Gospel Story Finder

Paula says, “The standards I always saw my friend live were now mine. My friend’s testimony was now mine.” Not long after, Paula began to feel an intense desire to share with others what she had been given. When she had been a member for one year, she filled out her mission papers, met with her priesthood leaders, and received a call to serve in the Chile Santiago East Mission.
Valeria says, “As I watched my friend prepare to serve her mission, the Spirit touched my heart. I wanted to commit myself to serve God the way she was.”
“May I speak to you?” This time it was Valeria who had pulled Paula aside. “I’ve felt something special as you have been preparing to leave on your mission.”
Paula told her friend the same thing her friend had once told her: “It’s the Spirit telling you what you need to do.”
Valeria’s plans hadn’t included a full-time mission. She wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. “I can’t do it alone,” she told Paula.
“Don’t worry. I’ll help you,” her friend assured.
Later, when Valeria opened her call, she was surprised to be going to the same mission as her friend. Paula began serving in October 2002; Valeria joined her in February 2003.

A little over a year ago, my husband and I visited Nauvoo. As we walked through the Old Pioneer Cemetery searching for the grave of an ancestor, Zina Baker Huntington, I was touched by the peaceful solitude and spirit I felt. I walked through the trees and read the names on the gravestones, many of them children and families. I wept as my heart was turned to our forefathers, many of whom had joined the Church and come to Nauvoo. In my mind I asked many questions: Why did they leave their comfortable homes and families? Why did they suffer persecution, sickness, even death? Why did they sacrifice all that they had to come to this place and build a temple? They hardly had shelter, and yet they were building a temple! Why did they do it? And when the temple was nearly completed, how could they leave it behind? As I sat silently contemplating this scene, the answer came forcefully yet softly to my mind and heart: “We did this for you.”

I close with another example of a family relationship. At a stake conference in the Midwest about 10 years ago, I met a sister who told me that her nonmember husband had been accompanying her to church for 12 years but had never joined the Church. What should she do? she asked. I counseled her to keep doing all the right things and to be patient and kind with her husband.

About a month later she wrote me as follows: “Well, I thought that the 12 years was a good show of patience, but I didn’t know if I was being very kind about it. So, I practiced real hard for over a month, and he got baptized.”

Kindness is powerful, especially in a family setting. Her letter continued, “I am even trying to be kinder now because we are working on a temple sealing this year!”

Six years later she wrote me another letter: “My husband was [just] called and set apart as the bishop [of our ward].”

When I was 11 years old, I lived with my family in the attic of a farmhouse near Frankfurt, Germany. We were refugees in a new place, far away from our previous home. We were very poor.
Because I was a refugee, and because I spoke with an East German accent, other children often made fun of me and called me names that deeply hurt. Of all the times of my youth, I believe this may have been the most discouraging.
Even though I still remember the hurt I felt, I can see now that this was a time of great personal growth. During this time, our family bonded together. I watched and learned from my parents. I admired their determination and optimism. From them I learned that we can overcome adversity when we have faith and courage.
refugees—people who have to flee from their home because of danger
adversity—something that happens that is very hard or challenging
I think back on that 11-year-old boy in Frankfurt, Germany, who worried about his future and felt the lasting sting of unkind remarks. While I would not be eager to relive those days of trial and trouble, the lessons I learned then were a necessary preparation for future opportunity. Now, many years later, I know this for certain: it is often in adversity that we learn those most important lessons that form our character and shape our destiny.

