Gospel Story Finder

Six weeks later I was baptised and committed to becoming the very best I could be. My testimony was much bigger than my actual knowledge of the gospel, so I was frantically studying and seeking answers. Trying to keep the Sabbath day holy was difficult with a husband who was not a member.
I asked a visiting District Presidency member to give me a list of things to avoid—what I was not allowed to do. He told me to avoid any activity that would pull me away from God. So I asked him for a list of things I must or should do. He told me to do all those things that would help me draw nearer to God.
At the time I didn’t think he was very helpful at all, but keeping the Sabbath day holy isn’t about lists of do’s and don’ts. There is no scorecard where we add up the ticks to pass. For me it is about learning and growing, recharging my spirit and refocussing myself and my life on achieving my eternal potential—striving to become more like the Saviour. This week I may spend six hours working on family history; next week I may lie on cushions in the lounge reading Book of Mormon stories with my granddaughter. The 2-hour church schedule gives us a little more time to work on the areas where we need the most growth. The new curriculum materials are designed to empower us as we teach our families AND strive to perfect ourselves. We all have different strengths and weaknesses, and we’re all at different stages of our development, so our choices will be personal and may be totally different from those of another family.

This is a story of vision lost and vision gained.
It’s the story of Kailey I. of eastern Utah, USA, who as a baby was so eager to enter this life that she came early and spent her first four and a half months of life in the newborn intensive care unit. Doctors said she might not live long and that if she did survive, she wouldn’t be able to see or speak. She would spend her life in a wheelchair, they said, and she would suffer from cerebral palsy.
Today, Kailey and her parents say that Heavenly Father must have had other plans. The years have been filled with prayer and days of ward and family fasts, multiple priesthood blessings, repeated surgeries, several three-and-a-half-hour drives to doctors, and even a two-and-a-half-month period of total blindness. Despite all that, Kailey is a vibrant, happy 12-year-old who just advanced from Primary into Young Women.
But her eyes, diseased from birth, have never provided more than limited sight. At age 10, Kailey permanently lost vision in her left eye. Now her right eye—which has a field of vision so small it’s like looking through a straw—is getting worse.
Kailey, ever the optimist, has been learning braille, a language that allows her to read by feeling raised dots with her fingertips. “Braille is going to be part of my life,” she says. “So I decided to start learning now. That way, I’ll have a head start.”
But to communicate in Braille, Kailey needed expensive equipment, including a special computer.
Though many people in the community—such as those at her father’s work as well as in the ward—would have gladly paid for the equipment, Kailey decided she could raise money for the equipment herself by recycling aluminum cans. The problem: it would take a lot of cans. When the ward deacons quorum president, Carter N., learned about her goal and dilemma, he came to the rescue and brought others with him.
“My uncle had a metal shed,” Carter says. “He said I could tear it down, recycle the metal, and make some money to help Kailey, so I did that with his help. But I kept thinking about her idea to recycle cans. ‘Couldn’t we collect enough cans to help pay for her equipment?’”
The next Sunday at bishopric youth committee (BYC) meeting, Carter shared his feelings and presented a plan. “The youth and the leaders talked it through,” Carter says, “and we all said, ‘We can do it’” to help Kailey collect cans. “We’ve been gathering cans ever since.”
Gathering may be an understatement.
“The BYC took the idea and ran with it,” says Mark D. Holmes, Kailey and Carter’s bishop. “The youth made plans, put up posters, and did all the work. The rest of the ward joined in too. Pretty soon people who weren’t members of the Church saw us out gathering cans and were eager to get involved.” Many businesses invited the youth to put up posters and set out boxes labeled “Kans for Kailey.”
Although the original goal was just to recycle as much as possible, during the next few months, more than 14,000 aluminum cans were collected by the youth, the ward, and the community. “The bishop let us store them in his shop building,” Carter explains. “We completely filled that, plus a couple of horse trailers.” After the cans were crushed to save space, they still filled a storage shed that’s 12 feet wide, 12 feet deep, and 8 feet tall.
“At first I didn’t think we could get that many cans,” says Michael P., 13. “But when people remembered they were doing it for Kailey, they all seemed to have more desire to help.”
“We were doing for her something she couldn’t do entirely for herself,” says Kinsley K., 12. “In a small way, we were following the example of the Savior.”
The money collected from the recycling provided more than enough money to purchase the Braille equipment. “I really like the equipment,” Kailey says. “I use it a lot.”
What’s more, the youth, the ward, and the community all gained a vision of what they could do when they worked together.
But there’s more to the story. Because of her physical challenges, Kailey hadn’t always felt like she fit in at church. She and her younger brother Kenston, 10, both have autism, which makes it tough for them to express their feelings and interact with other people. Kenston also has Tourette’s syndrome, and so he makes repeated, quick movements and utters sounds that he cannot control. Even though their testimonies of the gospel are strong, Kailey and her family felt like they might be a distraction to others, and so they sometimes left Church meetings early or didn’t come at all.
However, when the youth started gathering cans, Kailey joined in every activity. She quickly made friends with the youth and the youth leaders in the ward.
“She joined right in and did everything,” says Rachel M., 17. “And by being there, she got to see not only what we were doing, but she experienced our attitudes about doing it as well.”
“Kailey’s always nice,” says Tommi B., 12. “When you see her, she’s always the first one to say hi.”
“I just want to be friends with everyone,” Kailey says. “It really means a lot to me to be accepted.”
As Kailey’s parents saw how well she was fellowshipped by the youth of the ward, they gained an increased vision of how the ward family could support their family. They felt more welcome at meetings, including bringing Kenston along. Ward members have come to understand that Kenston will sometimes unexpectedly sit in the choir seats and then return to his family after a few minutes or that he may make a noise he can’t stop, and they also understand that his friendship is quick and genuine.
“It didn’t take long before the youth caught the vision that getting Braille equipment was never really the true goal of this project,” Bishop Holmes says. “The real goal was to let Kailey and her family know that we love them and that we need them here to make our ward family complete.”

