Gospel Story Finder

Illustrations by Mark Jarman
Amelia walked through the front door after school, a worried look on her face. She found her mom in the kitchen making an after-school snack.
“Mom, Chloe and I are really upset.” Chloe was Amelia’s good friend and lived just next door.
“What’s wrong?” Mom asked.
“It’s Ryan,” Amelia sighed. “The kids on the bus are bullying him again.”
Mom put her arm around Amelia.
“Mom, we are so tired of seeing how sad Ryan looks when kids say mean things to him.”
Amelia remembered that when she was baptized, one of the things she had promised Heavenly Father was that she would bear others’ burdens. She and Chloe had always been kind to Ryan. They talked to him on the bus and even invited him to a group activity. But today Amelia knew she wanted to do something more—something special to make Ryan’s burden lighter.
“Mom, we want to do something to make Ryan feel better.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Well, Chloe and I thought we’d make his favorite treat and leave it on his doorstep.”
“That’s a good idea, Amelia. Why don’t I call Ryan’s mom and ask her what his favorite treat is.”
“OK, Mom, but don’t let Ryan know. We want to surprise him.”
Mom nodded and picked up the phone to call Ryan’s mom. Mom explained the girls’ idea and found out that Ryan loved lollipops. She also found out when Ryan would be home that afternoon so the girls could drop off the treat.
Amelia called Chloe and invited her over to make lollipops for Ryan. The girls laughed excitedly as they made the lollipops, imagining Ryan’s face when he opened the door. Then they got out a piece of paper and wrote a note telling Ryan all the things they liked about him. They signed it, “The Bully Busters.”
The girls ran up the street to Ryan’s house with their bunches of lollipops. They carefully placed the treat and note on the porch and rang the doorbell. Then they raced behind some bushes to watch. Ryan opened the door and looked around in surprise to see who had left the treat.
Amelia and Chloe waited until Ryan closed the door. Then they burst into giggles. They skipped home, happy to have done something to cheer Ryan up.
Later that evening Ryan’s mom called Amelia’s mom. She said that Ryan had been praying for others to be kind to him. When he saw the treat and note from the Bully Busters, he told his mom, “I knew God would answer my prayers!”
The next day on the bus, Ryan had a big smile on his face. Almost as big as the smiles on the faces of the Bully Busters.

How you spend your time while you wait for the breaks is as important as your other preparation. Don’t waste it just waiting. Do something that can add new luster to the next round of recommending letters. I think of Sally, who took two part-time jobs, one to pay bills with and the other to give relevant experience in computer analysis, while waiting for a job with an important research institute. And I think of Stan, who enrolled in night courses in accounting to qualify for work that put him through law school. And Jim, who taught retarded children how to swim as partial preparation for a career in recreation or counseling. And Arlene, a creative Sunday School leader who let nothing—not even her wedding—interfere with that responsibility.

There’s an 89-year-old lady in my ward. She’s like the granny of the ward, you could say. So everybody calls her Granny.
One day she told me that the monkeys were coming into her garden and eating all her good fruit because her net had fallen down. In our area of South Africa there are monkeys everywhere, and they make a really big impact on the community.
I said, “Oh, Granny, I would love to come and help you. I’m free this Saturday. I have nothing to do anyway, so I’ll come over and help you build a net.”
Granny and Neo
When I arrived on Saturday, she was sitting patiently on her chair waiting for me. We went out to the garden, and I helped her build the net. I don’t know how I did it, because they’re so complicated, but to this day it still stands up right.
Neo with Granny’s monkey net
For me, it didn’t seem like a big deal to help Granny—I wasn’t doing anything that day. But it was a big deal for her. It taught me that service might be the smallest thing for me, but to the other person, it can be the biggest thing.

