Gospel Story Finder

Jaslyn Simpson took a leap of faith in a Beehive class of only two young women. The Beehive adviser in the Crofton Downs Ward, Wellington New Zealand Stake, challenged the Beehives, as part of a lesson on missionary work, to invite a friend to church. And Jaslyn decided she would do it.
“I knew there was something missing in Amy’s life,” Jaslyn says, “so I knew I should introduce her to the gospel.” Jaslyn’s small act of love triggered a major change in the life of her best friend, Amy Valentine. Amy came to church with Jaslyn at the first invitation. She kept coming to Sunday meetings and weeknight activities for the next two months, until Jaslyn and her family moved to Sydney, Australia.
“I had never really had a Christian background. I had no idea how to pray or anything,” Amy says. “But before Jaslyn and her family moved, I decided I was going to keep going to church without them. By then, I knew some other people at church.”
One of those people was Michelle Broczek, the other Beehive in the Crofton Downs Ward. Michelle invited Amy to take the missionary discussions in her home and, with her parents’ approval, Amy was baptized when she was 13. That was five years ago.

During my growing-up years in the small farming community of Spring City, Utah, an opportunity afforded itself each summer to be with my father alone for two weeks herding sheep in the mountain range of the Manti-La Sal. On one occasion the fog rested heavily in the area to the extent that you could not see your outstretched hand in front of you, and the evening was drawing nigh.
My father suggested that I return to camp, and he would soon follow. I remember questioning how I would be able to find the camp amidst the fog. My father simply said to me, “Give the horse the reins, and he will get you to camp.” Following this counsel, I loosened my grip on the reins, and with encouragement to the horse, the journey began. At times I would be struck in the face by a low-hanging limb I couldn’t see or have my leg brush close to a tree. Eventually, the horse came to a complete stop, and the silhouette of the camp was in view.
Sometimes we may not always be able to immediately find the desired way before us, but the wisdom of those who have gone before, coupled with the wisdom of those who are with us still, will be our guide if we let them have the reins.
“Understandest thou what thou readest?” was the question asked by Philip of one who was diligently searching the scriptures.
The response came in the form of a question: “How can I, except some man should guide me?”1
The answer to these searching questions comes from the prophets throughout ages past who taught the importance of searching the scriptures, along with a promise: “Whoso treasureth up my word, shall not be deceived.”2
In each dispensation, the Lord has given commandments to the prophets “that they should proclaim these things unto the world; and all this that it might be fulfilled.”3 Doctrine and Covenants section 1 constitutes the Lord’s preface to the doctrines, covenants, and commandments given in this, the dispensation of the fulness of times. Of specific mention are verses 37–38:
“Search these commandments, for they are true and faithful, and the prophecies and promises which are in them shall all be fulfilled.
“What I the Lord have spoken, I have spoken, and I excuse not myself; and though the heavens and the earth pass away, my word shall not pass away, but shall all be fulfilled, whether by mine own voice or by the voice of my servants, it is the same.”
It is the voice of seven of the Lord’s servants of which I speak today. In March 1970, a long hoped-for desire to be of service to the Lord’s chosen servants commenced. From the very outset, opportunities were provided to be directly involved with the Brethren of the Quorum of the Twelve and subsequently with members of the First Presidency for almost four decades. It was during these formative years that an understanding of “my word shall not pass away, but shall all be fulfilled” began to swell in my heart.
Important admonition has been given in general conferences of yesteryear and will continue to be expounded by those who have the wisdom of ages past, which allows our hearts to burn within us. It will be in following such counsel that we must be strong, never give up, and endure to the end.
Let me share the direction and counsel given by these prophets of God. For example, it was President Joseph Fielding Smith who often quoted the words set forth in the 24th chapter of Psalms, wherein a question is asked, an answer given, and a blessing promised to the faithful.
The question: “Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in his holy place?”
The answer: “He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully.”
The promise: “He shall receive the blessing from the Lord, and righteousness from the God of his salvation.”4
President Harold B. Lee in general conference counseled us to give heed to the words and commandments the Lord shall give through His prophet: “You may not like what comes from the authority of the Church. It may contradict your political views … [or] your social views. It may interfere with some of your social life. But if [we] listen to these things, as if from the mouth of the Lord himself, with patience and faith, the promise is that … ‘the Lord God will disperse the powers of darkness from before you, and cause the heavens to shake for your good, and his name’s glory.’”5
