Gospel Story Finder

When I was growing up, many people were out of work and homeless. The Relief Society president in our small branch was an older woman from Norway. She knew that God wanted her to care for those in need. So she asked her neighbors for old clothes. She washed the clothes and ironed them. Then she put them in cardboard boxes on her back porch. When someone needed clothes, her neighbors would say, “Go to the house down the street. There is a lady there who will give you what you need.”
This sister found out what God wanted her to do, and then she did it! She helped hundreds of Heavenly Father’s children who were in need.

When I was laboring as a young missionary in Norway, my mission president called the missionaries together to tell us we had been asked to sing for two sessions at the 1958 dedication of the London England Temple. I was asked to be the accompanist.
When we arrived at the temple, I discovered to my surprise that I would be playing an organ instead of a piano. I had no experience with this organ, so I had to ask if someone could help me set the stops. Heavenly Father heard my desperate pleas, and a sister came to my rescue, setting the organ for quiet prelude and also for accompanying the choir.
Amid my desperation, I had a calm feeling come over me. And as I played the unfamiliar and unpracticed-on organ, I felt the love of the Savior guiding me. After one choir number, President David O. McKay looked at our mission president and said, “Well done.” I was overcome with emotion at how we had been blessed in our performance. It had been flawless.

In the Japanese translation of the hymn “Called to Serve” (Hymns, no. 249), the English words onward and forward are translated as susume. That word has significant meaning for me because of something that happened a few years ago when I was a stake president in Fukuoka, Japan.
The President of the Church, Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008), was visiting, and I was asked to accompany him. During one meeting, 300 full-time missionaries gathered to listen to the prophet. The Holy Spirit filled the chapel, and many of us shed tears of joy. We sang “Called to Serve” in Japanese, repeating over and over again susume, susume. President Hinckley asked the mission president, seated next to him, “What does susumemean?”
“It means ‘go forward,’” the mission president replied.
The meeting was wonderful. President Hinckley encouraged and motivated the missionaries. Afterward, he waved to them in farewell and left the building. As he got into my car to go back to the hotel, he said one word to me, in Japanese: “Susume!”
That word became a motto for me: “Go forward! Be positive! Face the future with faith!” It is the same message given to the youth of the Church in the concluding section of For the Strength of Youth. After reviewing the blessings that come from obedience to the Lord’s standards, in a section titled “Go Forward with Faith,” it says: “As you do these things, the Lord will make much more out of your life than you can by yourself. He will increase your opportunities, expand your vision, and strengthen you. He will give you the help you need to meet your trials and challenges. You will gain a stronger testimony and find true joy as you come to know your Father in Heaven and His Son, Jesus Christ, and feel Their love for you” ([2011], 43).

