Gospel Story Finder

I saw that miracle of revelation in the aftermath of the breaking of the Teton Dam in Idaho in 1976. Many of you know the story of what happened. But the example of continuing revelation that was passed through a stake president could bless all of us in the days ahead.

Thousands of people were evacuated as their homes were destroyed. Directing the relief efforts fell to a local stake president, a farmer. I was in a classroom at Ricks College just a few days after the disaster. A leader from the federal disaster agency had arrived. He and his chief assistants came to the large room where the stake president had assembled bishops and even some ministers of other local religions. I was there because many of the survivors were being cared for and housed on the campus of the college where I was the president.

As the meeting began, the representative from the federal disaster agency stood and began to say with the voice of authority what needed to be done. After he listed each of the five or six tasks he said were essential, the stake president responded quietly, “We’ve already done that.”

After a few minutes, the man from the federal disaster agency said, “I think that I will just sit down and watch for a while.” He and his deputies then listened as bishops and elders quorum presidents reported what they had done. They described what direction they had received and followed from their leaders. They talked as well about what they had been inspired to do as they carried out the instructions to find families and to help them. It was late that day. They were all too tired to show much emotion except their love of the people.

The stake president gave a few final directions to the bishops, and then he announced a time for the next report meeting, early the following morning.

The next morning the leader of the federal team arrived 20 minutes before the report and assignment meeting was scheduled to begin. I stood nearby. I heard him say quietly to the stake president, “President, what would you like me and the members of my team to do?”

What that man saw I have seen in times of distress and testing all over the world. President Packer was right. Continuing revelation comes to stake presidents to lift them above their own wisdom and capacities. And, beyond that, the Lord gives to those whom the president leads a confirming witness that his commands come from God through the Holy Ghost to an imperfect human being.

The week after Christmas, my mom and dad talked to me about fasting for the first time. My dad explained that we fast to ask Heavenly Father for extra help or to tell Him that we are extra grateful. I decided to fast for my baby brother to feel better because he was teething and didn’t feel very good.
The night before fast Sunday, my dad helped me start my fast. At first I was nervous, but he helped me know what to say when I prayed. My dad said to pay attention to how I felt throughout my fast. I felt really good before I went to bed.
The next morning, I started getting hungry. But I had promised not to eat, so I kept my promise the best I could. I tried really hard not to complain. And I did activities to help me learn about Jesus so I wouldn’t just think about food. My dad fasted with me, and that helped a lot.
Later, I was really hungry and needed to end my fast earlier than I planned. I felt sad, but my parents said Heavenly Father just wants us to try. I know He loves us and is happy when I try.

Time after time, in meetings or by myself, my soul has been filled with joy at what I have experienced. One sacred occasion occurred during and after a high council hearing to consider a recommendation to rebaptize a brother who had been excommunicated. I was in the stake presidency then. During the hearing, we listened to the man bear testimony and express his desire to be rebaptized. I understood his longing to come back, and my soul was filled with joy to hear of his faithfulness in making his situation right. When he finished, he was excused from the room, and the court deliberated briefly, deciding to recommend rebaptism. The stake president asked me to inform the brother of the decision.

I went through the side door into the waiting room where he was seated alone, anxiously awaiting the decision. I took him by the hand as he stood and said, “My dear brother, the decision of the court is that you be rebaptized.” He fell into my arms, and we wept. How can I describe the joy that filled our souls as we benefitted from the loving influence of the Spirit?

My time is nearly up, but I must tell you about a young man whom we met–we were given his name before going over there but we did not know if we were going to be able to make contact with him. But on our first night in his area he made contact with us, and we made arrangements the following evening to go to his home. He met us on a corner and led us there. His wife could speak a little English; and Brother Jarvis, our tour director, could speak Russian and this man knew some Russian. We got along quite well.

On the basis of a little Church history book written in about 1965, this man had drawn close to the Church. He had found it in one of the English sections of the library there. And oh, how he loved the Church! He had gathered around him ten people who felt the same way, and they were meeting every week. None had been baptized; it was against the laws of the land to baptize in that country. But oh, how he wanted to be baptized! His information from this little history book was meager and outdated; he once asked, “Would you please take my love back to President McKay?” The material was so obsolete that he thought President McKay was still the President of the Church.

