Gospel Story Finder

Renee Holloway, a member of the Bonifay Ward, Panama City Florida Stake, is a goal setter.
At the beginning of her senior year she set several goals that helped her throughout the year. She decided she would read her scriptures every night and devote time to seminary study. She also achieved a goal to complete her Young Womanhood Recognition.
Renee received an award as the outstanding senior band member at her high school. She also received an award for being the most outstanding senior in her graduating class, an accomplishment she believes she couldn’t have achieved without setting goals. Renee said she was often inspired by the many faithful Latter-day Saint teenagers she read about in the New Era.

One thing that I learnt from my mission experience is, “one’s life cannot be both faith-filled and stress-free.”2 During my mission I was so happy to have so many families who love me. On the other hand, I was getting weak as I had health issues which affected me a lot. I was expecting the Lord to give me a stress-free and faith-filled life.
Elder Neal A. Maxwell said, “How can you and I really expect to glide naively through life, as if to say, ‘Lord give me experience, but not grief, not sorrow, not pain, not opposition, not betrayal, and certainly not to be forsaken. Keep from me, Lord, all those experiences which made Thee what Thou art!’”3
When I read this quote, I felt peace in my heart even when I’m suffering physically. It has given me a strong assurance that if we want to be Christ’s disciple, we need to go through challenges as He did. Challenges can appear to be things we can’t bear.
It was a great challenge for me to get a mission call, to serve, for only 14 months, not 18 months which made me sad. But through God’s grace I can still feel the peace and happiness.
Sometimes we choose good and expect God to bless us in a way we want. But a true disciple of Christ needs to accept the God’s will rather than our desires.
I know that as we serve Him in the time given to us, whether it’s 18 months or 2 years, with all our heart, might, mind and strength, we will be blessed according to His will and His timing. I know that Jesus is the Christ and He atoned for us. I know he loves us unconditionally. And all he asks us to do is to keep His commandments.

Now to the present for an interview I had with a handsome zone leader in the Brazil São Paulo Interlagos Mission. I said to the missionary, “Tell me about your family.” He then relayed the following. He was born into a wealthy family. His father had a responsible position in a multinational corporation. They moved from Brazil to Venezuela. He was one of seven children, all members of the Church.

When the missionary was fifteen years old, his father was shot and killed by a fleeing thief. In a family council it was decided to return to Brazil and invest their savings in the purchase of a small home. A year and a half later, the mother informed the children that she had been diagnosed with cancer. The family used valuable savings to help pay the medical expenses—but to no avail. Six months later the mother passed away, leaving the young family alone.

Our young missionary, Elder Bugs (pronounced Boogs), now sixteen years old, went to work, first selling clothing, then later computer supplies. He used his hard-earned money to support the young family. He said, “We were always blessed to have enough to eat. I would work during the day, then help the children with their studies at night. I especially miss my little sister. I taught her to read.”

Elder Bugs continued, “Then the bishop invited me to come in for an interview. He called me on a mission. I told him I would need to speak with my family first. In our family council, they reminded me that Dad had always taught us that we should be prepared to serve the Lord as full-time missionaries. I accepted the call. When I received my letter from the prophet, I withdrew all my savings. I bought a new suit, a pair of pants, white shirts and ties, and a new pair of shoes. I gave the rest of the money to the bishop (enough for about four months of support for the family). I hugged my little family and left for my mission.”

I looked at that brave young man and I said, “But Elder, with you away, who is taking care of your family?”
“Oh,” he said, “my brother is sixteen. He is the same age I was when our mother died. He is taking care of the family now.”

I had an opportunity recently to talk by telephone with Elder Bugs. He has been home from his mission for six months now. When I asked him how he was doing, he said, “I have a good job again and I am caring for the family, but oh, how I miss my mission. It was the greatest thing I have ever done. I am now helping my younger brother prepare for his mission.”

One Sunday morning in early spring, nine-year-old Emily sat with her family in sacrament meeting. The bishop looked sad as he got up to make the announcements.
“The Schwartz family found out this week that Brother Schwartz has cancer,” the bishop said.
Emily saw that both her parents had tears in their eyes. Emily knew that cancer was a serious illness. She was sad for the Schwartz family too.
After church Emily was reading in the living room when she heard her parents talking about Brother Schwartz’s illness.
“He’s so young,” Mom said.
“I know.” Dad spoke softly. “His medicine and treatment will cost a lot of money. I wish there was something we could do to help.”
Emily looked out the window. The spring rains had made the neighborhood beautiful and green. The grass and flowers were growing fast. Seeing the yards all along the street gave Emily an idea. She ran to the kitchen to tell her parents.
“I want to help Brother Schwartz!” Emily said with a smile.
“What do you want to do, honey?” Mom asked.
Emily pointed out the window. “I want to mow our neighbors’ lawns and give the money to the Schwartzes.”
Dad smiled. “That’s a great idea, Em.”
That week Emily talked to lots of neighbors about mowing their lawns. By Saturday she had a full day of grass cutting lined up.
On Saturday, Emily pushed the mower up and down the yards in her neighborhood. All day. As she mowed, her arms and legs seemed to get heavier and heavier. But she was determined to keep going. She wanted to finish all the lawns.
It’s for Brother Schwartz, she kept telling herself. Her arms were sore from pushing, and her legs were tired and wobbly. But she kept mowing—only a few more lawns to go.
It was time for dinner when Emily finally finished. She walked home slowly. I’ve never been so tired in my whole life! she thought.
After dinner Emily walked to Brother Schwartz’s house. She was excited as she rang the doorbell.
Sister Schwartz opened the door.
“Hi, Sister Schwartz,” Emily said. “I mowed a bunch of lawns in the neighborhood and wanted to give you the money to help your family.”
Emily handed an envelope stuffed with money to Sister Schwartz.
Sister Schwartz started to cry. “Thank you, Emily,” she said.
“You’re welcome! I hope Brother Schwartz gets better.” Emily turned with a big smile and headed home.
She was tired from her hard work, but she felt warm and happy because she knew that Heavenly Father and Jesus are happy when we help others. And now she just couldn’t stop grinning.

