Gospel Story Finder

A few years ago, our family started going through some trying times. Our daughter, who was two at the time, had received a cancer diagnosis that required ongoing rigorous treatments. We also had a baby who had her own medical complications requiring frequent monitoring and visits to specialists. Life was not going quite as we had planned!
Based on our circumstances, we needed to make a few changes—and do so quickly! Upon the cancer diagnosis, I quit my job, dedicated my time to my children’s health-care needs, and started traveling out of state frequently for my daughter’s treatment.
As a six-year stretch of various cancer treatments for her began, I didn’t know that I was going to get an intensive course on how to be ministered to and in turn how to minister to others.
I’d like to share a few of the lessons that personally helped me when I was the one being served:
Say yes to help—if it actually is helpful. It can be hard to be on the receiving end of service. It is humbling since it can bring up vulnerabilities and weaknesses. But if someone offers something that would be helpful to you, say yes! Some offers may not be helpful, and in those cases, it is appropriate to politely decline. Maybe in that case you can suggest something they could do instead. In the future, you can offer to serve someone else.
Reach out. I am grateful for the organization of the Church because there are people in the ward or branch who are responsible to minister to each one of us. We are not alone. If you are in need, humbly reach out. Speak up and let others know a way that they can help. So many struggles are not public knowledge and not shared, so it might be hard for others to know how to help you if you don’t tell them. One example is that we had a few unexpected treatment appointments come up, and we had not yet arranged childcare. I asked a few friends to have my youngest daughter over for playdates to help ease the burden on Grandma, who was primarily caring for her. They were so kind and willing but would not have known I needed that help if I did not ask.
Be graceful in response to people’s well-meaning comments. No one but our Heavenly Father and the Savior can know exactly what you are going through. Be generous in accepting people’s comments or words of sympathy. We all have been in the position of wishing we could take back something we have said. On the rare occasions when people said something that came across the wrong way, I would try to focus on their good intentions and move on.
When able, share your thanks! When you are in the trenches of your trials, thank-you notes or expressions of gratitude might not be a possibility. In those times, it can feel overwhelming to notice and receive any gifts of generosity or love. If you missed an opportunity to share your thanks, remember there is no expiration date for gratitude. You can always reach out later and let them know how much their service meant to you at the time.
During our daughter’s first few months of treatment, our time and energy were filled with the daily grind of our children’s health-care needs. Normally, I like to give people thank-you notes but didn’t make the time for that. Instead, I kept a list on my computer of some of the gifts and acts of service we received, both to remember to thank later and to remind us of the wonderful people watching out for us. This is a list I hold dear to my heart, and it serves as a reminder on how I can help those around me.
To follow Jesus Christ, our ultimate example of being a minister, includes being “willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light” (Mosiah 18:8). I have received many Christlike acts of service, making my burdens light. Being on the receiving end of this kindness is humbling, and I am grateful to have learned more about our Savior’s love by being ministered to by His disciples.

At the time, Christopher recalled, there were many new members and few experienced leaders. There were no temples in Africa yet. “We didn’t have the hopes of going,” Christopher said. “We knew very little about the temple.” In 1992 Christopher and Florence were given an opportunity to gain leadership experience when they were called to preside over the Ghana Accra Mission. During their training, they attended the temple for the first time.

As a mission president, Christopher focused on strengthening families by setting goals to help couples get their marriages legally recognized. Florence focused on connecting with children, especially those who lived in poverty. “The Spirit said, ‘Tell them the story of your life,’” she recalled. “I told them that I grew up in similar circumstances. I told them that I was able to overcome my shyness,” she said. “The Lord heard my prayers. . . . He understood my struggles and my search for a bright and happy future [and] crowned my efforts with blessings too many for me to express.”

Once during the Chukwurahs’ mission, while Christopher was away on assignment, their young son Uchenna grew so sick that Florence thought he would die. “I had no hope anywhere except from the Lord,” she said. As she held Uchenna in her arms, Florence prayed fervently for healing and received impressions about how to care for him. As she followed the promptings, Uchenna’s health improved. “The Lord saved him,” she affirmed.

After returning home from their mission, the Chukwurahs helped build up the Church in Nigeria—and rejoiced in 2005 when a temple opened near the banks of the very stream where they had been baptized. For Christopher, the temple affords Church members an opportunity to put aside concern with worldly appearances and honors and focus on spiritual matters. “If you feel that way, and you can carry it along with you even outside the temple,” he said, “then you will be at peace.”

