Gospel Story Finder

“But, Pa, I’m bigger now! See?” Joshua said as he stood on his tiptoes.
“I do see how big you are,” Pa said. “Come over here to the measuring wall. We’ll measure again.”
Joshua ran over to the measuring wall and stood as tall as he could. Pa took a pencil and put a mark on the wall just above Joshua’s head. It was a little higher than the last one.
“Well, I’ll be!” Pa said. “You’ve grown one-eighth of an inch!”
“I knew it! Can I ride Dugan today?” Joshua asked as he jumped up and down.
“I think you just might be big enough to ride the horse,” Papa said.
Joshua was so excited! He went to the corrals with Pa and watched as Pa put a bridle and harness on Dugan.
“Why didn’t you put a saddle on her?” Joshua asked.
“Because today we have work to do with her,” Pa explained. “We are building a fence. You and Dugan will get to help.”
“Really? How?” Joshua asked.
“We will put a chain around the poles that are in that pile by the barn. Then we will hook them to the harness on Dugan and she will pull the poles where they need to go,” Pa said.
Joshua sat on the fence as Pa put a chain around the poles. He looked at Dugan. “She is a really big horse,” he thought. He began to feel nervous.
Pa finished chaining the last pole. “Ready, Joshua? Come over here and I’ll lift you up.”
Joshua climbed down the fence slowly and walked over to Pa with his head hung low.
“What’s the matter? Have you changed your mind?” Pa asked.
“Maybe I better wait until tomorrow,” Joshua mumbled. “I’ll be even bigger then.”
“I bet you won’t be scared anymore after you get on the horse. I won’t let you get hurt. I’ll walk beside you and lead Dugan to the place where we unload the poles,” Pa said.
“Really? You’ll be with me?” Joshua asked.
“You bet I will,” Pa said. He reached down and lifted Joshua onto Dugan’s back in one big swoosh.
“Wow! Look how high I am!” Joshua said. He grinned from ear to ear.
As he rode, Joshua looked at Pa. He realized that Heavenly Father would always be there to help him too. He would lift him up. He would walk beside him. And knowing that, Joshua could do anything—even ride a really big horse.

Wouldn’t you get a little nervous if your high school counselor suddenly and unexpectedly called you into the office?
You’d especially be nervous if you were Richard Aballay, a senior at a Catholic seminary in New York City. Richard had seen the LDS commercials on TV, had contacted the missionaries, and was baptized. He hadn’t yet mentioned it to anyone at the school, where boys are preparing to become Catholic priests.
“How are you doing in your subjects?” the counselor began politely on that fateful day in late October.
“Fine,” said Richard, cautiously.
Then the counselor jumped to his real concern. “Are you affiliated with another church?”
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
“The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
“Why?”
“I have come to know the Savior better in this church. I know this church is doing more for me. It is the church of God.”
As the counselor began to lecture, warning Richard that being a member of a different church was grounds for dismissal, Richard thought how easy it would be to say he’d made it all up. Then he could finish his senior year in peace.
“But I couldn’t do that,” Richard said later. “You can’t deny the truth when you have it.”
By the next day it was official: Richard had to leave.
The following week was torment, Richard said. But with much prayer, his family was able to find space for him in another good school.
“From that experience,” Richard says, “I have learned that the Lord will never abandon me.”
In fact, it gave Richard the chance to tell more people about the gospel, since his classmates wanted to know why he would leave school for his new beliefs.

We are grateful to our Heavenly Father for the blessings of attending self-reliance group meetings.
Before I attended the self-reliance group meetings, I was into a small-scale business and I could not separate my capital from the profit. I usually added up everything together, making it impossible to determine if there had been any profit. During the self-reliance group meetings, I was able to learn the principle of budgeting which has helped me to put my costs in order as I now know what to buy first and what to forgo, i.e., my needs, versus my wants, as well as the important principle of tithing.
The principles I learned in self-reliance have been helpful in my workplace in so many ways, such as helping me know how to manage my salary through effective budgeting as I try to spend wisely, organize myself by creating a balance in my life, as well as helping me to be spiritually and financially self-reliant.
Currently, I am gainfully employed through a referral I got from the office of the Welfare and Self-Reliance Services in Benin City.
I testify that the Church is true, and I know that self-reliance will bless us as we participate in any of the group meetings because it has really blessed my life.

