Gospel Story Finder

Mimi tried not to squirm, but it was hard to sit quietly in church. The pew (bench) just wasn’t the right size for her body. Mimi remembered Mom saying that reverent behavior in church shows love and respect for Heavenly Father. Mimi loved Heavenly Father very much, but sitting still for so long wasn’t easy. Mom also said that sitting quietly in church was less difficult if you really paid attention to the meeting, so Mimi tried.
It was fast and testimony meeting. Sister Richards was just saying how grateful she was to work in the nursery. After she finished, Jason stood to bear his testimony. Jason was only a little older than Mimi, about her brother, Ben’s, age. Mimi listened as Jason said, “I know the Church is true. I know we have a true prophet. I love my family. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Jason sat down. His little sister Ava stood up. Mimi was surprised. Ava was in her own Primary class. Wasn’t she scared to speak in front of so many people? But Ava stepped right up and said, “I love my mom and dad and Grandma and Grandpa and my brother, Jason. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
After a few more grown-ups spoke, Tyler, another Primary child, bore his testimony. He also said that he loved his family, adding, “and I try to be good. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.” Then the closing hymn began.
After church, Mimi said, “Next fast Sunday, I want to bear my testimony.”
“That would be fine,” Dad answered. “Have you thought about what you would like to say?”
“Oh, yes,” said Mimi. “It’s easy. I’m supposed to say, ‘I love my family. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.’”
“Well,” said Dad, “Those are very good things to say in a testimony, but they are not necessarily what you are supposed to say. Do you know what bearing your testimony means, sweetheart?”
Mimi nodded, then stopped. Maybe she wasn’t exactly sure what “bearing testimony” meant. She knew it had nothing to do with the animal kind of bear or with a bare wall that needs a picture.
Dad noticed her puzzled face. “Bearing testimony,” he explained, “means telling people what you believe or know is true. It’s not just repeating words you’ve heard others say. It is saying what you have faith in, or what spiritual things you have learned, or what the Holy Ghost tells you in your mind and heart.”
“Do you mean that Ava was wrong to stand up and say what the others said?” Mimi asked.
“No,” answered Mom. “She wasn’t wrong. She’s learning to bear her testimony, and that’s wonderful. She’s learning to speak in front of people, too, which can be scary. And she’s learning the kinds of things people have testimonies about. But as she grows, she will have special spiritual experiences that will help her testimony to grow. Then when she bears her testimony, she will have some very personal things to say.”
“Mimi,” Dad said, “if you want to bear your testimony, that’s great. But first, think about the things you feel deep inside you. What do you really know or have faith is true? And why do you feel that way?”
The next day started like any other Monday. But after school, Mimi was greeted at home by her neighbor, Mrs. Martin. “Your mother isn’t here, dear. She took Ben to the hospital. I’m staying with you and your little sister until she or your dad can come home.”
Mimi’s eyes widened, and a scared feeling filled her stomach. “What’s the matter with Ben?”
“The doctors at the hospital said that his appendix ruptured.”
“Ruptured?”
“That means it burst, dear,” Mrs. Martin explained. “It was all full of infection, and it burst, letting the infection out into his tummy.”
Mimi gulped. “Is it dangerous?”
“Well, it’s pretty serious, but they operated quickly to take it out. And your dad and grandpa hurried to the hospital to give him a blessing. He should be just fine. There’s nothing to worry about now, I’m sure.”
But Mimi did worry. The scared feeling in her stomach became a sick feeling. She went to her room and knelt by her bed. “Heavenly Father,” she whispered, “please help Ben be all right. I know we argue sometimes, but I really love him. Please bless him to get better. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.” As Mimi finished praying, she felt warm all over, and the sick feeling faded away.
Later, when Mom came home, her tired face looked white, but she smiled at Mimi and her sister and hugged them tightly. “Everything is going to be all right,” she said. “Ben is very sick, but his blessing promised him that he would heal quickly and without too much pain. He’ll have to be in the hospital for a while, and I’ll go back tonight to be with him.”
Before Mom left, she prayed with the girls. Again Mimi felt a warm, peaceful feeling all through her body. Before she went to sleep, she carefully read the scripture on a card her Primary teacher had given her; “Whatsoever thing ye shall ask the Father in my name, which is good, in faith believing that ye shall receive, behold, it shall be done unto you.”* Mimi slipped out of bed onto her knees and prayed once more. Then, full of the warm, peaceful feeling again, she crept back under the covers and went right to sleep.
After several days, the doctor said that Ben could leave the hospital. “I expected him to need to stay longer, but there’s no sign of infection now, and I’ve never seen anyone heal so quickly.”
The doctor may have been surprised, but Ben wasn’t. “Of course—didn’t my blessing say I would get well fast and without too much pain?”
Mimi just smiled.
Before long, life was back to normal—school, playing, and, of course, church. On fast Sunday, just as she had said she would, Mimi bore her testimony. When she stood to speak, her knees trembled and her tummy did flip-flops. She never knew so many people could fit in the chapel, and they were all looking at her! She almost wanted to sit down again. But then she saw her family smiling at her.
She took a deep breath and began, “I know that Heavenly Father is really there and that He listens to our prayers. I know that because when I talked to Him about something really important, I felt all warm and calm inside. And I believe in the priesthood and in blessings, because everything my dad promised in Ben’s blessing happened just the way he said it would. And I believe in the scriptures because they promised that Heavenly Father will answer our prayers.” She looked at Ben. “I know that He answered mine. And I love Him. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Mimi felt an even greater love for Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ as she walked back to her seat. She saw tears in Mom’s eyes, but she was smiling. Daddy slipped his arm around her and whispered, “Now that, sweetheart, is what bearing testimony is all about.”

