Gospel Story Finder

Read your scriptures. “It’s one of the best ways to come closer to Heavenly Father and to have your problems answered,” says Doralee Solomon, 17, of the Douglas Georgia Stake. “You can always go to your scriptures for help and get answers.” At one time Doralee had a friend who was smoking, and she didn’t know what to do about it. She didn’t know whether she should talk to the person, the bishop, or the parents. But after reading, praying, and listening to her Young Women lessons, she knew she needed to confront her friend. “I know reading my scriptures helped put me in tune for an answer,” Doralee says.

Once, while I was on a solo flight over mountain country, my airplane was suddenly engulfed in a thick cloud. I could barely see the tip of the wing out the right window. Below me, the fields, the miniature houses, and the ribbons of road wrapping up the green valley floor had vanished. A Cessna 150 has no radar, and with the familiar landmarks gone, I panicked. Was I too low? How close were the mountains? Disorientation could prove fatal.
At that instant I remembered my flight instructor’s words: “Return to remembrance of past sunshine.” I took a deep breath and coaxed the plane into a 180-degree turn. The clouds began to thin, and sunshine returned. I saw a tiny tractor below, changing a field from yellow to brown. No one heard me shout for joy.

One day at school, a classmate and I somehow entered into the topic of religion. My classmate became a little antagonistic and started to criticize what I believed.
She looked me in the face and said, “You believe in your Church only because your parents raised you in it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t believe.”
I don’t remember what I said to her, but I kept thinking about her comment and wondering why she would say that. I had been raised in the Church, and, really, I had never questioned the Church’s teachings or doctrines. Ever since I was little, I felt the Church was true. Before I was even baptized, our family read the Book of Mormon together, and I knew it was true. I didn’t just believe; I knew it and had no doubts. But I couldn’t define a particular moment when I had received that witness. For some time that bothered me. I wanted to have a particular experience when I would pray and immediately the answer would come rushing to me. It never happened.
But what I could define was a moment when my testimony was confirmed. After my first year of high school, I went with some other youth on a tour to Church history sites. When we arrived at the Sacred Grove, our tour guide invited us to seek a personal confirmation that what had happened there was true: that God the Father and Jesus Christ appeared to Joseph Smith and initiated the Restoration. I found a quiet place in the grove and read the account of the First Vision. Then I knelt down and prayed. I already knew the First Vision had happened and that Joseph Smith was a prophet. But I asked anyway. I finished my prayer, and nothing happened. No grand feeling, no vision, no angels. Nothing.
I found a rock and sat down and opened my patriarchal blessing and started to read. My blessing mentioned the Restoration of the gospel, and in my head the words repeated: “You already know. You already know.”
If I could go back to that moment when my friend challenged what I believed, I don’t know how I would describe how I know the Church is true. But I wish I had told her that while my parents had taught me what they knew to be true, I had to find that answer for myself. And I did.
I didn’t need to go to the Sacred Grove to know the Church was true. I didn’t need any great experience to know the Church was true. I just needed to be reminded, “You already know.”

While I was a mission president in Texas, I was informed that a particular missionary had lost his testimony and wanted to go home. Some checking disclosed that doubts of the divinity of his call had been planted in the young man’s mind by an investigator. In an interview with the so-called investigator, I experienced special discernment that enabled me to know that the man was actually a minister of another religion, posing as a college student and pretending to be honestly examining the Church. Confronted with what had been revealed to me, he became confused and admitted his fraud. With the truth known, the missionary stayed and completed an honorable mission.

Many years ago, while I was mending a fence, a small sliver of wood entered into my finger. I made a meager attempt to remove the sliver and thought I had done so, but apparently I had not. As time went on, skin grew over the sliver, creating a lump on my finger. It was annoying and sometimes painful.

Years later I decided to finally take action. All I did was simply apply ointment to the lump and cover it with a bandage. I repeated this process frequently. You cannot imagine my surprise when one day, as I removed the bandage, the sliver had emerged from my finger.

The ointment had softened the skin and created an escape for the very thing that had caused pain for so many years. Once the sliver was removed, the finger quickly healed, and to this day, there remains no evidence of any injury.

Years ago I visited a school in Albuquerque. The teacher told me about a youngster who brought a kitten to class. As you can imagine, that disrupted everything. She had him hold the kitten up in front of the children.

It went well until one of the children asked, “Is it a boy kitty or a girl kitty?”

