Gospel Story Finder

I was serving as a missionary when I met Susie (name has been changed). She and her family had been taught the gospel by two missionaries who worked in the mission office with me. They had received all the lessons and had accepted the invitation to be baptized and confirmed. It was my privilege to interview this wonderful family of four: mother, father, younger brother, and Susie.
I had completed the baptismal interviews for the other three family members and had found them wonderfully prepared and excited to be part of the Lord’s kingdom. But when Susie walked in, she seemed quiet and somewhat hesitant to meet with me.
I began asking questions about what she had been taught. She knew the story of the Prophet Joseph Smith and believed it; she had read the Book of Mormon and knew it to be true; and she accepted the Church as the only true and living Church on the earth and wanted to be part of it. I asked Susie about her willingness to live the law of tithing, the Word of Wisdom, and other commandments. She said she understood these and was willing to live them for the rest of her life. Indeed, the interview was much like those I had had with the rest of her family.
Then I asked, “Can you tell me what the law of chastity is?” Her countenance immediately changed. I quickly recognized this must be why she seemed hesitant to meet with me. Before I could say anything, she covered her face with both hands, put her face and hands in her lap, and began to sob uncontrollably.
We sat without speaking for several minutes. I was unsure of what to say, and Susie could not stop sobbing. I prayed for the Lord’s help and asked Susie what was wrong. She finally lifted her face and told me that several weeks before meeting the missionaries she and her boyfriend had done things the missionaries had taught her were wrong according to the Lord’s law. She had already told her boyfriend what she had learned and had told him she would no longer be involved in such a relationship. She had even suggested to him that he meet with the missionaries and hear what she now knew was true. Still, the guilt for having engaged in these acts weighed down her soul.
My heart hurt with hers. I wanted so much to help her because I felt that her remorse and her desire to do right and be baptized were sincere. At that moment, the answer to my prayer came clearly. I asked her, “Susie, would you like to be free of the guilt and pain of this sin?” Once again her hands covered her face, and her head bowed. She uttered only one word: “Yes.” Her tears came even more freely, and I consoled her by talking about the Atonement and how she could apply it to her life. I explained that one purpose of baptism and confirmation is to heal the souls of those who are sincere in repentance, and without question I found her to be sincere.
We completed the interview with a prayer. The Spirit of the Lord was clearly present, more powerfully than I had ever before felt in an interview.
My companion and I arrived at the chapel shortly before the baptism. There was no time to speak to Susie or her family prior to the service. After the singing and the talks, they were baptized—first her mother, then her father, then her brother, and finally Susie. She walked down into the font, and her smile told the story—the healing balm of the Master was working in her heart. As she came out of the water, tears were in her eyes and mine. Her smile was even bigger than before, and her countenance was radiant. I understood at that moment why the Savior taught, “Come unto me, all ye that … are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).
We spoke only briefly after the service. I welcomed the family as new members of the Lord’s kingdom. As I shook Susie’s hand, I wanted to tell her how much this experience had meant to me. I had repented in my life and felt the power of the Atonement, but I was grateful to have felt it more powerfully than ever before because of my association with her.
Joining the Church is a challenge in and of itself. Joining under such personally strained circumstances had to be an even greater challenge for Susie, as it is for many new members. But the Atonement of Jesus Christ made the challenge surmountable and led this wonderful daughter of God to conversion and a healing of the soul. It also taught an impressionable young missionary an important lesson about applying the Atonement in his own life.