Doug Goreas, member of the Royal Canadian Sea Cadets, recently completed a cruise aboard the HMCS (Her Majesty’s Canadian Ship) Mackenzie to Japan. Doug, 16, was selected along with 29 other cadets for this privilege.
Doug’s voyage first took him to Pearl Harbor and then on to Japan. After reaching the port of Kagoshima, Doug relates, “I would have to say that Kagoshima was one of the highlights of my trip. While on leave there, I happened to glance into a bookstore and saw two well-dressed, clean-shaven young men. They looked like Mormon missionaries. When they came out, I approached them, and they were just that. It was great to talk to them and find out about the Church in that area.
“They invited me to the youth group meeting the next night, and as I had leave I attended. I sat in on an English class and afterward played in a Ping-Pong tournament. Teenagers are the same wherever you travel. It was a wonderful experience.”
Doug’s next port of call was Kure, where he took a train trip to Hiroshima to visit the Hiroshima Peace Park, built as a reminder of the destructive potential of the atom bomb. After visiting the ports of Kobe and Yokuska, the HMCS Mackenzie cruised back to Canada.
A student at Kelowna Senior Secondary School, Doug is an assistant to the president of the priests quorum of the Kelowna Branch, in Kelowna, British Columbia, Canada. During the past four years he has won numerous awards, including the Kelowna Citizenship and Achievement awards.
Doug plays nine instruments and presently plays the tuba with the Kelowna Senior Secondary Concert Band. He attributes his interest in music to “the fine example and inspiration of the members of the Church.” Doug is looking forward to serving a mission and completing a university degree in music.

Once we went to a children’s play center. One of the activities was a very tall hill, which you had to climb up using a rope. I tried to do it many times, but I could only make it three-quarters of the way. Just before I could reach the top, I would fall and slide down to the bottom of the hill.
I felt like I would never be able to reach the top. Then an employee quickly climbed up the hill and gave me her hand from there. With her help, I easily got to the top.
At that moment I thought about Jesus. He does the same for us. When we do the best we can but still aren’t reaching our goal, He gives His helping hand to us. This experience was very spiritual for me, and I will remember it all my life.

In the southern Hungarian city of Pécs, the topic of the first Sunday School lesson after they received the Book of Mormon was Lehi’s dream in 1 Nephi 8 [1 Ne. 8], a story not included in the selections. “The members loved it,” says Elder Brian Blum. “They kept drawing it on chalkboards.”
In Pécs, the books were handed out in a special Christmas family home evening. Elder Blum particularly recalls the reaction of one member, Sister Szücs Krisztina, who had been baptized about three months earlier. “She didn’t get up. She was just sitting there,” he says. “And I was wondering why she wasn’t doing much with her copy of the Book of Mormon. Then I looked down and saw she was crying as she was reading several parts from the Book of Mormon.”

Long years ago when I was in the stake presidency in the St. Joseph Stake in Arizona, one Sabbath day I filled an assignment in the Eden Ward. The building was a small one, and most of the people were sitting close to us as we sat on the raised platform about a foot and a half above the floor of the building itself.
As the meeting proceeded, my eye was attracted to seven little boys on the front seat of the chapel. I was delighted with seven little boys in this ward conference. I made a mental note, then shifted my interest to other things. Soon my attention was focused on the seven little boys again.
It seemed strange to me that each of the seven little fellows raised his right leg and put it over the left knee, and then in a moment all would change at the same time and put the left leg over the right knee. I thought it was unusual, but I just ignored it.
In a moment or two, all in unison would brush their hair with their right hands, and then all seven little boys leaned lightly on their wrists and supported their faces by their hands, and then simultaneously they went back to the crossing of their legs again.
It all seemed so strange, and I wondered about it as I was trying to think of what I was going to say in the meeting. And then all at once it came to me like a bolt of lightning. These boys were mimicking me!
That day I learned the lesson of my life—that we who are in positions of authority must be careful indeed, because others watch us and find in us their examples.

When I was in grade four, the day of our exam came. I was nervous that I might not pass the exam. While waiting for the school bus, I reviewed what I had studied the night before.
After I had reviewed, I gathered with my family to read a passage from a scripture mastery card. The verse was about prayer and the power of priesthood blessings. While I was listening, I was prompted to ask my father to bless me so I could pass the exam. As he blessed me, I calmed down and had peace of mind.
At school, I saw my classmates studying for the exam. The bell rang, and our teacher gave us the test. Before I started it, I went to a room, knelt down, and prayed. I went back to my classroom confident I could pass the exam. When I had finished the exam and was walking out of the classroom to go home, a classmate asked me, “Jarrel, do you think you’ll pass the exam?”
I said, “Let’s just find out tomorrow when we check the papers.”
When I got home, my mother asked me, “How was the exam?”
I said, “It went fine. I answered all the questions.”
The next day, I saw my scores—I passed the exam. I was very happy and thankful. I went home, knelt down, and thanked Heavenly Father for the wisdom and guidance He had given me during the exam. I then thanked my mother for helping me in my studies and my father for giving me a blessing.
I am thankful for priesthood blessings because they have helped me and so many members of the Church.

