Gospel Story Finder

In 1932, Lauri Lehtinen of Finland was favored to win the 5,000-meter run. An American named Hill challenged Lehtinen on the home stretch, bringing the crowd to its feet. As Hill moved to pass, Lehtinen swerved into his path. Hill tried to pass on the other side, and Lehtinen blocked his path again and forced the American to break stride. Hill barely missed catching Lehtinen at the wire.
The fans booed so long and loud that officials held up naming the winner for more than an hour. But since there was nothing illegal about the blocking, they declared the Finn the winner.
As Lehtinen mounted the victory stand’s top step, an enormous chorus of boos erupted. When the olive wreath was placed on his head, Lehtinen removed it, stepped down, and placed the wreath on Hill’s head.

The note was written on blue paper with zigzags drawn around the corners, so even though Jeremy handed it to her, Melanie knew the note was from Rachel. Melanie glanced around. Reading time was over, and her classmates were putting away their books.
Melanie knew how the note would start: “Dear Best Friend.” She smiled to herself. She and Rachel had been friends since second grade. “We’re still best friends, even though we’re very different,” Melanie thought as she unfolded the note.
Dear Best Friend,
Do you smoke?
—Rachel
Melanie was surprised. “Rachel and I are together all the time,” she thought. “Doesn’t she know I don’t smoke?”
She wrote on the bottom of the paper:
No. I think it’s gross. Why do you want to know?
—Melanie
Melanie handed the note back to Jeremy. Soon he passed it back again. Melanie read:
I snuck a pack of cigarettes from my aunt’s house. Do you want to try some with me after school?
—Rachel
Melanie stared at the note. Then she wrote:
Rachel! Why do you want to smoke? It’s bad for you! I know you like to try new things, but I don’t want to see you get hurt.
—Melanie
Rachel wrote back:
A few cigarettes aren’t going to hurt me. I might not even finish the whole pack.
—Rachel
Melanie felt like she was going to cry. She wrote:
You’re my friend, and I love you. Don’t smoke.
—Melanie
Melanie watched Rachel as she read the note. Now Rachel looked like she was going to cry. She held onto the note for a long time. Then she wrote back. When Melanie got the note, she read:
Thanks. I love you too. I won’t smoke the cigarettes.
Melanie was grateful she had chosen to be an example. She felt relieved that Rachel had made the right choice.

by John Jarvis

It was the first day of spring in the Rhone Valley in southern France, and the young people of Avignon celebrated with an exploration trek to an authentic castle—St. André.

Hanging on a cliff face, St. André overlooks the Rhone River in the small, medieval city of Villeneuve les Avignon. Crossing the “Bridge of the Kingdom” from Avignon to Villeneuve brought the car caravan of young Latter-day Saints into the old, narrow streets where the width of each car barely fit between the ancient walls. Members, friends, and missionaries enthusiastically greeted the magnificent guard towers of the castle entrance. With slits in the stone for archers and guard stations at the top of the towers, it was easy to understand why few would-be conquerors were able to withstand the rain of arrows and boiling oil to win the castle.

“My ancestors could have been soldiers here,” said Cathy as she explored the ins and outs of the fortress-castle that was built in 1360. The only entrance to the castle is between the guard towers where enormous wooden doors can be lowered to seal off the entrance.

Entering the castle courtyard, the group felt as though they had stepped back in time. Inside was a small village complete with bakery, homes, and stone chapel, all abandoned now. They thoroughly explored the castle including the dungeon. The group was impressed by the medieval French devotion to God. They discovered that the castle was actually built on the ruins of a 10th century abbey.

“It’s great to get out,” said Sylvie, “especially with other young people who believe as you do. There is always such a good feeling when we are doing things together.”

After the castle had been thoroughly explored, fun-loving Michele broke out the soccer balls she had stowed in the cars. In France, the only thing a group of young people like better than a good soccer game is two good soccer games. They organized the matches on the large, grassy plain just below the fortress.

It was an ideal day, and good company made it an exciting youth activity. From the castle high on a cliff overlooking the Rhone River Valley, some young members of the Church in France had learned something about their heritage and each other.

