Gospel Story Finder

Near the turn of the century two missionaries approached a mountain village in one of the Hawaiian Islands. A man standing near his hut saw them coming and said to his children who stood nearby, “Run down the hill and tell those men to go back. We are not interested in what they are preaching.” The children obeyed their father.
The missionaries, however, continued up the hill. Upon reaching the crest, they walked to the father and said, “We do not mean to be rude. But we have traveled many miles to tell you that there is a living prophet on the earth today.”
A look of excitement swept over the man’s face. “What did you say?” he asked.
The missionaries repeated their testimony: “There is a living prophet on the earth today, and we want to share with you his message.”
Turning to his children, the man exclaimed, “Quickly, run and get mother, and call together your brothers and sisters. Tell them that there is a living prophet.” A short time later this family accepted the gospel and was baptized. (Related to Elder Asay by Tom Kaleo of Hawaii, about his own father.)

We challenge parents, home teachers, elders quorum presidents, and bishops that from today you show your concern for these young people. Flood them with affection, letters, tapes, cards, packages, birthday and holiday greetings of all types. Give your Young Adults, teenagers, and others in your ward a stimulating project. Sixteen-year-old Debbie Trujillo wrote a serviceman, “Hi. My name is Debbie Trujillo, and I’ve just been baptized in the Church. I don’t know much about you, but our class is doing this project, and I think it’s neat.” The serviceman said, “I hope my reply can be as sweet and uplifting as her letter.”

Emily poured the last of the lemonade into her cup and went outside. It was a hot day! Emily was glad she had some cold lemonade. Then she saw Grandpa pushing the lawn mower. He looked hot and tired. Emily really wanted the whole cup of lemonade. But she knew Grandpa would be thirsty. Emily went back inside. She got another cup and poured in half of her lemonade. Then she took it outside to Grandpa. He stopped the lawn mower. They drank their lemonade. Grandpa smiled and said, “Thank you for sharing your lemonade!”

As a young married couple, my wife and I were expecting the birth of our first child. I was studying law at the university and working nights in a gasoline station. We had very little money. We had furnished our small basement apartment with some used furniture and many wooden boxes.
As the time of the birth approached, we had assembled everything we would need, except we had no bed for the baby and no money to buy one.
It was our practice at that time to pay our tithing each month on fast Sunday. As that day approached, we discussed the possibility of postponing the paying of our tithing so that we could make an initial payment on a baby bed. In the spirit of the fast, and after praying, we decided to pay the tithing and trust our Heavenly Father.
A few days later, I was walking in the business district of the city and unexpectedly met my former mission president, who asked if I was in school or working at a job. I replied that I was doing both.
Was I married? “Yes!”
Did we have children? “No, but our first child will be born in just a few weeks.”
“Do you have a bed for the baby?” he asked. “No,” I replied reluctantly, startled by the direct question.
“Well,” he said, “I am now in the furniture business, and it would please me to have a baby bed delivered to your apartment as a gift.”
A great feeling of relief, gratitude, and testimony came over me.
The gift filled a temporal need but is still a poignant reminder of the spiritual experience that accompanied it, confirming again that the law of tithing is a commandment with a promise.

Through rigorous effort to look to and for Jesus Christ in my every thought and deed, my eyes were enlightened and my understanding quickened to recognize that Jesus Christ was calling for me to “come unto” Him. From this early season of discipleship in my youth, I can recall an invitation extended to me by the missionaries to join them as they taught the gospel to a group of young girls about my age. One evening, as we were seated in the family home of one of these young women, their tender question of why I believe pricked my heart and allowed me to testify to them with deepened understanding of the Lord’s vision about the spiritual motivations of my discipleship and has refined my testimony going forward.

I had some friends who turned on me between seventh and ninth grade. At first I didn’t realize they were making fun of me, but when I did, I was shocked and couldn’t understand where I’d gone wrong.
I thought that if I did what Christ would do, everything would get better. So I continued being nice, helping my classmates with their homework, and relying on God, trusting that someday I would make a good friend. At first, not much seemed to change. But after I started high school, my classmates were nicer people.
More importantly, during those years when I was looking for friends, I found that my best friend is Jesus Christ. So not only did I make new friends at school, but I also made the best Friend that I could ever have.

