Gospel Story Finder

Indexing also affected my family. My father works in the Church’s Family History Department. When he saw me doing indexing, I could see a spark of excitement go through him. I learned more about his work, and we spent quality time together. Later, I taught my mom how to index and helped with workshops for ward members. After I had finished my 10-hour value project, I found myself still indexing. In about two and a half months, I was able to get over a thousand records done.

The Refiner’s Fire
I continued to look for work in Provo, but without success. By this time, our steadily diminishing funds were nearly depleted and my stress level soared. I was doing everything I could to find a job. The situation was dire. I thought the Lord had abandoned us. In the midst of this trial, I remember one particular night feeling that my faith was failing. That night my prayer extended into the wee hours of the morning. Most pleadings were filled with anger, as I recited the good things I had done to justify receiving the help I wanted. I murmured, “I have served a mission for you, married and worked in the temple, served in various callings, even taught early morning seminary! How can you not help us?” I traversed the five stages of the life and death cycle: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

At the end of the prayer, as frustrated as I was, I knew that I could not, that I would not deny that the Lord was there, that He was aware of our plight and that He loved us. At that point, I finally let go of my pride, my anger, became submissive, relinquished all control to the Lord, and accepted without reservation whatever was to come from our situation, including homelessness, if it was the Lord’s will. I put my head down that night on a pillow that was soaked with my tears. This was a spiritual process, brought about by tribulation and suffering, and it changed me forever. I have not been able to find the words that begin to describe the transformational light, power and love that entered my heart and soul.

The next morning when I awoke, I felt a complete calm cover me. As I planned another day of job hunting, (at the risk of sounding melodramatic), I thought, “I should spend a little time driving around town to find a good viaduct to live under, just in case it comes to that point.” Then “out of the blue” at 8:25 that morning, I received a call from a friend who was a co-owner and vice president at Nu Skin, then a relatively young start up multi-level company. He inquired whether I would be interested in working there and said that he had been waiting for a middle management position to open up before calling me. I interviewed that morning with his brother, the CEO. Within in a few minutes, he offered me the job. I started immediately. That was on a Wednesday. Oddly, they paid me for three days at the end of that week. That amount, plus the remaining $65 in our bank account, was just enough to pay the next mortgage payment and buy groceries to hold us over until the next pay day. Since then, our family has never been without. I came to better understand that the Lord was in total control and that he could change my circumstances in a matter of seconds, as He did with one very timely phone call from a friend.

There was a moment when I thought that leaving the Church was the answer to my problems because I just felt hopeless about everything. It is so easy to do what you’re not supposed to do in Iceland. The Church is so small here. It was just me and my siblings in our Church classes growing up. I felt lonely and for a while I didn’t like going to church.

Most people in Iceland push religion away. People start drinking at an early age. I got caught up in that, and I was inactive for a moment in my life. I’m not proud of that, but it’s a part of my experience and I learned from it. I studied a talk by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland and liked what he said: “The past is to be learned from but not lived in. … When we have learned what we need to learn … , then we look ahead, we remember that faith is always pointed toward the future.”1

One day when I was really struggling, I read my patriarchal blessing. As I read it, I realized that I do have a future. God has a plan for me, and He actually loves me. Going to church, taking the sacrament, reading the scriptures, and praying has brought so much light and happiness into my life. I soon realized, “This actually helps me.” That’s when I knew I always wanted the gospel in my life. After everything I’ve been through, I know that the gospel has saved my life, and I’m very happy about that.

Talking about my depression with family and friends has helped so much. It also led to more help. I didn’t want to take medications or go to therapy. I kept telling myself, “I have God.” But God provides many other tools, like medication and therapy, for us to use in addition to spiritual things.

As I started reading my scriptures more every day and getting closer to God through prayer, I received many blessings and revelations that my purpose is to help others. I feel like so many of us face mental health issues and we try to hide it. My depression and struggles have taught me that it’s better to open up and connect with others. My friend recently opened up to me about her struggle with depression. We talked about it and we truly understood each other.