As I walked through the door of the Relief Society room, I avoided meeting the gaze of any of the sisters by pretending to look intently at a fly resting on the piano. Glancing up to see how far back I could sit, I spied a seat on the last row, deep in the corner. I sat down and began to thumb through my scriptures, hoping my studious appearance would help me avoid making eye contact. My mother had been my Young Women leader for four years and was still in Young Women as I, now 18, moved on to Relief Society. Suddenly my peers changed from Beehives, Mia Maids, and Laurels to ladies my mother’s age.
As women filed through the door, I recognized all their faces, yet they seemed unfamiliar in this setting. Sister Pratt had taught me in seminary; Sister Caton used to teach my Sunday School class; I often babysat Sister Bent’s children. How could I ever relate to these women who had so much more life experience than I did?
The chatter began to die down as the clock ticked closer to the start of the meeting. Nobody sat by me. The empty seats surrounding me began to feel like a force field that was keeping me from joining the fellowship and camaraderie the others seemed to share.
I began shifting in my chair, wishing I could go back to the Young Women room to girls with whom I shared interests, friends, experiences, and the same decade of birth. Suddenly my “force field” was penetrated by a whisper in front of me.
“Heidi,” Sister Pratt said.
I looked up to see her beckoning me to sit by her.
“Come sit with us.”
I smiled as a rush of relief swept over me. Although I had chosen to sit alone, I was now grateful for the invitation to be included.
“Don’t ever try to sit on the back row again,” she said with a wink, as I sat down beside her.
Each week this wonderful warmth was repeated over and over again as other caring sisters invited me to sit with them until I felt truly loved by these sisters. It wasn’t long before I didn’t need to wait for an invitation.
I began to reach out to these sisters, just as they had reached out to me. I let their love engulf me and penetrate the wall I had built. I no longer felt a sense of dread as I entered the Relief Society room. These women with whom I had felt nothing in common soon became more than just sisters; they became my friends. I felt a part of the fold.

If you are Vaga Babayan, 16, of the Severozamoskvoretsky Branch, you’ll rejoice in the hope of the future.
Two years ago, Vaga and his family, frightened by continual earthquakes in Armenia, moved to Moscow. His father found employment in a bakery run by relatives. Although Vaga studies hard all day, he also helps with the family business.
“One day my father and my sister met the missionaries. Dad invited them to our house. My mother had been searching for the truth and was excited to learn. They kept teaching us. Every time they came over, I felt a warmth in my soul. Three months later, my mother, my sister, and I were baptized.” His father, in Vaga’s words, is “still working” toward baptism.
“There are a lot of great things in Moscow,” Vaga says. “But the greatest of all is that I became acquainted with the Church here. The growth of the Church in Russia is creating a new history in our own lives.”
The power to change. That’s also a great gift, a gift even those with 850 years of experience might appreciate.