Many times Amelia’s adventures were shared with Muriel. One time, when the family was moving and the last load was ready to go, the family cat, Von Sol, had run off, and the family had to leave without it. At the end of the next day, when nothing had been done to find the cat, Amelia and Muriel grabbed a gunnysack, climbed over a fence, went through a back alley, and set off for their former home. It was a long walk, but they made it. There by the door sat Von Sol. When the girls tried to capture him, the cat became frightened and scrambled up a nearby birch tree. The lowest limb was ten feet above the ground. Seeing no other way to get to the cat, and not being one to give up, Amelia shinnied up a porch post to the roof of the house. From there she climbed onto a branch of the tree and up to where Von Sol was crouching. After a long discussion, Amelia coaxed the cat into the gunnysack. It was a very tiring walk home for the girls, especially with the weight of Von Sol in the gunnysack. And worry about their parents’ reaction to their adventure didn’t make the trip any easier. But Amelia was happy to have rescued Von Sol.

One time I went on a first date with a girl in my ward. The next morning we were the only two who showed up for our ward’s temple trip. We offered to help with whatever ordinance needed the most patrons … which turned out to be sealings.
I was so nervous, but to my surprise, doing vicarious sealings with a girl less than 12 hours after our first date wasn’t nearly as awkward as I thought it would be. If anything, that experience gave me more perspective on how important each aspect of temple work is—including sealings (read more in my digital article).

