Gospel Story Finder

It was now possible to think about organizing a trip to the temple for the members of the Reykjavík Branch. There was much preparing to be done—in addition to becoming worthy for temple recommends, branch members had to do genealogical research to find family names, and they had to save money for the trip. When whole families were planning to go, this became a sizable amount!

“There was a wonderful excitement, an extra amount of love and care shown among the members as they prepared for this experience,” recalls district president Ólafur Einarsson. “It brought a feeling of unity to the branch that we had not felt before.”

The necessary preparations were completed, and 38 members of the Reykjavík Branch—adults and children—journeyed to the London Temple in June 1995. For a week, they devoted themselves to the work of the Lord. “It was an unforgettable experience to see the joy on the faces of our group as the Spirit touched our hearts,” recalls one branch member. “The love and kindness we felt toward one another continued to grow as we shared the joy of our temple experiences.” They returned to their homes and families with strengthened testimonies and a renewed love of the gospel.

As the Church becomes stronger, the saga of the Saints in Iceland continues. In June 1996—still filled with memories of their experiences the previous year—some of the members of the Reykjavík Branch made a second trip to the London Temple. There, they once again were blessed to participate in holy ordinances as they renewed their covenants with the Lord—in the language of their Viking ancestors.

Knowing how to organize a service project, plan a youth conference, or work with the service and activities committee isn’t going to be a problem for the youths of the Pleasant Hill Ward, Walnut Creek California Stake. A day-long leadership conference for class presidencies, advisers, and the ward bishopric was held recently beneath beautiful redwood trees in the Oakland Hills.
Stress was placed in four areas: conducting meetings, delegating responsibilities and then following up, working with advisers, and understanding the purpose of the service and activities committee. Those leading the workshops made it clear that they were there to guide and encourage but not to lecture.
After discussing basics, the participants divided into small groups to practice delegating responsibilities for a sample party. They were “criticized” by their group, received a “second chance,” and “phoned” for follow-through experience. In addition, youths and adults practiced agenda writing and planned the calendar of activities for the coming year.
But it wasn’t all work. Following the workshops time was set aside for softball, volleyball, and horseshoes. The day concluded with inspirational talks by ward and stake leaders together with testimonies from those participating in the conference.

Of course, paying fast offerings is not always easy. Like other financial contributions to the Church, it can be a test of our faithfulness. One brother related the following experience:
“I was a student at Oxford University in England and was preparing to fly home to the United States. I only had a little money and needed to do three things: pay my fast offering and budget, buy a trunk for my things, and pay for transportation to the airport. I only had enough money for two of these. I had decided to wait and pay fast offerings and budget later, but while I was in church I felt inspired to go ahead and pay them—which I did. Afterwards I was left with enough money for either the trunk or transportation to the airport, but not both. Later, as I was walking down the street, I noticed a man carrying a trunk. I asked him about it, and he told me he was about to throw it away. After we talked for a minute he gave me the trunk—my problem was solved. To me, that was a direct blessing for paying my fast offerings and budget.”

Many of us remember President Hugh B. Brown telling of a personal epiphany that he had in World War I. At that time he owned a farm in Canada. One morning he went out to prune a currant bush that had grown all to wood and no longer blossomed or produced currants. So he got his pruning shears and cut it and pruned it and clipped it back until there was nothing left but the stumps.

President Brown said he imagined that if the currant bush could speak, it would say, “How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. I was almost as big as the shade tree and the fruit tree that are inside the fence, and now you have cut me down.”

President Brown answered, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and some day, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down, for caring enough about me to hurt me. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’”

President Brown then explained that when World War I came, he was in England in command of a cavalry unit in the Canadian army. He was a field officer and was being considered for promotion to general in the British army. He was ordered to appear one morning in the office of the commanding general of the Canadian forces. His uniform was pressed and his buttons polished and his boots shining. President Brown recalled: “I walked smartly into the office of the general and I saluted him smartly, and he gave me the same kind of salute a senior officer usually gives—a sort of “Get out of the way, worm!” He then advised President Brown that he was not going to be appointed a general even though he had passed examinations and had the seniority and was a good officer.

He was being sent back to Canada to become a training officer and a transport officer. As the general slipped out of the room to answer a telephone, President Brown noticed on the general’s desk his personal history sheet. Across the bottom, in bold block-type letters, was written “THIS MAN IS A MORMON.”

The general came back, dismissed President Brown, and President Brown went away with a broken heart, bitterness in his soul, and a feeling of failure and disappointment. When he got back to his tent, he clenched his fists, shook them at heaven, and said:

“How could you do this to me, God? I have done everything I could to measure up. There is nothing that I could have done—that I should have done—that I haven’t done. How could you do this to me?” I was as bitter as gall.

