Gospel Story Finder

The steps Jack and Kit Regas outlined for putting on a winning roadshow in “It’s Showtime ’76” in the October New Era were right on. I know because our youth put on a winning roadshow last April following those same steps. However, there is one glaring omission—shadow leadership! For our winning roadshow, a 16-year-old Mia Maid wrote the script and dictated original music and words to a musician. A 17-year-old Laurel choreographed all the numbers. These girls then directed 48 young people (half of them boys) to the most rewarding and exciting experience of their lives.
Marilyn OlsenYoung Women president, Farmington Seventh Ward Farmington, Utah

I also understand Joseph Smith’s wanting to be alone as he prayed. On another occasion a few years later, I was in a similar situation, this time with a young man I didn’t know. I was nervous about praying in front of him, so I waited for him to go to bed so I could kneel and pray without him watching me.
But he wouldn’t go to bed, so I finally knelt and prayed and got into my sleeping bag. When he got into bed a few minutes later, he said, “Lynn, do you always pray like that?”
“Yes, I try to. If I ever hurry and get into bed forgetting to pray, I get out of bed and kneel and pray.”
He said, “I should do that.”

While on business in Rochester, New York, USA, I decided to make the short drive to Church history sites in Palmyra, about 25 miles (40 km) away. I especially wanted to see the Sacred Grove.
At the time, I struggled with frustrations at both work and home, and I longed for a sacred experience of my own that would confirm to me in some majestic way that Heavenly Father was mindful of me.
This was years before the Hill Cumorah Visitors’ Center and the Palmyra New York Temple were built. I parked near the Smith family home, got out of the car, and followed the signs to the Sacred Grove. With a prayer in my heart, I walked along the path through the trees. I pondered as I walked, and I even knelt to pray. I felt calm, but I saw no pillar of light and felt no overwhelming emotion. My worries and concerns still weighed on my mind.
Somewhat disappointed, I made my way to the reconstructed log home where the Smith family had lived. I imagined them working, reading scriptures, and praying there. I visited the upstairs room and the kitchen, with its brick fireplace, wooden table and chairs, plank floors, and simple furnishings. I was struck by the thought that it was in a home like this that a 14-year-old boy lived when, full of questions, he determined to go and ask of God.
As I stood in the doorway, ready to leave, I looked toward the Sacred Grove. I knew that Joseph Smith had gone into the nearby woods, prayed, and saw God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. Suddenly, compassion for Joseph washed over me. It was as if I was feeling what Joseph had felt before he prayed. I lacked wisdom, but I knew that I could ask of God and receive answers (see James 1:4–5). I remembered how I had prayed with faith as a teenager and felt peace and reassurance. I felt that same hope and love fill my heart. It was as if I was 14 again.
I bowed my head and offered a silent prayer of gratitude. I had received my answer. Heavenly Father was aware of me. And if I continued to trust Him, He would continue to respond.

Mason liked pretending to be a detective. With his notebook and pencil, he wrote down fascinating facts. He inspected interesting evidence with his magnifying glass. The flashlight tucked in his belt lit up dark places, revealing hidden clues. The only thing he needed for his detective kit was a mirror for peeking around corners and peering into tiny cracks.
“Mom, do you have a mirror I can use for my detective kit?” he asked.
“Yes, I have a small one you can borrow,” Mom said. “Please be careful with it.”
“I will,” Mason promised.
The mirror fit perfectly into his pocket. With his kit complete, Mason was ready to play detective. But when he bent down to get a closer look at a possible clue, the mirror slipped out of his pocket. Mason heard a crunch when he knelt on the floor.
“Oh no!” he groaned when he saw Mom’s broken mirror on the floor. Mason felt awful. It was an accident, but he had promised to be careful. Mason wasn’t sure he was brave enough to tell Mom he broke her mirror.
Mason had been taught in family home evening and Primary that he should always tell the truth. But right now that did not seem easy. He didn’t feel like playing anymore. He worried about what to do. Finally, he slipped the broken mirror back into Mom’s drawer.
At dinner, Mason didn’t feel like eating. When he went to bed, he was still worried about the mirror.
The next morning, Mom called to Mason. “What happened to the mirror?” she asked, holding the pieces in her hand.
“I don’t know,” Mason said. “I put it back when I was finished playing.”
As soon as he said it, Mason felt awful. All afternoon he felt worse and worse. Telling the lie felt even worse than keeping the secret. Mason decided there was only one way he could feel better. Mason went to find Mom.
“I know what happened!” he blurted out.
“I knew you could solve the mystery of the broken mirror,” Mom said.
“It’s not a mystery,” Mason said. “I broke it. It fell out of my pocket when I was looking at clues. I’m sorry.”
“I’m glad you told me,” Mom said. “I think you know it is always best to tell the truth.”
Mason nodded yes. He was starting to feel better. It didn’t take a detective to figure out that telling the truth was always the right thing to do.