Seven-year-old Craig Parker of Spanish Fork, Utah, gained a testimony of the role of prayer in the repentance process. One day while he was playing, he said a word that he knew was wrong. He felt very bad afterward. “In our home and at church I have learned about Jesus, and I know that He would not want me to say that word.”
Craig decided to kneel and pray for forgiveness. “I folded my arms and told Heavenly Father I was sorry for saying that word. I felt better after praying. I knew that Heavenly Father forgave me, and I have never said that word again.”

Gabriel loved learning about Jesus. He loved hearing stories from the scriptures. His family read the scriptures together every night.
One rainy night they snuggled together in their warm home. Papa said a prayer. Then Mama read stories from the Book of Mormon. Gabriel tried to listen very carefully. Mama read about Jesus talking to children.
“Mama, the children were with Jesus?” Gabriel asked.
“That’s right,” she said. “And He blessed each of them and prayed for them.”
Gabriel felt a new feeling inside. He did not know what it was. He felt warm even though it was chilly outside. He smiled big.
Gabriel wanted to share this special feeling. “I feel so happy and warm!” he said. He was so happy that he almost felt like crying!
“That special feeling is the Holy Ghost,” Papa told him. “He gives you a warm feeling to help you know that the scriptures are true.”
Mama smiled and hugged Gabriel. “That feeling tells you that Jesus loves you.”
“Jesus blesses me,” Gabriel said. “Just like the children in the Book of Mormon! He sent the Holy Ghost to me!”
He couldn’t stop smiling. “I know the scriptures are true,” he thought. “The Holy Ghost told me!”

