Gospel Story Finder

I first finished Personal Progress right before the new value, Virtue, came out. My Young Women leaders encouraged me to wait to get my Young Womanhood Recognition until I completed the new value, so I agreed to do so. I had no idea what was in store for me. We received the new booklet, I completed the Virtue experiences, and then I saw the Virtue project: read the entire Book of Mormon. I hate to admit it, but I had never read the Book of Mormon cover to cover. This was my new challenge for the year.
Over the year, I read the Book of Mormon from beginning to end. When I completed my reading, my testimony had grown so much! The stories came alive, and reading the scriptures gave me a lot of spiritual advice. I encourage everyone to read it, discover for yourself the blessings, and help your testimony grow. It will change your life. Even if you just read for a set number of minutes every day, you will learn so much. After receiving my Young Womanhood Recognition, I decided I would wear my necklace every day to remind myself of the promises and covenants I have made with Heavenly Father and the many things I learned from reading the Book of Mormon. I am so thankful that my Young Women leaders encouraged me to complete the Virtue value. I hope you will take the challenge to read the Book of Mormon and let it touch your life.

Hannah reached under the desk for her friend Ellie’s note, carefully watching to make sure the teacher wouldn’t see her. She felt a little guilty passing notes during class, but Mr. Jones had been lecturing for a while now, and she was bored.
Hannah opened the note and read it. She and Ellie had been writing back and forth about Maura, a girl in their class who they thought was stuck-up. “Maura thinks she’s so great,” Ellie had written. “I wish she would …”
Suddenly, Mr. Jones stopped talking. “A note?” he asked. He walked to Hannah’s desk and took the note out of her hands. Then to Hannah’s horror, Mr. Jones read the note to the class. He left out Maura’s name, but he read all of the mean things Ellie and Hannah had written about her.
Hannah looked helplessly at Ellie. Finally, the bell rang and Mr. Jones gave the note back to Hannah, asking to see her at lunchtime. Hannah felt terrible.
A tap on her shoulder startled her, and she turned around. It was Maura.
“That note was about me, wasn’t it?” Maura said, her eyes filling with tears. Then, without waiting for an answer, she walked down the hall.
Hannah felt sick to her stomach. She could tell that Ellie felt bad too. She went to the cafeteria and slowly ate her lunch, feeling worse all the time. She couldn’t get Maura’s sad face out of her mind.
Hannah trudged back to her classroom and sat down at her desk.
“Hannah, I shouldn’t have read that note out loud, and I’m sorry,” Mr. Jones said. “I know you think Maura is stuck-up, but I think if you got to know her, you would find out that she is a nice person. Maybe you could even become friends.”
Hannah doubted that they would become friends after what had just happened.
The next day, Hannah apologized to Maura, and the sick feeling in her stomach went away. She tried not to gossip about classmates anymore with Ellie or any of her friends. Hannah only wished that the sad look in Maura’s eyes would go away and that Maura could forgive her.
As the school year ended, Hannah and Ellie got their yearbooks and had their friends write in them. When Hannah got to Maura, she handed her the yearbook timidly, afraid that Maura would refuse it. But Maura took the book without saying anything.
When Hannah got home from school, she opened her yearbook and turned to Maura’s note.
Hannah,
I’m sorry we didn’t get along very well this year. I hope we can become better friends next year.
Love,
Maura
Hannah smiled as she read it. She was glad Maura had forgiven her, and she knew she could be a better friend.

Boy Scouts from the Elk Grove First and Third wards of the Sacramento California South Stake organized an ice cave freeze-out, an event they hope to hold annually. The winter camp was held at the 7,000-foot level on Echo Summit between Sacramento and South Lake Tahoe.
The group backpacked two miles on snowshoes to the main campsite. There they were taught basic snow survival techniques and how to build several kinds of snow shelters by experienced leaders. These shelters served as sleeping places for the Scouts during the nights when temperatures dropped to 15°F.
The Scouts were surprised to find very little spare time for fun or horseplay as nearly every available minute was spent in preparing and serving food, building snow shelters, learning survival techniques, or just staying warm by the fire. The Scouts found that the Boy Scout motto, “Be Prepared,” is more than just a motto. They found that extensive planning and preparation were essential for a comfortable snow camping experience.

