Gospel Story Finder

To help explain what the Savior has done for us, President Boyd K. Packer, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, told the story of a man who borrowed a great deal of money. He bought something he had always wanted. But when the bill came due, he could not afford to pay it. He knew that his creditor would take away his possessions as payment and throw him in jail.
Then the man’s friend came to rescue him. The friend asked, “If I pay your debt, will you accept me as your creditor?” The man gratefully agreed, and his friend told him, “You will pay the debt to me and I will set the terms. It will not be easy, but it will be possible.”
Because the friend was willing and able to pay, the creditor received the money that was fairly owed him. At the same time, the man was able to keep his possessions and not go to jail. (See “The Mediator,” Ensign, May 1977, 54–55.)

My father passed away in April 2013. As I prepared to speak at his funeral, I realized how blessed I was to know and love his favorite scriptures. He shared them in family gatherings, and he read them with me when I needed counsel, guidance, or strengthening of my faith. I heard him share them in talks and assignments. I not only knew them, but I can still remember the sound of his voice and the spiritual feelings I had as he shared them. Through sharing scriptures and feelings, my father helped me to establish a firm foundation of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.
My father particularly loved the account of the Savior’s visit to the people of Nephi. This sacred account is of the resurrected and exalted Lord Jesus Christ. He had drunk of the bitter cup and suffered all things so that we would not suffer if we would repent. He had visited the spirit world and organized the preaching of the gospel there. He had risen from the dead, and He had been with and received commandments from the Father to share scriptures with the Nephites that would bless future generations. He was exalted and had all of His eternal power and capacity. We can learn from every detail of His teachings.
In 3 Nephi 11, we read how the Savior descended out of heaven to teach the Nephites that He was Jesus Christ, whom the prophets testified would come into the world. He declared that He was the Light of the World and that He glorified the Father in taking on the sins of the world. He invited the people to come forth to put their hands into His side and to feel the prints of the nails in His hands and in His feet. He wanted them to know that He was the God of Israel, who was slain for the sins of the world. The people joyfully responded, going forth one by one until they had all seen and felt that it was truly He of whom it was written by the prophets that should come.
Jesus taught the Nephites about the importance of repentance, about becoming as a little child, and about the need to be baptized by one having His authority. He then taught much of the doctrine that we are studying this year in the New Testament.
In 3 Nephi 17, we read that Jesus told the people it was time for Him to go unto the Father and also to show Himself unto the lost tribes of Israel. As He cast His eyes on the multitude, He noticed that they were in tears, looking steadfastly upon Him as if they would ask Him to tarry a little longer.
The Savior’s response to the Nephites was both touching and instructive. He said, “Behold, my bowels are filled with compassion towards you.”
I believe that His compassion was much more than a response to the people’s tears. It seems that He could see them through the eyes of His atoning sacrifice. He saw their every pain, affliction, and temptation. He saw their sicknesses. He saw their infirmities, and He knew from His agonizing suffering in Gethsemane and on Golgotha how to succor them according to their infirmities.
Similarly, when our Savior, Jesus Christ, looks upon us, He sees and understands the pain and burden of our sins. He sees our addictions and challenges. He sees our struggles and afflictions of any kind—and He is filled with compassion toward us.
His gracious invitation to the Nephites followed: “Have ye any that are sick among you? Bring them hither. Have ye any that are lame, or blind, or halt, or maimed, or leprous, or that are withered, or that are deaf, or that are afflicted in any manner? Bring them hither and I will heal them, for I have compassion upon you; my bowels are filled with mercy.”
And the people came forth “with all them that were afflicted in any manner; and he did heal them every one as they were brought forth unto him.”
In 1990 we were living in the small town of Sale, in Victoria, Australia. We were happily busy with family, Church, and work commitments. On a beautiful summer Saturday just before Christmas, we decided to visit some parks and a favorite beach. After enjoying a wonderful day playing as a family, we packed everyone into the car and headed home. While driving, I momentarily fell asleep and caused a head-on car accident. After some moments of recovery, I looked around the vehicle. My wife, Maxine, had a badly broken leg and was struggling to breathe. She had a broken sternum. Our three daughters were in shock but thankfully appeared to be OK. I had some minor injuries. But our five-month-old son was unresponsive.
Amid the stress and confusion of that accident scene, our eldest daughter, 11-year-old Kate, said with urgency, “Dad, you need to give Jarom a blessing.” After some struggle, my daughters and I managed to get out of the car. Maxine couldn’t be moved. Carefully I picked Jarom up; then, while lying on the ground on my back, I gently placed him on my chest and gave him a priesthood blessing. By the time the ambulance arrived about 40 minutes later, Jarom was conscious.
That night I left three family members in the hospital and took a hushed taxi ride home with two of my daughters. Through the long night, I pled with Heavenly Father that my family and those injured in the other vehicle would recover. Mercifully, my prayers and fervently offered prayers by many others were answered. All were healed over time, a great blessing and tender mercy.
Yet I continued to have deep feelings of guilt and remorse for causing such a terrible accident. I would wake during the night and relive the horrific events. I struggled for years to forgive myself and to find peace. Then, as a priesthood leader, while assisting others to repent and helping them to feel the compassion, mercy, and love of the Savior, I realized that He could heal me.
The Savior’s healing and redeeming power applies to accidental mistakes, poor decisions, challenges, and trials of every kind—as well as to our sins. As I turned to Him, my feelings of guilt and remorse were gradually replaced with peace and rest.
President Russell M. Nelson taught: “When the Savior atoned for all mankind, He opened a way that those who follow Him can have access to His healing, strengthening, and redeeming power. These spiritual privileges are available to all who seek to hear Him and follow Him.”
Brothers and sisters, whether you are carrying the burden of unresolved sin, suffering because of an offense committed against you long ago, or struggling to forgive yourself for an accidental mistake, you have access to the healing and redeeming power of the Savior Jesus Christ.
I testify that He lives. He is our Savior and Redeemer. He loves us. He has compassion for us, He is filled with mercy, and He can heal you. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

