Gospel Story Finder

When Shawn was 15, he and a friend attended a prestigious national basketball camp with 120 of the best high school players in the United States. A new friend talking with the two Utah players had some pretty wild 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. “Yeah, we go to school with them. We see them all the time. Mormons are 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, that kid started asking more about the Church and our ideals. He couldn’t believe we wouldn’t have sex until after we were married, and that we wouldn’t drink and stuff. It was a heavy-duty discussion for 15-year-olds.
“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.”

In the general Relief Society meeting of September 2006, President Gordon B. Hinckley related an experience shared by a divorced single mother of seven children then ranging in ages from 7 to 16. She had gone across the street to deliver something to a neighbor. She said:

“As I turned around to walk back home, I could see my house lighted up. I could hear echoes of my children as I had walked out of the door a few minutes earlier. They were saying: ‘Mom, what are we going to have for dinner?’ ‘Can you take me to the library?’ ‘I have to get some poster paper tonight.’ Tired and weary, I looked at that house and saw the light on in each of the rooms. I thought of all of those children who were home waiting for me to come and meet their needs. My burdens felt heavier than I could bear.

“I remember looking through tears toward the sky, and I said, ‘Dear Father, I just can’t do it tonight. I’m too tired. I can’t face it. I can’t go home and take care of all those children alone. Could I just come to You and stay with You for just one night? …’

“I didn’t really hear the words of reply, but I heard them in my mind. The answer was: ‘No, little one, you can’t come to me now. … But I can come to you.’”2

“Turn on your lights”—Sister Sharon Eubank’s message for October 2017—was the theme of our stake Relief Society activity for this year 2018.
The purpose was to unite sisters, increase their self-­worth, and enlighten their minds toward ministering and temple preparation.
All were excited. The preparations from the stake activity committee began. They started planning, organizing, and assigning sisters for the activity.
We were five wards and one branch, which was a big number to coordinate. Each ward’s sisters were assigned with a topic to present on the day of activity with a skit or presentation.
And these were the topics covered:
Being righteous
Being articulate/different/distinct
Being happy
Preparing for the temple
Being self-reliant
Ministering/the worth of souls
Each ward started preparing for their presentation on the activity day. The long wait came to an end.
?It was a beautiful morning. When the activity began, there were not as many sisters as was expected. However, they began with an opening hymn and prayer. And slowly more sisters started coming in. There was a message from the stake Relief Society president. She displayed different kinds of lights and explained about each light, comparing it with the qualities of the sisters. It was a beautiful message.
Then the actual part of the sisters came. It was time for them to showcase or present their topics.
Here I would like to talk about the dedication and the commitment of one group of sisters of a small branch of another city which belongs to our stake. They had to travel two-and-half to three hours to join the activity. They began with the presentation of being righteous women. They were indeed righteous women by example.
Each group of sisters came forward and presented their topics in the form of skits. Every one of them had put in a lot of effort to convey the message in a spiritual way and with a little bit of humor.
We all laughed and enjoyed ourselves, but in the end of each presentation, we were touched by the Spirit for the messages they carried about how to be happy always, how to be articulate and different, how to be self-reliant, and how to prepare for the temple.
It was amazing to see how the sisters joined hands together, both young and old, in acting it out. Lastly it was concluded by the testimonies of a few sisters who strengthened ours for their commitment to the gospel.
We all were given a framed picture of lights to remind us to turn on lights that we have and give light to others and also to help others to turn on theirs as well. Along with it was a reminder of the four things President Nelson challenged the sisters to do during the last general conference.
On the whole, the activity was great! The stake Relief Society presidency had planned very hard to put all this together for us to learn and enjoy at the same time. They even had to work till midnight to pack those gifts for the sisters. We could see and feel the love and dedication they had for all of us and they turned on their lights. The sisters from the KGF Branch were different and articulate by setting an example of traveling so far to show how much they loved the Lord.

