Gospel Story Finder

A Relief Society president knows that, in spite of a report which shows members receiving temporary assistance constitute 4 percent of a ward, to the sister in distress it is 100 percent. Her needs are whole and real. Consider the case of a woman we shall call Sister Allen. Troubled and lonely, she had just returned from a hospital stay and major surgery. Two months before, her husband had abandoned his responsibilities to their family of five. The bishop had visited, and now the Relief Society president came. It was a family-needs visit, and as they talked Sister Allen spoke wistfully of having some cream of asparagus soup and blueberry muffins. These items were not on the bishop’s order form and could have been dismissed as not available. But the president really wanted to serve Sister Allen and wondered if this rather special request might suggest a need for more than food. What was Sister Allen’s real need? Was it for commodities or for consideration, for someone to demonstrate that she was worthwhile by giving her special attention now, when her problems seemed to overwhelm her?
Sensing the larger need, the Relief Society president ordered the items available through the storehouse, then assigned compassionate service responsibilities to her visiting teachers and others to provide meals that included the muffins and the soup and also to show their concern in other visible and tangible ways. Sister Allen responded. She got better, aided by the food but more so by their friendship.

Let me share with you the true account of one sister, Ellen Yates from Grantsville, Utah. Early in October, 10 years ago, she kissed her husband, Leon, good-bye as he left to go to work in Salt Lake City. This would be the last time she would see Leon alive. He had a collision with a young man 20 years of age who was late for his first job and had tried to pass a slower vehicle, resulting in a head-on collision that killed them both instantly. Sister Yates said that after two compassionate highway patrolmen told her the news, she plunged into shock and grief.
She records, “As I tried to look ahead in life, all I could see was darkness and pain.” It turned out that her husband’s best friend was the bishop of the young man’s ward. The bishop called Sister Yates and told her that the young man’s mother, Jolayne Willmore, wanted to talk with her. She remembers “being shocked because I was so centered on my grief and pain that I had not even thought about the young man and his family. I suddenly realized that here was a mother who was in as much or more pain than I was. I quickly gave my permission … for a visit.”
When Brother and Sister Willmore arrived, they expressed their great sorrow that their son was responsible for Leon’s death and presented her with a picture of the Savior holding a little girl in His arms. Sister Yates says, “When times become too hard to bear, I look at this picture and remember that Christ knows me personally. He knows my loneliness and my trials.” One scripture that comforts Sister Yates is “Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you.”
Each October, Sister Yates and Sister Willmore (both of whom are here together in the Conference Center today) go to the temple together and offer thanks for the Atonement of Jesus Christ, for the plan of salvation, for eternal families, and for the covenants that bind together husbands and wives and families on both sides of the veil. Sister Yates concludes, “Through this trial, I have felt the love of my Father in Heaven and my Savior in greater abundance than I had ever felt before.” She testifies that “there is no grief, no pain, no sickness so great that the Atonement of Christ and the love of Christ cannot heal.” What a wonderful example of love and forgiveness these two sisters have demonstrated. It has allowed the Atonement of Jesus Christ to be efficacious in their lives.