Prior to his passing in December 1973, President Lee, speaking to an assembled group of Church employees and their families, posed the question after giving a history of the Church’s welfare program: “Do you believe these prophets knew what they were talking about?” Later in the same address, concerning the Brethren’s counsel to guard against the permissiveness invading the home through inappropriate literature and television, he asked, “Are you too close to the Brethren [so that you] think of them not as prophets but as men just guessing [such counsel] might be a good thing?”6
It was President Spencer W. Kimball who in his writings provided us the comforting words that there is a miracle of forgiveness and God will forgive. In another setting, concerning the unexpected challenges which we may face, President Kimball cautioned us, if individually given the power to alter life-changing moments, would we have modified the events at Carthage Jail which resulted in the death of the Prophet Joseph Smith? And more importantly, with such uncontrolled power, what might we have done in the decisive moment of Gethsemane and the words spoken, “Nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done”?7
Each morning in the meeting of the First Presidency, the Brethren take turns praying. I always liked to listen to President Ezra Taft Benson pray. His prayers were almost entirely in thankfulness instead of asking for blessings. Of Another Testament of Jesus Christ, President Benson reiterated the words of the Prophet Joseph Smith “that the Book of Mormon was the most correct of any book on earth, and the keystone of our religion, and a man would get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts, than by any other book.”8 He admonished us to follow the Savior, who said, “Look unto me, and endure to the end, and ye shall live; for unto him that endureth to the end will I give eternal life.”9
During his nine-month period of service as President of the Church, we all fell in love with the innate goodness of President Howard W. Hunter, who issued invitations for members of the Church to:
“Live with ever more attention to the life and example of the Lord Jesus Christ, especially the love and hope and compassion He displayed. …
“… Establish the temple of the Lord as the great symbol of their membership and the supernal setting for their most sacred covenants. It would be the deepest desire of my heart to have every member of the Church be temple worthy.”10
President Gordon B. Hinckley stated: “I have not spoken face to face with all of the prophets of this dispensation. I was not acquainted with the Prophet Joseph Smith, nor did I ever hear him speak. [However,] my grandfather, who as a young man lived in Nauvoo, did hear him and testified of his divine calling as the great prophet of this dispensation.”11
President Hinckley bore witness of the First Vision, when young Joseph Smith went to pray in a grove and received his answer through divine revelation from both the Father and the Son.
President Hinckley’s passion with the building of temples and the sacred work performed therein will be a polar star for each of us to follow.
Our beloved prophet, President Thomas S. Monson, has reemphasized again the hoped-for desire of the First Presidency who in 1839 gave the direction we should constantly seek even today: “Upon your diligence, your perseverance and faithfulness, the soundness of the doctrines which you preach, the moral precepts that you advance and practice … hang the destinies of the human family.”12
It is President Monson whom we sustain as the prophet, seer, and revelator and who serves as the resounding voice to the widow, the fatherless, and to all who stand in need. He has truly exemplified in his life the pattern of the Master and the sincere desire to always be found in His service. It is President Monson who is the Lord’s mouthpiece and whose counsel and direction we are admonished to follow. In a very real sense, the Master speaks to us through His prophet. I know, and have recorded in meetings of the Brethren assembled, this to be true.
As one who has been taught at the feet of living prophets and of these latter-day witnesses whom I have known and love, I testify in all truthfulness, as members of this Church heed the words and commandments the Lord gave to the prophets of the testaments and followed by the Lord’s prophet even today, we will more fully understand that “surely the Lord God will do nothing, but he revealeth his secret unto his servants the prophets.”13
Of these truths and that God is in the heavens, that Jesus is the Christ, and of this The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, which has prophets, seers, and revelators to guide us, I bear solemn witness in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

It took me many years to learn how well Heavenly Father knows and loves each one of us. And when I finally had a better idea of this, I realized I had some sore repenting to do for the offenses I had caused Randa.
I called her and asked her forgiveness for all the unkind things I had said and done at her expense. She could only remember one time I was cruel. Her memory had been much kinder to me than mine was. She freely forgave me.

