Gospel Story Finder

Nina Bazarskaya lives in Voronezh (about 400 kilometers south of Moscow). She works as a professor of English there. At a young age, she learned about God, but she never went to church and didn’t read the Bible until age 40.
Her husband, Oleg, a physicist, “was a thorough atheist,” she recalls, “and at the beginning was amused by my faith and prayers. …
“The year 1985 brought great changes into my spiritual life. I was able to go to church openly, fearing neither the KGB nor any unpleasantness at work. … Then came September 1991 and my first-ever international linguistics conference in Zvenigorod, near Moscow.”
During a conference session, Nina felt compelled to answer an American professor’s question about the current religious climate in Russia. Her sincere expression of gratitude for her ability to speak openly of religion touched many people in the room, including Dr. Robert W. Blair from Brigham Young University, who had posed the question. They soon became acquainted, and Nina invited him to Voronezh.
In the spring of 1992 Brother Blair visited Nina and Oleg and attended Orthodox Easter services with them. “I had been eagerly awaiting this event,” Nina writes. But “the service did not move me at all. … I returned home discouraged, convinced that my personal sins had not allowed me to experience any feelings of redemption.”
Then, in the summer of 1992, students from Brigham Young University arrived to teach English. Nina attended one of their Sunday meetings and was struck by the love and warmth she found there.
“I wanted to become like them, and I wanted my son, Aleksandr, to be with them. These were … people unlike any others I knew.”
At first she thought it would be possible to remain a member of the Orthodox Church while living the principles exemplified by her new LDS friends. But it soon became clear that she could not. She was torn between remaining with her traditional faith and joining the people she wanted to be like.
“This choice would not allow me a moment’s peace. All the while it seemed to me that by choosing the Mormons I would betray the faith of my fathers and that God would not forgive me for this apostasy. I prayed and asked God for an answer, and it came.
“One day … while I was sitting on the bank of a river gazing into the water and persistently thinking about the choice I had to make, I perceived a distinct voice that said I would not betray anyone, that I would simply progress further and believe more deeply.
“It’s difficult to describe the feelings I experienced upon hearing this voice: surprise, relief, happiness. … I was baptized on 15 December 1992, on the eve of the students’ flight back to America.
“My life changed. I became more tranquil, tolerant, and patient. Problems in our family life gradually diminished. For the first time in my life I understood the meaning of the words ‘quiet happiness,’ that is to say, harmony with oneself and peace of mind. During that year I became convinced that faith can grow, and much that I had doubted a year ago now seemed true and right.
“I don’t know what first influenced my husband, whether it was the example of my son and me or his interaction with the students, the mission president, or the missionaries, but in September 1993 he began to attend church regularly. … On January 15, 1994, he was baptized.”
Sister Bazarskaya has served in many callings since her baptism, including Relief Society president. Her husband became president of the Voronezh Branch. Their son, Aleksandr, served in the Latvia Riga Mission.

When Shawn was fifteen years old, he and a friend attended a national basketball training camp with 120 of the best high school players in the United States. A new friend talking with the two Utah players had some unusual misconceptions about Mormons.
“He asked me, ‘There are Mormons where you’re from, right? Do you see them? Do you live by them?’
“I answered him,” says Shawn. “‘Yes, we go to school with them. We see them all the time. Mormons are just like you and me. They are normal people. They look like us. They dress like us. They act like us. They talk like us.’
“He didn’t believe me until I said, ‘I can prove to you that Mormons are just normal people.’ He said, ‘How?’ I said, ‘We’re both Mormons.’ It really shook him up. A few days later, he started asking more about the Church and our ideals. He couldn’t believe we practiced chastity and that we wouldn’t drink alcohol or smoke. We had a very serious discussion for fifteen-year-olds.
“On that same trip was the first time I had ever had to tell the Joseph Smith story. I was asking myself, how much do I really know? I did not feel satisfied with myself at all explaining what I believe. I ended up bearing my testimony to him. That is the best missionary tool in the world. I just couldn’t find a way of explaining everything I knew. But I knew it was true. It was an excellent feeling to know something is really true.”

Leah dropped her schoolbag as soon as she walked into her room. She crawled onto her bed and squeezed her pillow to her stomach. She couldn’t believe what Ashley had said about her dad.
Leah’s dad had died by suicide a few months ago. She missed him a lot. She missed his famous meatballs. She missed how happy he made Mom. And she missed watching him play his guitar.
Sometimes when she was sad, Leah listened to his music. She also wrote him letters. She kept them in the memory box in her closet. It was the same box where she kept Dad’s glasses, his old baseball hat, and other things he liked. It was her way of remembering him.
But Leah didn’t feel like listening to music or writing letters now. She was sad, but also kind of angry. She squeezed the pillow tighter and started to cry.
Mom tapped gently on the door. “Are you OK?” Mom asked.
Leah sniffed and sat up. Mom sat down on the bed next to her.
“Ashley said something mean,” Leah said. “About Dad.” Tears kept falling from Leah’s eyes. “She said he can’t go to heaven because of how he died.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Mom said, pulling Leah into a hug. “That’s not true.” She wiped away some of Leah’s tears. “When your dad died, his brain was sick. Heavenly Father understands what Dad was feeling and why he was hurting.”
“He was a good man,” Leah said. “Heavenly Father loves him and is helping him, right?”
“Dad was a great man, Leah. He loved you so much.” Mom wiped away a tear of her own. “And Heavenly Father does love him. I know He does.”
“But how do you know?” Leah asked.
“Because I pray about it sometimes,” Mom said. “And even though I miss him so much it hurts, I also feel moments of peace.”
Leah nodded.
“I’m sorry Ashley said that to you,” Mom said. “I know Ashley is one of your best friends, and that was really hurtful for you.”
“Yeah.” Leah was quiet for a minute. Then she asked, “Can we say a prayer together?”
“Of course.”
Mom and Leah knelt down. Then Leah began to pray. “Heavenly Father, I really miss my dad. Is he OK? Please help me to feel better. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Leah unfolded her arms and gave Mom another hug. She felt a tiny bit better. She still felt really sad, but she didn’t feel worried about her dad anymore. She knew Heavenly Father loved him, and she knew that He loved her too.
“Thanks, Mom.” Leah took a deep breath. “Can you help me talk to Ashley?”
“That’s a great idea,” Mom said. “I don’t think she meant to hurt your feelings, but it would be good for her to know why what she said was hurtful. I’ll call her mom and see if we can have them come over tomorrow to talk.”
“OK,” said Leah. “I think I’m going to have some quiet time now.”
Mom nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Leah turned on her dad’s music. She closed her eyes and listened to the strumming of his guitar. Then she pulled out a piece of paper and started writing him a letter.