Andy straightened his neckerchief and grabbed his Webelos manual.
“Hurry, Andy! You’re going to be late,” his mother called from downstairs. He rushed down and out the front door.
“Bye, Mom!” he yelled as he hopped on his bike. In his last ward, his mom had driven him to the church every week for Scouts. It seemed so cool that now he could ride his bike just around the block to Sister Snow’s house for den meeting.
Sister Snow’s son, B.J., answered the door. Andy liked B.J., but B.J. always seemed to be looking over Andy’s shoulder, like he was hoping someone else would show up. B.J. led Andy to the family room where David, Tanner, Bryce, and Jemison were busy painting a poster. David looked up and smiled when Andy said hi.
All during the meeting Andy tried to be friendly to everyone, but especially to B.J. He wanted to have some friends in his new ward before school started. It would be easier to go to a new school if he already had friends.
When den meeting was over, Sister Snow said that the boys could stay and play together a little longer if they wanted to.
“Great!” B.J. said. “Let’s play a video game. You have to see this new one I got.”
Andy looked to see what game B.J. was putting on. With a sinking feeling, he realized it was not one his parents would let him play.
“What’s wrong?” David asked. All the boys turned to look at Andy.
“I was just wondering what other games you have,” Andy said to B.J.
“Why? Don’t you like this one?”
“It’s just—it’s just that …” Andy stammered, trying to make his voice work. “It’s just that my parents won’t let me play that game.”
B.J. laughed. “Oh. Well, that’s OK. We won’t tell them.”
Andy felt the other boys watching him. He said in a small voice, “I think maybe I’ll go home.”
Nobody said anything for a second. Then David said, “Hey, guys, let’s pick another game.”
“You could always stay and just watch, you know,” B.J. said.
Watching wasn’t the same as playing, was it? But, no, that didn’t feel right to Andy either. He felt all tight inside and wanted to cry. “No, I think I’d better not.”
“Better not what?” Sister Snow asked as she passed through the room. “What’s wrong, Andy?”
“Andy thinks his parents won’t let him play this game,” B.J. said.
“Wow, Andy. That’s really responsible of you to obey your parents even when they aren’t around.” Sister Snow smiled. Then she left. Andy had hoped she would make B.J. change the game. Now what would he do?
Finally B.J. said, “All right. Let’s just pick another one.” He put in a different game. Even though Andy was allowed to play it, he still felt lonely.
When he got home, Andy ran straight to his room. A few minutes later his father knocked on the door. “Andy? Can I come in?”
Andy rolled over and looked at the wall. “I guess,” he answered softly.
Andy’s dad came in and sat on the edge of the bed. “Sister Snow called,” he said. “She told me you followed our family rules and didn’t play the game the other boys chose.”
Andy shrugged. Then he looked up into his father’s face. He was smiling. “Andy, I am so proud of you.”
Hearing the love in his father’s voice made tears come into Andy’s eyes. “I thought about calling you or Mom. I thought maybe if I asked on the phone, you might let me play it.”
“So why didn’t you call us?”
“Because I knew what you would say. Then the other boys said I should just play it, because you would never know.”
“But you didn’t do that,” Dad said.
“No, but I almost did. The game looked really cool, and I felt like a baby not playing it. I can’t wait until I’m a teenager and can play those games.”
“Wait a minute,” Dad said. “Are you sure you’ll be playing them when you are a teenager?”
“But the rating was—”
“I know. But some things are still not good for us even when we are older. Your mother and I are both old enough to see any kind of movie, but we don’t because the Holy Ghost has told us that some movies aren’t good for us. We have rules for you now, but as you get older you’ll have to make rules for yourself—rules that will help you keep the Holy Ghost with you.”
“But it’s so hard to be left out,” Andy said.
“Let me tell you something that has helped me,” Dad said. “I have a best friend who helps me choose the right: Mom. We can always do good things together. Do you have any friends who might feel the same as you about video games?”
Andy thought about that. “Well, I think David might have been glad when they switched to another game.”
“It sounds like David is the kind of boy you might want to spend some more time with.”
“Yeah, maybe so. Dad, can I invite David over tomorrow?”
“OK,” Dad said. “I love you, buddy.” Dad rubbed Andy’s hair and left the room.
Andy sat on his bed for a few more minutes and thought about David. It would be nice to have a friend who didn’t want Andy to do what felt wrong.
Andy looked at the bare walls around his room and the moving boxes on the floor. He would call David right now. David was probably the right person to help Andy hang his posters up tomorrow.