Isaac could tell that his Primary class was almost over, because he could hear people moving around outside the door. Sure enough, his teacher asked someone to say the prayer.
As soon as he said, “Amen,” Isaac stood up and hurried to the door. He liked his Primary class, but he was always eager to see his mom and dad and little brother, Luke. Before he could open the door, however, his teacher said, “Isaac, would you come here for a minute, please?”
“Sure,” Isaac answered as Sister Nelson called a few more children over to her chair. Sister Nelson held out some little pieces of paper to him and the others. “Will you please give a talk in opening exercises next week?” she asked him.
“Oh, OK.” Isaac was five now, so he could see that his name was written on the paper with a lot of other words. He didn’t try to read them—he was sure they just said stuff about his talk. He had said yes because he always tried to do what his teacher wanted him to do, but he was scared to talk to the whole Primary. He knew that even the youngest children took turns giving talks, scriptures, and prayers, but he couldn’t remember doing any of those before.
He thought about the talks other children had given. Sometimes children read stories for talks, but Isaac couldn’t read that well yet. Some of the other talks were so hard to understand that he forgot to even listen. He couldn’t imagine what kind of a talk he could give when he was only five!
“Oh well,” he said to himself, “maybe she’ll forget she asked me.” He stood in the doorway and soon saw his mom and Luke coming toward him from the nursery room. “Hi, Mom!” he said, giving her a big hug.
“What’s this?” Mom asked, taking the paper out of his hand. “Wow! You get to give a talk next week.”
Isaac tried to smile, and he nodded his head a little. Maybe Mom would forget too, he hoped.
On the way home, Mom told Dad about Isaac’s talk. “How exciting!” Dad said. “We’ll be sure to come hear you, Isaac. Do you want Mom or me to help you give your talk?”
Somebody could help him with his talk? He suddenly felt a lot better about it. “Mom, I guess,” he said.
“OK,” Mom answered. “We’ll start working on it soon.”
Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday went by, and Isaac forgot all about the talk. But on Wednesday, Mom said, “Isaac, let’s get your Primary talk ready!”
“Oh, no!” he said to himself. “She remembered.” He walked slowly over to where Mom sat holding a pen and notebook. His stomach felt funny. “I don’t really want to give a talk, Mom. I don’t know how, and I’m scared.”
“It will be all right. Let’s just talk about it for a minute.” Mom put her arm around his shoulders. “Your talk is supposed to be about faith in Jesus Christ. What do you think faith is?”
Isaac remembered his Primary teacher talking about faith, and Mom and Dad talking about it in family home evening. But he was pretty sure he didn’t know enough about it to give a whole talk. “Is it like praying and keeping the commandments?” he asked, his forehead wrinkled with worry.
Mom wrote something in the notebook. “Sure,” she said. “Why do we pray and keep the commandments?”
“Because Jesus and Heavenly Father want us to.” That was an easy question.
Mom wrote something else down in the notebook. “What happens to your faith when you pray and keep the commandments?”
“It grows.” He remembered his teacher saying that choosing the right helps your faith grow.
“How do you feel when it grows, Isaac? How do you feel when you pray and keep the commandments?”
“Happy!” Isaac wished it was as easy to give a talk about faith as it was to talk with his mom about it.
“Just a few more questions,” Mom said. “Do you believe in Jesus Christ?” When he nodded, Mom asked, “Why?”
“Because the scriptures say He lives.” Isaac had a nice feeling inside when he talked about Jesus. He could feel Jesus loving him. He smiled and leaned against his mom while she wrote.
Suddenly Mom surprised him by saying, “OK! You’ve finished writing your talk! Now let’s practice giving it.”
On Sunday morning, Isaac stepped carefully to the front of the Primary room. He unfolded the paper his mom had written on when she asked him questions. His answers were his talk! He had practiced giving it to Dad a few times. Now Mom moved to his side and began whispering the questions he had answered before. Isaac gave his talk in his very own words:
“Faith in Jesus Christ means praying and keeping the commandments. We pray and keep the commandments because Heavenly Father and Jesus want us to. When we do, our faith grows. I feel happy when I pray and keep the commandments, and my faith grows. I believe in Jesus Christ because the scriptures say He lives. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
He saw Dad smile at him from the back of the room, and everyone was quiet—they had been listening! When he walked past his teacher, he saw that she was happy. He felt really good inside. He had given a talk that was really his, and he was sure that Jesus was happy about it too!

