Gospel Story Finder

Another night someone preparing for a dance noticed that hotel waiters were behind schedule replacing tablecloths and refilling saltshakers for the next day. Despite the language barrier, he made it clear that he and his friends would like to help, and soon the chore was completed. “We’re all brothers,” one of the volunteers told the headwaiter. “We should help each other.”
“Brüder (brothers),” the waiter said, nodding his head in agreement, and he smiled as he reached over to shake hands.

Ladean felt confident as she sat on the piano bench in the Primary room. Her soft blond hair was tied back with a big bow that matched her dress. It seemed like only yesterday that Sister Hayes, the Primary chorister, had asked Ladean to accompany them during an opening song. Ladean had chosen one of her favorite Primary songs, even though it was fairly difficult to play. She had practiced it over and over again for three weeks.
Now the big moment was here. Sister Hayes stood up to lead the opening song and nodded to Ladean to begin. The introduction went fine, but when the Primary children joined in, Ladean’s confidence crumbled. Her heart began to pound louder and louder with every beat. Her hands began to tremble, her fingers stumbled on the keys, and her face blushed with embarrassment. Then she lost her place in the music. The children continued to sing as she frantically tried to reenter the song. But her fingers quivered so much that she could not control them, and before she knew it, the song was over. Tears welled up in Ladean’s eyes as she pushed herself away from the piano and sat down with the other children.
“I’d like to thank Ladean for accompanying us today,” said Sister Hayes. “She worked very hard on this song, and I would like her to help us with it again next week.”
Sister Hayes’s words sounded a fire alarm in Ladean’s mind: Next week? Not me! Never, neveragain. Oh I wish I could just disappear. I don’t want to ever play in front of anyoneagain!
At the end of Primary closing exercises, Sister Hayes quickly grabbed Ladean’s hand and pulled her toward the piano. “Quick, come up and play while the children leave,” she whispered.
Before Ladean could answer, she was staring at the piano keys. Once again her heart began to pound and her fingers trembled, but as she played, her confidence returned. This is right, she thought. I’m playing exactly like I practiced.
Sister Hayes smiled at Ladean. “See—I knew that you could do it.”
Ladean closed the songbook and shook her head. “I don’t understand,” she said. “I know this song. Why did I get so nervous? Something was different, but what?”
Sister Hayes put her arm around Ladean. “You’ll get it. Just try it again next Sunday.”
That evening Ladean sat at her piano, mumbling. “Now, the first time I played the song was with the Primary singing. And the second time I was playing alone. That’s it! That’s the difference—I’ve never practiced with singers. That’s why I got so nervous when the children joined in. I need some singers!”
She asked her mother for help. “Mom, will you sing this song while I practice?”
“Who, me? You know that I always sing off-key,” Mom laughed. “Can your father and brothers help out too? Maybe they’ll sing loudly enough to cover up my squeaking.”
“Great!”
Soon the whole family was gathered around the piano. Ladean’s brothers tried to outsing each other, and her father’s booming voice sounded like a bass drum. They all laughed and sang the song over and over until Ladean did not stumble or lose her place at all.
Throughout the following week, whenever Ladean practiced, she could hear her family humming from the other rooms in the house. Pretty soon her brothers would walk in and start singing aloud. Then her mom and dad would join in as well.
That next Sunday, Ladean once again sat at the piano in the Primary room. Sister Hayes nodded at her to begin the introduction. When the children started singing, Ladean smiled as she played. She thought of her family and all the wonderful, happy hours they had shared together, and she played the song through without one mistake.

After a 61-hour bus ride, our youth group arrived at the Manila Philippines Temple. In celebration of the temple’s 20th anniversary, the Davao stake youth had spent nine months preparing for the trip, attending family history classes, being actively involved in Church activities, researching and preparing family names, and helping to raise funds for the trip. There was excitement in the air as the 63 of us got off the bus that Monday night. At the temple patron housing, we held a very large family home evening, with musical performances and spiritual messages, and then tried to sleep.
During the next two days the youth were baptized and confirmed for over 2,000 of their ancestors, giving those ancestors the chance to accept the restored gospel. We didn’t feel hungry or tired as we worked hour after hour in the temple. The Spirit was very strong. Some youth had glowing countenances; others had tears of joy on their cheeks.
All too soon it was time to go home. A few minutes into our journey, the peaceful quiet of the bus was interrupted by police sirens. Outside, we were surrounded by patrol cars, which forced us to a stop. Then we could see police snipers around us, aiming forward. In those tense moments, we learned that the passengers of a bus a few feet in front of us were being held hostage, and the police were using our bus as a shield!
We leaders did our best to keep everyone calm, but some began to panic. In the confusion the police ordered us all to drop to the floor. After several terrifying minutes, we heard a man yelling for us to evacuate the bus. Following orders, we hurriedly got off the bus and went to a nearby vacant building.
For over an hour, we sat in the dark building, praying and listening for gunfire. Then finally we were told we could go back to our bus. The shootout had ended; two hostages and two hijackers had been killed.
We were badly shaken as we resumed our journey. As the shock lessened, however, we realized we had been protected. Not one of us had been injured, and we knew the hand of the Lord had been over us. We felt a divine presence and wondered if perhaps some of those for whom we had been baptized were close by.
I thought of the scripture that says, “I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say” (D&C 82:10), and I was glad the Lord keeps His promises. As we keep the commandments and continue faithfully in our duties, including temple and family history work, we will be worthy of the Lord’s blessings—including His protection when we need it most.

An Expression of Kindness
Two young missionaries knocked on a door, hoping to find someone to receive their message. The door opened, and a rather large man greeted them in a less-than-friendly voice: “I thought I told you not to knock on my door again. I warned you before that if you ever came back, it would not be a pleasant experience. Now leave me alone.” He quickly closed the door.
As the elders walked away, the older, more experienced missionary put his arm on the younger missionary’s shoulder to comfort and encourage him. Unknown to them, the man watched them through the window to be sure they understood his message. He fully expected to see them laugh and make light of his curt response to their attempted visit. However, as he witnessed the expression of kindness between the two missionaries, his heart was instantly softened. He reopened the door and asked the missionaries to come back and share their message with him.

