Gospel Story Finder

In closing let me share an experience that I had while still quite young. To the best of my recollection, it was while I was a student in the sixth grade at the Garland Elementary School. I had not quite turned twelve. It was spring, and I was anxious to join the scores of other boys who had signed up to compete in the Deseret News Pentathlon.

As you may know, penta comes from the Greek word meaning “five.” Thus, the pentathlon consisted of five track and field events that all of the boys in the state could compete in. The pentathlon, as I indicated, was sponsored by the Deseret News and was conducted throughout the grade schools across the state. The scores that you attained in the various events were computed by applying a factor for age and height and weight. They were then added together and sent to Salt Lake City, where winners in various categories were selected. Winners received recognition and, among other things, an expense-paid trip to Salt Lake City, where they spent a day as special guests of the newspaper.

The five events consisted of the high jump, broad jump, shot put, basketball free throw, and fifty-yard dash.

The pentathlon was the talk of the school. Most all of the boys who were old enough were suited up for the event. At age eleven I was a ninety-eight-pound weakling; but more troublesome than that, I had marginal coordination. But how I wanted to do well in that athletic event. I suppose in that respect I was not much different than anyone else as I imagined the thrill that would accompany one to the winner’s circle. I knew that I wasn’t what you would call a coach’s dream. But I had studied the rules carefully. I was hopeful that the factors for height, weight, and age might give me a chance.

Well, I really got into it. I found a round rock that weighed within an ounce or two of the regulation five-pound shot put. I spent considerable time in the evenings when the chores were done throwing the shot put around the backyard.

I also dug a broad-jump pit that I used to practice my broad jump and high jump. I nailed some old flooring boards together for a backboard, installed a hoop, and secured it to the end of the barn. Though it was not fancy, it provided a facility with which to practice my foul shots.

The big day finally came. All who were participating were excused from school for the afternoon. We began with the shot put. I did exceptionally well for my size. This was understandable because of my experience with the round rock at home. My practice shooting foul shots paid off, and I scored well in that event. The high jump didn’t go quite as well. Here again, my lack of coordination worked against me.

Then it was time for the fifty-yard dash. We lined up by the starter and were off. It almost instantly became obvious that I would view the race from the rear of the pack. But how I tried! I gave it all the effort I had. As I passed where the coach was standing, I noticed him turn and say something—then there was a burst of laughter from those who stood around him.

We crossed the finish line. I was fifth of five runners. I resigned myself to the fact that there would be no trip to Salt Lake for me that year. But the worst was yet to come. As I approached the place where the coach had been standing, one of the more arrogant boys couldn’t wait to call out, “Hey, Hansen, the coach says you run like a duck.” And there was more laughter. As you picture that characterization in your mind, you’ll have to agree it was quite descriptive and probably an accurate evaluation of how I looked.

Well, of course, I laughed too, but many thoughts went through my mind. I was angry, I was hurt, and I was embarrassed. When I went to bed that night it was still on my mind. When I awakened the next morning, those pointed words came back, “Hey, Hansen, the coach says you run like a duck.”

I struggled with that situation for quite some time. I admit I had thoughts of never getting on the athletic field again. But then some Danish determination must have come out in me. I resolved I would learn to run. And I was going to show the coach and my friends, but I suppose most of all myself, that I could do it.

From that moment forward, every time I had some distance to go, I ran. When coming in from the fields at noon, I ran. When the grain bin on the harvester was full and I had to get the truck to empty it, I ran. When I went to the pasture to get the horses, I ran. As I had spare time while on army duty in Korea, I practiced my running. And after returning home, I kept it up.

Though I realized I had made some substantial progress, it was not until a particular stake fathers and sons’ outing that I had a chance to evaluate those twenty-plus years of determination.

It was shortly after we had moved into our current stake. We were at a campground in the Uintas for the Saturday morning games. All of the youth had run their races, and then the call came for “everyone over twenty-one.” As I lined up with the dads and others, I noticed a young man in the group who had made a name for himself at East High School in the 440-yard run. I knew he would be the challenge.

Again the starting gun sounded, but this time, instead of bringing up the rear, I was in front. I remained there as we crossed the finish line. Of course, the coach wasn’t there to see it, neither were my grade school friends, and particularly the arrogant little guy with the loud voice. But this I know, winning the pentathlon could not have resulted in the self-satisfaction I felt as I shared the first prize—a giant candy bar—with my two little sons that day.

What a lesson in life I gained from that experience. I learned humility, as I was humbled. I learned tolerance, as I successfully fought back the urge to slug the boy who shouted out the characterization the coach had used to describe my athletic prowess. I learned patience, as I found that some things take several years of determination to accomplish. And I experienced the sweet feeling that comes from successfully accomplishing a goal.

Clara loved her family’s Christmas Eve traditions. First they ate baked fish for dinner and Christmas cookies for dessert. Then they visited the Christmas market. When they got home, they read the Christmas story from the Bible together. And before bed they lit the Christmas tree for the first time and got to open one present each. It was Clara’s favorite night of the year. She could hardly wait!

Until Mom made an announcement.

“We’re having a special Christmas Eve guest this year. Remember Ms. Rainer?”

Clara groaned. “The neighbor Dad invited to church last week?”

“That’s right. Dad’s picking her up now.”

Clara plopped into a chair. How could she relax and have fun with a stranger around? Christmas Eve was ruined! Well, Ms. Rainer hadn’t come to church when Dad invited her. Maybe she wouldn’t come this time either.

But when Dad came through the door, the “special guest” was with him. Ms. Rainer looked tired and kind of sad. Clara said hello. But she didn’t want to say anything else. At dinner she just focused on her food while Mom and Dad chatted with Ms. Rainer.

