Gospel Story Finder

When she was 16 years old, Sister Michelle D. Craig learned that her family would be moving from Provo, Utah, USA, to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, USA, so her father could begin an assignment to serve as a mission president.
She was happy to be with her family, but the move left young Michelle “lonely socially” during her junior and senior years of high school.
“Those were really formative years,” Sister Craig said. “Instead of relying on friends, I relied on my family and my testimony, and church became a lifeline.” She valued most her relationship with Heavenly Father and the Savior.

I thought back to last year at Thanksgiving time. My whole family was at Grandfather’s, and after the meal, we children played behind the house.
During an exciting game of hide-and-seek, some of us had gone into Mr. Jenkins’s yard to hide. His house looked empty and lonesome, and we were sure that nobody was home. But he came out, waving his cane in the air and shouting for us to leave! He even called me a scalawag!
“Grandfather,” I asked now, “why are we in this yard?”
“Why, this is where we will build our bridge!” When I looked at him with questioning eyes, he said, “Do you trust me, Grandson?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“And if I ask you to do something, will you do it?”
“I will, Grandfather.”
“Good!” He handed me a pair of gloves and asked me to go down to Mr. Jenkins’s big garden. “Do you see those pumpkins?”
Of course I saw them! There were lots of bright orange pumpkins scattered all over the ground, surrounded by their withered vines from the last frost.
“I would like you to pick them and put them in a pile over by the house. Be very careful, and don’t carry them by the stems!”
“OK, Grandfather.” I went to the task. I had never seen so many pumpkins! Some of them were skinny and tall. Others were round and fat. They were all heavy! I worked very hard for a long time. After I got that done, Grandfather asked me to rake the fallen leaves in the yard.
I told him I would, but when I looked around, I was stunned! There must have been thousands of leaves surrounding me! The huge cottonwood trees in the backyard had certainly had a lot of leaves that year! It took me two hours to rake them. All the while, I kept thinking, Maybe when I’m done with this, we will build a bridge.
Grandfather was busy too. He had brought a shovel, and he dug up all the potatoes in the garden, put them into the buckets, and carried them to the porch. When he noticed that one of the stairs leading to the porch was sagging, he set to fixing it. Then he helped me bag the leaves.
Well, when we were finished with Mr. Jenkins’s yard and garden, it looked great! It felt nice to look at it and see what a good job we had done. I knew Mr. Jenkins saw what a good job we had done, too, because once I saw him peeking through a window—and he wasn’t scowling!
By this time, I felt hungry. I was glad when Grandfather said, “How would you like it if we went home now and made some of my famous potato soup?”
“Hurrah! I love your potato soup!”
We went into the house and made a great big batch of it. And as we were cooking it, I thought that maybe after lunch we would start building that bridge.
The soup was delicious, and we had a fun time eating and talking. Grandfather told me interesting stories that made me laugh. When we were all done, there was a lot of soup left. Grandfather put it in a big bowl and said, “Now, Grandson, I want you to take this over to Mr. Jenkins.”
“What?” I exclaimed. “I can’t do that! He’s mean, and he doesn’t like me.”
Grandfather just looked me in the eyes and said, “Please.”
So I got all my courage together and walked over to Mr. Jenkins’s front door with a bowl of warm soup in my hands. I rang the doorbell and waited a long time. Finally he came to the door. He had a broken leg and was on crutches!
“Hello, young man,” he said. He didn’t look mean at all—in fact, he even smiled at me!
“My grandfather asked me to bring this over to you.”
“I thank you for it. Tell me, could you carry it just a wee bit farther and put it on my table?”
“Sure.” As I walked through the house, I noticed that it was very messy. I suspected that he couldn’t get around well enough to take care of it. I put the soup on the table and told him I had to go. As I was leaving, I thought I saw tears in his eyes.
“Young man, you don’t know what you and your grandfather did today means to me! Thank you, from the bottom of a cranky old man’s heart!”
I smiled big and said, “You’re welcome!” Then I went back to Grandfather’s house. When I told him what had happened, he seemed very pleased. Then I asked him if we could build our bridge.
“Why, Grandson, we have already built it!”
“We have? Really?”
“Yes indeed! We built a very wonderful bridge today: the bridge of friendship, my boy. Mr. Jenkins may be a cranky old fellow sometimes, but as you could see, he needed some help. And he was glad to get it. All it took to warm his old heart was just being a good neighbor and friend. Our helping him showed him that we were his friends. Building bridges between people and making friends is one of the strongest bridges we could ever build!”
Well, it took me a minute to understand what Grandfather had said. But once I realized that we actually had built a bridge, I couldn’t help but smile. Then I remembered how Mr. Jenkins’s house was so messy, and it gave me a great idea. “Grandfather? Do you think we could add a little bit to that bridge today?”
Grandfather smiled, winked at me, and said, “Yes, Grandson, I believe we could!”