We don’t always notice what others are struggling with, but I just walk around sometimes and look at other people and realize that God knows each and every one of us. He loves us and knows exactly what we are all going through. And we can help each other.

Through my struggles with depression, I’ve learned to ask, “What can I learn from this trial?” instead of “Why do I have this trial?” I love Ether 12:27, where it says that weak things can become strong if we have faith in Jesus Christ. This is always a comfort to me.

We all chose to come here to earth. We knew we were going to suffer through trials. And honestly that is what makes life great. Because we know there are good things to come. We know that if we follow the Savior throughout every hard phase, we can have eternal life and all these blessings that are waiting for us.

I’ve definitely noticed how I’ve changed through my depression. The Savior’s Atonement is real, my heart has been changed, and I’ve gotten stronger. I feel like I’m a different person than I once was. People notice and say, “You’ve changed.” One girl from school even said, “I see a difference and a light in you.” It’s weird because she isn’t even a member of the Church, and we hadn’t ever really talked before.

When I was in my worst depression, people would tell me, “It’s going to get better.” I would get so tired of hearing that but, as weird as it sounds, it’s true.

But you have to want to get better. I’ve learned that you can’t expect to get better by doing nothing. You have to want to be happy and believe that you have potential and a future. It’s important to remember that you are loved by so many people, including your Heavenly Father. They are all there to help you.

I never thought I would be as happy as I am now. Some days I still struggle, but with the tools Heavenly Father has given me, I can handle it. Now when I feel myself slipping into depression, I tell myself I am loved, I have people to talk to, and things will get better.

In the fall when I returned to BYU I decided I wanted my dad to be there when I was baptized, so my baptismal date was arranged at a time when he would be in town to see one of our games. I’ll never forget my baptism. It was the happiest day of my life. Bob baptized me, and Coach LaVell Edwards confirmed me. And then, with tears running down his cheeks, my dad put his arm around me and said, “I’m really proud of you, son. I love you.”

One missionary, Matte Te?o, was severely burned before leaving Samoa, but he came to Hawaii anyway. Doctors feared his charred hand might need to be amputated. Many of his fellow missionaries prayed for him. While in the temple, Brother Te?o cried out to the Lord, “Touch this hand.” “Fix this hand so I can help whatever little bit I can.” He began to heal immediately. Today his hand bears no scar. He now serves as a sealer in the Laie Hawaii Temple and says, “This temple … has a powerful influence throughout these communities not only here, but throughout the Pacific” (in Christensen, Stories of the Temple in L??ie, Hawai?i, 328–330).

A woman who took refuge in a Mormon chapel during the typhoon found out afterward that her home had been destroyed when coconut trees fell on it. She and her family did not have the means to fix it, but volunteers helped her to build a new house, and she is now helping another family to construct a home. “I learned to work together with those who are also in need here, so we can recover from [the typhoon] together,” she said.

Clara McMaster was the eleventh child in her family, and she learned to love music at an early age. She sang and accompanied others on the piano as she grew up in Brigham City, Utah. For twenty-two years she was a member of the Tabernacle Choir. Today she and her husband sing together for numerous church occasions. “Music is a rich gift of God, and it is in the world to make the lives of His children happier and better.” Sister McMaster says.
When serving on the Primary General Board, Sister McMaster was asked to write a song for the first reverence program. She worked hard and prayed that she would be prompted to write what would be best for the children. One day as she was looking out the window and pondering her assignment, an idea came to her. She went to the piano and quickly wrote it down. The new song was “Reverently, Quietly.” “I felt very humble,” she said. “If you prepare and do all that you can do, then Heavenly Father will help you.”