Ethan was very brave. He valiantly defended his home and family against any bad guys that threatened it. But sometimes Ethan got tired. It seemed like every day there were new bad guys to fight. Yesterday there had been a ferocious dinosaur, the day before there were growling pirates, and today he faced man-eating sharks. Ethan could imagine the sharks swimming across the carpet in his bedroom.
“Come on, Kate, grab my hand,” Ethan called out to his little sister. “I will save you.”
Kate giggled and put her small hand into his.
“Sharks have long, sharp teeth,” Ethan said as he led her in a zigzag path across the room. “And they can bite. Look out!” He pulled Kate away from the bed, where he pretended a very large shark was hiding.
When they reached the bedroom door, Ethan peeked out and saw his mother sitting at the kitchen table folding laundry. She was listening to Primary music and softly singing along.
“Run to Mom, Kate,” Ethan urged. “She’ll protect you.”
Laughing, Kate ran to their mother, who scooped her up in a hug.
Later that day Ethan discovered some army men lurking behind the family room couch.
“Bang!” Ethan said, pointing his finger. “Bang! I got you.”
Mother frowned. “No shooting people, Ethan,” she said.
“But Mom,” Ethan protested, “he was a bad guy. I’m only shooting bad army men, not the good ones.”
“I don’t want any killing in our house,” Mom said.
Ethan was puzzled. How could he protect his family without killing all the bad guys?
After dinner, Ethan’s family had scripture study. Ethan liked to read the scriptures. Right now they were reading the Book of Mormon, and there were lots of bad guys and lots of good guys in it. There were good kings, good soldiers, and good missionaries.
They had finished the part in the Book of Mormon where Nephi’s family had crossed the ocean in their ship. The ship went through a big storm before arriving safely in the promised land. Now they were reading the part where Lehi was talking to his family about how the Lord had watched over them on their journey.
Ethan was listening very carefully as his dad read. He knew that soon Dad would stop reading and ask, “What is happening now? What does it mean?”
Ethan’s dad read, “‘And if it so be that they shall keep his commandments they shall be blessed upon the face of this land, and there shall be none to molest them, nor to take away the land of their inheritance; and they shall dwell safely forever’” (2 Ne. 1:9).
“Does that mean,” Ethan blurted out, not waiting for Dad to ask, “that if we keep the commandments we will be safe, too?”
“Yes.” Dad smiled. “It certainly does.”
“How?” Ethan asked. He wondered how keeping Heavenly Father’s commandments would keep away ferocious dinosaurs, growling pirates, and other bad guys.
“Well,” Dad said, “I think you were too young to remember, but when we first moved into this house, we had a special prayer and dedicated our home to Heavenly Father. We prayed that it would be a safe place where the Spirit can dwell. So now we try to do all the things the prophets tell us to keep a good spirit in our home.”
“Like having family home evening,” Mom said.
“And watching only good things on TV and on the computer,” Dad said.
“And reading good books and listening to good music,” Mom added.
“And being kind to each other,” Dad said. “All these things keep our home safe from evil.”
“Scripture study, too?” Ethan asked.
Mom nodded. “Especially scripture study.”
Ethan felt relieved. He was happy to know he wasn’t the only one working hard to keep his home safe.
The next week, Ethan was still very brave. He had to scare off a T. rex hiding behind the trees in the backyard. He pulled the plug on a giant octopus in the bathtub. He even discovered a monster troll hiding in the coat closet and had to tell it, in a very loud voice, to “leave now, and never come back.”
But now Ethan knew he wasn’t working alone. He knew that whenever Mom listened to his prayers, or Dad gave a priesthood blessing, or Kate shared her toys with him, they were all bravely working together to keep their home a safe and loving place to live.

In fleeing with Joseph from a mob, a young man reported, “sickness and fright had robbed me of my strength. Joseph had to decide whether to leave me to be captured by the mob, or endanger himself by rendering aid. Choosing the latter course, he lifted me upon his broad shoulders and bore me with occasional rest through the swamp and darkness. Several hours later we emerged upon the only road and soon reached safety. Joseph’s herculean strength permitted him to [save] my life.” (New Era, Dec. 1973, p. 19.)

Brother Woodruff said:
“The first sermon that I ever heard in this Church was in 1833, by old father Zera Pulsipher, who died in the south, after having lived to be considerably over eighty years old. That sermon was what I had prayed for from my childhood,” he said. “When I heard it I had a testimony for myself that it was true. I received it with every sentiment of my heart. He preached in a schoolhouse upon a farm that we owned in Oswego County, New York. He opened the door for any remarks to be made. The house was crowded. The first thing I knew I stood on top of a bench before the people, not knowing what I got up for. But I said to my neighbors and friends, ‘I want you to be careful what you say as touching these men (there were two of them) and their testimony, for they are servants of God, and they have testified unto us the truth—principles that I have been looking for from my childhood.’
“I went forth and was baptized. I was ordained a teacher. I was always sorry that I was not a deacon first, for I had a desire to bear the priesthood in its various degrees as far as I was worthy. I had had a desire for years, not only to hear the gospel, but to have the privilege and power of preaching it to my fellow men. I was a miller by trade, and I spent many a midnight hour in the mill calling upon the Lord for light and truth, and praying that I might hear the gospel of Christ, and be able to teach it to my fellow men. I rejoiced in it when I did receive it.” (Discourses of Wilford Woodruff, sel. G. Homer Durham, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1946, p. 304.)