Taylor sat and looked out her bedroom window. She could see her friend Lori’s house and wondered what Lori was doing. Was Lori was looking out her window too? It had been a couple of months since she had been able to go over to Lori’s house.
Taylor hadn’t seen any of her friends for weeks, and she was missing them. She missed walking with them to school, doing school projects together, and playing with them at recess. She missed talking and laughing with her friends. She missed spending time with them.
She remembered back when she’d first heard of the coronavirus. “What’s a pandemic?” she had asked Mom. “Our teachers at school were talking about it and told us to bring our books home in case we don’t come back to school for a while.”
Mom had explained that a pandemic was a sickness that affected the whole world.
The whole world? thought Taylor. It was hard to imagine.
“To try to help people stay as healthy as possible, we have been asked to stay home and keep physical distance for a while,” said Mom.
Physical distance. Back then Taylor hadn’t really understood what that meant. But now, after several months of it, she knew all too well what it meant and what it felt like. Sometimes it just felt really lonely.
Taylor liked spending the extra time with her family, but not seeing other people in person was hard. As she stared out the window, she thought about how much she missed her friends.
“Hey, why the sad face?” Mom asked as she sat by Taylor on her bed.
“I was just thinking about my friends and wondering what they’re doing today.”
Mom put her arm around Taylor and gave her a squeeze. “Well, maybe you could find a way to let them know you’re thinking about them.”
Taylor thought about what Mom had said. That night, when she knelt to pray, she asked Heavenly Father for help. How could she let her friends know she was thinking about them?
The next morning, Taylor woke up excited. She had an idea. “Mom, I know what we can do! Could you help me make some cookies for my friends? We could put a plate of cookies on each of their doorsteps. Then I could come home and call them and tell them to go look outside!”
“I think that’s a great idea!” Mom said. “I’ll start getting the ingredients ready.”
“I’ll be right back,” said Taylor. “There’s something I need to do.” Taylor ran to her bedroom. She knelt down and thanked Heavenly Father for helping her and giving her such a good idea.
It wouldn’t be quite the same as walking to school with her friends or playing with them, but it would be a fun surprise. Taylor could hardly wait to call her friends and tell them a doorstep treat was waiting for them!

I know this is true from experience. Many years ago, as a university student, I met a man who worked for one of the largest computer companies in the world. This was in the early days of computing, and it just so happened that his company had sent him to sell computers to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
As far as I could tell, this salesman had no religious faith. Yet he said with wonder and exasperation, “In this church they were doing what they called ‘genealogy,’ searching for names of people who are dead, trying to identify their ancestors. People, mostly women, were running around between filing cabinets, searching through little cards for information.” If I remember right, he said the ladies were wearing tennis shoes so they could run a little faster. The man went on, “As I saw the magnitude of what they were trying to do, I realized that I had discovered the reason for the invention of computers.”
Well, he was partially right. Computers would be an important part of the future of family history work—just not the computers he was selling. An inspired leader of the Church chose not to buy his computers. The Church was to wait for technology that at that time had not yet even been imagined. But I have learned in the many years since that even the best technology can never be a substitute for revelation from heaven, like the kind that Church leader received. This is a spiritual work, and the Lord directs it through His Holy Spirit.

At the beginning of my mission, I served in a small city in South Korea. One rainy day we had not had a lot of success but wanted to keep working until it was time to go home. My companion and I decided that we would knock on a few more doors.
At one door a woman answered, and my companion started talking to her. As a new missionary, I had a hard time understanding, but after a few minutes she began speaking to us in English. We found out that she was from Chicago, Illinois, USA, and had moved here with her family. Her husband was a preacher for a church that did not have friendly feelings toward our beliefs.
The woman was nice but eager to disprove the Book of Mormon and convince us that our church was incorrect. I stood there with my companion as he tried to answer her difficult questions. My companion tried to testify to her that the Book of Mormon is true and that it could help her, but she insisted on believing that he was incorrect.
After about 30 minutes of discussion at the door, she asked my companion, “Where will we go after this life?” I could tell she was eager to refute my companion’s teachings, as she had before. My companion testified of the plan of salvation and that we can live with our families forever in the celestial kingdom. Before he could continue, she stopped him and asked him to repeat what he had just said about families being together. He again replied with the same response. I felt the Spirit so strongly, and I could see in her eyes that something had touched her deeply too. After that short but powerful testimony, she stopped arguing with us, took a Book of Mormon, and asked us to come back to talk with her and her husband about the Book of Mormon.
I remember walking home with my companion that evening, amazed by the effect of my companion’s testimony. I understood then that a testimony accompanied by the Spirit is the most powerful teaching tool we have. I’ll never forget my companion and his testimony that night. After that experience I decided that, even with my limited ability to speak Korean, I would try to bear my testimony no matter what. As I did, I began to feel the Spirit more and more. I learned that the best communication happens when you teach by the Spirit.