Paul ran down the school steps and got into Mom’s car.
“How was school?” Mom asked.
“Great!” Paul exclaimed. “We have a new girl in our class named Cristina. She is from another country, and she is just learning to speak English.”
“I hope you will help her feel welcome,” Mom said.
“I’d like to, but how can I do that if she can’t understand me?” Paul asked.
“That’s easy,” Mom said. “Just smile.”
“Smile? What do you mean?”
“A smile can mean hello, how are you, or have a nice day. It is an international sign,” Mom said.
“I never thought of it that way before,” Paul said.
A few days later, Paul was excited to tell Mom about his day.
“Mom, remember when you told me that if I couldn’t talk to Cristina, I should just smile?” Paul asked. “Well, it worked!”
“That’s great!” Mom said. “What happened?”
“During recess I noticed that Cristina was standing by herself. She had a jump rope in her hand, but she wasn’t jumping. I wanted to be nice, but I didn’t know what to say. Then I remembered what you said and I smiled at her. She smiled back. Then she started jumping rope, and for the rest of recess she looked happy.”
“That’s wonderful!” Mom said. “I’m proud of you for being nice to Cristina.”
About a month later, Paul went to a school party at the roller-skating rink. As he skated around, he noticed that Cristina was standing alone at the side of the rink. Then there was an announcement over the loudspeaker: “Find a buddy to skate with for the next song.”
Paul skated over to Cristina. She looked surprised. He gave her a big smile and motioned for her to join him. Just like that day on the playground, she smiled brightly. As they skated with their classmates, Paul realized Mom was right. A smile means friendship in any language.

Let me share with you some things I have discovered over the years, especially while I was involved in football. I didn’t have much confidence, but I wanted to play almost more than anything else. The coach told us to eat a lot of beans and drink lots of milk. I didn’t like milk, but I drank it. I really wasn’t all that hot on beans, but I persuaded Mom to make a pot as often as I could. The coach said to be in bed by 9:30, and I was in bed by 9:30. It wasn’t hard to do because the desire to play overshadowed all these little things. One thing the coach asked me to do that I couldn’t do was work out on Sunday. He had asked each player to do calisthenics on an individual basis on Sunday. In this thing I followed the teachings of the Church.

At regular football practice I would do every calisthenic exercise the best I possibly could. I felt like I needed to do more than the other guy because he had more talent than I did. I only remember missing one football practice in three years, with the exception of when I broke my leg. The one practice I missed was for my grandmother’s funeral. And even at that age I hoped the funeral would be at a time other than practice. For four weeks after I broke my leg I would go out and watch the team play. After four weeks I persuaded the doctor to take the cast off, and six weeks after my leg had been broken I had the privilege of playing in another game.

He had been home about seven months when he ran into “Sister Morgado” at a multistake dance. Ulisses had served as her zone leader for a time, and the two spent the evening catching up and sharing mission stories. Three weeks later, they began dating.

Rosana Fernandes Morgado was eight when her older sister, Margareth, began taking her to church. Eventually, the two faithful young investigators received permission from their father to be baptized, but each had to wait until she was 17. Rosana attended church for nine years before receiving permission to be baptized.

Ulisses lived in northern São Paulo, and Rosana lived with her parents in the city’s southern sector. Travel across the sprawling city took two to three hours by bus and subway. Fortunately, Margareth and her husband, Claudio, lived near her parents’ home.

“When Ulisses came on weekends to date Rosana, it was tough for him to return home so far at night,” recalls Elder Claudio R. M. Costa, General Authority Seventy, of his future brother-in-law. So, he and Margareth invited Ulisses to spend the night at their home after his dates. “We adopted him for a while,” Elder Costa adds.

“He would sleep on the couch in our living room,” says Sister Costa. “We were recently married, so we didn’t have extra blankets. But he would cover himself with an old curtain we had. He was happy because he could see Rosana again the next day. He was good to my sister, and my parents liked him very much.”

Ulisses and Rosana were married in the São Paulo Brazil Temple on October 30, 1982.