For the past 20 months, our family has been blessed with the privilege of having a very special baby.
Little Paxton, our grandson, was born with a very rare chromosomal deletion, a genetic disorder that distinguishes him, literally, as one in hundreds of millions. For our daughter and her husband, an uncharted, life-changing journey began when Paxton was born. This experience has become a crucible for learning special lessons tied to the eternities.
Dear Elder Russell M. Nelson, who just spoke to us, taught:
“For reasons usually unknown, some people are born with physical limitations. Specific parts of the body may be abnormal. Regulatory systems may be out of balance. And all of our bodies are subject to disease and death. Nevertheless, the gift of a physical body is priceless. …
“A perfect body is not required to achieve a divine destiny. In fact, some of the sweetest spirits are housed in frail frames. …
“Eventually the time will come when each ‘spirit and … body shall be reunited again in … perfect form; both limb and joint shall be restored to its proper frame’ (Alma 11:43). Then, thanks to the Atonement of Jesus Christ, we can become perfected in Him.”1
To all of you who have challenges, concerns, disappointments, or heartaches with a dear one, know this: with infinite love and everlasting compassion, God our Heavenly Father loves your afflicted one, and He loves you!
Some might ask when faced with such suffering, how could Almighty God let this happen? And then that seemingly inevitable question, why did this happen to me? Why must we experience disease and events that disable or call precious family members home early or extend their years in pain? Why the heartaches?
At these moments we can turn to the great plan of happiness authored by our Heavenly Father. That plan, when presented in the pre-earth life, prompted us all to shout for joy.2 Put simply, this life is training for eternal exaltation, and that process means tests and trials. It has always been so, and no one is spared.
Trusting in God’s will is central to our mortality. With faith in Him, we draw upon the power of Christ’s Atonement at those times when questions abound and answers are few.
After His Resurrection, when visiting the Americas, our Savior, Jesus Christ, reached out to all with this invitation:
“Have ye any that are sick among you? Bring them hither. Have ye any that are lame, or blind, or halt, or maimed, or leprous, or that are withered, or that are deaf, or that are afflicted in any manner? Bring them hither and I will heal them, for I have compassion upon you; my bowels are filled with mercy. …
“And it came to pass that when he had thus spoken, all the multitude, with one accord, did go forth with their sick and their afflicted, and their lame, and with their blind, and with their dumb, and with all them that were afflicted in any manner; and he did heal them every one as they were brought forth unto him.”3
Great strength can be found in the words “all the multitude … did go forth”—all, brothers and sisters. We all face challenges. And then the phrase: “that were afflicted in any manner.” All of us can identify, can’t we?
Shortly after precious Paxton was born, we knew Heavenly Father would bless us and teach us special lessons. As his father and I put our fingers on his tiny head in the first of many priesthood blessings, the words came into my mind from the ninth chapter of John: “that the works of God should be made manifest in him.”4
God’s works are definitely being made manifest through Paxton.
We are learning patience, faith, and gratitude through the balm of service, endless hours of intense emotions, tears of empathy, and the prayers and expressions of love for dear ones in need, especially Paxton and his parents.
President James E. Faust, my boyhood stake president, said: “I have a great appreciation for those loving parents who stoically bear and overcome their anguish and heartbreak for a child who was born with or who has developed a serious mental or physical infirmity. This anguish often continues every day, without relief, during the lifetime of the parent or the child. Not infrequently, parents are required to give superhuman nurturing care that never ceases, day or night. Many a mother’s arms and heart have ached years on end, giving comfort and relieving the suffering of her special child.”5
As described in Mosiah, we have witnessed the Savior’s pure love given to Paxton’s family, which love is available to all: “And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord.”6
One night early in Paxton’s life, we were in the neonatal intensive care unit of the wonderful Primary Children’s Medical Center in Salt Lake City, Utah, marveling at the dedicated, undivided attention given by the doctors, nurses, and caregivers. I asked my daughter how we would ever pay for this and ventured a guess at what the cost would be. A doctor standing nearby suggested that I was “way low” and that little Paxton’s care would cost substantially more than I had estimated. We learned that much of the expense for care given in this hospital is covered by the generous gifts of time and monetary contributions of others. His words humbled me as I thought of the worth of this tiny little soul to those who were so carefully watching over him.
I was reminded of a familiar missionary scripture that took on new meaning: “Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God.”7
I wept as I pondered the limitless love our Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ, have for each one of us, while learning in a powerful way what the worth of a soul is, both physically and spiritually, to God.
Paxton’s family has learned they are surrounded by countless heavenly and earthly ministering angels. Some have quietly slipped in when needed and silently slipped out. Others have been at the door with food, doing the laundry, picking up the siblings, calling with encouragement, and especially praying for Paxton. Thus another special lesson learned: If you come upon a person who is drowning, would you ask if they need help—or would it be better to just jump in and save them from the deepening waters? The offer, while well meaning and often given, “Let me know if I can help” is really no help at all.
We continue to learn the important value of being aware of and interested in the lives of those around us, learning not only the importance of giving help but also the overwhelming joy that comes from helping others.
Dear President Thomas S. Monson, who is such a magnificent example of lifting the downtrodden, said: “God bless all who endeavor to be their brother’s keeper, who give to ameliorate suffering, who strive with all that is good within them to make a better world. Have you noticed that such individuals have a brighter smile? Their footsteps are more certain. They have an aura about them of contentment and satisfaction … for one cannot participate in helping others without experiencing a rich blessing himself.”8
Though we will face trials, adversities, disabilities, heartaches, and all manner of afflictions, our caring, loving Savior will always be there for us. He has promised:
“I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you. …
“My peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”9
How grateful we are to our Father in Heaven for our champion Paxton. Through him the Lord has manifest His works and continues to teach us these valuable, sacred, and special lessons.
I would like to close with the words from a beloved hymn:
We are all enlisted till the conflict is o’er;
Happy are we! Happy are we!
Soldiers in the army, there’s a bright crown in store;
We shall win and wear it by and by.10
Brothers and sisters, it is my hope and prayer that we will continue to bear nobly our burdens and to reach out to those among us who are suffering and in need of being lifted and encouraged. May we each thank God for His blessings and renew our commitment to our Father in Heaven of humble service to His children. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

