Gospel Story Finder

Many rich experiences still awaited us in italy, where we were to spend three days waiting for our charter flight to the States.
With a day in Rome we wanted to devour all of the great works of art that we could possibly see. We began at Vatican City. So much beauty is in that place, it was impossible to digest it all. As we left the Sistine Chapel, our guide asked us if we had noticed the floor. Only a few had done so. The awesome beauty of Michelangelo’s artwork on the ceiling was so tremendous that many of us never looked down.
Then a once in a lifetime experience. We walked into St. Peter’s Basilica and sang. It is the first time any BYU choir has done so.
Tour groups walking through stopped; even their guides, who are usually caught up in the tape recorder-style recitation of facts and history, stopped and listened. In this cathedral, the very center of the Catholic church, the message of the restored gospel was sung to many people. What an experience to sing in such a building!
Our final concert was held in the beautiful city of Florence at the Duomo, the third largest cathedral in the world. But this cathedral is different. The beauty is on the outside, where the entire surface is tiled with different colored marble. Inside it is very plain, and we were told it was done this way so that people would not be distracted when they were worshipping.
One priest was so moved by the concert we gave there that he asked us to sing for the mass which followed. It was thrilling to sing to our brothers and sisters as they worshipped the Lord in their manner.
We poured all of our love we had learned in Israel into the songs we sang. Singing from behind the congregation, we created a spirit not felt by these people before. The mass ended, and we sang, “Come, Come, Ye Saints!” Never before have I heard it sung with more power and conviction. The spirit created was indescribable.
One small, frail woman worked her way, cane in hand, through the crowd and in broken English synthesized the feelings of our entire tour: “You sing. You love.”

At the beginning of 2019, when the new Come, Follow Me was just beginning, we could feel the excitement of the students. Even though we were studying from the Doctrine and Covenants in seminary, they started sharing things they had learned from studying the New Testament with their families. They were so excited about it. When we studied Doctrine and Covenants 89 (the Word of Wisdom) in seminary, it was around the same time we were studying John 2 (when Jesus Christ turns water into wine) in Come, Follow Me. Finding common principles and ideas between the two readings allowed the students to share with their peers what they had learned at home. They were much more engaged, and the discussion was much more invigorating because the students had things to talk about. They were able to apply the things they had learned at home to what we were learning at seminary.

In January 2019, Brother Santosh came to Kolkata from Odisha to receive the ordinance of baptism. He came to know about the gospel in a very challenging time of his life. During that time, the scriptures comforted him and helped him to overcome the hardships he faced. The story of Alma’s faith has taught us that when we sow love, we receive love. And just like Alma, Brother Santosh had felt the same love of the Savior. His quest to know about the only true Church, led him to contact the Elders through internet. As he came to know more about the gospel, he felt the Spirit testify to him about the truthfulness of the gospel and the Church. He feels extremely happy about his decision and truly blessed to be a part of the Church.

Each year we have a family vacation at Bear Lake. It is an exciting week of getting acquainted with grandchildren. For the past few years I have listened to their opportunities and challenges. They have let me know of the increased pressures of being in the world but not of the world. Movies, television, Internet, designer clothes, extreme fashions, Sabbath-breaking activities, et cetera, escalate the magnitude of their temptations. Moreover, peer pressures force difficult decisions about whether to follow the crowd or stand up for the principles taught by converted and committed parents and the Church.
This year I decided to be a little more aggressive in counseling my grandchildren. I wanted to provide them with a framework to resist temptations and thrive in today’s complex world. Our vacation at the lake extends for four days, so I decided to purchase a loose-leaf binder for each of them and include a topic for discussion for each day. Each insert included some scripture references and quotes that were intended to start fruitful discussions between the generations.
On the first day, there was not much interest in discussions, but the momentum seemed to increase each day. The experiment had enough success that I would like to play grandfather to each of you young people listening today to see if we can stimulate some thoughtful discussions in your homes with your parents.

I’ve moved a lot in my life. A few years ago, we moved to Dubai for a short time. When I unpacked my suitcase, the last thing at the bottom was my scriptures. I thought that I should read them. I did, which is kind of unusual because I’m not always great at following promptings. But I started from the very beginning, and I think I read five or six chapters.