Brother Desmurs ended his portion of the tape recording by saying that he wished there were some way to tell all missionaries how important their work is, and not to get discouraged. He said they had found a member who had a picture of me, hung it in their living room, and asked every new missionary who came to Versailles if they knew me.
Brother Desmurs assured me that I would always be dear to their family because I had helped to plant the gospel seed, even though his own “soil” had not been very fertile at the time and the nurturing and harvesting had come much later. The family members each spoke in turn, thanking me and praying for the Lord’s blessings upon me.
As I finished listening to the recording, deeply affected by the words I had heard, I opened the French Book of Mormon they had mailed along with the tape. Inside was a picture of the Desmurs family along with their written testimony—a witness they had shared in this way with many of their countrymen.
I smiled through my tears. My missionary labors had gone full cycle. It had all begun with my own testimony of the Book of Mormon; no one knows where it will end. Indeed, how little any of us realize the effect our actions can have on the lives of others.

I sometimes respond by citing a story that is told about the Church when a federal army was sent out here to harass the Saints. The Brethren had decided on a policy of irritation without violence. In keeping with that policy Porter Rockwell and Lot Smith were dispatched to a distant army camp where Lot Smith was to secretly and quietly remove the pins from the army’s wagon wheels while Porter Rockwell was to drive off all the army’s horses. In the dark of night, Lot was busily taking out wagon wheel pins, and Porter war-whooped into the camp and drove off all the horses, including Lot Smith’s. Lot later walked wearily many miles back to Church headquarters and reportedly said, “Brethren, we’ve just got to get correlated.” Today’s correlation challenges are different, but the basic need remains.

Visiting teaching is also a very effective tool in retention and reactivation efforts. A young single adult sister shared the following:
“While reading the First Presidency Message from the Ensign, I was reminded of my visiting teaching assignment. My companion was a good friend of mine, but we always seemed to have conflicting schedules. That morning I decided to just make the calls to our sisters, schedule a time, and hope that it would work with my companion’s schedule. Unfortunately, my companion was unable to make it. I asked a couple of my roommates to join me for those visits, but no one was available. Knowing that doing my visiting teaching alone wasn’t ideal, I thought about calling to cancel but decided it was better to make visits by myself than let another month slip by without visiting our sisters.
“I arrived at Alejandra’s home and nervously approached her door, not knowing if I would recognize her. She had been very friendly on the phone, so I imagined it was a sister I had seen at church. Alejandra greeted me with a warm hug and a big smile. It was a new face! During our conversation, Alejandra shared her desire to start going to church again and said she had been hoping for some kind of visit for the past few months. She stated that this was the first time she had ever received a visiting teacher. We talked about some gospel principles and shared our impressions of that month’s Visiting Teaching Message. She committed to going to church that week. Sure enough, she did (she even brought her boyfriend)!
“Since then, Alejandra and I have become good friends. I am no longer her visiting teacher, but we visit much more than once a month. Alejandra attends church and family home evening regularly and is attending institute.
“I now have a stronger testimony of visiting teaching than ever before. I am grateful for the guidance of the Holy Ghost and His subtle prompting that would lead me to such a kind and loving friend like Alejandra. We were equally strengthened from this experience, and we both needed it for our spiritual progression.”

Four years ago Jimmie discovered a new heritage. Through entertaining, he met a member of the Church. They became friends, and she invited him to go to church with her. He enjoyed the meetings and soon he began talking with the missionaries.
“I found out all about the Church. I was more active than some members,” he says. Finally after two years Jimmie decided he was going to get baptized.
“I had the object one week to pray about it. I did pray, and sincerely. I think that was the big difference. I prayed sincerely because I did want to know if the Church was true. An answer came. I mean it was really strong—very, very strong.
“Before, I was expecting an answer straight away when I was praying. This time I waited. I didn’t have to wait very long. Once I had the feeling, I knew there was no way I could deny it. Just no way at all.
“My parents weren’t too keen on my decision at first. I had been brought up in the Church of Scotland. My mother was slightly hurt, but my father was just concerned I was doing the right thing. I asked them to come to my baptism, and they were there on the front row seats.
“My brother disowned me. He just didn’t want to know me at all. But now he’s great about it. If he hears anyone saying anything bad about the Church or my being a Mormon, he’ll jump to my defense. It’s heartwarming. It’s good to see him stand by me as my parents do.”
Jimmie shares with his family the things that happen at church each weekend. “If I have a calling they seem quite pleased. They know the Church is quite a big part of my life.”
He was attracted to the Church because he had many of the same values it teaches. “I’m a firm believer in doing unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
When he started studying with the missionaries, he was already living the Word of Wisdom. “As a teenager I drank, but only because all my friends were drinking. I realized that to be one of the boys you didn’t have to drink. They respected me eventually because of it.”
Jimmie is proud of his new-found heritage as a Latter-day Saint and strives to share it with others by his example. He blends his new beliefs with the Highland traditions of his homeland to show others what it means to be a Scottish Latter-day Saint.