“Have you ever taken dance lessons?” asked a soft voice. Clara saw that Ms. Rainer was waiting for her to answer. She nodded and looked back down at her plate.

“Me too,” said Ms. Rainer, her voice still quiet. “What’s your favorite dance style?”

Clara shrugged and pushed her vegetables around her plate.

“I love ballet,” Ms. Rainer said. “I was on a dance team at university. One year we traveled all over Europe. It was amazing.”

Clara looked up. That did sound amazing.

“What else do you like?” asked Clara.

Ms. Rainer gave a small smile. “Playing the piano. And math.”

Clara’s eyes got big. “Really? Math is my favorite subject!”

Clara talked to Ms. Rainer for the rest of dinner. She found out that Ms. Rainer had a college degree in math and was studying to become a math professor when she met her husband. He had made some bad choices and was now in prison.

After dinner Clara stayed by Ms. Rainer while they walked around the Christmas market. And when they read the Christmas story, she shared her scriptures with Ms. Rainer so she could follow along.

Soon it was time to open presents. Clara got some cozy purple pajamas. She couldn’t wait to put them on! But she felt a little bad that Ms. Rainer didn’t have a present.

Just then Mom handed a gift to Ms. Rainer. Ms. Rainer smiled shyly and unwrapped a pair of dark blue socks. She looked up at Mom with watery eyes. “Thank you. You really didn’t need to get me anything.”

Clara went to her bedroom and put on her new pajamas. She couldn’t stop thinking about Ms. Rainer. She seemed so grateful to get socks for Christmas!

As Clara slipped her own fuzzy socks on, she heard beautiful music begin to play. She ran downstairs to find Mom and Dad singing carols while Ms. Rainer played the piano. Clara joined in. As she sang, a warm feeling grew in her heart. “I guess it’s not so bad to have a guest on Christmas Eve,” she thought.

On Sunday, Ms. Rainer came to church and sat with Clara’s family during sacrament meeting. She looked really happy. Clara smiled as she shared her hymnbook with Ms. Rainer. Maybe it was time to add a new Christmas Eve tradition.

We were greatly blessed in our effort to obtain visas into Salalah in Dhofar. (See illustration 7.) Our request for visas made months before in the United States had been politely but firmly refused; Dhofar was disputed territory between Oman and Yemen and not a safe place for tourists. When we reached Muscat, Oman, we called on the Minister of Information, a young man, fluent in English, and explained that we had come all the way from America to see the big trees at Salalah because we had an ancient book that reported a Semite family’s building a ship, perhaps from those trees, to sail to America where their descendants became the American Indians. He was astonished.

“Salalah is my home and there are large trees there, but I have never heard this story.” He agreed to give us passes into the war zone if we would bring letters of introduction from the U.S. Embassy in Muscat. We acquired the desired letter of introduction. Because of the tense military situation, we were asked to fly down one day and return the next. We were naturally disappointed to have only 24 hours in Salalah, but we agreed cheerfully. We discovered later that on the day before our arrival at Muscat, the commander of the rebel forces had surrendered to the Sultan of Oman, ending 13 years of hostilities. Thus, two days after our arrival in Oman, the Minister of Information was willing to issue a pass into the war zone.

I love that the new Children and Youth program lets me set goals for myself and work on them with my family. One of my goals is to put on a scripture play every Sunday with my younger brother Sam.
One time we chose Daniel in the lions’ den. It was fun planning it. But then our little brother Michael, who is four, said, “Can I do the play with you?”
At first we said no.
But Michael started to cry.
So I said, “Sam! Come to the basement.”
Sam and I went down to the basement. Sam said, “Michael can’t be in the play. He can’t memorize his lines!”
But I had an idea. I said, “Let him join the play. Listen, he could be a lion! You can’t have Daniel and the lions’ den without a lion. Let’s go get him!”
On Sunday, the day of the show, we took our spots and started the show. We did a very good job. Michael did great roaring.
I know the Spirit was with me when I said Michael could be in the play. This experience taught me that if someone seems sad or lonely, we should include them. I hope you try the new Children and Youth program. I know it will help you be more like Jesus too!

Four Generations, by Kwani Povi Winder
I became active in the Church when my Uncle Bill took my two sisters and me to Primary. My Primary teacher, Jean Richardson, was a kindly mother figure. I liked her and my new church friends, who were much kinder to me than the kids in my neighborhood. So, I decided to stay.
As I approached my 12th birthday, Bishop Dal Guymon invited me to receive the Aaronic Priesthood and be ordained a deacon. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I said yes. Then he said, “Why don’t you ask your dad to bring you here next Sunday, and we will ordain you.”
Dad and his family had stopped attending church when he was about 13. As an adult, he spent most weekends in the local bars or fly-fishing. He had served in the US Navy during World War II and the Korean War. He smoked cigars, drank, and swore, but he had a reputation in our small Montana town for being honest and fair.
When Dad took me to church the next Sunday, it was a big deal. When the time came, Bishop Guymon called me up and asked me to sit in a chair. Several men—but not my dad—put their hands on my head and performed the ordinance.
I felt the heavy weight of several big hands on me. Dad, sitting on a bench a few feet away, felt a different kind of pressure—in his chest. A voice spoke to him inside, saying, “You need to be there for your boy the next time this happens.”
In the weeks that followed, Dad turned his life around and started to attend church every Sunday. Soon, the Church became the central focus of our family life.
Dad became my deacons, teachers, and priests quorum adviser; my Sunday School teacher; and my basketball, softball, and volleyball coach. While we were home teaching companions, Dad helped other men and families return to Church activity.
Assisted by my dad, I experienced my own personal and transformative conversion. Since then, I have tried to be sensitive to men who, like my dad, might respond to an invitation to become the best dad they can be.
I will be forever grateful for what my Uncle Bill, a kind Primary teacher, a wise bishop, and my dad did for me 60 years ago.