The closeness of the family now is in contrast to the separation that employment forced upon Brother and Sister Khanakam after they were married in 1981. “A month after our marriage, we were sealed in the Tokyo Temple. When we came home, I returned to Chiang Mai, where I had a good-paying teacher’s position, and my wife returned to her family home in Mahasarakham 830 kilometers away. We lived that way for about a year. But the full-time missionaries would keep asking me, ‘Wisit, do you have the faith the Lord will bless you if you keep your temple covenants? You need to be with your wife.’
“So I quit my job in Chiang Mai and found one in Mahasarakham. I was earning less than half what I had made in Chiang Mai. That’s when we learned to apply welfare principles in our family. We learned how to budget our income, to work with our hands, and to raise a family in the gospel.
“I was called as president of the Mahasarakham branch, and my wife was called as Relief Society president. I was the only male member in the branch. It took a couple of years for the membership to grow. Now they have a chapel of their own—not because of anything we did, but because of the love and unity that the people there have.”

I wasn’t exactly nervous to join elders quorum because I felt like I knew what to expect. I also knew everyone in my ward’s elders quorum. They were my friends’ dads and men I already looked up to as mentors. I knew they were happy to help me understand things, so it wasn’t nerve-racking to join them in elders quorum.
What was a little nerve-racking was contributing to the lessons. At first it was hard to think that I could offer anything to men who had so much more life experience and so much more wisdom than I did.
Elders quorum is definitely different from priests quorum. Instead of a bunch of guys your age, you’re suddenly with adults. The first couple of times I went, I didn’t really say anything. I worried that I was too young and didn’t know enough to contribute.
But the more I’ve been going, the more comfortable I’ve become, and the more I’ve come to realize that no matter how old you are, everybody has something to contribute. Everyone has different experiences with the gospel and everyone has different levels of understanding of different principles.
One time we were talking about the Savior’s Atonement, and I raised my hand. I just told how thanks to His Atonement, Jesus Christ not only frees us but can also help us become closer to Himself and to God. I talked about my relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and how it has been strengthened as my understanding of the Atonement has grown. After class, a man came up to me and thanked me for my comments. He told me he had never thought about things the way I had said them and really appreciated my insight.
In elders quorum, you don’t just learn from a teacher; you also learn from the Spirit and everyone else in the quorum. All that perspective helps you gain greater insight into the things that you are taught. And that helps you be a better servant of the Lord. For example, since I’ve become an elder, I’ve started liking ministering a lot more! I think I take it a little more seriously because I know that when I’m a missionary in a few months, I’ll be visiting people and sharing the gospel with them just like I do when I minister. Instead of just sitting there and letting my companion do everything, I’ve started preparing for our visits. I make sure to speak up. I know it’s good preparation for my mission, but it has also made ministering become more meaningful to me. I now have a greater appreciation for the people in my ward and the people I minister to.
You don’t need to be intimidated by elders quorum, but you can definitely look forward to hear more wisdom about the topics you’re learning about. You can look forward to becoming a better teacher, leader, and servant of the Lord. And that is so cool!

Kaemin and Ikani (“Kolby”) already knew a lot about prophets. But visiting the North Visitors’ Center on Temple Square helped them see in a new way how prophets testify of Jesus Christ.
That day Kolby and Kaemin got to see life-size replicas of prophets from the scriptures. They learned that even though prophets live at different times, all prophets testify that Jesus Christ is our Savior and the Son of God.
After learning what prophets taught of Christ, Kolby and Kaemin walked up a spiral ramp to the top of the visitors’ center. There they saw a large statue of Jesus called the Christus. They listened to a recording of Jesus’s teachings. The things that the prophets taught about Jesus are the same things Jesus taught about Himself.

