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Standing Tall
Summary: Judy explains that although there are few members in her town and some classmates have teased her, she remains confident in her faith. She invited a friend to attend church, and the friend came and liked it. Overall, her friends are understanding and ask questions about her beliefs.
There aren’t many members of the Church in Calci, but Judy doesn’t see that as a problem. Her gospel foundation remains unshaken. “A couple of friends have asked me about the Church,” she says. “I brought a friend with me to church, and she came and she liked it. Sometimes friends have made fun of me, or somebody in class heard that I attend a different church. But for the most part my friends are understanding, and they ask questions.”
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👤 Children
👤 Friends
Courage
Faith
Friendship
Missionary Work
Testimony
Grandfather’s Prayer
Summary: As a boy in Mexico, the narrator abandoned his duty to watch cattle and later found them missing. He prayed but felt unanswered, then sought his father's counsel. After repenting and promising to be responsible, he prayed again and, with his father, found the cattle. He learned that Heavenly Father answers prayers when we do our part and learn from the experience.
As a young boy living in Mexico, I was given the job of watching our cattle in the field as they grazed. One day I became bored with this chore and went off to play, leaving the cattle unattended. I played all day, returning to my chore only when it began to get late.
As I approached the field, I realized that the cattle were gone! I could picture my father’s face—how disappointed and angry he would be! I was his eldest son. He had taught me responsibility, and he was proud of me. How would he feel about me now? Quickly I searched for the cattle from one end of the field to the other. I couldn’t find them anywhere!
As I wondered what to do, I remembered something my father had taught me—that if I ever needed help, I could pray to my Father in Heaven and He would help me. I needed help then! I knelt and asked Heavenly Father to help me find the cattle. Then, sure that I would find them, I searched again.
The cattle were nowhere to be found! I became angry. I had prayed, as my father had taught me. Why hadn’t Heavenly Father answered my prayer?
I stormed home. I had almost forgotten about the cattle and how upset my father would be. I wanted to know why my prayer hadn’t been answered. My father listened patiently as I explained to him what had happened. In his wise way, he asked me what I would have done the next day if Heavenly Father had helped me find the cattle. “Would you go off and leave the cows again, thinking that your Father in Heaven would find them for you?”
After some thought, I replied, “Yes, that is probably what I would do.”
My father told me to kneel again—this time to ask for forgiveness and to promise that I would never again leave the cattle to go and play. I did as he said. Then, humbly, I once more asked Heavenly Father to help me find the cows. With my father by my side, I returned to the field and found the cattle there.
I learned an important lesson that day. Heavenly Father does not give us what we want just because we want it. He answers our prayers when we have done our part. And He answers them in a way that will help us become better people.
As I approached the field, I realized that the cattle were gone! I could picture my father’s face—how disappointed and angry he would be! I was his eldest son. He had taught me responsibility, and he was proud of me. How would he feel about me now? Quickly I searched for the cattle from one end of the field to the other. I couldn’t find them anywhere!
As I wondered what to do, I remembered something my father had taught me—that if I ever needed help, I could pray to my Father in Heaven and He would help me. I needed help then! I knelt and asked Heavenly Father to help me find the cattle. Then, sure that I would find them, I searched again.
The cattle were nowhere to be found! I became angry. I had prayed, as my father had taught me. Why hadn’t Heavenly Father answered my prayer?
I stormed home. I had almost forgotten about the cattle and how upset my father would be. I wanted to know why my prayer hadn’t been answered. My father listened patiently as I explained to him what had happened. In his wise way, he asked me what I would have done the next day if Heavenly Father had helped me find the cattle. “Would you go off and leave the cows again, thinking that your Father in Heaven would find them for you?”
After some thought, I replied, “Yes, that is probably what I would do.”
My father told me to kneel again—this time to ask for forgiveness and to promise that I would never again leave the cattle to go and play. I did as he said. Then, humbly, I once more asked Heavenly Father to help me find the cows. With my father by my side, I returned to the field and found the cattle there.
I learned an important lesson that day. Heavenly Father does not give us what we want just because we want it. He answers our prayers when we have done our part. And He answers them in a way that will help us become better people.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
Agency and Accountability
Forgiveness
Parenting
Prayer
Repentance
Stewardship
Father Christmas
Summary: A teen watches her once-kind father grow bitter after business losses and inactivity in church. The bishop invites him to play Santa at a ward party, and their faithful home teacher, Brother Darrin, prays, fasts, and leaves a loving note. The father unexpectedly arrives as Santa, promises Mom he’ll return to church, and later serves in the bishopric. The family recognizes the change as a miracle brought by love and ministering.
He was a mean, gruff man. Every word that came out of his mouth was angry and sharp. His words always dug into us. He was mad at the world, mad at life, mad at God.
We hoped that the Christmas spirit would flicker in his soul. But, as with the rest of his dreams that year, the candle was being snuffed out.
Oh, he hadn’t always been that way. He used to be loving and funny. He had a quick wit. That disappeared when he stopped going to church.
I can’t remember when my dad became mean and gruff. It happened gradually. He sort of shifted that way like sand.
Mom and I are regular churchgoers. Maybe that’s why we can deal with anger so well. We know God loves us. We know that he loves Dad too. Though I guess it’s sometimes hard even for Him.
Dad was a big man. The kind that could play Santa Claus without the pillows. The bishop must have thought so too because he marched right over to our house after church and asked Dad to play Santa Claus that year.
Has he lost his marbles? I thought. Who’d want a Santa that would yell at the kids?
Dad thought it was just silly so he laughed sarcastically. I heard bitterness in his voice as he said, “Inactive for years—now he’s giving me a job that I don’t need any brains to do.”
The bishop stared and so did I. He should have known, I thought to myself.
“You think it over, Brother Henderson,” the bishop said and made a speedy exit. Dad just grunted and turned on his noisy TV.
“Think it over all right,” I complained to Mom later. “He wants a miracle.” I was disgusted with the whole thing by now. “Dad will never do it.”
Mom just stood there listening. She was a quiet person—the type that would take lots from Dad and never say very much. The type that sat alone in church every Sunday while I sat with my friends. The type that taught a rambunctious Primary class and smiled.
“We mustn’t give up, Andi. There’s a part of him that someone still might reach,” Mom said. Here was a woman who hadn’t heard a home teaching message for years because Dad refused, and she was telling me about miracles.
“Hogwash!” I answered. I hurried out the door to catch a movie.
I suppose that I should have been more understanding of Dad. After all, his business had been ruined. He had lost everything when his store burned down. We had lived on borrowed money until he could rebuild. He must have felt defeated. I guess that’s why he wasn’t going to play Santa—mainly because he had stopped believing there was one. He had stopped believing in himself. He just sat there in his chair watching television reruns. I sometimes thought he didn’t really watch them. Maybe it was just there to keep him from thinking or hurting. I was beginning to think that no one could help him. But there was Brother Darrin.
Brother Darrin was our long-suffering home teacher. He came every month. He always acted like he expected Dad to let him give a lesson. Brother Darrin was short and thin and soft spoken. Dad couldn’t wait to give him a hard time. The teachers quorum had to draw straws to see who would come with poor Brother Darrin. Dad had scared them all, one by one. But through it all, Brother Darrin was persistent.
I listened just to see how Brother Darrin would sneak the gospel in. One minute he and Dad would be talking about fishing, and Brother Darrin would put in loaves and fishes before Dad could get his next word out. The strangest thing was that Dad liked Brother Darrin.
I knew that Brother Darrin must have said his prayers the week before the Christmas party because he was starting out rather boldly. “Brother Henderson, do you believe in miracles?” I just gulped and pretended to be a fly on the ceiling. I knew Dad was going to explode. When I finally started to breathe again, I heard Dad say, “No, not anymore.” The silence hung heavy in the air.
Brother Darrin continued, “Well, I do, Brother Henderson. I’ll see you at the Christmas party.” He added quickly—“in a Santa suit.” Out he went, leaving Dad to glare at Mom and me as if it were our fault. He got up and turned on the TV.
“Doesn’t even faze him,” I whispered to Mom. “He’s as hard as an old rusty nail.” That time I said it pretty loud.
I soon learned from Tricia Darrin that her father had been fasting and praying for Dad. “Won’t help,” I promptly informed her. “Tell him to stop before he gets anorexia.”
She giggled for a minute. “He’s serious, Andi.”
As I knelt to say my prayers that night, I found myself thanking Heavenly Father for a dedicated home teacher. I even began begging to somehow get my dad back to church even if it was just to the cultural hall to play Santa.
The night of the Christmas party finally arrived. Mom and I carried our fruitcakes to the car as usual. When we came back in the house, Dad was in his chair watching television. “Good-bye, we’re leaving,” we announced. He grunted a good-bye without even looking up. Suddenly an envelope slid under the door. I handed it to Dad since it had his name printed on the front. We left feeling empty and downhearted. I knew Mom felt worse than I did because she started to hum. Humming usually meant tears.
We went to the program and watched the Primary act out the Nativity, including a sheep that fell off the stage during the big scene.
We tried not to think of Dad sitting in front of the TV when he should be here with us. Across the aisle was Brother Darrin.
Soon the big announcement came for Santa. The air filled with anticipation. “Wonder who they got?” I asked Mom. She just answered, “Some unfortunate stand-in.”
“Ho ho ho!” the shouts soon resounded in the hall. The children started to squeal in joy. The jolly Santa sounded familiar, like a sound that I had heard long ago. As I turned I gasped, for I couldn’t believe my eyes. Mom must have turned about the same time.
“Dad,” I said in a strange voice.
“It’s a miracle,” said Mom. Her voice was strange too. Her eyes were swimming in a pool of green. I looked over at Brother Darrin. He just winked and smiled.
Mom went up and got in line to sit on Santa’s lap. “Hi, good looking,” he said to her. “I think I know what you’d like for Christmas.” By this time her tears were spilling over into his glued on beard. “You’d like your husband to come back to church.” She just nodded and cried. “I think Old Santa can arrange that.” He gave her a quick kiss, “Move along, kid. Santa’s got others to see.”
I’ve never seen Mom look so happy, nor the bishop and Brother Darrin for that matter. They all looked like they swallowed chocolate-covered ice cream and it tasted sweet.
I couldn’t understand miracles right then, but I remembered the note that came under the door. I decided that it must have had something to do with it. I ran the whole block home just to read it. What it said shocked me. Scribbled in uneven handwriting were the words:
Dear Brother Henderson:
I believe in you and I love you.
Brother Darrin
I guess that’s why it was the best Christmas ever. Dad thought so too. He’s now the second counselor in the bishopric, and that, he says ironically, is a job that nobody should have, not even Santa Claus. Secretly he loves it—just ask Mom. Too bad she still has to sit alone in church. Now, though, she probably doesn’t mind so much.
We hoped that the Christmas spirit would flicker in his soul. But, as with the rest of his dreams that year, the candle was being snuffed out.
Oh, he hadn’t always been that way. He used to be loving and funny. He had a quick wit. That disappeared when he stopped going to church.
I can’t remember when my dad became mean and gruff. It happened gradually. He sort of shifted that way like sand.
