Gospel Story Finder

The play revolved around the struggles in the lives of the three oldest children in a large LDS family. The oldest daughter had to decide whether to marry a young man who could not marry her in the temple; the nearly nineteen-year-old son had to decide between a football scholarship and a mission; and the sixteen-year-old daughter faced the choice of maintaining her standards or joining with her peers in a more wild way of life. By the end of the play, because of sincere personal efforts and help from family members and leaders, all three had reached the right decisions.

When many of us think about pioneers, we think about the long walk to the western United States 150 years ago—and the blisters, exhaustion, and frozen toes that came with all that walking.
Cesar Gaspar, a 15-year-old from Guadalajara, Mexico, has never ridden in a covered wagon. He’s never pushed a handcart, and he’s never been to the United States. But he knows all about walking. He walks to seminary, to school, to church, to activities, and home again. Walking is a constant in Cesar’s life.
“Sometimes I feel like that’s all I do,” he says with a smile. He’s not complaining. It’s just a fact. But walking isn’t all this young man has in common with the early pioneers.
Cesar began looking for the gospel without realizing it. Although he was already active in a church, Cesar became interested in other religions and started taking his first steps toward the restored gospel.
“I would read literature from other churches, and then I would pray to Father in Heaven, saying, ‘If this is the true church, send your servants to me and have them teach me.’”
Cesar started his search, he says, without thinking about the changes it would cause in his life. But not long after Cesar started praying for an answer, one came.
Cesar’s last name is Gaspar. Fortunate for him, his name followed Betty Garcia’s on the alphabetical seating charts for most of his junior high school classes. Since they sat next to each other most of the school day, they became friends, sometimes studying together after school.
“One day she mentioned that she was a member of the Church,” says Cesar. “I got very interested and started asking her what her beliefs were, what her principles were.”
Soon Cesar needed to know more. He followed Betty’s brother home from school one day. After building the courage to knock on the door, Cesar was invited into the house, and Betty and her family talked with him about what it means to be a Latter-day Saint.
But it was another name that gave him the desire to find the Garcia family’s house in the first place.
“When I was first learning about the Church, the thing that impressed me the most was its name. There was something very special to me about the fact that the Church had Jesus Christ in its name. That name has a very spiritual and good feeling.”
Soon Cesar had a copy of the Book of Mormon—compliments of the Garcia family—and lots of questions.
Attending sacrament meeting for the first time was strange for Cesar. It wasn’t anything like the meetings he was accustomed to.
“There was a man carrying the sacrament trays. He was very busy fixing the microphone and saying hello to everyone. There were so many people there that I wondered if they would all fit in the church! It seemed funny that the man fixing the microphone was the bishop.
“It was also a change to be in church for three hours; that seemed like a long time. I still remember that first Sunday School class. We talked about the birth of Jesus Christ, and I asked a lot of questions. After class, Betty’s brother, Isaac, helped me find the missionaries. I didn’t go to priesthood meeting that day; instead, I had my first discussion with the missionaries.”
That discussion led to more discussions during the week. By Thursday, the bishop had interviewed Cesar, and the following Sunday—exactly one week after his first attendance at Sunday meetings—Cesar was baptized.
“It was pretty fast,” Cesar admits, “but by that time I had already read the Book of Mormon. Before meeting the missionaries, I had also read Doctrines of Salvation, Truth Restored, and The Miracle of Forgiveness, and I had started Jesus the Christ. I felt ready.”
That was two years ago. Cesar is the only Church member in his family. It would be easy for him to miss church once in a while or to decide against attending seminary—especially since he almost always has to walk to get there! But he doesn’t even think about that. Instead, he thinks about the people who see what he does.
“I have to be an example to my family,” he says. “I try to be as perfect as I can because I know they’re watching me.”
As Cesar and any other convert knows, joining the Church can be a big change. “The Church is more than principles. It’s a way of life,” Cesar says. “Keeping the Word of Wisdom, blessing the food at every meal, praying morning and night, attending early-morning seminary—that was a big change! And there are other things, like studying the scriptures on my own and getting up early on Sundays for church.”
But after two years, Cesar seems comfortable with all those changes, so comfortable that he shares the gospel message with anyone who will listen.
“I try to be very careful about comments I make to my friends so that I can teach them about the Church without offending them,” he says.
Although he’s still relatively new in the gospel, you’d never know that Cesar hasn’t been a member all his life. He learns quickly and has a great desire to know the truth. But Cesar says that there’s another, more important reason he’s learned so much so fast.
“When I was reading the Book of Mormon before I joined the Church, I came to the part about Jesus Christ in America, and I knew it was true,” says Cesar. “At the time, I didn’t recognize the Holy Ghost, but I felt very peaceful. That moment was a new beginning in my life. I felt I could start over and do things in a different and better way.”
That strong prompting has translated into bold action. It’s the secret to Cesar’s great energy in living and sharing the gospel, despite obstacles and weaknesses that he, like all people, has to overcome. Cesar keeps a journal to remind himself of, and to eventually share with others, the reasons he lives the gospel. It helps him keep his spirits up when life is hard.
“Being an example and writing in my journal will help me leave a legacy. When my children and grandchildren read what I have written, they will know that being the only member of the Church in my family isn’t easy at all, and I have had to work very hard.”
They’ll know a lot of other things about him, too—that he loves his calling as a stake missionary; that he loves to be around other Church members, especially the young men and women in his ward and stake; and, most important, that he has a testimony.
“I’ve noticed that many people think I’m not old enough to know or to receive an answer about something important, like religion. But I have a testimony that no matter your age, if you have a sincere heart and if you ask, you will receive an answer for sure,” says Cesar.
Cesar hasn’t ever sung the lyrics “Pioneer children sang as they walked and walked and walked and walked” (“Pioneer Children Sang As They Walked,” Children’s Songbook, 214), but when he hears those words, he says with a smile, “That’s my song! I walk a lot.”
There are differences, of course, between Cesar and the pioneer children of old. Cesar walks through the busy streets of Guadalajara, not the open plains. And Cesar doesn’t gather fuel for the evening’s fire or feed livestock at the end of the day. But he, too, is a pioneer.
One day his children and grandchildren will talk about their ancestor, Cesar Gaspar, and how he loved to gather friends together and give them the wonderful gospel message. And they’ll talk about the fact that, even though he had to walk most of the places he wanted to go, he was always singing a song—even if you couldn’t hear it. It was a song not about walking but about how happy the gospel made him and how strong his testimony was. He may or may not have been a good singer, but it was a tune he loved to carry—and to share.

