Gospel Story Finder

My teachers were heaven-sent. May I mention but a few: our former stake president, Harold B. Lee; President Marion G. Romney; and President J. Reuben Clark.
Brother Romney was a frequent visitor to our stake and region. One evening he taught us the principle of faith by retelling the inspiring account of Elijah and the widow at Zarephath (see 1 Kgs. 17:8–16). He liken her circumstances to those of some widows in our area. As he taught welfare precepts from the handbook and responded to questions, one brother asked him, “Brother Romney, why do you seem to know whatever’s in that handbook?” to which Brother Romney, with that twinkle in his eye and smile upon his lips, responded, “I wrote it!”

Illustration by Jim Madsen
At the beginning of my mission, I served in a small city in South Korea. One rainy day we had not had a lot of success but wanted to keep working until it was time to go home. My companion and I decided that we would knock on a few more doors.
At one door a woman answered, and my companion started talking to her. As a new missionary, I had a hard time understanding, but after a few minutes she began speaking to us in English. We found out that she was from Chicago, Illinois, USA, and had moved here with her family. Her husband was a preacher for a church that did not have friendly feelings toward our beliefs.
The woman was nice but eager to disprove the Book of Mormon and convince us that our church was incorrect. I stood there with my companion as he tried to answer her difficult questions. My companion tried to testify to her that the Book of Mormon is true and that it could help her, but she insisted on believing that he was incorrect.
After about 30 minutes of discussion at the door, she asked my companion, “Where will we go after this life?” I could tell she was eager to refute my companion’s teachings, as she had before. My companion testified of the plan of salvation and that we can live with our families forever in the celestial kingdom. Before he could continue, she stopped him and asked him to repeat what he had just said about families being together. He again replied with the same response. I felt the Spirit so strongly, and I could see in her eyes that something had touched her deeply too. After that short but powerful testimony, she stopped arguing with us, took a Book of Mormon, and asked us to come back to talk with her and her husband about the Book of Mormon.
I remember walking home with my companion that evening, amazed by the effect of my companion’s testimony. I understood then that a testimony accompanied by the Spirit is the most powerful teaching tool we have. I’ll never forget my companion and his testimony that night. After that experience I decided that, even with my limited ability to speak Korean, I would try to bear my testimony no matter what. As I did, I began to feel the Spirit more and more. I learned that the best communication happens when you teach by the Spirit.

Like enthusiasts of any sport or hobby, amateur radio operators love to have contests to sharpen their skills. And Mike has done well in contests, too. The contests involve contacting as many stations as possible during a certain amount of time. “During the longer contests, I might contact as many as 5,000 operators,” Mike says. “The real reason for contests is to improve your skill as an operator, and it does take a lot of skill.” Contests range from 4 hours on one day to 96 hours spread over two weekends, though most contests are for either 48 straight hours or for 36 hours during a 48-hour period. “It gets tiring, but I keep going. That’s part of the excitement.”
There are domestic contests (within the U.S.) and international contests. “I’ve never won a world contest before,” Mike says, “but I’ve placed in the top 50.” Mike has made special arrangements not to compete on Sundays and is also lobbying to have Sunday contests eliminated. “I think it is good for my radio friends who are not members of the Church to know that I consider my standards more important than winning a worldwide contest,” Mike says.

When I was 14 years old, I played on a competitive club volleyball team. On one particular weekend the team traveled to a tournament in Denver, Colorado. This tournament was the first time I had ever gone on a trip without my parents. I was nervous and did not really want to go. My mom suggested that I ask my dad for a father’s blessing the night before I left, and my dad gave me a blessing of peace.
My team drove to Denver on Friday, and then on Saturday morning the tournament began. My team played really well and had a great position going into the championship matches the next day. On Saturday night I reminded my coaches that I did not play volleyball on Sundays. Due to the importance of the Sunday championships, my coaches were not happy being reminded of my decision.
Later that night, my coaches and the director of the club called me to a meeting and said that if I did not play on Sunday, I would be eliminated from the team. The director of the club told me that if I chose not to play volleyball on Sundays, I would never play college volleyball because the college scouts only watched the Sunday championships. I was sad and felt completely alone in my decision. I had been taught all of my life to keep the Sabbath day holy, and living this commandment had always been simple until then. I loved volleyball and had dreams of playing in college. This was a lot for me to handle, but I told them, “No, I will not play.”
After the meeting, I went to my room and cried. I decided that in order to stand strong in my beliefs I needed to understand why keeping the Sabbath day holy was so important. I looked in the Bible Dictionary under “Sabbath” and found my answer. It read, “The Sabbath was a holy day … even from the earliest times. … The Sabbath is an eternal principle” (p. 765). After reading this, I knew I would have the strength not to play on Sunday. The Lord rested on the seventh day, and I would rest as well and worship Him.
Nonetheless, it was a difficult Sunday. My team did not play well, and I was blamed for their poor performance. My teammates and coaches were not friendly; many did not talk to me, and some taunted me. When I arrived home, my parents gave me big hugs and said that they were proud of me. The next week at practice I was asked to leave the team.
Over the next four years, I continued to play volleyball for the same club but never on the competitive traveling team. After I had decided on a college to attend, I received a phone call from the director of the club I had played for. She was the new head volleyball coach for the college I was going to attend. She was calling to ask me to play volleyball for her. This was the same woman who four years earlier had told me that if I did not play volleyball on Sundays, I would never play college volleyball. Now she was giving me that opportunity.
The Lord works in mysterious ways. I know that I was truly blessed by making the decision not to play on Sunday. I also know that the Lord will always bless us for keeping the commandments—maybe not in the ways we think, but we will be blessed.