We would return to his area after five weeks of touring, so we left him with a copy of the Book of Mormon and a copy of A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, and his wife was going to translate them. When we came back, that little group of so-called Mormons was not ten strong but had grown to twenty-five in number. And a young man who had been helping us on our bus became so interested by our young people that he insisted on leaving this young man his name so that he could affiliate with this group of so-called Mormons and join in praying for the day when they might be baptized into this Church. Young people, do not ever take your Church membership for granted. It is vital; it is important.

Since joining the church, I have forged and strengthened my relationships with both friends and family. Prior to my baptism I had not spoken with my family for a number of years, but through understanding the gospel and the atonement of Jesus Christ, I realised that if I was to repair relations with my family I needed to make the first move. I went to them full of apologies and with a sincere intention to mend my relationship. I am happy to say that now the relationship with my mum and my dad has never been stronger.

Nodoka T.
“I was nervous when the counselor asked me to go to stake Young Women camp for the first time,” says Nodoka T. of Okinawa, Japan. “I decided to pray. After my prayer I felt comfortable, so I decided to go.
“From the very first day, I was able to make new friends. The young women were so nice and kind to me; my fear soon disappeared. And I learned to purify water, tie knots, make bandages, perform rescue breathing, and find edible plants!”

Robert Sorhaïtz is just such a man. Reared in the Pyrenees Mountains near the Spanish border, he is proud of his Basque heritage. But family traditions made gaining a testimony a challenge. “It was difficult for me to develop a testimony,” he says. “I gave my wife flowers when she was baptized, but the gospel was not for me. We attended church and prayed together for three years.

“Then one day we attended the baptism of a young man. I had been preparing, and I decided I wanted to be baptized, but I thought I would surprise my wife. So I left her side and found the bishop. He gave me an interview, I put on the wet clothes of the young man who had just been baptized, and I went forward. My wife cried with joy when she realized what was happening.” Since that time, Brother Sorhaïtz has been devoted to the gospel and has served as president of the Bayonne Branch three times.