Elder Stout and I decided to have a prayer before going out again that Christmas Eve. We had arrived home from our last appointment, and I wasn’t exactly eager to step into the freezing-cold Italian air again. But my companion thought we still had time for the Christmas project we had been planning.
“Please guide us to those with no special place to go for Christmas,” we asked. “Please help us to cheer those who are experiencing sadness and loneliness during the holiday.”
I grudgingly rebuttoned the buttons I had so eagerly unbuttoned minutes before as Elder stout gathered up the Christmas gifts left over from what we had given our investigators—five Christmas candles decorated with paper holly and aluminum-foil bases. We had made them ourselves during the weeks before while practicing “Venite Fedeli” ( “Oh, Come, All Ye Faithful”) to sing to those we found wandering around with no place to go on Christmas Eve.
We walked into the cold, deserted streets of Bolzano, and I apprehensively looked for someone to cheer up. I had been in Italy for only twenty days or so and, although I was enthusiastic about missionary work, I still found it hard to approach strangers and talk to them in a language I barely knew about things they didn’t seem interested in.
A man started walking in our direction, avoiding looking at us. We managed to stop and talk with him, lit and gave him one of our decorated candles, and sang to him.
As we sang, the faraway look in his eyes faded away. Not only a smile, but genuine warmth came to his face. I felt good. The man walked away with new vitality, and my attitude about our plans for the evening changed. It was going to be a good evening after all.
Then, walking toward the center of the city, we met a gray-haired old man. He was wearing a thick jacket and limping along with the help of a crutch under his left arm. Elder Stout recognized him as someone he had talked to before my arrival in Italy. We presented him a candle and sang our carol.
He was thrilled. “Won’t you come with me?” he asked in Italian marked by a strong German accent. “I’m on my way to church.” We agreed and proceeded into town slowly, keeping in step with his pace. As we walked, Elder Stout and the man continued talking.
As they conversed, I studied our companion and realized that, in spite of the incredibly low temperature, the hand supporting his body on the crutch was gloveless. “Please take this glove for your left hand,” I somehow forced out.
“No, no,” he replied. “Many years ago I spent the winter in Russia as a soldier with less than I’m wearing now. This is nothing compared to then.”
We neared the church and noticed a large group of people waiting outside. Our friend yelled out, “Hey, these Americans want to sing for you and give you a present!” This wasn’t exactly what we had planned to do, but we sang anyway and gave out one of the three remaining candles. Our friend stood off to the side and smiled.
The night was getting colder and colder, so when we finished, Elder Stout and I asked him to take a glove from one of us to protect his bare hand. Once again he explained that he had undergone winter in Russia many years ago and had suffered much worse.
Then a car stopped near the church, and a well-dressed woman and her young son stepped out. The boy was yelling, upset at the necessity of going to church on the night before his favorite day of the year. While the mother attempted to calm him down, our friend motioned us to them. As we followed his labored steps, he called out, “Hey, these American boys want to sing for you and give you a present!”
We knelt down eye-to-eye with the boy and made our presentation. As the boy, wide-eyed and silent, listened intently to our well-rehearsed carol, I could see our friend smiling and enjoying every minute. When we stood up to wish the mother a merry Christmas, we saw that she had been crying as we sang. She smiled at us, and, before we could say anything, our friend wished them a merry Christmas in a way that only Santa Claus could rival.
We echoed his wishes and turned back to tell our friend that we still had one more candle and planned to continue on until we found someone to give it to.
He looked at the ground and then turned back to us: “Well, it’s too crowded here anyway. Maybe I’ll go on with you to a smaller church.”
Happy to hear that we would still enjoy his refreshing company, we left to find another church. Our limping friend guided us through the quiet streets only to find the other chapel closed. As it got colder and colder, I kept remembering the hand of our friend, trying to sense what it would be like for my bare hand to remain frozen in one position, holding on to a crutch. We both offered our gloves, and again he refused.
As we walked away from the church, we saw two teenage girls walking dejectedly down the street. Within seconds, our friend was yelling, “Hey, these American boys want to sing for you and give you a present!” Remembering that we only had one candle left, not two, I became uneasy. But we lit the candle and gave it to one of them.
“What about the other girl?” our friend asked. After Elder Stout explained that we had just given away the last candle, our friend cried “Wait!” and started fumbling through his pockets. He finally found the candle we had given him and handed it to the other girl. Elder Stout and I sang our carol while our friend stood by smiling. The girls began smiling, too.
When they walked away, Elder Stout said, “Well, that’s the last of our candles. I guess it’s time to go home.” Our friend replied that he would accompany us as far as the other church. When we arrived, we wished one another a merry Christmas and went our separate ways.
Back in our apartment, Elder Stout and I knelt in prayer. We thanked the Lord for making it possible to touch a few hearts and shine a little light on saddened countenances. We also thanked him for the lesson that angels don’t always wear white flowing robes but come in all different sizes, colors, and nationalities. Some walk with crutches.