I live in the city of San Salvador in El Salvador, and I love to prepare names for temple ordinances.
The Relief Society sisters in my branch asked if I could learn to index names using the FamilySearch program. I wanted to help. My mother also wanted me to help, so we began learning how to index together.
When I first started, it took me a whole day to index nine names. But now, after working hard and practicing, I can index 300 names in a day.
After finishing my homework, I spend time indexing names. For me, indexing is as fun as playing or watching TV. But I know that it has a greater purpose.
Heavenly Father blessed me with the opportunity to help prepare names for temple ordinances for more than 2,000 of my Salvadorian ancestors in the spirit world.

I spent my early childhood in Pocatello, Idaho. The most significant event at that time was World War II. My first memory in life is of being at the train station in Pocatello one night with my mother and three brothers, watching a troop train with my dad onboard pull out of the city. I felt a powerful sense of loss and sadness.
My dad was away serving in the navy for two years. During that period, my mother was raising four little boys at a time when shoes, tin, gasoline, and anything made of rubber were rationed. Even if you had money, you still needed coupons to buy anything. It was a tough time, yet I think as little boys we didn’t really notice any losses, except for our dad.

Before I met Ben, I was nearing the age of missionary service and had seriously considered serving a full-time mission. But then Ben entered my life, and I knew that Heavenly Father had a different plan for me.
When Ben and I got engaged, relatives who knew about my thoughts to serve a mission asked me about my choice, and I would tell them, “I decided that I wanted to pick my own missionary companion—and stay with him for eternity.”
When you’re married, you and your spouse have the chance to participate in the work of salvation together. Ben and I have found great joy in building a Christ-centered home, studying and living the gospel together, serving in the Church, and inviting others to come unto Christ. As we work together to build the kingdom of God, we grow closer, our love deepens, and life is more fulfilling.
Despite what the world may say, marriage is awesome and is worth making a priority. When you’re married, you have a teammate, you give and receive love, you enjoy life more fully, and you have someone to build the kingdom of God with. All of that brings us great joy, and because we were sealed in the temple, we can have this joy forever! If we keep our covenants, we will be together for eternity and receive the crowning blessings of the priesthood. We “have found in marriage the richest fulfillment of human existence.”4