Barbara Matovu from Uganda. Sam Basnet from Nepal. And Elisabeth Olsen from Norway. Three different people, three different countries. Yet Barbara, Sam, and Elisabeth have all gathered in one place, the center for young adults in Oslo, Norway, under one truth: the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.
These three joined the Church in Oslo, receiving the missionary lessons at the center for young adults. Facilities like the one in Oslo are dedicated to providing a place to socialize at activities, learn in institute classes, enjoy computer and Internet access, study for school, and even cook dinner.
Barbara moved from Uganda to Norway in 1998, when she was nine years old. Ten years later, while living in Oslo, two missionaries invited her to learn about the restored gospel, telling her that they could meet in the center for young adults. Barbara was skeptical, at best.
“I thought to myself, ‘Yet another youth center,’” she admits. “I had been to plenty of places like that before, and I honestly never felt comfortable being in any of them.”
But this center proved to be different. “My mind was blown away when I took the first step into the door,” Barbara remembers. “I stood still for a moment, trying to figure out the feeling I had. I felt warmth and love. I felt assured that I was in the right place, with the right people, for the right cause.”
The initiative to build centers for young adults started in 2003. Centers expand the reach of institute by offering more than just religious education classes; young single adults also have opportunities to serve on a center activities council, work with full-time missionaries to help teach and activate their peers, and associate with a senior couple who keep the whole operation running. Local priesthood leadership, under the direction of Area Seventies, determines the creation of centers in their respective areas.
The first 4 centers were in Copenhagen, Denmark, and in Berlin, Hamburg, and Leipzig, Germany. Those initial 4 have since blossomed into 141 in 2011, in locations as diverse as Sweden and Cyprus. Many more are in various stages of development in other parts of the world, including the United States and Africa.
Gerald and Nancy Sorensen served at the center for young adults in Trondheim, Norway. There they met young adults from countries all across the globe, including Afghanistan, China, Ghana, Iran, Iraq, Mozambique, the Netherlands, Nigeria, Russia, Turkey, and Ukraine.
“There were many languages, customs, and educational and religious backgrounds,” observes Brother Sorensen, “but all these young adults had a common bond in wanting to know more about their Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. As we got to know them and their personal dreams and challenges, it was easy to look at each one as a child of God. It was plain to see that God answered their prayers and guided their steps, showing His great love for them.”
President Armand Johansen of the Norway Oslo Mission feels that the young adults are being guided to the center for a purpose, including being trained for responsibilities in the future. “The Church in Norway is going to become more and more diverse,” he says. “The centers help the young adults know how to deal with that, to recognize how important the Church is as the common bonding element of all cultures and people,” says President Johansen. “I see the centers as great unifiers, places where you find a lowering of social barriers and biases.”
Barbara Matovu remembers the first time the missionaries brought her to the center for an activity to meet other young single adults. She thought she knew what to expect.
“Throughout my life I’ve always had a group that I belonged to,” explains Barbara. “And the groups were always stamped with something—you were the sporty group or the international group or some other group. So when people started coming into the center, it was so strange because no one seemed to have the attitude of ‘I’m in the popular group, so I can’t talk to you.’
“At first, I thought, ‘Are they acting? Is this a show?’ But after a while I realized it actually doesn’t matter who we are or where we come from or which language we speak. The love of our Heavenly Father is for everyone. Usually it takes me a bit of time to find my group, but this time I felt like I didn’t need a group. I was just Barbara, and I could be Barbara for everybody.”
Elisabeth Olsen says she feels humbled to see her place in her heavenly family. “When you meet people from a different culture or society, it’s so easy to label them. I’ve learned to open up my eyes more and to see people through the eyes of Christ,” she says. “At the center we all have different cultural backgrounds, but we all have one thing in common: we want to be with Jesus Christ and God again.”
Some might be wary of the idea of unity because they think it must come at the cost of sacrificing individuality. “A lot of people are scared of religion because they think that it makes us all the same, because we live by the same commandments,” explains Elisabeth. “But that’s not how it is at all. God made us all individuals. We may have the same beliefs, but we have different qualities and gifts, and that’s what makes us individuals. God wants us all to be different because we all have different missions.”
Sam Basnet has also fielded concerns from friends who believe religious rules are restrictive. “One friend told me, ‘If you go to church, you have to follow the rules of others,’” he reports. But Sam follows the standards of the Church because he has prayerfully sought personal revelation to confirm his actions.
And it’s by individually speaking to His children that God is unifying them, explains Sam. “God says that all nations and all tongues will worship Him” (see Mosiah 27:31), he says. “By meeting different people, I learn to appreciate different cultures. But experiencing such diversity also makes me feel that, yes, God has a great plan to unite us in peace.”
As much as these young adults appreciate the power of gathering to a center for young adults, these future leaders of the Church understand that it’s just the beginning. As Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, one of the most important gathering places is the temple.1
Sam has prepared to enter the house of the Lord by surrounding himself with good friends at the center. “By getting to know people from so many different places, it has helped me to feel positive about the world,” he says. “I want to be a good example for my friends, and this has made me more fit for God and more fit to enter His temple.”
One month after her baptism, Barbara first started thinking about attending the temple while she was at a family home evening lesson at the center. After the lesson, she started asking questions.
“Having friends who understood what the temple meant for them helped me understand what the temple might mean for me. As they explained to me about the temple, I felt the Holy Spirit,” Barbara recalls. “I realized that all the places I’d been thinking about getting married—a nice church or the beach—couldn’t even be compared to the temple. From that moment the temple was no longer just a building. It was something I wanted to look forward to and a place to one day enter with my future husband.”
Elisabeth has also included the temple as one of her most important goals. “Whenever I get to travel to a temple, I just smile like I won a million dollars,” she says. “I know that God wants everyone to go there and receive all the blessings and gifts He has in store for us. Going to the temple and being temple worthy are true success. I can enter the temple and be the closest to God—the closest to home—as I can get on this earth.”
The celestial kingdom is, of course, the ultimate gathering place, one where Barbara doesn’t want any empty seats. “Christ says that it is only through Him that we can come to Heavenly Father, but He also says that one of the biggest things we can do in life is to serve one another [see John 21:15–17]. And serving one another is helping somebody come home to Heavenly Father, because you don’t want to go alone.”