Matt’s hero was his big brother Nate. Although Nate was ten years older than Matt, they were very good friends.
When Matt was seven, he wrote this essay for school:
Wouldn’t It Be Great If I Grew Up to Be Like My Big Brother?
Wouldn’t it be great if I grew up to be like my big brother? My big brother is an awesome basketball player. He can sink three-point shots, and he almost always makes his foul shots. He can really jump high, so he gets a lot of rebounds. My favorite thing is when he plays me a game of one-on-one. It is even fun to play when he beats me with all of his slam dunks. I’m glad I have such a neat big brother. I hope I can be the same kind of big brother to my little brother someday.
Matt still felt exactly the same way about his brother two years later, but along with those happy feelings were some feelings of sadness. Nate was nineteen now, and he had recently met with the bishop and stake president to send in his mission papers. Matt wanted Nate to serve a mission, but he knew that two years would seem like a very long time. He would really miss his brother.
When the mission-call envelope arrived in the mail, the family all sat around Nate. He read his call from the prophet:
You are hereby called to serve as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You are assigned to labor in the Brazil Florianopolis Mission. It is anticipated that you will serve for a period of twenty-four months.
Nate continued reading, but Matt didn’t hear the rest of the letter. All he understood was that his brother was going to go to a place Matt had never heard of and that he would be gone for two years. Matt knew that his family and Nate were excited, so he kept his sad feelings to himself and tried to share in the celebration.
The next few months were busy ones as everyone helped Nate prepare for his mission. They found maps and pictures of Brazil and hung them on the wall. Mom bought some tapes so that the family could all learn a few words of Portuguese. Nate bought a lot of white shirts and ties. Matt thought that Nate already looked like a missionary in his new suit.
Matt was very proud as Nate spoke in sacrament meeting on the Sunday before he was to leave. Matt felt all warm and fuzzy inside as Nate shared his testimony. As much as he was going to miss Nate, Matt knew that his brother was going to be an awesome missionary.
The day before Nate was to leave, Matt was out in the driveway, shooting a few hoops. He was trying to not feel sad, but tears were beginning to pool in his eyes.
“Hey, what’s up?” Nate asked as he rebounded the ball after Matt’s shot. Matt didn’t want Nate to see him cry, so he choked back the tears and challenged his older brother to a game.
Nate had noticed the tears in Matt’s eyes, though, and agreed to the game under one condition. “If I win, you have to make me a chocolate milk shake. Deal?”
“You’re on!” Matt grinned as he grabbed the ball, dribbled past Nate, and swished a three-point shot.
It was a hard-fought game, but Matt finally won by a point.
“Good game, champ!” Nate gave Matt a high five. “I hope that they have basketballs in Brazil so I can practice once in a while, or you’ll really skunk me in two years.”
Matt laughed, moving close to his big brother as they sat down under the shade of the apple tree in the backyard.
“I guess the treats are on me today.” Nate smiled as he handed Matt his favorite candy bar and pulled another from his pocket for himself.
“I was really hoping for a chocolate milk shake,” Nate said as he took the last bite of his candy bar. “I’m not sure I’ll get any of those in Brazil.”
Matt tried to smile, but a few tears slipped out of the corner of his eyes and down his cheeks.
Nate put his arm around his little brother. “I’ll be fine, champ. I think I’ll survive for two years without chocolate milk shakes.”
Matt smiled but couldn’t keep his voice from cracking. “You might survive without milk shakes, but I don’t know if I will survive without you.”
“Can I share a secret with you?” Nate said in a quiet voice.
Matt nodded.
“I’m really going to miss you and the rest of the family. I am also very nervous about going to a country so far away where they speak a different language.”
Matt was surprised. “If you’re nervous and scared, why are you going?”
Nate was quiet for a few moments. Then he said, “Champ, do you believe that President Hinckley is a true prophet of God?”
Matt nodded. “Sure I do.”
“Our prophet has said that all worthy young men should serve a mission. Even though I am nervous and know it will be very hard, I want to follow the prophet. If he says that the Lord wants me in Brazil, then I need to go.”
As Matt gave his brother a hug, he said, “I promise to write to you and pray for you. I really am glad that you are going on a mission.”
“I appreciate that, champ!” Nate wrapped his arms around Matt in a huge bear hug.
Although the next day, it was hard to tell his brother good-bye for two years, Matt thought that the Missionary Training Center was awesome. He had never seen so many missionaries, and he had a really warm, happy feeling inside while they were there. He knew that Nate would be all right.
After reading the letter, Matt sat down and wrote a letter to Nate. He told his brother how thankful he was that Nate was in Brazil, teaching people about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Matt also did some serious thinking. He didn’t want just to be a good basketball player like Nate when he grew up. He wanted to be like Nate and follow the prophet and be a good missionary, as well!

Many years ago I learned something very important from President Henry B. Eyring. He determined as a young father to ponder every night how the Lord’s hand was blessing his life. Here are his words:
I wrote down a few lines every day for years. . . . Before I would write, I would ponder this question: “Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch [my wife and me] or our children . . . today?” As I kept at it, something began to happen. As I would cast my mind over the day, I would see evidence of what God had done for one of us that I had not recognized in the busy moments of the day. As that happened, and it happened often, I realized that trying to remember had allowed God to show me what He had done.

