Gospel Story Finder

While serving a mission, I had many opportunities to use the musical skills that I had learned. I relished the many opportunities to sing and play the piano and played nearly every week in sacrament meeting. I will always remember listening to those faithful Guatemalan members singing the hymns. I taught members new hymns that they weren’t familiar with. I taught some basic piano lessons. My companions and I would sing to the people we were teaching. Even if we sang off-key, the Spirit was always there to touch the hearts of the people.

As the Saints moved across the plains, their care for each other was organized in “companies.” One of my paternal great-grandfathers was returning from his mission in what is now Oklahoma when he met a company on the trail. He was so weak with disease that he and his companion were on their backs in a little wagon.

The leader of the company sent two young women to help whoever might be in that forlorn wagon. One of them, a young sister who had been converted in Switzerland, took a look at one of the missionaries and felt compassion. He was saved by that company of Saints. He recovered enough to walk the rest of the way to the Salt Lake Valley with his young rescuer by his side. They fell in love and married. He became my great-grandfather Henry Eyring, and she my great-grandmother Maria Bommeli Eyring.

Years later, when people remarked at the great difficulty of moving across a continent, she said, “Oh no, it wasn’t hard. While we walked, we talked the whole way about what a miracle it was that we had both found the true gospel of Jesus Christ. It was the happiest time I can remember.”

In a western city a young man had been preparing for 18 years to go on a mission. He was excited, his parents were excited, his girlfriend was also, and he was ready.

One evening at the city swimming pool, he and some friends were diving from the highboard. The second he hit the water, he knew his approach angle had not been good. He was in trouble. His head pierced the water and struck the bottom of the pool with a sickening thud. He was immediately knocked unconscious. He was brought carefully to the poolside and then rushed to the hospital. After weeks of medical attention, he was finally told that he would be paralyzed for the rest of his life from his neck down. He couldn’t move a finger or a toe, an arm or a leg. He would now lie in bed forever. His body would become a useless thing, and unless something unusual happened, so would his spirit.

A wise bishop recognized the problem. After talking with the boy’s parents and the doctor, the bishop gave him an assignment. It was unbelievable, unreal, impossible! The assignment: would he please write a letter each month to every missionary and serviceman from their ward? Was the bishop just not thinking or was he inspired? How could the boy write with no hands or fingers to assist? Some had learned to use their toes in such an emergency, but he couldn’t move his. Having faith in their bishop, the boy and his parents started to work on the assignment. It took days, weeks, and months of effort and discouragement. In time, it began to happen.

By putting a pencil between his teeth and moving his head, he learned to make a mark, then a word, next a sentence, and finally a page. He wrote and wrote.

For over 20 years he has been writing beautiful letters. He has inspired thousands. The side benefit is that his own spirit, simply stated, is magnificent. Is it worth the effort to follow our leaders’ counsel no matter how hard or how difficult? He thinks so. So do I.

Things are not always the way they appear to be:
One young man, away from home for the first time in his life, made friendships with people who took him to places the Spirit could not remain. He perceived the emptiness he felt when he was with his new friends in these places, to be evidence of his complete lack of social ability. He started to believe: "There must be something wrong with me. I'm a complete social misfit. I don't even like being with people." It was only years later, following other experiences with friends where the Spirit was present, that he made the connection, that what was uncomfortable to him, was not social situations, but was ANY situation where the Spirit was not present.

I was also able to enjoy that same Christ-centered culture growing up in a home where my father honored his priesthood and gained the trust of the entire family due to “the integrity of his heart.”7 Let me share with you an experience from my youth that illustrates the lasting positive impact that a father who understands and lives the principle of trust built on integrity can have on his family.

When I was very young, my father founded a company that specialized in factory automation. This business engineered, fabricated, and installed automated production lines worldwide.

When I was in middle school, my father wanted me to learn how to work. He also wanted me to learn the business from the ground up. My first job included maintaining the grounds and painting areas of the facility not visible to the general public.

When I entered high school, I was promoted to work on the factory floor. I started to learn how to read blueprints and run heavy steel fabrication machinery. After high school graduation, I attended university and then entered the mission field. Returning home from my mission, I went straight back to work. I needed to earn money for the next year’s school expenses.