Elder Soares: I had a brother two years older than me who had a hearing problem. He had a lot of difficulty communicating, and I can remember how I essentially became his companion, helping him to do things and communicate with people. I had to learn to communicate with sign language at church. For example, he once received an assignment to give a talk in church. However, he wasn’t able to speak. But I sat with him, and I, speaking to him with signs, helped him to write a talk. In sacrament meeting, he stood beside me at the pulpit as I read the talk that he prepared.

Once he took me camping, just the two of us. During the night there was this heavy thunder storm. It didn’t last long, but my sleeping bag got wet. His was dry because he’d remembered to put down a ground cloth. He told me to do it too when we set up camp, but I said it was too much bother. The reason I said that was because the sky was clear then.

Well, after the storm, and my sleeping bag was wet, he didn’t get mad and tell me it was my fault anyway for not putting down a ground cloth. Instead he got out of his sleeping bag and asked me to get in it instead. I asked him what he was going to do, and he said he thought he’d go build a fire and think.

I let him do it because I was too young to realize that it was only two thirty in the morning and nobody in their right mind goes out and sits by a fire for four hours in the middle of the night to think.

Thanks for the idea of sharing a subscription to the New Era. My friends were all delighted to have the subscription. One of my friends is even taking the missionary lessons now and is thinking of joining the Church. I can still remember when he received his first issue, which had a lot about the temples in it. After he had finished reading it, he came running over to my house, with his face glowing, and said “That’s where I want to be married—in the temple!” I’m not a member yet myself. It’s been a two-year wait for me, and I still have to wait another six months. Thanks for this wonderful missionary tool and especially for the article “Every Nonmember a Missionary.” I still remember my next door neighbor saying to me, “Here you are going around telling everybody about the Church, and you’re not even a member yet!” He is now planning to go on a mission when he’s 19. I have been fortunate to have been able to set a good example to many of my friends. As a matter of fact, I now have the opportunity to give a report in my California history class on the Mormon influence in California. It’s not going to be easy to limit myself to historical facts and not try to convert the whole class.
Adriana Lillian BrownMenlo Park, California

While I waited for the outward sign that never came, my mind and heart were full of poignant memories. I remembered how proud Dad and I had both been on the day when we met with our priesthood leaders in the stake president’s office. I remembered the strength I felt in the hands as they joined in a circle around me as my father ordained me an elder after the order of Melchizedek.
“Well, Elder Rick,” they said to me afterward as they enthusiastically shook my hand, “we know that you are going to be a terrific missionary.”
As I shook my father’s hand and looked into his misty eyes, I knew that he was also sure that I would be successful.
That memory faded and was replaced with the “D” discussion I had preprogrammed myself to study. The details of the plan of salvation ran through my mind as the tears slowly dried on my cheeks.
I reviewed the premortal existence and the council of heaven and realized for the first time that my father must have been there. I knew my dad had been born to receive a body, like everybody else, and had obeyed the Lord’s commandments to the best of his ability like we all must. He was always the most selfless man I had ever known, and even though he wasn’t the most verbal individual, we always knew by the things he did that he loved Mom and us more than he could say.
Nobody enjoyed being home with his family more than my dad. About the only thing Dad would let take him away from his family was the gospel he loved so much. Few people had served in as many different capacities in the Church as my dad. I knew that he had successfully honored his first and second estates, and could surely expect a promising future with our Heavenly Father.
I tried to imagine my dad’s reunion with his earthly parents and little sister who had died over 50 years ago. It wasn’t hard to picture Uncle Lew and Uncle Vic also waiting with open arms to welcome Dad to his next field of labor, almost like a transfer in the mission field.
These thoughts brought a smile to my heart as I continued to gaze out that tiny kitchen window. I knew I didn’t have to worry about what was in store for my dad.
What about Mom, though? They had been married nearly 40 years. What would she do without him?
My stomach tightened nervously until I remembered that this was the week of the Klomp family reunion in Panaca, Nevada. All four of my older brothers and sisters and their families would be there with Mom to help her through this difficult time. She would be comforted by her children as she so often had comforted each of us. It seemed terribly fair somehow. I realized also that Mom was not a weak, ignorant, or faithless woman. She had helped me gain a better understanding of and love for the gospel of Jesus Christ and would certainly take strength from that same fountain of truth.
I don’t know how long I stood at that window, but I do remember being stiff as my eyelids began to droop again with fatigue. I stretched, still staring out the window, hoping to see something, anything which would show me that everything was all right. It wasn’t until later that I realized that my “sign” had come in the form of the Spirit speaking peace to my heart, calming my fears, and warming me with the love of a faraway family and a God who was very near.
When I finally pulled myself away from the window, I wondered whether or not I should return home, leaving my mission only half served. I remembered scriptures about putting your hand to the plow and then turning away or loving father and mother more than the Savior. I felt confident that Dad would have wanted me to stay and finish the work I had been given to do, but decided that if Mom needed me, I would go home to help her.
I kept the whole thing pretty much to myself the next day and was determined not to let it affect the work. Actually it still didn’t seem real. It seemed like a hazy dream. But I still made plans to make the phone call to my family.
After a busy morning and a quick lunch, we pedaled to the post office so I could make the call. I waited anxiously in the long-distance line. When my turn finally came, I gave the man behind the desk the right phone number, and he directed me to the appropriate plexiglass phone booth in the center of the building.
“Hello, Nancy, can you hear me?” I said when the connection was made.
“Yes, Rick. I’m so glad you were able to call. We’re all here taking good care of Mama and we want you to know that everything is fine. She wants you to do what you think is right.”
After speaking to Mom and some of the rest of the family and hearing that Dad had seemed really fulfilled and happy to have almost all his family around before he died, I knew that I wasn’t really needed at home. I was needed in Germany to do the work a prophet of God had assigned me to do. The still, small voice comforted me, and I was able to complete the second half of my mission in a way that honored my beliefs, my family, and most of all, my dad. He had endured, faithful to the end, and taught me to do the same. Did he ever quit or give up before he finished an assignment? Not my dad!