As time went on, being surrounded by the normalcy of others drinking alcohol made it difficult for me to keep my standards. Going to pubs with clients and coworkers was a regular circumstance I would find myself in. I grew tired of having to explain myself when I turned down a drink, and sometimes I just wanted to fit in.
But beyond wanting to fit in, I wanted to be an example of a disciple of Jesus Christ, so I learned a few ways to help me resist temptation:
I prayed for strength each morning to make good decisions.
I often listened to conference talks or hymns on my way to work.
I kept my favorite scripture taped to my bathroom mirror to read each day: “Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things” (Alma 26:12).
I enlisted the help of my closest coworkers, asking them to support me when others would offer me “just one drink.” They could tell when I was feeling uncomfortable and would kindly jump in and order me a “sparkling water on the rocks” to help me avoid feeling awkward during these gatherings.
I worked with many other religious individuals who had similar morals. There were a few practicing Muslims whom I bonded with, and we often sat together during work functions so we could have strength in numbers. Surrounding myself with like-minded people who respected my standards helped me immensely (see Ecclesiastes 4:9–10).
I strove to focus on my baptismal covenant to “always remember Him” (see Doctrine and Covenants 20:77, 79), which helped me feel the Spirit more abundantly. I had promised to follow God and be a disciple of Christ, and seeking to always remember the Savior helped me keep an eternal and infinite perspective in the most finite moments of temptation.
But what has helped me most in resisting temptation is knowing that the Lord has a higher purpose for keeping all of His commandments, including the Word of Wisdom. And I know that remaining true to the commandments has always blessed my life in so many ways. (See Doctrine and Covenants 82:10.)
I’ve realized that the Word of Wisdom is more than just going without alcohol and other strong substances. Heavenly Father gave us this commandment to help us maintain good health and practice self-mastery, to protect us from potentially crippling addictions and other consequences, and to allow us to find greater wisdom and knowledge (see Doctrine and Covenants 89).
I’ve seen that when we demonstrate obedience to the simple things the Lord asks of us, our capacity and desire to keep all of His commandments grows, and we can learn to overcome even greater temptations and challenges (see 2 Nephi 28:30).
I know that Heavenly Father loves me and that through His strength and the Savior’s, I can overcome peer pressure and temptation. I always remember Alma 7:11–12, which explains how the Savior understands all we face—pains, afflictions, and even temptations. He knows how “to succor his people according to their infirmities.”
As I have relied on Jesus Christ to help me in my weaknesses, I have felt His strength enter my life, and I more fully see that He truly does understand us. And when we are faced with temptation, He is ready to help us see the bigger picture and choose well. All we need to do is turn to Him.

