Gospel Story Finder

Katherine Wilkinson, from Utah, often stayed out late on Saturday nights. She said of one weekend, “My friends and I had gone to dinner, watched a movie, and stayed up talking well into the morning. It was probably after 2:00 a.m. when I finally went to sleep.
“On Sunday morning, I fumbled in the darkness to turn off my alarm at 7:30 a.m. but since church didn’t begin until 8:30 a.m., my sleepy self reasoned that I could reset my alarm for 8:00 a.m. When I finally got up, I had to rush to get ready on time. A two-minute shower and no breakfast later, I rushed out the door.
“Church seemed long. I could hardly stay awake during the meetings. I watched the clock, counting down the minutes until I would be napping at home. Not until Sunday School began did I realize that, in my rush, I had forgotten both my scriptures and the manual.”
Eventually Katherine decided she wanted to change so that she could enjoy the Sabbath day and keep it holy. “I pondered on my Sabbath day,” she said. “I’d gotten up too late, rushed to church only halfway ready, endured three hours of meetings (without a good attitude), and come back home to sleep. And that was hardly the first time my Sunday had gone that way. I realized I was depriving myself of the full blessings of Sabbath-day worship, especially the sacrament and what it offered me.
“Observing the Sabbath includes more than physically attending Church meetings; it means being there mentally and spiritually. I want to do that. President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) taught, ‘The Sabbath calls for constructive thoughts and acts, and if one merely lounges about doing nothing on the Sabbath, he is breaking it. To observe it, one will be on his knees in prayer, preparing lessons, studying the gospel, meditating, visiting the ill and distressed, sleeping, reading wholesome material, and attending all the meetings of that day to which he is expected’ (The Miracle of Forgiveness [1969], 96–97). As I’ve begun to change and honor this sacred day, I have felt greater blessings in my life.”

Everyone knows that computers are useful tools. You can play games, send E-mail to friends, even type up term papers for your European history class. But Laurels in the Aliso Creek Ward, Santa Margarita California Stake, know an even better way to use a computer.
“I looked up my parents in the Ancestral File™ [at her local family history center] on the computer and found the names of thousands of my ancestors. It was really neat!” says 18-year-old Rebecca Hope.
Liz Chocco, another Laurel, prepared the names of two deceased family members and was then baptized for them in the San Diego Temple.
“The Spirit was so strong,” says Liz. “I felt that these two relatives were actually there. I felt an eternal bond with them. The phrase ‘families are forever’ became real to me in the temple.”

In 1900, Thomas J. Yates, a Mormon student attending Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, had an interesting conversation with the cofounder of that institution, Andrew Dixon White. Dr. White had served as U.S. foreign minister in Russia several years earlier and told Brother Yates of a visit he had had with the famous Count Leo Tolstoy. Tolstoy, as you know, is considered by many to be the greatest Russian philosopher, social critic, and novelist of all time. His best-known work, the lengthy classic War and Peace, has been read and viewed in movie form by millions the world over. The Russian movie version is six and a half hours long. It was so long, I’m told, they charged three different admission prices: one for those under twelve, one for those over twelve, and one for those who turned twelve during the movie. I don’t know if that’s really true or not.

According to Brother Yates’ recollection of what Dr. White told him concerning the exchange with Tolstoy, the great Russian scholar asked Dr. White to tell him about the American religion. Puzzled, Dr. White explained that we don’t have an American religion, “that each person is free to belong to the particular church in which he is interested.” Tolstoy is reported to have shown a little impatience in replying:

“I know all of this. . . . But the Church to which I refer originated in America, and is commonly known as the Mormon Church. What can you tell me of the teachings of the Mormons?”

“Well,” said Dr. White, “I know very little concerning them. They have an unsavory reputation, they practice polygamy, and are very superstitious.”

Then Count Leo Tolstoi . . . rebuked the ambassador. “Dr. White, I am greatly surprised and disappointed that a man of your great learning and position should be so ignorant on this important subject. . . . If the people follow the teachings of this Church, nothing can stop their progress—it will be limitless. There have been great movements started in the past but they have died or been modified before they reached maturity.”