A few days before last Christmas a terrible tragedy occurred at one of the large coal mines in central Utah. Twenty-seven miners lost their lives when fire engulfed the long underground slopes and shafts. Many of these were young men with young wives and young children. The hearts of thousands over the world were touched by the suffering of loved ones left behind.
I met many of these. I spoke with them. I joined with them in a memorial service. There were tears, with much of weeping. There was an overwhelming feeling of loneliness as widows, with children to feed and clothe and educate, looked into the bleakness of the future. Our tears flowed with theirs. But shining through all of this was a faith transcendent that, as surely as there had been mortal death, there will be immortal life; and as certainly as there had been separation, there will be reunion. This is the faith which comes of Christ, who brought to all the promise of immortality.

During this time I met Kelly, who would become my wife. When I met her, my depression lifted and I was able to see myself as a child of God. Kelly was not a member of the Church when we started dating. We were eventually married, and after some time I baptized her. It was a special and sacred moment for me.
After our first child, Rafael, was born, we brought him to church to receive a blessing. My parents attended the blessing. It was the first time they ever went to church. From then on they started to hear the missionary lessons in their home. I eventually had the privilege to baptize my brothers and my parents.
It is funny because my father was very systematic about it. He said, “My son, when are you going to baptize me?” When he was baptized, I raised him out of the water and he hugged me. It was such an extraordinary moment in my life!

How Magrina Sam Aiten came to be endowed in the Manila Philippines Temple illustrates the distances, both physical and cultural, Micronesians often cross when coming to the Lord. While living in Chuuk (or Truk), she was visited by the missionaries. When she asked them a question about Joseph Smith, “their answer touched my heart, and I asked them to give me the discussions.”

Reading the Book of Mormon gave her a testimony of the gospel, but her testimony alienated her from her husband. He resented the missionaries’ visits. When the elders taught Magrina about fasting, she decided that her first fast would be for her husband. “I felt the Spirit, and my husband’s heart was softened.” He allowed the missionaries to continue meeting with Magrina and the children. “After one month, he joined us,” Magrina says. “In January 1986, I, my husband, and our oldest child were baptized.”

Her mother also felt unhappy about her association with the Church. “My Mom didn’t want me to join and said that if I did I wouldn’t be her daughter anymore.” In a society that values family relationships more than personal preferences, that was a difficult thing to hear. “But I told my kids to pray for Mom.” After three months, her mother came to Magrina’s home and stayed the weekend.

On Monday, the family had family home evening. “Mom was really quiet,” Magrina says. “My daughter gave the closing prayer, and after we finished, all the kids hugged her and kissed her. She had tears in her eyes, and she said, ‘Maybe this is a good way to raise your kids. They are sure different from you when you were little.’ I said that’s right; I didn’t know how to pray. But my children know how to conduct themselves.”

Not long after that, Magrina moved to Saipan, some 1,300 kilometers away. Saipan is something of a melting pot. A large island (23-by-8 kilometers) in the northern Marianas, it serves as home—and home away from home—for people from all over the Pacific and from as far away as the United States and Europe. The Japanese have made it a popular tourist destination, and Filipinos and Koreans come to work in its textile factories. Islanders from other parts of Micronesia have found it attractive as a place where the life-style is halfway between Micronesian traditional and Western contemporary.

On Saipan, Magrina met Jim and Julie Ellis, mainland Americans living on the island. Jim was her home teacher, Julie her visiting teacher. In 1992, Jim encouraged Magrina to go to the temple. She wanted to go, but by then her husband had died and she had remarried. Her nonmember husband refused to let her go. Eventually, their disagreements led them to separate.

The day before she was to fly to Manila, her husband returned. “When he walked in the door and saw my face, he knew that I hadn’t changed my mind. I loved him, but I also loved my kids and wanted the best for them.” He consented to her trip—and even agreed to stop smoking and drinking in the house.

“So I went to the temple, and Sister Ellis went with me. I really felt the Spirit. Everything touched my heart.” While there, she had the temple work done for her first husband.

The book of Proverbs praises the woman of virtue as more precious than rubies. “Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come. …

“Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her. …

“A woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised” (Prov. 31:25, 28, 30).

In Micronesia, there are many women worthy of such praise.

Eleven-year-old Ted was excited. Today he and Benjamin, his 14-year-old brother, were going to take their dad’s fishing boat out on the ocean all by themselves.
Father worked as a fisherman, catching cod, haddock, halibut, and Dover sole. Every morning he took the family’s small wooden boat and rowed into the ocean near their home on the coast of England. When he returned, Mother would take the fish to Chester Market and sell them.
But today was different. Ted’s parents needed to take the family’s horse and wagon into town to get supplies, and Ted had volunteered to do the fishing while their parents were gone.
“Remember, stay close to the shore,” Mother said as Ted and Benjamin began to row the little boat out into the ocean. “Always stay close enough that you can see our house. We should be home about the same time you get finished.”
“And be careful with the nets,” Father added. “Don’t lose them.”
Ted knew how important the nets were. Without the nets, his family wouldn’t be able to catch any fish. And then they wouldn’t have any money to buy food and clothes. All the money the family had came from selling the fresh fish in the market.
After Benjamin rowed the boat a little way from the shore, Ted helped his brother put glass floats on the nets and throw them overboard. After waiting for a while, Ted and Benjamin used all their strength to pull the nets back into the boat. They removed the fish one by one until finally they had gathered and stacked all the cod, halibut, and other fish.
“Could you start pulling up the anchor rope?” Benjamin asked Ted. “Then we’ll go back to shore.”
Ted pulled up on the rope until he could see the anchor in the water below him. As he lifted the heavy anchor, his wet hands slipped. The anchor skidded off the side of the boat and back into the water, dragging all three tangled nets overboard. The weight of the anchor overcame the floats, and the nets began to sink.
Ted stuck out his hand to grab the nets, but Benjamin pushed his hand away. “Don’t! You’ll be pulled overboard by the weight of the anchor!”
Ted watched the three nets and the anchor disappear beneath the dark ocean water. There was nothing he could do to stop them.
When the anchor reached the end of the rope, Ted and Benjamin began pulling the rope back into the boat. But when the anchor finally came back to the surface, the nets were gone.
“Maybe they floated up somewhere else,” Benjamin said hopefully. But Ted couldn’t see the nets anywhere. He said a silent prayer that Heavenly Father would help them find the nets.
They rowed around looking. But no matter how far they rowed, they couldn’t find the nets. After a little while they saw their parents waiting for them on the shore. Ted knew Mother and Father would be worried because they had been out with the boat longer than usual.
When they got to shore, Ted saw the worried look on Mother’s face and began to cry.
“What’s wrong?” Mother asked.
“We lost all the nets,” Benjamin said. His voice was quiet. He told his parents what had happened.
While Benjamin and Ted loaded the fish onto a cart for Mother to take to market, Dad took the boat out to look for the nets. But a storm was coming and the sky was turning black. As the ocean became choppy, Father returned. He had not been able to find the nets.
That night Ted heard Mother and Father talking.
“We don’t have enough money to buy even one new net,” Mother said.
During family prayer, Father prayed for a special blessing: “Please help us find our lost nets.”
The next morning the whole family searched along the beach.
Then when the tide went out, Ted and Benjamin went with Father in the rowboat. They spent the whole morning looking for the nets, but they didn’t find anything. Ted could tell that Father was starting to lose hope.
Just then, Ted thought he saw something glimmering in the water near the horizon. It could be another spot of sea foam or floating seaweed.
Or it might be the nets.
“Let’s row over there,” Ted said, pointing to the glimmer. “It looks like there is something floating.”
“I see something too,” Benjamin said.
As the boat got closer, Ted saw green seaweed leaves. His heart sank. But then, mixed in with the shiny leaves, he saw a glass float.
“It’s one of the floats!” he cried out. “I think the nets are there too!”
As Father pulled the boat alongside the float, Benjamin and Ted pulled the heavy, wet nets into the boat. All three nets were there. And they were full of cod, haddock, halibut, and Dover sole!
They had so many fish that some were spilling over the sides and back into the ocean. There was not enough room for all the fish.
“If we hurry, we can still get these fish to Chester Market,” Father said. But before they rowed the boat to shore, they stopped to say a prayer. They thanked Heavenly Father for helping them find all three of the nets and enough fish to fill the boat.

