Gospel Story Finder

I was 24 years old when I first met Julio Martínez. At the time, I had great interest in meeting someone who could explain the purpose of life to me and help me understand why I felt such a void in my soul. Julio, age 87, was just such a person. He enjoyed extraordinary physical and mental health. He loved nature and was always in a wonderfully good humor. We spent many summer afternoons talking, and I came to admire him and his ideas. A philosopher who practiced what he taught, he became my mentor.
One day, two and a half years after we met, Julio told me he had been baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I was dismayed. How could a man as wise and experienced as he was make such a decision? I respected him, however, so I respected his choice. We continued to visit frequently, but I would turn the conversation to other matters whenever he began to talk about the Church.
In time I began to notice some changes in Julio. His eyes had a new glow, and he became kinder, less critical, and more humble. I didn’t understand what was prompting the changes, and I was afraid of losing the good friendship we already had. But still I remained unresponsive to his invitations to learn more about his church.
And so I ignored the Lord as He called to me. I believe He calls to each of us, often through other people, but we hear only if we have ears to hear—and only if we open our hearts. The Lord called to me several times, but my heart was closed.
Then on 20 August 1998, at Julio’s urging, I met with some of the Lord’s missionaries, Elders Martínez, Boyle, and Winward. For the first time, I recognized the voice that had been calling to me. The Spirit bore such witness that my heart was softened and I was humbled. With tears flowing down my cheeks, I asked myself over and over, How is it possible for the Savior to love us so deeply? How did He come to do what He did for us, for me?
Nine days later I was baptized. Thanks to Julio, my friend, I now know the love Jesus Christ has for us and the fellowship that is found in His Church. Julio became like a grandfather to me, and I rejoice to know that because of our Lord’s grace I found His eternal truth.

He was introduced by a friend to the English language classes the missionaries presented. That led to the discussions and an invitation to attend Church.
“I attended the investigators’ class. What I heard there made little sense to me at first. I was an active Buddhist in a family of active Buddhists. But the name of Jesus touched my heart. I remember as a boy hearing Protestant missionaries talk of Jesus and Christianity. My parents and relatives did not like Christians and they said harsh things about them and about Jesus. I couldn’t help but wonder about this man Jesus. What happened to him? Why did my family talk only of bad things about him?
“So when the missionaries talked to me of Jesus, I decided to invite them to my cousin’s home where I was living while going to school. He and his family listened to some of the discussions, but then stopped.
“I continued with the discussions and with attending church, and I finally gained a testimony.
“I was baptized when I was eighteen years old.

Returning again to Karl G. Maeser, on one occasion he was leading a party of young missionaries across the Alps. As they slowly ascended the steep slope, he looked back and saw a row of sticks thrust into the glacial snow to mark the one safe path across the otherwise treacherous mountains.

Something about those sticks impressed him, and halting the company of missionaries he gestured toward them and said, “Brethren, there stands the priesthood. They are just common sticks like the rest of us—some of them may even seem to be a little crooked, but the position they hold makes them what they are. If we step aside from the path they mark, we are lost.”

Another pioneer game was last couple out. Caroline was chosen to be the leader, and the other children each chose a partner. They lined up side by side behind Caroline. Henry and Charles were partners, and they were the last couple lined up behind Caroline. When Caroline yelled, “Last couple out!” Henry and Charles separated. Henry ran forward along the right side of the line, and Charles along the left side. The two boys tried to clasp hands before Caroline tagged either of them. But Caroline touched Charles, thus becoming his partner. They took their place at the front of the line behind Henry, the new leader.