“I found you!” shouted Ellen* as she discovered me behind the shower curtain. Then she tagged me on the shoulder and ran off. I got up from where I was crouched and went downstairs. I was at my friend Ellen’s party. About six other fourth-grade girls were also there.
“I found everyone!” Ellen exclaimed from the family room.
“Dinner,” her mother called.
Soon all the girls and Ellen’s four-year-old brother, Kyle*, sat around the big oak table, eating pepperoni pizza.
“Who wants to watch a movie?” Ellen’s mother cheerfully asked when we were all done eating.
“Me!” all the girls chorused—except me.
“I picked it out, Ellen,” Kyle cried with excitement. “Remember? It’s the one where the guy sings in the bathroom.”
As Ellen’s mother put in the video, I asked quietly, “What’s it rated?”
“PG,” she said absently, sitting down.
“Well, I’m only allowed to watch G-rated movies,” I said.
“It’s OK,” Ellen’s mother reassured me. “It’s only rated PG because parts of it are kind of difficult for children Kyle’s age to understand.”
I turned away. I knew my parents did not want me to watch a PG movie. Ever since I could remember, we’ve had this rule in our family: We watch only G movies. Even my parents watch only G movies. We know that all PG movies have some bad words in them, or other things that don’t fit gospel standards.
My parents had also told me that even if I said I wasn’t going to say the bad words, the more I heard them, the more my mind would be filled with them until I said one by accident. But this was the first time I’ve ever had to make a choice about watching a PG movie with a bunch of friends around.
I left and went into another room. In a few minutes Ellen and three other girls joined me and asked me if I wanted to play a game. I shook my head and answered, “Not right now.” After thinking a little bit more, I decided I should play the game with them. I realized that making the decision to not watch the movie hadn’t really been very hard for me. I also found out that I had really made the decision to follow the family rules long ago.

As I reflected on the message I wanted to share today, I was reminded of an experience my mother-in-law, Helen Thomas, had a few years ago. She noticed that her vision was deteriorating. The images she saw were becoming increasingly blurred and faint. Finally she scheduled an eye exam and was told she had cataracts. Fortunately she was able to have corrective surgery, which restored her vision. My mother-in-law was so excited after the operation, she said, “I hadn’t realized how much my eyesight had changed. I have not been able to see this well for years. My vision must have changed just a little bit at a time.”

I have fond memories of the day of my baptism when I was eight years old. It was performed in the Liniers Branch, the first chapel of the Church built in South America. After my baptism, as I was returning home along with my family, my oldest brother started wrestling with me, as he often did. I exclaimed, “Do not touch me! I cannot sin!” As the days passed, I realized that it was not possible to remain sinless for the rest of my life.