Sister Paula Thomas of Sandy, Utah, discovered for herself that Heavenly Father does indeed speak to His children. She remembers:
“I was raised in a less-active home. Because of the influence of friends, I began attending Primary. When I was nine years old, my Primary teacher gave a lesson on personal prayer. I knew that I could pray at mealtimes and in meetings, but I had never thought of praying to Heavenly Father on my own.
“After the teacher dismissed our class, I approached her and asked her to teach me to pray. Kindly, she pulled out a piece of paper and began to write and talk at the same time. ‘You always begin by thanking Heavenly Father for all you have,’ she said, ‘and then you tell Him the desires of your heart. Is there something special you want to ask for, Paula?’
“I knew exactly what I wanted—I wanted to make my mother happy. I did not recall ever seeing her smile or laugh. Life was hard, and Mother cried often. I loved her so much that I would write poems, put on programs for her on Mother’s Day, and buy her gifts with my baby-sitting money. She was always grateful, but I knew her burdens were heavy.
“I left Primary that afternoon with those written instructions from my teacher. That night, when the house was quiet, I knelt at my bed and began my very first personal prayer. I prayed that I would be able to make my mother happy. I offered the same prayer every night for seven years.
“When I was 16, I received my patriarchal blessing from a patriarch whom I had never met. In my blessing he said: ‘Paula, the Lord has heard the prayers of your heart. A time will come in your life when you will be able to return with a deep feeling of love the gifts that have been so graciously given unto you by your mother. You will not only bring your mother happiness, you will give her the gift of joy.’
“As he was giving me the blessing, I received a powerful witness of God’s desire to communicate with us through personal revelation. Heavenly Father had heard my prayers, and He let me know he was aware of me.
“Years later, after my mother’s death, I went through the temple to receive sacred ordinances in her behalf. While there, I received an impression that I had truly given my mother the gift of joy—that day and on many other occasions.”

1 Always live the standards in the For the Strength of Youth pamphlet, and avoid “unholy places.” To enter the temple, we must be worthy. It helps when we stand in holy places now. That means avoiding places and times when we would be tempted to make wrong choices. I recall a story by President J. Reuben Clark Jr. (1871–1961), a counselor in the First Presidency, about his teenage daughter. She was leaving for a dance, and he said, “Have fun, my dear. Be back by midnight.” She replied, “Daddy, this is the night of the prom. We go to the dance and are not back until early morning.” President Clark responded, “Yes, I know that is what many will be doing. But you must be back before midnight.” She, then, in desperation said, “Daddy, you just don’t trust me!” To which he replied, “My dear, in the wrong place, at the wrong time, I don’t even trust myself. Be back by midnight.”

Sierra Leone was a sad place during my teenage years, but it was my home. For much of my life, my small West African country was torn by a civil war. The war affected everything. My family and I were constantly on the run, trying to escape the rebel soldiers. It was terrifying every time the rebels came through a city. Someone would see their torches approaching in the night, warn the others, and we would all run for the bush, grabbing whatever we could along the way.
About seven years after the war began, the rebels came to our city. My whole family was running to escape, but my parents, who were just a few steps behind me, were shot and killed. I was so sad to lose them, but I had to keep moving.
My brother, sister, and I moved to a safer place, and for a short while we were all right, but the rebels eventually hit that town, too. This time we didn’t have time to run away. My brother was taken and later killed. My sister and I were lined up outside with all the other women. The rebel soldiers were chopping limbs off of all the women in the line. We were all so frightened. Everyone was crying and praying—even people who had never believed in God before. I was not a member of the Church at the time, but I believed in God and prayed that His will would be done and hoped that He would find a way to save me.
My dear sister, who was several places ahead of me in line, had both of her legs cut off. But as the rebels reached the woman in front of me, our army came rushing in and the rebels ran away. I know that I was not better than the people who were in front of me or behind me, but I thanked God that I had been spared and prayed that I might understand His plan for me.

A few years ago, while I was sitting in sacrament meeting one Sunday, I felt particularly weighed down by my weaknesses and imperfections. I remembered a talk given by President Jeffrey R. Holland, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, who spoke about the significance of the sacrament:
“How ‘sacred’ and how ‘holy’ is [the sacrament]? Do we see it as our passover, remembrance of our safety and deliverance and redemption?
“… (The sacrament) should be a powerful, reverent, reflective moment. It should encourage spiritual feelings and impressions. As such it should not be rushed. It is not something to ‘get over’ so that the real purpose of a sacrament meeting can be pursued. This is the real purpose of the meeting.”
But I wasn’t sure how to make my experience in sacrament meeting like this.
At this time in my life, I felt that I was not thinking about the sacrament the way I really wanted to. Instead of focusing on Jesus Christ, I was distracted by every thought that drifted in and out of my head as the bread and water were passed. But on this Sunday, I wanted to feel the Spirit.
I thought about how the Savior, before beginning His Atonement, introduced His Apostles to the sacrament at the Last Supper.
This introduction to the sacrament was an intimate experience shared between Him and His Apostles. Sometimes I wish I could have witnessed it firsthand. I wish I could have gotten to know the Savior like His Apostles did.
So, after the bread was blessed, I prayed to Heavenly Father. I asked for forgiveness and to be made clean through Jesus Christ. I asked Him to help me keep my thoughts on the Savior and remember what this ordinance means for my life and for my covenants.
When I concluded my prayer, I thought about Jesus Christ’s life and all the stories about His earthly ministry, from His humble birth in Bethlehem to His glorious visit to the Americas. I thought of His Atonement and what that sacrifice means for me.
I started seeing how everything about the gospel is interconnected, with Jesus Christ being the centerpiece. After this sacrament meeting, I began to stay more focused on the Savior in my daily life. This change was gradual at first, but as the weeks passed and I continued to focus on Him, I understood what the prophet Isaiah meant when he said, “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool” (Isaiah 1:18).
Partaking of the sacrament while pondering the life of the Savior can bridge the gap between us and allow us to have an intimate experience with Him each week.
I know I can feel the Savior’s healing power and perfect love because I make time to focus on Him every day. He knows me personally! And focusing on Him has truly helped me enhance my understanding of His renewing power that I can access as I participate in the sacrament ordinance.
I know now that through Christ, we truly can be white as snow.