Emily sat listening. She liked the Andersons. Joe and his family weren’t members of the Church, but he was often doing something good for others. The kids in the neighborhood all liked him and called him Uncle Joe. He always had time to listen to troubles and never made light of an individual’s problem, no matter how small. In spite of how busy he was, Uncle Joe would often stop and play a game of softball if an extra player was needed, and Emily especially liked the way he could tell a story. His imaginative tales fascinated not only small children but teenagers as well. But one of the things that claimed priority in importance in Emily’s thoughts was how Uncle Joe had helped her and David and Lora make a tie rack for papa’s birthday after he had hired the three to pull weeds in his garden so they could purchase lumber for the gift.
After the Landins left, Emily closed the catalog, mumbled something about deciding to wait for a day or two before ordering the coat, and then hurried to the bedroom before anyone could question her further.
The next day Joe Anderson’s health was constantly on Emily’s mind. She caught snatches of conversation at school from his daughter who was two years younger than Emily. “People have been good. So many have given what they could, but there is not quite enough money. He is getting worse—his lungs …”
Papa and the neighbors helped with the Andersons’ chores and offered words of cheer, but few could contribute financially.
A few days later, when the Jamestons were gathered around the pump organ singing, Emily slipped unnoticed into the bedroom. For a long time she stood quietly thinking.
“Yes,” she whispered to herself, “if my papa were ill, I would want everyone who could to help him get well.” Then she took the small jar of coins from the drawer of the dresser and joined her family in the front room.
Going to mama and papa, Emily held out her hard-earned savings. “I’ve thought about it for a long time, and I’ve decided that I want you to give this money to the Andersons,” she said.
Lora pressed her hand quickly over her mouth to smother the cry of disbelief that sprang to her lips. She looked around. Wasn’t anyone going to stop Emily from giving her money away? Mama was just sitting there, sitting there smiling, and papa, what was papa doing? Was something the matter with his eyes? Why was he brushing his hand across them so vigorously?
Finally, Lora could stand the silence no longer. “Are you sure, Emily?” she burst out. “What about your coat? You’ve waited so long and worked so hard.”
“I’m sure,” Emily said. “At least I’m sure that it isn’t as important for me to have a new coat as it is for Uncle Joe to get well.”
Papa placed his hand on Emily’s shoulder. For a few seconds he was silent When he spoke, the tone of his voice was low and unnatural for he was touched by the courage his 14-year-old daughter had shown in deciding to part with her savings.
“You are very unselfish, Emily, and you are filled with sweet compassion for others.” He stopped and swallowed hard before he went on. “And since you have given this considerable thought and this is what you want to do, then I think it would be nice if you gave the Andersons the money yourself.”
The next morning mama brought in Aunt Hattie’s coat that she had been altering as a surprise and gave it to her daughter. Emily’s eyes portrayed a quick preview of a smile that was coming. If she couldn’t have a new coat, this was next best, and her happy expression mingled gratitude with admiration at mama’s insight.
Emily wore the coat that night to a special school program. She arrived a little early, and the prelude music was being played softly when two classmates, Nadine and Lucille, neared the bench that she was sitting on. Emily heard their voices as they approached, but she wasn’t prepared for the shock she received when she looked up to speak to them, for Lucille had on a new wrap. Emily caught her breath sharply as she recognized it as being the beautiful blue coat from the sale catalog.
The program became a blur as Emily kept looking at the coat she had wanted so much, and after the closing song, she slipped quickly out of the building and stood for a moment, her hand pressed tightly on the jar of coins concealed in her large patch pocket. As Nadine and Lucille came out they were laughing and whispering. They didn’t see Emily hidden by the shadows.
“Did you see Emily’s made-over coat?” Lucille asked her cousin in a low tone.
“Did I ever!” Nadine giggled. “I have never seen such an ugly mess in my entire life.”
“Did you see how it bagged and how it sagged?” Lucille pulled at the hem of her coat in an exaggerated gesture to emphasize her meaning.
The two girls burst out laughing as they walked away. Emily waited until they were out of sight; then she turned and ran toward home, her tears keeping fast tempo to her running steps. She kept her hand tightly gripped on the small jar in her pocket while the decision to give her money away stood on rocky ground.
When she came to the Andersons’ residence, she stopped abruptly. Joe was propped in a chair in front of the window, and he looked pale, even at a distance. She saw him cough harshly, and his wife hurry to his side. Emily thought of Sam and how Uncle Joe had come immediately to the rescue when he had been needed. After the coughing subsided, Emily opened the gate and went up the walk to the door.
As she left the Andersons’ home, the piercing stab of hurt that had come from Lucille and Nadine’s cruel words began to fade from her memory. Instead she recalled the mist that had come to Uncle Joe’s eyes when she had handed him the money and his raspy voice thanking her again and again.
The crisp December air was near freezing, but Emily stopped for a moment in the darkness before she reached the cabin and looked at her secondhand wrap. Then a soft smile touched her lips, for in a sense, the coins were serving their purpose after all. True they hadn’t been used to purchase a new coat, yet because of the giving, Emily was aware that something new and beautiful was hers, and it was wrapping her in a feeling of warmth she had never experienced before.
Her smile broadened, and she hugged her made-over coat closer around her as she hurried on.