I would like to tell you an event in my life which I think typifies what is going through my mind and has gone through my mind the last few weeks. The event started with a phone call from a Mr. Marion T. Romney. My secretary came to me in a meeting, and she said, “A Marion T. Romney wants to talk to you.”
I said, “I think that’s Marion G. Romney.”
“He said you would leave this meeting if I told you that he was calling you.”
I said, “He’s right.”
I think my secretary would like to have told his secretary that I would call back. But I went to the phone, and Brother Romney asked me five questions. He asked me if I would go on a mission; he asked me if I was worthy; he was concerned about my 17-year-old son, my finances, and my health.
I will tell you this, something I learned long ago: It is a question of free agency. On any one of those five questions, had I had to give a no I would have lost my free agency. I was financially able, I was morally able, and I knew the law of consecration and what it meant; and I appreciated the opportunity.
I called my wife immediately afterward and then went home. I talked with my wife, as Elder L. Tom Perry talked with his wife. We have married similar spirits. She has followed me all over the world. We have moved 15 times. She has learned two languages, brought up our children, and has always supported me.
I remember one time after coming back from an international trip. I had been gone for some time. My wife sat down on the arm of the chair, and I put my head on her shoulder. It was near the end of the month, and she asked me if I had completed my home teaching. I will be honest; I had other things in mind. But I went and did my home teaching. That is her training. So it was; I was beginning to learn the law of consecration.
A few weeks later the phone rang again. This time it was a man whom I have greatly admired—Brother Arthur Haycock. I spoke to him briefly; and then, the prophet’s voice—distinctive, clear, the clarion call.
“Brother Hales, do you mind if we change your mission?”
I had thought I was going to the London England Mission. But I figured someone else would have that call, and I said, “I will be glad to go to whatever place you send me.”
He said, “Do you mind if we change it to Salt Lake City?”
And I said, “No, that will be fine, President.”
“Do you mind if it is little bit longer than three years?”
“However long you want it, President.”
“We would like a lifetime of service.”
The past 20 years swept before me. I felt like the man who had fallen off a precipice, who was grabbing on to a limb which was giving way slowly, and who cried fervently in a prayer, “Save me!” And as he looked down to the rocks far below, a voice came clear and strong: “Let go, and you will be protected.” At that, the man looked up in the air again and said, “Is somebody else up there?”
The call was clear. I had to let go of everything that I had known and what I had been striving for in my life to become an Assistant to the Twelve.
I have learned from Joseph Fielding Smith, and have talked to young people, about the law of consecration. It is not one particular event; it is a lifetime, day by day, in which we all strive to do our best that we might live honorable lives, that we might live the best we can in the service of others, as President Joseph Fielding Smith talked about—not as his grandfather, Hyrum Smith, gave his life when he was with the Prophet, but giving our lives each day.
With that, the prophet talked to my wife. We held each other in our arms and said nothing, and we knew that we had and that we would dedicate and consecrate our lives to that mission, whatever it might be, in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We asked our questions which Elder Ashton taught us: “Why me?” And that is past us.
I will say this: It is not in death or in one event that we give our lives, but in every day as we are asked to do it.
In the Regional Representative work, I have been able, over the past five years, to have the hardening of the steel—to watch and work with these men who have been called as special witnesses of God, that they might know and teach and train the priesthood holders with whom they deal.
Do you realize that these men have revelation every Sunday when a stake is formed? As a Regional Representative assisting and kneeling in prayer with them as they give voice through the Spirit, one is able to participate in knowing that God lives, that Jesus is the Christ, that we have a prophet of God who is here this day, and that we have special witnesses who will lead and guide us, if we will but listen to their voice.
I ask the Lord in prayer that I might be able to be an example to help lift others, as these men have been over the years. My 17-year-old son said to me, “Dad, do you think, really, you will ever be like them?”
He said it in a little nicer way, but I thought of my life which I dedicate and give and consecrate, that I might be an instrument in His hand, working under the direction of all the General Authorities and asking their help that we might work as one.
I dedicate my life and service, and as Paul declared in First Corinthians, “And my speech and preaching was not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power:
“That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God.” (1 Cor. 2:4–5.)
I ask the Lord’s blessings upon all those who have made this day possible for me: my Primary and Sunday School teachers; a mother and father who are truly “goodly parents,” who have taught me and who have been an example for my whole life; my brother and sister have always been examples for me to follow with their faith and service in the Church; my wife and my boys—my son on a mission, Stephen, and David, who is here in Salt Lake with me now. They are a great strength to me.
I ask the Lord’s blessings, that I might be one in purpose with the Twelve and with all the General Authorities, and with you, my brothers and sisters; and I say to the priesthood holders that any one of you could be here this day. One cannot ask the question “Why me?” and dwell on it. But I will do as the prophet has said, to put behind me my past life and dedicate and consecrate all my time, talents, and efforts to His work. And I say this in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

I decided to pray about it. I asked the Lord if he could tell me why we were always fighting and if he could stick with me through it all, so I could be a better family member. Soon I was doing a little bit better. I controlled my temper. I gave more to other family members, and I tried to develop better relationships with them. You know, Heavenly Father is there whenever you need him.
Karen Thomas, 13Orem, Utah

How was school?
Not that great.
You look exhausted. How much sleep did you get last night, and what did you eat for lunch?
I’d really like you to take better care of yourself, Nico—and so would Heavenly Father. Try going to bed earlier and eating healthier foods. You’ll feel better—physically and mentally.
Hm. Maybe Mom’s right about taking care of myself. I should give it a try.
How was school, Nico?
It was great!