Some of the first forks were brought to Europe from Byzantium, a rich and powerful empire to the east. About a thousand years ago a Byzantine princess came to live in Venice, a city in Italy. She ate with a fork. The priests thought her way of eating was so fancy that it was sinful. They scolded her. They preached against her in church. Soon afterward, the princess caught a terrible disease and died. Many people believed that she was punished for using her fork.

I was 12 years old when Gilbert, a category five hurricane, hit Jamaica.1 I remember being in a church meeting a few months earlier when a message from President Ezra Taft Benson (1899–1994), then prophet of the Church and the beloved prophet of my childhood, invited the Saints to prepare for emergencies through water and food storage, staying out of debt and saving as much as possible. In my family, trying to have food storage seemed impossible, and for a 12-year-old boy, it just did not seem important. Furthermore, at the time the message came, there was no immediate need to heed that counsel.
On the morning the hurricane was expected to arrive, I went to school. It was raining, and when I got to the school gate it was locked with the security guard telling all students to go home. His question to all of us was, “Didn’t you watch the news?” It was my first hurricane experience and one I would never forget.
That night, throughout the turbulence of the hurricane with howling winds and crashing roofs, my family prayed, held each other and cried. I remember we had visitors staying with us from Canada and the woman crying into her husband’s arms asking why they came to Jamaica to die.
The light of the next morning made it clear that Hurricane Gilbert was the worst hurricane Jamaica had experienced in a long time. It wreaked havoc on our country and many households would be without electricity, water and basic food supplies for weeks. In my home, we had made minimal preparations and were among the many wishing we could get bread, ice, meat, or crackers. I longed for a cold drink of water or a nice slice of warm bread. I wondered if we would ever stop eating corned beef and tinned mackerel. We had many dark nights because candles were scarce, and the places to buy lamp oil were like battlefields of war.
I share this story from my childhood because I heard my grandmother and many members of the Church testify in the weeks following this terrible disaster that they remembered hearing the letter from the prophet read in sacrament meeting to prepare, and they all expressed regret that they did not. Even though this was a difficult lesson to learn, it was also testimony building because all in attendance declared their sure knowledge that we were being led by prophets and apostles who knew how to guide us. For a boy of 12 years old who had just experienced something unforgettable, these testimonies entered my heart, and I decided then to heed the warnings of prophets.

A prospective elder in Utah was afraid to go to church because he didn’t want to be called on to pray or answer questions. After two months of being taught the gospel in their home, he and his wife accepted an invitation to attend the temple preparation seminar. Shortly afterward, they made church attendance their goal, despite the man’s fears. It was their decision, arising out of their progress in learning the gospel. He’s now been ordained an elder, and he and his wife have been sealed in the temple.

A few weeks ago, I was hurried and frazzled, with too many to-dos on my list. I had hoped to go to the temple that day but felt I was just too busy. As soon as that thought of being too busy for temple service crossed my mind, it awakened me to what I most needed to do. I left my office to walk over to the Salt Lake Temple, wondering when I was going to recapture the time I was losing. Thankfully, the Lord is patient and merciful and taught me a beautiful lesson that day.
As I sat down in the session room, a young sister leaned over and reverently whispered, “I’m really nervous. This is only my second time in the temple. Could you please help me?” How could she ever have known that those words were exactly what I needed to hear? She didn’t know, but Heavenly Father knew. He had observed my greatest need. I needed to serve. He prompted this humble young sister to serve me by inviting me to serve her. I assure you that I was the one who benefited most.