While in my first area, my mother and other siblings qualified to receive their temple ordinances. I was fortunate enough to have been allowed to participate. I was sealed to my parents in the Manila Philippines Temple. My third missionary companion was given the opportunity to proxy for my father during the sealing. It was a great spiritual experience for our family to receive unparalleled blessing from the Lord.

As a young BYU student I learned a little something about staying on course when heading home. One Christmas Eve my brother and I left to drive home to Kansas. But early in our journey we learned that a huge snowstorm was heading our way, so we pulled out a map, identified a detour that would skirt the edge of the storm, and headed into parts unknown. Our creative navigating proved dangerous. Our new route was unfamiliar, and we still ran right into the blizzard. To make matters worse, late that night as we were creeping along in blinding snow on an obscure highway, our old Ford quit. We were stranded. And we had absolutely no idea where we were.

Eventually we caught a ride to the nearest town, where we found that we were still hours from home and marooned in Last Chance, Colorado. At that point there was only one thing to do. We called home for help. In the middle of the night our father left to come and rescue us. By the next afternoon we were all safely home.

I’ll never forget Christmas Eve in Last Chance, where we were immobilized by a problem largely of our own making and one we were unequipped to solve. That day our father did for us what we could not do for ourselves.

“Oh, Mommy, do they have to come tomorrow?” I asked in a pleading voice.
“Of course they do. I’ve asked them to come early so they can stay all day, not just for Christmas dinner.”
“Why can’t we ever be by ourselves? Then we could have leftovers the next day,” I said. I didn’t like guests much, and especially not the Lindsays. They had five children, and these kids were the most ragged bunch in the whole school. My friends all said they were “different.”
“Christmas is for sharing, Karen,” my mother said. She was making pies for Christmas dinner and the spicy smell of apples and cinnamon filled the house.
“We won’t have enough food with the way the Lindsays eat. They’re always starving,” I grumbled, grabbing an apple while my mother put a pie in the oven.
“Now, Karen. You know we have enough for everyone, and Christmas is about giving. Now why don’t you go join your brother and Matthew to get the tree today.”
“Matthew? You mean Matthew Lindsay came over to get our Christmas tree too?” I was mad. My brother Jim and I always did that together. It was our tradition.
“Yes, Karen. Now hurry along,” she said. “And I want you to be nice to Matthew,” she added.
I put on my boots and my old coat and mittens and went out to find my brother. I didn’t even want to add Matthew’s name in my thoughts. It just wasn’t fair. Jim would be talking to him the whole time. They were both 12, and they wouldn’t even ask me about which tree to pick.
I saw them over by the barn getting the ax to chop down the tree.
“Hurry up, Karen, or we’ll have to go without you,” Jim shouted to me. He would never have said that if Matthew weren’t coming. He would have needed my help. I felt even madder.
Matthew smiled at me as I walked up to them. I just looked the other way.
The boys talked together all the way to the woods. I could have joined in, but that would have meant giving up my sulking, so I didn’t.