Elder Hugh B. Brown of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles (1883–1975) once shared such a lesson he learned while pruning a currant bush on a farm in Canada.
As he went about cleaning up and repairing his property, he came across a currant bush that had grown over six feet high and was yielding no berries. Therefore, he pruned it back drastically, leaving only small, teardrop-shaped stumps. The sight made it appear as if the currant bush were crying, and Elder Brown thought he heard the bush say:
“‘How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. … And now you have cut me down. … I thought you were the gardener here.’”
Elder Brown replied, “‘Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. If I let you go the way you want to go, you will never amount to anything. But someday, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to think back and say, “Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.”’”7

One day in 2023, Uyanga Altansukh was at work in the northern Mongolian city of Darkhan when the Mongolian mission president entered her workplace. In her words:
“I saw him and thought he had this bright light in his countenance. He was very kind and fun to those around him, and I felt warmth. Before he left, I asked him some questions. A few days later, he came into my work again and asked if I could attend his church. I thought it might be helpful. I was worried for my children’s future, as society seemed to be full of stress and darkness. I wanted my children to be like this man with a light in their countenance, spreading joy to others around them.
“One day the missionaries taught us the law of tithing. My children said with excitement, ‘We must pay our tithing, Mom.’ I could see my children’s faith at that moment. Before I joined the Church, I watched general conference and listened to President Russell M. Nelson speak. He announced new temples all over the world and said that a new temple would be built in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. I rejoiced and shed tears, even though I did not understand why. With this joy, I could tell that my faith and testimony were growing.”
Uyanga, like millions of others, is part of the great gathering of Israel in preparation for the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. She has begun her journey along the covenant path and has become a disciple of Christ.

“Savannah, have you thought about helping build the battery-powered car?” Mr. Murdock asked. “You could compete in the engineering fair.”
Savannah looked at her science teacher. She never thought she was very good at science, but maybe it would be fun to join the team building the car.
“Do you think I’d be good at it?” Savannah asked.
Mr. Murdock smiled. “Well, I can tell that you are sharp and have a unique way of looking at things,” he said. “That’s just what the team needs! Why don’t you come to the team meeting today?”
Savannah promised to think about it.
During lunch Savannah told her friends about Mr. Murdock’s suggestion.
“Do you really want to do that?” Amber asked. “It sounds pretty boring.”
“I don’t know,” Savannah said. “My grandpa’s an engineer, and I think it’s interesting.”
“It’ll just be more schoolwork for you to do,” Tess said.
Amber nodded. “Totally. Hey, why don’t you come downtown with us after school? My mom’s driving us.”
“No thanks,” Savannah said. “The team meeting is after school, and I want to go.”
Savannah knew her friends didn’t understand why she would pick building a car over shopping, but she wanted to try it.
After school Savannah went to Mr. Murdock’s classroom. During the team meeting, Savannah got more and more excited. Designing and building a car sounded really cool!
But as Savannah walked home, she remembered what Amber had said. What if it was boring? What if she got too busy with the car to see her friends? What if they stopped liking her?
“I really want to join the team,” Savannah told Mom that night. “But Amber and Tess think it will be boring.”
“Well, why do you want to join?” Mom asked.
Savannah thought for a minute. “I want to know how things work,” she said. “And maybe I want to be an engineer like Grandpa.”
“Those sound like good reasons to me,” Mom said.
They sounded like good reasons to Savannah too. Still, she worried about her friends.
“There will be lots of times when your friends say one thing but you think another,” Mom said. “It’s important to base your choices on what you feel is right.”
That night Savannah thought a lot. She asked Heavenly Father for help making her choice. Eventually she decided what she would do. She felt peaceful and excited.
The next day Savannah talked to Mr. Murdock. “I’ve decided to join the team,” she said.
“You’ll spend a lot of time here after school,” he said.
“I know. I’m looking forward to it.”
For the next month, the team met twice a week. Savannah volunteered to come up with a design for the car. After hours of drawing and throwing away ideas, she finally had one for the team to build. She loved working on this project! Even when she wasn’t working on it, she was still thinking about the car and how they could improve it.
The day of the fair, the car was ready. Savannah hadn’t been able to spend as much time with Amber and Tess, and it had been scary to try something new, but she was glad she had joined the team. Maybe it wasn’t the popular choice, but for Savannah, it was the right one. She imagined Jesus smiling at her. He hadn’t always made popular choices either, but they were always the right ones.
After testing more than 50 entries, the judges awarded Savannah’s team second place!
She couldn’t wait for next year’s fair. She already had a few ideas.

