow strong.

When the recess bell rang, Grace hurried toward the slide with Samantha.
Chloe came running behind them. “Grace, let’s play zookeeper on the jungle gym.”
“We’re playing on the slide,” Grace said. “Want to come? We can all play together.”
“No, we can’t,” Chloe said. “You have to pick Samantha or me.”
Grace frowned. “But I already told Samantha …”
“Fine!” Chloe said, and she stomped away.
Grace walked with Samantha toward the slide. They heard Chloe’s voice behind them. She was talking to the teacher on recess duty, Mrs. Haskins.
“Grace says she doesn’t want to play with me,” Chloe said.
Grace whirled around. “That’s not what I—”
“Let’s be nice, girls,” Mrs. Haskins said.
So Grace played with Chloe, and Samantha played with someone else.
Grace thought back to the beginning of the year when she met Chloe. They played together almost every day at recess. Now Grace was getting to know the other children in her class. But Chloe got upset when Grace played with someone else. Maybe Grace could hide from Chloe at recess or tell her she didn’t want to be friends anymore. But that wouldn’t be kind.
As Mom drove home from school, Grace sighed.
“That sounds like a sad sigh,” Mom said. “What’s wrong?”
Grace told Mom about Chloe. “Friends shouldn’t be annoying, should they?”
“Do you think Chloe is trying to be annoying?” Mom asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” Grace said.
“Do you think you should tell Chloe she’s annoying?” Mom asked.
Grace pictured herself telling Chloe. She imagined that Chloe’s face would look very sad.
“No,” Grace said. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“Maybe you’ll need to work on not feeling annoyed with Chloe,” Mom said. “That’s a hard thing to do. Maybe you can think of some ideas and we can talk about it again at bedtime.”
That afternoon, Grace sat thinking. She needed some ideas for being patient with Chloe.
Then Grace remembered something. Her teacher, Mrs. Rosario, had shown the class a fun way to think of ideas. Mrs. Rosario called it an idea web.
Grace grabbed a piece of paper and wrote Chloe’s name in the center. Then she circled it and drew four lines coming out of the circle. At the end of each line, Grace wrote one thing she liked about Chloe.
Good imagination
Fun to play with
Loves animals
Fast runner
Grace decided that when she felt annoyed with Chloe, she could think of the reasons she liked Chloe.
At bedtime, Grace showed Mom the paper.
“What a great idea,” Mom said.
“I just thought of something else,” Grace said. “I could give this paper to Chloe at school tomorrow.”
“Another great idea,” Mom said. “I knew you’d think of something.”
At recess the next day, Grace headed outside.
“Chloe!” Grace called. “I have something for you!” Grace handed the paper to Chloe.
“It’s an idea web, isn’t it?” Chloe said.
“Yes,” Grace said. “Those are things I like about you.”
“Thanks,” Chloe said with a smile. “This is so cool.”
Even though the wind was chilly, Grace felt warm and happy as she played with Chloe. When the bell rang, Chloe looked at the paper again.
“I’m going to make an idea web for you,” she said to Grace. “And maybe tomorrow we could show Samantha how to play zookeeper.”
Grace smiled. Tomorrow would be another great day.

A few years ago, I had a stake conference assignment in California. On the flight back to Utah, a beautiful lady in her mid-70s sat beside me. Her name was Patti, and she loved to talk.
Patti told me all about her family—about her husband and her son who had died. Our conversation went on until we were about to land. I said, “Patti, you have been talking for most of the flight. Before we land in Salt Lake City, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
I asked her sincerely, “Patti, do you know you will see your deceased husband again?”
She said, “Oh, is that possible?”
Then I asked, “Do you know you will also see again your deceased son, Matt, who died as a baby?”
Her eyes became moist, and her voice was shaking. The Spirit of the Lord touched her. She had missed them so much.
Then I prayerfully asked her, “Patti, do you know you have a loving and kind Heavenly Father, who loves you so dearly?”
She said, “Do I?”
I asked, “Patti, do you know your Heavenly Father has a special plan for you and that your family can be forever?”
“Can we?” she replied.
“Have you ever heard the plan before?” I asked.
She said, “No.”
Very sincerely I asked her, “Would you like to know about it?”
“Yes, I would,” she responded.
The Spirit of the Lord touched her deeply.
The missionaries taught Patti. Three weeks later, while she was staying in Utah, Patti called me: “Brother Kikuchi, this is Patti. I am going to be baptized. Would you come to my baptism services?”
My wife and I went to her baptism. Many members were kindly fellowshipping her. Oh, I shall never forget her joyful countenance as she came out of the water!
I shall never forget her sweet tears at the sacred altar in the Salt Lake Temple a year later. I remember her peaceful and celestial glow when she was sealed to her deceased husband and son and to her living daughter, who was already a member of the Church.
My friend Patti found the Lord Jesus Christ. Because of the temple sealing, she now knows her family is forever in the Lord.