And then, according to Yates via White, Tolstoy made this powerful prediction:

“If Mormonism is able to endure, unmodified, until it reaches the third and fourth generation, it is destined to become the greatest power the world has ever known.”

While some have questioned the accuracy of both White’s and Yates’ memories, it is clear that Tolstoy had an interest in Mormonism and referred to it in his journal, in print, and in conversation. One of Brigham Young’s daughters, Susa Young Gates, corresponded with him and sent him several books and pamphlets, including the Book of Mormon. It is also clear that this statement attributed to Tolstoy found its way into the speaking and writing of the Church in the early part of the century. After graduating from Cornell in 1902, Brother Yates returned to Utah, where he apparently shared the Tolstoy prophecy with various interested members of the Church, possibly including President Joseph F. Smith.

When Elder Neal A. Maxwell of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles was young, he wanted to be a basketball star. He was the best basketball player among his friends. In fact, he taught one of them how to play. But his friend grew very tall, and he did not. One of the hardest experiences of his young life was being cut from his school’s basketball team while his friend made it.
Because he did not succeed as a sports hero, Elder Maxwell turned to words. The personal tragedy of the moment turned out to be an eternal blessing for many Saints who have learned from his wisdom, spirituality, and insight.
Let his life be an example to you. Not all your prayers will be answered the way you’d like. But if you trust Heavenly Father, He will not betray that trust.

Approximately 50 Mormon Helping Hands volunteers—including members of the Church, their friends, and Latter-day Saint missionaries—mobilized on Saturday, January 21, 2012, to help clean, weed, and otherwise revitalize Maria Ivone de Menezes, a state school in Macapá, Brazil.
The activity, coordinated by the school board and organized by the Macapá Brazil Amapá District’s public affairs director, Kleber Sainz, drew attention and coverage from several local media outlets. The school’s director, Adelia Danin, assisted in the project. “We were delighted with the generous contribution [the Church] gave us,” she said. “We will always keep the memory of it with us.”

The other day as I watched the videotape Called to Serve, my eyes moistened in instant tenderness as each new missionary opened and read aloud with his family the official call to a full-time mission, signed by the President of the Church. I recalled my own mission call to Argentina. After sharing the excitement of my call with my parents, I sought out my mentor, who was not a member of the Church, a former U.S. senator, to share the news of my call with him. He was not impressed and let me know in no uncertain terms that if I insisted on serving a mission, upon my return all the good jobs would be taken and I would never amount to anything. I was disappointed but realized that he saw my future only as the world perceives.
Years later I realized that my mission had prioritized my life toward family, service, and gospel principles. As an added bonus, I was far ahead of most of my former classmates in worldly achievements.

To site one of many personal encounters, I noticed on the rolls one day a detainee with the first name Omni. I thought, “Oh, he is LDS” and my prompting was “see him now.” When meeting with him, I found out otherwise. He was raised by a loving mother, without a father, in a tough neighborhood with no religion.
I asked, “How did you get your name, Omni?” He said, “Before I was born, my late grandfather had a dream in the night and told my mother, I was to be called Omni and that through my name I would find the truth to save myself, my family and ancestry.”
Wow! I told him that there was a Book of Omni (Book of Mormon) and would he be interested in reading it? “YES.” He also committed to me to read what comes before and after the Book of Omni.
In short, a young life, with a starving spirit, was transformed by the Gospel through the converting powers of the Book of Mormon. May I say, if we are willing to do our spiritual promptings, the Lord has many ways of pouring wisdom into our mind to prompt us, to guide us through new learning experiences, to give us more wisdom, help us expand our potential, and prepare us for what He wants us to become.

I am grateful for my ten brothers and sisters, all of whom have gone on missions. Two of my sisters, widows—one the mother of ten and the other the mother of eight—after sending their children on missions, talked to their bishops about going on missions themselves.
I well remember the day they called me on the telephone and said, “Guess what? We’ve received our missionary calls.”
I said, “What missionary calls?”
They replied, “Don’t you know?” (They expected the President of the Quorum of the Twelve to know everything!)
I said, “No, I hadn’t heard.”
They responded, “Yes, we’re both going to your old field of labor in England.”
I wished them well, and I wish you could have heard the reports of those two sisters as they returned from their missions.