Mom and I are regular churchgoers. Maybe that’s why we can deal with anger so well. We know God loves us. We know that he loves Dad too. Though I guess it’s sometimes hard even for Him.
Dad was a big man. The kind that could play Santa Claus without the pillows. The bishop must have thought so too because he marched right over to our house after church and asked Dad to play Santa Claus that year.
Has he lost his marbles? I thought. Who’d want a Santa that would yell at the kids?
Dad thought it was just silly so he laughed sarcastically. I heard bitterness in his voice as he said, “Inactive for years—now he’s giving me a job that I don’t need any brains to do.”
The bishop stared and so did I. He should have known, I thought to myself.
“You think it over, Brother Henderson,” the bishop said and made a speedy exit. Dad just grunted and turned on his noisy TV.
“Think it over all right,” I complained to Mom later. “He wants a miracle.” I was disgusted with the whole thing by now. “Dad will never do it.”
Mom just stood there listening. She was a quiet person—the type that would take lots from Dad and never say very much. The type that sat alone in church every Sunday while I sat with my friends. The type that taught a rambunctious Primary class and smiled.
“We mustn’t give up, Andi. There’s a part of him that someone still might reach,” Mom said. Here was a woman who hadn’t heard a home teaching message for years because Dad refused, and she was telling me about miracles.
“Hogwash!” I answered. I hurried out the door to catch a movie.
I suppose that I should have been more understanding of Dad. After all, his business had been ruined. He had lost everything when his store burned down. We had lived on borrowed money until he could rebuild. He must have felt defeated. I guess that’s why he wasn’t going to play Santa—mainly because he had stopped believing there was one. He had stopped believing in himself. He just sat there in his chair watching television reruns. I sometimes thought he didn’t really watch them. Maybe it was just there to keep him from thinking or hurting. I was beginning to think that no one could help him. But there was Brother Darrin.
Brother Darrin was our long-suffering home teacher. He came every month. He always acted like he expected Dad to let him give a lesson. Brother Darrin was short and thin and soft spoken. Dad couldn’t wait to give him a hard time. The teachers quorum had to draw straws to see who would come with poor Brother Darrin. Dad had scared them all, one by one. But through it all, Brother Darrin was persistent.
I listened just to see how Brother Darrin would sneak the gospel in. One minute he and Dad would be talking about fishing, and Brother Darrin would put in loaves and fishes before Dad could get his next word out. The strangest thing was that Dad liked Brother Darrin.
I knew that Brother Darrin must have said his prayers the week before the Christmas party because he was starting out rather boldly. “Brother Henderson, do you believe in miracles?” I just gulped and pretended to be a fly on the ceiling. I knew Dad was going to explode. When I finally started to breathe again, I heard Dad say, “No, not anymore.” The silence hung heavy in the air.
Brother Darrin continued, “Well, I do, Brother Henderson. I’ll see you at the Christmas party.” He added quickly—“in a Santa suit.” Out he went, leaving Dad to glare at Mom and me as if it were our fault. He got up and turned on the TV.
“Doesn’t even faze him,” I whispered to Mom. “He’s as hard as an old rusty nail.” That time I said it pretty loud.
I soon learned from Tricia Darrin that her father had been fasting and praying for Dad. “Won’t help,” I promptly informed her. “Tell him to stop before he gets anorexia.”
She giggled for a minute. “He’s serious, Andi.”
As I knelt to say my prayers that night, I found myself thanking Heavenly Father for a dedicated home teacher. I even began begging to somehow get my dad back to church even if it was just to the cultural hall to play Santa.
The night of the Christmas party finally arrived. Mom and I carried our fruitcakes to the car as usual. When we came back in the house, Dad was in his chair watching television. “Good-bye, we’re leaving,” we announced. He grunted a good-bye without even looking up. Suddenly an envelope slid under the door. I handed it to Dad since it had his name printed on the front. We left feeling empty and downhearted. I knew Mom felt worse than I did because she started to hum. Humming usually meant tears.
We went to the program and watched the Primary act out the Nativity, including a sheep that fell off the stage during the big scene.
We tried not to think of Dad sitting in front of the TV when he should be here with us. Across the aisle was Brother Darrin.
Soon the big announcement came for Santa. The air filled with anticipation. “Wonder who they got?” I asked Mom. She just answered, “Some unfortunate stand-in.”
“Ho ho ho!” the shouts soon resounded in the hall. The children started to squeal in joy. The jolly Santa sounded familiar, like a sound that I had heard long ago. As I turned I gasped, for I couldn’t believe my eyes. Mom must have turned about the same time.
“Dad,” I said in a strange voice.
“It’s a miracle,” said Mom. Her voice was strange too. Her eyes were swimming in a pool of green. I looked over at Brother Darrin. He just winked and smiled.
Mom went up and got in line to sit on Santa’s lap. “Hi, good looking,” he said to her. “I think I know what you’d like for Christmas.” By this time her tears were spilling over into his glued on beard. “You’d like your husband to come back to church.” She just nodded and cried. “I think Old Santa can arrange that.” He gave her a quick kiss, “Move along, kid. Santa’s got others to see.”
I’ve never seen Mom look so happy, nor the bishop and Brother Darrin for that matter. They all looked like they swallowed chocolate-covered ice cream and it tasted sweet.
I couldn’t understand miracles right then, but I remembered the note that came under the door. I decided that it must have had something to do with it. I ran the whole block home just to read it. What it said shocked me. Scribbled in uneven handwriting were the words:
Dear Brother Henderson:
I believe in you and I love you.
Brother Darrin
I guess that’s why it was the best Christmas ever. Dad thought so too. He’s now the second counselor in the bishopric, and that, he says ironically, is a job that nobody should have, not even Santa Claus. Secretly he loves it—just ask Mom. Too bad she still has to sit alone in church. Now, though, she probably doesn’t mind so much.
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👤 Parents
👤 Youth
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Church Members (General)
Apostasy
Christmas
Conversion
Ministering
Miracles
Prayer
Feedback
Summary: A young athlete training for cross-country realizes she is slower than her teammates and wants to quit. She prays for encouragement and finds her answer in a New Era article. She rereads it whenever she doubts her performance.
I wanted to let you know that “And the Winner Is …” (September 1991) was the answer to my prayers. For several months I’ve been training for the cross-country team to get in shape. As the season began, I realized I was much slower than my teammates. I wanted to quit, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did, so I asked Heavenly Father for encouragement.
When I read Brother DeHaan’s article, I knew I had received my answer. Now I read it whenever I have doubts about my performance on the team.
Meredith QuinnPasadena, California
When I read Brother DeHaan’s article, I knew I had received my answer. Now I read it whenever I have doubts about my performance on the team.
Meredith QuinnPasadena, California
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👤 Youth
Adversity
Doubt
Endure to the End
Faith
Prayer
Holiness to the Lord, the House of the Lord
Summary: The author met missionaries in the early 1990s and developed a deep desire to attend the temple, even carrying a picture of the Salt Lake Temple during his mission in Haiti and resolving to marry in the temple. After the Santo Domingo Temple was dedicated in 2000, he was sealed to his wife. He later rejoiced when President Thomas S. Monson announced the Port-au-Prince Haiti Temple, and the temple’s open house and dedication profoundly impacted him. Visitors, including a journalist, shared powerful impressions of their temple experience.
In the early 1990s when I met the missionaries, I was interested by all that they taught me. However, I was particularly fascinated by the teachings about the temple. I used my best efforts to deepen my knowledge of the house of the Lord on earth. I shared with the missionaries my desire to go to the temple, and they taught me how to prepare myself for this goal. At that time, there were no temples yet in the Caribbean Area.
Thus, I began my full-time mission in Haiti without having had the opportunity to receive my endowment in the house of the Lord. I found a picture of the Salt Lake Temple in a Church magazine, and I carried it with me wherever I served in the mission field. I always put it in front of my desk and wrote under it, “I want to get married in the temple.”
I was filled with joy when the Santo Domingo Dominican Republic Temple was dedicated in 2000. I have been given the opportunity to be sealed with my wife in the house of the Lord. Later in the April 2015 general conference, I felt even more blessed when President Thomas S. Monson (1927-2018) announced the Port-au-Prince Haiti Temple. The public open house and the dedication of the Port-au-Prince Haiti Temple has marked my life and deepened my understanding of the importance of the temple on earth. In response to my question “How would you describe your experience in the temple?” a visitor said, “I have no words to describe it, I certainly have been in a celestial location,” and a journalist replied, “I don’t know what to say, but in the celestial room, I had a strange feeling that I have never had before.”
Thus, I began my full-time mission in Haiti without having had the opportunity to receive my endowment in the house of the Lord. I found a picture of the Salt Lake Temple in a Church magazine, and I carried it with me wherever I served in the mission field. I always put it in front of my desk and wrote under it, “I want to get married in the temple.”
I was filled with joy when the Santo Domingo Dominican Republic Temple was dedicated in 2000. I have been given the opportunity to be sealed with my wife in the house of the Lord. Later in the April 2015 general conference, I felt even more blessed when President Thomas S. Monson (1927-2018) announced the Port-au-Prince Haiti Temple. The public open house and the dedication of the Port-au-Prince Haiti Temple has marked my life and deepened my understanding of the importance of the temple on earth. In response to my question “How would you describe your experience in the temple?” a visitor said, “I have no words to describe it, I certainly have been in a celestial location,” and a journalist replied, “I don’t know what to say, but in the celestial room, I had a strange feeling that I have never had before.”
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👤 Missionaries
👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
Conversion
Marriage
Missionary Work
Sealing
Temples
Testimony
Choosing the Outdoor Life
Summary: Talon Hobbs of Franklin, Idaho, loves working on his family farm because of the quiet, steady life it offers and the freedom to choose his work each day. He explains that farm life is hard in every season, even during bitter winters and holiday chores, but his family has made those challenges part of their tradition.
Although he hopes to one day own part of the farm, Talon knows he will need more education in animal science, plant science, and business management to improve it. He is also preparing for a mission, and he says an example from a girl at the start of high school helped strengthen his testimony and his commitment to the Church.
The day we interviewed Talon Hobbs of Franklin, Idaho, it was easy to see why he loved his small family farm so much. The hill behind their fields glowed gold in the sun and was plastered against the dark green of the mountains. The sky was intense blue. The air was clean and crisp, with the drifting scents of fresh hay and distant animals. It was the kind of day that makes you want to stand still and enjoy where you are and what you are doing.
In fact, that is exactly the reason Talon gives for wanting to go into the family business. At 18, he has learned from his father how to do virtually every job on the farm. “My dad tells me what I need to get done, but I can choose what I do throughout the day. It’s really quiet. You’re not stressed. You get to have your quiet time. That’s what I really like about it.”
But it’s not easy work. There’s no such thing as procrastination when chores need to be done and animals cared for. “I figure you might as well get the worst job done first, then you get to do the easier ones. There is always something to do.”
And what about when it’s winter, when it’s 20º below with the snow blowing? Talon shrugs because he doesn’t really see that as the worst thing. “You just have to deal with it.” He goes on to explain how his parents will give their hired hands the day off on holidays such as Christmas. “We used to groan and moan about it when we were little, but now it’s our family tradition to be on the farm on Christmas Day doing the chores together.”
