Gospel Story Finder

María Isabel Parra de Uribe of the Villas de La Hacienda Ward, México City México Tepalcapa Stake, tells of an experience common to many who have sought blessings of healing. Five months pregnant, she was suffering intense pain. Tests showed she needed surgery immediately, and she was told she might lose her baby.
“My husband and I were confused,” she says. “We didn’t know whether to have the surgery or not. We decided to ask God if surgery was the right choice. After our prayer, we felt peaceful and calm.
“While I was waiting to be taken to the operating room, my husband gave me a priesthood blessing. When it was over, we felt not only calm but certain our baby would survive.
“After I came out of surgery, a nurse said, ‘Everything is all right. Your baby is fine.’ I smiled to myself, realizing, I already knew.”
The power of godliness had been manifest in her life.

Yes, the Lord hears and answers our prayers, but we have to do our part! At one time in my professional career, things were not going well and I was praying fervently every day for an improvement in my situation. At the time, I was a member of the Mutual Improvement Association General Board, and I went to board meeting one night with a heavy heart. At the start of the meeting, we recited the MIA theme for that year, which was taken from Doctrine and Covenants 90:24: “Search diligently, pray always, and be believing, and all things shall work together for your good, if ye walk uprightly.” [D&C 90:24]
I had recited that scripture many times, but that night I was more sensitive to the whisperings of the Spirit, and the realization came to me: That’s it! That’s the answer to my prayers. Pray always and be believing. Do my part and the Lord will open the way.
Just a few weeks later a new opportunity came that changed my life for the better.

8. Ask three questions a day. The seed for the theory of relativity was planted when Albert Einstein was 16 years old. He asked himself the questions, “What would happen if a person tried to imprison a ray of light?” We don’t know how many before him had asked a similar question. We only know about the one individual who wrestled with the problem long enough to find an answer.

It was not Einstein’s brilliance in mathematics that insured his success. It was his courage to question what others had taken for granted.

Katherine J., 18, from California, USA, lives near the ocean. She and her friends regularly plan bonfires at the beach as creative dates. “We’ll cook s’mores and hot dogs. And from there, we’ll play games around the fire,” says Katherine.

A hot-dog roast doesn’t require much in the way of planning. And who doesn’t like hanging out around a bonfire? “We always invite a whole bunch of people,” Katherine says.