I was standing outside the chapel waiting for church to begin when he walked up to me, called me by name, and asked, “Do you know why I’m here?”
His pointed query caught me by surprise. Who is this guy? He looks familiar, but I sure don’t know him. And why should I know why he’s here? “No,” I answered, feeling a little awkward.
“I’m here because of you,” he said bluntly.
That got my attention. Though there was a vague familiarity, I couldn’t remember ever meeting him before. I had no idea who he was, yet he was standing there saying he was at church because of me.
My face must have revealed my incredulity. “We have the same gym class at college,” he explained, “and I’ve been watching you.”
Watching me? What does he mean by that?
“I noticed right off that you were different,” he continued. “You never swear. You don’t lose your temper. You don’t smoke. You never tell dirty jokes or even listen to them. You don’t get involved in all the filthy talk that goes on. I really admire you. You’re exactly the kind of person I want to be,” he said. “So I started asking around about you. I found out your name, that you’re a Mormon, and that this is where you go to church. That’s why I’m here.”
There are probably a dozen words I could use to describe how I felt at that moment. I just tried to live the way I’d always been taught, and I probably hadn’t done that especially well. I was preparing to go on a mission, but I certainly wasn’t perfect. And he’d been watching me. That was the scary part. Had I done anything I should be ashamed of? I hoped not.
He stayed for church, and over the next few weeks he took the missionary lessons and was baptized. A year later, just before I left on my mission, he left on his. He served faithfully, returned, and was married in the temple. He is one of the happiest and most peaceful persons I know.
I take no credit for his conversion. I was just trying to live the standards I’d always been taught and believed were right. It wasn’t really me he was watching—it was those standards.
Today, every time I read the Savior’s admonition to “let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven” (Matt. 5:16), I remember the day a stranger walked up to me and said, “I’m here because of you.”

Caden hugged Uncle Brian tight. Brian was going on a mission to Brazil. Caden would miss him. He cried when they left the airport.
When they got home, Grandma said, “I have a surprise for you.”
Grandma gave Caden a big bag. Inside were lots of small plastic blocks. “There are 730 blocks in that bag. That’s one for each day Uncle Brian is gone.”
Grandma handed Caden a plastic board. “You can put a new block on the board every day. When the bag is empty, Uncle Brian will be home again!” Grandma said.
The bag was heavy. 730 blocks is a lot! Caden pulled a red block from the bag. He stuck it on a corner of the board.
“This could be fun,” he said.
Two years felt far away. Uncle Brian was a lot older than Caden, but he was still one of Caden’s best friends.
Caden took the board and bag to his room. Then he knelt down. He asked Heavenly Father to keep Uncle Brian safe.
Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Then months became two years! The tower had red, blue, green, and yellow blocks. It was so tall!
Question for You
What can you do when you miss someone?
Finally it was time for Uncle Brian to come home. Caden took his block tower to the airport to meet him. Everyone hugged. Caden smiled so hard his cheeks hurt.
Uncle Brian looked at Caden’s block building. “Look what you made! It looks almost as big as you.”
“It is!” Caden smiled. “And when I get bigger, I’m going on a mission too.”