I want to say how grateful I am for BYU-Idaho. When I was 18 years old (way back in the 1900s) I drove my brother’s car across the state to start as a freshman at then Ricks College. As I pulled into my housing complex for the first time, a wave of homesickness and panic came over me. I almost turned around and drove home. I’m so glad that I stayed. I can’t count the number of blessings I’ve received from this institution. It is wonderful to be part of this university.

Talking with Junko, Hiroyuki, Tetsu, Mikako, and the other young members from the Tokyo area, it was easy to wonder what Elder Heber J. Grant or other early missionaries to Japan might say if they could speak to them today. On August 12, 1901, Elder Grant (who later became the seventh president of the Church), along with three other elders including 19-year-old Alma O. Taylor, sailed into Tokyo Bay to open the first LDS mission in Asia. During the next 23 years, only 166 baptisms were recorded, and the mission was closed, not to reopen in Japan until 1948.

Since then, however, the Church has grown rapidly. Today there are approximately 71,000 members in Japan, 15,300 in the Tokyo area alone. And some of them have parents or even grandparents who joined the Church and raised their children as members.

Junko’s father, for example, was a convert to the Church. He and his wife raised six girls and three boys—an exceptionally large family by Japanese standards—in the gospel, sharing with them often the story of their conversion. “It makes me feel fortunate, blessed really, to have been born in the Church,” Junko said.

Shoko Sakamoto, 14, from the Tokyo Third Ward, is the youngest daughter in her family. She came to the interview with her mother. “My parents joined the Church when I was in kindergarten,” she said. “So everyone in my immediate family is a member of the Church. It is a great blessing. In our home evenings we all learn to be friends with each other. Happiness is being with my family.”

Sarah Kikuchi, 16, from the same ward, was also raised in an LDS home. Her father and mother were constantly involved in church activities, always accepting church callings, and so were the children, including Sarah.

“I watched the Church grow and I thought that someday there might be a General Authority from Japan,” she said. Then on October 1, 1977, Yoshihiko Kikuchi was sustained as a member of the First Quorum of the Seventy. “I never suspected that my father would be one!” Sarah exclaimed. (In July 1982, after these interviews were held, the Kikuchi family moved to Salt Lake City, Utah.)

Sarah said that her Church background has helped her grow in many ways. “When I was little, I was bashful and afraid to do anything. But as I grew up, I was given speaking assignments and committee responsibilities, and it forced me to learn to be more outgoing. Now I’ve got a little more pluck. I’m not afraid to speak in public.” Saturday morning before meeting the rest of the group at the temple, she had given a speech to the entire student body of her high school.

Ask Sarah what she thinks of the Church and she is unwavering: “I know that Joseph Smith founded this Church after having seen God and Jesus.”

The majority of young members in Japan are, however, converts themselves.

Hiroyuki Inoue, 17, of the Machida First Ward, remembers vividly the day he and some friends went into Tokyo “just to hang around.”

“We saw several missionaries at a display in the street. One of them held out his hand to me and said, ‘I would like to talk to you a little.’ I was strongly impressed with this missionary’s sincere eyes, his beautiful, shining eyes. He gave me a feeling that what he was telling me was of great significance to me. I promised to attend church the following day.

“At church, even though I had never been there before, I felt as if I was coming back after a long absence. The missionaries taught me the gospel. When I learned about the atonement of Jesus Christ and the many blessings the Lord has given to us, I was happy. My knowledge became sure that he is my Savior and this is his Church.”

Kenji Nishibori, 17, of the Sugamo Branch, learned of the restored gospel from his older brother. “I knew he was attending meetings, but I was afraid to go to his church,” Kenji said. “Then about five months later, I ran into missionaries on my way home from school. I didn’t think I was serious about investigating, but I went to their chapel, in another part of town where my brother wouldn’t see me. As I listened to the speakers in the meeting, I found what they were saying was marvelous. Then I began to investigate in earnest, and it didn’t take long before I had a testimony of the truth. My father died 12 years ago, but now my brother and I are hoping our mother will someday join the Church.”

Kenji was wearing a dark uniform that buttoned down the front. Asked about it, he explained that it was a school uniform. “They may vary from school to school, but everyone wears them. When I graduate from high school I won’t be able to wear it anymore, so I want to wear it as long as time permits.”

Will he soon be wearing the “uniform” of a missionary?

“I already wear it, when I go to church or work with the elders. So I’m used to it. There is a necessity to go on a mission. We must spread the gospel to many, many people. More than 80 years ago, when the first missionaries came to Japan, people did not know about the Church at all. We have grown a lot compared to 80 years ago. Yet we still have a long way to go. We won’t have done our work until everyone in Japan knows about the gospel. And then we can go on to other lands.”

Heber J. Grant would be proud.

“Ohayogozaimasu! (oh-hi-oh go-ZAH-ee-mahss)” the bishop’s counselor said into the microphone.

“Ohayogozaimasu! (Good morning!)” the congregation responded out loud.

It was the next day, Sunday, and sacrament meeting in the Yokohama First Ward was beginning. The youth played a significant role, as they do in most sacrament meetings. A young man acting as usher had just finished handing out programs at the door. Aaronic Priesthood brethren were preparing to bless and pass the sacrament. Youth speakers sat nervously in their chairs, knowing they would soon have to stand and present a message. The bishop signaled a deacon to come forward and run an errand for him.