There were 27 of us that day, all 18 or 19 years of age, except one fellow, 21, whom we called “Pop.” Three more had started out with us in our flight group but had failed along the way, unable to keep up with the grueling physical discipline of basic training in the Royal Canadian Air Force. We had been training hard for months to take the place of young men not much older than ourselves who, at watch behind machine guns and Plexiglass bubbles, were still giving their lives over Germany.
Traditionally, completion of basic training called for a fitting “graduation ceremony.” Each flight group was confident that it could out perform any other group in almost any sort of physical contest. The flight party at the end of basic training had become the recognized way for flight trainees to prove that they were second to none.
Our flight group was no different. A youthful eagerness seemed to be pushing us to throw off the discipline for a night, to noisily proclaim that we were the top, and to somehow cram into one furious evening enough pleasure to last a lifetime. And so 27 of us sat down on the grass that day to discuss our flight party.
I sat down feeling very alone, and for the first time since our flight group had been formed, I felt absolutely no desire to be part of the group. I watched the others smiling and laughing as they agreed that only a top night club would be acceptable or would satisfy, and I sensed the mounting excitement as they discussed the activities that they felt would be the most entertaining. It was suggested that each of us had an obligation to contribute his best thoughts on the matter, and after five or six fellows had enthusiastically expressed their ideas, someone said: “Let’s hear what Green has to say.”
Green was the only Mormon in the group and had no desire to say anything to anybody. All he wanted to do was withdraw. How do you tell 26 non-Mormons about the branch you attend every Sunday with a fellow Mormon from another flight group? How do you convey the feelings you have about the mission home where you have standing invitation every Sunday for dinner, and where you gather around the piano every Sunday evening to sing with the missionaries just before you and your buddy leave to catch the last streetcar back to the barracks before lights out? What could you say to 26 non-Mormons planning an ultimate imaginable bash in a night club about how cold and dismal that Sunday night ride back to the barracks seemed? How sensitive would they be to your observation that you loathed setting foot in the barracks every Sunday night because you knew that the first word you heard would make a complete mockery of the word love.
The answer to all those questions, as they passed quickly through my mind that day, was: “They wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t care. They’d probably sneer or laugh. Their idea of a flight party is a good indication of what they find important in life, and therefore, it’s pointless to talk to them.” But somehow, I had to come up with something that would get me rid of, that would let me withdraw from the flight party. I was angry with myself because, after months of working together as a team with these fellows, I was going to suddenly and painfully resign. I was angry at them, for putting me in a situation that I knew I was going to mishandle. They were going to judge me as the last type of person they wanted at the flight party, and I had already judged them as incapable of organizing a party I would want to attend.
“Let’s hear what Green has to say.”
“Yeah, Green. You haven’t said a word. What do you want to do?”
Green drew a deep breath, and looking rather sullenly at the grass in front of him made his brief withdrawal speech: “Well, if I were to go to a flight party … I’d be taking a pretty decent girl … so there’d be no drinking … and no smoking … and no swearing.” He didn’t dare look at anyone, and he gathered himself as best he could against the sudden onslaught he knew was coming.
And then it happened.
There was a good minute of utter silence. It was so still you could have heard a pin drop on the grass. Then someone from across the circle began to speak:
“Well …”
This was it. This was going to be the start. They would all have their say and then Green could be at his solitary retreat, leaving his worldly buddies with their frivolous taste for life.
“Well … I’d be taking a pretty nice girl myself …”
From beside him, “Who wouldn’t?”
There was another good minute of silence and then, from off to the right, “I nominate Green as master of ceremonies.” There were no other nominations.
A week later, all 27 members of the flight group brought their beautifully dressed dates to our party. No drinking. No smoking. No swearing. Just lots of good food, good music, good dancing … and good memories of a flight party that was rather unique.
I remember, not without embarrassment, my thoughts on that sunny afternoon in 1944 as we sat down together on the grass. I remember that, unintentionally, I touched the lives of 26 young men. I thought I was putting them down. Generously, they put me at the top, and in my memory that’s exactly where I see them.

For over a hundred years, magazine publishing continued piecemeal throughout the missions of the Church. It was Elder Howard W. Hunter who, while overseeing the European missions in 1966, noticed that there was great duplication of effort in producing these magazines. And the quality and content of those magazines varied greatly.
Elder Hunter recommended that magazine publishing efforts be consolidated and correlated where possible, and a careful study was made by the Brethren. Then, twenty years ago this month, in March 1967, the unified International Magazines began publication in nine languages. During the years that followed, other language editions were added.
Today Church magazines are printed in eighteen languages.