The jaded, blank-faced crowd congesting the Las Vegas strip paid little attention to the boy behind the wheel of the shiny Corvette. “Just another kid out cruising in his father’s car,” thought anyone who happened to glance his way.

But that was all right with 18-year-old Jack Farley, because he didn’t care much for the crowd, either. He had other things on his mind. He’d started working at age 14, and four years later he’d become sort of a bubble gum baron, controlling his own vending business. He’d paid for the Corvette himself and he’d driven it from the California coast to the desert resort town for an exciting weekend.

Yet something was bothering him. Something wasn’t quite right. His mind kept reverting back to what those Mormons were teaching him in the Sunday School class he’d started attending—things like service to others and eternal families. He’d be missing that church Sunday. Or maybe he wouldn’t—what was he doing here anyway? If he turned around now, he could easily make it back by morning.

The decision to drive back to his home in Mission Viejo, California, was one of the most important choices Jack ever made. Although he’d fought and won many battles in his life, the choice to go home for church led to what he considers the ultimate victory of his life so far. “I’m real thankful for the Church,” he says, “real thankful. I can’t even dream of where I’d be without it. Outside the Church, it’s like you fall into a river and it carries you wherever it goes. In the Church, you have control.”

“But I didn’t join right off,” Jack said. “I kind of sat back and doubted for a while, but I wish I hadn’t.” His Las Vegas excursion helped him appreciate the truths they were teaching him. “I looked around at the people there and thought ‘Lots of these people have money, but they’re still looking for something to make them happy,’” Jack said. Maybe he really could find what he was looking for in the Church.

The same Spirit that helped Jack choose to head home from Las Vegas is still helping him now. And it will continue to help him as he teaches the Japanese.

In your growing up there are many calls for courage, as you have heard so eloquently tonight from President Romney.
“
“You’re young, with your life before you,” said the chaplain on a sinking ship. “Here, take this,” he said. And with these words the chaplain shoved his life preserver into the hands of an enlisted man, and a few moments later, went down with the ship.
“The date was February 3, 1943. The tragedy was the torpedoing of the American troop ship Dorchester. The chaplain was one of four, all of whom said in effect the same thing, gave up their life preservers, and sacrificed their lives: one was a Catholic; two were Protestants; one was Jewish.
“Their heroism was a dramatic example of chaplains’ action in an emergency and it has become known everywhere. But chaplains’ day-to-day service for the men in the armed forces is less well understood, and it is important to all of us.” (Source unknown)

A Brother Cooper, noticing William’s skill with cattle, hired him to train his teams to work together in a yoke and then drive them to Utah. In return William and Elizabeth were promised free transportation. A few days later, however, their employer announced that he did not intend to go to Zion but wanted them to help him farm nearby. When William refused, he and Elizabeth were ordered out of the wagon and left without food or water.
Fortunately for the stranded couple, Elders Lyman and Charles C. Rich rode in from the west and found them that evening. They arranged for Elizabeth to ride to Utah with a family named Wardell for 40 dollars. Elder Lyman, however, asked William to return to Florence to help with the D. F. Kimball freight train. The fiancé agreed to this separation reluctantly:
“I think this was the greatest trial I ever underwent—to leave my betrothed and go back. However, I submitted and kissed my girl good-bye and gave her a half sovereign, all the money I had in the world, and jumped in the buckboard and we went, I with a sorrowful heart and a mind full of reflections as to the outcome of it all. Brother Rich found I was in tears and told me to cheer up and have faith and all would be well.”
His first night in camp provided the other men with a good laugh then and for years after. William, preparing for bed, reached in his bag for what he thought were closely woven cotton sailor overalls and instead he held up “some sort of ladies’ underwear trimmed and adorned with lace.” His comrades laughed loudly. He had taken his sweetheart’s bag by mistake instead of his own! But perhaps the seaman was more fortunate than the others: while the freight company members slept on hard ground for three months, William rested comfortably in his sea hammock slung between two wagon wheels. On rainy nights he simply covered himself and hammock with canvas.

I am reminded of an experience I had while I was in Canada. I worked side by side for a number of years with a man who was not a member of the Church. I had been reluctant to approach the subject of religion for fear of putting a strain on our friendly relationship. But finally I felt impressed to see if he were interested in learning about Mormonism and the gospel of Jesus Christ. He expressed interest and immediately thereafter he and his wife attended Sunday services with us. They, with their children, soon joined the Church, and they have indeed made a great contribution in time and talent. The parents have just returned from presiding over a mission, and the children have made contributions in various areas of service, and some have filled missions. What a loss to the Church if I had neglected my responsibility to tell them the good news of the gospel message!