And then I heard a voice, and I recognized the tone of this voice. It was my own voice, and the voice said, “I am the gardener here. I know what I want you to do.” The bitterness went out of my soul, and I fell on my knees by the cot to ask forgiveness for my ungratefulness and my bitterness.

President Brown would have been the senior military officer in all western Canada, with security and a good income, and he would have had to raise his daughters and two sons in army barracks. He commented that they probably would have married out of the Church and not amounted to anything.

President Brown concluded this remarkable story by saying that when we are overcome with disappointment and heartbreak and defeat, we should remember that

“God is the gardener here. He knows what he wants you to be.” Submit yourselves to his will. Be worthy of his blessings, and you will get his blessings.

Several years ago a dear friend, who is a descendant of Hyrum Smith, asked if I would help him research the teachings of Hyrum. Though not a descendant myself, I readily agreed to help.

In February 2000, because of my research, I received an invitation to the family celebration of Hyrum's 200th birthday. Many hundreds of Hyrum's descendants gathered in the Assembly Hall on Temple Square. Elder M. Russell Ballard, Hyrum's great-great-grandson attended and President Gordon B. Hinckley made a surprise appearance as well.

As I looked around at all those descendants of Hyrum Smith, I wondered about the research I had been asked to do. Why me? With all those descendants, why should I be asked to do the work? In the midst of my contemplation, an unmistakable voice whispered to my soul, "Because you are willing."

Looking back, I now see that message as typical of Hyrum's life. In fact, I came to feel that it was Hyrum's voice.

Illustration by Brad Teare; The Lord Jesus Christ, by Del Parson © IRI
Emma tightened her grip on her backpack as she walked into her new classroom. It was the first day of school. She had her favorite dress on, and Mom had packed a special treat with lunch—animal crackers.
“Today is going to be great,” Emma thought to herself. “As long as—”
Emma stopped and stared across the classroom. There she was. Violet.
Last year, Violet had hogged the monkey bars every recess. She had called Emma names. She had even stolen Emma’s best friend!
Violet saw Emma and stuck out her tongue. Emma glared back, gripping her backpack even harder. Violet had been unfriendly all last year, and it seemed this year wouldn’t be any different.
“Welcome to a new year, class!” Miss Caldwell said from the front of the room. “Let’s assign seats.”
The desks were lined up in twos across the classroom. Miss Caldwell ran her finger down the roll; then she pointed at a pair of desks in the back. “Emma. You will sit back there.”
Emma sat down in one of the back desks. She hoped Liselle would sit next to her. Or Jaime. Or—
“Violet.”
Emma’s head jerked up. Did she hear that right?
Yes. Miss Caldwell was still pointing at the desk beside hers. “You will be Emma’s neighbor, Violet,” she said.
Violet trudged toward Emma with a frown. Emma put her head on her desk and stared at the wall. It was going to be a long year.
At math time, Miss Caldwell wrote some problems on the board for the class to solve. “You may work alone or with your neighbor,” she said.
Emma quickly hunched over her paper, pretending like she was busy. The problems were pretty easy. She was just trying to avoid Violet. She hadn’t looked at her once all morning.
Something poked her shoulder. It felt like a pencil. Emma ignored it.
Another poke. Violet was poking her! Emma kept working stubbornly.
Violet’s third poke was hard enough to hurt. Emma could feel herself boiling up inside. Was the whole year going to be like this? She thought about raising her hand to tell Miss Caldwell. Or maybe she’d just give Violet another glare.
Then Emma heard a sniffle. Was someone crying? The pencil poked her again. She looked over and saw Violet staring at her. Her pencil was in her hand, and there were tears in her eyes. Her paper was covered in eraser smudges.
Violet twisted the pencil in her hands. “Can you help me?” she asked quietly.
Emma looked at her for a minute, shocked. Violet wanted her to help? After how mean she had always been? Emma turned back to her own paper. Violet could work alone. She didn’t deserve Emma’s help, even if she was …
… her neighbor?
Emma silently faced forward. She could hear Violet crying softly next to her. The scriptures always said to love her neighbor—but Violet was different! Emma was only sitting next to her in class!
Emma went back to her own work. Then she stopped. Maybe Violet wasn’t different. Maybe when the scriptures said to love your neighbor, they meant everyone. Even the mean ones. Even if it was hard.
Emma sighed and slowly put her pencil down. She turned to Violet and tried her best to smile. “Can I help?” she asked.
Violet nodded, wiping her tears away with her hand.
Emma leaned over Violet’s paper and started helping with the first problem. She already had a warm feeling inside her. She wondered if Violet liked animal crackers.