“Please hurry, Mom, we’re going to be late!” Matthew said as he carried his science project to the car. As Mom opened the car door, Matthew very carefully placed the bright blue poster and experiments in the backseat.
On the ride to school Mom said, “Matthew, I’m very proud of you for the hard work you did.”
“Thanks, Mom, but do you think there’s a chance that maybe … just maybe … I could win first place?” Matthew asked.
Mom smiled. “I’m sure all the other students worked hard on their projects too and the judges would love to give each one a blue ribbon.”
“But, Mom, only one person can get the $15 prize in physical science, and I sure hope it’s me! I know just the skateboard I want to get,” Matthew said excitedly. “With the prize money and what I’ve saved, I’ll have enough to buy the skateboard.”
When they got to school, Mom helped Matthew inside with his project. Matthew quickly saw that there was more competition than he had anticipated—the gym was full of projects for earth science, animal science, plant science, and physical science.
As Matthew and his mom walked down the long aisles between tables, they found a project that caught Matthew’s attention. “This is Aaron’s,” he said. The project was on leukemia, a disease Aaron was battling. “Aaron wears a baseball cap every day, and sometimes he sits out during P.E. instead of playing with us,” Matthew said. He could tell Aaron had worked really hard to get so much information and pictures for his project.
A voice came booming over the loudspeaker instructing students to report to class.
“Wish me luck!” Matthew said to his mom as he turned and waved good-bye.
The judges were to make their decisions after school, and then there would be a program later that night to present the prizes in each category. The day seemed long, but the time finally came.
As Matthew and his mom approached the school that evening, one of his friends called out, “Hey, Matt! I think you won!”
Matthew beamed. “Mom, do you think that’s true?” He pulled his mom faster and faster toward the gym. When they walked in, people stood all around his project. Matthew ran up to the table. There, hanging on the corner of the poster board, was the biggest blue ribbon he had ever seen.
“Matthew, you did it!” Mom exclaimed.
Matthew was so excited he didn’t know what to say. His friends patted him on the back and congratulated him. Then he remembered Aaron. He ran to see if Aaron had won in his category, and pinned to his project was another big blue ribbon!
As the program began, an announcer said, “In one week, there will be a benefit dinner for Aaron to help him raise money for medical expenses. Everyone is welcome. Any donations will be appreciated.”
Then one of the judges started naming winners. “From the physical science category, the winner of the $15 prize is Matthew!”
The judge held the check up high as Matthew made his way to the front and accepted it. He couldn’t wait to show it to his mom.
“Do you know what I want to do with this money?” he whispered to her.
“Yes,” Mom said. “I’ll take you shopping tomorrow to get that skateboard.”
“No, Mom,” Matthew said. “I want to give this money to Aaron.”
Surprised, Mom looked down at Matthew. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
Matthew was so excited that he barely heard the announcement of the last award. “The Best of Show goes to Matthew,” the judge called. Matthew jumped from his seat again and ran to get the beautiful plaque.
The next week, Matthew went to the benefit dinner with his mom and placed his prize money in the fishbowl of donations. On the way home, Mom said, “Matthew, that was a very kind, unselfish thing you did.”
Matthew smiled. “It felt better to give it away than it did to win it.”
That night he looked up at his bulletin board as he lay in bed. Hanging next to his favorite baseball card was his big blue ribbon and plaque for Best of Show. He knew that each time he saw them, he would remember how it felt to make a small difference. He would think of his friend Aaron and hope that a cure for leukemia would be found.

Sharon Goodall tells a common story: “My schoolmates always want to know if I’m Catholic or Protestant. I tell them I’m neither; I’m Mormon. ‘Fine,’ they say. ‘Are you a Catholic Mormon or a Protestant Mormon?’ It almost sounds like a joke, until you have to live it. You try to get along with everybody, but there’s constant pressure to pick a side.”