Not long ago, one of our sons was married in the Idaho Falls Temple. We had assembled in the sealing room for the ceremony when the sealer asked me and the bride’s mother to bear our testimonies before he performed the marriage ceremony. As I spoke, I noticed that my oldest daughter was sobbing. Later, outside the temple, she told us that as I stood to speak, Matthew had entered the room accompanied by so much spiritual power that she could not control her feelings. As she was about to leave the room, lingering behind all the others, she had felt something warm touch her shoulder. A still, small voice had whispered, “That was your brother Matthew. He is the one who stood by your bed one night.”
The peace and joy this beautiful experience brought to us is inexpressible. What comfort there is in knowing that we are important to Matthew and that he cares about what we are doing, and to know that God loves us and has let us feel Matthew’s presence so that we can have that assurance.

When I was 14 years old, I began my first job, earning 2 U.S. dollars per hour as a construction laborer. The paycheck for my first week totaled 80 dollars. I wanted to buy an eight-track tape stereo, which was the newest music technology at the time. The full-function model I wanted cost 320 dollars. I excitedly shared with Mom and Dad my intent to purchase the stereo after completing four weeks of work.
My parents wisely taught, “It will take more than four weeks to earn enough money to buy that music player. You should express gratitude to God for His many blessings by paying 10 percent of your income as tithing. You will need to pay the government about 10 percent in taxes. And you should learn while young to obey the counsel of prophets in preparing financially for the future, including your mission; we suggest you set aside 30 percent of your earnings in a savings account.”
My teenage mind quickly calculated that if I did as my parents taught, I would have only 40 dollars each week to spend, which meant I would have to work at least two months to purchase my desired stereo. I found myself at a critical decision point—would obtaining material possessions be my priority, or would I sacrifice to pay tithing and set aside savings?
I decided at age 14 to pay an honest tithing for the remainder of my life. I determined to follow the prophet in saving money for my mission and future education. This experience also taught me to distinguish between wants and needs. I wanted the newest technology, but I did not need it. So I decided to buy a much less expensive model with fewer functions, and it was still performing well when I left on my mission.