I love everything about Christmas: the lights, carols, time with family—everything we do to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Oh, and I especially love getting presents. I start making my Christmas wish list in September.
One year my list was about as long as my arm. And I kept thinking of things to add to it. I was excited to show it to my dad. “Well, David, I see what you want to get for Christmas,” he said as he looked it over. “But what are you going to give?”
“I’m making gifts for you and Mom at school. On Friday Mom is taking me shopping for Shannon’s and Jon’s gifts. So I’ve got it all planned out.”
“Hmmm,” was all Dad said. For some reason he didn’t like my answer. I didn’t like the sound of “hmmm.”
The next family home evening, my parents discussed the idea of giving and getting and the true meaning of Christmas. I could see my wish list getting shorter by the minute. They asked us if we had any ideas to help us remember to be more giving. Shannon waved her hand excitedly. My older brother, Jon, and I groaned. With Shannon, ideas usually involved doing things for other people, like weeding our neighbors’ gardens.
“Let’s choose some people who are lonely or in need and anonymously leave presents on their doorsteps,” Shannon said with excitement.
“Not a bad idea,” Jon said. “It would be top secret.”
“This might actually be fun,” I thought.
We all agreed that it would be a great plan. We chose two families. One was the Swenson family in our ward. Since Brother Swenson had gone back to school, they never seemed to have enough money. They had lots of kids too, who would love getting Christmas surprises. The other family was Mr. and Mrs. Perez, an older couple who lived down the street. They always seemed a little lonely.
We all went shopping for the gifts. We agreed to buy them using some of the money we would have used for our own presents. That was fine with me. I was having way too much fun choosings toys for the younger Swenson boys. Somehow my stuff wasn’t that important anymore.
We decided to give one gift a night to each family starting 12 days before Christmas. When the first night came, I dressed in black from head to toe, and Jon drove me over to the Swensons’ house. I quietly put the first gift on the porch, rang the doorbell, and ran away as fast as I could. I jumped behind a fence just as one of the kids opened the door. I could hear their surprised voices as they discovered the present. I felt like I would explode with excitement and joy. My life as a Secret Giver had begun.
Things only got better—and harder. We had to go at different times every night and sometimes even in the morning because the Swenson kids started looking out the window to try to catch us. And every time I crept up to the Perez’s doorstep, I imagined Mrs. Perez waiting there, ready to fling the door open, give me a hug, and tell me how wonderful I was. I definitely had to avoid that. Keeping a secret was half the fun.
Well, that year was only the beginning. The Christmas after that, we chose a family whose daughter had been in the hospital 11 times that year and another family whose mom had cancer. Wow—I didn’t realize that some people had it so tough. Now that Christmas is here again, we’ve decided to help three families. The hardest part is choosing them. There seem to be so many people who could use a little Christmas cheer.
As for my own list? Each year it has gotten a little shorter. I’m so busy making my Secret Giver plans that I don’t have much time to think about myself. There are gifts to choose and strategies to plan.
One thing is certain—it’s great doing things for others. Nothing beats the feeling I get when I see the surprise and excitement on the faces of the people we help. Giving has become one of my favorite things about Christmas.

Tim had cried all the way home. He and his father had gone to the Tigers-Jammers game to see his hero, Bobby Joe Rankin. Even though Bobby Joe had scored thirty points, the Tigers had lost badly. When Tim had asked Bobby Joe for his autograph after the game, the basketball player had said, “Scram, kid.” Tim couldn’t understand how a basketball star could be so mean.
“Tim, you have every right to be upset,” said his father. He put his arm around Tim’s shoulder as they sat together on the couch. “Being a star doesn’t give anyone the right to be rude to people. Perhaps you’d better choose a new hero. On the way out I told Uncle Bill what had happened. Maybe he can remind Bobby Joe that fans have feelings too.”
Uncle Bill was an assistant trainer for the Tigers. He helped the players when they got hurt, and he had given Tim and his father the tickets for the Tigers-Jammers game.
There was a knock on the door. Tim’s father got up to see who it was. “Tim, there’s someone here to see you.”
Tim looked up. And up and up. It was Bobby Joe Rankin—all six feet, nine inches of him! Bobby Joe smiled and walked in and sat on the floor, cross-legged, in front of Tim. In that position, their eyes were just about on the same level.
For a while no one said anything; then Bobby Joe said, “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Tim. I was upset about the game because I’d played terribly. I only got three rebounds, and I played bad defense. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m sorry.”
Tim still couldn’t believe that Bobby Joe was actually sitting in front of him. It was several moments before he could get out, “That’s … that’s OK, Mr. Rankin.”
“Call me Bobby Joe, Tim.”
“OK, Mr. Rankin—I mean Bobby Joe. Hey, how did you know where to find me?”
“Well, after I showered, your Uncle Bill was waiting for me. Boy, did I get a chewing out.”
“You let Uncle Bill chew you out?” Tim asked, surprised. “But you’re the star of the team. And you’re a lot bigger than my uncle.”
Bobby Joe grinned. “Yes, I am. But so what? The important thing is that your uncle was right and I was wrong. So I took the scolding like a man. And now I want to shake your hand and thank you for forgiving me.”
Bobby Joe stuck out a huge hand, and Tim shook it. They both grinned like crazy. Then Tim remembered what he hadn’t been able to get at the game. “Bobby Joe, may I have your autograph now?”
“I was hoping that you’d ask.” The basketball player reached into an inside coat pocket and brought out a photograph of himself. At the bottom he had written, “For my friend, Tim Rusick. Best of luck. Your friend, Bobby Joe Rankin.”
Along with the picture were two tickets for the Tigers’ next home game, two weeks away.
“Wow! Thanks, Bobby Joe!”
“The seats are right behind the Tigers’ bench. Best seats in the house. I’ll play much better with my friends rooting for me!”
Tim could only repeat, “Thanks, Bobby Joe!”
The big man got up and headed for the door. As Tim’s father held the door open for him, Bobby Joe shook hands with Tim’s father and winked at Tim, saying, “See you at the game.”
After Bobby Joe had left, Tim gave the tickets to his father and stared happily at the picture in his hands. He looked up at his father and asked, “Dad, do you think it would be all right if I kept Bobby Joe Rankin for my hero?”
Mr. Rusick smiled. “I think that would be just fine.”