The gospel is an important part of his life. The family travels by car about twenty minutes to attend the Rotterdam Second Ward. His mother, Ineke, is a teacher in Relief Society, and his father, Bert, is the elders quorum president. When Jonathan’s CTR teacher assigns him to give a talk, he eagerly accepts. He enjoys telling the children one of his favorite scripture stories. A while ago, he told the story about Joseph’s brothers selling him to a passing caravan and then about Joseph’s life in Egypt.
Every morning the family reads the Book of Mormon, sings, and has family prayer. In the evening they read Bible stories or Church publications, sing, and have family prayer. Once Jonathan has heard a scripture story, he has the unusual ability of picturing it in his mind like a movie, so he never forgets it. He likes the story of Ammon because it teaches him that “if I trust in the Lord, then I’ll be OK and successful.”
What does Jonathan like to do at family home evening? He especially enjoys watching a Church video or having a lesson on the early pioneers and the sacrifices they made. The best outdoor activity is riding bicycles to the country. He enjoys the fresh air and stopping for french fries.
With a hearty appetite, he eagerly eats his mother’s cooking and looks forward every week to Monday’s menu of curry macaroni. A pannekoeken (crepelike pancake), fondue (small pieces of meat cooked in hot oil), a cheeseburger, and an uitsmyter (a slice of bread topped with a fried egg, ham, roast beef, cheese, tomato, and pickle) are always good, too.
Tidying the living room, organizing books, washing dishes, and hoovering (vacuuming) are a few of his chores. He would like to have a garden someday and grow herbs, tomatoes, carrots, and potatoes so that his mother won’t need to buy them at the store.
School is just a two-minute walk away. A very good student, Jonathan likes class better than recess! He enjoys all his subjects except writing, and he is now beginning to like it, too. His favorite books are a series, called Pietje Bell (Little Peter Bell) about a mischievous boy.
From a very young age, Jonathan has had a testimony of the gospel. At the age of three, he, with his father’s help, bore his testimony in sacrament meeting. Then they sang “Zielslief heeft ‘t hart van de Herder” (“Dear to the Heart of the Shepherd”). Everyone in the congregation was so touched that they cried.
It is important to Jonathan to live Jesus Christ’s teachings. When his father told him that there were many children who did not have toys like he did, he immediately put many of his toys into a box to give them away. They took the toys to a group of refugees, and Jonathan handed them out to the children. Tears filled his eyes as he saw how happy they were to get the toys. Later he told his father, “Now I know what Jesus means when He said to give. I have a warm feeling inside.”
When asked if he wants to serve a mission someday, Jonathan gives a very enthusiastic yes! He is preparing for it now by saving his money and studying the Bible and the Book of Mormon. He also knows that it is important not to do shopping on Sunday. If anyone ever asks him if he wants to go to his favorite hamburger place on Sunday, he tells them, “No thank you.” He knows that obeying the Word of Wisdom is important, too.
What would he tell people about the Church? “I would tell them that they would do well to come to church. Then I’d ask them, what do you prefer, a good time on earth or a wonderful time forever?” He would also share his testimony of the gospel: “I know that Jesus is our Redeemer and that He died for us and took our sins away. Jesus made it possible for us to live with Heavenly Father forever. I am grateful that Jesus Christ ‘built’ the Church. I know it is good to be in a family that has the richness of the gospel, which is better than a home with lots of money. I am grateful for my parents and little brother.”

My father was an example for me of what the Lord teaches in the 121st section about getting heaven’s help in preparing young men. During my early years, he was sometimes disappointed by my performance. He let me know it. Hearing his voice, I could feel he thought I was better than that. But he did it in the Lord’s way: “Reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy.”3

I knew, even after the most direct correction, that Dad’s reproof was given in love. In fact, his love seemed to increase when he used even his strongest correction, which was a disapproving and disappointed look. He was my leader and my trainer, never using compulsory means, and I am sure that the promise given in the Doctrine and Covenants will be fulfilled for him. His influence on me will flow unto him “forever and ever.”4

After Old Panama burned down, the people of Panama chose a location a few miles away that was easier to defend and started building their city from scratch. It probably wasn’t easy, but the results soar above Old Panama’s ruins.

Mayka and Minerva Moreno’s personal progress has followed a similar course. When the sisters joined the Church, Mayka was the age of the Beehive girls, and Minerva was only a few months away from entering the Young Women program. They were essentially starting from scratch in the gospel, without the benefit of a foundation built in Primary. Now, several years later, they look back at what Personal Progress did for them as new converts.

“We didn’t get to go through Primary,” Mayka says. “Personal Progress helped me to understand the doctrines of the gospel. It strengthened my testimony a lot about Christ’s Atonement and other things I didn’t understand.”

“I’ve learned so much more about the gospel and about Joseph Smith,” says Minerva. “I’ve been able to figure out what are the lies some say about the Church and what is the truth.”

Their mother, Justa, has noticed their progress as well. “I’ve seen a great change in them,” says Justa. “It’s been complete, 100 percent, but for the good—in their daily lives, their behavior, their friends, in school.”

“I have learned so many things,” Mayka says. “I’m not the same person I was. I’m better.”