Maria had been less active for more than 20 years. A few months ago, we spent a couple of hours with her in our home, exploring her family through census and other records. At one point she burst into tears exclaiming, “I’ve learned more about my family in two hours than I’ve known in my whole life!”
At the end of our time together, we introduced to her the Relatives Around Me feature of the FamilyTree app. It turned out that my husband and I both are distantly related to Maria. She burst into tears again, saying she had thought she was alone. She never knew she had family in the area. A few weeks later Maria met with our bishop. She is now working on preparing for the temple, and she has met many “new” cousins in our ward!
Carol Riner Everett, North Carolina, USA

When I was a little girl our Primary put on an annual "Life of Christ" pageant. Twelve boys played apostles, but there weren't many roles for girls. One year I played Pontius Pilate's wife. Loaded with costume jewelry, a diamond dangling on my forehead, I ran on stage to plead for a prisoner because of a dream.[2]
The role I wanted least but remember best was a Foolish Virgin. We were given wooden lamps, but only five lamps had a yellow flame. I remember being teased by my oldest, tallest, brother-who also played the role of Christ-about being one of the foolish five. In our scene the 10 virgins gathered at the back of the stage, and when "the bridegroom came"[3] a big crowd surrounded Jesus and walked across the stage, "and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage". The five wise virgins joined the celebration and exited with the crowd of disciples and a loud bang signaled "the door was shut".
One performance is a powerful memory. When the door slammed and the lights went out, and the five foolish virgins were left alone on a darkened stage, it wasn't my playful older brother, in a glued on beard and white robe, behind a closed door. It was Jesus, and my child's heart ached to join him. I did not want to be alone in the black, shut out because I was not prepared, was not worthy. I yearned to be a disciple and follow Him.
Since that defining moment as a Primary child, when I stood on a dark stage holding an empty lamp, additional experiences have fortified my desire to stay on the path.

Consider Girish Ghimire, who was born and raised in the country of Nepal. As a teenager, he studied in China, where a classmate introduced him to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Eventually, Girish came to Brigham Young University for graduate work and met his future wife. They settled in the Salt Lake Valley and adopted two children from Nepal.
Years later, when more than 1,500 refugees from camps in Nepal were relocated to Utah, Girish felt inspired to help. With native-language fluency and cultural understanding, Girish served as an interpreter, teacher, and mentor. After resettling in the community, some of the Nepali refugees demonstrated interest in the gospel. A Nepali-speaking branch was organized, and Girish later served as its branch president. He was also instrumental in translating the Book of Mormon into Nepali.
Can you see how Heavenly Father prepared and is using Girish?

