Gospel Story Finder

Compassion for others abounds in Coventry. On 11 March 2023, over 60 women from the community gathered to provide support for the children of Gatispo, a rural community in eastern Rwanda. The joint project was spearheaded by Compassion Direct UK and female members of the Coventry Stake of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Because of poverty and health-related issues, many of the Rwandan children are hungry and lack decent clothing for school. The struggle for survival and dignity is real for many families in the rural community of Gatispo, particularly for those affected by HIV and its ripple effects.
To offset some of these challenges, women in the Coventry community sewed nearly 50 pairs of Bermuda shorts for the children so they could feel comfortable attending school.
The Day of Compassion was also designed to celebrate International Women’s Day and the organisation of the Relief Society of the Church, through service to others.
The event was attended by female leaders in the community, who served as panel members in a question-and-answer session focused on the importance and significance of women. The panel consisted of Councillor Ann Isherwood, mayor of the borough of Redditch; Nyear Nazir, councillor for Batchley and Brockhill and deputy leader at Redditch Borough Council; and Kate Taroni, president of the Coventry Stake Relief Society.
Mayor Isherwood said, “It’s International Women’s Week and I felt honoured to meet with sisters that are like-minded. Christlike service, helping people [whom] we will never meet is a great privilege. I feel honoured to be part of an organisation that recognises this.”
“The worldwide struggle of women continues,” noted Councillor Nazir. “Change is slowly happening. My Muslim faith empowers women. Women are nurturers. A nurturing woman can create a beautiful society. Celebrating women is paramount. We are there to support other women and families.”
Kate Taroni added, “It’s been really good to celebrate International Women’s Day. Being a woman is part of our identity. We are daughters of God, and this reminds us of who we really are.”
The chairman of Compassion Direct UK will be taking the clothing to Gatispo at the end of March. The charity provides practical support to rural children and families living in poverty by providing environmentally sustainable solutions and self-help projects in the developing world.