Katie rummaged through the storage box, carefully looking through the crumpled packing paper. She still couldn’t find what she was looking for.
She put everything back in the box and went to find Mom.
Katie had looked behind the piano, under the couch, even in Thomas’s crib. It was lost. She had to tell Mom.
“Mommy, the baby Jesus is lost!”
Katie led Mom to the nativity set in the living room. Joseph and Mary and the shepherds were there. The Wise Men—even a camel and a donkey—were there. All of the figures were gathered around the empty manger.
“It looks that way, doesn’t it?” Mom said.
“I can’t find Him anywhere! I looked and looked.” The nativity would be ruined without the baby Jesus.
Mom went to the bookshelf. “He isn’t lost,” she said as she reached up and took something from the top shelf.
Katie sighed in relief. “There He is!” she said. “I’ll go put Him in the manger.”
She reached for the figurine, but Mom put it back on the shelf. “This year we’re going to put the baby Jesus in the manger on Christmas morning,” Mom said. “It’s a tradition Dad learned in France.”
“But everyone looks so sad,” Katie said.
“I don’t think they’re sad,” Mom said. “To me, it looks more like they’re waiting.”
Katie looked at the figures. She could see the place in the manger where baby Jesus belonged. Some of the figurines were reaching out to the empty spot.
“I guess so,” Katie said.
“Remember before Thomas was born how excited you were for him to come?” Mom asked.
Katie smiled at her baby brother, who was playing on a blanket. “It felt like forever!” she said.
“Did you know that prophets waited for thousands of years for Jesus to come to help us return to live with Heavenly Father?” Mom asked.
Katie remembered seeing a picture in Primary of a prophet writing about the Savior’s birth. “I think so,” she said.
“Prophets like Isaiah thought about and wrote about what the Savior would do when He came,” Mom said. “They spent their whole lives waiting for Him to be born. That’s one of the reasons we set up the nativity like this, to remind us that many people waited a long time for the Savior to come.”
“I would get tired of waiting my whole life,” Katie said, looking at the shepherds who were waiting for Jesus.
“But there’s also another reason we do this,” Mom said.
“What?”
“Do you remember in family home evening when we talked about the Second Coming?”
Katie thought for a minute. “Isn’t that when Jesus comes again?
“That’s right,” Mom said.
“When will that happen?” Katie asked.
“Well, we don’t know. But we’re waiting for Jesus to come, just like the shepherds in the nativity and just like the ancient prophets. That’s the other reason we’re waiting until Christmas to put the baby Jesus in the nativity—to remind us that we’re waiting for Jesus too.”
“Will He come to a manger again?” Katie asked.
“No, He won’t be a baby again. The next time Jesus comes, He’ll be resurrected. But the empty manger in the nativity reminds us that just like you’re waiting for Christmas morning, and just like people waited for Jesus to come to earth, now we’re waiting for Him to come back. We didn’t lose the baby Jesus. This is part of the way our family plans to remember Him.”
“We just need to wait,” Katie said with a smile.
“That’s right,” Mom said.
“OK,” Katie said. “But while we’re waiting, can we make some sugar cookies?”

Life has some strange turns. When I was a young man I thought I would serve a mission. I graduated from high school in June 1950. Thousands of miles away, one week after that high school graduation, a North Korean army crossed the 38th parallel, and our country was at war. I was 17 years old, but as a member of the Utah National Guard I was soon under orders to prepare for mobilization and active service. Suddenly, for me and for many other young men of my generation, the full-time mission we had planned was not to be.
Another example: After I served as president of Brigham Young University for nine years, I was released. A few months later the governor of the state of Utah appointed me to a 10-year term on the supreme court of this state. I was then 48 years old. My wife June and I tried to plan the rest of our lives. We wanted to serve the full-time mission neither of us had been privileged to serve. We planned that I would serve 20 years on the state supreme court. Then, at the end of two 10-year terms, when I would be nearly 69 years old, I would retire from the supreme court, and we would submit our missionary papers and serve a mission as a couple.
Four years after we made that plan I was called to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles—something we never dreamed would happen. Realizing then that the Lord had different plans and different timing than we had assumed, I resigned as a justice of the supreme court. But this was not the end of the important differences. When I was 66, my wife June died of cancer. Two years later I married Kristen McMain, the eternal companion who now stands at my side.
How fundamentally different my life is than I had sought to plan! My professional life has changed. My personal life has changed. But the commitment I made to the Lord—to put Him first in my life and to be ready for whatever He would have me do—has carried me through these changes of eternal importance.

How can the Lord and His Church help you on your educational path? One young man from Brazil learned they can help in remarkable ways.
College felt scary to Samad: “I didn’t feel like it was for me,” he says. “But my father encouraged me to try BYU–Pathway Worldwide. I was scared and didn’t believe in myself, but I decided to join.”
At first, Samad felt frustrated. “I felt I had not achieved anything,” he says. “I needed light and hope. BYU–Pathway became that hope for me.”
Samad began to gain confidence in himself and in Heavenly Father. “The more I learned each week, the better I felt” he says. “The service missionaries and instructors reminded me of my talents and abilities. The marvelous courses and stories of people who received blessings helped me open my heart and let the Lord change me for the better.”
Samad’s hopelessness and fear of the future washed away with each new term. “I want to share this experience with others who are facing the same fears and anxieties I felt,” he says. “There’s hope in Jesus Christ. He can help you in your education. I took the first step, and I’ll never regret it.”