On one occasion when he chastised me for waiting so long before telling him about the Church and thus keeping his family from enjoying the blessings of the gospel, I determined that would not happen again and that I would be more aware of who I was and act accordingly.

Church members in London celebrated the anniversary by helping clean up Tottenham, a city that experienced the August 2011 riots. In a regional park, volunteers weeded, built flower beds, and cleared litter.
Members also served at a children’s hospice, where they cleaned garden pathways and made the hospice grounds more accommodating to the children and their families. Charlotte Illera helped coordinate the project. “It was really hard work, but it was really sort of joyful work as well,” she said. “Even a little thing like sweeping up can be such a benefit. You don’t need to have any great skills. Just little things can make a difference to other people.”
Rudi Champagnie shared his view on the inspiration behind the First Presidency’s invitation to serve: “I think this revelation was to bring us closer together—to bring us out in the community, to meet new people.” He continued, “To see the Church getting involved in the community is a wonderful thing. To be a part of it is even more special. It has strengthened my testimony, and it has given me the desire to do more.”

When our eldest son, Jason, was 11 years old, we had an experience we will never forget. It was Sunday, and as the rest of the family was preparing for church, Jason complained he was feeling ill. We decided to leave him home and promised we would telephone him later to see how he was doing. Our meetinghouse was not far away, and we could run home if he needed us.
Just before sacrament meeting began, I felt prompted to call Jason right at that moment. The telephone rang many times, but Jason didn’t answer. I assumed he was sleeping and did not hear the phone. Yet a nagging feeling told me something was very wrong. Since my husband was in the bishopric at the time and was already sitting on the stand, I left my other children in their seats and told them I would return in a few minutes.
The five-minute trip to our home seemed to take forever. Once there, I raced into the house, frantically calling Jason’s name. For what seemed like an eternity, there was no answer, and I could not find him. Finally, I heard soft crying as Jason cautiously crawled out from behind the couch in the family room. I put my arms around him and could feel him trembling as he related what had happened.
He had been lying on the couch when he had a feeling he should hide. He got up immediately and hid behind the couch. Just then, he heard someone come in the front door. Thinking it must be the family, he quietly peeked out from his hiding place. He was horrified to see an intruder, wearing a black ski mask and gloves, going through drawers. He listened as the stranger wandered throughout the house. At that point the phone began ringing, and the intruder left. Of course, the ringing phone had been my call just before I left the meetinghouse.
I will always be grateful for the promptings of the Holy Ghost that both Jason and I experienced that day. I am so grateful I was prompted to come home to be there when Jason needed me. Who knows what might have happened if Jason had been discovered by the intruder? Not only was he protected, but I believe the Spirit helped him heal from this traumatic experience. Today Jason is a courageous and strong missionary whose treasured companion continues to be the Holy Ghost.