The man in the rubber raft was flapping his arms in panic and desperately shouting for help. Tom and Nikki stood on the shore watching him. Trapped in the river’s swift current, the raft was rushing downstream toward an outcropping of jagged rocks.
Pointing toward the danger, Tom yelled to the man, “Drop your anchor! Big rocks ahead! They’ll rip your raft!”
The man in the raft bent over, picked up the end of a rope, and waved it in the air. “My anchor’s gone!” he shouted. “And my outboard’s dead!”
Tom turned toward Nikki. “Those rocks will slice his raft into rubber bands,” he declared.
Nikki grabbed Tom’s arm and looked downriver at the exposed, sharp rocks. “He’ll never get through all that,” she said despairingly.
Tom and Nikki had been heading upstream along the river toward their favorite fishing spot when they first spotted the rubber raft. It was drifting down toward them, and they didn’t know it was out of control. Now the raft was obviously trapped in the rushing water in the middle of the river.
Tom threw down his fishing gear and quickly tried to assess the situation. The raft had swooshed downstream and was now in a position nearly opposite to where Tom and Nikki were standing on the bank.
The man in the raft was working frantically to alter his course away from the jagged rocks. With great effort, he manipulated the flexible rubber sides of the raft. Then he stretched his leg over the side of the raft and finally succeeded in snagging it onto a large flat boulder.
Tom cupped his hands. “Good work!” he called. “Maybe it will hold long enough for us to find a way to help you.”
“It won’t hold very long!” the man shouted back. “I can feel the current tugging. It’s going to push me right off this rock!”
“Try your outboard motor again,” Tom suggested.
“Won’t start!” the man hollered. “I was fishing upstream, and my anchor snagged on some sunken logs! Had to cut loose! When I tried to start up the outboard … nothing!”
“Have you checked your fuel line?” Tom asked.
“I’ve checked everything! It won’t start!”
Nikki glanced toward the rapids again. “Just see how that water is churning,” she said. “There isn’t a calm place anywhere.”
Tom sat on a nearby boulder and began unlacing his boots. “When the raft clears that rock,” he said, “the current will drive the raft straight to disaster. Maybe I can wade out to him.”
“The current’s too strong,” Nikki warned.
Tom slipped off his socks, rolled up his pants, and stepped into the river. Near the shore the river was shallow and the current wasn’t very strong.
“Don’t do it!” the man in the raft shouted. “You’ll never make it!”
About ten feet from shore, Tom paused as his feet stepped down into deeper water. It was up to his knees and he could feel his feet beginning to slide on the slippery rocks because of the swift current. Tom shook his head. “He’s right. I don’t think I can make it,” he admitted half aloud.
Reluctantly, Tom made his way back to shore. “Hold on a little longer!” he shouted to the man. “I have another idea!”
When he got back to shore, Tom picked up his fishing rod and ran back down the trail alongside the river. Nikki followed anxiously. “The raft looks like it’s about to go,” she declared.
Tom glanced at the raft and saw it was teetering on the rock that had snagged it. “Hold on just another minute!” he urged.
“It’s going over!” the man shouted. “I can feel it going!”
At an open place along the shore, Tom halted.
“What are you going to do?” Nikki implored.
“Watch,” Tom answered as he quickly crimped two heavy lead sinkers onto the end of his fishing line. Then he positioned himself firmly on the ground and called, “Watch for the line!”
The rod snapped forward and the line arched out over the river and beyond the raft.
“Grab it!” Tom shouted as the line crossed near the man.
The raft’s weary passenger saw the line and reached for it. “Now what do I do?” he asked. “This light line will never hold me!”
“Fasten the line to the cleat in the bow of your raft!” Tom answered. “Then work the raft off the rock! It’s your only chance!”
Unsure that it would work, the man nevertheless tied the end of the fishing line to the cleat. But then he sought for a last desperate hold on the rock.
“No!” Tom cried. “You’ve got to let go!”
The man hesitated.
“You’ve got to trust me!” Tom insisted. “Let go of the rock!”
The man stared ahead at the dangerous rocks, paused a moment longer, then nodded and proceeded to manipulate the raft’s rubber sides until it slid off the rock.
Tom watched intently, then he reeled in the slack line and was working his rod the way he would if he had caught a huge trout. “Steady now!” he shouted. “Let me control the raft!”
He was reeling in the line as fast as he could without snapping it. “Just a slight tension,” he explained to Nikki. “That’s all I need to get the raft headed toward shore.”
“What if the line breaks?” Nikki asked.
“Nikki,” Tom said softly, “pray that it doesn’t.” Then he shouted to the man in the raft, “Keep your eyes on the water ahead of you! If you see any rocks, push the raft away from them!”
The man leaned over the bow and stared down into the turbulent water. A couple of times he had to reach down into the water to steer the raft away from a threatening submerged rock. Tom was relieved now to see the raft respond to his control on the line. A few more gentle tugs and he expertly guided the raft to a riverbank sandbar just a dozen feet away.
The man jumped ashore, smiling broadly. “If it hadn’t been for your quick work with that rod, I’d be smashed to pieces against those rocks,” he said gratefully, pointing downstream.
“I’m just glad that we happened by with our fishing gear,” Tom said. Then with a grin, he added, “I’d been hoping all morning I’d catch a big one!”