“Hey, Matt, how about that one?” Jim pointed at a beautiful tree. It was in the middle of a swampy area, but it was so cold that the water had frozen and we were able to get to it.
“What do you think, Karen?” Matthew asked me. I wished he hadn’t asked. I didn’t want to feel anything but angry right now.
“It looks OK,” I said grudgingly. It really was pretty, and I had to smile when I looked at it.
Matthew smiled too, and I began to feel better. Maybe things weren’t so bad after all.
Jim and Matthew took turns chopping while I stood and watched. The tree started to fall in my direction. I jumped to the side to get away, and my feet broke through the ice! It wasn’t that deep, but the cold water went over the tops of my boots. It was awful, and it made my teeth chatter. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want Jim to wish he hadn’t brought me. But Matthew saw, and he helped me dump the icy water out of my boots.
By the time we were pulling the tree home over the snow, the sun had dropped low over the hills. It was so cold that my feet were stinging and I could hardly keep from crying.
When we were halfway home, I fell in the snow because my feet were numb and I couldn’t keep up. I was so cold and miserable that tears began slipping down my cheeks.
“What’s the matter now, Karen? Come on, we need to hurry home before it gets too dark,” Jim said as he pulled me to my feet. But I couldn’t walk another step.
“Here, I’ll carry her if you’ll drag the tree and carry the ax,” Matthew said. “The tree is heavier, and you’re bigger than I am.”
Matthew handed the ax to Jim and pulled me up on his back. I suddenly realized that Matthew’s hands were bare. They must be as cold as my feet, but he was willing to carry me. I slipped off my mittens and handed them to Matthew. Then I tucked my hands in the long sleeves of my coat. He couldn’t turn around to look at me since I was on his back. I was glad because I didn’t want to see his kind face after I had been so mean to him.
Maybe my friends were wrong about the Lindsays. Maybe I should tell them so.

Leah had the jitters. That’s what Mommy and Daddy called it when she got a little scared.
Leah was a Sunbeam. Her Primary had been practicing their sacrament meeting program for the past few weeks. She had enjoyed saying her part during the practices.
But today was the real program, and she was nervous. She wanted to stay with Mommy and Daddy. She did not want to look out at all the grown-ups.
“There are too many people,” Leah whispered to Mommy.
“Do you have the jitters, Leah?” Mommy asked.
Leah nodded.
Mommy put her arm around Leah and hugged her tight. Leah sang some of the songs in her mind that she had learned for the program. She felt calmer, but she was still a little nervous.
The bishop invited the Primary children to the stand. Mommy walked with Leah up to her seat in the front. Mommy showed her that the chair had a special tag with her name on it.
When Mommy gave her a kiss and turned to leave, Leah felt full of jitters again. Then she noticed Daddy and her little brother Taylor smiling as Mommy left to sit down. Daddy gave her a little wave, and Taylor blew her a kiss.
Leah paid attention as Sister Cassidy raised her hands to tell everyone to stand up. Leah knew exactly what to do. She knew the song the pianist started to play. Leah sang as loud and as pretty as she could, just like her teachers had shown her. Soon it was her turn to say her part.
She walked to the microphone and said, “I know Heavenly Father loves me. He hears me when I say my prayers and helps me to be good.”
Leah reverently walked back to her seat. The jitters were gone.