I was playing at a friend’s house when another boy came over to play. The other boy began using bad language and not being nice. My friend asked the boy to stop. He didn’t, so my friend told him to go home. The boy refused. My friend called the boy’s mom on the phone, explained what was going on, and handed the phone to the boy. He hung up on his mom. My friend called her again, and this time the boy listened to his mom and went home.
This was a brave thing for my friend to do. I am thankful for good friends who are not afraid to stand up for what is right. I know that friends like that help me to choose the right.

By December 1827 there had been several attempts to steal the plates, so Joseph decided to move with Emma to the home of her parents in Harmony Township, Pennsylvania.

When Joseph and Emma arrived, Joseph allowed Isaac Hale, Emma’s father, to heft the plates in a box. Isaac later stated, “I was allowed to feel the weight of the box, and they gave me to understand, that the book of plates was then in the box.” Yet he was unconvinced and dissatisfied with the situation. He told Joseph to either show him the plates or remove them from his house. Joseph hid the plates in the nearby woods until he and Emma moved into their own home on the Hale property.

Now, you may be thinking: “It’s not that easy for me. I have so many people to watch over. And I have so little time.” But where the Lord calls, He prepares a way—His way. There are shepherds who believe that. I’ll tell you about one.
Two years ago, a man was called as the president of his elders quorum. He had been a member of the Church for less than 10 years. He had just become worthy to be sealed to his wife and family in the temple. His wife was an invalid. He had three daughters. The oldest was 13, and she cooked the meals and, with the others, cared for the house. His scant earnings from manual labor supported not only those five people but a grandfather who lived with them in their small house.
When he was called to be president of his elders quorum, it had 13 members. That tiny quorum was responsible for another 101 men who either had no priesthood at all or who were deacons, teachers, or priests. He was responsible to watch over the souls of 114 families, with little hope that he could devote more than his Sundays and perhaps one night a week to his service, with all he did to serve his own family.
The difficulty of what he faced drove him to his knees in prayer. Then he stood up and went to work. In his efforts to meet and know his sheep, his prayers were answered in a way he had not expected. He came to see beyond individuals. He came to know that the Lord’s purpose was for him to build families. And even with his limited experience, he knew that the way to build families would be to help them qualify to make and keep temple covenants.
He began to do what a good shepherd always does, but he did it differently when he saw the temple as their destination. First, he prayed to know who were to be his counselors to go with him. And then he prayed to know which families needed him and had been prepared.
He called on as many as he could. Some were cold and did not accept his friendship. But with those who did, he followed a pattern. As soon as he saw interest and trust, he invited them to meet the bishop. He had asked the bishop beforehand: “Please tell them what it takes to be worthy to go to the temple to claim its blessings for them and their families. And then please testify to them, as I have, that it will be worth it.”
A few then accepted the quorum president’s invitation to a temple preparation class taught by stake leaders. Not all completed the course, and not all qualified for the temple. But each family and each father was prayed for. Most were invited at least once to a feast of the good word of God. With every invitation came the president’s testimony of the blessings of being a family sealed forever and the sadness of being separated. Every invitation was issued with the love of the Savior.
During the president’s service, he has seen 12 of the men he taught ordained elders. He has seen four of his elders ordained high priests. Those numbers don’t come close to measuring the miracle. The families of those men will be blessed over generations. Fathers and mothers are now sealed to each other and to their children. They are praying over their children, receiving the help of heaven, and teaching the gospel with the love and inspiration the Lord gives to faithful parents.
That president and his counselors have become true shepherds. They have watched over the flock with the Master and have come to love Him.

Nolan has also learned to be persistent. Even when activities aren’t easy for him, he works hard at them and keeps trying. He has been practicing throwing and hitting a baseball, and is getting quite good at it. During the summer, he ran in a 5K race with his mom and his brother Hayden, 8. They practiced for a few weeks ahead of time. His mom says, “I was expecting to have to urge them along, but they left me in the dust. Nolan walked a little in the middle, but he pushed me the whole way. He ran across the finish line, and we were very proud of him.”

A friend of mine, Michael Koerber, discovered these principles when he was studying the gospel. Initially he didn’t take the lessons too seriously. He said that he was stubborn and did not read the Book of Mormon. However, due to a singular spiritual experience he and his wife, Audrey, had with the missionaries, he realized that he had to make more than a casual commitment. He committed to read the Book of Mormon.