Not wanting to get into that lesson, the teacher said, “It doesn’t matter. It’s just a kitty.”

But they persisted. Finally, one boy raised his hand and said, “I know how you can tell.”

Resigned to face it, the teacher said, “How can you tell?”

And the student answered, “You can vote on it!”

You may laugh at this story, but if we are not alert, there are those today who not only tolerate but advocate voting to change laws that would legalize immorality, as if a vote would somehow alter the designs of God’s laws and nature. A law against nature would be impossible to enforce. For instance, what good would a vote against the law of gravity do?

When I was 19, my family lost everything. Life became overwhelmingly difficult for my mother, my siblings, and me. The uncertainty of our future weighed heavily on me. We often lacked sufficient food, and although my mother bravely hid her distress, I could see through her façade. Despair took hold of me, and I spiraled into hopelessness, convinced that my life would never amount to anything. In one of my moments of despair, I distinctly recall a voice in my mind asking, “Is this how your life is going to end? This is not who you are. You have the power to rise and shine. Just have a bit of faith.”
At the time, my younger sister had recently joined the Church. She frequently invited me to attend young single adult (YSA) activities, but I always declined—perhaps out of pride, feeling that I should lead the way as the older sibling. However, after my epiphany, I accepted her invitation. When I arrived at the YSA event, I intended to remain unnoticed, sitting quietly at the back. Yet a greeter at the door welcomed me warmly, and others approached me with genuine interest and kindness. They embraced me as their own and invited me to join in their activities. Surprisingly, I was surrounded by young people my age who radiated positivity and were full of joy. I felt truly loved and accepted for the first time in a long while.
My sister’s consistent invitations to church activities and the love and acceptance I received from the young single adults transformed my life. As I embraced the gospel of Jesus Christ, my faith grew. Though my future remained uncertain, I felt a renewed hope and peace. I was baptized in April 1997, and through that sacred ordinance, I came to understand that the voice I had heard during my epiphany earlier was the Holy Ghost. I am grateful for the constant companionship of the Spirit in my life today.
Faith, even in its most miniature form, can spark profound change. The Savior taught: “If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you” (Matthew 17:20). The love, sharing, and inviting extended to me by my sister and the YSA community led me to the missionaries and, ultimately, to the waters of baptism. I witnessed a mountain in my life shift, and my heart and circumstances transformed. This journey deepened my testimony of Jesus Christ.
Today, my family (my wife and children) enjoys the blessings of the gospel, including the sacred privilege of being sealed together in the temple. From despair to divine hope, we have been showered with the Lord’s blessings. I testify that Jesus is the Christ and that we are led by a living prophet today. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

The Primary children of the Nauvoo First Ward eagerly watched as the temple rose from a large hole in the ground. They wanted to help in building this house of the Lord, but they couldn’t do any actual physical work, such as cutting the stones or carpentry or electrical work. They decided to answer President Hinckley’s call for Church members to make donations for this special temple. But how? Their Primary leaders found the answer in a story* about the original temple there:
A penny fund would be the perfect way for the Primary children of the Nauvoo First Ward to help! Every child could find a way to contribute pennies, and the money would be used to buy a tree to plant on the temple grounds. That way, each time the children went there, they would see a reminder of their sacrifices and contributions. And as the tree was growing, they would also be growing and preparing to enter the temple and make sacred covenants there.
To start the project, the Primary leaders created a special tree on which each class placed a colorful leaf on Sundays when they put their pennies in the Penny by Penny jar. Children brought pennies they earned by doing things like extra chores and recycling cans. Soon the pennies were pouring in, and the special tree branches were filled with colorful leaves. Even children who visited Nauvoo during the busy tourist season put pennies into the jar.
In November 2001, the temple was almost finished, and it was time to prepare the grounds so that they would be beautiful for the open house in the spring. On a cold Saturday morning, the Primary children and their parents gathered in front of the temple to plant their Penny by Penny tree.
First, they sang “I Love to See the Temple.”† The bishop gave a talk, then the children gave their pennies to Brother Ron Prince, the temple project administrator. The tree was placed in the hole prepared for it, a canister containing the written and drawn testimonies of the children was placed among the tree’s roots, then the children took turns shoveling dirt to fill in around the tree. They were very happy to have helped make the Savior’s house in Nauvoo more beautiful, and they look forward to the day when each of them may enter it.