Because his father believed that boys should learn to work, he bought a farm. The family lived there in the summer and went there on Saturdays in the spring and fall. They pruned trees in winter and early spring, then picked the fruit in late summer and early fall. Young Gordon learned to work hard. He also learned the beauty of nature that God has given us “and the bad things that happen when nature is abused.”†

I love dinosaurs! I have lots of dinosaur books, toys, and pictures. There is a boy in my ward who doesn’t come to church with his family. He loves dinosaurs too, so I decided to share some of my dino books and pictures with him. But then I started feeling sad about giving away some of my things. My mom told me to think about it. When I thought about it, the Holy Ghost told me to share my dinosaur pictures and books. I gave them to my friend, and he felt happy. I felt happy too!

At school, we were studying different religions. The teacher assigned me and my friend Andressa, who is also a member of the Church, to talk about Jesus Christ.
When we began our presentation, many of our fellow students laughed at us, but we did not weaken. We talked about His life—from His birth to His Resurrection. When we finished, many laughed and said annoying things. I became very sad. I thought about missionaries who have doors slammed in their faces, and I realized I was having a similar experience. I bore my testimony about Jesus Christ, that He gave His life and suffered for our sins.
At the end, many of the teachers, including our own, thanked us for having taught them some things they did not know.Cléa de Souza Lira, age 14,Potengi Ward, Natal Brazil Potengi Stake

Five-year-old Jodi loved to sing, especially Primary songs. She and her older sister, Mickell, were often asked to sing for programs and for other special occasions in their ward and community.
One afternoon Mom received a phone call from Sister Crofts. As she hung up the phone, Mom said, “Sister Crofts has invited our family and a few other families from our ward to go to the care center where her father lives to hold a special family home evening.”
“What is a care center?” Jodi wanted to know.
“A care center is a place where people live who need nurses and other trained people to help care for them. Sister Crofts would like us to do some musical numbers there. She also said that maybe our families could go to the public indoor swimming pool after the program.”
Jodi’s eyes lit up with excitement. “That sounds like fun! Can we go? Please?”
“We’ll have to ask the rest of the family what they think, but I feel sure that everyone will agree.”
The rest of the week, Mom helped Jodi and Mickell prepare two of their favorite Primary songs for the program. Soon the special day arrived.
Jodi felt nervous as she walked into the large room at the care center. She thought that most of the people looked very old because they had gray hair and many of them sat in wheelchairs. Some of them glanced up and smiled at her, but some of them looked sad.
Jodi’s family quietly found a place to sit until their turn to sing. Jodi soon realized that the girl sitting next to her wasn’t very old. But she looked different from anyone Jodi had seen before. She wore a helmet on her head and a large towel was tied around her neck. Jodi noticed that the girl could only use one side of her body. She could not talk, either, but she did make some happy-sounding noises when she heard the music.
A nurse explained that the girl and her mother had been in a car accident a few years before. The mother had been killed, and the girl had suffered severe brain damage. She had to wear the helmet to protect her head, and she had to keep a towel around her neck because she did not have very much control over her body and often drooled. The nurse told them that the girl enjoyed listening to music, and she loved having children come to visit.
Jodi felt sad to think that the girl had lost her mother and that she had been hurt so badly in the accident.
Jodi and Mickell sang their very best, and they were happy that nearly everyone in the room looked up and smiled at them as they sang, and clapped loudly as they finished. One lady even shouted, “Beautiful! Beautiful!”
Jodi felt very warm inside and was happy that her family had come that night.
Sister Crofts thanked Jodi’s family for helping with family home evening. She said that her father and the others had enjoyed the program and were glad that they had come.
After leaving the care center, the group ate a picnic and then enjoyed a few hours of swimming at the indoor pool. It had been a great family home evening!
That night as Mom was helping her get ready for bed, Jodi said, “I had fun singing for those people at the care center, but I felt bad for some of them.”
Mother smiled as she put her arm around Jodi. “It was wonderful that we could sing for them, but we probably should have taken the time to give each one of them a hug. There are some people who don’t have anyone to give them hugs.”
“I like hugs.”
“Everyone needs hugs.” Mom gave Jodi a hug that only mothers can give. Then, noticing the look of concern that crossed Jodi’s face, she asked, “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Mom,” Jodi said in a hesitant voice. “I don’t think I could have hugged that girl I sat by.”
Mom smiled at Jodi’s honesty. “Jodi, do you think Jesus would hug that girl?”
Jodi thought for a moment. “I know that Jesus would hug her. He loves everyone.”
Mom smiled and asked Jodi to follow her to the piano in the family room. She opened Children’s Songbook to pages 140–41, one of Jodi’s favorite songs. As her mom played, Jodi sang:
“If you don’t walk as most people do,
Some people walk away from you,
But I won’t! I won’t!
If you don’t talk as most people do,
Some people talk and laugh at you,
But I won’t! I won’t!
I’ll walk with you. I’ll talk with you.
That’s how I’ll show my love for you.
Jesus walked away from none.
He gave his love to ev’ryone.
So I will! I will!”
That gave Jodi something to think about. “Thanks, Mom,” Jodi said as she gave her mother a hug and a kiss. Then she went to say her prayers before climbing into bed.
The next morning, Jodi jumped up with excitement and ran to find Mom. “I had the best dream last night! It was a very happy one about that girl I sat by. And in my dream, I gave her a hug! May we please go to the care center again soon?”
“I think that’s a great idea!” Mom said with a smile.

