Gospel Story Finder

Memories of a very special Christmas gift presented to me ten years ago are still among the most inspiring and meaningful of my life.
I had the good fortune to be a volunteer teacher at a home for mentally retarded children, where my duties included helping the children with their normal daily routines, teaching music, reading to the children, and creating various forms of recreation. As I grew to know and love these special children, I realized that a very important part of their lives was being neglected, and that was when I began to teach the gospel to the most receptive and eager group of students I have ever known.
My eight students, who ranged in age from eight to sixteen, were so excited to learn about Jesus Christ that it was very difficult for me to control their enthusiasm. A whole new world was opening up to them, and despite their various capacities to learn, they did learn and respond, each in his own way. There was one exception, however, and his name was Freddy.
Freddy was fourteen years old, mildly retarded and severely emotionally disturbed. He had been abandoned when he was very young, as had many of the children at the home, and outside the people who lived or worked at the home, no one really cared about Freddy. This was the reason I allowed Freddy to become a member of the class, even though he was the center of every disruption imaginable. At times I felt like sending him out of the class, but I knew that rejection was not the answer to Freddy’s problems, so the class endured the situation.
It disturbed me that I was not able to get through to my little troublemaker. While the rest of my class had a concept of Jesus Christ, Heavenly Father, and what they represented, Freddy seemed oblivious to the whole thing. Each week it was my practice to present each child with a Bible verse that he could understand. While most of the children could not read, each one received a copy of the scripture to place among his personal belongings, so he could look at it or read it every day. Many times I would have the children draw pictures to represent the verse I had given them, and if they were not able to draw, I created something visual to correspond to the verse. Most of the children hung their verses and pictures above their beds so they could be reminded of it as they offered their evening prayer, which was a requirement in my class. Each time I gave Freddy his verse, he would tear it up in front of me. All in all it was very frustrating for me because I knew that Freddy was not as severely retarded as many of his classmates but he couldn’t or wouldn’t learn.
Seeking a solution to Freddy’s disruptions, I tried many forms of creative discipline, but nothing seemed to affect him. At times I had the urge to just shake him, but that would have accomplished nothing. Freddy was surely putting me to the test, and I was failing. I was running out of answers, I had already run out of patience, and I was beginning to seriously consider removing Freddy from the class.
As Christmas was approaching, I explained to my children the true meaning of Christmas. They were curious and very receptive. All except Freddy. Several days before Christmas, the entire home held a party for everyone: staff, volunteers, students, parents, and anyone else who wanted to come.
As the party progressed, I noticed Freddy was not to be seen. I searched for him and found him in his room, laboring over a very crumpled, worn-looking package that he was obviously wrapping by himself. I left him to his task and returned to the party. Shortly after, Freddy approached me and threw the package in my lap and ran away. When I opened the package, I found the most beautiful gift I have ever received. It was a ragged piece of coarse fabric, hand sewn at the top, with a piece of cork glued in the middle. It was a wall hanging, and the cork in the middle was to be used to tack the weekly Bible verse to. I was told that Freddy worked three months on the gift and the design was his own idea. It was indeed a labor of love, sacrifice, and above all patience, because I knew the frustrations Freddy must have suffered while making it. I also knew that in his own way Freddy understood what I had been trying to teach him, and in some ways, he understood even better than I.
Freddy now lives with our Heavenly Father, and with few exceptions, I am sure that he has been forgotten on earth. The gift he gave me still hangs in my home as it always will. It is a little older and much more tattered, but as I look at it I see Freddy and remember the sacrifice he made to teach me the virtue of patience. When I feel frustrated or want to give up, Freddy is there, gently nudging me to go on.
Freddy’s Christmas gift has changed my life, and the lesson it taught is deep within my heart. I am so very grateful to have had that very precious child as my teacher.

When I was in the fourth grade, I had a variety show to sing in. Some of the girls were singing a bad song. I didn’t like it. When I got home, I told my mom about it. She talked to my dad, and my dad told my principal. The girls had to sing a better song. The program turned out good because I wasn’t afraid to speak out about a bad song. I know that Jesus Christ was happy.
Hydee Rushton, age 10Sun River Valley Ward

One example of how receiving our endowment can be helpful in navigating all areas of our life can be found in Hannah’s story.