If you were out for a drive in Rockledge, Florida, and happened to turn onto Faull Lane, you probably wouldn’t think twice about what you saw. Sure, the houses in the neighborhood are neat and clean looking, and the yards are well kept. But there’s nothing particularly unusual about them. Except, perhaps, for number 812.
Was that house there last week? Yesterday?
You think about it for a minute and realize that not long ago, there was nothing where that house is now standing but an empty lot. You’re almost certain that the house, complete with a fully finished yard, was nothing but a patch of dusty ground just a few weeks before. But how does a house appear out of nowhere?
Flash back to a very warm summer afternoon in Cocoa, Florida, at the Cocoa stake center. Ashley Foss, a Laurel, is giving what amounts to a pep talk to the youth from the Cocoa and Orlando South stakes.
“Remember, Florida is the Sunshine State,” she says. “It’s going to be hot tomorrow, so be ready and bring a squirt bottle!”
Ashley goes on to give other good advice for the outdoor activity they’re planning—like wearing clothes that can get dirty, drinking plenty of water, using sunscreen. Then Ashley delivers the clincher.
“It usually takes seven or eight months to build a house, and we’re going to do it in a day!”
Building a house in one day. They’ve been hearing about it for months, and the next day it will finally materialize.
Although the room is warm and the youth are perhaps a bit drowsy, there is a real change in the feeling in the room.
But you need a lot more than smiles and enthusiasm to build a house—especially when you’re doing it for youth conference. In fact, in many stakes a project like this wouldn’t be possible. But the Cocoa Stake is home to a lot of adults who are experts in construction, so with their help, the youth committee decided to give it a try. The young men and young women teamed up with Habitat for Humanity, a Christian organization dedicated to building decent housing for families who couldn’t otherwise afford it.
Sara Judd, a Laurel on the youth committee, was in charge of finding donors for materials, goods, and services to be used during the building. But where do you go when you have to find things like a crane, bottled water, T-shirts, two-way radios, sod and landscaping materials, tents, tables, chairs, and portable rest rooms? With items that diverse, there’s not exactly a place for one-stop shopping.
“Brother [Kerry] Gilger, the stake Young Men president, and I opened up the yellow pages at one of the youth committee meetings,” says Sara. “We made a list of the businesses that might be willing to donate something, and then we started making phone calls.”
Because many of the people Sara and the others on the committee worked with were members of other faiths, the project wasn’t just a good leadership and organizational skills builder; it was also a great missionary project.
“I went to all the Habitat for Humanity meetings we were required to attend as part of this project,” says Sara, who used her involvement as a Laurel project. “I learned a lot. Many of the people involved, including the family we were building for, were from different religious faiths. It was neat to work together toward the same goal.”
Although the homes built by Habitat for Humanity are simple and relatively small, construction usually takes at least a few months. But the youth committee knew that youth conference wouldn’t last longer than a few days. Their solution? Get the house done, start to finish, in one day.
“A ‘blitz build’ like this has been done before in other areas,” says Logan Newby, a priest on the youth committee. “But the people in charge of the Habitat chapter here weren’t sure that we could do it, especially with so many teenagers helping. We knew it would be great, and that everyone would really get into it, so we made a plan and presented it.”
The plan included an early start, 6:00 A.M., and a solution for every conceivable problem. For instance, most teenagers don’t know the first thing about building a house. So the youth were divided into groups and then paired with skilled laborers—people who volunteered to work for free—to oversee everything they did. There were so many teens involved that they couldn’t all work on the house at the same time, leaving them with a lot of time that wasn’t filled. No problem. The youth committee devised other projects to work on, things like putting in the yard, building a shed, and cleaning nearby vacant lots. Finally, there were countless safety issues to be addressed. That seemed to be the highest hurdle to clear.
“We thought that might be the end of this idea,” says Sara. “But the police, the Red Cross, and a local ambulance service all donated their time to help us. Once that was taken care of, we were ready to go.”
On the day of the build, more than 300 teens are up before the sun. In the darkness, the cement foundation—poured a few days earlier to give it time to cure—is barely visible. By the time the sun is shining, the cement is surrounded by studs, and the framework for the roof is being put on. Skilled laborers do the technical work, while teenagers happily sweep, nail, and paint where they are told.
By lunch, the house is starting to take shape. Housing inspectors are on hand to approve each phase of the project as it is finished. And though it’s scorching hot, smiles are seen all around.
“I think everyone really likes coming together for something like this. It makes us feel good to be here, helping a family out,” says Mia Maid Kristin Turley.
By mid-afternoon, youth are helping with finish work. One paints trim; another helps put house numbers on. One even tests the porch light to make sure it’s working. Soon, kitchen cabinets and fixtures are installed by an expert. He is cleaned up after by several broom-toting teenagers.
Later on, most everyone helps lay sod. A few people plant flowers and trees, and everyone—plants and people—gets a long drink of water.
By this time, some of the local media have come to see what all the excitement is about. Other important people in town have come to see, too. A few of them, including Rockledge Mayor, Jack Oats, even roll up their sleeves and help.
“These kids are unbelievable,” says the mayor. “With kids like this, who aren’t afraid to talk about and live what they believe in, we don’t have to worry about the future.”
Soon the building inspector comes for a last walk-through. He declares it not only up to code but one of the most soundly built houses he has ever seen.
At 6:00 P.M., just 12 hours after the project began, there is a house standing where there was just an empty lot. The youth gather in the yard and watch as the homeowner, Karol DeKlercq, is presented the keys to her new house.
“Your love will forever be a part of our lives,” she says. “For the rest of my life and as my [four] children grow and their hands touch all you have built, the prints of your love will forever be there.”
There are tears in just about everybody’s eyes as the reality of what has happened sinks in. The DeKlercq family had previously rented a house that had fallen into disrepair, and they had no hope of ever having a place of their own. They now have 1,200 square feet—three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and an eating area—to call home.
Every time a new house is finished, representatives from Habitat for Humanity present the homeowner with a Bible to keep as a family treasure. This time, in addition to the Bible, the family also received a triple combination and a framed copy of The Family: A Proclamation to the World.
After these gifts have been given and the youth have a chance to hug or congratulate Karol, they load up into waiting vans and head for a park where a well-deserved barbecue is being prepared. After they leave, the neighborhood is still—the first time all day that the hubbub has quieted down to anything less than a dull roar.
After the dust has settled and the youth and their leaders have had a few days to rest, they’ll meet and discuss the conference. They’ll talk about things that were successful, things that could have been done differently. But by all accounts, the project was a huge hit.
“I love missionary work, and I love service,” says Laurel Kelli Baker. “What could be more fun than a youth conference project that combines both of them?”
And so when you’re taking that drive through a small neighborhood in the middle of Florida, you can be sure that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. Yes, that house did spring up overnight.
To be sure, the lot the house sits on is a fairly ordinary piece of land, nothing special really. Nothing special unless you consider what the helping hands of hundreds of teenagers accomplished there: they’ve given a family a place to call home.

In St. Johns, New Brunswick, Joseph found a schooner captain willing to take him across to Nova Scotia for working on board en route. While crossing in a storm the young missionary saw what looked like a star and immediately told the captain, who recognized it as the Digby Lighthouse. The captain was barely able to change course in time to avoid the rocks and make it through the narrow passageway (called “Digby Gut”) and on into port at Digby (1). But now let Elder Millett again speak for himself, this 19-year-old just arrived in the field:

When I was a teenager, my family moved to New Jersey. I stayed behind with my grandparents for the summer and helped them farm. One morning I was slow getting out of bed. When my grandfather came to get me, he found me kneeling by my bed, in the middle of my morning prayer. He quietly went out and waited for me. As soon as I finished, he came in and gave me a big hug and said how pleased he was to see me praying. He told me how much it meant to him to pray and how he always began the day by praying. There was no reprimand for being late. I’ve always felt that praying was more special because of the way he reacted.