Later, I was asked to give a talk in church. I was impressed to talk about the importance of scripture study. I wrote my talk and thought, “Wow, I should really read the scriptures more.” It also kind of became a competition between me and my dad. He was in Alma, and I wanted to catch up to him. I started reading my scriptures every day—sometimes 10 or 15 chapters!

I started to notice a lot more spiritual experiences. When you’re reading that much, it makes room for you to have personal revelation. I was really creating time for the Lord.

I started keeping a spiritual journal. In one entry, I wrote, “I was reading 3 Nephi about how Jesus Christ came down to the people and all the wonderful things He did. I felt so close to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ today.”

I was really surprised how many experiences I had, especially when I was looking for them. I was like, “Wow, God is really talking to me a lot.”

Studying the scriptures really helped me, especially with all the mental stress of moving so much. The scriptures are Christ’s words. He speaks to us through them. Through His words, I am able to draw closer to Him.

I was at Manti, Utah, some years ago. As we came out of the Saturday night leadership meeting, there was a heavy snowstorm. As we drove to the home of the stake president, he stopped his car and turned back to the temple hill. There the lighted temple was standing majestically. We sat there in silence for a few moments, inspired by the sight of that beautiful, sacred place. He said, “You know, Brother Lee, that temple is never more beautiful than in times of a dense fog or in times of a heavy, severe storm.”

Just so, never is the gospel of Jesus Christ more beautiful than in times of intense need, or in times of a severe storm within us as individuals, or in times of confusion and turmoil.

One Sunday morning, we were sitting on the veranda when my oldest daughter, who was three years old, asked me a question that caught me by surprise. She saw some of her friends going to church in their nice clothes. “How come we don’t go to church?” she asked. At that time we weren’t attending church because my wife and I belonged to different churches and neither wanted to join the other’s church.
My daughter’s question really made me think. I was troubled because before I was married, I always went to church. That night I was inspired to kneel and seek divine guidance. I recall even saying that I would offer my life to serve the Lord.
A few days later, two young men knocked at our door and introduced themselves as messengers of the Lord. When I saw their calling cards, I remembered some things I knew about the Church. When I was young, I used to read western novels that talked about Mormon pioneers and settlements. I had also read about some members of the Church in American magazines. When we started talking about the doctrines of the Church, I was surprised to find that I already believed most of its teachings. I had read the Bible and knew that God the Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost were three separate beings, and I felt that there must be prophets and revelation.
The elders continued to teach me for several months, but somehow I could not gain a testimony of Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon. I had read the passages in the Book of Mormon that the missionaries marked for me, but I had trouble accepting their challenge to read the whole book.
I enjoyed having them in our home, but I had the feeling that they were getting discouraged with me. One day when they challenged me to read and pray, I felt that it would be the last challenge. I didn’t want to lose their visits, so I decided to read. This time before starting, I prayed with a real desire to know if the book was true. A miracle happened: instead of getting bored as usual, I was so interested that I couldn’t stop reading.
That night, after reading many chapters, I knew that this was the word of God. With a strong testimony of the Book of Mormon, it was then very easy for me to accept Joseph Smith as a prophet. When the missionaries returned and asked me if I wanted to be baptized, I said yes. I was baptized in November 1964. I felt the Spirit of the Lord so strongly during my baptism that I really felt reborn. Besides the covenant of baptism, I made a private covenant that I would serve the Lord all my life.
I am very grateful to be a member of the Church. I hope that you children of the Church will learn through prayer and study that the gospel and the Book of Mormon are true. My wife and I have eight children whom we have raised in the gospel. I am grateful that my oldest daughter, when she was a small child, asked me that important question. Because of her, I began to seek the truth and to serve the Lord and others. You can help your parents and families remember the Lord, as my daughter helped me.

Almost a year into her mission, Sister Berry was transferred to Macau island, which had eight missionaries serving there at a time.
The protests had calmed down, and the work continued and progressed as new missionaries were finally arriving. However, after one transfer, the mission received direction from President Phillips, who felt it was best to remain inside until further notice and leave only for food shopping and exercise, and work within their apartments, due to a virus outbreak.
After staying in for around ten days, Macau’s missionaries received a phone call from President Phillips to pack up like it was transfer day and head back to Hong Kong.
President and Sister Phillips warmly greeted all eight of the missionaries and then helped move them into a temporary apartment for the night.
The following morning, all the missionaries within the China Hong Kong Mission received a text message from President and Sister Phillips with the code word ‘Jell-O-nation’ and expressing their love. He said that all the missionaries would sadly need to evacuate Hong Kong that night.
The missionaries were confused at first, as they thought the evacuation plan put in place seven months earlier was to help assist in case of social unrest. It became clear that the plan was preparing the mission for a more significant storm ahead, the COVID-19 outbreak.
The entire mission headed to the mission office that night and said goodbyes to their cherished mission president and companions. Each group headed off to the airport in coaches, ready to fly to their home countries to continue their missionary service.
Due to the ‘Jell-O-nation’ plan, over 100 missionaries evacuated Hong Kong and returned home safely within 24 hours.