Ironically, the only way that Talon Hobbs will get to own part of the family farm and the outdoor life he craves is by getting more indoor learning. “I’ve always wanted to farm, even when I was little. I wanted to have some of my own animals, but Dad didn’t want me to get too tied down. He wanted to give us the opportunity to go to college. I plan to go into animal science. I’d like to take some plant science classes, and learn how to add to the farm and make it better. I’ll need to learn some small business management. I figure it’s better for me to take classes than struggle my whole life trying to figure it out.”
In the meantime Talon is getting ready for another kind of advanced education, his mission. Looking back, his mission preparation has been going on for years. He tells of meeting a girl just as they were starting high school and how he admired how she stood up for the gospel. He says, “I saw that she could be strong at that age, and her example made me realize that I also knew the Church is true. It made me think. Choosing to follow the Church may not always be the popular thing to do, but it’s always the best.”
In fact, that is exactly the reason Talon gives for wanting to go into the family business. At 18, he has learned from his father how to do virtually every job on the farm. “My dad tells me what I need to get done, but I can choose what I do throughout the day. It’s really quiet. You’re not stressed. You get to have your quiet time. That’s what I really like about it.”
But it’s not easy work. There’s no such thing as procrastination when chores need to be done and animals cared for. “I figure you might as well get the worst job done first, then you get to do the easier ones. There is always something to do.”
And what about when it’s winter, when it’s 20º below with the snow blowing? Talon shrugs because he doesn’t really see that as the worst thing. “You just have to deal with it.” He goes on to explain how his parents will give their hired hands the day off on holidays such as Christmas. “We used to groan and moan about it when we were little, but now it’s our family tradition to be on the farm on Christmas Day doing the chores together.”
Ironically, the only way that Talon Hobbs will get to own part of the family farm and the outdoor life he craves is by getting more indoor learning. “I’ve always wanted to farm, even when I was little. I wanted to have some of my own animals, but Dad didn’t want me to get too tied down. He wanted to give us the opportunity to go to college. I plan to go into animal science. I’d like to take some plant science classes, and learn how to add to the farm and make it better. I’ll need to learn some small business management. I figure it’s better for me to take classes than struggle my whole life trying to figure it out.”
In the meantime Talon is getting ready for another kind of advanced education, his mission. Looking back, his mission preparation has been going on for years. He tells of meeting a girl just as they were starting high school and how he admired how she stood up for the gospel. He says, “I saw that she could be strong at that age, and her example made me realize that I also knew the Church is true. It made me think. Choosing to follow the Church may not always be the popular thing to do, but it’s always the best.”
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👤 Parents
👤 Youth
Adversity
Christmas
Employment
Family
A Pitcher of Mud
Summary: Sarah hosts her friend Janeen for a sleepover, but Janeen starts telling an inappropriate joke and story. Feeling uneasy, Sarah asks her to stop, and Janeen agrees. The next day, Sarah’s mom uses a crystal pitcher filled with mud versus lemonade to teach that our minds should be kept clean by avoiding harmful words and messages. The girls understand and commit to choose clean language and media.
“Sarah,” Mom called, “Janeen is here.” As Sarah started down the stairs, she ticked off plans in her mind. First I’ll show Janeen my new soccer ball, and then we’ll make jewelry with her bead set. Later we can watch that new video Mom bought. And tomorrow, Janeen will help me learn a new kick shot. It was going to be the best weekend ever!
Sarah paused. What if Janeen doesn’t like staying over at my house? Everyone wanted to be Janeen’s friend. She was really nice, and she was one of the best soccer players on the team.
Sarah forgot her worries as Janeen waved to her from the bottom of the stairs. “Come on up!” Sarah called.
The two girls laughed and chattered while they rearranged Sarah’s basket collection and strung beads. Then Mom put on the movie, which was even better than Sarah had expected it to be. Janeen laughed so hard that she spilled her popcorn.
When the movie was over, they went to the kitchen while Sarah’s mom fixed them ice-cream floats. Janeen gazed at the top cupboard and admired the elegant bowls and glasses that sat on the shelves. The most beautiful piece was a large pitcher.
“That crystal pitcher has been in my family for many years,” Mom explained. “My mother gave it to me on my wedding day.”
“We only use it for special occasions,” Sarah added.
When the girls finished their ice cream, it was time for bed. After Mom said good night and the girls went upstairs, Sarah whispered, “Janeen, are you sleepy?”
“Not at all!”
“Mom said she doesn’t mind if we talk until we get sleepy, as long as we’re quiet.”
“Great!” Janeen whispered. “Did I ever tell you the joke I heard from my big sister’s friend?”
As Janeen spoke, Sarah’s eyes grew large and her stomach started to feel strange, as if something she had eaten didn’t agree with her. The joke wasn’t really funny, and Janeen used words that Sarah knew were wrong to say. What should I do? she wondered. If I ask Janeen to stop talking like this, she might think I’m acting like a baby.
When Janeen finished her joke, she started to tell Sarah a story she’d heard at school. She had forgotten about being quiet and was talking right out loud, and Sarah knew that Heavenly Father didn’t want her to hear this story, either.
Her face grew hot, and by this time, there was a gigantic lump in her stomach. If I tell Janeen I don’t want to hear any more, she might get mad at me. Maybe she’ll even want to go home. After a few more words, though, Sarah couldn’t listen any longer.
“Janeen,” she interrupted, “I think we should stop talking about this kind of stuff, OK?”
Janeen grew quiet.
Sarah took a deep breath and rushed on, “My parents have told me I shouldn’t listen to that kind of story or use those words. And they don’t make me feel very good inside.”
Janeen was silent for a while. Then she said, “OK. They don’t make me feel good inside, either, really. You know, I think it’s neat that you talk about this kind of stuff with your mom and dad.”
Sarah let out her breath, and the lump in her stomach started to shrink.
The next morning after breakfast, Sarah’s mom suggested, “Why don’t you go outside for a game of soccer?”
With a whoop, the girls scrambled for the ball. They played hard. The sun was hot, and there were lots of tumbles as they practiced blocking shots. Finally Sarah stopped under a shade tree at the edge of the yard. “Whew! Time for a break!”
They raced for the back door.
“Mom, is there anything to drink?” Sarah called as the girls washed their hands.
“How about lemonade?”
Sarah and Janeen grinned at each other and opened the refrigerator.
They froze in place, their eyes glued to the second shelf.
Instead of ice-cold lemonade, Mom’s beautiful crystal pitcher was filled to the brim with smelly, black mud!
The girls turned around to find Mom standing behind them. Chuckling at the expression on their faces, she invited, “Sit down for a minute.”
As they sat at the table, Mom continued, “Girls, I’d like to talk to you about something. I guess you didn’t hear me coming upstairs last night. As I passed your bedroom, I heard you talking.”
Sarah stared at her mom, then glanced at Janeen, who was studying the floor. Janeen’s face was red, and Sarah knew that hers was too.
“Just as I was about to knock, you decided to stop, so I thought I’d speak to you this morning, instead.”
Seeing their stricken faces, Mom added gently, “Don’t worry—I’m not angry with you. But I would like to explain why Heavenly Father doesn’t want you to say or hear things like what you were talking about last night.
“Imagine yourself on a sizzling hot day in the summertime. You’ve been outside playing for a long time, and you’re thirsty.”
The girls nodded—that’s what had just happened!
“Now, you’ve come into the house and opened the refrigerator. A tall pitcher of cold lemonade is waiting for you, and you know that it’s going to taste great.” She smiled and brought out a frosty container of real lemonade and some glasses. “Did you know that, in a way, our minds are like a pitcher?”
Sarah and Janeen gave each other a puzzled look.
“First, remember that whenever we see or hear something, it goes into our minds, and it’s there for keeps. Now, when you saw the crystal pitcher last night, how did it look?”
“Beautiful!” Janeen exclaimed. “It was clean and sparkling.”
“If we allow ourselves to see or hear only good things, then our minds stay clean and pure, like lovely crystal. Our thoughts and ideas are uplifting to others around us, just like icy lemonade makes everyone happy on a hot day.
“Now,” Mom asked, her eyes twinkling, “what would you think if you opened the refrigerator and instead of lemonade, found the pitcher with mud?” She placed the pitcher in front of Janeen and Sarah.
“Yuck!” they chorused.
“Right!” Mom said, smiling. “Yuck is the word.” Then her face grew serious. “You know, if we put wrong messages and bad language into our minds, it’s like filling this container with mud—pretty soon we feel sick.”
Sarah remembered last night’s lump in her stomach and nodded.
Mom reached over to wipe a smudge of dust from Janeen’s face. “And if the ‘mud’ is on the inside, we can’t just take a cloth and scrub ourselves clean.”
The girls were silent awhile, thinking and staring at the now-not-so-pretty pitcher in front of them.
“So, if we fill our minds with good words and ideas, we’ll think about them and be happy. We can help our friends feel good, too, right?” Janeen asked, hesitantly.
“We won’t stay healthy inside if the things in our minds are harmful, just like we wouldn’t feel too great if we ate some mud!” Sarah added.
“That’s right.” Sarah’s mother agreed. “I think you understand very well.” She smiled again and poured each girl a big glass of the real lemonade before taking the other pitcher to clean it.
Soon Sarah and Janeen went outside to continue their game. As she was closing in to score a goal, Janeen stopped suddenly. “You know, the pitcher-of-mud idea your mom showed us is really cool. I never thought about why listening to some jokes makes me feel bad inside. I’m going to explain it to Kim the next time she tells me that kind of story.”
When it was almost time to take Janeen home, Mom called, “Girls, it’s a long ride to Janeen’s house. Would you like a drink before you leave?”
Sarah and Janeen looked at each other and grinned. “Lemonade, please,” they giggled, “and hold the mud!”
Sarah paused. What if Janeen doesn’t like staying over at my house? Everyone wanted to be Janeen’s friend. She was really nice, and she was one of the best soccer players on the team.
Sarah forgot her worries as Janeen waved to her from the bottom of the stairs. “Come on up!” Sarah called.
The two girls laughed and chattered while they rearranged Sarah’s basket collection and strung beads. Then Mom put on the movie, which was even better than Sarah had expected it to be. Janeen laughed so hard that she spilled her popcorn.
When the movie was over, they went to the kitchen while Sarah’s mom fixed them ice-cream floats. Janeen gazed at the top cupboard and admired the elegant bowls and glasses that sat on the shelves. The most beautiful piece was a large pitcher.
“That crystal pitcher has been in my family for many years,” Mom explained. “My mother gave it to me on my wedding day.”
“We only use it for special occasions,” Sarah added.
When the girls finished their ice cream, it was time for bed. After Mom said good night and the girls went upstairs, Sarah whispered, “Janeen, are you sleepy?”
“Not at all!”
“Mom said she doesn’t mind if we talk until we get sleepy, as long as we’re quiet.”
“Great!” Janeen whispered. “Did I ever tell you the joke I heard from my big sister’s friend?”