My final suggestion is somewhat like the second, but takes it a step further. I would suggest that you not only study the words of the Lord and seek his guidance, but also that you do the work of the Lord. God has so organized his work that every worthy disciple may participate, and I don’t think that is accidental. As we fulfill callings, serve in the temple, minister as part of the relief society or priesthood quorums, do missionary work, or serve in whatever other capacity to bring our fellow men to Christ and make their lives more fulfilling, the Lord will guide our efforts, and that comes with the corresponding support of the Holy Ghost. When we are in our darker hours, it can be difficult at times to feel the influence of the Spirit. But the scriptures are replete with promises that the Lord will help us when we are on his errand. We are told, for instance, that when we teach, we do it by the Spirit of Truth. “Wherefore he that preacheth and he that receiveth, understand one another and both are edified and rejoice together” (D&C 50:22). When I was experiencing one particularly low time, I was called to be a teacher in the Sunday School, teaching the youth church history. Some of my favorite moments were when I was teaching those lessons. I was able to rejoice with them for a moment here or a moment there. And lest you think that you don’t have the sort of calling that will let you seek the Lord’s help in that way, remember that everyone teaches in the church, and everyone does the Lord’s work. Fathers and mothers, you teach your children. I know there have been times I have been greatly thankful for the opportunity to teach my children because it meant the Lord would be there to help me and the spirit would testify of what I was teaching. And we get the help of the Lord in countless other ways as we labor in the kingdom.

The second lesson was learned several years later when we were more financially secure. Our wedding anniversary was approaching, and I wanted to buy Mary a fancy coat to show my love and appreciation for our many happy years together. When I asked what she thought of the coat I had in mind, she replied with words that again penetrated my heart and mind. “Where would I wear it?” she asked. (At the time she was a ward Relief Society president helping to minister to needy families.)

Then she taught me an unforgettable lesson. She looked me in the eyes and sweetly asked, “Are you buying this for me or for you?” In other words, she was asking, “Is the purpose of this gift to show your love for me or to show me that you are a good provider or to prove something to the world?” I pondered her question and realized I was thinking less about her and our family and more about me.

After that we had a serious, life-changing discussion about provident living, and both of us agreed that our money would be better spent in paying down our home mortgage and adding to our children’s education fund.

“My father was a very precise, strong-willed person who believed in hard work. Pride and service were his trademarks. All of us children earned spending money by doing assigned jobs. I can’t remember ever asking my father for a new bike, a baseball glove, or some candy when he didn’t say, ‘Fine. Let’s work out a plan so that you can earn it.’ I grew up believing in the philosophy of work. Sometimes I have a difficult time understanding young people today who expect everything to be given to them without their earning it.
“When I was a boy, one of my assignments was to keep the front and back lawns mowed and trimmed. One hot summer day when I was pulling weeds along the back fence, my father came out into the yard to see how I was doing. He said, ‘Well, it’s not quite up to standard, Paul.’
“I answered, ‘Who cares? Nobody’s going to see it back here anyway.’
“My father responded, ‘The important thing, Paul, is that you and I know it’s here, and that’s all that matters.’
“I have never forgotten that lesson.”

Such diligence in scripture reading had not been a long-established habit in our family. Perhaps we were not much different from many other families in the Church when it came to studying the scriptures. We knew we should study the scriptures; we wanted to study the scriptures, but we had never had much success in our attempts. Finally, we decided to dedicate ourselves to gaining a habit of scripture reading. To help us in achieving this goal, we adopted an approach presented by Carvel Whiting, our stake Sunday School president.
His method was simple. He made the habit of reading something each day the primary objective of his program. The goal was to establish an attitude, to raise the scriptures in our awareness. He did not specify how much we should study each day, nor did he suggest that we study in a specific way. We were simply encouraged to read the scriptures every day, no matter how briefly, and to keep a record of how many consecutive days we had read, even if we read only one verse.
Using this simple approach, we could read a few verses or ten pages on any given day. We could read through the scriptures chapter by chapter, or we could study topics. We could use this time to read our assignment for next week’s Sunday School lesson. We could vary from time to time—reading the chapters in sequence, but occasionally skipping to another section of the scriptures or focusing on a specific topic. We could even set a secondary goal to read a chapter a day (or half an hour, or five pages), but if we did not always meet that secondary goal, we were still having success and maintaining our daily scripture study habit as long as we read even one verse during the day.
We found that keeping a record of the number of consecutive days we read gave us a useful and flexible system for motivation and positive reinforcement. Specific numbers of consecutive days (for example, 10 days, 30 days, 50 days, 100 days, 200 days, 365 days) could be identified as milestones, at which we earned some form of reward or recognition in the family. The frequency and nature of the rewards could vary according to the age or maturity of the participants. For example, we had a fairly young family, so we had some type of simple treat every ten days for the younger children.
The program gave our family the motivation we needed to get started. During the first two years we used this approach, our family missed reading the scriptures together only twice. Three of us have passed the 365 day mark, and the record in our family for an individual is held by our oldest son, Tommy, who read 446 consecutive days before missing—during the time he was eight and nine years old. Our two oldest children, Lori and Tommy, have now read the Book of Mormon, the Pearl of Great Price, and the book of Genesis, and are well into the New Testament.