A motorcycle accident left Wilson paralyzed. A year later his wife passed away. As a widower with two little girls, Wilson did not know what to do. He didn’t know if there was a purpose in life. Wilson could have become bitter. Instead, he began searching for truth.
Cody Bell, photographer
After my motorcycle accident and the loss of my wife, I was left with two little girls to raise. I really didn’t know how I was going to raise my daughters in a wheelchair. This accident completely changed my life.
I had many questions. Why do bad things happen? I was going along trying to do the right things, and my wife was taken from me and I was left in a wheelchair. Then doctors had to operate on my daughter’s head to remove a tumor. I began to think that there was no purpose in life.
I realized that I needed to find the truth. I investigated various religions and found The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I felt that it was the truth.
I learned that there is a life after this one, and when we die, it is possible to be with the ones we love. This brought me joy because of the 10 beautiful years that I had had with my wife.
Finding the gospel changed my life in every sense. I began to have peace of mind and peace of conscience. Happiness entered my family as we went to church every Sunday. We came home strengthened. We were baptized and eventually sealed for all eternity in the temple in Argentina.
Now I keep moving forward in the Church. I’ve served as a counselor in the bishopric, and I try to learn from all of my experiences, from all of life’s tests. This gives me strength. As I’ve been sitting in a wheelchair for more than 20 years, I’ve learned that happiness comes from inside. One learns more every day. For that I feel grateful.
I now know that there is a purpose for being on earth. We are here as part of Heavenly Father’s eternal plan. We have a Savior who overcame death and was resurrected. Knowing this gives me strength. Now, I strive to persevere and continue forward. I have a purpose and I know that as I try to live a worthy life, I can have an eternal family.
Despite the challenges Wilson and his daughter Sofia face, the gospel brings them peace, happiness, and strength. Sofia has lived with her father since her surgery. Wilson finds joy serving in the Church.
Cooking as he maneuvers a wheelchair around the kitchen is one of many skills Wilson has developed since an accident left him paraplegic.
Wilson finds hope and strength from the Savior as he studies the scriptures.
Missionaries join the Di Paula family for dinner. Wilson’s love of the gospel is a strength in his family and to the Church.
After a serious accident and the death of his wife, Wilson questioned the purpose of life. He found purpose when found the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Wilson and Sofia find hope in the gospel. Spending more than 20 years in a wheelchair hasn’t stopped Wilson from serving in meaningful ways.
Wilson’s smile gives evidence of the spiritual abundance in his life. “Happiness comes from inside,” Wilson says. “One learns more every day.”
As they eat together, the Di Paula family shares more than food with the missionaries, they also share their love and gratitude for the gospel.