“Time to go, Jacob!” Mom called.
Four-year-old Jacob hopped off his bed and ran downstairs. “What are we going to buy? Can we get treats? Can I help you?”
It was Jacob’s turn to go shopping with Mom, and he was full of questions.
“We are going to buy groceries, and if you are a really big helper, we just might have time to make cookies for family home evening when we get home.”
Jacob smiled as Mom helped him into his seat in the car and buckled the seat belt. This was going to be great!
Mom pushed the grocery cart up and down the aisles while Jacob held the shopping list. He helped organize the groceries and got to choose if they got red apples or yellow apples, and red potatoes or white potatoes.
When they were finished getting the items on the list, Jacob helped push the heavy cart up to the checkout line. He watched as Mom put the groceries on the conveyor belt.
Suddenly, Jacob noticed that the shelves he was standing by were full of candy and gum. Mom didn’t buy those things very often. Jacob saw a package of Blueberry Blast bubble gum and knew it tasted really good. He put the package in his pocket.
As they were driving home, Mom said, “You’re very quiet, Jacob. Are you tired?”
“No.”
“OK. Will you help me unload the groceries when we get home?”
“Sure.”
When they got home, they carried the bags of groceries inside and put them on the kitchen counter. Mom looked at Jacob carefully. “Where did you get that big piece of gum?” she asked.
Jacob shrugged his shoulders and looked at the floor. Mom knelt down and asked him again.
“Where did you get that gum, Jacob?”
Jacob took the package of gum out of his pocket.
“Did you take that gum from the store?”
Jacob felt like crying. He nodded his head slowly. Mom looked sad.
“Jacob, when we do something that is wrong—like taking gum from the store without paying for it—it’s like digging a deep hole and standing in the bottom of it. We need to do important things to get out of the hole.”
“What do we do first?” Jacob asked.
“We need to know that we have done something wrong and feel sorry about it. I think you already know that taking the gum is wrong. Are you sorry?”
“Yes. I know it was wrong. I feel sad now,” Jacob said.
“Then we need to fix the problem the best we can. Since you already opened the package of gum and ate some of it, we can’t give it back to the store. What do you think we should do?”
“I have some money. I could go back to the store and pay for the gum.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll take you.”
Jacob ran upstairs and got his money jar. Mom helped him count out enough to pay for the gum.
When they got to the store, Mom held Jacob’s hand and took him to the manager’s desk. She told the manager that Jacob had something to tell her.
Jacob felt nervous. He pulled the package of gum out of his pocket and put it on the counter.
“Did you take that gum without paying for it?” the manager asked.
Jacob nodded.
“Would you like to pay for it now?”
“Yes.”
Jacob put his money on the counter. The manager printed a receipt. She put the gum in a bag, gave the receipt to Jacob, and smiled at him. “Thank you for being honest and coming back to pay for the gum,” she said.
Jacob felt much better as he and Mom walked back to the car.
“You are doing a good job climbing out of the hole, Jacob,” Mom said. “But there’s something else you need to do.”
“What?”
“You need to tell Heavenly Father that you are sorry, and promise Him that you will try to keep the commandments from now on.”
When Mom and Jacob got home, they went into a quiet room and knelt down together. Mom helped Jacob say a prayer. He told Heavenly Father that he was sorry and wouldn’t take anything from the store without paying for it ever again.
When the prayer was finished, Jacob was surprised that he didn’t feel bad anymore. Not bad at all! In fact, he felt clean and happy again—just like he had climbed out of a hole, and had a bath too!

