Gospel Story Finder

As I pray for the Lord to open my eyes to see things I might not normally see, I often ask myself two questions and pay attention to the impressions that come: “What am I doing that I should stop doing?” and “What am I not doing that I should start doing?”

Months ago, during the sacrament, I asked myself these questions and was surprised by the impression that came. “Stop looking at your phone when you are waiting in lines.” Looking at my phone in lines had become almost automatic; I found it a good time to multitask, catch up on email, look at headlines, or scroll through a social media feed.

The next morning, I found myself waiting in a long line at the store. I pulled out my phone and then remembered the impression I had received. I put my phone away and looked around. I saw an elderly gentleman in line ahead of me. His cart was empty except for a few cans of cat food. I felt a little awkward but said something really clever like, “I can see you have a cat.” He said that a storm was coming, and he did not want to be caught without cat food. We visited briefly, and then he turned to me and said, “You know, I haven’t told anyone this, but today is my birthday.” My heart melted. I wished him a happy birthday and offered a silent prayer of thanks that I had not been on my phone and missed an opportunity to truly see and connect with another person who needed it.

For Sarah and Cristina, prayer is a part of every audition. “I pray before and after every audition,” Sarah says. “I pray for help that the director will remember me when casting. I also say, ‘Help me to get the part if I’m meant for it; help me to understand why if I don’t get it.’”

Cristina remembers many prayers offered as a family when Sarah was auditioning for Promised Land. “We prayed for a long time together as a family. We didn’t want to do it if it might have a negative effect on the family. We really wanted Sarah to have this opportunity if it would bless our family and if we would be able to bless others. And I think it has.”

Luckily, Promised Land is filmed in Utah, and Sarah has found time to lead a somewhat normal life. “It’s been incredibly hard,” Sarah says, “But it’s actually worked out very well. On my days off I can go to school with my friends. If I have a late call [movie lingo for filming a show later in the day], I go to school in the morning, and if I have an early call and wrap early, then I go to school later. I have my weekends off to be with my friends and with my family on Sunday.”

There was the Relief Society leader with whom we had been discussing visiting teaching. We talked about contacting those for whom we had responsibility. At one point she began to speak, almost apologetically. “Oh, Sister, you know that none of us in the branch have telephones. So we have to ask Heavenly Father if anyone needs us.” She illustrated with many examples. She would pray in the morning, asking if anyone needed her; frequently she would receive a strong impression that she should visit one of the members; sometimes she would even feel strongly about taking food or something else. And I wondered how many times I had let the telephone interfere with that pure form of communication. …
One time as we talked about good nutrition, a sweet mother from the Philippines spoke to me. “You know, Sister, I don’t have enough money to buy all the things I’d like. So before I go to the market, I kneel and ask Heavenly Father to help me spend my few pesos wisely and buy the things that will be best for my family. As I bring home my food, I again ask him to help me prepare it properly. And then, Sister, when it is time for us to eat, we know we can ask Heavenly Father to bless our food—to help us be strong and healthy with what we have been able to buy and fix.” And I thought of how many times a blessing on the food had been for me but a signal to eat. …
There was the group of Relief Society women in Central Java who would each save a spoonful of rice in the morning before they began cooking for the day. They’d put that spoonful, each day, in a plastic bag; then on Saturday they would bring their bags with them to Relief Society. If anyone was ill or had not been attending church for some time, all the sisters would walk together following the meeting to visit her. And they would take some of the rice to share. I’ve learned much about service and consecration from such examples.
I was serving in Indonesia when the Book of Mormon was first translated and printed in that language. During that time I had an inkling of what it must have been like for Joseph Smith and others when they were finally able to give so many others the privilege of reading the book. One of my local companions, an Indonesian sister from the city of Solo, slept with her copy right beside her.
The chance to share the gospel sometimes came in unexpected ways. This happened once in Taiwan. Without any previous language training, I was struggling daily to learn Mandarin Chinese. Tracting provided the thrill of a lifetime—having someone answer the door when it was my turn to talk! How amazing it was to me those first few times that someone could actually understand some of my sounds!
Then one morning an American woman answered—totally unexpected. Her husband was in the Navy. We were caught off guard and were speechless. Finally she said, “Oh, you must be Mormon missionaries! Come on in—I used to be a Mormon.” And thus began a miracle.
Her husband wasn’t a member and she wasn’t active. A teenage son and daughter had been baptized but weren’t active at the time either. We had the privilege of switching from Mandarin to English and sharing the gospel with this great family. The father was eventually baptized, both children served missions, and now the father and mother are working in a temple. Who would have believed we would meet that wonderful American family in Tainan, Taiwan!
Through these and many other experiences, I have learned one of the great lessons of missionary work: I gained as much from others as they did from me. We all grew spiritually—we were teaching each other. I realized there is a need for all of us to be open to every chance to lift, help, teach, and strengthen one another … no matter where or when.