Celeste hopped into the van and scrunched down so that no one outside it could see her. Tears flooded down her freckled cheeks and splashed on her jumper like a monsoon thunderstorm breaking loose.
“It isn’t fair,” she muttered. She pulled a crumpled tissue out of her pocket and wiped her hazel eyes. “Why doesn’t Eli pick on someone else, for a change?”
“Hey, look who’s talking to herself!” said Peter, her older brother. “Celeste is having a celestial chat!” He started to laugh, then noticed her tear-stained face. “Aw, Celeste, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything. What’s wrong?”
“What did you do?” Jimmy, her younger brother, asked Peter. Celeste turned away and stared silently out the window.
Mom gave the boys a meaningful look and said, “Please remember, Sunday is supposed to be a peaceful day of rest, a day free from the cares of the world and,” she added pointedly, “from the teasing of brothers.”
Celeste looked guiltily at Peter and Jimmy. Normally they deserved a lecture like this, but today wasn’t really their fault. It was Elijah Smith’s. The only time Eli had been decent to her was the week Sister Newman had given a lesson on “love your enemies.”
Later, in her room, while Mom sat quietly beside her, the day’s tragic events spilled out.
It had begun when Celeste enthusiastically answered two tough questions in her Valiant B class. Sister Newman had complimented her. “Good job, Celeste! I can always count on you.”
Celeste had flushed with happiness until Eli whispered loudly, “Miss Goody-goody Two Shoes knows all the answers.” The other children had snickered.
Later Eli bumped into her, then flopped on the floor, groaning, “Oh no! I’ve touched Miss Righteous. Help—I’m going to be translated!”
Even Celeste’s best friend, Mary, had laughed.
“Mom,” she asked now, “how could anyone name a boy like that after a great prophet?”
“Two prophets, if you count his last name,” replied Mom. “Don’t let him get to you, Celeste. Eli may not know about Elijah or Joseph Smith. He and his dad just started coming back to church this year. Besides,” Mom encouraged her with a big hug, “you know how to handle teasing. That’s one advantage of having two brothers, right?”
Celeste smiled, then broke into laughter when Mom winked at her, tiptoed to the bedroom door, opened it quickly, and Peter and James tumbled in.
“Eavesdropping, guys?” Mom asked sweetly. They grinned.
The next Sunday, things went from bad to rotten. In class, Eli brushed past her chair and snorted, “Teacher’s pet.” Celeste pasted on a smile and looked right through him.
The real bombshell hit when Sister Newman announced, “Class, we are going to have a prophet-mastery contest like the seminary youth do with scriptures! I’ll divide you into teams of two, and you can study together.
“Mary, you team up with Charles. Celeste, you’re partners with Eli.”
It was hard to tell whose jaw dropped first. Both Celeste and Eli looked like goldfish gasping on dry land.
“Please meet with your partner this week,” said Sister Newman, handing out a list of some prophets.
“Mom,” moaned Celeste during lunch, “how can I work with someone who doesn’t even like me?”
“I could ask Sister Virden to transfer him to my Blazer class,” Peter volunteered.
“No—to my class!” Jimmy clamored. “Sister Florio doesn’t let anyone get away with what she calls shenanigans.”
“See, honey,” Mom told her, “even though they tease you a lot, your brothers are telling you that they love you.”
Celeste sighed. “I guess that leaves me with ‘love my enemy.’”
At school, Eli and Celeste avoided each other all week. Finally, Saturday morning, Celeste called him. To her surprise, Eli agreed to come right over.
“We can’t show up tomorrow and look like dummies,” he explained. “That’s the only reason I’m here.”
They studied for two hours before Mom brought in some almond brownies.
“Food!” shouted Eli.
While he ate two in quick succession, Celeste said shyly, “You know, there is another prophet I think you’d really like. He’s in the Old Testament.”
“Oh, yeah?” Eli mumbled.
“His name was Elijah, like yours.” Eli stopped chewing as she continued. “He was one of the great prophets—in fact, another Old Testament prophet spoke of him, and Jesus told the people in the Book of Mormon about it. Elijah performed many miracles in the Lord’s name, like when he called fire down from heaven and burned up a sacrifice and an altar too.”
“Cool!”
Celeste rushed on, “He sealed up the heavens for three and a half years so it wouldn’t rain. During the famine the drought caused, he blessed a widow’s flour and oil so that she would always have food. And later he even raised her son from the dead. And he did all these things to help people turn to the Lord and to be good.”
“Wow! How do you know all this great stuff?”
Ducking her head modestly, she answered, “Oh, our family reads scriptures together. I do some on my own too.”
Before Eli left, she gave him a piece of paper with “1 Kings 17” [1 Kgs. 17] and “2 Kings 2” [2 Kgs. 2] written on it so that he could read more about Elijah.
The next day, when Eli came into Primary, he whispered, “Celeste, how come you didn’t tell me Elijah was taken up to heaven in a chariot of fire, pulled by flaming horses? He really was a great prophet of the Lord. I’m proud to have his name—and my last name’s the same as the Prophet Joseph’s!”
Mary and Charles won the prophet-mastery game, but Celeste and Eli were just one point behind. When Sister Newman asked the triple bonus question: “Name two prophets who appeared to Joseph Smith in the Kirtland Temple,” Eli surprised everyone by waving his hand.
“Moses and Elijah,” he said proudly. “That’s from Doctrine and Covenants section 110 [D&C 110]. My dad showed me.”
“Wonderful!” said an amazed Sister Newman.
“Better watch it, Eli,” teased Celeste as they filed out of class, “if you get too good, a fiery chariot with your name on it might show up.”
Eli laughed and said, “Know what, Celeste? If it did, I’d let you come too.”

As I began my shift and started waiting tables, one of my favorite residents, Stan (not his real name), entered the dining room. I work in an assisted-living center and had spent many hours visiting with this wonderful man. He is an accomplished author and former professor who had served as a mission president, stake patriarch, and temple sealer.
I hoped that as I spent time with him, some of his spirituality and pleasant personality would rub off on me. I was consistently impressed by his humility and faithful desire to serve others. His wife of 63 years had recently passed away, and though he was surely grieving, he was able to find joy as he sought ways to make others feel loved and comfortable.
With the COVID-19 epidemic raging, 2020 had been especially tough for our assisted-living community. But the advent of the Christmas season brought renewed hope for the future.
That evening, Stan sat with another man at the table I was serving. As that man finished his meal, he asked me for some snacks to take back to his room. I went for the snacks, but unfortunately, we were out of what he wanted. When I returned to his table and told him, he was disappointed. I offered substitute snacks, but he politely declined.
Stan, having heard our conversation, rose from his seat. With his walker, he slowly made his way down the hall. He returned a few minutes later with some of his own favorite snacks—chocolate-covered cashews. He offered them to the man, thanked him for his company, and returned to his room.
As I thought about my friend facing the loss of his wife and our community dealing with a COVID-19 quarantine, the Savior’s words hit me. He said, “Whosoever will save his life shall lose it; but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the gospel’s, the same shall save it” (Mark 8:35).
Stan found joy as he continued to serve. I remember thinking, “Truly, this is a man of God.”
I will always remember the impact this experience had on me. It helped me set a lifelong goal to become a committed disciple of Jesus Christ, like Stan. He showed me that true joy is found in the continuous giving of small things, like Christmas cashews.