Prophets have charge for the whole earth, not just for members of the Church. I can report from my own experience how personally and devotedly the First Presidency takes that charge. As needs grow, the First Presidency has charged us to increase our humanitarian outreach in a significant way. They are interested in the largest trends and the smallest details.
Recently, we brought to them one of the protective medical gowns that Beehive Clothing sewed for hospitals to use during the pandemic. As a medical doctor, President Russell M. Nelson was highly interested. He didn’t want to just see it. He wanted to try it on—check the cuffs and the length and the way it tied in the back. He told us later, with emotion in his voice, “When you meet with people on your assignments, thank them for their fasting, their offerings, and their ministering in the name of the Lord.”

What possible effect can a 14-year-old have on home teaching? I’m just a kid. Who am I to be telling an elder to do his home teaching? Not just an elder, but an elder that I have never met or even seen at church. The only thing I knew about him was his name and that he was an ex-athlete.
I had been called to be a junior home teaching companion three months earlier and still had not visited anyone. It didn’t help that my two best friends were already active home teachers. One was assigned with his father and the other to a member of the elders quorum presidency. My own father was in the bishopric and at that time was not assigned as a home teacher. What could a 14-year-old companion do?
My feelings of guilt had to be Brother Jensen’s fault, I decided. He had been my deacons quorum adviser who taught us how important home teaching was. He also explained that as a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood, it was our duty to be faithful home teachers. He had warned us that we might have to remind and encourage a senior companion to do home teaching.
Well, my options were really very simple. I could continue to wait for my senior companion to call and do my best not to feel guilty, or I could go to his house, introduce myself, and arrange to go home teaching.
On the one hand, he was the senior companion. He was supposed to take charge, not me. Wouldn’t I be assuming too much authority by contacting him? He might even get offended. Better to wait, I thought. Then Brother Jensen’s words would come back to me again.
“If your senior companion doesn’t contact you,” he said, “then you must contact him and let that brother know you are ready to go home teaching.” He explained that if the senior companion still didn’t go home teaching, the responsibility would rest on that senior companion. Until we made the effort to go, we had to share in that failure.
I finally committed to go to my companion and introduce myself.
As I went to church that Sunday, I began to feel more and more nervous. What would my companion think? Would he laugh at me? Maybe he would get mad and run me off. I didn’t feel I could do it, but I had promised to follow through and make the attempt. If he responded negatively, then I would have at least done my part.
I normally walked home from church, passing my companion’s house on the way. As I neared his house, I forced myself up the driveway and said a prayer, very simple, very direct. “Lord, please help me.” My fears left me for the moment, and I quickly climbed the steps to the front door and knocked. I knew someone would answer because I could hear what sounded like a party going on inside. The fear was coming back, but it was too late to run. I had already knocked.
The door opened, and a woman asked me what I wanted. She may have been polite, rude, sensitive, or even abrupt. I don’t know because I was trying hard to remember what it was I was there for.
“Is Brother Johnson here?” I finally asked, timidly.
“Just a minute, please.” I thought I could hear laughter but wasn’t sure. I didn’t have time to breathe before a very tall man stepped to the door. He seemed none too friendly.
“Yeah?” he asked.
My eyes must have been big enough to cover my face. I’m sure he noticed I was scared because he started to smile a little. I calmed down just enough to utter my little prayer in my mind one last, desperate time.
“My name is John,” I began in a voice that didn’t sound scared to me, “and I’m your home teaching companion. I was wondering when we could go home teaching?”
I don’t know if he was amused or surprised, but he didn’t throw me off the porch. Good start, I thought.
He just smiled and said, “Give me your phone number, and I’ll call you back.”
I went home feeling pretty good. I felt that I had made a good effort, and if he didn’t call back, I could say I had tried. When I arrived home, I told my parents what had happened. I don’t think they expected me to get a call.
Later that night, I received a call from Brother Johnson, my companion.
“Can you go home teaching Tuesday at seven?” he asked.
“Uh, sure,” I stammered.
“I’ll pick you up then. Bye.” He hung up.
Tuesday night we went home teaching. I found out later he had called the elders quorum president after I had left his house that Sunday to get the names and phone numbers of the families we were assigned. He then called the families and made appointments.
That became our routine. On the third Sunday I would stop by his house, and then he would set up appointments. We rarely, if ever, missed anyone in the two years we were companions. We also became pretty good friends. Brother Johnson even came to church a couple of times. He said he just wanted to see the quorum president faint.
I learned two very important lessons. First, an Aaronic Priesthood holder can have a positive influence on home teaching. Second, a less-active brother can be the most active home teacher.
As a home teacher, Brother Johnson taught me a lot.