David Conrad makes a fine-looking dachshund out of an orange balloon. He can whip out a wiener dog in about 30 seconds. A twist here and a twist there. Voila!
Then there is Dan Christensen, who likes doing magic tricks, has built a gas-powered airplane, collects foreign money, and started the MHL, the Mormon Hockey League, in his neighborhood.
Andrew Willis sings. Baritone, in case you’re wondering. He also likes history and science, and he just graduated from high school.
But let’s be honest about this. We’re not writing about these guys because of dachshunds, deep voices, and disappearing rabbits. And, actually, they don’t want to talk about their hobbies. They’d rather discuss other areas of their lives.
Okay, David, take it away.
“At Christmastime, I got my entire ward together and we had a collection of toys and food for needy families in our ward and stake area. We had one gentleman in the ward dress up like Santa Claus, and I put on a red hat—I was Santa’s helper—and we went door to door delivering food and toys. When we knocked on the doors and said ‘It’s Santa Claus,’ the kids’ jaws dropped. They were so happy, all of them jumping around.”
Your turn, Dan.
“My sister Nicole volunteered at a hospital, and so I just followed after her when I was old enough. I like volunteering. I like helping people.”
And, finally, Andrew.
“My friends and I love to hang out with Peter and do stuff. We’ll always include Peter. We’ll go out in the car; we’ll rent a movie. Sometimes we’ll take Pete out with us to see a flick and get something to eat.”
Peter, Andrew’s 15-year-old brother, has Down’s syndrome.
“All my friends like to come to my house, and I like hanging around my family. We have a warm house, and my best friend has said that,” adds Andrew, whose thoughts about a warm house have nothing to do with the furnace.
And the stories don’t stop here.
Becky Altimirano, 18, worked with the Fraternal Order of Police and planned a Christmas party for handicapped children in her area.
“You can make a difference in someone’s life, and that’s what I felt,” she says. “I felt really good about it.”
So did Sarah Drinkwater, 16, after she finished a project similar to David’s. For many years her ward had collected food and toys during Christmas to give to needy families. But the youth never had an opportunity to meet the families receiving the assistance. When Sarah, a member of the Sewell Ward, was called as Mia Maid president, she decided to change things. She wanted the youth to meet the people they were serving.
“I wanted to do something for the people living in the battered women’s shelter, so we decided to have a party for them at the ward,” she says.
Before the day was over, women and their children had received gifts and food, and Sarah knew her idea was a good one. “You just can’t replace the personal contact. We had one-on-one contact, and each child was assigned a big sister or big brother from the Young Men and Young Women. We found out they are real people. It was just great.”
David, Dan, Andrew, Becky, and Sarah are all members of the Cherry Hill New Jersey Stake, and all of them, plus many others, are finding the time to make differences in their communities. As they do, they see the differences in their own lives.
In Medford, New Jersey, Kristin Feuz, 17, a member of the Medford Ward, noticed that Medford was celebrating its 150th anniversary in 1997, which coincided with the Church’s sesquicentennial celebration. So she went to work. Along with other members of her ward, she helped plant flowers and clean up several different areas in Medford.
Shall we go on?
Robert Bramhall affiliated himself with a postmen’s food drive, where mail carriers picked up nonperishable food. The food, which was taken to a Camden, New Jersey, food bank, then had to be sorted. That’s where Robert came in. He had helped do the same thing when Andrew was working on his Eagle Scout project, so he knew what he was doing.
“We had about 100 tons of food, and between everybody that helped, we put in more than 150 hours into the project. It gave me a good feeling to know that we were doing something that was going to affect so many people,” he says.
So what’s the deal? Why are all these young people, with busy lives of their own, taking so much time to do things for others?
“I’ve thought more about my brother this year than usual because of scripture mastery [in seminary],” Andrew says. “One scripture we did this year was the scripture in Matthew, the one that says ‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me’ (see Matt. 25:40). Every year there is something about service, and service has been on my mind more than it has before because it seems to be so stressed. I know that’s really important, to please God.”
“You know,” adds Dan, “how there’s that song ‘Because I Have Been Given Much’? (Hymns, no. 219). Well, I, too, must give. It’s my way of giving, other than tithing. Helping other people and seeing their reactions. It helps to strengthen my testimony to see the expressions on people’s faces when I’m serving them.”
Dan remembers the times when he wishes he could do more than answer phones, sort files, or distribute magazines and water to the hospital’s patients. “There are some people who really look like they are in pain, and there’s nothing I can do about it. What I do is worth it, though. If you can just help one person, that’s great.”
David, who calls himself “the balloon guy” and has business cards to prove it, shares many of Dan’s feelings.
He runs his own business working parties and making balloon animals to entertain children. David’s work provides a pretty good cash flow for somebody who wants to major in music in college and is preparing for a mission. “But I like to incorporate service and my work together. I was at this fund-raiser where I was doing balloons there for the kids. It was fun.” When asked, only then does he confess he volunteered his time and accepted no money.
“You get that good feeling of service,” he adds.
There you have it, a group of young people who have learned that service is important, and that stepping outside of their own needs and wants to influence others for good is a richly rewarding pursuit. Sure they’re busy, and they don’t have to do the things they do.
But since they began making time for others, they’ve learned something very important. They might like to sing, play hockey, and twist balloons into animals, but they love to serve.

Earlier this year I had the opportunity to participate in a sport that I suspect few, if any of you, have tried. Perhaps that is because you have more wisdom than I. The sport is skeleton, an Olympic event. In skeleton, you lie down on a sled on your stomach and go head first down the bobsled track with your face about 2 inches from the ice. As a first timer, you go about 60 miles an hour while pulling several G’s in many of the turns.