As I look back over my life and remember the difficult decisions, one stands out far more than others: Should I go on a mission? Mom and dad want me to go. The bishop tells me I should go. Some of my friends are going, but others tell me it would be a mistake. They say: “Think of the fun you’ll miss.” “What about your education?” “How about your girl friend?” It just seems that there is so much going on that I can’t give up two years. What should I do?
Why should you serve a mission? Several things come to my mind as I think about the answer to this searching question. Surely, the answer is easy: The Lord says you should; the prophet has given repeated emphasis to this; your family, Church leaders, and others encourage you to serve—but they are not you. I remember having these thoughts. I also remember how good I felt, from the inside out, from the soles of my feet to the crown of my head, when I finally said yes. I received a confirmation from the Lord that what I had done was good. It was right, and I knew it. For once in my life I had started thinking about others instead of “number one” (me), and that gave me a feeling I have yearned for every day of my life since. It’s rewarding to give of yourself that others might be blessed. This is one of the reasons why our Savior made the following statement: “And he that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me. He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.” (Matt. 10:38–39.)

When you first meet Simone Millo, 10, of Florence, Italy, he seems to be shy. His dark brown eyes sparkle with friendship, but his manner is very quiet. But give him his bicycle, put a helmet on his head, let him dress in his brightly-colored bicycle racing outfit, and he becomes all smiles and full of excitement. Almost all children have favorite things that they like to do, and Simone loves cycling! He belongs to a cycling club called Itala. The club meets three times a week; and because Florence is such a large city with a lot of traffic, they usually ride on the cycling circuit in the park.
Simone has other favorites, too. He loves animals and had always wanted to have a pet of his own. Not long ago, his dream came true! “My brother and I got two dogs!” Simone said with a smile. “We named them Birba and Quinzia.” Birba (which means “naughty”) is a small basset hound, and Quinzia is a boxer. Simone and his brother, Emanuele, love to play with the dogs and take them for walks around their neighborhood. Of course, having pets also means taking care of them. But Simone’s mother, Christina, says that he is very willing to do that. “He also helps me with other chores around the house,” she adds, “and because I work outside the home, that is very important to me.”
The Millo family lives quite a distance from the church—it takes them about twenty minutes to drive there. Simone looks forward to Sundays and going to his Primary class. He loves to learn about the scriptures, and his favorite scripture story is about Nephi’s journey in the desert. There are three children in his Valiant class—two boys and one girl. But in his school, none of his friends are members of the Church. Simone tries to set a good example for them by remembering the things he learns at church and by doing the things he should.
Simone’s eighth birthday was a very special day—he was baptized on his birthday! His family were members of the Church when he was born, so he had looked forward to this day for a long time.
Simone’s father, Daniel, works with the Boy Scout troop in the Florence Branch, and his brother, Emanuele, belongs to that troop. Simone looks forward to the time when he can participate in Scouting activities with them. At this time, there is not a Cub Scout program in this branch for the younger boys, but Simone hopes that will happen soon.
“I want to go on a mission when I am old enough,” says Simone. When asked if he had a place in mind where he would like to serve his mission, he replied, “My grandmother is German, so maybe it would be nice to go to Germany.” But Simone knows he will be happy to go wherever he is called. And wherever that is—just maybe he can ride a bicycle there, too.