Yokohama, located 18 miles south of Tokyo, was only a small fishing village until the emperor opened it to foreign trade in 1859. Today it is a leading port and shipbuilding center of the world, and its expansion has merged so much with that of Tokyo that many Westerners consider it almost a suburb. Two wards, the First and the Second, meet in the Yokohama chapel. Both include a lot of teenagers. And talking with them only reinforced the impressions formed by talking with the youth in Tokyo.

Koji Saito, 17, explained that Church growth in Yokohama has been largely a family affair.

“Three sisters who were members of the Church moved to Yokohama to be close to their parents,” Koji said. “Then more and more relatives joined the Church. The Saito, Endo, and Tanaka families in our ward are all related. I wish more people in Japan would understand that sometimes there are entire Mormon families here, not just isolated converts.”

Koji’s sister, Yuki, 15, said that her family likes to spend time together. “Because of my father’s work situation, we can’t have home evening on Monday. So instead we get together on Saturday afternoon. After talking and relaxing, we go over the scriptures we were assigned to read the week before in Sunday School.”

Daisuke Asama, 15, talked about the challenges of being a stake president’s son.

“When my father was set apart,” he said, “I was told that people would look to me as an example. I am trying my best to be worthy. I study the scriptures with my friends. I am trying to save money for a mission. I would like to go right away when I turn 19.”

Kaori Sasaki, 15, told of hearing the Tabernacle Choir sing during its September 1979 visit to Japan. “Coming out of the concert hall afterward, I ran into one of my kindergarten teachers. Only when she was my teacher she wasn’t a member of the Church. But there we met each other as members of the Church. I was so happy it made me cry.”

She said the choir’s visit received a lot of favorable publicity. “On television, they had quite an exposure. I think it helped more people know about the Church, as well as about the choir.”

Mayumi Yoshida, 18, talked about the Tokyo Temple: “For the Saints of Japan, it was a long-cherished dream. It signifies the fact that we can also share the gospel with those in the spirit world. I suppose every girl hopes to be married in the temple. But just because there is a temple built doesn’t mean you can enter it automatically. You can’t prepare for temple marriage in a week. It is important to prepare little by little, day after day.”

Others spoke, too. Rumi Mizuno, 15, said she tries “to make spiritual hours out of the spare evening hours after Church, a time to get close to Heavenly Father and the Savior and know that they are my friends.” Tetsuya Baba, 17, represented a lot of other members when he expressed appreciation for President Kimball and invited him to “come visit us again soon.” And Mitsuko Watashinabe, 14, dreamed of a day when everyone in Japan would live the gospel. “After all,” he said, “Heavenly Father wishes all his children to return to him.”

The next morning, Monday, Tokyo was enshrouded in rain. In the gardens of the Meiji Shrine, which honors the first emperor to experiment with democracy, there was silence everywhere. In the heart of the world’s largest city, where traffic jams are commonplace and commotion is standard, there was only calm and repose.

It was a perfect place to think. And after two days of interviews with LDS youth, it seemed appropriate to draw some conclusions. Japan is a country as old as the centuries, as modern as tomorrow’s dawn. And if Japan is known as the Land of the Rising Sun, then its capital must be the City of the Rising Sun. For it is from this massive conglomeration of towers, parks, ports, business offices, manufacturing plants, and humanity, that the rays of progress and the hope of a bright future have spread throughout Japan. It seemed only natural that part of that light for the future should be the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, first brought to Tokyo by missionaries struggling to clear away the clouds, now shining bright in a city where a temple of God stands tall.

A few weeks ago someone gave me a gift. As I unwrapped the handsome package and discovered its contents, I was overcome with emotion. It was a precious item. I had seen it before in the office of the one who was now giving it to me. I had openly admired it for its unique capabilities and usefulness. It was finely crafted and very expensive. I was deeply touched as I received this generous gift—not because of its monetary value, but because I recognized the great love that the giving of this gift demonstrated to me. Here was an object I knew my benefactor could not afford to purchase for himself or for me. I knew that someone who loved him had bestowed that gift upon him. He was built up and made happy because of that gesture of love toward him. Now in his desire to bring me happiness, to express his love to me, he was sharing one of the finest material possessions he had.
How grateful I am for this example of Christlike love and for the many other gifts of love which I experience daily in my home and in my associations throughout this great church. These experiences lift me up and give me the desire to extend my love to others.

“We should be home tomorrow night at seven.” Mom’s voice on the phone sounded comforting, but Desiree was still worried.
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, yes,” Mom replied. “We shouldn’t have any trouble.”
Desiree shuddered at the word trouble. Ever since Mom and Dad had gone to Illinois, Desiree had been afraid that something bad might happen to them. Now they were coming home, but she still felt afraid.
After hanging up the phone, she tried to concentrate on helping Grandma give her younger brothers and sister a bath. When you’re the oldest child, you have to be a good helper, even if you’re only 11. Sometimes Desiree wished she could be the youngest child in her family and have everyone take care of her, but she knew that Mom and Dad were depending on her to help.
The next day was Sunday. Even though Desiree was tired, she got up early to help her brothers and sister get ready for church. When her brothers made a game of running away from her instead of getting dressed, she missed her mom. When her baby sister threw her breakfast cereal on the floor, Desiree missed Mom even more.
After church, Desiree tried to read her scriptures, but she was too worried to pay attention. She stopped reading to pray that Mom and Dad would come home safely. As she said “amen,” she had a strong feeling that she should keep praying. She wondered why she felt this. Wasn’t one prayer enough? She kept praying, knowing that she was doing the right thing. For some reason, Mom and Dad needed the extra prayers.
At seven o’clock, Mom and Dad still hadn’t come home. Desiree waited anxiously as an hour went by, then two.
Then the phone rang. Desiree ran to answer it, but Grandma got it first. Desiree could tell it was Mom and Dad. Finally Grandma said, “OK, she’s right here,” and handed the phone to Desiree.
“Hello,” she said nervously.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
Hearing Mom’s voice made Desiree miss her even more. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Oh boy, did we ever have a scary trip!” Mom exclaimed. “We were caught in a terrible snowstorm in Colorado. The winding mountain roads were packed with ice and snow. Cars were slipping and sliding all over the road. There were many accidents. Dad and I worried that we wouldn’t make it home safely.”
“Oh no!” Desiree gasped.
“But while I was praying for our safety, the Holy Ghost whispered to me that you were praying for us, too,” Mom said.
Desiree’s eyes grew wide. “That’s right, Mom! I was worried about you, and I prayed. And then I had a feeling that I should keep praying.”
“I’m so thankful you did,” Mom told her. “I know we made it out safely because of those prayers.”
“When will you be home?”
Mom sighed. “I’m sorry, but we traveled so slowly through that snowy mess that we won’t be home until tomorrow morning. We don’t want to rush. We just want to get home safely.”
“Yes,” Desiree agreed. “Take your time.” As she hung up the phone, a warm feeling of peace came over her. She knew that Mom and Dad would come home safely. As she hurried to her room to say a prayer of thanks, she was glad she had obeyed and kept praying.

