Gospel Story Finder

Of course, there are times when a family suffers because of divorce. Being part of a large extended family and a loving ward helps families heal. Gospel teachings help them remain faithful. Says one sister, whose husband left her and their seven children six years ago: “Though my husband was not a Latter-day Saint, the children and I always had family home evening, family prayers, and scripture study, including memorizing scriptures. After he left, I found work in a bakery, and my older children found jobs too. Family and ward members helped us also.” In this family, three sons and a daughter have served missions and married in the temple. The younger children are still living at home. “The priesthood of my sons and our testimonies of the gospel have sustained our family,” says this sister.

I was 57, newly divorced, with little work experience outside the home, and desperately in need of a job. I had raised four children, and here I was alone after 32 years of marriage with a bit of college behind me and great trepidation in front of me to have to find a job at my age.
I sat waiting to interview for a position as a scheduling and productions specialist with the county library district, all the while thinking I must be out of my mind to believe I was qualified for such a position. I had just convinced myself to get up and leave when the secretary suddenly said they were ready for me in the conference room. I felt sick but straightened up, said a silent prayer, and stepped forward.
Two articulate and professional people told me that experience in certain areas was vital for this position and began to ask me about my experience. This job required a person who could make arrangements for large conferences, including announcements, invitations, catering, and cleanup. Did I have the experience needed? I was thinking I didn’t when my mind suddenly captured an image of a stake Relief Society conference. I had been a counselor in the stake Relief Society presidency. From that experience I had learned how to organize large gatherings and shop for bulk food for large groups. I could honestly say I had experience doing exactly what was required.
The interviewers continued: “Are you proficient on the computer? You will be corresponding with patrons and will be required to keep a schedule of conference room use.” All I could think of was how grateful I was to all the people who had taught me to use the computer so I could create the ward bulletin and calendar and write the stake newsletter. Yes, I was proficient on the computer.
“You will be expected to develop programs and provide classes for the public. Would you be able to teach classes to children and adults?” they asked. All those homemaking and Cub Scout crafts I had done sprang to mind. I explained that I had taught classes to children and adults my entire adult life. I knew I was creative and artistic and felt sure I could come up with interesting programs for children and adults.
I was thrilled when I got the position. I loved the work and tried to do as I would in a Church calling: magnify my work, go the extra mile, and not whine about overtime. I developed computer classes in English and recruited a young student to teach the classes in Spanish. I taught arts and crafts classes and hosted numerous authors and prominent speakers. I decorated the library for every holiday and displayed related books.
One day someone called me at work, claiming to be from the governor’s office and wanting to know if I would be interested in a position as the governor’s assistant. I laughingly asked, “Who is this?” He explained that the call was legitimate and invited me to come the next day for an interview. I went with a sinking feeling that it could be a joke. It wasn’t. The interview went well, and I was hired on the spot.
In my new job I used the skills I had gained from years of speaking in church. The governor could not attend all the events to which he was invited; therefore, his staff members were expected to speak in his place. All those talks in church and from serving in leadership positions had given me the experience I needed to speak in public alongside senators, local and national dignitaries, and celebrities. I served as the governor’s assistant for seven years until we both retired.
Where would I have been without the wide range of experience I had received while serving in Church callings? All that I have learned as a servant of the Lord in His Church has given me a life rich with blessings. Not only was I helping others while serving, but I was also growing by leaps and bounds. I am deeply grateful for the gospel and have a solid testimony of the value of service in the Church.

“It took six months for the judge to make the adoption final, and we went to the temple as soon as we could,” Mom said.
In the second picture Malia was wearing a delicate pink dress, sitting on her parents’ laps and laughing. Mom and Dad were smiling down at her and the temple shone in the background.
“After the sealing ceremony, the temple sealer told us that if we chose to keep the commandments, we would be a family forever,” Mom said.
Malia wanted to live righteously so she could be with her family forever.