As Janeen spoke, Sarah’s eyes grew large and her stomach started to feel strange, as if something she had eaten didn’t agree with her. The joke wasn’t really funny, and Janeen used words that Sarah knew were wrong to say. What should I do? she wondered. If I ask Janeen to stop talking like this, she might think I’m acting like a baby.
When Janeen finished her joke, she started to tell Sarah a story she’d heard at school. She had forgotten about being quiet and was talking right out loud, and Sarah knew that Heavenly Father didn’t want her to hear this story, either.
Her face grew hot, and by this time, there was a gigantic lump in her stomach. If I tell Janeen I don’t want to hear any more, she might get mad at me. Maybe she’ll even want to go home. After a few more words, though, Sarah couldn’t listen any longer.
“Janeen,” she interrupted, “I think we should stop talking about this kind of stuff, OK?”
Janeen grew quiet.
Sarah took a deep breath and rushed on, “My parents have told me I shouldn’t listen to that kind of story or use those words. And they don’t make me feel very good inside.”
Janeen was silent for a while. Then she said, “OK. They don’t make me feel good inside, either, really. You know, I think it’s neat that you talk about this kind of stuff with your mom and dad.”
Sarah let out her breath, and the lump in her stomach started to shrink.
The next morning after breakfast, Sarah’s mom suggested, “Why don’t you go outside for a game of soccer?”
With a whoop, the girls scrambled for the ball. They played hard. The sun was hot, and there were lots of tumbles as they practiced blocking shots. Finally Sarah stopped under a shade tree at the edge of the yard. “Whew! Time for a break!”
They raced for the back door.
“Mom, is there anything to drink?” Sarah called as the girls washed their hands.
“How about lemonade?”
Sarah and Janeen grinned at each other and opened the refrigerator.
They froze in place, their eyes glued to the second shelf.
Instead of ice-cold lemonade, Mom’s beautiful crystal pitcher was filled to the brim with smelly, black mud!
The girls turned around to find Mom standing behind them. Chuckling at the expression on their faces, she invited, “Sit down for a minute.”
As they sat at the table, Mom continued, “Girls, I’d like to talk to you about something. I guess you didn’t hear me coming upstairs last night. As I passed your bedroom, I heard you talking.”
Sarah stared at her mom, then glanced at Janeen, who was studying the floor. Janeen’s face was red, and Sarah knew that hers was too.
“Just as I was about to knock, you decided to stop, so I thought I’d speak to you this morning, instead.”
Seeing their stricken faces, Mom added gently, “Don’t worry—I’m not angry with you. But I would like to explain why Heavenly Father doesn’t want you to say or hear things like what you were talking about last night.
“Imagine yourself on a sizzling hot day in the summertime. You’ve been outside playing for a long time, and you’re thirsty.”
The girls nodded—that’s what had just happened!
“Now, you’ve come into the house and opened the refrigerator. A tall pitcher of cold lemonade is waiting for you, and you know that it’s going to taste great.” She smiled and brought out a frosty container of real lemonade and some glasses. “Did you know that, in a way, our minds are like a pitcher?”
Sarah and Janeen gave each other a puzzled look.
“First, remember that whenever we see or hear something, it goes into our minds, and it’s there for keeps. Now, when you saw the crystal pitcher last night, how did it look?”
“Beautiful!” Janeen exclaimed. “It was clean and sparkling.”
“If we allow ourselves to see or hear only good things, then our minds stay clean and pure, like lovely crystal. Our thoughts and ideas are uplifting to others around us, just like icy lemonade makes everyone happy on a hot day.
“Now,” Mom asked, her eyes twinkling, “what would you think if you opened the refrigerator and instead of lemonade, found the pitcher with mud?” She placed the pitcher in front of Janeen and Sarah.
“Yuck!” they chorused.
“Right!” Mom said, smiling. “Yuck is the word.” Then her face grew serious. “You know, if we put wrong messages and bad language into our minds, it’s like filling this container with mud—pretty soon we feel sick.”
Sarah remembered last night’s lump in her stomach and nodded.
Mom reached over to wipe a smudge of dust from Janeen’s face. “And if the ‘mud’ is on the inside, we can’t just take a cloth and scrub ourselves clean.”
The girls were silent awhile, thinking and staring at the now-not-so-pretty pitcher in front of them.
“So, if we fill our minds with good words and ideas, we’ll think about them and be happy. We can help our friends feel good, too, right?” Janeen asked, hesitantly.
“We won’t stay healthy inside if the things in our minds are harmful, just like we wouldn’t feel too great if we ate some mud!” Sarah added.
“That’s right.” Sarah’s mother agreed. “I think you understand very well.” She smiled again and poured each girl a big glass of the real lemonade before taking the other pitcher to clean it.
Soon Sarah and Janeen went outside to continue their game. As she was closing in to score a goal, Janeen stopped suddenly. “You know, the pitcher-of-mud idea your mom showed us is really cool. I never thought about why listening to some jokes makes me feel bad inside. I’m going to explain it to Kim the next time she tells me that kind of story.”
When it was almost time to take Janeen home, Mom called, “Girls, it’s a long ride to Janeen’s house. Would you like a drink before you leave?”
Sarah and Janeen looked at each other and grinned. “Lemonade, please,” they giggled, “and hold the mud!”
Read more →
👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Friends
Children
Courage
Friendship
Movies and Television
Obedience
Parenting
Teaching the Gospel
Virtue
The Rescued Books
Summary: After finding the Book of Mormon and meeting a Latter-day Saint missionary, the narrator begins investigating the Church and asks priests about baptism for the dead. Dissatisfied with their answers, she later reads The Plan of Salvation and gains a testimony that the Church is true. She asks to be baptized, is taught by the missionaries, and is baptized on Easter Sunday, 7 April 1985. Afterward, she shares her testimony, pays tithing, serves a mission, and works in the Manila Philippines Temple.
The next week, I went to visit my mother in Manila. I asked her where I could find a priest to answer my questions. She suggested that I go to a Bible class my brother and sister were attending. I did as she said, praying in my heart that I would be able to ask my question. To my surprise, the priest began to explain the importance of baptism. I wasted no time, but raised my hand and asked, “Was there baptism for the dead before, as stated in 1 Corinthians 15:29 [1 Cor. 15:29]?” He read the verse aloud, then looked at his watch and dismissed the class. He said, “I will talk to you in my office.” He got his Greek translation of the Bible and other books, then started explaining the Resurrection. I said, “That is not the issue; I believe in the Resurrection.” After more than two hours of discussion, I was still not satisfied. He lent me two books to read.
The next day I asked the same question of an older priest. He told me that baptism for the dead was no longer necessary.
On April 1, the paper mill was temporarily shut down. I was reading a pamphlet called The Plan of Salvation when I began to feel a certainty that what I was reading was true. The Holy Ghost was bearing witness, making everything clear to me. I knew that Joseph Smith was a prophet, that the Church was true. I was crying. I had found something so precious. I wanted to tell my co-workers, but they would not understand. I went home early and found Karen at my home. “I know that the plan of salvation is true,” I told her, “and I want to be baptized.” She arranged for the missionaries to teach me.
The following day, I had my first discussion with Elder Johnson and Elder Barangan. I had such a strong desire to be baptized that I went to their home very early the next morning. When I told them of my desire, Elder Johnson told me that to be baptized I must obey the Word of Wisdom and attend church. I said, “I started obeying the Word of Wisdom when I saw the filmstrip, and I have attended the church several times.” They taught me three more discussions. Then on Easter Sunday, 7 April 1985, I was baptized. I felt that this was the very moment I had waited for since I was born.
That day was also Fast Sunday. I fasted, shared my testimony in sacrament meeting, and paid my tithing for the first time. After sharing my testimony, I had an even stronger conviction that I had made the right decision. I felt complete—no longer drifting, but with sure direction. I know that the Spirit bore witness to me.
Since my baptism, I have served a mission and have been an ordinance worker in the Manila Philippines Temple.
I feel so blessed to have the gospel in my life. I know that the Book of Mormon I rescued from the trash is the book that rescued me.
The next day I asked the same question of an older priest. He told me that baptism for the dead was no longer necessary.
On April 1, the paper mill was temporarily shut down. I was reading a pamphlet called The Plan of Salvation when I began to feel a certainty that what I was reading was true. The Holy Ghost was bearing witness, making everything clear to me. I knew that Joseph Smith was a prophet, that the Church was true. I was crying. I had found something so precious. I wanted to tell my co-workers, but they would not understand. I went home early and found Karen at my home. “I know that the plan of salvation is true,” I told her, “and I want to be baptized.” She arranged for the missionaries to teach me.
The following day, I had my first discussion with Elder Johnson and Elder Barangan. I had such a strong desire to be baptized that I went to their home very early the next morning. When I told them of my desire, Elder Johnson told me that to be baptized I must obey the Word of Wisdom and attend church. I said, “I started obeying the Word of Wisdom when I saw the filmstrip, and I have attended the church several times.” They taught me three more discussions. Then on Easter Sunday, 7 April 1985, I was baptized. I felt that this was the very moment I had waited for since I was born.
That day was also Fast Sunday. I fasted, shared my testimony in sacrament meeting, and paid my tithing for the first time. After sharing my testimony, I had an even stronger conviction that I had made the right decision. I felt complete—no longer drifting, but with sure direction. I know that the Spirit bore witness to me.
Since my baptism, I have served a mission and have been an ordinance worker in the Manila Philippines Temple.
I feel so blessed to have the gospel in my life. I know that the Book of Mormon I rescued from the trash is the book that rescued me.
Read more →
👤 Parents
👤 Other
Baptism
Baptisms for the Dead
Bible
Faith
Prayer
Focusing on a Forever Family
Summary: Kevin and Jacqueline in El Salvador continued to attend church and pray after their parents became less active, hoping their family could be sealed. As the temple neared completion, they invited their parents to the cultural celebration and open house, where the experience deeply touched their family. Their parents began returning to church, the family held family home evening, and together they watched the temple dedication broadcast. They set a goal to be sealed in the temple.
Kevin and Jacqueline S., a brother and sister in El Salvador, are the best of friends, and they stick together in everything. They have a great love for the gospel and for their family. They want their family to be together forever.
When Kevin and Jacqueline were younger, people at church would ask their father, “When are you going to be sealed in the temple?” And he would respond, “When there is a temple in El Salvador.”
However, by the time the San Salvador El Salvador Temple was announced in 2007, Kevin and Jacqueline’s parents had stopped attending church. But Kevin, now 18, and Jacqueline, 15, kept going to church, praying that one day their parents would return.
“I never stopped praying and asking Heavenly Father that they would become active again,” Jacqueline says. “I know Heavenly Father wants the best for us, and He wants us to be an eternal family.”
They also tried to be good examples for their parents. “I never lost hope,” Kevin says. “I always read the scriptures and prayed, and my parents would see me study and leave to go do home teaching visits and to go to Church activities. As I worked to keep the commandments and to progress, my parents saw my example.”
Kevin and Jacqueline’s prayers for their parents began to be answered as the temple neared completion. “When our leaders announced the dedication and cultural celebration, we invited our parents,” Kevin says. “We told them about the privilege we would have as youth to participate, and this motivated them a lot and helped them progress spiritually.”