Once during the Chukwurahs’ mission, while Christopher was away on assignment, their young son Uchenna grew so sick that Florence thought he would die. “I had no hope anywhere except from the Lord,” she said. As she held Uchenna in her arms, Florence prayed fervently for healing and received impressions about how to care for him. As she followed the promptings, Uchenna’s health improved. “The Lord saved him,” she affirmed.

One of the greatest joys of my life is becoming acquainted with and inspired by members of the Church all over the world who are living exemplars of faith in Jesus Christ and His gospel. They have strong personal foundations that allow them to withstand seismic events with steady understanding, despite their heartache and pain.
To display this on a more personal level, I recently spoke at the funeral of a beautiful, vibrant young wife and mother (also a family friend of ours). She was a scrappy Division 1 soccer player when she met and married her dental student husband. They were blessed with a beautiful, precocious daughter. She valiantly battled with various forms of cancer for six challenging years. Despite the ever-present emotional and physical distress that she experienced, she trusted in her loving Heavenly Father and was often quoted widely by her social media followers for her famous saying: “God is in the details.”
On one of her social media posts, she wrote that someone had asked her, “How do you still have faith with all the heartache that surrounds you?” She replied firmly with these words: “Because faith is what gets me through these dark times. Having faith doesn’t mean nothing bad is going to happen. Having faith allows me to believe that there will be light again. And that light will be even brighter because I have walked through the dark. As much darkness as I have witnessed over the years, I have witnessed far more light. I have seen miracles. I have felt angels. I have known that my Heavenly Father was carrying me. None of that would have been experienced if life was easy. The future of this life may be unknown, but my faith is not. If I choose to not have faith then I choose to only walk in darkness. Because without faith, darkness is all that is left.”
Her unshakable testimony of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ—in her words and in her actions—was an inspiration for others. Even though her body was weak, she lifted others to be stronger.

Suellen (Su) Moraes is a member of the Church and a third-year student at Birmingham City University. She applied to the ParliaMentors programme after she followed a link sent to her by her stake president via a young adult group chat.
Su has been recognised as an outstanding ParliaMentors student, and Sister Tracey Prior and ParliaMentors Programme organiser, Ben Shapiro, wanted to show appreciation for her involvement.
Su, and three other students studying at Birmingham City University, knew that there were homeless people in the city. During the coronavirus pandemic, they recognised that homelessness would be a greater challenge.
At first, they wanted to collect supplies to give to the homeless, but this wasn’t possible with no one on campus. They kept looking for ways to help, however, and explored the matter through networking.
Su reconnected with a friend who worked with her a few years earlier. She discovered his passion for politics and was amazed at his desire to do meaningful work. That’s when she felt prompted to mention the homeless project. Her friend was able to link Su’s group to a company certified in construction-industry training. She was told that if the group had homeless people. they would train them free of charge.
Su then went back to her group to get their thoughts on the construction-industry training opportunity.
The construction-training opportunity is a huge success, and Su’s group are pleased with their efforts. They said that giving the homeless in their areas skills would help them in the long run.
Now Su’s group is working with homeless charities to refer individuals to them so they can liaise with the construction company to enrol the candidates into courses.
Ben is very impressed with their efforts, mostly because networking was in socially distanced ways, primarily online.
Sister Prior congratulated Su, saying she was “changing someone’s future, not just today.”
Su’s group is continuing its referral project, even after graduation, to help homeless people to be trained for careers. They started a society at their university, and they hope it will continue with other ParliaMentors participants.