The corners were curled from frequent use. The pages were wrinkled and torn in places. The text was thoroughly marked, and notes were added to the margins. The blue cover was nearly separated from the other pages, and the gold lettering was beginning to lose its shimmer.
I couldn’t believe it. My Book of Mormon looked nothing like that. I had had mine since I was 9, and now that I was 18, my book still looked new. The cover, as well as the pages, were crisp and clean. The binding had barely been opened, and the few notes and markings I had made had little significance to me.
I had never seen a Book of Mormon so worn from use. My friend had not abused her book—she had studied the word in a way I simply couldn’t comprehend. I had read the book, and I had prayed about it. I truly felt it to be the word of God. Yet when I saw her Book of Mormon and the light in her eyes, I knew there was something more I could do with the words I had always taken for granted.
I began to pray that I would have the Holy Ghost with me as I read the Book of Mormon, and I began to read several times each day. I pondered the things I read and studied any verses I didn’t understand.
I found a scripture I had seen many times, but it had never before meant so much: “Feast upon the words of Christ; for behold, the words of Christ will tell you all things what ye should do” (2 Ne. 32:3). I had always read the word, but I had never before feasted on it.
Somewhere in my efforts I stopped merely glancing at the words and began to see the message. I looked forward to the time I spent with the Book of Mormon. It no longer was a chore; it became a blessing.
My Book of Mormon is still not as worn as my friend’s. The pages are still not as marked, and the cover is not as tattered from repeated use. But someday it will be. Jesus Christ truly does fill those who feast.

After Todd and I got engaged, my mom suggested that we go to the temple a lot as a way to prepare for our marriage. Todd and I decided it was a good suggestion. Sometimes Todd performed baptisms with me, and sometimes he went to an endowment session while I participated in baptisms.

Todd and I were sometimes so busy we thought we wouldn’t have time to go to the temple. We had work and school and wedding preparations, but we wanted to go to the temple. Once we went to the temple instead of a football game that we had tickets to because we didn’t have any other time to go.

The blessings have been amazing. When I do baptisms for the dead, I learn how the Spirit speaks to me. Being able to forget worldly things and focus on the Savior has been really good. Todd and I haven’t had struggles or felt tempted because we’ve been going to the temple so often.