Hannah (name has been changed) was a young single adult sister in my ward who was going through some personal trauma when she came to meet with me. She had just broken off a relationship that had started out with a lot of promise, leaving her feeling alone and despondent. She wasn’t planning on serving a mission, but after seeking personal revelation on how to move forward in her life, Hannah received an impression to start preparing to receive her endowment. I encouraged her to do so.

A few months later, Hannah and I met for a temple recommend interview. As we prayerfully discussed her feelings and the efforts she’d been making to prepare herself for the temple—including attending a temple preparation class and studying scriptures and other materials produced by Church leaders—a clear impression came to me that she was prepared to make and keep sacred covenants in the temple.

I felt that the Lord was pleased with her diligent preparation and was desirous for her to come into His house and receive the greater gifts found there. Hannah was seeking greater enlightenment for her life, a stronger relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, and healing.

Hannah witnessed President Packer’s truths stated above. She shared with me that she has been able to deepen her knowledge of the Lord, to keep an eternal perspective, and to become more like Christ through reflecting on the covenants she made during her endowment. And as she has consistently returned to the temple, she has been able to invite the Savior’s healing power into her life and has been guided in many life decisions by Heavenly Father, including in her decision to be sealed to her husband for time and all eternity.

Lucy prepared herself early in her marriage to raise a prophet. On one occasion she became seriously ill, and the doctors said she would die. Lucy records that she “made a solemn covenant with God that if He would let me live I would endeavor to serve him according to the best of my abilities.” After a voice assured her that she would live, she told her mother, “The Lord will let me live, if I am faithful to the promise which I made to him, to be a comfort to my mother, my husband, and my children” (Lucy Mack Smith, History of Joseph Smith, ed. Preston Nibley [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1958], pp. 34–35).

After boot camp and medical training, I was assigned to an air force base in Colorado, USA. One day, I received a letter from my oldest brother stationed in the Philippines. He had joined the air force about a year before I did. He told me that he had become a member of the Church, and he wanted me to meet with the missionaries. I immediately recalled the experience in boot camp with the brave airman. My wife and I met with the missionaries, and we were soon baptized.
A few months later, I had the missionaries visit my younger brother. He and his wife were also baptized. My brothers and I now have large families with grandchildren. We all love the Lord and His Church.

When I started my first semester of college in the United States, I was so excited. I was attending a school with a lot of Church members, and I had never been surrounded by so many people my age who believed the same things I did! I expected we would all share the same standards and help each other grow spiritually and intellectually.
However, I was surprised when my expectations fell a little short.
Back in my home city in Taiwan, Church members always seemed to take the gospel seriously. They never missed a chance to connect with Jesus Christ, and neither did I. There, I would go to the temple every month with my younger sister (who always motivated me to go), I never missed church meetings (because of my parents), and I always tried to make decisions that kept me connected to the Spirit, just like the people around me did.
But at school, while nobody was intentionally breaking commandments, for some people, the gospel seemed to be lower on their to-do lists. Some of them made choices that just teetered on the edge between the world and the gospel. Being on my own for the first time, I got busy and caught up in what everyone else around me was doing. I soon saw how easy it is to be influenced by the world around you when you’re not prioritizing the gospel.
When friends around me were making decisions that didn’t always align with gospel standards, I started to wonder if I was living in a way that was too spiritual. I wondered if I was the odd one out—if I was taking the gospel too seriously. I started to feel lonely, especially at church. I felt tempted to change my standards to fit in with the people around me.
However, around that time, President Russell M. Nelson shared a powerful message in general conference:
“We have never needed positive spiritual momentum more than we do now. … Spiritual momentum can help us withstand the relentless, wicked attacks of the adversary and thwart his efforts to erode our personal spiritual foundation.
“… I urge you to get on the covenant path and stay there. Experience the joy of repenting daily. Learn about God and how He works. Seek and expect miracles. …
“As you act on these pursuits, I promise you the ability to move forward on the covenant path with increased momentum, despite whatever obstacles you face.”
That’s when it hit me.
I had been more interested in what others were doing than my own personal relationship with the Savior. I even realized that my school was right next to a temple and I hadn’t been there yet! It also became clear how much I had relied on others to influence my spirituality back in Taiwan too.
I needed to do the work to reignite my spiritual momentum and focus on Christ—who should be my top motivator to live His gospel.
I started making some changes.
Even if I didn’t feel motivated to go to church or attend the temple or do anything spiritual some days, I chose to do so anyway and focus on my Savior. It didn’t matter what everyone else was doing.
The world makes it easy to take the blessings of the gospel for granted, but when I focus on Him, I remember what matters most.
Instead of wallowing in loneliness and focusing on the differences in how we are living our lives, I now reach out to others. I strive to make friends and note all the positive interactions I have with them, like a simple smile or a kind conversation.
I no longer compare my discipleship to others’. Instead, I focus on keeping my spiritual habits consistent and strengthening my relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. When I prioritize my relationship with Them, I remember how much They love each of us perfectly, and it reminds me to offer grace to others just like They offer grace to me.
President Nelson also invited us “to take charge of your own testimony of Jesus Christ and His gospel. Work for it. Nurture it so that it will grow. Feed it truth. … As you make the continual strengthening of your testimony of Jesus Christ your highest priority, watch for miracles to happen in your life.”
The world makes being casual about your discipleship easy, especially when you’re on your own for the first time as a young adult. However, I encourage you to accept our prophet’s invitation to strengthen your foundation of faith in Jesus Christ.
Making Him a priority keeps me moving forward on the covenant path.