The first time I went, I felt mixed emotions: fear and terror. In reality it was a mix between exhilaration and survival. Within a few seconds, I had accelerated to almost 60 miles an hour, wondering if I had made a wise decision.

I had received some coaching in advance wherein I was told that since I was totally inexperienced, I should just act like a sack of potatoes and not move, look straight down at the ice in front of my face and hold on. As I rocketed down the track following this advice, I found myself banging into the sides of every turn on the way down – a very rough ride indeed. The end of the ride would never come quickly enough.

After gliding past the finish line, I emerged from the track facing the eager question from a track employee, who also is a skeleton Olympian from Turkey, who asked, “How did you like it?” I quickly described what happened and asked for more coaching. He then told me to lift my head enough to look down the track and when I entered a turn, I should turn my head that direction, which would slightly shift my weight, putting me on a better line.

As I took the next run, I looked down the track to see where I was going and prepare for the upcoming corners. The feeling was very different: somewhat more intimidating to see how fast I was going, but with a greater sense of controlling my destiny. I quickly accelerated and approached the first corner. As I approached the left turn, I turned my head left and “swoosh!” I went cleanly through the corner. Beautiful! The only downside was that I went even faster. I approached the next corner, turned my head and “swoosh!” another clean corner. I was enjoying a great, clean run, until turn 14, which I took too high and ended up dropping down “bam” into the side of the track before crossing the finish line, much more thrilled with my run. It was truly an exhilarating experience.

I gained far more appreciation for the Olympians who take thousands of runs looking for every one-thousandth of a second that can make the difference between gold and silver.

As I reflect upon my three runs down the skeleton, it provides insight into a broader view on our mortal experience. Many times we are looking at what is immediately in front of us on a day to day basis, just like looking straight down at the ice. We may fail to look up, to “look down the track,” to have a longer view of where we are going. We can have a “cleaner run” through life, avoiding many of the bumps, bruises and pitfalls of not staying on track. We should strive to keep an eternal perspective in mind as we move through life’s varied experiences.

Let me give you a parable. A man built a beautiful home and furnished it with the very best of carpets, furniture, appliances, all that money could buy. Within its walls he kept his fine automobiles and his expensive jewelry.

Then, fearful of intruders who might enter and rob him, he had installed expensive dead-bolt locks so that he had to use a key to get out as well as to get in. He put bars on the windows and doors and was like a prisoner looking out of his own home, as one might do out of a jail. He installed costly electronic surveillance devices to turn on lights and set off sirens should any unwelcome intruder enter. He landscaped largely without trees or shrubbery so there would be no place for a thief to hide. And he smugly said to himself, “Now I am secure.”

But what he did not realize is that neither bars nor dead bolts, neither lights nor sirens nor anything of the kind would have the slightest effect on intruders of another variety who could destroy his life and the lives of his family. He found himself to be his own prisoner, locked in a cell of despair and misery. He allowed the Goliaths of his life to overpower him.

I distinctly remember trying to fall asleep on the top bunk in our studio apartment at the end of my first day with my new companion. She was a new missionary—a fireball for sure—and I was her terrified, inexperienced trainer.
I was still a new missionary myself, and to say that I felt overwhelmed was an understatement. The task of navigating the downtown streets of our inner-city area on public transportation felt massive to me. The pressure to build our teaching pool and develop relationships with the members seemed overwhelming. And even though I did my best to make good decisions, my new companion and I often disagreed, and we struggled to get along. It seemed like we were polar opposites, and I became discouraged.
I wanted so badly to just be a good missionary. But things were not going the way I had imagined they would, and I was frustrated.
In the mornings when my companion was in the shower, I spent my alone time kneeling at the folding chair by my desk. One morning as I prayed, I pridefully expressed to Heavenly Father that I couldn’t help but feel that my companion was holding me back from being the missionary I wanted to be.
Then came the humbling epiphany I wasn’t expecting: My companion was not holding me back from being the missionary God wanted me to be. In actuality, being her companion was helping me become the missionary He wanted me to be.
The imperfections and challenges I was facing, though frustrating, were not holding me back. They were helping me to change and grow and progress—not in the way I wanted for myself, but in the way God wanted for me.

A pair of sister missionaries trudged the streets of a city in northern Spain. On that gray, rainy day, no one showed an interest in their message. As the two neared the city park, Sister Silvia Golithon noticed that most of the people in front of them were women. She felt the whisperings of the Spirit tell her, “These are your sisters.” She later wrote of the event, “A feeling of light entered my mind.” She recorded that the Spirit helped her more clearly understand the worldwide sisterhood found in the gospel of Jesus Christ.