It had rained. Teddy stopped and raised his nose to sniff. His black tail, combed by the wind, streamed behind him.
Bramble was more anxious to get out and get going. She leaped over the ditch and raced wildly through the field. Then even she stopped to sniff the marvelous smells. She could smell a mole and a gopher, as well as a deer. Where was Teddy? What a slow poke! she thought.
Teddy was leisurely making his way to Bramble. He never understood why she had to go so fast and never stopped to enjoy the fresh air, the trees, and the damp coolness of grass on her paws. It was all marvelous!
When Teddy caught up to Bramble, he sniffed her ear in a friendly greeting. Then both dogs went to investigate a promising gopher hole. Bramble was first to start digging. Then Teddy joined in and stuck his nose and paws into the hole she had started. This they both enjoyed. It didn’t matter that they rarely caught a gopher or a mole; just the joy of the hunt was enough.
Finally they tired of digging and moved on. Suddenly Bramble turned and leaped sideways into the long grass. Another leap. Then another, and another. Teddy was mystified. What on earth was she up to now? He went to investigate. As he got closer, Bramble leaped backward and landed right on top of him. Yawp!
Then a frog leaped past him and made for the marsh. Teddy and Bramble were too busy sorting out who had run into whom to follow it. After several playful growls and tumbles, they forgot all about the frog.
Then off Bramble went again, running through the long grasses, her ears flying out so, it looked like she might take off. Teddy traipsed on in the plodding, thoughtful way he had. Soon he lost track of Bramble. Oh well, he thought, I’ll probably find something much more interesting than she will.
Soon Teddy caught a familiar scent. It was a bird smell, and it was close to him. He cautiously moved forward, then stopped with a front paw raised and a back paw barely touching the ground. He stayed in this tottery position for a full minute. Then, sensing that the birds knew of his presence, he carefully inched forward.
Suddenly a bird flew up in his face and landed in the grass several feet behind him. Bramble would chase that bird, thought Teddy. But I smell something more interesting here. So he continued edging forward. And there at his feet was a nest. Three little birds were in it. They didn’t have feathers yet. Teddy was enchanted. He lay down and watched closely. The mother bird tried to scare him away by screeching over his head, but he ignored her and continued to watch the little ones. They sat in the nest and, if he breathed on them, opened their mouths wide. Teddy wagged his tail. He wanted to be their friend.
The baby birds were calling for food. Finally the mother bird couldn’t stand it any more. She flew down and landed on the opposite side of the nest from Teddy. He was surprised to see her, but he wasn’t really interested in catching her. She inched forward and began to feed her children. Teddy watched, fascinated. It looked like she was pushing food way down into their tummies. He was glad his mother had never done that to him.
The mother bird finished, then glared defiantly at him. Oh well, Teddy thought, it’s probably time to get back home, anyway.
Meanwhile, Bramble had discovered a deer scent that was getting stronger. She followed her nose and ran faster and faster. She was startled when she looked up to see the deer only a short distance in front of her. The deer was startled, too. It raised its tail like a white flag and leaped through the bushes. Yippee! thought Bramble. She started running and leaping, faster and faster, after the deer. When she panted to a stop, she had no idea how long she’d been running, or how far. She only knew that she was in a clearing in the forest and that she was very, very tired.
She heard a slight noise and raised her head. The deer was in the clearing, too, and two fawns were with her. Bramble was excited, but she was so tired that all she could do was lie there and watch them. The deer moved about, flicking their tails and their ears. This must be how Teddy feels when he just sits and enjoys the wind, she thought.
At that moment the wind changed direction, and the deer raised their heads in alarm. They smelled dog! With three tails waving, they turned their backs to Bramble and leaped deep into the forest. Bramble had no desire to follow. She was tired and wanted to get back to Teddy and tell him that she thought she knew why he liked to go slowly.
After leaving the baby birds, Teddy ambled back across the meadow, feeling happy and somewhat frisky. So when a rabbit scurried in front of him, he chased it. He felt his muscles stretch and the wind ruffle his fur. The rabbit quickly found its hole and disappeared, but not before Teddy had gotten a good run. His whole body tingled, and Teddy thought that now he knew why Bramble liked to run so much.
Just then he saw Bramble returning across the meadow, walking very slowly. She saw him and speeded up slightly. They met and went through their usual ear sniffing, nose touching, tail wagging ritual. Then they told each other of their day’s experiences. Bramble had decided that Teddy’s way of walking slowly and observing was nice sometimes, but she really preferred speed and excitement.
Teddy had decided that Bramble’s way of chasing and leaping about was nice sometimes, but he really preferred slow, quiet journeys of discovery. He promised to take Bramble to see the baby birds every day if she would be very quiet. Bramble said that she would if Teddy would come with her to the deer grove and play tag on the way there. They both agreed and knew that they had each learned a valuable lesson: They could learn a lot from each other.