I met Megan when my family moved into our new house. She lived down the street, and we were both in Sister Crawford’s Primary class. We became friends and played together a lot. I watched Megan closely, trying to remember how she told a joke or how she fixed her hair or how she talked to other kids so easily. I thought Megan was perfect. I was shy. I wanted to be like Megan.
One day I called Megan to see if she wanted to play. She didn’t say anything at first.
“Caitlin is already over here,” she finally said.
Caitlin was in our Primary class too. I waited for Megan to invite me over, but she didn’t. Her end of the line was quiet.
“Oh. OK,” I stammered. Megan hung up without saying anything else.
That Sunday in Primary, Sister Crawford asked us, “What does it mean to be a good friend?”
I smiled at Megan, but she didn’t see me. She turned the other way and whispered to Caitlin. Suddenly Caitlin laughed out loud.
“Please quiet down, girls,” Sister Crawford said. They stopped whispering, but their shoulders trembled with giggles. Sister Crawford turned to me. “Angie, what do you think makes a good friend?”
“Well, someone who is nice and likes to play with you and—”
Megan and Caitlin giggled louder. My face got hot, and I looked at the floor. Were they laughing at me?
Sister Crawford frowned at them, then smiled at me. “That’s right, Angie,” she said. She looked around at the class. “How can you be a good friend?”
Adam raised his hand. “We can help people,” he said.
Sister Crawford nodded. “A good friend wants to help and serve others. Jesus Christ taught that when He lived on the earth. He also taught us that we should be kind to everyone.”
I looked at Megan and smiled at her. She didn’t smile back. I felt an empty spot in my chest. Didn’t Megan like me anymore?
At the end of the lesson, Sister Crawford held up a small basket. “I have something for you,” she said. She reached into the basket and showed us colorful strings that had been tied in small circles. “These are friendship bracelets. You wear it on your wrist, and whenever you look at it you can remember to be a good friend.”
Maybe friendship bracelets would help! Maybe Megan and I could get matching bracelets. As the basket went around the class, I leaned toward Megan. “What color are you going to get?” I asked her.
Megan shrugged. “Maybe a yellow one.”
“Me too,” I said.
Caitlin chose a blue bracelet. Then she passed the basket to Megan. Megan fingered a few bracelets, then pulled out a blue one too. I stared at her. Blue? She quickly handed me the basket. I stared into it, not knowing what to do. There were only yellow bracelets left. I slowly pulled one out.
Megan and Caitlin giggled and held out their arms side by side, admiring their matching blue bracelets. I felt a lump rise in my throat. Tears stung my eyes. I clenched my teeth together to keep from crying. I was not going to cry in front of them.
I threw myself into Mom’s arms as soon as we got home from church. “What’s wrong, honey?” Mom asked as I started to cry. Through my tears I told her what had happened. She sat next to me on my bed and held me close. “I’m sorry, Angie,” she said.
“Doesn’t Megan want to be my friend anymore?” I asked.
Mom stroked my hair. “Sometimes we don’t know why people do certain things,” she said. “I’m sorry that happened.”
“Sister Crawford said today that we should try to be kind to everyone, like Jesus was. But I don’t want to be kind to Megan.”
“I understand,” Mom said. “But I also agree with Sister Crawford. It might be hard, but we should try to be kind even if someone hurts our feelings. Jesus taught us to forgive others.”
“How can I do that?” I asked. I thought of the way Megan and Caitlin had laughed, and I felt that empty feeling again.
Mom pointed to a figurine of a girl kneeling in prayer that I kept on my nightstand. “Whenever someone hurts my feelings, I ask Heavenly Father to help me forgive that person. I ask Him to soften my heart and the other person’s heart.”
“Does it work?” I asked.
Mom smiled and kissed the top of my head. “I always feel better when I’ve talked to Heavenly Father,” she said.
When I said my prayers that night I thanked Heavenly Father for the friendship I had with Megan. Then I asked Him to help me forgive her. I scrunched up my eyes and thought hard. “Please help Megan and me be friends again,” I said.
I prayed for those things for the next few days. On Saturday I was swinging on our swing set when Megan came up our walk. I stopped swinging. We looked at each other but didn’t say anything. Finally Megan reached out and put something in my hand.
“This is for you,” she said. I opened my hand and saw a blue friendship bracelet.
“Do you want to play?” Megan asked. “Caitlin is coming over to my house. We’re going to pretend we’re princesses, and Noodle is going to be the queen.”
Noodle was Megan’s gray-striped cat. I giggled, picturing Noodle wearing a crown. I felt the empty spot inside shrinking. “Yes, I’d like to come over,” I said. “Thanks.”
I smiled at her, and this time Megan smiled back.