Sister Gong and I met Meb and Jenny by video during the COVID pandemic. (We met many wonderful couples and individuals by video during COVID, each prayerfully introduced by their stake president.)

Meb and Jenny humbly said concerns in their lives made them wonder if their temple marriage could be saved and, if so, how. They believed Jesus Christ’s Atonement and their covenant commitments could help them.

Imagine my joy when Meb and Jenny received new temple recommends and returned together to the house of the Lord. Later Meb almost died. What a blessing Meb and Jenny have restored covenant relationships with the Lord and each other and feel the ministering love of many around them.

Chris awoke to the sounds of excited voices. It was the first day of school, and everyone was bustling about, trying to get back into the familiar routine. He could hear his sister, Cathy, chattering to herself as she tried on one outfit after another. She was starting sixth grade and wanted to look just right.
Even though his eyes were closed, Chris knew from the banging of the dresser drawers that his older brother, Mike, was also getting dressed.
Both Cathy and Mike were excited about the new school year. Chris wasn’t, though, which was why he pretended to still be asleep. “Better hurry, kid,” Mike said as he gave Chris a nudge. “You’ll miss your bus if you don’t get going.”
“Maybe I want to miss my bus,” Chris sighed. “Then I wouldn’t have to go to first grade again.”
Mike gave his brother an understanding look, then bent over to mess up his hair a bit. “Don’t worry,” he said assuredly, “it will only hurt today.”
“What do you mean, ‘It will only hurt today’?” Chris asked as he forced himself out from under the covers.
“I mean that you’ll probably be embarrassed a little today, but by tomorrow, you’ll realize that it isn’t that big a deal to anyone but yourself.”
After Mike left the room, Chris pulled on his clothes. He remembered how the other students had teased him last year when he couldn’t read as well as they could. He especially remembered the teasing that he’d had to endure when they learned that he would have to repeat first grade. Alan Thomas had teased him the most. He wasn’t a good reader, either, and he’d often made fun of Chris during reading time so that the other children wouldn’t notice his own mistakes.
“Ready to go?” Cathy asked as she poked her head into the boys’ room. “Dad says to hurry down for family prayer.”
The family was already kneeling in a circle when Chris entered the living room. As he found a spot, he felt the love and comfort that prayer always gave him. It was Mike’s turn to pray. After pausing a moment to look at his little brother, he closed his eyes and began. It was a wonderful prayer. Chris liked to hear his older brother pray because he always seemed to say just the right things.
Mike mentioned Chris and asked Heavenly Father to comfort him. He also asked Heavenly Father to prompt the other children to be kind to him and to not tease him. After the prayer, the whole family, in turn, gave Chris a little hug.
It was hard walking into the first grade class again. Chris was glad that his mother had decided to take him that morning. As he opened the door to the classroom, he saw the familiar painted walls. Mrs. Sanders looked the same, too, and she seemed very happy to see him. “I’m glad that you came a bit early, Chris,” she began. “I need someone who can help me set up for the new students. I imagine that they’ll be a little confused.”
Suddenly the door opened again. “Wonderful!” Mrs. Sanders exclaimed. “Now I have two students to be my helpers this morning.”
Chris turned around to see whom Mrs. Sanders was speaking to. There, standing in the doorway and looking very uncomfortable, was Alan Thomas! Chris quickly turned in astonishment to his mom and caught her quick smile and wink.
The day went by quickly. Chris made friends with two of his new classmates, and he even asked Alan to join them in a game of foursquare during recess.
Chris found that he knew his alphabet better than anyone else and that he was one of the best readers in the class. He decided that he was going to like going to first grade again. Mike had been right—it really did hurt for only a little while.