A few hours before the youth began to arrive, we held a meeting and a quick spiritual thought with the young single adults. As a Church, our pioneers have crossed rivers in times of extreme difficulty before. “Let me tell you about the Sweetwater River in Wyoming and the story of the Martin and Willie handcart companies,” I said.
I recounted the events of Nov. 4, 1856, when the members of the Martin handcart company could go no further and wept at the thought of crossing that river in the frigid cold to find shelter from the storm at Martin’s Cove.
I told them of three members of the rescue party from Salt Lake City, all young adults, who stepped forward and volunteered to carry the entire company across the frigid river at great personal cost. I then asked, “who is willing to carry on this tradition and carry our 530 youth across the river this morning so a different kind of rescue can continue today, right here?”
The young single adults leapt to their feet volunteering in excitement to be a rescuer for the 2022 FSY and carry our youth across the river. They ran to their dorm rooms and changed into suitable clothing, knowing they were about to get very wet and dirty in the river and mud.
At 10:45 am we walked down to the water. The youth had already begun to arrive. The Konka staff had fixed the ropes to hold while crossing the water and were ready for the assistance of the young single adults. Several leaders grabbed onto the ropes and walked across the river and foot bridge to greet the youth and their parents and leaders as they arrived, to give them confidence and assurance that everything was safe, and we were moving forward.
There was shock on the faces of the youth and leaders as we explained the situation and instructed the youth to remove their shoes and socks and pull up their pant legs as far as they could. An umbrella to protect them from the rain was all most had planned on. Now they were about to cross a river on foot. As they walked down to the footbridge, several slipped, a few even falling in the deep and slippery mud. “Hang on to the rope!” was the yell that echoed for the next three hours as group after group arrived.
The young adult leaders took every suitcase and all the bedding and carried it across the footbridge. Over 500 youth made it across the river, either on the backs of the young single adults or picking their own cautious paths across the river whilst holding onto the safety ropes. A few hours later, the rain began to lessen. We had made it, and the FSY experience could go forward.
Uniformly, the youth expressed thanks that FSY had not been cancelled and we had found a way forward. Several analogies to our river crossing followed during the week, all relating back to the theme trust in the Lord. The young single adults acting as counselors not only carried and guided the youth across a literal river, but then spent the week teaching and strengthening the youth in a way that has had a deep and meaningful impact—teaching them and sharing tools for navigating an increasingly difficult world. Lives have been forever changed.

On 5 February 1989, Elder Dallin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles issued a challenge to the young men of the Tokyo, Japan, East Stake. “Every worthy priesthood bearer should go on a mission,” he said. “It is his responsibility.”
One young man in the congregation who accepted that challenge was Hidemasa Yatabe* Hidemasa, a student at Tsukuba University near Tokyo, had thought often about serving a mission, but up until then it has been an unfulfilled wish.
As for many young men, it was a difficult decision. For Hidemasa to serve a mission would mean giving up his position on the All-Japan gymnastics team and opportunity to appear in international competition.
“The university had only a few gymnasts,” he says, “and our success was based on team members dedicating a great deal of time practicing together. We even ate together. We became as one technically, mentally, and emotionally. The loss of even one member of a team like that disrupts the entire team. So although I always wanted to go on a mission, I wasn’t sure how I could leave the team.”
Since his baptism in 1981, the only convert in his family, Hidemasa had been a faithful member of the Church. In 1987, Elder Oaks was in Tokyo and visited some of the Saints’ homes, including Hidemasa’s. At that time, Elder oaks blessed Hidemasa that he would be able to serve a mission. Now, two years later, that blessing was recalled and Hidemasa resolved to accept Elder Oaks’ stake conference challenge.
“However, for the next six months, gymnastics and class studies took all my time. I practiced hard to earn the right to attend the All-Japan gymnastics championship.
“But even as I began to prepare mentally and physically for future world-class competition, my desire to serve a mission became stronger and stronger. After the student championship, I was interviewed by my bishop and stake president. In the interview, the stake president said to me, ‘If you plan to go on a mission only when it is convenient for you, perhaps the Lord might bless you only when it is convenient for him.’ I was convinced that I should send in my application right away.”
When Hidemasa announced his intentions to his teammates and coach, he met with immediate opposition. “My teammates all tried to stop me from going,” he says. “It is not an overstatement to say that winning the All-Japan championship was everything my teammates had worked toward in their youth. It would be the most significant event of their lives.”
Teammates began to accuse Hidemasa of deserting the team and blame him for hurting their chances of winning in nationwide competition. “Why can’t you wait for another year?” they asked. “We have worked so hard.” At other times they would say, “Religion should make people happy; so why are you making us suffer?”
“I was grateful for the support the team members had given me in my athletic career,” Hidemasa says, “and I didn’t want to disappoint them. Without their help, I would not have achieved what I did. For me to leave for a mission meant that I would destroy all that we had worked together to build. I knew exactly how they felt. It was painful.”
To ease that pain, Hidemasa looked to the words of Church leaders for consolation. He found it in a statement by President Ezra Taft Benson, which seemed to apply especially to him: “One of the most difficult tests of all is when you have to choose between pleasing God or pleasing someone you love or respect. … We should give God, the Father of our spirits, an exclusive preeminence in our lives. … The greatest test of life is obedience to God.” (“The Great Commandment—Love the Lord,” April General Conference, 1988.)
After reading this, Hidemasa felt strengthened and comforted. Still, there was no way for his teammates to understand the words of President Benson or the mission call. So when his teammates harassed him, he said nothing.
Finally, the last day of practice came—23 September 1989.
“I will never forget that day,” Hidemasa says. “I was practicing and thinking I would like to give something to the members of my team. Suddenly, I was summoned by my coach. He said to me harshly, ‘This is a training area for athletes, and not a place for you. Gather up all your belongings and get out.’”
Saddened, Hidemasa collected his things and prepared to leave. But as the left the practice area for the last time, he received a special witness from the Lord that he had made the correct decision. He recorded in his journal:
“My life as an athlete was finished. I would never again step into the gymnasium as a competitor. At that moment, I realized that everything I had worked toward had ended, and I could not help but cry. Everything, all the gymnastic life that I had worked so hard to build for the past ten years, including the inter-high school championship, the collegiate championship and the All-Japan championship, had come to an end.
“With that very poignant realization, I glanced back at the gymnasium. I felt that nothing remained for me there but an empty darkness. Suddenly, tears flowed freely as if to cleanse me. They were not tears of sorrow, but rather tears of gratitude. I felt the deepest gratitude for the many people who had supported, helped, and encouraged me for the last ten years. And I was sincerely grateful to Jesus Christ for his unequaled love and mercy. I rejoiced in the opportunity to demonstrate my love for him.”
During the next few days, Hidemasa visited the homes of his teammates, sharing with each one his testimony of Jesus Christ. Amazingly, their attitudes changed. “The Lord softened their hearts, and many of them began to understand my situation,” Hidemasa says.
The day before he left the university, his teammates held a farewell party for him. “Almost all my former teammates attended and gave me words of encouragement,” Hidemasa says. “One of them even congratulated me on my decision. I was able to talk to them about the Savior, declare the gospel, and give out copies of the Book of Mormon.”
Even after Hidemasa left the university, it was still painful for him to think of his teammates and what he had left behind. But later, when he went to the Tokyo Temple to receive his endowments, he had another experience that reinforced his decision.
“As I entered the celestial room, I felt a great spiritual awakening, and I understood the magnitude of the blessings our Father in Heaven has in store for us. I realized that, eternally, serving a mission was the best thing for me—and for my family, and for my former teammates.
“I was born again in Jesus Christ. There is power and strength in His name, and Satan is powerless against such strength. This is the testimony I gained in the temple.”
Since then, Hidemasa has never looked back. “Faith always accompanies sacrifice,” he says. “I sincerely testify that no matter how big a sacrifice you make, if you obey your Father in Heaven, blessings will be returned to you perhaps hundreds, perhaps thousands of times.”
One of those blessings is that Hidemasa’s parents are now receiving the missionary discussions. And he still keeps in touch with his former teammates.
What is the price of obedience? For Hidemasa Yatabe, student and gymnast, the price seemed high. But for Elder Hidemasa Yatabe, no price is too high, if it means keeping the Lord’s commandments.
“No matter how valuable things might be, they will never take the place of the great glory and blessings our Father in Heaven has in store for us,” he says. “There will be a time when you will receive an eternal reward no matter how big a sacrifice you pay to become a faithful member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”