How well I remember the challenges confronting the youth in the ward over which I once presided.
One evening a lovely teenage girl came to the office with her boyfriend to talk things over with me. The two of them were very much in love, and temptation was beginning to make its inroad.
As we counseled together, my young friends each made a pledge to the other to resist temptation and keep uppermost in their minds the goal of a temple marriage. I suggested a course of action to follow and then felt impressed to say: “If you ever find yourselves in a position of compromise and need additional strength, you call me regardless of the hour.”
Early one morning at one o’clock, the telephone rang and a voice said: “Bishop, this is Nancy. Remember how you asked me to call if I found myself being tempted? Well, Bishop, I’m in that situation.” I asked where she was, and she described one of the more popular moon-watching spots in the Salt Lake Valley. She and her fiancé had walked to a nearby phone booth to make the call. The setting wasn’t ideal for providing counsel, but the need was great and the young couple was receptive.
Months later, when the mailman delivered her wedding announcement to our home and Sister Monson read, “Mr. and Mrs. __________ request the pleasure of your company at the wedding reception of their daughter, Nancy,” she sighed, “Thank heaven! No more 1:00 A.M. telephone calls.” When I noticed the small print at the bottom which read, “Married in the Salt Lake Temple,” I said silently, “Thank heaven for the strength of Latter-day Saint youth!”
Choose your friends with caution.

Where’s José Luis?
That’s what I wanted to know. I’d heard so much about the energetic 18-year-old, and I only had a few minutes to interview him on that hot Sunday in Seville, Spain.
“I think he’s in Sunday School with one of our investigators,” said a tall, North American missionary as he hurried his way through the crowd in the halls of the Nervion meetinghouse.
“He’s always with our investigators,” said the missionary’s shorter companion, trotting to keep up. “That guy is one sharp mission leader. He keeps all the full-time missionaries on the ball. He just goes crazy over missionary work.”
Before I could ask which class José Luis might be in, the missionaries had disappeared into the colorful throng. The church was packed, and everyone seemed excited to be there.
Across the foyer I spotted Marcos Camacho. Marcos is José Luis’s home teaching companion. “Marcos, where’s José Luis?” I called.
“He might be preparing our home teaching lesson,” Marcos told me as he threaded his way through the large group of people between us. “He’s very good about it. We always get our home teaching done, and the people we visit really like him. Oh look—here comes his mother. Maybe she knows where he is. Ask her,” he said as he ran off to teach the Young Men.
His mother? What was she doing here? I’d heard she was against his church activity and had prohibited him from coming to the chapel. Now here was this lady, all smiles, soft curls, and a perky pink dress, coming toward me.
“Hi there,” I said as she approached me. “I’m looking for your son, but I’m really happy to see you. I’d heard you were not excited about your son’s coming to church. It looks like your attitude has changed?”
“But it wasn’t quite that easy, Mom,” said José Luis, popping up behind her, seemingly out of nowhere and putting his arm around her shoulder.
So finally I got to meet this legendary guy. He’s taller than his mother, medium height, with thick, straight dark hair and a perpetual smile. You can tell he’s from southern Spain, Andalucia, by his accent and his vocabulary. Even though he’s famous here for being a gospel dynamo, there is absolutely nothing intimidating about him. He’s about as humble as you can get.
“I know that Christ lives and that Heavenly Father always listens to us and loves us,” José Luis said, simply and sincerely. “I want everyone else to know that too. Will you excuse me for just a minute? I’m supposed to be helping a friend with a lesson,” he said, and he was off.
So for all of about five minutes, I could have answered the question, “Where’s José Luis?” But if you asked me right now, I could probably make an educated guess.
“Where’s José Luis?”
He’s out doing what he can to build the kingdom. And that’s a great place to be.

I remember other Mexican Saints who, because floods had destroyed their crops, were fearful that they would not be able to attend the conference but who, after fasting and prayer, sold some of their belongings and pooled their money for transportation. For many there was no money left for food, but it did not matter. They decided they could fast for the three or four days of the conference. As you would expect, other loving Saints filled their plates as the Lord had filled their souls.