My brother, Yerko, was 19 when he was hit by a drunk driver. Fortunately, Yerko’s friend had taken a first aid course two weeks before. He kept my brother alive until emergency crews could take him to the hospital.
Most local hospitals have only one neurologist on duty, but when Yerko arrived, a group of neurologists had gathered for a special conference. They all immediately attended to him.
Yerko spent six months in the hospital, three of those months in a coma. While he was there, my mother stayed with him from 7:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. every day. Ward and stake members prayed and fasted for Yerko and gave him priesthood blessings. Our prayers were answered on January 1, 2011, when he woke up. Members continued to visit Yerko and helped us care for him while he recovered in the hospital. They were like ministering angels during this difficult time.
Today, Yerko still has some physical problems, including short-term memory loss. But he walks, and he can carry on a normal conversation. Doctors can’t believe it.
I was in Young Women when Yerko suffered his accident. Every week I recited, “We are daughters of our Heavenly Father, who loves us,” but I didn’t really understand the significance of the words. After the accident, I came to know that I really do have a Father who loves me.
The temple is a manifestation of that love. Yerko and I were sealed to our parents, so I knew that if I lost my brother, I would be with him again. This was a tremendous comfort for my family and me.
Immediately after the accident, when doctors told us that Yerko had only a few hours to live, I earnestly prayed for Heavenly Father to save him. When Yerko survived, I wanted to serve a mission to share with others the miracles we had experienced.
The story of my brother’s recovery was a blessing for many people I taught as a missionary in Peru. As I shared our experiences, especially with people facing difficult situations, their hearts were touched.

I know that God watches over our intellectual endeavors. The surgical testimony of Elder Nelson shows that God will help things happen that far exceed human ability (see Russell M. Nelson, “Sweet Power of Prayer,” Ensign, May 2003, 7–9). Have miracles ceased? No. In fact, Mormon says that miracles are ministered “unto them of strong faith and a firm mind in every form of godliness” (Moroni 7:30; emphasis added).

I have asked for and have received His support in many academic pursuits, often through the unimaginable help of other people. One day, with no appointment, a person walked into my office with the precise skill set I had been praying for, only to tell me she didn’t know why she had come but that she had decided not to stay with another job and wondered if I needed any help.

Last Christmas, facing a crucial year-end deadline after months of work, my staff finally downloaded a huge collection of scanned Church historical documents onto 74 DVD production masters; with those master disks safely in hand, they watched as our linked hard drives crashed irrecoverably only a few hours later.

I cannot believe that these things were mere coincidences.

I know that God will support us as we strive to love Him with our minds.

In one ward, a father was asked to explain why he was so well liked by the youth of the ward and why so many young people liked to go over to his house. The man did not know the answer, but his wife answered for him. She said, “He always asks and remembers the names of his children’s friends. When he sees them again, he calls them by name and takes a personal interest in them, sometimes joking with them, sometimes asking them things about their families and their lives. The young people can tell that he is genuinely interested in them.”

This father did more for his children by being a friend to their friends than he could with a year’s worth of lectures on friendship. People can tell when we are genuinely interested in them. Likewise, they can tell when our attentions to them are insincere or solicitous. Our own attitude toward our children’s friends can be a very important model of how to treat a friend.

May I tell you about an experience another young man faced in school? He was eighteen years of age and I’ll call him Raymond also. This young man found himself in a speech class at a university. He received a scholarship from high school and was anxious to maintain a good grade point average. This somewhat directed him to this supposedly easy class. It wasn’t until the last day had passed for being able to transfer to some other class that the teacher said, “Students, you will be pleased to know that in the last twenty-five years of my teaching I’ve only given five A’s.”

Raymond’s heart sank. He tried transferring from the class but was unable to do so. Through the months he received B’s, B-’s, and once in awhile, a B+, but never an A. He was disheartened. Thirty days from the conclusion of the term the teacher stood up and said to the class, “You each have one last talk to give. It will determine half of your grade. You must (1) select an extremely controversial subject, (2) talk for twenty-five minutes, (3) make an actual defense of the subject the best you can, (4) be prepared to receive a purposeful attack upon you and your subject after you have finished, (5) receive a written critique afterwards from each student in the class.”

A great hush came over the class, mostly from self-doubt and fear. Some thought of talking on communism versus democracy, racial issues, birth control—anything that would be controversial.

Numbers were drawn to determine who would speak first. Raymond drew number nine. As the days went by and he saw the grueling experience each speaker went through, great fear mounted in his heart about what he should do.