A world-renowned physician and professor at a prominent medical school came to my office when I had been serving only a month or two as a mission president. “President,” he said, “I am going to join your church. I am terribly busy. I must teach, I carry a heavy program of research projects, and at the present time I am revising my textbook. (He had written a textbook on his specialty that was used in most medical schools.)
“I already know the Church is true, but I don’t want to join and then not be the kind of member I should be. I know you are also a physician, so I want to ask you this question: Can I be a good Mormon and still be a good physician?”
I assured him that I had never found a conflict between my profession and my commitments as a servant of the Lord. Many years previously, when I was set apart as a member of a high council, I had been promised by Elder Alma Sonne, who did not know I was a doctor, that I would never experience a conflict if I were to accept willingly any calling that was given to me.
As this eminent professional and I talked, I could not resist asking the question: “Doctor, with your scientific background, how did you handle the Joseph Smith story?”
“I will admit that the story sounded utterly incredible to me at first,” he said. “But then I thought that if this man Joseph Smith truly were a prophet, his work should verify that fact. I proceeded to look up, read, and study everything I could find that Joseph Smith had ever written.
“I was amazed at the wisdom that had come from this uneducated, unlettered young man in the short time he had lived. Surely he could not have written any of this wisdom unless he was what he claimed to be—a prophet of God! Only God could have been his tutor.”
I could not resist asking the natural sequel to my first question. “How,” I asked, “did you handle the Book of Mormon?”
His answer was very matter-of-fact. “I read it and put it to the test” (see Moro. 10:4), he said. “Can you think of a better explanation than the one Joseph Smith gave?”
For me his answer summarized a basic premise: The Book of Mormon and the other scriptures are not on trial. We are. The proof of their divinity lies within them. A testimony of their truthfulness is ours for simply reading them prayerfully.