One of the most fascinating experiments in the field of animal psychology was conducted with a chimpanzee. The chimp was placed in a room with a bunch of bananas. As his mouth began to water while he contemplated his impending feast, a box was placed over the bananas and he was led to an adjoining room for a short period of time.
While the chimp was out of sight, the experimenter then substituted a head of lettuce for the bananas and again covered it with the box. When the chimpanzee returned, he very gleefully scurried across the room and flipped over the box. To his great surprise and dismay, he discovered the lettuce instead of the bananas he had anticipated. He became so incensed with his disappointment that he let out a bloodcurdling shriek and began to tear the lettuce to shreds and then stomp on it, thus rendering it completely inedible.1
Now the interesting thing about the chimpanzee is that, next to bananas, lettuce is one of his most desired delicacies. In fact, when given a visible choice between the two alternatives, the ordinary chimp is just about as likely to choose lettuce as he is to choose bananas. You see, the only real reason the chimp rejected the lettuce was because his heart had been set on bananas.

I left my home in NanTze, Taiwan, to serve as a full-time missionary in northern California in 2005. The area my companion and I were assigned was small enough that within four and a half months we had knocked on doors of every street in the main town area. The missionary work was difficult, and people often yelled at us. We had few investigators. It seemed to me that the work was not going anywhere. After about four months there, I was ready to leave. I was convinced I would be transferred.
Sunday night I waited by the phone until my zone leader called. When he reported that I was assigned to stay in the same area for another six weeks, I couldn’t believe my ears. I thought there must have been a mistake!
The following week was a total disaster for me and probably for my companion and the people under our stewardship as well. I refused to believe this was the right decision. Still, I put on a big smile whenever we saw or talked to people, but deep inside I remained unhappy. In my pride I continued to tell myself that I was not where I was supposed to be. I still hoped that my mission president would call and tell me that I was being transferred to another area.
The next Sunday morning while I was grudgingly getting ready for church, the phone rang. It was the mission president. He greeted me with his usual kind, sincere voice and then said, “Sister Cho, yesterday at lunch I thought of you and had a feeling that I needed to call you to let you know you are in the right place. You are where you’re supposed to be.” I teared up when I heard his words.
I thanked him and hung up the phone. As I began to cry, a crystal-clear feeling came strongly to my heart that there were unfinished assignments waiting for me in our area. I also knew that my Heavenly Father knew my thoughts and frustration. He understood my weakness, and He sent His servant to reassure me.
After that phone call, I began to pull myself together. I prayed for strength every day, asking to see more clearly how I could do what the Lord expected me to do. Throughout the next five weeks, my companion and I witnessed many miracles as we exercised enough faith to work hard. A very prepared investigator moved into our area and was baptized within that transfer.
We were also invited into homes of people who originally hadn’t welcomed us. We met many new people who were having a hard time and were blessed to share the comforting words of God with them. Although some didn’t then choose to be baptized, I will never forget their shining faces or how the Spirit and the love of God touched their hearts—and mine.
I learned that the Lord is truly aware of every one of us; He doesn’t send His missionaries to places without a reason. I learned that when we are assigned to an area, the Lord wants to use us there as instruments to accomplish His work. When we put ourselves in His hands, miracles happen and hearts soften, even when we don’t see how this is possible.
Importantly, I learned that my mission president, like other Church leaders, was truly called of God to be His servant. The Lord qualifies our leaders to receive the revelation and inspiration we need for the welfare of our souls.
I am forever grateful for the experiences that came as a result of not being transferred.