Image from Getty Images
When my husband and I decided to start our own business, the first three years were difficult. We were failing to make a profit and falling into debt. We worked hard, but unimaginable problems made that time the most difficult of our lives.
It became worse when my mother-in-law passed away the day after Christmas and just a week later, on New Year’s Eve, I became extremely ill. At the time, we were broke, we had lost our car, and worst of all, we had lost our health insurance.
Eventually, I was diagnosed with an aggressive type of cancer that had been developing for at least five years. It was serious and required immediate surgery. I was running out of time, and we had no money for the expensive medical care I needed.
My husband and I met with our bishop and asked for help. We explained that this was literally a case of life or death. The bishop was concerned, but he told us that he felt prompted to wait a little longer before giving assistance to see if another way might be opened to us. He assured us that if our faith was sufficient, the Lord would provide a way for me to get the help I needed.
At first, the bishop’s response made me angry and resentful. I felt that both he and the Lord had forsaken me. But I had a testimony of the gospel, and I believed that our bishop was called of God. Despite my heartache, I prayed that Heavenly Father would help me continue to love, respect, and support my bishop. When I prayed for this, I was comforted and felt that the Lord would help me in some way.
My husband and I moved forward with faith, and I received needed medical tests and scheduled my surgery, despite our lack of money. The day before my surgery, we sold our business for a good price, which allowed us to pay all my medical bills.
It now became clear why my bishop had hesitated to help. He had acted on inspiration in order for me to have a valuable spiritual experience. That experience taught me to trust the Savior, even when the path seems frustrating and scary. I am grateful for the counsel I did not want to hear from my bishop. I know now that God is a God of miracles and that He never forsakes us.

I recently learned a valuable lesson about seeing deeply from a young woman named Rozlyn.

The story was shared with me by my friend who was devastated when her husband of 20 years moved out. With her children splitting time between parents, the prospect of attending church alone seemed daunting. She recounts:

“In a church where the family is of paramount importance, sitting solo can be painful. That first Sunday I walked in praying no one would speak to me. I was barely holding it together, and tears were on the brink. I sat in my typical spot, hoping no one would notice how empty the bench seemed.

“A young woman in our ward turned and looked at me. I pretended to smile. She smiled back. I could see the concern in her face. I silently pleaded that she wouldn’t come to talk to me—I had nothing positive to say and knew I would cry. I looked back down at my lap and avoided eye contact.

“During the next hour, I noticed her looking back at me occasionally. As soon as the meeting ended, she made a beeline for me. ‘Hi, Rozlyn,’ I whispered. She wrapped me in her arms and said, ‘Sister Smith, I can tell today is a bad day for you. I’m so sorry. I love you.’ As predicted, the tears came as she hugged me again. But as I walked away, I thought to myself, ‘Maybe I can do this after all.’

“That sweet 16-year-old young woman, less than half my age, found me every Sunday for the rest of that year to give me a hug and ask, ‘How are you?’ It made such a difference in how I felt about coming to church. The truth is I started to rely on those hugs. Someone noticed me. Someone knew I was there. Someone cared.”