After joining the Church, what Edwin wanted most was for his family back in India to learn about the gospel. The problem was that there were no missionaries in India to teach them! Edwin and Elsie wrote a letter to Church headquarters asking them to send missionaries to India.
What came next was a big surprise. President Spencer W. Kimball called them to serve as missionaries in India!
And now, here they were.
Their first stop in India was Edwin’s brother’s house. Edwin’s parents and siblings were there too. Right away, Edwin and Elsie started teaching them. Their family was happy to learn about the gospel.
A few weeks later, Edwin and his family gathered around the swimming pool in his brother’s yard. The pool had been cleaned, painted, and filled with fresh water. Everyone was wearing white. The women wore flowing saris that draped over their shoulders. The men wore loose Indian-style jackets and trousers.
Edwin stood in the pool with his father. “Samuel David,” Edwin said, “having been commissioned of Jesus Christ, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”
Edwin felt happy as he baptized his father. He felt even happier when he baptized his mom next. By the end of the day, Edwin had baptized 18 people!
The next day, Edwin and Elsie rode a train for six hours. They visited more family members and taught them about the gospel. Edwin baptized four more of his relatives in a nearby river.
Finally, Edwin and Elsie took a 16-hour train ride to visit Elsie’s parents. Elsie’s father was a leader in another church. He didn’t get baptized, but he thought the Book of Mormon was a good book. He helped translate the Book of Mormon into Telugu, one of the languages spoken in India.
When Edwin and Elsie finished their mission, there were enough new members to start one of the first branches of the Church in India! Edwin and Elsie were happy when they returned to Samoa. They were grateful Heavenly Father had sent them on a mission!

My girl friend used to be very in tune with and enthusiastic about the gospel. But recently she’s been going out with people who have different standards than the Church teaches, and as a result she’s doing things that aren’t good for her. She isn’t attending Mutual and has started drinking and dating boys with bad reputations. I wrote her a letter, telling her how much I love her and the gospel, and I asked her if there is anything I can do. She wrote back saying she knows that what she is doing is wrong. Yet, she keeps doing it. Her family is really strong in the Church. They are trying to help her, but it’s not working. This problem is tearing her apart, and it’s hurting me as well. What should I do?
“When a young person is confused and not living the correct standards, she is in need of love and understanding from those who are around her, especially her friends and family. ‘A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity’ (Prov. 17:17). You mustn’t leave her alone to face the world in this troubled time of her life. A kind and strong hand can help lead her out of despair and back into the happy and secure life of the Church. The important thing is that she realizes she is doing wrong. Someday she may realize how unhappy her life really is and do something about it. That final decision must be her own. For now you can be a friend and pray for her to have the strength to see through the dark into the light of the gospel.”
Barbara LordsAberdeen, Idaho
“Oh, boy! Does this situation sound familiar. This last year one of my close friends fell into this same situation. It was hurting me and her and everyone else involved, and it seemed that we had tried everything to help her. Then one night as I was praying for her, the idea came to hold a special fast for her. We contacted everyone who knew her and informed them of this special fast. Then after the fast we set a goal to be especially kind and loving to this girl (but not in an over-obvious way). Eventually, with the help of all these people and her family, this girl came back into the Church.
“The only advice I can give is to try what we tried. Pray and fast for her and constantly, by your actions, reassure her that she is loved. Don’t condemn her but follow the advice in 3 Nephi 18:23–24.” [3 Ne. 18:23–24]
Sherry StottBynum, Montana
“In our highly materialistic society, it’s easy to become caught up in the ‘worldly pleasures’ that are allowed to dominate in others’ lives. It is distressing when this happens to someone close to us, especially when he or she acknowledges his wrongdoing.
“As a friend you can help by continuing to show concern. Be an example and an encouragement. Invite her to join in Mutual, and in time, I’m sure she’ll come to realize that nothing can replace the gospel’s true teachings.
“Paul said that we walk by faith, not by sight. Faith is expressed in living so that our actions reflect our belief. Through consistent prayer and example, you can help lead her home, just as the lost sheep was found.
“‘Likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance’ (Luke 15:7).”
Cathy PiperHemel Hempstead, Hertfordshire, England
“Before you can really help her, you must truly love her. The Lord requires a great sacrifice from us when we have a special feeling for others. He requires that we do more than express our love and feelings for the gospel through letters or other one-time attempts. Not to say that these efforts aren’t important, but show her through consistent action what your true feelings are for her. Treat her as though she were active, and soon she will assume the confidence she needs. Change comes by example and practice. Show her by your example what the gospel can do to change lives. Only then will she really desire to change. Remember who you are first, be accepting of her, and then the Spirit of the Holy Ghost will help her to change her life.”
Debbie MitchellEl Dorado Springs, Missouri
“Your problem is not as uncommon as you might think. Coming from a community where Mormons are a minority, I have faced the same problem.
“Sometimes the reason a person becomes associated with people of different standards is because no one with the same standards will take time to be her friend. We can get so wrapped up in our own problems that we don’t realize that our friends need help.
“All you can do is be her friend. A letter is a great idea, but perhaps just a little impersonal. Wouldn’t a phone call, or better yet a personal visit to your friend, be better? Let her know that you’re concerned about what’s happening to her. Call her and offer her a ride to Mutual. Take action against the problem. Don’t expect her to do it all by herself.”
Dana ReidRedwood City, California
“Somewhat the same circumstance happened to a very dear friend of mine. The solution I have found is simply to love her, to accept her, and to be there with a kind, listening ear. That is what builds a divine friendship. To love one another is God’s simple plan, and it really works. One thing you must always remember is that everyone has his own agency to choose how he wishes to live.
“I guess all you can do is wait, and pray, and realize for your own life how great the Church really is. My dear friend is now very active in the Church and will soon hold callings in it. One last word would be, ‘People take time.’”
Jane Alice KinserNorwalk, California
“The worry of rebellious children is no new concern; even the son of the prophet Alma in Book of Mormon times was led astray and was held for a time in Satan’s grasp. Much faith and many prayers pleading for his return to the faith were offered by both parents and friends.
“Of course, all wandering youth don’t have such a miraculous turnabout, but consider for a moment the teaching of Solomon, son of King David, found in Proverbs 22:6 [Prov. 22:6]: ‘Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.’ You must steadfastly continue your prayers, friendship, and good influence on this friend, and surely some day, after the rebellious streak has taken its course, your friend will find sorrow in her actions and return to the principles that she knows to be correct.”
Carol ShurtzBountiful, Utah
“While we are responsible to set a good example and strive always to encourage and uplift our fellowmen, all children of our Father in Heaven have been given agency to choose for themselves between right and wrong. Even though our desires for a person may be for their benefit, we cannot make their decisions for them.
“I experienced a similar situation several years ago. I befriended a person to try and help him, and I associated regularly with him. Although I feel I helped him, I ended up having a lot of problems, which I brought upon myself. It was a hard and painful road back.
“The best thing to do is set a good example and love and encourage her, but do not allow yourself to be adversely affected by her choices. Do what you know is right, and even though it may not help right now, sometime in the future, this girl will look back and say, ‘He was so happy and at peace. What am I doing wrong?’”
Elder Don PattersonKorea Seoul Mission
“When a person is interested in reconforming her life to meet the gospel standards, she is often frightened and reluctant for fear of rejection by active Church members. Satan is also very active in telling her she is already past hope, so why try to repent. This can be convincing to a heart that feels both confused and guilty.
“The best you can do is to let your friend know that you and others love her and that Heavenly Father loves her, too. I suggest that you call her and offer to take her to Mutual yourself, then treat her as if she were still active.
“Talk to her leaders in Mutual—her class president, adviser, and Young Women president—and ask for their help and prayers. If she turns down your offer, respect her free agency, but don’t give up. Just keep offering her a ride. And keep remembering her in your prayers.”
Mary Ann StoutRome, New York
“To help your girl friend, you must exercise your faith and prayers. You can ask her family to do the same. You must ask our Father in Heaven to help you to know what to say to your friend and how to say it so it will affect her. Don’t overwhelm her with lectures, or she will drop you and cut off communication. Pray for help and guidance and remember to let your light so shine that men may see your good works (see Matt. 5:16).
“You must set an example for her to follow. If you are strong and she is sincere about returning to the Church, she will follow what you do. You must pull her forward; don’t push from behind. She is watching you, so set the right kind of example.”
Kathy BellistonProvo, Utah