When Ole Ravn-Petersen was 16, he obtained his father’s permission to be baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The baptism took place in a neoclassical-style building in a quiet residential area of Copenhagen, a meetinghouse that had been dedicated in 1931 by Elder John A. Widtsoe (1872–1952) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
Later, after serving a mission, young Ole would come back to this same building to baptize his father. For him and for many other Danish members, fond memories of the building became only sweeter when it was renovated and dedicated as the Copenhagen Denmark Temple in May 2004.
Ole Ravn-Petersen now serves as bishop of the Århus Ward, Århus Denmark Stake, on the Jutland Peninsula, three hours away from Copenhagen by train. He visited his nation’s capital city recently and found himself thinking that the pace of life there was a bit hectic. And then he thought of the temple: “We have a place here in Copenhagen where we can get closer to our Heavenly Father.”

Another time, Elder Hales was at a stake conference. He was not feeling well. He planned to go home right after the meeting. But after the closing prayer, Elder Hales felt like he should stay and shake hands with everyone. When one young man came to shake his hand, Elder Hales felt like he should give him a special message. Later the stake president told Elder Hales that the young man was going through a hard time. Getting to talk to Elder Hales was a special experience for him. Elder Hales knew that the Holy Ghost had told him to stay and to talk to the young man.

As you approach old age, you will face new challenges to self-mastery. Symptoms of the deteriorating body can be painful, even disabling. Deep aches of sadness are caused by the departing of loved ones. For some, these deepening trials come early in life. But when yours are thrust upon you, remember a concept expressed by my father some time after my mother had passed away. Your grandparents had been married for sixty-four years. When someone asked how he was doing, my father simply stated, “I’m lonely, but I’m not lonesome.” Do you know what he meant? Though he was now without his sweetheart, he was so busy assisting family and friends, he had replaced sorrow with service and had displaced self-pity with selfless love. He had found joy in following the timeless example of the Master.

As a boy and a young man, I prepared to serve a full-time proselytizing mission for the Church. Like Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles counseled us, I wanted to be a missionary, not just to go on a mission. But because of my medical challenges, the Missionary Department informed me that it was not in my best interest to face the stress of a full-time mission. Although it would have been easy to become bitter, I had prepared to serve my Savior, and I was prepared to accept His will for me.
What happened to me is called being honorably excused. That means that Church leaders saw my worthiness and my desire to serve but encouraged me to serve in other ways. Like many others who cannot serve a full-time mission, I felt prompted to do more than just “get on with my life.” I wanted to serve, so I did—as a local Church-service missionary. With help from my bishop and stake president, I found a way to serve the Lord while living at home.
There was a need at the Church’s Audiovisual Department, and since I live near the Church Office Building in Salt Lake City, I could help. My stake president extended a call, set me apart, and developed special rules for me during my year of service. Though the rules seemed strict to me, I learned that I was blessed when I followed them. While other service missionaries with different stake presidents may have different rules, these were the ones I followed:
Stick to a daily schedule: arise at 6:30 a.m.; study the scriptures and Preach My Gospel for two hours each day; exercise for 30 minutes each day; go to bed at 10:30 p.m.
Follow the Church’s dress code.
Listen to classical or Church music only.
Limit computer use to e-mail; limited television viewing; no video games.
Participate only in group activities—no dating.
Have monthly interviews with my bishop.
Sometimes when I was down in a crawl space under a building in 100-degree heat (38ºC) winding up cable all day, I found myself wondering what it had to do with bringing to pass the immortality and eternal life of man (see Moses 1:39). Was I really part of the team sharing the gospel around the world? I knew that Mosiah 2:17 says that when we are in the service of our fellow beings we are in the service of God, but it took me a while to believe that was true.
I learned that just like a proselytizing mission, a service mission isn’t about you. It is about learning to do what the Lord needs done. During my service, I helped set up and take down lights, run sound for meetings, and transport equipment. It was hard, dirty work, and I will never take general conference for granted. In fact, now when I watch any broadcast, my whole body aches because I know the intense work involved.
During my Church-service mission, I learned the importance of punctuality, responsibility, doing the job right, and giving my best effort. While my parents had tried to teach me these things, I didn’t understand until I saw how wasting time and effort can directly affect the work of others. Before my mission, it was easy to focus on just having fun. But once you are on your mission, you realize it will not be fun to be the companion who doesn’t know how to work. Part of preparing to serve is learning how to work.
I also learned to appreciate those who work behind the scenes. I saw how hard Church leaders work without drawing attention to themselves or expecting special treatment. I saw others serving who had greater challenges than I did, teaching me that everyone can serve in some way.
I realized that I have been blessed with strengths and abilities and that through hard work I could do more than I had been doing. I learned that as I respect other people, I like myself better. It’s easy to get in the habit of looking down on people in order to try to feel better about ourselves. But respect works both ways, and those who represent Jesus Christ must be respectful.
The most important lesson I learned, however, was that the Lord will help you do difficult things. It was hard to stay home, hard to do menial chores, hard not to be the center of attention, hard to obey mission rules, and hard to hear people tell me I wasn’t on a “real” mission. But the Lord helped me. I know He will help you do the things you need to do to be happy, to feel good about yourself, to grow, and to be a better person. Get down on your knees, bow your head, and be honest with yourself as you pray. Then get ready to serve wherever and whenever you are called.