Once while serving as a mission president in Kentucky, I was faced with a direct conflict on family activity and Church activity. The Kentucky Derby was soon to be held, and our family had looked forward to going for weeks. Three days before the big event, the schedule for the Lexington Stake conference was shifted one week forward, and the Saturday leadership meeting was now scheduled for Derby Day. As mission president, I was invited in a midweek phone call from the visiting general authority to be at those sessions.
In the conversation, I told the leader about my previous plan and asked him his opinion. He replied, “Sometimes we just have to choose.” And that is all he said.
What would you have done?
Church work often requires that fathers be away from home. But by setting proper priorities, planning, and delegating, a father can organize himself to be effective in church duties and to be home much more often than he would suppose.
Some fathers who spend undue amounts of time in church callings are proud of these long hours away from home and consider them a sign of dedication. Often it is dedication, but in some cases it is just a way of not going home. Some fathers feel more capable in activities away from home than they do with their families. We should examine ourselves to see if, under the guise of “dedication,” we’ve left to our wives the most important of all causes to which we should be dedicated—our families.
Some feel that if they devote many hours away from family to their church duties, the Lord will compensate by ensuring that all will be well at home. But fathers who are faithful in the Church can and sometimes do have critical problems at home, and one reason may be a lack of father-family experience.
On the other hand, a father who feels successful at home comes out of that home filled with the spirit of love. His heart has been warmed by the home fires of his own family, and he is then able to warm the hearts and souls of his brothers and sisters. A man who devotes sufficient time and energy to family activities and who likewise is dedicated to the Lord and building his Church receives the Spirit of the Lord. It is the Spirit and not endless hours at Church activities away-from-home which brings success in church work.
In my opinion, some Church planning and leadership meetings are far too long. I was once asked by a Church leader, “Are you as a leader punctual in conducting meetings?”
I said, “Yes, I always start meetings on time.”
He said, “But are you punctual?”
I answered again the same way, “We start on time.”
He asked me the same question again, and as I sat looking perplexed he said, “I know that you begin your meetings on time, but do you end them on time?” He added, “End the meeting at the appointed time and let people go home to their families. Those who neglect the appointed quitting time are as much in error as those who neglect the beginning time.”
Sometimes a father will excuse himself for not being home enough by saying, “It isn’t the quantity but the quality of time spent that matters.” There is some truth in this statement for some people, but we must not use it to soothe a conscience that tells us we are too much away from the family.
When I was called to be a mission president, I was fearful that at a most critical time in the lives of my eight children I might not have sufficient time to be a good father. I had determined that being a father was as important a call from the Lord as being a mission president. That meant that even though I would dedicate myself to the mission, I would have to double my dedication as a father.
With that in mind, one of my first important tasks was to tie a big rope to a high limb on the huge ash tree that grew in our front yard and make a swing. With the swing came instant neighborhood friends for our younger children.
A few months after our arrival, we attended a mission presidents’ seminar. Each president was asked what he felt was the best idea he had put into practice so far in his mission. When my turn came, I said, “The best thing I’ve done so far is to build a swing.” Everyone laughed. I described the swing and explained that my major goal was to be a good father and that the swing was my symbol of this priority. The leader sustained my action.
I’ve found that I allow more time for my family if I remind myself that playing with the children is church work. While I was mission president, I would often go to a beautiful amusement park with my family. I would just walk around the park with a smile on my face, holding hands with my children, eating candy.
Once in a while, the thought would enter my mind. “You’re the mission president. You’d better get back to the office.” But then I’d smile again and say to myself, “Well, I’m doing my church work here. I’m with my children and my wife. We’re having a fun day, and tonight I’ll be able to write in my journal that I did six hours of glorious church work today.” I’d eat a little more candy and let the children lead me wherever they wanted to go.
Church work with your family doesn’t mean you leave other church work undone. It merely means that you do both—and you can do both. Some days you can spend a whole day with the children. Other times it will have to be a ten-minute wrestle or one paper airplane constructed after the evening meal.
Some years ago I was serving as a bishop. At the same time I was working on a doctor’s degree at a university and working a full-time job. I was under some strain, fearing that because of my desire to succeed in so many areas I was really failing as a father.
One Sunday evening I stayed late at church to complete some work. As I walked into the chapel to turn off the lights before going home, I suddenly felt lonely. I felt that my back would not bear for another day the heavy burdens I was carrying.
I fell to my knees near the pulpit and cried to the Lord. I poured out the feelings of my soul to him and described in detail my seemingly insurmountable tasks. When I finished I remained kneeling. And then I heard the Spirit speak to me in my heart. The answer it gave me was all I needed. It said just three things: Go forward. Do your best. Love your family.
I arose a new man.
Since then, whenever specific conflicts have come up between my family and church work, I’ve remembered those words and followed the advice given me years ago in Kentucky by a great Church leader—“Sometimes you just have to choose.”
Perhaps the only mistake we really make is when we choose one way over the other all of the time.

