Gospel Story Finder

I had a sweet experience with a darling young woman who asked a very sincere question: “Sister Craven, how do you know that anything about the Church is true? Because I feel nothing.”
Before jumping to an answer, I first asked her some questions. “Tell me about your personal scripture study.”
She replied, “I don’t read the scriptures.”
I asked, “What about with your family? Do you study Come, Follow Me together?”
She said, “No.”
I asked about her prayers: “What do you feel when you pray?”
Her answer: “I don’t pray.”
My response to her was simple: “If you want to know anything, you will have to do something.”
Isn’t that true with anything we want to learn or know? I invited my new friend to start doing the gospel of Jesus Christ: praying, studying, serving others, and trusting in the Lord. Conversion won’t come while doing nothing. It comes through the power of the Holy Ghost as we intentionally make an effort to know by asking, seeking, and knocking. It comes by doing.

Conversely, I think of LaRue and Louise Miller, my wife’s parents, who despite never having much by way of worldly possessions, chose to teach the pure doctrine of the restored gospel to their children and to live it every day of their lives. By so doing they have blessed their posterity with the fruits of the gospel and the hope of eternal life.
In their home they established a pattern where the priesthood was respected, where love and harmony were abundant, and where the principles of the gospel directed their lives. Louise and LaRue, side by side, demonstrated what it meant to live lives patterned after Jesus Christ. Their children could clearly see which of life’s currents would bring peace and happiness. And they chose accordingly. As President Kimball taught, “If we can create … a strong, steady current flowing toward our goal of righteous life, we and our children may be carried forward in spite of the contrary winds of hardship, disappointment, [and] temptations.”

Last October my mom told my siblings and me to listen to ward business that Sunday instead of drawing. So when sacrament meeting started, I paid close attention to the opening prayer and the hymn. Once that was over, the person conducting the meeting asked the bishop to stand up. Then he said the bishop was being released.
He asked my dad, who was first counselor at the time, to stand up. Then he announced that my dad was going to be the new bishop!
I was really worried that something about my dad would change drastically. I had always thought bishops were people who were formal and serious, most unlike my dad. That they had perfectly well-behaved kids who sat quietly on the bench every week. That was not my family.
But I realized that bishops aren’t men with perfect families. They aren’t men who are solemn and serious. They are men with the priesthood. Men with strong, good testimonies.
I don’t know why the Lord chose my dad to be the bishop, but I know that He has His reasons. And I know that my dad did change … but not into a stiff and serious man I didn’t know. I could tell his testimony grew.
And so did mine.

Let me give you an example. One evening a few years ago, I was interviewing adults for renewal of their temple recommends. A middle-aged woman came in for her interview. She had been married in the temple and was active in the Church all her life.
I sensed a deep sadness in her soul. As the interview progressed, I received a spiritual impression. I said to her, “Sister, I have the impression that you made a serious mistake when you were a teenager that you haven’t confessed to a priesthood leader. Would you be willing to tell me about it?”
She immediately began to cry. She told me that was true, but she had always felt too embarrassed to confess it to a bishop. As she confessed what she had done, she shared sufficient detail for me to make a determination of her worthiness.
The confession of her sin to a priesthood leader marked the end of her repentance process rather than the beginning. She had unnecessarily carried the burden and sorrow of that sin for more than 30 years.
Because she had completed the final step of repentance, her guilt was swept away. I would occasionally see her after the night of that interview. Her countenance became bright, and she was happy.
I want you to know that I do not remember her name. The Lord can remove such memories from bishops. What I do remember is that through confession to her priesthood leader, a middle-aged woman was relieved of feelings of guilt that she had carried far too many years.