In addition to attending the cultural celebration, the family was also able to attend the temple open house.
“Even though my parents hadn’t been going to church, they still view the Church and the gospel as something sacred,” Kevin says. “When we entered the temple, my father began explaining to my sisters and me that when we enter the temple, we wear white and that this is where we perform sacred ordinances.”
Kevin was amazed that his two-year-old sister, who normally has a lot of energy, remained quiet while they were inside the temple, and he noticed how his mother had tears in her eyes as she viewed the different rooms and paintings. When the family entered a sealing room, a volunteer tour guide explained to them that this is where families are sealed together forever.
“Our little sister then began to touch each one of us and say, ‘My mom, my dad, my Kevin, my Jacqueline,’” says Jacqueline. “It was like Heavenly Father spoke through her to tell us that we are all hers.”
“Then she hugged us and started giving us kisses and pointing to the mirrors,” Kevin says. “We looked at ourselves together in the mirrors, and it was amazing. When we left the sealing room that day, we made a goal to be able to get back there.”
After attending the temple open house, the family began making some changes. “Since we went to the temple, our family has regained perspective,” Kevin says. “Since then we have been having family home evening, and our parents are bringing us to church and sitting with us on the front row of the chapel.”
In August 2011, Kevin and Jacqueline felt blessed to sit with their parents in the stake center as they viewed the broadcast of the temple dedication.
“When the temple was announced in 2007, my parents were less active, and I thought I would never have the opportunity to be with them at the dedication,” Kevin says. “When they were sitting with me, I could really feel that Heavenly Father had answered my prayers. To be there with my family was one of the greatest blessings I have had in my life.”
“This experience of the temple has strengthened me,” Jacqueline says. “What has strengthened me more than anything is seeing that the temple changes lives, because it helped my parents become active in the Church again. Now we have made the goal that we will be sealed in the temple. I know Heavenly Father wants the best for us.”
When Kevin and Jacqueline were younger, people at church would ask their father, “When are you going to be sealed in the temple?” And he would respond, “When there is a temple in El Salvador.”
However, by the time the San Salvador El Salvador Temple was announced in 2007, Kevin and Jacqueline’s parents had stopped attending church. But Kevin, now 18, and Jacqueline, 15, kept going to church, praying that one day their parents would return.
“I never stopped praying and asking Heavenly Father that they would become active again,” Jacqueline says. “I know Heavenly Father wants the best for us, and He wants us to be an eternal family.”
They also tried to be good examples for their parents. “I never lost hope,” Kevin says. “I always read the scriptures and prayed, and my parents would see me study and leave to go do home teaching visits and to go to Church activities. As I worked to keep the commandments and to progress, my parents saw my example.”
Kevin and Jacqueline’s prayers for their parents began to be answered as the temple neared completion. “When our leaders announced the dedication and cultural celebration, we invited our parents,” Kevin says. “We told them about the privilege we would have as youth to participate, and this motivated them a lot and helped them progress spiritually.”
In addition to attending the cultural celebration, the family was also able to attend the temple open house.
“Even though my parents hadn’t been going to church, they still view the Church and the gospel as something sacred,” Kevin says. “When we entered the temple, my father began explaining to my sisters and me that when we enter the temple, we wear white and that this is where we perform sacred ordinances.”
Kevin was amazed that his two-year-old sister, who normally has a lot of energy, remained quiet while they were inside the temple, and he noticed how his mother had tears in her eyes as she viewed the different rooms and paintings. When the family entered a sealing room, a volunteer tour guide explained to them that this is where families are sealed together forever.
“Our little sister then began to touch each one of us and say, ‘My mom, my dad, my Kevin, my Jacqueline,’” says Jacqueline. “It was like Heavenly Father spoke through her to tell us that we are all hers.”
“Then she hugged us and started giving us kisses and pointing to the mirrors,” Kevin says. “We looked at ourselves together in the mirrors, and it was amazing. When we left the sealing room that day, we made a goal to be able to get back there.”
After attending the temple open house, the family began making some changes. “Since we went to the temple, our family has regained perspective,” Kevin says. “Since then we have been having family home evening, and our parents are bringing us to church and sitting with us on the front row of the chapel.”
In August 2011, Kevin and Jacqueline felt blessed to sit with their parents in the stake center as they viewed the broadcast of the temple dedication.
“When the temple was announced in 2007, my parents were less active, and I thought I would never have the opportunity to be with them at the dedication,” Kevin says. “When they were sitting with me, I could really feel that Heavenly Father had answered my prayers. To be there with my family was one of the greatest blessings I have had in my life.”
“This experience of the temple has strengthened me,” Jacqueline says. “What has strengthened me more than anything is seeing that the temple changes lives, because it helped my parents become active in the Church again. Now we have made the goal that we will be sealed in the temple. I know Heavenly Father wants the best for us.”
Read more →
👤 Youth
👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Church Members (General)
Apostasy
Conversion
Faith
Family
Family Home Evening
Prayer
Sealing
Temples
Young Men
Young Women
The Responsibility of Young Aaronic Priesthood Bearers
Summary: The speaker recalls being ordained a deacon after his bishop father passed away, feeling the weight of priesthood responsibility. He and his quorum accounted for members, served the elderly and widows, and cared for the meetinghouse. Those experiences, guided by teachers, deepened their sense of belonging and prepared them to be the Savior’s servants.
My father was our bishop, but he died before I received the priesthood. I remember so clearly being ordained a deacon. A new world opened up for me. I was now living on a higher plane. As I would hear people say, “You hold the priesthood,” it was not easy to fully comprehend. But with humble teachers, we began to understand that as deacons we had been given blessings and authority to do sacred things.
As quorum officers we accounted for all of our members and would see that they were all at church. We enjoyed being together. We chopped wood for the elderly and the widows, filled the coal bins at church, cleaned the meetinghouse every Saturday afternoon, swept the steps, raked the gravel yard, saw that the sacrament trays and lace sacrament cloths were clean and fresh, and had real pride in the appearance of our little meetinghouse.
We were part of the Church and the Church was part of us. We knew it; we felt it! We held the priesthood of God! Understanding teachers guided us and helped us broaden our vision and our ever-expanding role as young men; but more important, they helped prepare us to be called in our youth to be servants of our Savior. He needs every one of you young men who hold the priesthood. I testify that this work is true. I do it humbly, in the holy name of Jesus Christ, amen.
As quorum officers we accounted for all of our members and would see that they were all at church. We enjoyed being together. We chopped wood for the elderly and the widows, filled the coal bins at church, cleaned the meetinghouse every Saturday afternoon, swept the steps, raked the gravel yard, saw that the sacrament trays and lace sacrament cloths were clean and fresh, and had real pride in the appearance of our little meetinghouse.
We were part of the Church and the Church was part of us. We knew it; we felt it! We held the priesthood of God! Understanding teachers guided us and helped us broaden our vision and our ever-expanding role as young men; but more important, they helped prepare us to be called in our youth to be servants of our Savior. He needs every one of you young men who hold the priesthood. I testify that this work is true. I do it humbly, in the holy name of Jesus Christ, amen.
Read more →
👤 Parents
👤 Youth
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Church Members (General)
Bishop
Death
Jesus Christ
Ministering
Priesthood
Sacrament
Service
Testimony
Young Men
It Started with a Pamphlet
Summary: A missionary’s pamphlet given in Korea in 1969 led Cho Joong Hyun to investigate the Church, receive a spiritual witness, and be baptized. His faith then influenced his siblings, parents, spouse, children, and grandchildren, eventually bringing the entire family into the Church over more than 20 years. The story concludes by showing how their family continues in leadership, missionary service, and generational faithfulness.
One day in the summer of 1969, a young missionary in Chuncheon, Republic of Korea, handed a pamphlet on the purpose of life to the man at the post office who distributed the foreign mail. The young elder probably had no idea what a chain of conversions he had begun.
Neither did the postal worker who accepted the pamphlet. Cho Joong Hyun did not know why his civil service job had taken him so far from his home in Suncheon, near the southern tip of the Korean peninsula. Only later would he come to understand that he had to be in that place at that time to receive the pamphlet.
This small incident would lead to the conversion of his entire family, as well as many others they would later influence. But those conversions would not come easily. “It took more than 20 years to get all of my family baptized,” he says. Through his efforts, his parents and his brothers and sisters and their spouses and children have come to enjoy the blessings of the gospel.
Cho Joong Hyun’s own conversion was difficult. The pamphlet given to him by the missionary was “really good,” he says, in that it provided answers about the purpose of life that he had never been able to find in the Christian church he formerly attended. Still, he did not think an unknown American church could be taken seriously, so he tossed the pamphlet into a drawer and forgot it for a time.
He forgot it until early one morning when, awakening after another evening of drinking and billiards with friends, he lay thinking that he ought to change his life. Then he remembered the pamphlet that gave him answers.
The first Sunday he attended a Latter-day Saint meeting, he was not impressed. The rented building was small, and the congregation at Sunday School, he recalls, consisted of the missionaries, their cook, a grandmother and two children, and a couple of college students.
But the answers supplied by that pamphlet, along with the humility and testimony of the young elders, kept him talking to the missionaries, even though he was wary of their Church. He remembers arguing with them about religion. When they quoted scriptures from the Book of Mormon, he thought to himself, “These guys are really good at making this up. It sounds like the Bible.” They gave him a Book of Mormon with Moroni 10:3–5 printed by hand in the front of it, carrying the promise that the reader would learn of the truth of the book through the Holy Ghost. Remembering the story of Joseph Smith, Cho Joong Hyun went to his favorite spot in the mountains to offer his personal prayer. But he received no immediate answer.
Then one day as he sat in a library reading the Book of Mormon and the Doctrine and Covenants, he clearly heard a voice speak to him saying, “These are true, and they are mine.” He looked around to see if anyone else had heard the voice. Tears streamed down his face as he realized the message had been for him alone.
After his baptism and confirmation in 1969, the world changed for Joong Hyun. People and things that had seemed disagreeable before no longer did. He saw beauty around him, even though nothing was different. He spent time going door-to-door with the missionaries sharing his testimony.
He had to put his missionary work aside for a time while he served in the military during the Vietnam War. But he began trying to share the gospel again when he returned home to Suncheon in the mid-1970s.
There were no other Church members in the city. One way he tried to change that was to give copies of the Book of Mormon to people he met. “I thought I needed to share this true and precious book,” he says. Little came of that, however. His greatest impact as a missionary would be with his own brothers and sisters.
His youngest sister, Cho Sungja (Korean women retain their birth family name after marriage), recalls that at first her brother simply held family home evenings with his brothers and sisters and taught gospel principles. But eventually he introduced them to missionaries.
His youngest sister accepted the gospel readily. She felt the Holy Ghost testify to her of the truth of Joseph Smith’s First Vision. Members of another faith had shown her a scripture in the book of Revelation that they said warned against adding to the words of that book (see Revelation 22:18–19). But as she opened the Book of Mormon one day to read in 2 Nephi 29, some of the verses in that chapter told her of the need for additional revelation (see vv. 11–14), and again she felt the Spirit testify that it was true.