Early in my Church service, Elder Harold B. Lee taught this lesson when he came to organize a new stake in the district where we were living. Elder Lee asked me, as a newly sustained bishop, if I would join him at a press conference. There, an intense young reporter challenged Elder Lee. He said to him, “You call yourself a prophet. When was the last time you had revelation, and what was it about?” Elder Lee paused, looked directly at him, and responded in a sweet way, “It was yesterday afternoon about three o’clock. We were praying about who should be called as the president of the new stake, and it was made known to us who that individual should be.” The reporter’s heart changed. I will never forget the Spirit that came into that room as Elder Lee bore his powerful witness of revelation that can be received by those faithfully seeking to do the Lord’s will.

The author being baptized by Thomas Salisbury in Sông Bé Lake, Vietnam.
Photograph courtesy of the author
I enlisted in the United States Army for a three-year term and arrived in South Vietnam on my 20th birthday. After eight months, I was assigned to a unit northwest of Saigon. While there, I quickly observed that one of my tentmates, Thomas Salisbury, was different from everyone else.
The difference was so striking that I eventually asked him, “Tom, why are you so different from everyone else?”
“Because I’m a Latter-day Saint,” he replied.
“What is a Latter-day Saint?” I asked.
He arranged for me to meet with him and Harold Lewis, a returned missionary who was serving as an assistant to the unit chaplain. During our first meeting in a tent that served as a small chapel, I agreed that if I really believed what they were telling me, I would be baptized. I also received a copy of the Book of Mormon, which I kept in the lower pocket of my cargo pants and read whenever I had downtime.
Several discussions followed, and I found that each lesson answered questions I had had in my search for truth. But when Tom and Harold asked me if I wanted to be baptized, I said no. I didn’t know how I could keep all the commandments they had taught me.
After attending a district conference in Saigon, I went to Australia for a week of rest and relaxation. While there, I started to realize how important the teachings of the gospel had become to me. Upon my return to Vietnam, I immediately announced to Tom that I wished to be baptized.
Soon after, Tom baptized me in Sông Bé Lake, Harold confirmed me a member of the Church, and Timothy Hill, our Church group leader, ordained me a deacon.
When I returned home to the United States six weeks later, I introduced the gospel to my girlfriend, who became my wife. She also embraced the gospel’s hopeful message.
I will be forever grateful that Tom asked me if I wanted to know more. His example and invitation answered my longing to find the truth and enjoy the blessings of the gospel.

My father grew up in the small town of Monticello, Utah. When he was seven, one of his daily chores was to bring the family’s cows in from their pasture. His prized possession was his pocketknife, which he always kept with him. One day as he was riding his horse to fetch the cows, he reached into his pocket for his knife. To his dismay he realized he had lost it somewhere along the trail. He was heartbroken, but he believed what he had been taught by his father and mother: God hears and answers prayers.
He stopped his horse and slid off its bare back to the ground. There he knelt and asked Heavenly Father to help him find his pocketknife. He climbed back on his horse, turned around, and rode back down the trail. After some distance his horse stopped. Dad climbed off the horse and put his hand into the deep dust on the trail. There, buried in the dust, he found his prized pocketknife. He knew that the Lord had heard and answered his prayer.
Because he had learned to listen to and act upon the whisperings of the Spirit, my father was blessed to see the hand of the Lord on many occasions throughout his life. He witnessed many miracles. Yet when he gathered his family to teach us the gospel, he often spoke of his experience on the dusty trail in Monticello when the Lord heard and answered the prayer of a “freckle-faced seven-year-old boy.”
In his later years he told us that he had learned something else from this childhood experience. With a twinkle in his eye, he said, “I learned that God can speak to horses!”
My father’s experience as a young boy left a lasting impression on him because it was the beginning of his personal spiritual education. This was when he learned for himself that God hears prayers. This was when he began, as the Prophet Joseph Smith termed it, to learn the Spirit of God.1