President Hunter, President Hinckley, President Monson, thank you for this opportunity to share my testimony and my feelings of joy, gratitude, and responsibility for being called to serve the Primary children of the Church.
I have appreciated what Elder Wirthlin has taught us. I have also had an experience similar to his.
Several years ago while my husband, Ed, and I were serving in the England London South Mission, there was an unexpected storm. All night the winds raged. When morning came we ventured from the mission home to see the damage. It was devastating. Many trees throughout our garden, the neighborhood, and all of southern England had been uprooted. It was amazing to see the fallen trees with their gigantic root systems, still intact, jutting into the air. I came to the conclusion that because of the “easiness of the way” (Alma 37:46)—rain is plentiful in England—the trees had no need to sink their roots deep into the earth to get the nourishment they needed. Their roots were not strong enough or deep enough to withstand the hurricane-force winds.
On the other hand, the giant redwood trees that grow in northern California also have a very shallow root system. But when they are surrounded by other redwood trees, the strongest, fiercest wind cannot blow them over. The roots of the giant redwood trees intertwine and strengthen each other. When a storm comes, they actually hold each other up.
May I share with you some personal examples and thank those people who have been as the giant redwoods in my life, those who have been an example of caring and teaching, those who have intertwined their roots in mine and helped me stand firm as they taught me through their words and their lives.
I feel deep gratitude to my mother, who allowed me to be responsible and didn’t always fix my mistakes. To my father, who is soon to be eighty-nine years old and is living with us, thank you, Dad. Thank you for teaching me as the scriptures counsel, “only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned; … reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love” (D&C 121:41, 43).
The strongest intertwining roots in my life are those of my companion and sweetheart, Ed, who is supernally righteous. He has taught and encouraged me, exemplifying President Hunter’s prayer “that we might treat each other with more kindness, more courtesy, more humility and patience and forgiveness” (quoted in Ensign, July 1994, p. 4).
To my children, who are a part of my roots, who are a brightness of hope in my life—thank you for helping me stand tall with gladness because you are trying.
I am a happy grandmother. Thirteen of our seventeen grandchildren are Primary and pre-Primary age. They will help teach me about Primary and children. They can be my hands-on training. Could there be a better calling for a grandmother than to love and strengthen children?
May I offer a sincere expression of gratitude to you, my brothers and sisters, who have strengthened me by forgiving me when I have disappointed you.
There are many others in my life who have encouraged me and allowed me to connect with their strengths. My deep gratitude to President Janette C. Hales, the Young Women presidency, board, and staff who have shared their wisdom and insights, who have more than loved and supported me these last two years. To Michaelene Grassli, Betty Jo Jepsen, Ruth Wright, and the Primary board, thank you for your devotion and untiring efforts to encourage all members of the Church to focus on what is best for the children.
When I was ten or eleven years old, I became the Primary organist in the ward in Hawaii where I grew up. That is one of my most vivid Primary memories. I remember being very nervous. I remember making many mistakes. But I remember even more clearly that the Primary leaders cared more about me than about the mistakes I made.
I thank the community of Saints, the ward family of Saints, who, throughout my life, have provided “safe places”—places where I was able to be taught, to have experiences, to practice, and to eventually better understand and live the principles of the gospel.
One day as Ed and I were maneuvering the streets of England, he turned to me with tears in his eyes, and he said, “Look.” I turned and saw a child on the side of the road. And then he said, “Who will teach the children?” That thought will not leave my mind or my heart. Who will teach the children? Who will teach the child who asks, “Will Heavenly Father really answer my prayer?” Who will teach Kate when at five years of age she asks, “Why do we need Jesus?” Who will teach the children? Please, will you? Will you? Will you help teach the children?