Olá! My name is Alice, and I try to SHINE MY LIGHT by SHOWING GRATITUDE!
I live in Brazil with my parents and sister and brother. My sister, Julia, and I play the piano for sacrament meeting in our ward.
One Sunday, a man named Brother Stahlke gave us a present. He said it was a gift to thank us for the music we played on Sundays. When we opened the box, we found a special kind of flute inside! I put the flute together and started playing. I was enchanted by the sound.
Soon I started playing hymns on the flute. I wanted to do something to thank Brother Stahlke for the gift. So I practiced the hymn “How Great the Wisdom and the Love” (Hymns, no. 195). I asked my dad to take me to Brother Stahlke’s house so I could show him that his gift helped me discover a new talent.
When I played for Brother Stahlke, he was very happy and emotional. He told me that he had a dream about this hymn the night before! I felt the love of God for him and for me.
When we show gratitude, the Lord blesses us with happy feelings from the Holy Ghost.

William W. Phelps, who was close to the Prophet Joseph, betrayed him in 1838, which led to Joseph’s incarceration in Missouri. Recognizing the great evil of the thing he had done, Brother Phelps wrote to the Prophet, asking forgiveness. The Prophet replied in part as follows:
“It is true, that we have suffered much in consequence of your behavior—the cup of gall, already full enough for mortals to drink, was indeed filled to overflowing when you turned against us. …
“However, the cup has been drunk, the will of our Father has been done, and we are yet alive, for which we thank the Lord. …
“Believing your confession to be real, and your repentance genuine, I shall be happy once again to give you the right hand of fellowship, and rejoice over the returning prodigal.
“Your letter was read to the Saints last Sunday, and an expression of their feeling was taken, when it was unanimously Resolved, That W. W. Phelps should be received into fellowship.
“‘Come on, dear brother, since the war is past,
“‘For friends at first, are friends again at last’” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, sel. Joseph Fielding Smith [1976], 165–66).

The house was a raging inferno.

“It’s no use,” the fire chief muttered, watching the flames leap high into the air. “Pull back!” he shouted. The fire crew moved back from the searing heat.

“Help!” a girl suddenly cried out from a second floor window.

“Oh no,” the fire chief mourned.

The girl’s parents, who had just returned from a movie, were quickly ushered over to the fire chief.

“Help me!” the girl shouted.

“Please save our daughter,” the mother pleaded.

“I can’t ask any of my men to go into that tinder box now—it’d be suicide.”

Randy stepped from the crowd. “Don’t worry, I’ll save your daughter.”

Before anyone could stop him, he ran toward the house, paying only slight attention to the crowd’s horrified gasp as he rushed into the flames.

It’s a good thing I’m wearing this action jacket, he thought as he kicked the door down. Inside, the stairs were still intact, although fire was licking through several of the steps. He covered his face with the jacket and bounded up the stairs.

On the second floor landing, because the jacket was still over his face, he tripped over a tricycle in the hall, but quickly recovered and hurried to her room.

He opened the door and saw her. She was in one of his classes in high school. She had long hair and nice eyes, although for some reason he couldn’t make out any details of her face. Maybe it’s the smoke, he thought.

She threw her arms around him. “I knew you’d come,” she cried.

A loud crash shook the house.

“What was that?” she cried.

“The staircase caving in,” he said calmly.

“How will we ever get out?”

He thought for a second then said, “I have a plan.”

Running to what was left of the hall, he grabbed the tricycle and hurried back to the room. He pulled an adjustable wrench from his jacket pocket and undid the front wheel. Then he kicked out the rubber from the wheel, leaving just the metal rim.

“Anyone else in the house?”

“No—my brother is spending the night at our uncle’s house.”

He hurried to the window and kicked out the screen and looked out. Just as he had noticed earlier—a telephone cable ran from the street pole to within a foot of the window. He leaned out, placing the rim of the wheel over the cable, then asked her to hand him the rest of the tricycle, which he refastened upside down onto the wheel again, the forked brace holding the wheel rim in place on the cable.

It was ready. He motioned for her to climb next to him on the window ledge. Putting one arm around her waist and holding onto the handle bar with the other, he jumped out into space.

They rolled gently down the telephone cable like a miniature cable car, leaving the house just before it broke apart. The crowd below roared its approval.

“Oh, Randy, you’re wonderful,” she sighed, hugging him.

A minute later they were on the ground, surrounded by a TV news crew and several newspaper reporters.