As I lay in my bed that night, I watched each of my sisters and brothers in turn be taken down the stairs. I was the oldest child at home that year since my older sister had left on her mission. Below me in the living room, I heard the song over and over as each child was sung to. Then it was my turn. I followed Papa down the stairs into the living room. He sat in the big chair and opened his arms.

“Do you still want me to sit on your lap?” I asked.

“Of course,” he smiled. Gratefully, I climbed onto his lap and pulled my knees up to my chin, snuggling up next to him.

“This is my last night to be rocked,” I said.

“I know,” came his quiet reply.

As the first few strains of the familiar tune began in the tape recorder next to us, I thought back to all the years I had heard this song on Christmas Eve. Suddenly something in me wanted to stay. I was so warm and comfortable, and I had no idea what the future months and years would hold. I started to cry.

Don’t let this song end, I thought.

Papa began to sing.

Heaven bless you little one while you’re fast asleep.
You’ll awake to dancing toys,
Candy canes, Christmas joys.
And I pray your whole life through,
Angels will watch over you,
Loving you the way I do,
My little one, sleep well.

Each year before this night, the song had reminded me of Christmas and what the next morning would bring. But on this last time, I knew Papa was singing about life and the years ahead—not toys that would break or wear out, but eternal joys I would find on my journey through life, joys I was not even aware of now. On this night I heard the emotion of his voice as he sang for angels to watch over me, not just for tonight but for tomorrow night and all the nights that would follow when he wouldn’t be there.

I let my tears flow, as the last strains of music faded away. Papa and I watched the lights of the tree in the darkness, and we rocked and rocked, long after the song had ended.

As we rocked, I thought what our last night in heaven must have been like, the night before each of us came to earth to be born. Did Heavenly Father hold us close and tell us of the joys and dancing toys which we would find on the morrow? Did we cry and wish we could stay with him forever, even though we knew earth life would bring us more joys than we could imagine? He must have held us long after his song to us had ended, asking that angels would watch over us in our earthly journey, that our years away from him would be filled with happiness and would eventually lead us back to his presence.

I found comfort as I thought of my Heavenly Father that night, while my earthly father rocked me. Even though Papa couldn’t be there every day in the future to help me with each struggle I would face, my Father in Heaven would be there. No matter what the years ahead would bring, I would not only have the support of an earthly father but of my Heavenly Father. And he would guide my paths and bring me home for good. That night I felt he too was singing, “Loving you the way I do, my little one, sleep well.”

Troy Jackson, Jaren Hope, and Andrew Allan are bearers of the Aaronic Priesthood who were called by an inspired bishop to team teach a family history class in their ward. These young men are representative of so many of you in their eagerness to learn and desire to serve.