Cami felt her mother’s arm around her shoulders. As she wiped away more tears, she couldn’t help but notice how beautiful the cemetery was. The warmth of the sun felt good on her swollen eyes and calmed her as people came across the grass to hug her and her family once more.
“Give yourself time, Cami,” Sister Bowen, her Primary teacher, said. “These things take time.”
Cami nodded without really listening. She was thinking about how strangely peaceful it was here. It was like those pictures of Easter morning she had seen in Primary—the beautiful flowers, the smell of the lilac bushes, the breeze in her hair. It was very different from the hospital room where she had watched her father take his last breath. There, it had been like another planet with a room crowded with people who loved him and didn’t want to let him go, everyone softly crying and hanging on to whomever stood nearby.
“It isn’t supposed to happen this way,” she thought. “Dad was much too young to die. Dads aren’t supposed to die when you’re only ten years old.” But he had died.
She saw movement from the corner of her eye and looked just in time to see a white bunny and then a speckled one hop and stop, hop and stop from behind a gravestone, their noses twitching in the air. Then they scurried safely under some bushes.
“Are you ready to go, Cami?” Mom’s voice was tired. “We’ll visit here anytime you want to, sweetheart.”
Cami nodded. But as she rode in the car with her brothers and sister, she wanted right then to turn around and go back to the cemetery. Home reminded her of Dad when he was alive. Home made the sadness seem too huge to hold. She thought of Sister Bowen’s words, “These things take time.”
“How much time? How can I survive till then, whenever then is?” She forced herself to think good thoughts. Thinking about Jesus, about His Resurrection, and about the promise of her dad’s resurrection helped.
At home, she just sat all afternoon, not sure of what to do or how to feel or of how long before the next tears would fall. “Will I ever stop crying? What will it be like to have birthdays and Christmas and go on vacation without Dad? To have dinner, to go to church, to have family prayer without Dad?”
As evening came, the sadness seemed even bigger. She didn’t feel like praying, but she went ahead anyway, in her heart.
“Please, Heavenly Father, help me. I feel so sad and lonely. I know that I’ll see Dad again. I know that Jesus was resurrected after He died, and I know that someday Dad will be resurrected, too. But that’s someday. What about now? How do I get through today? Please help me know what to do to stop hurting so much.”
As Cami ended her prayer, she heard Mom calling everyone together for family prayer. Without even thinking, she went to Dad’s bedroom closet, pulled down his Sunday jacket, and put it on. It was gigantic on her ten-year-old body, but it was Dad’s. It felt like him, it looked like him, it even smelled like him. She pulled the collar up around her face and took in a deep breath. She felt safe. Now she could feel like he was near during family prayer.
When she went into the living room, the rest of the family was already kneeling. They looked up and stared at her. She didn’t care. She just went to the couch, knelt, and bowed her head.
No one started to pray, so she peeked to see what was happening. Her family was gone—but just for a minute. One by one, they came back. Her big brother had on Dad’s slippers. Mom had on his robe. Little Jimmy clomped in wearing Dad’s big shoes, and her older sister had on Dad’s favorite sweater.
Everyone knelt as Mom began to pray. She thanked Heavenly Father for the beautiful funeral services and for all the love that friends and neighbors had shown them. She thanked him for the good memories with Dad. And she thanked Heavenly Father that they could feel Dad close by.
It wouldn’t be easy with Dad living in heaven instead of at home with them, but for now—for tonight—with something he had worn close to each of them, waiting to see Dad again would be a little bit easier. For Cami, it was like being wrapped in his arms—just for now.