The Book of Mormon was a means of introducing Wannipha Thongchalerm, to the Church. First introduced to Christianity by a United States serviceman, she received a copy of the Book of Mormon from a friend. The book led to visits by the full-time missionaries. “Learning the gospel was a happy experience for me,” she says. “The missionaries would visit me every other day, and I would make notes of what they told me. Each time they came, I would repeat the previous lesson back to them. I was baptized in 1976.”
Sister Thongchalerm married a nonmember whose work required him to travel a great deal. After five years of marriage, they were divorced. Prior to the divorce, Sister Thongchalerm began studying to be a nurse, a profession she still follows at one of the local hospitals. Three years after her divorce, she married Anan, who had been baptized in 1981. With their two children, Ariza, 4, and Aachanoon, 3, they were among the group that went to the Manila Temple.
“When I came back from the temple, I felt a greater need to share the gospel with others. I decided I would try to bring at least ten other people into the Church, a goal I reached within two years.”
Sister Thongchalerm, who teaches in seminary, Sunday School, and Relief Society, treasures her testimony. “I feel that no matter what happens, no one can take away my testimony of Jesus Christ.”
The Thongchalerms live in a multilevel house in Udorn—a house Brother Thongchalerm will completely finish “some day.”

One of the most wonderful chapters in the history of the Church occurred when Wilford Woodruff, an Apostle of the Lord, was teaching the restored gospel of Jesus Christ throughout Great Britain in 1840—just 10 years after the establishment of the Church.

Wilford Woodruff and other Apostles had focused their work in the Liverpool and Preston areas of England, with considerable success. Elder Woodruff, who later became President of the Church, was constantly praying to God to guide him in this very important work. His prayers led to the inspiration to go to a different place to teach the gospel.

President Monson has taught us that when we get the inspiration from heaven to do something, we do it now—we don’t procrastinate. That is exactly what Wilford Woodruff did. With clear direction from the Spirit to “go … south,” Elder Woodruff left almost immediately and traveled to a part of England called Herefordshire—farming country in the southwest of England. Here he met a prosperous farmer named John Benbow, where he was welcomed “with glad hearts and thanksgiving” (Wilford Woodruff, in Matthias F. Cowley, Wilford Woodruff: History of His Life and Labors as Recorded in His Daily Journals [1909], 117).