One of David’s favorite priesthood responsibilities is home teaching families in his ward. Home teaching taught him that service in all forms is appreciated. For example, when he was first ordained, he and his dad were assigned to visit an elderly couple. “They just enjoyed the company,” he says, “and I enjoyed doing little things to help them out. It’s nice to get out and do something for someone else.”

Irene Kabongo (my co-host) and I were both invited to accept the assignment to present Rising Gen: Europe to an Area Seventy (Elder Alan Philips) who works closely with the Europe Area Presidency. At that point I had been developing the broadcasts for a couple of months with my fellow members of the Europe Young Adult Advisory Council but didn’t expect to be asked. I felt honoured, trusted, a little daunted, but excited to get to work.
Having never worked as an on-screen presenter before, I had to learn a lot of new skills quickly on the job (camera awareness, speaking clearly, interview skills, etc.). The hardest work, however, was definitely off-camera:
putting together an amazing team of videographers and technicians
finding the right people to interview both in and out of the studio
finding lovely musical items
prayerfully consulting with interviewees about what we should discuss in each episode
making sure that what we put on screen reflects Europe’s diverse nations, cultures and people
As both a creatively and technically-minded aspiring-architect, I loved the merging of creative and technical skills that a broadcast like this requires. I love being part of a major Church project which is distinctly European. Furthermore, I learned that I really love to interview people — connecting with them and drawing out their wisdom. Interviewing also reinforced my strong belief in the inspirational influence of the Holy Spirit. There were many occasions where I was blessed with inspiration as to what to ask, what to say, and when.
I have learned so much about Christlike love and conduct from the goodness of our leaders and their families. Up until this year, these were men and women whom I had only ever seen speaking on-screen at general conference, or from a distance at a stake conference. I have now had many interactions with them both virtually and in person, and I count them as some of the most wonderful people I know who want the very best for me and my generation.

Many years ago I was returning home after dropping my husband off at school. The drive would take me through a canyon in the mountains of Utah.
I had our new baby, April, with me. This was long before infant car seats, so April lay wrapped in a blanket on a pillow in the front seat, her head resting on my leg.
To stay awake on this late trip I was singing the last hymn we had sung at church, “Abide with Me; ’Tis Eventide” (Hymns, no. 165). As I sang it started raining. When we reached the canyon the rain turned to snow and began sticking to the pavement.
Rounding a bend on the narrow two-lane road, I found a herd of deer directly in my path. I hit the brake, and the car slid. On my right was the mountain, and on my left the road dropped off to the river. There was nowhere to go but straight ahead. Holding the steering wheel with one hand and grabbing my baby with the other, I got ready for impact. But to my amazement, the deer just stepped aside, allowing us to pass.
After clearing the herd, I looked in the rearview mirror. The herd hadn’t frozen in the headlights or scattered—as deer normally would when frightened. They had merely backed up enough to let a little Volkswagen bug through. It felt to me like our parting of the Red Sea. I rejoiced for the 10 miles (16 km) home, thanking God for “abid[ing] with me.”
When I arrived home and got out of the car, I realized what a tragedy it could have been and wasn’t. Tears started to flow. Even if I had hit just one deer, it could have caused serious damage to the tiny car and injury to my baby and me. The near miss had occurred five miles (8 km) from the nearest farmhouse, and we hadn’t passed any vehicles on the road through the canyon or the rest of the way home. I cried with joy, holding my baby in my arms and thanking God for protecting us from harm.