Mateo looked at the math problem on the board and quickly wrote it down in his notebook. Math was his favorite subject, so he really wanted to pay attention. But he could barely hear what Mrs. Santos was saying because his friend Daniel was talking.
“Shh! Daniel, I can’t hear!” Mateo whispered. But Daniel kept talking. Finally Mrs. Santos heard him.
“Daniel, you’re interrupting again,” Mrs. Santos said. “You’ve already had a warning. Now you need to give me a ticket.”
Daniel slowly reached into his desk and handed her a red ticket. His shoulders slumped, and he looked down at the floor. Mrs. Santos gave tickets to students who behaved well and followed directions. The students wrote their names on the tickets and put them in a jar each day. But you had to give a ticket back if you misbehaved. Every Friday, Mrs. Santos pulled a ticket out of the jar, and the winner got to choose a prize from the class treasure chest! Daniel had to give a lot of tickets back for talking, so his name wasn’t drawn very often. Mateo felt bad that Daniel was losing another ticket.
At recess Mateo ran out to the field to play football. He saw Daniel standing alone by the swings. He could tell Daniel was crying. Mateo wanted to help him feel better.
“Do you want to play football?” Mateo asked.
Daniel didn’t say anything. Mateo tried to talk to him more, but Daniel just turned away.
“Well, I’ll be at the football field if you change your mind.”
Mateo went to play with his other friends, but he kept thinking about Daniel. Mateo was turning eight and was going to be baptized soon. He wanted to be like Jesus and be a good friend. Was there something he could do to help Daniel not get in trouble?
The next day, the class was reading a story in small groups. But instead of reading, Daniel was tossing his book high into the air.
Mateo tried to stop him. “Daniel, we need to read the book, not play with it.”
Daniel tossed the book again. Mrs. Santos saw it almost hit the ceiling. She walked over to Daniel and held out her hand for a ticket. Daniel reached into his desk. Panic crossed his face as he kept searching.
“Oh no! He must be out of tickets!” Mateo thought. No tickets meant Daniel would have to stay inside for recess. Mateo’s mind started racing. What could he do? Then he had a good thought.
“Daniel,” Mrs. Santos said, “if you don’t have a ticket for me, then—”
Mateo took a deep breath. “May I pay for him, Mrs. Santos?” he asked.
The class went quiet. No one had ever asked her that before. Mateo wasn’t sure what she would say.
Mrs. Santos looked surprised. Then she smiled. “You’re a very good friend. Yes, you may pay Daniel’s ticket for him.” Mateo handed Mrs. Santos one of his tickets.
“Thanks, Mateo,” said Daniel.
“Sure!” said Mateo. “Do you want to read together now?”
Daniel nodded and picked up his book.
As Daniel started reading, Mateo felt warm and happy inside. That good idea had come from the Holy Ghost! Mateo knew that Jesus had wanted him to help Daniel—because He loves Daniel. And Mateo felt Jesus’s love too!

Football season begins early in Alaska, USA. For seniors Vili T. and his twin brother, Josh, the first regular season game in 2012 took place on August 11. The regular season ended at the end of September. That’s because in this far-northern state, winter comes early. Just a few miles from the high school, blue-white glaciers reach right down into the ocean. And bald eagles and bears feast on the salmon.
Holding practice in 55-degree (12.8°C) weather is not uncommon, even in the summer. Vili and Josh do it because they love athletics.
“We’re always near each other,” says Vili, referring to the fact that he plays quarterback and Josh plays running back. But the two of them are leaders off the field too. There are only 15 or so members of the Church in their school, so they really stand out. Setting the example for others means constantly making choices to be strong—and humble—and the rewards have been tangible.
“People here are pretty accepting of Latter-day Saints,” Josh says. “Sometimes they make jokes, or they try to get us to do stuff on Sundays. But they all know we have Mutual on Tuesdays so they shouldn’t expect us at football.”
Vili adds, “Sometimes they try to get us to do things we shouldn’t do. We just say no. Sometimes we teach them the gospel or share the Book of Mormon with them. It’s pretty fun to share the gospel.”
The brothers learned early on that it’s not always easy being different.
“In middle school, our friends started making choices” to do things that weren’t in keeping with the gospel, Josh explains. “We had to separate ourselves a little bit. In high school, I saw my friends make bad choices. That’s when I realized I’m grateful for who I am and the choices I’ve made.”
“As a freshman,” Vili adds, “I looked to some of the older football players as my heroes. After they graduated, I saw some of them make some really wrong choices. But one of them, my cousin Paul, served a mission.” When Vili compared the two types of examples set by the older players, he had a moment where the Spirit gave him understanding about who he wanted to be and what he wanted to do with his life. “Then I knew for sure that the gospel is true. I knew that if I stick with the gospel and keep my standards, then I can live with Heavenly Father again.”
During the summer of 2012, Vili and Josh attended an Aaronic Priesthood camp sponsored by their stake. The twins’ cousin, a young deacon, started teasing one of the older young men, which led to a scuffle. Vili quickly ran over and pulled them apart.
“I didn’t know the whole story,” Vili says. “I had a hardness in my heart. I was so mad.”
He nearly lost his temper and hit the other young man, but one of the adult leaders intervened. Vili recalls, “He said to me, ‘You hold the priesthood. You are an example. What happens if you hit him? You won’t feel the same and the others won’t look at you the same.’”
Vili had been asked to be a leader at the camp, where the theme was missionary preparation. Vili had prayed that the young men in his ward would feel the Spirit and want to serve missions. To help them commit, Vili had encouraged them to sign their names on a banner testifying that they would serve missions. All of them, including Vili, had signed it. Because of his commitment, he knew he had a responsibility to uphold.
“That night I prayed about [how I had reacted to the older young man] for a long time,” he says. “I realized that if I had gotten in a fight, I would have been kicked out of camp, and my life would have gone down from there. I didn’t want that. I repented. The next day, I was side-by-side with that boy—as friends.”
As a Church member, you have to focus on what it means to set the example. Sometimes that means choosing to be humble and repenting, even when you don’t want to.
Josh says, “It’s like football. People come at you, like temptations. You dodge, you go forward. And if you get hit, just as it is with sin, you have to get up and get ready for the next play.”

Thirty years ago, as a branch president, I was interviewing a man and his wife. The wife was tearing down her husband: he had not been the provider she had expected; he had not been the companion she had dreamed about before her marriage; they could not communicate together without arguing and attacking one another.
Her husband loved her, and yet she hurt him. There were tears in his eyes as he absorbed the verbal abuse. I couldn’t take any more as a twenty-one-year-old branch president, and asked, “Why do you hurt this person who loves you the most? Why do you hurt a husband who would do anything to help you?”
Her answer startled me. “Oh, I guess we argue and injure those we love because we can hurt them the most.”
I have never forgotten that incident. There is truth in that example. We can’t hurt a stranger as much as we can a loved one. We know just what to do to hurt our companions, parents, or brothers and sisters. We know where they are vulnerable. We know how they can be hurt the most by our actions. To many it seems to be a test of faith in life to be wounded by those closest to us. Of Jesus it is said in Zechariah that when asked where he had received the wounds in his hands, he would say that he “was wounded in the house of [his] friends.” (Zech. 13:6.) Isn’t it true that God, our Father, and his Son grieve when we sin? When we fail to be obedient and accept the atoning sacrifice of our Lord, aren’t we hurting Him who loves us most?