Home, family, and personal enrichment meeting is a wonderful place to socialize and establish the sisterhood necessary to create a sense of belonging among members of Relief Society and visitors. This is exemplified in an enrichment meeting held in Benidorm, Spain—a resort town where travelers are constantly coming and going. One evening sisters from Ecuador, Peru, Colombia, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland, England, Scotland, and Spain meet together for an enrichment meeting. On this particular night the sisters from Switzerland teach the others how to make greeting cards that can be used for various occasions. It is a simple design, easily mastered while the sisters visit and strengthen friendships.
As the sisters work together, their friendliness and sincerity soon overcome language barriers. The sister missionaries have brought some investigators who are chatting happily with the others. When these investigators visit the little branch again on Sunday, they already feel they belong to the group.
It is a simple activity, but this enrichment meeting accomplishes the goals of learning, serving, and socializing. Some of the sisters might have thought, “I don’t need to go. I have plenty of greeting cards.” But the greeting cards are only a small part of the benefit of attending enrichment meeting this night. Sometimes we attend to get something out of it. Other times we’re there to give to others, if only a listening ear, a word of encouragement, or a welcoming hand of friendship.

One time, Esther and Erica prepared a special family home evening when another family came to share it with them. First, the girls read a story about baptism from the Friend. Next, they acted out the story of Jesus Christ’s baptism with paper puppets they had made. Esther read the story from the scriptures while Erica moved the puppets. Then the girls showed the dresses they wore after their baptisms. They explained why they wore white and how they felt when they were baptized. Esther and Erica like to teach, and they are good examples for their younger sister, Lydia.

Living and growing up in the same coastal town, another teenager named James, 15-year-old James Hankin, is charting his own plans for travel and greatness. James desires to serve a full-time mission and has been preparing for the last six years. James has a lot of support in achieving this goal. His father, Blair, knows about missionary service, having served his mission in Haiti. And Blair returned there to donate service after the recent earthquakes.

When asked about his dad’s service in Haiti, James says, “He served his mission over there, so he can speak Creole. I’m really impressed. Basically, he’s working with an orphanage, taking medical supplies to them. I’m hoping I can actually go this summer.” The toy shop where James works part-time has also donated toys and supplies to be sent to the children of Haiti.

Service and missionary work are serious business for the Hankins. James’s mum started a missionary savings account for him when he was young. “I’m happy that my parents are helping me go on a mission,” James says, but he doesn’t leave all the saving to his parents. James has made considerable contributions to this account. Not only does he work Saturdays on Whitby Pier in a toy shop, but he also helps his sister and dad on a daily paper round (paper route). He delivers leaflets each month, and to top that off, he also offers to deliver leaflets for the local businesses in his area.