When your faith is questioned every day, you have to decide pretty quickly which side of the line you’re on. Allison McEwen of Houston High School says, “When I was younger and my peers questioned things, I doubted too. But by going to the Lord in prayer, I found the answers that made me stronger. After I found out for myself that the Church was true, their questions didn’t bother me anymore.”
As the student body president, Allison gets a lot of questions about Church. “I like to be different,” she says. “The Church is something positive that definitely puts me aside from the rest.” Even in the face of difficult questions from friends, she knows that the Lord is aware of her and is willing to help her find the answers, and that has been a great blessing.

A missionary district leader was wondering why Elder Parker, who was about to conclude his mission, was successful in spite of his inability to memorize the discussions. To understand, he teamed with Elder Parker to give a discussion. Elder Parker’s presentation was so disorganized that by the end of the formal lesson, the district leader was confused and surmised that the family being taught felt the same way.
It was then that “Elder Parker leaned forward and put his hand on the arm of the family’s father. He then looked him straight in the eyes, told him how much he loved him and his family, and bore one of the most humble and powerful testimonies that the district leader had ever heard. By the time he finished, every member of the family, including the father, and both elders had tears running down their cheeks. Next Elder Parker taught the father how to pray, and they all knelt down while the father prayed that they might receive testimonies of their own and thanked Heavenly Father for the great love that he felt. Two weeks later the whole family was baptized.”
Later, Elder Parker apologized to his district leader for not knowing the discussions. He said he struggled with memorization, even though he spent hours each day working on it. He said he knelt in prayer before teaching each family and asked Heavenly Father to bless him when he bore his testimony so that people would feel his love and the Spirit and know they were being taught the truth (see Allan K. Burgess and Max H. Molgard, “That Is the Worst Lesson I’ve Ever Heard!” in Sunshine for the Latter-day Saint Soul [1998], 181–83).