Will Strickland flipped switches, turned dials, and moved levers on the lighted control panel; the metal robot sitting at the far end of the living room stood up and walked ponderously toward him. Will’s fingers moved rapidly among the controls as he piloted the robot in a slow circle about the room.
At last!
He finally had the robot perfected to the point where it could walk more than six steps without falling on its chrome steel skull. …

The Utah Valley Ranger soccer team is succeeding at something that’s difficult to do in the sports world. The Rangers are a top team, but they don’t play on Sundays. The team is made up of 17 deacons, only two of whom are from the same ward. The players train hard and arrange friendly games with out-of-state teams. Last year, the Rangers were Utah’s state champions. The boys travel for their games sometimes, but they set a goal to keep the Sabbath holy and be in church on Sundays.

When I was around 10 years old, my mum was serving as a youth teacher in Oakland California Stake’s Oakland 8th Ward. One weekday evening, we were at our chapel for ward activities. Our Primary activity finished early, so I hung out in the recreation hall with my cousins and friends while I waited for mum, who was helping to run youth night.
We played tag and hide-and-seek, but there were so many of us kids, the hall was crowded. Some of the older kids wanted to go play outside because there was a lot more space out there, and also because outside was darker than in the hall (it was after 7:00 pm by now).
I wasn’t so sure about following them. I asked if we could keep playing inside, but my friends just said, “[We’ll] be fine outside. There’s a lot of us. It’s going to be okay.” Still, I didn’t want to get in trouble, so I decided to ask my mum for permission to play outside.
“No,” was mum’s reply. Even though I was uncomfortable about following my friends, I was still disappointed not to be allowed outside. We’d been having so much fun together. “Why can’t I go?” I asked. Mum’s only reasoning was that she didn’t want me playing in the dark where she couldn’t see me.
When I reluctantly told my friends to go ahead without me, it felt right. It was like the Spirit was confirming my mum’s warning, but that moment was immediately followed by one of weakness. It was hard watching my friends file out the hall door without me, so I jumped to my feet and ran with them, determined to disobey my mum.
Just as I reached the outside door of the chapel, I felt as if a hand was holding me back. I stopped and turned around, but no one was there to have held my hand. Stunned, I let the rest of my friends leave the chapel without me, and then I went back and sat by myself outside the classroom my mum was in.
In the 10 or 15 minutes that I waited for youth night to wrap up, I reviewed in my mind what had just happened. I was still upset that I wasn’t outside playing with my friends, but I kept thinking about the uneasy feeling I’d had since it was first suggested we leave the chapel, about my mom’s instruction for me to stay inside, and, of course, about the hand that held me back.
I remembered the brief sense of peace I’d felt when I first decided to obey my mum, and I realized that as I waited for her, I could feel the Spirit again, letting me know that I’d—again—made the right choice.
To this day, I have no idea why it was so important for me to stay in the chapel that night, and it doesn’t matter. I am just grateful for the Holy Spirit who guides and comforts us, even when we don’t understand, and I’m grateful that through my obedience, the Spirit allowed us to have a nice drive home after ward activities, without a lecture from my mum.