In the midst of the late spring rainy season in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, the Tonle Sap River—which has poured into the Mekong River for months—defies its natural movement and changes course to flow in the opposite direction.
This directional change causes the Tonle Sap Lake at the head of the river to swell to five times its size, bringing much-needed nutrients to the fish and birds that feed there.
Like the river that changes direction, members in Cambodia have felt how the gospel of Jesus Christ has helped change the direction of their own lives. Their hearts now overflow with the joy and peace the gospel brings. This swell of joy provides spiritual food for their souls.
Although the country has faced dark times, the gospel of Jesus Christ has helped many Cambodians see the light of a new day shine through the darkness of the past.
During the country’s political turmoil in the 1970s, many Cambodians were driven from their homes and lost family members.
Loy Bunseak, president of the Siem Reap Branch in the Cambodia Phnom Penh Mission, was nine years old in 1975, when he and his family had to leave their home. They—along with millions of others—were required to perform hard manual labor in the country’s vast fields.
During this time, President Loy lost both of his parents and five of his eight siblings.
Despite the hardships, President Loy always had at least one thing to help get him through his pain.
“I always had hope,” he says.
The determined hope that helped President Loy get through the trials of his childhood is the same hope that later allowed him to recognize the truth of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Because Cambodia is largely a Buddhist country, President Loy grew up without a knowledge of Jesus Christ. He began to learn about the Savior when Latter-day Saint missionaries came to his home and told him and his family they had an important message to share.
“I had never heard of Jesus Christ until I met the missionaries,” he says. “I wanted to learn more about Him.”
After intense study and discussion, President Loy and his family were baptized in 2001.
“The missionaries helped me learn from the Book of Mormon, but I received my testimony of its truthfulness from God,” President Loy says. “I could see how living by the teachings of the Book of Mormon made my family happier.”
President Loy’s experience is not unusual. Khan Sarin, president of the Sen Sok Branch in the Phnom Penh Cambodia North District, was separated from his family as a teenager and forced to work in the fields.
“I felt hopeless at this time,” President Khan says. “I did not know if I would survive.”
Looking back, President Khan feels that the Lord protected him from harm several times in his life. As a young man he joined the army and was shot at from as close as 20 feet (6 m) away but was not hit. He also stepped on many active land mines that did not explode. One land mine he stepped on did explode, but he was not seriously injured.
Because of the dangerous circumstances soldiers found themselves in, they did whatever they could to be protected. Several men in the military got tattoos because they believed the tattoos could help keep them safe.
“Before I became a member of the Church, I didn’t know anything,” President Khan says. “Now I know that it was Jesus Christ—not the tattoos—that saved me.”
After President Khan’s wife, Suon Sokmo, met the missionaries and was baptized, he was impressed by the changes he could see taking place within her. He accepted her invitation to study the scriptures together, and he soon decided to be baptized.
“The most important thing that I ever received in my life is the testimony I obtained from studying the scriptures,” he says.
Pich Sareth, a member of the Phnom Penh 12th Branch in the Phnom Penh Cambodia North District, also saw trials at a very young age. He was only five years old when he was separated from his family and forced to work in the fields. He would sometimes find crabs or frogs he could eat to quell his hunger.
Brother Pich’s wife, Seng Tha, and her family were also forced from their home. Because she was only four years old and small, she was not required to work, as other children were. She was separated from her family much of the day and was watched by elderly women who could not work.
After meeting the missionaries in 1995, Brother Pich and his wife began to learn about the love Heavenly Father has for them. “When I had problems, I could see that praying helped me get through them,” Brother Pich says. “I knew Heavenly Father cared.”
After Brother Pich decided to be baptized, his wife also gained a testimony of the gospel and was baptized.
Since their baptisms, Brother Pich and his family have recognized the joy that stems from gaining a testimony of Jesus Christ. The Pich family takes time every day to read the scriptures. As they have done this, the joy of the gospel has permeated their souls.
“We feel we are on the right path now, and we want to stay on this narrow path and continue to progress,” Sister Seng says. “I am grateful every day that we can have our children on this path with us.”
The joy that President Loy feels extends in both directions—to his ancestors as well as his descendants. President Loy and his family visited the Hong Kong China Temple in 2004. Not only were President Loy’s wife and children sealed to him, but the saving ordinances of the temple were also completed for his father, mother, and the brothers and sisters he had lost.
“I cannot even explain the joy I felt in the temple,” President Loy said. “I knew my family was being made strong. I know that the temple is necessary for families to live together forever.”
President Khan and his family also had the opportunity to be sealed together as an eternal family in the Hong Kong Temple. “The feeling I felt at the temple is something I had never felt before. It is hard to express my feelings in words,” President Khan says.
Thanks to the spreading of the gospel, members in Cambodia are receiving the spiritual nutrients they need to survive. Although the Church is growing in Cambodia, members hope that this growth is just a precursor to a huge blossoming of the gospel in their country.
Just as the fish and animals receive needed nutrients when the Tonle Sap Lake overflows, a growing number of Cambodians are receiving the spiritual nutrition they need thanks to the overflowing desire in members’ hearts to share the gospel.
“When a pot is covered, it boils over,” President Khan says. “This is the feeling I have in my heart. I must open my heart to tell everyone what it is feeling.”
President Loy hopes the residual effect of the gospel being taught in his home will be that his daughters will continue to embrace the gospel and teach their children.
“After I found out about Jesus Christ, everything became better in my life and with my family,” he says. “Having the priesthood in our home brings us together. If we have a problem, we sit and discuss it as a family.”
Since the government of Cambodia granted the Church legal recognition in 1994, thousands of Cambodians have accepted the gospel. The Pich family looks forward to the day when the gospel will spread across all parts of the country. Brother Pich says, “I hope someday there will be a temple in Cambodia.”
Sister Seng agrees: “Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, are alive. My hope for the future is that the Church will continue to grow so a temple can be built.”
President Khan recognizes the ways his life has changed since learning of the Savior. He believes the gospel of Jesus Christ is the only thing that can heal Cambodians from their past trials.
“After I became a member of the Church, I lost a lot of the pain I felt from things that had happened in the past. I’ve received a new light that I never had before,” he says. “Everything feels new.”

“Hurry up, Jared, or we’ll be late for church,” Mother called from the bottom of the stairs. Rushing down the stairs and out the front door, Jared suddenly remembered that he needed his scriptures for Primary. Rather than taking the time to go back upstairs, he grabbed a set from the living room bookshelf.
On the way to church, he flipped through the Bible to find his favorite scripture about baptism. He wanted to share it in Primary opening exercises. He was surprised to find that the scripture he was looking for was already underlined in red and that there was a date written in the margin. “What happened on 2 July 1982?” he asked, reading the date.
“Let me think,” Mother said. “That was about the time Samuel turned eight. Why, I believe that was when he was baptized.”
Samuel was Jared’s big brother. He had recently married and moved to another state to go to college. Even though Samuel lived far away, Jared loved him very much and still felt close to him.
Jared turned to the first page of the Bible and saw Samuel’s full name printed in a child’s scrawl. Jared realized this must be the set of scriptures his brother had used when he was in Primary. And Samuel must have had the same favorite scripture about baptism that Jared had now. That made Jared feel even closer to Samuel. Turning back to Matthew 3:16–17 [Matt. 3:16–17], Jared carefully wrote his own baptism date in the margin next to Samuel’s.
Jared happily carried his brother’s scriptures to his Primary class. When the teacher asked the students to open their scriptures to Doctrine and Covenants 4 [D&C 4], he discovered there was a bookmark there. It was old and worn around the edges.
Jared turned it sideways so he could read the words written on it: “Every young man should serve a mission.” He thought about Samuel’s mission to Mexico and about how Samuel had begun saving money for a mission while he was still in Primary. Jared wondered if Samuel had started his mission fund when he got this bookmark.
After Primary, Jared carried Samuel’s scriptures to sacrament meeting. When one of the speakers read Doctrine and Covenants 131:2 [D&C 131:2], Jared was not surprised to open Samuel’s scriptures and see that the verse was already underlined. He also found a card there on which Samuel had written five reasons he wanted to get married in the temple. Jared thought about his brother’s recent temple marriage. Samuel must have started planning to get married in the temple when he was my age!
When Jared got home from church, he wrote a letter to Samuel:
Dear Samuel,
Thanks for letting me borrow your scriptures today. I hope you don’t mind that I wrote my baptism date in the margin next to yours. I’ve always wanted to be just like you when I grow up, and now I know how I can start. I want you to know I am going to save some money each week for my mission. And after my mission, I want to get married in the temple. Thanks for being a good example to me your whole life.
Love, Jared