The river eddied fast and smooth around the raft and was a muddy gray color. The air was cool and smelled of snow. It was early spring, May 20. In Canada that’s a holiday celebrating Queen Victoria’s birthday, and for the LDS Branch in Banff, Alberta Province, it’s time for the annual trip down the Kootenay River.
Erwin Oertli is a member of the Banff Branch. He is also a professional river guide who has a government concession to run raft trips in Canada, and on the same weekend each spring he invites the entire Banff Branch, all interested families, on a three-day raft trip down the Kootenay River. He also invites several nonmember friends.
“It’s the best way I know of to introduce them to the Church,” he explained.
The trip began early Saturday morning. The rafts were unloaded on the river bank, inflated, and lifted into the water. Under Brother Oertli’s direction, metal platforms were placed in the rafts and lashed to the sides. Each family loaded and secured its food, supplies, and equipment onto the platforms. Brother Oertli gave final instructions on safety, the river, and handling the rafts. The river runners then buckled on life jackets, and at last the first raft was launched.
The first section of the river was fast and smooth. This gave the oarsmen a chance to get the feel of their rafts. The river reflected gray and liquid silver in the bright sun.
At noon the rafts were beached and Brother Oertli led the group up an old mining road to a ridge that overlooks the river. Below them the Kootenay snaked its way through the high Rocky Mountains of British Columbia. The tops of the mountains were still iced with snow. The long, ivory fingers of glaciers twisted down the slopes of the higher peaks.
After lunch the rafts were launched again. The river dropped faster now, turning sharply around the high slopes that walled it in. These rough-cut river canyons are bordered with stands of columnlike lodge pole pines. There were several sections of rough, white water, but by evening, with the exception of the girl who fell in, the rafts made it to the campsite with little trouble.
Equipment was unloaded and the rafts were pulled onto the shore and tipped over, allowing the water to drain out. In the blue-gray light of evening, tents were set up near a line of jagged pines that shouldered the beach. Fires were built, and the sounds of laughter and voices mixed with the savory aroma of burning pine and of frying steaks and potatoes.
The following morning a testimony meeting, held in the pines, was directed by Harlen Cahoon, a counselor in the Banff Branch presidency. In the meeting nearly everyone from the branch stood and expressed the strong feeling of closeness they felt for each other and for their Father in Heaven.
Brother Cahoon later explained that the testimony meeting on the trip was something everyone looked forward to every year.
“It’s the highlight of the trip,” he said.
After the meeting some of the families spent the afternoon hiking to a ridge that overlooked the river, while others sat by the river or in the shadows of pines, enjoying a steady flow of conversation. Fires were built with wood gathered the night before, and dutch ovens filled with chicken were buried in hot coals for dinner.
Toward evening, high-piled clouds drifted across the sky and the mountain peaks were fogged with gray-white wisps. Rain fell lightly, cooling the earth and scenting the air with the pleasant smells of wet leaves, pine, and aspen. The sky partially cleared as night came.
A cream-white moon, full and large, rose above the river, flooding it with shimmering, silver light that danced on the waves. A large bonfire was built on the beach. The group gathered around its warmth, watching fiery sparks sail up with the moon and the stars. Their soft singing filled the night air.
The next day, late in the afternoon, it was over. Under a fierce barrage of water fighting, the rafts glided into shore where the river intersected a road. The rafts were pulled onto the bank, deflated, and rolled up. Equipment was loaded into waiting cars and trucks, a prayer of thanks was said, and everyone drove for home feeling warm from the sun and from the closeness they felt for each other. Looking forward to the next trip, they left the Kootenay.

The Young Men, Young Women, and youth leaders of the Rigby Second Ward, Rigby East Idaho Stake, managed to read the entire Book of Mormon in 45 minutes during an activity night!
Well, they did divide it up a bit. Each one took the responsibility for reading several chapters. Everyone took a colored leaf with a reading assignment on it, and on the back they wrote what they had learned from it. The leaves were then put together to make a tree representing the one in Lehi’s dream.
Comments included things like “God will show you miracles after you show him your faith” and “I learned the righteous are blessed and helped by the Lord.”

Upon graduating from high school, I decided to move to Utah, USA, where my two older brothers had settled after returning from their missions. They had started their own construction companies and extended to me the opportunity to work for them while I tried to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.
Both of them tried to persuade me to serve a mission. I had always felt impressed to serve a mission but failed to prepare. Rather than make the necessary preparations to serve a mission, I chose to serve in a different capacity. At the age of 20, I enlisted as a medic in the US Army.
Despite my joining the army, the impression to serve a mission never left. As I entered the last year of my enlistment, I pondered what was next.
“Do I re-enlist? Do I finish my bachelor’s degree? Or do I go out and make the necessary changes in my life, repent, and prepare to serve a mission? Even if I do want to serve, am I too old?” These were some of the questions that crossed my mind.
As I considered whether to serve a mission, I felt strongly that there were people waiting for me to invite them to come unto Christ. This impression was the catalyst for my decision to prepare to serve a mission. I decided that even if I had only a slight chance of being able to serve a mission at my age, I had to try.
I think for most prospective missionaries, the flood of emotion and the power of the Holy Ghost hits them upon opening and reading their mission call. However, for me, that happened the day I was informed that I was still eligible to apply to serve a mission.
As I had repented and prepared myself to serve, I felt an immense gratitude toward my Savior, Jesus Christ, and my Heavenly Father. I felt like They wrapped Their arms around me and said: “We forgive you. We accept your repentance and the changes you have made and who you have become. You are worthy to serve.” I felt triumphant.
Eventually I received my call to serve in the Philippines Quezon City Mission.
Entering the missionary training center at the age of 25 was a unique experience. Most of the other missionaries were much younger. Many had recently graduated from high school or had completed their first year of college. Several were experiencing their first time away from home and family. As for me, I had just finished spending four years in the US Army and was already acclimated to many of the sacrifices and adjustments that the other missionaries were only about to encounter. My experience afforded me the opportunity to focus less on myself and more on extending empathy and encouragement to others. My age and experience also gave me insight into the value of time and provided motivation to serve with focus, intention, and diligence.
My mission will always be one of the most important experiences of—and for—my life. It solidified and sealed my foundation built on the rock of my Redeemer (see Helaman 5:12). I am immensely thankful that I had the opportunity to serve.