I have always admired my great-grandmother Mary Bommeli’s devotion to sharing the doctrine of Jesus Christ. Her family was taught by missionaries in Switzerland when she was 24.

After being baptized, Mary desired to join the Saints in America, so she made her way from Switzerland to Berlin and found work with a woman who employed her to weave cloth for the family’s clothing. Mary lived in a servant’s room and set up her loom in the home’s living area.

At that time, teaching the doctrine of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was illegal in Berlin. But Mary found she could not keep from sharing the things she had learned. The woman of the house and her friends would gather around the loom to hear Mary teach. She spoke of the appearance of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ to Joseph Smith, the visitation of angels, and the Book of Mormon. Remembering the accounts of Alma, she taught about the doctrine of the Resurrection. She testified that families can be reunited in the celestial kingdom.

Mary’s enthusiasm to share the doctrine of the restored gospel soon caused trouble. It was not long before the police took Mary off to jail. On the way, she asked the policeman for the name of the judge she was to appear before the next morning. She also asked about his family and if he was a good father and husband. The policeman described the judge as a man of the world.

In the jail, Mary requested a pencil and some paper. She spent the night writing a letter to the judge, bearing witness to the Resurrection of Jesus Christ as described in the Book of Mormon, discussing the spirit world, and explaining repentance. She suggested that the judge would need time to reflect on his life before facing final judgment. She wrote that she knew he had much to repent of, much which would deeply sadden his family and bring him great sorrow. In the morning, when she had finished her letter, she gave it to the policeman and asked him to deliver it to the judge, and he agreed to do so.

Later, the policeman was summoned by the judge to his office. The letter Mary had written was irrefutable evidence that she was teaching the doctrine of the restored gospel and, by so doing, breaking the law. However, it wasn’t long before the policeman returned to Mary’s cell. He told her that all charges were dismissed and that she was free to go. Her teaching the doctrine of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ had caused her to be cast into jail. And her declaring the doctrine of repentance to the judge got her cast out of jail.

Mary Bommeli’s teaching did not end with her release. The record of her words passed true doctrine down through generations yet unborn. Her belief that even a new convert could teach the doctrine of Jesus Christ has ensured that her descendants will be strengthened in their own battles.

That same light showed two teenage sisters the way to go on a very frightening day in 1833. An angry mob stormed through the quiet streets of Independence, Missouri, where 15-year-old Mary Elizabeth Rollins and her 13-year-old sister Caroline lived. The terrifying mob was destroying property and burning and rioting. Some of the mobsters broke into the home of Brother William Phelps, where the printing press was located. He had been printing revelations received by the Prophet Joseph Smith. They tore apart the printing press and threw it into the street. They carried the priceless printed pages out of the building, throwing them in a pile in the yard to burn.

Mary Elizabeth and her sister Caroline were hiding behind a fence, trembling as they watched the destruction. Mary knew full well the danger of angry mobs, but in spite of that, she felt the urgency to save those precious pages. The two teenage sisters ran out to the street, grabbed armfuls of the scriptures, and fled. Some of the mob saw this and ordered them to stop as they chased after the courageous sisters. The girls ran into a large cornfield, where they fell breathless to the ground. Between the rows of corn they laid the copies of the revelations on the ground and then spread themselves over the pages. The men were relentless in their search for the girls among the tall cornstalks, coming very near at times, but they never were able to find the girls, and eventually they gave up and left to finish their destruction in the town.

The light of the Lord showed those young women what to do and where to go for safety. That same light shines for you. It can keep you safe as it did them. We have a sculpture of those sisters in the Young Women office to remind us of the courage of young women then and now.

The General Authority who married Brother and Sister Hunter gave them some advice they took very seriously: Stay out of debt; never buy anything until you have the money to pay for it. They followed that counsel, sticking with it throughout their married life and teaching it to their children.
That counsel proved to be extremely valuable when the bank where Howard was employed failed during the Great Depression of the early 1930s. Out of work, but also out of debt, Brother Hunter quickly found other employment.