Troy stated, “I used to come to church and just sit there, but now I realize that I need to go home and do something. We can all do family history.”

Jaren reported that as he learned more about family history, he realized “that these were not just names but real people. I became more and more excited about taking the names to the temple.”

And Andrew commented, “I have taken to family history with a love and vigor I did not know I could muster. As I prepared each week to teach, I was often nudged by the Holy Spirit to act and try some of the methods taught in the lesson. Before, family history was a scary thing. But aided by the Spirit, I was able to step up to my calling and help many people in our ward.”

Eighty-eight-year-old Brother Thomas Coelho is a good example of one who saw with his heart essential things. He was a faithful member of our high council in Paysandú, Uruguay. Prior to joining the Church, he had an accident while riding his motorcycle. While he was lying on the ground unable to stand, two of our missionaries helped him stand up and return to his home. He said that he felt something special when the missionaries came to his rescue. Later he experienced strong feelings again when the missionaries taught him. The impact of those feelings was such that he read the Book of Mormon from cover to cover in just a few days. He was baptized and served tirelessly from that day forward. I remember him riding his motorcycle up and down the streets of our city, even in the cold and rainy winters, to bring others to church so they could feel, see, and know of a surety as he did.

As Dillon worked with the sound crew to record the songs, he struggled with one note. “I couldn’t hit it,” he says. “We rehearsed for hours.”
Finally, exhausted and discouraged, he went home that night, knowing that the next morning he’d have to record the song.
“I went straight to my room and prayed to my Heavenly Father to help me,” he says.
All he could think about was how important the soundtrack would be to the 50,000 members of the Church in Tonga, as well as thousands of others who speak Tongan around the world.
“It was one of the longest nights of my life,” he says.
After a long night of prayer and a little bit of sleep, Dillon walked into the recording studio and hit the note.
“Hallelujah,” he remembers saying. “I was happy.”

I didn’t have a lot of friends when I was 15. Or at least that’s the way it seemed. I really wanted to fit in, but most of the time I felt like an outsider.
One warm Sunday morning I shoved my hands in my pockets, ducked my head, and started walking to sacrament meeting. I heard a car behind me but didn’t pay any attention until it pulled up next to me at the curb. It was a classy, bright red outfit. I was surprised that I knew the driver. It was a guy I’ll call Tom.
I’d known Tom most of my life. He was a natural leader. His parents were active, and he usually went to church. We didn’t hang around together at school because Tom ran with a crowd that didn’t think much of me. Tom was athletic, good looking, and popular. I was surprised that he bothered to stop.
“Hey,” Tom said, “where are you going?”
“To church,” I answered awkwardly. “Where did you get the wheels?”
“It belongs to my cousin,” Tom smiled, patting the steering wheel. “He lets me use it.”
I stepped back for a better look. The red car was sleek and shiny, and the engine rumbled like an earthquake. There was music playing that sounded like a live band in the back seat. I hoped Mom would let me drive her rusty clunker when I got my license, but “the green box” was as ugly as a soup can. I shook my head and sighed hopelessly.
“Do you want to go for a ride?” Tom offered.
I was stunned. “Sure,” I said, “but I can’t be gone very long. I’ve got to set up the sacrament.”
“Let someone else do it,” Tom sneered.
I believed my priesthood responsibilities were important, but here was a chance to spend time with someone popular. No one would care if I was late, and I was sure the sacrament would get done without me.
“All right,” I agreed. “Where are we going?”
Tom smiled. “I promised the girls a ride. Jump in. We’ll find them and look up some fun.”
When I realized the offer was more than just a ride around the block, my stomach flopped and my mouth filled with cotton. A thousand thoughts filled my head. This could be my big chance! The girls Tom knew were popular and pretty. If I showed up with him, there was a chance they might like me. It could mean a whole new image. And yet …
Tom’s face clouded over. “Are you coming?” he demanded.
I tried to answer, but the noise I made sounded like I was strangling. I couldn’t seem to move my feet.
“I guess you’re scared,” he concluded as he jammed the car into gear. “Well, it won’t take me long to find someone else.”
Tom punched the pedal and took off like a shot, leaving a patch of rubber to remind me what a fool I was. I stood and stared after him with my mouth open.
“He’s right,” I told myself miserably. “I am scared.” I felt terrible. “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” I muttered, kicking the curb so hard my toes hurt.
I went to church, but I couldn’t pay attention to the meetings. I was sure that Tom would never ask me to ride with him again (I was right) and that he would tell everyone what a geek I was (right again).
After the meetings I went straight to my bedroom and beat up my pillow. Church had cost me a chance to be with Tom and his cool friends. I felt sick about it and called myself names until I couldn’t think of any more. Finally I went to sleep just to get away from myself.