As I was rereading past issues, the article “Harmer Accidents” in the August 1985 New Era hit home as it did on the first reading. It reminded me of the night of my high school graduation in Provo, Utah. The girl who gave the closing prayer used the phrase “Keep us from harm or accidents”; and I, one of the selected graduation speakers and an English major-to-be, remember thinking contemptuously “What a trite cliche.” And then, just a few hours later, I remember thanking the Lord for trite cliches and sincere prayers as the car I was riding in came within inches of a serious, possibly fatal, accident. As it was, all we got were a few scratches on the car and some suddenly wiser, humbler young women. Thanks for articles that remind us of what’s important.
Kathleen WhitworthFremont, California

After a Young Women lesson about patriarchal blessings, I had this feeling that I needed to receive mine to know the guidance that Heavenly Father has in store for me. I prayed a lot and studied for months.

Then, one day in Sunday School, my teacher told me, “If you’re thinking about your patriarchal blessing, it’s probably time for you to get it.” That inspired me to go for it, and I’m so grateful I did. Because of my patriarchal blessing, I know that Heavenly Father knows who I am.

Acadia L., age 16, Baden-Württemberg, Germany

Sister Lucile Johnson of the Timpanogos Park First Ward, Orem Utah North Stake, now in her 80s, learned early in life to don her spiritual “armor” at the beginning of each day. She remembers “arising early in the morning, before my husband and children were up. I found that kneeling in the stillness of my living room, I could begin pleading with our Father for my needs for that day. This brought me great peace, and I learned that He was my helper and protector. Then I would open my scriptures and partake of their inspiration and guidance. Before I got off my knees each morning to begin whatever I had to do, alone or with little children or with teenagers or with my husband in the military and off to war, I knew I would be equal to it.

“That is why I believe in taking the time in the quiet of the early morning hours to study and pray. You will begin your day with a renewing of your spirit. Then you will be truly ready for whatever might come that day.”

About a year ago, I was in Toronto, Canada, attending a stake conference and while there spoke to the missionaries and suggested that they ask the Golden Questions at every opportunity. Later, the mission president sent me a copy of a letter he had received from one of his lady missionaries. The sister wrote:

When we first arrived in Kirkland Lake, our first assignment, we went to the grocery store; and as the young woman was checking our groceries, I could see her straining to read my name tag. I told her what it was and felt impressed to ask her the Golden Questions. So I said, “What do you know about the Mormons?”
She said, “Not much really.” In reply to the second part, “Would you like to know more about them?” she said “Yes, as a matter of fact, I would.” To make a long story short, she, her husband, her husband’s brother, and his wife were baptized four months later, the delay being due to her husband’s being away for two months.

Six weeks later, another dear sister was baptized as a result of this one Golden Question. Two weeks after that the couple across the street were baptized. Two weeks, still later, the Guild brothers baptized their mother, stepfather, and little sister in Toronto. The mother of Wendy, the girl I met in the grocery store, is now attending all meetings and wants to be taught the discussions. There are also three small children who will now be brought up in the Church, making a total of thirteen now in the Church, and one soon to be baptized, I feel sure, as a result of asking the Golden Questions to this one person.

A short answer such as “A chaste life makes me happy; I know it’s the way God wants us to live” will probably suffice in some circumstances. But if you are talking with a good friend, you might want to share some insights on sexual purity found in the pamphlet For the Strength of Youth.

When I wasn’t able to change my friends’ opinion with words, I tried to do so with my example. Many times I had to refrain from participating in their activities. Although I was left to myself, I knew I was doing the right thing.
Now some of my friends have had unpleasant experiences, and some of them are starting to live this important law.Linda López Fierro, 16,Isidro Ayora Ward, Guayaquil Ecuador East Stake

Often the Lord calls us to do difficult things that we may not be sure we want to do but that will bring great blessings. This is illustrated in the early life of President David O. McKay.