The snow was falling hard as I slowly drove up the hill. If I could just get to the top, I thought, I could make it home safely. But as I negotiated a curve, I saw a downhill car swerving out of control and coming straight at me. I had time only to scream before the impact, and then I blacked out.
I had no sense of how much time had passed when I tried to open my eyes. The snow bit at my face as it blew in through a shattered side window. I struggled to remember basic information, like where I had been going before the accident. Alone and frightened, I cried out from the throbbing pain in my shoulder and chest. I pleaded with Heavenly Father that my injuries wouldn’t be too extensive and that I would be all right.
A few moments later I felt a hand holding mine. Instinctively, I grasped it. I opened my eyes and saw a man in a black coat and hat standing outside my crushed car. He said his wife had seen the crash from their home, and he came to see if he could help. He held my hand and told me I would be OK.
I tried to ask the man if he was a Latter-day Saint, but all I could whisper was, “Can you give me a blessing?”
He said yes and then reached through the broken window and placed his hands on my head.
I don’t remember what he said. But I remember thinking that I would be all right because I had received a blessing. I felt peace and comfort.
When the ambulance arrived, I lost track of the man. A few hours later I left the hospital with a broken rib and many bumps and bruises but no serious injuries.
That morning I had prayed that I would travel in safety, and at first I thought Heavenly Father hadn’t answered my prayer. But I soon realized that He had and that He had not left me alone. My prayer was answered through a willing priesthood holder who lived just a few steps away from the site of my accident, an accident which could have left me in a much more serious condition.
I wouldn’t recognize the man’s face if I passed him on the street. I wouldn’t remember his voice if I heard him say hello. But I am grateful for this stranger who was worthy and willing to administer a priesthood blessing when I needed one.

At the beginning of my eighth-grade year, I went with my mom and brother to close and clean a laundromat that was located across the street from my school. There was a girls’ volleyball game going on. We were almost through cleaning when the game was finished, and people were all over the place. A few of the students had discovered some wet cement. They got all excited and wanted to scratch their initials in the cement. My friends wanted me to go with them to put our initials in the cement too. I had to check with my mom.
“Hey, Mom. There’s a new sidewalk out here and everybody’s putting their initials in the wet cement,” I said. “Can I go for a few minutes and do it too?”
“If everyone puts their initials in it, don’t you think it will ruin the sidewalk?”
“I don’t think so. I’ll just go see what’s going on.”
I took off before my mom could say anything more. By the time I got to the wet cement, there was quite a crowd. My friends wrote their names, and I was about to kneel down and put mine in too. Then I noticed a lot of bad words had been scratched in. Actually the whole sidewalk looked like a mess of words and drawings. Suddenly I didn’t feel good about writing my initials in the sidewalk, and I started to back away.
My buddies coaxed me to put my name in. They said it would be fun to look at years from now. They even called me chicken. But I didn’t scratch my name or my initials in that wet cement. And the next day I was glad.
During third period, our principal’s voice came over the intercom. He asked certain students to come to the office. One of my football buddies was in third period with me, and he was one of them. They were calling in students with names and initials from the sidewalk. The sidewalk was ruined. The city crew was going to tear it out and replace it that day. The students involved had to call their parents to come to school. They also had to help pay for the new section of walk—about $60 each.
I was so happy I hadn’t written anything in the wet cement. But I couldn’t believe what happened next. The girls on the volleyball team and the guys on the football team who’d written in the cement were suspended from their teams for the rest of the season. I was sick for them, but as bad as I felt for my friends, I was happy that I had backed away from the cement. I was glad when things got tense that I made the right choice.

Once during the Chukwurahs’ mission, while Christopher was away on assignment, their young son Uchenna grew so sick that Florence thought he would die. “I had no hope anywhere except from the Lord,” she said. As she held Uchenna in her arms, Florence prayed fervently for healing and received impressions about how to care for him. As she followed the promptings, Uchenna’s health improved. “The Lord saved him,” she affirmed.