I share a final example that mortality works.
My mother did not have an easy journey through mortality. She received no accolades or worldly honors and did not have educational opportunities beyond high school. She contracted polio as a child, resulting in a lifetime of pain and discomfort in her left leg. As an adult, she experienced many difficult and challenging physical and financial circumstances but was faithful to her covenants and loved the Lord.
When my mother was 55, my next older sister passed away, leaving an eight-month-old baby daughter, my niece, motherless. For various reasons, Mom ended up largely raising my niece for the next 17 years, often under very trying circumstances. Yet, notwithstanding these experiences, she happily and willingly served her family, neighbors, and ward members and served as an ordinance worker in the temple for many years. During the last several years of her life, Mom suffered from a form of dementia, was often confused, and was confined to a nursing facility. Regrettably, she was alone when she passed away unexpectedly.
Several months after her passing, I had a dream I have never forgotten. In my dream, I was sitting in my office at the Church Administration Building. Mom entered the office. I knew she had come from the spirit world. I will always remember the feelings I had. She did not say anything, but she radiated a spiritual beauty that I had never before experienced and which I have difficulty describing.
Her countenance and being were truly stunning! I remember saying to her, “Mother, you are so beautiful!,” referencing her spiritual power and beauty. She acknowledged me—again without speaking. I felt her love for me, and I knew then that she is happy and healed from her worldly cares and challenges and eagerly awaits “a glorious resurrection.” I know that for Mom, mortality worked—and that it works for us too.

Lea and Mom were almost done shopping. Then Mom stopped to look at some clothes.
“I’ll be just a few minutes,” Mom said.
Lea sighed. When Mom said “a few minutes,” sometimes it meant 20!
Lea found a shelf of toys nearby. She flipped through a coloring book and then tossed a bouncy ball a few times. But that got boring pretty fast.
Then she pulled out something shiny and round. It was a yo-yo! It looked just like the one Oskar had brought to school last week. During recess he had showed everyone his fancy tricks. The tricks had names like “Walk the Dog” and “Around the World.” Lea had asked him if she could try, but Oskar wouldn’t let her.
Lea slipped the loop of the string over her finger. She let the yo-yo drop and then tugged on the string like she had seen Oskar do. The yo-yo hit the floor with a clunk. She tried again. After a few tries, she was able to bring the yo-yo back to her hand! If she could figure that out so quickly, she could probably learn to do all the tricks Oskar had done.
That’s when Lea looked at the price tag. She frowned. She didn’t have nearly that much in her money jar at home!
“I’m almost done, Lea,” Mom called.
Lea sighed. She was about to put the yo-yo back when an idea popped into her head. The yo-yo wasn’t very big. She could slip it into her pocket and keep it! The store owner wasn’t looking. No one would ever know. She could keep it forever and learn to do new tricks. And kids at school would think she was cool.
As Lea looked down at the yo-yo in her hand, she felt prickly and nervous. Her hands felt sweaty. She gripped the yo-yo tighter. What was this bad feeling? She wanted it to go away.
Then she remembered something Dad had told her before she got baptized.
“After you’re baptized, you’ll receive the gift of the Holy Ghost,” Dad had said. “The Holy Ghost helps us make good choices. He speaks to us in a still, small voice.”
“He’ll talk to me?” Lea asked.
“Not exactly,” Dad said. “It may be like a thought coming into your mind. Or a feeling coming into your heart.”
“What kind of feeling?”
“It’s different for each person,” Dad said. “But usually, when you do something good, the Holy Ghost will help you feel calm and peaceful. When there’s something dangerous, He will warn you. And when you want to do something wrong, the Holy Ghost will leave, and you’ll feel confused or unhappy.”
Lea looked down at the yo-yo. She really wanted it. But she knew the Holy Ghost was telling her that stealing was wrong.
Lea put the yo-yo back on the shelf. As soon as she did, she felt peaceful and warm. She walked back to Mom.
“I’m done,” Mom said. “Are you ready to go?”
Lea smiled. “Yes.”
As they left the store, Lea felt as light and happy as sunshine. The yo-yo might have been fun for a while. But following the Holy Ghost was something she wanted to do always.

Last June, I was on an assignment to South America. We were on a tight 10-day schedule visiting Colombia, Peru, and Ecuador. An enormous earthquake had killed hundreds, injured tens of thousands, damaged and destroyed homes and communities in the Ecuadorian cities of Portoviejo and Manta. I felt prompted to add to our schedule a visit to members living in those cities. With damage to the roads, we weren’t sure we could get there. In fact, we had been told we could not get there, but the prompting would not go away. Consequently, we were blessed and were able to visit both cities.

With such short notice, I expected that only a few local priesthood leaders would attend the hastily organized gatherings. However, we arrived at each stake center to find the chapels filled all the way back to the stage. Some who attended were the stalwarts of the region, the pioneers who had held fast to the Church, encouraging others to join them in worship and to feel the Spirit in their lives. Sitting on the front rows were the members who had lost loved ones and neighbors in the earthquake. I felt prompted to bestow an apostolic blessing upon all who were in attendance, one of my very first given. Though I was standing at the front of that room, it was as if my hands were on each of their heads, and I felt the words of the Lord pouring forth.

It didn’t end there. I felt prompted to speak to them just as Jesus Christ had done when visiting the people in the Americas. “He took their little children … and blessed them, and prayed unto the Father for them.”15 We were in Ecuador, we were about our Father’s business, and these were His children.