May I share with you an experience or two that I’ve had. Several years ago I was called to the Primary Children’s Medical Center to see a nine-year-old boy. Three days before, he had complained to his parents of headache and not feeling well. They had noted that his little body was hot; he had a fever. For three days they watched and waited and hoped that he would recover, but he became increasingly sick. On the day he was brought to the hospital he had lapsed into unconsciousness, and the family realized for the first time how really sick he was. At the hospital he was examined by the doctors. The laboratory tests and the X rays were done. Then, because bacterial or spinal meningitis was suspected, a little needle was put into his back so that they could obtain a sample of spinal fluid to make an examination. As that fluid came out through the hollow hub of the needle, instead of being crystal clear like spring water, it was cloudy. When the fluid was examined under the microscope, one could see the pus cells and the bacteria. Yes, indeed, he was critically ill with bacterial meningitis.

That evening as I left that little boy in his room—unconscious, blood pressure falling, intravenous fluids started, massive doses of penicillin being infused through the intravenous fluids—I had serious doubts that he would survive. I had doubts, if he did survive, that he would ever be normal.

Walking down the hall, I met that little boy’s mother and father. The father said, “Doctor Mason, will you assist us in administering to our boy?” So I went back into that room. There the father and I exercised our priesthood in behalf of the little fellow. The father anointed his son and then asked me if I would seal the anointing and give a blessing. As we laid our hands upon that little boy, the Spirit of the Holy Ghost whispered to me, “Promise him he will recover. Promise him he’ll have no aftereffects of this infection.” And so in the name of Jesus Christ and by the power of the holy Melchizedek Priesthood that I held, I promised that boy that he would be healed. I promised him that he would have no aftereffects. As I left that room the second time that evening (even though earlier I had had grave doubts), after that manifestation of the Spirit, I had an assurance that was much surer than medical science or previous experience. I knew that he would live. And indeed, he did. His recovery was uneventful and complete.