While serving as a mission president it was my great privilege and responsibility to interview every missionary as he began his mission. That was always a great experience, but it sometimes gave me insights into the backgrounds of my missionaries that shocked me. One elder told me of his growing up in a small farming community as the son of the town drunkard. When, as a newly called missionary, he boarded the bus to come to Salt Lake City to enter the mission home, his father was there to bid him farewell. He must have been drunk, for his last words to his son were, “Son, you will never amount to a hill of beans.”
As I talked with my missionary, I could sense that he had heard that phrase over and over again throughout his young life: “You will never amount to a hill of beans.” And that choice young man, called by the Lord to be his representative, believed it. I resolved to prove that father wrong by seeing that the missionary had a successful mission. I assigned him to a great first companion and watched his progress with keen interest and daily prayers. And progress he did.
As my release date approached, I made a final tour of the mission to say good-bye to my beloved fellow workers. By this time the young man was a zone leader, a very important calling in the mission field. He conducted that zone conference like a veteran bishop. I saw the deep bond of love that had developed between him and his missionaries. I thought of the scores of converts who had joined the Church through his devoted service and the power of his testimony. At an appropriate moment in the conference I stood beside him with my arm around him and said, with a lump in my throat, “You wouldn’t believe this, but someone once said of this young man that he would never amount to a hill of beans.” He turned and looked me in the eye and responded, “We sure showed him, didn’t we, President?”