After Spencer set his individual goals, he and his parents came up with a great plan. As a family, they study scriptures together, but they also wanted to review the talks given at general conference. His parents offered him the chance to be the leader in those discussions. He would choose the talk from the most recent conference, and every Sunday they would spend about 20 minutes talking about it. Spencer says, “I read the selected article in the Ensign beforehand. Then I prepare questions for people to answer. It gives me the opportunity to lead in the family, sort of practice for becoming a dad. It’s kind of cool.”
This family study fulfills his Duty to God goal for “Pray and Study the Scriptures” during the priest year. He follows the Duty to God pattern:
Learn: He arranges for a Sunday afternoon time for the presentation. He gathers information to support the talk he has chosen to present.
Act: He reads the talk from the Ensign or watches the videos of the talks online and prepares discussion questions.
Share: He presents his discussion and questions to his family.
This experience to fulfill his Duty to God goal has helped Spencer stay on track. He says, “The project has affected us a lot. Now that it is a Duty to God goal, I’m more motivated to do it. My family has been more persistent.”
For the family, Spencer’s project has strengthened them. The plan they made together while driving in the car has proven to be a move forward for them all.

When our daughter Aris submitted her recommendation form to serve a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, my wife and I prayed fervently that she would be called to serve in a safe place. Every parent desires the safety of his or her children, even as we strive to trust in the Lord’s will. We never imagined the series of tender mercies that would soon be manifested.
Over the years, our family has been blessed through temple covenants, and our children have been raised in the light of the gospel. As my oldest daughter prepared to serve a mission, my wife and I were nervous and excited, wondering where she might serve.
The long-awaited day came for my daughter to open her mission call.
“Dear Sister Ledesma,” she read, “you are called to serve as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Your assignment is to work in the Hawaii Laie Mission. It is anticipated that you will serve for 18 months. …”
At first, we wondered: Hawaii? We had never heard of someone from the Dominican Republic going to serve on a mission in Hawaii. But then a wave of excitement and relief came over us. Our prayers had been answered. Hawaii seemed like a safe and quiet place for our daughter to serve, especially given the turmoil in various parts of the world. We were immensely grateful. However, as we took in the news, we began to realize this calling involved more than just physical safety: It was a deep, personal testimony of the Lord’s hand in our lives.
Whether by coincidence or divine design, the missionary who shared the gospel with me many years ago is from Hawaii and resides in the Laie Mission. The missionary who taught my wife the gospel was also from Hawaii and still lives there. Either way, it was a blessing for us.
I contacted Brother Underwood, the missionary who taught me, and told him about what had happened. Days later, we talked on the phone. He said, “I have been thinking about this more over the last two weeks and thinking what a blessing it will be to meet her and have her bring the gospel to my home island as I brought it to your island. What a blessing. She’ll be like a little girl of mine as long as she’s here.”
Last September, my daughter was serving in the Laie Third Ward, where Brother Underwood was baptized and grew up. He was very happy to visit his old ward and see my daughter, Sister Ledesma. When he saw her, Brother Underwood was filled with joy, realizing that the opportunity to share the gospel with me over 25 years ago had paid off—generations had been changed.
What were the possibilities? It became clear that this was no ordinary mission call. The Lord had prepared our daughter to serve in a place that had special meaning for our family—where missionaries who had changed her parents’ lives lived. It was a tender mercy, a beautiful manifestation that the Lord was aware of our family and His involvement in our lives.