One morning while on vacation he was reading the Book of Mormon. He reported his experience in these words:
I was reading in Alma somewhere. I remember ­having come to the end of my reading for that morning and coming to a very clear and undeniable realization of the truth of the Book of Mormon. It is indescribable. All I know is that it is as though every cell of my body rang out or sang out or shouted out, “This is it! This is true! Here it is! Look no further! You have the answer to your prayers!”
I remember getting up and walking over to my wife and saying to her, “We are joining this church.”
Audrey then asked, “Why now? What changed?”
I answered, “I don’t know. But I do know that this book is true. And if this book is true, then it was translated by a prophet of God. And if it was translated by a prophet of God, then I am joining this church.”

I remember telling this story to my friend Kris, who shared that her own story was very similar to mine but had resulted in almost the exact opposite educational path. Kris had always hoped to pursue a PhD fairly directly after her undergraduate studies and had planned to do so. But when she inquired of the Lord, He led her in a different direction. The experience was powerful and clear, so Kris focused on raising her young children at home, trusting the Lord and His guidance. Together, Kris and I marveled that God’s voice could be so clear in each of our circumstances, and, trusting in His goodness, we wondered how His plans for her would continue to unfold.

When I reached out to Kris to ask if I could share her story, I learned that the Spirit has begun to open new vistas for her future. She shared that it can be difficult and overwhelming to try to see what the Lord has planned—especially when such revelation doesn’t come all at once. I don’t know what the Lord has in store for Kris, but I do know that it will be both challenging and beautiful.

We have all sorts of Christmas parties and functions where we load up on goodies and give each other ridiculous white elephant gifts. We participate in family traditions that we never do any other time of the year. For example, in our home, we have a crazy tradition we call “Elfville.”
We put on our elf hats and go to work building an entire elf village out of empty appliance boxes, duct tape, and Christmas lights. We then eat and sleep in our newly built elf homes. In case you were wondering, I am the little guy sitting down in the photo. And truth be told, I have actually been asked more than once in public, by children, if I was an elf (and that is without even wearing an elf hat). It is truly amazing how many ways Christmas changes our thoughts and behavior. There is a magic in the air, and hopefully we are all beginning to feel and enjoy it.