A group of over 600 people, who called themselves the United Brethren, had been “praying for light and truth” (Wilford Woodruff, in Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Wilford Woodruff [2004], 91). The Lord sent Wilford Woodruff as an answer to their prayers.

Elder Woodruff’s teaching bore fruit immediately, and many were baptized. Brigham Young and Willard Richards joined him in Herefordshire, and the three Apostles had remarkable success.

In only a few months, they organized 33 branches for the 541 members who had joined the Church. Their remarkable work continued, and ultimately almost every one of the members of the United Brethren were baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Years ago, while serving as a stake president, I submitted a recommendation for a brother to serve as an ordinance worker in the temple. After explaining what a wonderful ordinance worker he would be, I inadvertently pressed “Do not endorse,” which submitted the recommendation. After unsuccessfully trying to recall the message, I called the temple president and said, “I have made a horrible mistake.” Without hesitation, this good temple president said, “President Eyre, there is nothing that you have done that can’t be forgiven and ultimately corrected.” What a great truth. Indeed, Jesus Christ is “mighty to save.”

An important aspect of the path to developing potential through service and servant leadership is often times other people, such as the Lesuma’s, Litchfield’s, Budge’s, and Nainoa Thompson, see things in you before you are able to see them in yourself. I can count on two hands the number of hours Captain Nainoa slept in the 16 days and 2,500 miles before we arrived in Rangiroa in the Tuamotu Archipelago, and then two days on to Tahiti. He actually spotted land about 30 minutes before the apprentice navigators did. But my teacher didn’t need to find land; it was his fifth trip back to Tahiti. Instead, he allowed us to find the coconut trees, which were the highest points on Rangiroa so that we can likewise teach the rising generation (this is a photo of that moment). Servant leadership is exhausting, and at the same time nourishing, visionary, and self-replenishing. By following the Lord’s invitations through service and servant leadership, we honor those who have gone before us and strive to do His will by raising the next generation.

When I was seven years old, I really wanted a gaming console. I knew that my parents didn’t really like video games, so I made a deal with my mom. I told her that I would serve a mission if she would buy me the one I wanted when I got back. Smiling, my mom jokingly said, “Son, I will even buy you two games to go with it.”
Now that I’m 17 and seriously preparing to serve a mission, I realize how silly that deal was (though my mom and I still laugh about it). My motivation to serve has changed as my testimony and faith in Jesus Christ have grown. I want to share the joy and blessings that come with living the gospel.
I’ve found that going to seminary, studying my scriptures, praying, and helping with family home evening have helped me to feel more prepared to serve on my mission. I think it is up to us as youth to take the lead in preparing to serve. Maybe that’s on a mission. Maybe it’s attending the temple, participating in ordinances, and serving in the Church. Whatever we do, as long as what we want lines up with what God wants, we will be blessed.
Brigham R., New Zealand

After Brigham Young had been called as President of the Church, John Taylor received a call to go to New York to organize and publish a newspaper. This newspaper, the Mormon, was to inform people about the Church.
Brigham Young: Brother Taylor, we need you to go to New York and publish a newspaper to help people understand us.
Elder Taylor, his oldest son, George, and his nephew, Angus Cannon, set up the Mormon office between two New York City newspapers, the Herald and the Tribune.
John: Here we are, in the middle of two great newspapers.
When Elder John Taylor returned to Europe on a mission, he published the Book of Mormon and other Church writings in both French and German.
John: Now more people can read the gospel in their own language.
Because of his gift and talent of communication and his diligence, he was able to help many people understand the truth of the Church.

On this mortal journey we must never think that our choices affect only us. Recently, a young man visited my home. He had a good spirit about him, but I sensed he was not fully participating in Church activity. He told me that he had been raised in a gospel-centered home until his father was unfaithful to his mother, resulting in their divorce and influencing all his siblings to question the Church and to fall away. My heart was heavy as I spoke with this young father who now, affected by his father’s choices, was raising these precious spirits outside the blessings of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Another man I know, a onetime faithful Church member, had questions regarding certain doctrine. Rather than ask Heavenly Father for answers, he chose to rely solely on secular sources for guidance. His heart turned in the wrong direction as he sought what seemed to be the honors of men. His pride may have been gratified, at least temporarily, but he was cut off from the powers of heaven. Rather than find truth, he lost his testimony and brought with him many family members.
These two men became trapped in unseen riptides and brought many with them.
Conversely, I think of LaRue and Louise Miller, my wife’s parents, who despite never having much by way of worldly possessions, chose to teach the pure doctrine of the restored gospel to their children and to live it every day of their lives. By so doing they have blessed their posterity with the fruits of the gospel and the hope of eternal life.
In their home they established a pattern where the priesthood was respected, where love and harmony were abundant, and where the principles of the gospel directed their lives. Louise and LaRue, side by side, demonstrated what it meant to live lives patterned after Jesus Christ. Their children could clearly see which of life’s currents would bring peace and happiness. And they chose accordingly. As President Kimball taught, “If we can create … a strong, steady current flowing toward our goal of righteous life, we and our children may be carried forward in spite of the contrary winds of hardship, disappointment, [and] temptations.”