Rex: Among the more obvious people to whom we can turn for help are our Heavenly Father—through scripture study and prayer—families, roommates, friends, bishop or other church leaders. And we faculty members also want to help. I will never forget the impression made on me by a particular professor when I was a student here. We used to register by standing in long lines in the Fieldhouse to enroll for each class. At the end of each line, the teacher for that particular class handed out an IBM card, if there were any left. If there weren’t any left, you got in another long line. Believe me, whatever its minor disadvantages, telephone registration is a great improvement.
On my first registration day, when I finally reached the front of the line for a political science class, I found a thoroughly congenial faculty member who, to my amazement, called me by name. I had never seen him before. He knew that I was a prelaw student and said how much he was looking forward to having me in his class and giving me any help that I needed in preparing for law school. To this day I have no idea how he knew who I was or what my interests were, but that was the beginning of a relationship with Stewart Grow that would last all of his life. He not only guided me during my BYU days, but also through law school and my professional career. His advice was helpful, but even more helpful was the sure knowledge that there was always someone there who cared about me. Stewart Grow is no longer with us, but there are other faculty members just as conscientious. Take advantage of their willingness to help. In fact, the reason for the new mentoring program is that we want to help create more relationships like the one I enjoyed with Professor Grow. One of BYU’s goals is to be “user friendly.”

The Primary children in the Willow Creek First Ward, Sandy Utah Willow Creek Stake, learned about the pioneers when they performed in a play for their ward. They acted out scenes from the building of the Kirtland, Nauvoo, and Salt Lake Temples, and some things that happened in between. It took them all summer to plan and to learn their parts, but on the night of the big pageant, they were ready.
Before the curtain opened, two children dressed as Joseph Smith and Brigham Young stood onstage and talked about building the Kirtland Temple. “The Lord has made it perfectly clear,” Joseph said to the audience. “He has commanded us to build a temple here in Kirtland.”
These early Church members donated their time, talents, and money to follow the Lord’s commandments. “I think they had to sacrifice a lot to build the temple,” says Kyle Esplin, 9, one of the narrators. “I’m paying my tithing now to help build up the Church.” When Kyle pays his tithing, he tries to remember the sacrifices the pioneers made.
The Latter-day Saints lived in Kirtland, Ohio, for eight years before they were forced to leave. They moved soon after they completed and dedicated the Kirtland Temple. When they arrived in Nauvoo, Illinois, they started to build another house of the Lord. Nauvoo became a large, prosperous city, and the people were happy there for some time. But soon they began to be persecuted, so the Nauvoo leaders formed a band of young men called the “whistling and whittling brigade.” The young men in the brigade looked for any suspicious-looking strangers and followed them, whittling sticks and whistling.
Jesse Fackrell, 10, one of the narrators, enjoyed watching the brigade on stage. “I thought it was neat that the boys went around and watched for troublemakers and protected the people,” he says.
Another sacrifice the early Church members in Nauvoo made was donating pennies to the temple fund. “I think they really felt good about giving something up for something else really important. It might have only been a little, but they felt thankful to be able to give their money,” says Mary Garbett, 10. One of Mary’s parts was being a harvester in the fields. In her role, she sold the vegetables she gathered so she could have money to donate to the temple.
Mary and other children in the ward also went to their stake center for the dedication of the new Nauvoo Temple in June 2002. Seeing the dedication helped the children better understand the sacrifices made by the pioneers for the original Nauvoo Temple.
After working hard to build the Nauvoo Temple, the people had to leave it behind after the Prophet Joseph was killed. Mobs forced many of them out of Nauvoo in the dead of winter. Brigham Young led them to a new home in the West.
Though life was very hard for the pioneers, and they really did walk and walk, they also managed to dance and sing during their trek west. The children in the play performed a quilt dance and had a hoedown with real fiddlers to show the audience that the journey was joyful at times. Many of the pioneer children had great adventures on their way to the Salt Lake Valley. They saw buffalo and mountains, and they preferred to walk a lot of the time because riding in the wagon was so bumpy.
Jeffrey Yee, 11, and his younger brother Ryan, 6, performed the parts of James and Joseph Kirkwood. James was one of the young heroes of the pioneer trek. He, his mother, and his three brothers had come from Scotland, and they set out together to cross the plains with their handcart. James took care of his four-year-old brother, Joseph. When Joseph was too tired to walk any farther on Rocky Ridge, James carried him. When they finally got to the camp, James set his little brother down safely by the campfire. James died beside the fire from the cold and exhaustion.
“I think that he was very responsible and brave. His little brother must have been grateful for a brother to look up to,” Jeff says about his character. “Because he was kind to his little brother, he helps me know it’s not nice to make fun of my little brother. He usually needs help because he is so young, so I try to help him.”
Though getting there was difficult, the Saints finally made it to the Salt Lake Valley, where Brigham Young dug his cane into the soil and said, “Here we will build the temple of our God.”
Davis Esplin, 11, learned a lot from performing the part of Brother Brigham. “I have a new respect for Brigham Young because I didn’t know how hard it was to build the temple.”
After dedicating the cornerstone, it took 40 years to complete the Salt Lake Temple. By that time, Wilford Woodruff had become President of the Church. He dedicated the temple on 6 April 1893. There was even a special dedication session for children under eight so that more Primary children could attend.
The Saints spent years building each of the three temples, suffering setbacks along the way. But they never gave up. Why did they do it? Zach Fackrell, 12, says it was because “they had faith and they knew it was important to get it done so they could do what the Lord wanted them to do.” Zach’s brother Jed, 10, says the temple is really important to him because “that’s where you can do baptisms for the dead, and that’s where you can get married so you can live with Heavenly Father again.”
Some children long ago had the right idea. After the Salt Lake Temple was completed, two boys brought their younger brothers to the temple so they could touch the walls. “We want them to know how great the temple is,” one of the older brothers says in the play.
“Yes,” the other boy says, “so they’ll want to go inside when they get big!”
Those children knew the importance of building temples, even though it required so much. They knew that just as they could touch the temple, the Spirit inside the temple could touch them, too. That was why they walked, and walked, and walked. …