When [he] was eight years of age, his father [also named David] received a call to go on a mission. To accept such a call for two or three years away from home was no easy decision to make. Another baby was on its way, and plans had been made to enlarge the house and furnishings. The responsibilities of running the farm were too great to be left to his wife, so when David showed the letter calling him to a mission, he said: “Of course it is impossible for me to go.” Jennette read the letter, looked at her husband, and said decisively: “Of course you must accept; you need not worry about me. David O. and I will manage things nicely!”. . .
. . . In the absence of his father, the boy David quickly redirected his energies to chores and farm work. Circumstances thus helped to produce a maturity beyond his physical years. [Llewelyn R. McKay, Home Memories of President David O. McKay (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1956), 5–6]

My name is Mili, and I’m eleven years old. My sister, Eli, is ten. We have always lived with our abuelita (beloved grandmother). Our city is surrounded by green hills, and its streets are straight and clean. In the city are many beautiful churches, such as Santo Domingo, where we rest in the quiet coolness after our shopping on Saturdays.
Abuelita doesn’t go to church or anywhere else because of the pain of her arthritis and because she is almost deaf.
Maybe the deafness is the reason she couldn’t listen to the two missionary sisters who came to the gate of our courtyard one day last summer. Abuelita has told us not to open the gate for strangers, but she unlocked it and let them in. Abuelita is always kind, and they looked very hot and tired—and sweet and harmless.
Eli and I stood back quietly when they came in and sat down in our cool sala (living room). We brought them cold lemonade and pan dulce (pastry), as Abuelita has taught us to do for guests in our house. When we sat down and listened to them, they told us wonderful things about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ appearing to a boy named Joseph Smith in the woods, and about the gold plates and the Book of Mormon. And they gave us the book!
Eli and I read to each other every night that week. We liked the stories and the way we felt when we read them. Abuelita doesn’t read.
When the missionaries came back, we were happy to see Abuelita quietly unlock the gate for them. Later they took us with them on the bus to their church. Eli and I liked the way we felt in that church, even though it was a very plain chapel and not so beautiful as Santo Domingo with its colored windows and gold statues. When we asked Abuelita if we could be baptized, she kissed us, said yes, and told us that we were good girls and that she knew that we would follow a good path.
So Eli and I became Latter-day Saints. We went to church every Sunday, and the missionaries didn’t have to come for us, because we knew how to go to the zócalo (town square) and take the bus to the church. We learned to pray to Heavenly Father morning and night and to pay our tithing on the few pesos Abuelita gives us each week for our school supplies and lunches. And we don’t let her put coffee in our milk anymore.
We also learned that we should fast on the first Sunday of the month and give the money to el obispo (the bishop) so he can give it to the poor.
We have many poor people in our city, and Eli and I wouldn’t have minded missing our breakfast and lunch on that one day. But Abuelita doesn’t understand about fasting. She says that we must eat before leaving for church, and she won’t give us money instead of food.
We talked to el obispo about it. He is a very nice man and is very wise. He read to us in the Book of Mormon where Nephi said that if God gives a commandment, He will provide a way to obey it. We had read that before, but when we went home that day, we underlined it in our Book of Mormon. El obispo said that we would find a way to keep the commandment.
One Sunday morning as we walked to the zócalo to catch the bus, we saw a man sitting underneath a big tule tree. He was old and very thin and raggedy. When he held up a dish for money, we saw that the joints of his hands were swollen and knobby like Abuelita’s. He looked sad and tired.
He probably had been there many times when we passed, but this time we really saw him. I told Eli how thankful I was that Abuelita didn’t have to sit on the street and beg, that she had her warm bed and good food. We didn’t have any money to give him, so we walked on, but Eli and I couldn’t stop thinking about him. We talked about him, and when we said our prayers, we prayed for him.
The next Sunday was fast Sunday. Eli and I said our morning prayers and began to get ready for church. Then I had an idea. I told Eli, and she liked it.
Abuelita had our breakfast ready for us, but instead of sitting down to eat, we began to put the tangerines, bananas, a beautiful mango, our empanadas, and our boiled eggs into a small bag. When Abuelita asked us what we were doing, we smiled and asked, “Please, may we take our food with us?” and she let us.
As always, before unlocking the gate of the courtyard to let us out, she kissed us both on each cheek. It’s one way she shows her love for us.
We hurried to the zócalo and looked for the sad beggar. He was there under the tule tree. When we handed him the bag of food, he looked puzzled but opened the bag. Then he saw the beautiful food, and his eyes lit up with happiness. “Gracias, muchachitas, gracias” (“Thank you, young ladies, thank you”), he said. We smiled back, then ran for the bus.
Someday we’ll pay our fast offering to el obispo as others do. Someday Abuelita will truly understand the gospel. God provides a way.