Rajinder sat in Primary with his arms folded. On one side of him was an empty chair. On the other side was a boy who couldn’t sit still. Rajinder felt very much alone.
He couldn’t help noticing how different he looked from the rest of the children. His skin was dark and smooth. Their skins were shades of pink, sometimes tanned or freckled from the sun. His hair was shiny black; theirs, brown or red or yellow. His eyes were large and dark instead of pale-lashed and blue.
Rajinder didn’t know how to go about making friends. Not only had his family just moved to a new country called Canada, they had also joined a new church with a name so long he could hardly pronounce it. And when someone in this new church talked to him, he was too shy to answer. He had finally decided that the best thing to do was sit quietly until it was over and then go home.
At home, Rajinder wouldn’t be lonely anymore because there he had lots of friends. At home, Rajinder had his dragons. He drew them in notebooks, on scraps of paper, and even on old pieces of cloth. He drew red dragons with smoke spiraling from their nostrils. He drew green dragons with flames shooting from their gaping jaws. He drew pink and blue baby dragons and black and purple grandfather dragons, dragons that slept, dragons that flew, and dragons that ate in great greedy gulps. When Rajinder was at home with his dragons, he was never lonely.
Then one Sunday Sister Werth, the Primary president, announced that each class would draw a large scene from the Book of Mormon, and all the pictures would be hung on the walls of the Primary room. The children were excited, and the very next Sunday during Sharing Time, everyone set to work.
For a while Rajinder tried really hard. He drew a Lamanite holding a sword, but the warrior ended up looking like a tall skinny dragon with no wings. Then he tried to draw a group of Nephite children clearing away rocks, but they looked exactly like a cluster of newly-hatched baby dragons popping from their shells. Finally Rajinder gave up and just watched.
Rajinder didn’t notice that Brother Olsen, his Primary teacher, was watching, too, with concern in his eyes. Rajinder couldn’t see Brother Olsen kneeling beside his bed that night, either, asking Heavenly Father to help him find a way to make Rajinder feel welcome. He didn’t see Brother Olsen sitting in his easy chair, reading the Book of Mormon and finally setting it down with a look of relief and excitement.
The next Sunday during Sharing Time, Brother Olsen took his class over to one corner of the room and spoke quietly. After that, Rajinder worked side by side with the rest of his class, his dark head bent over the paper, his eyes glowing with excitement. Standing nearby was Brother Olsen, looking very pleased and blocking the view of every curious child from another class who ventured too near.
Two weeks later, the drawings were all finished and ready to be hung. One by one the classes taped their artistic creations on the Primary room walls. There were drawings of fierce Lamanites, great Nephite kings, and prophets warning the people. There was a picture of Jesus in America, blessing the little children.
Then, at last, it was Rajinder’s turn. He and his classmates carried their picture forward and held it proudly for all to see. The other Primary children oohed and aahed. Sister Werth looked surprised. Rajinder’s class had drawn a beautiful picture of two great armies facing one another, ready for battle. On one side, eager to conquer, were the Lamanites with painted faces. On the other side, holding their flag of freedom, were the Nephites wearing their armor and shields. And here and there, standing alongside every third or fourth soldier, were dragons. There were red dragons with smoke drifting up from their noses, and green dragons with flames spewing into the air. There were big dragons and little dragons, there were angry ones and calm, thoughtful ones. They were the most magnificent dragons Rajinder had ever drawn.
Only one person in the whole Primary was frowning. Jenny jumped up from Sister Pierce’s class and pointed a finger. “You can’t put that picture up!” she exclaimed.
“Why not?” asked Brother Olsen, with a mysterious twinkle in his eye.
“Because the drawings must be from the Book of Mormon,” Jenny answered smugly. “Those are the rules. And there are no dragons in the Book of Mormon.”
Brother Olsen smiled at her. Then he opened his Book of Mormon and read Mosiah 20:11, emphasizing one word: “But they [the Nephites] fought for their lives, and for their wives, and for their children; therefore they exerted themselves and like dragons did they fight.”
Jenny sat down. Rajinder stood holding the picture and smiling the biggest, brightest smile anyone in Primary had ever seen.
Sister Werth hung the picture at the front of the Primary room, and during the weeks that followed, many ward members came to see it. The bishop especially liked the yellow dragon with brown spots that was blowing fire at the Lamanite leader. The ward clerk was partial to the little blue dragon coming from behind a tree. And the Relief Society president asked Rajinder to make her a copy of the big orange dragon wearing a breastplate.
Best of all, from then on, only some of Rajinder’s friends were dragons.

Why do I feel so strongly that it is imperative that we know the Savior’s love for us and have reverence for our own lives? It is such a waste of a beautiful life when any person feels that he or she is no good. I know. I have lived on both sides of this issue. For more than half of my life, I did not like who I was. It was dark, lonely. On the surface everything seemed great, but inwardly I feared that if anyone really knew me, they wouldn’t like me. The confusing thing to me was, with all the accomplishments I was racking up, I still did not have a good sense of self.