Sister Asay recalled another incident when she poured out her heart to her Father in Heaven: “Carlos has always made me feel that I’m the greatest person in the world, and I just never want to let him down, or do anything that will slow his progress.” She told of the time she had the responsibility of handling their very meager finances. “We had our money budgeted in little envelopes,” she explained. At that time her young student-husband was teaching school and also going to night school. As he left for school one morning with full confidence in his sweetheart and wife, he said, “I’ll need the tuition money ready so I can register after school tonight.” Colleen had this horrible feeling come over her. She realized that through some misplanning, perhaps paying a bill before it was due or something like that, there was no money for the tuition.
“He trusted me. I just couldn’t let him down. He needed the money then so he could continue his schooling, and there was no money and no way of getting it unless it was to just drop out of the sky.” With a desperate feeling, and yet with the unwavering faith she had developed over the years, she talked to her Father in Heaven: “There is no money. What am I going to do? Carlos thinks there is, and he is coming home, and I just can’t disappoint him.” Sister Asay hesitated a minute, then leaned forward and reverently bore testimony: “That was one of the greatest spiritual experiences I’ve had,” she said, “and I’ve had a number of them.
“You know, when I got up from my knees, I looked out of the window. I saw the postman coming down the walk. The thought came to me immediately, ‘There will be some money in the mail.’ I confidently walked to the mailbox and—nothing. I could hardly believe it. My heart sank. There was no money. Disappointed and heartsick, I turned to go back in the door, full of concern, thinking of Carlos’s education and our future. At that moment the postman came back around the corner of the house. ‘Here is a letter,’ he said. ‘It was in the bottom of the bag and I didn’t notice it.’” She quickly opened the letter to discover a seminary check—two payments in advance—for the exact amount of the tuition. “I just started to cry,” she said. “The Lord did hear my prayers. I said to the children, ‘Look, here is some money from the Lord.’” Those dear little children sensed their mother’s excitement and ran all the way up and down the block, where there were nonmembers, and publicly announced to all their friends, “The Lord has sent us some money.”
“That’s how instantly I’ve had prayers answered,” Sister Asay explained. “Sometimes answers don’t come that quickly, but sometimes they do!”

Deborah hadn’t meant to listen to her friends’ conversation, but when she heard her name mentioned, she couldn’t resist listening.
“Did you know that Deborah’s mother is having another baby?” Cassie remarked.
“How many children does that make for them?” Tiffany asked.
“Five. Or six. Something like that.” Cassie laughed. “I don’t know how Deborah stands it. I can’t stand one little brother, and she has three—or four. Plus a baby sister!”
Deborah wanted to tell the girls that she loved all three of her brothers and her little sister. She wanted to tell them that her family was none of their business. But her throat was so tight from being upset that she could barely swallow back her tears, much less speak.
After school, instead of waiting to walk with her friends, she hurried home by herself. She found her mother in the living room, rocking two-year-old Samantha.
Deborah smiled at the sight. Samantha was snuggled against her mother, thumb in her mouth.
“Let me take her.” Deborah lifted her little sister and carried her to the crib. After kissing Samantha’s cheek, Deborah laid her down.
Mom began picking up the toys that littered the living room floor.
Deborah took over the task. “You shouldn’t be doing that. Didn’t the doctor say you’re supposed to take it easy?”
Her mother gave her a grateful smile. “Thanks, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
The words wrapped Deborah’s heart in a cocoon of warmth.
“Why are you and Dad having another baby?” she asked hesitantly as she put the toys into a basket.
Her mom sat down and placed a hand on her rounded stomach. “There’s a life growing here. A special spirit that Heavenly Father has chosen to send to our family. It’s a wonderful feeling. And a sacred one.” She looked at her daughter curiously. “I thought that you were excited that we were having another baby—aren’t you?”
“I am.” Deborah had looked forward to having another baby in the family since the moment her parents had announced the news.
“But?” her mom prompted.
Deborah thought about making something up, but she could never fool her mother. “Some girls at school were saying that our family has too many children already.” She swallowed hard. “They said that the world has too many people, that you shouldn’t be having any more children.”
A shadow crossed her mom’s face. Deborah sat beside her and leaned against her mother’s arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
“I’m just sorry that you had to hear that. Many people don’t understand the blessing it is to bring another spirit child of Heavenly Father into our home.” Her mother settled back in the sofa. “When we were married, your dad and I didn’t wait to start our family, like many couples do. When you were born, he was still in college, studying to be a teacher. People told us then that we should wait to have children.”
“Wait for what?” Deborah asked.
“Until your dad was out of school and had a good job. Or until we had a house and money in the bank. People have a lot of reasons for waiting to have children.
“President Ezra Taft Benson was the prophet then. He counseled families to not wait to have children, so we didn’t.” Her mother squeezed Deborah’s hand. “You were our first. And you were very, very precious to us. It didn’t matter that we didn’t have a lot of money or that we had to make do with what we had. You were more than worth it, and you still are. So are your brothers and your sister and whoever is coming this time. Your dad and I love each of you with all our hearts.”
“I’m glad you listened to the prophet.”
“So am I, sweetheart.”
The following day, Deborah found Cassie and Tiffany and other friends in the cafeteria. She took a deep breath. “I heard you talking yesterday, and I know that you think our family is too big. The truth is, we’re not big enough. There’s another spirit in heaven waiting to come to earth, to be part of our family.”
The girls looked embarrassed. “Do you really like having so many brothers and sisters?” Tiffany asked at last.
“Sometimes they can be a pain,” Deborah said honestly. “But I love all of them. And I wouldn’t trade any of them for a new pair of jeans or anything else.”
Cassie slid over to make room for Deborah. “Sit down and have lunch with us. Maybe you can teach me how you put up with little brothers.”
Deborah grinned. “First, you have to know how to make truck noises.”