Sasha twirled in her bright pink skirt. It was her favorite outfit to wear to church. And now it was time for her favorite part of church. Primary!
Sasha’s teacher was helping them learn the Articles of Faith. Today they were learning number 13. It was long! But Sister Banda said, “I know you can learn the first part. ‘We believe in being honest.’ Say it with me!”
“We believe in being honest,” said Sasha and the other kids.
Later that week, Sasha and her little brother, Alfred, were playing in the kitchen. “I’m bored,” Alfred said.
“Me too.” Then Sasha saw some eggs on the table. They looked fun to play with. “Hey, I have an idea. Let’s play a game!”
Sasha picked up an egg. “You stand on the other side of the table,” she said to Alfred. Then she rolled the egg across to him. Sasha and Alfred laughed. The egg was so wobbly!
“Your turn!” Sasha said.
Alfred rolled the egg back to her. But this time the egg didn’t roll straight. Instead, it curved and rolled right off the table. Splat! The egg crashed to the floor, making a goopy mess.
Alfred looked at Sasha with wide eyes. Then they both burst out laughing. “Let’s do it again!” he said.
Sasha grabbed another egg. “Catch it before it rolls off!” she said. She rolled the egg harder than she had before. Alfred missed it. Splat!
Alfred grabbed two more eggs. He rolled them faster. Sasha couldn’t stop them soon enough. Splat! Splat! Sasha and Alfred giggled some more.
Then Sasha heard Mum coming. Oh no! They were going to be in big trouble!
Sasha didn’t want Mum to be mad at them. Maybe they could make up a story. She could tell Mum they didn’t do it.
But then Sasha remembered the thirteenth article of faith. “We believe in being honest.”
“What happened?” Mum asked. She stared at the messy floor. “Who broke the eggs?”
Sasha took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mum. It was me and Alfred. We thought the eggs looked fun to play with. But it wasn’t a good idea. I’ll help clean up.”
“Me too,” Alfred said.
Mum gave Sasha and Alfred a hug. “Thanks for telling me the truth.”
Sasha smiled. Then she turned to Alfred. “Maybe we can make up a new game—about cleaning up!”
This story took place in Zambia.
What did Sasha do when Mum asked about the eggs?

One of the president’s sons gives this poignant insight into his father’s character and to the source of President Smith’s great inner strength:
“As children, so frequently we would hear him say, ‘If only the people in the world would understand the trials, the tribulations, the sins our Lord took upon himself for our benefit.’ Whenever he would refer to this, tears would come into his eyes.
“A few years ago, as I sat alone with my father in his study, I observed that he had been in deep meditation. I hesitated to break the silence, but finally he spoke. ‘Oh, my son, I wish you could have been with me last Thursday as I met with my Brethren in the temple. Oh, if you could have heard them testify of their love for their Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ!’ And then he lowered his head, and tears streamed from his face and dropped to his shirt. Then, after many seconds, without as much as raising his head, but moving his head back and forth, he said, ‘Oh, how I love my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!’”