“It’s just like eating an elephant, Jerry,” the bishop said.
“What do you mean? I don’t get it.” Jerry brushed some lint from the sleeve of his navy blue suit, which he had unwillingly but obediently donned for his annual interview. He was trying to look as dignified as he could, but here was the bishop talking about elephants!
Bishop Lambert leaned forward and pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Planning your life is like eating an elephant,” he repeated. “Play along with me for a minute and you’ll see. Assume you really like the taste of elephant meat. You don’t have to eat it all in one meal. It would be possible to eventually eat the whole elephant, wouldn’t it?”
“I guess so.”
“You probably wouldn’t walk up to the side of a live elephant and take a bite would you? How would you go about it?”
Jerry was starting to relax a bit. Maybe this interview was actually going to be fun. “Well,” he said, “I’d have to shoot it first. Right between the eyes with an elephant gun.”
“And then?”
“I’d have to skin it and quarter it, and then cut it into pieces small enough to roast in the oven. And I’d probably have to rent a freezer big enough to store the meat until I could eat it.”
“But over a period of time, you could actually eat it, right?”
“Right,” Jerry grinned. “But I’d have to develop a liking for elephantburgers.”
They both smiled. Jerry was curious as to what this was all about.
“That’s the same way you’re going to get to the celestial kingdom,” the bishop said. “Or at least the idea is similar.”
“Huh?” Jerry shook his head.
“Pull your chair over here by the desk, and I’ll show you what I mean. What’s the most important goal you have right now?”
Jerry straightened his six-foot-four-inch frame. “To win the game tomorrow night. It’s the championship!”
“That is important to you, isn’t it? I think we’ve got a good shot at it. But what I mean for right now is, what’s the most important thing you want out of life?”
Here comes the serious part, Jerry thought. “I want to get to heaven, I guess.”
“Will you be satisfied with just ‘heaven’?”
Jerry brushed his carrot-red hair back from its perpetual resting place across his right eyebrow. “Well, I really want to be in the celestial kingdom, in the highest degree of glory.”
The bishop handed him a triple combination. “Moses 1:39,” he said. “The Lord seems to have the same goal that you do.”
Jerry cleared his throat and read outloud, “For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.”
The bishop pointed at the scripture with his pen. “Is there anything you can think of that is more important than that?”
“You mean immortality and eternal life?”
“Right.”
“I guess not.”
“How close are you to it?”
“I’m pretty far away.”
“But you just told me it was your most important goal. Aren’t you working toward it? Didn’t you say that’s your real mission in life?”
“I never thought about it like that: It’s so far off.”
“Ah. You’re looking at it like you were looking at the elephant. As though it were just too big to eat.”
The bishop pulled a piece of paper from his desk and clicked his pen.
Gerald Allen RogersMission in life:to gain the celestial kingdom
He finished writing and looked sincerely at Jerry. “That’s the elephant,” he said. “It includes everything else you want to accomplish in life. It’s the most important of all.”
“I see the idea now,” Jerry said. “From here we’ve got to break it into smaller pieces, right?”
“You’ve got it,” the bishop said, his glasses slipping down again. “Now let’s look at it again for a minute. We said the celestial kingdom includes both immortality and eternal life. What’s the difference?”
Jerry was glad he knew that one. “Immortality is living without death as a resurrected being, and eternal life is, well, it’s life like Heavenly Father’s life, with the power of creation and all that.”
“Very good. Why don’t we have to worry about immortality?
Jerry knew that one, too. “It’s a free gift through Christ’s resurrection, free to all people, good or bad.”
“I see you’ve been paying attention to Brother Jensen’s seminary lessons,” the bishop said. He pushed his glasses back up again and shifted his place in his chair. “Now, think about your major objectives in life. What are the things that will help you achieve eternal life?”
Jerry thought for a second, then his blue eyes brightened. “Well, one would be a mission, wouldn’t it?”
“I think it would. Let me give you a good reason why. A very high percentage of returned missionaries are married in the temple. Why do you think that would be important?”
“Because you can’t become like Heavenly Father without a temple marriage.”
“Why not?”
“Well, no eternal wife, no eternal life!” He’d heard that somewhere and thought it was pretty clever. But he rephrased it seriously. “Without a wife sealed to you, how can you have spirit children?” Jerry was feeling pretty good about his ability to answer the questions.
“That’s a key objective in achieving your life’s mission, then, isn’t it? What’s another major objective?”
“Well, I want to graduate from seminary.”
“Why?” The bishop wanted Jerry to put it in his own words.
“It’s a good way to learn about the gospel.”
The bishop nodded. “You’re planning on college, too, aren’t you? Do you want to graduate from the institute of religion?”
“What’s that?”
“It’s like seminary, only on a college level.”
“I guess so. I hadn’t thought about it.” Jerry felt a bit sheepish. He looked at the bishop in his well-pressed suit, white shirt, and tie, and wondered if he would ever feel as in control of his life as the bishop seemed to be.
“There’s another good reason for graduating from seminary and institute,” Bishop Lambert continued. “Besides learning the gospel, I mean. A very high percentage of people who graduate end up getting married in the temple—more than 90 percent. That would improve your chances of fulfilling that key objective quite a bit, if you ask me.”
The bishop was writing again, “Now you’ve got several major objectives listed. Any more?”
“You talked about college. I still want to go to dental school.”
“Excellent! Why don’t we write that your objective is to someday establish a successful dental practice.”
“Okay,” said Jerry, silently appreciating the bishop’s clarification.
“Now, you may have several additional major objectives, like raising a family or building a home. But let’s not worry about all of them right now. You can do that later. At this point you could say you’ve quartered the elephant. Now we’ve got to cut the quarters into elephant roasts.”
“How do I do that?”
“By setting specific, measurable goals that you can achieve by a certain date. That gives you control. Numbers and deadlines tell you precisely where you want to go on your way to achieving major objectives.
“Wait a minute,” Jerry said. “I’m getting lost again.”
“Okay, let’s take an example,” the bishop said, pulling out another sheet of paper. “Pick one of your major objectives.”
“How about my mission?” Jerry figured that was the one the bishop really wanted him to pick, since he talked about it all the time.
“Good. What’s a goal that will help you prepare for it?”
“To earn some money, I guess.” Jerry brushed his hair back again.
“That’s part of it. Let’s start a new list.”
Major objective: Mission
Goals:
(1) Earn money
“Now, what else would help?”
“I could study my scriptures and learn the missionary discussions.”
“What else?”
“How about learning to cook?”
“Good. You’re good at this. You’ve got four already. You might want to get your patriarchal blessing, too, or work with the full-time missionaries here once in a while. All right. Let’s go back to the first goal and translate it into goal language. How much does it cost for a mission?”
“Brother Pederson told us in quorum meeting that right now the average cost is about $4,300, not counting pre-mission expenses. That’s a lot of money.”
“You’re right. Is it your goal to earn $4,300?”
“Well, dad said he’d help, but I’d sure like to do as much as I can.”
“Okay.” The bishop took off his glasses and laid them on the desk. “But do you remember what I said about goals being specific?”
“Yes, numbers and deadlines.”
“Why do you think a deadline is so important?”
“It kind of pushes you into doing it?”
The bishop looked pleased. “Jerry, you’re doing great. See how goal setting works? It’s just a matter of planning. And planning is simply careful choosing. It’s really just common sense, but very few people go to the trouble of doing it. Writing it down on a monthly or weekly or daily basis helps you reevaluate and stay committed. Can you put a deadline and an amount on your money-earning goal?”
“How about $3,600 by my 19th birthday?”
“Fine. When is it?” The pen was poised.
“November 13, 1982.”
“How much money have you already saved?”
Jerry tugged a bit nervously at his tie as he thought about all the money he’d been pumping into his car. “I think I have about $200 in the bank,” he finally said. “I’ve been spending some on my car, but it’s working good now.”
The bishop assumed a businesslike attitude. “That leaves you $3,400 to raise in about three years, or about $100 per month. What are you making now?”
“About $150,” Jerry said. He noticed that the bishop was pinning him down to exact figures.
“Now be practical and realistic. Can you honestly get by on the $50 a month you’d have left? Don’t forget tithing, school, and gas. Can you do it?”
“It would be hard, but I could do it.”
“Let’s write down that after your newspaper collection each month, you’ll put $100 in the bank. With the interest and with help from your dad, that should do it.”
The bishop put down his pen, then looked Jerry right in the eye. “I want you to know I think your goal is admirable. I know the Lord will help you accomplish it if you keep thinking about it and working on it. Pray about it, too.” He rose to his feet. “I hope you’ve learned something. Planning is a key to success in life.”
“Thanks, bishop. I think I’ll go write down some other goals. You’ve shown me some good ideas.”
“Just remember not to let the size of your mission scare you. I’ll have some more ideas for you next time we talk. Let me know how you like elephantburgers!”
Jerry shook hands, opened the office door, and waved good-bye. Halfway across the foyer he started talking to himself. “Let’s see, a goal has to have numbers and a deadline. … I wonder how many elephantburgers I can eat by Friday night?”