A good example of weathering this trial of faith is Yolanda Cantos of the Tolosa Branch, Tolosa Philippines District, on the island of Leyte. In 1985, when Yolanda was 22 years old, she visited relatives on Samar, a neighboring island. Her relatives invited her to listen to the missionary discussions. She agreed, but because she was a devout member of another church her real intention was to challenge the missionaries. “I knew they were wrong,” she says. She listened, though, and despite her intentions, she says, “the Spirit worked with me, and I couldn’t find any fault in their teachings.” Fearing that they were misleading her, she returned home to Tolosa. But when she prayed, she couldn’t forget what the missionaries had taught her, so she returned to Samar to continue the discussions.
“I was challenged twice to be baptized,” she says. “I knew the Church was true, but it was hard for me because of my family and friends. They belonged to another church, and I was a member of the choir. But when I went to witness the baptism of a friend, I heard a voice asking me why I had rejected Him so many times. And when I saw my friend immersed in the water, it was as if I saw myself being baptized. After that I told the missionaries that, no matter what happened, I wanted to be baptized.”
Her baptism took place a week later. When her mother learned of it, she wouldn’t allow Yolanda in her home anymore. She said if Yolanda would deny her new faith, then she would be welcome again. Yolanda assured her mother that someday she would understand her choice. Then she returned to Samar to live with her relatives and to fast and pray for her family. One month later her brother was baptized, and a year later her mother joined the Church. “It was through fasting and prayer,” explains Yolanda.
The path to the Lord’s Church wasn’t easy, but the rewards have been well worth the trial of faith Yolanda endured. She was married in the Manila Philippines Temple in 1993; her husband, Felix, a returned missionary, is president of the Tolosa Branch; and they have two sons, Jed Ephraim and Russell Jacob.

Some years back, Terry, a deacon, was at Tracy Wigwam on an overnight camp. That night a full moon hung overhead. The adviser took Terry by the arm and said, “Let’s go for a walk.” They went several hundred feet from the cabins. The adviser said, “Terry, let’s kneel here and have a prayer.” They knelt together and prayed. After the prayer Terry’s adviser said to him, “Terry, do you pray?” Terry answered that he did not. “Terry, will you commit to pray every day all the rest of your life?”
Terry said, “I never made a commitment unless I intended to keep it.” He thought about prayer and decided it was right. It was a good thing. He said to his adviser, “Yes, I will pray all the rest of my life.”
Terry, who went on to high school, then quarterbacked for the University of Utah where he was all-conference, and went on to play for the Pittsburgh Steelers, said, “I have kept that commitment, and I have prayed every morning and night since that day.” And Terry is here tonight.

The whole family put their faith on the line several years ago when they decided to close the shop on Sunday, even though it was one of their best days. They lost some customers after that, but they held firm to their decision, and their ex-customers, lonely for the incomparable pastries, came back and brought friends. Surrounded by this kind of integrity, Tom has learned many principles more important than the secrets of baking.

The faith of this family is personified by the faith of President Uchtdorf’s grandmother. She was standing in line for food following the end of World War II when an elderly single sister with no family of her own invited her to sacrament meeting. His grandmother and his parents accepted the invitation. They went to church, felt the Spirit, were uplifted by the kindness of the members, and were edified by the hymns of the Restoration. In 1947 Dieter’s parents were baptized in Zwickau; Dieter was baptized nearly two years later at the age of eight. The family’s commitment to the Church became strong and enduring.