After a lot of effort and a lot of reading the scriptures, praying, and choosing the right, we wanted to get sealed as an eternal family. We talked to our bishop, and even though it took some time, the day finally arrived. We were so excited to go inside the temple.
I got to do baptisms while I waited for my parents to complete the temple work for themselves. I felt like I was getting baptized again. I was really happy I could help people beyond the veil. Now my family and I go to the temple every week. I regularly do baptisms because I love helping there. I am so glad I got to be sealed in the temple to my parents for eternity and have the opportunity to live forever with them.

Shortly before my marriage, I was talking to my father-in-law to be. He asked me about how I developed my testimony of the gospel. I related to him the story about the article “Tell Him,” and he said, “Do you know what, James? I think my cousin wrote that article.”
It turns out that his cousin, Ken Barker, was the author. Wow! This is one of the most amazing things that has ever happened in my life. This whole experience has shown me how much Heavenly Father is watching over me and all of his children. I also developed a deeper understanding of what the Lord meant when he said, “And out of small things proceedeth that which is great” (D&C 64:33).

Receiving my mission call to the Philippines Cebu Mission was a momentous occasion in my life. I had been preparing for quite some time, and I was ready to serve. Entering the missionary training center was a great experience. It struck me that the first thing that they do there is give you a name tag. But this is no ordinary name tag—it has two names. One is the missionary’s name and the other is the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Putting on that name tag was the start of a new understanding for me of what it really meant to be a representative of Jesus Christ.

What do rabbits, postage stamps, and children’s music have in common? They are some of the things that have helped nine-year-old David Whitworth to save for his mission.
For nearly two years David raised Harry, then Jule, two Angora rabbits. Angoras need their loose fur plucked frequently, and David plucked the soft, fine fur and sent it to his grandmother in New Mexico. She paid David for the fur, which she combined with wool on her spinning wheel to make soft yarn for knitting.
He saved most of his rabbit money in a special missionary bank that his Uncle Tim made for him one Christmas. The bank looks like a brown leather book, and it sits on the bookshelf; but it is really made of wood and is hollow.
Although Harry and Jule died recently, David plans to get more Angora rabbits as soon as possible. Meanwhile, the savings in his missionary bank grows. Before the family’s recent move from California to Kentucky, his older sisters, Erin (16), Shaunda (14), and Katie (12), paid him for helping them deliver newspapers on their five routes. Now he gets paid for helping his parents in two small businesses that they run from their home. He helps his dad put postage stamps in vending machines, and he helps his mom with office work, booths, and workshops in her business of selling children’s music.
Besides saving money, David prepares in other ways for his future mission. He is learning to be responsible and dependable. He can cook a whole meal when asked, is learning to sew, and takes his turn at washing dishes and other household chores. He can even change the diapers on his two-year-old sister, Maryvonne!
Missionaries do not sleep in late, and David has learned to get up early: On school days, the family is usually awake by 6:00 A.M. so that everyone can eat, dress, have prayers, and read the scriptures before the bus comes at 7:15. During the summer, they get up at 6:00 A.M. to help in the family’s large garden for an hour before Dad leaves to work in nearby Lexington.
David is also following the prophet’s counsel to learn a second language. In California, David was in a bilingual classroom. At his Kentucky school, his mother teaches Spanish twice a week to David’s class and to the classes his brothers, Josiah (5), and Jonathan (7), are in.
David works hard in school. He is a member of his school’s Academic Team, which competes with teams from other schools to give the fastest correct answers to questions on many subjects. And for a special school project, he recently typed and illustrated a science fiction book that he wrote called “Survival in Z-P.”
David also has plenty of time for just having fun. He likes quiet activities like reading, drawing, and chess. And he enjoys basketball, baseball, tennis, swimming, Cub Scouts, and exploring the small woods around a clubhouse built in the hollow behind the family home.
If you ask David what he wants to be when he grows up, he’s likely to answer, “A missionary, a dad, an artist, a baseball player, and a cartoonist—maybe.”