This story happened in Germany.
“There is sunshine in my soul today!” Matvii sang. His mom and brother, Tymofii, sang with him. It was dark outside the car window. But the song helped everything feel a little brighter.
It was a scary time for Matvii and his family. They were moving to Germany because their home wasn’t safe anymore. They had traveled for two days, and now they were almost there. A bishop here in Germany was driving them to a place to stay.
Matvii was glad Heavenly Father helped them get to Germany safely. But he missed Dad. He had to stay behind in their country because of a war. Matvii worried about him a lot.
The bishop parked the car outside a house. “Welcome to my home.”
Matvii grabbed his bag and followed his family inside. It was quiet. The bishop’s family must have gone to bed already.
“You can stay in Mats’s and Lore’s rooms while you’re here,” the bishop said.
“Wait,” said Mom. “They don’t have to give up their rooms for us.”
The bishop smiled. “They are happy to do it. We want you to feel comfortable.”
Mom nodded. “Thank you.”
In the morning, Matvii and Tymofii went to the kitchen for breakfast. The bishop sat at the table with a boy and girl. They didn’t look much older than Matvii.
“These are my kids Mats and Lore,” the bishop said.
“Nice to meet you,” said Tymofii.
Mats and Lore looked a little confused.
“They don’t speak your language,” the bishop said. “But I’m sure you’ll be good friends.”
Matvii frowned. How could they be friends if they couldn’t talk to each other? He felt like the sunshine he had been singing about last night was gone.
After they ate, Mats and Lore showed them a playroom. Two younger children were playing with some toys. Matvii guessed they were Mats and Lore’s younger siblings.
Mats said something. It sounded like a question, but Matvii didn’t know what he said. Mats sat down and opened a box of cards. He sorted them into piles. Then he and Lore picked up their cards. Matvii wanted to play. But he didn’t know how!
Mats laid down a card and looked at Matvii. He said something again.
Matvii wanted to cry. He didn’t want to live in Germany if he couldn’t understand anyone.
Lore said something to Mats, then ran off to the closet. She came back and set a new game on the floor.
Matvii knew this game. The wooden pieces looked like the ones he had at home. It was chess! He had played chess with Dad for hours. Matvii nodded happily. He knew how to play this one.
Lore smiled big and started setting up the pieces.
Matvii moved his pawn two squares and watched as Lore moved her knight. Then Matvii moved his bishop to Lore’s knight. He and Tymofii cheered. Lore made a frustrated sound, but she was smiling.
They played for a long time. Soon they were laughing. They didn’t understand each other’s words, but they still had fun.
Over the next few weeks, they found other games they all knew. They played football outside with other German kids. Matvii learned a few words in German too. Sometimes he made mistakes, but he kept trying.
Matvii still missed his dad and his home. But he was grateful Heavenly Father had helped him make new friends.
Illustrations by Hannah Li