A friend of mine recently wrote to me, confiding that he was having a difficult time keeping his testimony strong and vibrant. He asked for counsel.
I wrote back to him and lovingly suggested a few specific things he could do that would align his life more closely with the teachings of the restored gospel. To my surprise, I heard back from him only a week later. The essence of his letter was this: “I tried what you suggested. It didn’t work. What else have you got?”
Brothers and sisters, we have to stay with it. We don’t acquire eternal life in a sprint—this is a race of endurance. We have to apply and reapply the divine gospel principles. Day after day we need to make them part of our normal life.
Too often we approach the gospel like a farmer who places a seed in the ground in the morning and expects corn on the cob by the afternoon. When Alma compared the word of God to a seed, he explained that the seed grows into a fruit-bearing tree gradually, as a result of our “faith, and [our] diligence, and patience, and long-suffering.” It’s true that some blessings come right away: soon after we plant the seed in our hearts, it begins to swell and sprout and grow, and by this we know that the seed is good. From the very moment we set foot upon the pathway of discipleship, seen and unseen blessings from God begin to attend us.
But we cannot receive the fulness of those blessings if we “neglect the tree, and take no thought for its nourishment.”
Knowing that the seed is good is not enough. We must “nourish it with great care, that it may get root.” Only then can we partake of the fruit that is “sweet above all that is sweet, and … pure above all that is pure” and “feast upon this fruit even until [we] are filled, that [we] hunger not, neither shall [we] thirst.”
Discipleship is a journey. We need the refining lessons of the journey to craft our character and purify our hearts. By patiently walking in the path of discipleship, we demonstrate to ourselves the measure of our faith and our willingness to accept God’s will rather than ours.
It is not enough merely to speak of Jesus Christ or proclaim that we are His disciples. It is not enough to surround ourselves with symbols of our religion. Discipleship is not a spectator sport. We cannot expect to experience the blessings of faith by standing inactive on the sidelines any more than we can experience the benefits of health by sitting on a sofa watching sporting events on television and giving advice to the athletes. And yet for some, “spectator discipleship” is a preferred if not a primary way of worshipping.
Ours is not a secondhand religion. We cannot receive the blessings of the gospel merely by observing the good that others do. We need to get off the sidelines and practice what we preach.
The first step on the path of discipleship begins, luckily enough, in the exact place where we stand! We do not have to prequalify to take that first step. It doesn’t matter if we are rich or poor. There is no requirement to be educated, eloquent, or intellectual. We do not have to be perfect or well-spoken or even well-mannered.
You and I can walk in the path of discipleship today. Let us be humble; let us pray to our Father in Heaven with all our heart and express our desire to draw close to Him and learn of Him.
Have faith. Seek, and you will find. Knock, and the door will be opened. Serve the Lord by serving others. Become an active participant in your ward or branch. Strengthen your family by committing to live the principles of the gospel. Be of one heart and of one mind in your marriage and in your family.
Now is the time to adjust your lives to be able to have a temple recommend and use it. Now is the time to have meaningful family home evenings, to read the word of God, and to speak to our Heavenly Father in earnest prayer. Now is the time to fill our hearts with gratitude for the Restoration of His Church, for living prophets, the Book of Mormon, and the priesthood power that blesses our lives. Now is the time to embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ, become His disciples, and walk in His way.
There are some who believe that because they have made mistakes, they can no longer fully partake of the blessings of the gospel. How little they understand the purposes of the Lord. One of the great blessings of living the gospel is that it refines us and helps us learn from our mistakes. We “all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God,” yet the Atonement of Jesus Christ has the power to make us whole when we repent.
Our beloved friend Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin taught us this principle with clarity when he said:
“Oh, it is wonderful to know that our Heavenly Father loves us—even with all our flaws! His love is such that even should we give up on ourselves, He never will.
“We [might] see ourselves in terms of yesterday and today. Our Heavenly Father sees us in terms of forever. …
“The gospel of Jesus Christ is a gospel of transformation. It takes us as men and women of the earth and refines us into men and women for the eternities.”
To those who have left the path of discipleship for whatever reason, I invite you to start where you are and come to the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. Walk again in the way of the Lord. I testify that the Lord will bless your life, endow you with knowledge and joy beyond comprehension, and distill upon you the supernal gifts of the Spirit. It is always the right time to walk in His way. It is never too late.
To those who feel inadequate because they have not been members of the Church all their lives, to those who feel that they can never make up for the time they have lost, I testify that the Lord needs your specific abilities, talents, and skills. The Church needs you; we need you. It is always the right time to walk in His way. It is never too late.
Let us remember on this Palm Sunday, during this Easter season, and always that the restored gospel of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ has the power to fill any emptiness, heal any wound, and bridge any vale of sorrow. It is the way of hope, faith, and trust in the Lord. The gospel of Jesus Christ is taught in its fulness in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This Church is led by a living prophet, authorized by the Lord Jesus Christ to provide direction and guidance to help us face the challenges of our day, as serious as they may be.
I bear my solemn witness that Jesus the Christ lives. He is the Savior and Redeemer of the world. He is the promised Messiah. He lived a perfect life and atoned for our sins. He will ever be at our side. He will fight our battles. He is our hope; He is our salvation; He is the way. Of this I testify in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

One winter day, I was walking the school grounds with my friends Alice and Trevor when we came across a sign that read: “Cups of tea now available.” Excitedly, Trevor offered to buy us each a cup of tea. “No, thank you,” I said.
Trevor offered me tea each day, and I continued to decline. Finally, he asked me why I wouldn’t drink the tea. I told him about the Word of Wisdom, hoping that he would understand. But he just turned it into a big joke. He tried to get me to break the Word of Wisdom.
“It’s not like you’re taking drugs,” he said. “A cup of tea is harmless!”
The next week, he and his friends started teasing me even worse. I tried to hold my head high, though it wasn’t easy.
Over time, they felt bad for their actions and stopped teasing me. One day, my teacher told me: “You have always been an example of your faith and religion. I am proud of you.”
I am proud of myself too. It isn’t always easy, but I know I’ll be blessed for standing up for my standards.
Nicolé M., West Midlands, United Kingdom

One day when the Prophet was visiting his parents’ home in Far West, a group of militiamen burst through the door.
Which one of you is Joe Smith?
We’re here to kill him!
Joseph immediately stepped forward, smiled at the men, and shook their hands.
I’m Joseph. Nice to meet you. Please, come and sit down.
The men stared in disbelief at the Prophet as he continued to speak.
We Mormons believe in Jesus Christ and just want peace. But we have had a lot of persecution these past months since we’ve moved to Missouri. As far as I know, none of us have ever broken the law. But if we have, we’re ready to be tried by the law.
Mother, I believe I will go home. Emma will be expecting me.
You shall not go alone, for it is not safe.
We will go with you and guard you.
Thank you.
We promise to disband the militia under us and go home.
If you need us at all, we’ll come back and do whatever you need.
Outside Joseph’s parents’ home, the rest of the men talked about their encounter with the Prophet.
Did you not feel strangely when he took you by the hand? I never felt so in my life.
I felt as though I could not move. I would not harm one hair of that man’s head for the whole world.
This is the last time you will ever catch me coming to kill Joe Smith or the Mormons either.