This is the true story of "The Back and Forth Cow" as told by Lynn C. Jaynes in the January, 1994 Ensign:
Several years ago my sister, Jane and I inherited a wringer-type mop bucket. We were next-door neighbors, so sharing the bucket was a simple matter of organizing our cleaning days. Although we both had young families, lived on farms, and had large linoleum floors that needed frequent mopping, we didn't have any problems getting the bucket back and forth. She knew where I stored the bucket and I knew where she stored it, so we just helped ourselves on mop day.
Jane and I shared other things, too. I borrowed her bread pans on baking day, and she borrowed the pressure cooker during canning season. We planted gardens side by side and raised chickens in the same pen. We used each other's lawn mowers and fed each other's children. She taught my children piano lessons. When her three-year-old daughter "ran away" to my house, I assigned the little girl some work that was harder than usual - and she was soon ready to go back home.
We cried when changes in our husbands' employment separated us. Tearfully, we divvied up our wares. I knew I would miss her greatly.
About a year later, we were thrilled to be neighbors again. By that time, she had a pressure cooker and I had bought my own bread pans. I got to keep the mop bucket because Jane's new house was mostly carpeted. That's when we bought the five hundred-dollar milk cow.
I don't even recall now who bought the cow first. But our arrangement was for one family to milk her in the mornings and the other family to take care of her at night. The cow gave enough milk to supply both families, and we raised calves besides.
Through the years, both families occasionally had financial struggles. I remember a time when taxes came due for my sister's family. They were short about five hundred dollars. At that time, they owned the cow. So we bought the cow from them, and they were able to pay their taxes. Meanwhile, they still milked mornings, we still milked evenings, and nothing really changed.
Then one day we needed funds to pay medical bills. My sister and her husband bought back the cow.
I guess we've lost track now of how many times the cow has been bought and sold, but during these ownership shuffles, the cow has never even changed pastures or had her milking routine interrupted. As far as I could see, there was never any real advantage to ownership. Sometimes we had to concentrate to even figure out who the current owner was.
And Jane seemed to agree. One day as ownership was changing hands again, she remarked, "This is silly that we pass this cow back and forth and declare 'ownership' as if it really meant something. We ought to just give each other the money whenever it's needed." We laughed about it and dubbed the animal our consecration cow.
Awhile back the pump on our well broke. A new one was going to cost a fair bit, and my husband and I were trying to decide how to pay for it when the phone rang. It was my sister.
"I can't believe your pump went out! Listen, do you need us to buy the cow?"
I smiled. It didn't even matter that they already owned her.

I love Emmanuel and Adiza Nelson. They are from Ghana. I respect them and want to share a part of their life story with you. They decided long ago to exercise faith in Christ consistently and constantly. That decision has changed their lives. With their permission, I will share some of their history. It is written in their words, with a little of my editing.
After joining the Church as a young married couple, they say: “We felt a sense of belonging. The members helped us modify our lives through the teachings and knew we were in the right place. We attended church regularly, learnt about the principles and commandments so we could govern ourselves.”
They learned as new members about the Word of Wisdom. Brother Nelson worked at a tobacco factory, but that seemed inconsistent with the Word of Wisdom. So, they together decided that he would quit: “He resigned his job without any employment in sight.” This decision brought them many financial challenges. Sister Nelson had a “scanty salary as a staff nurse midwife” at the time and Brother Nelson “tried many odd jobs to help sustain the family.” Sister Nelson also “did a lot of petty trading such as selling fresh fish, sugar, roasted groundnut and peanut butter after work from house to house in effort to sustain the family ... We became very industrious. We learnt a lot of things that could help sustain the family.”
During this challenging time, Brother Nelson “assisted in most of the house chores like washing, cleaning, ironing, cooking, baking and even taking care of our son while [Sister Nelson was] at work in the hospital. He wrote to many companies for employment, but he never succeeded.”
The Nelsons exercised their faith in Christ constantly and consistently. In their words: “Even though we were financially hard-pressed to take care of our children and those of our relatives, we NEVER missed paying a full tithe on our increase and did not deliberately miss church. There were times he had to walk to church on Sundays and walked to church for other activities far from our home so we could enjoy the full blessings. In the midst of these challenges, other relatives brought their children to live with us so we could train them in the way of the Lord. We were not financially sound, but we took them in. We worshipped and struggled together with them. These challenges drew us closer to the Savior, and our salvation. He never left us alone or uncomforted.”
They had more children of their own and changed how they behaved as parents in raising their children. They “tried to follow the admonitions of the leaders. We stopped flogging them and rather used the word of God to teach and counsel even though at times we were pushed to the wall. This brought a bond of unity amongst them. They still seek each other’s welfare till now.”
Even with their steady obedience to the Lord, the Nelsons had difficult trials: “In 1996, we had an unforgettable experience. We had run out of food and were thinking of how to feed the children when they came back from school. I left for work that morning a bit worried. Emmanuel shared that when the children came back from school and my younger sister asked what could be prepared for supper. Knowing very well that there was no food, he asked her to go and make fire. Minutes later she came and told him that the fire was ready. Emmanuel asked her to go look for a medium-sized saucepan and fill it halfway with water and set it on the fire. She came later and reported that the water was boiling.”
Not knowing what more to do, Brother Nelson “then entered a room, shut the door and cried unto the Lord to rescue the family for the sake of the children. Just after he ended the prayer, he heard a knock on our main gate. As he came out, he saw someone with a headload and instructed the children to go see who was there. To his surprise, it was his mother-in-law who had travelled all the way from Ada to play a visit. The load was actually food stuff and she even had to leave some at the roadside of which the children later went for. We had enough to eat that day, and we have never run out of food since then.”
After 11 years of not having a steady job, Brother Nelson was offered a wonderful position and was able to provide for his family. Through consistently and constantly exercising faith in Christ unto repentance and consistent obedience to the commandments, the Nelsons became able to provide temporally for their family. More importantly, they provided spiritual strength and faith to their children. Their children observed these blessings and experiences and today are strong and stalwart in their faith, like their parents. The Nelsons have continued to exercise their faith in the Lord and today they lead the Nigeria Uyo Mission as mission president and companion, blessing their missionaries and all the people they teach.