On May 20 of last year a massive tornado pummeled the suburbs of Oklahoma City, in the heartland of America, carving a trail more than a mile (1.6 km) wide and 17 miles (27 km) long. This storm, an onslaught of devastating tornadoes, altered the landscape and the lives of the people in its path.
Just a week after the massive storm struck, I was assigned to visit the area where homes and belongings were strewn across the flattened, ravaged neighborhoods.
Before I left, I spoke with our beloved prophet, President Thomas S. Monson, who relishes such errands for the Lord. With respect borne not only of his office but also of his goodness, I asked, “What do you want me to do? What do you want me to say?”
He tenderly took my hand, as he would have done with each one of the victims and each of those helping with the devastation had he been there, and said:
“First, tell them I love them.
“Second, tell them I am praying for them.
“Third, please thank all those who are helping.”
I had learned from our dear prophet what the storm-tossed people needed—love, prayers, and appreciation for helping hands.

Not far from the vast expanse of the Ohio River lies a small town on the outskirts of Louisville, Kentucky, called Anchorage. Once a farming community where a riverboat captain established his last portage, it has become home to families of many diverse faiths.
It was there in church, at home, and while exploring the marvelous world beneath the woods of sycamore, oak, maple, chestnut, and willow trees that I learned one of the fundamentals of Christianity: that Jesus came as the master teacher, instructing us in the ways of goodness and integrity.
My parents were good folks, faithful in their church. They taught me how to be a good person and that there are certain things that are right, such as being kind to others, and certain things that are wrong, such as stealing. On the other hand, they also taught that what one person believes to be true is just as valid as what someone else believes to be true, even if those beliefs differ in fundamental ways. In this philosophy, as I understand it, there are no eternal principles true for everyone, just personal viewpoints that intelligent people have the right and obligation to determine are true for themselves.
Because of those underlying tenets of moral relativism, I had a difficult time believing what the Mormon missionaries taught me about the need for the Atonement, priesthood authority, and prophets. Indeed, my journey to conversion took me six long years of constantly challenging and questioning who I was, what I believed, and whether there could, in fact, be a God who had established eternal principles of truth and error, sin and consequence.
Remarkably, I did receive a spiritual confirmation, but it did not come until I was humble enough to accept it. First came a witness of baptism, then of the Book of Mormon, then of Joseph Smith as a true prophet. Additional witnesses followed, line upon line, regarding today’s prophets and apostles.
Eventually, there came a point in my life when I didn’t just believe the gospel was true—I knew it. The culmination of many little witnesses created a foundation upon which my faith was sure, a bulwark against which challenges to testimony break.

For example, if you receive a spiritual impression to honor the Sabbath day, especially when it seems difficult, God will send His Spirit to help.

That help came to my father years ago when his work took him to Australia. He was alone on a Sunday, and he wanted to take the sacrament. He could find no information about Latter-day Saint meetings. So he started walking. He prayed at each intersection to know which way to turn. After walking and making turns for an hour, he stopped to pray again. He felt an impression to turn down a particular street. Soon he began to hear singing coming from the ground floor of an apartment building close by. He looked in at the window and saw a few people seated near a table covered with a white cloth and sacrament trays.

Now, that may not seem like much to you, but it was something wonderful to him. He knew the promise of the sacrament prayer had been fulfilled: “Always remember him and keep his commandments which he has given them; that they may always have his Spirit to be with them” (D&C 20:77).

Travelling to the Temple in West Africa was often a serious challenge. The Saints in Sierra Leone made an excursion to Ghana to attend the temple. Because of an insurrection it was impossible to cross the border through the Ivory Coast so they travelled three days circumnavigating the Ivory Coast through Burkina Faso. As they travelled, they were stopped by robbers and at gunpoint all their money and personal effects of value were stolen. Blessed to still be alive, they decided to proceed anyway to Ghana where they spent the week seeking the blessings of the temple. Nothing was more important to them than the eternal blessings that could be obtained in no other place than the Temple. Why would they risk so much to go there? They wanted and needed those sacred experiences which have eternal worth.