As a result of Sister Heistø’s initial efforts, the groundwork was laid for the establishment of the Scandinavian Scholarship Endowment at BYU. This was made possible through the generous contribution of a private donor who was aware of Sister Heistø’s work and applied his own gifts and talents to help this work go forward. In conjunction with the scholarship program, a special lecture series in the David M. Kennedy Center was established to bring Norwegian and Danish government and educational leaders to Utah and Brigham Young University.

The lecture series was initiated by writing to the Norwegian ambassador to the United States. I told him of the scholarship program and of our objective in bringing Norwegian government and educational leaders to lecture at BYU. Within a few weeks the ambassador replied, complimenting us on our initiatives and inviting me to visit him at his embassy the next time I was in Washington, D.C. Fortunately, a month later I went to Washington on some university business and met with Kjeld Vibe, the Norwegian ambassador. We had a delightful visit, and he graciously accepted the invitation to visit Utah and lecture at BYU.

About two weeks later Stephen Studdert, a stake president in northern Virginia and a former member of President Reagan’s administration, stopped by my office. During our discussion I told him about my visit with the Norwegian ambassador. President Studdert smiled and said, “How would you like a postscript to your visit?” He then told me that two nights earlier he had attended a dinner with 18 ambassadors in Washington, D.C. None of the ambassadors knew he was LDS nor had an association with BYU. As the evening began, the Austrian ambassador told the other ambassadors that he had just returned from a visit to Brigham Young University. The ambassador said it was one of the most delightful experiences of his life. He told of his impressions of BYU, of how kindly he was hosted, and of how impressed he was with BYU and its students. President Studdert said as soon as the Austrian ambassador finished, another ambassador said that he, too, had visited BYU. He gave a similar report. When he finished speaking, the Norwegian ambassador then stated, “I just accepted an invitation to go to BYU and will be there next month.” After Ambassador Vibe’s comment, President Studdert said a fourth ambassador asked, “How do you get invited? I would like to go there, too.”

President Studdert moved to Utah and was asked by Governor Michael Leavitt to serve as chair of the 1996 Utah Statehood Centennial Celebration Commission. One of President Studdert’s proposals for the Statehood Centennial Celebration was to have an ambassadorial-visits program to showcase Utah to foreign ambassadors. I was invited to serve on the program committee and later became its chair.

Our target was to bring 50 ambassadors to Utah representing countries that were Utah’s strongest economic trading partners. Each ambassador could come at a time convenient to his own schedule. Forty-three ambassadors came. One of the objectives during the visits was to have each ambassador speak at a college or university. Most ambassadors wanted to visit BYU, and the highest percentage did. It was a marvelous experience to host them and see their reactions. Because of the success of the state’s program, we have now started our own BYU Ambassador Lecture Series and bring ambassadors each semester to visit BYU and lecture at the Kennedy Center.

One inspiring story about leadership in the home is about a mother named Katie Davis Majors, a young woman from Tennessee who had always dreamed of traveling the world and doing something meaningful with her life. So, at the age of 18, she decided to take a gap year and volunteer at an orphanage in Uganda.

During her year in Uganda, Katie fell in love with the children she was caring for and with the country itself. She decided to stay in Uganda permanently, and she eventually founded a non-profit organization that helps provide education and healthcare to children in need.

But even more than her work in Uganda, Katie is known for her leadership in her own home. She and her husband have 13 adopted children, many of whom have special needs. Katie is a devoted mother who has created a warm and loving home for her children, despite the many challenges they face. Katie’s leadership in her home is characterized by patience, kindness, and selflessness—three additional qualities on our Top 10 list. Katie has taught her children the importance of hard work, perseverance, and compassion, and she leads by example, putting their needs before her own.

Katie’s story is a powerful reminder that leadership isn’t just about what you do outside the home—it’s also about how you lead within your own family. Her example shows that the qualities of a great leader can have a transformative effect on those around you.