Both of my parents served missions. At a young age I heard their mission stories and dreamt of the day when I would be able to serve the Lord as a full-time missionary.
Preparing for my mission was one of the most precious times of my life. I was closer to the Lord than ever before. I received my mission call to the Budapest Hungary Mission and entered the Provo Missionary Training Center (MTC), determined to give my all to my Heavenly Father.
Being at the MTC was an incredibly spiritual experience for me. As I grew closer to the Lord, I sincerely prayed that I was willing to do anything He asked and promised that I would love the Hungarians with my whole heart.
Near the end of my MTC experience, I became ill. After a short stint at home to recoup, I was given the opportunity to continue my mission to Hungary. I was placed with a wonderful trainer, Sister Sunshine Nestor, who taught me how to recognize the daily tender mercies and miracles of the Lord.
After a few months, I became ill again. Although Sister Nestor and I continued to work the best we could, I had to return home yet again.
In my mind I had let the Lord down because I had not served a “full” mission. I was convinced that there were still Hungarians that I “should have” taught if I hadn’t become sick. I wondered if I did not have enough faith to be healed because, after all, the Lord protects His missionaries. I had never considered that my sacrifice to the Lord would not be to give a year and a half of my life, but rather to sacrifice the kind of mission that I had anticipated.
As I walked off the plane coming home, I couldn’t help but think that I had left the most important work of my life behind in the mission field. It took time, but I learned that there was work at home that would bring my life meaning as well.

When I first became a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, I had the opportunity to accompany President N. Eldon Tanner, a counselor to President David O. McKay, to a stake conference in Alberta, Canada. During the meeting, the stake president read the names of four brethren who had qualified to be ordained elders. These were men whom President Tanner knew, for at one time he had lived in that area. But President Tanner knew and remembered them as they once were and did not know that they had turned their lives around and had fully qualified to become elders.
The stake president read the name of the first man and asked him to stand. President Tanner whispered to me, “Look at him. I never thought he would make it.” The stake president read the name of the second man, and he stood. President Tanner nudged me again and reported his astonishment. And so it was with all four of the brethren.
After the meeting, President Tanner and I had the opportunity to congratulate these four brethren. They had demonstrated that men can change.

My friends also set a good example for me when they chose to serve missions. Although I faced some opposition, I decided I also wanted to serve a mission. That decision has shaped the rest of my life. When I served in the Samoa Apia Mission, the missionaries carried much of the priesthood leadership responsibilities, and I could see that the Church in the islands needed to be strengthened. I made up my mind to do my part—I would return to Samoa after finishing my mission and my education.

After graduation from college, my wife and I moved to Samoa, where we raised our children and worked to strengthen the Church and the community. My father, not a member of the Church, was actively involved in local business and community affairs. His motto was “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right.” As my siblings and I discovered the gospel and lived it to the best of our abilities, he noticed the changes for good in our lives. In 1999, President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) stayed in my father’s home on his return from the groundbreaking of the Suva Fiji Temple. During that visit, the Spirit touched my father’s heart, and I was privileged to baptize him when he was 80 years old. He found great joy in the gospel and was unashamed and bold in sharing it with others during the last days of his life.

I know the importance of being an example of the believers and the happiness it brings into our lives and the lives of others. Because of my friends’ good examples and the love of a prophet, my family and I have been blessed with the joy the gospel brings.

Every day we influence others by our actions. Let us be sure to reach out to others and share the truth of this scripture that it may bring happiness to their lives too: “Remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall” (Helaman 5:12).

Julie (names have been changed) was smart. She set a financial plan in motion when she was in her 30s and stuck to it. “If you’re talking to your children or grandchildren about finances, remind them that they need to start setting money aside when they’re young,” she says. “That way they can build a reserve over time and earn interest too.”

But Julie’s number-one rule is “I always pay my tithing first.” Over the years, she says, “the Lord has opened the windows of heaven to me in more ways than I can number” (see Malachi 3:10). She quotes President Russell M. Nelson: “Your investments in tithing will continue to pay rich dividends—here and hereafter.”1

Julie, who lives in California, USA, had health insurance to help pay for her husband’s healthcare costs and money saved for funeral expenses. After he passed away, she continued to work until she felt she had sufficient for her needs. Now that she’s retiring, she owns her own home and has a little money set aside for a mission. She looks forward to visiting each of her children and taking grandchildren to the theater and museums. “I’m not wealthy,” she says, “but I have enough money to make great memories with my family.”