Elsa Jacobsen had a problem. After years of working hard in school and excelling in the classroom, on the student council, and in the ballet studio, she had created a situation for herself that she didn’t quite know how to handle. Several top universities, including Stanford University located near Palo Alto, California, were vying to have Elsa as a student. All were great schools, some were offering attractive scholarship packages, and any of them would provide lots of great learning opportunities.
“I finally narrowed it down,” says 18-year-old Elsa, “and after a lot of fasting and prayer I received a peaceful confirmation about coming to Stanford. From the time I arrived here, I knew why. I love it here.”
Everyone should be so lucky to have problems like that, right? But whether you’re an ace student or you’re praying that the local junior college will look past your grade point average and concentrate on your potential, the decisions you make about your education will affect the rest of your life.
Once you arrive there will be even more decisions to make: What will you major in? Whom will you be friends with? Whom will you date? It’s a huge change, and it can be a little overwhelming. But Elsa and her Stanford classmates have come up with several great ideas for establishing a great after-high-school life that will work whether you’re headed for the Ivy League or Hometown U. Here are some of their stories:
Dustin Matsumori, a Stanford freshman from Murray, Utah, faced a dilemma similar to Elsa’s. He knew he was going to go to college, but where? And why? So Dustin started doing what any good student would do—his homework. He considered cost, class sizes, majors offered, and the student population at each school on his list.
“I came to visit Stanford with my parents and was really impressed with the beautiful campus and the great weather,” says Dustin. “Then the tour guide started giving us the stats about Supreme Court justices and Nobel laureates and other impressive people who have graduated from Stanford.”
Dustin was excited by the prospect of being able to go to a school that had such an awesome reputation. But he wasn’t ready to sign on the dotted line just yet. Something was still missing.
“When I was getting information about Stanford, I found out that the Latter-day Saint Student Association [LDSSA] hosted a seminar each Friday at lunchtime. When I walked into that room with the other LDS students, I felt right at home. It was then that I knew I could go away from home and have wonderful educational experiences and still strengthen my testimony.”
Andy Walburger is a returned missionary who plays on the Stanford water polo team. Being able to play for the team was a big factor in his decision to go to Stanford, but it wasn’t the only one.
“I love the LDS community here at Stanford,” he says. “I think relationships are a very important part of a college education. In fact, a big part of what you learn at college happens outside the classroom, so you want to make sure that it will be a good atmosphere. Having LDS friends here has made all the difference for me. After all, staying at home by yourself every Friday night isn’t a lot of fun.”
Holly Goodliffe, a freshman from Salt Lake City, says that although she was thrilled to be at college, there was some uncertainty as she faced her first days in a world where her parents weren’t nearby.
“I think that being away from home for the first time has really helped me appreciate the gospel more than ever before,” says Holly. “I feel like I have a solid foundation. Also, I know I can rely on my other LDS friends. We sort of look out for each other. If someone’s not at church, we let them know we missed them.”
Mark Madsen led the Stanford basketball team to the NCAA Final Four last year. He is a tenacious and aggressive player, and it would be easy to assume that basketball is the only thing that matters to such an impressive athlete. But Mark, who served a mission in Spain, says that it’s church, not sports, that gives him the anchor he needs in his life.
“Going to church at the student ward is a huge relief for me, especially after a road trip with the team,” says Mark. “After a few days in a strange city playing against tough guys, it’s nice to come and sing the opening hymn and be with my ward family. I love Sundays.”
Even though LDSSA is just one of several religious, academic, and professional groups on campus, the LDS students say they think it is one of Stanford’s most noticed groups. Their numbers may be small—less than 100 of the 7,000 undergraduate students are LDS—but their impact is felt in almost every dorm, classroom, and organization. These guys are involved with a capital “I.”
In addition to the athletic pursuits of Mark and Andy and their LDS teammates, there are LDS athletes in gymnastics, synchronized swimming, and crew just to name a few. Emily Andrus, an LDS student from Salt Lake City, just finished a year in office as student body president. This year another LDS student, Maren Norton, took her place. One LDS student leads daily campus tours. Several are in musical, dance, and performing groups. And at nearly every rally, game, performance, or debate, there is a small but vocal cheering section of LDS students.
“I’m always running in several different directions at once,” says Emily. “But my LDS friends watch out for me. I’m well taken care of.”
That involvement and the support network that comes along with it make it easy for all the LDS students to let their gospel light shine. In every group and on every team, people notice that the Mormon kids seem to have their own fan club, which leads to questions about the gospel. Lisa Arrington, a recent convert to the Church, became interested in the gospel because she was friends with Mark. She wanted to know more about the friends that seemed to always surround him and why they always seemed so happy. Now Mark isn’t just her friend; he’s also her home teacher.
But it isn’t just high-profile activities that bring missionary opportunities. Dustin’s friends noticed he didn’t drink. They asked questions, and soon Dustin was sharing the Book of Mormon and For the Strength of Youth pamphlets with the guys on his floor. Holly’s roommate, a Christian, noticed that Holly read her scriptures daily just as she did. She wanted to know more about Holly’s beliefs, and now they occasionally study the Bible together.
Meghann Evershed, a sophomore, jogs a few times a week with her friend Matt Blythe. While they jog, they often talk about the gospel.
“I really enjoy discussing religion with Meghann because she’s very clear,” says Matt. “She seems to have all the answers. It’s cool to understand her beliefs.”
Four years seems like a long time, but time flies when you’re having fun, and these students are definitely doing that. It’s the kind of fun that comes from working hard, playing hard, and loving and living the gospel. It’s the kind of fun that anyone, no matter where they go to school, can have if they want to.
So maybe you didn’t get a perfect score on the SAT, and the thought of college algebra makes you break out into a cold sweat. Just remember that whether you’re trying to decide between several schools or just hoping that one will take pity and let you in, every problem has a solution. Especially when you have the gospel to guide you and good LDS friends to help you find your way.
It’s a simple concept—one that will make you look very smart no matter where you go to school.
Here are some things that make the Stanford LDSSA great. Keep them in mind when you’re choosing a college—your bishop can tell you if there’s an institute program at the school you choose. Or if you choose a school without an LDSSA, maybe you could team up with other LDS students or young adults in the area and help implement some of the following ideas when you arrive:
All incoming freshmen receive a welcome letter and a packet of information about where the student ward meets, where institute classes are held, and how to get involved.
Stanford students stay connected via e-mail. If there’s an activity or an event, it’s easy to let everyone know.
Helping the community is a great way to build friendships. Stanford students have developed a tutoring program that allows them to help struggling elementary, junior high, and high school students succeed.
Stanford students use the buddy system. Each incoming freshman is assigned a “big brother” or “big sister,” an upperclassman who can show them the ropes.
Institute classes not only provide a spiritual dimension to education; it’s also a great break from other studies and a good way to see friends. Stanford students make every effort to schedule their other classes so they can attend.