On her way to school, Meg passed the snow-encrusted vacant lot next door. Spotting a crumpled foil candy wrapper under a scraggly shrub, she stooped to retrieve it. Cut into strips, the foil could be used as icicles for their Christmas tree. “If we have a tree,” she muttered.
Dad had lost his job at the plant and in searching for work had moved the family to this new town. They had left many things behind in storage, including their Christmas tree decorations. “It’ll be a lean Christmas,” Dad had tried to prepare them one night after Jenny had been tucked into bed. “There’ll be no need for decorations because there won’t be a tree. I’m sorry.”
Meg had cried. No tree! It would be especially sad, she knew, for her sister, Jenny, who was in kindergarten.
Now Meg pulled her coat tighter against the cold. Longingly she eyed the big pines in the yard next to the vacant lot, then hurried on to school.
That afternoon when she got home, Meg hung her coat on a hook behind the kitchen door and removed the foil from her pocket. She’d smoothed the wrinkles from it and was cutting it into thin strips when Ryan, her younger brother, came in.
“Sort of short icicles aren’t they?” he said. “Anyway, what are you going to use for a tree?”
“I’ll think of something,” Meg answered.
“Su-u-re!” said Ryan.
“The yard on the other side of the vacant lot has beautiful pine trees,” Meg said slowly, putting the strips into a box with others she had collected.
“So? Are you figuring on cutting one down?” Ryan stirred the soup Mom had put on to simmer before going to get Jenny from kindergarten. He licked the spoon, washed it, and went into the living room.
Meg followed. She bustled about, arranging the white knit lap robe on the couch to hide the worn places. “Since Dad’s temporary job is at night, sometime after Mom goes to bed, we could slip over there and cut a few limbs from one of those trees. If we tied the branches together, they’d make a cute little Christmas tree for Jenny.”
Ryan stared at her. “That would be stealing!”
“What’s wrong with people sharing with you?”
“Sis, it isn’t sharing when people don’t know you’re taking.”
Meg sighed. “I know. I just want a tree for Jenny so bad. …” She was setting the table when Mom came in with Jenny.
“Look what I made at school today.” Jenny proudly held up an angel for them to admire. It was made from a straight wooden clothespin. Its robe, a scrap of white satin, was draped over pipe-cleaner arms. A string of tiny glass beads gathered the robe at the waist.
“See the halo?” Jenny turned the angel to show gold braid against white yarn hair. “Miss Grant said we could bring ours home for our Christmas trees.”
“It’s beautiful!” Meg looked meaningfully at Ryan over Jenny’s head.
She didn’t mention the tree to Ryan again, but Meg thought of it constantly. One day after an art project, she found some fat, fuzzy red and green yarn scraps in the wastebasket. She took them home. A week before Christmas a friend gave her a package of assorted fruit-flavored candies. She saved those too.
Every day Jenny asked why they didn’t have a tree. “All the other kids have told about their trees at Show and Tell,” she complained one day after supper.
“Don’t worry Jenny,” Meg said comfortingly. “We’ll soon have a tree—I promise.”
Mom shook her head sadly as Jenny went to bed early. “I’m going to bed too. Don’t stay up late, you two.”
Meg gathered the dishes from the table while Ryan took care of the food. “I’m getting Jenny a tree tonight, Ryan. Are you coming?”
“Sis, are you sure you want to do this?”
“Jenny needs a Christmas tree, and I promised her one.”
As soon as she was sure that Mom was asleep, Meg got her coat.
Ryan slipped into his jacket, too, and got his Scout knife. “I’ll cut—you carry the limbs.”
Rain turning to sleet stung Meg’s face as they crept past the vacant lot under the dim glow of the streetlights.
They paused outside the yard next to the vacant lot. When Ryan pushed open the gate, the hinges creaked. Meg’s heart thumped painfully in her throat.
Under a thick pine, Ryan reached for a wet branch. The wind was forcing icy rain down Meg’s neck. She suddenly sobbed, “We can’t do this, Ryan! You’re right. It isn’t sharing if people don’t know you’re taking.”
With Ryan following her, she stumbled up the steps to the house and knocked hard on the door. The door opened, and a man stood in the soft light. “What in the world are you kids doing out on a night like this?”
Trembling, Meg told about how Dad had lost his job and how Jenny needed a Christmas tree.
Ryan stammered a request to cut a couple of pine boughs to make a Christmas tree for his little sister.
“I’d be glad to give you some boughs for your sister,” said the man. He grabbed his coat, got some pruning shears from his garage, and went into the yard. Soon both children’s arms were filled with fragrant pine boughs.
With many thanks, Meg and Ryan left.
At home, they wired the branches together. They made a perfect little tree! Meg found a fat green vase for it and set it on a small table. She put Jenny’s angel on the topmost bough, then she and Ryan used snips of green and red yarn to hang the candies Meg had saved. Ryan draped longer lengths of yarn around the tree in splendid garlands, while Meg hung her foil icicles. “I wish we had something to put around the bottom,” she said.
Grinning, Ryan took the lap robe from the couch and handed it to her with a flourish.
Meg draped it gracefully around the bottom of the vase. She and Ryan sat and admired the tree for a while.
Ryan soon yawned and went to bed, but Meg sat still, thinking how the tree, with its angel on top, was a reminder of the birthday of Jesus. Suddenly she had the most wonderful feeling. It was more than the good feeling of having kept her promise to Jenny—it was a feeling that everything would be all right.