My family moved near Manti, Utah, in my sophomore year of high school. We lived at a place called Crystal Springs. By then, it was only a skeleton of more prosperous earlier years, when it had been a popular resort and, thereafter, a large dairy farm operated by my grandfather Giles and his family, including my folks.
We moved to Crystal Springs after my father had a heart attack and lost his job. We didn’t have much in those days, so it was necessary for my father to work as much as he could and for me to take employment as a plasterer’s helper to supplement the family income.
Although my parents were less active in the Church, my mother’s family, also living at Crystal Springs, fortunately were very active. They provided the critical support I needed to stay active in the Church at that time.
Of those high school days, I can remember many nights sitting on the edge of my bed, looking out at the Manti Utah Temple through my second-story bedroom window. I realized that, regardless of whether my folks had ever been there, the temple was a place I wanted to be able to go someday. The temple became a standard for me to measure everything else against.
It was during this time in my life that I began to feel the need to serve a mission. The promises made in D&C 31:5 began to play upon me: “Therefore, thrust in your sickle with all your soul, and your sins are forgiven you, and you shall be laden with sheaves upon your back. … Wherefore, your family shall live” (emphasis added). The two key promises in that verse became increasingly meaningful to me.
I made up my mind that I was going to serve a mission. I needed some method of showing the Lord that I truly did love Him in spite of my sometimes foolish youthful actions.
So, with the temple as a standard and a desire to serve a mission, I started to plan for a mission. Not long after that, my father had another heart attack and died. I was still in my first years at the university. With the death of my father, I suddenly realized that if I were to go on a mission, there would be no one to take care of my mother, grandmother, and two sisters.
I was torn between my sense of obligation toward my family and my obligation to Heavenly Father. I wasn’t even sure I could save enough money to get started on a mission, but I was determined that, if it were possible, I would go. I made a decision based totally on my faith in the Lord’s promise: “But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you” (Matt. 6:33).
Not long after, I received an offer to work at a very good job as an engineering aide in Oregon, in the western United States, which permitted me to save for a mission and send some money home. Still, it wasn’t easy. But as I pondered D&C 31:5 and Matthew 6:33, the Spirit said to me, “If you will seek first my kingdom (a mission), I will take care of your family.” I didn’t know how that would be possible, but I believed the Lord’s promises with all my heart.
When the time neared for me to leave, I still didn’t have all the money I would need to support myself, so I went to my bishop and explained my predicament. He said, “All the help you need you’ve got right at your fingertips.”
“What do you mean?” I said.
He told me to talk to my relatives, even to nonmembers and less-active members, to see if they would help me. “Go bear your testimony to them,” he said. “Tell them you want to serve the Lord, and ask for their help.”
I didn’t know how I was going to do that, but I did, and all those I asked said they would help a little. The high priests group in my ward helped me with the rest.
I was soon on my way to the Spanish-American Mission, based in San Antonio, Texas. After I got into the mission field, the things that took place, both there and at home, clearly confirmed that I had made the right decision. My family was being taken care of as well or better than if I had stayed home, and the joy of missionary service had changed my heart and the direction of my life.
My mission became the great turning point in my life. I could tell myself and my family at home that I knew I was doing what the Lord wanted me to do and that, although I didn’t know how everything was going to work out, I knew it would work out the best for all of us.
During the time I was in the mission field, my mother began to come back to church. And when my sweetheart and I married after my mission, my mother was able to be in the temple with us. Many of those who assisted in financing my mission also drew closer to the Church.

Searching for a great idea for a youth conference? The Aurora Colorado Stake has a suggestion.
Work.
Hard work.
Like shoveling gravel, digging dirt, weeding, painting, washing cars.
Mixed with fun and fellowship.
There’s an explanation. The young people from Aurora wanted to do something different for their youth conference, something special. So they spent three days cleaning up a city.
“We asked the stake youth committee what they wanted to do,” explained Richard C. Humpherys, second counselor in the stake presidency. “They said, ‘something to help someone else,’ and ‘something to build our testimonies.’ Since they asked for it, we encouraged them to go ahead.”
Inspired by a story on service in the Tambuli (see “Building a House Helped Build Testimonies,” February 1988, page 47), the youth committee looked around for a community they could help. They settled on Granby for three reasons: it was close to Aurora; economically the community wasn’t doing very well; and the mayor, town council, and chamber of commerce seemed genuinely interested in providing projects for the youth to work on.
There was an added benefit, too. The small Latter-day Saint branch in Granby, with a total of five active families, had youth who would welcome some company and fellowship with other Church youth. And, while the young people from Aurora were there, it was decided, they could help paint the Granby chapel.
Buses left Aurora at 7:00 on a Thursday morning. By 10:30 A.M., eighty-four young people divided into eight teams were busy all over Granby. Since they were all wearing identical T-shirts, they were fairly conspicuous. And a local radio station advertising the Latter-day Saint youth’s free car wash also let people know who they were and what they were doing.
Besides cleaning up the main street of Granby, washing cars, tidying the cemetery, spreading gravel at the train depot, and chopping weeds at a main intersection on the highway into town, the youth painted the city’s historic log church, landscaped its grounds, and polished the benches and the organ inside.
And of course, that’s very much what the youth were saying over at the chapel.
The Granby youth and the youth from Aurora did everything at the conference together, not only the service projects, but the other activities as well. They played volleyball together. They played football together. They even played soccer with an oversized ball.
Activities included a Hawaiian-style dinner with a floor show, a swimming party, and a dance. But the main activity was conversation, a sharing of ideals and fellowship.
Over the three-day period, the youth from Granby and the youth from Aurora grew comfortable discussing common goals—missionary work, reading and sharing the Book of Mormon, morality and standards, maintaining faith when the world’s full of doubt. That closeness was also reinforced at nightly devotionals, where leaders stressed themes such as “Little Decisions Made Now Have Big Consequences Later,” “Gospel Suggestions on How to Be Happy,” and “Your Most Important Possession is Your Testimony.”
But of course, as it always is, the final meeting of the conference was the highlight. In a sunlit room, the Latter-day Saint youth met Granby’s mayor, Jerry Roberts. The presented him with framed historical photographs of Granby, which now hang in the train station, and with a Book of Mormon, which they hope he will read. They listened while he expressed the community’s gratitude.
Then the youth and their leaders spent an hour or two talking to each other, speaking from the heart.
Of course, as they talked, the youth also offered an evaluation of their three days of service.
Then the president of the Granby Branch, Gary M. Cooper, spoke.
“The branch was formed fifteen years ago, he said, “and I can honestly say that this is the best thing that’s ever happened to us. We appreciate that you took the time to come here and bring us into the limelight in our Community. It’s something we’ve wanted to do for a long time. You did a lot of work and you cleaned up the community, and that’s important. But what I really hope is that because of your example, someone will accept the gospel. That would be the greatest service of all.”