He prayed about a topic, as I’m sure you all do concerning your school assignments. He could not seem to settle on anything. He was now two days away from the day he was to give his speech and had nothing in writing. The impression seemed to be constantly the same, “If you’re looking for a controversial subject, choose the Book of Mormon. That’s controversial enough.”

Raymond was fearful, however, because he knew he was the only member of the Church in the class. He also knew that the teacher was an active member of a protestant church. She had clearly made it known, throughout the entire semester as she taught passages from the Bible, that the Bible was the only revelation from God to man.

Raymond struggled with himself. He feared that the whole idea might backfire on him. But he finally decided to do it anyway. As a priest he had served a stake mission the previous summer and knew the old missionary lesson depicting the Bible and Book of Mormon as scripture to the Old and New worlds.

The day of his presentation he announced his subject as the Book of Mormon. A hush fell over the class. He began teaching semi-historically and semi-academically, with the thought to not offend. However, about halfway through, the Spirit of the Lord came upon him and he thought, “I can’t just tell them historically about this book. I don’t care what they think of me, or what happens to my grade. These folks are going to get it. The Book of Mormon is true. They ought to all know it.”

He ended up teaching the lesson pretty much as it was written to be given to investigators, bearing his testimony frequently, and even concluding in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

He then waited for the attack. To his astonishment, not a word was spoken by the students. The teacher tried prompting and persuading them to attack. They would not. No one would. Not one word was spoken. Finally, in frustration, the teacher said, “Be seated, Raymond.”

The written student reviews were all positive. Four or five wrote, “You have almost convinced me of the truth of what you have spoken.” One individual who was particularly critical of the other students’ presentations wrote, “I really would like to know more about your church.”

What great faith it took for this young man to proceed and to teach what he knew was right in the face of almost sure ridicule. You might be interested to know that to his delight, Raymond received an A in that class.

The Prophet Joseph Smith was our neighbor. We lived next to him on the corner of Main and Parley streets. He came to our house quite often for short visits.

One day my older brother, Wallace, and I were on our way to school. It had been raining the previous day and the ground was very muddy, especially along the street on which the building known as Joseph’s brick store was. Wallace and I both got stuck fast in the mud and could not get out. And, childlike, we began to cry. Looking up, I beheld the loving friend of children, the Prophet Joseph, coming toward us. He soon had us on higher and drier ground. Then he stooped down and cleaned the mud from our little heavy-laden shoes, took his handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped our tearstained faces. He spoke kind and cheering words to us and sent us on our way to school rejoicing. You can see why Wallace and I loved him.

I would like to tell you about two young girls I know who were shining examples in sharing the gospel. When our daughter Nellie was almost eight years old, our family lived in Switzerland. Nellie was excited to be baptized. Just before her birthday, we had family home evening with our friend Tina. Tina had been taught by the missionaries. But she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be baptized.
After our lesson we asked Tina to pray. Tina didn’t speak much English, so she prayed in Chinese. We didn’t understand her words, but we felt the Spirit when she prayed.
Later that night Nellie asked if she and Tina could be baptized on the same day. We didn’t know how Tina would feel about that idea. But we all agreed that Nellie should at least call and ask. To our surprise, Tina said yes!
Nellie and Tina were baptized that weekend. Later, Tina told us a wonderful story. She reminded us about her prayer at our family home evening. In her prayer she had asked Heavenly Father to let her know if she should be baptized. When Nellie called later that night, Tina knew that Heavenly Father had heard her prayer.