Marta worked the pump handle one final time. Then she carried the grapefruit soda bottle full of water into the two-room house, located on the outskirts of a small coastal town in Uruguay. “The water’s awfully bitter today, Alicia,” Marta said, handing the bottle to her younger sister. “You’d better squeeze a lemon into it to freshen it.”
Alicia selected one of the wrinkled lemons from a bowl on the shelf, cut it in half, and the tingly aroma filled the room as she trickled the juice into the bottle of water. “We didn’t get any fresh bread today,” Alicia complained. “Can’t we buy some for dinner?”
“No, Alicia,” said Mama, turning slightly on her bed to face the girls. “The bread from yesterday will do fine if Marta toasts it, won’t it, Marta?”
“Yes, Mama.” Marta moved the kerosene burner they used for a stove into the middle of the room. “It’s getting dark, Mama, should I turn on the light?”
“Not yet, querida (dear). Wait until your father gets home.”
Marta cleared off the plank table that stood in the middle of the small room and began preparing supper. She mixed eggs and flour and shredded chard together. Alicia huddled close to the burner, warming her hands and watching Marta’s skillful hands pat the chard cakes into shape and place them into the frying pan to be warmed and browned. “Don’t fret so, Alicia, tomorrow we’ll go to the panadería (bakery) and buy the fresh crusty loaves you love.”
Alicia smiled at the thought of the large golden brown rolls the panadería baked fresh every morning. She glanced dreamily out the window just as her father entered the front gate. “Papa’s home!” she shouted gleefully.
Papa came into the house and gathered the girls into his arms and gave them each a kiss on the cheek. “And how have you been today? Have you taken good care of your mother?”
“They have been angels, as always,” Mama said as she took Papa’s hand.
Papa reached up and pulled the dangling string that turned on their only light. “And how is dinner coming?” he asked. “I’m very hungry!”
“It will be just a minute, Papa,” Marta said as she set out the plates and cups. Papa and the girls sat on the narrow bench and ate, facing the bed where Mama lay.
“When do you go to the doctor again?” Papa asked as he handed Mama her dinner plate.
“On Friday,” she replied. “It won’t be long now until the baby is ready to come.”
“This baby is having such problems in getting here that it will be all the stronger for having made it. But you must stay in bed as the doctor said,” Papa warned.
Just then someone clapped outside. Marta rose to go and welcome the visitor. “Wait, Marta,” her father said, “I’ll go. It’s starting to rain and I don’t want you to get wet.” He grabbed his jacket and held it over his head as he ran out to the front gate. “Hello, Omar!” he called. “Come in out of the storm.”
“No thank you, Daniel. I just came to tell you that the station manager called our house and left a message for you. He wants you to go back to work as soon as you can. Someone drove a car right through a railroad crossing barrier, and they need you to direct the traffic.”
Papa grimaced a little. “One day, Omar, we will get our own telephone and then you won’t have to be the one to always bring me the news.” Omar grinned, then hurried off down the muddy road toward his own home.
“Who was it?” Mama asked when Papa reentered the house.
“Omar. I have to go back to work.” He put on his jacket that was already shedding streams of rainwater and then topped it with a light plastic cape. “I’ll probably be all night. Keep the windows shut tight, Marta, and make certain that you stuff rags in the window jamb over Mama’s bed if the rain starts coming in.”
“Yes, Papa,” Marta answered. Papa kissed each one goodbye, grabbed an ancient umbrella from the corner of the room, and was gone.
Marta began heating water to wash the dishes, and Alicia sat on the bed next to her mother. “Can I do anything for you, Mama?”
“I’m fine, Alicia, but you could get me my medicine.”
Startled, Marta dropped a fork. “Oh, Mama!” she cried. “I meant to pick up your medicine, but I forgot.”
Mama looked out the window at the billowing black clouds. “It will have to wait until tomorrow then.”
“No, Mama. I’ll go and get the medicine now,” she insisted.
“It is dark and raining much too hard, Marta. Besides, it’s Tuesday, so only the pharmacy on the Avenida de Los Treinty y Tres (Avenue of the Thirty-three) will be open late. That is much too far for you to go on such a stormy night.”
How could I have forgotten something so important as Mama’s medicine? Marta agonized.
“Come here, querida,” Mama motioned to Marta and then enfolded her in her arms. “Don’t worry. You have had much to do while I’ve been in bed. It has been a lot to ask of a daughter who is only eleven years old.”
Marta left her mother’s embrace and quietly finished the dishes. Afterward she checked the window above her mother’s bed and found some rainwater seeping in. She got some rags and stuffed them into the cracks. Just as she finished her task, the light went out.
“It’s just as well,” said Mama. “It’s time for my two children to go to bed anyway.”
The girls kissed Mama goodnight, then went into the second room of the house where they slept. “Don’t worry, Marta,” said Alicia. “We’ll get the medicine first thing in the morning. Mama will be all right.”
Marta only nodded and then crept into bed. What if Mama gets sick because I forgot the medicine? she worried. And maybe even dies. After sleeping fitfully for several hours, Marta suddenly awoke. Someone was calling her name. It was Mama! Marta struggled out of the entangling blankets and ran into the next room. “What is it?” she asked, staring at the drawn white face of her mother.
“The baby. I need help, Marta,” Mama gasped.
Without taking time to think, Marta headed for the front door. At the same moment Alicia shuffled into the room and collided with her.
“Where are you going, Marta?”
“To Omar’s. He can telephone and get an ambulance for Mama. You stay here with her.” And Marta rushed out the door. She did not take time to put on her sandals and the road was a muddy mire. Every few steps Marta slipped and often fell, covering herself with a fresh coat of mud. Stray dogs whined at the wind from behind the bushes at the side of the road, but only once did one brave the rain and come far enough into the street for Marta to see his bared teeth as he gave a long throaty growl. But even this did not slow Marta’s pace.
It seemed as though it took much longer to get to Omar’s house than it usually did. When Marta finally reached the gate she clapped her hands loudly but no one came. She pushed through the gate and began pounding furiously on the door. Awakened by the racket, Omar opened the door and stared sleepily at the small mud elf before him.
“Call an ambulance for Mama. Quick!” Marta cried, tugging at his sleeve.
Omar reached down and wiped some of the mud from Marta’s face. “Marta! Come in.” The worried girl waited inside until Omar had called the hospital, and then she quickly slipped back out into the night.
Marta arrived home a few minutes before the ambulance came and sat on the bed holding her mother’s hand. “I’m sorry about the medicine, Mama. Please be all right.”
“Everything will be fine, Marta, you’ll see.” But then Mama started to moan again and could say no more.
Omar arrived at the same time as the ambulance. “I will go with your mother to the hospital,” he said. “When I know that she is being taken care of, I will go tell your father. Can you both be very brave and stay here alone?” Marta nodded and grasped Alicia’s cold hand more firmly.
After the ambulance left, the two girls huddled together on top of Mama’s bed and waited. It didn’t take long for Alicia to fall asleep. After Marta had tucked a quilt around her sister, she gently cried as she wondered about Mama. Finally her quiet tears and the sound of the wind lulled her to sleep.
It was late in the morning when Alicia woke at the sound of the door opening. “Oh, Papa! I’m so glad you’re home. How’s Mama?”
Marta stirred and smiled at the comforting sight of her father. But then lowered her eyes to the floor. “Oh, Papa, I have been so terrible. I didn’t get Mama’s medicine and that is why she got so sick.”
Papa sat down on the bed between the two girls and held them tightly. “Your Mama’s fine. Her suffering had nothing to do with your forgetting the medicine. The baby just decided to come a little sooner than we had expected. I’m proud of my two daughters and the way they helped out. I know it wasn’t an easy time for you. And now I have one more thing I would like you to do.”
“What’s that, Papa?” asked Marta.
“I would like you to help teach your new brother to be just as good and helpful as both of you are.”