Tim jogged up the sidewalk after school. He saw Mom sitting on the porch steps holding a camera. “What’s the camera for?” he asked.
Mom patted the step beside her. “I’d like to take your picture, but I need to talk with you about something first. Sit down for a second, please.”
Tim plopped his backpack on the porch and sat down. He got a funny feeling all of a sudden. Was something wrong?
“I got a call this afternoon,” Mom explained. “Your friend Shem is in the hospital.”
Tim took a quick breath. “What happened?” he asked. “Is Shem OK?”
Mom slipped an arm around Tim. “No, he’s not. He had to have an operation.”
“But Mom,” Tim protested, “Shem was here just two days ago. He was fine!”
“I know, honey,” Mom said. “But sometimes something goes wrong inside the body very suddenly. An important blood vessel in Shem’s brain stopped working. Doctors aren’t sure if he’ll be able to see or recognize anybody once he wakes up from the operation.”
Tim couldn’t think of anything to say. His eyes stung with tears, and his throat hurt. He hugged Mom and thought about Shem. They had so much fun last summer playing knights and dragons in Shem’s backyard. He was scared for his friend.
“Why do you want to take a picture of me?” he finally asked.
Mom smiled. “The doctors think it might help Shem if some of his favorite things are nearby when he wakes up. You can’t be in Shem’s hospital room, but we can send a picture. Would you like to do that?”
“Yes!” Tim jumped up. Anything to help Shem. Mom stepped back and took the photograph.
Tim folded his arms and thought. “Can we do anything else to help?”
“You can pray for him.”
Tim felt relieved. Of course! Prayer was the perfect idea. “I’ll go do that right now,” he said, running inside.
The next morning Mom offered Tim some eggs and cereal for breakfast. Everything looked so tasty, but Tim shook his head. “I don’t want any, thanks.”
“What’s wrong? Do you have a stomach ache?”
“No,” Tim answered. “I just think maybe I should fast today. For Shem.”
“Oh,” Mom said. She knelt down beside Tim. “I think that would be a very good idea,” she said quietly.
When Tim got to school, he gave his teacher a note Mom had written, explaining that he wouldn’t be eating lunch. Miss Thompson looked closely at him after she read the note. “Shem must be a very special friend,” she said. Tim nodded.
All day at school, whenever Tim’s stomach rumbled, he said a silent prayer that Heavenly Father would bless Shem. It wasn’t easy, but he felt good inside doing this for his friend. On Sunday he learned that other Primary kids had fasted and prayed for Shem too.
Several days later Tim walked in the house just as Mom was hanging up the phone.
“Great news!” Mom said. “Shem opened his eyes today. And the first thing he said was, ‘Where am I, and why is there a picture of Tim?’”
“He saw my picture?” Tim asked, excited. Shem could still see!
“Yes, he did, and he knew it was you,” Mom said. “That means his brain still works the way it should. The doctors are calling it a miracle.”
Tim let out a whoop of excitement. He leaped up and started running down the hall toward his bedroom.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Mom asked.
Tim paused for only a moment. “I’ve got to thank Heavenly Father!”