One day soon after my mission, I was working in the factory when my father called me into his office and asked if I would like to go with him on a business trip to Los Angeles. This was the first time my father invited me to accompany him on a business trip. He was actually letting me go out in public to help represent the company.

Before we left on the trip, he prepared me with a few details about this potential new client. First, the client was a multinational corporation. Second, they were upgrading their production lines worldwide with the latest in automation technology. Third, our company had never previously supplied them with engineering services or technology. And finally, their top corporate officer in charge of purchasing had called this meeting to review our bid on a new project. This meeting represented a new and potentially important opportunity for our company.

After arriving in Los Angeles, my father and I went to the executive’s hotel for the meeting. The first order of business was to discuss and analyze the engineering design specifications of the project. The next discussion item concerned operational details, including logistics and delivery dates. The concluding agenda item focused on pricing, terms, and conditions. This is where things got interesting.

This corporate officer explained to us that our price proposal was the lowest of those who had submitted bids on the project. He then, curiously, told us the price of the second-lowest bid. He then asked us if we would be willing to take our proposal back and resubmit it. He stated that our new price should come in just below the next highest bid. He then explained that we would split the newly added dollars 50–50 with him. He rationalized this by saying that everyone would win. Our company would win because we would be making considerably more money than our original bid provided. His company would win because they would still be doing business with the lowest bidder. And, of course, he would win by taking his cut because he put this great deal together.

He then gave us a post office box number where we could send the money he requested. After all of this, he looked at my father and asked, “So, do we have a deal?” Much to my surprise, my father stood up, shook his hand, and told him we would get back to him.

After leaving the meeting, we got into the rental car, and my father turned to me and asked, “Well, what do you think we should do?”

I responded by saying I didn’t think we should accept this offer.

My father then asked, “Don’t you think we have a responsibility to all of our employees to maintain a good backlog of work?”

While I was contemplating his question and before I could answer, he answered his own question. He said, “Listen, Rick, once you take a bribe or compromise your integrity, it is very difficult to ever get it back. Don’t ever do it, not even once.”

The fact that I’m sharing this experience means that I have never forgotten what my father taught me on that first business trip with him. I share this experience to illustrate the lasting influence we have as fathers. You can imagine the trust I had in my father due to the integrity of his heart. He lived these same principles in his private life with my mother, his children, and all with whom he associated.

Aaron turned 19 just a few months before this year’s X Games, and it would have been easy to postpone his mission just long enough to compete one more time before he left for the mission field, but he says he can’t wait that long. He’s too excited about being a full-time missionary.

“One of my sponsors asked about ‘this mission thing,’” says Aaron. “He asked if my church can’t make an exception and let me leave later. I told him it’s my choice.”

So this is it. Aaron has traded in his climbing gear for a suit and tie, and he’s headed for a summit of a different kind.

When Aaron returns home, maybe he’ll be a little taller; maybe he won’t. But he knows that he’ll grow spiritually and that his testimony and his love for people will be stronger than ever. And it’s that kind of training, more than any climbing or exercise he could do, that makes Aaron easy to spot in any crowd.

Editor’s note: Aaron has received his call to the Italy Padova Mission.

This ward is composed of members of many ages, from a variety of countries, all with varying economic circumstances and Church experience. A number of those with the most Church experience are busy graduate-student couples with demanding schedules and young families.

What I saw was a young mother serving as a visiting teaching mentor to newer converts in the ward. While her husband cared for their baby, she enthusiastically modeled loving watchcare to two African sisters. This watchcare involved teaching these sisters not only how to function in a new country but also how to adapt to their new religion.

Through her example she taught these African sisters how the Lord would have us serve each other. The words of the Apostle Paul tenderly describe what I saw in this visiting teaching mentor’s actions toward these new converts: “We were gentle among you, … being affectionately desirous of you, … willing to have imparted unto you, not the gospel of God only, but also our own souls, because ye were dear unto us.” With each visit, the young mentor brought good cheer, a gentle helping hand, and the visiting teaching message.

In time, together the sisters prepared the visiting teaching message to share in other sisters’ homes. Assessing needs, giving on-the-spot service as they went, they became true Relief Society sisters committed to lifting, comforting, and encouraging one another. I doubt I will ever hear the phrase “hearts knit together in unity and in love” that I won’t think of those three happy, loving women demonstrating through their determined service to others what it means “to grow up unto the Lord.”