Let me know how I can help. I’ve said this myself, dozens of times, but words alone are meaningless. I prefer the approach of my neighbor when a section of my backyard fence was blown over in a windstorm. He didn’t ask if there was anything he could do to help, he just came over one day, replaced a rotted post, and repaired the fence.
Are there some specific things that you could use some help with right now? When my neighbor saw my broken fence and fixed it, he knew that I needed help. But other needs aren’t as easily determined without asking. Gently ask or suggest ways in which you might help. For example, I was concerned that the financial provisions for my family were in order, but didn’t quite know how to go about determining whether or not they were. One day my bishop, who is a certified public accountant, came to see me. “If you’d like me to,” he said, “I’d be happy to review your financial affairs with you and your wife.” I was grateful for his tact, and relieved to learn after his review that things were as we wished them to be.

How we preserve time for family is one of the most significant issues we face in most cultures. At a time when I was the only member of the Church in our law firm, one woman lawyer explained to me how she always felt like a juggler trying to keep three balls in the air at the same time. One ball was her law practice, one was her marriage, and one was her children. She had almost given up on time for herself. She was greatly concerned that one of the balls was always on the ground. I suggested we meet as a group and discuss our priorities. We determined that the primary reason we were working was to support our families. We agreed that making more money wasn’t nearly as important as our families, but we recognized that serving our clients to the best of our abilities was essential. The discussion then moved to what we did at work that was not necessary and was inconsistent with leaving time for family. Was there pressure to spend time in the workplace that was not essential?17 We decided that our goal would be a family-friendly environment for both women and men. Let us be at the forefront in protecting time for family.

Shortly thereafter I boarded a train in Osaka for Yokahama and a ship that would take me home. Brother and Sister Sato came to the station to say good-bye. Many tears were shed as we bade one another farewell.
It was a very chilly night. The railroad station, what there was left of it, was very cold. Starving children were sleeping in the corners. That was a common sight in Japan in those days. The fortunate ones had a newspaper or a few old rags to fend off the cold.
On that train, I slept restlessly. The berths were too short anyway. In the bleak, chilly hours of the dawn, the train stopped at a station along the way. I heard a tapping on the window and raised the blind. There on the platform stood a little boy tapping on the window with a tin can. I knew he was an orphan and a beggar; the tin can was the symbol of their suffering. Sometimes they carried a spoon as well, as if to say, “I am hungry; feed me.”
He might have been six or seven years old. His little body was thin with starvation. He had a thin, ragged shirtlike kimono, nothing else. His head was shingled with scabs. His one jaw was swollen—perhaps from an abscessed tooth. Around his head he had tied a filthy rag with a knot on top of his head—a pathetic gesture of treatment.
When I saw him and he saw that I was awake, he waved his can. He was begging. In pity, I thought, “How can I help him?” Then I remembered. I had money, Japanese money. I quickly groped for my clothing and found some yen notes in my pocket. I tried to open the window. But it was stuck. I slipped on my trousers and hurried to the end of the car. He stood outside expectantly. As I pushed at the resistant door, the train pulled away from the station. Through the dirty windows I could see him, holding that rusty tin can, with the dirty rag around his swollen jaw.
There I stood, an officer from a conquering army, heading home to a family and a future. There I stood, half-dressed, clutching some money which he had seen but which I could not get to him. I wanted to help him, but couldn’t. The only comfort I draw is that I did want to help him.
That was 38 years ago, but I can see him as clearly as if it were yesterday.
Perhaps I was scarred by that experience. If so, it is a battle scar, a worthy one, for which I bear no shame. It reminds me of my duty!