Whether living in a bustling, modern metropolis or in a sleepy mountainside village, members find peace and guidance in the gospel. Halfway across the Korean peninsula in the Yang San village, Chun Young Jun and Lim In Sok are raising their four sons with the same values and principles as the Choi family, but in a different setting. After living in Pusan, the couple moved to the village so they could spend more time together as a family. Sister Lim runs a preschool, and Brother Chun pursues a writing career. (Many Korean women retain their maiden names after marriage.)
The Chun family have recently discovered new talents. Reciting a story he had read to his own children from Songdo Wi Bot (the Church’s Korean magazine), Brother Chun recently won a nationwide storytelling contest. Now, complete with makeup and costumes, he and his wife spend many afternoons entertaining a rising generation with “stories with morals.”
As a result of winning the contest, the Chun family was deluged with media attention. Numerous television programs and newspaper articles appeared, telling the Chun story. Leading almost every report was an observation about the unity and commitment found in the family. “The people who visited us were amazed,” his wife observes. “But we were just living gospel principles.”
A few years ago, the Chun family would not have been unusual; the Korean culture is steeped in familial traditions. But South Korea, like other countries battling to keep abreast of worldwide progress, finds that business and economic concerns often overshadow timeless values.
For Cho Young Hyun, who serves as bishop of the Poong Hyang Ward in Kwangju, the determination to live gospel principles has even become an advantage in the competitive business world.
After completing his university studies, Bishop Cho became a candidate for a prestigious chemical engineering position with one of South Korea’s largest oil companies. As part of the hiring process, he interviewed with all of the company’s directors. “They sat in front of me and fired off questions,” he explains.
One of the questions asked was how he felt about family responsibilities in comparison to company responsibilities. “I think they were anticipating that I would assure them my first priority was with the company,” Bishop Cho says. “But I answered, without hesitation, that no success could compensate for failure in the home. My answer surprised them and moved them. And I was able to share the words of a prophet.”
Bishop Cho got the job. But after only five months, he received an offer to teach in the Church Educational System. Despite the fact that his salary would be cut by two-thirds, he accepted the offer and now teaches in Kwangju, a community in southwestern Korea near where he grew up.
“From the time I was young, I wanted to be a teacher,” says Bishop Cho as he reflects on the direction his life has taken. “But teaching math or science or history didn’t interest me. I wanted to teach people things that could change their lives. And now I am.”
The lives that Bishop Cho is changing include those of young students who attend the numerous seminary and institute classes held throughout South Korea. The seminary and institute program has gradually gained momentum in the country as local Church leaders recognize that the youth of today are the leaders of tomorrow and must see for themselves where peace and happiness can be found.
Sister Lee Kyung Hee, a member of the Seocho Ward in Seoul, teaches early-morning seminary. As a returned missionary, she recognizes the importance of establishing gospel priorities at a young age.
“I learn from these kids,” she explains. “As I study and prepare lessons for them, I learn details of the gospel and reinforce my testimony. Teaching seminary gives me a chance to do something for Heavenly Father. I share with the students my testimony, my life, my experiences. And as long as I serve Heavenly Father, he keeps blessing me.”
In Sister Lee’s early-morning seminary class, students learn to apply scriptural teachings to current-day situations. “I love reading about Alma and the sons of Mosiah on their mission,” says one student. “I can learn from their examples and their courage. For the first time in my life, I’m facing conflicts with my friends and my beliefs. I feel power from the Lord as I read the scriptures, attend meetings, and make correct decisions.”
Education is a highly competitive endeavor in Korea; the elementary or primary school years prepare students for exams that qualify them for further education. Attending classes and studying for ten to twelve hours a day is not uncommon. Taking time out for religious activities can present a frustrating conflict, especially if a student is the only Church member in his or her home.
One young member in Pusan is familiar with that dilemma. Forbidden by her mother to attend Church meetings, this teenager has faithfully continued to pray and read the scriptures, believing that someday her mother will relent.
“I know what’s important to me and that if I continue to obey and do what I can, the Lord will bless me,” she states simply.
Han Sang Ick of the Shin Dang Ward in Seoul knows that he has been richly blessed as a result of his obedience. Although his life has not taken the path he had originally planned, Brother Han says, “I am happier today than I ever imagined.”
A university drama student with aspirations to perform and teach, Brother Han was selected as student body president of the Latter-day Saint institute in Seoul. “All the prior presidents had served a mission,” he explains. “I found myself doing some serious thinking about whether I should serve a mission or not.”
Brother Han, baptized at age seventeen and the only member of the Church in his family, struggled with his family responsibilities. His father had died, and as the eldest son, he was responsible for his mother. “She really expected me to graduate, marry, and take care of her. That is the pattern established through the years.”
Instead, Brother Han graduated, arranged for his mother to be taken care of, and, at age twenty-six, became a full-time missionary. “And of course, that was the right decision,” he concludes. “My mother was blessed, and I established a pattern of righteous decisions.”
It was on his mission that Brother Han learned a great lesson about the Book of Mormon. “As missionaries, we were told to tell the people first about the Book of Mormon and the Joseph Smith story. I felt that those things were harder to understand and accept and that it would be easier for investigators to accept the gospel principles gradually,” Brother Han says.
However, he quickly became frustrated with the lack of response from investigators. After fasting and praying, “I received my answer,” Brother Han says. “I knew I had to teach the Book of Mormon first. I recognized that I hadn’t been relying on the Spirit’s ability to touch people and change their attitudes. It surprised me, but when I was obedient, people accepted those gospel principles and ideas that I had thought would be so difficult for them.”
While a twenty-six-year-old full-time missionary might be unusual in most countries around the world, many Korean missionaries are that age. Due to a mandatory 2 1/2-year military stint and strict education requirements, Korean men often serve missions after completing their military service and graduation. Serving a mission is becoming more common for Korean Saints, both men and women. Currently, there are four missions in South Korea, with more than 25 percent of the missionaries being native Koreans.
Of course, learning the gospel from a native Korean has certain advantages; missionaries often share with investigators personal experiences of blending Korean culture with gospel principles. Those personal testimonies can be instrumental in helping new members make major life-style changes.
One of the biggest challenges faced by Korean members, especially those involved in the world of business, is obeying the Word of Wisdom. “Drinking and smoking are a way of life here, especially part of the business and social world,” observes Joo Duck Young, a member of the Dunchon Branch. “After business hours, men go and drink together socially. It is an established and accepted part of work.
“But Korean Latter-day Saints find that after work, they have Church callings to fulfill or family responsibilities to perform. Without personal knowledge that the Word of Wisdom is an eternal principle relating to our health and that the family unit is an eternal unit, you feel that everyone is succeeding in the business world but you. Each member has to know what is eternally important.”
And Brother Joo should know. As director general of the Ministry of Trade, he is the highest-ranking South Korean government official in the Church. His colleagues have come to respect his standards and even envy them.
“The gospel teaches diligence and honesty and conscientiousness,” he explains. “And even more importantly, the gospel teaches us to be kind. Koreans are very private people; they don’t get involved in other people’s lives unless they are related. When I go out of my way to help someone, people are often surprised. But they sense that I am sincere, that I really care.”
Being on the receiving end of such uncharacteristic kindness can change lives. In Naju, sixteen-year-old Seo Jin Oo is alive today, thanks to the faith and love of his family and dozens of gospel friends.
Jin Oo was at school, studying during a recess break, when a classmate flew into a rage and hit him on the head with a club. Dazed but still conscious, Jin Oo moved to the back of the classroom, where he fell unconscious to the floor.
For the Seo family, the next thirteen days were filled with blessings, prayers, and round-the-clock vigils. The summer weather was blistering hot, the hospital was not air-conditioned, and there were few nurses. Jin Oo’s parents, Seo Young Won and Kim Kyung Ja, were responsible for keeping their son’s temperature down by continually applying cool towels to his feverish body.
“There was always a member or a missionary there,” recalls Brother Seo. Members traveled to the hospital to give Jin Oo’s parents much-needed breaks. Jin Oo’s name was put on the prayer roll in the Seoul temple, and members throughout the Kwangju stake held special fasts.
“The doctors and nurses tried to prepare us for his death,” Sister Kim observes. “But we kept on hoping. We had faith.”
After two surgeries, Jin Oo awoke from the coma and, contrary to doctors’ predictions, has suffered no brain damage or lasting effects from the incident.
“It was an extremely emotional time for us,” says Sister Kim. “But we certainly learned what really mattered and where we could turn for help. Jin Oo’s experience has strengthened us as a family and as a branch. We’re closer, more unified, and more aware of others and their needs. We really do have a greater determination to love and serve others.”
Radiating the peace of the gospel, South Korean Saints—who make up one-tenth of a percent of the country’s total population—are determined to keep growing. And that determination, like that of the ever-blooming moo gung hwa, makes a difference for Latter-day Saints in the Land of the Morning Calm.