“Time to get up, sleepy head!” Mom softly whispered in my ear. “Oh, Mom, do I have to?” I moaned in discomfort as she gently tried to raise me from the dead for seminary one more time.
As I sat in that state of semiawakeness, it occurred to me that Mom was always there to wake me up and that she was as reliable as any alarm clock, only a little more caring. I thought about what the world might be like in a few years and wondered how many things could really be automated. For instance, would a cold metal arm protrude from the ceiling to wake me up some day in the future, or would my bed just dump me on the floor as it folded back up into the wall?
Would I go on a mission with an IBM companion, or would I have a real human being? I knew, of course, that that was just silly and I didn’t worry about it too much, yet they were making a lot of advances in the field of robotics. It’s strange to see what was once just science fiction beginning to come true in this world of high technology.
I got up out of the warmth of my bed, and as my feet hit the cold floor I felt that electrically heated floors wouldn’t be a bad idea for chilly mornings. On my desk a fresh pile of clothes had been thoughtfully laid out by a mother who cares so much about me. Those clothes were always fresh and clean smelling. It was totally amazing how one lovely mother could keep the house so clean and all the clothes washed and still have time to feed the family. I knew that with six children it was a job indeed. Even a myriad of machines would not replace Mom.
Now almost dressed, I rushed down the stairs to the aroma of hot cereal and toast. I saw Mom hurrying to put everything on the table. She really was great. As I sat down to eat this delicious breakfast, so lovingly prepared, I wondered how much longer it would be until we just had pills to eat, eliminating all of the time mothers spend “over a hot stove.” It always amazed me how Mom was able to come up with so many different meals. Her brain must work like a computer, or does a computer work like her brain? I hurried and ate and then took my dishes over to the sink. We didn’t have one of those standard household dishwashers; ours was still “manual.”
I lazily walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth, wondering how much longer until they give teenagers dentures and eliminate the worry about decaying canines. After all, they already had braces, electric toothbrushes, and other dental hardware. Just about then Mom yelled to me that, although she loved me, my seminary teacher might not if I was late for her class. Seminary was one thing that I wished I could get on videotapes. I would then have a lot more time for some of the luxuries in life, namely more sleep.
Mom gave me a parting hug as I zipped out the door to the waiting car full of people. Her enthusiasm and motivation were the only things that kept me awake and going in the mornings. Mom was always there whenever I needed anything. It really dawned on me that no one could ever replace someone who cooks, cleans, and cares like my wonderful mom!

One day Mom had everybody either weeding, picking beans, skinning tomatoes for canning, or chopping vegetables. My sister and I shredded gallons of squash and made 16 loaves of zucchini bread and two zucchini spice cakes. In between our use of the food processor, Josh, my seven-year-old brother, chopped up cucumbers, banana peppers, cabbage, onions, and celery to make medley pickles.
As sliced vegetables poured out the spout, he dumped them into an empty ice cream bucket. It looked blah, so mom headed out to the garden to get red cabbage, yellow tomatoes, carrots, and a handful of green beans.
Meanwhile, six-year-old Danny dashed into the house after emptying the compost bucket. It was his job to deposit scraps like tomato skins and zucchini ends into the compost pile. Noticing a new bucketful, he ran out the door, dumped it, and scooted back. Beaming with pride, he showed Mom how he had dumped some “extra stuff without being asked.” There went the pickles!