In 1982, we moved to Hemel Hempstead (Hertfordshire). The meetings were now consolidated, and I stayed for the whole three hours. I was called as the elders quorum president. An elderly missionary couple were assigned to visit my home, and for the first time Rajinder said a prayer and felt the Spirit. I subsequently baptised her. We were later sealed in the London England Temple with our children.

I went to a bookstore with my mom, and she said I could pick out one book for myself. I found a book I liked in the kids’ section. My mom read the back of the book and decided that I could get it. When we got home, I couldn’t wait to start reading my new book. It was so good I couldn’t stop reading it. I was close to the middle when something unexpected happened. There was a bad word! I had a feeling I should tell my mom, but I didn’t think it was a big deal. So I kept reading. When I was on the next page, the feeling came to me again. This time it was stronger. I showed my mom the bad word. We returned the book to the bookstore. I found a different book that I really liked, and it had nothing bad in it. I had a great time reading it.
I am so glad I listened to the Holy Ghost. If I hadn’t, then I’d probably feel horrible right now. Sometimes one simple word can hurt you. My mom and dad are proud of me for telling them. I felt great that day!

Imagine a concert featuring 20 of the best young musicians in a major metropolitan area, all performing barefoot! That’s what happened during Zack Clark’s Eagle Scout service project. He organized a concert to benefit children in need of footwear, and the musicians decided to emphasize the point by going without shoes or socks while they were on stage.
Admission to the concert was a pair of new shoes or socks, and 235 pairs of socks, 91 pairs of shoes, and other articles of clothing were donated for a local children’s home. Scouts from Zack’s troop distributed flyers promoting the event, served as ushers, prepared snacks, set up for the concert, and delivered items to the shelter, contributing more than 700 hours of service.

Not long ago, while riding in a plane, I engaged in conversation with a young man who was seated beside me. We moved from one subject to another, and then came to the matter of religion. He said that he had read considerably about the Mormons, that he had found much to admire in their practices, but that he had a definite prejudice concerning the story of the origin of the Church and particularly Joseph Smith. He was an active member of another organization, and when I asked where he had acquired his information, he indicated that it had come from publications of his church. I asked what company he worked for. He proudly replied that he was a sales representative for IBM. I then asked whether he would think it fair for his customers to learn of the qualities of IBM products from a Xerox representative. He replied with a smile, “I think I get the point of what you’re trying to say.”

I took from my case a copy of the Doctrine and Covenants and read to him the words of the Lord expressed through Joseph Smith, words which are the source of those practices my friend had come to admire in us while disdaining the man through whom they had come. Before we parted, he agreed to read the literature I would send to him. I promised him that if he would do so prayerfully he would know the truth not only of these doctrines and practices which have interested him, but also of the man through whom they were introduced. I then gave him my testimony of my conviction concerning the prophetic calling of Joseph Smith.

The Secuya family live in a mountainous part of Cebu, with the parents working as farm caretakers to support their brood of five. On weekends, the entire household puts on formal clothes and shoes and start trekking . . . up to twelve kilometers to reach the Busay 2nd Ward meetinghouse of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“It’s important we go to church every Sunday, because we learn a lot listening to the words of Jesus Christ,” shares Richelle Secuya. Together with her other siblings and parents, Richelle walks through upland paths and then takes off her footwear to ford through streams, after which she and her family wait for a public utility vehicle that brings them to church.
As they attend sacrament meeting, the Secuyas feel a different kind of fulfillment. “We know that Heavenly Father is happy when we are at church, which is His House,” Richelle’s brother Ryle smiles.
Still, the family knows the challenges of keeping the Lord’s command to renew their baptismal covenants as they keep the Sabbath day holy. “I remember our worst experience,” recalls Mitzi Secuya, the siblings’ mother, “we had to walk three to four hours, which we did for a month.”
At one point, the long trek became almost unbearable for her children. “There were times when they would say they were tired from walking and walking,” she admits, “but we still continued because our Sunday would not be complete if we went to church without them.”
The winding ways Sister Secuya and her family traverse reflect her journey in bringing her family to walk the covenant path together. At first, Sister Secuya was the only Church member in the family, but she had become less active.
Then, one day, she saw the full- time missionaries. “I’m a member of the Church, come please,” Mitzi excitedly called them out. The missionaries set an appointment with the family, and invited them to hear about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
At first, Richard Secuya wasn’t that receptive to the missionaries, but as he thought of his wife and children, he became more responsive to the promptings of the Spirit. The entire family became members of the Church, and were sealed for time and all eternity in the temple.
“I know the Lord will not forsake us if we come to Him,” Brother Secuya testifies, “and it is truly wonderful that we are now members of the Church. He really is mindful of us.”

