Gospel Story Finder

We’ll be there, Linus. We’ll share your lonely vigil in that ever-so-sincere pumpkin patch. We’ll wait with you and hope with you and almost believe with you. But the Great Pumpkin won’t appear. He can’t. He always spends Halloween with the Hales family in Vestal, New York.
He doesn’t rise from among the vines though. He hides slyly in the mounds of orange-yellow globes at one of the several nearby pumpkin farms, and the Haleses have to come search for him.
Today they’re at Jackson’s Pumpkin Farm in Campville. The open-air pumpkin market is decorated with pumpkin animals, pumpkin people, pumpkin houses. Pumpkins lie all about in great glowing heaps.
Holly, age 14, rolls out a huge, round, golden pumpkin and looks at it critically. It’s beautiful, but it’s not the one. Stephen, age 11-going-on-deacon, studies an elongated pretender with a touch of green in its yellow skin. It would make a fine jack-o’-lantern, but it’s not the Hales family pumpkin.
Dad and Mom rummage about in the towering stacks of autumn gold. Lots of wonderful pumpkins here, but not the one-and-only-authentic-no-doubt-about-it-can’t-miss-right pumpkin.
They take their time. It’s not something they want to be wrong about. It is Kristin who finally finds it—Kristin Lehtinen and her brother Duane, ages 14 and 11. It’s hiding under an obese, presumptuous fruit that’s trying to pass itself off as the perfect pumpkin.
The judges gather around and confer. They examine the candidate from all angles. Yes, this is it! If it’s not the Great Pumpkin, it’s certainly a great pumpkin.
Kristin and Duane are the heroes of the day. They’ve saved the family from the unthinkable disaster of taking home the wrong official Halloween pumpkin.
If you’re wondering why the heroes are not Haleses, it’s because the Haleses and the Lehtinens are good friends who often do things together. Today, October 12, the Lehtinens have joined the Haleses for a Columbus Day family home evening activity. And thank heavens they have!
And that brings us back to the family home afternoon in October. After buying their pumpkins, the Haleses and the Lehtinens moved on to their favorite cider mill for a jug of fresh-pressed cider and a bag of crisp, juicy apples. The local apples are justly renowned, and cider squeezed from them is the sweetest, tangiest nectar this side of heaven. A frothy cider toast is one family tradition the Haleses will drink to at the drop of a cup.
Trailing the deep fragrance of apples, they next drove to the farm of Brother and Sister Hogan to get some cornstalks. Then they went home to make great jack-o’-lanterns out of their great pumpkins.
They decorated their front door and porch with pumpkins, gourds, and cornstalks. Up and down the streets around them, people were doing the same. It’s a tradition the whole town shares. Ghosts appeared in neighborhood windows, and monsters emerged from the shrubs.
It was starting to look like another traditional Hales Halloween, and that suited everyone just fine. Because in the Hales home, family traditions are a family tradition.

Since I now listened to special music with no din of radio and not even a newspaper, I decided to go a step further. I’d try no television on the Lord’s day. In my early days I would have cried, “Fanatic!” or other such things. I mean, what is really wrong with television on Sunday? Nothing. But this step seemed logical to me, and I know the Spirit was guiding me. After I, who had supported Sunday TV for so many years, had taken the giant step, I noticed that without fail the “cream of the crop,” yes, only the most wonderful movies, were shown on Sunday. But I had decided, and I stuck by my guns. Those movies couldn’t uplift me. A whole new world unfolded in my life. Some of the most special moments I have enjoyed have occurred on Sunday evening as I have basked in the spirit of the day and shared my feelings with friends and loved ones instead of rushing home from sacrament meeting to watch my favorite western. Maybe there’s not really a definite commandment about not watching television on Sunday, but what choice experiences I’d have missed by going along with the crowd.