As a Montana rancher for most of my 70 years, I treasure the parable of the good shepherd, found in John 10:1–18, for I have lived it. The following experiences were particularly powerful in bringing this parable to life.
In biblical times each shepherd vocally summoned his personal flock from the many herds pooled together into a nighttime sheepfold (see vv. 3–4). Likewise, whenever I move my sheep, I simply call, and they follow.
Years ago my spry 96-year-old neighbor, Alice, who also raised sheep, became ill during lambing season, so I offered to do her night lambing. When I entered her lambing shed my first night “on duty,” Alice’s nearly 100 ewes were peacefully bedded down for the night. Yet when I appeared, they immediately sensed a stranger in their midst. Terrified, they instantly sought safety by huddling together in a far corner (see v. 5).
This continued for several nights. No matter how quietly I entered, the sheep panicked and fled. I spoke soothingly to the newborn lambs and ewes as I tended them. By the fifth night they no longer stirred as I worked among them. They had come to recognize my voice and trust me.
Sometime later I told Alice I would feed her dozen or so bum lambs their bottles. (A bum lamb is one whose mother has died or cannot produce enough milk.) Imitating Alice, I called to her lambs, “Come, BaBa! Come, BaBa!” I expected the lambs to hungrily stampede me as they did her. But not a single lamb even glanced up. Alice then stepped out her kitchen door and called. Hearing her voice, they eagerly rushed toward her, clamoring for their milk.
Intrigued, Alice and I conducted an experiment. Standing in my corral, Alice mimicked my call: “Here, lamby, lamby! Here, lamby, lamby!” and received no response whatsoever. But when I called with the exact same words, my sheep quickly surrounded me. Even though the words we used to summon the sheep were identical, our unfamiliar voices went unheeded. The sheep loyally heard only their true shepherd (see v. 4).

It happened by accident—literally.
After his wife hit a car in the parking lot at Caesar Rodney High School in Delaware, where they are both teachers and coaches, basketball coach Jeff Savage offered to pay for the damage.
“I told the young man who owned the car to get two estimates for the work to be done and I would give him a check for it,” says Coach Savage. He pretty much forgot about the incident, until the boy returned and gave him a check for $100.
“He told me the work had cost $100 less than the estimate, and that I should have the difference back. I was so impressed with this act that I told my team.”
After practice, three LDS boys on the team, Frankie Victory, Mark Lee, and Jason Badell, told him the boy was a member of the LDS church and had returned the money because he knew it was the right thing to do.
That small incident aroused the coach’s curiosity, a curiosity the boys were prepared to satisfy with missionary work.
The boys never missed an opportunity to show the coach how much they loved their religion. One day, for example, during a difficult practice, priest Mark Lee seemed to be having trouble holding on to the ball.
“I said ‘Lee, hold on to that ball like it was the Book of Mormon.’ Mark caught the next five passes,” says Coach Savage.
At the end-of-the-year basketball banquet, Frankie, Mark, and Jason, seized another opportunity to share their religion. They presented their coach with a gift, a Book of Mormon.
“We hope you’ll hold on to this book like you would hold on to a basketball,” read the inscription from the three boys.
The coach did more than that. Not only did he hold on to the book; he read it and believed it. Not long after he received his gift, he and his family were baptized.
Whether serving the Lord full-time, as Frankie is now doing in Tempe, Arizona; awaiting a mission call like Mark; or simply setting an example for their friends and teachers at school like Jason, these boys know the meaning of the phrase “Every member a missionary.”

One pair of sensitive visiting teachers visited the young family of a recently graduated dental student. The family had, through self-sacrifice and stringent budgeting, endured the hard years of schooling required of the husband. As the sisters visited the mother the noticed that the soles of the shoes of the young children playing on the floor were completely worn through and would give scant protection to their little feet. This was confidentially reported to the Relief Society president, and the parents were persuaded to accept a little help until the young father could begin earning.

Of all the ways Relief Society furthers the welfare cause, its best effort comes as it helps individual sisters anticipate and meet their own needs, for welfare problems are most effectively solved before they become problems. Therefore, when you, the individual member, put into daily practice the principles of welfare, you are personally reducing the woe of the world. When you add to your home storage, particularly with goods you have produced by your hands, in your garden, with your needle, or in your kitchen, you are addressing welfare needs in the most effective way. When preventive health care, good nutrition, and financial management are practiced by you, the individual sister, the welfare system is working. When you teach your children how to work—when you, as members, and your children become educated and engage in appropriate employment and careers—future problems are averted.

The emotional support and strength that you Relief Society sisters can provide one another can be as important, or more so, than food or shelter. The husband of a sister recently lost his job. In relating the experience, she said the family was financially somewhat prepared, in that they had food storage and some money saved. But they were not prepared for the emotional shock of unemployment. The wife recalled that the single greatest help the family received to lessen the trauma of that experience was the love and sympathetic concern shown by the sisters of Relief Society.