A story is told of a woman who was upset that her son was eating too much candy. No matter how much she told him to stop, he continued to satisfy his sweet tooth. Totally frustrated, she decided to take her son to see a wise man whom he respected.
She approached him and said, “Sir, my son eats too much candy. Would you please tell him to stop eating it?”
He listened carefully then said to her son, “Go home and come back in two weeks.”
She took her son and went home, perplexed why he had not asked the boy to stop eating so much candy.
Two weeks later they returned. The wise man looked directly at the boy and said, “Boy, you should stop eating so much candy. It is not good for your health.”
The boy nodded and promised he would.
The boy’s mother asked, “Why didn’t you tell him that two weeks ago?”
The wise man smiled. “Two weeks ago I was still eating too much candy myself.”

Sometimes when decisions are to be made, they aren’t necessarily those involving a temptation to do evil but are decisions that will affect our lives. Now and again word comes back to me about my being offered a chance to play baseball for the major leagues when I was a young man. I was offered an opportunity to try out for the big leagues. But I turned it down. Recently I was asked if there was any hesitation in my decision. There wasn’t. I didn’t take it to my folks or even consider it at all. I knew ahead of time what playing for the major leagues involved, and it wasn’t the life I wanted. Shortly after this, I was called to serve a mission.

Recently, three fellow priesthood holders and I were in the home of a mother who was the head of the household and caring for at least four children. After a brief visit, one of my colleagues asked this matriarch to share her favourite hymn. Without hesitation she responded with “Come, Ye Children of the Lord”. They had not attended church for years, and we asked if we could sing that hymn for the family. Her face lit up as we sang, and the room reverberated with the beautiful words of the hymn. There were smiles on every face as the Spirit of the Lord filled the room. It was easy for us to invite this wonderful family back to church and share with them how our Savior wants them to return.

Melusi and the two families we visited are once again actively participating in church. Elder Mervyn B. Arnold of the Seventy said, “As we go to the rescue, God gives us power, encouragement, and blessings.”1 I have learned that we will receive help and inspiration when we are on the Lord’s errand. We surely do not go alone when we go to rescue His children. He has indeed graven us upon the palms of His hands and will therefore never forget any of His children.

A true story from the USA.
“Let’s go!” shouted Lauren as she passed the driveway.
Marcie put on her helmet. “I’m coming!”
Marcie pedaled her bike down the sidewalk toward her friends. She loved to play all kinds of games with Lauren and Cassidy. But most of all, she loved riding her bike with them.
As the girls biked down the sidewalk, the neighbor’s dog, Rocket, started following them.
“Oh no,” Cassidy said. “We need to take him back home!”
But the dog didn’t want to go home. They called for him to stop, but Rocket just kept going. No matter what they did, he ran around and wagged his tail. He was having fun!
As the girls followed Rocket, Marcie realized that the houses looked less and less familiar. She was getting farther and farther from her street. Marcie didn’t know anyone who lived in these houses!
Where are we going? Marcie thought. Will I be able to find my way back?
Marcie tried not to worry and kept biking. But the feeling came back. Something was telling her that she should go home.
Marcie stopped her bike on the sidewalk. She said in a loud voice, “Maybe we should go back now!”
“We need to get Rocket home!” said Cassidy. She and Lauren kept biking after the dog.
Marcie still felt strange. Why was she feeling so worried? Did her friends feel it too?
Maybe this feeling is just for me, Marcie thought. Was it from the Holy Ghost? She had been baptized and confirmed a few months ago, and Mom and Dad had taught her about listening to the Holy Ghost. They said He would speak to her with feelings in her heart or thoughts in her mind. She knew He would guide her if she listened.
She felt the feeling again. This time it was stronger. Don’t follow that dog.s
“I’m going back,” Marcie called to her friends.
“OK!” Lauren said.
Marcie turned around and rode back the way she came. When she got home, she left her bike on the lawn and went inside. Mom was busy in the kitchen.
“Hi, Mom,” Marcie said. “I came home. I felt worried inside.”
Mom stopped. “What happened?”
“I felt a warning feeling while I was riding my bike with my friends. So I came home,” Marcie said. “I think it was the Holy Ghost.”
Mom gave her a hug. “I’m glad you listened to that feeling.”
Marcie felt good inside. “Me too.”