“Look at how squished together the houses are!” Richard’s younger brother, Michael, said, pointing to a row of matching doors. “Are there any kids my age around here?” he asked.
“I’m sure there are,” Mom said, pulling another box from the car.
“Yeah,” said Richard. “Look at all the toys and bikes in the yards.”
Erika stroked Jewel and tickled her tummy as she carried the purring cat to the front door. “I think Jewel likes it here!” she said.
Richard knew why his family was moving here. It was close to the hospital where Erika was getting treatments.
Even though Erika was older than Richard, she looked smaller and skinnier because of her cancer treatments. The treatments also made her hair fall out. That’s why she always wore a bright yellow hat.
“Almost as sunny as her smile,” Mom sometimes said.
Suddenly Michael yelled from the hill up the street. “A playground! We have a playground!”
“A playground?” Erika started walking up the street, her smile even bigger. “Let’s go see it!”
As they got closer, Richard saw a big sign on the fence: “UNSAFE—DO NOT PLAY.” The swing set was broken, and a few rusty pipes were lying around.
“That’s sad!” Richard said. “I bet there are lots of kids around here who would love a place to play.”
“We could fix it!” Erika said. She sounded excited, like she could already see the way it would look.
“Could we, Mom?” Richard asked.
Mom shrugged. “I don’t know, kids. That would be really difficult.”
Erika looked at the playground. Her smile had faded, but her hat still looked bright and sunny.
Richard turned back to Mom. “Can we try?”
Mom finally gave in. But it would take lots of work.
After they got settled in their new house, Richard and Michael started looking for neighborhood kids to help. Mom called businesses to ask for donations. Before long kids were cleaning up trash and planting flowers. They painted benches with castles, spaceships, and dragons—Erika’s favorite. The whole neighborhood was helping make Erika’s dream come true!
As months went by, Erika got sicker and sicker. But even when she couldn’t help fix things up anymore, she and Jewel came out to cheer the helpers on.
“Remember, we want plenty of ramps for wheelchairs,” she said. “This will be a playground everyone can play on!”
On the day the playground was finally opened, Erika wasn’t there. She had already returned to Heavenly Father. But Richard, Michael, and Mom were there?—along with tons of other kids. There were kids in wheelchairs, kids on crutches, and even kids from other neighborhoods!
A new playground sign said “Erika’s Dream Park.”
Richard sat on a bench covered with paintings of dragons and watched everyone run and jump and swing. He knew Erika was in heaven and that she wasn’t sick anymore. But it was still hard watching all those kids play without her there.
The sun was bright and yellow like Erika’s hat. Richard could feel it warm him from head to toe. He thought maybe he was feeling warm for another reason too. Like maybe the Holy Ghost was telling him that things would be OK. He knew he would see Erika again. And when she was resurrected, her body would be healthy and strong. A smile spread across Richard’s face.
“Come on, Richard!” Michael shouted from the top of the slide.
Richard jumped off the bench and ran into the sunshine to play.

Perhaps one of the reasons I feel this way is that my beautiful wife, Mary, is as wonderful and righteous as ever. Let me reminisce a little about her; it will lead into the message I want to leave with you.

I first saw Mary when we were in 7th grade at Logan Junior High School. She sang on a talent assembly. When she walked on the stage, she had a big smile, blonde, almost white hair, and bright blue eyes. She looked like she would have a soprano voice. Our entire class was surprised by her rich, mature, alto voice, and her incredible rendition of a favorite popular song. The title was On the Sunny Side of the Street. That is the title of my message today.

Our entire class loved her performance, and we learned that Mary did try to live on the sunny side of the street. She was warm, kind, friendly, and righteous; we all deeply admired her. It was many years before I had a first date with her. But as I observed her in those pre-date years, I came to realize that the song in a sense described her life. The words, “If I never have a cent,” reflected to a certain extent, her family. They had very little temporal substance in their lives. Through her youth they rented various homes and moved often. Her father, though capable and a good man in many respects, had an alcohol problem for many years that adversely affected her parents’ relationship. Her parents were separated for two years during Mary’s grade school years. During that period, she, her mother, and siblings lived with her grandmother. I noticed in high school that she wore clean, pressed, and modest clothing, but could not afford expensive stylish clothes. It became evident that she was as friendly with those who were poor and down-trodden as with the most popular girls.

It would be fair to say, like the words of the song she sang, that she did not have a cent, but she tried to live on the sunny side of the street. She modeled her life, then and now, on the righteous principles taught in the gospel of Jesus Christ. Through those years I considered her a good friend. She was always happy and optimistic. She was a diligent student and excelled in many activities. While I was still on my mission in England, Mary graduated from Utah State University as valedictorian of her college and scholar of the year. I admired her before I fell in love with her. We were married soon after I returned from my mission. She is the love of my life. I am pleased to report that many years after we were married, her father had resolved his issues and had become active in the Church. Mary and a beloved sister joyfully joined their parents to be sealed together as an eternal family in the Logan Temple.

During a recent stake conference assignment, I was accompanied by an outstanding regional representative of the Twelve. As we flew between Salt Lake City and San Francisco, I was interested in his telling me about his wife, three sons, and two daughters. One daughter, the youngest of the five children, born about seventeen years ago, passed away within the last year. At birth she suffered severe brain damage and, as a result, in the sixteen years of her life was never able to grow or develop. Constant care from a loving mother, patience and warmth from a kind father, and understanding from three noble brothers and a thoughtful sister made her presence special in the family. I was moved to new depths of understanding when this traveling companion told me what a blessing this soul had been to their household. He said, “Nothing that money could buy could have ever brought us together in love, patience, and humility like just taking care of her did.” Here was a tragedy, here was a trial if you please, turned into an opportunity for blessings for eternal family storage and sharing. I thank this noble father, mother, and children for sharing with me out of their home storage.