My friends and I were going downstairs. When we got to the elevator, I had an uncomfortable feeling and asked my friends not to use it. They decided to do it anyway. I took the stairs. When I got downstairs, my friends weren’t there. The elevator had gotten stuck! It was a while before they got out. I was happy that nothing serious happened. I also felt good that I followed the Holy Ghost.
Amalie N., age 10

I think of my neighbor whose wife was afflicted with Alzheimer’s disease. Every Sunday he would help her dress for Church meetings, comb her hair, apply her makeup, even put on her earrings. In rendering this service, he was an example to every man and woman in our ward—in fact, for the world. One day his wife said to him, “I just want to see my husband again and be with him.”

He answered, “I am your husband.”

And she sweetly replied, “Oh, good!”

Prayer was a very important part of my life. As a child, I was taught to pray. I remember one time when I was riding out to the ranch with my father. As he drove, he started humming or singing, “‘Ere you left your room this morning, Did you think to pray?’”* Then he glanced at me and asked, “Son, did you pray this morning?”
“No.”
“Don’t you pray in the mornings?”
“I pray at night,” I replied.
At that moment, he took the time to explain to me the importance of praying in the morning and at night. From that time on, it became part of my life to pray both morning and night. In 2 Nephi 26:15 [2 Ne. 26:15], we are told that “the prayers of the faithful shall be heard.” We often experienced that scripture. I learned in my youth that as we were faithful and did our part, the Lord blessed us.

I couldn’t think of any good reasons why my brother Parry insisted on being a pest. He was almost ten and old enough to begin acting like a human being. Yet he continued to be a source of constant irritation and frustration in my life. He continued to repeat in a high nasal tone every syllable I uttered. He continued knocking things over in my room with his giant leaps. He continued yelling my name constantly: “Janet! Janet! Janet! Listen to this, Janet. Look at this, Janet.” And he continued telling mom and dad the things he thought he had heard me say in my phone conversations.

Sometimes he really did obnoxious things, such as the time he said to Jack Patrick, “Janet likes you second best to Ralph VanBorg, but she’s crazy about him. She’s always doodling his name on everything.”

“Why do you always have to be right around me?” I asked Parry once. “Having a brother like you is like always being plagued by some kind of a giant fly. You’re always buzzing around me, trying to irritate me out of my mind.” That statement proved to be a mistake. After that, Parry made it a point to buzz loudly in my ear every chance he got or to pretend to fly about my room.

I thought I had tried everything to get rid of the pest in Parry. I had shouted, bribed, and even cried, but nothing had helped. Mom and dad certainly never helped. Parry was their joy. He had been a surprise to them when they had given up hope of being able to have more children. “I’ll talk to him,” mom always said, “but I know he just wants your attention. He loves you so.”

“Sure he does,” I would say to myself. Then mom would say, “He’s such a good boy. I don’t know why you two can’t get along better.” My parents were slightly prejudiced. Slightly? They seemed to know a totally different Parry from the one I knew.

Just when I was sure there was no hope and that there was nothing to do but look forward to the day he left for his mission, my friend Susan, who is big on adages, reminded me that “you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”

“How does that apply?” I asked.

“I’m not sure. I just thought that maybe if you were sweet to him, no matter what awful things he did, the shock might cause him to change into someone halfway decent.”

“There’s no way I could do that,” I said.