Once you turn 16, group dating is a great way to build friendships. You’ll want to keep in mind a few things. Follow the example below to see what outcomes your decisions may have.
Start
You worked up the nerve to ask someone out. Great job. Your date asks, “Who else is coming?” You answer:
John and Suzy. (Go to #2.)
No one. (Go to #3.)
Good answer. Group dating is important in your teenage years. What do you have planned for the date?
Go to a movie. (Go to #4.)
Go on a hike. (Go to #5.)
It’s time to rethink this one (see For the Strength of Youth [2011], 4). Your date says she won’t go without a group. What do you do?
Make it a group date instead. (Go to #2.)
Stay home.
A nice idea, but maybe not the best option. You enjoyed the show, but you sat next to each other for two hours without saying a word. What do you do next?
Go home; you’re tired. (Go to #6.)
Make a dessert. (Go to #7.)
Sounds fun! And it will give you lots of opportunities to get to know one another. Did you tell your date what the plan is?
Of course! (Go to #8.)
Whoops! (Go to #9.)
You take your date home, and she thanks you for the nice time. It’s too bad you didn’t really get to know her better instead of just watching a movie.
The group gets ice cream at someone’s home. The dessert is good, and you enjoy talking with everyone. It’s almost curfew. What do you do?
Take your date home. (Go to #10.)
Stay a little longer—you’re having fun. (Go to #11.)
You enjoyed the hike and really got to know everyone in the group. What now?
Make a dessert. (Go to #7.)
Take your date home. (Go to #10.)
Your date wasn’t prepared for hiking, so you wait inside the door for a few minutes while she changes. You’re a little late in meeting up with the group, so the hike ends up shorter than you’d planned, but it’s still fun. What now?
Make a dessert. (Go to #7.)
Take your date home. (Go to #10.)
Your date says she had a great time, thanks you for the evening, and says, “We should do that again sometime!” You smile all the way home.
When you return home after curfew, you and your date both get grounded. Even though you had fun, your date’s dad won’t let you go out again.

After the boxes were prepared to go again, they were finally ready to be given to the coordinators at the hospice office, which was just down the street from the business where the boxes were being stored. But this time the youth decided that loading piles of boxes into a car for transport wasn’t such a good idea. After all, that was what had damaged many of the wrapping jobs the first time around. They decided that since the boxes had such a short way to travel, they would form a human chain from the location where the boxes were being stored to where they needed to go.

There aren’t too many LDS youth in West Plains, so they invited Primary children, adult leaders, and anyone else who wanted to help. They donned elves’ caps and spread out right through the heart of downtown West Plains. The boxes were handed from one person to another, and soon they were all safely at their destination, ready to be filled with food from the West Plains Ward and other community groups.

The group attracted a bit of attention from passersby, who were invited to join in. They didn’t have many takers, but several people did find out where they could donate food to go inside the boxes.

“Doing a project like this really makes you feel good,” says Heather Camier, a Beehive. “It’s great to work together as a group for a good cause. It’s the best this time of year; it really makes it feel like Christmas.”

One man who had committed himself to do everything he could to share the gospel with others walked out of his office one day and saw a man running down the hall. He learned this man had stapled his finger. He reached into his big pocket, pulled out Merthiolate and a Band-Aid, and dressed the wound. The shocked individual asked in amazement why he did this. He responded: “I am a Mormon, and Mormons do these things.” This man was prepared to help another whenever possible.