A newsman from the TV station stepped forward, microphone in hand, and asked the question on everyone’s mind.

“Hey, kid, whataya think you’re doing?”

That’s not the right question, Randy thought.

He looked again at the reporter. Somehow he had changed into a store clerk.

…

As he walked home, he began to think.

The house was a raging inferno.

“Help!” Michelle cried out from a second-floor window …

For Gabby and Ethan Quesne, getting an eternal marriage was a very long, and sometimes frustrating, journey.
Below is their story and their thoughts on marriage as they experienced it in 2020:
We met at a church ball back in 2016. We can’t say that it was love at first sight because Ethan forgot who I was after that! Shortly after, we rekindled our relationship at institute and sparks flew. We pretty much saw each other four days a week after that. We then got engaged in May 2018. We knew we wanted to be with each other forever pretty quickly because of how well we got on and how much we laughed with each other. Marriage at some point was pretty much a no-brainer.
Ethan and I both want an eternal family unit and want to have children and raise them to be good, kind and thoughtful people. To us, marriage is a great way to bring about that family stability. I guess we have been preparing since our youth by trying to be good, kind people ourselves, being inspired by our parents and grandparents.
Our journey to marriage became a bit challenging when I finished university and job stability was uncertain. Then the pandemic hit, and no one could have seen that coming! We had to move our wedding from March 2020 to September 2020 and we were even unsure at some points whether the September 2020 date would go ahead with everything in the world changing so rapidly, but luckily, it did and we are happily married now. It may not have been the big day as originally planned, but it was perfect, and we are both so glad that we are now married and can start our own little family as husband and wife.
For people thinking about eternal marriage, I would say wait till you find the right person. You are going to be with this person for a long time so make sure you pick someone with the same values and morals and don’t rush it if it doesn’t feel right. Pray and work on yourself as that will help you find the perfect eternal companion for you later down the line.

I asked him what stood out in his mind as the singular moment in President Monson’s ministry. I expected him to mention the meeting in Görlitz, the dedication of the country in 1975, the organization of the first stake, the dedication of the Freiberg Temple, or the meeting with Herr Honecker, East Germany’s highest Communist official, when President Monson asked permission for missionaries to enter the country and other missionaries to leave the country to serve in other lands. Given the death squads that patrolled the wall, the query sounded almost ludicrous, but Herr Honecker responded, “We have watched you all these years, and we trust you. Permission granted.” Which one of these events would Brother Burkhardt choose?

Tears began to flow down his cheeks as he responded: “It was December 2, 1979.” I couldn’t register in my mind a major event attached to that date. “Tell me about it,” I said.

“It was the day President Monson came to East Germany to give my wife, Inge, a blessing.” President Monson had a weekend without an assignment, and he flew from the United States to Germany for just that purpose. Sister Burkhardt had been in the hospital for nine weeks with complications from surgery, and her condition was deteriorating. President Monson had recorded in his journal, “We joined our faith and our prayers in providing her a blessing.”8 He had gone thousands of miles with his only free time in months—to the rescue.

As a bishop, I worried about any members who were inactive, not attending, not serving. Such was my thought as I drove down the street where Ben and Emily lived. They were older—even in the twilight period of life. Aches and pains of advancing years caused them to withdraw from activity to the shelter of their home—isolated, detached, shut out from the mainstream of daily life and association.
I felt the unmistakable prompting to park my car and visit Ben and Emily, even though I was on the way to a meeting. It was a sunny weekday afternoon. I approached the door to their home and knocked. Emily answered. When she recognized me, her bishop, she exclaimed, “All day long I have waited for my phone to ring. It has been silent. I hoped that the postman would deliver a letter. He brought only bills. Bishop, how did you know today was my birthday?”
I answered, “God knows, Emily, for He loves you.”
In the quiet of the living room, I said to Ben and Emily, “I don’t know why I was directed here today, but our Heavenly Father knows. Let’s kneel in prayer and ask Him why.” This we did, and the answer came. Emily was asked to sing in the choir—even to provide a solo for the forthcoming ward conference. Ben was asked to speak to the Aaronic Priesthood young men and recount a special experience in his life when his safety was assured by responding to the promptings of the Spirit. She sang. He spoke. Hearts were gladdened by the return to activity of Ben and Emily. They rarely missed a sacrament meeting from that day to the time each was called home. The language of the Spirit had been spoken. It had been heard. It had been understood. Hearts were touched and lives saved.