Photographs courtesy of the Lewis family and by Richard M. Romney and Donal Pearce
Blake Lewis, 17, was among the leaders at the Utah 6A state high school cross-country championships, and his best friend and teammate, Sean Rausch, 18, was right behind him. “Our team, Riverton, had never won state before, and we were going for it,” Sean says.
The race was intense, but Riverton was doing well. With only 200 meters (220 yards) left in the three-mile race, the first runners were about to leave the hills and grass behind, make a sharp turn, and enter the stadium where they would sprint to the finish.
Then, Blake fell. Not from a trip or a stumble. He collapsed. The tibia bone in his lower leg had snapped.
“I came around a corner and saw Blake lying on the ground, holding his leg and screaming in pain,” Sean remembers.
Even though Sean was a senior and this was his last chance to race at state, he didn’t hesitate. “I had no thought of leaving Blake and just finishing the race,” he says. “He wanted to finish and so did I, and I was ready to help him the whole way. So, I put him on my back and carried him to the finish line.”
Two hundred meters is a long way to carry somebody that’s your same height and weight. “I wanted to comfort him,” Sean says. “So, I kept reminding him of the years we’d been running together, of the 1,250 miles (2,012 km) we’d run together over the summer.”
In between Blake’s groans, Sean kept repeating, “We’re a team, and we’re a family.” An official rushed up to tell them giving assistance to another runner wasn’t allowed, but Sean said it didn’t matter. “We’re in this together,” he said, “and we’re going to finish it together.” The official disqualified them both, but allowed them to continue.
At the end of their ordeal, Sean gently set Blake down so that he could step—actually, hop—over the finish line. Then Blake, with help, climbed into an ambulance.
The Riverton men’s team took third place as a team, but they didn’t celebrate. Instead, they kneeled and prayed for Blake. And when the women’s team found out about Blake, they did the same.
“I was in the hospital when I heard they had prayed for me,” Blake said. “That was so emotional, that my teammates would do that for me.”
“We prayed that Blake would be all right, and that nothing too serious would result,” Sean says. And he believes the prayer was answered. “The doctor said the injury could have been a lot worse if Blake had tried to finish the race on his own.”
“And the doctor told my mom it was a miracle that it was a clean break, lined up so straight that no surgery was necessary,” Blake says. “Otherwise they would have placed a metal rod in my leg, and running would have become painful.”
Websites, TV stations, and newspapers across the USA featured accounts of Sean carrying Blake to the finish line. A social media video went viral, and the story popped up in Asia, Australia, South America, and Europe.
“I think our story became popular because people like to be reminded there’s still good in the world,” Blake says. Sean agrees: “It’s nice to see that a simple act of kindness can touch so many lives.”
The local community also celebrated Sean’s good deed. At Riverton’s annual Veteran’s Day celebration, which features a 5K and a one-mile run, Sean was recognized as a “local hero,” and Blake was invited to sound the horn to start the race.
In a short speech, Sean said, “I’m not a hero. I was just taking care of my brother.”
Both young men feel their experience reinforced gospel principles to them.
“We all have hardships in our lives,” Blake says. “But just like Sean was there for me, the Savior is there for us. If we let Him, He’ll pick us up and help us finish.”
“If any one of us on the team went down,” Sean says, “the rest of the team would be there for him.” The same is true for his priesthood quorum. “We’re always there as a team, serving together. For Mutual, Church meetings, sacrament, and any service that anybody needs, we’re always trying to help and support each other.”
“When we run, we always set goals, then train to meet those goals,” Blake said. “If you don’t train, you’re not going to get better. Our ultimate eternal goal is to have eternal life and to return to our Heavenly Father. So, we have spiritual goals, and we train through prayer, scripture study, service, staying worthy, repentance—so that we can make it to the spiritual finish line.”

When I was growing up in Lehi, Utah, USA, my family had a garden large enough that we rotated the corn and potatoes every year. One day my father told me to weed the corn while he weeded the potatoes. As I worked my way down a row of six-inch-high (15 cm) corn, I found a solitary potato plant growing larger and more beautiful than any of the potato plants on Dad’s side of the garden. I called to him and asked, “What should I do with this?”
Dad barely looked up. “Pull it.”
Believing he hadn’t realized I was pointing to a potato plant, I objected, “But Dad, it isn’t a weed. It’s a potato.” Again, without looking up, he said, “Not this year. This year it’s a weed. Pull it.” So I did.
Since then I have often pondered the wisdom of my father’s words. I have come to realize that obedience is not just making a right choice but making a right choice in the right season. When I consider all the things Heavenly Father would have me do in this life, doing them at the right time seems as critical as doing them at all. For instance, serving a mission, dating, getting married, having children, gaining an education, and beginning full-time employment are right choices. Yet when people do these good things in the wrong order, the consequences are often disastrous.
King Benjamin taught that we should “see that all … things are done in wisdom and order” (Mosiah 4:27). Elder Neal A. Maxwell (1926–2004) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, “Faith also includes trust in God’s timing, for He has said, ‘All things must come to pass in their time’ (D&C 64:32).”1
I believe Satan deceives us by convincing us to do the right things in the wrong order: sexual intimacy before marriage, dating before age 16, becoming a parent and then getting married, and so forth. The greatest commandments of God, when compromised or polluted, become plants grown out of season—weeds. When I have been tempted to justify doing the right thing in the wrong season, I have been grateful for my father’s important lesson: “Not this year. This year it’s a weed. Pull it.”