Soon it was time for Emma’s baby to be born. The pile of manuscript pages had grown thick, and Martin had become convinced that if he could let his wife read the translation, she would see its value and stop interfering with their work.32 He also hoped Lucy would be pleased with how he had spent his time and money to help bring forth God’s word.
One day, Martin asked Joseph for permission to take the manuscript to Palmyra for a few weeks.33 Remembering how Lucy Harris had acted when she visited the house, Joseph was wary of the idea. Yet he wanted to please Martin, who had believed him when so many others had doubted his word.34
Unsure what to do, Joseph prayed for guidance, and the Lord told him not to let Martin take the pages.35 But Martin was sure showing them to his wife would change things, and he begged Joseph to ask again. Joseph did so, but the answer was the same. Martin pressed him to ask a third time, however, and this time God allowed them to do as they pleased.
Joseph told Martin he could take the pages for two weeks if he covenanted to keep them locked up and show them only to certain family members. Martin made the promise and returned to Palmyra, manuscript in hand.36
After Martin left, Moroni appeared to Joseph and took the interpreters from him.37
The day after Martin’s departure, Emma endured an agonizing labor and gave birth to a boy. The baby was frail and sickly and did not live long. The ordeal left Emma physically drained and emotionally devastated, and for a time it seemed she might die too. Joseph tended to her constantly, never leaving her side for long.38
After two weeks, Emma’s health began to improve, and her thoughts turned to Martin and the manuscript. “I feel so uneasy,” she told Joseph, “that I cannot rest and shall not be at ease until I know something about what Mr. Harris is doing with it.”
She urged Joseph to find Martin, but Joseph did not want to leave her. “Send for my mother,” she said, “and she shall stay with me while you are gone.”39
Joseph took a stagecoach north. He ate and slept little during the journey, afraid that he had offended the Lord by not listening when He said not to let Martin take the manuscript.40
The sun was rising when he arrived at his parents’ home in Manchester. The Smiths were preparing breakfast and sent Martin an invitation to join them. By eight o’clock, the meal was on the table but Martin had not come. Joseph and the family started to grow uneasy as they waited for him.
Finally, after more than four hours had passed, Martin appeared in the distance, walking slowly toward the house, his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him.41 At the gate he paused, sat on the fence, and pulled his hat down over his eyes. He then came inside and sat down to eat in silence.
The family watched as Martin picked up his utensils, as if ready to eat, then dropped them. “I have lost my soul!” he cried, pressing his hands on his temples. “I have lost my soul.”
Joseph jumped up. “Martin, have you lost that manuscript?”
“Yes,” Martin said. “It is gone, and I know not where.”
“Oh, my God, my God,” Joseph groaned, clenching his fists. “All is lost!”
He started pacing the floor. He did not know what to do. “Go back,” he ordered Martin. “Search again.”
“It is all in vain,” Martin cried. “I have looked every place in the house. I have even ripped open beds and pillows, and I know it is not there.”
“Must I return to my wife with such a tale?” Joseph feared the news would kill her. “And how shall I appear before the Lord?”
His mother tried to comfort him. She said maybe the Lord would forgive him if he repented humbly. But Joseph was sobbing now, furious at himself for not obeying the Lord the first time. He could barely eat for the rest of the day. He stayed the night and left the next morning for Harmony.42
As his mother, Lucy, watched him go, her heart was heavy. It seemed everything they had hoped for as a family—everything that had brought them joy over the last few years—had fled in a moment.43

The youth of the Idaho Falls Idaho Eagle Rock Stake (left and below) shared their talents and their testimonies as they performed a musical called One Life to celebrate the Prophet Joseph Smith’s birth and life. The musical was so successful that they performed it multiple times for audiences in Idaho.
Krista Klingler, 14, who participated in the ensemble, said, “Doing this play was one of the best experiences of my life. It showed me how great a man Joseph Smith truly was. I am still amazed that at 14 years old he acted upon the principles Heavenly Father revealed to him. From birth to death he lived a remarkable life.”