During the difficult year of 2021, the number of refugees and asylum seekers seeking a better life increased. Thankfully, the Oasis Cardiff centre stepped in to help them integrate with our communities and provide them with the necessities that were not otherwise easily available to them.
For most of us, there is much to look forward to over November and December, but for others it is a time of despair and going without. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Cardiff wanted to try and change this and make a difference.
During this time, members of the Cardiff Stake, with the help of local communities around the stake and a donation from LDS Charities, gathered toiletries and teddy bears for approximately 150 people to help them enjoy the festive season more than they might otherwise have done.
The willingness of volunteers from local communities to help was amazing. Several shopping trips were required to acquire items, including over 350 packs of nappies. Many members, including full-time missionaries and youth, came together to pack 150 toiletry packs for the refugees. Even the South Wales Police helped by providing a large van to transport the nappies and toiletries collected.
The packs were donated to refuges on December 10—the response was phenomenal. Volunteers were very grateful to be able to give to people in need.
Jacci Peach from Oasis Cardiff said, “The generous donation of nappies and toiletries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints have so far been given to 95 families and individuals. Additionally, 51 children aged up to 8 have also received a teddy. Most of these children would not have received anything for Christmas. In fact, most would’ve had no toys at home at all.
“What seems like a little thing to so many can mean the world to an asylum seeker. Being able to stay clean is a simple ‘luxury’ that ensures dignity and some sense of normality. Thank you so much for your kind donations, they are much appreciated!”

“In 1915 President Joseph F. Smith asked the people of the Church to have family home evening. My father said we would do so, that we would warm up the parlor where Mother’s grand piano stood and do what the President of the Church had asked.
“We were miserable performers as children. We could do all kinds of things together while playing, but for one of us to try to sing a solo before the others was like asking ice cream to stay hard on the kitchen stove. In the beginning, we would laugh and make cute remarks about one another’s performance. But our parents persisted. We sang together. We prayed together. We listened quietly while Mother read Bible and Book of Mormon stories. Father told us stories out of his memory. …
“Out of those simple little meetings, held in the parlor of our old home, came something indescribable and wonderful. Our love for our parents was strengthened. Our love for brothers and sisters was enhanced. Our love for the Lord was increased. An appreciation for simple goodness grew in our hearts. These wonderful things came about because our parents followed the counsel of the President of the Church” (“Some Lessons I Learned as a Boy,” Ensign, May 1993, 54).

A number of years ago our family had the privilege of serving a mission in Belgium and France. We had six small children, including a new baby born in that country. Before Christmas we had written home for some clothing and Christmas gifts for our children. They did not arrive in time for Christmas as we had hoped.
As we sat together Christmas Eve reading the New Testament and the account of the birth of the Savior, there was a little melancholy because there would not be many gifts. But as we read the words about the gift our Father in Heaven had given, his beloved Son, Jesus, we realized that there were many in our city who needed help. So we quickly gathered together some of our possessions and a Christmas box of groceries and sought out one of those families.
As we all visited that tiny apartment and began to sing Christmas carols, our hearts were full as perhaps never before. We felt the spirit of giving, we felt the spirit of those who were receiving, and we felt the spirit of our Father in Heaven. We returned to our home that Christmas Eve with a far greater gift than those gifts we had anticipated from home. Truly, the only real gift is the gift of oneself.

I am reminded of an experience I had with a fine old Christian gentleman—a great Constitutional lawyer—named John D. Miller during an evening he spent in our home in Washington, D.C. After an hour of visiting in the living room, Sister Benson and the daughters who had been preparing the dinner announced that it was ready. We went into the dining room, and the children started preparing chairs for family prayer. And so I said to Judge Miller, “Judge, it’s customary in our home to have family prayer, daily devotion, morning and evening. Would you care to join us?” He said, “Yes, I would.” Then he watched the children to see what they did, and then knelt at his chair. We called on our oldest daughter, who was then probably eight or nine years of age, to lead the prayer. She is now the mother of five children, the wife of a stake president. Barbara offered a sweet, lovely prayer, and then she added, “And Heavenly Father, bless Judge Miller that he will enjoy his visit with us and return safely to his hotel.” That was all.

We drove the judge down to his hotel. Nothing was said of the incident.