This is best described with a story. When Sister Kaitlyn Palmer received her mission call last April, she was excited to be called as a missionary but felt it equally important and special to go to the temple to receive her endowment and make sacred covenants. Shortly after she scheduled her endowment, the announcement came that all temples would temporarily close due to the worldwide pandemic. After receiving this heartbreaking information, she then learned she would attend the missionary training center (MTC) virtually from her home. Despite these disappointments, Kaitlyn focused on keeping her spirits high.
In the intervening months, Sister Palmer never lost hope of attending the temple. Her family fasted and prayed that temples would open prior to her departure. Kaitlyn would often start her home MTC mornings by saying, “Is today going to be the day we receive a miracle and temples open back up?”
On August 10, the First Presidency announced that Kaitlyn’s temple would reopen for living ordinances on the exact day her early-morning flight to her mission was scheduled. She would not be able to attend the temple and make her flight. With little hope for success, her family contacted temple president Michael Vellinga to see if there was any way the miracle they had been praying for could be realized. Their fasting and prayers were answered!
At 2:00 a.m., hours before her flight departure, Sister Palmer and her family, in tears, were greeted at the temple doors by the smiling temple president with the words, “Good morning, Palmer family. Welcome to the temple!” As she completed her endowment, they were encouraged to move quickly, as the next family was waiting at the temple doors. They drove directly to the airport just in time to make her flight to her mission.

When facing some difficult challenges when I was a teenager, I remember praying to Heavenly Father, asking Him to just take them away from me. I knew He could. I knew He had the power to. But every morning when I woke up, the trials would still be there! I would be devastated. My heart would sink, my faith in the Lord would dwindle. I would feel completely abandoned.

Sometimes I thought my trials were given just to torment me. I couldn’t see any point to them.

One day, I came across these words from Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles: “When those moments come and issues surface, the resolution of which is not immediately forthcoming, hold fast to what you already know and stand strong until additional knowledge comes.”1

I didn’t know the reasons for my trials at that time, but I decided to focus on what I did know. And I did know deep down that if God wasn’t taking my trials away, there had to be a reason for what I was going through, even if I didn’t understand what that reason was at the time. So I continued to put my faith and trust in Him. I kept hoping some “additional knowledge” would come.

And for me in some of my trials, that knowledge finally did come. And even if it didn’t, the Lord still blessed me in other ways.

President Spencer W. Kimball taught that without trials and challenges in life, “there would be no test of strength, no development of character, no growth of powers, no free agency, only satanic controls.”2

There has to be opposition in all things (see 2 Nephi 2:11). Otherwise, how would we ever appreciate the good without the bad? How would we ever feel triumphant when we beat a challenge? We wouldn’t be able to grow if God just magically waved trials away when we asked Him to! When I realized this, my whole perspective on adversity and trials changed. I began to see the good in them.

Trials bring goodness, growth, and strength like nothing else can. But sometimes it can take a while to recognize that goodness. For example, I’ve faced a heavy trial for years, and I may have to face it for the rest of my life.

This particular trial has stretched me, pushed me, and almost defeated me a few times. But now that I look back on everything this trial has put me through, I can honestly say that I am thankful for it. I’m thankful for all my trials.

I’m a different person now because of them. I’m more compassionate, more patient, more forgiving, more resilient, and more hopeful. Through it all, I’ve grown closer to my Heavenly Father and the Savior more than I ever thought I could be. I wouldn’t be who I am today without all my trials.

Adversity is meant to shape you into the person Heavenly Father wants you to become. Trials are definitely challenging, yes, but through it all, they allow you to reach out to God for help, and to feel the comfort, peace, and joy only He can offer you.

If you are struggling to see the good in them now, be patient, keep praying, and have faith. Heavenly Father can strengthen you to endure them well as you continue to put your trust in Him.

Elder Neil L. Andersen of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles has taught: “Challenges, difficulties, questions, doubts—these are part of our mortality. But we are not alone. As disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ, we have enormous spiritual reservoirs of light and truth available to us.”3

If you’re facing a difficult trial, you’re in good company. The Lord is very close to you. He will not abandon you. And He can give you more strength and more courage and more faith than you can imagine.