One wonderful thing happened when we were just starting in the United States. We needed so much advertising! Believe me, we needed a budget a hundred times larger than we had. We were worrying about how to stretch our dollars.

I was commuting between here and Vancouver, and one day I was in Canada when Mr. Kessler phoned me and said, “Rose Marie, a very large company wants to use you in their advertising. They want to know when you will be back in New York so that you can be photographed in full color. They also want to show some of your suits. The ad will be on the backs of all of the prominent magazines in America. They will be on billboards, newspapers—everywhere! It will amount to about $250,000 in free advertising for us, and they want to know when you will be back in New York for the photographs.”

I said, “Oh, Jack, tell them I will go anytime for that.”

And he said, “There is only one hitch in it. You have to say that you smoke Camel cigarettes.”

I said, “Oh, my goodness! Well, ask if I can say Camels must be the best because my partner smokes them.”

And he said, “No, the slogan is ‘Experience Is the Best Teacher,’ and so they want you, and you have to say that.”

I said, “Well, Jack, you know the answer. I couldn’t possibly.”

He said, “Don’t answer now. I will call you tomorrow. You think about it.”

Well, our budget for advertising that year— that we could afford to spend ourselves—was about $30,000. So to get $250,000 worth of free advertising would have been tremendous.

I went home that night to my children—who were seven, nine, and eleven—and I said, “How would you like to have someone advertise our business for us so we would have lots of money and we could buy a big, beautiful home with a swimming pool, cars, a horse for Bruce to ride, and everything you want?”

And they said, “Oh, Mommy, how?”

And I said, “A company wants to use me in its advertising. All I have to do is say I smoke Camel cigarettes.”

And they said in disgust, “Oh, Mommy, we don’t need a house. We have a house. Bruce can rent a horse, and we don’t need a swimming pool.”

And I thought, “Isn’t that wonderful?”

So when Mr. Kessler called me the next day, I said, “Well, Jack, I am awfully sorry, but you know the answer. I really feel sorry about it because, after all, I am only part of the business. It is your business too, and I hate to deprive you of this advertising by saying no, but I just could not possibly do it.”

Then the most wonderful thing happened. Mr. Kessler said, “Rose Marie, Nina and I talked this over, and we would have been afraid for the future of this business if you had said yes. It will be made up to us many times. Don’t you even give it another thought.”

And I thought, “How very blessed I am that I could be associated with people who could have an understanding of Mormon principles like that.”

And I was very happy when I saw that the Camel designer series of ads lasted only six months and not one swimsuit designer was ever featured on it. We all feel that it has been well worth the sacrifice, for this business has grown faster than we could cope with it!