It was time to clean Leslie’s room. “You vacuum the floor, Leslie,” Mother said cheerfully, “and I’ll tidy and dust.”
Leslie couldn’t return the smile. As her mother lifted things to dust and straighten, Leslie felt uncomfortable. She tried to reassure herself that it was hidden so well no one could find it. While pushing the vacuum back and forth over the carpet, Leslie watched her mother anxiously. Surely Mom won’t choose today to dust all the books on my shelf! she agonized.
Leslie recalled the day she’d seen the glittering gold bracelets displayed on the jewelry counter of the department store. They’d looked just like the ones her friends were wearing. “Look, Mom,” she had said to her mother, who was hurrying to the shoe department. “These are the bracelets I was telling you about. Suzanne and Tena already have some.”
Leslie’s mother stopped for a moment and glanced at the bracelets. Then she frowned. She was thinking of the dinner she had yet to prepare. If she were delayed too long, her husband would be late for his meeting that night. “I’m sorry, Leslie, but we don’t have money for things like that,” she said. She felt frustrated. There never seemed to be any money left after paying bills to buy extra things for the children.
While her mother hurried on to look at shoes, Leslie lingered at the jewelry counter, admiring the bracelets. She could picture in her mind how pretty one would be on her arm. The clerk was on the other side of the carousel with her back turned, waiting on a customer. Leslie quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching. Then she slipped a bracelet off the rack and into her pocket.
Although her heart was thumping like her dog’s tail against the door when he wanted in, Leslie could hardly wait to see how surprised Susanne and Tena would be tomorrow when she wore the new bracelet to school.
All the girls will envy me, she daydreamed. A smile moved across her face as she hurried to find her mother.
When she got home that day, Leslie looked around her room to find a safe hiding place. Behind the books on her bookshelf seemed like a place no one would disturb. She pulled the bracelet from her pocket. A tiny price tag marked $15.00 dangled from it.
Leslie stared at the bracelet. She finally admitted to herself that she had done wrong. Her mother and father had always stressed honesty. She could remember her mother once telling a clerk that she hadn’t been charged enough for an item. Mom would feel so ashamed of me if she knew!
It’s done now, she decided and put the bracelet behind a thick book.
Each morning when she was ready to leave for school, Leslie took the bracelet from its hiding place. She was careful to keep the bracelet in her coat pocket until she was out of sight of her house. Each afternoon when she returned from school, she repeated the deception. But the thought that she had stolen something depressed her.
It was getting harder to say her prayers each night. When she asked Heavenly Father to forgive her for sins and mistakes, she could almost see the bracelet glowing accusingly from behind the books. I’m a thief! she thought. The thought frightened her.
And Leslie was frightened now for a different reason. Her mother had started taking books from the bookshelf and was methodically dusting each one. Leslie could feel the blood rushing to her head as her mother took out the thick book and saw the bracelet.
Leslie’s mother stopped dusting and slowly turned to face her daughter. “Where did this come from?”
It was difficult for Leslie to begin. But once she started, the words came as freely as the tears that rolled down her face. Her mother’s eyes seemed to penetrate her soul.
In a voice that sounded like it came from a stranger, Leslie heard herself say slowly, “I guess … I’m a thief. Oh, Mother, I’m so sorry!”
Leslie’s mother opened her arms and hugged her daughter. “You made a mistake, Leslie. You took something that belongs to someone else.”
With an arm still around her, Mother pulled her down to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to tell you something I haven’t shared with anyone since I was about your age.
“When I was a girl growing up on a farm in Montana, there weren’t any children living close-by. So, of course, I often felt lonesome. A lady living on the other side of one of our fields became my best friend. Her name was Delfina.
“Whenever I was bored, I would head for Delfina’s one-room home. There wasn’t much furniture in her house, but if I took off my shoes, I could sit on her bed. Then she would share the contents of her jewelry box with me.
“It was the most beautiful jewelry box I had ever seen. In fact, it may have been the only one I had ever seen—shiny ebony, inlaid with mother-of-pearl. To me it whispered of an exciting world I had only read about in books. Its red lacquered interior was filled with tiny trinkets and jewelry.
“One day I went to visit Delfina, but she wasn’t home. I opened her door and went inside anyway. For a while I played with her trinkets. Then instead of putting all the jewelry back into the box, I put some of it into my pocket. When I arrived home, Mom discovered the jewelry. She asked me where I’d gotten it. When I told her I had taken it from Delfina, she said, ‘I know you probably wanted to have something of Delfina’s because she is your friend. If these things are special to you, think how precious they must be to her! Of course, stealing is wrong, no matter whom you steal from. The important thing now is what you’re going to do about it.’
“As I walked back across the field, I looked for every excuse I could find to take more time. Delay as I might, my feet finally took me to her door. Shame and fear overcame me as I knocked.
“When she answered, I looked down at the floor. In a quavering voice I told Delfina what I had done. ‘I’m glad you brought them back,’ she said. ‘They’re keepsakes that belonged to my mother. We all make mistakes. I’m sure you won’t do it again.’
“Then to cheer me up, she fixed my favorite treat of chocolate milk made with corn syrup and cocoa. As I sipped it, I felt as though a heavy load had been lifted from me.”
Mom patted Leslie’s hand. “So you see, dear, we all make mistakes. The important thing is to recognize our mistakes, make amends, and then do better.”
Leslie turned her eyes up to meet her mother’s. Reaching for the bracelet, she said, “Will you take me back to the store now?”