“Anything is worth a try, isn’t it?” Susan herself had been the victim of Parry’s obnoxious behavior whenever she came over to talk. She understood the problem but not the extent of it. I was desperate. I would try anything.

Although I had tried being nice before, it had never lasted for long. Somehow my good will died after 2 1/2 minutes around Parry. But maybe if I persisted … maybe if I mustered every ounce of self-control … It was worth a try.

The next morning I was determined that for one full day I would be nice to my brother. Nothing he did would bother me. Nothing. His teasing would not drive me berserk.

The morning started out with a bang. The room was a blur not only before I put on my glasses but also afterwards.

“Soaped,” I whispered. I was determined that this first test would not be my undoing. I gritted my teeth and walked to the nearest sink. Parry must have been waiting for my groan because he came into my room with a sheepish look on his face. By that time I had cleaned my glasses, washed my face with cool water, and had taken a few deep breaths. I was ready for the challenge.

“Good morning, Parry,” I said with a lilt in my voice.

“Hi,” he mumbled. “Didn’t you find a surprise this morning?”

“Uh huh, and here’s one for you.” I ruffled his hair and planted a big kiss on his forehead.

“Ugh.” Parry fell to the floor. “Ugh, I’m turning into a frog.” He began hopping out of my room. Even though he was croaking in agony, I thought I had seen an underlying look of pleasant surprise on his face.

“This just might work,” I said quietly to myself. “He’s gone. At least for a while.”

At breakfast I pretended not to notice that my egg had sugar on it and my cereal had salt on it. Parry eyed me with curiosity.

“Are you going to ball practice today?” I asked.

“Why? Are you wondering when you’ll be getting rid of me?”

“No, I just wondered. You’ve been pitching really great lately.”

“How do you know? You never go to the games.”

“I’ll have to start going. From what I’ve seen in the backyard, you’re really great.” Parry grunted and tried to hide a pleased smile.

By lunch time Parry couldn’t handle the curiosity. “You’re sure in a good mood today for a change,” he said.

I smiled. “Yes, I am.” He just sat staring at me, and I could tell he was totally confused. I decided that while I had him at a disadvantage, I would double-dose him with so much honey that he wouldn’t know what had happened to him.

I walked down the hall to my room and picked up my phone. Just as I had hoped, Parry followed me and stood outside my door, hitting the wall with the rubber ball he had been carrying around the house with him lately. Today I wouldn’t let the dull thuds bother me, because today I wanted him to eavesdrop.

“Hi, Sue. How did you like that book I loaned you?” I asked the time and temperature man. “Oh, uh huh. Yes, I think so too. No. Yes. Uh huh. Oh, Parry? He’s fine.” At this point I began whispering, but I kept my voice just loud enough for Parry to hear. “I can tell he’s really growing up. He’s grown about three inches this summer, I think. And he’s really athletic.” I swallowed before I continued, winced, then said the words: “I’ve never told him this, but I do love him. I know I don’t act like I do, but I do.”

Parry had stopped hitting the ball against the wall and seemed to be listening intently. I congratulated myself on my great idea. Surprisingly, it really hadn’t hurt that much to say the words. I was convinced that this much honey was bound to smother Parry in stickiness for the rest of his life. But contrary to my calculations, Parry burst into my room and began grabbing at my phone. “Gimme that.”

“What are you doing? Quit it! I’m trying to talk to Susan. See you, Susan,” I said loudly, but it was too late. Parry had the phone close enough to his ear to hear the dial tone.

“I knew it,” Parry said miserably. “What did you do, call the time?”

“None of your business. Why don’t you get out of here and give me my phone,” I shouted, totally losing my cool. “Who do you think you are?”

“I knew there was something funny going on,” Parry said. “You must think I’m pretty dumb with all that phony stuff. Well, I didn’t believe any of it. You think I can’t tell when you’re faking it? I know you hate me, so don’t try to fake it.” Parry slammed the door to my room, and then I heard the ball crash into the entry.

“Oh, oh,” I said aloud. “Mom’s vase.” If Parry had broken my mother’s delft, he was in trouble.

Sure enough, the next thing I heard was my mother’s cry. “Ohhhhhh. Oh, Parry, my best … ohhhhh, I could cry. My only nice … ohhhhh.” The tone of her voice changed for a moment. “That does it, young man. You’re grounded for the week. Ohhhh, it’s ruined.”

Parry must have gone straight to his room because I heard his door close. Then I heard a strange muffled sound coming from behind it. Finally I realized that Parry was sobbing into his pillow. Parry never cried. He was the type to hide his feelings behind some goofy act.

“Oh shoot,” I whispered, feeling rotten. There was no doubt Parry would be mortified if he knew that I could hear him, so I sat still. “Oh shoot,” I whispered again. “Now he’s really done it.” Parry and I both knew that when mom grounded us, she meant it. Very rarely did she change her mind. She could be mighty stubborn. That meant Parry would miss the important game coming up, the game he had been talking about for weeks. “Well, I can’t think about it now, or I’ll get my headache back,” I decided. My stomach ache would do for now. I tried not to think about it for the rest of the day, but I couldn’t help myself, especially when I admitted that I was partially to blame for the predicament Parry was in.

That night was mom and dad’s date night, and I had cooked dinner with the help of the casserole left over from the night before and the spaghetti left over from the night before that. Parry obviously wasn’t planning to speak, and I kept quiet too, not really knowing what to say anyway. But when I brought out the pudding and Parry mumbled, “Oh good!” I warmed up.

“I’m sorry about what happened today,” I said. Parry shrugged. “And I guess it was pretty phony of me to call the time. That part was phony, anyway.”

“It was all pretty phony,” Parry said.

“No, not what I said.” Parry didn’t look up. “Just for the record, sometimes I can’t stand you, you know that. But, well, that doesn’t mean I don’t love you, because I do. What I said on the phone is true.” I paused. “And … I’ll talk to mom about the game you’ve got coming up. I’ll tell her it was my fault and see if I can get her to change her mind. I know that game is important to you.”