“Will you conduct the flag ceremony at the Blue and Gold Banquet, Kevin?” asked Sister Sandberg, the Cub Scout den leader.
Kevin chewed on his lower lip and lowered his gaze. “I—I d-d-don’t kn-know.”
Someone snickered. Kevin studied his shoelaces miserably, wishing that he could sink into the floor.
“That’s all right,” she said quickly. “You think about it and let me know at our next meeting.”
Kevin nodded.
“Let’s start making our invitations,” Sister Sandberg said. She handed out construction paper, scissors, and markers.
When Kevin got home that evening, he told his parents about the den leader’s request. “I d-don’t think I c-c-can do it,” he said.
His parents exchanged concerned glances. “I think Sister Sandberg’s suggestion to think about it this week is a good one,” Father said at last. “We’ll be happy with whatever you choose.”
Kevin did little else but think about it. He wanted to lead the flag ceremony. He loved hearing the Pledge of Allegiance. He could even say it—if he was by himself and taking his time. But he couldn’t lead a big group of people in saying it, could he?
During that week, Kevin prayed about it every night. The answer he received was clear: You can do it.
At the next den meeting, he told Sister Sandberg that he wanted to lead the flag ceremony.
“Good!” she gave him a quick hug. “I’m proud of your decision, Kevin.”
Kevin spent every moment he could practicing. He also asked his speech therapist at school to help him. They went over the words slowly and carefully until he felt confident saying them. By the night of the Blue and Gold Banquet, Kevin figured he had rehearsed at least a zillion times. He smiled, thinking that he could probably say the Pledge of Allegiance backward. Now, if only I can say it without stuttering, he told himself. That’s all that matters.
He knelt by his bed and prayed once more. When he rose from his knees, a warm feeling settled in his heart. He could do it! He knew he could! Heavenly Father wouldn’t let him down. He was smiling as he ran down the stairs.
“Are you ready to go, M-Mom?” he asked. “I d-don’t want to b-be late.”
His mother looked up from where she was helping his little sister zip up her coat. “You look happy.”
“I am,” he said. “T-Tonight is going to be awesome!”
“Just remember to take your time,” Mother said while straightening the yellow kerchief around his neck. “It doesn’t matter if you have to start over.”
“I won’t have to,” Kevin predicted. “I’ve p-prayed about it, and I’m sure that everything’s g-going to be all right.”
Kevin’s father walked into the kitchen. He hugged Kevin. “Good luck, son. We love you.”
“I know.” Kevin returned the hug, then hugged his mother and sister.
He didn’t eat much of the dinner at the banquet, even though he usually liked hot dogs and potato salad. He kept thinking about his part in the program. The warm feeling he’d received after his prayer had stayed with him.
Then the dinner was over, and the Cubmaster introduced Kevin and sat down.
Kevin stood and walked slowly to the stand. He wiped his wet palms against his pants. “W-Will …” He looked out at the audience with horrified eyes. He took a deep breath and started again. “W-W-Will …”
He saw his mother clasp her hands tightly in her lap. He knew she was silently praying for him. He tried again, and again the words stuck to his lips, refusing to come out. Why did it have to happen now? He’d worked so hard, practiced so long! In his prayer, he’d had a strong feeling that everything would be all right. And now he was stuttering worse than ever!
Eric got up and started forward, followed by David and Hyrum. Soon all the Cub Scouts except those carrying the flag were standing beside Kevin.
Eric slipped his arm around Kevin’s shoulders. “It’s all right,” he whispered.
Kevin cleared his throat. “W-Will the audience p-please stand?” He paused while the color guard posted the colors. “P-Please repeat the Pledge of Allegiance.”
The audience started reciting the words. “I pledge allegiance to the flag …”
Kevin faltered once or twice, but his friends were there, encouraging him. When he took his seat, Sister Sandberg gave his shoulder a squeeze and smiled at him. He smiled back at her.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. He’d done it! He’d stood before a group of people and led them in the Pledge of Allegiance.
Before climbing into bed that night, Kevin knelt beside it and folded his arms. His prayer had been answered—not in the way he’d prayed for, but in a very special way, and he was eager to thank Heavenly Father for helping him.

Mary and I left Utah so I could attend law school in Palo Alto, California. We were planning to return to Utah after graduation, but the Spirit directed that we stay in California. We lived in California for 33 years and raised our family there. We both had many opportunities to serve. We loved the diversity of the members and their commitment to the gospel of Jesus Christ. I will be eternally grateful for the wonderful Latter-day Saints in California who have been such a positive influence in my life.

Thanks for volunteering at our animal shelter! Are you ready to help some animals?
Yes!
This is going to be fun. Great idea, Margo!
Thanks! Helping animals makes me happy.
I’m glad! Jesus Christ made all living things. We need to take care of His creations.
That’s why I want to be a veterinarian when I grow up!
Now it’s time to go home and take care of our pet.
Kiwi must be hungry!
Illustrations by Katie McDee

Had the time come for baptism?
“Brother Palmer asked me if I would be baptized,” Brandon recalls. “I had already told him yes. Then the missionaries asked, too. I remember that was on August 4. They said, ‘How about September 4?’ I said, ‘That’s the day after the big game. I don’t know if that will work,’” and he called for time out to think it over. It didn’t take long. He thought about what he had learned and the answers he had already received.
“I knew I had to decide,” Brandon said, “And once I made the decision, I knew it was right. I knew I would fulfill my promises to the Lord with all my heart.”