Sarah headed to the back of the room, where some of the popular girls in her class were waiting for her. As she passed Kathy, who was trying to finish her homework before class started, Kathy looked up and said, “Good morning, Sarah.”
Mr. Jones gave homework every night, and if it wasn’t handed in first thing, you had to stay in for both recesses.
“I see your ‘bosom buddy’ is trying to finish her homework—like always,” Roxanne sneered.
“She’s not my ‘bosom buddy,’ Roxanne. You know that.” Sarah felt the eyes of the other girls laughing at her.
The girls giggled as Roxanne went on, “Did you notice what she was wearing today? I wonder where she found that horrible sweater. It looks like a sweater my mom wore in high school.”
“Yeah, it looks like a two-for-one special from the Bargain Barn,” Rachel added.
“And we all know, ‘Two is better than one.’” Roxanne mimicked Crazy Barney from the Bargain Barn commercial. The other girls laughed.
Sarah felt bad for Kathy, but she wished Kathy would quit picking her out to talk to. It was embarrassing in front of these girls.
After school, Mom said, “Sarah, I talked to Sister Simpson today, and she was concerned. Her children don’t have any friends at school. Even the Latter-day Saint students aren’t nice to them. I’m sure that’s why the family hasn’t been to church. Her daughter is in your grade. Could you be her friend and invite her to Primary?”
“Sure, Mom, but there’s nobody named Simpson in my class. She must be in the other fifth-grade class.” Sarah got out some graham crackers.
“No, I’m sure she’s in your class, because her mother said she was having a hard time keeping up with all the homework that Mr. Jones assigns. They had to move a few months after their baptism because Brother Simpson lost his job. He’s working now, but they’ve had a difficult time making ends meet. Let’s see—I wrote her name down. … Here it is—Kathy Burns. Her last name is different from her mother’s. Do you know Kathy?”
The graham crackers suddenly stuck to the sides of Sarah’s mouth. It would be Kathy! What’ll the other girls say? They already tease me because I don’t make fun of her when they do. Now Mom wants me to be her friend. Sarah knew that Roxanne would have a field day with that. Roxanne would have two targets. And, of course, “two is better than one.”
“Sarah, are you all right? You look sick.”
“Yeah, uh, I’m all right, Mom.”
“Well, do you know Kathy Burns?”
“Yes, I know her. But I didn’t know she was a member of the Church. She doesn’t really have any friends. She’s kind of … different.”
Mom looked into her eyes, “Sarah, we’re all different in some ways, but we’re also very much alike. We all need to know of Heavenly Father’s love for us, and we all need friends.”
“I guess so.” Sarah felt a tug-of-war going on inside her as she tried to avoid Mom’s gaze.
That night, Sarah didn’t sleep well. When Dad called her at six-thirty the next morning for scripture study, she groaned. “I think I’m sick, Dad. Can I sleep a little longer?”
Well, it was kind of true—she felt sick at heart.
“Come on downstairs with us, and I bet you’ll feel better after scriptures,” Dad called back.
Sarah rested her head against the couch, not really paying much attention as Mom started reading the sixth chapter of Moroni. But as she began verse three, something made Sarah listen closely:
“‘And none were received unto baptism save they took upon them the name of Christ, having a determination to serve him to the end.
“‘And after they had been received unto baptism, and were wrought upon and cleansed by the power of the Holy Ghost, they were numbered among the people of the church of Christ; and their names were taken, that they might be remembered and nourished by the good word of God, to keep them in the right way …’”
Sarah remembered two years ago when she was baptized, how determined she had felt to always do what Jesus would want her to do. She wondered if Kathy’s family felt like they were really “numbered among the people of the church.”
She looked at the picture on the wall of the Savior. She’d seen it many times and loved it. This morning, however, as she gazed at it, she seemed to feel the love Jesus had for her—and for Kathy. She felt warm inside, and some of His words came into her mind: “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”*
Sarah felt a peace come over her, and she knew what she must do. She no longer cared what the in-group at school would say. She would follow Christ with a “determination to serve him to the end.”
As Sarah walked into her classroom, she gazed around the room, looking for Kathy.
“Over here, Sarah,” Rachel called.
“Just a minute,” Sarah called back, still looking for Kathy.
“Are you looking for Santa Claus?” Roxanne laughed. “Come here, silly!”
“I’m looking for Kathy,” Sarah told them matter-of-factly. “Have any of you seen her?”
Roxanne asked the group, mockingly, “Did she say she was looking for Kathy?”
“Yes,” Sarah said, looking each of them in the eye. “I have an invitation for her to the Primary party at our church.”
“Kathy belongs to your church?” Rachel piped up.
“Yes. I just found out yesterday, and I want her to know about the party we’re having next week. Oh, there she is now. I’ll talk to you all later.”
After class began, Mr. Jones asked to talk to Sarah at break. Sarah worried. She had finished her homework, but she had been kind of distracted last night. …
“Sarah, you’re a good student,” Mr. Jones told her, “and I wondered if you’d help me. Kathy and Vickie both need a little extra help understanding fractions. Would you work with them during math time? It shouldn’t take long for them to catch up with the rest of the class, and I don’t think it would put you behind. I think that Kathy likes you—I noticed the two of you talking this morning. What do you think?”
Sarah smiled. “I’d like to help. Kathy likes me fine, but I don’t know about Vickie. She never talks to me. I don’t mind helping her, too, though.”
“Thank you, Sarah, and don’t worry about Vickie. I’m sure you’ll get along well together.”
Sarah and Kathy talked quietly together as they worked on the math assignment. Vickie didn’t say much, but about halfway through math time, she began to get the hang of simplifying fractions and she started to smile. Soon the three girls were whispering and laughing quietly as they worked on the problems together. Sarah had never enjoyed math class as much as she had today.
Sarah could hardly wait as she ran in the door. “Mom! Mom! Guess what?”
“I’m upstairs,” Mom called.
Sarah took the steps two at a time. “You won’t believe it, Mom! I made friends with Kathy—and with another girl, Vickie. I’m helping them during math, and it’s really fun! It’s a lot more fun than working by myself all the time. They’re both really nice, and we ate together at lunchtime. Two new friends in one day—isn’t it great? Two is better than one, right, Mom?”
“Right, Sarah. When it comes to good things, like friendship, two is better than one.”