Heavenly Father tells me in my patriarchal blessing that he loves me. I read those words for ten years, and they never sank in. By the time I was thirty-two, I was desperate to know if I was loved. This disparity between the “outside” me and the “inside” me came to be more than I could stand, and in a most earnest prayer I pleaded with Heavenly Father to know if he loved me. The answer was one I could not doubt or deny. Luckily, it was affirmative! Then I couldn’t reconcile this knowledge of being loved with how I felt about myself. If I don’t love myself I am telling Father he is wrong, or that he has bad taste! It took nearly six months of prayer, repenting, and pretending that I loved myself before I could come to genuinely be glad to be me. Then my whole life changed.

What an incredible difference to be able to honestly thank the Lord for who you are, to be grateful and happy to be you instead of disliking yourself or feeling pressure to be more than you are.

One way we can share our testimony is to have a nativity in our home so we can spark conversations about the Lord’s birth. Another way is to relate stories like that of John Weightman in The Mansion.

John Weightman was a successful man whose charities brought him attention and renown. One evening, after perusing a pile of newspaper clippings praising him for his generosity, he picked up his Bible. Soon he fell asleep after reading the Savior’s words: “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal” (Matthew 6:19).

As he slept, John found himself in “the heavenly city,” traveling with others as they received their mansions. When the Keeper of the Gate stopped in front of a tiny hut built of cast-off materials, he said to John, “This is your mansion.”

John protested, listing his many public contributions.

“Were not all these carefully recorded on earth where they would add to your credit?” asked the Keeper of the Gate. “You have had your reward for them. Would you be paid twice?”1

During this Christmas season, I hope each of us has the opportunity to give anonymously.

He once shared this precious counsel concerning both discipline and work with a group of missionaries. One missionary had said, “I don’t like to work. I don’t like to tract.” This great leader responded:
Oh, is that so? I thought every missionary just loved to tract. . . . Didn’t you know that the worthwhile things of life are not the things . . . you . . . want to do, they are the things you ought to do because they are right. Did you just love to study everything that was assigned at the University? . . . Isn’t there anything in the world you do because you ought to do it? . . . My goodness, my boy, you’re headed for a total loss if you are only doing things you want to do.
Then Elder Kimball shared an experience from his early life. He said,
I wanted to go on a mission. I was scared to death, a little fellow coming from a country district.
I wondered if I could do it. I was quite sure I would have difficulty and yet I began to . . . remember specific friends that had done it. I thought, I can play basketball better than they can, . . . maybe I can do it. At any rate, I decided I wanted to go on a mission as I had been taught all my life.
I pause here to emphasize this great secret in his life so you may use it to bless your own. He made up his mind only once to resolve a particular challenge. From then on he used his energy to keep the resolve, not to reanalyze it repeatedly under every new circumstance. Elder Kimball continued:
So when I got near the end of my high school, I went to Globe, Arizona, to get a job so I could begin to save money, because . . . my father was having a little problem with a large family to support. I had earned money for my school for my last . . . three years, and then I earned it for my mission.
He then described how he raised a black colt to become a handsome stallion. He sold it, putting every penny into his mission account. He then described his work at the dairy.
I found that the work at the dairy wasn’t easy. I didn’t like it. I would milk the cows and then go in and do the washing of the cans and bottles. We would use scalding water when our fingers would get somewhat used to it. Then when I would go out to milk the cows the next time, my fingers would crack and bleed.
I went . . . to the Globe Ward every Sunday night. I would walk about two miles down the railroad to get there. I would hold up my hands above my head as we walked so that the weight of the blood in my fingers wouldn’t crucify me. It hurt terribly . . . I guess people thought I was giving up, but . . . I wasn’t surrendering, I was just on my way.
So my fingers bled every day, but every night I went back and milked . . . somewhere between twenty and twenty-eight cows . . . every night and every morning with my hands, not with machines. In between, we would turn the cows into the field, and we took a square-pointed shovel, and you know what we did with that shovel, we cleaned up after the cows. . . . It was about the filthiest job I ever had, but I had to do it . . . it was part of my job.
So then Elder Kimball said to this boy:
So you don’t like to tract. Well, for heaven’s sake, what do you like to do that will pay dividends? Think about that . . . If tracting is hard and other visits are hard and teaching the gospel is hard, and study is hard, so what? It pays big dividends.