Skaidr?te married in 1969 but didn’t have children until her only child, a son, was born in 1981. By the time the boy was eight, Skaidr?te once again felt the need for religion in her life. Her mother-in-law often said, “You don’t laugh about God. Even if you don’t believe, you can respect.”
Skaidr?te still carried emotional scars inflicted by her mother’s alcoholism. She hated being around others at weddings and celebrations where they drank alcohol. Impressed by a relative of her mother-in-law who never drank, Skaidr?te started attending his church. “I was in church,” she says, “but I wasn’t getting to know God.” For 10 more years she floundered, but her desire to find her Heavenly Father persisted, even as her own husband and her son both slipped into alcoholism. She divorced and her husband and son moved far away. Again, dark thoughts arose. Was suicide an answer?
In 1999, Skaidr?te was looking for a church. She saw a building with a sign that said The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was a weekday, but she opened the door and went inside.
“There was a sister missionary. When I walked in, she was smiling—a very open smile. I thought there was somebody behind me. Then I realized that smile was for me, and I smiled back. I felt like I was meeting a best friend, long not seen.
“She was the one who introduced me to the Church. I had never met anyone like the missionaries. I felt like they were angels, literally come from heaven to earth.
“Basically from that day, everything changed in my life.”
Skaidr?te stopped going to her previous church, even though people there warned her she would find bad things in this new Church. “I told them if there was something bad, I would stop going,” Skaidr?te says, “But there was nothing but good to find.” That was 17 years ago.
Today, Skaidr?te, age 71, is so happy and full of life that it’s hard to believe that hasn’t always been the case.
“When I first saw that sister missionary, when I found the Church for the first time, since that day all the thoughts of suicide were gone. There were no thoughts of life being dark. In spite of everything, I am positive. Life is beautiful to me.”

But Bishop Carvalho did not come from a close family, and joining the Church helped him learn how to be a better parent and spouse. “I didn’t understand my responsibilities as a father. Sometimes, when I came home from work, all I could think of was how tired I was,” he explains. “The gospel was like a light that showed me the way. I began to understand my purpose as a man and as a father.”
Now, Bishop Carvalho says, he could not handle his many work and Church responsibilities without the support of his wife and two children. He says it is a great blessing to have been called as a sealer in the Swiss Temple, because temple work is so important to him. He functions in the calling when he travels to Switzerland with Portuguese temple excursion groups.