Something for the Teacher
All of us have dreams—things we’d like to do—but how often do you hear about people helping each other achieve their own individual dreams? That’s why the actions of the Laurel class of the Smithfield (Utah) Ward are so heartwarming. Said their teacher, Patricia Cannell: “Ever since I was a child I have loved to draw and paint. Now that I’m married, we have no room for my hobby in the house. Sometime during the MIA year when we were sharing dreams, I mentioned my desire to buy an old train caboose and make it into an art studio.”
That’s when the girls took over. A caboose was found. The cost to move it was $106. Unbeknown to the teacher, the girls sold window-cleaning fluid door-to-door at 35¢ a pint. At a recent birthday party for the teacher, guess what she received as a present from her Laurels?
A caboose.

From there we flew to France to take care of Church business. We then flew to Rotterdam and drove to The Hague. Work in three nations in one day is a rather heavy schedule for an old man.
The following day we dedicated The Hague Netherlands Temple. Four sessions were held. What a touching and wonderful experience that was.
The temple is a beautiful structure in a good area. I am so grateful for the house of the Lord which will accommodate the Saints of the Netherlands, Belgium, and parts of France. Missionaries were first sent to that part of Europe way back in 1861. Thousands have joined the Church. Most of them emigrated to the States. But we have there now a wonderful body of precious and faithful Latter-day Saints who are deserving of a house of the Lord in their midst.

Pornography pretends that it is no evil stranger—that it is not a problem and is not addictive. That is a lie. One 12-year-old boy recently wrote to the New Era, telling of his experience viewing pornography when he was alone at home. While initially it was exciting, he soon felt deep despair. He wrote: “I have been trying my best to forget those images. I would like to say to anyone reading the Friend or New Era that while porn might be pleasurable, it really wrecks your soul and is hard to recover from.”

Change your attitude. By looking at a problem in a different way, it may be possible to reduce discouragement. I have been impressed with the pioneer story told about Zina Young. After experiencing the death of parents, crop failure, and sickness, she was encouraged with a spiritual experience that changed her attitude. While attempting to seek divine help, she heard her mother’s voice: “Zina, any sailor can steer on a smooth sea, when rocks appear, sail around them.” A prayer came quickly: “O Father in heaven, help me to be a good sailor, that my heart shall not break on the rocks of grief” (“Mother,” The Young Woman’s Journal, Jan. 1911, 45). It is often difficult to change circumstances, but a positive attitude can help lift discouragement.

I witnessed a simple example of this kind of prayer when Elder Dallin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and I were assigned to conduct a videoconference interview of a couple in another country. Shortly before going into the studio, I reviewed once again the information we had collected about the couple and felt I was prepared for the interview. A few minutes before the appointed time, I saw Elder Oaks sitting alone with head bowed. In a moment he raised his head and said, “I was just finishing my prayer in preparation for this interview. We will need the gift of discernment.” He had not neglected the most important preparation, a prayer to consecrate our performance for our good and the Lord’s glory.

“I’m afraid to share my testimony with nonmembers because:
“They might not be prepared to hear it.”
“They might reject it, and then I would feel rejected.”
“I’m not sure what to say or how to express my testimony.”
During the second week of our member-missionary class, I recognized a marvelous opportunity to share my testimony of the plan of salvation with a nonmember friend who had just had her first baby. By putting my trust in the Lord, I was able to express my testimony of God’s love. It was a wonderful experience that led to tears of joy and an undeniable feeling that God does love us. I followed up later by sharing a copy of the Book of Mormon with her, which she welcomed and agreed to read.