I remember how happy I felt. In all my 12-year-old life, I had never had this much fun. I had gone to an amusement park with a friend and her family where we proceeded to eat (so it seemed) several hundred pounds of junk food, ride every ride at least twice, get sunburned, and just generally have a great time. At the end of the day we were ready to take a break, so we chose a lazy, gondola-type ride.
We got into a car with two other girls who seemed to be about our age. We smiled at them, said hello, and continued the conversation we were having before we got on the ride. I could sense the two girls were staring at us.
“Hi,” I said again, uneasily trying to force a smile on my face.
“We were hoping no one would be on this car with us,” said one, shooting me an ugly look. “Well, do you mind if we smoke a joint?”
I glanced at my friend. She wasn’t moving or saying anything; she just looked at me as if to say, “What do we do now?”
I wanted that girl to vanish. I wanted to run away. My mind was racing. What she was suggesting was not only against my standards; it was against the law. I searched for the right words, but I was so nervous I just started blurting things out.
“No … I mean yes … Of course we would mind … What I mean is DON‘T DO IT.”
When the ride finally touched down, my friend and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. As soon as we were out of earshot, my friend turned to me and said, “Well, I guess you told them.” Then she winked at me.
We both started to laugh. I had probably looked pretty silly, but I got my point across, and I felt good about that.
On that ride, I didn’t have the presence of mind to think about what I was doing. My actions that day were a direct and automatic result of what I had decided long before—to mind my parents and, more importantly, to mind my Father in Heaven. My commitment as a young Primary girl to stand up for what I knew was right had come to my rescue that day, several years later, high above the ground.

For a young man named Prophet living in Ghana, setting the goal in Children and Youth to learn how to play the piano was only the beginning. “It’s my goal to also help other people know what I am learning,” Prophet says.

Even though he’s not yet an instructor, his goal has already grown into something much bigger than he ever imagined. There are now 50 students taking piano classes at the meetinghouse alongside Prophet. And just who is teaching Prophet and those other 50 students? Alexander M. and Kelvin M., both age 13. “We want to show acts of kindness to other people,” Kelvin says.

Three days a week the two youth teach basic piano lessons for free to all who come to learn. There has been an added benefit to the piano lessons. Several of the students introduced to the Church through piano lessons later studied the gospel and decided to be baptized.

Some years ago, as our youngest son, Clark, was approaching his 12th birthday, he and I were leaving the Church Administration Building when President Harold B. Lee greeted us. I mentioned to President Lee that Clark would soon be 12, whereupon President Lee asked him, “What happens to you, Clark, when you turn 12?” This was one of those times when a father prays that a son will be inspired to give a proper response. Without hesitation Clark said to President Lee, “I will be ordained a deacon.”

The answer was the one President Lee had sought. He then counseled our son, “Remember, it is a great blessing to hold the priesthood.”

There is one last scene I would call up for you from my journal. I read it as I wrote it in Nha Trang, Vietnam, in May 1967:
“There was a memorable meeting this morning, which began with a senior military chaplain of another church addressing us warmly as ‘My brothers in Christ.’ This touched me deeply.
“After [the meeting], I walked quietly down the passageway alongside the large room where we had met. As I passed the back door, I looked in and saw three men who had their hands on the head of another who sat on a chair. All four were dressed in battle gear; two had returned from air strikes just in time for the meeting, and one was shortly to go. The three members of the district presidency were giving a blessing to an officer senior to them all, setting him apart as a district missionary.”
This sweet scene affected me more deeply than any priesthood sermon I have heard. Priesthood to them meant the right and the power to serve, to act in the name of the Lord as his agents and in his interests with their fellowmen. This scene I hope I will never forget.

Tommy Ayres moved with his family to Arizona, hoping the climate would benefit his father’s health. Tommy was ten years old at the time. The family attended an Evangelical Church; and at one gathering, President L. Harold Wright of Maricopa Stake was invited to explain the beliefs of the Mormon Church. Tommy was interested but did nothing about it until his father’s ill health kept them from driving the several miles to church. Tommy started attending Scout meetings at the nearby Latter-day Saint Church. Then he was on his way. He and his mother were taught by the missionaries and were baptized. His father, in a nursing home, was later baptized by Tommy. Two elders helped Tommy with the baptism by wheeling his father to the edge of the font and gently lifting him into the water. One month later his father died. His temple work was done two years later from sheets carefully prepared by Tommy.