Illustration by Dilleen Marsh
“Will you accept this challenge?” the missionaries asked.
The missionaries were focusing on me. After dinner with our family, they left us with a spiritual message and the challenge to read the Book of Mormon and pray to know if it was true. I accepted the challenge without thinking much of it.
I’m an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life, and I pray every night. But I had never actually prayed to find out for myself if the Church is true. I believed it with all my heart, but I had never known that what I believed was true. I thought about this for a while and then committed myself to take the missionaries’ challenge seriously.
On Monday night I read and I prayed, and I didn’t get any kind of confirmation. I began to think, “Be patient, Rachael, the Lord will reveal His answers when it is pleasing to Him.”
This went on for a week. Every night I would end my day by my bedside, where I read and prayed for an answer. By Saturday, I was worn out and could hardly keep my eyes open to read. I was trying so hard to live the gospel and to be an example, yet I was getting no answer.
These feelings began to weigh me down, so I did what I had always been taught. I knelt down and prayed. Nothing happened. So I continued praying, and I poured out my soul to my Heavenly Father. My heart began to ache because I wanted to know if all my efforts were worth it.
With tears streaming down my worried face, I opened up my Book of Mormon to the third chapter of Mosiah and began to read. As I read, the verses quickly caught my weary eyes. I put my name into the scriptures and read aloud, “My [Rachael], I would call your attention, for I have somewhat more to speak unto you. … And he said unto me: Awake, and hear the words which I shall tell thee.” By now my eyes were as big as apples. I was being told to awake and listen to the scriptures. I kept reading as my heart was filled with the Spirit. “For behold, I am come to declare unto you the glad tidings of great joy.
“For the Lord hath heard thy prayers, and hath judged of thy righteousness, and hath sent me to declare unto thee that thou mayest rejoice” (see Mosiah 3:1–4). The Spirit filled my entire room. I knew. I knew without a doubt that this Church was true, for the Lord had heard my prayers.
Some may call it coincidence, and others may call it luck, but I know my Heavenly Father was listening to His daughter here on earth. I know He knows my heart and what I feel. He wants all of us to return to Him. I know this Church is true. The missionaries’ challenge blessed my life.

When Matt was in junior high, he was standing at the bus stop absentmindedly kicking rocks. One of them accidentally hit the shoe of a fellow classmate—the wrong classmate. He was smaller than Matt, and younger, but he just happened to be a member of a very wild gang. The boy began pounding Matt in front of all the other kids at the bus stop. Matt didn’t fight back, knowing that if he did he’d have the entire gang to deal with. He went home humiliated.
Matt got over the incident when he left junior high. Everything was much better in high school and got even better in college. What he learned was that, basically, there are very few situations in life that are permanent. Time heals wounds, and embarrassment.

One Monday morning as I prayed, I had a strong impression to ask Heavenly Father to give my son a special dream, for it was only when he slept that he was still enough to listen. The specific words to say came gently to my mind. I was startled. I doubted that I had understood the impression correctly. Could I do such a thing? However, after receiving the same prompting two more times, I obeyed. As I knelt in prayer, I was moved to ask specifically for my son to have a bright recollection of all his guilt and to feel the burden of his sins, but also to know immediately that the Savior loved him and wanted him back.
Time passed. Then late one summer night my son came to the house. He stood in the doorway, unsure of his welcome. He told us he had been to visit with the bishop and that he wanted to go on a mission! I ran to him and threw my arms around him, and we both wept. For about two hours he described the pain of what he’d been going through and begged for our forgiveness.
My husband, who had been deeply hurt, was skeptical at first. After many hours of talking, our son reached over and put his hands on his dad’s knees and asked him if he would give him a father’s blessing. I witnessed a second miracle that night as tears came to my husband’s eyes and his heart was immediately softened.
Some time later, my son was asked to speak at a leadership meeting about his return to Church activity. At the meeting he stood and said, “One night I had a dream, and in the dream I had a bright recollection of all my guilt. I felt the burden of my sins but knew immediately that the Savior loved me and wanted me back.”
I was overcome with emotion. I knew then as never before that Heavenly Father had not only responded to my heartfelt fasting and prayer but had also, in his merciful wisdom, graciously taught me what to pray for.

On the scheduled, frosty Saturday morning, 16 carloads of LDS youths from the Brigham Young University 36th Branch met at 8:00 A.M. dressed in uniforms of bib overalls and work gloves. Their project?—six homes of senior citizens in surrounding towns that had yard cleanup and painting jobs to be done.

“We are hoeing, daily hoeing” and “Put your shoulder to the wheel, push along,” rang through the air as the service project got underway.

Window frames took on a new coat of paint, garden plots were cleared for spring planting, and apples and walnuts were gathered from trees while the homeowners smiled and offered encouragement and thanks.

A quarter-acre field of tall weeds looked a little awesome to another group, but three hours later, when bare soil could be seen, one proud worker pointed to the pile of weeds and exclaimed, “Isn’t it lovely? Our own personal haystack.”

One widow invited her young workers in for hot chocolate, popcorn, and homemade rolls when they finished their job. “This is what I miss,” she said. “We had a family of seven children.”

“This type of activity really unites us in the true spirit of helping each other,” commented a worker. “Working side by side with people helps you to get to know them a lot better than you could through a social activity.”

When the jobs were completed, the dusty work crews went picnicking in the canyon.