Hi, I’m Mei.
I found this picture in an old box. On the back, I saw the name Fumiko.
My mom said it was a picture of my great-great-grandma Fumiko. I wanted to find out more about her.
We looked back in the box and found an old letter Fumiko wrote and more pictures. It was fun to learn about her.
We went to FamilySearch.org and added Fumiko to our family tree. We put in her birthday and the date when she and her husband, Hiroshi, got married.
We also added Fumiko’s pictures. Now if the photos get lost or ruined, my family can always find a copy online.
Fumiko was never baptized when she was alive. but now I’m old enough to go to the temple to be baptized for her.
We made a copy of Fumiko’s name and information. Then we went to the temple and I got baptized for her!
When I got home, I wrote about it in my journal. Someday I hope to meet Great-Grandma Fumiko. I want to keep learning about her and about my whole family!

December 19, 1997, was a cold, wintery day in Rexburg. My husband, Kerry, and I were enjoying working together on a Christmas present, when suddenly he was struck with an excruciating headache. His condition deteriorated rapidly. In the emergency room, the doctors determined he was suffering from a massive brain hemorrhage. I am a registered nurse and was employed at this hospital. As the doctors and nurses, who were my colleagues, worked together to save my husband’s life, it became apparent that we were losing the battle. Kerry had slipped into a deep coma, and his pupils were fixed and dilated. As a nurse, I wanted so desperately to be able to do something for him. I was fully aware that everything medically possible was being done, but I wanted more. At that moment I felt impressed that what he needed was a priesthood blessing! I called my brother-in-law, Lane, who worked nearby and asked him to give Kerry a blessing. A beautiful, powerful, and miraculous blessing was given. In that blessing, Kerry was promised a full and complete recovery. When I heard this, I thought that Lane did not understand the severity of Kerry’s situation. I had cared for many patients over the years with conditions like this, and the outcomes were rarely positive. The looks, hugs, and words I received from the medical team made it apparent that they also felt Kerry was not going to make it. Shortly after the blessing, Kerry was taken to a waiting life-flight helicopter to be transferred to a trauma center. At that time, the attending physician gave me a hug and informed me he did not think Kerry would survive the flight. When I arrived at the trauma center, I was scared to go in for fear of what I was going to find. You can imagine my shock when I walked into his room and found him sitting up talking to the doctor! Over the next couple of months, Kerry underwent a 12-hour brain surgery at University of Utah and has since made his promised full recovery.
This miracle of healing had a profound impact on me, as I realized I had put my trust in the laws of medicine, something I had studied and practiced for many years. It is true that the doctors and nurses caring for my husband, as talented as they were, did not have the ability to save his life. Thankfully, the Lord did. My brother-in-law was able to pronounce a priesthood blessing on him that, through the power of God, was able to heal him and save his life.

As I grew up loving sports and playing college basketball, I dealt with many injuries. When injuries came, they were treated, and I got back to playing. The good old saying of “rub some dirt on it” and get back out there was how I grew up.

A few years ago I was playing ball with my family and friends, and I hit the back of my head on a brick wall. I sat down for a few minutes and thought I was fine. I even went back out and stood on the court pretending that I could play. I soon realized something wasn’t right. I started to feel a little nauseated and decided I should leave. Stubborn as I was, I didn’t say anything to anyone as I thought I could drive the ten miles to my home. As I got in the car, my situation worsened. I physically had to hold my head up. I decided I needed to stop or I wasn’t going to make it home, so I stopped by my parents’ home to regain my composure. After a brief rest, I got back in the car. Once again I did not let others know the intensity of my struggle. After some prayer and difficulty driving, I made it home.