April 26: Mom’s real busy with her new Church job. I saw her praying about it.
April 27: It isn’t the same when the baby-sitter tucks me in.

As the mother of four small children, I didn’t seem to have a spare moment. During one of my busy and hectic days, our bishop called and asked if he could meet with my husband and me. To my surprise he called me to be Relief Society president.
I told the bishop I would have to pray about it. I just didn’t know how I would be able to fulfill such a time-intensive calling at that time in my life. Feelings of inadequacy and uncertainty filled my mind, and I cried off and on for two days.
One of my visiting teachers, who had no idea what turmoil I was experiencing, called and made an appointment to see me. During her visit she shared a story about Emma Somerville McConkie, who had served as a Relief Society president during the early days of the Church in Utah. A woman in Sister McConkie’s ward had several children, including a new baby. Because the woman’s family was poor, Sister McConkie went daily to the home, taking food and helping the mother care for the child.
The story filled my heart and soul with comfort and peace. I knew that the Lord was aware of my circumstances, that He wanted me to serve the sisters in the ward, and that He would bless me so that I would be able to fulfill all of my responsibilities. I accepted the calling.
I am still amazed that I was able to fulfill my calling while tending to the needs and wants of my family, and I am grateful for a visiting teacher who was inspired to share a timely message. Since then I have never hesitated to accept a call. I have a testimony that when we serve our Heavenly Father, He blesses us with the time, energy, and ability we need to fulfill our callings.