“I had a close association with my brother and sisters. My older sister, Debbie, expected me to do what was right. My younger siblings, Merilee and Doug, expected that I would be an example. We all felt a responsibility to live righteously and participate in Church activities.” His extended family also held high expectations: “For example, when my oldest cousin left on a mission, he signed a $2 bill and passed it to the next cousin preparing to serve. That $2 bill passed through 16 cousins who served missions throughout the world, reminding each one that we were united in serving the Lord.”

But long unheralded were President Taylor’s understanding and love of people. Once, while president of the Council of the Twelve, after the Saints had reached Utah, two old and faithful brethren approached him about a strong and bitter quarrel between them. They had resolved to abide by whatever decision Brother Taylor might render. So they called on him, explained that they had seriously quarreled, and asked if he would listen to their story.
He said, “Brethren, before I hear your case, I would like very much to sing one of the songs of Zion for you.” A very talented and moving singer, President Taylor then sang a hymn to the men. Seeing its effect, he remarked that he never heard one of the songs of Zion but that he wanted to listen to one more. So the two brethren consented to hearing a second hymn. After the second song, President Taylor remarked that he had heard there was luck in odd numbers, so with their consent he would sing still another song. Afterwards he said, “Now, brethren, I do not want to wear you out, but if you will forgive me and listen to one more hymn, I promise to stop singing and will hear your case.” By the time he had finished with his fourth selection, the two brethren were melted to tears; they got up, shook hands, and asked President Taylor to excuse them for having called upon him. His singing had reconciled their feelings toward each other.

“Alex, it’s time to go to speech therapy,” Miss Jenkins said.
Alex ducked his head. Speech therapy was a special class he went to. He had trouble saying some words and sounds. So he had to practice them in speech class a few times a week. Every time he left his regular class, he felt so embarrassed!
He looked up at his teacher. “Could I skip it?” he whispered. “Just for today?”
Today, Mr. Timmons was coming to Alex’s class to talk about dinosaurs. Mr. Timmons worked at a museum with lots of cool dinosaur bones. He was even going to bring a bone that was thousands of years old! Alex didn’t want to miss out.
Miss Jenkins smiled. “You still need to go to your speech class. But you might get back in time for the last part of Mr. Timmons’s talk.”
Alex tried to smile back, but he couldn’t. He slowly walked to the speech therapy classroom. In class they practiced saying the same sound over and over. Learning about dinosaurs would have been more fun.
“I hate saying these stupid sounds,” he told his speech therapy teacher. “I feel like such a baby.”
“You’re not a baby at all,” she said. “We all need a little extra help sometimes. Did you know that I went to speech therapy when I was your age?”
That made Alex feel a little better. He worked hard for the rest of the class to practice his sounds.
When Alex got back to Miss Jenkins’s classroom, he saw his friend Courtney leaving.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
Courtney looked down. “I’m having trouble with reading. I have to go to a special reading class.” Courtney looked embarrassed.
“Hey, it’s all right,” Alex said. “I just got back from my speech class. I spent the whole time making the same sound over and over.” He scrunched up his nose.
“You did?”
He nodded. “I’ve been going to speech therapy for the last two years.”
“How come I didn’t know?” she asked.
Alex shrugged. “I never told anyone. I was afraid they would make fun of me.”
“I would never make fun of you,” Courtney said. “I’m glad you made it back in time to see the dinosaur bone. It’s really cool!” She waved. “I’ve got to go. See you later.”
Soon Alex found out that he and Courtney weren’t the only ones who went to other classes. Tommy went to a class to help him learn better social skills. And Bekah worked with a special teacher to help her arm get stronger after she hurt it.
Now Alex didn’t feel so bad about his speech class. He wanted to help the other kids feel better too. He practiced reading with Courtney and talked to Tommy at lunch. Everyone needed a little extra help sometimes, and that was OK!
This story took place in the USA.

Elder Mark E. Petersen stated, “Our whole religion is based upon the fact of immortality. Men have come back from the dead to accomplish the restoration of the gospel. Even God himself came.
“First came the Father, and Jesus Christ, his beloved Son. They visited Joseph Smith in the sacred grove near Palmyra, New York. They talked with him face-to-face and answered his questions.
“Moroni also came, repeatedly, visiting with and instructing the young prophet. Then came John the Baptist of New Testament times. Peter, James, and John were next. Moses came also to the Kirtland Temple. And then came Elijah. …
“Each one was himself physical evidence of the fact of immortality, but each one brought more than the proof of life after death. Each one came with a great purpose—far beyond the proof of immortality. The Father and Son opened this dispensation and provided the knowledge of the true nature of God—that he is a person and that man was made in his image.”
The Father introduced Christ to Joseph as his Only Begotten Son. They restored the knowledge of the true nature of God.
“Moroni revealed the location of the Book of Mormon. John the Baptist brought the Aaronic Priesthood. Peter, James, and John brought the Melchizedek Priesthood. Moses brought the keys of the gathering of the Jews to Palestine and the gathering of Ephraim and Manasseh.” And Elijah … what did he bring? The sealing power. (“The Mission of Elijah,” unpublished address to the Genealogical Department, n.d.)

The second winter (1848–49) lashed out at the Mormon settlers with severity. Both the Saints and their livestock suffered greatly. Firewood was difficult to obtain and food supplies dwindled. Some families boiled rawhide for nourishment. Those who had surplus food shared generously with others less fortunate and the colony survived.

The Pearl of Great Price teaches that Moses was shown all the inhabitants of the earth, which were “numberless as the sand upon the sea shore” (Moses 1:28). If Moses beheld every soul, then it seems reasonable that the Creator of the universe has the power to become intimately acquainted with each of us. He learned about your weaknesses and mine. He experienced your pains and sufferings. He experienced mine. I testify that He knows us. He understands the way in which we deal with temptations. He knows our weaknesses. But more than that, more than just knowing us, He knows how to help us if we come to Him in faith. That is why a young Hispanic woman suddenly realized that she was more than a speck in the universe when the Holy Spirit gave her a witness of the Restoration. She felt God’s love, that she was His daughter, and realized that He knew her. It also explains why the plan of salvation seemed familiar to my Japanese friend as the missionaries taught him and as the Holy Spirit confirmed his purposes on earth and his potential.

Let me give you a story of a woman in São Paulo, Brazil. She worked while going to school to provide for her family. I use her own words in telling this story. She says:

“The university in which I studied had a regulation that prohibited the students that were in debt from taking tests. For this reason, when I received my salary I would first separate the money for tithing and offerings, and the remainder was allotted for the payment of the school and other expenses.

“I remember a time when I … faced serious financial difficulties. It was a Thursday when I received my salary. When I figured the monthly budget, I noticed that there wouldn’t be enough to pay [both] my tithing and my university. I would have to choose between them. The bimonthly tests would start the following week, and if I didn’t take them I could lose the school year. I felt great agony. … My heart ached. I had a painful decision before me, and I didn’t know what to decide. I pondered between the two choices: to pay tithing or to risk the possibility of not obtaining the necessary credits to be approved in school.

“This feeling consumed my soul and remained with me up to Saturday. It was then that I remembered that when I was baptized I had agreed to live the law of tithing. I had taken upon myself an obligation, not with the missionaries, but with my Heavenly Father. At that moment, the anguish started to disappear, giving place to a pleasant sensation of tranquility and determination. …

“That night when I prayed, I asked the Lord to forgive me for my indecision. On Sunday, before the beginning of sacrament meeting, I contacted the bishop, and with great pleasure I paid my tithing and offerings. That was a special day. I felt happy and peaceful within myself and with Heavenly Father.

“The next day I was in my office; I tried to find a way to be able to take the tests that would begin on Wednesday. The more I thought, the further I felt from a solution. At that time I worked in an attorney’s office, and my employer was the most strict and austere person I had ever met.