Tommy’s interest in genealogy began soon after his conversion. He has spent hours researching family records for his own direct lines. It was a sweet moment for him when his parents were sealed (someone standing proxy for his dead father), and a brother who had lived for only two days and Tommy were sealed to their parents. Tommy left shortly afterward for his mission. He is serving in the Montana-Wyoming Mission under President Wright, the man from whom he first heard about the gospel.

Wangu, of the Kibuyu tribe, liked the hot dust of the road squeezing up between his brown toes. The African plain around him was spotted with many colored flowers, showing against the yellow grasses waving in the gentle breeze. Nandi flame trees flashed in the glaring sunshine. Wangu felt happy. He was sure something good was going to happen to him. Already he had found his bwana’s (white-man boss’s) lost cow and now he could see the tops of the huts in his shamba (village).
Wangu turned to pull on the lead rope to make the cow walk faster, and then he saw the bicycle. It was in the ditch beside the road and almost covered with thorn bushes. Wangu jumped into the ditch and with his panga (machete-like knife) he chopped the thorn bushes away. Then he dragged the bicycle up to the road.
It was a very old bicycle. Both its wheels were dented and it had many broken spokes. Its chain was stiff with rust. Some bwana threw it away a long time ago, he thought, but it was a bicycle and to own a bicycle was something Wangu had dreamed about.
Wangu had trouble leading the cow and carrying the bicycle, but he struggled on. A little farther along the road he stepped off into the grass, walking toward his shamba. He heard the neighing of an unseen zebra and the roar of simba (lion) a long distance away. The sounds did not disturb Wangu because he was thinking deeply about his four sons. They were a year or two apart in age, starting at age nine. He thought how much each boy would like a bicycle.
When Wangu entered the village his oldest son was the first to greet him. “What will you do with the broken bicycle, Father?” he asked.
His other three sons quickly gathered around him as he answered. “I will make it whole again so that it will be useful.”
“It is a beautiful bicycle,” his nine-year-old son said wistfully.
“I will make it even more beautiful,” Wangu promised, putting the broken bicycle in his thingira, a special hut where his wife could not enter. Then he took the cow to its place among his employer’s cattle.
Wangu began work on the bicycle by taking it apart. For help in understanding how to do it and to borrow tools, he went to the nearby mission.
Each month Wangu took part of the shillingi (English money) his bwana paid him for the work he did, and walked the seven miles to the ducca (general store) and bought new parts for the bicycle.
Repairing the bicycle was slow work, but for Wangu it was a work of joy. As he worked, his thoughts kept wandering to the worth of his four sons. He thought of how proud he was of them and of how fine and helpful they were to him.
Just before he finished working on the bicycle, he decided that his sons deserved to have it. But he couldn’t give it to all of them. Wangu knew that if he did that, the bicycle would cause many quarrels. He must give it to just one boy. He wondered how he could do that without hurting the feelings of the others.
Wangu painted the bicycle red and yellow; and while he waited for the paint to dry, he tried hard to think of a way to give it to just one of his sons. The answer came to him the night before he would take the bicycle out of his thingira and show it to all the people in the village.
The next morning Wangu wheeled the sparkling, newly painted bicycle out onto the hard-packed dirt in the center of the circle of beehive-shaped huts made out of wattle and mud. The people came running from all directions, shouting words of praise for the bicycle. Wangu waited for quiet and until his sons stood in front of him. As he looked at them he thought of how well they cared for his sheep and goats.
“It is my wish to give this bicycle to one of my sons, and I have found a way to do it fairly,” Wangu announced. “The people at the mission have taught us to write our names and some of the white man’s words.” Then he spoke directly to his sons. “Go and get a calabash (clay bowl shaped like a gourd), four pieces of paper, and a pencil.”
The boys left in an excited rush. Wangu waited, beaming under the admiration of the people. He waited until he became impatient. It seemed that his sons were taking much too long. When they finally arrived on the run he frowned at them.
“You will each write your name on a piece of paper, fold it so the name cannot be seen, and drop it into the calabash,” he told them. “Then I will lift out a name and whoever owns the name owns the bicycle.”
When this was done Wangu took the calabash and shook it. He pulled a paper from it. Wangu was the name written on the paper.
“This is the wrong name,” he said gruffly.
With his fingers in the calabash he stirred the papers around. Then he quickly took another one and unfolded it slowly. Wangu was also written on that paper. In a fast movement he grabbed the remaining two papers in the calabash and on each one was written the name Wangu.
All his sons had wanted him to have the bicycle. Tears filled Wangu’s eyes and his heart seemed almost to burst with the great love he felt for his sons.

George Bond was so excited to receive the Aaronic Priesthood that he counted down the days until he turned 12. “I was really excited to become a deacon so I could pass the sacrament,” George says.
At last the Sunday arrived. He awoke early and got ready for the 9:00 a.m. sacrament meeting of the Arlington Ward, Jacksonville Florida East Stake.
“George was ready at 8:00. He had his white shirt and tie on. He was set to go well before any of us were,” his dad, Bill, remembers. “At sacrament meeting that day, I didn’t hold the tears back when I saw him up there passing the sacrament for the first time. When I thought that he was a part of our family and now also a holder of the priesthood, it was wonderful.” George, who is from Russia, was adopted by the Bonds on April 29, 2002.