Parry grinned and began slurping his pudding happily. “Glurk! Glurrrrrrrk! That’s a frog sinking into a sea of mud. Glurrrk! Glurk! Glub, glub, glub.”

He’s hopeless, I thought.

After the dishes, I went to my room to read, and I decided to let Parry stay up as late as he wanted to. I didn’t need a hassle with him tonight. I could hear him watching the movie The Ant from Outer Space, and as long as he was watching that, he wouldn’t bother me. But he had only watched it for about a half hour when I heard him click the TV off. I half-expected him to burst into my room as the ant from outer space, making an orgh sound and leaping at me from the doorway. But he didn’t. Instead he paused at my door, knocked, and said, “Goodnight, Janet.” I put down my book when I realized what had happened. Parry had been just plain Parry, a regular, normal, courteous human being. He hadn’t been a fly or a frog, or even an ant. He hadn’t been any pest at all, and he had knocked, showing respect for my privacy. He had knocked! I couldn’t believe it! As far as I was concerned, it was as good as saying “I love you.” I sighed before I turned out my bedside lamp. Then I smiled. There was hope after all.

Michelle’s dark eyes had lost their usual sparkle as she plopped down beside Katie and cried, “I just have to find a way to earn some money. I just have to!”
“Still hung up on piano lessons, huh?” asked Katie. “Wasn’t six months of playing scales enough for you?”
“I loved it,” replied Michelle. “Every bit of it, including the scales. I didn’t miss a single day of practicing, and the bishop still lets me use the old piano in the cultural hall to practice on. Sister Jackson said I was really coming along too. But Dad’s hours are being cut again, so any money for piano lessons has to come from what I earn. And nobody wants a ten-year-old baby-sitter when there are so many older girls available.”
“Well, it’s not hopeless.” Katie tried to cheer her friend. “There are other things you can do, aren’t there?”
“Not around here. I’ve tried housework, gardening, mowing lawns, walking dogs, and anything else you can name. People either have someone already or they can’t afford it. I’ve prayed for help, and I know Heavenly Father wants us to work out our problems ourselves, but I just can’t think of anything else to do.”
The girls sat in silence for a while, then Michelle got up. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing! Want to come to the library with me? Check with your mom while I get my card and the books I’ve finished.”
The girls walked slowly, finally coming to the old brick library. Katie got a few books for herself as Michelle listlessly pulled books off the shelves, leaving some on the table and keeping some to take home. Maybe they would help take her mind off her problem.
Later that evening Michelle curled up in her favorite chair with one of the new books. It was about a Navajo Indian girl, and it wasn’t long before she was immersed in her reading. Then suddenly she sat up and cried, “That’s it!”
Dad lowered his paper and asked with a smile, “What’s it, Michelle? Did you solve the mystery?”
“It’s not a mystery, Dad. It’s a story about Little Blossom, an Indian girl, and … and my piano lessons!” Michelle hurried to explain. “You know how much I want lessons and that I can’t find any jobs. Well, I just got an idea from my book. Little Blossom is going to … well, anyway, she trades things! Her family traded necklaces for blankets or other things. They didn’t have to have money!”
As Michelle paused, Dad nodded and waited for her to finish her thought.
“Well, couldn’t I do that too? I wouldn’t have to trade some thing would I? Couldn’t I trade something I do?”
“Well, honey,” Dad answered, “it might work. Sister Jackson is going to have a baby, so why not walk down there tomorrow morning and see if there’s anything that you can do to help her? But don’t be too disappointed if it doesn’t work out.”
Michelle didn’t think she would ever get to sleep, but morning finally came, her chores were finally finished, and she could leave for Sister Jackson’s house. She was a little nervous, and when Sister Jackson invited her in, the words came tumbling out. After explaining in a jumbled fashion about Little Blossom, she finished, “So instead of paying for the lessons in cash, is there anything I can do in trade for them? I’m a good housecleaner—Mom says so, anyway—and I can iron and do other things too.”
Michelle held her breath while Sister Jackson thought it over.
“You may have solved a problem for me,” the piano teacher said after a moment. “I went to the doctor for another checkup a few days ago, and he said I need to be taking it a little easier. I can still teach and do most of the things I usually do, but I’m not supposed to do any heavy cleaning. I was wondering what I was going to do, but you seem to have provided the solution.”
“Oh, I’d love to do whatever you can’t!” Michelle said breathlessly. “What do you want me to do, and do you want me to start now, and—”
“Hold on a minute,” Sister Jackson interrupted gently. “We need to settle details first.”
Two hours of housework for each lesson seemed fair to both of them, and they would start on Thursday.
“Oh, thank you, Sister Jackson! I’ll work hard, I promise. See you Thursday.” Michelle waved as she ran down the steps.
Michelle was practicing at the church that afternoon when Katie came in.
“Congratulations!” Katie said as she sat down on the piano bench next to her friend. “When I asked where you were, your dad told me all about your trading work for lessons, and I’m glad for you.”
“But there’s more,” Michelle said, her eyes sparkling. “Dad’s going to work on our neighbor’s car in trade for some kitchen cabinets. And he got the idea from me!”

One morning at four o’clock my little grandson awakened me and said, “Grandpa, I throwed up.” I was pleased that he had come to me—not to his mother or father or grandmother, but to me.
I went with him to the bedroom where he and his brother had been sleeping. It was a mess. I gave two little boys a shower, then reclothed, and relocated them. They were both staggering around sleepily.
Afterward I lay in my bed, smiling. It had been an experience full of good cheer and appreciation.
Several days later, at the breakfast table, my grandson said, between mouthfuls of cereal, “Grandpa, I think you are the greatest man in the whole world.”
I said, “Well, certainly one of the best looking, but maybe not the greatest.” But he didn’t laugh. He said, “And the goodest.”
That little fellow was overgenerous to me, but he understood something very important, something the Savior taught: In serving and being served, we really do learn to love each other.