“These priesthood activities act as lab periods to teach individuals what they ought to do on their own,” explained the head of the planning committee. “They are even more meaningful when the participants go home and, on their own, quietly help their neighbors.”

I recently met a woman who was preparing to be baptized. This particular Sunday she arrived at church having walked two miles (3 km) in heavy mud. She immediately went into the restroom, removed her muddy clothes, washed, and put on clean Sunday clothes. In the Relief Society meeting she told of her conversion. I was touched by her overwhelming desire to be washed clean and pure through repentance and the atoning sacrifice of the Savior and her willingness to give up her “old life” in order to make sacred covenants with our Father in Heaven. She had separated from her boyfriend, was overcoming addictions in order to live the Word of Wisdom, quit her Sunday job, and lost the friendship of loved ones when she announced her plans to be baptized. She was so anxious to give away all of her sins that she might be washed clean and feel the redeeming love of the Savior. I was inspired that morning by her desire to become both physically and spiritually clean.

I really like fishing because I can get out in nature and just get away from life and be calm. I started going when I was about 10 or 11. I caught a really big fish, and that got me really excited to go out fishing with my dad. Now my dad and I compete in tournaments pretty often, and I’d like to become a professional bass fisherman someday.
To get really good at fishing, you have to spend time on the water. You have to try to educate yourself as much as possible by doing things like watching videos and talking to as many people as you can, and then just going fishing. It takes a lot of practice.
Just like with fishing, if you want to get a testimony and maintain it, you have to keep practicing—keep reading the scriptures and going to church and going to seminary and studying.
I’m the only member of the Church in my school. I drive to another town every morning for seminary where we have about 20 students. It’s been hard being the only member in my school, so I’ve just had to separate myself from some things. Fishing gives me something positive to do so I don’t have to feel like I have to be involved with other bad things.
Josh A., 16, California, USA

Inspired by Sister Elaine S. Dalton’s talk “Guardians of Virtue” from the general Young Women meeting last year (see Ensign, May 2011, 121–24), youth of the Eastern Cape province in South Africa decided to carry out a similar activity to demonstrate their commitment to “lay aside the things of this world, and seek for the things of a better” (D&C 25:10). On a windy morning 45 youth and leaders met outside a dance club, symbolizing the world and its values, and walked 22.6 km (14 miles) to the chapel, symbolizing Zion and their commitment to the Lord and His standards.
These young men and women happily marched their way up and down hills, across highways and the town. The youth relied on each other to keep walking despite fatigue and aching muscles. They sang songs, talked about their challenges, and even held onto each other as they crossed roads and climbed steep hills.
“This is very exhausting,” said Zukhanye M., a Laurel, during the walk. “But it is very enjoyable as it helps us bond with our fellow brothers and sisters. This has definitely taught me to try exercise more!”
Whilst their goal was achieved to walk to Zion symbolically, the ultimate goal is to all hold firm to the gospel standards and obtain exaltation, not alone, but together as a ward family.

It seems like everybody is getting a tattoo these days, and at one point I wanted one too. A lot of my friends had tattoos, and I thought they made you look cool and tough. Thankfully, Heavenly Father reminded me through the Spirit who I really am and gave me the strength to respect my body.
One day a tattoo shop my friends talked highly about was having a big sale. At that time in my life, I’d made some mistakes that had hurt and wounded my spirit, but I believed that Heavenly Father still loved me and could heal me. Still, I didn’t think a cool tattoo was that bad. As I went down to the tattoo place, I contemplated where I wanted to place the snowboarder tattoo I was about to get. As I sat down in the tattoo shop, however, the Spirit brought other questions to my mind: “Why do I want something that would permanently alter my body just to fit in? Have I forgotten that my body is a temple?” (See 1 Corinthians 3:16–19.) The longer I sat, the more the Spirit prompted me that I was about to make a huge mistake. Fortunately, I couldn’t ignore what I was feeling, so I got up and left.
I’ve never looked back on that decision. I am grateful that Heavenly Father had not forgotten me and was willing to warn me through the Spirit. I know that Heavenly Father does care about all of us, no matter where we may be.