The skills that I learned during my journey have helped me to build a health nongovernmental organization and work in mental health awareness in the DRC. My recent experience, when I was applying for a new job as a public health specialist at the Center for Disease Control in DRC, the human resources team was surprised that I have an American degree and I live in Congo, and it was easy for them to verify this from my diploma.
The hiring process was interesting and each step I went through, I learned to be ready due to the PathwayConnect program, preparing my CV and cover letter, enjoying the interview, and showing people my unique qualifications. I am grateful to my Heavenly Father for the opportunity He gave me to join the team of the Center for Disease Control in DRC to prevent, detect and control disease in my country.

I was privileged to have a small role in a marvelous example of this kind of love. When I was serving as President of the Pacific Islands Area, I received a call from President R. Wayne Shute. As a young man, he served a mission in Samoa. Later, he returned to Samoa as a mission president.8 When he telephoned me, he was the Apia Samoa Temple president. One of his young missionaries, when he was mission president, was Elder O. Vincent Haleck, who is now the Area President in the Pacific. President Shute had great love and respect for Vince and the entire Haleck family. Most of the family were members of the Church, but Vince’s father, Otto Haleck, the patriarch of the family (of German and Samoan descent), was not a member. President Shute knew I was attending a stake conference and other meetings in American Samoa, and he asked me if I would consider staying in Otto Haleck’s residence with the view of sharing the gospel with him.
My wife, Mary, and I stayed with Otto and his wife, Dorothy, in their beautiful home. At breakfast I shared a gospel message and invited Otto to meet with the missionaries. He was kind, but firm, in refusing my invitation. He said he was pleased that many members of his family were Latter-day Saints. But he forcefully indicated that some of his Samoan mother’s ancestors had been early Christian ministers in Samoa, and he felt a great allegiance to their traditional Christian faith.9 Nevertheless, we left as good friends.
Later, when President Gordon B. Hinckley was preparing to dedicate the Suva Fiji Temple, he had his personal secretary, Brother Don H. Staheli,10 call me in New Zealand to make arrangements. President Hinckley wanted to fly from Fiji to American Samoa to meet the Saints. A certain hotel used in a previous visit was suggested. I asked if I could make different arrangements. Brother Staheli said, “You are the Area President; that would be fine.”
I immediately called President Shute and told him that perhaps we had a second chance at spiritually blessing our friend Otto Haleck. This time the missionary would be President Gordon B. Hinckley. I asked if he thought it would be appropriate for the Halecks to host all of us in President Hinckley’s travel group.11 President and Sister Hinckley, their daughter Jane, and Elder and Sister Jeffrey R. Holland were also part of the travel group. President Shute, working with the family, made all the arrangements.12
When we arrived from Fiji after the temple dedication, we were warmly greeted.13 We spoke that evening to thousands of Samoan members and then proceeded to the Haleck family compound. When we gathered for breakfast the next morning, President Hinckley and Otto Haleck had already become good friends. It was interesting to me that they were having much the same conversation I had had with Otto more than a year earlier. When Otto expressed his admiration for our Church but reaffirmed his commitment to his existing church, President Hinckley put his hand on Otto’s shoulder and said, “Otto, that’s not good enough; you ought to be a member of the Church. This is the Lord’s Church.” You figuratively could see the resistive armor fall away from Otto with an openness to what President Hinckley said.
This was the beginning of additional missionary teaching and a spiritual humility that allowed Otto Haleck to be baptized and confirmed a little over a year later. One year after that, the Haleck family was sealed as an eternal family in the temple.14
What touched my heart throughout this incredible experience was the overwhelming ministering love exhibited by President Wayne Shute for his former missionary, Elder Vince Haleck, and his desire to see the entire Haleck family united as an eternal family.15

I just have to thank you for the New Era. It really brightens my day. Just recently I read one through from cover to cover and then lent it to a girl friend. She quickly devoured every word, and then I took it to my place of employment—the Jackson Hole Playhouse Theater—where it was passed around one evening. One of the guys in the cast “adopted” it, and I haven’t seen it since! I am an investigator of the Church, and I can’t express in words how much the New Era has helped me in my studies. In fact, you may wish to know that I plan to be baptized.
Cindy ShufeldtJackson, Wyoming

In early Utah pioneer times, my great-grandfather Thomas Rasband and his family were some of the first settlers to enter the Heber Valley in the beautiful Wasatch Mountains of Utah.
In 1859, Thomas helped construct the Heber fort, built for their protection. It was a simple structure of cottonwood logs positioned one next to the other, forming the perimeter of the fort. Log cabins were built inside the fortress using that common wall. The structure provided both security and safety for those pioneer families as they put down roots and worshipped the Lord.
Fort Heber (like Fort Clatsop pictured here) was a place of refuge for early pioneers.
Your testimony of Jesus Christ is your personal fortress, the security for your soul. When my great-grandfather and his fellow pioneers built the Heber fort, they put up one log at a time until the fort was “fitly framed together”28 and they were protected. So it is with testimony. One by one we gain a witness from the Holy Spirit as He speaks to our own spirit, teaching “truth in the inward parts.”29 When we live the gospel of Jesus Christ, when we draw upon the Savior’s Atonement and press forward with faith, not fear, we are fortified against the wiles of the adversary. Our testimonies connect us to the heavens, and we are blessed with “the truth of all things.”30 And, like pioneers protected by a fortress, we are safely encircled in the arms of the Savior’s love.