High wind warnings for northern Utah were making a lot of people nervous, but not Matt Hansen, 17, and his dad Barry. To them, it sounded like perfect weather. They shared a love of windsurfing, and the news that high winds were coming was like music to their ears.
“When a windsurfer hears that the wind is going to be blowing hard, that’s when you drop everything and go. In Utah, the wind rarely blows over 40 miles per hour. So when we heard the wind would be blowing, we packed up and went.”
Barry called his brother Drew, and they made plans to go to Utah Lake. Barry also took his two daughters, Nicole and Natalie, because they liked to play on the beach.
When they arrived at the lake, it was disappointing. “We got there and the water was almost glassy,” said Matt. “I wasn’t even going to rig up my sail or put on my wetsuit.”
Barry decided to go out because he is not quite as good a windsurfer as his son and his brother. He has fun with the winds blowing between 10 and 15 mph. “It finally started blowing hard enough for Matt. He’s quite a bit better than I am, so he likes to be out in 20 to 40 mile-per-hour winds. I was tired, so I went in and was lifting my board up onto the beach. By then Drew and Matt were about three-quarters of a mile out. In a matter of two or three minutes, the wind shifted, going from 20 mph to what I estimate was about 60 mph. I knew they were in trouble. There was no way they could sail in that kind of wind. The waves went from three-foot swells to so high I couldn’t see over the tops. It was blowing hard and kept building and building. I could occasionally see my brother, but I couldn’t see Matt.”
In the water, Matt felt the wind shift. When the high winds hit, he saw his uncle heading in. “I was in the water waiting for a gust so I could water start. That’s where your sail pulls you up. Then the wind started picking up. I tried to hold on, but it was too strong. I thought it was a microburst, and I could wait a minute for it to pass. Usually the wind won’t blow that hard that long. I looked at the clouds coming from the mountains. I knew it wasn’t a microburst, and it wasn’t going to stop.”
Matt was right. The wind was not going to stop for several hours. In fact, the wind wreaked havoc, blowing down dozens of trees, toppling trucks, shearing power poles, and ripping apart roofs throughout northern Utah. The wind would be clocked as high as 86 mph in places, hurricane velocity.
On the lake, Matt was just a speck on the water. “Quick as I could, I tried to save my boom; that’s what you hold onto on your sail. I got it off and detached my sail from my board and let my sail take off. I went to grab my boom to put it on top of my board to swim it in. The wind caught my board, and it took off. I dropped my boom and went after my board. It’s my best flotation device besides my life jacket. I looked back and my boom and sail were gone, so I started swimming with one hand on my board. I would get glimpses of the shore, but it was blowing so hard that if I tried to look at the shore, the spray off the waves would hit me in the eyes and face.
“I had been swimming for half an hour, and I felt like I wasn’t making any progress at all. I thought to myself, Any decisions I have to make, I have to make them right now before hypothermia kicks in. After a while I won’t be able to make the decisions very well or very wisely. I told myself everything I was going to do, over and over.”
The situation was similar to what Matt had been taught in church. Make your decisions before the moment of crisis. Make your decisions when you can think clearly. Then when faced with the critical moment, the right decision to carry you through will already be made.
“After an hour of swimming, I felt I was a little closer to shore. It never crossed my mind to stop. I had a life jacket and board. I was not stopping. Wherever I ended up, it was not going to be in the water. I was starting to get cold. I knew hypothermia was coming. It was getting harder to think. I had to concentrate and keep swimming. Then I felt ground underneath me. I thanked the Lord and thought, Now all I have to do is walk.”
In the meantime, Drew had gone to a marina to get a boat, but the high waves swamped the boat when they attempted a rescue. They had to turn back. The sheriff’s office could not send a helicopter up because of the high winds. At home, Matt’s mother, Barbara, was trying desperately to stay calm: “I kept saying, ‘Matt, hang onto the board. Hang onto the board. Keep your strength.’” Then she felt the comfort of the Spirit.
There was nothing to do but wait. Barry drove down the beach and stared at the most horrifying sight he had seen, waves crashing and no trace of Matt. “That’s when I felt absolute despair,” said Barry. “I knew Matt was in very good condition. I knew he knew the rules of safety. But it was getting dark. I knew he couldn’t last too much longer in the cold water. I pleaded with the Lord to temper the elements and bring my son back.”
Just when darkness was about to set in, Barry saw a figure walking toward him. It was Matt. He ran to his son, hugging him. Matt, his face purple with cold, said, “Dad, I love you.” Barry was crying on his son’s shoulder.
That evening, after Matt was reunited with his sisters and mother, the Hansens knelt in family prayer. Matt’s father is his bishop in the Parkview Ward, South Jordan Utah Stake, and rarely had the prayers of thanksgiving been so sincere and given with so much joy by the Hansens and other ward members as those that night.
The Hansens still enjoy windsurfing, but needless to say they are very cautious about weather conditions, particularly on Utah Lake. And Matt knows what it means to make decisions ahead of time, then to keep his eye on his goal and never ever stop until he reaches it.

I mention one more example of the incorrect way to accomplish home teaching. President Marion G. Romney, who was a counselor in the First Presidency some years ago, used to tell about his home teacher who once went to the Romney home on a cold winter night. He kept his hat in his hand and shifted nervously when invited to sit down and give his message. As he remained standing, he said, “Well, I’ll tell you, Brother Romney, it’s cold outside, and I left my car engine running so it wouldn’t stop. I just came by so I could tell the bishop I had made my visits.”6
President Ezra Taft Benson, after relating President Romney’s experience in a meeting of priesthood holders, then said, “We can do better than that, brethren—much better!”7 I agree.