Jamie was looking forward to the garage sale. She helped her mother sweep the driveway and set up the long folding tables. Then she printed a large GARAGE SALE sign to display at the end of their street.
“Do you think we’ll have lots of people?” Jamie asked.
“I hope so,” Mother answered. “The newspaper ad should help.”
A broken toaster, some mismatched dishes, and outgrown clothing lined the tables. Jamie was fascinated by the people who came to browse through the collection of old items.
“Why would anyone pay fifty cents for an old blue bottle?” Jamie asked after an elderly lady had left with her purchase.
“Why, she’ll put some pretty silk flowers in it and think it’s the world’s greatest treasure!” Jamie’s mother explained. “People like to have unusual things without having to pay a lot for them.”
“Do you think someone will want to buy my old high chair and crib?” Jamie asked.
“Yes, I’m sure someone will,” replied Mother. “They’re almost like new.”
“I don’t like to think of my things being in someone else’s house,” Jamie said with a frown.
“Well, we certainly can’t use them anymore!” Her mother laughed. “You’re a big girl now. I’ll bet if you looked through your room, you’d find some things to get rid of too.”
Jamie went to her room to look for something she could sell. Her bookshelf was lined with books about giants and kings and clowns. This one used to be my favorite, she thought as she looked through the pages of How to Tell Time. I can’t sell it! she decided.
Inside her desk she found a set of plastic letters and numbers that she’d used in first grade. One of the Cs was missing, and the 8 was bent. I might need these to play school the next time Andrea comes over, Jamie thought. Finally, after thinking about everything in her room, Jamie decided to sell her blocks. They had been stored in the farthest corner of her closet for a very long time.
Back outside, Jamie told her mother, “I’m going to sell my blocks for two dollars.”
“Two dollars is rather high,” Jamie’s mother said as Jamie placed the box of blocks on the table. “You may want to lower the price.”
None of the adults were interested in the two-dollar box of blocks. Jamie began to think she’d keep them after all. Then an old blue car pulled up in front of the house. A young woman, followed by three small children, walked up the driveway.
“Your ad said you had a high chair and crib for sale,” the woman said.
“Yes, we do,” replied Jamie’s mother. “They’re right over here on the lawn. As you can see, they’re in very good condition.”
“They are nice,” the woman said. “The ones we have at home are worn-out.”
“Yes, I can imagine,” Jamie’s mother said, smiling at the three active children.
Jamie noticed that the dress the little girl was wearing was much too small for her. One of the little boy’s shoes had a hole in the toe, and his shirt was too big. The baby wasn’t wearing shoes, and Jamie thought his feet must be cold.
“My name’s Anne,” the little girl told Jamie. “I’m going to be in first grade this year!”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Jamie said. “How old are your brothers?”
“Marty’s four, and Alex is almost two,” Anne told her. “We’re going to have a new baby pretty soon!”
Marty spied the box of colorful blocks sitting at the edge of the table. “They’re pretty!” he said. He picked up a purple block and turned it around and around, looking at all its sides. “Bet I could build a real high tower with all of these!” he boasted.
“How much are the blocks?” Anne asked.
“Two dollars,” Jamie said. “They’re really good blocks. I haven’t used them very much.”
“Oh.” Anne sighed. “We won’t be able to buy them, Marty.”
“I have some money!” Marty declared. “Eighteen cents from my piggy bank!”
“I know,” Anne whispered to him, “and I have thirty-five cents. But even together it won’t be enough.”
“Maybe we can ask Mother for the rest,” Marty suggested.
“No,” Anne said. “She only has enough for the baby furniture.”
Jamie watched Marty’s freckled face sag into a sad frown. She watched his little fingers place the purple block back into the box. Then she thought about how useless the blocks had been sitting in her closet.
“Two dollars is probably too much for them,” Jamie admitted. “They do have some scratches. I think eighteen cents is a fair price!”
“You do?” Marty grinned. “That’s great!”
Marty counted out his dime and eight pennies. Jamie put the coins into the money box.
“Thank you,” Marty said, clutching his new treasure.
“I have some other things I don’t need anymore,” Jamie said. “If you’ll wait a minute, I’ll bring them out!”
“I don’t think we have enough money to buy any more,” Anne said.
“Wait until you see if there’s anything you like before you decide,” Jamie said as she hurried inside.
Jamie got How to Tell Time from the shelf. One of the clock hands on the cover was slightly bent, but that wouldn’t matter. It could still help a six-year-old learn to tell time. She gathered all the letters and numbers from her desk, put them into a shoe box, and then hurried outside.
“I’m too old for these things now,” Jamie said with a smile as Anne looked at the toys. “And they’re only thirty-five cents.”
“But aren’t these worth more than that?” Anne asked.
“No, thirty-five cents is just right,” Jamie replied. “You’ll have a lot of fun playing school with them.”
“I can’t wait to tell time!” Anne cried. “Thank you!”
As the old blue car pulled away from the curb, Jamie could see three excited faces looking back at her. Jamie waved. The coins she clutched in her other hand were forgotten. Inside, Jamie had a zillion dollars’ worth of happiness.