In a Spiritual Living lesson a few years ago (1979–80, p. 42), we were told, “Fear that we haven’t enough energy, money, or other means can keep us from giving love.” We may think, “We can’t feed all the hungry, lodge all the homeless, nor comfort all who grieve … ; therefore, [we] will help no one.” (Ibid.) But Alma has told us that “by small and simple things are great things brought to pass.” (Alma 37:6.)

One dollar given for a welfare assessment or a fast offering, one day of volunteer service, a visit (even without the loaf of bread), multiplied by a million and one-half members, can relieve much suffering.

Thus, though frontiers of welfare needs stretch before us different in scope from those of 1842, but similar too, the challenge for Relief Society today remains as then: to search out the poor, to minister to their wants, to prevent problems by learning, teaching, and practicing the principles of welfare. The Lord spoke plainly when he told Joseph Smith:
“And remember in all things the poor and the needy, the sick and the afflicted, for he that doeth not these things, the same is not my disciple.” (D&C 52:40.)
I ask it in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I am convinced that families, even young children, can learn to love the scriptures. A few years ago when I was in Colorado Springs for a conference, I called on Mark McConkie, son of Elder and Sister Bruce R. McConkie, to address the question: “How did you develop a love for the scriptures?”

As I recall, he said: “I first developed a love for the scriptures from my mother. I remember she would teach me while she did her ironing. I felt how she loved the scriptures by the way she would speak about the prophets. How much she loved them! As I grew older, I would listen to the recordings of the scriptures. I wanted to know the scriptures like my father. Sometimes he would enter the room while I was listening and it would take him just a moment to identify the exact scripture I was listening to. I wanted to be able to do that.”

I have been in the Air Force for two and a half years and a member of the Church for two years. My wife has been a member all her life. Five months ago I was shipped off to Turkey. We have five members here and lots of time on our hands. My wife was unable to come with me, but she subscribed to the New Era for me. My spirit and morale have been lifted tremendously by the New Era. I wish to thank my wife and the New Era for all the inspiration I have received while being so far away from home.
Mark E. CardwellDijarbarkir, Turkey