Though it may seem impossible, you truly can have joy in your trials! In fact, President Russell M. Nelson has taught: “When the focus of our lives is on God’s plan of salvation and Jesus Christ and His gospel, we can feel joy regardless of what is happening—or not happening—in our lives. Joy comes from and because of Him. He is the source of all joy.”4

Having joy in your trials comes from focusing on gratitude, having a good attitude, serving others, and always remembering how much God loves you. He is on your side! He wants what’s best for you. He has a plan. Trust Him. He can bring you true happiness. Things might not always be easy in this life, but it is possible to have joy in whatever circumstances we find ourselves in!

Whenever you’re feeling discouraged, remember that everything will make sense one day. We will have all the answers to our “whys.”

Doctrine and Covenants 101:32–33 says: “In that day when the Lord shall come, he shall reveal all things. Things which have passed, and hidden things which no man knew, things of the earth by which it was made, and the purpose and the end thereof.”

I look forward to that day when everything will make sense. When all the dots finally connect. When everything will absolutely work out. Because it will! Though the tunnels of trials we enter may be long sometimes, the light at the end will never go out. It will always be there to guide us. Just keep going. Just keep trusting in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. They will be with you! And you will find true joy throughout this adventure we call life.

When I was in high school, my mom would place the New Era so that when I came home from school, I would be sure to see it. I usually glanced at the cover and that was it. My freshman year of college my mom started sending me the New Era every month. At first I would just put it on the coffee table hoping to impress someone. Now in my sophomore year, I anxiously await the arrival of the New Era. I really appreciate the uplifting articles and the inspirational musical numbers. Now I don’t have to use the New Era to impress anyone but myself.
Heidi SmithEllensburg, Washington

—The son of a newspaperman, 18-year-old Michael Bitton of Idaho Falls had studied journalism since high school. He had also dabbled in drama. He was amazed when he landed a role in a major production at Ricks.
“I started thinking, This came so easily, maybe I should be in theater!” Soon, however, he found he was spending too much time with the show.
“My grades went down. I was on a scholarship and lost it. I was fired from my job because I didn’t show up.”
He looks back philosophically.
“Maybe being fired was the best thing that could have happened to me,” he said. “I discovered that success in one area is relatively unimportant if the rest of your life is falling apart.”
Now he’s back in journalism, and feels “certain that it’s where I want to be.”

Elder Edward Dube was introduced to the gospel in 1981 by an employer in whose home he worked. The man gave him a copy of the Book of Mormon. He did not read it until 1983 but then was so impressed with Joseph Smith’s testimony of the visitation of Moroni that he responded to an invitation to attend a fast and testimony meeting at the meetinghouse in Kwekwe, Zimbabwe.
He felt uncomfortable at first, feeling that he was in a servant relationship to most of those in attendance.
“But as they bore their testimonies about the Book of Mormon, I felt some connection with these people,” he recalled, “and I was able to share my feelings about the Book of Mormon.”
He would later receive missionary lessons, be baptized, and eventually serve in the Zimbabwe Harare Mission.

Tyler’s example inspired Sarah to start thinking about serving her own mission. “I realized how many people my brother helped come unto Christ, and I also saw how much he had come unto Christ himself. I wanted to have similar experiences,” Hermana Christensen says. “I started to seriously study the gospel and found that the more my testimony and my relationship with my Savior grew, the more I wanted to share what I had.”
Sarah made the choice to put her construction business on hold and serve the Lord. This decision has given her powerful new insights.
“The number one thing my mission has taught me is that the gospel completely changes lives,” Hermana Christensen says. “Growing up in the Church made it hard for me to see how significant the gospel was in my life.
“Here on my mission, I am surrounded by people who do not know about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. When they learn that they are children of God and He has a plan for them, it changes their lives. It is the coolest thing to witness and be a part of. I had an understanding of that before my mission, but now I know that the gospel of Jesus Christ is crucial for joy in this world and in the world to come.”
Hermana Christensen (right) and her companion Hermana Taylor (left) love to serve any way they can.
Photograph courtesy of Sarah Christensen
Though she misses being able to build houses while she serves, Hermana Christensen doesn’t regret her choice. “Of course, there is potential growth that my business could have made while I’m a full-time missionary,” she says. “But I know the Lord will bless my sacrifice of leaving it behind for a bit. My business can wait, but the Lord’s work cannot!”