Melvin Mouse jumped out of bed. “It’s morning,” he said. “Sleep’s done. I’m going to play with my ball today. I’m going to throw it and roll it and bounce it off the wall. That’s what I’m going to do today.”
Melvin pattered downstairs to eat the seeds and bread crusts Mama and Papa Mouse had ready for his breakfast. Then he went to find his ball. Was it in his closet? Was it on his rocker? Was it under his bed?
“It’s gone!” cried Melvin Mouse. “Where is it? Did someone take it?”
“Come, Melvin,” said Mama Mouse. “Stop and think. When was the last time you played with your ball? Where did you have it?”
“Think hard, Melvin,” urged Papa Mouse. “That’s what you must do.”
Melvin thought hard and finally he remembered. Yesterday he had played with his ball on the lawn by the house. He had rolled and kicked it to his favorite places. Now he knew where to look.
Melvin pushed his way through the grass to the stump of an old oak tree. Robin Redbreast was pecking at the stump, hunting for grubs. “Have you seen my ball?” Melvin asked the robin. “It’s round and smooth and has red stripes on it.”
Robin Redbreast twisted his head to look around. “No, I haven’t seen your ball,” he chirped. “But I’ll keep my eyes open for it.”
“That’s very kind,” said Melvin Mouse. He darted through the grass to a tall pine tree he liked to visit. A soft bed of old brown needles lay under it. The tree’s bottom branches tickled the ground. And resting under the branches was a young brown rabbit. She wiggled her nose at Melvin Mouse.
“Have you seen my ball?” Melvin asked the brown rabbit. “It’s round and smooth and has red stripes on it.”
The rabbit hopped to the left and to the right. She sniffed the pine-scented air. “Sorry. I haven’t seen your ball. It’s not in this bed of pine needles. Why don’t you sit and rest with me for a while?”
“Thank you,” replied Melvin Mouse, “but I’d better keep looking.” Melvin scurried through the grass to the porch steps at the back of his house. He was sure he would find his ball there!
The porch steps were old and creaky. Many feet had walked on them, and many things were lost under them. Just now a grasshopper came hopping down the stairs.
“Have you seen my ball?” Melvin asked. “It’s round and smooth and has red stripes on it.”
“I’ve been hopping around all morning, my friend, and I haven’t seen your ball. But let me take a peek under these old porch steps for you.”
The long-legged grasshopper hopped twice and landed on the ground, where a loose board allowed him to look under the steps. “Well,” said the grasshopper, “there’re a puzzle piece, a broken flowerpot, two pencils, and a bird’s nest with no eggs.”
“It’s no use!” cried Melvin Mouse. “My ball is lost. I thought hard, I remembered, and I looked where I played with it last. I even asked for help. But it’s lost, and I’ll never see it again.”
The morning breeze made Melvin shiver. He decided to warm himself in the flower bed in the front yard while he tried to think of something else fun to do.
He ran around the house to the flower bed. New flowers had pushed their way through the crumbly soil, and a yellow tulip stretched tall, aiming for the sun. As Melvin sat in a sunny spot and watched a pretty speckled butterfly on the tulip’s leaves, tears began to trickle from the little mouse’s eyes.
The butterfly saw Melvin’s tears and asked, “What’s the matter? Don’t you like spring?”
“Oh, I do,” said Melvin. “But I wanted to play with my ball today. It’s round and smooth and has red stripes on it. I’ve looked and looked, but it’s lost.”
“Round, smooth, red stripes? That’s a ball worth finding. Don’t give up. Think hard. Where did you see it last?” asked the butterfly.
Melvin Mouse tried one more time to remember. It wasn’t at the oak stump. It wasn’t at the pine tree. And it wasn’t at the porch steps. Those are my favorite places to play, Melvin thought. I played at each of them yesterday. Then I went home. I took my ball, and I … I … I put it away in my toy chest!
Melvin ran to the front door of his house. He hurried inside, scrambled up the stairs to his room, and lifted the lid of his toy chest. There was his ball! It was round and smooth and had red stripes on it, just as he remembered.
“I found you!” he shouted happily. “Now I’m going to roll you and throw you and bounce you off the wall!”
And he did.