A second incident happened when I was twenty-nine. My companions and I had climbed Longs Peak in Colorado on a bright September day. Longs Peak is 14,256 feet high. At that altitude one can climb three or four steps before his legs go numb and he has to wait three or four minutes to get his strength back to take three or four more steps.
It was late afternoon when we reached the top. From there I saw a ridge that seemed to begin a thousand feet below and would cut my descent time in half. Unheeding of the warnings of my companions, I started down the north side of the mountain. I had gone down about 500 feet when I suddenly found myself on a field of clear ice that had resulted from a storm the previous night.
I skirted to the left and came to a cliff with a sheer drop of several thousand feet. My only way out of the predicament was back to the top. I shall not tell the dangers of that climb back, but what had taken me two hours on a fairly easy trail earlier in the day I then did in thirty minutes without stopping for breath and without having my legs go numb. Where did the strength come from? Adrenalin? Some may think so, but this was an entirely different strength, one that did not come from me.
That afternoon I learned another lesson. As I climbed, I could hear the whistle of one of my fellows. As I reached the top, there stood Golden Kilburn. The other climbers had gone down the trail, but he had—at some risk to himself—waited for me, feeling that he could not leave until I was accounted for.
Together we descended, reaching the safe portions of the trail at dusk. Had we been delayed much longer, we both would have been caught at night at the 13,500–14,000-feet level without coats. I have wondered many times which would have been the least pleasant, freezing or falling 3,000 feet down over the cliff. I have also wondered about the force that reached out, unknown to me, and made me equal to the altitude for thirty brief minutes.

While reading through the May 2007 issue of the Liahona, I was deeply moved by Elder Jay E. Jensen’s talk, “The Nourishing Power of Hymns.” I too have a strong testimony of the power of hymns. In February 2000, while listening to a local radio show, I heard a song I had never heard before. I not only enjoyed the flow of the music, but I also enjoyed the manner in which the group sang and the message the song carried. I later learned that this song was by a group called Latter-day Saints. I wanted to get the full text of this song. I decided I must visit this church. The first Sunday I attended, my first task was to get a hymnbook. There it was—hymn number 30, “Come, Come, Ye Saints.” I was baptized a few months later.
Richard S. Scotland, Liberia

Five young women from the Graham Second Ward, Puyallup Washington South Stake, accepted the challenge of writing a song to fit in with the Young Women theme for the year. For nearly a month Sheree Judkins, Shannon Sampson, Judy Moss, Kendra Booker, and Angie Shutt, met together under the direction of Diane Andersen Beck, and composed both the lyrics and the musical accompaniment.
The song was presented at the Young Women stake leadership meeting. Touched by the beauty and message of the song, the leaders asked that it be performed at stake conference.

My younger brother is silly, has a great imagination, and cares about others. He is one of my biggest fans when I perform on stage. He also has some special needs. He is very small for his age and struggles with reading, writing, talking, and sometimes understanding others. He is also deaf.
One day at play practice, I walked up the stairs to get to the stage. I heard someone say something mean about kids with disabilities. Everyone started to joke and laugh about it.
I know they didn’t mean to hurt my feelings, but I got really sad and ran to find a place to hide. As I was sitting in my hiding spot, a grown-up sat by me and started to talk to me about the play. I started to feel better.
When it was time to go home, I told my mom what happened. She told me that it’s OK to walk away from something that makes me feel bad and that it’s OK to talk to a grown-up about my feelings.
Sometimes people don’t understand how it feels to have special needs or to know someone who has special needs. I want to be an example of love and kindness.

Henry Eyring, a leading scientist and a great teacher who recently passed away, would have contests with his students. Even in his mid-sixties he could standing broad jump to the top of his desk. He challenged university students to a thirty- or forty-yard foot race.
One day just a few short years before he died, he was in the Church Administration Building. His brother-in-law, President Spencer W. Kimball, came out of his office and saw Henry Eyring standing there with a cane. He said, “Henry, what is the cane for?”
And Henry Eyring said, “Style, President, style.”
No wonder he had such an influence on the minds of young men all over the Church. He had “style.”

5. Publicize and recruit.
It took time for some of the youth in the stake to get used to the idea of a service-oriented conference. The stake youth leadership held a fireside to build up enthusiasm. One boy, Todd, who at first did not want to become involved in the project, later surprised everyone with his enthusiasm. The builders showed him what needed to be done, and he worked like a professional. Todd also developed a good relationship with another, rather lonely boy, by working with him and showing him how to use tools. The two boys not only established a friendship between themselves but with the adults as well.

I can promise you that by sharing your time, effort, and ability you’ll leave yourself and others richer. This year I gave my mom a certificate for helping with the spring cleaning. After a full day of scouring walls, scrubbing floors, washing windows, and ironing curtains, I told her it would be much easier just to buy a nice present. “Yes,” she said, “but it wouldn’t be appreciated as much.” And I knew that it wouldn’t be my last “gift certificate” after all.

Let me begin with a legend. There is a story of a grandfather, a holy man, who, caring for his grandson, sent him out to play. Shortly the boy returned sobbing as if his heart would break. He explained, “I was playing hide-and-seek with my friends. I went and hid and waited but no one came for me. They all ran away.” The grandfather embraced him and said, “Now you know how God feels. He hides and no one comes for him.”

Just before our esteemed, honored Apostle and special friend of Aaronic Priesthood and their leaders worldwide, Elder Bruce R. McConkie, passed away nearly four and one-half years ago, with his sweetheart and eternal companion, Amelia, at his bedside, some very significant words were shared. As Sister McConkie held his hand during his final earthly minutes, she asked, “Bruce, do you have a message for me?” Though weak and expiring, he responded in a firm voice his last words, “Carry on.”
Here was one of God’s choicest servants, who had studied, pondered, and written as extensively on the life and mission of Jesus Christ as anyone else in his time, using these two powerful words for direction and encouragement. Sister McConkie has since shared with me the great importance and strength of “carry on” as time has passed. Elder McConkie knew as a special witness the importance of, “Then said Jesus to those Jews which believed on him, If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed;
“And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” (John 8:31–32.) Salvation and exaltation are here emphasized as being based primarily upon commitment and enduring.

I love sparkly things. I always have. I love how sparkles capture and reflect light, and I think that’s why I love crystal chandeliers so much. I especially love the crystal chandeliers in the temple.
I remember reverently walking through a temple open house with my family when I was only nine years old. I’ll never forget standing under the chandeliers in the celestial room in absolute awe. I couldn’t believe how beautiful, clean, and white everything was.
When we walked out of the temple, my grandpa told me he had a gift for me. My eyes grew bigger as my grandpa pulled a sparkly necklace from his pocket. It was a long chain with a small, single crystal on the end—just like the ones in the temple.
“I made this for you,” my grandpa said as he tied the necklace around my neck. My grandpa is an electrician. He sells all kinds of beautiful light fixtures. He told me he made the necklace with an extra crystal from his shop and he wanted me to wear it so it would remind me of the temple.
He asked me to promise I would go to the temple someday, and he bore his testimony of how the temple had blessed his life and how it can bless everyone’s lives. Every time I wore my crystal necklace I would think of the temple and how I wanted to go inside. I always remembered that promise I made to my grandpa.
When I was finally old enough to go do baptisms at the temple, I loved every chance I got to go. In the temple, I have always felt connected to my Heavenly Father. And I will never forget the feeling I had after receiving my endowment. After that sacred experience, I walked into the celestial room and hugged my grandpa under the beautiful crystal chandelier.
My grandpa was right about how the temple can bless our lives. It has continued to bless me my entire life because it helps me remember my purpose here on earth.