Let me share with you the true account of one sister, Ellen Yates from Grantsville, Utah. Early in October, 10 years ago, she kissed her husband, Leon, good-bye as he left to go to work in Salt Lake City. This would be the last time she would see Leon alive. He had a collision with a young man 20 years of age who was late for his first job and had tried to pass a slower vehicle, resulting in a head-on collision that killed them both instantly. Sister Yates said that after two compassionate highway patrolmen told her the news, she plunged into shock and grief.
She records, “As I tried to look ahead in life, all I could see was darkness and pain.” It turned out that her husband’s best friend was the bishop of the young man’s ward. The bishop called Sister Yates and told her that the young man’s mother, Jolayne Willmore, wanted to talk with her. She remembers “being shocked because I was so centered on my grief and pain that I had not even thought about the young man and his family. I suddenly realized that here was a mother who was in as much or more pain than I was. I quickly gave my permission … for a visit.”
When Brother and Sister Willmore arrived, they expressed their great sorrow that their son was responsible for Leon’s death and presented her with a picture of the Savior holding a little girl in His arms. Sister Yates says, “When times become too hard to bear, I look at this picture and remember that Christ knows me personally. He knows my loneliness and my trials.” One scripture that comforts Sister Yates is “Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you.”
Each October Sister Yates and Sister Willmore (both of whom are here together in the Conference Center today) go to the temple together and offer thanks for the Atonement of Jesus Christ, for the plan of salvation, for eternal families, and for the covenants that bind together husbands and wives and families on both sides of the veil. Sister Yates concludes, “Through this trial, I have felt the love of my Father in Heaven and my Savior in greater abundance than I had ever felt before.” She testifies that “there is no grief, no pain, no sickness so great that the Atonement of Christ and the love of Christ cannot heal.” What a wonderful example of love and forgiveness these two sisters have demonstrated. It has allowed the Atonement of Jesus Christ to be efficacious in their lives.

In the Bamburi Branch of the Kenya Nairobi Mission, Relief Society sisters donated the money they would have spent on an activity and instead purchased kitchen utensils and other items the branch needed. After thoroughly cleaning the local meetinghouse, the sisters of the ward assembled for a time of reflection on the creation of Relief Society in 1842, using and discussing resources from Daughters in My Kingdom: The History and Work of Relief Society.
“The thought of being part of this worldwide organization of Relief Society is special,” said Irene Kioi, second counselor in the Relief Society presidency. “It gives me the assurance that [Relief Society] is ordained of God and not men.”