The hot sun beat down on Bhutto’s shoulders as he crossed a dry riverbed. He found his father on the other side, sitting beneath a baobab tree, making a bow to be used for hunting. Without saying a word, Bhutto knelt by his father’s side and watched him work. First his father poured sand over a large leaf. Then he wrapped the leaf around the bow and rubbed it up and down. Slowly the rough wooden surface of the bow became smoother.
“It is a hot day for one so young to be walking about,” said Bhutto’s father.
“I am not so young,” Bhutto quickly answered. “I am almost twelve years old.”
“Ah.” His father smiled. “So you are. But why have you come looking for me, Bhutto?”
Bhutto took a deep breath and rocked back and forth on his heels. “I have come to ask you if I may begin hunting alone.”
Bhutto’s father stopped working and looked at Bhutto. “You are a good hunter. You have worked hard to learn how to hunt. Now you must learn when to hunt.”
“And how will I learn this?”
“By hearing a story,” answered his father. “Listen. Many years ago, in the direction from which the sun awakens each day, there lived a people here in Africa called the Mazumbas.”
Bhutto stopped rocking on his heels and sat down. He did not want to miss a word of his father’s story.
“The Mazumbas were greater hunters than others because the tips of their arrows were sharper and finer than any man could make.”
“How did they make the arrow tips?” asked Bhutto.
“They did not make them,” said Bhutto’s father. “They found them in a secret cave. And because the Mazumbas had such sharp arrow tips, no animal could stand against them.”
“Not even lions?” Bhutto asked.
“Not even lions,” said his father.
“Not even elephants?” Bhutto tried again.
“Not even elephants,” answered his father. “Not even the Great Beasts of the plains.”
Bhutto looked puzzled. “What are the Great Beasts of the plains?”
“The Great Beasts were the hardest of all the animals to slay. They had the eyes of an eagle, the ears of a giraffe, and the swiftness of a gazelle. But even so, the Great Beasts could not hide from the Mazumbas.
“One day, one of the Mazumbas was hunting when he came across the tracks of a Great Beast. For many hours he followed the tracks through grasslands, over hills, and down ravines until they led to the entrance of the secret cave.”
“Where the Mazumbas found their arrow tips,” Bhutto remembered.
“That’s right,” said his father.
“And was the Great Beast inside?”
“Yes, he was. And when the hunter saw the Great Beast, he put an arrow to his bow.”
“Did he kill the Beast?” Bhutto asked excitedly.
“Not right away,” answered his father, “because the Great Beast began to speak.”
Bhutto frowned. “Animals cannot speak.”
“That is true,” Bhutto’s father answered. “But the Great Beasts were not like other animals.”
“What did the Great Beast say?”
“He said, ‘Please do not kill me, great hunter of the Mazumbas. Your people have killed all the Great Beasts except me.’
“But the hunter just laughed and said, ‘If you did not want to be caught, you should not have come into our secret cave.’ And with that, the hunter let the arrow fly.”
Bhutto watched his father string the bow he was making. “Is that the end of your story?” he sadly asked.
“Not quite, Bhutto,” said his father. “When the Beast fell to the earth, a stone rolled from his mouth—a sharp stone, sharper than any a man could make.”
“Then, it was the Great Beasts that made the arrow tips!” Bhutto cried.
“Yes. The Great Beasts went to the secret cave to chew on stones and sharpen their teeth. The arrow tips were what they left behind.”
“But the hunter—he killed the last Beast!”
“Yes, and because of that, the Mazumbas soon used up the last of the very sharp arrow tips. No longer were they the great hunters they had once been.”
Bhutto sat very still and listened to the wind. It howled like a lonely animal at night.
“Here,” said Bhutto’s father, handing him the bow. “I was making this for you.”
Bhutto took the bow from his father and ran his fingers up and down the wood. He turned it over and pulled the string. “Oh, Father, it is a wonderful gift! I shall take very good care of it!”
“And my story? Did you learn anything from it?”
Bhutto was quiet for a long time. He thought about the Mazumbas. He thought about the Great Beasts and how beautiful they must have been. “I have learned to try to choose wisely about when to put an arrow in my bow and to be certain I need what I kill. For every time I take something from the earth, it can never be quite the same again.”
Bhutto’s father looked at him and smiled. “And now,” he said, “you are ready to hunt alone.”

Let’s begin with becoming charitable. I will remind you of recent experiences. Many of you participated in a day of service. There were thousands of them organized across the world.
A council of your fellow Saints prayed to know what service to plan. They asked God to know whom we should serve, what service to give, and whom to invite to participate. They may even have prayed not to forget shovels or drinking water. Above all, they prayed that all who gave service and all who received it would feel the love of God.
I know those prayers were answered in at least one ward. More than 120 members volunteered to help. In three hours they transformed the grounds of a church in our community. It was hard and happy work. The ministers of the church expressed gratitude. All who worked together that day felt unity and greater love. Some even said that they felt joy as they pulled weeds and trimmed shrubbery.