Mom slumped onto a kitchen chair and sighed.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” Megan asked.
“Oh, I’m just frustrated,” Mom said. “I keep trying to visit teach Sister Raymond, but I can’t even get past the front door.”
“Why not?” Megan asked.
“Sister Raymond’s husband isn’t a member of the Church, and he doesn’t like it when we visit his wife. Sometimes she talks to us through the screen door for a few minutes, but today she wouldn’t even do that.”
Megan gave Mom a hug. She didn’t like seeing her so sad. Then she ran to the kitchen and brought back a warm sugar cookie for Mom.
“Thanks, sweetie. You always know how to make people feel better.”
On Saturday morning, Megan walked into the kitchen just as Mom was hanging up the phone.
“That was the Relief Society president,” Mom said. “She just heard that Sister Raymond had an operation yesterday and has to stay in the hospital for a few days. She wanted to let me know since I’m Sister Raymond’s visiting teacher.”
“Are you going to go visit her?” Megan asked.
“Yes, this afternoon. I’m going to pick some flowers from the garden to brighten up her hospital room.”
As Mom went outside with the clippers, Megan thought about poor Sister Raymond. Then she thought about Sister Raymond’s husband, having to sit alone in an empty house every night. Suddenly she had an idea.
That afternoon, Megan followed Mom into the hospital room. A tired-looking woman was sitting up in bed, and a man with a sad, serious face sat next to her.
“Hello, Sister Raymond,” Mom said. “This is my daughter, Megan. We hope you’re feeling better.” She handed her a pink and red bouquet.
“Oh, how nice!” Sister Raymond said. “I love flowers. This is my husband, Charlie,” she said, squeezing his hand.
“Then these are for you,” Megan said, giving him a covered plate.
“For me?” he asked. He peeked under the foil. “Sugar cookies!”
“I thought you might not feel so lonely if you knew someone was thinking of you.”
“Thank you, Megan. That’s very kind,” he said. And he smiled.
On Tuesday they went back to the hospital. When they got to Sister Raymond’s room, Charlie grinned and said, “There’s our little cookie maker! I was hoping you would come see us again.”
Megan kept the Raymonds laughing with stories about fifth grade; her pet rabbit, Mr. Twinkles; and her little brother, Ian. When it was time to go, Charlie put his hand on her shoulder.
“Megan, I hope the two of you will stop by again soon,” he said.
“But you’ll be leaving tomorrow,” Megan said.
“So come to our house!”
“Really?”
“Of course. Thoughtful young ladies and their moms are always welcome. And thank you again for the cookies. They were the best I’ve had in ages. What’s the secret ingredient?”
“There isn’t one,” Megan said, but she smiled to herself. Maybe a little love made cookies sweeter.
“Well, they were delicious. But, you know, my favorite are chocolate chip,” Charlie said with a wink.
Megan smiled. “Then I guess I’ll be baking again soon!”

For some years we lived near a very skilled mechanic. He and his wife resolved never to go in debt. This resolution was born of a bitter memory. When they were newly married and had their small family, the Great Depression came along, and, as skilled as he was, he could not find a job. Their home mortgage was foreclosed, and they lived through the depression in a chicken coop, which was made reasonably comfortable because of his mechanical skills.

Back in the year 2000, Christina Jenkins’s family had a grand idea for family scripture study: why not read the whole Book of Mormon in a month?! The family, from Yorktown, Virginia, started the month before the school year started, and her dad calculated they would need to read at least 17 pages a day to meet their goal. To help them feel the true spirit of the Book of Mormon, the Jenkins family also decided not to watch television for that month.

“The events that occurred and the lessons we learned became so much clearer,” Christina says. “Reading the Book of Mormon personally and with my family each year has strengthened my testimony of the Book of Mormon and of the gospel of Jesus Christ.”

Christina’s family enjoyed their month-long reading of the Book of Mormon so much they have done it every year since.