“Life’s not fair!” exclaimed Amy, twisting and plaiting her long auburn hair.
Sam, who’d been around since Sunbeam days, raised his eyebrows. They were the last youth in the foyer waiting for lifts home from seminary.
She turned to the notice board, jabbing a finger at a dazzling poster. “‘New Year’s Social,’ it says.” She jabbed again. “‘Bring a date,’ it says. How am I supposed to do that? No one ever asks me. There’s just nobody around this place.”
She slumped gloomily onto the bench, contemplating a dateless Christmas, dateless New Year, dateless forever.
“Thanks a lot.” Sam pulled himself to full frame, short, lean, and topped with a cheery face, nicely sprinkled with spots and freckles.
“So, Mike, Adam, and I are nobody, are we? I’ll remember that next time you want a puncture fixing or algebra sorting out, or …”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean to make you mad. It’s just that you’ve always been here. You’re more like … well … brothers. You know—good friends. Dating’s different.”
“How different?”
“Very different. A date should be exciting, romantic, unusual. I want to be whisked off my feet by someone who reveals a delicious character under a tough skin. Someone hard to reach, but cool and …”
“Mushy.”
“Pardon?”
“Really mushy. You’re describing a TV soap star, Amy. People in real life aren’t like that. Sounds as though you’re expecting some posh bloke to roll up in a Jag. I’m afraid you’re in for a long wait.”
He picked up his scriptures. “Come on, there’s your mum’s Austin. Looks like she’s in her usual hurry. She’s reversing already. She’ll be down at the gates if we’re not quick.”
Amy bent down to her bag. “Hang on,” she added, handing him a seminary booklet. “Don’t forget next week’s work. Doesn’t sound very easy reading to me, that section 95. There’s another unfair thing. How can someone be loved at the same time as being chastened? It doesn’t make me feel very loved when I’m getting a telling off.”
“Depends how you listen,” said Sam, reaching for the door. “And whether you hear with your brain or your spirit.”
“You don’t make much sense sometimes, Sam Harper.” She paused, buttoning her coat. “Sam?”
“What?”
“Between you and me, do you think I’m pretty enough to get a date?”
Sam looked away. “Yes,” he said.
“Then why don’t I?”
He stood quiet for a while, keeping the door open with his foot. Then he tapped his scriptures. “Another part of that section 95 might hold the answer. Verse 6 is very interesting.”
Amy poked him in the ribs and brushed past, head in the air.
“Oh, you’re so … so … serious.” This final word came shooting out. “Move it, then.” She began running. “Last one to the car buys chips on the way to your house.”
Sam moved. He took the shortcut, hedgehopping a stone wall and a few rose bushes.
“Slow coach,” he panted, as Amy came in a close second. Then he smiled. “But the chips are on me anyway.”
“Thanks,” she gasped, regaining her breath as he opened the car door. “But you don’t have to.”
Sam’s smile widened as her mother revved the engine. “And some for Sister Frank, seeing as we kept her waiting.”
Before the inner car light switched off, Amy glanced up just in time to catch that smile reflected in the depth of his eyes. It was mingled with such an expression of kindness that a warmth seemed to bounce right back into the whole of her being.
How odd, she pondered, while the car gathered speed. I’ve never noticed Sam’s eyes do that before. She tried to recall the last time she’d ever watched his eyes while he talked. She couldn’t.
She gave a shrug as the chip shop came in sight, quickly dismissing such unfamiliar thoughts.
The following weekend brought snow and ice.
The atmosphere in Sunday School wasn’t much warmer. Amy had read Doctrine and Covenants 95:6 that morning: “They who are not chosen have sinned a very grievous sin, in that they are walking in darkness at noonday.” [D&C 95:6]
Her first reaction had been indignation, followed swiftly by tears. Now she sat amidst her friends feeling dejected.
“What’s up, Amy?” asked Sam, dropping into the empty chair on her left. “You look like you’re having a good-cheer famine.”
She glanced briefly at him, then sniffed. “You really took that verse 6 out of context, didn’t you Sam.”
With a sheepish grin, he cringed a little. “Oh—that.”
Amy half turned away. “Why, may I ask, is it a sin to have no date? And I’m not in darkness.” Her voice rose with a slight wobble. “And everything’s quite bright and sunny, thank you.”
Sam sighed with embarrassment. “Look here, Amy,” he touched her arm. “I … I didn’t want to hurt you. It’s just that … I mean …” he stammered, turning crimson. “Uh oh, I think I’ve blown it. I can’t explain properly. It was a kind of joke. You know a play on words?”
Bending her head forward to let long strands of hair hide her face, she said in a small voice, “I wasn’t very amused, Sam.”
“Maybe you didn’t listen with your spirit, Amy. I mean, think of it this way. …”
Fortunately, the teacher arrived before he could tangle things further.
Amy sat through the lesson in a dream, letting everything slide over, like warm breath on frosted windows.
By the time midweek seminary came round again, she had melted a little and could see the funny side, even half admiring his weird sense of humour. Imagine Sam having nerve to say that to her. Walking in darkness indeed. Who did he think she’d missed around here?
She chuckled to herself. It was worth catching the early bus to seminary and getting there in time for some teasing.
But Sam wasn’t there. For the first time ever Sam was not at seminary. No one had heard from him all week. Amy felt a niggle of worry.
However, all such problems soon vanished when Amy’s mother arrived at nine. She could hear Mum’s voice before the car door was half open.
“You’ll never believe what’s happened. Maybe I was seeing things. No, they were real all right. But how could they be? Didn’t have time to double-check. Too late leaving. But how in the world … I mean … bananas—at this time of the year?”
“Mum, what are you talking about?” asked Amy, with a worried frown.
“There they were, dear. On the beech tree in the front garden. Bunches of bananas. All over the branches!”
“But, Mother, bananas never grow in England. You must have been imagining things.”
Sister Frank started the engine, shaking her head resolutely. “I may get slightly muddled at times, but I’m definitely not senile yet.”
The homeward trip was even faster than usual. And sure enough, there in the front garden was a banana tree.
Amy clambered out of the car in a daze, vaguely aware of a telephone ringing in the distance. She walked slowly up the path. “Must be some sort of hoax, Mum. They’re tied on,” she called over her shoulder whilst reaching out to touch the nearest one.
But Mother had turned her back towards the house. “Won’t be a minute dear—let me answer that phone.”
Amy pulled down the fruit, shivering. It felt cold and uninviting. She was just about to let it slither to the ground, when she noticed half stuck tape crumpled round the top. Peeling back the skin wasn’t easy. Then her eyes stretched in amazement. Folded neatly under the surface was a piece of paper.
Her fingers were too chilled to be careful, but she managed to straighten the paper enough to decipher a message.
“Is this an exciting, romantic and different enough way to ask for a date? If so, please climb the nearest easy branch and pull down banana number two. The one with a red heart stuck at the top.”
Clambering up the lumpy trunk and onto the first branch, Amy found the next one. The heart had slipped a bit, but another message fell out.
“Well, you’ve been whisked off your feet and this fruit reveals a delicious character under a tough skin.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You’ve got to be joking,” she muttered, prodding the banana, now squishy and turning brown.
“Now go for the fruit on that branch overhanging the hedge,” she read. “The one with two hearts. Be careful. It’s not easy.”
Amy hesitated, then quickly climbing, she stretched across the hedge top, only to find herself sliding gracefully into it. Spitting frosted twigs from her mouth, she reached again, grabbing at the banana.
As brown pulp squirted in her hands, she immediately wished she hadn’t bothered. Letting out an exasperated yell, she jumped down. “Oh, that Sam Harper! Just wait till …”
But she couldn’t resist opening the note. Her voice sounded surprised when she read out loud. “So sorry this one was hard to reach, but it’s definitely cool and …”
“Mushy?” came a familiar voice from behind the hedge.
“You can say that again,” exploded Amy. She tossed back her hair, then pulled down another banana. In seconds war would have broken out, but for Sam’s infectious laughter.
“So this is where you were during seminary. You’re a nut case, Sam. What am I going to do with you?” She shook her head and began brushing bits of tree off her coat.
He took out a tissue and gently wiped banana mush from her hand. “You could try answering my question,” he replied softly.
“Which one?”
“Please will you be my date for the New Year’s social?”
She looked at him for a long moment. There was that smile, hovering in his eyes again, only this time it seemed anxious and hopeful as well as kind.
“I think I must be slightly mad, but yes—on two conditions.”
Sam knelt in the slush at her feet, and with a flourish, pulled out a box of Cadbury’s milk tray from inside his coat. “Anything,” he promised, solemnly. “And here’s something to take away the taste of bananas. I know in the TV advert the man leaps off a mountain at this moment, but, … as we don’t have one handy …”
Amy giggled, giving a mock curtsy whilst he gallantly placed them in her outstretched hand.
She pulled him to his feet with the other hand. “Okay, I’ll be your date, but only if there are no more bananas—not ever.”
“And the other condition?”
She paused. “Will this mean I’m no longer walking in darkness at noonday?”
Sam grinned. “How could anyone be in the dark with me around? Come on, let’s celebrate.”
“Does a drink of Mum’s hot black current and toast sound exciting enough?”
Sam closed his eyes and sighed. “Umm! Delicious!”
Amy nudged him towards the house. The rest of the bananas could wait until morning. After all, dates don’t grow on trees every day of the week.