When I was 10 years old, my family moved from Denmark to Canada. We had lived there only a little while when two sisters who lived across the street from our new home invited me and my 12-year-old brother, Poul, to take a bus ride with them to see the city.
Poul and I were excited to go. My mother wasn’t sure about the idea, but she finally gave in. Mother gave the two girls the money for our bus ride. She asked them to look after us because my brother and I didn’t speak English yet. The girls promised they would take good care of us.
We all got on the bus and started the ride. After a while the bus stopped, and the girls motioned for us to get off. We followed them as we all started walking around the city.
Then suddenly the two girls started running in different directions! We tried to follow them, but they disappeared around unfamiliar corners. At first we thought they were just playing a trick on us and would soon come back. But after a while we knew we were lost and on our own.
“Should we ask someone for directions?” I asked Poul.
“We can’t speak English, and we don’t know our address,” he answered.
“Let’s call Mother,” I suggested, pointing to a nearby phone booth.
“We have no money, and we don’t know our phone number,” Poul said.
I started to cry. Poul put his arm around me. “Stay calm, Anne-Mette. Let’s say a prayer.”
We huddled together and asked Heavenly Father to help us find our way back home.
After the prayer Poul pointed down a street. “I feel we need to go this way,” he said.
I started to cry again. How could he know which way to go?
Poul comforted me again. “You need to have faith that we will be guided,” he said.
When he said that, a feeling of peace came over me. I had the thought that I needed to have faith and let my brother guide me.
After walking a long time, we came to a pond. “Do you remember this pond?” Poul asked. “We drove past it on our way from the airport to our new home!”
I felt better hearing the excitement in his voice. We sat down by the pond and said another prayer.
Suddenly Poul looked into the distance. “Do you see that?” he shouted. He got up and started running, and I jumped up to follow him.
“What do you see?” I called.
“It’s the Laundromat sign near our house!”
We followed the sign to our street, and soon we could see our mother standing outside the house. We ran to her and hugged her.
When we went inside, Mother said, “When I saw the two girls come home, I went over to ask where you were. Their mother was not very nice. She said we are foreigners and we should go back where we came from.”
Mother put her arms around us both. “I want you to know that not everyone here feels that way. We will meet many people who will welcome us and be our friends. Those girls left you alone today, but I’m glad you remembered that Heavenly Father will never leave you alone.”
Then we knelt down and thanked Heavenly Father for guiding us safely home.

One of my haunting childhood memories begins with the howl of distant air-raid sirens that awaken me from sleep. Before long, another sound, the rattle and hum of propellers, gradually increases until it shakes the very air. Trained well by our mother, we children each grab our bag and run up the hill to a bomb shelter. As we hurry through the pitch-dark night, green and white flares drop from the sky to mark the targets for the bombers. Strangely enough, everyone calls these flares Christmas trees.
I am four years old, and I am a witness to a world at war.
Not far from where my family lived was the city of Dresden. Those who lived there witnessed perhaps a thousand times what I had seen. Massive firestorms, caused by thousands of tons of explosives, swept through Dresden, destroying more than 90 percent of the city and leaving little but rubble and ash in their wake.
In a very short time, the city once nicknamed the “Jewel Box” was no more. Erich Kästner, a German author, wrote of the destruction, “In a thousand years was her beauty built, in one night was it utterly destroyed.” During my childhood I could not imagine how the destruction of a war our own people had started could ever be overcome. The world around us appeared totally hopeless and without any future.
Last year I had the opportunity to return to Dresden. Seventy years after the war, it is, once again, a “Jewel Box” of a city. The ruins have been cleared, and the city is restored and even improved.
During my visit I saw the beautiful Lutheran church Frauenkirche, the Church of Our Lady. Originally built in the 1700s, it had been one of Dresden’s shining jewels, but the war reduced it to a pile of rubble. For many years it remained that way, until finally it was determined that the Frauenkirche would be rebuilt.
Stones from the destroyed church had been stored and cataloged and, when possible, were used in the reconstruction. Today you can see these fire-blackened stones pockmarking the outer walls. These “scars” are not only a reminder of the war history of this building but also a monument to hope—a magnificent symbol of man’s ability to create new life from ashes.
As I pondered the history of Dresden and marveled at the ingenuity and resolve of those who restored what had been so completely destroyed, I felt the sweet influence of the Holy Spirit. Surely, I thought, if man can take the ruins, rubble, and remains of a broken city and rebuild an awe-inspiring structure that rises toward the heavens, how much more capable is our Almighty Father to restore His children who have fallen, struggled, or become lost?