Some years ago while I was attending a priesthood leadership session of the Monument Park West Stake conference, this scripture became the theme for the visitor from the Welfare Committee, my former stake president, Paul C. Child. In his accustomed style, Brother Child left the stand and began to walk down the aisle among the assembled priesthood brethren. He quoted the verse, “Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God.” (D&C 18:10.) Then he asked the question, “Who can tell me the worth of a human soul?”

Every man in attendance began to think of an answer in the event Brother Child were to call on him. I had grown up under his leadership, and I knew he would never call on a high councilor or member of a bishopric; rather, he would select one who would least expect to be called. Sure enough, he called from a list he carried the name of an elders quorum president. Thunderstruck, the brother stammered as he asked, “Would you repeat the question, please?” The question was repeated, followed by an even longer pause. Suddenly the response came forth, “The worth of a human soul is its capacity to become as God.”

Brother Child closed his scripture, walked back to the pulpit, and, while passing me whispered, “A profound reply; a profound reply.”

My brother is a big role model for me, so when he decided he wanted to serve a mission, I decided I was also going to take action to strengthen my own testimony to help him prepare. I started reading my scriptures more and paying more attention in church. It’s helped me so much, and I’ve been able to gain a testimony. I now know the Church is true. Reading my scriptures every night has also made my days better and has made me want to read more and pray more to continue strengthening my testimony.
Chase G., Utah, USA

While serving as an assistant chaplain in the Maricopa County Jail system in Arizona, USA, I would visit and share a scripture and prayer with detainees who requested a Latter-day Saint chaplain. On one occasion a young woman made such a request.
I went to her area of the jail, which was behind several locked doors. The reception area had two cafeteria-style tables with a bench on each side and one desk with a guard. I gave the guard the request slip, slid onto one of the benches, and waited for the young woman.
I arose as she entered the reception area, greeted her, and suggested we sit at the table. She looked sad and unkempt and was on the verge of tears. As she discussed her situation, I considered what scripture I would share. I listened carefully to her concerns, and as she disclosed the difficulties she had had with various compulsive behaviors and poor choices, I thought of the perfect scripture to help her: Mosiah 3:19.
I opened the Book of Mormon to Mosiah 3:19, pushed it toward her, and asked her to read. She seemed a little disgruntled at first and began reading in a fast, singsong voice that seemed to express annoyance at being asked to read a scripture. As she finished the first phrase, “For the natural man is an enemy to God,” I interrupted to explain the meaning of “natural man.” When she understood the reference, she continued to read. Her voice gradually changed tone, and she slowed down as the words began to make sense to her.
When she started to read the list of childlike attributes of “a saint,” she slowed down even more. I could tell she was absorbing the meaning of each attribute listed in the verse. When she read “submissive, meek, humble, patient,” I began to feel the Spirit all around us. As she read the words “full of love, willing to submit,” I witnessed a change in her. Her face brightened and her attitude, tone of voice, and general manner seemed affected by the Spirit. I could see hope as she was taught by the Spirit what these words meant to her and how she should make the changes described in the scripture.
I said a prayer and then shook the young woman’s hand warmly. I left the jail on a spiritual high. I had never before seen such an immediate, powerful, magnificent effect from the scriptures. I knew Mosiah 3:19 because I have frequently encountered it while reading the scriptures, but never before had I understood the depth of the impact it could have on someone.