Dieuveut Demosthène, 18, and Robenson Marcel Laroque Jean, 19, are the best of friends. And they intend to keep it that way. Forever.
“We were neighbors, and we played basketball together,” Robenson explains. “I joined the Church when I was 16, and after a while I suggested to Dieuveut that he should come too. I prayed a lot, and I persisted. Now look at him, a strong member of the Church. I’m proud of him.”
“Robenson invited me many times,” Dieuveut says, “and over time I accepted. He has always spoken with superb words, like he understands everything. So his invitation wasn’t worrisome; it was extraordinary. After a while I started having lessons with the missionaries, and I joined the Church when I was 17.”
That’s the ideal way for missionary work to be done—friends sharing the gospel with friends and giving referrals to the missionaries to teach them. “From me—one person in the Church—now we are two, and we continue the same work together,” Robenson says. As a result of their efforts, one of Dieuveut’s big brothers and another friend have also joined the Church. One became two, and two became four.
Robenson and Dieuveut, from the Centrale Ward, Port-au-Prince Haiti North Stake, typify what is happening with missionary work in Haiti since missionaries from other countries were evacuated in 2005 because of political turmoil. The Haiti Port-au-Prince Mission has looked to itself for strength and found it. Today only Haitians serve missions in Haiti, and teens expect to serve when they come of age. Even before they’re called to full-time missions, they’re already reaching out to neighbors and friends.
Rather, Dieuveut says, as people realize the happiness the gospel brings, the Church in Haiti will keep growing. “I am truly grateful to Robenson for sharing the gospel with me,” he says, “and that’s why I want to share the gospel with others. Last week I asked myself, in the past did I know what joy was? Because today, even if I don’t have everything materially that I want, I always feel at peace with myself. I have a great hope that I will be close to my Heavenly Father.”
“I’m already trying to be a missionary,” Robenson says. “Each day I carry my backpack with several copies of the Book of Mormon in it, just to share with others. Many of them know I’m a member of the Church, and I’m eager to share my testimony. To go on a full-time mission will be a great opportunity to serve God by serving His children. It is my great desire to go.”
Dieuveut says he often talks with returned missionaries. “They have told me how the Lord was able to bless people through the missionaries, and I would like to share in such blessings. They have told me how they lived in the mission field, how much they enjoyed it. Also, after their missions, they are worthy, good examples. I want to be like that.”
What will the future bring? “Heavenly Father has His plan for Haiti,” Dieuveut says. “He is giving members here the opportunity to become strong. It is Haitians teaching Haitians, and that will bless us.”
Robenson will soon receive his mission call, and he hopes it’s to Haiti. Dieuveut won’t be far behind and also hopes to serve in his native land. But whether they’re called to Haiti or to some other country, they know that they will make many more friends in the Church and that their own friendship will continue. Because when you’re friends in the gospel, you’re friends for eternity.

This story happened in South Korea.
Jayne took one last bite of her noodles. Mmmm. Delicious!
“Let’s play Yut Nori!” Uncle Ji-Ho said.
It was that time of year again! Her family was celebrating Chuseok, Korean Thanksgiving. Today Jayne’s family had gathered to eat lots of food and play Yut Nori together. Yut Nori was Jayne’s favorite game.
Everyone sat in a circle on the floor. Jayne looked around. What team did she want to be on? She scooted over to sit next to Uncle Ji-Ho. “I want to be on your team!” she said. “We’re going to be the big winners!”
Uncle Ji-Ho laughed. “With you on our team, we sure have a good chance!”
Jayne’s mom set the game board in the middle of the circle. Jayne helped her set out the pieces. They passed the four sticks to the team that would go first.
Jayne’s cousin Ana took the first turn. She threw the sticks into the air. The way the sticks landed showed how many spaces that team could move on the game board. All four sticks were facing down, which meant that Ana got a Yut! She got to move her team’s piece forward four spaces and got an extra turn.
But Ana was not on Jayne’s team.
Jayne folded her arms and frowned. “I was hoping she wouldn’t have a good throw,” she whispered to Uncle Ji-Ho.
“Cheer up!” Uncle Ji-Ho said. “The game just started.” He gave her an encouraging smile.
After Ana’s second turn, Jayne’s team threw the sticks. But they didn’t get to move their pieces as far as Ana’s team did.
With every turn, Jayne’s family members cheered and laughed. Jayne watched the game pieces move around the board. Everyone was having fun.
Everyone but Jayne. Her team was still losing.
Finally it was Jayne’s turn. She threw the sticks in the air, but only one landed face down. Her team’s piece moved forward only one space.
Jayne folded her arms. “I quit!” she yelled. “I wanted us to win.”
Suddenly, everyone was quiet. When she looked up, her family was staring at her. They seemed surprised that she was so angry.
Jayne’s face felt hot. She felt bad that she wasn’t happy for her family. She didn’t usually get so mad. She stood up to leave the circle.
Uncle Ji-Ho put a hand out. “You don’t have to leave,” he said. “Winning isn’t everything. Just try to have fun.”
“OK.” Jayne sat back down. She wanted to have fun like everyone else. She took a deep breath and watched her cousin Ben toss the sticks.
“Nice turn, Ben!” Uncle Ji-Ho said. He sounded happy.
Jayne looked at Uncle Ji-Ho with wide eyes. He was cheering for the other team! Maybe that was why he was having so much fun.
As the next turn began, Jayne decided to cheer for everyone on both teams. Uncle Ji-Ho was right. Winning wasn’t everything. Jesus could help her be happy for her family members even if she lost.
When it was Ana’s turn again, Jayne smiled at her. “Good luck! You’ve got this.”
From across the circle, Ana smiled back. Jayne felt warm inside. She was having more fun already!