Jake stared unhappily at his Primary teacher while she gave the lesson. He knew that she didn’t know that he was upset, because she kept smiling at him. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his teacher. The problem was that he didn’t like the lesson. It was about how we can follow the prophet. The more she taught, the sadder he became. Finally he raised his hand and asked, “Why do they always want us to do such hard things?”
Sister Roper looked confused. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
Jake sighed deeply. How could he explain it? “I just don’t know why we have to do so many hard things. How are we supposed to follow the prophet? We’re not big enough yet.”
“Well, yes, you are,” Sister Roper told him. “Jesus even said that all of us should try to be like little children, so you must be able to do things right.”
Jake looked at the other children in the class. They didn’t seem to know what he meant, either. “But it’s just too hard to remember everything,” Jake explained. “And I can’t do what older people do.”
Sister Roper thought for a minute, then said, “I think I know what you mean, Jake. And if you listen really closely, I’ll tell you a story that might help.”
Jake and the other children shuffled in their seats for a moment until they were comfortable. They liked to hear Sister Roper’s stories.
“Is it a true story?” Jake asked.
Sister Roper nodded. “A few years ago, when my son Micah was your age, we had a similar lesson in Sharing Time. We were talking about how we can follow Heavenly Father. The counselor in the Primary presidency had a big banner in front of the Primary room. She told the children to raise their hands when they thought of a way to follow Heavenly Father. Then she would write their answers on the banner.
“The children began giving wonderful answers, like ‘Read your scriptures’ and ‘Say your prayers’ and ‘Be a good example.’ Micah raised his hand, and when the counselor called on him, he said, ‘Brush your teeth.’”
Jake laughed with the other children in the class. “How can that show that you’re following Heavenly Father?” he asked.
Sister Roper was laughing, too. “You know, I think we all wondered that. I thought that Micah hadn’t been paying attention. Poor Micah! Everyone was laughing, and I could tell that he was really embarrassed. He looked like he was ready to cry. I know that he was sorry that he had raised his hand.”
“Did everyone stop laughing then?” Lisa asked.
“Well,” Sister Roper went on, “there were still a few snickers, but almost everyone stopped. The great lesson that I learned that day came when the counselor said, ‘Very good, Micah. We do show Heavenly Father that we love Him when we take care of the bodies that He has blessed us with. I’m glad you thought of that.’
“No one was laughing while she wrote ‘Brush your teeth’ on the banner. I looked at Micah, and he was happily beaming. I was glad the counselor had helped both him and the rest of us see that his answer really was correct.”
“But does that really show Heavenly Father that we love Him?” Jake asked.
“Absolutely,” Sister Roper replied. “That’s what I learned that day. We don’t have to make following Heavenly Father by following His prophet’s counsel something hard. It’s as simple as brushing our teeth. We just obey and do what’s right. They don’t ask us to do anything that we can’t do. It’s really simple—just obey.”
“But what if he asks us to do something hard?” Jake was still worried.
Sister Roper cocked her head to one side as she carefully thought how to answer. “If you study it over in your mind, I think you’ll find that there isn’t anything really hard that we are asked to do. Is it too hard to say nice things? Or go to church? Or pay our tithing?”
Jake thought for a minute, then shook his head.
“I think you’re right,” Sister Roper said and smiled. “Following the prophet is like brushing our teeth in another way, too—we need to remember to do it.”
Jake sighed happily. He felt as if a heavy backpack had been lifted off his shoulders. He was grateful to learn that following the prophet wasn’t a problem. “Teacher?” Jake raised his hand as another thought came to his mind.
“Yes, Jake?”
“Does that mean we follow the prophet in lots of little ways? You know, doing little things like picking up a pencil someone drops, or answering the telephone politely, or waving at our neighbor?”
“That’s a great question, Jake,” Sister Roper told him. “What do you think?”
Jake thought for a minute, then nodded. “I think ‘yes.’”
“And I think,” Sister Roper concluded, “that if we start with little things and keep working and working at it, whatever the prophet asks us to do will be simple. Even if we are asked to leave our homes and move to the desert, like the early Saints who went to the Salt Lake Valley in Utah, we can do it. If we follow the prophet with the little things and take a step at a time, we can always do it.”
Most of us think that the price of discipleship is too costly and too burdensome. … But [it] is not as heavy as it appears to be because we acquire through obedience a much greater strength to carry it:
“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
“Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
“For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28–30).
What is the cost of discipleship? It is primarily obedience. … It is a price worth paying, considering that the great promise of the Savior is for peace in this life and eternal life in the life to come. It is a price we cannot afford not to pay.President James E. Faust, Second Counselor in the First Presidency (Ensign, April 1999, page 4.)

Another time I was in a distant city. After a conference we were ordaining and setting apart leaders. As we concluded, the stake president asked, “Can we ordain a young man to be an elder who is leaving for the mission field?” The answer, of course, was yes.

As the young man came forward, he motioned for three brethren to follow and stand in for his ordination.

I noticed on the back row a carbon copy of this boy, and I asked, “Is that your father?”

The young man said, “Yes.”

I said, “Your father will ordain you.”

And he protested, “But I’ve already asked another brother to ordain me.”

And I said, “Young man, your father will ordain you, and you’ll live to thank the Lord for this day.”

Then the father came forward.

Thank goodness he was an elder. Had he not been, he soon could have been! In the military they would call that a battlefield commission. Sometimes such things are done in the Church.