I went sledding with my family. We had a lot of fun. There were lots of kids on the hill. I noticed that a girl was going too fast and was going to hit the fence. As she hit the fence, I ran down the hill to help her because I knew she must be hurt. She wasn’t hurt badly but she was scared and crying. No one else was around to help her, so I helped her get off her sled and made sure she was all right. Later that night when I went to bed I had a warm feeling in my heart. I knew it was the Holy Ghost telling me I had done something good and that Heavenly Father was happy with me.

I can still remember one particular Young Women lesson, even though my teacher, Sister Cato, taught it years ago. It was about reaching out to others who may not seem to fit in with “our group.”
I was in high school then, captain of the marching band color guard, publicity chair for a club, active on the academic team and in drama, Laurel class president, and a member of the stake youth committee. I was the only member of the Church at my school, but people seemed to respect me for my beliefs.
The day after Sister Cato’s wonderful lesson, I noticed a guy at lunch I’d never really noticed before. He was sitting by himself, except for two other guys who were making fun of him. I remembered having seen him at band practice after school, but I didn’t even know his name. I asked my friends from the band if they knew anything about him.
“That’s Chris. He can’t march and won’t play his trombone loud enough for you to hear him three feet from you!” the trombone section leader replied.
“I think he just moved here from another school,” said another. “People say he’s really weird.”
“I heard he can’t drive to save his life. Once he hit someone’s trash can when he was driving home after school!” another of my friends said.
The bell rang, and we all scattered for class. I continued to think about Chris and how lonely he had seemed at lunch.
The next day, I decided to sit with Chris instead of with my usual group. Ignoring my friends’ stares, I introduced myself and sat down. I really enjoyed my lunch with Chris. He was funny and bright, though a little quiet that first day. The next day at lunch, I asked Chris to sit with my friends and me. My friends protested, but I insisted, and Chris had lunch with us the rest of the year.
I’m so thankful for that lesson in Young Women. Chris and I became the best of friends. When band practice ended each afternoon, we would often end up at one or the other’s house. I introduced him to my younger brothers, with whom he became fast friends, and he introduced me to his girlfriend. We went to the movies together. He helped me get my first job, and we even double-dated to the prom.
The next year, I completed the Personal Progress program in Young Women. My parents decided to have a little party to celebrate my receiving the Young Womanhood Recognition. I handed out invitations to all my friends and reminded them many times, hoping they would come. Chris came—my only friend who wasn’t a member of the Church to show up.
Graduation day came and went, but Chris and I still keep in touch. Who would have known that by following a Young Women lesson, I would end up with a great friendship?

Jack McConnell grew up in the hills of southwest Virginia in the United States as one of seven children of a Methodist minister and a stay-at-home mother. Their circumstances were very humble. He recounted that during his childhood, every day as the family sat around the dinner table, his father would ask each one in turn, “And what did you do for someone today?”1 The children were determined to do a good turn every day so they could report to their father that they had helped someone. Dr. McConnell calls this exercise his father’s most valuable legacy, for that expectation and those words inspired him and his siblings to help others throughout their lives. As they grew and matured, their motivation for providing service changed to an inner desire to help others.
Besides Dr. McConnell’s distinguished medical career—where he directed the development of the tuberculosis tine test, participated in the early development of the polio vaccine, supervised the development of Tylenol, and was instrumental in developing the magnetic resonance imaging procedure, or MRI—he created an organization he calls Volunteers in Medicine, which gives retired medical personnel a chance to volunteer at free clinics serving the working uninsured. Dr. McConnell said his leisure time since he retired has “evaporated into 60-hour weeks of unpaid work, but [his] energy level has increased and there is a satisfaction in [his] life that wasn’t there before.” He made this statement: “In one of those paradoxes of life, I have benefited more from Volunteers in Medicine than my patients have.”2 There are now over 90 such clinics across the United States.

You probably remember, as I do, the first talk you ever gave in church. It was frightening, wasn’t it? It’s always been a hard thing for me to speak in front of a large group of people. But the Church gives us so many Opportunities to learn. I can remember when our Primary class was giving a special presentation in sacrament meeting on Mother’s Day. Mom had to hold my hand while I stepped up on the platform. I said the first two words. Then, to her surprise, I jumped into her arms and cried, “You say it.” Everyone else laughed, but I didn’t.

Annie’s eyes popped open Friday morning. She hurried downstairs and poured a bowl of cereal just as the sun peeked over the mountains.
“What’s the rush, early bird?” Dad asked.
“Today’s my spelling test, Dad,” Annie said. “Mrs. Page promised a prize to everyone who gets 100 percent.”
“Are you ready for the test?” Dad asked.
“Yes,” Annie said. “I’ve studied the list all week. The words are hard, but I’m ready.” She patted a paper lying on the table. “I’m going to study them again while I eat breakfast.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great,” Dad said. “Just do the best you can.”
Annie studied the spelling words again as Mom drove her to school. Finally, it was time for the test.
“Impatient,” Mrs. Page began.
Annie heard soft sounds of pencils on paper around the classroom. She filled her lungs with air, slowly let it out, and began to write.
“Word number two: weird,” Mrs. Page said.
“Easy,” Annie thought. She quickly wrote it on her paper.
Twenty-three words later, Mrs. Page collected the tests. “I’ll correct the tests during lunch,” she told the class.
“I hope, I hope,” Annie whispered to herself. “I hope I got a hundred percent on the test.”
After lunch Mrs. Page said, “Several of you earned a prize today for perfect test scores.”
Annie held her breath as Mrs. Page read the names.
“Tressa, Jonas, Olivia, and Annie all scored 100 percent!”
Annie grinned as she walked to the front of the room. Mrs. Page presented each student with a fancy pencil. Annie’s was silver, pink, and blue—her favorite colors. She held it high, her cheeks pink, while the class clapped.
“This is one of my best days ever,” Annie thought as she sat down.
Mrs. Page handed back the tests and Annie read the words over, proud of the hard words she had spelled. She paused at the word weird. It didn’t look right. Annie pulled out the study list of spelling words and compared her test to it. “W-i-e-r-d,” she whispered. She felt like a leaky balloon, with all the happiness whooshing out of her. She had spelled weird wrong.
“What should I do?” Annie wondered. “I want my class to think I’m a great speller. If I tell Mrs. Page I’ll have to give back my prize.”
Annie stared at the test with the big red “100%!” written at the top. The words of the thirteenth article of faith popped into her head: “We believe in being honest.”
Slowly, Annie raised her hand. “Mrs. Page, I didn’t get 100 percent on the test. I missed a word.” She stood up and handed her teacher the beautiful pencil and her test paper. “I spelled weird with ‘i-e’ instead of ‘e-i.’”
Anne could feel the eyes of her classmates on her as she walked back to her desk. Mrs. Page held up Annie’s test. “Class,” she said, “Annie did something even more important than spelling every word correctly on a test.” Mrs. Page smiled at Annie. “She taught us all a lesson on being honest.”
Annie looked around. Her best friend, Keely, smiled at her. Khalil gave her a thumbs-up. Even shy Ava smiled at her.
“Annie, I want you to have this pencil because of your good example to all of us,” Mrs. Page said.
Annie took the beautiful silver, pink, and blue pencil from her teacher. “Thank you, Mrs. Page.”
She couldn’t wait to show it to her dad.

As a teenager, I eagerly anticipated an expensive gift for Christmas, often speaking of it without considering my parents’ financial situation.
When Christmas arrived, the gift I longed for was not under the tree. Initially, I felt disappointed, but soon my disappointment turned to embarrassment as I realized my parents were carrying heavy financial burdens—supporting my brother on a mission and my sister in college, as well as providing for me, their youngest.
As the morning progressed, I noticed there was little under the tree for them and much for me. In my selfishness, I had been blind to the love and sacrifice my parents had shown me all along.
Years later, after returning from my mission, I spent Christmas alone with my parents once again. They beamed with joy as they watched me open gifts from under the tree, and once more, nearly every gift was for me.
This time, I saw things differently. My teenage experience had taught me a valuable lesson. I wasn’t merely thankful for the presents—I was deeply touched by my parents’ love and the sacrifices they had willingly made for me.
I have come to understand that some gifts are more valuable than others, and often, those gifts require sacrifice from the giver.