To illustrate this point I would like to share an experience that involves a great group of young men. This experience began two years ago and is still ongoing. This unique experience and transition has been witnessed and enjoyed by many and has left a lasting impression on me and many others. This is an example of a group of young men who set personal goals at an early age including goals with eternal significance.

Two years ago our twin sons were members of our local High School football team in Rexburg and they were excited to play their senior year. All the young men on this team made it their goal during their youth football days to win a high school state championship in football. During the prior high school season their team won four games and lost five. It made sense at the time why no one picked this team do be anything but average their senior season. Fortunately, someone forgot to tell that to this team. This team was a close knit group, all with a common goal. In my opinion this team had three attributes that exceeded that of their opponents this particular season. Their desire to do their best and win was greater and their team unity and unselfishness exceeded that of their opponents.

During this pre-season the boys would continually refer to their goal of winning a state championship and they were determined that nothing would stand in their way of accomplishing this goal. The season began and this team practiced and played their games with one goal in mind: a State championship. I'll give you the condensed version of this very exciting season and simply say, they ended up having pretty good year winning all nine of their regular season games. Not bad. They then went on to win their first two state playoff games. Finally, as a result of every coach and player's desire to win and the best efforts of everyone on the team they held on to win the 5A state championship and end the season undefeated with 12 wins and no losses. You would be hard pressed to find a group of young men and coaches that were happier that evening than this group not to mention the entire community.

The next morning the front page of the local newspaper read: "PERFECT!" On the back page it read "CHAMPS!" What a great experience for these young men. Those were truly great times and an experience they will remember for a lifetime.

Did this experience contribute to these young men experiencing an abundant life? Absolutely. Many probably thought that few things, if any could ever surpass the excitement, satisfaction, and happiness that this experience had brought them, but this overall experience gets even better.

Midway through this particular football season, President Monson made the announcement that young men could begin their missionary service when they turn 18. Many of these young men at an early age made it a goal to win a state championship in football but they also made a personal goal to serve a mission. As a result, midway through this football season, winning a championship and leaving on a mission right after high school became the conversation piece for many. The following spring, mission call after mission call started arriving in the mailboxes of many of these young men. All the sudden this large group of teammates began to decrease in number as they saw their lifelong friends leave, one at a time, week by week to their respective missions throughout the world. What a blessing it was for these boys to have such a large group of friends and teammates with similar values and with the same goal of serving a mission. There are certainly other high school football teams who go undefeated and win championships, but few teams can say they have over 30 young men from their championship team currently serving missions. I don't give you that number to brag or set this group of young men apart from anyone else. I give you that number in the spirit of excitement, humility and gratitude. Watching them work together on the football field was certainly enjoyable but watching this group transition into the lives of Elders has been equally enjoyable and fulfilling.

“My mother had taken me to an elocution teacher. Our family was very fortunate because my father had a good job and could afford to give us that kind of training. Then a wonderful opportunity came. Someone in the sixth grade was to be chosen to speak in the great Tabernacle on Temple Square for the school festival. I just knew it was going to be me.”
It wasn’t. In her disappointment, Elaine had no way of knowing that one day her voice would not only be heard in the great Tabernacle on Temple Square, but would be broadcast from that very spot to the nations of the world. But without the advantage of knowing the future, how did she handle the present?
“Well, at first I thought, ‘What good does it do to work and train and prepare? People just choose their friends.’ But I got over that. I’ve always been a true believer in the Lord, so I could go to my Heavenly Father and say, Why? Didn’t I work hard enough? What did I do wrong? She was learning at a young age to pour out her heart as she would to a loving father and expect answers to come.
Through her school and college years, Sister Cannon came to realize that being distracted by the selfish aims of position, prestige, power, and popularity may gradually ease you away from what you really want ultimately; they will lead you away from that sometimes discouraging climb towards heights never dreamed of in the beginning.
“This is what I learned: When I simply did what was at hand for me to do and did it the very best I could every day, not worrying about other things, those very experiences that were important to my preparation for other opportunities came into my life naturally.”
She also learned that personal disappointment could be cured by service to others:
“I ran for president of my high school women’s student association and lost. I felt that losing left me out of everything, and I really wanted to be in. But instead of feeling sorry for myself, I worked with one of my teachers to plan a marvelous party for the girl who beat me.
“When you lose and you’re really hurt, you can just reach out. If someone offends you or gets the honor or the award or job that you wanted, you just say to someone, ‘What can I do for you?’ And then you try to reach out to another and away from your own hurt.”