Raúl and his family live in the small Paraguayan town of Piquete Cué. In the nearby town of Limpio, there is a beautiful LDS meetinghouse where a ward meets. But each Sunday, Raúl and his family pass the Limpio Ward meetinghouse on their two-hour bus ride to the town of Villa Hayes. There they attend a tiny branch that meets in a small rented house. Why don’t they go to the ward that is so much closer to their home?
“Because,” said Raúl’s father, Luciano, who works as an industrial engineer, “there are so few members in the Villa Hayes Branch that they really need us there.” Brother Aquino is first counselor in the branch presidency. Sister Aquino has been Relief Society president and now teaches a Primary class.
Raúl attends Primary and loves to learn more about the Book of Mormon. “I don’t know how to read it yet,” he said. “But my mamá and papá read it to me.”
Raúl often bears his testimony in sacrament meeting. He told the branch members recently that he’d had a headache, but when he prayed, it went away.
He also remembers the time his dad was seriously sick. Raúl’s mother thought he was going to die. She rode a bus to where the missionaries lived to ask them to give him a blessing. They weren’t home, so she left them a message. When they arrived several hours later, Raúl’s father was so sick that he could hardly talk. The missionaries gave him a blessing, and within half an hour, he was up and feeling much better.
“I really want my eighth birthday to come so I can be baptized,” Raúl said. “And I want to be a missionary.”
Raúl already is a missionary. “I know that the Book of Mormon and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are true,” he said. “I would tell the children all over the world to love everyone—especially the children in the streets who don’t have a home. They make me cry a lot. Be thankful to Heavenly Father and also to your parents. Love the Church, take the sacrament, and always pray.”
Then Raúl climbed up his favorite tree. From his leafy perch, he waved good-bye.

Fabian is also helping with an elder’s quorum project. There is a sister in their branch whose husband died five years ago. Later she joined the Church. Her family disowned her and refused to help her and her two daughters. The branch is building them a home. Fabian helps work on the house with the elders. Sometimes the full-time missionaries and the young people in the branch also help. Fabian shovels sand to make cement, and under the direction of the elders, he helps with the building and cleaning up. He is happy when he is helping others.

Sister Kearon and I have a particular sensitivity and great compassion for Israel and Elizabeth. Our first child, a boy named Sean, died during heart surgery when he was just three weeks old. This was an earth-shattering loss for us. At the time, we wondered if we could survive. We buried him in a painfully small grave in England. Fifteen years later, our family was asked to move from our home in the United Kingdom to serve full time in the Church, and we left that little grave behind.
We didn’t lose our baby on the trek west, and we didn’t suffer the incomprehensible hardships of the Barlows, but we have the beginning of an understanding of what they went through. Our baby boy’s grave is very far away, yet like the Barlows, we have abiding faith in the Resurrection of Jesus Christ and the eternal nature of our family through the holy sealing covenant.

For years, Aarika’s grandparents Raymond and Marilyn Perez supported Aarika and her brother, Aaron, as they went to church. But becoming members themselves wasn’t in the Perez’s plans. “I’m not going to become a Mormon,” Marilyn would tell her granddaughter. And the granddaughter would just smile because she had other ideas.
When Aaron left as a missionary to the Chile Santiago South Mission, Aarika began inviting her grandparents to church, and the Perezes accepted the invitations. Meanwhile Aaron wrote them letters from the mission field.
“And when Aaron got home from his mission, things got more and more serious about the Church,” Aarika recalls. Not long after that, what they said wouldn’t happen did. Raymond and Marilyn were baptized in December 1999.

Anastasia, a young mother in Ukraine, was in the hospital having just given birth to a baby boy as the bombings began in Kyiv this past February. A nurse opened the hospital room door and said with an urgent voice, “Take your baby, wrap him in a blanket, and go into the hall—now!”

Later, Anastasia commented:
“I never imagined my first days of motherhood would be so difficult, … but … I am focusing on … the blessings and miracles I have seen. …
“Right now, … it might seem impossible to ever forgive those who have caused so much destruction and harm … , but as a disciple of Christ, I have faith that I will be able to [forgive]. …
“I don’t know all that will happen in the future … but I know that keeping our covenants will allow the Spirit to be with us continually, … allowing us to feel joy and hope, … even during difficult times.”