In early Church history, the Prophet Joseph, Emma, and their 11-month-old twins, Joseph and Julia, were in Hiram, Ohio, at the John and Alice Johnson home. Both of the children were suffering from measles. Joseph and his little son were sleeping on a trundle bed near the front door.
During the night a group of men with black-painted faces burst through the door and dragged the Prophet outside, where they beat him and threw tar on him and Sidney Rigdon.
The most tragic part of this mobbing was that little Joseph was exposed to the night air and caught a severe cold when his father was dragged away. As a result, he died a few days later.2
Those who participated in the Martyrdom of the Prophet and his brother Hyrum also painted their faces to hide their true identities.3

Subject: Dan
Age: 16 years
Event: First prom date
The dance was over. Dan carefully maneuvered his dad’s car out of the high school parking lot. “I thought we’d go out to eat,” he said suavely.
“Great!” his date said. “Where?”
“Of course, because of the prom, many places will be full.”
“How about the Pyrenes?” she suggested. “My parents go there.”
“I’m sure it’ll be full,” Dan answered quickly.
“Okay, how about the Bonanza?”
“That will be full.”
“McDonald’s?” the girl pleaded.
“Full,” Dan answered firmly. “But don’t worry. I know a place that’s never full.”
“What’s it called?” she asked suspiciously.
“Big Alice’s Truck Stop Diner and Reloading Emporium. You get all the hashbrowns you can eat.”
“Oh,” the girl said with disappointment.
The old diner seemed to be leaning into the wind along the nearly deserted section of old highway that had been abandoned with the construction of the interstate. Apparently a few truckers still went out of their way because two large semi-trucks were parked outside.
“My dad gave me ten dollars to take you out to dinner,” Dan said as they pulled to a stop in front of the place, “but, gosh, you could eat here for a week for ten dollars.”
Alice, a huge woman, stood behind the counter with her arms folded and argued politics with two truckers. Dan and his date moved quickly to the other end of the long row of stools along the counter and sat down. In a minute, Big Alice sauntered down to get their order. “Whataya want?”
“Two hamburgers with everything,” Dan said, “plenty of hashbrowns, and a couple of donuts for dessert.”
“Is it okay, what I ordered for you?” Dan asked his date. “My dad said that the guy is supposed to order. It’s etiquette.”
The two truckers and Big Alice continued their argument as she cooked their order.
“You can’t say that!” one trucker argued.
“Well, I’m saying it!” the other trucker roared. “The trouble with people today is that nobody wants to fight! Especially the kids today. They couldn’t fight their way out of a paper bag!”
Suddenly the three looked down the long row of empty stools to Dan and his date.
Dan nervously smiled at them.
In a few minutes, Big Alice brought their food and then left.
The girl carefully examined the hamburger. “The meat’s all greasy,” she complained.
“That used to bother me, too, when I first started eating here,” Dan eagerly explained, “but I learned a little trick.” Grabbing some napkins, he picked up her hamburger patty and blotted it with the napkins. “There,” he said proudly, “how’s that?”
He eagerly ate, but she took a fork and only probed the food with it.
“Aren’t you even going to eat your hashbrowns?” he asked.
“They’re greasy, too.”
“Yeah, but they’re great with catsup.” He picked up the catsup bottle, and in his eagerness, dumped the entire contents on her plate. Some of it splashed on her formal.
“Whoops,” he said apologetically.
“Please,” she said, beginning to cry, “take me home.”
“Okay,” Dan agreed. “Why don’t you take a donut with you in case you get hungry on the way?”__________

Several years ago my wife, Susan, and I had the opportunity to tour the New Zealand Christchurch Mission with President and Sister Melvin Tagg. President Tagg suggested as part of the mission tour we include a preparation day and take a bus trip to see the beautiful Milford Sound. Part of the trip involved stopping at several beautiful scenic sites along the way. At one of those stops, as we walked back to the bus, I became curious about a group of passengers standing in a circle on the road taking photographs. As I peered over the people, I saw in the circle a frightened little baby lamb on wobbly legs. It appeared to be no more than a few hours old. I have seen a lot of sheep in my life since my father-in-law was in the sheep business. Consequently, I had no interest in taking a photograph of a solitary lamb, so I boarded the bus and waited.
After all the passengers finally boarded the bus, the driver picked up the frightened little lamb in his arms, held it tenderly against his chest, and brought it on the bus. He sat down, closed the door, picked up his microphone, and said to us: “Undoubtedly a band of sheep has gone through here this morning, and this little lamb has strayed. Perhaps if we take it with us, we might find the band of sheep farther up the road and return this baby lamb to its mother.”
We drove through several kilometers of beautiful forests and finally came to a beautiful meadow of tall, flowing grass. Sure enough, there in the meadow was a band of sheep feeding. The bus driver stopped the bus and excused himself. We all thought he would put the lamb down on the side of the road and come back, but he didn’t. With the lamb in his arms, he carefully and quietly walked out through the grass toward the band of sheep. When he got as close as he could without disturbing them, he gently put the lamb down and then remained in the field to make sure the baby lamb returned to the fold.
As he returned to the bus, he once again picked up his microphone and said, “Oh, can’t you hear that mother sheep saying, ‘Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you for bringing my lost lamb back home to me!’”