Her father was against her joining the Church, but finally, in answer to her prayers, he gave his consent. She was baptized and confirmed in 1976, at age 16.
Like her pioneering elder brother, Joong Hyun, Sungja wanted to share the gospel she had found. She shared it freely with friends at school, and eventually five of them were also baptized and confirmed.
Sungja’s next oldest brother, Cho Yong Hyun, had listened to the missionaries with his siblings. Their parents were busy running the family restaurant, and Joong Hyun, the second son, was frequently charged with caring for his younger brothers and sisters. His siblings all learned to love him and trust his judgment. “I really respected my older brother, so when he first introduced the gospel to me, I could accept it,” Yong Hyun says.
But Yong Hyun’s conversion was not based on his brother’s testimony alone; he received his own strong witness of the truth, and once a member, he dedicated himself to serving faithfully.
That dedication led him, while he was a college student, to want to serve a mission—a choice his father opposed. But Yong Hyun won his father’s consent by promising to be a better student when he returned, and he kept that promise.
Father and son would clash over the Church again some years later when Yong Hyun was offered a position with the Church Educational System. He was doing well in his job with an oil refining firm at the time, but he accepted the Church position and has served as CES coordinator in the Gwangju area of southern Korea since 1986. His father opposed the change, considering it unwise for his son to leave a good position with a prestigious firm to work for a relatively unknown church that had started in America. His father said later that he had cried bitterly over Yong Hyun’s decision and had come close to disowning him. Fortunately, the rift was healed.
All of the Cho brothers and sisters will say that their father was the hardest opponent to their studying and living the gospel. He could be demanding and, in his traditional role as head of the family, expected obedience.
But some of the siblings also had their own reservations about the Church. The second daughter, Cho Gil Ja, had doubts centered in part on why her older brother was asked to give so much service to his church without being paid, as ministers were in other churches. She dated, married, and was raising her own young children before she finally heeded her brother’s request to listen to the missionaries.
When they asked her to read the Book of Mormon, she became absorbed in the reading and finished the book in three days. She heeded Moroni’s admonition to pray about its teachings and received a strong confirmation that they are true. At that point, she says, “I felt there must be something I could do for God.” The impression she received in answer to this desire was that she too should attend church and serve.
Gil Ja had learned service by example. Her mother always lived by that principle, serving Church members even before she became one herself.
Her mother had come to love the members of the Church and the sister missionaries who wanted to teach her. But it was difficult to give up her traditional religion. In her closet she had a small statue of Buddha to which she prayed each day. The turning point in her conversion came after she dreamed that she was praying to her Buddha when it began to cry tears from its painted eyes and slowly turned its back on her. She understood that the dream meant it was time for her to follow a new religious path.
Three years after her baptism and confirmation, her husband—by then the lone member of the family who was still outside the Church—finally consented to listen to the gospel and was converted. After he joined the Church, he became a changed man, his children say—sweeter, kinder, more tolerant.
Some 26 years after Cho Joong Hyun’s baptism, all of his family were at last members of the Church. It was a high point for the family when their mother and father were sealed in the Seoul Korea Temple. A touching moment for the entire family came at a later gathering when the Cho children sang to their father the lullaby he had sung to them when they were small.
Their mother served faithfully in the Church until the end of her life. Even in the hospital, suffering from stomach cancer, she was a missionary to the young woman in the next bed, introducing her to the gospel.
Her sons and daughters carry on the tradition of service. There are two President Chos in the family. Yong Hyun, the CES coordinator, has served in a variety of priesthood leadership callings through the years and is currently president of the stake in Gwangju. Cho Joong Hyun, who led the way into the Church for his family, has also served in a variety of leadership roles in Suncheon, including district president. He is currently president of the Suncheon Branch. Cho Gil Ja has served for more than 16 years as president of the Relief Society in the ward and stake. Other brothers and sisters in the family are active in their own areas as well, and all are married to active members.
Seven of the Cho children and grandchildren have served as missionaries so far, and still others are preparing to serve. Several of the children and grandchildren have married returned missionaries. Now the fourth generation of Chos is beginning to be reared in the Church. Their days have not been free of life’s difficulties, but blessings have come through their obedience.
The missionary who handed that pamphlet to a young postal worker nearly four decades ago could not have known what would grow from the small seed he planted. But the harvest has been plentiful—and it may be only beginning.
Neither did the postal worker who accepted the pamphlet. Cho Joong Hyun did not know why his civil service job had taken him so far from his home in Suncheon, near the southern tip of the Korean peninsula. Only later would he come to understand that he had to be in that place at that time to receive the pamphlet.
This small incident would lead to the conversion of his entire family, as well as many others they would later influence. But those conversions would not come easily. “It took more than 20 years to get all of my family baptized,” he says. Through his efforts, his parents and his brothers and sisters and their spouses and children have come to enjoy the blessings of the gospel.
Cho Joong Hyun’s own conversion was difficult. The pamphlet given to him by the missionary was “really good,” he says, in that it provided answers about the purpose of life that he had never been able to find in the Christian church he formerly attended. Still, he did not think an unknown American church could be taken seriously, so he tossed the pamphlet into a drawer and forgot it for a time.
He forgot it until early one morning when, awakening after another evening of drinking and billiards with friends, he lay thinking that he ought to change his life. Then he remembered the pamphlet that gave him answers.
The first Sunday he attended a Latter-day Saint meeting, he was not impressed. The rented building was small, and the congregation at Sunday School, he recalls, consisted of the missionaries, their cook, a grandmother and two children, and a couple of college students.
But the answers supplied by that pamphlet, along with the humility and testimony of the young elders, kept him talking to the missionaries, even though he was wary of their Church. He remembers arguing with them about religion. When they quoted scriptures from the Book of Mormon, he thought to himself, “These guys are really good at making this up. It sounds like the Bible.” They gave him a Book of Mormon with Moroni 10:3–5 printed by hand in the front of it, carrying the promise that the reader would learn of the truth of the book through the Holy Ghost. Remembering the story of Joseph Smith, Cho Joong Hyun went to his favorite spot in the mountains to offer his personal prayer. But he received no immediate answer.
Then one day as he sat in a library reading the Book of Mormon and the Doctrine and Covenants, he clearly heard a voice speak to him saying, “These are true, and they are mine.” He looked around to see if anyone else had heard the voice. Tears streamed down his face as he realized the message had been for him alone.
After his baptism and confirmation in 1969, the world changed for Joong Hyun. People and things that had seemed disagreeable before no longer did. He saw beauty around him, even though nothing was different. He spent time going door-to-door with the missionaries sharing his testimony.
He had to put his missionary work aside for a time while he served in the military during the Vietnam War. But he began trying to share the gospel again when he returned home to Suncheon in the mid-1970s.
There were no other Church members in the city. One way he tried to change that was to give copies of the Book of Mormon to people he met. “I thought I needed to share this true and precious book,” he says. Little came of that, however. His greatest impact as a missionary would be with his own brothers and sisters.
His youngest sister, Cho Sungja (Korean women retain their birth family name after marriage), recalls that at first her brother simply held family home evenings with his brothers and sisters and taught gospel principles. But eventually he introduced them to missionaries.
His youngest sister accepted the gospel readily. She felt the Holy Ghost testify to her of the truth of Joseph Smith’s First Vision. Members of another faith had shown her a scripture in the book of Revelation that they said warned against adding to the words of that book (see Revelation 22:18–19). But as she opened the Book of Mormon one day to read in 2 Nephi 29, some of the verses in that chapter told her of the need for additional revelation (see vv. 11–14), and again she felt the Spirit testify that it was true.
Her father was against her joining the Church, but finally, in answer to her prayers, he gave his consent. She was baptized and confirmed in 1976, at age 16.
Like her pioneering elder brother, Joong Hyun, Sungja wanted to share the gospel she had found. She shared it freely with friends at school, and eventually five of them were also baptized and confirmed.
Sungja’s next oldest brother, Cho Yong Hyun, had listened to the missionaries with his siblings. Their parents were busy running the family restaurant, and Joong Hyun, the second son, was frequently charged with caring for his younger brothers and sisters. His siblings all learned to love him and trust his judgment. “I really respected my older brother, so when he first introduced the gospel to me, I could accept it,” Yong Hyun says.
But Yong Hyun’s conversion was not based on his brother’s testimony alone; he received his own strong witness of the truth, and once a member, he dedicated himself to serving faithfully.
That dedication led him, while he was a college student, to want to serve a mission—a choice his father opposed. But Yong Hyun won his father’s consent by promising to be a better student when he returned, and he kept that promise.
Father and son would clash over the Church again some years later when Yong Hyun was offered a position with the Church Educational System. He was doing well in his job with an oil refining firm at the time, but he accepted the Church position and has served as CES coordinator in the Gwangju area of southern Korea since 1986. His father opposed the change, considering it unwise for his son to leave a good position with a prestigious firm to work for a relatively unknown church that had started in America. His father said later that he had cried bitterly over Yong Hyun’s decision and had come close to disowning him. Fortunately, the rift was healed.
All of the Cho brothers and sisters will say that their father was the hardest opponent to their studying and living the gospel. He could be demanding and, in his traditional role as head of the family, expected obedience.
But some of the siblings also had their own reservations about the Church. The second daughter, Cho Gil Ja, had doubts centered in part on why her older brother was asked to give so much service to his church without being paid, as ministers were in other churches. She dated, married, and was raising her own young children before she finally heeded her brother’s request to listen to the missionaries.
When they asked her to read the Book of Mormon, she became absorbed in the reading and finished the book in three days. She heeded Moroni’s admonition to pray about its teachings and received a strong confirmation that they are true. At that point, she says, “I felt there must be something I could do for God.” The impression she received in answer to this desire was that she too should attend church and serve.
Gil Ja had learned service by example. Her mother always lived by that principle, serving Church members even before she became one herself.
Her mother had come to love the members of the Church and the sister missionaries who wanted to teach her. But it was difficult to give up her traditional religion. In her closet she had a small statue of Buddha to which she prayed each day. The turning point in her conversion came after she dreamed that she was praying to her Buddha when it began to cry tears from its painted eyes and slowly turned its back on her. She understood that the dream meant it was time for her to follow a new religious path.
Three years after her baptism and confirmation, her husband—by then the lone member of the family who was still outside the Church—finally consented to listen to the gospel and was converted. After he joined the Church, he became a changed man, his children say—sweeter, kinder, more tolerant.
Some 26 years after Cho Joong Hyun’s baptism, all of his family were at last members of the Church. It was a high point for the family when their mother and father were sealed in the Seoul Korea Temple. A touching moment for the entire family came at a later gathering when the Cho children sang to their father the lullaby he had sung to them when they were small.
Their mother served faithfully in the Church until the end of her life. Even in the hospital, suffering from stomach cancer, she was a missionary to the young woman in the next bed, introducing her to the gospel.