Amelia liked visiting Grandma. She liked playing with the toy animals, especially with Grandma’s soft stuffed bunny. But today wasn’t for playing. Today was for helping.
On the way to Grandma’s house, Amelia’s sisters talked about which jobs they wanted to do.
Sarah wanted to sweep. Emily wanted to mop. And Mom asked Alyssa to clean the windows.
“What about me?” Amelia asked. “Should I help dust?”
“I have a special job for you,” Mom said. “I need you to listen.”
Amelia waited. “OK, I’m listening. What is it?”
“That’s the job!” Mom said with a laugh. “Just listen. Sit with Grandma and listen while she talks. It might be the most important job we do all day.”
How could listening be the most important job? Amelia wondered. It seemed like dusting would be more of a real job! But Amelia was willing to try.
Grandma was glad to see them. Everyone else got started on their jobs. Amelia went and sat next to Grandma on the couch. Amelia noticed the stuffed bunny in the corner. “I like your rabbit,” she said.
Grandma smiled. “Did I ever tell you about my brother Mel and the baby bunny?”
Amelia was surprised. “A real bunny?”
Grandma nodded. “It was an orphan he found. He snuggled it inside his shirt so it would be safe.” Grandma told Amelia about the rabbit pen Mel built.
That story reminded Grandma of other stories. She told about a pet calf she named Star. She used to ride on Star’s back! Amelia giggled as she pictured Grandma riding a baby cow. It wasn’t easy imagining Grandma as a little girl.
Grandma talked and talked. She told the rabbit story again. Another time, she even stopped in the middle of a story and started over.
Amelia tried to keep listening, but she was getting tired. Mom and the other girls were still working. It was hard to sit and listen! But Grandma smiled. She seemed happy to be sharing her stories.
A few minutes later, Mom came in. “All done! We’re ready go.”
“That was so nice,” Grandma told Amelia. “I love visiting with you!”
Amelia gave her grandma a big hug. She saw tears in Grandma’s eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Amelia asked.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Grandma said. “Thank you for talking with me. I love you.”
Amelia felt warm all the way inside. “I love you too,” she said. “I’ll come again soon.”
On the way home, Alyssa asked, “How was listening, Amelia?”
“It was harder than I thought. I think I was done listening before Grandma was done talking!”
“You were terrific!” Mom said.
“Thanks,” Amelia said. “Some of the stories she told were fun. Did you know Grandma had a pet calf?”
“Really?” Sarah asked.
“Yeah! Grandma used to ride it,” Amelia said, nodding. “Its name was Star.”
Amelia told them all of Grandma’s other stories. It was pretty cool to learn so much about her.
Emily grinned. “Maybe you could trade me jobs next time. I want a chance to listen!”

My father-in-law became very ill with cancer, and as death approached, he felt the need to express the importance of the Church to his children. Something about his simple testimony touched my heart, and I decided to find out for myself the truth regarding this church. I began by cross-referencing the scriptures, and found to my surprise that there were no inconsistencies between the Bible and the Book of Mormon. To me, the Bible was the precious word of God. I believed it without question. Could Mormon doctrine possibly be proven within the Bible? I set out to find the answer.

In going through my husband’s Church books, I came across A Marvelous Work and a Wonder by Elder LeGrand Richards. As I read it, I felt as if it had been written for me. I discovered New Testament scriptures regarding baptism for the dead and Christ’s mission during the time prior to his resurrection. I discovered Jesus’ words to Mary Magdalene at the empty tomb: “Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father.” (John 20:17.) Had he not returned to his Father immediately after his death? But I had used his words to the thief on the cross, “To day shalt thou be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43) to prove deathbed repentance! I had read these same scriptures countless times before but had never really understood them. Now I realized I had been deceived about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

As I studied and prayed, I began to find answers to the questions I had quietly pushed aside. Finally, I knew that this church was the Savior’s church, and its doctrine was his doctrine. In 1984 I was baptized.

I am grateful the Lord waited so patiently for the moment when my heart would open so that his Spirit would lead me to the truth.