Ben Twigger loves good things. Even from a young age, he received good grades in school, attended early morning seminary in his hometown in Northampton, England, and enjoyed studying the Book of Mormon. He also loved sports and became the 800- and 400-meter racing champion for his county, despite not taking part in the Sunday league trials.
Having been raised in the Church, Ben always planned on serving a full-time mission. “When I saw missionaries serving in our ward and visiting in our home, I knew deep down that being a missionary was what I wanted to become,” he says.
However, it wasn’t until Ben started planning for college that everything he loved collided. Ben decided at an early age that he would like to attend Cambridge University, one of the world’s foremost universities. Ben achieved A levels in six subjects—well above the minimum requirement for admission to Cambridge. In fact, Ben was the top-performing student in his city the year he applied. Yet despite his eagerness to learn from world-class scientists, Ben resolved early on to request a two-year deferment so that he could serve a mission. However, when he checked out the university prospectus for maths and maths-based subjects, he discovered that even a one-year deferment was strongly discouraged.
“I was not daunted and applied anyway,” Ben says. He received an interview, even though he was informed that the university application system does not allow for such a deferment.
Despite his hopeful attitude, Ben was denied admission. Although the reason for the denial was not specifically stated in the letter, his tutor assumed it was a result of the two-year deferment he had requested and the subsequent loss of skills the university felt it would cause.
“When I received a letter from Cambridge informing me of their decision, I felt very disappointed, as it had been a long-term goal, but I felt determined to serve the Lord regardless of the sacrifices it would require.”
Ben was called to serve in the France Toulouse Mission. He had a wonderful experience, bringing souls unto Christ and serving with other spiritually prepared missionaries. During his mission, Ben admits, he learned a valuable lesson about faith and about putting that faith into practice.
“However much God wants to help us, unless we believe and act accordingly, He cannot help us,” Ben says. “But when we act in faith and put in the necessary works, small and great miracles can occur.”
Toward the end of his mission Ben started thinking about his future studies. He was initially nervous to reapply for admission to Cambridge after his mission. But he was reminded of the invaluable lessons he had learned on his mission, as well as a scripture he had learned as a child. “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart” (Proverbs 3:5). Even though Ben could have applied to go straight to another university, he decided to take the time necessary to study and prepare so that he could apply again to Cambridge. Within two weeks of returning home, he was studying full-time to refresh his skills.
After successfully completing the verbal and written tests required for the interview, Ben received an offer to study natural sciences, specializing in physics, a four-year master’s degree program at Cambridge starting exactly one year after his return from his mission.
“I do consider my acceptance as a direct result of putting the Lord first and obeying His commandments,” Ben says. “I know that because I trusted in the Lord, I was blessed with the righteous desires of my heart.”

I want to mention a little incident that happened to me in the temple in Salt Lake City. As I walked down the long hall preparing to go into one of the rooms to perform a marriage for a young couple, a woman followed me out of the room after the ceremony. With great agitation, she asked, “Elder Kimball, do you re member me?” I was abashed. It seemed incredible but I could not make the connection. I was much embarrassed, as I had met thousands of people in my time. I finally said, “I’m sorry, but I cannot remember you.” Instead of disappointment, there was a great joy that came into her face. She was relieved. She said. “Oh, I am so grateful you can’t remember me. With my husband, I spent all night with you one time, while we were trying to change our lives. We had committed sin and we were struggling to get rid of it. You labored all night to help us clear it.” She said, “We have repented and changed our lives totally. I am glad you don’t remember me, because if you, one of the apostles, cannot remember me, maybe the Savior cannot remember my sins.” Her face was relieved. She said, “Thank you. Maybe the Lord will remember them no more.” The scriptures say if our sins are totally repented of, and if we totally change our lives, he will remember them no more. (Amsterdam priesthood session, August 7, 1976, p. 6.)

In my school class I have become friends with a boy who is often teased because of the way he looks. One afternoon we were getting ready for our third-grade musical. All the boys were left in the classroom while the teacher and the girls went to change. Some of the boys in the class started picking on my friend until all the boys were gathered around him, teasing him. I stood up and told them to stop and to leave my friend alone. They all stopped. Even though it was hard to stand up and say what I did, it made me feel good. I think this is what Jesus wanted me to do.