About six months later this man was host to some 25 or 30 industrial, business, labor, and agricultural leaders at his winter home in Florida. After the dinner they were seated in the large living room talking about problems facing the nation, and as often happens-more often I think than we realize—the subject turned to things of the spirit—to religion. And then John D. Miller, this fine Christian gentleman, not a member of the Church, told of this little incident that had happened in our home—this simple thing of family prayer. And he said, “Gentlemen, I went to my hotel that night feeling that I had not fully measured up as a father. We had never had devotion in our home with my children.” And then he went on to tell of the power he felt must be in the lives of children reared in a home where there is spirituality.

We take it for granted as Latter-day Saints. I presume we don’t think it’s anything particularly special.

Sitting in a hastily dug defensive position, I looked out over the sand toward the north—toward Iraq. It was December 24 during Desert Shield, and I had drawn guard duty starting at midnight.
I was the only Latter-day Saint in my battalion, so the holiday was even lonelier. We had been in the desert of Saudi Arabia since August, and now Christmas was here with a cold, star-lit night. The camp was asleep, and I had a few hours with the bluish-grey dunes and my thoughts.
I thought of my wife and son in Georgia, USA, and how I would miss the festivities back home—the tree, the presents, a real Christmas dinner. Then I began to ponder the Christmas story.
I wondered about the night that Christ was born. I wondered how dark it was and if there was a moon to cast its brightness over the landscape or if there was only starlight. Since there were no electric lights at His birth, the night must have been something like the one I was witnessing. There would have been no festivities—just dark, quiet night.
Then a wonderful thought struck me. The Bible states that Wise Men later came from the East, guided by a star that appeared in the night sky. As I looked into the dark sky, I realized I was to the east of Bethlehem and that one of the centers of knowledge at that time was Baghdad. Could the Wise Men have come from a location not far from where I was? What star shone? Was it still in the sky? Could I see it?
I gazed skyward in wonder at God’s creations and felt a warmth that came from within. It did not matter if I was in the same location or if the same star was in the sky. What mattered is that I shared the same knowledge as the Wise Men of an infant born in Bethlehem who is the King of kings.
I was not alone that Christmas; rather, I was united with all those who seek Him, whether they be Wise Men, prophets, or just lonely soldiers in a hole in the desert. That night my testimony of the birth of the Savior was strengthened, and the next morning the Holy Spirit was still with me.
Instead of being a sad Christmas that year, it became one of my most prized Christmases.

But what of an existence beyond death? Is death the end of all? Robert Blatchford, in his book God and My Neighbor, attacked with vigor accepted Christian beliefs such as God, Christ, prayer, and particularly immortality. He boldly asserted that death was the end of our existence and that no one could prove otherwise. Then a surprising thing happened. His wall of skepticism suddenly crumbled to dust. He was left exposed and undefended. Slowly he began to feel his way back to the faith he had ridiculed and abandoned. What had caused this profound change in his outlook? His wife died. With a broken heart he went into the room where lay all that was mortal of her. He looked again at the face he loved so well. Coming out, he said to a friend: “It is she, and yet it is not she. Everything is changed. Something that was there before is taken away. She is not the same. What can be gone if it be not the soul?”

Later he wrote: “Death is not what some people imagine. It is only like going into another room. In that other room we shall find … the dear women and men and the sweet children we have loved and lost.”