I’m Dallin. I love singing, acting, playing instruments, and doing basically anything outdoors. My teacher asked me to join her choir. I told her I would but I would not perform on Sunday. She said she had other Mormons in her choir, so she never had performances on Sunday. I was so happy that there were others before me who stood up for their standards. I know Heavenly Father will provide a way for you to be happy and keep your standards.
Dallin P., Arizona, USA

When I was a little boy, like many of you, my parents arranged for me to have the opportunity to take piano lessons. It was an opportunity I did not wish to have. I felt, in that period of my life, to do so would be a great impingement on my freedom. I did not want to practice. I did not want to take the lessons. And I suppose I was not a very good boy. I fussed about it so much that finally my parents relented, and I did not take piano lessons. I felt liberated. I felt victorious. I felt that I had asserted my agency and my independence.

I did not think a lot more about it until one day many years later when I, as a man, sat in a stake priesthood meeting. On this particular occasion, a woman had been invited to sing a special musical number to the priesthood. She was a lovely lady and had a very beautiful voice. She presented herself in the meeting at the appropriate time. But as she came to the front of the chapel, it was clear that her accompanist had not arrived. She, not becoming frustrated, simply looked around. As she did so, she identified in the very back of the room a man, a faculty member at Ricks College. She said to him, “Chester, would you please come and accompany me?” At the invitation, this great soul rose from his chair and walked to the front. She handed him the piece of music, and he sat at the piano. He accompanied her to seeming perfection and added much to the song she sang.

As I watched that happen, my mind went back to the time of my opportunity to learn to play the piano—the one I did not take. The thought occurred to me, “What if this woman would have said, ‘Bob, will you accompany me?’” I could have only had one response: “I am sorry, but I do not know how to play the piano and, therefore, I have no choice to make and, therefore, I have not freedom in the matter.” My failure to endure the process of creating a choice as it related to playing the piano had left me without capacity and, therefore, in bondage to my own inadequacies. Armed guards could not have denied me any more effectively. In that instance I was free to do nothing.

I’m so grateful for this opportunity to be in this great priesthood meeting, to have heard such wonderful teaching and testimony. It made me think of my own experience. Almost everything that I’ve been able to accomplish as a priesthood bearer is because individuals who knew me saw things in me that I couldn’t see.
As a young father I prayed to know what contributions my children might make in the Lord’s kingdom. For the boys, I knew they could have priesthood opportunities. For the girls, I knew they would give service representing the Lord. All would be doing His work. I knew each was an individual, and therefore the Lord would have given them specific gifts for each to use in His service.
Now, I cannot tell every father and every leader of youth the details of what is best for you to do. But I can promise you that you will bless them to help them recognize the spiritual gifts with which they were born. Every person is different and has a different contribution to make. No one is destined to fail. As you seek revelation to see gifts God sees in those you lead in the priesthood—particularly the young—you will be blessed to lift their sights to the service they can perform. With your guidance, those you lead will be able to see, want, and believe they can achieve their full potential for service in God’s kingdom.
With my own children, I prayed for revelation to know how I could help each of them individually prepare for specific opportunities to serve God. And then I tried to help them visualize, hope, and work for this future. I carved a board for each son with a quotation from scripture that described his special gifts and an image that represented this gift. Beneath the picture and the legend, I carved the dates of each boy’s baptism and ordination into priesthood offices, with his height marked at the date of each milestone.
I will describe the boards I carved for each son to help him see his spiritual gifts and what he might contribute in the Lord’s work. You can be inspired to recognize, as I did, specific gifts and unique opportunities for each of the youth you love and lead.
When my oldest son became a deacon and an Eagle Scout, a picture of an eagle came to my mind as I thought of him and his future. We were living in Idaho near the base of the South Teton mountain, where we hiked together and watched the eagles soar. That picture in my mind gave me the feeling of Isaiah’s words:
“He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.
“Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall:
“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint.”
In fact, with that oldest son, we had stopped hiking below the peak of the South Teton because my son grew weary. He wanted to stop. He said, “Will I always be sorry that we didn’t make it to the top? Dad, you go on—I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
I replied, “I’ll never be disappointed, and you’ll never be sorry. We’ll always remember that we climbed here together.” At the top of his height board, I carved an eagle and the inscription “On Eagles’ Wings.”
Over the years, my son soared higher as a missionary than I had imagined in my fondest hopes. In the challenges of the mission field, some of what he faced seemed to be above his reach. For the boy you lift, it may be, as it was for my son, that the Lord lifted him higher in preaching the gospel in a difficult language than I had thought possible. If you will try with any young man to sense his priesthood possibilities, I promise you the Lord will tell you as much as you need. The boy may have potential even beyond what the Lord will reveal to you. Help him aim high.
The boy you are encouraging may seem too timid to be a powerful priesthood servant. Another one of my sons was so shy as a little boy that he wouldn’t walk into a store and talk to a clerk. He was too afraid. I worried as I prayed over his priesthood future. I thought of him in the mission field—that didn’t sound promising. I was led to a scripture in Proverbs: “The wicked flee when no man pursueth: but the righteous are bold as a lion.”