Several years ago, our newly married daughter and her husband began a series of moves from one place to another—graduate school, first job, and so on. These moves took them to various parts of the country. In each place the climate and soil conditions were different, but they determined they would follow the prophet’s advice and have a garden. Their first attempts at gardening were pathetic. The weeds grew much better than the vegetables. The gardens were “obedience gardens.” However, with continued effort, each year the gardens improved. They learned new techniques and developed skills. As children came to their family, each was taught to work and take responsibility in those “obedience gardens.” Now their gardens are attractive, worthwhile “survival” projects, as the family enjoys and shares the produce. They preserve the excess for later use. Besides the practical lessons they learned, they found peace and assurance in keeping the commandments. Surely the promise was fulfilled for them: the prophet’s advice had been for their good always.

When I returned from my mission, I wanted to find an eternal companion and be sealed in the temple. I first met my wife, Rosana, while we served in the same mission. Several months following our missions, we crossed paths at a multistake dance. We started dating, and two years later, we were married and sealed in the temple with the goal of raising our own eternal family.
Rosana and I worked together to create a family focused on the Savior, His teachings, and the teachings of His prophets and apostles. In time, I had the blessing of sealing my three children to their spouses. Seeing them kneel at the altar in the temple was an unforgettable and beautiful experience. Today, our children are raising their children in the gospel—just as my parents had done for my brothers and me and as Rosana and I have tried to do for them. I can see the blessings of the gospel continue eternally for our family!