You wouldn’t guess polynomials and chlorofluorocarbons were lurking in Syndi’s brain by observing her. Curled up on the family’s couch, 15-year-old Syndi Nettles of Roy, Utah, looks like any other teenager with blonde, shoulder-length hair cropped at the sides, clear complexion, and radiant smile. She chats easily and with quiet assurance. Her mother says she’s always surrounded by boys. It’s easy to believe. But most likely they are talking about science or her inventions.
“I feel more comfortable around boys,” she admits. “I guess we have more in common. Girls are usually too busy worrying about their hair or guys. I like to look nice, but I won’t get up at 4:00 A.M. to do it. My girlfriends often ask who I’m talking to and if this one or that one is my boyfriend.” She rolls her eyes, “Hardly.”
Boys are great, but for now there are more important considerations. Her eyes light up at the mention of future inventions or past science trips. “I can’t wait to get started on this year’s science fair project,” she says. “It’s going to be so neat. But I can’t say what it is.”
It smacks of cloak and dagger, but original inventions must be guarded. Her solar tracker, “The Searcher,” which won first place honors in state as well as international competition, has been the subject of much scrutiny each place it has been displayed.
“I watched people copy down every word I’d written on my display,” says Syndi in amazement. “In Montreal, representatives from some companies came to see it. I should have had it patented, but it costs too much money.”
“The Searcher” is an original creation designed to keep the energy of the sun at a maximum for solar collectors to heat homes. It consists of a satellite dish with a rod in the middle. If the dish is not positioned perfectly to take full advantage of the sun (due to the rotating earth) the shadow of the rod falls on sensors in the dish which automatically correct its position. Keeping the dish aimed directly at the sun produces optimum power.
The reason Syndi is toying with world energy issues while most girls her age are plotting tomorrow’s outfit is partially due to her unconventional upbringing. Her father is a talented engineer. Growing up she hung around the garage with her dad building model planes and go-carts.
When she wasn’t helping Dad, she was and still is expected to shoulder much of the responsibility around the house and care for her four younger brothers and sisters. Syndi’s mother has multiple sclerosis, a disease she’s had since before Syndi was born.
“Syndi’s been forced to become more mature because of my health problems,” says her mother, Wanda. “But we’ve tried to distribute the burden equally among the children.”
“Oh, yeah?” says Syndi, good-naturedly. “When you’re in the hospital, the other kids don’t do anything.” Syndi and Wanda begin to laugh.
It was during sixth grade that Syndi’s interest in science was piqued by school experiments. “We did stuff like grow crystals and turn eggs to rubber in vinegar,” she recalls. “I loved it.” In seventh grade her experiments became a tad more sophisticated. She built a direct current motor as part of an assigned science project.
“Dad was terrified I was going to electrocute myself,” she says with a grin. “I didn’t, but I have come close. See.” Syndi thrusts out her hand to show a tiny scar.
Her mother said, “I had no idea Syndi had all this potential. In seventh and eighth grades, she just exploded.”
But it was in ninth grade where Syndi began leaping tall buildings and winning awards faster than a speeding bullet. Her solar tracker alone won four first-place awards—one at the Utah State Science Fair and three at the International Science Fair in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. She was invited to the Idaho National Engineering Laboratory for a week; the Solar Energy Research Institute for four days; the Colorado School of Mines, Energy, and Minerals Field Institute for six days; the Jet Propulsion Laboratories in Pasadena, California, for four days; and most recently the World Energy Congress Conference in Montreal for eight days. Her trips were all paid for by the U.S. Department of Energy, NASA, or other government agencies.
Representatives from 93 nations attended the conference in Montreal to which youth were invited. Of the approximately 80 young people in attendance from countries around the world, Syndi was one of only a handful of girls. She also had the distinction of being the youngest in attendance.
“It was great,” she says with excitement, “except I don’t speak French, and they kept serving me wine. Someone finally told me to turn my glass upside down, and I wouldn’t be served.”
According to Syndi, she’s learned far more in the past year than just biotechnology, hydropower, and fossil energy. “I’ve learned a whole lot about everything!”
She returns from each conference ten to fifteen pounds heavier. Not from junk food, but from the reams of printed material she lugs home. “Boxes of it,” says Wanda. “And she really reads it.”
She also enjoys discussing each conference with her father, who is still one step ahead. The other day she and her dad had a heated discussion about the ozone layer while pushing Wanda through the grocery store in her wheelchair.
And it’s her mother who has introduced Syndi to another world—art and literature. Syndi has taken to it just as she has with science. She has won awards at her high school for her poetry.
If it’s not global monitoring Syndi’s batting around, it might be Nephi and the brass plates. Religion seems to crop up wherever she is. After her first few trips she decided there were two things she couldn’t leave home without—her Book of Mormon and Church pamphlets.
“The people I’ve met seem to respect my beliefs,” says Syndi, “and no one has tried to pressure me to do things I don’t believe in. Many have made an effort not to swear around me. One night I stayed up really late explaining the Church.”
Dedicated to the gospel, Syndi has read the Old Testament, Pearl of Great Price, and Doctrine and Covenants. She has also read the Book of Mormon three times and the New Testament twice.
Syndi wishes more girls would join her in the math and science arena. Only a small percentage of the nation’s students are going into the technological fields, a fact which has not escaped the notice of many large corporations and government agencies concerned about the nation’s future.
“I know the things I enjoy don’t appeal to everyone,” says Syndi. “But there are girls who are being stopped or who are stopping themselves simply because they’re girls, and that’s not right. I’ve never worried that boys would like me less because I’m good at math and science, but I know a lot of girls do. I have a friend who loves chemistry but can’t handle competing with men. I wish girls would realize there’s a lot they could contribute to the field and that being smart in math and science doesn’t make them less appealing. I think it makes them more so because guys can communicate with them better.”
In addition, women often have a different perspective than men, according to Syndi, therefore their voices need to be heard more. “In Montreal, for example, I noticed during a debate that the men tended to hold the economy above ecology and women vice versa. But I think that’s beginning to change.”
With so much sizzle at such a young age, will Syndi burn out?
“Definitely not!” she says. “Every year it gets more interesting and exciting.” Her mother says that when Syndi gets home from a seminar, she’s literally dancing around the room because she is so excited by what she is learning.
Her long-range goals (not necessarily in order) are to earn an engineering degree at Cal Tech on scholarship, be married in the temple, raise a family, and improve the world’s energy outlook.
“I think I can make a difference,” she says simply.