Four-year-old Chad could hardly wait until Monday, when he would go to Cousins’ Camp for the first time. His grandparents held a special camp each year for all their grandchildren.
His older brothers and sister talked about it all year, saying it was even better than going to the Grand Canyon, where their family had visited last year.
The night before camp, Chad and his brothers and sister packed their clothes, scriptures, and journals. Chad couldn’t read yet, but he had his own set of scriptures. When Grandpa had told him he should bring a journal, too, Chad was worried.
“Grandpa,” Chad had whispered, “I don’t know how to write.”
Grandpa had smiled and placed a gentle hand on Chad’s shoulder. “That’s all right. You can draw pictures of what we do at camp. Grandma and I want you to have a record of the week.”
Chad’s mother took him and his brothers and sister to his grandparents’ home in the country the following morning. A banner hung between two poles with the words “Cousins’ Camp” printed in big black letters.
Grandma and Grandpa greeted each child with a hug and a name tag. Grandpa asked Chad’s older brother, Tayson, to give a prayer.
The children rotated between a story station, a cooking station, and a craft station. Grandpa told stories about their pioneer ancestors at the story station. At the cooking station, they made pizzas from Grandma’s homemade dough for their lunch.
At the craft station, Chad made a birdhouse. He couldn’t decide what colors to paint it. All the colors were so pretty. Then he remembered a song he learned in Primary. He chose red, yellow, and blue.
Grandma sat on the bench beside him. “You have chosen beautiful colors for your birdhouse,” she said.
Chad smiled and said, “Thanks, Grandma. They’re the Primary colors.”
Later, Grandma helped everyone make Peanut Butter Balls for an afternoon snack. Chad ate three.
When Chad started to yawn, Grandma suggested a nap.
For dinner, Grandpa showed everyone how to make tinfoil meals with hamburger, potatoes, and carrots. Then they cooked them in the campfire coals.
Chad usually didn’t like his food mixed together, but the tinfoil meals tasted great. He asked for seconds.
At the end of the day, everyone roasted marshmallows over the campfire. Grandpa and Grandma told stories from their childhood. After Chad said his prayers, he settled inside his sleeping bag, tired but happy. “This is the best camp ever!” he thought. “There are already a lot of pictures I can draw in my journal. I can’t wait to see what we do tomorrow.”

As a young couple, my husband and I were called by our bishop to visit and minister to a family who hadn’t been to church in many years. We willingly accepted the assignment and went to their home a few days later. It was immediately clear to us that they did not want visitors from the Church.
So on our next visit, we approached them with a plate of cookies, confident that chocolate chips would melt their hearts. They didn’t. The couple spoke to us through the screen door, making it even clearer that we weren’t welcome. But as we drove home, we were fairly certain success might have been achieved had we only offered them Rice Krispies Treats instead.
Our lack of spiritual vision made additional failed attempts frustrating. Rejection is never comfortable. Over time we began to ask ourselves, “Why are we doing this? What is our purpose?”
Elder Carl B. Cook made this observation: “Serving in the Church … can be challenging if we are asked to do something that frightens us, if we grow weary of serving, or if we are called to do something that we do not initially find appealing.”1 We were experiencing the truth of Elder Cook’s words when we decided we had to seek direction from Someone with a greater perspective than our own.
So, after much sincere prayer and study, we received the answer to the why of our service. We had a change in our understanding, a change of heart, actually a revelatory experience.2 As we sought direction from the scriptures, the Lord taught us how to make the process of serving others easier and more meaningful. Here is the verse we read that changed both our hearts and our approach: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy might, mind, and strength; and in the name of Jesus Christ thou shalt serve him.”3 Though this verse was so familiar, it seemed to speak to us in a new and important way.
We realized that we were sincerely striving to serve this family and to serve our bishop, but we had to ask ourselves if we were really serving out of love for the Lord. King Benjamin made clear this distinction when he stated, “Behold, I say unto you that because I said unto you that I had spent my days in your service, I do not desire to boast, for I have only been in the service of God.”4
As our focus gradually changed, so did our prayers. We began looking forward to our visits with this dear family because of our love for the Lord.5 We were doing it for Him. He made the struggle no longer a struggle. After many months of our standing on the doorstep, the family began letting us in. Eventually, we had regular prayer and tender gospel discussions together. A long-lasting friendship developed. We were worshipping and loving Him by loving His children.
Maybe our bishop knew that was the lesson my husband and I would learn from those early and well-intentioned, yet not perfect, efforts to minister to God’s beloved sons and daughters. I bear my personal and sure witness of the goodness and love He shares with us even as we strive to serve for Him. In the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.