I carved “Bold as a Lion” on his board, beneath an image of a large lion’s head roaring. On his mission and in the years that followed, he fulfilled the hope in my carving. My once-shy son preached the gospel with great conviction and faced dangers with bravery. He was magnified in his responsibilities to represent the Lord.
That can happen for the young man you are leading. You need to build his faith that the Lord can transform him into a servant braver than the timid boy you now see.
We know the Lord makes His servants bold. The young boy Joseph who saw God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, in a grove of trees was transformed into a spiritual giant. Parley P. Pratt saw that when the Prophet Joseph Smith rebuked the vile guards who held them captive. Elder Pratt recorded:
“On a sudden he arose to his feet, and spoke in a voice of thunder, or as the roaring lion, uttering, as near as I can recollect, the following words:
“‘SILENCE, ye fiends of the infernal pit. In the name of Jesus Christ I rebuke you, and command you to be still; I will not live another minute and hear such language. Cease such talk, or you or I die THIS INSTANT!’”
Of that experience, Elder Pratt wrote, “Dignity and majesty have I seen but once, as it stood in chains, at midnight, in a dungeon in an obscure village of Missouri.”
The Lord will give His righteous servants opportunities to be bold as lions when they speak in His name and as witnesses in His priesthood.
Another son, even as a boy, had a large circle of friends who often sought his company. He forged bonds easily among people. As I prayed and tried to foresee his contribution in God’s kingdom, I felt that he would have the power to draw people together in love and unity.
That led me to the account in the Doctrine and Covenants that describes the efforts of priesthood elders to build Zion in Missouri to the acclaim of angels who saw their efforts and their contributions. That required great sacrifice. The revelation in the Doctrine and Covenants says, “Nevertheless, ye are blessed, for the testimony which ye have borne is recorded in heaven for the angels to look upon; and they rejoice over you, and your sins are forgiven you.”
On my son’s height board, I carved “Angels Rejoice over You.”
This son’s great ability to gather and influence people extended well beyond his school years. With fellow priesthood holders, he organized stake activities that gave the youth in his area faith to endure and even triumph in difficult situations. As he built faith in these young men and women, he helped build outposts of Zion in the urban centers of America. In the carving, I had the angels blowing trumpets, which may not be exactly how they do it, but it was easier to carve a trumpet than a shout.
Angels rejoice as priesthood leaders across the world build Zion in their wards, stakes, and missions. And they will rejoice over the young men and women you help to build Zion wherever they are and in whatever circumstances they may be. Zion is the result of people bound by covenant and love. I invite you to help your youth to join.
For one of my sons, I was prompted to carve a sun—that is, the sun in the sky—and the words from the Savior’s Intercessory Prayer: “This Is Life Eternal.” Near the end of His mortal ministry, the Savior prayed to His Father:
“And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.
“I have glorified thee on the earth: I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do.”
My son has given priesthood service across three continents but most importantly in his home and within his family. He has built his life around them. He works close to home, and he often returns to join his wife and younger children at the lunch hour. His family lives very near Sister Eyring and me. They care for our yard as though it were their own. This son is living not only to qualify for eternal life but also to live surrounded eternally by grateful family members whom he is gathering around him.
Life eternal is to live in unity, in families, with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Eternal life is only possible through the keys of the priesthood of God, which were restored through the Prophet Joseph Smith. Holding that eternal goal before the youth you lead is as great a gift as you could give them. You will do it primarily by example in your own family. Those you lead may not have a family in the Church, but I challenge you to help them feel and want the love of family on both sides of the veil.
The height boards I have described are only one way to help young people glimpse the grandeur God sees in them and their futures and the unique service He has prepared them to give. He will help you see how to do it for your children or for other youth you lead. But as you prayerfully seek to glimpse this future for yourself and to communicate it to the young person one on one, you will come to know that God loves each of His children as individuals and sees great and unique gifts in each of them.
As a father I was blessed to see great futures in God’s kingdom for my daughters as well as my sons. When I prayerfully sought guidance, I was shown a way to help my daughters recognize the trust God had placed in them as servants who could build His kingdom.
When my daughters were young, I saw that we could help others feel the love of those beyond the veil, throughout the generations. I knew that love comes from service and inspires hope of life eternal.
So we carved breadboards on which we placed a loaf of homemade bread and went together to deliver our offering to widows, widowers, and families. The legend I carved on each of those breadboards read, “J’aime et J’espere,” French for “I love and I hope.” The evidence of their unique spiritual gifts appeared not just on the boards I carved but more clearly as we distributed them to those who needed, in the midst of pain or loss, reassurance that the love of the Savior and His Atonement could produce a perfect brightness of hope. This is life eternal for my daughters and for each of us.
Now, you may be thinking, “Brother Eyring, are you saying that I have to learn how to carve?” The answer is no. I learned to carve only with the help of a kind and gifted mentor, then-Elder Boyd K. Packer. What little skill I achieved can be attributed to his great gift as a carver and his patience as a teacher. Only heaven can provide such a mentor as President Packer. But there are many ways you can shape children’s hearts without carving wooden boards or height boards for them.