It’s tough making the right choices when you’re 15 years old. But when your decisions affect the lives of hundreds of thousands of people, the pressure gets a little greater. That was the situation facing Amy Arreátegui Pozo when she was selected from 123 students to be the mayor of Trujillo, Peru, the third largest city in the country. Mayor for a day, that is.
When Amy was a Mia Maid in the Mousserat Ward, Trujillo Perú Laureles Stake, she attended a secondary school called the Academy of Engineering. “One of my goals,” says Amy, “was to become the student mayor [like a student-body president] from this school, and I did. That was my dream. My next goal was to win the ‘Mayor for a Day’ contest, and here I am. I finally made it. What helped me win was my confidence in myself.”
Of course, showing that she had a lot of great ideas about improving schools and neighborhoods in the city also helped. Coming up with these ideas for the contest was a lot of work, but deciding which ones to include was pretty easy. To decide, Amy used a method she’s come to depend on—a method that has given her the confidence she talks about. It’s the process of asking and receiving answers through prayer.
“Always go to Heavenly Father when you’re making a decision, and you will always make the right choice,” Amy says. That’s one reason she could handle the responsibility so well when the city of Trujillo issued the resolution recognizing her as “mayor for a day.” The city council acted to accept her activities during her 24 hours as mayor. All contracts, decisions, and authorizations would be legally binding.
Amy arrived at the city hall at 7:30 a.m., even before Mayor José Murgia Zannier, Trujillo’s mayor for more than 10 years. After being officially installed in her post, she met with Mayor Murgia to go over the day’s schedule and coordinate some details. Thus began her busy day as mayor.
In the mayor’s official vehicle, Amy made a visit to inspect a park where the city plans to build a sports and recreation center. She then visited a public school, where she met with the principal and surveyed the progress on the construction of two classrooms.
Back at city hall, Amy met with an official from the public defenders office and with the director of the San José Children’s Home. Amy quickly decided to send a group of workers to the children’s home to make some needed repairs. She also received visits from several other schools seeking funding.
At a press conference, Amy launched her teen leadership program, titled “A Challenge for the Future.” Since her program started, teen leaders from more than 100 schools in the city have met monthly with government officials to discuss the needs of education.
Then Amy presided over the city council meeting, opening the session and calling roll. She also planted a tree at the opening of a newly renovated city park and listened to the requests of neighbors living in the area. That evening, she attended a cultural event in one of the town plazas.
It was a busy day for Amy, a young woman one of the local newspapers described as “outstanding in intellect, sobriety, eloquence, and leadership abilities, but most of all in her great goals and objectives.”
The experience Amy had while serving as mayor for a day opened her eyes to the many needs within her community. One of those needs—education—was already a primary focus of Amy’s plans and programs. But Amy realizes that while school is important, there are other aspects of our lives that should take precedence over a secular education.
“I feel that here in Trujillo, which is considered the culture capital of Peru, many put the Church aside and put more focus on their studies,” Amy says. “There are many youth within the Church who don’t go on missions so they can continue with their schooling at the university or who stop going to institute classes and Church meetings.”
So while Amy studies hard in school and plans to become a psychologist, she also works hard in her calling as a Sunday School teacher and on her personal spiritual progression. She understands that there is a time for everything: a time for study, a time for church, and a time for friends, family, and fun.
It’s a question of perspective and priority. Amy explains: “The prophet wants the youth to get as much schooling as possible, and the Lord will always prepare the way for us to do it, so we don’t have to leave the Church to do something that is secular. Even though it’s important to get an education, it’s more important to do what our Heavenly Father commands.”
The youth in Peru face many of the same challenges youth face all over the world. The temptations to follow the ways of the world call loudly: pornography, immorality, and dishonesty.
“Fashion and all the trends like music are also a problem because most of us are surrounded by nonmembers, so at times it’s easy to be led by our peers and not our principles,” Amy says. She warns that we should not give in to pressure from those who would have us relax our standards. “Another problem,” she says, “is that when a young person joins the Church, he or she sometimes loses friends.”
Amy feels blessed that she has found friends and strength among her family, ward members, and fellow seminary students. They have been there to support and encourage her to follow the Lord.
Now that Amy has had a taste of what it’s like to be mayor of Trujillo, what are her plans for the future? “I will start out as a student mayor,” Amy explains, “and then perhaps become mayor of a local unit, and then mayor of a district, and then become the first woman president of Peru.”
Amy says that many young people lack the confidence to set goals and reach them because they don’t understand why they’re here on earth and what they should do in their lives. By building her life around the gospel, Amy has gained the confidence to succeed in whatever she righteously desires.
“I’ve grown closer to my Heavenly Father by praying and asking for His confirmation in whatever decision I have to make,” she says. “It is very special for me to feel His Spirit and know He approves of my choices. By having His approval, I feel that things will always, always turn out well.”