“Slow down, Tobias,” cautioned Mrs. Thornock.
Obediently ten-year-old Toby ate more slowly. “Papa,” he said, “I’ve done my chores and homework. May I go see Saffron now?”
“Who is Saffron?”
“Well, Saffron is … uh … one of the canaries, Papa.”
“One of the canaries!” Papa shook his head. “What have I told you about getting attached to those birds? You know how hard it is on you when we have to choose one for the mine.”
It was 1843, and at thirty-six, Mr. Thornock was the youngest foreman ever to work for the Pennsylvania coal mine. Hard work and self-education had gained him the position, and he wanted to keep it. He went on, “You also know that the birds will die eventually because they are needed to monitor the safety of the air in the mine. In fact, we will need one on Monday when we open a new tunnel. Have you forgotten that they belong to the mine owner? Besides, the time that you spend with the canaries prevents you from studying. You had a test today. How did you do? Did you study?”
Toby hung his head as he answered, “I didn’t do very well, Papa.” Raising his head again, he continued hopefully, “But Saffron is different, Papa. Can’t I please keep her? What’s one bird? The mine owner doesn’t have to know.”
“Mr. Mallory certainly would know, Toby. You know that I have to account for all expenditures, including the money spent for the canaries and their upkeep. Besides, keeping even one bird is dishonest, and your education is more important than any bird. You must spend more time with your studies.”
“That’s right, Tobias,” Mother agreed. “When will you learn how lucky you are? It took Papa a long time to get Mr. Dawson to allow you to attend his school. How would you like to have to go down into the mine as other boys your age do and as your father did when he was younger? He had to work very hard just to become a foreman. Papa and I want more for you than that.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Come on, Son. Let your mother do the dishes, and we’ll go choose the bird for Monday.”
Father and son went out together, but Toby’s reluctance was undisguised. More than anything else, he hated choosing a canary for the safety test.
In the building where the canaries were kept, Papa moved among the cages, commenting about this one or that one. Toby was not really paying attention, and when his father finally stopped in front of one of the cages, Toby bumped into him. When the boy lifted his head, he was horrified to see that his father was in front of Saffron’s cage.
Toby poked his father’s arm and pointed to a bird farther down. “How about that one, Papa?”
Not looking at his son, Mr. Thornock said, “No, I want this one. That other one isn’t big enough yet.” Hearing Toby gasp, he turned and looked steadily into his son’s eyes. Then he looked again at the bird. “So this is Saffron. She’s a fine bird. I’m sorry, Son, but she’s the one that I’ve chosen, and you know that I don’t change my mind once I’ve chosen a bird.”
Feeling tears come to his eyes, Toby turned and ran. His father shook his head, tagged the cage, then went back to the house.
After receiving an “I don’t know” from his wife as to his son’s whereabouts, he decided that Toby was off crying somewhere and left it at that. Sometime later Toby came home and went to his room.
The next morning was Saturday, and Toby was up and gone before his father. Because Toby had already done his chores, his father went unconcernedly to the mine.
That evening at dinner Toby was quieter than usual, and Papa finally said, “Toby, this has gone on long enough. I’m as sorry as you that we have to use those gentle birds for testing, but the men must be protected. Now, what did you do today?”
“Nothing, Papa.”
“Nothing! You must have done something.”
“No, Papa. After my chores, I just went to the creek and watched the birds and fish.”
Toby would say no more, and Papa gave up, deciding that maybe it was best to let his son talk about it when he was ready.
Sunday passed quietly, but as Toby ate his breakfast Monday morning, Papa went to get Saffron to take with him to the mine. Soon he came back into the house. “Tobias,” his father said, trying to control his anger, “where is the canary?”
Toby was afraid to look up but managed to answer him clearly. “In my secret place, Papa. I had to take her. I couldn’t let you have her.”
Glancing at the clock on the mantle, Mr. Thornock said, “I don’t want you to be late for school, so this evening you and I will have a serious talk. For now, I’ll have to choose a different bird.”
“Yes, Papa,” Toby whispered and fled the house.
All day Toby wished that school would never end. When it did let out, he slowly started home. Mrs. Wickstead, the postmistress, stopped him and gave him a letter for his father. The letter took his mind off his problems until he read the return address. It was from Mr. Mallory, the mine owner! Toby hoped that it wasn’t bad news and that maybe, because of the letter, his father would forget about Saffron.
“Well, that does it,” his father said that evening when he read the letter. “Tobias, you must bring the bird back. Mr. Mallory will be here in a few days to check on things. He says that expenses are too high and that I must cut back. I have to account for everything—even the canaries and their food. He says that if I can’t, I’ll no longer be a foreman.”
“Please, Papa. I can’t. Couldn’t you say that the bird died?”
His mother was shocked. “Tobias! You know that your father doesn’t lie.”
“Tobias, get the bird.”
“No, Papa. You can’t make me.” Tears streamed down Toby’s cheeks.
“If I can’t get through to you one way, it’ll have to be through another. Tomorrow you won’t go to school; you’ll go to the mine with me instead.”
Eyes wide and wet, Toby turned to his mother, who only lowered her eyes. The boy swallowed hard and looked again at his father. “Yes, Papa.”
Down in the mine the next morning Mr. Thornock introduced Toby to a few of the miners. He asked one of them, Mark Grayson, to show Toby around.
Mark took Toby to the newly opened tunnel and explained what Toby already knew—that when the tunnels were opened, sometimes there were poisonous gases that could kill because, having no odor, they were undetectable. “The birds are affected by the gas before we are,” Mark explained. “If the birds die, we have enough time to get everyone away so that the gas can thin out and mix with the less harmful air until it is safe to breathe. I like those birds, but I’d rather have a dead bird than be dead myself.”
That evening as Toby walked home with Papa, his thoughts were in a turmoil. He pictured Saffron down in the mine, dead from the gases. Then he imagined his father and all the miners dead in the mine. What if it actually happened! Toby loved his father very much.
After supper Toby said to his father. “Papa, I’ve put Saffron back with the other birds. And from now on I’m going to work really hard in school because I’ve decided that I want to be a scientist. I’m going to find a way so that we won’t have to use canaries.”
His father looked at him, opened his arms, and, when Toby went into them, hugged him tightly.

I know that Heavenly Father answers prayers. When my family lived in Germany, we went on a Volksmarch in our village. Volksmarch is where friends and neighbors enjoy time with each other by going on a nature walk together. My parents said that I could walk ahead of the group with one of my friends, and we started out on the long trail.
After a few minutes I could not see anyone in my family. I told my friend that I was going to stay on the trail and wait for them. Soon I could no longer see my friend or her family, and my parents still hadn’t come. I was all alone in the forest, and I felt scared. I decided to say a prayer that someone would find me.
In another part of the forest, my dad felt the Holy Ghost telling him, “Go look for your son.” He felt how much I needed him, so he turned right around and told my mom that he was going to look for me. A few minutes later my dad came running up the trail where I was waiting and found me. I was so glad to see my dad! When he told me about having a strong feeling that I needed help, I knew that Heavenly Father had answered my prayer.
I am so glad to know that wherever I am, I can talk to Heavenly Father. He will help me find my way.

One of the matters that had been discussed in the stake welfare meeting was how the needs of ward members could be relayed to stake leaders if telephone communications were not functioning. Don McNeece, the high priests group leader in Coalinga and a ham radio operator, had been designated as the primary communication link with stake leaders in Hanford, 45 miles away. The evening of the earthquake, he was able to get the information to stake president Gerald Thompson that most members had been accounted for and, while many suffered extensive property damage, there were no deaths or injuries.
Early the next morning President Thompson visited Coalinga to help ward leaders assess the damage and determine how the stake could help.
The greatest immediate need, especially for the elderly, was for help in getting their homes back in order. For 79-year-old Veda Cooper, who was crippled from a bone disease, the experience was traumatic, and the love and service offered by ward and stake members were badly needed.
“I was standing in the kitchen doorway when everything started falling down,” she explained. “I couldn’t get backward and I couldn’t get forward. It felt like the house was going to come tumbling down. But I couldn’t get out and run. I’m crippled. Everything that could fall fell. Jams and jellies, pickles, clothes, suitcases, goblets and glasses, a whole set of china for 12—everything was all mixed together. Water was squirting all over the bathroom.
“Later when I thought about all the mess I started feeling sorry for myself. I thought, now look, I’m not afraid to work. And it’s all right for the Lord to take my husband, and it’s all right to have my three sons so far away. But I felt like it was just adding insult to injury to be crippled and alone and then to have a mess like this. The tears were running down, and I thought, I’ll be all summer getting this mess picked up.
“Then here came somebody knocking on the door, somebody from Hanford to help me clean up, and I didn’t feel sorry anymore. But for a little while I thought this is too much—just too much—until help came. Then in no time they had the water turned off, and the plumbing fixed, and the mess cleaned up, and I was just doing fine.”
Shari Vanlandingham, 14, and a convert of eight months, said she feels that being a member of the Church makes a big difference during a time of calamity. “I don’t know what we would do if we didn’t have all this help. After the quake they had a meeting at the Church and asked what everybody needed. Whatever you needed, they would help you get. Everybody was helping everybody.”
Janel Woolsey, 14, agreed. “The Church made a lot of difference. The evening of the quake the church was opened for anybody who needed food or a place to sleep. People just came by to see if they could help.”
The meetinghouse quickly became a center for coordinating relief efforts. Several families whose homes were unsafe to live in set up tents and trailers in the parking lot. The bulletin board in the foyer was divided into headings—Carpentry, Plumbing, Brickwork, etc.—with listings of those who needed help in each area. Local radio stations announced that anyone who needed help cleaning up could contact the LDS church.
The Church organization was able to respond quickly to individual needs largely because of preparations that had been made before the earthquake. Even before the Tuesday planning meeting in Hanford, ward leaders had compiled a list of supplies that ward members could provide in the event of a disaster. They knew who had campers, tents, cooking equipment, and first-aid supplies. They knew what members were trained in medical, plumbing, and construction skills. And members of the ward welfare committee had been assigned specific responsibilities in the event of a disaster—communications, child care, food preparation, sanitation, emotional problems, etc.
While most members had plenty of food, cooking it with the power off was a problem. And since everyone was so busy trying to clean up their homes, the evening meals provided by different wards in the stake were extremely welcome. For two weeks after the quake, meals were prepared by the Relief Society sisters in the stake and transported over long distances to Coalinga.
Even more important than the food was the emotional support and closeness derived from ward and stake members coming together to talk and share concerns. “Coalinga is about the farthest ward from the stake center,” explained Sister Millie Netherton. “We used to see these people at meetings and work with them, but we didn’t really know them very well. Now we fall into each other’s arms we’re so glad to see each other.”
About a month before the earthquake, the Relief Society had shown a film to the ward about the 1971 San Fernando earthquake. As a result of that film, many families had taken their own precautions.
James and Shirley Sirman had prepared small emergency backpacks for their whole family. The packs contained identification cards (in case the children got separated), a three-day supply of food, a change of clothing, flashlights, water purification tablets, and other emergency supplies. Although their children are young (ages 3 through 9), they knew the places in their house that are safest in an earthquake, and they knew where in the yard to meet after the quake.
The Fowkes family had been having emergency drills during family home evenings for several years. This training helped them instinctively do the right things when the quake hit. Nathan, 13, who was studying in the library, immediately dove under a table that protected him from being hit by a tall cabinet of books. His younger brother and sister ducked under the kitchen table at home and missed being hit by falling china. just three weeks before the quake, Sister Fowkes had shown her son Kendall, 9, how to turn off the gas, electricity, and water in the house, so he could earn a Cub Scout achievement. This knowledge saved the family from a flooded basement, since the quake caused a water pipe to break.
Ten years earlier the Fowkes had made some other preparations. Following two consecutive dreams about being in an earthquake, Sister Fowkes insisted that her husband string wire in front of the shelves in their fruit room before they left on vacation. Eventually their foresight paid off. While they had over 200 bottles stacked seven shelves high, none were broken.
But perhaps even more important to the Latter-day Saints in Coalinga than the disaster plans, the emergency supplies, and the stored food were the reserves of faith, testimony, and gospel knowledge that grow naturally when people are obedient to the Lord and try to follow the counsel of his leaders—reserves that can turn a calamity into a chance for spiritual growth.
A lot of members in Coalinga would agree with President Joseph F. Smith’s observation that the Lord allows natural calamities “for the good of his children, to quicken their devotion to others, and to bring out their better natures, that they may love and serve him” (Gospel Doctrine, Deseret Book, 1919, p. 55). It’s not hard to find examples in Coalinga these days of people’s “devotion to others” or to see evidence of their “better natures.”
Brother Lawrence Richie, retired for ten years and living alone since his wife’s death, had his home paid for. The quake caused severe structural damage, requiring him to move into a trailer until the house could be made safe. But none of this has dampened his good spirits. “We were flooded out one time, and we were burned out one time. Now we’ve been shook out. That’s just the way it goes,” he added good naturedly. And he didn’t find it hard to see a positive side to these experiences. “You know how people draw apart? When there’s a disaster they unite. They get together, and they work together. When that quake hit, the town was just like this,” he said, clasping his palms together.
Fifteen-year-old Tracy Boucher agreed. “Everybody worked together. All my neighbors helped us out, and we helped them out. Before, hardly anyone helped each other, but in this situation everyone was helping.”
Many members found that the earthquake brought their priorities into much sharper focus. “I always take it for granted that the world is just gonna keep going and nothing is going to happen while I’m alive,” Denise explained. “So when it hit I thought, this is the end of the world. Oh man, I need to repent.”
“I realized that in a few minutes you could lose everything—your whole house and everything in it—but you’re still the same person,” said Dan McNeece, 18. “You get worried about all your stuff, but if you really think about it, it’s just here, and after you die you’re not going to have it. I think more now about the things that really matter.”
There are others, too, who are thinking more now about the things that really matter. “My wife had gone through I don’t know how many houses and helped clean up,” explained Brother Roy Vanlandingham. “And after she looked at all that broken fine china and cut glass, we realized what Christ meant when he said not to store up your treasures on earth. No matter what you’ve got, it can be taken away from you in less than 32 seconds. Your family is the only thing that matters. During the aftershocks, we sat in the middle of the street and watched our house rock three feet in each direction. But once I had found out my family was all right the panic was over.”
“I was pretty weak in the Church, and I wasn’t planning on going on a mission,” said Cary Scherer, a 19-year-old college student. “But because of this I feel I need to straighten out my life and get closer to the Lord, because when these kinds of things happen I’m going to need his help.”
Sister Netherton is confident that her family is receiving the Lord’s help. With her home destroyed and the family’s food storage inaccessible in the basement, she is full of faith in the Lord. “My husband is two years from retiring, and we have three teenagers. I don’t know how we can start over this late in life. But I feel so calm. The Lord says he is bound when we do what he commands us to do—not that the Church is going to come in and take over—but we’re going to be able to manage. The gospel gives total purpose to life and helps you put value on the things that are of most worth. Material things are just not important. This is what’s comforting us—the gospel—so there’s no fear.”

If you can’t talk, can you still have a friend? Hayden Rushton has autism, which is a brain development disorder. It is very hard for him to understand and talk with others. But he has dozens of friends. They are the children in his Primary.
When Hayden first went to Primary, he cried and didn’t talk at all. He lives with his grandparents, and his grandmother had to stay with him to help him in Primary. Then his Primary leaders had an idea about how to help Hayden. And every child in Primary would get to help too.
Now Hayden goes to a class with his own teacher. The Primary children take turns going to Hayden’s class. Two older children go during senior sharing time, and two younger children go during junior sharing time. They look at books with Hayden and help him learn to do new things. They also help him learn how to get along with friends.
One of the older boys drew a picture of Hayden’s favorite animated character. Hayden loved it! One five-year-old friend has been very patient as he shows Hayden how to use things. All of the children try to be kind and helpful.
Thanks to the Primary children, Hayden has learned a lot. And thanks to them, Hayden doesn’t have just one friend—he has a whole Primary full of them!

Two hundred years ago, the evenings of September 21 and 23, 1823, formed an important turning point in the unfolding Restoration. On the first evening, an angel, sent from the presence of God, visited Joseph Smith, bringing instructions that would guide him over the next several years. On the later evening, Joseph related the experiences to his family, marking the beginning of his many testimonies about his experiences. Understanding these events from the past can help us be more steadfast disciples of Jesus Christ today.
On the evening of September 21, 1823, an angel named Moroni visited 17-year-old Joseph Smith three times throughout the night. The following morning, Moroni appeared a fourth time and guided Joseph to a nearby hill. When Joseph returned home that evening, he was excited and exhausted. He started to relate his experiences, but his family noticed he was tired, so they prepared to gather the next evening when they could “all sit down, and listen to [Joseph].”1
On September 23, Joseph warned his whole family—father, mother, five brothers, and three sisters—that the time had not yet come to share the message with the world, but he could tell them “the great and glorious things which God had manifested to him.”2

Just before the San Salvador El Salvador Temple was dedicated, my family and I decided to serve at the open house and help those who were not members become acquainted with the gospel of Jesus Christ as they visited the temple. I was assigned to be a guide and speak with people about each room in the temple, the sacred covenants we make there, and how our lives change when we keep those covenants.
My shift came, and I started my tour. I had just barely gone out of the room when someone requested an additional guide since a large group had just arrived. I was told to go back to the greeting room to have another group assigned to me.
When I reached the room, I was again asked to change my assignment and show a video to people who were just arriving at the temple. I felt sad that I wasn’t able to speak with people and tell them about the temple.
About half an hour later, a group from the United States arrived who didn’t speak any Spanish. Several volunteers were running around looking for someone who spoke English and could guide this group. That’s when I understood that the Lord sends us where He needs us, not necessarily where we want to be. I was the only one who knew how to use the video and give the words of welcome in English. The Americans were glad and when they were leaving, they thanked me for receiving them so warmly.
At the end of the day, I felt thankful to the Lord for showing me that when we do things the way He prompts us, we will feel satisfied with our work.
Erick A., El Salvador

Sitting on the stand of the St. George (Utah) Tabernacle, waiting for her performance to begin, Sheena Rosander couldn’t help remembering the year before when she had been waiting to perform at a high school talent show.
“It was one of the only times I really had the jitters before a performance,” says Sheena. “I followed a rock group and knew immediately that the classical song I loved to play on the piano wasn’t really what kids wanted to hear. I depend so much on the Spirit to help me play, and that Spirit just wasn’t there.”
But this night, things were different. Thankfully, the Spirit was in abundance as her six functioning fingers flew over the keyboard of the grand piano creating music, the kind that brings a lump to the throat.
Sheena Rosander, 18, from Hurricane, Utah, was born with what some people consider a disability. But to Sheena, having only a partial thumb and no fingers on her left hand is a gift. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have all 10 fingers, like how much easier keyboarding would be,” says Sheena. “But I usually just find a way to go around it. My mom wanted me to peel potatoes, and I was really struggling with that potato peeler. So I decided when I have my own family I’ll just have baked potatoes. There’s always a way to do things.”
And that’s pretty much how Sheena has been able to enjoy her favorite activities, like playing and teaching tennis, playing the violin, teaching piano lessons, and competing at performing-arts festivals.
In fact, she’s used her good attitude as a springboard to propel her into positive social situations. On her first day of kindergarten, when Sheena proudly displayed her hand at “show and tell,” one child told her it looked like a Cabbage Patch doll’s hand. Delighted, she added several Cabbage Patch dolls to her already thriving collection. Her favorite had red hair and blue eyes, just like Sheena.
That kind of confidence comes naturally. Even before she was born, her mother, Toni, decided all her children would learn to play piano. Sheena began lessons at age five.
“She was determined to play the piano,” recalls her teacher, Tammy Drake. “Her hand was never an obstacle. She would compensate with her right hand to achieve a full sound. Then one day, she began playing with her left hand, using her thumb and pinky stub. Sheena has shown all of us a new kind of courage and determination. Some listeners never even know about her hand. She plays beautifully.”
But piano wasn’t Sheena’s only interest. She developed a love for sports, particularly basketball. Just before ninth-grade tryouts, however, Sheena experienced what she would term the greatest challenge of her life so far. She developed immune thrombocytopenic purpura, or ITP, a blood disorder which causes bleeding under the skin. Her disease prevented her from playing basketball since even an accidental bump on her head could cause a major brain hemorrhage.
After a year of transfusions, cortisone, and other medications, Sheena faced the decision of whether or not to have her spleen removed. As she had done since she was a small girl, Sheena turned to the Lord in prayer for a confirmation of her decision. After her surgery, she continued to worry. What if the ITP returned and kept her from her normal activities?
“I kept asking Heavenly Father if I was done with it,” she says, “but I never felt like I was getting an answer. Then my friend Liesel Bennion and I went to EFY [Especially for Youth] at BYU—Idaho. I had a wonderful counselor there who gave a devotional about the woman who had suffered with an issue of blood for 12 years and touched the hem of the Savior’s garment. When she read the words, ‘Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace’ (Luke 8:48) and sang a song called ‘Close Enough to Touch,’ my heart started pounding and tears sprang to my eyes. I knew at that moment I was done with the ITP. In a way I felt I also had touched the Savior’s hem by exercising faith in having the surgery.”
Not long after, the two friends decided to enter the Miss Hurricane pageant. This was not new to Sheena. She had tried out the previous year and had won the talent award but bombed the interview. So, in her typical style, she practiced with anyone who would interview her and tried out again. “I was so excited when I got first attendant, with talent and interview awards. And I was so happy for Leisel to be chosen queen. We’ve had a lot of fun together.”

Last year, my Primary teacher asked us to pray for a girl in our class who hadn’t come to church. I decided to remember her in my personal prayers too. I prayed for her all year, even though I didn’t know her. I reminded my family to include her during family prayer too. I was so happy because that friend came to Primary on Christmas Sunday! She is now my friend and comes to church sometimes. I know Heavenly Father heard those prayers.
Campbell D., age 5, California, USA

Some of those involved in the project were able to submit names for family members who had researched names but had not submitted them for temple work. For Amanda Gardner of the Pioneer Ward, researching names helped draw her closer to family members. She helped her grandparents, Allen and Helga Willie, submit names they had been researching for 30 years. Her other grandfather, Sterling Gardner, helped her friend research names. Amanda says, “One of my good friends had no names to submit, so she came to my grandpa and he helped her find about 175 names. At first she was like, ‘Oh, they’re just names on paper.’ But I realized they’re not just names on paper; they’re family members.”

Cleaning up after a hurricane sounded like it might be fun. That’s what the Boy Scouts of Troop 304 in the Athens Georgia First and Second wards thought when they heard about the hurricane hitting the coast of their neighboring state, South Carolina.
Jacob Keith decided to take on the assistance effort as an Eagle project. At first Jacob was a little hesitant. He said, “I’m not much for calling people I don’t know, but I got used to it after a while. I was surprised how helpful people were. When I called the Scouts, I didn’t think they would want to spend their whole weekend in South Carolina working. But they said yes.”
The group ended up unloading semitrailers into a warehouse. When the boxes were light, they made a game out of it. When the goods were heavy, like the load of doors they had to unload, they just buckled down and got the job done.
The most impressive thing was that the project was planned and carried out completely by the Scouts themselves. Scoutmaster Scott Johnson said, “The relief team thought I was one of the boys. They spoke on the phone to Jacob, so they went to him to make decisions and organize the effort.”
The troop spent two weekends helping distribute relief goods.

Gwen lived in sunny South Africa with her parents and four younger sisters. Each week she and her family traveled a long distance to attend their meetings. They rode part of the way on a double-decker bus until they reached the Mowbray station. Then they walked several blocks up Grove Road to the chapel.
Gwen especially enjoyed the beautiful scenery on Sunday mornings as the family walked along together under the shade of the huge gum trees. Towering above the road like a big giant lifting his head to the blue sky was Devil’s Peak. In September when it was spring, the hills were alive with thousands of colorful proteas, daisies, crassulas, and other wild flowers.
Gwen was grateful for the beautiful world in which she lived. And because she was always happy, everyone enjoyed her special smile.
One day Gwen did not feel like smiling. That day she could not help but cry because she had severe pains in her head, her back continually ached, and she had a high fever. Her parents immediately called their family doctor.
After his examination, the doctor reported that all of Gwen’s symptoms—especially the rigid condition developing in her back—indicated she had meningitis. He suggested that a specialist be called in to consult with him.
Her parents agreed to have the specialist come, but as soon as the family doctor left, they called “Cumorah,” the mission home, and asked LeRoy H. Duncan, who was mission president at the time, to come with another elder and administer to Gwen.
When these brethren arrived, Gwen was so ill that she could not smile. President Duncan and his companion placed their hands on the girl’s feverish forehead and gave her a blessing, praying that she would be made well if it were according to Heavenly Father’s will.
Even before the elders left, Gwen began to feel better. By the time their family doctor returned with the specialist, she seemed almost well. After another examination, the specialist turned to the family doctor and said, “Sir, you must have been unduly alarmed. This child has no symptom whatever of meningitis. All she needs is a few days of rest.”
Although neither doctor could understand the great change in Gwen, she and her family knew they had all been blessed through the power of the priesthood. And once again Gwen’s face was radiant with the happy smile that everyone loved!

Adah looked up at the indoor playground. The multicolored tunnels wound upward toward the ceiling. Adah couldn’t wait to jump into the tunnels and slide and climb with the other children.
Her sister Sarah couldn’t either. She ran toward the playground without taking off her shoes.
“Wait, Sarah!” Mom called. “Don’t forget to take off your shoes.”
Adah and Sarah put their shoes in the shoe cubby, then hurried toward the playground.
They played in the tunnels until all the other children had left. “Girls, time to go!” Adah heard Mom call. She slid down the slide one last time and ran to the shoe cubby.
Adah put on her shoes, but then she noticed that Sarah’s shoes weren’t in the cubby. Where were they? Her family looked all over the playground but couldn’t find them.
Finally Dad said, “Somebody must have taken them.” He picked up Sarah and carried her to the car.
“I want my shoes!” Sarah cried.
Adah wanted to cry too. She couldn’t believe someone had stolen Sarah’s shoes! She wondered which one of the people there had taken the shoes. “Maybe it was the girl with pigtails,” she said. “Or that girl who pushed me down the slide!”
“We don’t know who did it, and we need to be careful about accusing others,” Mom said. “Heavenly Father wants us to think kind things about other people.”
The whole night seemed ruined as they drove home and Adah went to her room. How could she think kind thoughts about the person who stole her sister’s shoes? She whispered a prayer and asked Heavenly Father to help her. But she still felt angry inside. She plopped down on her bed with a sigh.
She landed on something hard. “Ouch!” It was her favorite pink pony. Adah tossed the pony across the room and it landed under the dresser. Then she remembered the pony had been lost for a week until she found it at her friend Meri’s house. She didn’t want to lose it again, so she knelt down and reached under the dresser.
Adah pulled out two pink ponies that looked exactly the same. She looked at them in surprise. Her pony had been under the dresser the whole time—she had taken Meri’s pony by mistake! Adah felt bad that she had taken Meri’s pony by accident. And then she had an idea.
“Mom!” she called, running to the kitchen. “I think I know what happened to Sarah’s shoes. I bet somebody had shoes just like Sarah’s at home, and she thought Sarah’s shoes were her shoes, so she took them by mistake. She didn’t mean to steal after all!”
“What a good thought,” Mom said with a smile. Adah smiled too.
The next day, Mom took Sarah to buy new shoes. Adah went with them. They stopped at Meri’s so Adah could give back the pony.
“I took this by mistake,” Adah told her friend. “I thought it was mine. I’m sorry.”
Adah’s mom told Meri’s mom that they were going to buy shoes for Sarah. Meri’s mom went downstairs and came back with two pairs of shoes that looked almost new.
“These are Meri’s old shoes that don’t fit her anymore,” she said. “Why don’t you take them for Sarah?”
Sarah laughed and danced in her new shoes. Adah was glad she had found a way to think kindly about the person who took Sarah’s shoes.

As a young teenager, David continued to work on the farm and later attended the University of Utah, graduating in 1897. During his years at college he played football, played piano for a dance band, and was elected president of his senior class. He had made his professional plans as graduation drew near, but shortly before receiving his diploma he received a letter from President Wilford Woodruff, calling him to serve a mission in Great Britain. It was a major decision—and he struggled with it, as must many young men and women today. He decided to set aside his plans and accept the call.
His first months in the Scottish conference, where his father had served years earlier, were not easy, as is the case for many missionaries. He describes this discouraging time and its resultant renewal of his commitment to the Lord in these words:
“I was homesick and a little discouraged on this day. …
“I had just left school. I loved school and I loved young people. I loved youth. And then to go over there and feel … [people’s] prejudice [against the Church] gave me the blues.
“As [my companion and I] were coming back into town, I saw on my right an unfinished dwelling, over the front door of which was a stone on which there was a carving. That was most unusual, so I said to Elder Johnston, ‘I’m going to see what that is.’ I was half way up the graveled walk when there came to my eyesight a striking motto as follows, carved in stone: ‘Whate’er Thou Art, Act Well Thy Part.’
“I repeated it to Elder Johnston as we walked in to town to find a place for our lodgings before we began our work. We walked quietly, but I said to myself, or the Spirit within me, ‘You are a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. More than that, you are here as a representative of the Lord Jesus Christ. You accepted the responsibility as a representative of the Church.’ …
“That afternoon, by the time we found our lodgings, I accepted the message given to me on that stone, and from that moment we tried to do our part as missionaries in Scotland.”

“Prairie gum!” exclaimed Roxanna. “Would you like to go out and get some prairie gum?” “Oh, yes,” Rachel said. She had just walked the few kilometers between her soddy—a home built of grass, or sod—and Roxanna’s, but her six-year-old legs were eager to go on if the reward was prairie gum, a sticky substance that gathered on the broken tops of the tall rosinweeds dotting the land.
In the spring, the weed blossomed like a little yellow sunflower, but today it was fall, and the rosinweed, like everything on the prairie, was brown and dry. The little wildflowers, which had once added splashes of red, orange, and purple to the sea of grass, were all gone.
The girls walked hand in hand through the dry grass. They felt lucky to live so close to each other; most families on the prairie did not have neighbors nearby. The golden land was vast, and homes were spread out. As Rachel and Roxanna walked, they could not even see another soddy.
They trotted from weed to weed, their long braids dancing behind them. Picking off a bit of the colorless gum here and a bit there, they tried to gather enough of it to make a chewy lump. They were so focused on spotting the next rosinweed and scraping off its gum they didn’t realize they had walked another kilometer. When a faint cry rang out, the two best friends froze.
“Listen! What is that?” Rachel’s brown eyes widened with fear. Both girls strained to make out the sound. Then in the distance they saw Roxanna’s father running toward them. “It’s your father! He wants us to do something. What is it, Roxanna? Can you hear?” Rachel asked, frightened.
“Run! Run! Run!” Roxanna’s father was yelling frantically. “Run to the breaking!” Roxanna quickly spotted the place where her father had turned over the prairie sod with the breaking-up plow. Land on the prairie could not be cultivated the first year; it had to be broken up, then left to lie and rot. During the fall and winter, the tough grass roots rotted away so a common plow could get through them. Roxanna grabbed Rachel’s hand and began running the half kilometer to the breaking. They stumbled through the tall, dry prairie grass.
“Run to the breaking! Run! Run!” Roxanna and Rachel could see the blur of a blue shirt as Roxanna’s father waved his arms desperately. “Run! Run!” His frantic voice was still faint, but the words were distinct.
“Roxanna, what is it? What’s the matter?” Rachel asked between frenzied breaths.
“I don’t know,” Roxanna gasped. Neither girl stopped running. Their parents had taught them to obey immediately, so they stumbled on as fast as their little legs could carry them.
The prairie grass felt like claws snatching at them again and again, trying to trip them. Roxanna stepped into a gopher hole, but Rachel pulled her up. Rachel’s lungs ached, and she felt she did not have another breath in her, but she kept going.
At last they reached the edge of the breaking. Roxanna’s father came running up from the opposite direction. Seizing both girls in his arms, he dragged them into the middle of the bare black clearing.
“Get down!” he gasped, throwing his body over theirs as protection. The black soil was hard and scratched the girls’ faces.
“What is it?” Rachel panted.
A crisp, crackling sound was her answer. She turned her head to see large flames sweeping across the prairie. The orange fire swiftly swallowed up the dry grass and weeds in its path, including where Rachel and Roxanna had stood just minutes before! The flames shot high into the sky, sizzling like wicked laughter. The air over them grew thick with gray smoke and flying red cinders. Roxanna’s eyes and lungs burned from the smoke. Rachel thought her skin would melt from the intense heat that enveloped them.
“Hold on, girls,” Roxanna’s father urged.
And then the danger was over. The fire moved swiftly down the prairie, leaving Rachel, Roxanna, and Roxanna’s father untouched because there was no grass around them to burn. They sat up and stared at the moving fire. Rachel wiped the sweat and dirt from her face with the back of her hand. Roxanna let out a big sigh of relief.
“That was close,” Roxanna’s father gasped, “but we made it!” He looked back to see a stretch of black extending down the prairie, marking the fire’s path. The ground around the breaking was black and still sizzling. He inhaled deeply. “We made it because you quickly obeyed my shouts.” Then he bowed his head and gave thanks to Heavenly Father that the girls had been obedient and that none of them had been hurt by the fire.

When I came out as bisexual a few years ago, I felt like I was facing an ultimatum: stay “true” to my sexual orientation and leave the Church (according to the world’s view) or deny my experience and stay faithful.
I wanted to align with Heavenly Father’s will. However, as I grew up, I also heard LGBT issues in and out of the Church talked about with negative feelings and harsh judgments, so I felt conflicted. I always wondered: How could I be both a member of the Church of Jesus Christ and experience same-sex attraction?
After years of trying to ignore my feelings, I couldn’t deny my experiences. But I didn’t know where that left me as a disciple of Christ. I grappled with this question: If God exists and loves me and has a plan for me, and if His plan of happiness involves marriage between a man and a woman only, then why am I attracted to women and men?
I was so confused.
During this time of unanswered questions, friends outside of the Church told me I should abandon my faith to “follow my heart.” I considered this at times—I already felt like I didn’t belong at church with all my questions. My family and loved ones showed love and support when I told them about my experiences, but I still felt so much uncertainty about what to do.
There were moments throughout this challenging time when I wondered if I really was one of Heavenly Father’s children, if He loved me, and if I had a place in the gospel of Jesus Christ.
As I sought Him more diligently than ever, I eventually did feel His love for me. I looked back at spiritual times in life, like my baptism day, moments in the temple, and other spiritual experiences. I couldn’t deny Heavenly Father’s love for me. I could feel that He is fully aware of my circumstances and that no matter what I am experiencing in mortality, I have a divine nature.