In February 2017, I was working here at BYU-Idaho as the Institutional Planning Managing Director. One of my responsibilities at the time was providing budget support to the Online Learning and Pathway departments. On February 7, the Church announced the creation of BYU-Pathway Worldwide. With this announcement, the Pathway organization would be relocated from Rexburg to Salt Lake City. I remember thinking at the time, “I’m glad I don’t work directly for Pathway so I don’t have to move my family with the team.” Well, long story short, then-president Clark G. Gilbert asked me to be the Budget Officer for BYU-Pathway Worldwide and move my family with them.

I remember going home from work that day, waiting for our four young children to go to bed, and sitting down with my sweetheart and telling her about my conversation with President Gilbert. Tears flowed as we talked about the decision ahead and the impact it would have on our children. I still vividly remember the conversation. Some of it was Taunia asking the following questions:
Taunia: “Where will we live?”
Me: “I don’t know.”
Taunia: “How much will you make?”
Me: “I don’t know.”
Taunia: “What are the employee benefits?”
Me: “I don’t know. But the good news is we have a couple of weeks to decide!”
Ultimately we both agreed that, no matter the outcome, we wanted to do what was best for our little family and that the Lord knew what was best for us. We didn’t ever want to look back and wonder what might have been or have regrets for not trusting in Heavenly Father’s plan for us. So we fasted, prayed, and went to the temple, earnestly seeking direction from the Lord.

It became evident that we needed to accept this opportunity and move to Salt Lake. So we did. And it was hard, difficult, scary at times, and overwhelming. But it was also wonderful, faith-building, a tremendous opportunity in many ways, and we had so much peace knowing that we had subjected our will to the will of the Lord, and, no matter the outcome, it was where we were supposed to be. I will be forever grateful for the experiences we had in Utah, the friends we made, and the circumstances that allowed us to return back to Rexburg six years later.

Illustrations by Valerio Fabbretti
I was serving as a missionary, and a family in our ward unexpectedly invited my companion and me over for dinner.
When Christmas Eve finally came, we walked a few miles to their home, stomped off our snow-powdered boots, and eagerly rapped on the front door. Silence. After knocking again and ringing the doorbell, an adult daughter finally came to the door.
“Can you wait out here for a second?” she said. “We forgot you guys were coming.”
The door shut, and we looked at each other, confused, as we shivered on the porch.
When the door swung open again, we were guided to a small, well-loved couch in the corner of the living room. All 15 family members (seven of them small children) were also packed into the room. The older children raised their eyebrows in surprise at our appearance. The younger children wildly wrestled on the carpet. Apparently, the father, who was the only active Church member, had not told his family members that we were coming.
The same daughter who opened the front door announced that they hadn’t had time to prepare dinner, so she was going to see what restaurants were open for pickup. The father did his best to hush the children and direct their attention toward us, but they were pretty rowdy.
At first, my companion could barely utter a few words before a child would squeal or the family dog would jump on our laps. In all the chaos, I prayed for a way to help this family feel the peace of the Savior.
“Let’s imagine something together,” I said suddenly. “Can everyone close their eyes?”
I didn’t quite know where I was going with this, but I had a copy of an article by Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles that my mom had sent me. The question took the children off guard and they squeezed their eyes shut.
I unfolded the talk and began to read.
“Think about that baby [Jesus] in the manger. … Do not be too concerned or overwhelmed with what is coming in His life or in yours. … Just think about that little baby. Take a quiet, peaceful moment to ponder the beginning of His life ... when all of heaven rejoiced with the message ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men’ (Luke 2:14).”
At this point the children were all quiet and still; even the teenagers put their phones down. I read on.
“Just sit with the Lord and let Him warm you like a fire in winter. You don’t have to be perfect or the greatest person who ever graced the earth or the best of anything to be with Him.”1
I paused for a few moments to allow the Spirit to linger before telling the family to open their eyes. My companion and I bore our testimonies of the miracle of Christ’s birth and how we can always experience the peaceful feelings of Christmas as we cherish His life.
The atmosphere in the small living room was warm and light. I felt as though we had taken our own journey to Bethlehem to gather around the Christ child. One of the little girls sighed and said, “I love Jesus. Thank you for coming, Sisters.” Many of the other children nodded.
A few minutes later, the oldest daughter hobbled in the door, arms loaded with bags of fast food. We soon found ourselves munching on tacos, laughing, and sharing our favorite holiday memories.
Christmas has a way of bringing all kinds of people together. And just as Elder Christofferson taught, we don’t have to have the perfect family or the perfect holiday traditions to feel the Savior’s love; we just need to remember Him. On that Christmas Eve, I learned that sometimes a simple, heartfelt moment with Savior is all it takes to create a “silent night.”
The author lives in Utah, USA.