Josh fidgeted on the bench. Sacrament meeting had already lasted an hour, and he was tired of sitting. He was tired of being quiet too. His feet didn’t quite reach the floor, and that made his legs hurt.
When he tried to ask his mother what the speaker’s talk was about, she said, “Shh.”
Josh looked around him at his friends. Tammy was coloring a picture of Captain Moroni. Jody was making a Noah’s Ark out of a piece of paper. Josh wanted to do that, too, but his father told him that it made too much noise. “Try thinking about Jesus,” his father whispered to him. “Remember, Jesus wants us to be reverent in church.”
“I’m trying,” Josh whispered back.
Josh couldn’t wait until Primary. Sister Cheshire always had such good stories in his CTR-A class that he could sit for almost twenty minutes without wiggling.
As soon as Sunday School singing practice was over, he jumped up from the bench and started to run to the Primary room. He stopped when he saw the Primary president. She smiled at him. Josh walked the rest of the way to class, but he walked very fast.
Today Sister Cheshire told the class that she needed their help. “I want each of you to name a way you can show Jesus that you love Him.”
“Going to Primary,” Jody volunteered.
“Picking up my papers after sacrament meeting,” Tammy said.
Sister Cheshire smiled. “Those are both good ways. What about you, Josh? Can you think of a way of showing your love for Jesus?”
Josh thought hard. “Being reverent,” he said.
“That’s a very important way,” his teacher agreed. “How can we be reverent?”
“That’s easy,” Tammy said. “We just have to be quiet.”
“What do you think, Josh?” Sister Cheshire asked.
Josh looked at his teacher. “We can be quiet anytime,” he said, frowning thoughtfully.
“That’s right,” his teacher said. “Being reverent means more than just being quiet.”
“My father said I should try thinking about Jesus during sacrament meeting. I tried, but I kept thinking about other things.”
Sister Cheshire held up a picture of Jesus in a white robe. His face was kind and gentle. “When we partake of the sacrament, we promise that we will always remember Jesus. Now, what does the bread represent?”
“His body,” Jody said before anyone else could answer.
“The water’s supposed to stand for His blood,” Tammy added.
Sister Cheshire smiled. “You’re both right. The water is a symbol of Christ’s blood, just as the bread is a symbol of His body.” She looked at Josh. “What do you think about when you see a picture of Jesus?”
“I think about how much He must have loved us,” Josh said slowly.
He looked at Sister Cheshire. She was crying.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said, feeling like he might start crying too.
“It’s all right, Josh. I’m crying because you’re right—Jesus does love us very much—so much that He was willing to die for us.” She handed a small copy of the picture to each child. “When you come to church next week, I want each of you to bring this picture with you. It will help you remember Jesus when the sacrament is being passed.”
Josh stared at his picture. Jesus looked as if He was smiling right at him. Slipping it inside his Bible, he said, “Thank you, Sister Cheshire.”
“Thank you, Josh, for helping us better understand how we can be reverent. Will you say our closing prayer now, please?”
Josh started the prayer the way he always did. Then, after thanking Heavenly Father for Primary and his teacher and the beautiful day, he remembered the picture and said, “Heavenly Father, please help us to remember Jesus and show Him that we love Him by being reverent.”
He felt good a few minutes later as he walked down the hall, telling his mother and father about the lesson and showing them his picture of the Savior.

One Sunday I was substituting in a Primary class of particularly rambunctious five-year-olds. The lesson was about love. We began by singing the song “Jesus Said Love Everyone.”
Afterward I commented, “Jesus loves everyone, and we must do that, too.”
Robbie challenged me. “Oh, no, he doesn’t love everyone—he doesn’t love the bad people!”
“Yes, Robbie, he loves everyone.”
“He doesn’t love the robbers.”
“Even the robbers.”
Robbie thought a minute and said, “I know some people he didn’t love—he didn’t love the men who killed him!”
At that point I told Robbie about the Crucifixion.
“When Jesus hung on the cross,” Robbie interrupted me, “did they really put nails in his hands and feet?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, that must have hurt.”
“Yes, it did. Even after that happened, as Jesus hung on the cross in great pain, he said, ‘Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.’ (Luke 23:34.) Jesus was speaking about the men who had placed him on the cross. He asked Heavenly Father to forgive them. Yes, Robbie, Jesus even loved these people, and he forgave them.”
Robbie looked at me, furrowed his brow, and said, “I’m going to ask my dad if Jesus really did say that.”
After class was over, I was walking into sacrament meeting with my family, and I felt a tug on my dress. It was Robbie.
“Sister Wright, my dad says you’re right.”
The tenderness of this experience was that Robbie went from challenging the idea that Jesus could love everyone to a sweet trust of Christ’s unconditional love.