Photographs by Richard M. Romney and courtesy of Angel Zhong
Watching Angel Zhong gracefully glide through a floor routine, spin perfectly on the uneven bars, and pirouette, leap, flip, and handspring effortlessly on the balance beam, it’s hard to imagine that anyone would have predicted that this 18-year-old champion gymnast would grow up to have poor health.
“I was born in China,” Angel explains. “There was a one-child policy at the time, and girls were not always wanted. When I was born, the doctors said I would have health problems. They recommended that my life be terminated.” Angel’s parents were repulsed by such a suggestion and rushed their firstborn child to the safety of their home. The doctor’s ominous prediction proved false. Angel grew up strong and healthy. When she was six, her family emigrated to Canada. Today, Angel has one younger brother and three younger sisters.
Angel’s family has supported her since before she was born.
When Angel was eight years old, she was introduced to gymnastics. “I had always loved sports. I had tried swimming, soccer, kung fu, skating, and ballet,” she says. But she felt none of those sports were challenging enough to interest her.
At her first gymnastics class, however, she was presented with a variety of feats that seemed physically impossible. Her interest was piqued, and from that point on she was drawn to the gym like a magnet. Angel had finally found a sport that matched both her energy and her athletic abilities. “I wanted to excel in gymnastics,” she says. “I knew God gave me an amazing gift. He gave me a healthy body and the talent to do gymnastics. So, I set my goals high and worked toward them with intensity.”
Two of Angel’s favorite stories in the scriptures are Esther in the Old Testament and Abinadi in the Book of Mormon. “They had so much courage,” she says. “Someday I hope to be like them.” Examine Angel’s life, however, and you’ll find that the choices she has already made reveal that she doesn’t have to wait for someday to be like them. She is already like them.
In the early days of her gymnastics training, Angel decided she would honor the Sabbath day by not practicing, training, or competing on Sundays. In gymnastics, such a commitment is considered at least unconventional if not downright crazy. Many important competitions are scheduled on Sundays, and gymnasts rarely take a day off from training—they’re afraid they’ll lose their edge.
Angel’s parents were proud of her decision to honor the Sabbath day. However, many others in Angel’s life were not so thrilled, particularly her teammates and coaches. They didn’t understand why she would forego important parts of her gymnastics career just to go to church. “You have your whole life to go to church,” they’d say, “but you only have a few years for gymnastics.”
“I often felt persecuted for righteousness’ sake,” Angel says (see Matthew 5:10). People ridiculed her and laughed at her. Her friends talked about her behind her back. Coaches refused to spend as much time training her as they did other athletes. She even changed from a prominent to a less-recognized club at one point to alleviate pressure about practicing and competing on Sundays.
The blessings of keeping the Sabbath day holy certainly weren’t obvious right away, and sometimes it was a struggle for Angel to keep her commitment. “It was heartbreaking for me to see my friends bring their medals and team uniforms to the gym and know that I could have had a chance for those things too,” she says. “I missed many opportunities that would have helped me gain national team status. I even missed a trial to go to the Canada Winter Games, which is like a mini version of the Olympics.”
Angel loves spending time with her friends on Sunday.
Yet, over time Angel has learned to recognize the many ways keeping the Sabbath day holy has benefitted her. For example, because she was active in Church both on Sundays and for weekday Young Women and Mutual activities, she developed friendships she wouldn’t have had otherwise.
“Most of my good friends are from church and my leaders have been wonderfully supportive,” she says. “Young Women was a safe haven for me. It strengthened me spiritually and I look forward to the time I spend with my ward family every week.” Angel has served as Laurel class president, received her Young Women Recognition and Honor Bee, and attended early morning seminary.
As she observes the Sabbath day, Angel also noticed that her physical body benefitted by having a day of rest. Her athletic abilities weren’t diminished by the day off. In fact, during high school, even though she trained one day less than her teammates, she remained as strong in the sport as others.
From the beginning of her gymnastics training, Angel’s dream has been to represent Canada in the Olympics. Even though she didn’t compete on Sundays, she was still able to achieve success in other important competitions held on different days. She was named the Canadian champion on floor exercises and the western Canadian all-around champion. And even though a knee injury eliminated her chance of trying out for the Canadian team for the Rio 2016 Games in Brazil, she still has her sights set on the 2020 games in Tokyo.
Angel also noticed that as she kept the Sabbath day holy, she was able to get more done during the week. For example, many of her teammates struggled to keep up their grades. Angel not only earned straight A’s with a perfect 4.0 GPA, but she also advanced her studies by taking online courses during the summertime. It was those online studies and her stellar GPA that helped Angel achieve one of her other goals—to earn a gymnastics scholarship to Brigham Young University. And she did so a year earlier than planned! At BYU she plans to major in neuroscience with a minor in family studies. Eventually she plans to go to medical school to become a neurosurgeon.
Angel feels grateful for team members who support her standards.
“I’m proud of my identity as a Latter-day Saint,” Angel says. “The Church has blessed my life in every way possible. It has given me the strength, courage, and faith to accomplish my life’s journey but to still have balance in my life.”
She beams when she says, “On days when I feel like giving up, I turn to my Savior. He never fails to comfort me. He always carries me through my trials. Knowing that He and Heavenly Father want me to succeed has given me the inclination and desire to accomplish difficult goals in my life.”
It’s also allowed her to share the example of a balanced life with her three younger sisters. They’re all gymnasts, too. And all of them know that when you keep the Sabbath day holy, there are blessings all around.