My husband, Cyrus, and I were married in the temple on May 23, 2006. Before we were married, his work in a laboratory required Cyrus to work on Sundays. He had a shifting schedule, but he usually worked from midnight to 8:00 a.m. After work he would go home to change from his uniform to Sunday dress and then go straight to church, which started at 9:00 a.m. He continued this schedule after we were married.
Sometimes I went to church alone because he was delayed at work. We always wished he didn’t have to work on the Sabbath. On the first Sunday of June 2006, we had our first fast as a married couple. We prayed in faith that Cyrus would be blessed with a job that would not require him to work on Sundays.
A few days later at about 10:00 a.m., I wondered where Cyrus was because he usually came home between 8:00 and 9:00 a.m. Suddenly a thought came to me: “He might be promoted.” Cyrus finally arrived around 11:00 a.m. As he entered our home, he said he had good news and bad news.
I told him to tell me the bad news first. He said we would soon leave Iligan, Philippines, and move to Panay, Philippines. I did not like the news at first because we loved the people in our stake. They were kind to us and treated us as their own, knowing that Cyrus and I had no family nearby.
When I asked him why we needed to move to Panay, he said it was because of the good news. His boss had interviewed him for another job located in Panay. I immediately asked him not about his salary but whether the job would require him to work on Sundays. When he answered, “No!” I was very happy. I hugged him and told him that his new job was the answer to our prayers and fasting. Two months later, Cyrus started his work in Panay.
Heavenly Father is mindful of us, and He blesses us when we exercise faith and obey His commandments. I am grateful for the principles of prayer and fasting. My husband’s job is a blessing to us. Now he has time to magnify his calling in our ward, and the only work he does on Sunday is the Lord’s work.

Spencer W. Kimball visited Tonga in 1970 as a general Authority; he was President of the Quorum of the twelve at the time. I was a junior in high school at Liahona. As President Kimball toured the school campus he stopped at the Boys Dormitory. As he went in the main entrance he saw a bulletin board with his picture on it. He was impressed with the art work and he gave a message to the dorm father to relay to the student who created the work.

In 1983, thirteen years later, a couple from Fiji came to Provo. They brought some handicrafts from Fiji as a gift for Pres. Kimball's daughter who was living in Sandy, Utah. This couple needed a driver to take them there, so Sheila and I volunteered to drive them.
As we got there, I noticed a big black car slowly pulled up into the driveway. As the car door opened I instantly recognized the passengers; it was Pres. Kimball and his wife Camilla. We were surprised to find out that his daughter had arranged for them to come for dinner. Pres. Kimball at this time could not talk due his throat cancer.
After dinner, I was given the chance to stand and share something about Tonga, since the Fijian couple had spoken about Fiji and the church there.
Because my voice was not loud enough the daughter asked that I come over and stand next to Pres. Kimball. This made it difficult since I was nervous. I had never stood next to a prophet of God before.
I stood on his side, close enough that he wrapped his right arm around me. That made me more nervous. However, I gathered my thoughts and continued, "President Kimball, I am here today to tell you that I got your message. When you visited Tonga in 1970, 12 years ago, you visited the boys' dorm in Liahona. You left a message with the dorm father for the student who created the art work on the bulletin board at the main entrance. I was that student.

In a couple of weeks I will be graduating with a master's degree in Fine Arts. Your message was conveyed and it has been a guiding light. Your message served as a pedestal for me to stand taller and have a better perspective of God's love."