Recently, due to a job change, my wife, youngest two sons, and I moved from the United States to England. What an adventure!
Unsure of what to expect, we found a quaint, comfortable home to lease in a quiet neighborhood that is perfect for us. The house is cozy and gives us a peaceful place to live, laugh, and learn together. Everything about it is just right … except the refrigerator.
“It’s the size of a shoebox!” was only a slight exaggeration from our youngest son. “I’ve seen bigger fridges in dorm rooms” was an accurate comment. This keep-your-food-cold baby is a whopping 2.5 feet (.75 m) tall and 1.6 feet (.5 m) wide—with only 44 liters of space. It took me a while to recognize what that meant.
For an active household of four people, we eat a lot of food each week. So it was an adjustment to adapt to a fridge the size of a laundry basket.
The nearest grocery store is 1.2 miles (2 km) away. It’s a pleasant walk through the neighborhood. To go to the store and back is generally a commitment of just over an hour.
At first, the novelty of walking to the store was intriguing. Finding the way and seeing the sights provided a chance to experience the area. That interest quickly wore down, and replenishing our fridge became a “One, two, three, not it!” activity.
For some time, I found myself making this trek with minor irritation. Grumble. Grumble. “We didn’t have to do this when we had a fridge the size of a Cadillac!”
My attitude changed one fateful week.
Monday, we needed milk. Before heading to the store, I asked my youngest son if he wanted to go with me. To my delight (and moderate surprise), he agreed. We spent that hour walking and talking. I learned things from him about a video game he likes that I never even thought to ask about. We had a great time together.
Tuesday, I forgot to get apples the day before. Our second youngest son was just finishing a task, and I caught him off guard: “I’m just headed to the store. Want to come?” Sure enough, he agreed! That hour went by very quickly as we walked together while discussing a well-known artist and his career path along with my son’s similar interests and artistic journey. Best time spent all day.
Wednesday, we all had a craving for ice cream—but no ice cream. Solution? A family walk to the store. Talking as we walked there and back as a family was definitely a wholesome recreational activity.
Thursday, we were out of eggs (plus we needed bamboo skewers for a school project). “Well, Son, it is your project, but I’ll come with you to the store as long as you help me remember to get the eggs.” This time, an hour spent telling math jokes and learning what was happening at school was exactly what I needed.
Saturday, the day to get ready for Sunday, my sweetheart kindly agreed to a “shopping date” that morning. So we went off to the store for the usual: milk, bread, fruit, a meal for Sunday, and a few treats. Our walk together was a highlight of the week for me. Being with my wonderful wife while sharing thoughts and ideas about our family, the future, and our lives was a treasure.
After the week of the five trips to the store, my perspective changed quite a bit. I managed to see the blessing of time spent together with my family doing the small, simple things of life. As a result, great things have been brought to pass. (See Alma 37:6.)
I have a closer connection with my sons, and my relationship with my wife has grown stronger. The necessity of these trips has given me focused time to walk and talk with my family. That opportunity always existed, but I did not think to take advantage of that precious time until forced to by the inconvenience of a small fridge.
We have loved it here in the United Kingdom with wonderful people, historic sites, lovely places, and a chance-of-a-lifetime to experience this part of the world. At times we still miss our van-sized refrigerator in the United States. However, our family has grown closer together as we find the positive through our challenges—as small as they may be.
I never thought I would say this, but I am grateful for small refrigerators!
The author lives in Gloucester, England.

One of the guidelines in For the Strength of Youth states: “Through your dress and appearance, you can show the Lord that you know how precious your body is. You can show that you are a disciple of Jesus Christ.”
After studying these words, one young woman realized that perhaps some of her clothes were not completely modest. Through prayer and study of the scriptures, she was reminded that she was a disciple of Jesus Christ and that, as His representative, she needed to make some changes. She didn’t want to have anything in her wardrobe that was a temptation, so she went through her closet and drawers and got rid of anything that wasn’t modest. She said, “I would be smart if I didn’t even try on anything in stores that I knew I shouldn’t wear. Why be tempted?” That firm resolve showed the Lord that she respected her body, and she drove down a deep stake for modesty.