He said that a granduncle of his, who was an abbot in the Catholic Church, had asked on his deathbed that Derteano gather the family’s genealogical records. Derteano promised to do so, although he thought that the request was only the irrational talk of a dying man. But he had made a promise, and so, after some time had passed, he began to research the Derteano records. He had to spend considerable time, effort, and money to gather the information. Many times he felt like abandoning the project. On one occasion, when he decided to stop the work, he dreamed his uncle came to him and reminded him of the promise.
He carried on the research for thirty years, locating Derteanos in many parts of the world. Apart from fulfilling a promise to a dying man, Derteano never knew why he was gathering the information. He said he was working blindly, hoping that some day he would understand the reason for it all.
I said that I could provide the answer for him. I told him about the Church and the purposes of the vicarious work for the dead in the temples. I read to him 1 Peter 3:18–20 [1 Pet. 3:18–20], which tells of the Savior preaching the gospel in the spirit world. Then I shared with him parts of Doctrine and Covenants 138 [D&C 138], emphasizing the joy the spirits feel when they receive the gospel and their hope that their descendents would remember them since they cannot progress without us.
Derteano was overjoyed at hearing the reason behind his search. Now, sixty-three years old, he finally felt free of his obligation to his granduncle.
He gave me copies of all the birth and marriage records he had and also the names and addresses of other Derteanos in other parts of the world. My joy and feelings overflowed when together we found a common ancestor in the records, and thus I was able to connect my family tree to his.
Derteano gave me one of his books in which he wrote, “To Luis Roberto Derteano and Rosa Liliana, relatives I had been seeking throughout my life. Without a doubt something brought us together. Kepa De Derteano y Basterra.”

1 Agnes tried not to squirm in the narrow bunk so that she wouldn’t wake her little sister, Sarah, lying beside her. She pulled the blanket up over her ears, but even that didn’t keep out the faint tom-tom beat of drums from across the river. Father insisted that the Indians were friendly to the settlers, but Agnes was still afraid. Finally she fell asleep.
2 Agnes felt like she’d only been asleep a few minutes when little Sarah pounced on her, pulling back the blanket and saying, “Up, Aggie. It’s morning—get up!” Mama was ladling hot oatmeal into their bowls. “Your father and Tom have left already to help the new family build their cabin,” she told the two girls.
3 Agnes’s spirits rose at the mention of new neighbors, even though they would live miles away. Maybe there’ll be a girl my age, she hoped, someone to take the place of Emily, far away in Scotland.
Loud banging startled them, and before anyone could reach the cabin door, young Billy Harris burst in. “Mrs. McTavish, it’s Ma. She’s feeling bad, and the baby’s coming. Please come and help!”
4 Agnes quickly helped her mother gather up some things to take, while Billy jumped around, getting in the way. “Now, Agnes,” Mama said, “you’ll have to be in charge until Papa and Tom get back.” Agnes gulped but only said, “Don’t worry about us, Mama. We’ll be OK.”
5 As Mama and the boy set off, Agnes asked, “Now, what shall we do today?” Sarah pleaded, “Play with your shoes! Dance on the tree stump!” Agnes laughed. “Your favorite game!” Sarah clumped up the steps to the upper room and came down dangling the shoes by their laces. The shoes had become a link with the past for Agnes.
6 As Agnes put on the shoes, many wonderful memories of Scotland came back to her. At the door she began to wonder if they should leave the cabin. What if the Indians are watching? Her stomach tightened with fear. Not wanting to frighten Sarah, however, Agnes let herself be pulled outside.
7 But there was no happy spring in her step as she went through a Scottish dance routine on the tree stump. She finally stopped, panting, and took off the shoes and put them on the stump.
Sarah was coaxing for a turn just as Agnes heard a rustle in the brush. She spun, terrified, and was sure that she caught a glimpse of an Indian!
8 Grabbing Sarah’s hand, Agnes ran back to the cabin, then barricaded the door with the stout plank as her father did each night. Sarah cried, “Aggie, we forgot the shoes! I’ll go get them.” “No!” Agnes cried. Then, gaining control of herself, she softened her voice, adding, “Leave them, Love. We can get them later.”
9 The day dragged by slowly. As Agnes did small jobs in the cabin, she kept scanning the clearing through the window, looking for anything unusual. Then late in the afternoon she suddenly realized that her beautiful shoes were no longer on the stump!
Shouts from outside told Agnes that her father and brother were back, and she saw her mother, too, clambering out of the horse-drawn cart. “This is no gilded coach,” her mother joked, “but it saved me a long walk home. Papa found out that I was at the Harrises’ and picked me up. The Harrises have a fine new baby son. We’ll take some dinner over to them tomorrow.”
10 That evening Agnes told the family about seeing an Indian and bringing Sarah inside and about the shoes vanishing. Mama stroked her daughter’s hair and said, “I can see that you have the makings of a fine, strong pioneer woman!”
11 The next morning Sarah looked out the door and shouted, “Aggie! Mama! Look! There are some slippers on the stump. Come and see!” But what Sarah thought were slippers sitting on the stump were really soft leather moccasins with beaded embroidery down the front.
12 Agnes quickly looked toward the river. On the opposite bank she saw a tall, leather-shirted Indian man moving forward out of the trees. Then another figure came into view, an Indian girl waving in a friendly gesture and holding up Agnes’s shoes by their long laces.
It took a minute before Agnes understood. Then she smiled and held up the beaded moccasins and waved back.