My dad and I started early, loading the woodcutting equipment into the truck well before sunrise and pulling out of the driveway just as the stars began to fade. As we snacked on toast and fruit drinks, we sang Scout songs and laughed at silly things I had done as a child. But as the first rays of sunlight splashed across the pristine Arizona sky, our talk turned to my mission—just two weeks away—and to the realization that this would be our last chance to spend time together like this for two years.
The sun left the horizon as we pulled off the main road and ascended into aspens and pines. An hour later we reached our destination: a small clearing at the top of a cliff overlooking a valley camouflaged in the yellows, reds, and greens of fall.
As I climbed out of the truck and peered over the cliff, my thoughts turned to my mission. Would I see such sights there? Would anything be similar so far from home? The knot that had formed in my stomach the day I opened my call tightened.
My dad quietly stepped up behind me and dropped one of his well-worn hands onto my shoulder.
“Are you ready?” he asked. I knew he was talking about cutting wood, but I instantly thought of my mission. Was I ready? Would I be able to learn Spanish? Would I love the people? Was my testimony strong enough?
The questions gathered around my heart like a great weight, threatening to crush my spirit. And then the memory of the greatest lesson my father had ever taught me leapt into my mind.
Over the years, the memory of that hike and what my father had done for me had faded. But as I stared into the valley that last morning before leaving on my mission, it came rushing back.
In that moment, I saw that my father had shown me an incredible example of how the Savior works. He lets us live our lives and make our own decisions. He lets the weight of the world gather on our shoulders as we face choices and circumstances that test our faith and dedication. And then, when we can go no further, He reaches out with His strong arm and lifts our packs so we can continue on.
Staring into the valley now, I no longer feared the long journey ahead or the trials I would face on my mission or at any other time in my life. I knew that the Lord would always be close behind and that, when I had done all I could, He would reach out and lift my pack.

I have been speaking of institutional frontiers. Of course, there are also personal, spiritual frontiers for each of us individually. I remember a time when Sister Gilbert and I were living in Boston and President Hinckley extended a challenge to the whole Church to read the Book of Mormon by the end of the year.[7] Sister Gilbert and I had already been searching for direction in several career choices, and we took this invitation as a gift to go further in our own efforts to be close to the Spirit. It was during this very season that we received an unplanned call from Elder Kim B. Clark to consider coming to BYU-Idaho. In hindsight, Christine and I believe we were ready for such an invitation because we were searching for the frontier in our own lives. Each of you will have opportunities to go to your own spiritual frontiers. Remember, the Lord's pioneers go to the frontier. They are not satisfied to stay where they are or to stay who they are. The Lord's pioneers change, they repent, and they go to the hard places the Lord needs them to go.

My great-grandfather was John Pack, one of the early members of the Church. One day he and his wife were surrounded by a mob of Mormon haters, and he was told to make a terrible choice: either he could say that he did not believe in the restored gospel and the Prophet Joseph Smith, or he would be shot on the spot. John Pack stood up straight, looked the men in the eye, and bore a strong testimony of the gospel and of the Prophet. One by one the members of the mob sneaked away, and the leader of the mob could get no one to carry out the evil deed.
John Pack, even at the threat of his life, chose the right and bore testimony of the truth. Ever since I first learned of that story, I have hoped that I would be willing, no matter what the temptation, to stand for what I know to be true and to always choose the right. John Pack’s example has been a source of strength for me.