“You want us to do what?” they asked. “For how long? Why?”
When she heard those questions, McKenzie McNaughton knew this project might be a challenge.
At the beginning of the school year, McKenzie, a senior and member of the student council at Washington Township High School in Deptford, New Jersey, hatched an idea. She wanted the entire senior class to spend one school day providing service in the community. Nothing too elaborate. Just a few hours sprucing up the place.
“I started thinking about what I wanted to give back to the school and what we could do,” she says. “I thought this would be a good way.”
And that’s how Washington Township’s Senior Service Day began.
Things got a little tricky when she presented the idea to her fellow students, however.
“In September, when I told the student body of my idea at the beginning of an assembly, they were excited,” McKenzie says. “But then what I was saying started to sink in. Before the assembly was over, a lot of guys were saying, ‘You’re not going to get us all to go and clean a park. We’re not going to do this.’
“And I’m still in the EFY, youth-conference mode,” McKenzie adds. “I’m thinking, ‘We’re going to get to clean together, guys. We get to rake. And we’re doing it for free!’ I had to finally realize that maybe everybody wouldn’t be as excited just to spend a day working.”
Those few negative responses didn’t diminish McKenzie’s enthusiasm for the project, though. It was now McKenzie’s job to get those naysaying students into, as she says, “the mode.”
Nine months later, and a week before they all graduated, approximately 500 of the senior class’s 600 students shuffled out of the school holding rakes and shovels to board buses headed for nearby parks and schools.
If there is one thing McKenzie knows, it’s service projects. If you’re a Latter-day Saint, they kind of come with the territory. Since McKenzie turned 12 and joined Young Women, she’s helped paint a preschool building, and she’s gone on her ward’s annual Christmas caroling excursions to local hospitals. “We also regularly visit nursing homes, and we’ve given Easter baskets to the Ronald McDonald House,” she says. And McKenzie isn’t even including her Young Women Value Experiences which consisted of—among other things—acquiring donated fleece and using it to make toys and pillows she then donated to the local women’s shelter.
Senior Service Day was a little different from those activities in one big way. This was McKenzie’s idea, and she had to make it happen. There was no Laurel adviser to coordinate everything. So to accomplish her goal, McKenzie had to inspire a bunch of students not experienced in service projects to pitch in. “I think my high school is full of good kids. This will work,” she said confidently the day before the event.
“When I do service, it makes me more grateful for what I have. It’s a ton of work, but I think you learn how to work. It’s so fun. You really like to work,” she adds.
McKenzie was also only one of two Church members in her senior class. She knew she was perceived as being different by her classmates. And coming up with the idea of Senior Service Day didn’t necessarily change their opinions. “Because I don’t go to the parties on Fridays, other kids will ask me what I like to do. Then they become curious. Once I went on a picnic with a couple of kids who I kind of knew but wasn’t really good friends with. We were just talking about stuff, and we ended up talking for an hour-and-a-half about the Church.” Serving others was one of the topics that day. Senior Service Day would give McKenzie the opportunity to practice what she preached.
Still, there was the little issue of instilling excitement in the other students about—ahem—the prospect of raking. There was also a lot of planning necessary to make the whole thing happen. “I didn’t realize how much work had to be put into it,” she says.
With the help of teachers and counselors who offered their help, and after postponing the day twice, June 1 finally came and everything was in order. McKenzie made sure of it, checking off each item one by one:
X The school district had furnished the buses to transport the students.
X Bus drivers volunteered their time.
X The township had approved the work in several different parks.
X The elementary and middle schools’ principals were enthusiastic about the service the students would provide.
X A local pizza restaurant had donated pizzas for the party afterward, and grocery stores had provided soda pop.
“I think it’s going to be great,” she said, the day before Senior Service Day would actually happen. Pizzas and cases of soda as enticements certainly couldn’t hurt.
Even with all the planning, the next morning McKenzie drove from place to place to make sure everything was coordinated and going according to plan. She found students who had descended on the sites, and she thought back to that first assembly. “I think they kind of didn’t get what we were trying to do in the very beginning. But after they thought about it, they realized it could be fun,” she says.
At one school, several girls hemmed the bottom of the frayed stage curtain. Outside, another group was picking up litter along a fence line. At a middle school, kids were spading and weeding a garden while others were—yes!—raking the courtyard lawn.
And later that morning at The Birches Elementary School sat McKenzie. She was reading to the second-graders who had crowded around a wooden rocking chair. Eleven years earlier, McKenzie had been in this classroom. Her teacher from back then was still teaching. As McKenzie looked at the new batch of seven- and eight-year-olds, she fondly remembered her days in the school.
The kids were attentive, listening as McKenzie read from a children’s book.
“It was so much fun being back in that classroom,” she says afterward. “This has gone so well.”
A few hours later, the students were back at the high school sitting around listening to music, eating pizza, and smiling about what they had accomplished.
“You want us to do what? For how long? Why?”
They now had their answers.
McKenzie no longer lives in New Jersey. She’s now a student at BYU in Provo, Utah. Senior Service Day is long since over.
“I’m glad we did it. I think it was a success,” she says.
Which just proves what can happen when everybody gets in the “EFY, youth-conference mode.”

“We think about the brothers and sisters who haven’t been to church. … Then we ask the person if we can have a branch family evening at their house.” — Ernesto Gabriel Manhique, Homoine Branch president
Illustrations by Dilleen Marsh
Less than a year after joining the Church, Ernesto Gabriel Manhique was called as the president of the newly created Homoine Branch in Inhambane, Mozambique. At the time, the branch was two years old and had about 20 members attending.
President Manhique wanted love to be the foundation of the branch. “Because of my experiences,” he said, “I decided to be a leader who cultivates friendship with the members and demonstrates my love for them.”
President Manhique said their branch council meetings focused on reaching those who had stopped attending church because they struggled to feel loved and valued. These discussions led to an activity they called “Friday night branch family evenings.”
“We plan it like this: We think about the brothers and sisters who haven’t been to church the previous Sunday or who haven’t been for a few Sundays,” said President Manhique. “Then we ask the person if we can have a branch family evening at their house that week.”
The branch gathers at the member’s home and invites the entire neighborhood. President Manhique explained that this helps the person or family to feel loved, valued, and wanted.
“Often, the member [who hosted] returns accompanied by neighbors, who enjoy the branch family evening and decide to attend church,” said President Manhique. The Homoine Branch now has over 250 members. Most attend church regularly.