Our priest quorum meeting had come to an end.
“That’s all the announcements and assignments,” said our quorum adviser, Brother Reed. “Oh, but I would like to see Greg and Tom Glenn after class, if you boys wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh, no” I thought to myself. “I guess we’re in some kind of trouble.” I bowed my head, folded my arms, and hoped that the closing prayer would never end.
We both knew why Brother Reed wanted to see us. Tom and I hadn’t been on time to priesthood meeting for weeks. Sometimes we didn’t get there at all, and sometimes we crept silently through the door and slipped into the back row, just in time to get our sacrament meeting assignments and leave.
Now, it wasn’t because we were sleeping late or wasting time at home. On the contrary. We were wide awake every morning at 4:30 to do the chores on the dairy farm where we lived. Dad had recently had a heart attack, so Tom and I had the responsibility to milk the cows and clean the place, and do all the other dairy work. We had the cows on an established schedule which easily got us to school on time during the week; but on Sundays, finishing everything, then showering and dressing for priesthood at 7:30 was difficult. With all the work that needed to be done, we thought we were doing well to get to priesthood meeting at all.
Evidently, though, our priests quorum adviser didn’t think so. After everyone else had left the room, Brother Reed pulled a chair up close to us. “Boys,” he said in a surprisingly gentle tone, “there’s really something missing from the quorum when you’re not here. What am I doing wrong? Are my lessons bad, or is it something I do personally that offends you?”
We thought we were going to be chastised, but here was Brother Reed, thinking he was the reason we were late. We both started explaining that it wasn’t his fault at all, and we told him about the work at the dairy.
“Well, would it do any good if I came over early on Sunday and helped with the work a little? It would be a privilege for me, and might help you get to priesthood meeting on time. What do you say? What time does the work start?” he asked.
Tom and I had the same thought at the same time. We couldn’t let Brother Reed do that. First of all, 4:30 was far too early to get anyone out of bed and away from his family on a Sunday morning. Second, we didn’t want him to have to endure the below freezing winter weather. And third, there wasn’t that much he could do anyway because we wouldn’t give him any of the really dirty work.
So when he asked us when we started, we told him 3:30 A.M., thinking that no sane person would get up that early, no matter how helpful he wanted to be. We thanked Brother Reed for his sincere offer to help, shook his hand, and assured him that we would try to make more of an effort to be at our meetings on time in the future.
We didn’t think about his offer much for the rest of the week, until Sunday when I got out of bed at about 4:15 on a very cold morning. I looked out the window and was shocked to see Brother Reed’s old car parked outside our house. I quickly put my clothes on, ran outside, and tapped on his car window.
“Good morning,” he said cheerfully as he opened the car window. His words formed small icy clouds in the air between us. He reached out to shake my hand, and I noticed his grasp was one of the coldest I’d ever felt. It was obvious he’d been waiting for some time—probably since 3:30.
“Come inside while Tom gets dressed,” I said as I led him into the house. Then I ran to make sure Tom was ready for work.
In a few minutes, Brother Reed, Tom, and I were trudging through the snow to the barn. The one thing we hadn’t exaggerated about was the amount of work there was to do, and Brother Reed did the best he could.
As we milked the cows, Brother Reed paused for a second and rather timidly asked, “Do you suppose I could have just a little sip of that milk? I’ve almost forgotten what fresh milk tastes like.”
We felt great concern for our quorum adviser. Not only did we give him a drink, but we packaged several liters of milk for him to take home to his family. It was the least we could do for him.
It was getting closer and closer to the time for priesthood meeting to begin, and the work still wasn’t finished. Finally Brother Reed told us he would have to go home and get ready for church. “Now I understand why it’s so hard for you boys to get to class on time. I’ll try to be a little more considerate in the future,” he said as he wiped the sweat from his forehead and walked out of the barn to his car.
You should have seen the look of surprise on his face when he arrived at church to find Tom and me already there. We had decided that if he cared enough to come out on a bitterly cold morning to help us, we could work a little faster and help him. I can’t honestly say that we were both on time for every meeting from then on, but we did always see that at least one of us was there every Sunday.
And we discovered that Brother Reed’s lessons were actually very good. But none of them ever compared to the lesson he taught us about service and love on that cold winter morning.

But years later, I was deceived again and ended up in another abusive relationship. When I broke away, I found out I was pregnant again. I didn’t want to place the baby. I was older than before, and I felt like I could be a good mom. I met with my bishop and a social worker. I started following the same process that I had before in praying about adoption, but nothing ever seemed to click. It always felt difficult.
I still went to church. Sometimes ward members would say they were surprised to see me there pregnant, which hurt a little. But I still went every week. I wanted people to see that what I had done reflected a choice I had made but that it didn’t define who I was. I worked with my bishop to move forward.
As my due date grew closer, I started to panic. With my first baby, I’d had a plan, but this one was so different. I didn’t feel like I was receiving a strong answer regarding any option for my baby. I let the couple whom I had placed my first baby with know that I was pregnant but unsure of whether I would place, and that if I did place, I would want them to raise this baby as well.
After I had the baby, I still felt unsure. Then my doctor came in to check on us and said, “I don’t know if you’ll be able to have children again, so love this little one.” While that may not be the answer for everyone, I felt the Spirit confirm that this was the right choice for me. After panicking for nine months, I felt peace. I let the couple know that I had decided to parent my daughter.
I wanted to be the best mom I could be, and I knew that the only way to do that was staying close to family and the Lord’s Church. I knew that what I had learned in the gospel of Jesus Christ would help her like it had helped me.

When Harold B. Lee was young, he learned to play many instruments, including the French horn and the piano. In high school, he earned money by joining the Preston Military Band. They played at nearly every community event!
Little did he know that his musical skills would help in the mission field, too.
Harold: I have been called to serve in the Western States Mission! I report to Salt Lake City to be set apart, and then I’ll go to Denver, Colorado.
Harold’s father: Congratulations, my boy. Your mother and I expect big things from you.
Harold didn’t want to let his parents down, but he was nervous. He had never seen a city as big as Salt Lake City.
Harold: Excuse me, but I think I’m lost. I’m looking for the Church Office Building. I have a very important appointment, and I don’t want to be late.
Stranger: Don’t worry—it’s that building right over there.
After being set apart, Elder Lee boarded a train and rode to Denver. The mission president, John M. Knight, and a group of missionaries met him.
President Knight: Welcome to Colorado, Elder Lee. Meet your companion, Elder Woodbury.
Elder Woodbury: Pleased to meet you, Elder Lee. Tell me about yourself.
Elder Woodbury: You play the piano? Wait till I show you my cello! Maybe we can practice together.
They did more than practice! Elder Woodbury began carrying his cello with him everywhere. When someone answered their knock at the door, they would offer to play a duet.
Woman at the door: Yes, I have a piano. I’d like to hear you play. Please come in.
Harold: If it’s all right with you, we’ll share a message about Jesus Christ and the restored gospel, too.
Elder Lee made many friends on his mission through “playing and preaching.” He was thankful that he had taken the time to develop musical talents so he could use them to serve Heavenly Father.