I had finally come to know myself. I remember a day when, 15 and confused, I borrowed Sandy’s jeans. Sandy was everything I wished I was—cute, popular, self-confident. Somehow I guess I thought that if I wore her jeans, I’d be more like her. But her body, shapely for 15, was about three sizes bigger than my wiry one. I guess I looked pretty silly with her pants hanging on me like a bag, held tight around my waist with a belt, then ballooning out like a clown’s costume. I remember Grandpa’s face, so serious, so gentle: “Honey, why do you wear Sandy’s clothes? Why do you talk like her and laugh like her?” Embarrassed I looked to the floor, at the pants that hung inches past my feet.
“Why not be yourself?” he said.
“Oh, Grandpa,” I sobbed. “How can I be myself? I don’t even know who I am.”
Grandpa held me on his lap as if I were a child again, quietly, till the crying stopped and the tears dried. With a smile he looked into my eyes. “You used to know,” he said. “But we all forget sometimes. Take Sandy’s pants back to her. Together we’ll rediscover you. Then you can be yourself.”

My youngest daughter and her husband spent several years earnestly seeking the best medical direction and the latest scientific assistance to have a baby. They fasted, they prayed, they hoped.
At last the long-desired result was achieved, and she is expecting their first child. Recently, the doctor scheduled an intensive examination to determine the soundness of the pregnancy. My daughter approached the exam with much anxiety. As the appointed day drew near, she found that her husband could not accompany her, and she asked if I would go with her. She said, “Mom, after all we’ve been through, if anything is wrong, I am going to need someone with me.”
I was delighted to get a preview peek at someone I am going to love and treasure through eternity. I wanted to reassure her that everything was all right, but in my heart I too worried.
After the doctor reviewed the technician’s video, he came in to discuss the findings with us. His first words were, “I wish every baby could look this perfect!” I could hardly contain myself. As we got to our car, I could not hold back my feelings any longer and I began to cry. So many feelings just came spilling out. I wept, wishing every expectant mother could hear those words. I cried for every woman who wanted to have a baby but couldn’t. Tears flowed for all the women who want children but have not found a husband. Finally, I shed tears of gratitude with an overwhelming desire that our family will provide a home worthy of this baby.

It reminds me of two trees that were close to my home when I was growing up. The one was a Russian olive and grew right in our yard. It was watered every time the lawn was watered, and in that kind of protected environment it grew to be a beautiful tree. Yet one night a tremendous wind came up. Trees all over town were blown down, and with them went our Russian olive. We had watered it so well that the roots did not have to reach down into the soil; and because they were so close to the surface, the tree toppled over.
The second tree withstood the gale. It was a tremendous cottonwood, which still stands in the lane just half a block from where I was born. This tree was in the fullness of its growth when I was a child. It has always stood by itself, completely exposed to the elements, with nothing but a ditch running by, which most of the time is dry. It is gnarled and tough, and its roots have had to sink deep in order to drink of the water of life; but because its roots were forced downward, it lives. I was out home the other day and noticed that most of the trees around this cottonwood are gone. But in all of its power and majesty, it still hangs on.

Time passes. The hand of a bride becomes the hand of a mother. Ever so gently, she cares for her precious child. Bathing, dressing, feeding, comforting—there is no hand like Mother’s. Nor does its tender care diminish through the years. Ever shall I remember the hand of one mother—the mother of a missionary. Some years ago at a worldwide seminar for mission presidents, the parents of missionaries were invited to meet and visit briefly with each mission president. Forgotten are the names of each who extended a greeting and exchanged a friendly handshake. Remembered are the feelings that welled up within me as I took in my hand the calloused hand of one mother from Star Valley, Wyoming. “Please excuse the roughness of my hand,” she apologized. “Since my husband has been ill, the work of the farm has been mine to do, that our boy may, as a missionary, serve the Lord.” Tears could not be restrained, nor should they have been. Such tears produce a certain cleansing of the soul. That boy continues to be very special to me, as he does to her. A mother’s labor sanctified a son’s service.

BOOM! BOOM!
It was three o’clock in the morning, and the city was being bombed. One minute Grace had been asleep in her bed, and the next, Dad was telling everyone to get under cover. Now Grace was huddled under the kitchen table with her dad, mom, and younger brothers, Heber and Alvin. She could hear the rumble of explosions and glass shattering outside. It was so loud!
“What’s going to happen to us?” Grace asked Dad.
Dad stroked her hair. “I don’t know,” he said. “But let’s say a prayer.”
The Vlam family held each other close.
“Dear Heavenly Father,” Dad prayed, “please keep our family safe.”
After a while, the noise quieted down. There were no more explosions. They were safe!
Mom took Grace’s hand and smiled at her. “Remember when we were sealed in the temple?”
Grace nodded. When they had moved from Indonesia to Holland, they were able to stop in Utah and be sealed in the Salt Lake Temple.
“Whatever happens, God will take care of our family,” Mom said.
The next day, Grace heard air-raid sirens when she was outside on the city plaza. She looked up and saw planes above her head, with little black things falling from them. She stood there, staring, her mouth wide open.
A man started shouting at her. “Run! Those are bombs!”
Grace raced home, her heart pounding as she finally made it safely through the front door.
A few days later, the Nazis—who were the government leaders of Germany—officially took over Holland. Because Dad had been an officer in the Dutch military, the Nazi officers watched him carefully. Sometimes the Nazis took people who had been military officers as prisoners.
But that won’t happen to Dad, Grace thought. We’re members of the Church, and Dad is a leader in the mission presidency. God will protect him.
After the bombings, the Vlam family had to leave their city. One day at her new school, Grace heard other students whispering.
“Some people were taken prisoner today!”
“Will they ever come back?”
Grace was scared. Was Dad OK? She ran home as fast she could. As she burst through the door, she saw Mom in the hallway.
“Is it true?” Grace asked. “Is Dad gone?”
Mom didn’t say anything, but Grace knew from Mom’s sad eyes that Dad had been taken away. He was a prisoner of war. Grace leaned against the wall. She was too afraid to even cry.
What do we do now? she wondered.
At that moment, Grace heard a voice say, “You will see your father again.” The voice was calm and clear. Grace knew it was the voice of the Holy Ghost. It made her feel a little better.
She didn’t know exactly what would happen, but she did know that Heavenly Father would take care of her and her family.
To be continued …