Before I relate the conclusion of this story, I want you to think about your own experiences. Have you had times in your life when you have felt that you just needed to do it on your own? That you needed to absorb the pain, the affliction, and the trial alone? But why? Physical injuries pose challenges, but emotional and spiritual wounds can be even more crippling. When we confront personal battles, there is often a fear of appearing inadequate or weak or of having failed others. Despite our natural inclination to hide our struggles, we should remember that Jesus Christ is always there for us and that He took on additional suffering so He could more perfectly help us in our personal trials.21

Jesus Christ taught that a good shepherd leaves the ninety-nine to find the one lost sheep.22 You are worth being found, being comforted, being helped. If you swallow your pride and let Him in, He will direct you, comfort you, heal you, and believe in you.

Now back to my sports accident.

The injury resulted in a severe concussion. I had never experienced anything like it before. I could not do anything. I curled up in bed in a dark room. I found myself highly dependent, and I had to accept help from others as my brain healed over the course of the following months. I sincerely prayed to Heavenly Father for guidance, strength, and assistance. Through a blessing from my husband, persistent prayers, and a continual process of trusting the Lord, I was provided a degree of comfort and assurance as I healed.

Another couple recently served in a small village south of Santiago, Chile. They had no Spanish skills and were apprehensive about being in a different country so far from the comforts of home. But they plunged in with total dedication, loving and serving the people. Before long, the small branch grew from 12 to 75 members. When it came time for them to leave, the entire branch rented a bus so they could go to the airport, four hours away, and say good-bye to their special friends.

The blessings for future families are already becoming evident. A young returned missionary in Mexico reports:
“In December 2001, I returned home after a full-time mission in the México Veracruz Mission. My goals were high, but it appeared that I would be unable to achieve them due to finances, even with the help of my family. It was then I discovered that through the PEF my dream could be achieved.
“Only last week I finished my studies and was immediately hired at a salary three times greater than that which I was earning before. I can now begin my family. I was married on 20 December 2002.”

During the week, I studied the scriptures for seminary before I did my schoolwork. When I was too tired to do my homework or was having challenges at school, I opened my seminary manual, studied, and prayed. I found that when I did that, I could refresh my mind and focus better on my homework. I still apply this in my life. Today, whenever I have a hard time, I still read my scriptures or general conference talks to refresh my mind.
Many high school students in Korea spend most of their time going to school and studying late. We learned that when we took time out for seminary and Mutual activities, we felt refreshed and were blessed to do better with our schoolwork. The lessons I learned there also helped me in other situations while I was still in school.

Welfare services missionaries were assigned by the branch president to visit the home of every newly baptized family. In carrying out this assignment, the missionaries often found emergency teaching situations.

For example, one day upon entering the home of a newly baptized member, they were greeted by the mother, who invited them to sit own and then began to cry. Her baby was sick. Its stomach was badly bloated.

Upon investigation, it was found that the child had never had anything to eat except flour and water or powdered milk. For eight months the mother had been afraid to give the baby any other food because it was so sick, and it was sick because it was starving!

The missionaries taught the mother how to include cereals, fruits, and vegetables in the child’s diet. Now the child is on the road to normal health.

When I was about seven years old, I asked my mother, “When you and I die and go to heaven, will you still be my mother?” She was not expecting such a question. But answering to the best of her knowledge, she said, “No, in heaven we are going to be brothers and sisters. I will not be your mother.” That was not the answer I was hoping for.
Sometime after that short interaction, two young men arrived at the gate of our home. By some miracle, my father allowed them to come in. They said they were missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
These elders, as we learned to call them, started to teach our family. I vividly remember our feelings of happiness and excitement every time they came to our home. They told us that a young man had gone to a grove to ask God which church was true and that he saw God and Jesus Christ. The elders showed us an illustration of that vision, and when I saw it, I knew that Joseph Smith had indeed seen God the Father and Jesus Christ. The missionaries said that because of this vision, the true Church of Jesus Christ was again upon the earth.
The missionaries also taught us God’s plan of happiness and answered our family’s questions about religion. They taught us that families truly can be together after this life as father, mother, and sons and daughters.
Our family was baptized. The road to changing old habits, giving up traditions, and becoming active members of the Church was at times bumpy. But because of the mercy and love of God and with the help of many leaders and members, we made it through the first challenging years.

And now that you’re older, life is a much more serious game. A few months ago, for example, I looked out the front door and saw my four-year-old son lying belly down on the sidewalk, using his tongue to lap water out of the gutter.