In the performance of home teaching the teacher has a special opportunity to bless the lives of others and lead them to eternal life. An acquaintance of mine told me of an experience that will help to illustrate this point. “Recently,” he said, “a man and his teacher-age son were assigned to our family as home teachers. We knew of the father’s dedication to the gospel but did not know what to expect from his son, although the young man’s appearance and conduct seemed to reflect the same dedication. During their first visit with us, I kept my eye on this young man. Though reasonably quiet, everything that he did or said brought dignity to the priesthood he bore. Soon they learned that our young son had passed away a year ago and that we were expecting another child. From that moment on they were a special part of our lives as they prayed for and encouraged us. At the conclusion of that first visit I asked the young man to offer a prayer. In his prayer he asked the Lord to sustain us in the loss of our son and to bless the child that soon would be born. He specifically prayed that my wife would have no difficulty in delivering the baby. My wife and I were overcome by the sincerity and sensitivity of this young teacher. During the days and weeks that followed these brethren inquired about us regularly (more often than once a month). Following the birth of the baby, the young man, with his father, brought a gift. As we all knelt in prayer the teacher expressed his gratitude to the Lord for the safe delivery of the child.” Here is a young man who understands the importance of the assignment given him by the Lord. Other examples could be given. Home teaching is just one way in which we can use the priesthood to bless the lives of others.

On the plains of Paraguay sits the tiny village of Mistolar. It is located on a large stretch of land in a desolate area near the Pilcomayo River. There in this small farming community is a branch of the Church. In June of 1987, with the melting snows of the Andes, the river which was their lifeline for crops was also the source of their destruction. It overflowed its banks not once but twice, forcing the Saints to relocate and then relocate again. They lost everything: their chapel, their homes, their gardens and fences. For a month they waded in knee-deep water simply trying to stay alive.
The Area Presidency, hearing of their plight, dispatched supplies, and Elder Ted E. Brewerton of the Quorum of Seventy led the rescue party in a grueling two-day journey.
When the group arrived they were warmly welcomed by the women and children because the men, for the most part, were away hunting and fishing.
The people had little food and clothing to sustain them in that freezing winter weather, and their surviving livestock included three sheep, a few chickens, a goat, and a scrawny dog. At night their makeshift reed-and-stick homes offered very little protection.
Clearly their situation was bleak, yet the villagers were smiling. Their peace was a stark contrast to their destitute circumstances.
How were they sustaining their spirits under such difficulties? The answer came when Elder Brewerton asked the young branch president, “Do you have any sick among your members?”
The young priesthood leader paused and said, “I don’t think so; let me ask the other brethren.” A few minutes later he answered, “There are thirty-nine of us who hold the Melchizedek Priesthood. We watch over and bless our people.”
That evening at the branch meeting a sister offered a prayer, one Elder Brewerton will always remember. She said, “Father, we have lost our beautiful chapel, we have lost our clothing, we no longer have homes, … we don’t have any materials to build anything, we have to walk ten kilometers to get a drink of dirty river water and don’t have a bucket. But we desire to express to thee our gratitude for our good health, for our happiness, and for our Church membership. Father, we want thee to know that under any conditions, we will be true, strong, and faithful to the covenants we made to thee when we were baptized” (in Heidi S. Swinton, Pioneer Spirit [1996], 10; see 8–11).
When all around them had washed away, the Saints in Mistolar held firmly to the power of the priesthood and its spiritual blessings (see D&C 107:18). I can picture that Relief Society sister standing up to thank the Lord in prayer for all they had. They had practically nothing—not even a bucket. But they had their covenants, they had their Church membership, their commitment to Christ. They were blessed to become “partakers of the glories.” In the Doctrine and Covenants we read, “Blessed are you for receiving mine everlasting covenant, even the fulness of my gospel, sent forth unto the children of men, that they might … be made partakers of the glories which are to be revealed in the last days” (D&C 66:2).

During that busy time as a student, I would find myself having to choose between things like helping the young women set up a ward activity or studying for my mid-terms. I chose to listen to the same Voice that had led me to that place and decided to be with the young women. I then prayed and did my best to study with what time I had left.

Time and again I would take a test and somehow do well—always better than expected. The Lord is so merciful and kind. That is an important lesson I took away from my education: the character of God and His love for me as His daughter.