Back home, he attended George Washington University, studying mechanical engineering and playing clarinet and saxophone in a jazz band. As he neared university graduation, all of his career plans seemed to be on schedule. But then “the Lord placed a bombshell in my little world: Jeanene Watkins.” A vivacious young woman, Jeanene was the daughter of Utah’s Senator Arthur V. Watkins.
Their developing relationship presented a problem for Richard’s carefully laid career plans. One night Jeanene said to him, “When I marry, it will be in the temple to a returned missionary.” He had not thought much about a mission, but with that motivation, he prayed harder than ever before and ended up talking to the bishop about it. Soon after graduation, he left for a mission to Uruguay. Jeanene graduated the following June in sociology and left the next day for a mission to the northwestern states. Soon after they returned home, they were married in the Manti Temple.

A little over a month ago, I received a message from a returned missionary who had served with us. He said: “The last while has been tough. Battling anxiety and depression every day has been weighing me down, and it is very difficult. I feel alone and just miserable. I have been praying for the guidance of our Heavenly Father for peace and comfort in what I can do to battle the hardship. … While I was praying, I felt the prompting of the Spirit tell me that I needed to be paying my tithing in full. … I felt the Spirit so strongly, and I immediately felt the urge to do so. With the desire to do so, I felt the prompting that ‘if you pay your tithing, everything will be OK.’ I am still struggling to find peace, but I do have a testimony in our Savior and that through my obedience, I can feel and find the peace I am looking for in my heart and mind. I have recently decided to come back to the Church and to seek the Spirit in all that I do.”

Now he is doing very well. You also may ask Heavenly Father for peace, but the answer may be different than what you anticipate it will be. As long as you seek to know of the Savior and pray to Heavenly Father, He will give you a customized answer for you.

When an LDS classmate invited Horváth Attila, 16, to sacrament meeting, Attila liked what he saw.

“Then, when my friend told me the Church was very family-centered, I became even more interested.”

Within weeks, Attila was baptized.

Three months later, his father asked to hear the discussions. “I knew enough about the Church by that time,” says Attila, “that I could help my father learn about it. The knowledge I had received in seminary helped me explain the scriptures to him. But since he smoked and drank coffee a lot, I didn’t have the faith that he would be baptized. I was amazed when I saw how—with the help of our Heavenly Father—he was able to rid those things from his life. Two months later, I baptized my father!

“Then when my mother saw how happy my father and I were in the Church, she also started to be interested. I baptized her three months after baptizing my father! The next day, my whole family came to church and bore their testimonies. It’s not possible to describe what kind of feeling it was for me.”

I could tell Mom was upset by the look on her face as she hung up the phone.
“Who was it?” I asked.
“That was Tim’s mom,” Mom said.
Tim was a friendly boy from my class in school last year. He was a good basketball player, and once he brought his pet lizard to class.
Mom sat down next to me on the couch. “Tim’s mom said the doctors just found out that Tim has cancer,” she said.
Mom explained that cancer is a sickness, but not like a cold or the flu. She said Tim would have to stay in the hospital for a long time. It would be so expensive that Tim’s family might have to sell their home.
That night during family prayer, Mom asked Heavenly Father to bless and comfort Tim’s family. Then she said, “And please help us to know how we can help Tim.”
As I lay in bed a little while later, I thought about Mom’s prayer. But what could I do to help? I said a short prayer. “Heavenly Father, please let me know what I can do to help Tim.”
When I opened my eyes, I looked around my darkened room. I noticed a dump truck that I hadn’t used in months and a puzzle that was too easy for me now. Suddenly, my heart started to get warm.
The next morning I burst into the kitchen and announced, “I want to sell my old toys and give the money to Tim.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Mom said.
We found a big box and filled it with toys and games I no longer played with.
“I’ll bet Grandma has some old toys,” Mom said.
“Maybe our neighbors do too,” I said.
We drove to Grandma’s house, and she helped us round up toys from her basement. Then we walked around our neighborhood and collected more. By the end of the day we had quite a few boxes full of toys and games. My heart pounded when I looked at them and thought about Tim.
On Saturday, we had a yard sale. A table in our front yard overflowed with dolls, trucks, stuffed animals, and board games. I put a picture of Tim on a large can. I told people that all of the money from our yard sale would go to help Tim and his family.
By afternoon, almost all of the toys were gone, and our can was filled with dollar bills and change.
That night I wrote a letter to Tim telling him that we were thinking of him and praying for him. I told him about our yard sale and put the letter and the money in the envelope. My heart felt warm, and I knew that I was doing a good thing for Tim and his family.
About a week later, I got a letter from Tim and his mom. They said they were filled with gratitude that I had thought to do such a thing. I knew it was Heavenly Father who helped me know how I could help. All I had to do was ask, listen, and then do it.