Recalling his childhood in the Church of England, Elder Cuthbert said, “I sang in the church choir in three services each Sunday. The choirmistress was a good teacher, and I learned to love the Psalms, which are songs of praise and thanksgiving to God. When I was eleven, the choirmistress went to Zululand, South Africa, as a missionary. Her example helped me become interested in missionary work at an early age.
“After I joined the Lord’s true Church, He called me as a district missionary, then as a stake missionary, and later as a mission president. Now, as a General Authority, I will always be a missionary. A Seventy is a special witness of Jesus Christ to all the world.
“I am sure that you Primary children know many missionaries, some perhaps in your own family. They are examples for you to follow; Jesus wants all of us to be missionaries. One of my favorite scriptures is in Matthew, when Jesus was instructing His apostles just before He ascended into heaven: ‘Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost’ (Matt. 28:19). He is saying the same to us today through His prophet, President Benson. Boys and girls, start preparing for your missions now—by study, by prayer, and by helping others.
“I have seen many examples of faith and courage among young missionaries in the Church. Ian Menzies, a missionary in Scotland, said, ‘I must finish my mission,’ even though he had a tumor on his brain. Through faith and determination and priesthood administration, he accomplished what others said was impossible. Peter Chaya, a missionary in Zimbabwe, Africa, fulfilled his mission on crutches. He had lost the use of both legs through polio when he was a child. Pip Lees served as a stake missionary in England. Her companion pushed her door to door in a wheelchair for two years.
“During December 1987, I had some Church assignments in Bolivia, a beautiful South American country where the Church is growing rapidly but where the people have very little. The Regional Representative, Elder Philip Kradolfer, accompanied me, and he brought a large suitcase full of toys. Just before Christmas each year, his children give up some of their toys to help the children living in the Altiplano, or high plateau region, of Bolivia. It was wonderful to see the children’s faces as they received a doll, a game, a book, or a purse. Jesus taught that it is better to give than to receive, and I am sure that you have felt the same happiness when you have been a secret helper.
“While serving in South America last year,” Elder Cuthbert recalled, “I met many people who had little to eat and hardly a roof over their heads. Many are hearing the gospel and are being baptized. The children are attending Primary and are preparing for missions, just like you.
“In your prayers, would you remember these boys and girls who have a very hard life? As you prayerfully express thanks for the blessings that you enjoy, fill yourself up with gratitude and let it overflow into service. As you help other children, you will not want so much for yourselves.”

Skeeter Lagree pulled himself from his bed like a reluctant butterfly from its cocoon. It isn’t fair! his thoughts told his reflection in his dresser mirror. I’m just a twelve-year-old boy.
When he pulled back the curtain at his window and gazed out, he decided it was more than just unfair. “I’m not going to collect fast offerings on a day like this, Bernard!” he said out loud to his pet goldfish in the little fishbowl on his dresser. “It’s snowing! Mom’s in St. George, taking care of Grandma. And Dad’s sick in bed, so he can’t drive me around the neighborhood.”
The boy watched a dog amble down the street, appearing almost suspended by the icy wind, then crawled back into bed. “It won’t hurt if I miss collecting fast offerings just this once, Bernard. The other deacons will tend to it. They probably have rides. I’d have to walk all the way around the block to the meetinghouse just to pick up a route!”
Bernard’s “gaze” began to bother Skeeter. He wondered if his conscience had eyes like that—big and round and unblinking. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that it isn’t polite to stare?” He rolled over and faced the wall.
What greeted him there was even worse! It was a picture of a family pulling their handcart across the plains in the dead of winter. The woman was straining at the crossbar. Her husband lay in the cart, too sick to walk, his hollow eyes gazing painfully at their child, about Skeeter’s age, crawling beside the cart. The pioneer boy was too weak and cold to stand. His bedraggled clothes were caked with ice, and his feet were bleeding.
The handcart pioneers were engaged in a noble cause, too, his conscience told him, like the other deacons who’ll be fulfilling their duty to the Lord this morning. But these pioneers, his father had read from a worn book during a recent family home evening, had traveled on foot more than 1300 miles! And all I have to do is walk around the block.
Suddenly he heard a tapping. He rolled over to discover a bare limb of a tree tapping and scraping against his window. A moment later, he was kneeling beside his bed, asking Heavenly Father for forgiveness.
Skeeter jumped up and quickly dressed in his Sunday clothes, slipped into his winter coat, told his dad where he was going, and started back down the hall toward the front door. He paused and poked his head into his own room. “Shouldn’t you be about your duties, Bernard?” he asked his pet. “And don’t pretend that you don’t know what they are!” he added at the fish’s seemingly blank look. “You’re a fish, aren’t you? So, do something … fishy. Besides staring! Remember who feeds you,” he warned with a chuckle. “Except today, of course—it’s fast Sunday!”
Skeeter’s father heard his chuckling. The next thing he heard was the front door opening and closing as his son went out into the cold, snowy morning on the Lord’s errand. He rested his head back on his pillow and smiled. “That’s my boy,” he said softly. “That’s my boy.”