Ten years ago, my marriage ended. My ex-husband’s priorities did not include our family and, for more than nine years, my daughter and I struggled to live a normal family life. After the divorce, I worked hard to build a business, but it failed. I felt lost and unsure of my purpose in life.
In 2018, everything began to change. One day, I opened a fortune cookie that contained a verse from Psalms 18:1: “I will love thee, O Lord, my strength.” I had never read the Bible before; I grew up in Taiwan, following family traditions and worshiping ancient idols. Yet I was drawn to the promise of love and strength in that verse and kept the note in my wallet for months.
Later, I shared the note with a Christian friend and asked her about its meaning. She invited me to attend The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. When I entered the chapel I felt peace. A young missionary greeted me and, though I initially thought it was arranged, I learned he had simply followed a prompting to welcome newcomers. He invited me to learn more and I accepted.
At first, I struggled to connect with the teachings. However, when the missionaries shared Alma 32:21—“faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things”—I was intrigued. I wanted to learn how to develop faith in unseen things. As I continued the lessons, I felt God’s love for the first time in my life. I knew He understood my loneliness and struggles.
Through prayer and study, I witnessed miracles and felt peace. But I hesitated to be baptised. One day, while reading Alma 32:16, I realised God was inviting me to humble myself and trust Him. With a full heart, I chose to be baptised.
Three months later, I received my patriarchal blessing. I began to change as I followed God’s guidance. I felt inspired to search for my ancestors and pray for ways to help them. That same day, I discovered a 3,000-year family history, including an emperor from the Tang Dynasty. Weekly, I took their names to the temple to complete sacred ordinances by proxy.
When the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted my work as an immigration consultant, I sought to dedicate my time to the Lord. I applied to serve as a service missionary and temple worker. During this time, I also prayed for my daughter, who wanted to study in Canada. In the celestial room of the temple, I received the clear inspiration: “Everything is ready; go with faith.”
God provided miracles. My ex-husband agreed to pay my daughter’s school fees, and a missionary helped us find a place to live in Canada. I learned that as I drew near to God, He truly drew near to me (Doctrine and Covenants 88:63).
Later, I longed for an eternal marriage and prepared myself spiritually. After several failed relationships, I learned to see myself as a precious daughter of God. I eventually met my husband on a dating app and, through the Holy Ghost’s guidance, I knew he was the one.
In 2023, my husband and I moved to Scotland, where we faced many challenges. Yet God never abandoned us. Church members helped us find shelter and, through faith and prayer, we found joy in adversity. I obtained a visa just before stricter rules were enforced, allowing us to stay in Scotland permanently.
Today, I serve as a temple ordinance worker and look forward to assisting members in the future Edinburgh Scotland Temple, especially Mandarin speakers.
I testify that Jesus Christ is our Saviour and Redeemer. Because of Him, I found love, strength, and new life.

• In Otavalo, you step off a dirt road at the edge of town and walk through a patch of corn to a tiny, two-room home. Juan José Muñoz, second counselor in the presidency of the Otavalo Ecuador Stake, lives here with his wife, Laura, and their four children. Sister Muñoz is Relief Society president in their ward.
In 1986, the Muñoz family traveled to the Lima Peru Temple to be sealed. They could not have made it without the Lord’s help, President Muñoz says. For more than a year, they had put aside half of his earnings to help pay the cost; they sold some of their meager possessions and borrowed twenty dollars to scrape together the last of the money. In 1988, they repeated the trip, after the same kind of struggle.
Latter-day Saints must go to the temple to understand the full blessings of the gospel, President Muñoz says: “That’s why we are looking forward so much to having a temple in Ecuador.”

When I was about six or seven, I wanted to know if the scriptures were true. My mom said I needed to pray and find out for myself. I did, and I felt really warm inside. I know that the scriptures are true. I have a testimony that Jesus Christ suffered for our sins and that He helped many people. I also have a testimony of Joseph Smith. I know that the Church is true. I will always be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Photograph by German Sittner
Beatriz S., 15, is originally from São Paulo, Brazil, but she recently moved to Curitiba with her family. Once she was there, she started having problems with hair loss. “I did all the tests, thinking it was a lack of vitamins, but it was stress. It was psychological,” Beatriz says.
She found herself in a new place with no friends and a strange new culture. But when she felt alone, she knew that she could always count on Heavenly Father.
“I set a goal to make friends in my stake and to control my stress, and I downloaded an app that helped me control my breathing,” she explains. The app helped her practice meditation, and she focused a lot on the scriptures in her meditation. The hair loss eventually stopped as she adjusted.
“Now, I can see that I’ve improved a lot. I don’t think I’ll ever get that anxious again, because I’ve learned to focus on Jesus Christ. I’ve learned that I just need to control my breathing and help people.”

At a special fireside, stake president David G. Crittenden challenged the youth to prepare 3,000 names for the temple in four months. They would then spend three days of a school vacation doing baptisms at the Ogden Utah Temple.