Of his missionary fund, James says, “I’ve got about 3,000 pounds [approximately 4,557 U.S. dollars] already saved up. And that’s by going to people I know and asking if they want leaflets delivered.”

Finances are only one aspect to James’s missionary preparation, along with scripture study, praying, and a lot of exercise thanks to many Young Men sport activities. The young men in the Scarborough ward go on regular visits with the missionaries. The Scarborough ward recently had a missionary service night where all the members of the ward went to a neighbouring village and knocked on doors for a few hours.

Along with being involved in the ward missionary efforts, James has enjoyed seminary this year. “I get a lot of support from the students and teachers. I do early morning study via computer rather than going to a house because we are quite spread out,” said James. The use of computers, Web-cameras, and online calling services is essential for the Scarborough/Bridlington seminary class. “If we did it without the computers, some of us would travel 30–45 minutes there and back every morning,” James explained. “We use Web-cam conference calls so we can all talk to and see each other and the teacher can see us. Our area is so big that this helps.” James appreciates the effort the ward goes to for all the youth to have seminary.

Samuel the Lamanite is another inspiration for James to serve a mission for the Church. James cites Helaman 13 as one of his favourite chapters in the Book of Mormon.

“I like Samuel preaching from the wall while the people fired arrows, rocks, and spears.” James said. “He had the bravery and courage to get on the wall and not be hit.” James hopes to emulate that bravery, courage, and faith as he follows in the footsteps of his father and other missionaries who faithfully went to serve the Lord on a full-time mission. Charting that voyage to success is all part of the plan.

As a fifth-grade teacher at a private school in Massachusetts, USA, I had been meeting with administrators to discuss the school’s diversity curriculum, which opposed the principles in “The Family: A Proclamation to the World.” My efforts to stand for truths about marriage and family and to promote objectivity, respect, and understanding, however, resulted in a storm of misunderstanding, ridicule, and persecution.
At times I felt like the Apostles crossing the tempest-tossed Sea of Galilee while Jesus slept. I felt that my faith, like theirs, had begun to falter, and I too wondered, “Carest thou not that [I] perish?” (Mark 4:38). I believed that Jesus had indeed rebuked the raging wind and waves long ago, but as my trials intensified, it became hard for me to trust that He would calm my storms.
One day a school administrator asked me to explain my concerns to the entire faculty and staff at a diversity-training meeting. As I prepared for this presentation, my personal prayers, scripture study, and temple attendance became increasingly sincere, and I felt the Spirit guiding me to know what to say.
When the time came to address my colleagues, I took courage from the words of the Prophet Joseph Smith: “Let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed” (D&C 123:17).
As I spoke, I felt the Spirit fill me with peace and power. I bore witness of God’s great love for His children and of their divine nature, amazing potential, and eternal worth. I taught that God’s commandments demonstrate His love because they provide the path to the greatest happiness. And I declared that Jesus Christ can heal wounds of both nature and nurture.
Before I knew it, my 30 minutes of allotted time had passed. I backed slowly away from the podium, gathered my papers, and looked up. A sacred stillness filled the room. Some people were smiling and others were crying. Teachers who held opposing views thanked me for my courage and conviction. One colleague confessed that she had been touched by a “special spirit” as I spoke. Others told me they had never heard such a sensitive and respectful articulation of such beliefs and that my words had helped them see that the school’s curriculum needed to change.
The Master, who had calmed the raging tempest by commanding, “Peace, be still” (Mark 4:39) had done it again—this time for me!
Through this experience, I learned that we are never alone when we stand for truth. The Lord’s help is ever near. As He promised, “I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up” (D&C 84:88).
With my whole soul, I testify that He is a God of deliverance. I know this truth because He rescued me. He calmed my storms.

When Sally was younger, she and her family lived in Japan for three years while her dad worked there. She learned to speak and write Japanese very well and made many good friends at school, in the neighborhood, and at church. When she was eight years old, her family moved back to America. Now Sally misses her friends in Japan, but she remembers the rice paddies, the ocean, the trains, the mountains, and the fireworks. She also remembers trying to catch eels with her bare hands at a festival.