Growing up in southern Utah, some of us sought employment at the many gasoline service stations that lined old Highway 91 as it made its way through downtown St. George. My younger brother, Paul, then 18, worked at Tom’s Service, a station located about three blocks from our home.
One summer day, a car with New York license plates pulled in the station and asked for a fill-up. (For you brethren under the age of 30, in those days someone actually came out and filled your car with gas, washed your windows, and checked your oil.) While Paul was washing the windshield, the driver asked him how far it was to the Grand Canyon. Paul replied that it was 170 miles.
“I’ve waited all my life to see the Grand Canyon,” the man exclaimed. “What’s it like out there?”
“I don’t know,” Paul answered. “I’ve never been there.”
“You mean to tell me,” the man responded, “that you live two and a half hours from one of the seven wonders of the world and you’ve never been there!”
“That’s right,” Paul said.
After a moment, the man replied, “Well, I guess I can understand that. My wife and I have lived in Manhattan for over 20 years, and we’ve never visited the Statue of Liberty.”
“I’ve been there,” Paul said.
Isn’t it ironic, brethren, that we will often travel many miles to see the wonders of nature or the creations of man, but yet ignore the beauty in our own backyard?
It is human nature, I suppose, to seek elsewhere for our happiness. Pursuit of career goals, wealth, and material rewards can cloud our perspective and often leads to a lack of appreciation for the bounteous blessings of our present circumstances.
It is precarious to dwell on why we have not been given more. It is, however, beneficial and humbling to dwell on why we have been given so much.
An old proverb states, “The greater wealth is contentment with a little.”
In his letter to the Philippians, Paul wrote, “Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content” (Philip. 4:11).
Alma instructed his son Helaman, giving him counsel that all fathers should teach their children: “Counsel with the Lord in all thy doings, and he will direct thee for good; yea, when thou liest down at night lie down unto the Lord, that he may watch over you in your sleep; and when thou risest in the morning let thy heart be full of thanks unto God; and if ye do these things, ye shall be lifted up at the last day” (Alma 37:37).
Alma says, “Let thy heart be full of thanks unto God.” The Lord desires that we give thanks. In Thessalonians we read, “In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you” (1 Thes. 5:18).
As holders of the priesthood we should constantly strive to increase our gratitude. Gratitude may be increased by constantly reflecting on our blessings and giving thanks for them in our daily prayers.
President David O. McKay has said: “The young man who closes the door behind him, who draws the curtains, and there in silence pleads with God for help, should first pour out his soul in gratitude for health, for friends, for loved ones, for the gospel, for the manifestations of God’s existence. He should first count his many blessings and name them one by one” (in Conference Report, Apr. 1961, 7–8).
A constant expression of gratitude should be included in all our prayers. Often prayers are given for specific blessings which we, in our incomplete understanding, believe we need. While the Lord does answer prayers according to His will, He certainly must be pleased when we offer humble prayers of gratitude.
Brethren, the next time we pray, instead of presenting the Lord petition after petition for some action in our behalf, give Him thoughtful thanks for all with which He has blessed us.
President Joseph F. Smith has instructed us that “the spirit of gratitude is always pleasant and satisfying because it carries with it a sense of helpfulness to others; it begets love and friendship, and engenders divine influence. Gratitude is said to be the memory of the heart” (Gospel Doctrine, 5th ed. [1939], 262).
In October of 1879 a group of 237 Latter-day Saints from several small southwestern Utah settlements was called to blaze a new route and colonize what is today known as San Juan County in southeastern Utah. The journey was to have taken six weeks but instead took nearly six months. Their struggles and heroics are well documented, particularly their seemingly impossible task of crossing the Colorado River at a place called Hole-in-the-Rock. Those who have visited this place marvel that wagons and teams could have been lowered through this narrow crack in the red rock canyon walls to reach the Colorado River far below. Once the Colorado was crossed, however, many other severe tests awaited them on the trail to San Juan County. Tired and worn out, early in April 1880 they faced their final obstacle, Comb Ridge. The Comb is a ridge of solid sandstone forming a steep wall nearly 1,000 feet high.
One hundred and twenty years later, our family climbed Comb Ridge on a bright spring day. The ridge is steep and treacherous. It was difficult to imagine that wagons, teams, men, women, and children could make such an ascent. But beneath our feet were the scars from the wagon wheels, left as evidence of their struggles so long ago. How did they feel after enduring so much? Were they bitter after the many months of toil and privation? Did they criticize their leaders for sending them on such an arduous journey, asking them to give up so much? Our questions were answered as we reached the top of Comb Ridge. There inscribed in the red sandstone so long ago were the words, “We thank Thee, O God.”
Brethren, I pray that we might keep our hearts full of thanks and appreciation for what we have and not dwell on what is not ours. As holders of the priesthood, let us adopt an attitude of gratitude in all we do is my prayer, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