“Oh no! Why did it have to snow?” five-year-old Carl said as he looked out the front window. He frowned as he watched the snowflakes fall. “Mom, does that mean our picnic at the park is canceled?”
“Until another day, I guess,” Mom said from the kitchen. “We can’t really have a picnic in the snow.”
“I wish the sun would come out and melt the snow,” Carl said.
Carl’s frown got bigger when his little brother came into the room holding Carl’s favorite toy car.
“That’s my car, Jared!” Carl said as he grabbed the toy.
Jared started to cry. Carl felt his stomach turn into a knot, and he frowned even more.
He walked into the kitchen, taking his car with him. “Not oatmeal again, Mom. Can’t we have pancakes instead?”
“Not today, Carl. Dad has to hurry or he’ll be late for work,” Mom said.
Carl sat down. His frown sank deeper and deeper.
“Where’s my happy lunch maker?” Dad asked as he walked into the room.
Carl looked up at Dad and frowned.
Dad started singing, “If you chance to meet a frown, do not let it stay. Quickly turn it upside down and smile that frown away.”*
All of a sudden, Carl felt Dad’s strong arms lift him off the chair and gently turn him upside down. Carl felt his frown melt away as he looked at Dad’s upside-down smiling face. He started smiling, and then laughed. Dad started laughing too, and then Mom and Jared did. Before long the whole family was laughing.
“Let’s turn the day right side up again. OK, everybody?” Dad sat Carl back down in the chair.
“OK, Dad,” Carl said.
Dad went to finish getting ready for work. Carl hurried and got an apple and carrots and put them in Dad’s lunch bag. Then he found another toy car in his room and gave it to Jared. He quickly set the table for breakfast and then sat down with a big smile on his face.
Just then Dad walked back into the kitchen. “Looks like everything is right side up again!” he said.
“Mom, can we have a picnic for lunch today inside the house?” Carl asked.
Mom smiled. “Sure. Just as long as we don’t have to eat upside down!”

Every Saturday, it’s my responsibility to service one of the vending routes my dad owns in the Phoenix, Arizona, area. I drive on the sparsely populated freeway, listen to ’70s music, and enjoy the rare time alone. I love the long distances between the various locations of family entertainment centers and pizza restaurants. My first time making the rounds, however, proved to be more than just a way to earn some extra money and enjoy my time alone.
I had serviced all the booths without incident and felt pretty confident about my skills as a driver and my knowledge of the extensive freeway system in the valley. However, as I drove toward home, I soon found myself in unfamiliar territory and had no idea where I was. Frustrated more than worried, I picked up my dad’s cellular phone, swallowed my pride, and dialed home. No answer.
Getting a little anxious and noticing that I had wandered into a rougher part of town, I locked my doors and dialed again. No answer. I had no idea how to get home, and looking at my directions gave little help. I knew I needed my Heavenly Father and paused to pray. I thanked Him for the opportunity to earn extra money and humbly asked for His assistance to end my predicament. I closed my prayer and paused for a moment to listen. About a minute later, the phone sounded its computerized ring.
“Hello,” I answered.
My dad’s voice crackled through, “Raquel, how are things going? I’m out with your mom, and I felt I needed to call.”
Gratefully, I explained my situation, and he told me where I was and what I needed to do to get home. We disconnected, and I said a simple prayer of thanks, with unbidden tears streaming down my cheeks.
Most likely, I would have found my way home eventually. I doubt even that my situation was very dangerous, but the experience gave me firsthand knowledge that my Heavenly Father listened to my prayers. Now, when serious decisions are thrown my way or when heartfelt questions must be asked, I know He’s near, giving me faith and confidence. Whether I’m lost in an unfamiliar section of town, or lost in an unfamiliar section of life, I know without a doubt He cares and listens.

Ethan Mangum’s path towards his mission in Reno, Nevada, was significantly shaped by the islands he called home throughout his life. Having lived in four island nations across the Caribbean and the Pacific, Ethan credits the people he encountered in these paradisiacal locations for strengthening his resolve to serve as a missionary. He recalls, “When you live overseas, missionary work isn’t something you do once a week, it’s a part of your daily life. People know who you are. They know you are a disciple of Jesus Christ, and they expect you to act differently; to truly live the values you say you will live. That is something I learned from the members who were my friends and adopted family. They taught me that being a disciple of Christ is just part of your life.”
Ethan’s journey began when he moved to St. Kitts and Nevis as an infant. He heard stories from his family about the joy of meeting with faithful Saints in members’ living rooms, emphasizing that the gospel remains true even when the congregation is small. One of his favorite stories of faith during this time is of an ocean baptism where torrential rains halted just long enough for the members to walk to the beach, perform the ordinance, and return to their makeshift chapel before the downpour resumed.
From the Caribbean, Ethan’s adventures led him to Aruba, where he heard English, Dutch, Spanish, and of course Papiamentu spoken as he met with his branch family. In the San Nicolas Branch, he witnessed not only the Saints’ faith but also the daily acts of service they performed for one another and learned that the Lord’s love is not bound by language or nationality.
Next, his journey took him to the enchanting rainforests and towering peaks of Fiji in the South Pacific, where he attended schools of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints near the Suva Fiji Temple. During his seven years there, he encountered numerous miracles brought about by the unwavering faith of the members. He vividly remembers a cyclone that threatened the rededication of the Suva Fiji Temple. He recalls, “We stopped the cultural show early and went home to wait out the storm. We were asked to pray that the storm would be redirected so that the rededication could happen the next day. The faith of the members was strong, and the temple was spared. Even though there was destruction across Suva and other parts of Fiji, the temple grounds were clean. Not a tree branch was out of place, and the rededication proceeded with tears of joy.”
Ethan’s faith continued to grow as he witnessed another remarkable event, where collective prayer changed the course of a storm that threatened President Russell M. Nelson’s arrival in Suva. They greeted him by singing “We Thank Thee O God, for a Prophet” and President Nelson responded to their faith, saying, “I wondered if you could do it. You turned off the rain.”
After his time in the Pacific, Ethan returned to the Caribbean island of Antigua, the land of 365 beaches. There, he found a community of Saints from various islands, and South and Central America, who welcomed him with open arms. Despite the pandemic disrupting in-person meetings, Ethan continued to witness selfless service and the tender mercies of the Lord in the lives of His children.
After Antigua, Ethan briefly resided in the Orlando, Florida area, where he was inspired by the selfless service of Caribbean-origin members who strengthened his desire to serve a mission. His family and island friends and loved ones are thrilled for his opportunity to serve in the intermountain northwest, where he was born.
Ethan reflects on his island upbringing with gratitude, saying, “I am so grateful to have been raised in the islands. The people of the islands are kind, compassionate, and love the Lord. They have been an example to me of living the gospel of Jesus Christ in their everyday lives and have influenced my decision to serve a mission. I know the gospel is true. I know that Jesus Christ, our brother, died for us. I know that Joseph Smith restored the gospel in these latter days so that we could have the opportunity to know peace in this life, to share the gospel with others, and one day return to live with our Heavenly Father. I am thankful to be able to share this message with the people of Nevada, and wherever my future travels may take me, including when I return to the Caribbean and the Pacific, I can continue to spread the gospel.”