The father did not know how to ordain his son. I put my arm around him and coached him through the ordinance. When he was finished, the young man was an elder. Then something wonderful happened. Completely changed, the father and son embraced. It was obvious that had never happened before.

The father, through his tears, said, “I didn’t get to ordain my other boys.”

Think how much more was accomplished than if another had ordained him, even an Apostle.

“For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat” (Matthew 25:35).
The Yellowmans say that the dinners are an extension of a family tradition of providing food to others. Tom explains: “It started one night when we took our children out for hamburgers. We didn’t have a lot of money, so it was a special treat. When we got there, we saw some homeless people in the parking lot. We bought a couple of extra meals and let the kids hand them the food.”
After that, each Christmas season the family prepared small bags of food to give to people without a home. Extended family members joined in, so did friends, and soon they were distributing 75 to 100 bags in Farmington and Shiprock.
“When my kids and their cousins hand out these bags,” Tom says, “they tell people how grateful they are to be able to give them food.”
“One man even asked us to pray with him,” says Toma, Tom and Gina’s 22-year-old son. “That made the experience particularly meaningful to me.”

“I liked getting my hands dirty and working alongside all the other girls,” said Brooke Matsen of the Farmington Ninth Ward. She was pitching in with the other young men and women of the ward as they helped clear, plow, cultivate, and plant a large neighborhood garden. The garden provides not only fresh produce but also opportunities for learning and service.
The youth cleared branches and pulled stumps from the area prior to plowing. Then they worked together in planting 160 tomato plants, cutting and planting seed potatoes, corn, beans, and peppers. Unfortunately, as the plants flourished, so did the weeds. Families and youth were assigned to keep rows weeded. In the end everyone helped with the harvest and learned how to bottle and preserve the food.
“It was fun to work with everyone,” said Kambria Johnson. “We got closer and there were good bonding experiences. It’s good to know the garden would benefit some in the ward.”

I usually take one of the local freeways to work. It’s the quickest and easiest way to get there. I try to leave early enough in the morning to miss the heavy traffic, when things slow down and accidents can happen.
One morning, however, I got out of the house later than usual and ended up in congested traffic. As I merged onto the freeway, I thought about my scripture study that morning. I had had the impression that I focus too much on worldly things and not enough on spiritual things. As I drove to work, I thought about how I could be more attentive to spiritual things throughout the day.
Then I noticed a message on one of the large electronic signs over the freeway that alert drivers of accidents or road conditions. As I got closer, I read, “Crash ahead at Mesa Drive—center lane blocked.” I didn’t want to be inconvenienced by having to get off the freeway, so I wondered how long I could stay on the freeway before I had to exit.
Then another thought came to my mind: If I ignored the sign, could I be putting myself in a situation that would be dangerous? Was I ignoring a warning just because I didn’t want my schedule disrupted? Clearly, I was inclined to ignore warnings of my physical safety; how often I had pushed aside promptings for my spiritual safety?
As I pondered about how to be more attentive to the Spirit, I realized that Heavenly Father probably sends me many messages throughout the day. I wondered how many times I had missed His messages because I wasn’t listening for spiritual promptings. I committed to do better.
I checked the traffic, changed lanes, and took the next exit. By using the city roads to get to work, I was able to avoid all the hazards and dangers of staying on the freeway as the accident was cleaned up.
I know that the Lord loves me enough to send me His messages. I simply need to be in tune with the spiritual promptings He sends me.

A few years ago my father had a serious operation and spent several weeks in the hospital. This was during the winter months. My sons and I had made several trips down to my parents’ home to keep the snow cleared from the driveway and walk, but one day while I was working and my sons were in school, we had a very heavy snowfall. My mother was trying to clear the walks when a young university student came by, laid his books down, gently took the shovel from her, and cleared all the walks and driveway. As my mother thanked him he said, “That’s all right. I am away from home going to school. Maybe someone else’s son will be there to help my mother.”
As my mother told me how this young man had helped her, I remembered the words from my childhood: “God bless you, my son. I pray that some young man will be there to help your mother.”
And he was.