In the October 2018 general conference during the women’s session, President Russell M. Nelson issued some invitations for us to follow.1 One of them was to read the Book of Mormon by the end of the year. Like many of you, I wondered how I would accomplish this. I felt the Spirit urgently tell me that I needed to read as much as possible and quickly.
I gave up my normal books for a few weeks and read the Book of Mormon. Soon, I was nearly finished with Alma.
It was just as well I crammed so much, as something happened to my mum and she became very ill. Then followed lots of trips to the doctors, ambulance call outs and trips to hospital. She was ill for over a year and needed three separate operations. She was so ill we couldn’t attend Church.
Support never came from the sources I or should expect. I think this happens to many of us. I’m grateful I listened to the Spirit about the Book of Mormon. It gave me the strength I needed to endure this extremely stressful time.
The Lord never abandons us or leaves us stranded. He is always there comforting and guiding us. Help is sent sometimes in the form of strangers who we never see again. He never leaves us to cope alone, and reading the Book of Mormon helps us to handle whatever life throws at us.

As a physician, I once had a patient come to me after a routine blood test was out of normal range. In the days between her test and our visit, she had consulted the internet about what the results could mean. When we met, she was upset and worried. I tried to explain the results, but she was still distraught.
“Don’t worry about what could go wrong,” I told her. “That’s my job! It’s what I’m here for. I studied hard to know what to do about this. We’ll get through this together, and if you’ll follow my instructions, you’ll know how to be whole again. Trust me and let me take the burden of medical worries. Then you can focus all your energy on getting better.”
This helped to calm her fears. We made plans to run more tests, and I promised we’d move forward together.

Jonathan sighed as he moved his food around his plate with his fork.
“Paseme la ensalada, por favor,” his sister Jasmine said. Mom passed the salad to Jasmine across the table.
“Muy bien,” said Mom. “You’re getting pretty good at Spanish.”
“I’m sure trying!” Jasmine said. “I’m glad Jonathan is in class with me. I learn a lot by hearing him speak.”
“Thanks,” Jonathan said.
“What? Don’t you mean gracias?” teased Jasmine.
“Sorry, I guess I’m just not in the mood right now,” Jonathan said.
“Is everything OK?” Dad asked.
Jonathan sighed again. “Well, I like Spanish, and our teacher is really nice. But she uses Heavenly Father’s name to swear a lot.”
“Yeah,” Jasmine said. “I’ve noticed that too.”
“It makes me feel sad,” said Jonathan. “I’ve been thinking about talking to her about it.”
“That’s a great idea,” Dad said. “I know Heavenly Father will help you know what to say.”
Later that night, Jonathan prayed about talking to his teacher. He wanted to talk to her about it, but he felt so nervous! What if she got angry? Jonathan asked Heavenly Father to help him talk to his teacher in a good way.
The next morning, Jonathan and Jasmine hurried off to school. Spanish was the first class of the day and went by quickly. Before Jonathan knew it, it was time to pack up his books. The other students started walking to their next class, but Jonathan hung back. Mrs. Gomez was erasing the board.
“Mrs. Gomez?”
“Oh, Jonathan, I didn’t know you were still here,” Mrs. Gomez said, turning around. “Can I help you with something?”
Jonathan said a silent prayer in his heart. Please help me know what to say.
“I wanted to say thanks for being a great Spanish teacher,” Jonathan said. “Jasmine and I are learning a lot, and we even talk to each other in Spanish at home.”
“I’m so glad to hear that,” Mrs. Gomez said.
“There’s just one thing,” said Jonathan. His stomach did a flip-flop.
Mrs. Gomez smiled kindly. “What is it?”
“Sometimes in class you swear with Heavenly Father’s name, and it makes me feel sad.”
Everything was quiet for a second. When Mrs. Gomez spoke, she didn’t sound angry at all. “I’m so glad you told me. I didn’t even realize I was doing that. I will work on not saying that anymore.”
Jonathan’s nervousness melted away. He gave Mrs. Gomez a big smile. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Gomez smiled back at him. “Thank you for having the courage to come talk to me. It’s not easy to talk to a teacher about something like this. But you did it in such a respectful and mature way. I’m proud of you.”
Jonathan felt happy as he walked out of the classroom. It hadn’t been easy to talk to Mrs. Gomez, but Heavenly Father had answered his prayer. The Holy Ghost had helped him know what to say. And maybe Mrs. Gomez had felt the Holy Ghost touch her heart too.
Gracias, Heavenly Father. Jonathan said another prayer in his heart. Muchas gracias.