Her sons and daughters carry on the tradition of service. There are two President Chos in the family. Yong Hyun, the CES coordinator, has served in a variety of priesthood leadership callings through the years and is currently president of the stake in Gwangju. Cho Joong Hyun, who led the way into the Church for his family, has also served in a variety of leadership roles in Suncheon, including district president. He is currently president of the Suncheon Branch. Cho Gil Ja has served for more than 16 years as president of the Relief Society in the ward and stake. Other brothers and sisters in the family are active in their own areas as well, and all are married to active members.
Seven of the Cho children and grandchildren have served as missionaries so far, and still others are preparing to serve. Several of the children and grandchildren have married returned missionaries. Now the fourth generation of Chos is beginning to be reared in the Church. Their days have not been free of life’s difficulties, but blessings have come through their obedience.
The missionary who handed that pamphlet to a young postal worker nearly four decades ago could not have known what would grow from the small seed he planted. But the harvest has been plentiful—and it may be only beginning.
Read more →
👤 Missionaries
👤 Church Members (General)
Baptism
Book of Mormon
Conversion
Diversity and Unity in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
Faith
Holy Ghost
Joseph Smith
Missionary Work
Prayer
Repentance
Revelation
Scriptures
Testimony
The Restoration
The Futility of Fear
Summary: Days after baptism in England, the speaker was called to head the Nottingham Branch youth program. Though new and feeling inadequate, he knew the Lord had need of him. In a small Church environment, all were anxiously engaged in building the kingdom.
From time to time I meet members of the Church who do not feel able to take responsibility as an officer or a teacher in the Church. I tell them of my experience in England. Literally within days of baptism, I was called to head the youth program in the Nottingham Branch. This was completely new to me, and I felt inadeqate, but I knew the Lord had need of me. There were less than 7,000 members in the whole of the British Isles where there are now 40 stakes. We all had to be “anxiously engaged” in the work of saving souls, building the kingdom, and establishing Zion. So it is with all of us. It is futile to fear responsibility when we have been called to serve “by prophecy, and by the laying on of hands by those who are in authority” (A of F 1:5).
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👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Youth
Agency and Accountability
Baptism
Conversion
Missionary Work
Priesthood
Service
“Father, Where Are You?”
Summary: Two small boys vanished while playing near their home by the Manister River. A police dog traced them to a hole in the ice, and divers later recovered their bodies. Overwhelmed with grief, the father rejected the minister’s words and cried out in anger toward God.
“David! Boyd! Come home! It’s time to eat!”
No response. My wife asked me to help her find them.
“David! Boyd! Answer me! Stop teasing! Where are you?”
The anxiety in our voices grew with each unanswered call. David and Boyd, three and four years old, had been playing in the yard at our home on Sixth Avenue next to the Manister River in Manister, Michigan. They had only been out of my sight ten minutes when they disappeared. We searched for an hour with no success. Then we began to panic. We decided we had better telephone the police.
Within 30 minutes a group of policemen, firemen, Boy Scouts, and friends were searching the area. About 4:00 in the afternoon, an officer reported, “Better call the state police and have them bring Saber, the German shepherd.”
Saber arrived, pulling hard on his leash. He bounded up the stairs to the boys’ bedroom and jumped on their beds. The trainer rubbed Saber’s head and nose with the boys’ clothes.
“Off with the leash!” commanded the dog trainer, and the big dog scrambled headlong down the stairs. “Go find them, Saber!” he called, as the dog bounded out the door.
Saber sniffed the house and yard before running across the street to a small wooded area, then made a sharp turn to the south.
“Oh, no! Not the river!” I cried, as I ran after the barking dog. He didn’t stop until he was right on the riverbank where we both identified four little foot prints walking out about 30 meters onto the ice. The silent evidence was there. A big hole was broken in the ice and cold, black, water swirled below it.
Drowned? Dead? My two little innocent boys? These thoughts filled my mind and stopped my speech. I turned away to avoid the awful scene and I ran right into my brother and father. “Oh, how I hate God!” I cried out as I ran from the horrible scene.
How long I ran I don’t know. I do know that when I finally fell down from exhaustion, I had covered a 20-mile distance and was at the home of an old friend who had been kind to me years ago. But I found no comfort there that day.
The next morning I went back to the river. State police skin divers were doing their sad work. Each minute was more painful than the last, as I watched men in wet suits search the cold dark waters.
After three hours of searching, one finally shouted, “Score one!”
Not a little boy, not a child, but a number. Not my own flesh and blood, soft and warm, with a question on his lips, but a hard, stiff little body was lifted into the waiting boat. A frozen statue, with right hand outstretched and fingers clenched. It was David, and his frozen body told the tragedy. Boyd, the more adventuresome of the two, had gone first and broken through the ice. David had followed and tried to reach out to save him. Both went under, and death was quick in the freezing waters.
A few agonizing minutes later came the second call, “Score two!”
Grief overcame me. The days that followed were like a blur. I moved in and out of reality as funeral arrangements were made. I remember little of what was said during the service, except the minister’s parting words, “This is God’s will. We are not to understand.”
I had to understand! These were no words of comfort. A God who would kill innocent children was no friend of mine now or ever, and I told the minister so.
No response. My wife asked me to help her find them.
“David! Boyd! Answer me! Stop teasing! Where are you?”
The anxiety in our voices grew with each unanswered call. David and Boyd, three and four years old, had been playing in the yard at our home on Sixth Avenue next to the Manister River in Manister, Michigan. They had only been out of my sight ten minutes when they disappeared. We searched for an hour with no success. Then we began to panic. We decided we had better telephone the police.
Within 30 minutes a group of policemen, firemen, Boy Scouts, and friends were searching the area. About 4:00 in the afternoon, an officer reported, “Better call the state police and have them bring Saber, the German shepherd.”
Saber arrived, pulling hard on his leash. He bounded up the stairs to the boys’ bedroom and jumped on their beds. The trainer rubbed Saber’s head and nose with the boys’ clothes.
“Off with the leash!” commanded the dog trainer, and the big dog scrambled headlong down the stairs. “Go find them, Saber!” he called, as the dog bounded out the door.
Saber sniffed the house and yard before running across the street to a small wooded area, then made a sharp turn to the south.
“Oh, no! Not the river!” I cried, as I ran after the barking dog. He didn’t stop until he was right on the riverbank where we both identified four little foot prints walking out about 30 meters onto the ice. The silent evidence was there. A big hole was broken in the ice and cold, black, water swirled below it.
Drowned? Dead? My two little innocent boys? These thoughts filled my mind and stopped my speech. I turned away to avoid the awful scene and I ran right into my brother and father. “Oh, how I hate God!” I cried out as I ran from the horrible scene.
How long I ran I don’t know. I do know that when I finally fell down from exhaustion, I had covered a 20-mile distance and was at the home of an old friend who had been kind to me years ago. But I found no comfort there that day.
The next morning I went back to the river. State police skin divers were doing their sad work. Each minute was more painful than the last, as I watched men in wet suits search the cold dark waters.
After three hours of searching, one finally shouted, “Score one!”
Not a little boy, not a child, but a number. Not my own flesh and blood, soft and warm, with a question on his lips, but a hard, stiff little body was lifted into the waiting boat. A frozen statue, with right hand outstretched and fingers clenched. It was David, and his frozen body told the tragedy. Boyd, the more adventuresome of the two, had gone first and broken through the ice. David had followed and tried to reach out to save him. Both went under, and death was quick in the freezing waters.
A few agonizing minutes later came the second call, “Score two!”
Grief overcame me. The days that followed were like a blur. I moved in and out of reality as funeral arrangements were made. I remember little of what was said during the service, except the minister’s parting words, “This is God’s will. We are not to understand.”
I had to understand! These were no words of comfort. A God who would kill innocent children was no friend of mine now or ever, and I told the minister so.
Read more →
👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Friends
👤 Other
Adversity
Children
Death
Doubt
Family
Grief
Parenting
Music Man:An Interview with Mormon Composer Merrell Jenson
Summary: As a young teenager, Merrell’s father sent him into town on errands without strict warnings or limitations. Merrell simply completed the tasks and only later realized he could have misused the freedom. The trust placed in him helped cultivate his reliability.
Another quality my father taught me was that of trustworthiness. When I was just barely a teenager, he would send me into town on errands. He never said, “Now remember, don’t go any further; don’t ruin the truck,” etc. He just said, “Could you get me some silage?” And I went and got the silage. It didn’t even dawn on me until years later that maybe I could have taken a spin up around the foothills or gone on into Salina and had some fun!
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👤 Parents
👤 Youth
👤 Other
Agency and Accountability
Honesty
Parenting
Stewardship
Young Men
Guidance: Ongoing Guidance Is Needed for All
Summary: After Arthur Thorpe Wells was killed in a railway accident, his grieving mother struggled because she did not know how the accident had happened. In a dream or vision, Arthur came to her, described events surrounding his death, later returned to reassure her about his work in the spirit world, and brought comfort to the whole family.
Some of you may have read in the history of the Church the experience that was held by one of the General Authorities named John Wells. He was in the Presiding Bishopric of the Church and lived between 1864 and 1941. His son Arthur was killed suddenly. In the diary of Bishop Wells’s daughter, Clarice Wells Crook, we find this account:
On October 15. 1915, my brother Arthur Thorpe Wells, 20 years old, was working as a conductor on the Emigration Canyon Railway. . . . Arthur was a handsome, intelligent, and happy six-footer. . . . In the course of his duty, he flagged an on-coming train to the siding and signaled his motorman to proceed. No one saw the accident but when Arthur did not signal his return to the train, the motorman stopped the train and they found Arthur lying on the tracks, for the train had run over him.
This incident to the oldest son and brother saddened the family, especially the mother, who could not content herself, not knowing how it happened.
On October 30, fifteen days later, Arthur came to mother in a dream or a vision and explained some of the things that she wanted to know. He said that when his spirit left his body, he went immediately to the Presiding Bishop’s Office to tell father, who was busy talking to a woman and he told his mother who the woman was and what they were talking about. This was confirmed later by his desk calendar. He then went to tell his mother, who was baking pies and singing a certain song. He said that he was unhappy to leave all of his loved ones. He was lonesome and felt a little strange because he was not so well acquainted there. He was told that he would soon find happiness.
Mother was a little concerned because he didn’t look happy and so she was blessed with another visit from Arthur. He told her that now he had been assigned work in the Priesthood Quorum and was very busy working with his grandparents and relatives. He told her not to worry about him anymore, because this was the last time that he would be permitted to come back to see her. This was a great comfort to all the family.
What do we learn from this? Apparently his mother had placed herself in a meditative mood so she could receive the visitation of her son, but apparently his father, who was a General Authority, was so busy in the affairs of the Church he didn’t take time to listen. We have to meditate; we have to take time to listen in order to have the guidance we require from on high.
On October 15. 1915, my brother Arthur Thorpe Wells, 20 years old, was working as a conductor on the Emigration Canyon Railway. . . . Arthur was a handsome, intelligent, and happy six-footer. . . . In the course of his duty, he flagged an on-coming train to the siding and signaled his motorman to proceed. No one saw the accident but when Arthur did not signal his return to the train, the motorman stopped the train and they found Arthur lying on the tracks, for the train had run over him.
This incident to the oldest son and brother saddened the family, especially the mother, who could not content herself, not knowing how it happened.