Barbara Matovu remembers the first time the missionaries brought her to the center for an activity to meet other young single adults. She thought she knew what to expect.
“Throughout my life I’ve always had a group that I belonged to,” explains Barbara. “And the groups were always stamped with something—you were the sporty group or the international group or some other group. So when people started coming into the center, it was so strange because no one seemed to have the attitude of ‘I’m in the popular group, so I can’t talk to you.’
“At first, I thought, ‘Are they acting? Is this a show?’ But after a while I realized it actually doesn’t matter who we are or where we come from or which language we speak. The love of our Heavenly Father is for everyone. Usually it takes me a bit of time to find my group, but this time I felt like I didn’t need a group. I was just Barbara, and I could be Barbara for everybody.”

But there have been lives lost in fires in homes not equipped with detectors. That’s why the fire department will give the detectors away free. The problem is getting them distributed and installed correctly. The fire department was so pleased when nearly 200 volunteers, young people and their leaders attending the combined Shreveport Louisiana Stake and Longview Texas Stake youth conference, offered to install smoke detectors as a service project.
These youth-conference-attending teens were excited to participate in service that had such immediate and personal contact with the people they were sent to help. Besides installing the warning voice of the smoke detector, the youth wanted to distribute another type of warning call, an invitation to come unto Christ. With that in mind, they each wrote their testimonies of Christ on a sheet of paper enfolding a small picture of Christ. To each person they visited, they would give this precious gift also.
First, the teens and their leaders were divided into small groups of between six and eight. They were instructed in the way to correctly install the detectors. They listened as Captain Jimmy Hall of the Shreveport Fire Department assured them that at least one of the detectors they would install that day would save someone’s life. “You are going to make a difference,” he said as they gathered their tools and headed for their assigned cars.
At first, the groups delivered detectors to those families who had requested them. A small article had run in the local paper encouraging those without detectors to call the fire department. Each group also canvassed the surrounding neighborhood.
“One of the homes where we put in an alarm had a fire last month. It had burned some cabinets in the kitchen,” said Jeffrey Loftin, 15, Brownlee Ward, Shreveport Louisiana Stake. “The project was really personal. Talking to the people was the best. It made me feel like a missionary.”
At first, some people were a little frightened to see a bunch of teenagers gathered outside their doors. “A lady answered the door,” said Melissa Carrell, 16, New Boston Ward, Shreveport Louisiana Stake. “She was scared of us because we were a bunch of kids. But she let us in. She appreciated what we were doing.”
Spreading their testimonies of Christ was a thrilling experience for most of the youth conference participants. They live in a part of the United States where many things are misunderstood about the Church. They often attend schools as one of only a few members. They are constantly having to explain that they are believers in Jesus Christ. “In striving to live my Young Women values,” said Jennifer Malone, 15, Longview Third Ward, Longview Texas Stake, “I’m also striving to teach people the gospel in my own way. I give out copies of the Book of Mormon left and right because it just seems that if I can, I should spread the gospel. It makes me beam with joy when I say that I know, without a doubt, no questions in my mind, that the Church is true.”
Handing out their testimonies with pictures of the Savior offered them a chance to talk to people about their beliefs. In nearly every case, the people listened respectfully to the things these teens talked about. And they spoke of their love for their Savior Jesus Christ. “The Savior’s suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane,” said Kimberly Hester, 16, Marshall Ward, Longview Texas Stake, “helps me to understand that He knows exactly how I feel. I’m grateful for everything He’s done for me and how my prayers have been answered.”
This was the first youth conference Chris Windham, 14, of the Nacogdoches Ward, Longview Texas Stake, had attended. He had fun at the dances, listened to the speakers, and filled up on good food. But his strongest memory might be when his group came to the final house as they installed their last smoke detector. It was Chris’s turn to talk to the homeowner and explain their purpose. Each group member had taken a turn being the one to handle the screwdriver, hold the ladder, or do the talking.
At this house, it was Chris’s turn to talk. He reached for a picture of Christ. It was supposed to have someone’s testimony written in the accompanying paper. But they had run short, and the paper was blank.
Chris handed the picture to the man they had just met. He said, “I don’t have a written testimony to give you with this picture of Christ.”
He paused. The adult leaders, who were standing behind him, glanced at each other. What was Chris going to do?
As Chris said later, the Spirit was urging him to tell this man what he believed. So, without hesitation, Chris bore his testimony with power and conviction to someone he had just met. “I know that Christ lived, and that He suffered and died for us. …”
As Chris spoke, tears sprang to the eyes of the man listening. He carefully held the picture of Christ, with head bowed, and listened to the words of a 14-year-old boy.
For a few days, the LDS youth in these two stakes didn’t feel so few in numbers. They were a force for good, and they pulled strength from being together. They bore their testimonies, in writing and in testimony meeting.
Melanie Paul, 16, Coushatta Branch, Shreveport Louisiana Stake, said about their written testimonies, “These are going to people who may change their lives. I stressed the influence of Jesus Christ in my life. They may never get another chance to hear a testimony from a member of the Church. When you start writing, you aren’t just saying empty phrases. It’s true.”
This group also wanted to take sides against a chorus of bad influences. “The advertising is all aimed at kids our age,” said John Daniels, 18, Queen City Ward, Shreveport Louisiana Stake, “encouraging us to smoke, to drink, to do other things. We need someone on the other side, warning us, telling us where we can go wrong and how to avoid it.”
The voice of warning against the vices of the world may not be as loud and strident as a smoke detector, but for those with ears to hear, it is just as compelling, a voice of warning that may save someone’s life eternally.