Only about 100 names were submitted for temple work during the first month. To speed the work along, the youth spent two Mutual nights a month at the Ogden Family History Center. Initially unsure about sacrificing their regular activities, they soon discovered they looked forward to going. Family history even became a topic of conversation at school. Richard Thomas of the Third Ward says, “You have these great feelings that you’re doing something really important for people who could have been waiting for hundreds of years. This project used our time more wisely and was better than just doing fun things at Mutual.”

Working at the Ogden Family History Center helped the number of names submitted grow to 1,911. But numbers became unimportant to the teens as they realized the importance of what they were doing.

By the end of the project, the youth had submitted 5,846 names, and more were coming. The experience has had a long-lasting impact on stake members. Many teens continue to go to the temple every other week to perform baptisms before school. And the number of adults going to the temple to do endowment work and sealings has increased. At last count, more than 10,000 names have been submitted.

I sank into my seat for geometry just before the bell rang. That was close. I was still learning how to navigate the halls of my new high school. I pulled out my math homework and began rummaging through my backpack for a pencil.
“Psst … Sherilyn,” the guy behind me hissed.
I turned around to face Gary, a guy I had talked to only a few times since the beginning of the school year. We were in the same Spanish class later in the day, but I didn’t know him well.
“What?” I asked.
“Do you have your Spanish book with you?” he inquired.
A sinking realization hit me as I pictured my Spanish book where I had left it on my bedroom floor.
“Sorry, I don’t have it with me,” I replied. “I left it at home.”
“Oh, okay.”
“You know, I totally forgot to do the homework,” I remarked, frowning.
My Spanish teacher consistently checked to see if everyone had done the homework. “There goes another zero for me,” I thought. “Just what I need at the start of the year.”
“Do you want to copy mine?” he asked.
Copying homework was common at this school, and no one thought anything of it. You could walk down the halls and see people sprawled on the floor, blatantly copying their friends’ work. He was trying to be friendly, I’m sure, but I couldn’t do that. It would be dishonest, and I wouldn’t feel right doing it.
“Thanks, but no thanks. I wouldn’t really feel comfortable doing that,” I said.
He paused for a moment, smiled at me, and then he said something I will never forget: “I didn’t think you would. Actually, I didn’t even do mine.”
So what was he doing? Trying to test me? I was actually surprised that he would know enough about me to know I wouldn’t copy his work. It was only the second week of school, and I hadn’t known him the previous year.
“You’re Mormon, aren’t you?” he asked.
I said yes. We talked for a few minutes, and then our teacher started the class. I reflected on this incident for the rest of the day. I’d only talked to this guy a few times, yet somehow he knew that I, a new freshman in a school of more than 2,000, was a member of the Church. How?
Then I had another thought. What if I had accepted his offer? Not only would it have made me look stupid, because he hadn’t even done the homework, but how would that have affected his idea of how Mormons behave?
That experience made me sit a little taller the rest of the year. I knew he was watching me and that other people I didn’t even know were watching as well.

The day was scorching; my sister, Susie, and I waited impatiently outside the church for Dad to pick us up following his weekly golf game. The sweat trickled down my back; Susie’s golden curls were wet and drooping. I remember watching with envy as my friends left the church with their parents. I wished with all my heart that Mom and Dad would come with us to church. I had even prayed about it. But they always thought they were too busy or too tired. By the time Dad picked us up, we were half baked. I was angry at both him and Mom.
Mom had stayed home, as usual, fixing dinner. We sat around the table now, but I was still burning up inside. I detest spinach, so rather than taking any, I passed the bowl to Susie. Instantly, both Dad and Mom were nagging at me, saying, “Take some spinach, Dan! It’s good for you!”
I had reached my limit. I retorted, “Why don’t you come to church? It’s good for you, just like spinach is for me!” Dad struck me, and Mom left the table crying. I ran from the house angry and hurt.
“Am I a Christian, Rebecca?” I asked, as I came back to the present. “Let’s say I used to be.” She sensed my need for silence.
We walked along the dark, tree-lined street; only the crunching sound of autumn leaves under our feet interrupted the silence. I felt so alone in the cold, dark world. More than anything else I wanted Rebecca’s friendship. She seemed so sure of herself, so at peace with herself. I wanted to draw from her strength, to learn from her wisdom. I looked down at my feet, afraid of her warm eyes.
“Rebecca,” I whispered softly. “What is it that makes you so special?”
I could have guessed that she would say it was her belief in Deity; she impressed me as a deeply religious girl. I wondered, though, which religion was to receive the credit for making her so sensitive, tender, and caring.
I pressed further. “What is your religion, Rebecca? Are you Catholic, Protestant, or something else?”
Her lips held just a hint of a smile. “I guess I fall into the ‘something else’ category, Dan. I’m searching for truth wherever I can find it. I discover it in some unusual places. But I can’t help but wonder one thing. Is there one religion that contains all of the truth?”
Her question pricked me deeply. Her eyes were searching mine, imploring. I looked away—my past blazed before me. Silently, I bowed my head and prayed. I hadn’t done that in years! After a long moment, I returned her gaze.
“Rebecca,” I slowly began, “what do you know about the Mormon church?”