On October 30, fifteen days later, Arthur came to mother in a dream or a vision and explained some of the things that she wanted to know. He said that when his spirit left his body, he went immediately to the Presiding Bishop’s Office to tell father, who was busy talking to a woman and he told his mother who the woman was and what they were talking about. This was confirmed later by his desk calendar. He then went to tell his mother, who was baking pies and singing a certain song. He said that he was unhappy to leave all of his loved ones. He was lonesome and felt a little strange because he was not so well acquainted there. He was told that he would soon find happiness.
Mother was a little concerned because he didn’t look happy and so she was blessed with another visit from Arthur. He told her that now he had been assigned work in the Priesthood Quorum and was very busy working with his grandparents and relatives. He told her not to worry about him anymore, because this was the last time that he would be permitted to come back to see her. This was a great comfort to all the family.
What do we learn from this? Apparently his mother had placed herself in a meditative mood so she could receive the visitation of her son, but apparently his father, who was a General Authority, was so busy in the affairs of the Church he didn’t take time to listen. We have to meditate; we have to take time to listen in order to have the guidance we require from on high.
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👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Parents
👤 Youth
👤 Children
👤 Other
Thankful for Jesus
Summary: During art time, Brynn's teacher asks the class to draw something they are thankful for. Remembering a home evening lesson that Jesus created the world and all living things, Brynn decides to draw Jesus. When sharing, she tells the class she is thankful for Jesus and feels a warm, grateful feeling.
“Art time!” Miss Shirley said.
Brynn was excited. Art time was her favorite! They drew something new each class. Maybe today they would draw a slimy frog. Or a tall mountain. Or a pretty flower.
Brynn loved to draw!
“Art time will be special today,” Miss Shirley said. “We won’t all draw the same thing. You’ll each get to pick.”
Brynn smiled big. Maybe she could draw lots of different things!
“But there is one rule,” said Miss Shirley. “I want you to draw something you’re thankful for.”
What should I draw? Brynn thought. She reached into her backpack for her crayons. She was thankful for so many things! She was thankful for animals. And Mom and Dad. And the big, blue sky.
Then Brynn remembered something. It was something she learned in home evening last week. Mom said Jesus created the whole world. He made the oceans and mountains and flowers. He even made all the animals!
Then Brynn knew what she was thankful for most of all. She started drawing.
When they were done, everyone shared their drawings. There was an ice-cream cone. A family. A pair of skates.
Then it was Brynn’s turn. She walked to the front. She held her drawing up high.
“I’m thankful for Jesus,” she said.
Brynn had a warm feeling in her heart. It felt good to be thankful.
Brynn was excited. Art time was her favorite! They drew something new each class. Maybe today they would draw a slimy frog. Or a tall mountain. Or a pretty flower.
Brynn loved to draw!
“Art time will be special today,” Miss Shirley said. “We won’t all draw the same thing. You’ll each get to pick.”
Brynn smiled big. Maybe she could draw lots of different things!
“But there is one rule,” said Miss Shirley. “I want you to draw something you’re thankful for.”
What should I draw? Brynn thought. She reached into her backpack for her crayons. She was thankful for so many things! She was thankful for animals. And Mom and Dad. And the big, blue sky.
Then Brynn remembered something. It was something she learned in home evening last week. Mom said Jesus created the whole world. He made the oceans and mountains and flowers. He even made all the animals!
Then Brynn knew what she was thankful for most of all. She started drawing.
When they were done, everyone shared their drawings. There was an ice-cream cone. A family. A pair of skates.
Then it was Brynn’s turn. She walked to the front. She held her drawing up high.
“I’m thankful for Jesus,” she said.
Brynn had a warm feeling in her heart. It felt good to be thankful.
Read more →
👤 Jesus Christ
👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Other
Children
Creation
Family Home Evening
Gratitude
Jesus Christ
Testimony
Prayers and Answers
Summary: During early marriage, with children close in age, the couple divided nighttime responsibilities between “his” and “hers.” They discovered each parent woke only to the child they were assigned to tend and slept through the other’s cries. This taught them that people can train themselves to hear what they intend to hear.
In the early days of our marriage, our children came at close intervals. As parents of little children will know, in those years it is quite a novelty for them to get an uninterrupted night of sleep.
If you have a new baby, and another youngster cutting teeth, or one with a fever, you can be up and down a hundred times a night. (That, of course, is an exaggeration. It’s probably only twenty or thirty times.)
We finally divided our children into “his” and “hers” for night tending. She would get up for the new baby, and I would tend the one cutting teeth.
One day we came to realize that each would hear only the one to which we were assigned, and would sleep very soundly through the cries of the other.
We have commented on this over the years, convinced that you can train yourself to hear what you want to hear, to see and feel what you desire, but it takes some conditioning.
If you have a new baby, and another youngster cutting teeth, or one with a fever, you can be up and down a hundred times a night. (That, of course, is an exaggeration. It’s probably only twenty or thirty times.)
We finally divided our children into “his” and “hers” for night tending. She would get up for the new baby, and I would tend the one cutting teeth.
One day we came to realize that each would hear only the one to which we were assigned, and would sleep very soundly through the cries of the other.
We have commented on this over the years, convinced that you can train yourself to hear what you want to hear, to see and feel what you desire, but it takes some conditioning.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
Children
Family
Marriage
Parenting
“Thou Shalt Not Bear False Witness”
Summary: A Church member bought a motorcycle from a seller who underreported the price on the bill of sale to reduce taxes. Realizing he might be sustaining a lie, the buyer returned to request a correct bill of sale. He learned that tolerating deception makes one an accessory to it.
One member learned how easily an unchallenged lie can snare us in the web of sin even if we believe we have personally kept ourselves at arm’s length from it. He bought a motorcycle from a man who told him, “Pay me [U.S.] $600, but I’m writing out the bill of sale for [U.S.] $400. That way we won’t have to pay as much in taxes.” The buyer fully intended to report the price of the motorcycle honestly; if the seller chose not to do so, the buyer reasoned, he could do nothing about that.
But as he prepared his own tax return, reporting the price of the motorcycle correctly, he realized the problem might not be as simple as he originally had assumed. What if the names of the buyer and seller were somehow linked on tax records? What if he had to back up the information on his tax return with a bill of sale? There was little likelihood of ever being challenged, he reasoned, but that was not the point. He could not live with the idea of sustaining a lie, even though it was not his own.
The buyer of the motorcycle returned to the seller and asked for a legitimate bill of sale. He went away having learned a valuable lesson: if we tolerate lying to any degree, we are accessories to deception.
But as he prepared his own tax return, reporting the price of the motorcycle correctly, he realized the problem might not be as simple as he originally had assumed. What if the names of the buyer and seller were somehow linked on tax records? What if he had to back up the information on his tax return with a bill of sale? There was little likelihood of ever being challenged, he reasoned, but that was not the point. He could not live with the idea of sustaining a lie, even though it was not his own.
The buyer of the motorcycle returned to the seller and asked for a legitimate bill of sale. He went away having learned a valuable lesson: if we tolerate lying to any degree, we are accessories to deception.
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👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
Agency and Accountability
Courage
Honesty
Sin
Truth
January 1993: First Branch in Cameroon
Summary: While studying dental surgery in France, Gervais Gerard Zang sought answers and met Latter-day Saint missionaries, leading to his baptism in 1989 and ordination as an elder. After returning to Cameroon, he became the first branch president when the Bastos Branch was organized in Yaoundé in 1993. Later that year, the Church received legal recognition in Cameroon, and the fledgling branch grew with baptisms and many investigators attending.
While studying dental surgery in Nantes, France, Gervais Gerard Zang began to have many questions about life that his Catholic faith did not answer. He began investigating many churches and, on this journey, he met the Latter-day Saint missionaries. He was baptized on 11 November 1989 and, after a few months, received the Melchizedek Priesthood and was ordained an elder in the Church. After obtaining his diplomas in dental surgery, he returned to Cameroon.
On 10 January 1993 the first branch of the Church in Cameroon was organized. Known as the Bastos Branch, it was established in Yaoundé, Cameroon, with Brother Zang as the branch president.
By September of the same year the Church was granted legal recognition by the president of Cameroon. Before the government granted recognition, about 30 people had been baptized and another 60 investigators were attending Sunday meetings. —Sister Julie Brough, Church History missionary in the Africa Central Area
On 10 January 1993 the first branch of the Church in Cameroon was organized. Known as the Bastos Branch, it was established in Yaoundé, Cameroon, with Brother Zang as the branch president.
By September of the same year the Church was granted legal recognition by the president of Cameroon. Before the government granted recognition, about 30 people had been baptized and another 60 investigators were attending Sunday meetings. —Sister Julie Brough, Church History missionary in the Africa Central Area
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👤 Missionaries
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
Baptism
Conversion
Diversity and Unity in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
Doubt
Education
Missionary Work
Priesthood
Religious Freedom
Covenants and Miracles
Summary: A family from New Caledonia traveled to Utah in December 2023 with 65 family names for temple baptisms. After difficulty scheduling, they secured four baptism sessions in one day. At the Provo Utah Temple, a temple worker enlisted patrons to help, and all 65 ordinances were completed. The family felt the Spirit and the joy of their ancestors.
My family and I saved our money during the COVID-19 pandemic and in December 2023, we were able to travel to Utah to visit our daughter and the many temples available there. After five years of not being able to do work for our ancestors, we had prepared 65 names to take to the temple during our stay.
It was a challenge to line up appointments for all the temple work we had planned for Utah. We were desperate to help our ancestors, and as our return date approached, our incredible adventure began—we secured four baptism sessions in four different temples on the same day.
We entered the baptistry at the Provo Utah Temple early in the morning, and I begged Heavenly Father to provide a miracle for the work we needed to do. I had faith that He would also want to see my ancestors baptized.
The patrons at the baptismal font were moving slower than usual that morning, but I explained our situation to a sister working in the temple, and she invited other willing patrons to help perform the work with us.
It was an incredible and emotional experience to witness all 65 ancestors baptized by proxy, one by one, after the significant effort we had made to find them! We were so grateful for this first miracle. The Spirit was strong, and we could feel the relief, gratitude and happiness from those 65 precious souls.
It was a challenge to line up appointments for all the temple work we had planned for Utah. We were desperate to help our ancestors, and as our return date approached, our incredible adventure began—we secured four baptism sessions in four different temples on the same day.
We entered the baptistry at the Provo Utah Temple early in the morning, and I begged Heavenly Father to provide a miracle for the work we needed to do. I had faith that He would also want to see my ancestors baptized.
The patrons at the baptismal font were moving slower than usual that morning, but I explained our situation to a sister working in the temple, and she invited other willing patrons to help perform the work with us.
It was an incredible and emotional experience to witness all 65 ancestors baptized by proxy, one by one, after the significant effort we had made to find them! We were so grateful for this first miracle. The Spirit was strong, and we could feel the relief, gratitude and happiness from those 65 precious souls.
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👤 Parents
👤 Church Members (General)
Adversity
Baptisms for the Dead
Faith
Family
Family History
Gratitude
Holy Ghost
Miracles
Ordinances
Prayer
Sacrifice
Temples