Gospel Story Finder

The warm smell of hot chocolate chip cookies wafted through the air as Mary came into the house from school. It was family night, and when Mother was in charge of treats, she always made chocolate chip cookies. As Mary burst into the kitchen, rows and rows of cooling cookies met her eyes. She reached for one, but Mother playfully swatted her hand with a dish towel.
“Wait till tonight,” Mother said. “They’ll taste even better if you wait.”
Mary reluctantly turned away from the warm cookies that sagged a little between the wires of the cooling rack. She wasn’t sure that she could wait!
“Oh, I suppose eating one now won’t hurt,” Mother said with a smile. “But only one!”
Mary grabbed the biggest one that she could find, then ran to her room and checked the supplies for her lesson. All the flannel-board figures of Helaman and the stripling warriors were colored and cut out. After practicing telling the story one more time, she decided that she was ready.
Dad was in charge of the activity that night, and he always thought of something fun to do. Sometimes they played games or went on walks. Last time they had played baseball. She wondered what he had planned for tonight.
The boys were in charge of music and prayers, and the thought of little Scott waving his arm in a giant circle as he led “Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam” made Mary smile in anticipation.
After dinner and the dishes were finished, the family gathered in the living room. Sure enough, Scott’s arm was nearly worn out by the time they got to the last sunBEAM! Mary’s lesson went well, even though Jacob was a little disappointed that Helaman had only twenty stripling warriors instead of two thousand.
“Each one stands for one hundred,” Mary explained.
When Dad got his old hat from the hall closet, everyone knew what the activity was going to be: Charades!
“Let’s do songs!” Scott yelled.
“We’ve never done fairy tales,” Mother commented.
“Let’s do famous people,” Robbie cried.
“Nope,” Dad declared. “I’m in charge of the activity, so I get to choose the topic, and tonight it’s scriptures.”
“Good idea!” Mother said wholeheartedly.
“That sounds hard,” Robbie moaned.
“That’s not all,” Dad continued. “After the team guesses the scripture or scripture story, the team captain has to find the scripture reference and read one verse of it to us. And it all has to be done within four minutes! Your mother will be one team captain, and I’ll be the other.”
Mary and Robbie were on Dad’s team. Mom took Scott and Jacob into the kitchen to choose their scriptures. Dad and Robbie and Mary planned the hardest scripture stories that they could think of for Mom’s team. They decided to give Scott “Noah and the ark” and Jacob “Enos praying in the forest.” Mother got “Samuel the Lamanite preaching to the Nephites.”
When Mom’s team came back into the living room, she had a smug smile on her face. “We’re going to beat you at your own game!” she told Dad.
Scott went first and pretended to build something, then acted like a puppy, then a kitty. Jacob quickly guessed, “Noah and the ark.”
Robbie loved acting out “David and Goliath,” but Dad had trouble finding it in the Old Testament before the time limit was up. Neither Scott nor Jacob guessed that Mother was Samuel the Lamanite, so that gave Mary’s team a good lead. Then it was her turn. When she unfolded her paper and read “The thirteenth article of faith,” Mother’s team was grinning happily.
“You’ll never get it!” Jacob chortled.
Mary knew the thirteenth article of faith by heart. Last Sunday they had been practicing it in Primary Sharing Time. Hmmm, she thought. “We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous,and in doing good to all men …” Suddenly she had an idea. Will they guess it? she wondered.
Mary pulled her ear.
“Sounds like!” Dad yelled.
Mary nodded. She leaned over and hung her arm down near her nose. As she lumbered across the living room, she swung her arm gently.
“Elephant?” Dad asked.
Mary nodded happily. Then she ran around the room, glancing over her shoulder as if she were frightened.
“Are you scared?” Jacob asked. Mary nodded.
“Mary, did you read the paper carefully?” Mother asked.
Mary smiled and nodded, grinning. Mother was stumped!
Mary pretended to be an elephant again, then ran around the room.
“Is the elephant chasing you?” Father asked. Mary nodded excitedly and pulled at her ear again.
“Sounds like ‘chased by an elephant’?” Dad said, more puzzled than ever.
Suddenly Robbie yelled. “I know! ‘We believe in being honest, true, chased by an elephant, virtuous, and in doing good to all men!’”
“Yes!” Mary screamed. Dad grabbed his scriptures and flipped to the end of the Pearl of Great Price. He read as fast as he could. “‘We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men; indeed, we may say that we follow the admonition of Paul—We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things.’ The thirteenth article of faith. Stop!”
“Four minutes,” Mom said, pretending to be disappointed as Mary plopped happily into her seat.
“Got you!” Dad cried. “You thought you had us with that one, but Mary and Robbie were too smart for you!”
“I’m afraid so,” Mother said with a smile.
Jacob and Dad did theirs easily. Mom and Scott guessed right away that Jacob was Enos when he first pretended to look at a watch on his wrist, then kept peeking at it while he pantomimed praying. And the whole family laughed as Dad acted like a seasick Jonah inside of a fish. The scores were close, but Mary’s team won.
“I thought you were going to beat us at our own game, Mom!” Mary teased.
“We’ll beat you yet,” Mother said, winking at Jacob and Scott. “I’m in charge of treats, and losers get first choice!”
“Oh no!” Mary, Robbie, and Dad all groaned. But there were still lots of delicious cookies on the plate by the time that it reached Mary and Robbie and Dad. And everyone felt like a winner.

Today is going to be a perfect day—an Abby Day! Abby thought as she skipped into the sunny kitchen.
“What would you like for breakfast, dear?” asked Mama.
Abby thought it would be nice to have strawberry ripple ice cream. But she was sure that Mama would shake her head and sigh, “Oh, Abigail.” So instead, she said, “I’d like oatmeal with raisins and a little brown sugar.”
“All right, Abby. It will only take a minute.” Mama smiled at her.
Then, when Papa offered Abby orange juice or apple juice, Abby said she would like orange juice, please, and was glad that she’d remembered to be polite.
Breakfast was delicious. When she finished, Abby took her bowl, spoon, and glass to the sink. “Here, Papa. I’m finished.”
He smiled at Abby as he took her things. “Thank you, Abby,” he said. “What a big help you are.”
Abby went into the family room. Mama was sitting on the floor, surrounded by scraps of material. Each little pile was a different color or pattern. They were so beautiful that Abby wanted to grab all the piles and throw them up into the air. She imagined the bright colors and pretty patterns fluttering down like butterflies. But the last time she had done that, Mama had cried, “Oh no, Abigail!” so she knelt down next to Mama and asked, “What can I do to help?”
Mama hugged her. “Can you help me choose some pretty pieces for a quilt for Aunt Lisa?” Abby was glad that she could help.
When Mama went to help Papa for a minute, Abby noticed how the fluffy quilt batting looked just like a bouncy cotton cloud waiting for someone to jump into it. Then she thought it looked more like new-fallen snow, and she imagined being the first one to walk through it.
They were wonderful thoughts, but Abby wouldn’t like the sad “Ab-i-gail” Mama would say if she did walk on the quilt batting. And it was Abby Day, so she sat still and waited for Mama to return.
Soon Mama came back and said, “Thank you for waiting so patiently, Abby. Papa is going out to the barn now. Would you like to go with him?”
“Yes!” Then, because it was Abby Day, she remembered to get her coat and hat without being asked. Usually Abby squirmed a lot when Mama put on her coat. But today Abby wiggled only a little while Mama buttoned the top button. “There,” Mama said, “all done.”
It was cold as Papa and Abby walked down the driveway to the barn. “Will it snow, Papa?” Abby asked.
“Soon. Maybe today.”
Most of the leaves were off the trees, and Abby ran to pick up an armful of them. She threw them up as high as she could. “Look, Papa—it’s snowing leaves!” She started to run across the yard, then stopped and asked, “Can we run, Papa?” She knew that if she ran too far ahead, Papa would call, “Wait for me, Abigail!” But today Papa said, “Sure, Abby,” and he raced her to the barn.
Papa and Abby finished their work in the barn just as it began to snow. They went into the kitchen, where it was warm. Mama fixed hot chocolate, and it tasted just right and made Abby feel warm. Abby had an even warmer feeling inside as she thought about how she had made the day an Abby Day.

My wife and I have just celebrated a remarkable thirtieth anniversary. Thirty years ago, young missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints knocked on our door in Nottingham, England.
How did their message appeal to two active members of another church? We, and generations before us, had held membership in the established church of the land. Furthermore, we were very happy with our way of life. Two precious children had graced our home, and a new job in a large industrial company was giving challenge and enjoyment.
What more could we hope for? What could add to our happiness? As the missionaries taught us and prayed with us, we began to realize that there were gaps in our life, that we had unfulfilled needs. For a few minutes may I share with you ten ways in which our lives became even more purposeful and happy as these needs were fulfilled. I am sure you will be able to identify some of these needs in your life, in your home, in your family.
First, we realized that our communication with God was not often enough or strong enough. True, we had always said our individual prayers, but when, because of the missionaries, we also started to pray together regularly as husband and wife and with our children, we experienced a tremendous feeling of closeness, not only with each other but with the Almighty God.
The missionaries had taught us that he is a personal being, that he is literally our Father, and prayers began to flow from the heart and were no longer repetitious. We came to know him as a loving Father, just and kind, reliable and true. What great need there is in the world today to commune with the Infinite, to talk and walk with God, to know that he speaks to us today and that we are in reality his children.
Second, we came to know Jesus Christ, not just as a historical figure, but as the living Son of God. In high school and the years that followed I had made a special study of the New Testament. However, the Savior’s life and mortal ministry had no great impact on my life until the missionaries testified, as did Job of old, that our Redeemer lives (see Job 19:25).
I came to know him as my personal Savior, who gave his life for me and for each of us. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). Everyone needs a friend and everyone has a friend beyond compare—Jesus Christ and him crucified and resurrected for us.
Third, as a young married couple, we were seeking security in an insecure world. We had grown from youth through teenage years during World War II. I had been a member of the Home Guard at sixteen, trained to defend my country, and at seventeen had volunteered for the Royal Air Force. Now, more than five years after the war had finished, there was still rubble in the streets and rationing in the shops.
We grasped at the secure message that the missionaries gave us, that God speaks today as he did anciently, through prophets. Yes, he is mindful of us, he does love us, he has restored his church and the fulness of his gospel as he promised. Oh, how the world needs a prophet to lead us and guide us in these troubled times. I testify that we have such a prophet. He sits behind me as I speak in this tabernacle. He presides over The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the Lord’s church and kingdom here on earth.
Fourth, we began attending the Church at the missionaries’ invitation—and what a friendly reception! We soon learned what true sociality is, and sincere brotherhood and sisterhood which bind together people of all nations and tongues. “Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God” (Eph. 2:19). What a wonderful feeling of belonging, of being needed and appreciated, beyond anything we had previously experienced.
Soon we were singing in choirs; visiting other Church members in their homes, just as they visited us; and giving service to others in some of the many service projects the Church provides. We were able to choose from a wide range of activities—drama, dancing, sport—to supplement the spiritual progress that came rapidly by worshiping and learning with other Latter-day Saints. Everyone needs to experience the warmth of friendship and happy social activity on a continuing basis.
Fifth, my family and family life became even more meaningful and precious to me as we commenced having wonderful family home evenings together. We learned that all over the world, members of the Church spend at least one evening a week together in a balanced evening of spiritual instruction, fun, and talent sharing. We love our children, and we were glad to learn from the missionaries that although baptism is essential for the remission of sins, infant baptism is not necessary since “all children who die before … accountability are saved in the celestial kingdom” (D&C 137:10). We have known a number of parents who have been distressed at the death of a small child because of the un-Christian doctrine of infant baptism.
Again, we also became concerned about our wider family: our grandparents, our great-grandparents, and all of our ancestors. This is also a universal need, as Alex Haley expressed, “a hunger, marrow-deep, to know our heritage” (“What Roots Means to Me,” Reader’s Digest, May 1977, p. 73). Everyone has some family, sometimes near, sometimes far, sometimes living in mortality, sometimes passed on and awaiting the Resurrection. The strength that comes from family in all its aspects is a vital need, one that can be fulfilled by the principles and programs learned from the missionaries.
Sixth, everyone appreciates good health, and there is a basic need to have our spirit housed in a well-functioning body if at all possible. Personally, I had suffered internal discomfort for some years, but the health code, or Word of Wisdom, taught by the missionaries helped me to overcome this. I can testify that the exclusion of the habit-forming stimulants of alcohol, tobacco, tea, and coffee has been a great blessing in my life and the lives of my wife and my children. I am glad the Lord gave this revelation through Joseph Smith, the Prophet, almost 150 years ago, bringing increased health and vitality to millions of people.
Seventh, as provider for our young family, I was not only concerned about physical and spiritual well-being, but indeed with personal progress generally. I soon found that in the Lord’s Church all kinds of resources are provided to fulfill this need. Before long I was involved in educational activities and leadership training and cultural pursuits of various kinds. Progress within my company organization was a natural outgrowth of progression in the Church. This was not surprising, for early in our discussions with the missionaries we had learned of God’s plan of eternal progression for his children. Does not everyone deep down have this yearning, this need to progress and improve, to develop and refine?
Eighth, I think along with these needs there is also a spirit of adventure in most of us in varying degrees, a need to discover, a need to explore. For many this need is met by reading adventure stories or traveling to new places. For myself, I had always been fascinated by the study of Middle Eastern archaeology, particularly of the great Egyptian civilization.
The message of my missionary friends even fulfilled this need, for they told us of an ancient record on gold plates, inscribed by people from the Middle East in the pre-Christian era. Imagine my excitement to learn that these ancient people with their prophets and culture had left the Old World and traveled to the New, to become a mighty people on what is now the American continent. Their records were hidden and preserved and a little over 150 years ago were discovered, not by archaeologists, but by a teenage youth. The faith and worthiness of this young man, Joseph Smith, enabled him not only to find the gold plates, but later to translate the hieroglyphic record by the power of God.
What a thrill it was to see some of the reformed Egyptian characters as copied by the hand of Joseph Smith. I knew by the feeling I had that they were true characters. Then, to hold this book of scripture, this Book of Mormon, in my hands and read it eagerly, sincerely, prayerfully, was a powerful spiritual experience. The need I had for the adventure of discovery was fulfilled through the Book of Mormon. This was not merely discovery of ancient peoples, but a complete discovery of the divinity of Jesus Christ. I testify that the Book of Mormon is a witness, a modern-day witness, of the Savior of the world, who visited this continent after his resurrection.
Ninth, as one who had lived less than perfectly, and yet had no serious matters to disturb my conscience, I felt the need to make some changes in my life. I was overjoyed to learn the pure teaching of Jesus Christ concerning faith, repentance, baptism by immersion for the remission of sins, and the laying on of hands to receive the Holy Ghost. What joy to start afresh with a clean sheet, having turned away from unsound doctrines, vain traditions, and perverted ordinances.
Again, this would seem to be a universal need, all men having been born into this earth life innocent and pure, and having been tainted by the things of the world. The marvelous thing is that Jesus gave his life for everyone. His resurrection was for everyone, “for as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive” (1 Cor. 15:22).
Tenth, and finally, since being baptized into this wonderful restored Church of Jesus Christ, I have felt an inner peace, “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding” (Philip. 4:7). I have heard many people say their greatest need and desire is to obtain peace of mind. How does this come? It comes by knowing the truth, for “the truth shall make you free” (John 8:32). I testify that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true Church of Jesus Christ, and teaches true principles and true ordinances.
How grateful I am that my ten most fervent needs have been fulfilled through listening to the missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Then, by study and prayer and obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel, I have found happiness not only here but for eternities to come.
May all within the sound of my voice, and all God’s children everywhere, have the same fulfillment, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Once at a Special Olympics baseball game, they adopted a team that was losing by an impossible margin. The team members had given up—until they found themselves with a real clown cheer-leading squad. “We’d find out the name of the guy up to bat and then we’d start yelling, ‘Come on, Charlie, you can do it. Come on, Fred!’ In that one inning they more than doubled their score. They still lost, because it was the last inning, but when they left there they were so excited that they were just in heaven.”

Elder Renlund spent his career as a cardiologist, treating patients with heart failure. He saw many patients die. But after a patient named Chad died, the emotional distance he maintained in times of crisis as a physician shattered when Chad’s parents joined him in the emergency room. In that moment he saw Chad through their eyes.
Of this experience, Elder Renlund said, “I now realize that in the Church, to effectively serve others we must see them through a parent’s eyes, through Heavenly Father’s eyes. Only then can we begin to comprehend the true worth of a soul” (page 94).

As I have pondered how we might best provide such examples, I have thought of an experience I had some years ago while attending a stake conference. During the general session, I observed a young boy sitting with his family on the front row of the stake center. I was seated on the stand. As the meeting progressed, I began to notice that if I crossed one leg over the other, the young boy would do the same thing. If I reversed the motion and crossed the other leg, he would follow suit. I would put my hands in my lap, and he would do the same. I rested my chin in my hand, and he also did so. Whatever I did, he would imitate my actions. This continued until the time approached for me to address the congregation. I decided to put him to the test. I looked squarely at him, certain I had his attention, and then I wiggled my ears. He made a vain attempt to do the same, but I had him! He just couldn’t quite get his ears to wiggle. He turned to his father, who was sitting next to him, and whispered something to him. He pointed to his ears and then to me. As his father looked in my direction, obviously to see my ears wiggle, I sat solemnly with my arms folded, not moving a muscle. The father glanced back skeptically at his son, who looked slightly defeated. He finally gave me a sheepish grin and shrugged his shoulders.
I have thought about that experience over the years as I’ve contemplated how, particularly when we’re young, we tend to imitate the example of our parents, our leaders, our peers. The prophet Brigham Young said: “We should never permit ourselves to do anything that we are not willing to see our children do. We should set them an example that we wish them to imitate.”

Several years ago, I was following a conversation on social media between two of my former mission companions. These were men whom I loved and respected.
They were discussing questions they had about the Church and its doctrine. It soon became clear that they both had left the Church. It shocked and disturbed me. I had never heard of some of the things they were discussing. I felt like I had to know if these things had any merit. So I began looking into the arguments of those who had concerns about the Church.
Some of the things I read over the next two years led me to question everything about the Church. Some who go through this feel sad. They grieve for the loss of their faith. I became angry. I felt that the Church had deceived me. I wasn’t sure what was real or whom I could trust.
I had a difficult time going to church. I asked to be released from my calling. My relationship with my wife, Cheri, and my family was strained. I continued to go to church, but it was really just for show and to try and keep my family together. Life was a mess. I couldn’t feel the Spirit and questioned whether or not I had ever really felt the Holy Ghost.
When my oldest child, Kayson, was leaving on his mission, I cast a gloomy cloud over what should have been a joyous occasion. After two years, most of my family knew what I was going through. When they all went to the temple with Kayson for his first time, I was not there.
Through all of it, I felt so alone.
One day my brothers got together to talk to me about what I was going through. I don’t really remember what they said, but I knew it was done out of love. As we talked, I started to realize what I was missing. It became the catalyst for change. It should have been me to ordain Kayson an elder. It should have been me to escort him through the temple. It should have been me to give him a father’s blessing before he left. Those most important events in his life were meant for me to be there, not someone else. I remember asking myself, “What am I doing?”
Shortly after, a good friend felt inspired to introduce me to a member of his stake presidency. This kind man listened intently to my story and seemed to know what I was going to say before I said it. We talked for hours. My story, my questions, the logic I had been exposed to were so similar to what others had shared with him. I began to realize that there were reasonable answers for many of my concerns and that many of my questions, while sincere, had been planted by people intent on damaging faith.
Were all my questions and concerns immediately resolved? No, of course not. But my heart was softened enough to realize a great truth: questions are good, but some questions are more important than others.1 Was losing my family and standing before God worth a few unanswered questions? When I focused first on the questions that were most important and put God back in first place in my heart, I began to find answers that reassured me that I was getting back on the right path.
My stake president and bishop also reached out to me. They were a great help to me and Cheri during some dark times. They never gave up. They and my family on both sides of the veil were instrumental in helping me. I know that Heavenly Father knows and loves us. He puts people in our path when we need them. We just need to be willing to accept their help.
I know there are others out there who may be going through something similar. It may be you or someone you know.
I know that the Savior established His Church with the authority to provide the ordinances and covenants we need to return to Him. Satan is working overtime to discredit the Lord’s Church using any means possible. Raising questions and creating doubts is easy. Falling into his traps can happen to anyone. Relying on the information and answers that others provide can be far easier than doing the work of discovering truth for ourselves “by study and also by faith” (Doctrine and Covenants 88:118; emphasis added). But ultimately, that’s what God requires.
If you are struggling with questions or doubts about the Church or your faith, you won’t find truth by reading blogs or listening to podcasts from those who disagree with the Church or have left it. But you also probably won’t be satisfied with shallow answers, and you might not like the suggestion to “put your questions on the shelf.”
I learned that we cannot always live on borrowed light, but instead we must turn to God who is the source of all light and truth (see Doctrine and Covenants 93:26). We must study it out in our own minds, but we must also ask God if what we are thinking is right (see Doctrine and Covenants 9:8). We must learn for ourselves, as Joseph Smith did (see Joseph Smith—History 1:20), and be patient in our searching (see Alma 32:41). But learning by faith means we must prove the truth by living it (see John 7:17; 1 Thessalonians 5:21).
When I was studying things antagonistic to the Church, I felt like I was literally in the mists of darkness (see 1 Nephi 8:23–24; 12:17). When I grabbed hold of God’s word and took that first step toward Him, that was all He needed to send His Spirit to touch my heart.
A few weeks after Kayson left on his mission, my stake president visited me. I caught him up on what had happened during those weeks after my brothers had talked with me. I said I would like to get a new temple recommend. He asked if I could answer the recommend questions properly. I confessed, “President, I don’t think I can say I know that the Church is true yet, but I sure hope with all my heart that it is. And I am going to live my life in accordance with that hope. Is that enough?”
He paused for a moment then said, “Travis, that will always be enough.”
There are some things I’m still waiting to understand, but some things have become very clear to me. I know that Heavenly Father loves me. I know that we might wander and struggle for a time. But I know that through Christ, His Atonement, and the hope it brings, it is possible to return to the path that leads back to Him.
The author lives in Utah, USA.

Thirty-three years ago, I received my call to serve as a missionary in the Utah Ogden Mission. Of course, because I was coming from Europe, some local Utah traditions like “green Jell-O with carrots” and “funeral potatoes” were a bit peculiar to me!
However, I was deeply impressed by the devotion and discipleship of many of the Saints, the sheer number of people attending Church meetings, and the scale of fully functioning Church programs. When my mission came to an end, I wanted to make sure that the joy I felt and the spiritual strength and maturity I observed would also be available for my future family. I was determined to return quickly to live my life in the “shadows of the everlasting hills.”
However, the Lord had different plans. On my first Sunday at home, my wise bishop called me to serve as the Young Men president in our ward. Serving this wonderful group of young men, I quickly learned that the joy that comes from being a disciple of Christ has very little to do with the size of Church meetings or the scale of programs.
So when I married my beautiful wife, Margret, we joyfully decided to stay in Europe and raise our family in our home country of Germany. Together we witnessed what President Russell M. Nelson taught many years ago: “The joy we feel has little to do with the circumstances of our lives and everything to do with the focus of our lives.” When the focus of our life is on Christ and His gospel message, we can experience the full blessings of discipleship wherever we live.

A strange thing happened the other day. Mark and I double dated to the prom with Shane and Sam. Mark was very attentive and courteous throughout the whole ordeal, but Sam, who’s kind of a joker, was always wandering off to visit friends or get refreshments for himself. After a while Shane nudged me and said, “Will you come to the ladies’ room with me?” I excused myself and followed her to the girls’ lounge, where she began to apply makeup with a shaky hand. Her eyes reddened and watered slightly as she did this, and I suddenly realized that she felt as inadequate as I used to feel. The only difference is that she uses makeup and pretty clothes to cover up her inferiority complex while I hid inside the house under books and magazines. I don’t know why I always thought of her as being a girl with a perfect life—I guess I couldn’t see past my own shell. Anyway, I patted her on the back and made a few tactful (I hope) comments about certain boys who are nervous around girls, and she seemed to cheer up. I hope we can be better friends now that I understand both her and myself better.

Some years ago a woman complained to me about her unresponsive husband. I asked her to describe some of his behavior. She indicated that in most cases he was a very negative person. He would come home in the evening and complain about the untidy home. Occasionally dinner was not ready on time, which elicited criticism. She was neither as attractive nor as intellectually stimulating as her husband desired. He was negative with the children as well, offering very critical comments.
I then asked the wife to describe her behavior toward her husband. She admitted that most of the things she did were designed to hurt him. In fact, quite often she planned a meal late just to make him angry. Likewise, the more he urged her to take better care of herself, the less desire she had to make herself more attractive. Their home was frequently in disarray simply because she had no motivation to clean it. On the whole, she did little to please or praise him.
I felt that there was enough basic love within their marriage that they could correct the situation—provided they made a strong effort to develop positive feelings for one another. I suggested that she return home and change her appearance, clean the house, read a good book, and attempt to become more interesting and attractive. She was counseled to greet her husband each night with a smile and a positive attitude.
Such a drastic change in attitude came as shock to her husband. Initially, he was very suspicious, certain that something was wrong or that his wife was being pleasant because she had some ulterior motive. But as she continued with the positive behavior, he began to enjoy the special attention she gave him and was pleased with the positive comments. He spent more time at home, and developed a better relationship with the children. The marriage soon became good and productive again.

Finally, after trying for a long time, we were expecting our first child. What joy and what emotion! Everything was going well. Our daughter was developing, growing, and everyone around us was as happy as we were for the blessing of this long-awaited daughter.
But complications set in. A rare blood and liver complication threatened both the baby and me. Doctors also discovered blood clotting in the placenta. When I was six months along, our daughter needed to be born.
When she was born, she weighed just under a pound (0.5 kg) and measured just over 10 inches (25 cm). In the hospital the nurses called her our “little warrior.” But four days after her birth, her condition worsened and she passed away. Giving birth to my daughter and then going home without her in my arms and seeing her little things at home gave me inexplicable pain!
I traveled with her little coffin in my lap for almost 190 miles (300 km) until we reached our hometown of Garruchos and buried her there. At times I could feel her presence, as if she were touching my face with her hand. My husband, Gustavo, dedicated the grave, and we buried her.
We spent three days at my parents’ home, where people came to visit us. Some could not understand how God could allow this to happen to us. But we never questioned the Lord. He chose us to be the parents of this special person, this little angel, who needed so few days on this earth to fulfill her mission. We didn’t see this as a punishment or a trial. We saw it as a blessing. It is now our duty to be worthy of being with her again.
The gospel gives us the light, strength, and hope of one day being able to raise her. Of course, we are sad on occasion, and sometimes we feel an emptiness. But then the Spirit comforts us.
We are trying to have another baby, and we know that things happen according to the Lord’s plan and time. Heavenly Father loves us and will never abandon us. How grateful we are to Him for having prepared a way for us to one day live together as a family.

At first I thought seminary would be hard.
I had to change schools, and seminary was early in the morning. I didn’t think it would work because I had a lot of homework and other things going on.
But when I started going to seminary, time just opened up for me. Now, I always have enough time for my homework. And I’m always excited the next day to get up and go back to seminary again. My friends and I support each other and learn a lot while we’re there.

My family and I moved to Saudi Arabia when I was 16 and my younger brother, Scott, was 14. Because there are no English schools there for high school students, Scott and I went to a boarding school in the neighboring country of Bahrain, where we were the only dorm students who were Mormons. Although we also were the only dorm students who regularly attended church, and we didn’t smoke, drink, or put pinups in our closets, most people didn’t suspect that we were Mormons. And that was fine with me. If they asked about my beliefs, I would tell them; if not, fine. Who wants to be laughed at? I didn’t hide my candle under a bushel exactly, but I didn’t put it up on a hillside either.
Then came the second year—and an entirely different situation. It began when Scott was assigned to give a report on Brigham Young in his U.S. History class. I helped him gather his information on the persecution of the Saints, the move west, the building up of the Salt Lake Valley, and President Young’s accomplishments and how they affect the world today. Although I wanted Scott to give a good report, I was concerned that people would laugh at our “weird beliefs.”
I didn’t see my brother after that class or any time during the school day to ask him how it had gone. But after school a group approached me at the snack bar—the same group that went out drinking on weekends and sneaked out of the dorm at night.
“Hello, Wes. Is it really true that you are a Mormon?”
“Oh no, here it comes,” I thought. I just knew that they were going to ask me to sing some Tabernacle Choir songs for them. I answered, “Yes, it’s true.”
They responded with, “Far out!” Then they told me that they wished they had something to believe in, and they wondered how I could be so straight and yet still get along with everyone. As I listened to their comments, my surprise grew; I had never expected such a reaction!
From then on, my brother and I talked and talked about the Church. Friends came to us. Teachers at the school began reading the Book of Mormon and A Marvelous Work and a Wonder. A few of my friends began attending Church with me. My best friend went from being an atheist to bearing his testimony in church. Although none were baptized at that time, I know that some were converted.
I have since graduated, and of all the classes I took and the things I saw while living in Bahrain, that was the most outstanding lesson I learned. I came to know how true it is that the people of the world are looking for the joy that the gospel brings. It is not enough to not hide your candle under a bushel, but as every member is a missionary, it is our duty to put it up on the hill for all to see.

I have been blessed to witness some of the gifts of God upon His prophets. May I share one such sacred experience with you? Prior to my current calling, I assisted in identifying and recommending future temple sites. After September 11, 2001, crossings along the U.S. borders became more controlled. As a result, it took two to three hours for many Church members to make the crossing from Vancouver, Canada, while going to the Seattle Washington Temple. President Gordon B. Hinckley, President of the Church at that time, suggested that a temple in Vancouver would bless members of the Church. A site search was authorized, and after we examined several Church-owned properties, other sites not owned by the Church were also investigated.
A beautiful site with religious zoning adjacent to the Trans-Canadian Highway was found. The property had excellent access, was dotted with beautiful Canadian pine trees, and enjoyed a prominent location which would make it visible to thousands of passing motorists.
We presented the site with pictures and maps in the monthly Temple Sites Committee meeting. President Hinckley authorized that we place it under contract and complete the necessary studies. In December of that year, we reported back to the committee that the studies were complete, and we sought approval to proceed with the purchase. After hearing our report, President Hinckley said, “I feel I should see this site.”
Later that month, two days after Christmas, we left for Vancouver with President Hinckley; President Thomas S. Monson; and Bill Williams, a temple architect. We were met by Paul Christensen, the local stake president, who transported us to the site. It was a little wet and misty that day, but President Hinckley jumped out of the car and began walking all over the site.
After spending time on the site, I asked President Hinckley if he would like to see some of the other sites that had been considered. He said yes, he would like that. You see, by looking at the other sites, we were able to make a comparison of their virtues.
We did a large clockwise loop around Vancouver looking at the other properties, ultimately arriving back at the original site. President Hinckley said, “This is a beautiful site.” Then he asked, “Can we go to the Church-owned meetinghouse about one-quarter mile [0.4 km] away?”
“Of course, President,” we responded.
We got back into the cars and drove to the nearby meetinghouse. As we arrived at the chapel, President Hinckley said, “Turn left here.” We turned and followed the street as instructed. The street began to rise slightly.
Just as the car reached the crown of the rise, President Hinckley said, “Stop the car, stop the car.” He then pointed to the right at a parcel of ground and said, “What about this property? This is where the temple goes. This is where the Lord wants the temple. Can you get it? Can you get it?”
We hadn’t looked at this property. It was farther back and away from the main road, and it was not listed for sale. When we responded we didn’t know, President Hinckley pointed to the property and said again, “This is where the temple goes.” We stayed a few minutes, then left for the airport to return home.
The next day, Brother Williams and I were called to President Hinckley’s office. He had drawn out everything on a piece of paper: the roads, the chapel, turn left here, X marks the spot for the temple. He asked what we had found out. We told him he couldn’t have picked a more difficult property. It was owned by three individuals: one from Canada, one from India, and one from China! And it didn’t have the necessary religious zoning.
“Well, do your best,” he said.
Then the miracles happened. Within several months we owned the property, and later the city of Langley, British Columbia, gave permission to build the temple.
In reflecting upon this experience, I am humbled by the realization that while Brother Williams and I possessed formal education and years of experience in real estate and temple design, President Hinckley had no such formal training, but he had something far greater—the gift of prophetic seership. He was able to envision where God’s temple should stand.

Louisa Lula Greene Richards was 23 years old when she was called to be the editor of the Women’s Exponent, a Church paper established in 1872. It served as a medium for LDS women to righteously represent themselves against unfriendly comments and gross misrepresentations and defend the principles and doctrines of their faith. This timid, retiring young woman lacked confidence in her capabilities, but she possessed implicit faith in her Heavenly Father’s power and goodness. So prayerfully and with reluctance she consented to accept the call from the prophet and became one of the first woman journalists in Utah.

3 Second, the prophet. Our prophet continues to testify of Jesus Christ. When President Hinckley was here in Atlanta, I listened to his words and felt the Spirit strongly. Afterward, I got to give him a picture and shake his hand. He said thank you to me and continued to shake other people’s hands. When I looked into his eyes, I knew that he was a prophet of God. The day I met him will be one I will remember forever and will share with my children.
In the April 2000 general conference, President Hinckley gave a whole talk on his testimony of Jesus Christ. He said:
“He is my Savior and my Redeemer. Through giving His life in pain and unspeakable suffering, He has reached down to lift me and each of us and all the sons and daughters of God from the abyss of eternal darkness following death. He has provided something better—a sphere of light and understanding, growth and beauty where we may go forward on the road that leads to eternal life. My gratitude knows no bounds. My thanks to my Lord has no conclusion.
“He is my God and my King. From everlasting to everlasting, He will reign and rule as King of Kings and Lord of Lords. To His dominion there will be no end. To His glory there will be no night.
“None other can take His place. None other ever will.”*
When President Hinckley bears testimony of Jesus, I believe in Jesus, because I know he speaks the truth.

When I was about ten or eleven, many of our relatives came to visit. There must have been 35 or 40. Mother had invited them all to dinner. After dinner everyone went in the other room and sat down to visit. There were piles of dirty dishes and silverware everywhere. The food had not been put away, and there were dirty pots and pans from all the preparations.

I remember thinking that later on everyone would leave, and my mother would have all the cleaning up to do. An idea struck me. I started cleaning up. It was in the days before electric dishwashers. Mother had always been very clean, and she taught us how to wash and wipe dishes correctly. I started in on this mountain of work. Finally, about three hours later, I had finished drying the last dish. I had put away all the food, cleaned off all the counters, the sinks, and the floor. The kitchen was spotless.

I will never forget the look on Mom’s face later on that night when all the guests had left and she came into the kitchen to clean up. I was wet from my chest to my knees. It was worth every particle of effort I had put into it just to see the look on Mom’s face. It was a mixture of emotion, relief, and pride. I made a decision then that I would try to put that look back on her face over and over and over again. I think I was able to do that.

Now no one should suppose that I did everything right. I could have been a lot better, but I think Mom would agree that I honestly tried.

When I was a freshman in high school, I developed the terrible habit of profanity. My friends used foul language and, while I resisted its attraction at first, I finally gave in to it. After about a year, just as I was turning 16, I developed the understanding that I had been committing a very serious sin. This understanding, inspired, I am sure, by the Holy Ghost working on my conscience, seemed to almost envelop me totally with a dark sense of guilt, and I decided to repent and put this sin away from me forever. Thus, I had fulfilled the first two steps toward repentance by recognizing my sin and, then, by feeling a deep sense of sorrow because of it.
I started an intense program of cleaning up my language, concentrating on steps three, four, and five of the repentance process. I began avoiding my especially profane acquaintances in favor of others, mostly Church members, and developed other words to express myself. I unthinkingly forgot occasionally, of course, but eventually got to where I could avoid speaking profanity altogether.
Then, after having successfully gotten the vile words out of my mouth, I went to work on getting them out of my mind. I prayed each morning for strength and reported my progress in my nightly prayers, always repeating my desire to receive a forgiveness of my sin. I told my friends of my efforts and asked their forgiveness of my former language. They were understanding and helpful.
And finally, having mastered my tongue and my mind, I felt I had completed every step necessary to be forgiven short of the final one, which is the forgiveness itself. But I had to wait awhile for that last step to be accomplished, just like I had to wait for my dry-cleaned pants. Then, one night, as I lay in bed after my prayers, the sweet sense of forgiveness I had been seeking came to me through the Spirit. I felt a great joy over my spiritual cleansing, far more profound than the relief I had felt over the physical cleaning of my favorite pants.
Now, about 15 years later, it is sometimes hard for me to believe that I ever used such foul language. I remember, certainly, that I did, but not with the pain I had felt earlier, because I know that I have been forgiven and that I have kept my forgiveness in force by never having fallen back into that same sin.

As a convert to the Church, it took some time for me to catch on to all the principles of the gospel. Some commandments and doctrines weren’t clear to me until I had been a member for a while. And so it was with keeping the Sabbath.
Before joining the Church I had led my 4-H club in many Sunday afternoon recreational activities, ranging from touch football to kite flying. I saw nothing wrong with it, even after I joined the Church. I felt it contributed to the solidarity of the club and increased camaraderie between the members. But one Sunday afternoon in particular caused me to think about what I was doing.
The club had tried to organize an ice hockey game, but we were short of players. I had a great idea. Why not call the Harrisons—the branch president’s family? Four of their seven kids were old enough to play. That would double our number, and it would be a good way to acquaint the members of my 4-H club with some Church members. I called Les, who was the oldest, and he eagerly agreed.
But as I stepped into the house while I was waiting for them to gather skates and extra jeans, I could sense something was wrong. President Harrison looked at me with a displeased look, and Les was standing there with a bewildered expression, so I knew I had interrupted a discussion between the two of them. Finally the silence was broken when the good president looked at me and said something to the effect that his children had their agency, but he didn’t approve, and did I know it was Sunday? Three of the four went with me, but by the time I left the house I was feeling pretty guilty.
The experience caused me to attack my newly acquired “reference set” to see what the prophets had said on the subject of the Sabbath. When the Ensign arrived that week and was focused on the Sabbath, I read it from cover to cover in a couple of days. I made an elaborate list of “don’ts” for the Sabbath and resolved I was going to make the Sabbath holy, even if it killed me.
The next Sunday I found myself sitting in my room wondering what to do. Something just didn’t seem right. I was following the letter of the law but not the spirit of the Sabbath, and something was definitely missing. The hockey episode took place near Christmas, and January had its share of Sundays, but no Sabbaths.
With February came Keith, and in our small branch one person can make a lot of difference. He was a convert of five months and had the enthusiasm of four new missionaries all wrapped into one person. So when the college we attended announced a foster grandparent program involving a local rest home, Keith approached me with the idea that we, the only LDS students on campus, should join and be good examples. I suggested we visit the two women who were in our branch who lived there. They couldn’t get to church meetings, and they probably needed us. We talked about it but took no action.
Then one Sunday our high councilor couldn’t make the 30 miles to our branch because of a heavy snow, and President Harrison gave what I am sure was an impromptu talk on faith. He said faith was putting your words and beliefs in action. It was that afternoon that Keith and I decided to visit the sisters in the rest home.
Our first visit was a disaster. We visited each sister alone, and didn’t really get beyond “How are you?” “Fine.” As we left we knew two things: first, that they needed us; and second, that we could do better. We had promised them that we’d return. And even though we spent much of the next Sunday afternoon driving home the 150 miles from district conference, Keith and I convinced Les Harrison, his sister LeAnn, and Portia (a nursing student) to visit the women with us.
We wheeled both sisters into a quiet corner. Keith read an article from a Church magazine, Les read a scripture, and Portia offered a beautiful prayer. We felt good about the experience, and the next Sunday we came with seven Young Adults and youth. Les and Keith blessed and passed the sacrament to the sisters. We then wheeled them into a small chapel in the home and sang a hymn. An article from the Church magazines was read, then a poem and a scripture. We had a closing hymn and prayer.
It was three o’clock before we left and we hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, so Les invited us all to his house for soup and crackers. That Sunday afternoon I was again in the branch president’s home, only this time it was under much different circumstances. The faithful president had just come home from working at the church, and he and his wife joined us in our meal. During the week the seven of us were scattered about the town, and many of us were without families in the Church. For two hours we sat around the table and talked with each other and Les’s parents. Jokes, stories, and the problems of being lone Latter-day Saints out in “the field” were shared. It was truly an inspiring experience.
Les and I only had an hour to work on our home-study seminary lesson before I had to be back at the church for a branch correlation meeting. It was a good meeting, and it was ten o’clock before I returned home. I had no time left to work on my genealogy or write a letter to a missionary as I had planned.
When I knelt for prayer that night I realized there were more “dos” for the Sabbath than I could ever fit into one short day. I thanked my Heavenly Father for the special day he had set apart to bless us.

A certain man, well up on the ladder of success, had great prospects for a very bright future. Then one day at a businessmen’s luncheon he decided that social drinking would make him more popular and successful. He soon began looking forward to the cocktail hours, and then found they didn’t come often enough. Finally he became an alcoholic, lost his job, his wife, and his friends. Because of the wrong choice at a moment of decision, he had lost everything he once so hopefully and diligently set out to accomplish.