I began to see changes occurring in my students as they demonstrated a belief in themselves, completing Elder Bednar’s first step, offering yourself. Their regular attendance created a support system among each other which demonstrated their love for each other. I witnessed the third step, loyalty, from sister Isabel Morel who came every week to support her niece and a friend. Although sister Morel had never played piano during our class, I somehow felt that she knew how to play.
The following week, Sister Morel explained that she knew how to play the piano and she felt prompted to offer her assistance and would be interested in assisting with the class if I needed her. She was another answer to my prayers. Her willingness to act, by offering to share her talent, selflessly serve and love her niece and her friend, were all steps taken towards being more fully converted to our Father in Heaven and His Son, Jesus Christ.

I grew up in Coronel, Chile. When I was seven years old, I memorized a poem of fourteen verses and recited it before an audience of twelve hundred people. After that experience, I developed an increased desire to read more. I read about four little books a week. At that time my mother gave me a Bible. When I was twelve, I read the Bible in about ten months. I was impressed with the history of the Old Testament, and with the Atonement of the Savior in the New Testament. All my life I tried to find another book of scripture that would teach me more about these things.
When I started meeting with the missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, they used a spectacular way to motivate me to read the Book of Mormon. Whenever I had a question, they opened it and read the answer from it. I wondered what kind of book it was. Finally they asked me if I wouldn’t like to read the book. I said, “Yes, I would!” They gave me a Book of Mormon as a gift, and I was extremely glad. I read it in three weeks and was very impressed with its teachings. At the end of that time, I was baptized into the Church. I have a great testimony about the influence of the scriptures in the life of a person.
My wife, Blanca, and I have three children and six grandchildren. We love our children and all children. One of the greatest expressions of love for children that I have seen occurred when I was serving as a stake president in Chile. President Spencer W. Kimball visited Chile for an area conference. Members of the Church from four countries met together in a stadium that held about fifteen thousand people. We asked President Kimball what he would like to do after the conference. His eyes full of tears, he said, “I would like to see the children.” One of the priesthood leaders announced over the microphone that President Kimball would like to shake the hands or bless each of the children in the stadium. The people were astounded—there was a great silence. President Kimball greeted about two thousand children one by one, crying as he shook their hands or kissed them or put his hands on their heads and blessed them. The children were very reverent and looked at him and cried too. He said he’d never felt this kind of spirit in his life. It was a tremendous moment in the lives of all the Church members there. We felt closer to our children, too, because of this experience with President Kimball.
I love President Gordon B. Hinckley very much. He called me to be a Seventy in 1990. I was the first Chilean called as a General Authority. It was a beautiful moment in my life. However, when I was called, I didn’t speak any English. President Hinckley, who was then First Counselor in the First Presidency, blessed me when he set me apart that I would learn English quickly.
I have two gifts that helped me to learn English quickly. My first gift is a good memory. That has been my salvation in many jobs. The other gift is my persistence. If I have a job to do, I work and work at it until it’s done. When I began to learn English at age fifty-two, I studied it five hours a day, when I had time. I listened to audio tapes every morning, then studied grammar for an hour, which was difficult for me. After that, I read the conference talks in English and listened to them on tape at the same time. I memorized about ten new vocabulary words per day. Then I read aloud in English to practice pronunciation, and I listened to English on an international news station so that I could test my understanding of what was said.
Six months after being called as a General Authority, I prepared intensely for giving my first general conference talk in English. My talk was on the Word of Wisdom.
I have had experiences with seven prophets of the Church, from President David O. McKay until now. They have all been great leaders. Now it is a blessing for the Church to have the presence of President Hinckley. It is easy to love him and to express our love to him. He is very warm with us, and he loves us.
I am grateful for all you marvelous children in the Church, and I ask you to follow Jesus Christ, our beloved Leader.

Hi! My name is Juan Bautista, and I’m from Argentina. I shine my light by sharing the gospel.
My best friend Facundo and I have known each other since we were five. We both love football! I invited him to a lot of Church activities.
Once when Facundo was having dinner with us, he asked, “Why does your family always pray?” I said it’s because Heavenly Father blesses us, and this is how we thank Him. He was amazed!
Facundo came to a family home evening when my brother Benjamin was getting ready for baptism. Facundo felt the Spirit, and he asked if he could get baptized too! My father then talked to Facundo’s parents.
The missionaries taught Facundo’s family. Then Facundo and his sister Augustine both got baptized! His parents come to church, but they haven’t been baptized yet.
Facundo asked my mom if he would ever know as much as I do about God. She smiled and said that if he studies his scriptures and prays, he could learn even more!