“I’ve swum twenty laps already, and I just can’t go another one.” Susan shouted to her swimming coach, who was standing near the edge of the pool.
“Yes, you can!” Coach Andersen encouraged confidently. “You’re good for at least four more laps.”
Susan looked up at the tall thin man and wondered why he expected so much of her.
“Four more!” the coach shouted. “And watch that kick. Your rhythm is off.”
Susan pushed off from the bank feeling discouraged and wanting to cry. Carefully she cupped her hands and pulled at the water.
“One, two, three, four, five, six,” she counted over and over to herself as she kicked and then rhythmically fit her windmill-like arms into the pattern. Slowly but smoothly she glided over the water. Her arms and legs ached and her lungs gasped for air as her head turned in and out of the water.
Susan touched the edge and then sprung backward and began the backstroke. Once more she glided gracefully over the water.
As she neared the edge, she wished she could stop, but even in the water she could hear Coach Andersen’s voice calling from the deck, “Two more laps. You’re looking good, but don’t get lazy with those arms. Pull, pull!”
Susan turned on her stomach again and did one more lap freestyle and then tried another lap on her back. Her muscles were so tired she wondered how she could make it.
“The last lap! This is the last lap!” she kept telling herself as she moved through the water. She felt a smile cross her lips as she finished.
“That was pretty good,” Coach Andersen said without smiling. “We’ll have a short workout tomorrow, and then you’ll be ready for the swimming meet on Saturday. Remember what you can eat and what you can’t, and get to bed early tonight and tomorrow night.”
Slowly Susan crawled out of the pool. For a while she sat on the edge dangling her feet in the water and breathing fast to catch her breath.
Is all this worth it? she wondered. Or am I going to all this trouble and work for nothing?
Then she looked down at the pool and her thoughts changed. “This time I’m going to win!” she whispered. “Every time I practice and every time I lose, I learn something. I can’t give up now. I’m going to win!”
She grabbed her towel and sweatshirt and went in the dressing room to change her clothes.
Within fifteen minutes she was on the bus going home. By now her tired muscles were beginning to feel better.
At the first stop a girl about her age got on the bus. Susan watched as the girl walked down the aisle and then stopped next to her seat.
“Hi,” the girl said. “May I sit here?”
“Sure,” Susan replied.
“My name is Rachel Ann Moyle,” the girl said as she sat down.
“I’m Susan Thomas,” Susan replied.
“I’m going to visit my grandmother,” Rachel Ann said. Then she opened a small sack and pulled out two chocolate bars. “Would you like some candy?” she asked.
Susan looked longingly at the candy. She loved chocolate, but the coach’s rules kept ringing in her ears, “Don’t eat empty calories. Eat high protein foods.”
She looked once more at the candy bar and her mouth began to water. “I’d better not,” Susan finally said reluctantly, “but thanks anyway.”
“Come on,” Rachel Ann urged. “I’ll feel silly eating if you don’t.”
Susan looked once more at the candy. Then she remembered her tired muscles and all the work she had done so she could win.
“No, thank you,” she said very firmly. “I really wouldn’t care for any. But you go ahead. I don’t mind.”
During the next two days Susan’s thoughts alternated between discouragement and excitement. But as she climbed onto the starting block Saturday afternoon, she felt only a determination to win.
The starter’s voice called out, “Judges ready?”
Eight hands at the ends of the pool signaled readiness, and the voice instructed, “Swimmers, take your mark.”
Susan stepped up and curled her toes around the edge of the starting block.
“Get set,” the starter shouted.
Susan poised herself to make the starting dive.
Bang! The gun rang out and the eight swimmers flew off the blocks.
One girl led the way, with Susan a little behind her and a girl in the next lane just a little farther back.
Susan pulled and kicked down the first lap. As she made the turn, the girl in the next lane caught up with her so Susan let go with all her strength. Halfway down the lap she started gaining on the leader. The two girls swam neck and neck.
When Susan could tell she was starting to fall behind, she pushed herself even more. She felt as if she would burst, but the extra push was just enough. She finished two-tenths of a second before the other girl!
Coach Andersen ran over to help Susan out of the pool. His face was one big smile.
“Congratulations!” he said. “I knew you had what it takes.”
Susan gasped for breath. Her muscles ached, but she had never felt so good.
“Thanks, coach,” she whispered between breaths. “I owe it all to you.”
“No, you don’t,” he said. “You’re the only one who can win. I’ve helped a little, but you’re the swimmer!”
While Susan was getting dressed, she thought about what Coach Andersen had said. Lots of people are willing to help me, but it’s up to me to help myself too, she decided with a smile.

Garret W., 18, North Carolina, USA
When I was set apart to serve in the California San Bernardino Mission as a full-time missionary, my family was right there with me. This picture is of me hugging one of my brothers after I got set apart. It’s been a journey to get to this point, but I’m so grateful for the changes I’ve seen in myself and in my family.
My second-to-last year of high school, I got in a serious car crash. Before that I just wasn’t doing the things I should. But after the wreck, my viewpoint really shifted. My life could’ve been taken right then and there, and I did not want it to end like that. My bishop helped get me on the right path: reading the Book of Mormon daily and preparing to serve a mission.
Running track is my sport, my passion. After the wreck, I was out for the season, and I wondered what I even had left. But I turned to the Lord, and as I did, I had a phenomenal season the next year. There were still struggles, but what changed is instead of doing it for myself, I did it for the Lord.
Just seeing how many blessings can come from the fulness of the gospel was what changed me. Getting all of that happiness and joy, I want to spread it around the world. I’m longing for people to have the joy that I have every day because of the gospel. And that’s why I’m serving a mission: to help “bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39).