“Jonathan,” I yelled, “what are you doing?”
“Getting a drink, Daddy,” he answered. “I was thirsty.”

My boy could have been poisoned slurping sludge out of the gutter, so I told him not to do that anymore. The whole episode was kind of cute, really, and I got a kick out of telling it to friends. But when Jonathan gets to be a teenager, some of the things he may get into won’t be so cute because they’ll have long-lasting spiritual and physical consequences.

It was impossible to cheer up Aunt Mabel. I’d been with her all day, and she hadn’t even come close to smiling. I handed the mail to her and said, “A magazine and a letter from Cousin Ellen.”
“But no surprise package from anyone,” Aunt Mabel said. “What a bad day.” She set the mail on the table in the dark hall and turned to me. “Shall we go for a little walk, Judy?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said, happy to get out of her gloomy house. When we stepped outside, I smiled up at the blue sky. “What a bright, sunny day,” I said.
Aunt Mabel glared at the sky. “It’s too bright. It makes me squint. Now I’ll get more wrinkles. What a bad day.”
I looked down and saw something shiny on the sidewalk. “Look! A penny,” I said, stooping to pick it up.
“Too bad it’s not a dime or a quarter,” Aunt Mabel said.
We walked to the park and Aunt Mabel sat on a bench under a big, leafy tree. “Isn’t it nice here in the shade?” I asked.
Aunt Mabel shook her head, gazing uneasily at the branches.
“Those leaves are probably full of caterpillars, and one might fall on me. What a bad day.”
I sighed and sat next to Aunt Mabel, but no caterpillars fell from the tree. After a few minutes, Aunt Mabel stood up. “Let’s be on our way,” she said.
We walked beside a garden that was filled with big yellow and orange flowers. “Mmmm,” I said. “Don’t those flowers smell sweet!”
Aunt Mabel rubbed her nose. “Makes my nose twitch,” she said, hurrying past the garden. “What a bad day.”
I slowed down and breathed in the sweet fragrance. My nose wasn’t twitching. I watched Aunt Mabel walk along the path and wondered how I could cheer her up. Skipping along, I caught up with her. “At least the sun’s not in our eyes, now,” I said, watching our shadows stretch before us.
Aunt Mabel buttoned her sweater. “Now the sun is hot on my back, but I’m cold in front. What a bad day.”
“We’re almost home,” I said as we turned the corner and Aunt Mabel’s house came into view. “You have a pretty house.”
Aunt Mabel looked up at her house. “It’s old,” she said. “The floor boards creak and groan.”
We climbed the steps and sat on the porch swing. “Shall I get us some lemonade?” I asked. Aunt Mabel nodded.
I carried two glasses of lemonade out to the porch. I knew what Aunt Mabel would say, and sure enough, after one sip she said it: “This lemonade is too sour. What a bad day.”
I was thirsty and drank mine right down. I thought it tasted pretty good. At last Mom’s car pulled up in front of the house, and I jumped up to leave.
“Did you have a nice visit?” she asked. I just shrugged. I didn’t want to lie and say I’d had a great time.
Aunt Mabel stood up and kissed Mom on the cheek. Then she gave me a hug. I hugged her, too, and she said, “Ouch! Watch out for these old bones!” I backed away.
“Did you have a good day visiting with your niece?” Mom asked her.
I waited for Aunt Mabel to tell Mom what a bad day she’d had.
“I had a very good day,” Aunt Mabel said. “It was nice to have someone to tell my troubles to.”
Mom and I got in the car, and before we drove away, I waved to Aunt Mabel. She waved back, and I was sure she actually smiled at me.
“You certainly cheered Aunt Mabel up,” Mom said.
“Yes,” I said. “What a bad-good day we had.”

Wouldn’t it be nice if it were possible to ask President Uchtdorf’s mother if she had any inkling that her youngest son might be called one day to serve in the First Presidency of the Church? What did she sense as she nurtured her young son, enabled his freedom, and saved his life? On one occasion she and the children were in a public auditorium. She was impressed to leave the building immediately. Because of that urgent feeling, she availed herself of a wheeled cart, placed young Dieter in it, and scurried away with her children as quickly as possible. Shortly thereafter, the building was destroyed by an act of war. Most occupants of the auditorium were killed. Sister Uchtdorf and her children were spared.