My greatest adventure, however, was the reading of the Holy Bible. From infancy I had enjoyed the simplified and illustrated Bible stories, but the original Bible seemed so endless in length, so difficult to understand, that I avoided it until a challenge came to me from Sister Susa Young Gates. She was the speaker at the MIA meeting of stake conference and she gave a discourse on the value of reading the Bible. In conclusion she asked for raising of hands of all who had read it through. The hands that were raised out of that large congregation were so few and so timid! Some of them tried to explain by saying, “We haven’t read it through, but we have studied many parts of it.”
I was shocked into an unalterable determination to read that great book. As soon as I reached home after the meeting I began with the first verse of Genesis and continued faithfully every day. Most of the reading was done in my attic bedroom that I occupied alone. I stayed up very late and read long hours when I was thought to be asleep,
Approximately a year later I reached the last verses in Revelation:
“He which testifieth these things saith, Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus,
“The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen.”
What a satisfaction it was to me to realize I had read the Bible through from beginning to end! What exultation of spirit! And what joy in the overall picture I had received of its contents!
For more than half of a century now I have continued to be grateful to Sister Gates for the inspiration that encouraged me to read the Holy Bible my first time.
I recommend it to you, whether you are young or old.

As prophet, President David O. McKay traveled the world. He encouraged the Saints to be faithful and made friends with many government leaders.
During a visit to the Netherlands, the queen agreed to meet with President McKay for half an hour. He watched the clock carefully and stood to leave when the 30 minutes were up.
President McKay: Your Highness, thank you for visiting with my wife and me. It has been a pleasure.
Queen: Mr. McKay, sit down! I have enjoyed this 30 minutes more than I have enjoyed any 30 minutes in a long time. I just wish you would extend our visit a little longer.
President McKay agreed. Soon a servant wheeled in a table, and the queen poured three cups of tea.
Queen: Won’t you have a little tea with the queen?
President McKay: Thank you, but Latter-day Saints don’t believe in drinking coffee, tea, or alcohol.
Queen: I am the queen of the Netherlands. Do you mean to tell me that you won’t have a little drink of tea, even with the queen?
President McKay: Would the queen of the Netherlands ask a church leader to do something that he teaches his people not to do?
Queen: You are a great man, President McKay. I wouldn’t ask you to do that.
Throughout his presidency, President David O. McKay set a great example and earned the respect of leaders all over the world.

Sometimes a lower-paying job near home leads to a part-time job during the school year. One student decided against a high-paying out-of-state construction job to stay home and work in a service station. His friend took the construction job, and although at the end of the summer he was financially better off than the station attendant, he couldn’t find a part-time job when he returned home for school. By the end of the year, the station attendant who had earned less per hour during the summer had made more than the construction worker had. He also learned enough about auto mechanics to take good care of his own car.

One young woman had an experience soon after President Hinckley’s fireside when she began to question her friendship with some people.
“As I approached this group of people that I called my friends and that I had spent half my life with, their aura seemed different, confusing, and unappealing. They were taking turns telling bad jokes and the spirit that I encountered there was one I did not want to be a part of. I hesitated to leave my friends and stayed for half a joke and then made up my mind to not be a part of this demeaning situation.”
She went on to explain that although it was difficult leaving her group of friends, it was well worth it.
“As I look back on that minute in time, that thought of walking away was probably the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Now I find it to have been the single most important event in my life. I am now in a different crowd of people.
I think differently, and most importantly I act differently because of my change of friends.”

Brother and Sister Chukwurah have learned to follow the promptings of the Spirit, both in regard to Church callings and in caring for their children. There was a time when Uchenna became very sick and Sister Chukwurah stayed home with him while her mission president husband traveled to Sierra Leone. Medication had been prescribed for nine-year-old Uchenna, but he kept getting sicker. He kept vomiting and losing strength until he finally collapsed. Florence checked his pulse and found it very weak. She was convinced he was dying.