After Hsiao-lung was baptized, she shared the excitement she found in the gospel with her friend Chu Chih-t’ao.
“Everyone in the Church was so friendly to me,” Chih-t’ao, 17, now a member of the Second Ward, said. “But in the beginning my faith wasn’t strong. I read the scriptures when the missionaries taught me, and I prayed. I received an answer from God that the Church is true, so I decided to be baptized. But it was after I joined the Church that my testimony really grew, thanks to help from other members who showed their love and concern. Now I have a very strong faith.”

During my senior year of high school I decided to try out for the school musical. I liked to sing, and ever since I was young I enjoyed acting. When I was in elementary school, I wrote and put on plays with my friends for our fellow classmates. But somewhere between elementary and high school I developed a severe case of stage fright. Being on the stage was both exhilarating and terrifying!
On the day before auditions I received some alarming news—the auditions would be “open,” meaning I’d have to sing in front of not only the teachers, but all the students who were trying out. I was devastated. The thought of singing a solo in front of a room full of students made me numb with fear. I couldn’t see how I could possibly go through with it.
That night, I began to debate if I should even try out. I went through the pros and cons with my mom. My older brother overheard our conversation. “I don’t know why you’re so worried,” he said with some frustration. “You can sing and dance just as well as anyone else.” His words surprised me because he rarely said things like that. I knew he cared about me, but at the time he usually didn’t admit to it. The pros won, and I decided to try out.
The following day I entered the drama room after school to await my audition. As I sat with the other students in the packed classroom, I could feel the color leave my face, and my whole body trembled slightly. I was nervous and unable to calm myself. Then the thought came to mind: “My brother believes in me. He believes I can do this.” Maybe I would be just fine after all.
With courage in my brother’s words, I walked on stage, phased out all the faces in the crowd, and sang. I sang my heart out. I gave it all I had and finished strong. When I was done, I looked out at my peers and teachers and saw many smiles. I was happy for performing so well and relieved it was over.
I made call-backs and got a part. I’m glad I tried out because that musical was a highlight of my senior year.
The experience of that audition has stuck with me. My brother’s words, and knowing he believed in me, helped me to conquer something that seemed so impossible to me.

When we started having church at home because of the COVID-19 pandemic, I helped give the sacrament to my family. It was nice to be able to do this in my own home, and it made me realize how grateful I am for the sacrament. I am grateful that I was able to live through this time of having church at home.
One of our neighbors needed someone to bring the sacrament to her. There wasn’t anyone in her home who could prepare or bless the sacrament because her husband had passed away a few years ago. She was also being careful with visitors because of the pandemic. My dad and I are her ministering brothers, so we offered to give her the sacrament while wearing masks and taking other precautions for her safety.
She was super grateful that we could come over. It made me feel a little sad that she was lonely, since she was the only one at her house during the pandemic. But I was also grateful that I could offer her something so important to make her happy. It was nice to be able to serve her. It made me happy that my dad and I were able to go and serve our neighbor.
I’m grateful to have the priesthood because it benefits not only me but also other people. It helps me become a better person and helps me see how I can serve others. Passing the sacrament in my home and to my neighbor opened my eyes. I need to take advantage of the opportunity to pass the sacrament and serve people who can’t do it for themselves. I’m grateful I could use the priesthood to bless other people and my family.

Last year, Lyndsey Payzant and her mom, of the Rancho Cucamonga California Stake, searched in vain for a modest dress at a department store near their home in Alta Loma. After being approached by a store manager to see if they were finding what they needed, Lindsey and her mom explained that they were having trouble finding modest clothing in the store.

The store manager was interested in what they had to say and helped set up a meeting with Lyndsey, her mom, and the store’s managers and buyers. Having read about some forward-thinking Kansas young women, Lyndsey went to her Young Women group for help on what to propose at the meeting (see New Era, Jan. 2001, 28).

The meeting was a success, and Lyndsey was invited to help put on a fashion show of appropriate and modest clothing. Lyndsey got to pick most of the clothes, and she already has plans to meet with the store’s designers to have a spring fashion show as well. Strike one up for modesty … again!