Twelve-year-old Elizabeth watched Carol’s long fingers glide smoothly over the black and white piano keys.
“Excellent, Carol!” Mrs. Brown exclaimed for the second time in a matter of minutes. “You’ll do beautifully in Saturday’s competition. I’m expecting you to win that trophy again this year.”
Elizabeth squirmed uneasily and rubbed her moist palms together. The grandfather clock against the wall seemed to stare at her. It wasn’t easy following Mrs. Brown’s best student at piano lessons every week. No matter how hard Elizabeth practiced, she always felt a bit inadequate compared to Carol.
“The competition begins promptly at two o’clock Saturday,” Mrs. Brown told Carol.
“I’ll be here,” Carol replied. “I want to add this year’s trophy to my collection. See you Saturday, Mrs. Brown.” Carol walked confidently across the room to the door, ignoring Elizabeth.
“Let’s get started, Elizabeth,” the teacher said, motioning her toward the piano. The bench felt hard and unfriendly as Elizabeth sat down and slid to the center. In a way, Mrs. Brown still frightened her, even after two years of lessons.
“Arch those fingers, and wrists down,” Mrs. Brown began. “And please count out loud.”
Elizabeth began her scales. “One, two, and three and four and one,” she repeated again and again. Her fingers were loose and steady. Those extra hours of practicing were making a difference.
“Sounds good, Elizabeth.” Mrs. Brown’s voice sounded a little surprised. “Now let’s try your piece for the competition Saturday.”
Elizabeth took the teacher’s request as a challenge. Her fingers were like the smoothly moving parts of a machine as they glided almost effortlessly over the keys. The music was soft, then loud; sweet, then proud. She turned the last page and finished the piece boldly.
“Good, Elizabeth!” Mrs. Brown exclaimed. “Very good. In fact, Elizabeth, that performance deserves a bravo!”
Elizabeth smiled, her eyes glistening happily. She knew that she had to be good to receive comments like those from Mrs. Brown.
“Those judges are going to have quite a decision to make on Saturday if you play this well then, Elizabeth,” her teacher praised her at the end of the lesson. “The best of luck to you. Remember, the competition starts at two o’clock.”
Elizabeth walked outside in a daze and waited for her ride. Bravo! she thought, recalling Mrs. Brown’s words. She sat down on the grass and began imagining herself in a large, dark concert hall, bowing to thunderous applause. Hot theater lights made her perspire as she curtsied proudly.
The out-of-tune honk of her mother’s car horn startled Elizabeth and brought her back to reality. “Mother!” Elizabeth cried. She grabbed her books, jumped up, and ran excitedly to the car. “Mrs. Brown liked my playing today. She said I even have a chance for the trophy at the competition on—“
“Slow down, Elizabeth,” her mother interrupted. But there was a pleased look on her face. “Tell me all about it from the beginning.” She pulled the car slowly into the street.
“Oh, Mother,” Elizabeth began, “after I listened to Carol play today, I was really discouraged. She never makes a mistake, and she’s won the trophy the past three years.”
“Carol is a good player,” her mother responded honestly.
“But when I played my piece for Mrs. Brown, she liked it. She said ‘Bravo,’ Mother. And she said that the judges would have a hard time choosing a winner on Saturday.”
“All those hours at the piano are really beginning to pay off,” her mother replied encouragingly. “I always believed that you had a real talent for the piano.”
Elizabeth spent many hours the next three days seated at the upright piano in the corner of the living room. Her fingers worked endlessly. All she could think about was winning the trophy.
Autumn turned annoyingly into winter the Saturday of the competition. Gray black clouds filled the sky, and before noon large snowflakes were falling.
Elizabeth practiced playing her piece for what seemed to be the thousandth time. Nervously she put on her favorite blue dress. Her shining dark brown hair lay clean on her shoulders.
“I’m ready to go,” she told her father. Her little brothers wore their white shirts and dress pants.
“Let’s get started then,” Dad said. “This storm has turned into a blizzard. We’ll need extra time to get to the competition.”
The windshield wipers on the car slapped noisily from side to side, sweeping the snowflakes aside as they accumulated. As the car wound slowly toward the studio, the storm worsened, and cars began sliding on the road.
“What if we’re too late, Dad?” Elizabeth asked anxiously.
“I think we’ll make it, if we’re careful,” her father reassured her.
Elizabeth relaxed momentarily, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes. We just have to make it! she thought. I’ve worked too hard to miss the competition.
The monotony of the windshield wipers was interrupted by a slushy, skidding sound. Elizabeth opened her eyes to see a large sedan slide off the road.
“Looks like they’re in trouble,” her father said grimly.
Elizabeth stared out the window at the struggling vehicle as their own car crept slowly by. The sedan seemed to be hopelessly stuck.
Suddenly Elizabeth recognized it. It was the one always parked in front of the piano studio when she arrived for her lesson. Carol was inside that car! Mrs. Brown’s best piano student was agonizing, no doubt, as she listened to the car’s wheels whine desperately.
A triumphant smile spread over Elizabeth’s face as she imagined the trophy on her dresser. After all, it was not her fault that Carol’s car had slipped off the road.
The big sedan was not much more than a spot in the distance now, and Mrs. Brown’s studio was just a few minutes away. But Elizabeth felt uneasy. Her earlier enthusiasm for an easy victory had disappeared. Several times she squinted out the back window at the stalled car. It had not moved.
“We’re going to make it, Elizabeth!” her father said happily. “We’ll be there in no time.”
“Dad, you have to turn back,” Elizabeth declared firmly.
Elizabeth’s mother and brothers stared at her.
“Carol was in that car back there that slid off the road. If we don’t go back and help, she’ll never make it in time to play.”
“I’ll do whatever you want, Elizabeth, but we’re sure to be late.”
“Then stop and turn around, Dad. Now. We can both still make it if we play last.” Elizabeth sounded sure about her decision.
Slowly her father brought the car to a halt. He turned it around carefully and drove back to the car that was stuck.
Later the audience clapped enthusiastically as Carol stood and walked to the judges’ stand. She had performed flawlessly. Her hands grasped the tall trophy.
Behind Carol, out of the bright lights, Elizabeth stood with the other contenders. She had not won the trophy, but she knew that her parents were equally proud of her. A feeling of contentment came over her as she realized that some things were even more important than winning a trophy.