Jack McConnell grew up in the hills of southwest Virginia in the United States as one of seven children of a Methodist minister and a stay-at-home mother. Their circumstances were very humble. He recounted that during his childhood, every day as the family sat around the dinner table, his father would ask each one in turn, “And what did you do for someone today?”1 The children were determined to do a good turn every day so they could report to their father that they had helped someone. Dr. McConnell calls this exercise his father’s most valuable legacy, for that expectation and those words inspired him and his siblings to help others throughout their lives. As they grew and matured, their motivation for providing service changed to an inner desire to help others.
Besides Dr. McConnell’s distinguished medical career—where he directed the development of the tuberculosis tine test, participated in the early development of the polio vaccine, supervised the development of Tylenol, and was instrumental in developing the magnetic resonance imaging procedure, or MRI—he created an organization he calls Volunteers in Medicine, which gives retired medical personnel a chance to volunteer at free clinics serving the working uninsured. Dr. McConnell said his leisure time since he retired has “evaporated into 60-hour weeks of unpaid work, but [his] energy level has increased and there is a satisfaction in [his] life that wasn’t there before.” He made this statement: “In one of those paradoxes of life, I have benefited more from Volunteers in Medicine than my patients have.”2 There are now over 90 such clinics across the United States.

“Come on, Danny,” Jim called, “let’s practice diving.”
“I’m coming,” Danny replied, scowling as he read the notice beside the dressing room door at the swimming pool.
“How can a guy be in two places at the same time?” he grumbled.
Tryouts for the swim team were scheduled for two o’clock on Saturday—the same day and the same time he’d promised Mr. Duncan he would pitch in an exhibition baseball game for the boys and girls at the school for handicapped children. But when Danny had agreed to pitch for the game, he had forgotten that the team tryouts would be on the same day.
“Watch this,” Jim yelled as he dived into the pool.
Danny gave a whistle of admiration and thought, Jim will make the team for sure. I guess I’ll just have to tell Mr. Duncan I can’t pitch that game because I want to be in the tryouts.
“I hope we both make the team,” Jim said. “It means that we’d be invited to compete in the state swim meet and that we could swim in an Olympic-size pool.”
“Dreamer,” Danny chuckled. “OK, let’s practice diving. We’ve got to sharpen up before the tryouts.”
As he stood on the diving board the swinging doors leading to the pool opened and a boy he had never seen before came in with a woman helping him. His arms and hands were moving all the time and his head wobbled a little. He was having trouble walking, and his legs didn’t seem to go where he wanted them to. A lump caught in Danny’s throat as he thought, I’ll bet he’s from the handicap school.
“Let’s go in here, Richard,” the lady said. “The pool is shallow at this end.”
“OK,” Richard agreed.
Danny didn’t want to hear anymore. He quickly dived into the water and swam for the ladder. “Jim,” he said, climbing out, “I’m going to get out for a little while.”
“What’s the matter?” Jim asked, puzzled.
“I have a problem,” Danny replied. “I think I’ll go home. If you want to come along, I’ll tell you about it.”
Later, as they walked along, Danny explained his problem to Jim. Then he said, “I had made up my mind to tell Mr. Duncan I couldn’t pitch that game because I really want to try out for the swim team. But when I saw that boy who could hardly walk and might never have a chance to catch a ball. …” His voice trailed off. “Jim, what would you do if you were me?”
“Me?” Jim said. “I’d try out for the swim team. Danny, you can’t always be worrying about other people.”
“I guess not,” Danny agreed and went over to see Mr. Duncan.
“I’m glad you stopped by,” Mr. Duncan said. “I just received this letter from the youngsters at the handicap school. They’re really excited about our game.” He showed Danny the letter. “But we have a problem—we’re short of players and are going to have to find some substitutes.”
Danny read the letter, and then he felt worse than ever. Somehow he didn’t have the heart to tell Mr. Duncan now that he wouldn’t be able to pitch the exhibition game. He handed the letter back and said, “You’ll find somebody, I’m sure.”
“How about your friends, Danny? Would they help out?”
Danny shook his head. “I don’t think they can. The game is scheduled at the same time as the swim team tryouts. Most of my friends will be there.”
“I see,” Mr. Duncan said. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to keep on looking.” Then the older man put his arm around Danny and added, “We’re counting on you though, Danny. I’ll stop to pick you up on Saturday.”
Danny’s hope collapsed. “All right,” he answered and left. Now he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t think that the swim coach would change the tryout time till later just for one boy.
All the rest of the week Danny and Jim practiced swimming and diving. They worked hard, laughed, and had fun, but best of all they improved their form and strokes and were sure they could make the team. However, Danny’s promise to Mr. Duncan to play in the game Saturday kept crowding into his mind. He knew he would soon have to decide what he was going to do.
“Who did Mr. Duncan get for substitutes?” Jim asked, bobbing to the surface of the water.
“I don’t know,” Danny said. “I wish I did.”
He had a heavy, uneasy feeling on Saturday while putting on his swim trunks. He sat down on his bed, his thoughts completely mixed up. Then he thought of something that was at least worth a try, and he pulled his baseball suit on over his swim trunks.
Right on the dot, Mr. Duncan arrived in his station wagon. The same boy Danny had seen at the pool was with Mr. Duncan. Danny gulped. “Hi, Richard,” he said, and the boy’s face brightened as he returned the greeting.
Mr. Duncan nodded at Danny and then said disappointedly, “We had to call off the game because we couldn’t find enough substitutes.”
Danny looked at Richard and thought about the other boys and girls at the school who had counted on seeing a baseball game. He knew he couldn’t disappoint them. The idea that had come to him was so simple he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before.
“Mr. Duncan,” Danny said, “would you mind driving over to my school for a minute? Maybe we can have that ball game after all.”
Danny caught the swim coach, Mr. Webb, in the hall and asked if the tryouts could be held later in the afternoon so that the boys could play baseball for the handicapped children.
“I wish you’d talked to me about this earlier,” Mr. Webb told Danny. “Some of the boys are already in the pool. However, I’ll see what I can do. It sounds like a great idea to do something for those boys and girls. They have a rough time and the least we can do is arrange for a baseball game if they’ve been counting on it.”
Pushing through the double doors that led to the swimming pool, Mr. Webb blew his whistle and when the boys gathered around, he explained to them why Danny was in his baseball uniform instead of in his swim trunks.
“If any of you would be willing to go over to the school and play a quick exhibition baseball game, I’d be willing to postpone the tryouts for a couple of hours,” the coach promised.
The boys looked at each other. No one spoke for a few moments. Then Jim said, “Well, I think Danny has a great idea. Sometimes it’s good to worry about other people. I’m willing.”
“Me, too,” the other boys agreed.
“Thanks, guys,” Danny said. He smiled at Jim, who gave him an understanding wink in return, and then Danny hurried out to tell Mr. Duncan and Richard the good news.