The opportunity to be a blessing in the life of another often comes unexpectedly. On one extremely cold Saturday night during the winter of 1983–84, Sister Monson and I drove several miles to the mountain valley of Midway, Utah, where we have a home. The temperature that night was minus 24 degrees Fahrenheit (–31°C), and we wanted to make certain all was well at our home there. We checked and found that it was fine, so we left to return to Salt Lake City. We barely made it the few miles to the highway before our car stopped working. We were completely stranded. I have seldom, if ever, been as cold as we were that night.
Reluctantly we began walking toward the nearest town, the cars whizzing past us. Finally one car stopped, and a young man offered to help. We eventually found that the diesel fuel in our gas tank had thickened because of the cold, making it impossible for us to drive the car. This kind young man drove us back to our Midway home. I attempted to reimburse him for his services, but he graciously declined. He indicated that he was a Boy Scout and wanted to do a good turn. I identified myself to him, and he expressed his appreciation for the privilege to be of help. Assuming that he was about missionary age, I asked him if he had plans to serve a mission. He indicated he was not certain just what he wanted to do.
On the following Monday morning, I wrote a letter to this young man and thanked him for his kindness. In the letter I encouraged him to serve a full-time mission. I enclosed a copy of one of my books and underscored the chapters on missionary service.
About a week later the young man’s mother telephoned and advised that her son was an outstanding young man but that because of certain influences in his life, his long-held desire to serve a mission had diminished. She indicated she and his father had fasted and prayed that his heart would be changed. They had placed his name on the prayer roll of the Provo Utah Temple. They hoped that somehow, in some way, his heart would be touched for good and he would return to his desire to fill a mission and to serve the Lord faithfully. The mother wanted me to know that she looked upon the events of that cold evening as an answer to their prayers in his behalf. I said, “I agree with you.”
After several months and more communication with this young man, Sister Monson and I were overjoyed to attend his missionary farewell prior to his departure for the Canada Vancouver Mission.
Was it chance that our paths crossed on that cold December night? I do not for one moment believe so. Rather, I believe our meeting was an answer to a mother’s and father’s heartfelt prayers for the son they cherished.

Let me give you a modern example. When I was in graduate school at Washington State University, at the end of winter semester I had just moved into a new apartment with my previous roommate, Amy. Ellen, our new roommate, was going home for the summer because she had a great internship lined up. Ellen's home was Juneau, Alaska. So just as I was moving in, she was taking off for the summer. Ellen had packed up everything she owned in her little pickup, planning to store her stuff at her sister's house, across the state, 6 hours away, in Olympia, Washington. The next day, she was supposed to catch her flight from Seattle to Juneau so she could start her internship the following day. She was on a tight schedule. Of course, disaster struck. In the middle of nowhere, Ellen's pickup broke down. This is in the 1990s--before everyone had cell phones. Ellen found someone nice who drove her to the closest town and she was at a service station, waiting for the tow-truck driver. In despair, Ellen called us. My roommate Amy answered the phone. The next thing I knew, Amy was grabbing her coat and keys. She was going to get Ellen. Now, I don't remember what Amy had planned for that weekend, but it certainly wasn't a 700-mile 12-hour round trip across Washington State 350 miles there and 350 miles back. I felt ashamed. My first thought hadn't been to go get Ellen. But, I rationalized that Amy and Ellen were practically family. Ellen had been roommates with Amy's two older sisters and had even spent holidays with their family. So then I didn't feel quite so bad.

Experience #1 - My wife and I were at a high school state championship game in Aloha Stadium. There was a really large crowd. We were there to watch Kahuku play St. Louis for the 2006 championship. The game went back and forth and was a real defensive battle. Kahuku just couldn’t move the ball against St. Louis. St. Louis had 6 points, and it looked to be enough. My wife lost interest and wanted to beat the crowd, so I agreed to leave. We quietly left the game and got away before the crowd. As it happened, we no sooner left than Kahuku scored and kicked an extra point (something which was hard for them to do that year) for the win. Well, for the next couple of weeks, people came up to me and said, “Oh we saw you left the game early – too bad.” I did not think anyone was paying attention to us. I was so wrong.

I might mention here an experience of a young couple, graduates of this university. This young lady and her husband (they had two children, a tiny girl and a baby two weeks old) graduated, as many of you will, and he had a business opportunity in Salt Lake City. So they moved to Salt Lake City.

They, of course, were active in the Church, and Bishop Bowles—it was in the Belvedere Ward—called them in the first week they were there. The bishop said, “We’re building a new building and we need all the help we can get. Are you willing to serve?” They both said they would. And he said, “Would you like to suggest where you’d like to serve?”

That’s a little unusual in the Church, but she was happy for that. She was a teacher. In fact, she taught here for a quarter or two. She said she’d like to teach. She’d like to teach in the Sunday School or in the MIA. So the following Sunday she was sustained as a second counselor in the presidency of the Relief Society! Now, she protested and used the word shocked, and this is a quote: “That organization is for my mother, not for me.” She said she had no experience, and I quote again, “And I have no desire to learn.”