At a critical moment in the battle of Waterloo, when everything depended on the steadiness of the soldiery, an anxious courier dashed into the presence of the Duke of Wellington, announcing that unless the troops were immediately relieved or withdrawn, they must yield before the impending assault of the French army. The Duke replied, “Stand firm!”
“But we shall perish!” remonstrated the officer.
“Stand firm!” again was the answer of the ironhearted Duke.
“You’ll find us there!” rejoined the courier, as he galloped away.
And, of course, the British were victorious that day as a result of such loyalty and determination (see Walter Baxendale, ed., Dictionary of Anecdote, Incident, Illustrative Fact, New York: Thomas Whittaker, 1889, p. 225).

Permit me to share an experience which I believe illustrates further this edifying process.
A few years ago, some missionaries referred me to a lovely couple to whom they had been teaching the gospel. These people had been taught a number of lessons and had attended church on several occasions. But they were having some difficulty in recognizing a developing testimony.
After some silent praying, I was impressed to ask the husband, “Was prayer an important part of your life before you met the missionaries?”
“No,” he replied. “Until recently I seldom prayed.”
I then inquired, “Do you pray now?”
“Oh yes,” he said. “We pray all the time. We bless the food before each meal; we have family prayers; and I pray frequently about my work.”
I commended him for cultivating this habit and invited him to read with me this scripture: “For if ye would hearken unto the Spirit which teacheth a man to pray ye would know that ye must pray; for the evil spirit teacheth not a man to pray.” (2 Ne. 32:8.)
My friend quickly admitted that he had been listening to the right spirit.
I then asked the investigator about his knowledge of Christ’s teachings, and without hesitation he explained that before his contact with the missionaries his knowledge was very limited. He seemed eager, however, to let me know that the missionaries had taught him some significant things, including the plan of salvation. Once more, I invited him to read with me: “Now, we will compare the word unto a seed. … If ye give place, that a seed may be planted in your heart, behold, if it be a true seed, or a good seed, if ye do not cast it out by your unbelief, that ye will resist the Spirit of the Lord, behold, it will begin to swell within your breasts; and when you feel these swelling motions, ye will begin to say within yourselves—It must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it beginneth to enlarge my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding.” (Alma 32:28.)
It required little persuasion for my friend to acknowledge that the word was true and good, and that he had felt the Spirit of the Lord.
The third question I directed to his wife. It was: “What kind of companion and father was your husband prior to meeting the missionaries?”
Somewhat reluctantly she answered, “He could have been better—he had a tendency to take me for granted and to neglect the children.”
I expressed thanks for her honest answer and suggested that we read together the following: “But he that believeth these things which I have spoken, him will I visit with the manifestations of my Spirit. … For because of my Spirit he shall know that these things are true; for it persuadeth men to do good.” (Ether 4:11.)
She, too, was willing to testify that a new spirit had entered their home and that this same spirit had changed her husband’s life.
Finally, I spoke again to the man and asked about his faith in Christ. He confessed that before his meetings with the missionaries, his faith had wavered and that he had entertained serious doubts concerning the Savior. He pointed out that recently his faith had been strengthened because of the teachings and testimonies of the missionaries. I then requested that we read: “For behold, the Spirit of Christ is given to every man, that he may know good from evil; wherefore, I show unto you the way to judge; for everything which inviteth to do good, and to persuade to believe in Christ, is sent forth by the power and gift of Christ; wherefore ye may know with a perfect knowledge it is of God.” (Moro. 7:16.)
Our discussion concluded with an open acknowledgment by my investigator friends that a new and precious spirit had entered their lives. The influence of prayer, the expanded knowledge, the tendency toward goodness, and the rediscovered faith had given them a new perspective and a new purpose for living.
And, as the teacher in this case, I also benefited from the experience. My heart burned within me as I realized that the Spirit had assisted me in recalling relevant scriptures and had prompted me in determining what to say.