Without a priesthood holder available to give her son a blessing, Sister Chukwurah knelt by her son’s bed and held him while she prayed for help. During the prayer she got the distinct impression to stop giving him one of the medications. This was at 5:45 P.M.; she was scheduled to give him the medication at 6:00 P.M. She rose from her knees feeling a great relief. Knowing clearly what needed to be done, she changed his medication. Immediately Uchenna’s pulse became normal, and the nausea lifted.

“I missed my husband, who would have given him a priesthood blessing,” Sister Chukwurah says. “I had no hope anywhere except from the Lord. So I exercised my faith and called upon the Lord. And the Lord saved him.”

Ellen was a young girl who really gained an understanding of repentance. While at the store, she took an item without paying for it. But when she got home, she felt miserable. She confided in her mother: “I’m so sorry I took it; will you take it back for me?”
Her mother said, “I can’t repent for you, Ellen. You must repent yourself. You will have to take it back and say you are sorry.”
It was hard, but she did it. “This is my first repentance,” Ellen said. “I’m glad I know how to make things right.”

For several months I didn’t attend seminary. It was hard for me to get up early, and I thought it was all right not to go because it didn’t help me much in school.
One day my friend told me that the teacher had taken my name off the attendance roll. I thought about the valuable things I had missed in seminary. So the next day at 5:45 a.m., I made myself get up to go to seminary.
For the next couple of mornings it was hard for me to get up, but I put the effort into making it there. After that, I noticed I felt rested and alert, had a better attention span, and was able to absorb more information at school and actually remember it when it counted.
Seminary has been a good experience for me because it has made my days at school go more smoothly. Seminary has also given me a better understanding of the gospel and the Church, which will help me when I serve a mission.

Eldon learned one of his greatest lessons from an unpleasant experience. He was 14 years old, and his father was serving as bishop. There had been a death in the ward, and his father had gone to prepare for the funeral. He asked Eldon and his brothers to do the chores while he was gone.

“We decided to ride some calves before we did what he had told us to do. We thought we would have plenty of time, but he came home while we were still riding those calves, and he called us over to him. Though he had never whipped me, I thought maybe I was going to receive a whipping at that time. But he pointed his finger at me and said, ‘My boy, I thought I could depend on you.’ That hurt me very much. I can still almost recall the exact feeling I had at that time. I made up my mind that he would never have a reason to say, ‘I thought I could depend on you.’ Right then I made up my mind that the Lord would never have reason to say, ‘I thought I could depend on Eldon Tanner.’ It has helped me greatly in my life. The things I learned while I was a boy have helped me all through my life.”

I realized the importance of teaching principles after I attended a Relief Society lesson at the local branch. The lesson, taken from the manual, was on keeping our homes neat and clean. An illustration in the lesson manual showed an American home that was neatly arranged and obviously well kept. Our instructor was so unfamiliar with Western-style homes that she held the picture upside down when she showed it to the class.

Later that week, I went to Ekaette’s house and found her covered from head to toe with mud. She was beaming. Inspired by the lesson, Ekaette was cleaning her home. She had taken every single item out of the house (there wasn’t much), and she was smearing new clay mud on the walls and floor. She excitedly showed me how she had decorated the front of the house by using a darker mud along the bottom for a nice trim. It looked beautiful. Ekaette had learned the principle, then implemented it in a way that was practical for her.

I recall a simple incident that occurred in our family years ago. My husband and I were away from home, and our oldest son was babysitting the other children. We received a call from a concerned neighbor alerting us that a firetruck was at our house. We raced home and found that our 10-year-old son had been playing in the backyard next to a six-acre field of tall, dry grass. He was trying to see if he could start a fire with sparks.

Obviously, he did! By the time we arrived, the small fire had been extinguished by the fire department, the firemen had lectured our son, and the neighbors were beginning to disperse. Our son was embarrassed, frightened, tearful, and knew he was surely in trouble.

We all went into the house. Our son was so afraid that, even though the situation was serious, all we could do was wrap our arms around this sweet boy and reassure him of our love and our relief that he wasn’t hurt.