Well, the bishop prevailed, as bishops will, and she answered the call. They held Relief Society in a dismal room in the basement of the chapel, because of the remodeling and construction. It was in the furnace room. While the furnace was on it was terrible, and when the furnace was off it was intolerable. Her children caught cold. On at least two occasions she went to the bishop and asked to be released. On both occasions the bishop said he’d think about it.

Finally, she was in a very serious automobile accident. After some period of treatment, she was recovering at home. Part of the injury was a terrible laceration of her face. This became infected and they called a doctor one Sunday night. He made some preparation for some further attention, but he said, “I think we can’t touch this surgically; it’s too close to the nerve in your face.” He gave her what attention he could and explained how grave the situation was.

It was as the doctor was leaving that late Sunday night when the bishop appeared at the door, after a long busy day, as Sundays will be for a bishop. He said, “I was just on my way home from some interviews and saw the light on and wondered if there was trouble here.” This woman, in her agony, when the bishop said, “Is there anything we can do for you?” answered from her pain and with tears, “Yes, Bishop. Now, will you release me from the Relief Society?” He said he would pray about it. And the answer came back: “Sister Spafford, I still don’t get the feeling that you should be released from the Relief Society.”

This great and lovely woman, who for many years has presided over our Relief Society in the Church, was tested in those early days of her life. I think that something like that can come to many of us, most of us, when we’re being tested, as it were.

In elementary school I was overweight. I remember stepping onto the scale every morning, praying that I had lost just one pound. Sometimes I came home in tears because of my schoolmates’ cutting remarks.
My older brother and sister, David and Shannon, also had their challenges. When David was one year old, he was severely burned. Scars covered his hands, arms, stomach, and legs. Shannon had a walking disability and was born with a slower mental capacity that often made her act younger than she was. Almost daily children at school made fun of them.
Despite their trials, my brother and sister looked to Christ in everything they did. Both of them served honorable missions. Their humility, constant faith, and perseverance provided wonderful examples. They are everything I want to become.
In this life we may be criticized and persecuted. That’s part of why we came here—to rise above the persecution and become stronger because of it. David, Shannon, and I are better people today for having been faithful in difficult experiences. I often say that everything given to us in life can be either a blessing or a curse. The strength of one’s heart determines which it is.

A few years ago, right before Christmas, I had a stake conference assignment in California. On the flight back to Utah, I decided to take a short nap. My seat was C, near the aisle. Just before the cabin door closed, a beautiful lady in her mid-70s stood beside me and said, “May I have my seat?” I said, “Yes, ma’am.” That was the end of my nap. She loved to talk.
She said, “I don’t know why I should have to fly to a cold place like Utah at Christmastime to visit my grandchildren. I hate to leave sunny California.”
She went on to say, “Besides, there are strange and weird people in Utah. They call themselves ‘Mormons.’ My daughter married one of them.”
I said, “I am sorry, but before you go any further, I should tell you that I am one of them.”
Then she said, “I am sorry—I didn’t mean that.”
I said, “Oh, you really meant that, didn’t you?”
Our conversation went on until we were above Provo. We knew we would soon be landing in Salt Lake.
“Patti”—that’s her name—“you have been talking for most of the flight. I feel like I have known you from the pre-earth life. Before we land in Salt Lake City, I’d like to ask you a few questions if I may.”
I asked her sincerely, “Patti, your deceased husband—do you know you can see him again?”
She said, “Oh, is that possible?”
“Do you know your deceased son, Matt, who died as a baby—you will see him also in the future?”
Her eyes became moist, and her voice was shaking. The Spirit of the Lord touched her. I sensed she had missed them so much.
Then I prayerfully asked her, “Patti, do you know you have a loving and kind Heavenly Father, who loves you so dearly?”
She said, “Do I?”
“Patti, do you know your Heavenly Father has a special plan for you and that your family can be forever?”
“Can we?” she replied.
“Have you ever heard the plan before?”
She said, “No.”
Very sincerely I asked her, “Would you like to know about it?”
“Yes, I would,” she responded.
The Spirit of the Lord touched her deeply. And the Lord promises us, “For mine elect hear my voice and harden not their hearts.”
He also said: “I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep. … My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.”
Nephi desired to see father Lehi’s dream—the tree of life—and he did. Then Nephi also saw the beautiful baby Jesus. And the angel asked, “Knowest thou the meaning of the tree which thy father saw?”
Nephi replied, “Yea, it is the love of God, which sheddeth itself abroad in the hearts of the children of men; wherefore, it is the most desirable above all things.”
Before we came to this earth, our Heavenly Father gently and peacefully placed in our bosoms “the love of God.” In Heavenly Father’s eyes, you are a very special child. My friend Patti has the spark of divinity in her soul. When Patti heard the word of Heavenly Father, she was touched deeply and she responded to His voice.
We were total strangers, but the Lord placed one of His precious daughters quietly next to me. I was praying earnestly, that the Spirit of the Lord would touch her and speak to her.
The missionaries taught Patti. Three weeks later, while she was staying in Utah, Patti called me: “Brother Kikuchi, this is Patti. I am going to be baptized. Would you come to my baptism services?”
My wife and I went to her baptism. Many members were kindly fellowshipping her. Oh, I shall never forget her joyful countenance as she came out of the water!
I shall never forget her sweet tears at the sacred altar in the Salt Lake Temple a year later. I remember her peaceful and celestial glow when she was sealed to her deceased husband and son and living daughter who had become a member of the Church. She now knows her family is forever in the Lord. My friend Patti Louise Donaldson found the Lord Jesus Christ. Now she lives in Utah.