Remember the May 1992 Mormonad? It depicted a basketball player, quite a bit shorter than his teammates, holding the MVP trophy. The coverline read, “Don’t Sell Yourself Short.”
Well, Ty Church hasn’t.
At about the time he posed for that Mormonad, Ty, at only five-feet-two inches tall, broke into the starting lineup as a sophomore on the Olympus High School varsity basketball team in Salt Lake City. During his three years as a starter, Ty never missed a game, and was instrumental in the Titans’s successful 1993–94 hoop season. As a senior, Ty was the second leading scorer in the state tournament, he broke a Utah high school record by scoring 21 points in the first quarter of a game, and he helped Olympus to a second-place state finish. But now the basketball heroics have been put aside for a couple of years.
These days, Ty is known as Elder Church. After graduating from both high school and seminary, he became a full-time missionary last September. With an eight-week stay in the MTC behind him, Elder Church, 19, is now serving in the Czech Republic Prague Mission.

The gospel changed Brother Ng’s life. “My wife tells me I was entirely different after joining the Church,” he says, laughing. “My temper became smooth. My finances were better because I paid tithing. I didn’t worry about food or shelter because I kept the commandments. A happy life followed.”
After seeing the difference the gospel made in her husband’s life, Sister Ng Pang Lai Har also investigated the gospel. Missionaries often visited their home, teaching her husband one of the new member lessons, then teaching her one of the 18 discussions.
Ten months after her husband’s baptism, Sister Ng was baptized. Brother Ng had the privilege of baptizing their seven children as they reached age eight.

Something happened to me yesterday afternoon that I found of great help to me, and it may be of help to you. Since that moment, the fear has gone. It was when Bishop Hales was speaking in conference. He mentioned that we had known each other since boyhood, and as he did a memory was replayed in my mind. It was of a hotel ballroom in New Brunswick, New Jersey. Bishop Hales was likely not there, since he lived in what seemed to us the well-established stake in New York. We were in the New Jersey District, a single district that covered the whole state. The Princeton Branch met in my parents’ dining room. Dad was the branch president. Mother was both the pianist and chorister (which is hard to do if you think about it). There was not another family in the branch with children, so my brother Ted was the Aaronic Priesthood, and my brother, Harden, and I were all there were of Primary and junior Sunday School. The congregations were young students who happened to be there, like Jim Fletcher and Neil Zundel, and a few older converts—none with spouses that were members.
There was no building, no gym, no stake center, and so we traveled to a hotel ballroom for what must have been a district conference. I was sitting on a folding chair somewhere near the back, next to my mother. I must have been very young because I can remember putting my legs through the back of the chair and sitting aft instead of forward. But then I remember hearing something—a man’s voice from the pulpit. I turned around and looked. I still remember that the speaker was at a rostrum set on wooden risers. There was a tall window behind him. He was the priesthood visitor. I don’t know who he was, but he was tall and bald, and he seemed very old to me.
He must have been talking about the Savior or the Prophet Joseph, or both, because that was all that I remember much of hearing in those days. But as he spoke, I knew that what he said came from God and that it was true, and it burned in my heart. That was before scholars told me how hard it was to know. I just knew of certainty—I knew it was true. And when I listened to Bishop Hales yesterday, I knew that what he was saying was from God and that it was true, and then the fear left.