“I remember a special boyhood experience when my father once took my brother and me to an athletics competition, and I saw a man throwing the javelin for the first time. It made a great impression on me as a ten-year-old boy. Several years later when I was in school, after a lot of practice, I won the javelin event and became Victor Ludorum (Latin for: Winner of the Games) with successes not only in the javelin and discus, but also in the high jump, long jump, and middle-distance running events. Later still I represented the University of Nottingham and became a qualified javelin and discus coach.”

“I need help!”
Lizzy heard Mom yell from the kitchen and ran to see what was wrong. Mom was standing by the stove, where she had been putting jars of apricots into a pot of water. One of the jars had broken, and the glass had cut her hand deeply.
Lizzy grabbed a clean towel and wrapped Mom’s bleeding hand while Daniel, Lizzy’s older brother, found his keys so he could drive Mom to the hospital.
When Mom came home hours later, she explained that the glass had cut through an artery, a tendon, and a nerve. The doctors had been able to fix her hand, but Mom was supposed to keep her hand dry and hold it above her shoulder for several weeks.
“We’ll all need to help out even more until Mom can use her hand again,” Dad said.
“What if we don’t know what to do?” Lizzy’s younger sister, Jamilyn, asked.
“Don’t worry about that,” Mom said. “I can’t use my hand, but I can coach you if you need help.”
Jamilyn and Lizzy looked at each other and smiled. It sounded like fun.
The next morning after family prayer, Dad left for work.
“I don’t want the rest of the apricots to go to waste,” Mom said. “How do you girls feel about canning fruit today?”
Mom explained how to clean the jars and fill them with apricot halves. Lizzy liked mixing the syrup and carefully pouring some into each jar. Jamilyn wiped the rims and tightened the lids. Soon most of the apricots were stored in glass jars. Lizzy wondered what they would do with the mushy apricots that were left over, until Mom said they would use them to make jam. Lizzy grinned as she and her sister mashed up the apricots. She loved homemade jam!
“This is the best jam I’ve ever eaten,” Mom said during lunch as she munched on a peanut butter and jam sandwich the girls had made for her.
After lunch, the girls were eager to learn what other grown-up chores were on Mom’s “to do” list. Lizzy helped Mom pay the bills. Jamilyn folded laundry. They had just finished pulling weeds from the rose garden when Mom introduced their final adventure of the day: making dinner. The menu included spaghetti, meatballs, and salad.
“What about your breadsticks?” Lizzy asked. Lizzy loved Mom’s homemade breadsticks that they always ate with spaghetti.
“They’re a little tricky to make,” Mom said. But Lizzy and Jamilyn begged Mom to teach them the recipe.
When Dad saw the golden breadsticks and juicy meatballs at dinnertime, he thought Mom had broken the rules about her hand.
“No, the girls did it all!” Mom said proudly.
Before long, Lizzy and Jamilyn could do housework and cook nutritious meals without much help from Mom. Daniel helped out with the evening chores, and Dad went grocery shopping after work. By the time Mom could work around the house again, she found things had changed at home.
“I’ll make dinner tonight,” Lizzy said. “I’m in the mood for spaghetti, and I like my recipe best.”
“Do you need any help with the breadsticks?” Mom asked.
“No, thanks. Jamilyn wants to make them, and you might get in her way,” Lizzy said with a smile.

Along with home teaching, members of a teachers quorum also have the opportunity to serve by preparing the sacrament each Sunday. In the Iowa City Second Ward, the teachers are given rotating assignments of either preparing the sacrament before the meeting or putting the trays away after the meeting.
Before Nate Rideout was a teacher, he admits he wasn’t too concerned about getting to church on time. But now things are different. When it is his month to help prepare the sacrament, Nate makes sure he gets to church 30 minutes before sacrament meeting begins. “The sacrament is the most important part of the meeting,” explains Nate. “I know I can’t be sloppy when I prepare the sacrament, because it is a sacred ordinance.” Nate is grateful for the opportunity he has to reflect upon the importance of the sacrament as he carefully sets out the trays and fills the cups with water.

Now, from the life of another brave believer. On December 27, 2013, Alicia Schroeder joyfully welcomed her dear friends Sean and Sharla Chilcote, who unexpectedly showed up on her doorstep. Sean, who was also Alicia’s bishop, handed her his cell phone and solemnly said, “Alicia, we love you. You need to take this call.”

Alicia’s husband, Mario, was on the phone. He was in a remote area with some of their children on a long-anticipated snowmobile trip. There had been a terrible accident. Mario was seriously injured, and their 10-year-old son, Kaleb, was gone. When Mario tearfully told Alicia of Kaleb’s death, she was overcome with a shock and horror few of us will ever know. It dropped her. Paralyzed with unspeakable anguish, Alicia could neither move nor speak.

Bishop and Sister Chilcote quickly lifted her up and held her. They wept and deeply grieved together for some time. Then Bishop Chilcote offered to give Alicia a blessing.

What happened next is incomprehensible without some understanding of the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the immediate goodness of God. Bishop Chilcote gently placed his hands on Alicia’s head and, with quivering voice, began to speak. Alicia heard two things as though spoken by God Himself. First, she heard her name, Alicia Susan Schroeder. Then she heard the bishop invoke the authority of Almighty God. In that instant—at the mere utterance of her name and God’s power—Alicia was filled with an indescribable peace, love, comfort, and somehow joy. And it has continued with her.

Now, of course, Alicia, Mario, and their family still mourn for and miss Kaleb. It is hard! Whenever I speak with her, Alicia’s eyes well up with tears as she tells how much she loves and misses her little boy. And her eyes remain moist as she tells how the Great Deliverer has sustained her through every bit of her ordeal, beginning with His immediate goodness during her deepest despair and continuing now with the bright hope of a sweet reunion that is “not many days hence.”

When I was 16 years old, I met and befriended a lady with three children. We became trusted friends, although she was ten years older than me. She was having discussions with the missionaries, but at that time I was not interested. I was very frightened and stayed in the kitchen when they arrived.
One evening, when I was making food for the children, I overheard the missionaries speaking about life before birth and after death, and how we choose to have an earthly experience, just as Jesus chose to come to die for us. I felt overwhelmed on hearing this, because in my heart I always felt that we had been around forever.
Later that night I queried my friend for more information, and she told me about Joseph Smith. His story really captured my attention and I felt that it was true. I didn’t rush into anything, but weeks later when I was invited to a sports event at the Church, I decided to go to see the children having fun in the sun. And I really wanted to meet people and find out more about the teachings of the Church.
It was a beautiful day, and many people were there with their children. I was introduced to a few families and was asked if I wanted to meet the bishop. I entered the chapel and I remember the aroma to this day: it was the fresh smell of lovely, polished wood, old wood, and the smell of cakes baking in the oven. I’m not even sure if they were baking cakes that day, but that is what I smelt. It was lovely and clean and smelt homely.
When I walked through the building towards the bishop’s office, I had this overwhelming feeling of pure love and protection. I was very nervous, yet I felt such a strong sense of belonging. I will always remember the big beautiful smile on the bishop’s face, as if he was waiting for me to return home. I felt emotional and frightened at the same time because I didn’t know what to expect. These feelings were all new to me, but I felt this was a major part in my journey, my destiny, while not knowing at that time how my life would turn out. I was only 16 but I remember exactly how I felt that day. My dad had told me about these dangerous religious organisations, but there was no danger here. I only felt love, a love that I yearned to feel forever.
Feeling such love, I felt safe. I felt I was home. I knew this was so right.
This kindhearted man, the bishop, told me his name and spoke with authority, and he made me feel safe and very welcome.
He drew me in with his godly spirit. He drew me in with his smile. He drew me in with his love. He drew me in with his fatherly influence in the way he spoke to me. He drew me in.
He was a good decent man, and a fatherly influence on my shattered, insecure soul. It has taken me years to be who I am today. I was a canny, quiet kid, yet fiery when anyone hurt me. I carried so much pain. So, I love with my heart and soul, and am so overjoyed at the fact that I allowed Bishop Barratt to draw me into the gospel with his beautiful strong spiritual soul. He indeed saved me that day.
I dread to think how my life would have turned out if I had not been introduced to the Church at that time. Although I have had periods of inactivity, I have always stayed loyal to the teachings of the gospel. I have never stopped believing that the gospel is true, and during those times of inactivity, I knew with all my heart and soul that I would return.
Years on, I met my husband, and we were sealed for time and eternity. Bishop Barratt was a very important part of our gospel journey, yet sadly he was too unwell to make trips to the temple; but he did give many beautiful and sacred blessings to my husband. Over the years I would choose him to bless my children. As my children got older and had children of their own, they would also choose Bishop Barratt to bless their babies too.
Brother Ronald Barratt died in early 2021. His beautiful wife, Mary, gave my husband a few of Bishop Barratt’s tie pins, which will be treasured; it’s an honour to have something of his. It has been many years since Brother Ronald Barratt was bishop, but he brought honour to the title.
The Barratts carried out many acts of service in spreading the gospel and teaching people. They were firm examples. They stood strong in the Church through difficult times. They worked hard. Bishop Barratt also had an amazing operatic voice which could drown us all out when singing.
We all have amazing experiences with people in our lives who have been such wonderful examples. I am so grateful to many people in my life. Heavenly Father certainly knows what He is doing. He brings people into our lives for specific reasons. We are never alone, even if we sometimes feel we are.
Cherishing our surroundings and those who have helped us on our way is so important. Each person met on life’s journey can be vital to one’s spiritual growth and emotional wellbeing. Even in challenging times, people are helping to move us forward, to learn from one another through the good and the bad. Everything has its purpose. We see the beauty in others and in ourselves. We are all God’s beautiful precious creations.

Carlos Aguero, of Mendoza, Argentina, was called to go to Paris, France, for his mission. He had seldom been out of his own city. He knew no French. But he, like Nephi, did not murmur and he went. When he arrived in France, he found that his mission president did not speak Spanish. In fact, none of the other missionaries spoke Spanish; they only spoke English and French. Elder Aguero could not speak English. All the zone conferences and instructions were given in English. All other speaking was in French. Carlos studied, he prayed, he cried, he pleaded with the Lord and asked for help from his mission president and his companions. It took months, but he learned French and English. He served an honorable mission. Now living in Mendoza, Argentina, he often uses his English in Church service and in his profession. In April 1986 he translated for President Hinckley at a six-stake regional conference in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

Born in Salt Lake City, Tony Finau is the third of ten children. Despite the financial challenges of his large family, Tony’s passion for golf was ignited at a young age, inspired by Tiger Woods’ historic win in 1997.
That same summer, Tony started playing golf, with his father ingeniously building an indoor driving range in their garage using a mattress and netting to catch the balls. This unique setup allowed Tony and his brother to practice relentlessly, laying a foundation of hard work and determination.
Tony’s path to professional golf was not without its hardships. Turning pro at the age of 17 in 2007, he faced numerous obstacles, including six attempts to qualify for the PGA Tour. It wasn’t until 2014 that he finally made it. These years of perseverance and sacrifice prepared him for the success he enjoys today, illustrating his belief that faith is tested and strengthened through experience.
At the fireside, Tony shared several principles from the 4th Article of Faith, particularly emphasising the first principle, faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. He spoke about how his faith has guided him through life’s storms, drawing parallels to the biblical story of Christ calming the storm. Tony recounted personal trials, such as the complicated pregnancy and surgery of his son, Sage, and the tragic loss of his mother in a car accident in 2011. Despite these challenges, Tony’s faith remained unwavering, attributing miracles in his life to his efforts to put the Lord first.
During the fireside, Tony remarked, “Hard work, like building a testimony, requires effort and sacrifice.” He also shared, “Trying to put the Lord first has allowed miracles to occur in my life.” These insights offer a glimpse into the character and conviction that underpin his career.
Beyond his achievements in golf, Tony and Alayna run the Tony Finau Foundation, which is dedicated to empowering youth and their families in the local community. The foundation focuses on providing educational opportunities, promoting health and wellness, and encouraging community service. Through this work, Tony continues to give back, reflecting his commitment to service and his belief in the potential of every individual.
Tony’s dedication to his faith, family and community is evident in every aspect of his life. He and Alayna are committed to raising their children with the same values, ensuring that their faith remains a central focus. Tony’s testimony and experiences serve as a powerful reminder of the importance of perseverance, hard work and faith.
As Tony Finau continues to make his mark on the golfing world, he remains grounded by his faith in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and his heritage. His journey from a garage driving range to the PGA Tour is a testament to his belief that, with faith and determination, any dream can become a reality.

In the end, one story kept coming back to me—a story that has been imprinted on my memory for many, many years. It isn’t about farming, animals, nuclear engineering, or pigeons. It is as you might have guessed—about aviation. I call it “The Story of the Lightbulb.”
On a dark December night 36 years ago, a Lockheed 1011 jumbo jet crashed into the Florida Everglades, killing over 100 people. This terrible accident was one of the deadliest crashes in the history of the United States.
A curious thing about this accident is that all vital parts and systems of the airplane were functioning perfectly—the plane could have easily landed safely at its destination in Miami, only 20 miles (32km) away.
During the final approach, however, the crew noticed that one green light had failed to illuminate—a light that indicates whether or not the nose landing gear has extended successfully. The pilots discontinued the approach, set the aircraft into a circling holding pattern over the pitch-black Everglades, and turned their attention toward investigating the problem.
They became so preoccupied with their search that they failed to realize the plane was gradually descending closer and closer toward the dark swamp below. By the time someone noticed what was happening, it was too late to avoid the disaster.
After the accident, investigators tried to determine the cause. The landing gear had indeed lowered properly. The plane was in perfect mechanical condition. Everything was working properly—all except one thing: a single burned-out lightbulb. That tiny bulb—worth about 20 cents—started the chain of events that ultimately led to the tragic death of over 100 people.
Of course, the malfunctioning lightbulb didn’t cause the accident; it happened because the crew placed its focus on something that seemed to matter at the moment while losing sight of what mattered most.

Consider the difference made by a shift in approach. Phil had regularly commanded my dad off the porch when the proposal was "Phil, you need the Church." But when the pitch was "Phillip, the Church needs you" , instantly he said yes.
What if Latter-day Saints began to ask those who aren't committed members of the Church, "could you please help me solve this problem?"  What might happen if you were a Primary teacher, and you called up a friend who is not a member of the Church to ask "I teach a class of 9-year-olds at our church. They're bouncing off the walls when I try to teach them. In two weeks I've got to teach them one of the most important lesson of their lives about the Good Samaritan. You are the best example of a good Samaritan I have ever known. Is there any way you can help me prepare and teach a great lesson on the Good Samaritan to these kids?" You know that your friend will be delighted to help you - and when she does, she will be able to feel the spirit, just like you can feel the spirit. Often, she will then realize that despite her prosperity there has been something missing in her life - and want to learn more.
Here's another example. Several times I had asked a friend, Paul, to come to our home to meet with the missionaries, each time explaining why I felt Paul would find our church to be interesting. Paul declined each invitation. Then a new missionary who needed to learn to teach the missionary lessons came into our ward. Rather than arranging for this elder to practice teaching the lessons to members, I asked Paul if he would let this missionary practice teaching the lessons to him." Sure," Paul responded." I'd be happy to." I urged Paul to be obstreperous, and told the missionaries that Paul had signed up simply to help them become better teachers and had no interest in the church. I went to the first practice session to be sure things went as planned. At the end of the lesson the missionary finished the rehearsal by handing Paul and his wife a copy of the Book of Mormon and asking, "Will you read this book?"  To our great surprise they accepted it and said they would. They did, and were baptized. When my invitation centered on how the church would interest them, Paul wasn't interested. But Paul said "Sure"  when I asked him for help.
God has not restricted to active members of the LDS Church the right to feel the Spirit. Those who are not members of our church, or those that are less active, can feel the same Spirit as we feel, if we just give them the chance to lose their lives for the sake of the gospel. The Yorktown NY Stake concluded, as the result of this observation, that the ward mission plans of each ward in the stake would focus members on inviting people who were not members to join with them in serving in the church. This stake covers some of the wealthiest communities in the world - and the number of people baptized into the church put the stake as the top stake in the mission in baptisms, whereas previously it always had been the lowest.