Relaxed in their shirtsleeves on a warm spring day in 1897, the McKay brothers, David O. and Thomas E., sat at a table in their rented cottage, reading their mail.
For David O., this was a time of triumphant climax in his college career and of great expectations for a new world to conquer. His hopes and spirits were high.
After three years in the university’s normal school, he felt ready to resume his chosen career as a teacher, a career he had interrupted to complete his own schooling. Before coming to the university, he had graduated from the Weber Stake Academy in Ogden, Utah, and had returned to his beloved Huntsville, as principal and teacher in the town’s little school.
A year of teaching whetted his appetite for more training, and he again became a student, enrolling at the university. In those three years of college, he displayed qualities that would help carry him to the pinnacle of leadership in the Church.
He was elected president of his class and played on the university’s football team.
A highly prized employment opportunity had been offered him in Salt Lake County, through the recommendation of the university’s teacher training director.
Most important of all, he had found the most wonderful girl in the world, Emma Ray Riggs, and she was willing to become Mrs. McKay. The future, indeed, seemed full of promise for David O. McKay.
Then he read the letter. In a moment, all his hopes seemed dashed. He was called to serve for two years in the British Mission. Swallowing disappointment, he accepted the call. It proved to be a marvelous time of spiritual growth.
He never regretted his decision. Teaching opportunities and Emma Ray awaited him on his return.

When seminary started my freshman year, I was pumped and ready for it—but that excitement lasted probably about a week and a half. By then I was just tired, and I was going to bed late and waking up so early. Every morning, I just thought, “This is such a bummer.” And even though seminary was held at my kitchen table in my own home, I didn’t want to go. It was becoming such a burden for me.

Eventually I said to myself, “Why am I even going? I don’t need to go!” But then I decided to change my attitude. I started writing down something I’d learned every morning, and I did that for the rest of the year. At the end of the year, I read the things I’d written. Going to seminary and writing down insights every day helped me appreciate seminary and have a stronger testimony of the gospel—especially when I read through all of it and realized how much I’d grown.
Annie P., Texas, USA

But prestige held no particular appeal for Ezra Taft Benson. He always considered his true career to be serving in whatever way the Lord needed him, his highest honor the privilege of bearing the priesthood of God. He always remembered with special fondness an early calling as Scoutmaster in the Whitney Ward, where he led his troop to win a valleywide contest for boys’ choruses. From that early experience as Scoutmaster blossomed his abiding commitment to Scouting. Later he served on the national advisory council and the executive board of Boy Scouts of America, and he received the three highest national awards in Scouting—the Silver Beaver, the Silver Antelope, and the Silver Buffalo—as well as world Scouting’s Bronze Wolf.

Returning to Whitney years after serving as Scoutmaster, he tried to locate all twenty-four of “his” Scouts. He found many serving as ward and stake leaders but could not account for two. In his later travels, he found those boys, neither of whom had married in the temple. He reestablished friendships and subsequently had the privilege of performing temple sealings for them and their families.

Several years ago, I was serving as an institute instructor here in Hawaii. At that time, I was teaching a class about Church history and focused much of my preparation on that topic. This was also a time when the Joseph Smith papers were starting publication and there was a great deal of excitement about all of the new discoveries that were coming to light. During that time, I came across a story about a “seer stone.” The thing that first attracted my attention was the picture at the top of the article. The picture was of a small chocolate brown rock about three by five inches with lighter brown veining through it. It was smooth and rounded and was for all intents and purposes – unremarkable. I then read the article. It identified the rock as one of the items that Joseph had used to translate the Book of Mormon. Per the article, Joseph placed the stone in a hat to exclude exterior light and then placed his face into the hat. He could then make out words that were dictated to the scribe. I stopped reading and I must admit to being more than a little surprised. A river rock dropped into a hat? No stinking way. How could this be? This information did conform in any way with what I knew about the translation. After all, didn’t he use the Urim and Thummim? While I was not entirely clear what that looked like to my mind the Urim and Thummim was some sort of elegant instrument consisting of “two stones in silver bows.” The Book of Mormon itself referred to them as “interpreters” that were kept with the plates. Joseph himself referred to them as “spectacles,” and I had always imagined a highly elegant piece of equipment worthy of the translation of the word of God. The article went on to say that after a time Joseph did not use any aid at all in the translation. My mind raced. I was shocked. I was incredulous. Joseph was running around staring at a rock in a hat instead of looking through the super cool glasses designed specifically for the task? It didn’t fit with anything that I knew about the story and did not make any sense to me at all. I couldn’t believe it—and I didn’t.

The whole thing bugged me. If this were so, why had no one ever revealed this detail? My mind reeled and I began to look for a way to fit this into the box I had constructed in my mind to hold this information. I reasoned that they did not share this detail because it made a difficult story even more difficult. I mean, “magic spectacles” was stretching reason a bit, but “rock in the hat” was a bridge too far. I was also surprised by the general tone of the article. The whole thing was so matter of fact. I became suspicious of the trustworthiness of the story. I felt like a person who had stepped into mental quicksand, and I began reaching out feverishly for something to cling to. I was hoping for an article, a talk, a scripture, anything that could fill the gap between what I believed to be true and the new information that I had uncovered.