Bright, hot, red-orange flames leap and lash out in the clear dark night. Grandpa drops a big pine log on the fire, sending a shower of sparks into the air. It needs to burn just a little longer, and then the coals will be ready to cook on. The season is initiated once again by our Memorial Day bonfire.
Memorial Day is the opening of a new season of ranch life. The excitement throughout the family is intense. Each age group anticipates the season in a different way, and each group has its own tradition for bonfire night.
As grandma scuttles around the kitchen gathering food and utensils on trays for the dinner, she gives out instructions for the rest of us. “Ed, go cut the willows and take some of the kids with you. Boys, go with Tom to gather more wood. Oh, and be careful with that saw. Someone take the little kids away from the kitchen. Find them something to do until dinner. Mitzi, could you please wash off the picnic table? You know how dirty it always is after a winter like this.” And so the day proceeds, each member doing something to get ready for the picnic and evening around the bonfire.
The bonfire pit is right in the center of the yard. It has been there as long as I can remember. I suppose grandpa built it when we first acquired the ranch, since he is generally building something for others to enjoy. It is quite a large pit and has big rocks encircling it. On one side of the pit lies the fish pond with an arched bridge over it. On another side is the house, surrounded by a big lawn and several swing sets. On the other side is the patio, where we eat. Across the pond grandpa and the children attack the willows. Each grandchild gets to hold a willow, bigger than himself, as it is lopped off the bush. The children each proudly carry their sticks across the bridge and to the table, where the fight over who gets to whittle begins.
Soon everyone starts to gather at the patio. As if from nowhere, children appear and grab hot dogs and sticks. Unlike other days, at the picnic you don’t have to eat food you don’t like, and if you want to eat one thing now and another later, it’s okay.
This Memorial Day holiday brings all my mother’s brothers and sisters and their families together. The mothers bustle around batting flies away, pouring mustard and catsup, cutting up hot dogs, serving salad, and warning everyone not to spill the pop. Fathers mention how good it is to have potato salad again, even if it must be eaten with hot dogs.
With dinner over, the family slowly assembles around the fire. Even the children are quiet, as if in awe, as grandpa pokes the fire back to life and throws on another log. This peace and tranquility lasts about ten minutes while everyone reflects on the fun times ahead. Children are thinking of horseback riding and rafting in the pond, playing hide-and-seek and chase games. Parents think of quiet evenings after the children are asleep, walks along the river, and conversations with each other.
One by one the kids become restless and leave the fire to swing, ride the tractor, feed the fish, or just run. Mothers disappear into the house and reappear laden with jackets. The older kids, forced into jackets, slowly disperse to meet later on the big back lawn for a game of “ditch.” This is a game quite similar to hide-and-seek, except that it must be played in the dark and there is no free place to run to. The adults sit around the fire and talk.
As the evening slowly fades away, the attendance around the fire diminishes. Three generations remain at the fire to the end: Grandpa, Uncle Tom, and I. We sit, enjoying one another’s company until our eyes meet; then the three of us race for the hose to put the fire out. Whoever gets to the hose first gets the pleasure of making the first big sizzle and puff of smoke. The other two tote buckets of water from the pond until all that is left of our fire is clouds of smoke.
Putting out the fire signifies the lighting of many more throughout the summer. Each bonfire proceeds in much the same way. Grandma fixes the food and gives instructions, grandpa cuts willows, the children play the same games each time, and the feeling of togetherness is ever present.

Donovan aimed his slingshot at the empty soup can on the stump.
He stretched back the slingshot’s rubber tubing.
“What are you doing?” his little sister, Dana, asked.
“Watch this!” he said.
Thwack!
The rubber snapped back into place as Donovan let go, sending the small rock flying. Some leaves in a nearby tree rustled. But the tin can didn’t move. Donovan stuffed the slingshot into his back pocket. He had missed. Again!
Dana tilted her head to the side. “What am I supposed to see?”
“Nothing,” Donovan said. “Come on. Let’s go home.” They started heading back to the house.
Donovan kicked a stick out of his way. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to use Dad’s slingshot right. And he loved that thing! He always liked using it when Dad was out of town working, like now. It helped him feel close to Dad when he couldn’t see him.
He pulled the slingshot from his pocket and spun it slowly in his hand. The rough bark had become smooth a long time ago. Dad had made the slingshot out of a strong tree branch and used it for years before giving it to Donovan.
Dad had pointed at the soup can that day. “When you focus, amazing things can happen.” Donovan still remembered what happened next. Dad had aimed the slingshot and hit the soup can. In one try! He made it look easy. Donovan really missed him.
He was still thinking about Dad when he fell asleep that night.
The next morning, Donovan carried his slingshot to his favorite patch of trees to try again.
“Focus …” Donovan said as he stared at the can on the stump. He placed another small stone in the slingshot and pulled back.
Dad keeps trying, even when things don’t always work out, Donovan thought.
Donovan tried to stop thinking about all the times he had missed before. He closed one eye, the way Dad taught him. He really focused. Donovan didn’t look at anything else but the red soup can.
Taking a deep breath, he let go.
Thwack!
CLUNK!
Donovan blinked in surprise as the can sailed off the stump. “I did it!” he said. “Yes!”
Later that night, Donovan sat next to Mom after dinner. He held up the slingshot.
“I finally hit the can today,” he said, grinning.
“Well done!” Mom said.
“You know, I think this slingshot is my favorite thing in the whole world,” Donovan said.
“Oh?” Mom asked.
“Yup. Because it helps me think about Dad and feel close to him.”
Mom smiled. “I think he’ll be happy to know you feel that way. And guess what? Dad will be home in only three days. You can show him your new skills.”
Donovan could hardly wait! “That gives me an idea,” he said.
He ran to find Dana. He could teach her to use the slingshot the same way Dad had taught him!
“Hey, Dana,” he said. “Wanna learn how to use the best slingshot in Jamaica?”
What special things help you feel close to someone in your family?