My younger sister, Hannah, was also studying about the Godhead that week. She said that when her teacher talked about God the Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost being one person, she knew that it was not true. She tried to shut out what was being said by not listening. After Bible class, she went up to her teacher and said, “Joseph Smith said he saw two Personages.” Her teacher was taken aback and asked her to explain what she meant. Hannah explained our church’s teaching about the Godhead, and her teacher listened and was respectful. Afterward, the teacher told our mom that she was proud of Hannah for sharing her beliefs with her. Her teacher even came to watch Hannah get baptized at the beach later that year.

A few months ago, I was at my neighbor’s house. We were having a lot of fun playing. Later in the day, he asked me if I wanted to watch a movie, and I said yes. As my friend got the movie ready to watch, I saw what it was rated and knew that it was one I should not watch. I offered a silent prayer to Heavenly Father about what I should do. I said to my friend, “I think I need to go home now.” As I walked home, I thought about what I had done. I had obeyed my parents and Heavenly Father. I knew that Heavenly Father had answered my prayer and helped me make a good choice.
Marshall Klein, age 9Trabuco Canyon, California

I think of two missionaries who came to my grandfather in the 1920s in Kitchener, Ontario. There were no LDS people in the city. They’d been discouraged, and as they passed his door, they heard a song playing that had been played at their farewell. They approached the door to listen, and he saw them. They introduced the gospel to his heart. He joined the Church, and so all of my life I’ve been blessed to know that the gospel is true and that we have a prophet who guides and directs us.

We provide for our children as we teach them how to work. Let me tell you about my grandson Jacob. He did not want to go to school. His mother had tried so many things. Finally she sat him down and said, “Daddy’s job is to go to work and earn money. My job is to stay home and take care of you and your brothers and sister. And your job, Jacob, is to go to school.” When Jacob understood the principle, he accepted it and went to school.

Cowboys often have a bad reputation for smoking and drinking. But I’d like to thank my dad for setting the example for me of being a cowboy who doesn’t do those kinds of things.
Once when I was tagging along with my dad to a rodeo, an old buddy of my dad’s came up to talk to him. During the conversation, the guy asked mv dad to come to the bar after the rodeo for a drink for old-time’s sake.
My dad just grinned and said, “You know I don’t drink.”
The guy said, “Yeah, I know. I was just checking.”
That answer was more important to me than just a friendly no. I respect my father for setting a great example for me that day. From then on, any time I was asked to drink or have a smoke, my dad’s answer would come to my mind and then come to my lips.