“Doctor Evans, we’re ready for you to begin.”
Justin looked down at the man on the operating table. There was a line drawn on the man’s stomach. Justin was wearing a surgical robe and a mask. There were rubber gloves on his hands. Nurses and others in green surgical gowns were all waiting for him to begin the operation.
There was, however, one tiny problem—Justin was 15 years old and didn’t know anything about surgery.
“So what do I do, just cut on the dotted line?” he joked.
Nobody laughed. “Doctor, we need to begin right away,” the woman next to him said.
“Doctor Sanchez is right,” a man said. “We need to begin right away.”
“Let’s see, I guess we need some kind of a knife or something.”
A nurse shoved a scalpel in his hand. Justin looked down at the stomach. He cleared his throat. “Give me a hint here, should I slice this guy deep or shallow?”
“Are you all right?” the woman they called Doctor Sanchez asked.
“Is this guy going to bleed a lot if I cut him open? I really can’t stand the sight of blood.”
“Would you like me to take over?” Doctor Sanchez said.
“Yes, please.”
The woman traded places, took up the scalpel, and cut along the line on the man’s stomach.
“Oh, gross,” Justin said a few minutes later upon seeing for the first time the exposed inside of the man. But after a while he got used to it.
After the operation as he removed the surgical gloves and gowns, Doctor Sanchez came over to him. “You and your practical jokes,” she said. “For a moment there it sounded like you didn’t know anything about what was going on.”
Justin smiled. “Yeah, right.”
A nurse came in the room. “Dr. Evans, your wife called.”
“I have a wife?” he blurted out.
Everyone in the room smiled.
“She left a number for you to call. She said it was important.”
He went to a phone and dialed the number. A woman answered.
“This is Justin.”
“Listen, I need to ask you something. Did you send in the house payment last month?”
“Do we own a house?”
“The bank called to say they haven’t got our payment yet.”
“I know I’m married to you, but could you tell me your name once again. I guess I’ve forgotten it. You know how I am with names.”
“Justin, this is no time for games. The deadline for Howard to enter the race for city commission is Thursday. He needs to know what you did with the petitions you handled for him.
“What color hair do you have? And when did we meet each other?”
There was a long pause, and then she said, “All right, tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m 15 years old, and I’m not a doctor, and I’m not married, and I don’t have any idea who you are or who Howard is or what petitions you’re talking about. Basically that’s it.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be right over.”
“How will I recognize you?”
“I’ll come to your office.”
“I have an office then, right?” he asked. Saying good-bye, he hung up and walked the halls until he found a door with his name on it. He stepped inside and sat behind the desk and tried to figure out what was going on.
A few minutes later someone knocked on the door. He opened the door and let her in. It was a woman.
“Are you my wife?” he asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“How nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
“Lori.”
“Lori, can you help me? I seem to be having a bad day. I don’t belong here. You know what I think? I think this whole thing is a dream.”
“You mean, here, right now, even me?”
“Yes, that’s what I think.”
“Why don’t you wake up then, if it’s just a dream?”
“I don’t know how to make myself wake up.”
“Pinch yourself.”
He pinched himself. Nothing happened.
“It must not be a dream then,” she said.
“But maybe I only dreamed I pinched myself, and it really is a dream.”
“If it is a dream, it’ll end soon, and you can get on with your life.”
“Maybe so. While you’re here, can I ask a few questions before this ends? On the phone you kept talking about mortgage payments and some kind of a petition for Howard.” He paused. “I guess the main thing I want to know is if being grown up is any fun at all?”
“Most of the time it is. Especially if you prepare for it when you’re young.”
“How do you prepare for it?”
“You make goals of what you want out of life. Then you work to achieve those goals.”
“Sounds boring.”
“Not really. Do you know what you always tell me?”
“To have pizza for supper more often?”
“Yeah, that too, but also you say, ‘If you can dream it, if you can plan it, if you can work hard for it, you can achieve it.’”
He smiled. “I say that? Sounds good.” He looked at her more closely. “Where did we get married?”
“In the temple.”
“That’s good, isn’t it? I’m glad we did.”
“The reason it happened is that when we were both young, even though we didn’t know each other, we both decided to plan for a temple marriage.”
“When you’re 15, like I am now, it’s kind of hard to think about planning for something that’s years away.”
“The tallest buildings have the deepest foundations.”
“Do I say that too sometimes?”
“No, I do,” she said with a smile.
“You’re smart, aren’t you? And attractive.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s been nice to meet you. Thanks for talking to me. Do we have kids?”
“Yes. Two with one on the way.”
“You’re pregnant now? It doesn’t show.”
“It will,” she put her hand on his shoulder. “Do you want me to drive you home?”
“No, I think I’ll just hang around here until I wake up from my dream, and then I’ll be 15 for real, and I’ll go on with my life.”
“Don’t forget to prepare for the future. It’s kind of important to me because I’m in your future. I’ll be doing some preparing too.”
“Should we kiss or something?” he said as she got ready to leave.
And then he woke up.
Doctor Sanchez was standing in the doorway. “Doctor Evans, we’re ready for you to begin the operation now.”
He stood up and looked around his office. “I must have dozed off. I had the strangest dream.”
“You’ve been working very hard lately. Oh, your wife called. She said Howard needs the petitions.”
“I’ll call him after the operation.”
Minutes later he stared down at the exposed stomach of a man on the operating table.
“Let’s see now. I just cut along the dotted line, right?”
Once again, nobody laughed.

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.”

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to help publish a book? Well, 11-year-old Anna M. from Edmond, Oklahoma, knows all about it!
One day, Anna had an idea for a story: What would happen if a girl went on vacation and ended up with a group of rowdy pirates from the past? Anna told her dad about the idea. He thought it was so good that they turned it into a book. A year and a half after they started writing, Anna was holding a finished copy of their book in her hands.
It was a long process, but Anna and her dad grew closer through the experience. After school they would sit in the school library and he would write while she did her homework. Without Anna’s great ideas their book never could have been written. It was a team effort, and Anna loved working with her dad.
The greatest lesson Anna has learned by helping write a book is that the road to your dreams can be long and hard. But you can succeed with patience and hard work! “If you have a dream, don’t let anything get in the way,” Anna says.

A couple of years ago, as Sister Dickson and I arrived at the Missionary Training Center to speak with the missionaries, the MTC president asked if I would tie my tie for the missionaries to help them understand that they could handle the challenges that come with missionary service. I considered his request and adjusted my talk to cover some of what has been mentioned in this article. As I was about to conclude, I invited four missionaries in the front to come forward for a little race at tie-tying. One asked if they should just use their left hand, but I suggested they would need them both. As you can imagine, the missionaries were quite excited when I won.

President George Albert Smith once dreamed that he met his grandfather, George A. Smith, in the spirit world. George A. Smith had been an Apostle and a mighty man in the Church. “I would like to know what you have done with my name,” he said to his grandson.

President Smith quickly reviewed his life. Then he smiled, looked at his grandfather, and said: “I have never done anything with your name of which you need be ashamed.”

Then George A. Smith stepped forward, took his namesake in his big arms, and embraced him. “As he did so, I became conscious again of my earthly surroundings. My pillow was … wet with tears of gratitude that I could answer unashamed.” (Improvement Era, March 1947, p. 139.)

Elder Gary E. Stevenson and Sister Lesa Stevenson traveled with President Russell M. Nelson and Sister Wendy Nelson to Chile for a very important event. A new temple was being dedicated in the city of Concepción!
This beautiful new temple is the second one to be built in Chile and the 18th temple in South America.
Many earthquakes happen in Chile. The Concepción Chile Temple has a special foundation to keep it from being damaged if an earthquake hits.
Laura and Alicia O. helped put the last stone in the outside of the temple. This is called the cornerstone of the temple. Then the temple was ready to be dedicated.
Children came with their parents to hear President Nelson give a special prayer to dedicate the temple.
Now worthy members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are able to go inside to be sealed to their families and serve by doing temple baptisms!
Here’s what Elder Stevenson said about the dedication:

On Sunday 10 April 2022, an interfaith fast for peace and reconciliation was held in the metropolitan Borough of Kirklees in West Yorkshire.
Organised by the Huddersfield Stake but promoted among those of all faiths, and none, participants were invited to fast in accordance with their own traditions or preferences, and to donate the value of food not eaten to the Disasters Emergency Committee1.
Residents and religious leaders from various faith groups posted supportive video messages on Facebook and Instagram pages, inviting others to participate. The fast was supported by the local Ukrainian association, enthusiastic Church of England vicars, as well as the borough’s Hindu and Quaker congregations.
Father George Spencer, of St Saviour’s Church at Ravensthorpe near Dewsbury, commented: “When we fast, we double our efforts to offer our practical help, as best we can, to the people in Ukraine and other conflicts. But we also in our hearts lift them to the Lord, wishing for hope and solace.”
In all, it is estimated that over 1,500 people responded to the invitation, including members of the Huddersfield Stake, other congregations, community groups, and wider audiences through social media.
The fasting campaign was to help build solidarity and understanding across the community, to spread a message of peace, and instil a desire to help those suffering across the world from conflicts, including Afghanistan and Ukraine, where the DEC is active. The initiative was inclusive of all communities, politically neutral, and explicitly recognised the many tragic conflicts around the world.
President Bridgstock of the Huddersfield Stake said, “We know that the Prince of Peace is the answer to reconciling conflicts. He expects us to work in unity with everyone who desires peace. We felt strengthened by our joint community efforts to raise money, awareness and positive action for those in conflict situations.”

It’s been just over a year now since my parents and I joined the Church, and it hasn’t been an easy time for us.
We were taught by two of the finest missionaries and gained a strong testimony. But when we decided to be baptized, people told us we would be lost and end up in hell. We were told we were no good. We received a great deal of persecution. I lost all the friends I had at my old church, which I’d been attending for eleven years. I had done a lot of baby-tending and when I changed churches, the parents of the children I used to care for told me that they would never hire me to care for their children again, that I was a bad influence, and that they never wanted me in their home again.
That all hurt me very badly. I was harassed at school, and when I came home, there would be pamphlets against the Church in the mailbox and threatening phone calls.
The threats against us almost postponed our baptism. When my father received one the day we were to be baptized, he nearly canceled the baptism. But we went through with it.
And you know what? I’m really glad we did. I told my mom that I didn’t care if I lost all my friends. Yes, it hurt a great deal, but I knew that Jesus Christ had died for my sins. He had been beaten, spit on, and stabbed, and had had thorns put on his head. My troubles didn’t seem so bad in comparison.
I still get criticism about joining the Church, but Jesus Christ has helped me pull through. I have my baby-tending jobs back, and we no longer receive any more threats. I have found truly beautiful new friends in my ward, where there is a great deal of love, friendship, and caring. I would go through all the hardships again and face even more. I thank Heavenly Father so very much for bringing me into the true Church.