Another five years passed, and I came to stay at my parents’ home while I was changing employment. My father was the ward mission leader, and every afternoon the missionaries would visit him briefly to update and coordinate plans. One day they asked him, “Who is that young man there?”
He said, “That’s my older son.”
“Is he a member?”
“No.”
“We need to talk with him.”
But I said, “No, I’m not interested.”
Then one day my father agreed to let the missionaries teach a lady in our home. They came around 5:00 in the afternoon and began teaching her—and they knew that I was in the next room making a sandwich before leaving to see my friends. They taught about a boy prophet—Joseph Smith—and the First Vision. And from the other room, I listened.
When I eventually left the house, the Spirit started to work in my heart and some questions came into my mind: “Why don’t you do what the sisters taught this lady? Why don’t you study the history of Joseph Smith and ask the Lord if he was a prophet?” And I said to myself, “I’m happy. I’m doing good things. I don’t need it.” But the Spirit started to wrestle with me, and I decided not to see my friends that night. I went back home.
I asked my mom, “Where can I read the history of Joseph Smith?” She gave me her scriptures and showed me the Joseph Smith—History, and I read and prayed. I read the first paragraph, pondered, and asked Heavenly Father if what’s there is true. I did this with every paragraph until I completed the whole thing. My heart was anxious for an answer. I read and prayed all night, until 9:20 the next morning.
The Lord revealed to me that Joseph Smith was a prophet. I had a very sacred experience. As I finished praying, I promised that I would find the missionaries and be baptized because I had this sure knowledge.
I told the sisters, “I need to be baptized now.” They explained the lessons I needed to have and commitments I needed to make. But I said, “I don’t want to lose a single day with the knowledge that the Lord has given me that Joseph Smith was a prophet.”
The sisters called their zone leader. He agreed to an accelerated schedule for the lessons. He scheduled the baptismal interview and told me he’d also need to talk to the ward mission leader, and I said, “Don’t worry, I’ll talk with the ward mission leader. He’s my daddy. He’s been praying for years for me to be baptized.”
My baptism was an experience I will remember forever. What a sweet and wonderful feeling. I felt that I was a new man. I was clean. I felt so close to God, and I was very happy.

Our stake president gave our stake a challenge to find family names to take to the temple. It was called a 40-day challenge because we had 40 days to find the names. During the challenge I went to FamilySearch.org.
As I was looking at my ancestors, I got this feeling that I never had before. I felt that some of my ancestors did not have their temple work done. The next thing I did was look for them on my family tree. After a while I found one ancestor who needed temple work. After that I found more ancestors needing temple work.
After a little bit I found five families needing temple work. After I found all the names, I got a warm feeling in my heart. Now my parents have family names to take to the temple. I fulfilled the stake president’s challenge to find one or more ancestors that need their temple work done.
Even though I am seven years old, I am still a good example. I still have that feeling, and I am still looking for ancestors that need temple work done. This is the best experience I have ever had, and I will never forget how I felt.

When I was walking home from school with my friend, she said that one of my classmates was mean. The person she was talking about was my friend. I thought, “That is not nice.” Then I said to her, “Jesus says love everyone.” In Primary the music leader taught us that we should be kind to everyone, even those we don’t like or those we think are different. Because of the songs I am learning in Primary, I knew the right thing to say to my friend.

This past year a group of engineering students was asked to come up with a solution to a serious air pollution problem in Mongolia. In 2016 there were more than 3,000 deaths in Mongolia attributable to air pollution–caused diseases; the majority of victims were children under the age of five. One of the principal sources of the pollution is the tons of coal that Mongolians burn each year to heat their traditional homes, known as gers, or yurts. After the BYU students were given the assignment to solve that problem, here is what happened to them as a result:

Alternating Voices (Ivy Running, Austin Boyce, Dylan Sellers, Ivy Running, Austin Boyce, Ivy Running): When we began this project, we didn’t expect to go see the Mongolian countryside, to be on national television, to be taking Mongolian lessons from ten-year-olds, to meet the prime minister, to be so cold.
Ivy Running: We didn’t expect that we would be making friends halfway across the world.
Dylan Sellers: Ulaanbaatar is the coldest capital in the whole world.
Ivy Running: One of the biggest problems in Ulaanbaatar is the air pollution. Most of the pollution in the winter comes from the ger districts. Ger is the Mongolian word for yurt, which is their traditional tent. Coal stoves are some of the only sources of heat that these people have in the winter.
Elder Peter F. Meurs [Deseret International Charities]: Everyone is breathing this smoke-filled air. As we started to look at that problem, we thought maybe we could do something about it. So we approached the BYU Capstone team and said, “Here is the problem. Can you solve it?”
Dylan Sellers: There are two teams here in Capstone that are trying to solve the same problem. The solution that we landed on was an electric heater that would replace the coal-burning stove.
Adjunct Professor Amy Wood: With the current insulation they have—the felt—it would take about six electric heaters to produce enough heat to keep it that warm constantly.
Ivy Running: As we improve the insulation, they will be able to use electricity more for their heating—less coal and less pollution.
Dylan Sellers: It wasn’t until we landed in Mongolia in Ulaanbaatar that we actually understood the scope of our project.
Amy Wood: Because the coal stove is in the center of the home, a lot of those pollutants don’t go up the chimney—they stay within the home.
Dylan Sellers: The World Health Organization standard for PM2.5, or particulate matter, is twenty-five micrograms per cubic meter. The concentration that we measured was over 400 inside the homes of these families.
Amy Wood: One team’s approach was to insulate the current ger so that we could replace the coal stove with an electric heater.
Ivy Running: And then we covered the outside of the ger in a radiant barrier, and what that does is it reflects back the radiative heat that would otherwise be lost.
Amy Wood: It only works if there is a gap of air in between, and so we also used foam to make that gap, and that allows it to reflect back in.
Professor Brian Mazzeo: The students realize that this is real: seeing how the design decisions you made thousands of miles away are actually being implemented in the field.
Alternating Voices (Dylan Sellers, Amy Wood, Dylan Sellers): After we finished our first retrofit, we came back the next morning to test the results. Walking in, we immediately felt a wave of heat hit us. We were able to read the data, and we saw that while it dipped outside below 7 degrees Fahrenheit, inside it stayed a constant 82 degrees Fahrenheit.
Dylan Sellers (to the homeowner of the test ger): So you will save more money every year from now on.
Ivy Running: It worked, and I kind of teared up a little bit. It was really a miracle.
Amy Wood: They were so excited that this thing we had been working on so hard actually worked.
Elder Meurs: We have a real solution, and we have proven that we can modify a ger and heat it for about $400. The next step now is to fully test that solution, and we will do that with 100 to 120 modified gers this summer in preparation for winter testing.
Dylan Sellers: I hope that we not only see the world as our campus but start to see the world’s problems as our problems. Every family we convince, we immediately impact their lives for good. We immediately influence their health and improve their quality of life. And so it is enough if one family adopts this. To expand to tens of thousands of homes retrofitted is the dream.