“I was a young boy during the depression. Our home was situated not far from the railroad tracks where the vagrants would ‘ride the rails.’ The men came in twos or threes to our back door for something to eat. I can never remember my mother turning those men away hungry. She would fix them a sandwich, give them a glass of milk, and send them on their way with a word of cheer, having a feeling in her heart that she had done some good.
“I was fortunate when I was a boy to have an outstanding Sunday School teacher. When she talked about the apostle Paul, we could almost hear him preaching. She made every character in the scriptures come alive. She was an unusually kind woman and let us boys know that she expected us to be gentlemen.
“In our class we had collected some money to use for a big party. One Sunday morning our teacher came to class and told us that one of our classmates would be absent—his mother had passed away. We were all very unhappy. The subject of the lesson that morning was that it is better to give than to receive. After she had presented the lesson, she talked about the hard times ahead for the absent boy’s family. ‘How would you students like to follow the Lord’s teachings?” she asked. ‘How would you feel about taking our party fund and giving it to this boy’s family as an expression of love?”
“The decision was unanimous. I remember that I was the treasurer of the class, and the teacher said to the boy’s father, ‘Brother Devenport, the class would like to make an expression of their feelings.’ Then she called on me to make an expression, and afterward I handed our party fund to him. I think that was one of the first times I saw a grown man weep. This simple act of kindness welded our class together. We learned through our own experience that it truly is more blessed to give than to receive.
“I would encourage the youth of the world to seek out opportunities to help other people, to do good to all, and to share what they have with others. It is the pathway to happiness. As we willingly share, we’ll strengthen our testimonies. But if we attempt to keep all good things to ourselves, we’ll lose everything.”

In tournament golf competition, there is a rule that a contestant must be disqualified if he signs an incorrect scorecard or turns his card in without signing it. Gary Player did that once and was eliminated from a prestigious tournament. He was asked if someone in the scoring tent couldn’t have reminded him to sign.
“My friend,” Player replied, “there are responsibilities in life. You cannot shove your responsibilities onto the shoulders of someone else. This was my responsibility. I failed to meet it, so I must suffer the consequences.”

When it came time to plan youth conference, leaders of a stake in northern Utah, USA, asked the youth what they thought would make it memorable.
After some discussion, their answer was simple: “We want to serve!” They decided they wanted to make a difference where they live. They wanted to help the hungry and the homeless, the lonely and the elderly. They also wanted to hold workshops in which professionals could help people struggling with serious issues like suicide and depression.
They adopted the theme, “You Love, You Serve.” And during the three-day youth conference, they did just that.
The youth served in a food bank and sorted canned food donations.
Photographs by Richard M. Romney
Along with sorting food, youth also built benches for a homeless shelter.
“Knowing that Jesus Christ served those around Him makes me feel like I’m emulating the Savior,” said Stephen J., 13. “Taking His name upon me, that’s what’s great about being able to serve others—we’re being like Jesus, and that’s who I want to be like the most.”
For another service project, the youth prepared hygiene kits for a homeless shelter for youth.
Some of the youth spent the afternoon cleaning up trash and weeding gardens in a community park.
“When I went to school in the school next door, this park was totally trashed. It’s been that way for a long time,” said Karlos S., 12. “And now we’re the ones who actually cleaned it up. I’ll always have that feeling that it was amazing to clean something up as we did the work of the Lord.”
“It would have been hard to weed this whole place all by yourself,” said Glenn B., 13. “But when we worked at it together, we got it all done in a couple of hours. Look what we did together. That’s pretty cool.”
The youth wanted to put on a talent show where seniors were the guests of honor.
In addition to the talent shows, youth also asked seniors what their wishes were. On the night of the talent show, several seniors had their wishes granted. One man simply wanted a pizza. Another wanted Mexican food.
On the last day of the youth conference, a Superhero 5-K run was held to raise money to help the homeless.
“Serving together got us into different types of groups, and that helped us to get to know new people,” said Rosemary A., 13. “And that’s part of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, to get to know other people. It’s nice to work side-by-side to help others, to give instead of just always receiving.”
Throughout their conference, the youth learned something marvelous about their theme. “You Love, You Serve” works like a cycle—your love for the Lord causes you to serve others as He would. Then as you serve, your love for Him and for others grows, and so does your desire to serve.

Take a dose of Irish mist, mix well with 13 lively Scouts (plus three tired leaders), add a blazing campfire, a bucketful of gnats, and stir with tons of energy. The result? A bubbling, sizzling Scout camp set at Castlewellan beside the Mountains of Mourne, deep in the wilds of Northern Ireland.
Scouting has been organized in the Belfast Northern Ireland Stake barely two years. The 111th Belfast Troop includes both member and nonmember boys who found many adventures during their campout. The highlight was the obstacle course on the last day, which was won by 11-year-old John Pratt, a fourth-generation Latter-day Saint.
Fourth-generation Saints are rare in northern Ireland. John’s great-grandmother was baptized in 1926 in England when missionaries still wore top hats. To celebrate the Church’s 150 years in the British Isles, John and some of his fellow Scouts went to the National Jamboree in Preston, England, further strengthening the Scouting program in the British Isles.