Sister Yanet Gómez is the living testimony of how great the love of our Heavenly Father is for each of His children, and she manifests the strongest faith and gratitude of a faithful servant.
Despite living with very particular health conditions, Sister Gómez maintains her active service as Young Women president of the La Vega District, in the Dominican Republic. She affirms that although she has lived through so many experiences that have led her to critical states of health, she could never deny the Lord or get angry with Him, rather she feels fortunate to go through all these situations and considers that the Lord allows her to have them so that she can help others.
Having been diagnosed in 2018 with antiphospholipid syndrome (APS), with congenital thrombophilia and dual pathways, conditions that currently have no cure, being alive has been considered a miracle by medical specialists, who affirm that Yanet is the only person who has survived so long after being diagnosed with this condition.
Science says that the congenital thrombophilia that affects Yanet is an inherited coagulation disorder, due to a reduction in the level of synthesis and/or activity of protein S and characterized by the development of symptoms of recurrent venous thrombosis, with the condition two-way, it causes your body to bleed and clot at the same time.
On the other hand, the antiphospholipid syndrome that she also suffers, occurs when the immune system mistakenly creates antibodies that make the blood more prone to clotting, causing dangerous clots in the legs, kidneys, lungs and brain and, in pregnant women, can lead to miscarriage and fetal death.
Doctors say that they do not know how to explain how she has been able to survive so long, while she, for her part, assures that “the Lord is the one who knows, He is the one who has the purpose in His hands.” Everything has been an experience to help her to understand life more clearly, to value people well, not to hurt anyone and to try to do what she can to help others. She considers that she truly has benefited greatly despite all this.
With great conviction, she says that she has never asked why, and that she does not feel unfortunate or sad about her health condition. In her own words: “God gives the wound and gives the cure. I do not know if the same gospel prepared me since I was a child to understand life in a different way from other people, because that is something that I am trying to understand a little bit, whether what happens to me is for myself or for others. I have seen that it has been reflected much more in other people than in myself.”
Yanet Gómez explains that her family joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints when she was 6 years old and two years later, she was baptized. Since then, she has served in various callings, including as the director couple of the For the Strength of Youth conference (FSY 2016 and 2017), among many others.
Less than three months after she was married, she was hospitalized for a thrombosis in her right leg, and, after several months in the hospital, her leg was in such a bad condition that the doctor determined that the only option to avoid further complications was to amputate it. At that moment, she felt desperate: “I was anguished, not because of myself, but because I felt it was unfair for my husband that when he was newly married, he had to go through having his wife in that situation.”
Asking the doctor for a day to think before the surgery, she wondered what they could do to find out if that was really the Lord’s will. She claims that something told her that she “had forgotten some things,” and she was inspired to ask her husband and her father to call some members of the Church to do a collective fast.
She was greatly surprised to see that many members joined this fast, and what surprised her even more was that she could see that the Lord performed a miracle. The next day, the doctor could not believe the great change in her condition, reversing his decision to do the surgery and allowing her to have her leg today, with no sign of the state it was in at that time.
It has not been the only moment of adversity in her life. She always dreamed of having a large family, but due to her health condition, she had already lost two pregnancies and her prognosis was that she might not be able to have children. However, during the dedication of the Santo Domingo Temple, she and her husband were able to greet Elder Richard G. Scott (1928-2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. Upon learning of their nearly four years of marriage and their difficulty having children, he assured them with a very penetrating and serious look that they would have a child very soon.
Sister Gómez not only had that child, but she also had a second, and although in both cases they were born at six months of gestation, they were born healthy.
For her second pregnancy, the doctor recommended performing an abortion before she was four months along; she flatly refused. After prolonged hospitalizations, the child was born without signs of life and without responding to neonatal resuscitation. But her husband, who is a doctor, “began to breathe on him with his mouth and to give him heart massages and I heard him say, ‘let’s go champion, champion up,’ and after a long time the baby screamed. It was a miracle, it really was a miracle,” said Yanet.
In search of other professional opinions, in November 1999 she traveled to Utah at the invitation of her sister who lives there, to be evaluated by specialists from that state. Surprised, the doctors could not believe that she, with her health conditions, was alive. At the time, the doctors told her that she might not survive three months.
“I kind of made a deal with the Lord at that time, and He granted it to me. I told him, let’s do something Lord, take me when my children no longer need me, when they can fend for themselves, and when they can understand many things in life. It has really been like that, they were young then, and now the oldest is 24 years old and the other is 23, and I’m here,” she says.
“Looking and going back, I feel like it perhaps is one of the purposes for which I came to earth, to help other people to endure certain situations in their life, to carry it in a lighter way, with more love, as perhaps the Lord wants. This year I have really had a lot of time to think about why the Lord allows certain things in our lives.”
With joy, Sister Gómez says that the gospel has helped her in everything in her life and has been the greatest blessing she has ever had. She understands that it is through Him that she has been preparing herself, continuing to learn, practicing, perfecting herself, and edifying herself, affirming that everything she is and the knowledge she has obtained is due to the gospel.
She says that through the movie that the missionaries played in their early days in the Dominican Republic, Man’s Search for Happiness, she understood that one of the purposes in our life is to be happy. She then continued learning in seminary, and she has made happiness a priority in her life. Nothing that comes to her makes her depressed. “I try to be happy as much as I can, if I can, I try to help someone else to be happy too.”

Years ago, when my father was in the evening of his days on this earth, I encountered him reading his patriarchal blessing. He marveled that the old patriarch, John Smith, in the Sugarhouse Ward eighty years before, could have told him in outline what had come to pass in his life. “Everything has been fulfilled in my blessing,” he said, “except one thing.”

“What is that?” I asked.

He replied, “My blessing said that if I sought the will of the Lord I should preside over a stake in Zion.”

I said, “Did the patriarch make a mistake, Dad?”

“No,” he said abruptly. “The General Authorities called me to serve, but I’d just returned from a three-year mission to England. I was an older man. I had a large family that had worked to keep me there. My business partner, O. S. Stapley, had carried the burdens of our business, so I told the Authorities to let me get on my feet financially, and then I would be glad to serve, but I was never called again.”

There was no further comment, but I sensed without any moralizing on my father’s part that he wanted me to hear this story and draw my own conclusions.

Erin, from North Carolina, USA, and her family (left) have always had one goal in mind: to become an eternal family. However, Erin’s father was not a member of the Church.
“Of course my mom and siblings wanted my dad to share in the blessings of the gospel. The gospel of Jesus Christ made us happy, and we wanted Dad to share in that happiness. We also all desperately wanted to be sealed together as a family,” Erin says.
Determined to become a forever family, Erin and her siblings and mother did all they could to keep the commandments and develop strong faith, and they prayed together for their father’s heart to be touched by the gospel.
Though it took several years, Erin’s father was finally baptized and confirmed. Ten days after his baptism, he was able to baptize Erin’s younger brother and sister. Soon their family will reach their goal of being sealed in the temple.

Fifteen-year-old Jacque Gray of Bountiful, Utah, looked like she was going to church. Everyone else in the East-Coast modeling contest looked like they were ready for a major professional fashion show. So how was it that Jacque walked away with the grand prize of $250,000 worth of scholarships and prizes?
Some people think it was the personality, poise, enthusiasm, and confidence Jacque developed by being a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. “Most of the other girls were wearing very sophisticated and expensive evening gowns and looked quite a bit older than their ages. Then Jacque came out in her flowered ‘Sunday School’ dress and just charmed the judges,” said one contest official.
Jacque, at five feet, four inches, couldn’t believe she was picked over 72,000 other contestants in the Kid Search ’92 competition. She was surprised when she first made it to the regionals in Denver and won the opportunity to travel to the national finals in New Jersey. She was just happy to be there and wasn’t at all tense about winning. That probably helped her be relaxed in her interview with the judges.
A New York modeling contract is part of the prize, but Jacque doesn’t plan to let that get in the way of being an active Mia Maid, or of using her scholarship money to study at BYU when she graduates from Bountiful High.