I remember as a child the stories about the generosity of the American people as they were told by my grandfather as I sat on his lap. With a gentle and broken voice, he explained how our people were saved from starvation at the end of the First World War. My own first vision of this charity came when I saw my first American soldier on his Bren gun carrier the day we were liberated. He handed me a large piece of something to put in my mouth. (I found out much later that this something was called “corned beef”!)

While President David O. McKay served as prophet, seer, and revelator of the Church, he traveled over a million miles throughout the world. He enjoyed meeting with Saints in other countries, and he made friends for the Church among many government leaders.
On one trip in 1952, President McKay and his wife, Emma, were invited to visit with Queen Juliana of the Netherlands in the Soestdijk Palace. During that visit, the McKays showed how they were able to make friends without sacrificing their religious beliefs.
The queen had scheduled half an hour for the visit with President and Sister McKay. The President carefully watched the time. When the half hour was up, he politely thanked the queen and began to leave. “Mr. McKay,” she said, “sit down! I have enjoyed this thirty minutes more than I have enjoyed any thirty minutes in a long time. I just wish you would extend your visit a little longer.”
After more persuasion from her, he sat down again. At that point, a coffee table was wheeled in, and the queen poured three cups of tea, pushing one each to President and Sister McKay. When neither of the McKays began to stir their tea, the queen asked, “Won’t you have a little tea with the queen?”
President McKay politely explained that Latter-day Saints did not believe in drinking stimulants and that they believed tea to be a stimulant.
The queen was very surprised! “I am the queen of the Netherlands,” she said. “Do you mean to tell me you won’t have a little drink of tea, even with the queen of the Netherlands?”
To this, President McKay politely asked, “Would the queen of the Netherlands ask the leader of one million, three hundred thousand people* to do something that he teaches his people not to do?”
The queen smiled and sat back in her chair. “You are a great man, President McKay,” she told him. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

Melissa tells of an experience at school. “In my home economics class we were learning how to make tea. I had to explain to the teacher that it’s part of our religion to keep our bodies healthy, and that I couldn’t drink that kind of tea because there are bad things in it. Everyone was surprised when she gave me special permission to make herbal tea separately from the rest of the class, and I got to tell a lot of people about the Word of Wisdom.”

My beloved wife, Jeanene, loved doing family history research. When our children were young, she would trade babysitting time with friends so she could have a few hours every few weeks to work on researching our family lines. After our youngest child left home, she recorded in her personal journal: “I have just made a decision and I want to stand up and shout about it. Mike’s old bedroom has become my genealogy workroom. It is well equipped to organize the records and work in. My life will now focus on vital family research and temple name submissions. I am so excited and anxious to get going.”

Another journal entry reads: “The … miracle for me occurred in the Family History office of Mel Olsen, who presented me with a printout of all my known ancestral pedigrees taken from the update of the Ancestral File computerized records sent into the genealogical society. They came mostly from the records of the four-generation program the Church called for many years ago. I had been overwhelmed with the thought of the huge task ahead of me to gather all my ancestors’ research records from family organizations to get them all in the computer for the first computerized distribution of the Ancestral File. And there they all were, beautiful, organized, and laser printed and sitting there on the desk before me. I was so thrilled and so overwhelmed I just sat there stunned and then began to cry, I was so happy. … For one who has doggedly, painstakingly researched for thirty years, the computerization of all these records is truly exciting. And when I think of the hundreds of thousands of people who are now or soon will be computerizing huge blocks of censuses and private research disks, … I am so excited. It is truly the Lord’s work and He is directing it.”