After my wife, Jean, and I were baptized on 27 October 1957, we did not start paying tithing right away as we should have. I thought we had too many debts and too little money. I should have known that we could not afford not to pay it.
When a year passed, we were expecting our third child. We had just purchased a new house and also had several more debts. About this time, my wife said, “We need to pay our tithing.” I did not know how we could because we had no money left after our expenses, but I said, “We will do it.” And we did.
We had already moved into our new house, but the loan had not yet closed because the street and the driveway were not finished. It soon began to rain and rain and rain some more. As a result, the work on the street and driveway was delayed. The loan did not close, so we had no house payments.
By the time the work was finally completed, the mortgage company had lost the loan papers and seemed in no hurry to find them. When the papers were finally found, we had lived in our house for six or seven months without making a single payment. We were able to get ahead on some of our other payments during this time.
Things have not always been financially easy for us, but we have never stopped paying our tithing. We call this experience a blessing from heaven.
Henry Hardnock, Midland Second Ward, Odessa Texas Stake

“I wanted to be Mary, Mommy,” Elizabeth said. “But Julie gets to be Mary, and I’m only the star.”
Mom smiled down at Elizabeth as they walked to the car in the church parking lot. “Well, dear, Julie is six, and you are only four.”
The edges of Elizabeth’s mouth pulled down into a frown. “But Julie gets to wear a pretty blue blanket on her head and hold a real-live baby.”
“Mary was a very brave and good woman,” Mom said. “I can see why you would want to be her. But I think you have the perfect part for you!”
“The star?”
“Yes. You see, whenever anything happens, you are the first to tell everyone. Just yesterday you ran in and told me that Mr. Allen had fallen on his steps. And because you were such a good helper by telling me, I was able to go over and help him into his house.”
Elizabeth grinned. She felt happy when Mom was extra-pleased with her. “But how is that like the Christmas star?”
“Well, many of the people in Bethlehem did not know that Jesus Christ had been born. The beautiful star sparkling in the sky told the whole world that the Savior had been born.”
“And the Wise Men saw it too!”
“That’s right. And even the people in the Book of Mormon who lived far away saw the star.”
“Wow! The whole world saw the star shining!”
Mom smiled at Elizabeth’s glowing face. “See, you do have an important part next Sunday. What greater message is there than the message of the Savior’s birth?”
Elizabeth sat quietly in the car, thinking for a while. Then she said, “Mommy, I’m going to practice smiling so big that everyone will see that I’m the Christmas star and know I’m happy because Jesus Christ was born.”

I have a dear friend with whom I went fishing. He seemed uneasy during the trip and shortly confided to me that he had just returned from a visit with his son-in-law in another state. During this visit he had a strong feeling that he should give his son-in-law a father’s blessing but felt somewhat constrained because he was not his father.
As we discussed his uneasy feelings, it was decided that he should phone his son-in-law immediately upon our return from the fishing trip. During the phone call my friend’s son-in-law, with considerable emotion and tears, confided the great need and desire he had felt for a father’s blessing. He had earnestly prayed that his father-in-law, to whom he felt very close, would know of his desires and give him such a blessing.
When we pray to our Father in Heaven for help, he often answers us by inspiring one of his other children here on earth to provide that help. Generally speaking, the Lord does not speak with a clap of thunder but through the whisperings of a still, small voice as he inspires one of his children to help another in need.

Babe Ruth is revered in the nation’s heart as the home-run king. He was a winner, a champion in every sense of the word. But did you know that while he hit 714 homeruns, he struck out 1,330 times? He struck out almost twice as many times as he hit for the circuit.
The story is told that in the summer of 1927 at Shibe Park in Philadelphia, 35,000 baseball fans were all very busy booing one man. It was Babe Ruth. He had just struck out on three pitched balls for the second successive time. Two runners were left stranded on base.
He turned from the plate and headed for the dugout amidst the sounds of wild and abusive jeers. And before he sat down, he tipped his hat to the booing crowd with an unruffled smile.
His turn came up again in the eighth inning. This time the situation was critical. The Athletics were crowding out the Yankees, 3 to 1. The bases were loaded, and there were two out. He could win or lose the game for the Yankees, and he was going up to bat as a personal loser for the day. He selected his favorite bat and then stood at home plate facing one of baseball’s toughest pitchers. Now it all depended on him, the man who had just struck out twice, the man who had earned the insults of the crowd. The excitement was tremendous. All eyes were upon him.
The pitcher flung the first ball across the base. With all his power, Babe swung and missed. The next pitch was good, too, and Ruth swung so hard he fell over, raising a cloud of dust. It didn’t look good for him. But the third time, Ruth swung again, and this time he connected, connected with a loud explosion that sent the ball hurtling out of the park and beyond the houses across the street to make one of the longest hits in baseball history. (See Earl Nightingale, “Worth Remembering,” Our Changing World, No. 1180.)
Babe Ruth had staying power. He stayed in there when all looked lost. He didn’t become overwhelmed with his losses. He didn’t measure and remeasure again his failures. He didn’t declare himself a loser and curl up in the dugout and die. The greatest slugger kept trying, putting his heart on the line.