Refer to any atlas and it will tell you that the high point in Idaho is Borah Peak at 12,662 feet. But you might have a difficult time convincing 47 youth and 23 adults from the American Fork (Utah) 19th Ward of that. For them, the high point is known simply as “The Ranch” on the Idaho border just outside the small town of Freedom, Wyoming.
During summer vacation, this group participated in a not-so-typical youth conference: five days of hard work. And many of them even knew in advance that it would be hard work, because they had done the same thing last year.
“Sure it’s lots of work,” said 16-year-old Shirley Frazier. “But it’s also lots of fun. We play when we work. It’s not every day you get to work side by side with members of your ward. A bond is established, and I feel closer to the members of my ward and to the Lord.”
How much work can 47 youth do on a ranch in five days? Plenty. For example, they built fences with wooden posts and barbed wire, and they built a small bridge across a creek. They tilled and weeded a garden. They even finished constructing a barn (where they would perform plays and skits). As if that weren’t enough, they also cleaned up an old farmhouse once inhabited by barn swallows and mice, built a retaining wall with rocks they had gathered in a field nearby, and planted flowers.
You’d think that would be enough to tire them out. But there was also time for the fun usually associated with youth conferences. They boated, they fished, they swam. They played baseball in a pasture, organized and participated in a lip-synch contest where they imitated singers from the ’50s to the ’80s, and enjoyed a hayride on a wagon pulled by a team of Clydesdale horses.
“I think this is great,” said Elizabeth Toomalatai, 18, who, although not LDS, participated in the youth conference. “People get together and work—and have fun—at the same time!” Elizabeth, whose brother served a mission and is currently attending BYU, says she came to The Ranch with some friends “to see how members of the Church get together.” She added, “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
Obviously, The Ranch isn’t your typical ranch. Sister Lou Cille Hamnett, who runs the place with her husband Von and her son Scott, tells about the dream she and her first husband, the late Neil Carlisle, shared when they purchased the property. Over the years, ward groups from the surrounding states clamored for the opportunity to have activities at the site.
“When you walk around here and the sandhill cranes are flying overhead and the Canadian geese are flying and the ducks are out there on the lake and it’s quiet, well, there’s no place like it,” Sister Hamnett said. “People are living such a rat race that they don’t stop to smell the roses, they don’t stop to feel, really, the reverence of the soil and the clean air. I think that’s what you get up here. There is a special spirit here.”
Because of that special spirit, even after Brother Carlisle passed away in 1985, Sister Hamnett wanted to keep The Ranch going. But she had her doubts about whether it could be maintained.
Then Bishop Blake Wride and the youth of the 19th Ward came to the rescue.
“They knew what a large responsibility the upkeep and improvement of The Ranch would be for me. So he got all of his kids together and suggested coming up for a service project. I thought, ‘Well, why not?’ But I thought I would probably be baby-sitting them. Instead, this group has just been marvelous. Neil always said that giving to others was the most important thing. I knew we were giving by having these church groups come up here, but now someone’s giving in return.”
Like the unique focus of the conference, The Ranch is also unique in its character. The young men and women are quick to point out some reasons why. For example, there is an outdoor eating place known as the “Chuckwagon,” located where cattle used to roam the fields. The building that is now the kitchen was a place of shelter where the cattle sought refuge from the hot, blistering sun, or the hard, cold Idaho winters. Sister Hamnett still laughs as she explains how they had to borrow a tractor and clean two feet of manure off the ground when the transformation from cattle lounge to Chuckwagon began. But the youth don’t mind the Chuckwagon’s past. In fact, as soon as they arrived Monday afternoon, they were scrubbing down tables, and sweeping and mopping the floor in preparation for some “good fixin’s.”
And if you take a walk up the hill above the lake to look at The Ranch, you’ll get a bird’s-eye view of the six sheep wagons. Built by Carlisle himself, they provide cozy sleeping quarters for some of the guests. The six wagons are arranged in a tight circle in a small meadow, as if part of an old western movie set. You’d almost expect a few cowboys in chaps to come walking out of one of them.