Illustration by Ken Harvey
I didn’t usually run home from school and fling open my scriptures to study them, but today was unusual. Sprawled on my bed, I booted up my laptop and typed two words: Dear Jessica.
I’d known Jessica for a few years, but our conversations were brief. One day in English, however, we were assigned seats by each other, and our class discussion ventured into the topic of religious symbolism.
I was surprised when Jessica, an atheist and usually argumentative, started asking the teacher questions that were uncharacteristically sincere: “What did ‘Godhead’ mean? What does it mean that there are three members?”
Finally, Jessica leaned back and confided to me, “I’m glad I’m not religious; it just seems like a lot to keep track of.”
I struggled for words, but I couldn’t let a moment like this pass. “I actually love the Church,” I said at last. The discussion was moving on, so we promised to talk more after class. I shared a bit of my testimony and eventually lent her a few books about our faith.
After a few weeks of discussions both religious and nonreligious, Jessica finally said, “I understand what you’re getting at, Sydney, but I don’t know if I can believe all of this. I just can’t believe that God would let so many bad things happen to us.”
I didn’t feel ready to answer her question on the spot, so I asked for her email, which led to me being sprawled on my bed, scriptures open, unsure of what to write.
I refocused on the screen. Dear Jessica. I looked at the sticky notes I’d filled with scriptures and started writing.
As I wrote, the Spirit surged up within me. Each word fell together with power and clarity.
Dear Jessica,I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through, what your struggles are, or what the exact words you need are, but God does.
I’ve been thinking a lot about your questions: “Why do I have trials? And why doesn’t God just stop them and make everything easier?”
First, it’s important to understand that progression is eternal. We don’t just become worthy of God’s presence overnight. It’s a lifelong process. Struggle is required, but even though life is hard, I know that “men are, that they might have joy” (2 Nephi 2:25). God does not cast our struggles upon us because that’s just how life is; He desperately wants us to be happy. However, I can say that this life is about not only our natural progression through struggles, but about our eternal progression in overcoming them.
Jessica, Jesus Christ knows how to come to our aid! While you have struggles in your life, Jesus Christ had them in His too. I promise that He understands every one of your struggles exactly and that He knows you personally. I know I’m only a 15-year-old girl, but I know He lives, that this is all true, and that He loves you more than it is humanly possible to imagine.
Please come to me with any more questions you have!
Love,
Sydney
I stared at the document for a few minutes. I’d written for almost two hours, leafing through scriptures and every example I could think of to produce this. As I scanned through it, I felt completely at peace. I closed my scriptures and clicked Send.
Jessica and I never talked about that letter, and she ended up moving. I don’t know if my words will lead her to the gospel this year, in 10 years, or ever in this lifetime, but writing that email helped my testimony. I’m confident it can have the same effect on her as soon as she chooses to let it.

When my father-in-law passed away, our family gathered together to greet others who came to pay their respects. Throughout the evening, as I visited with family and friends, I often noticed our 10-year-old grandson, Porter, standing near my mother-in-law—his “granny.” Sometimes he was standing behind her, watching over her. Once I noticed his arm linked with hers. I watched him pat her hands, give her little hugs, and stand by her side.

For several days after that experience, I couldn’t get this image out of my mind. I was prompted to send Porter a note, telling him what I had observed. I emailed him and told him what I had seen and felt. I reminded Porter of the covenants he had made when he was baptized, quoting Alma’s words in Mosiah chapter 18:

“And now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light;
“Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, … that ye may have eternal life—
“… If this be the desire of your hearts, what have you against being baptized in the name of the Lord, as a witness before him that ye have entered into a covenant with him, that ye will serve him and keep his commandments, that he may pour out his Spirit more abundantly upon you?”1

I explained to Porter that Alma taught that those who want to be baptized need to be willing to serve the Lord by serving others—for your whole life! I said: “I don’t know if you realized it, but the way you showed love and concern for Granny was keeping your covenants. We keep our covenants every day as we are kind, show love, and take care of each other. I just wanted you to know I’m proud of you for being a covenant keeper! As you keep the covenant you made when you were baptized, you will be prepared to be ordained to the priesthood. This additional covenant will give you more opportunities to bless and serve others and help you to prepare for the covenants you will make in the temple. Thank you for being such a good example to me! Thank you for showing me what it looks like to be a covenant keeper!”

Porter replied back: “Grandma, thanks for the message. When I was always hugging Granny, I didn’t know that I was keeping my covenants, but I felt warm in my heart and felt really good. I know that it was the Holy Ghost in my heart.”

I also felt warm in my heart when I realized that Porter had connected keeping his covenants with the promise to “always have his Spirit to be with [us]”2—a promise made possible by receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost.