Gospel Story Finder

While serving in the Bolivia Cochabamba Mission, my companion and I were assigned to labor in Villamontes (now part of the Bolivia Santa Cruz Mission). This remote village lies in the southeastern corner of Bolivia. The closest town is 90 kilometers away. Because Villamontes did not have a baptismal font, we performed baptisms in the nearby Pilcomayo River.
Our labors were meeting with some success, and we were having quite a few baptisms in the river. It seemed a good location until we began to hear rumors about piranhas. Standing waist-deep in water infested with carnivorous fish did not sound like something we wanted to do, but we didn’t have another place to perform these important ordinances. We ignored the rumors until a Church member actually caught one of the fish and showed it to us. The piranha’s sharp teeth alarmed us. Still, the Lord’s work must go forward, and we trusted in Him to protect us.
We needed His protection at our next baptism because seasonal rains had caused the river to rise to treacherous levels, clogging it with logs, sticks, and other debris. We were convinced we had to find another place to baptize.
After days of looking, we finally decided to perform a baptism in a member’s cistern—a small water tank. The cistern was so small we wondered if two people would fit into it. But both the convert and the priesthood holder climbed in, and the convert was baptized by immersion.
We had another baptism the following week, and the cistern was no longer available. So we performed the baptism in a small cement tub. Again both the convert and the priesthood holder stepped into the tiny makeshift font. The boy being baptized had to kneel down to be immersed.
After that baptism, we started thinking about where we could have future baptisms. The problem was urgent because three more people were scheduled for baptism the following Sunday. Fortunately, a district conference was going to be held in Yacuiba, and the meetinghouse there had a baptismal font. We traveled there for the baptismal service.
At the service, our mission president told us that because of the growth of the Church in Villamontes, that small village would receive a baptismal font. We were overjoyed.
Our experiences in Villamontes taught us that when we work hard, the Lord always provides a way for us to accomplish what He has asked. The Lord’s work will always move forward, with or without piranhas.

To kick off the project, we invited the Reverend to come and speak in the Luton Ward during the second hour of a fifth Sunday meeting. He talked about the support he and his church were giving and how we could be of help. Members of the Luton Ward were encouraged to start volunteering at the drop-in sessions. The youth planned an activity to sort out their overflowing and disorganised toy cupboard, as well as purchasing needed toiletries from local supermarkets for asylum seekers. The Reverend was amazed to see all the youth there bringing toiletries, and even more amazed that the leaders had made purchasing toiletries a competition for the youth. One ward member even volunteered to be Father Christmas for their drop-in session right before the holidays.

When our twin daughters were small, we decided to take them to the public pool and teach them how to swim. I remember starting with Rebekah. As I went down into the water with her, I was thinking, “I’m going to teach Becky how to swim.” But in her mind was the thought, “My dad is going to drown me. I’m going to die!” The water was only three-and-a-half feet deep, but Becky was only three feet tall. She was so frightened that she began to scream and cry and kick and scratch. She was unteachable.

Finally, I threw my arms around her and held her and said, “Becky, I’ve got you. I’m your dad. I love you. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. Now relax.” Bless her heart, she trusted me. She relaxed, and then I put my arms under her and said, “Okay, now kick your legs.” And she began to learn how to swim.

Following Joseph Smith’s death, Brigham Young was absolutely clear about priorities: first, the Saints must finish the Nauvoo Temple and receive the endowment there. Then they must seek a new home, the prophesied place of refuge in the West. For President Young, these goals required resolute attention. Indeed, so contagious was his enthusiasm that the pace of construction on the Nauvoo Temple increased dramatically under the leadership of the Twelve.

Ironically, such rapid progress inflamed enemies who, fearing that it might be impossible to drive the Mormons from Nauvoo after they finished their temple, vowed to drive them out first. 7 Faced with the probability of violence, in January 1845 Brigham Young momentarily hesitated; should they finish the temple even if it meant bloodshed? His diary records the answer: “I inquired of the Lord whether we should stay here and finish the temple. The answer was we should.” 8

Confirmed in his course, President Young pressed forward with iron resolve. In May, the capstone was laid and the Twelve announced that endowments would begin in December, a timetable they kept. Brigham talked tough throughout this period, partly to intimidate enemies and prevent bloodshed. “We would rather suffer wrong than do wrong,” was his motto, 9 and his faith that the Lord had dictated the direction and would oversee the outcome allowed him to act boldly.

Despite commanding the largest military force in Illinois, President Young declined to unleash the Nauvoo militia when violence finally broke out in September 1845. Instead, he and his fellow Apostles turned to intensive, special prayer, launching what historian B. H. Roberts called “par excellence the period of prayer in the church.” 10

With work on the temple progressing amid a tense peace, in the spring of 1845 President Young turned his attention to the West. Joseph Smith had spoken privately of “a place of safety preparing … away towards the Rocky Mountains.” 11 Only weeks before his martyrdom, the Prophet had commissioned the Twelve to seek that place of refuge.

President Young found it no sacrifice to leave home and temple, for he knew that the destiny of the Saints lay not in Nauvoo but in the West. There, he believed, they would become a mighty people; there they could build new homes and a new temple in safety. Believing this, when mobs attacked settlements around Nauvoo in September 1845, President Young used the occasion to publicly announce the long-planned migration.

A major concern for Brigham was finding the right place. After frequent fasting and daily prayer in his room in the temple, he saw in vision the right spot and felt he could recognize it. His mind at ease, he was now ready.

One month later, Brigham Young and the first company of Saints crossed the Mississippi River, though it was still winter. Once on his way, President Young seemed drawn westward as if by an unseen hand. “Do not think … I hate to leave my house and home,” he wrote his brother Joseph from the Iowa prairies. “No, far from that. … It looks pleasant ahead,” he wrote, “but dark to look back” toward Nauvoo. 12

The Iowa experience, nonetheless, proved difficult, and for a time it seemed that the whole Church was mired, both literally and metaphorically, hub-deep in the spring prairie mud. Moving thousands of Saints hundreds of miles took far longer and consumed more resources than even Brigham Young had imagined. The experience drained him and forced him to grapple with his limitations. He lost so much weight that his clothes no longer fit. Exhausted physically and emotionally, Brigham understood more than ever the need for God’s intervention. And he longed for Joseph to counsel him and to reassure the people.

As Brigham Young left his bed on the morning of 17 February 1847, illness seized him so suddenly that he “fainted away, apparently dead.” 13 Only those who die and go through the veil could know how he felt, he said two weeks later, adding that “I know I went to the world of spirits.” However, it was not given him to remember immediately the details of what he saw there: “All that I know, is what my wife told me about it since. She said that I said, I had been where Joseph & Hyrum was” and that “it is hard coming back to life again.” 14

Once revived, Brigham Young fell asleep and dreamed, and when he awoke, he recorded what he had seen. “In my dream I went to see Joseph,” he wrote. Finding Joseph sitting by a large window looking “perfectly natural,” Brigham took him by the hand, kissed his cheeks, and asked him why they could not be together as before. Joseph arose from his chair, looked at Brigham, and spoke in his usual way: “It is all right.” Brigham protested, but Joseph replied: “You will have to do things without me a while and then we shall be together again.”

Brigham then addressed Joseph as his mentor and asked for counsel. The advice was direct and simple: “Be sure to tell the people to keep the spirit of the Lord.” 15 Brigham then turned and saw Joseph in the light, “but where I had to go was as midnight darkness.” Because Joseph insisted, Brigham “went back in the darkness” and awoke. 16

Though Brigham Young spoke frequently of this in the weeks before heading for the Rockies, he did not elaborate on its meaning. Undoubtedly, it buoyed his spirits and provided still more evidence that he was on the Lord’s (and Joseph’s) errand. Though still burdened by the demands of leadership and the magnitude of the challenge, he was at peace.

That peace was not always shared by those closest to him. Two weeks after President Young’s illness and vision, his brother, Joseph Young, called on him in his office and “stated that he thought 100 lbs Provisions”—the announced minimum for the trek west—“very little for each Pioneer.” Some months before, he had told Brigham that getting the Saints safely across Iowa would require as great a miracle as Moses leading the children of Israel through the wilderness. Should they now expect a second miracle? With so little, he insisted, any mishap at all could endanger the whole enterprise. For Brigham Young, that amount—all they could expect to obtain—simply must do. “Brigham replied he wanted all to stay here, who had not faith to go with that amount.” 17 Though not foolhardy, President Young was realistic. After doing the best they could, the Saints had no choice but to depend on the Lord for the rest.

President Young faced the challenge with such unwavering confidence because he knew the plan was not his own. As he told the Saints nearly 10 years later, “I did not devise the great scheme of the Lord’s opening the way to send this people to these mountains.” Who did? “It was the power of God that wrought out salvation for this people,” he insisted. 18

From the moment Brigham Young entered the Salt Lake Valley in 1847, he had a focused sense of mission about what the Saints must do there and a firm conviction that, through the Lord’s protection, they would be privileged to do so.19 He foresaw that if they lived worthily, they would never be driven from there.20 This faith sustained him and informed his decisions throughout his long tenure as civic and Church leader in Utah.

In 1857–58, President Young’s faith was put to a severe test as thousands of U.S. troops marched to Utah as an “escort” for Alfred Cumming, who was sent by the U.S. government to replace Brigham Young as governor. Some have argued that Governor Young should have immediately sought a political solution. Logically, compromise and accommodation seemed the only policy that might preserve peace.

President Young felt otherwise. The Saints’ experiences in Missouri had taught him what enemies can do when backed by military authority. Confident that if the Saints did all in their power, the Lord would prevent disaster, Governor Young declared martial law and mobilized the territorial militia to do everything short of bloodshed to slow down the advancing troops. Grasslands and supply wagons were burned, provisions and cattle confiscated, and the advance units harassed day and night. Still the troops came—until the timely arrival of heavy snows forced the army into winter camp near Fort Bridger, roughly a hundred miles from the Mormon settlement in the Salt Lake Valley. 21

That did not end the army’s advance, of course. By spring, soldiers wanted revenge for a miserable winter. Facing a renewed and perhaps even more dangerous threat, Brigham Young ordered his men to prepare to oppose the army but added the promise that “not a gun will be fired, not a man slain.” One of his commanders, a man who viewed President Young as the Lord’s mouthpiece, replied that “he knew it was true but he did not believe a word of it.” Given the circumstances, bloodshed seemed inevitable. 22

Even as troops advanced toward the city, Brigham Young and governor-designate Alfred Cumming, aided by Thomas L. Kane, the non-Mormon friend of the Saints who had risked his life to reach Utah in the winter, concluded a peaceful accord. Without incident, the army marched peacefully through a deserted Salt Lake City to an isolated encampment 30 miles away. U.S. Army Captain Jesse Gove summarized the toll of the Utah War: “killed, none; wounded, none; fooled, everybody” 23—everybody except Brigham Young, who, throughout, had an inner assurance that the encounter would not result in calamity.

President Young’s leadership was not flawless, of course; in mortality, no one’s is. “There are weaknesses manifested in men that I am bound to forgive,” he said on one occasion. “I am right there myself. I am liable to mistakes,” he continued, but “I am where I can see the light. I try to keep in the light.” 24 The promise he felt was not that he would make no mistakes or always know what was best but that, in the end, God oversees the essentials. He quickly abandoned what did not work well for something that might work better, but his direction and his destination remained unchanging. Long-term goals based on revelation provided the consistency that informed his day-to-day decisions and gave him the confidence to press forward regardless of the obstacles—or even the errors.

Such certainty sometimes made Brigham Young appear stubborn. A few months after the peaceful resolution of the Utah War, President Young visited Governor Cumming. Concerned that they had narrowly averted disaster, the fair-minded governor cautioned Brigham Young to refrain from provocative acts in the future.

“With all due respect to your Excellency,” the President interrupted, “I do not calculate to take the advice of any man that lives in relation to my affairs.” Though not spurning friends and counselors, during such crises, in God alone would he trust. “My religion is true,” he told the governor solemnly, “and I am determined to obey its precepts while I live.” He would, he insisted, “follow the councils of my heavenly Father, and I have faith to follow it, and risk the consequences. …

“You may think strange of it,” he concluded, “but you will yet see that I am right.” 25

About seven years ago, when I was 29, I moved to Utah from Oregon, USA. After weighing my options, I decided to attend my local family ward, thinking I needed a change from the singles wards I had attended.
My parents raised me to always accept Church callings, so I made an appointment with the bishop to present myself as someone who wanted to be put to work. It wasn’t long before I found myself teaching the five-year-olds in Primary, which I enjoyed. Five months later the bishop called me to be Primary president. I was stunned. “Can I do that?” I asked myself.
Being single and childless made me wonder if I was qualified to serve in that capacity. In my past experience with family wards, Primary presidents were happily married, accomplished, and devoted mothers. Remembering what my parents had taught me, however, I accepted the new assignment. The bishop truly took to heart the mandate that bishops are to “find meaningful callings for all young single adults.”1 The calling may have been a little more meaningful than I was expecting, but I was grateful for it.
As I served in my new calling, I experienced many sweet, funny, and inspiring moments with the children. One year, during Christmastime, we reenacted the Nativity for a special sharing time. We sang songs. We furnished robes and towel headdresses for the shepherds and for Joseph. We had tinsel garlands for the angels’ heads. We made cardboard and foil-covered crowns for the Wise Men.
As we reenacted the Christmas story and sang the sacred songs of the season, I noticed the beautiful young girl who was portraying Mary. Her example of reverence and gentleness as she knelt, quietly holding the doll that represented the baby Jesus, touched my heart. The spirit of that moment made me thankful to a loving Heavenly Father for our Savior and helped strengthen my testimony of His profound and loving mission. It also made me thankful for the tremendous blessing I had received in being called to serve and for an inspired bishop who helped to make that service possible.
In the Doctrine and Covenants, we read, “Therefore, if ye have desires to serve God ye are called to the work” (D&C 4:3). Though this verse is usually associated with missionary work, I like to think that it can refer to any form of gospel-based service.
Regardless of marital or social status, each of us is first and foremost a child of a loving Heavenly Father, who wants us to grow, belong, develop our talents, serve one another, and help one another return to Him.
The acceptance and love I felt in that ward was instantaneous and remains in my heart to this day. My desire to serve was recognized and utilized, many people reached out and welcomed me, and Heavenly Father truly blessed me. Because of kind and attentive leaders, I was blessed to teach and learn from some of His most wonderful children.

An example of stepping up to serve is found in the life of our own prophet, President Ezra Taft Benson, and the family of which he is a member. President Benson has described to the General Authorities how his father was called to fill a mission. He left behind his wife, who was expecting another child, his seven children, the farm, and all that he had. Did he lose anything? President Benson tells how his mother would gather the family around the kitchen table and there, by the flickering light of an oil-fueled lamp, read the letters from her husband. Several times during the reading there would be a pause to wipe away the tears which flowed freely. The result? Each of the children later served a mission. Each stepped up to serve.

One Sunday in October, I was assigned to give an important part in a program at church. But in October everyone in my family had to work hard to harvest the rice in my father’s rice fields. That included working on the Sabbath day.
I prayed to Heavenly Father, and the Spirit planted a thought in my mind. I could try to finish the harvest before Sunday. I would get up early and work every morning before school. Then every afternoon I would work after school until dark.
But by Saturday night only half of the harvest was done. I went to bed discouraged that I had not accomplished my goal. Sunday morning I awoke early to go to the fields. My father came to my room and, with a gentle smile, asked why I wasn’t going to church. My heart was full of joy. I could go to church and keep the Sabbath day holy!

Jared is home from college. I asked him how he liked it, and he said, “It’s all right academically, but the social life isn’t too great.”
Mom says Jared’s problem is that he’s always trying to date the movie star type of girl, but he isn’t the movie star type of boy. Maybe that’s my problem too. I want to look like a model, but I’m not really that kind of girl. Not yet, anyway. I bet I could be if I tried. I’m going to begin as soon as Christmas is over.

A few months later Dad was at it again. It began when a notice came in the mail that one of the senators from our state, Senator Brown, would be in town to give a lecture about what was going on in Washington, D.C. When Dad mentioned that he was going to call this senator and invite him to dinner, we all begged him not to do it. Mom said senators don’t have time for such things. But Dad was undaunted (that’s one of the week’s vocabulary words) and called the senator’s office. He even got to talk to the senator.
The senator said he was sorry, but all his evenings were busy, so he couldn’t come to dinner. Now my dad is a quick thinker and just like he’d planned it, he said, “Well, then, how about coming to breakfast?”
Senator Brown is no match for my Dad, and he certainly was not prepared for that and couldn’t think of an excuse fast enough, so he said, “Yes.” He actually said he would come.
Before he came you can imagine what we had to learn. Did you know there are 435 congressmen in the House of Representatives, 100 senators in the Senate, that a senator is elected to a term of six years and a congressman for two? We were crammed full of facts, and we got Mom’s now famous manners and etiquette review.
The morning the senator came, a newspaper reporter did too. The reporter took our pictures with Senator Brown and wrote down all about how the senator was having breakfast with this family. It was kind of embarrassing and was even more embarrassing when the picture and article were in the newspaper.

If any of us thought we were the only “cultured” thing to hit Israel, we had another think coming. In an exchange with the Kibbutz Chamber Orchestra, we heard two pieces by Mozart, played as expertly as any orchestra we have come in contact with. These musicians are unusual in that they play not for money but for the sake of playing.

We also had an exchange with the Kibbutz Choir—40 vibrant singers whose sharp, crisp consonants danced in rhythm with their fervent enthusiasm. Their swaying shoulders and fiery eyes made them just as inspiring to watch as they were to hear. Though mostly farmers and small industry workers, both the members of the choir and the orchestra are exceptional artists.

The exchange was so successful and friendships became so strong that our conductor, Dr. Ralph Woodward, was invited to return next summer to conduct workshops with the music educators and musicians throughout Israel.

Illustration by Allen Garns
With my husband temporarily out of work, making ends meet for a family with five growing children was challenging. A day before the broadcast of the October 2013 general conference, we checked our food supplies and decided we would prepare a simple lunch of fried chicken and rice during the break between conference sessions.
Sunday came, and we were all set. The rest of our extended family, composed of my parents and my sisters and their families, met at the stake center half an hour before the broadcast started.
What a joy and a blessing it was to hear prophets, seers, and revelators share messages specifically for our generation. As I listened to the counsel and basked in the wonderful spirit of peace and love I felt from my Heavenly Father, I received the assurance that everything would be all right, that my family’s spiritual and temporal needs would be addressed, and that if I continued to exercise faith and let my Savior take the reins, we would be released from the grips of poverty and other hardships.
Enjoying the beautiful spirit of that Sabbath day, I had forgotten about lunch. Only when the break between sessions arrived did I realize there would be 17 of us. Nine adults and eight children would be sharing our meager meal of eight small pieces of chicken and a platter of rice, along with a bowl of pasta one of my sisters had brought.
Eight-year-old Henry offered a prayer of thanksgiving and blessing on our food, asking that all who partook would be filled. Then I broke each piece of chicken into smaller portions and handed these to the children as my sister placed pasta and rice on their plates. I could not keep tears from falling as I realized we had enough for one small serving for everyone and one extra serving after all the pieces were broken and the pasta and rice were divided among us. All of us then ate—and were filled.
I told my parents and husband that I knew of a surety that the Savior had indeed divided five loaves of bread and two fish and fed a multitude of “five thousand men, beside women and children” (see Matthew 14:14–21). Some critics and nonbelievers claim that the miracle was metaphorical, exaggerated, or impossible. But to my family and me, the account is true as written.
Heavenly Father had heard the prayer of a faithful child who gave thanks and requested the blessing that all who would partake would be filled and receive nourishment.
As we returned to the hall for general conference, I was feasting in my heart. I felt as though I were there with the multitude Jesus had fed, yearning to stay and learn from Him who promises that if we heed and hearken, we will never hunger or thirst (see John 6:35).
With our children we quietly took our seats inside the chapel and prepared to listen to Heavenly Father’s chosen servants. It was an occasion we will always remember.

During the recent flood disaster at Rexburg, Idaho, one man was separated from his family by the raging torrents. He feared the worst but six hours later found that all had survived the ordeal. The next day he remarked: “I have lived my life under the false illusion that security was achieved by the accumulation of this world’s goods; but now, with all that swept away by the flood and my wife and children spared and at my side, all is well. I feel like a millionaire, and we are ready to start all over again.”

In Puerto Francisco de Orellana, an isolated village in the jungles of Ecuador, members have a strong bond of love and faith. The monthly branch council reflects their caring. They focus on individuals and families first, then how programs can help. Inspiration follows.
Many members need help finding work. The branch council finds that the members’ challenges can often be solved at the local level. As the council discussed the needs of a single mother with a young daughter who has health problems, the Relief Society president knew of a job where the mother could work and still be near her daughter.
The branch council also draws on Church resources, such as the LDS Employment Services career workshop materials.2 They established a class taught by a branch member, which helped another branch member find a better job.
Ramiro Reyes, first counselor in the branch presidency, says of the branch council: “We are instruments in the hand of the Lord. He will achieve His goals through our works.”

I remember once a seven- or eight-year-old son of ours jumping on his bed hard enough that I thought it might break. I felt a flash of frustration, and I moved quickly to set my house in order. I grabbed my son by his little shoulders and lifted him up to where our eyes met.
The Spirit put words into my mind. It seemed a quiet voice, but it pierced to my heart: “You are holding a great person.” I gently set him back on the bed and apologized.
Now he has become the great man the Holy Ghost let me see 40 years ago. I am eternally grateful that the Lord rescued me from my unkind feelings by sending the Holy Ghost to let me see a child of God as He saw him.

Service has taken on a special meaning to the girls in the Copenhagen Denmark Stake. The Young Women were asked to help an LDS family in Poland. They gladly responded and began organizing the first parcel of hard-to-get items to send to the Polish family of four. They sent such items as soap, toothpaste, flour, razor blades, vitamins, and shoes. The parcel was received so gratefully that the girls decided to gather more badly needed items and have them personally delivered by a family in their ward who offered to spend their vacation making the trip into Poland.
The family was able to deliver the items gathered by the girls to the Polish couple and their two sons, who were grateful to have contact with Church members. They were also able to bring the news that a temple is to be built in East Germany.
The Young Women of the Copenhagen First Ward also filled sharing socks made by some California Young Women. These socks, filled by the Copenhagen girls with candy and small gifts, were given to children in Poland.
News of their successful service project has spread, and four other Copenhagen wards have also adopted Polish families. The girls hold work projects to earn money to pay for the postage on the packages they mail to Poland.

My name is Mardi Datakasi, I’m 16 years old, and I go to Mt. Barker High, where I’m in year 11 and study maths, (Australians use the plural), English, chemistry, modern history, geography, drama, Australian studies, and biology.
I am currently the state champion and third in Australia for BMX (bicycle motocross) racing. I just returned from Holland after competing in IBF championships, where I came in sixth. This was a great experience and an opportunity to meet people from other countries, as there were 32 countries competing.
My day is very long. I get up at 5:30 A.M. to arrive at the chapel for seminary at 6:15. That’s a 20-kilometer trip. We finish at about 7:10. I eat breakfast, then go to the local fitness center and do my morning training for BMX, which includes weights and swimming. At 8:30 I leave there and walk to school. After school I train on my bike and do my homework. Every Monday and Thursday night I work at the Meadows take-away (fast-food restaurant) and get home about 10:30 P.M.
On weekends I race BMX bikes and go to church. I have just completed my third year of seminary and am a Laurel.

Bill and Susan are devout Latter-day Saints who, after nine years of marriage, have four children, a car, lovely home, and job security. In fact, there is really only one thing missing from their marriage: happiness. Oh, they have their happy moments, but the stormy days outnumber the sunshiny ones. They finally decided to make an appointment with their bishop.

After they had discussed a wide range of problems, the bishop explained to Bill and Susan that we all tend to live our lives according to “scripts”—behavioral patterns we’ve picked up from our parents or from other significant people we’ve known. These patterns and habits may be at the root of some of our marital misunderstandings. “Regardless of whatever patterns our relationships may have fallen into, the scriptures can provide us with the life scripts we need to guide our daily actions. Bill and Susan, how often do you read the scriptures together?”

“We’ve tried a few times,” Sue replied, “but it seems like we have a hard time scheduling scripture study around work, other obligations, and television.”

Bishop Wilson then challenged Bill and Susan to read the scriptures each week with an eye toward searching them for solutions to their mutual problems. Bill mildly protested: “But, Bishop, I studied the scriptures on my mission, and I can’t recall many verses that specifically tell us how to resolve our family problems.”

The bishop smiled at Bill’s response. “Maybe the answers were there, Bill. Have you ever followed Nephi’s counsel to liken the scriptures unto ourselves? (See 1 Ne. 19:23.) I’d suggest that during the coming weeks you set aside fifteen or twenty minutes each day to systematically study the scriptures. You may want to start with specific topics found in a topical guide. Follow through with a discussion of what you read—and above all, liken the scriptures to your own family relationships. You might also write in your journals the insights you gain so you can readily refer to them later.”

Bill and Susan accepted the bishop’s challenge. Before they began, they had assumed that scriptural counsel—like the Beatitudes, for example—was to guide their actions and attitudes toward neighbors, colleagues at work, and friends. Suddenly the insight grew within them that any scripture counseling us how to treat our fellowmen is, by definition, inspired counsel on how married couples should treat each other. For example …

Nine-year-old Shelby gave the opening prayer in family home evening. “Shelby,” Mother said, “I think you are almost done with one of the Faith in God activities. You said the closing prayer for family home evening just a few weeks ago. Now you need to share your feelings about how prayer protects us and helps us stay close to Heavenly Father and the Savior.”
Shelby left the room and returned with her journal. She read how a few days earlier she had prayed in the backseat of the family car for help when the car would not start. Almost immediately a neighbor had arrived to help fix the problem. Shelby remembered to pray because she had been thinking about the Faith in God activity.
Like children all over the world, Shelby found that Faith in God is more than a program. It is a way to build faith as you practice living the gospel of Jesus Christ.

The beauty and eloquence of an expression of gratitude is reflected in a newspaper story of some years ago:
The District of Columbia police auctioned off about 100 unclaimed bicycles Friday. “One dollar,” said an 11-year-old boy as the bidding opened on the first bike. The bidding, however, went much higher. “One dollar,” the boy repeated hopefully each time another bike came up.
The auctioneer, who had been auctioning stolen or lost bikes for 43 years, noticed that the boy’s hopes seemed to soar higher whenever a racer-type bicycle was put up.
Then there was just one racer left. The bidding went to eight dollars. “Sold to that boy over there for nine dollars!” said the auctioneer. He took eight dollars from his own pocket and asked the boy for his dollar. The youngster turned it over in pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters—took his bike, and started to leave. But he went only a few feet. Carefully parking his new possession, he went back, gratefully threw his arms around the auctioneer’s neck, and cried.

I played “the trick” the evening before school started. The principal, Mr. Sajack, telephoned and asked Stevo to have a short talk ready for the opening assembly. Stevo went to my room and prepared it. Later he read it to me and asked what I thought. I told him that in this part of America we had a special pronunciation for the name of his country and the natives of his land. He took notes.

The next day in the assembly he introduced himself, told them his “nickelname” and then said, “I come from the Sloback Republic and my people are known as Slobs.” Half the auditorium teetered in embarrassment and the other half rolled in the aisles. He just smiled as if it was okay and continued to talk.

Later that day in English class Mrs. Cartwright asked him who helped him with the pronunciation of the name of his country. Then she glanced over at me. Stevo asked, “Why?” When she told him what a “slob” was I thought he would really be mad. All he did, though, was run a hand through that black hair, grin, and say “That was funny joke, heh?”