Losing my mother when I was 10 was the most difficult moment of my life. My pain was deep and overwhelming. My life became confused, and I could not focus on school. Worse, my father was not around either. I was completely alone. I had no perspective and didn’t know how to move forward with my life. I was unprepared to manage the grief and pain of living without my mom. I had to learn to do everything on my own and I especially had to learn to defend myself from bad influences around me.
Today, thinking back on those times, I know I was never alone. I always had my Heavenly Father by my side. As a child, I attended an all-girls Catholic school, and the nuns were of immense help to me, teaching me how to make good choices. They taught me to love God, to believe in Him, and most of all, to trust Him.

Serving a mission was a sacred time of my life. In my last interview with him as a full-time missionary, President Blair Pincock spoke of the upcoming change in mission leaders, as he and his wife were also nearing the completion of their service. We were both sad to be leaving something we loved so much. He could see that I was troubled by the thought of not being a full-time missionary. He was a man of great faith and lovingly taught me as he had for the previous two years. He pointed to the picture of Jesus Christ above his desk and said, “Elder Olsen, it is all going to be OK because it is His work.” I felt reassured knowing that the Savior will help us, not just while we are serving but always—if we will let Him.

As Carole reached to examine her work more closely, something fell from within the scarf. She withdrew her hand for a moment, then grasped a well-worn Book of Mormon. On the cover was printed, “NAOMI STEWART SWEET.” Carole opened the book to the inside cover and read,
“To Sweetie,
“This is a copy of the book I was telling you about. I hope you’ll read it even though you think it’s all fairy tales and wishes. Daddy says that you should read it and then pray to Heavenly Father and ask him if it’s true.
“I’ve already read it with my family, and even though I don’t understand everything, I know I can understand more each time I read it. I think the stories have good messages, and I love the prophets that wrote them. I also love Jesus, and I want to be like him. I love you, and I want you to know Jesus like I know him.
“With love from Carole.”
Carole clutched the book and looked out the window at fluffy snowflakes falling in glistening crescents along the corners of the windowpanes. How could it be that she had known Jesus so much more when she was only eleven years old? Where had her love of the Savior gone? She again thumbed through the book and looked at its color-streaked pages. Sweetie had read it and read it countless times. It was not age that made the book look like an antique, but its use. Carole had brought Sweetie the gospel message, and now she felt she was letting her down by wavering in her own testimony.
Carole began reading the marked verses and the notes written in the margins. One verse marked in yellow caught her eye, “O … the foolishness of men! When they are learned they think they are wise, and they hearken not unto the counsel of God, … wherefore, their wisdom is foolishness and it profiteth them not” (2 Ne. 9:28).
Images of her professors and their accusations of the irrational nature of religion and of the Church flashed through her mind. Yet she felt triumphant that she had been defending what she knew deep inside was right. She continued to read, “But to be learned is good if they hearken unto the counsels of God” (2 Ne. 9:29).
Carole felt a flicker of hope. She was doing something good by learning at college. She just needed to keep up her study of the gospel. All at once, her guilt fled, and she realized she had a lot of work to do to get her testimony to the height it had been during her Primary days. For the first time in months, she felt happy.
Carole quickly put everything back into the trunk and came down the stairs. Sweetie was waiting with eager anticipation.
“Well, do you like it? Did you find the ring? I was sure you’d want it,” she smiled.
“Oh, Sweetie, thank you. Thank you for the best present anyone has ever given me!”
As Carole hugged Sweetie, she smelled cinnamon and ginger, and she smiled as a new feeling of hope grew inside of her.
“Come on, Sweetie,” she said. “You’ve got a tree that needs trimming.”

After not being able to go to church and then experiencing an earthquake in our city, we decided to sing Primary songs to older people in our neighborhood. It was like Christmas caroling but in spring! We knocked on their doors and stood back from the house with a sign saying that we loved them and that they didn’t need to invite us in. They were so surprised and happy to hear us, and it was fun! It helped us feel better when we felt scared.
Emily and Lily D., ages 8 and 4, Utah, USA