Now this whole process did not happen immediately. I still had a life to live, and this question occupied the space between my other commitments. Slowly, however, my thoughts began to become less frantic and more focused. I then came to the crossroads that each person having a crisis of faith must negotiate. This new information was either true or it was not. If it was true, I would need to rebuild my understanding of the events associated with a foundational piece of my testimony. If it was false, I could go back to my old paradigm, except I would have to deal with the idea that the Church had been tricked or simply mistaken.

I have learned that this sort of spinning, over-reaching thought pattern is not unusual during such an episode. However, we need to be careful not to expand the issue. After all, this new knowledge didn’t change everything that I believed, it only affected one thing. A thing that other things leaned on, to be sure, but each question ultimately needs to be dealt with on its own terms. Simply stated, we do not need to destroy the entire tapestry for one offending thread.

As I pondered about this issue, I had a thought that started the ball spinning in a different direction. I began to focus on what I already knew. I have been blessed with a knowledge reinforced by many experiences that Joseph is a prophet, that the Book of Mormon is true and that this is the true Church. The challenge was that I could not stuff the old information into the new box. So, staring squarely at this inconsistency I was forced to decide. I told myself – my former experiences have shown me what is true, and so somehow this information fits into that pattern. And even though I don’t know what that is right now, I am going to move forward with what I do know until I do.

Elder Holland reinforced this concept when he taught:
“When those moments come and issues surface, the resolution of which is not immediately forthcoming, hold fast to what you already know and stand strong until additional knowledge comes.” [4]

I did not think about it at the time, but I had another option. I could have said to myself – this doesn’t make sense to me, so I am going to overlook all of those other spiritual experiences and reject them because this piece does not seem to fit. I could have chosen to doubt all of those other witnesses that this new information seemed to disrupt as a means to bypass my inner conflict. That is a choice that does not make sense to me and I am saddened when others make that choice. The key to focus on if you arrive at this crossroads is to “remember.”

I wish that I could tell you that making the decision to remember brought me immediate peace, but it did not. I was frustrated with what felt like the side door of my testimony being left ajar. I continued to look for answers and to ponder and pray. Then, many days later, I had a thought – what is the point of the rock anyway? What role did it serve? I thought about the various ways that Christ healed people. He had them bathe, he smeared them with clay, they touched the hem of his garment, he laid hands on them, he simply told them to rise. Why all of the differences and drama? Was there a process in play? As these ideas swirled around in my head together, I began to see something. Jesus selected a specific manner to perform each miracle not because it was something that He needed but because it produced in each receiver something that they needed. Jesus created the environment so that each person could focus their faith in a way that allowed them to be healed. The next thought was the one that I did not see coming – why was it any different for Joseph? The Lord selected elements in Joseph’s world to allow him a means to focus his faith so that the Lord could accomplish his work. And if that required fancy eyeglasses, or a rock, or eventually nothing at all, what was the problem? It also started to make sense that as Joseph’s trust and confidence grew the need for the specific item to focus his faith diminished. With that thought the Spirit witnessed to me the truth of that concept, and the opening on the side door of my testimony closed. I was at peace about the idea and while I did not know everything about the story, I knew enough to know that it did fit within the framework of the gospel, and it taught me something new about how the Savior succors his people.

Want to Help Michelle?
Michelle has inspired a lot of people with her story. And they in turn have wanted to help her. You see, sometimes Michelle has medical treatments for her unique health challenges that require her to take a break from indexing for a time.
A few people got together and decided to form an indexing group on FamilySearch so they can help index for Michelle to make up for those times when she’s unable. Anyone can join. If you want to help out, head over to FamilySearch.org and then look up the “Michelle Thornton” indexing group.

Each night before I go to bed I like to hear a story from the Friend. One night we couldn’t find the Friend anywhere. After searching for a while, my dad suggested we say a prayer. We asked Heavenly Father to help us find the Friend. After the prayer we started looking again. During the search my dad had a thought. He felt that we should look behind my bed. We did, and there it was! I am grateful for my dad. He helped me learn that Heavenly Father listens to all His children no matter how big or small their problems are.Kaylee J., age 4, with help from her mom, Utah