by Mark Reed
After much study and two days practice on a small river, our teachers quorum was ready for the big event of our summer—a canoe trip down the Waitara River! Our plans were to cover about 35 miles with at least 50 rapids of varying length and turbulence during the two-day trip.
When the day came for departure, the four of us met at our adviser’s home with life jackets, crash helmets, sneakers, and small waterproof packs that contained our food, utensils, and tents. We launched about 10:00 A.M. and spent the next two hours in hard, solid paddling. After a lunch break, however, we began meeting the rapids. At first this was a little scary, but we soon found that we could maneuver the canoes quite easily in and out among the big rocks, away from huge fallen trees and into the best channels of the fast-flowing, mud-colored river. The beautiful and ever-changing landscape added to the thrill of the trip. One minute we were dwarfed in a magnificent canyon with huge towering and overhanging cliffs and waterfalls and in the next instant we had shot out into the serenity of rolling, bush-clad country.
Around 5:00 P.M. it began to rain, so we decided to stop for the evening and make camp. We soon had a roaring fire going that dried our wet clothing and provided heat to cook a scrumptious meal. By then the day’s paddling had taken its toll, so after group prayer, we dragged ourselves off to our sleeping bags.
The next day’s journey was exciting, colorful, and unforgettable—but ended too soon. As we progressed down the widening, winding course of the river and saw farmland ahead, we knew that the tough job of guiding these little crafts along the river with its pleasures, dangers, thrills, and excitement would soon be over. And it was. But our shared memories, strengthened friendships, and increased testimonies had made the trip something we would always remember. (We are members of the New Plymouth Branch, New Plymouth District in the New Zealand Wellington Mission.)

The stake president, Sonny Purcell, was driving his car when he saw the enormous wave coming far out at sea. He honked his horn and stopped children on the road walking to school and warned them to run for higher ground and safety as fast as they could go. The children followed his instruction. He frantically drove, reached his four-year-old daughter, put her in the car, and then tried to get to his mother. Before he could reach his mother, the wall of water picked up his car and swept it over 100 yards (91 m), where it lodged in a tree. He scrambled to secure his daughter on top of the car and then swam to rescue his mother, who was clinging to a branch of another tree near their house. With great effort he swam with her to the car and safety. Many were not as fortunate. They did not have time to get to higher ground and safety. Many lost their lives, particularly the young and the elderly.

I had only lived in Tokyo, Japan, a little while. It takes an hour for me to get home from school on the bus. One day a friend said that if we got off at the first bus stop, he knew the way to my house and would guide me home. I believed him. So I got off the bus at the first stop, thinking that he would get off, too. But he tricked me. He didn’t get off, and I was alone.
I tried to remember the way to my house. I started to walk, but I came to a fork in the road, and I didn’t know which way to go. I felt very bad and scared. I said a prayer. I told Heavenly Father that I had made a mistake, and I asked Him to help me get home. I felt better, and He helped me choose the right way to go. I got home safely and was grateful that He helped me. I learned that He really listens to our prayers and helps us solve problems.
Ian Robert Evans, age 7Tokyo, Japan