The lesson that most affected my life was a Primary lesson. It was so long ago that I don’t remember the teacher’s name, but the lesson penetrated my soul so deeply that I have never forgotten it.
When I was five years old I learned that God was my Heavenly Father and that Jesus Christ was my Savior and Redeemer. I learned that They love all people and that I could speak with God whenever I needed to because He always listens to my prayers. My faith increased, something within my heart grew, and little by little I gained a testimony of the Godhead. With the pure intent of a small child, I started praying with greater fervor, and I had many wonderful experiences with prayer.
I attended church for more than a year. Then other events made my going to church difficult. But I never stopped praying.
I was finally able to join the Church when I turned 20 years old. I was baptized with the sincere feelings of a child who says to her Father, “I’m coming back home.”
The seed was planted when I was a child and then germinated when I became an adult. I don’t know whether that teacher knows how much she helped me. But her lesson transformed my soul and kept my feet on the sure path, even while I had no contact with the Church for 14 years.
Estela Santana Leitão Cavalcante, Praia Grande Ward, Praia Grande Brazil Stake

In front of this vast worldwide audience and with some reservation, I make a personal confession. I do this as an introduction to a subject that has weighed heavily on my mind for some time. In 1955, after my freshman year of college, I spent the summer working at the newly opened Jackson Lake Lodge, located in Moran, Wyoming. My mode of transportation was a 14-year-old 1941 Hudson automobile that should have received its burial 10 years earlier. Among the car’s other identifying traits, the floorboards had rusted so badly that, if not for a piece of plywood, I could have literally dragged my feet on the highway. The positive is that unlike most 14-year-old cars in this time period, it used no oil—lots of water in the radiator, but no oil. I could never figure out where the water went and why the oil continually got thinner and thinner and clearer and clearer.
In preparation for the 185-mile (298-km) drive home at the end of the summer, I took the car to the only mechanic in Moran. After a quick analysis, the mechanic explained that the engine block was cracked and was leaking water into the oil. That explained the water and oil mystery. I wondered if I could get the water to leak into the gas tank; I would get better gasoline mileage.
Now the confession: after the miracle of arriving home, my father came out and happily greeted me. After a hug and a few pleasantries, he looked into the backseat of the car and saw three Jackson Lake Lodge towels—the kind you cannot buy. With a disappointed look he merely said, “I expected more of you.” I hadn’t thought that what I had done was all that wrong. To me these towels were but a symbol of a full summer’s work at a luxury hotel, a rite of passage. Nevertheless, by taking them I felt I had lost the trust and confidence of my father, and I was devastated.
The following weekend I adjusted the plywood floorboard in my car, filled the radiator with water, and began the 370-mile (595-km) round trip back to Jackson Lake Lodge to return three towels. My father never asked why I was returning to the lodge, and I never explained. It just didn’t need to be said. This was an expensive and painful lesson on honesty that has stayed with me throughout my life.

Pooja Prabhakar, 18, says she has received many blessings because of the gospel. “I have been brought into the light of truth, and I am happy that I can prepare myself to go back and live with my Heavenly Father.” She says that becoming a member of the Church has changed her life in many ways: “I begin each day with scripture study. I dress modestly. I use good language. I used to have a habit of making fun of others, but because of the Church I learned that I shouldn’t be doing that, so I stopped.”

She says she was 14 years old when she first attended Young Women. “I loved it,” she says. “I was very much reserved, but as I went on, I became jolly happy. I learned how to be a good daughter to my parents, a loving sister to my siblings, and a peacemaker at home. It’s been jolly nice, especially when I received my Personal Progress medallion.”

Now as she transitions into Relief Society, she has many pleasant memories—of singing songs at a residence for the elderly “to show our love;” of gaining a testimony that the Book of Mormon is true, that Joseph Smith was a prophet, and that President Thomas S. Monson is a living prophet; and of “learning more about the gospel every time I come to church.”

She tells of an experience she and her friends had one day on their way to school. “We saw an older woman who was trying to find her way to the chemist [pharmacy] to get a prescription filled, so we stopped and helped her.” They not only walked with her to her destination, but they went inside and made sure she was able to get what she needed.

“I’m glad to know God would let us help her,” Pooja says.