Elizabeth Beardall’s sister Charlotte has recently died of scarlet fever. When Elizabeth falls ill, her parents summon Latter-day Saint missionaries who have been preaching in their town in England. The elders give Elizabeth a blessing in which they make four promises. The first is that Elizabeth will recover, which she immediately does. The second is that she will accept the gospel and be baptized.
Christmas was coming, and Elizabeth could hardly wait. Her excitement wasn’t for the gifts that Father Christmas would bring, nor for her eighth birthday on the day after Christmas. She was excited because on the day after her birthday she would be baptized into God’s true Church.
Grandmother Beardall smiled as the family sat down to dinner. “Look at Elizabeth,” she said. “She’s glowing like a crystal! Is it Christmas or birthday wishes that dance in your head, my dear?”
“Neither,” Elizabeth answered without thinking. She remembered too late that Grandmother wasn’t supposed to know about the baptism.
“Neither?” Grandmother sounded puzzled. “How can it be neither? Tell us, child. What excites you so?”
Elizabeth studied the pattern on her china plate and didn’t answer.
Grandmother frowned and turned to look at Father. “Someone told me they saw you associating with those wicked Mormons, Francis. I assured them it was not true. Can you give me the same assurance?”
Elizabeth thought of Elder Chase and Elder Canon and all the other good people in the Church. “They are not wicked, Grandmother!” she blurted out.
Grandmother turned pale. “So it is true,” she said softly.
“Mother, we have found God’s true Church,” Elizabeth’s father said gently. “We are being baptized at the end of the month.”
Grandmother sat stiff and straight. “The children too?”
“Ellen and Frank are too young,” Mother replied. “But Elizabeth is old enough to decide for herself, and as you have seen, she can hardly wait.”
Grandmother took out her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “You have broken my heart, Francis, and brought disgrace on your family. I would rather have followed you to your grave than see you join that despised church. If you join with those people, you are no longer my son, but I would not lose my beloved granddaughter.” She turned to Elizabeth. “If you really have a choice in this matter, I beg you not to be baptized but come and live with me. I promise that you will never want for anything as long as you live.”
Elizabeth didn’t know what to say. She loved her grandmother very much, but she also wanted to be baptized. Later, as Mother tucked her into bed, Elizabeth asked, “Why doesn’t Grandmother want us to join God’s true Church?”
“She doesn’t believe that it is the true church,” Mother said, “and she has the right to choose.”
“But what should I do? If I do what Grandma wants will Heavenly Father understand? Will He know that I still believe the Church is true?”
“He knows your heart, Elizabeth, but sometimes faith is more than just believing. It is trusting God and doing the right thing even when it’s hard. But you also have the right to choose. It’s your decision if or when you are baptized.”
In the busy days that followed, Elizabeth put aside the decision as she worked on Christmas presents for her family. But as she pushed cloves into a pomander ball for Grandmother, Elizabeth knew she could give a gift that would make Grandmother much happier. She could agree to live with her.
On Christmas Eve Elizabeth’s family was enjoying their plum pudding when the doctor came to call. “I have just come from tending Mrs. Beardall,” he told Father. “She is not serious, but asks that you come see her.”
Father reached for his coat. “I’ll take Elizabeth,” he said. “That will cheer her.”
Grandmother was in bed propped on her pillows. “How are you?” Father asked, taking her hand.
“My old body is wearing out,” Grandmother said. “I am in great need of a strong youth to assist me.” She looked at Elizabeth. “Well, dear? What is your decision? Will you come help me in my time of need?”
Elizabeth hesitated. Seeing her grandmother in bed reminded her of the night three years earlier when she herself lay dying.
“I love you, Grandmother,” Elizabeth said, “and I will do what I can to help you. But God has given me special promises and one of them was that I would join the true Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He cannot keep His promises unless I do my part. So I have decided to be baptized with my parents.”
As soon as Elizabeth spoke these words, joy filled her heart. She knew she had made the right decision.
Coming up in next month’s Friend, read about the third promise from Elizabeth’s blessing in “Part 3: Elizabeth Alone.”
“We follow the Savior by entering the waters of baptism and receiving a remission of our sins, by receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost and allowing that influence to inspire, instruct, guide, and comfort us.”Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, “‘Follow Me,’” Ensign, May 2002, 16–17.

When Elder and Sister Bednar were married, they consistently had family prayer, scripture study, and family home evening with their three sons. Sometimes things did not go well, and Elder and Sister Bednar wondered if their efforts were worthwhile. Now and then during scripture study there were outbursts such as, “He’s touching me!” “Make him stop looking at me!” and “Mom, he’s breathing my air!” Family prayers were sometimes interrupted with giggling and poking. And family home evening lessons were not always calm with three active, noisy boys.
But they kept trying.
Because they were consistent and kept trying, Elder and Sister Bednar’s family and their love for one another grew stronger. Their family learned together and felt the Spirit in their home because of the small things they did that matter so much.

Daniel Jacobs, who recently returned from his mission to Tallahassee, Florida, remembers being part of the original temple-going group. Even though he sometimes had to get up early to go, he never thought of it as a sacrifice. “How could it be a sacrifice when we felt so good doing it? All we had to do was wake up, and we had all the energy we needed,” he remembers. “It was a powerful lesson to me—that making time for the gospel is not a matter of convenience. You show your devotion to the Lord by putting His work first, and He blesses you with the strength to do it.”
He says that lesson helped him endure the challenges he faced on his mission. “When things were hard, I would think back to that experience and put more effort into serving the Lord. I know He will support me as I do His work.”

In 2012, I was part of a sailing trip from Tahiti to Hawaii. The trip took almost 20 days. Before setting out, our crew trained hard to prepare for anything. But even with all our training, we hit a storm that was unlike anything I had experienced before. The sky was dark, and rain came down hard as the wind whipped through the air. Fear crept into my heart as I thought about the unknown. But then, I remembered a priesthood blessing my father had given me before I left. He blessed me that I would be safe and watched over. I also knew that my family would be praying for my safety. Holding onto that blessing and the prayers of my family brought me a sense of calm, and I knew that whatever came, we would make it through.

The storm eventually passed, and we continued our journey to Hawaii, grateful and a little wiser. This experience reminded me that we must regularly assess where we are and keep our focus on where we’re headed, especially when challenges arise. Sometimes, it’s only by taking a step back and looking with an eternal perspective that we gain the peace and strength to move forward.

What took a short six months to destroy took years to rebuild. For the next full year I worked very hard to prove to the good kids that I was one of them. Every time I thought I had succeeded my past would come back to haunt me.
The summer after I was in tenth grade our girls’ church basketball team won the regional play-offs. We would be going to the area play-offs 1,000 miles away. We would be traveling with the boys’ team that won the regionals. I couldn’t believe what my coach said about me after that trip. She said that when we left home she had been sure she’d be sending me home early. After all she’d heard about me, she was just sure that I would get into some kind of trouble. She said she was surprised and pleased to discover that I was the best-behaved girl on the trip. I couldn’t believe it! I realized people were still judging me by the friends I’d had over a year ago. I’d never done any of the things people were saying I’d done in the past, but because of the people I’d associated with, the places I’d been seen, and the way I had dressed, everyone assumed I’d done the same awful things my friends had! I was guilty by association. Everywhere I went people were watching, testing me, judging me—all because of some choices I’d made in the past. It was so unfair, yet something I had to live with. You can’t fix a ruined reputation overnight.