Three months passed before I was interviewed and ordained a deacon. That Sunday morning I stood in front of the sacrament table to distribute the emblems of the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ. I still remember the surroundings: The dining room of a home had been transformed into a meeting hall for sacrament meetings that were attended by a few members. It was my first opportunity to magnify my priesthood calling. Nine months later I was ordained a teacher and learned how to teach and to watch over the few members of the branch.
Another four months passed, and I was ordained a priest. Now I stood on the other side of the sacrament table. The decor was the same, but I felt different. It impressed me that now I was blessing the emblems of the Atonement and memorizing “that they may eat in remembrance of the body of thy Son, and witness unto thee, … and always remember him and keep his commandments … that they may always have his Spirit to be with them” (D&C 20:77).
Two years passed after my baptism, and the day arrived for me to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood and to be ordained an elder. The mission president once again laid his hands upon my head. The higher authority and power to act in the name of the Lord were given.
The Church is a divine institution led by the authority of the priesthood. I testify that Jesus lives, that this is the only true church, that the priesthood of the Son of God is vested herein, and that the prophets, seers, and revelators who preside over this church are appointed to preserve the pure doctrine of Jesus Christ and the authority of his priesthood for the salvation of his people.

Recently I heard of an excommunicated man who stormed out of his Church court bitter and unrepentant. Many of us, if we had participated in that court, might have said, “Well good, he’ll have time to make his peace”; and others might even have thought, “Good riddance.” But one of the high councilors present spent three evenings a week for the next several years visiting this man until, mellowed, repentant, and regenerated, he was reinstated in the Church.
“Nothing is so much calculated to lead people to forsake their sin as to take them by the hand, and watch over them with tenderness.”

In 2016, Thanksgiving weekend, a nephew of mine was run over by a pickup truck in American Samoa. This is an account of what happened per my sister Siteine Rita. She received the call that Peni (delete “my nephew’s name) was run over by a pickup truck. The parents were fundraising at a carwash for a Baseball trip to Guam in 2017. Rita called Vili, Peni’s dad, her only question to him was: Have you administered a blessing? Vili, said: Mom, yes, it was the only thing that I could have done, and Peni’s life is in the Lord’s hand. Rita asked him again, how do you feel? Then he answered: Comforted.

The doctors put Peni through a scanner and the result was: there is not a broken bone, just a scratch on his side. The doctor said he does not believe a pickup truck could have run over him.... There were many people at the car wash who saw the accident.

Peni starts school in Kindergarten this year.... He is in Utah with his family, so very healthy, and if you see him, you do not believe that he was run over by a pickup truck.... Atoa & Vili, my niece and husband sealed their family in the Apia Samoa Temple in June 2016. They received covenants and blessings and I know Vili’s faith has grown with this experience. The Lord visited them through Peni’s accident.

Nate was walking home from school on Monday. He saw something shiny. It was a yellow truck in a sandbox. Yellow was his favorite color! He put the truck in his pocket.
At home, Nate took out the truck to play. But when he looked at it, he didn’t feel so good.
On Tuesday, Nate passed the sandbox again. This time he saw an orange truck.
This will go great with the yellow truck, Nate thought. He put it in his pocket. But when Nate got home, he felt bad inside.
The same thing happened Wednesday, when Nate took a purple truck.
On Thursday he took a green truck.
Each time he took a truck, Nate felt worse. But he still wanted to collect more.
On Friday, as Nate reached to grab a white truck from the sandbox, he heard a voice above him.
“I see you like trucks.”
Nate jumped back. A woman was smiling at him.
“My son, Cayden, is about your age,” the woman said. “He has been losing a lot of trucks lately. Do you know where they are?”
Nate gulped. He knew he was in trouble. But he also knew that telling the truth was the right thing.
“I have them at my house,” Nate said. “I’ll go get them!”
Nate ran home. He told Mom what had happened. They said a prayer. Nate told Heavenly Father he was sorry. He asked for the bad feelings to go away. Then they took the trucks back to the sandbox.
“Sorry I took your trucks,” Nate said to Cayden.
“Thanks for bringing them back,” Cayden said. “Want to play?”
Nate smiled and nodded. Playing with trucks had never been so fun. And next week, he would make better choices!