Bridging the gap between two stakes, between groups of friends, between the unsure and the self-assured, between the host ward families and youth, and even between here and hereafter played a major part in the combined Reading Pennsylvania and Wilmington Delaware stakes youth conference. Instead of visiting a local college campus as they had done in the past, the youth conference committee elected to try something a little different—a bed-and-breakfast approach. Some of the youth approached the new plan with apprehension, but as things fell into place, they couldn’t have been more pleased.
“The reason we went along with the bed-and-breakfast idea was the economy of it,” Heather Segely, 16, of the Allentown Pennsylvania Ward said. “We all had a vote. I thought, Oh, no, I don’t want to stay with somebody. I liked the dorms. It was kind of a tradition.”
But midway through the conference, Heather changed her mind. “Since everyone else voted in favor of the idea, I went along with it. I’m really glad I did because I’m having the best time. The host families are wonderful. Everyone seems to like where they are staying. It’s good for a group of youth to get together in one house, then you get to know ten people instead of one roommate.”

It was dusk as Micah knelt beside his bed with his younger brother, Noah, to say their prayers. He was still thinking about their neighbor, an older man named Sam. Just then Mom appeared in the doorway.
“I’m glad you two are going to say your prayers,” she said, smiling at the two brothers.
“I’m going to include Sam in my prayers tonight,” Micah said. “I’m going to ask him to come to church with us on Sunday, and I want Heavenly Father’s help when I ask him.”
“Do you think he will come to church with us?” Noah asked. “Our Primary teacher told us that Heavenly Father will be pleased when we invite our neighbors to go to church.”
“I know that Heavenly Father will help you ask Sam,” Mom said.
The next morning Micah and Noah awoke early. They were excited to talk with Sam. Sam had lived next door to Micah and Noah’s family long before Micah and Noah were born. Micah knew Sam had been very lonely since his wife died.
The boys made their beds without being reminded and quickly ate their breakfast before heading out the door.
“Are you scared?” Noah asked Micah.
“No. I think Sam is going to say yes,” Micah replied. “Well, maybe I’m a little scared,” he added.
The two ran toward Sam’s house. Micah was sure that Noah was as nervous as he was. What if Sam said no? What if Sam wouldn’t want to be their friend anymore and stopped taking them and Dad fishing?
They walked in silence up to Sam’s front door. Just as they knocked at the door, someone walked around the side of the house. “Hello, boys!” he said, walking toward them. “What are you two up to today?” Even though a large straw hat hid his face, the boys knew from the voice that it was Sam. And they knew that he was smiling.
“We came to visit you,” Micah said.
“Yeah,” Noah said. He quickly added, “Micah has something to ask you.”
Micah’s heart pounded in his chest. He took a deep breath and blurted out, “Will you come to church with us tomorrow? You can ride with us—we have plenty of room—and you can sit with us at church.”
“Well, I see your family leaving for church every Sunday, and I haven’t been to a church in a long time,” Sam said. “I think that would be OK for me to go to church with you this Sunday.”
“Yea!” both boys exclaimed at the same time.
Noah said, “We leave at 9:30. We’ll pick you up then!”
As the boys ran home, Micah turned and called to Sam, who was still smiling. “See you tomorrow morning at 9:30!”
As they entered their house, Mom and Dad were waiting for them.
“What did Sam say?” Dad asked. “Is he going to church with us?”
Micah grinned. “Yes. We said we’d pick him up at 9:30.”
That night when they said their prayers, Noah and Micah remembered to thank Heavenly Father for helping them ask Sam to go to church with them.
“I feel really happy,” Micah said.
“I do too,” Noah said.
The two boys climbed into their beds, and Micah remembered something their bishop had said in sacrament meeting the week before: “Every member a missionary!”