Author’s Note: There were many more challenges for Elizabeth on the trek west. Elizabeth’s mother gave birth to a baby boy on the trail, and Elizabeth had to nurse her mother, tend the younger children, and do her mother’s chores as well as her own. Once Elizabeth was out washing when a sandstorm hit. She became lost and wandered for three days before she was found. Finally in October 1863, her family arrived in the Salt Lake Valley with little food or clothing. Later, Elizabeth married and became a mother in Israel as foretold. All the Lord’s promises to her were fulfilled.

* * *
It was three weeks after my parents had come. We were in a small park in town where there was a set of swings and some old distinguished-looking trees. We were sitting on the swings enjoying the early evening solitude. I was playing my guitar and singing.
“You know a lot of songs, Greg.”
“I learned most of them when we used to stage sit-ins. When you’re sitting around some administrator’s hallway, it’s nice to have something to do. Did I ever tell you that I went to Chicago?”
“How did you like it?” she asked eagerly.
“Like what?”
“Chicago, silly.”
“I wasn’t on a Boy Scout tour,” I snapped. I couldn’t believe that she didn’t know what we had done at Chicago. “Don’t you associate anything with Chicago?”
She wrinkled her nose, a sign I had learned to recognize as indicating deep concentration. “Carl Sandburg.”
That broke me up.
She climbed to the top of the slide, cleared her throat, and began reciting “Hog Butcher for the World.” After four lines she paused, wrinkled her nose, and confessed, “I forgot the rest.” For her finale she slid down the slide, and then turned to me and took a bow. “Ta da!” she sang.
I put my guitar down and motioned to the stairs. “After you,” I said. We both climbed the stairs. We sat up at the top of the slide. I put my arms around her and we went down the slide together, “making a train” as I had called it when I was four or five years old. We landed in a pile at the bottom of the slide. After we got untangled, I helped her up and we sat down on the merry-go-round.
“Debbie, we are crazy. You know that, don’t you?”
“Why?”
“You’re Miss Goody-two-shoes, and I’m your friendly neighborhood hippie.”
“You’re not, Greg. You’re just playing a part. The hair, the beard—it’s a costume. Underneath waiting to get out is a man like your father who will be an effective leader in the Church.”
“It’s not true. Somehow for me the Church never took.”
She took my guitar, retuned it, and began singing in clear tones, “Give Said the Little Stream.” When she got to the part, “There is something all can give,” she looked up and smiled at me. She pointed her finger at me and said, “The Church wants to join you.”
“Debbie, what are we going to do? We’ve fallen in love, but there’s no way we can both be happy. You told the Sunday School class that you weren’t going to settle for anything less than a temple marriage.”
“That’s right.”
“Why?”
She thought a while before answering.
“Love was meant to last forever. But in this life, death robs us. First we see our parents sliding year by year. Lines of worry grow into deep ravines. They begin walking with a cane. Their fingers become gnarled by arthritis. Then someday they leave us. In a few years the same thing happens to us.”
The stillness of the night was occasionally disturbed by the sounds of the crowd at the high school game a few blocks away.
She continued. “But death is not the end. In the resurrection those broken bodies will become perfect. No more canes, no more arthritis. A man and a woman who have honored the promises made in the temple will experience the joys of marriage again. This time forever.” She touched my hand lightly. “I want that for my marriage.”
“But I won’t ever be able to go to the temple. Never.”
“I’ll get someone else then,” she whispered. It was as if the words had fought a long battle in order to escape from her lips.
“I thought you loved me,” I said.
“It’s more than that. I’m in love with you. There’s a difference.”
“And you’d toss everything we’ve got going for us into the air because of the Church?”
“Greg, I know Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. What else can I do?”
“Maybe you believe it sincerely, but you can’t know it.”
“Why not?”
“C’mon Debbie! This is the twentieth century. You can’t know anything is true. You’re in college. How can you swallow that now?”
She stood up. “And how can you sit through a fast and testimony meeting and not be moved. Why can’t you feel the influence of the Holy Ghost?”
We were standing up facing each other.
“I feel what can be recorded—sound, light, heat, taste, touch. That’s what we’ve got in this world.”
“No it isn’t. I know beyond any doubt that Joseph Smith was a prophet.”
“You can’t say that.”
“I am saying it, Greg.”
“That’s the same jazz I get from my parents every time I go home. I don’t want it from you.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s tearing us apart. I love you, Debbie. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. Except for your belief in the Church.”
“The things you respect in me are things that have come from my membership in the Church. Why are you fighting so hard?”
“Why? Welcome to the world! We’ve got problems to be solved. Our generation are the ones who have got to get it together before it’s too late. The Church may be all right, but it’s just not relevant in our day.”
“What problems?”
“Injustice, hate, pollution, poverty, wars! How does the Church propose to solve these problems?”
“If people would live the gospel of Jesus Christ, these problems would be solved.”
“Do you mean that the only thing you can suggest is for the whole world to join the Church? These are problems that won’t be solved by simple homespun ideas from Utah!”
“There’s a prophet of God in Utah. That’s worth more to me than some panel of experts predicting what the future will bring, or telling us that Christian ideals are old-fashioned, or that chastity is emotionally unhealthy. I’ve seen the gospel change the lives of people for the better. They pay their tithing and they get out of poverty. They have family home evenings and their love for each other increases. They live the Word of Wisdom and they are healthier. What program have you ever advocated that would touch people like that?”
It was the same argument we’d gone through before. “We’re not getting anywhere with this,” I said. “Let’s walk back to the car.”
I guess we both knew as we walked slowly to the car that we were breaking up. If we had loved each other less, maybe we could have gone on. But our love was too deep. Each disagreement brought pain. And if we married with our differences, we would live the same argument day after day.
Have I told you that when she laughed it was like the song of glass bells that ring with a gentle wind? And that she beat me at Ping-Pong eight consecutive games? And that she taught a Primary class for which she practiced the lessons on me? (“Greg, sit down and pretend you’re a four-year-old. Boys and girls, I’m going to tell you a story. What do you think about that?”) And that on one Saturday morning we got in my car and rode across the country roads, singing together? And that she talked me into taking her to the river to show her how to catch a fish with a spinner? (“Why would a fish want to eat a crummy piece of tin?”) And that her hair was like a halo around her face?
It was over.
On the way back to the dorm she tried again. “Greg, have you ever read the Book of Mormon?”
“I’ve read parts of it.”
“What parts?”
“The first few pages, until they start quoting Isaiah.”
“That’s all?”
“It’s a very confusing book.”
She gently rebuked me. “But aren’t you the college intellectual? The seeker of truth? And you’ve never read that little book?”
I pulled up to the dorm. “Not completely through, no.”
“Greg, I want you to read it this week.”
“It’s no good, Debbie. It won’t make any difference.”
“Greg, I want you to get a testimony so you can take me to the temple.”
“It won’t work. I’m not going to fake a belief even for that. Regardless of what I’m not, I am honest.”
“I know you won’t fake it, Greg.”
“Then why do you think it will make any difference?”
“There’s a promise with the book. You do your part and the Lord will do his. Greg, please read it and pray about it.”
I was worried about her. “Debbie, I don’t want to hurt you. If you believe in this, that’s great. But I don’t want to destroy your faith. If I read that book and nothing happens …”
“I know you, Greg. And, at least a little, I know my Father in heaven. It won’t fail. I know it.”
“For such a little girl you sure know a lot.”
“Will you read it?”
“Okay, I’ll read it.”
“And will you pray about it?”
“Debbie, I’m not even sure there’s a God.”
“There is. Ask him.”
“Okay, I’ll pray.”
“What will you pray for?”
“To know the right way, I guess.”
“No,” she said.
“No? What then?”
“Ask if the Book of Mormon is true.”
* * *
What can I say? If you’ve already got a testimony, you know what happened. And if you don’t, you’ll say I copped out because of her. At least that’s what my friends said when I told them about the Book of Mormon. If I could only make them see. But I can’t.
You know, it’s funny how a guy can grow up in the Church and escape a testimony of its truthfulness. I guess everyone must find out for himself the way Moroni said, by the power of the Holy Ghost.
Two weeks after it happened I walked into the foyer of the ward chapel. It was early Sunday morning before priesthood meeting. Brother Johnson was just walking out of the bishop’s office. When he saw me, he walked over and shook my hand.
“Hi there. I’m Brother Johnson. I don’t believe I’ve met you.”
“I’m Greg Jeffreys. I met you at the student open house. You walked up to me and said the same thing then.” I smiled and shook his hand.
“I did?”
“Yes, you did. But I had a beard and longer hair then.”
“Oh sure. You and Debbie have been going together.”
“Right. I need to talk to the bishop, Brother Johnson. I hope I can be advanced to an elder soon. I’ve got a date with Debbie at the temple.”