Riley and Ted were not only frightened when they heard voices and saw the light from flashlights darting about at the Indian digging grounds, they were angry too.
Grandfather had never plowed nor planted the south slope because he had discovered that the area was the site of an ancient Indian village. For many years he had tried to preserve the land even though he was poorer because of the loss of crops he might have raised there.
As a boy Grandfather had found a number of arrowheads and pieces of flint-edged tools on the slope. When he was older he had written many letters trying to interest scientists into exploring the area. Finally, a university archaeology team became interested in excavating the slope.
After a preliminary investigation, they had sent several crews of students to work under the direction of two experienced archaeologists. As various layers of earth were carefully stripped away, the teams became excited when they discovered that more than one ancient civilization had occupied the slope at different times.
Every arrowhead and fragment of bone or clay pot had to be tagged as they were removed so that the separate cultures could be studied. And now, looters were endangering the project!
The students and professors went home on weekends and Grandpa had gone to town to deliver a load of grain. He had not yet returned and Riley and Ted were the only ones left to protect the ancient site. They wondered how they could possibly stop the looters.
“If only we had a telephone, we could call the police,” Ted suggested as he watched the looters’ light.
“But we don’t have one, so there’s no use iffing,” Riley said. “Maybe I could slip through the trees and try to see who the thieves are while you run over to Mr. Howard’s and have him call the sheriff.”
“Okay, Riley,” Ted murmured uneasily, “but be careful. They might be armed.”
“I’ll be careful,” Riley assured him and then continued, “Lots of people have come to watch the digging, but I’ve noticed it’s Jim White and his friends who keep asking Professor Jackson how much money a war club or spearhead is worth. Maybe they’re the looters. They wouldn’t care about reconstructing history. They’d only want to find a two-dollar arrowhead or a bone knife they could sell. Wouldn’t it be great if some Indian ghosts showed up to haunt them? I’ll bet we’d see some hard-running thieves take off then!”
“Yes,” Ted said quietly as an idea began to form in his mind. That would beat running all the way to the Howard’s, he thought. But he didn’t mention it to his older brother who had already disappeared into the trees.
Grandfather had left a wide wooded area between the excavation site and his cultivated land that provided cover for Riley as he climbed the slope. Three-fourths of the way up the hill he stopped. The flashlights had converged on the canvas-covered area where boxes of tagged artifacts were stored before being taken to the university. It was Jim White and his friends all right. One of the lights passed over Jim’s face as he used a rock to hammer at the lock on a toolbox.
“Take the shovels and dig like crazy all along the trenches where those students work with tiny brushes and metal picks,” Jim ordered. “Don’t bother with junk like fragments. We just want stuff we can sell. We’ll show Professor Jackson how to grub out Indian relics!”
Riley felt sick as he thought of the slow, painstaking work of the students. They knelt in cramped positions for hours, hardly noticing the hot sun as they brushed soil away from a potsherd. And he was helpless to prevent the destruction of months of hard work!
Not only was he outnumbered, but the looters were much bigger than Riley. When the sheriff arrested them he could identify all the looters, but that wouldn’t restore the relics Grandpa had protected for so many years.
Suddenly Riley’s breath caught in his throat and he felt the hair stir on the back of his neck as an eerie moan sounded in the darkness. A voice rose and fell in angry waves but Riley couldn’t distinguish any words. In a few seconds he realized it was drifting down from the summit of the hill and not from the young men who had frozen in a huddle around the battered toolbox.
Riley shuddered and his heart began to thud like a tom-tom when Jim’s flashlight picked out a figure coming down the slope. It was an Indian dressed in a loin cloth and an elaborate war bonnet, astride a brown horse! His bronze skin glistened in the dim ray of light.
“A ghost! He’s gotta be a ghost!” someone shouted. No one took time to argue about it. The terrified group broke up and ran off in all directions, leaving behind any thoughts of looting.
Riley ran too, going as fast as he dared down the steep slope. He had never believed in spooks, but he was convinced he had just seen his first! And his last, too, he hoped.
“Wait a minute!” Riley gasped, tripping over a log and rolling against a tree. “That horse looked exactly like Grandpa’s Benjo! And the war bonnet is the one I wore in the Thanksgiving Day play at school!
“It worked, Riley! It worked! They thought I was a real Indian ghost!” Ted cried, as he caught up with Riley. “You said you wished a ghost would scare them away, so I rubbed brown shoe polish all over myself and got your old school costume out of the trunk. Did you see the way they took off? I guess those guys were really scared.”
“Yes, they were,” Riley agreed. Then with a sheepish grin he added, “And you had me fooled for a minute too.”

Nearly every week I attend a stake conference somewhere in the world, so I am not able to attend the Gospel Doctrine class in my ward where the Book of Mormon is being taught this year. It really pained me to miss this privilege of catching the spirit of this very sacred other testament that Jesus is the Christ. So my wife and I set a goal to study the Book of Mormon at home. We determined to finish the 1984 course of study for the Gospel Doctrine class before this April general conference. We began in January; and on Monday, March 12, we finished the last of the forty-six lessons of the Book of Mormon course. It really felt good to accomplish this goal.