The last line of the BYU mission statement proclaims our firm belief that “the earnest pursuit of this institutional mission . . . will greatly enlarge Brigham Young University’s influence in a world we wish to improve.”12 I offer this as exhibit A of the fulfillment of what I think is a prophecy. As of the first of this month, Deseret International Charities was ready to launch phase two of the project, with the expectation that they would insulate about 130 gers and build ten alternative structures in the next four weeks. And there are discussions about the potential of having 5,000 to 10,000 gers ready in 2020.

Our ultimate measure of success is the impact on our students—on what happens to them as a result of their time at BYU. Professor Brian Mazzeo, one of the faculty members working with the group in Mongolia, described what can, and will, happen as we combine faith and study in the unique BYU learning process:

Students need to get inspiration as they are actually trying to execute a project like this. There is no way that they have all the information, and so they have to seek inspiration from the Lord. There is no other way. At the same time, I believe that they are trying to inspire others to be able to take solutions out into the world. And, in particular here, it is to inspire others to be able to actually use the designs that they have created. So I see that as a kind of two-fold process of both receiving inspiration and inspiring others. And in the process they are learning so many skills and methods and processes that allow them to be just more effective people—not just as engineers but just more effective as people and citizens of the world in all that they do.

That is what inspiring learning looks like. And the students involved in the project in Mongolia experienced it. One student, Prabhakar Ramaraj, stated:

When you hit a roadblock and . . . don’t know what to do, . . . there are a few things [you rely] on. . . . For a BYU student, those things are . . . knowledge, . . . wisdom, and the spiritual aspect of prayer . . . , trying to receive revelation. . . . On this project [I have] been able to experience those things. . . . We have definitely been inspired.

Another student, Austin Boyce, reported spending several sleepless nights in the Crabtree Building trying to figure out how to build an exterior door that would be both energy efficient and fit into the nonagon structure of a ger. In facing those and other problems, he stated:

We as a team . . . just . . . had a lot of faith, to be honest. . . . [And] we had the whole service center there in Mongolia fasting and praying for us as a team. It was pretty amazing to . . . have everything come together. . . . Our biggest surprise . . . was the . . . impact that [we] had. . . . It is something that we hadn’t even imagined because we were just . . . [some] BYU students trying to fix a problem.

They were just some BYU students trying to fix a problem. Yet in doing that in the BYU way, they blessed the lives of thousands, changed their own lives, and increased their own capacities to serve, forever.

I recall one of my favorite family home evening activities. Dad would invite one of his children to take “The Test.” He would give the child a series of instructions like, “First, go into the kitchen and open and close the fridge. Then run into my bedroom and grab a pair of socks from my dresser. Then come back to me, jump up and down three times, and say, ‘Dad, I did it!’”

I loved it when it was my turn. I wanted to get every step just right, and I cherished the moment when I could say, “Dad, I did it!” This activity helped build my confidence and made it easier for a restless boy to pay attention when Mom or Dad taught a gospel principle.

I was born and raised in a small city in Chile. When I was 12 years old, I saw the missionaries for the first time, and I was curious. Then one day a classmate at school told me that he and his family had become members of the Church. He invited me, and I attended all Sunday meetings and Tuesday activities for several months.

Our branch was new, and because I attended practically from the beginning, everyone thought I was a member. After six months I told one of the missionaries I was not, because I thought the missionaries were interested only in families.

The missionaries tried to involve my family, but my parents and siblings were not interested. They invited me to be baptized, but since I was 12, I needed my parents’ permission. I thought my father would say I needed to wait until I was 18, but he said, “I have seen my son wake up every Sunday morning while his brothers and sisters keep sleeping, dress up in his best clothes, and walk to the chapel. If my son will be responsible with this decision, you have my permission.” I couldn’t believe it. I was in heaven in that moment. So I was baptized the following day.