Illustrations by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
I don’t like Tiffany, that new girl. Let’s ignore her.
She just wants to have friends. Don’t you?
I don’t interfere where I’m not wanted. Let’s not give her a valentine.
You know the rule—everybody gives everybody a valentine.
Then we’ll all write mean things on her valentines, and that includes you—understand?
I understand that she has feelings too, and I’m not going to do it.
Then you might just get the same treatment as she does.
Hey, Tiffany, want to swing?
Thanks for the nice valentine, Mandy. And for playing with me.
You’re a child of God, and so am I. That makes us sisters, and I like being with you.

“How can it be six o’clock?” I thought my head had just hit the pillow, but my alarm clock was already screaming at me to get out of bed. The darkness and cold air made it even harder to peel back the blankets. After a few more seconds of enduring the screeching of my alarm clock, I finally got up.
My goal was to wake up at six a.m. and read my scriptures before I started a busy day. I flipped on my lamp and opened my scriptures.
After a good half hour of scripture study and a prayer, I showered and dressed for my eight o’clock class. I couldn’t be late. My first big humanities paper was due at eight. One second late and the paper wouldn’t be accepted. A zero on this assignment would ruin any chance of earning an A in the class. I had put a lot of effort into writing this paper, and I finished a couple of days before it was due. I left myself plenty of time to walk to campus to turn in my polished paper.
As I walked down the dorm hall stairwell, I heard a voice say, “Check to make sure you have your paper.” Surprised, I immediately opened my backpack and discovered that I had grabbed the wrong folder. I didn’t have my paper with me!
As I rushed back to my room, I knew it had been the influence of the Spirit that told me I didn’t have my paper. A sense of relief washed over me when I put the paper in my backpack and started off to class again.
On my walk to campus I reflected on what had happened. The impression I had received was intense. I did not doubt the voice, and I immediately acted upon the prompting. As a result I was blessed with the chance to fix the situation quickly.
This experience left me asking some questions. Why was the feeling so intense? Why did I not doubt it? Why was I given the opportunity to go back and get my paper? Why did I have the prompting at all? In the great scheme of things, did it really matter if I got an A in this class?
When I stepped into the classroom, the answer became clear. Yes, it mattered; it mattered to me. As I put my paper on the teacher’s desk, I realized Heavenly Father knew the desires of my heart. Through my early-morning scripture study and prayer, I had invited the Spirit to be with me. Even though my situation wasn’t a matter of life or death, I was receptive to the influence of the Spirit and was given the desire of my heart.