President J. Reuben Clark, Jr., was a man of like integrity. As a young man he presided for a short time over the Southern Branch of the State Normal College in Cedar City, Utah. He developed a great interest in that institution.
“Two years later … his help was solicited to give encouragement to members of the legislature to provide the funds which had been requested by the institution.”
Responding by letter he “explained in utter frankness and candor that he could not support the … request” for $100,000.
“‘… Frankly and freely,’ he said, ‘I believe you are asking too much. …
“‘… I have thought the matter over very carefully, and have not been able to see my way clear to honestly recommend to your representatives the appropriation … you ask. …
“‘If you would say that you will drop the $100,000 and work for the $54,000 you may count on my active cooperation to the very limit of my poor ability; but if you still reach after the larger amount, you will at once see it will be better if I keep quiet; and I promise you that I shall do that.’
“The frankness in this letter was to become a distinguishing characteristic of [President] Clark’s correspondence and dealings with men throughout his long career. Although his recommendations many times did not contain what others had hoped to receive, nonetheless his candor and complete honesty contributed greatly to men’s confidence in him for they knew they could depend upon him to say what he really thought.” (David H. Yarn, Jr., Young Reuben, Brigham Young University Press, Provo, Utah, pp. 113–14.)

Nineteen-year-old Emily Rowland takes a deep breath. The task ahead of her seems nearly impossible. A trickle of sweat slowly makes its way down her face to drip off her chin, and her face becomes flushed, but she won’t give up.
Emily knows she must persevere, not only for herself, but for others who will follow. Her heart pounds and her muscles beg her to stop, but she knows it will be worth it.
This is Relief Society Homemaking meeting.
Of course, it’s not always this much of an ordeal—but this particular Homemaking night finds Emily and some of the other women in her ward—the University Ward near the University of Nevada at Las Vegas—working to improve their health and fitness, and that means working up a sweat doing aerobics. Other times Homemaking might mean learning about how to manage finances (not a bad skill for a college freshman like Emily), or how to look for a job, or maybe even how to change a flat tire.
What, no recipes, no baby quilts?
“Sure, cooking and sewing are important too,” says Emily. “It always amazes me how well Relief Society can adjust to individual needs. It’s a lot of fun.”
Emily and two of her friends, Aubrey VanDrimmelen and Charlotte Ballard, say that leaving Young Women behind was hard, and maybe even a little frightening. But it’s also something they all agree it was time to do.
“I really loved Young Women,” says Charlotte. “And Relief Society is different from Young Women. For one thing, there are a lot of people who are older than you. But after you’ve gone a few times, you realize how nice everyone is, how much they want to be your friend.”
Emily points out that going from Young Women to Relief Society happens at a time when most girls are headed off to college, entering the work force, preparing for missions, or getting married.
“Those are big changes,” she says. “Relief Society is a big change, too, but it helps you cope with all the other new things in life.”
Part of making the change into Relief Society means learning new skills. Probably one of the most important things all three girls learned right away was how to be a good visiting teacher—something none of them had done before.
“The first time I went visiting teaching, I had no clue what I was doing,” says Aubrey. “It was sort of hard to think of things to say, but now I really like it. It’s great to get to know people and help them out.”
Unlike some student wards, the University Ward in Las Vegas has a mix of single and married people. A few couples even have children, so the younger women in the ward have to step out of their comfort zone to help the others.
Emily and her partner (who is also 19) go visiting teaching to the married, has-a-master’s-degree, has-a-baby Relief Society president (gulp). But, as with most other things, Emily takes it in stride and has even learned to enjoy it.
“Getting the call to be her visiting teacher was a little intimidating, I have to admit,” she says. “Since I didn’t know what it was like to be married or have a baby, I just had to ask her. Since I was forced to ask a lot of questions, I’ve come to know more about her. I really admire her, and I have learned so much from being her visiting teacher. And I hope maybe she’s learned a little something from me.”
“Last week, our lesson on Sunday was titled ‘Aging Is Part of God’s Plan,’” says Aubrey. “I looked at that and thought, How on earth is that going to apply to someone like me? I mean, no one in my ward is exactly getting old.”
Even though there is only one lesson in the Relief Society curriculum about aging, there are lots of lessons on family and social relationships. Does that mean that someone who is young and single can’t get anything from them?
“No way!” says Emily, who serves as a Spiritual Living teacher in her ward. “I work on my lesson all week, reading it so many times I practically know it by heart. Every lesson has something that is valuable, whether you’re 19, 29, or 79.”
Charlotte says that the age differences in Relief Society actually add to her experience.
“You can always learn things from people who are older than you,” she says. “You may not need to know those things right at the moment you learn them, but lots of them come in handy later on. There’s always a great spirit in Relief Society because people share their own experiences.”
Of course, one thing that doesn’t change whether you’re in Young Women or Relief Society is the chance to learn about the Savior and how to become more like him.
“I know with a surety that my Savior lives,” says Emily. “Sometimes you start to doubt things, but if you listen to the lessons in Relief Society you learn and grow so much because you’re doing the right thing. Relief Society helps you stay close to the gospel.”
And along with that closeness to the Savior and the gospel come a closeness and friendship with each other that the girls say is hard to duplicate anywhere else.
“There’s a lot of love in our Relief Society,” says Charlotte. “You can tell when you’re there that people are willing to help each other. There are opportunities to serve and teach everywhere.”
This year, young women all over the Church will be taking the plunge into Relief Society. With a little less than a year of Relief Society under their belts, Emily, Aubrey, and Charlotte know what that initial plunge feels like: exciting, scary, and possibly (for the newcomer) a little intimidating. They also know what it feels like to keep coming: rewarding, uplifting, and a smooth transition to a lot of fun, where age differences don’t matter much.
“Everyone in Relief Society wants you to know you are accepted and to make you feel good about being there. What could be better?” says Emily.
Aubrey agrees.
“It’s a little like reading the scriptures,” she says. “Every time you go, you learn something different. And the longer you do it, the more you learn.”
Friendship, love, skill training, and spiritual growth—it’s a good deal no matter what age you are and no matter what your needs are. And who knows? The first time you go, they might even serve a delicious, fancy dessert—with the recipe, of course. After all, this is Relief Society.
Feeling left out because there’s not a student or singles’ ward in your area? Well, whether you live hundreds of miles away from the nearest Church member your age, or just a few minutes from Church headquarters, your home ward is still a great place for you to be—including Relief Society!
Christy Pimper, another 19-year-old college student from Las Vegas, has chosen to attend her home ward. Here are some of her tips on finding a way to fit in:
Mentally prepare to make the move. “I really liked Young Women, but when I turned 18, I felt ready to leave. I was older than everyone and my needs were different. When it’s time to move on, don’t hesitate!”
Take the opportunity to develop your testimony. “The lessons in Relief Society are great. You learn things you never knew before, and you understand things you’ve known all your life much better than before.”
Make friends. “Even though everyone in my ward is older than me, I don’t feel left out. All the women go out of their way to make me feel welcome.”
Keep an open mind. “Relief Society is different from Young Women, but unless you give it a try, you’ll never really know for yourself what it’s like.”

Around the turn of the previous century, two missionaries were laboring in the mountains of the southern United States. One day, from a hilltop, they saw people gathering in a clearing far below. The missionaries did not often have many people to whom they might preach, so they made their way down to the clearing.
A little boy had drowned, and there was to be a funeral. His parents had sent for the minister to “say words” over their son. The missionaries stood back as the itinerant minister faced the grieving father and mother and began his sermon. If the parents expected to receive comfort from this man of the cloth, they would be disappointed.
He scolded them severely for not having had the little boy baptized. They had put it off because of one thing or another, and now it was too late. He told them very bluntly that their little boy had gone to hell. It was their fault. They were to blame for his endless torment.
After the sermon was over and the grave was covered, the elders approached the grieving parents. “We are servants of the Lord,” they told the mother, “and we have come with a message for you.” As the sobbing parents listened, the two elders read from the revelations and bore their testimony of the restoration of the keys for the redemption of both the living and the dead.
I have some sympathy for that preacher. He was doing the best he could with such light and knowledge as he had. But there is more that he should have been able to offer. There is the fulness of the gospel.
The elders came as comforters, as teachers, as servants of the Lord, as authorized ministers of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

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.

I met Mark when I came home from college for a visit. He was a young officer in the United States military, tall and handsome, just starting an exciting career. We liked each other immediately and spent as much time together as possible. It seemed we were made for each other. He visited me at college, and by the time I returned home for the summer vacation I knew I had to make a decision about my future.
After a few dates Mark had asked me to seriously consider not returning to college in the fall so that we could spend more time together. I had worked and saved through high school so that I could have a college education, and I just couldn’t give up my dreams of college so soon.
No matter how fervently I prayed about marriage and a future with Mark, I never felt peaceful with that decision. I thought it through many times and came up with many reasons why we could have a wonderful a life together. I had always wanted to travel and knew I would love living abroad in interesting foreign lands with him in the military.
One special evening, after a romantic dinner, we decided to drive around a lovely little lake. We drove slowly as if we might save the magic of the moment. We stopped not far from my home and spoke quietly and seriously about our future and how much we cared for each other.
At that moment it would have been easy to go too far with my affections, and he with his. Who would know? I had always been morally clean and thought I would never be vulnerable in that way. I was caught off guard by how easily physical desire became so strong.
Then pictures flooded my mind. I could clearly see my Beehive teacher, my grandmothers, and my parents. My thoughts were filled with their words and what they had taught me about being chaste. I could feel their love as strongly as if they were there with me. Time seemed to stop. I was facing temptation in its most deceiving disguise—temptation masquerading as young love. Clearly it was a choice between right and wrong, and I knew I wanted to be clean and pure. I was surprised at how easily that moment passed once the decision was made. I realized that real love respects purity. Temptation respects nothing.
The rest of the evening turned from romance to a clear-headed discussion of what our futures were to be. I was more certain than before that Heavenly Father had different plans for us. I don’t remember exactly what we said, only that we probably weren’t really meant for each other after all. I went home, told my parents it was over, but was at peace with the decision. We saw each other only a few times after that evening, and our paths soon went separate directions. I returned to college, and he went on with his life. We had no contact after that summer.
Returning to school, I moved back into regular college life, dating a few great guys, eventually meeting a fine man. He had a sense of humor and a strong testimony, and we had common goals. It was then that I received strong, positive confirmation he was the right person for me to marry. What had seemed so important the summer before faded. Mark just became just one of the guys I had known.
Years passed, and with a husband and several children, I was a busy mother trying to build an eternal family, working in the Church. One day I found some free time and slipped away to attend the temple. In that holy place, I noticed a temple worker who looked vaguely familiar. Only as I passed did I realize it was my old boyfriend Mark. There, in the Lord’s house, I felt no remorse or regrets. I didn’t have to turn away in shame because of things we had done. Instead I smiled and nodded.
In the celestial room I gave quiet thanks for guidance from Church leaders, parents, and Mutual teachers who had taught the principle of chastity. In the most sacred place on earth, the holy temple, I was filled with gratitude for sure and true commandments, which kept me safe and clean. Once I was young and inexperienced, but I had the best guides in all eternity, our Savior’s teachings and the Holy Ghost, to direct me to the right path. He knew what was right for me.
In the years since then, I have had a good, happy life, and I am sure Mark has had the same. I heard that he left the military, served a mission, and was later called to be a bishop. Ours are separate lives, free and clear, with only good memories. I am just one girl he dated; he is one guy I dated—and that is all.