And the garden. Well, that’s where an 80-year-old barn stood, until the weight of winter snow on the roof caused the structure to buckle. Youth from the ward helped weed and till the ground where the barn used to be in preparation for planting flowers and vegetables.
“Here, weeding is fun,” said 17-year-old Lisa Patterson. “I think working together seems to make it more fun, especially because we’re giving service.”
Corey Wride, 17, agreed, and added, “I was surprised at how the adults passed responsibilities on to us.” Even with all that good food at the Chuckwagon ready to be eaten by hungry, hardworking teenagers, Corey’s favorite expression seemed to be, “Well, I’m ready to get back to work.”
One girl is proud of the fact that she helped build a fence in one day. She is thrilled by the fact that she was part of an almost all-girl work crew that built the fence. One of the boys overheard her comments, then said with curiosity, “What I don’t understand is why girls get so excited about hammering nails into wood.” His statement was quickly answered, “Because this is a time when girls get to do many things they normally don’t get to do. The leaders are really understanding and they let us try new things.”
Girls hammering nails to help build a fence isn’t the only unusual activity going on at The Ranch. Boys are also participating in tasks they normally don’t do at home. Says Sister Cheryl Edmund, one of the ward’s youth conference specialists: “Where else can you see boys sweeping the kitchen (the Chuckwagon) and doing dishes?” And she adds with a laugh, “In broad daylight!”
On one particular day at The Ranch a visitor might see girls gathering up scraps of discarded wood from the barn project and piling it in wheelbarrows. As they push them along to be dumped into a hole in the ground for the night’s anticipated dutch oven feast, they laugh, talk about the upcoming play in the recently completed barn, and generally just seem to enjoy the natural beauty of their surroundings and the work they are doing. Having dumped the wood, some of them jump into the wheelbarrows for unorganized races back to the scrap pile.
What’s the secret to enjoying hard work and service? Bishop Wride says, “It goes back to what Elder Victor L. Brown said about service and youth: ‘May we remember that they would rather serve than be served. Self-sacrifice brings out their finest characteristics.’
Not only have the youth learned to appreciate service at The Ranch; they have had fun at the same time. For example, Jeff Eastwood, 18, earned the distinction of being the first one thrown in the lake. With a smile on his face, he’ll tell you that he really jumped in. On the serious side, he said he’s learned an important lesson by participating in youth conference. Jeff said he is grateful that his parents attended, too. “I’ve learned to live with adults in a different environment. My parents are interacting with my friends, and I’ve learned to act the same way in front of my family as I do in front of my friends. I’m being myself.”
With so much to see and do at The Ranch, it’s hard to say what was the most memorable part of this youth conference. Perhaps it was Thursday evening’s spiritual activity. It began with an invitation after dinner to take a hayride to a meadow for homemade peach cobbler and whipped cream. It was a perfect day: billowy clouds in a beautiful blue sky. When the young men and women arrived at the meadow, they enjoyed running around in the knee-high grass. And the tall pine trees on the hills that circled the meadow were surpassed only by the spirit of togetherness shared by the youth and adult leaders. When they finished eating, everyone sang songs. Suddenly, three men dressed in white came walking down the hill. As previously planned by the adults, but unknown to the youth, these three men represented the Three Nephites (see 3 Ne. 28).
“It was breathtaking, watching those white figures walk down from the hill,” said Sharon Frazier. “At first, we were all quiet, not knowing what to think. And then we started to sing, ‘I am a Child of God’ as they came closer. They told us that we are a choice generation, and very special spirits reserved especially for this time period.”
The youth were split up in groups, each accompanied by one of the three guests. Each group discussed a beatitude from the Sermon on the Mount (see Matt. 5), then discussed a particular question. One of the questions was, “If you could change something, what would it be?” Norma Nerdin, 15, said, “I’m going to make my Church habits more steady. You know, things like prayer and scripture study. And I need to talk about my problems more. Everybody has difficulties. It’s important that we let others know when we are having a hard time.” Norma said that it was a moment she would remember forever.
Heather Baxter, 16, was in another group. Her question was, “What would make you happy?” “I would want to have a pure testimony,” she said. “If someone asked me if I knew the Church was true, I would be able to know for sure and answer them without having any doubts.