For several years, I have worked as a special education teacher for children between the ages of five and eight. My students struggle with many disabilities—from traumatic brain injuries and autism to learning disabilities.
Many of my students lack fine motor skills and are unable to tie their own shoes. I applaud parents who buy shoes for their children with Velcro straps, but I grumble about parents who buy laced shoes for their children.
Illustration by Enya Todd; photograph courtesy of the author
To have properly tied shoes is a safety issue for the children. So, multiple times each day, I can be found kneeling and tying the shoes of my little students. During the school day, this is both time-consuming and inconvenient.
Recently, as I knelt impatiently on the playground to tie yet another pair of shoes, a beautiful thought came to my mind. I pictured the Savior kneeling by His disciples to offer kind service by caring for their feet. Then the Savior’s words came to my mind: “Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matthew 25:40).
I felt the Savior’s love for the little child I was kneeling beside to serve. I also felt the Lord’s love for me. I felt seen and appreciated by Him for the tireless hours I spend each week trying to serve His little, most vulnerable ones.
This sweet experience gave me much-needed peace, strength, and assurance that I am where I am supposed to be, doing what I am supposed to be doing. I am grateful for the Lord and His tender mercies in my life. And now I am grateful for daily opportunities to kneel and tie shoes.

A wife and husband invited the members of his work team and their families to join them for dinner and to visit a Giving Machine kiosk. With a shared love for service, the team found it to be the perfect way to celebrate Christmas and their accomplishments together. Everyone enjoyed selecting gifts and choosing the organizations to support.
“It’s fantastic! I love that we can be a small part of something so big,” said Brittany, one of the employees. Her 10-year-old son asked when they could go back because he wanted to give more! The member who extended the invitation reflected on the experience, saying, “This is a tradition we will continue for years to come. It was a wonderful evening to share the Light of Christ with others.”

Kathy listened as Mr. Sodeberg explained how people migrated in the United States. She was excited about her new history class. Flipping through the pages of her new history book, Kathy stopped at a picture of Brigham Young. She had never realized Brigham Young’s significance in United States history before.
Mr. Sodeberg finished his lecture. “There will be homework every day,” he said. “Your first assignment is due tomorrow.”
At home Kathy sighed as she looked at all the questions Mr. Sodeberg had assigned.
“Tough day at school?” Mom asked.
“Homework every day,” Kathy said. She remembered the picture in her history book. “Mom, Brigham Young is in my textbook. What makes him so important in U.S. history?”
“He directed the migration of thousands of Latter-day Saints to the Salt Lake Valley. Then he organized them into settlements,” Mom said. “That took a lot of planning. It was a significant part of the country’s westward migration.”
The next day Mr. Sodeberg announced, “Next week we will perform a readers’ theater. Each of you will dramatize a character of the westward migration. Your parents and other students will be invited to attend the performance.”
Mr. Sodeberg began assigning characters and handing out scripts. When he asked who wanted the part of Brigham Young, Kathy quickly raised her hand.
“Tonight’s homework is to begin memorizing your part,” Mr. Sodeberg said. “You must recite it perfectly. Your grade depends on it.”
Kathy read over her part as she and her friend Laura left class. A terrible feeling came over her. “This is all wrong,” she said to Laura. “It makes Brigham Young sound dishonest.”
“You just see things differently because of your church,” Laura said.
“I can’t say these things,” Kathy said.
“You have to recite them perfectly,” Laura reminded her.
Tears rolled down Kathy’s cheeks as she ran home and burst through the front door.
“More homework?” Mom asked.
“Worse,” Kathy said, handing her the script. “Read this.”
Mom read the script and shook her head. “This writer didn’t know a lot about Brigham Young.”
“What should I do?” Kathy asked.
“First let’s find a Brigham Young costume,” Mom said.
Kathy tried on Grandpa’s long black coat and rolled up the sleeves on her brother’s white shirt. Mr. Grandi next door showed Kathy how to walk with his extra wooden cane.
Mom found a tall black hat in a closet and put it on Kathy’s head. “You’d make Brigham Young proud,” Mom said. “Now you need a new script.”
Kathy looked for information about Brigham Young in Church history books and on the Church Web site. Soon the script was rewritten.
“The true story of Brigham Young,” Kathy said.
On the day of the performance, Kathy’s class gathered in the auditorium. Parents and other students waited in their seats. Mr. Sodeberg introduced the program; then he stood offstage as the students recited their parts.
Alex recited his script perfectly, but Randall mixed up his words. Mr. Sodeberg made him begin again. Kathy squeezed her cane. When it was her turn, Kathy recited the true story of Brigham Young.
“Did you change your script?” Laura asked after the performance.
“Yes. I told the truth,” Kathy said.
“Here comes Mr. Sodeberg,” Laura said.
“Well done, ladies,” Mr. Sodeberg said. “Kathy,” he continued, “you were the best Brigham Young I have ever seen.”