In the hallways at the Finnish high school, students rushed from one class to another, their chatter and laughter filling the air.
But here in the recital room, with its gilded trim and arching windows, the noise was distant and muffled. Here, where fifteen-year-old Säde (pronounced saw-day) Metsätähti was about to play the piano, there was peace.
Säde could have played many things—classical or popular. But right now, she had time to play and sing only one song. And so she played her favorite. The tune was simple, but memorable. Saria Karhunen, sixteen, joined Säde on the chorus. They’ve been friends since they were children, and somehow that friendship showed as the harmony of their voices built power in the song.
The girls finished. “Singing that,” Saria said, “is like singing a prayer.” Säde nodded her agreement.
In English the song, written by Latter-day Saints, is titled “Look Inside.” But the Finnish version, translated by Säde’s mother, Virpi, expresses the idea even more strongly. “Sydämees kun katsot, ”it says, “When You Look to Your Heart.”
“I know other people wrote the words and music,” said Säde. “But every time I play it, I feel like it’s my song. I think everybody—everything—has a song of its own, if you just listen close enough to hear it.”
The second bell rang, and that meant the brief performance was over. Säde and Saria are on a strict schedule at the Puolalanmaen Koulu, a school for students with musical aptitude. In addition to music, Säde has classes in Swedish, math, Finnish, gymnastics, English, biology, geography, and French.
She and Saria also study seminary every day and meet once a week with the other seminary students in their ward.
That evening was activity night at the chapel, and seminary students, institute students, Scouts, family history workers, and other ward members had gathered for various purposes—but all as brothers and sisters.
“How can you get closer to Jesus Christ?” asked Auli Haikkola, the seminary teacher.
“Study the scriptures,” said Aki Keskinen.
“Pray,” said Todd Katschke. “Go to church.”
“Talk about the Savior with your family,” said Jukka Merenluoto.
“Do good for someone else,” said Joni Mikkonen.
After class, several of the seminary students lingered to visit. They talked about how seminary helps prepare young people for missions, about getting up early to study the scriptures, about prayer and families and priesthood and the Spirit and a dozen other things youth all over the Church have in common.
“Most people in Finland don’t talk about religion,” Maria Sokoli said. “They go to church once or twice a year. They don’t understand how it can be such a big part of my life.”
“My nonmember friends respect me,” said Heidi Hankiala. “But it still gets tough when they all drink and do other things I won’t do.”
“Maria, Heidi, Saria, and I all grew up in the Church,” Säde explained. “Most of the people in this ward have grown up with the gospel. But now the Church is growing fast, and I see the day when it will grow faster and faster, when there will be lots of young people joining, not only in Finland, but in Russia, in Eastern Europe—all over the world. The Church is the hope of the future, and the youth are the hope of the Church.”
Too soon, the conversations were over. The youth said good-bye and departed. The seminary room was deserted, and the building was almost empty.
That was when the song began again.
Waiting for her mother, Säde had found a piano. Not an elegant one like the black enamel grand piano in the recital room at school. This was a brown upright, with a key or two chipped and a scratch in the finish. But the melody she played was the same: “When You Look to Your Heart.”
The song of faith continued.

“And he had a special job at church on Sundays,” Mom said. “The organ needed to have air pumped into it so it could work. During the songs, he helped pump the air for the organ to play the hymns.”
“I bet it was hard work,” Dad said. “But he loved the music. His favorite song was ‘Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam.’”

With three children under the age of three, Diana Hoffman found little time to read the scriptures. But she determined to make scripture study a priority, hoping the Lord would bless her with the time needed to care for herself and her family. By getting up earlier and reading while the children were sleeping, she found herself strengthened, able to accomplish all she needed to, and blessed with the companionship of the Holy Ghost.
She says: “I have more patience with my children, more understanding and compassion for others, and more love for my husband. I feel at peace, and I am aware of an abundance of blessings in my life. I have a greater awareness of my priorities and a great satisfaction with what I am achieving” (Ensign, January 1996, 11).