“The working period was ending when my employer approached and gave the last orders of the day. When he had done so, with his briefcase in his hand he bid farewell. … Suddenly, he halted, and looking at me he asked, ‘How is your college?’ I was surprised, and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The only thing I could answer with a trembling voice was, ‘Everything is all right!’ He looked thoughtfully at me and bid farewell again. …

“Suddenly the secretary entered the room, saying that I was a very fortunate person! When I asked her why, she simply answered: ‘The employer has just said that from today on the company is going to pay fully for your college and your books. Before you leave, stop at my desk and inform me of the costs so that tomorrow I can give you the check.’

“After she left, crying and feeling very humble, I knelt exactly where I was and thanked the Lord for His generosity. I … said to Heavenly Father that He didn’t have to bless me so much. I only needed the cost of one month’s installment, and the tithing I had paid on Sunday was very small compared to the amount I was receiving! During that prayer the words recorded in Malachi came to my mind: ‘Prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it’ (Mal. 3:10). Up to that moment I had never felt the magnitude of the promise contained in that scripture and that this commandment was truly a witness of the love that God, our Heavenly Father, gives to His children here on earth.”

Historic Runnymede, set in the heart of England, provided the setting for a service project for the youth of the Staines England Stake.
Thirty-five youth and their adult leaders met to clear the overgrown woodland, which was obscuring the view of Runnymede, of historic significance as the spot were King John signed the Magna Charta in 1215. The beauty spot had been referred to by the National Trust of Great Britain, and the youth of the stake were helping to clear some of the undergrowth near the footpaths.
Accompanied by the buzz of chain saws and grunts, groans, and laughter, the participants soon cleared the pathway and collected dozens of sacks of debris from the wood, including old bicycle frames, rolls of wire, and even a burnt-out car. Their hard work paid off in significantly improving the picturesque area. Later a personalized copy of the Book of Mormon was presented to the National Trust warden who accompanied the youth on their service project.

Brent liked to keep track of all the books he read. Mrs. DeBry, his first-grade teacher, had a long, long, paper caterpillar that went around three walls of the room. Every time a child read a book, Mrs. DeBry wrote the name of the book and the name of the reader on a colored circle and pasted it on the caterpillar’s body. Brent already had thirty-four colored circles on it.

He had his own reading chart at home that he and his mom had made. Every time he finished reading a book, he carefully printed the title in one of the squares that zigzagged around the poster. Every fifth square offered a prize such as “buy an ice-cream cone” or “have a friend sleep over” or “go to the library.” The “grand prize” in the last square of the poster was a trip to the amusement park.

Warm spring sunshine filled the room as Brent sat down on the couch in the family room one April afternoon. Finding his copy of the Book of Mormon on the table by the couch, he called to his mother in the kitchen. “Mom, can you help me read?”

“Sure, Brent,” Mom said, coming in and ruffling his hair as she sat down beside him. “Where are you going to start today?”

“That’s easy to find. Yesterday I marked where I read with Dad.” He pointed to 1 Nephi 15:23.

Holding a card under the first line of verse 24, Brent began in his best reading voice: “‘And I said unto them that it was the word of God; and’”—he stopped and frowned. “What’s w-h-o-s-o?”

“It’s who and so put together,” Mom explained. “We’d probably say whoever.”

“Oh. ‘And whoso would’”—Brent stopped again. “What’s that word, Mom?”

“Hearken. It means to listen and obey.”

Brent continued, “‘… hearken unto the word of God, and would hold fast unto it, they would never’”—he sounded out perish, then looked up. “I don’t know if I can read all these hard words. My reading books at school don’t have words like these.”

“You’re right, Brent. First-grade reading books are much easier to read. They don’t have difficult words like temptations, fiery darts of the adversary, and destruction. But just think of how reading the Book of Mormon is helping you become a better reader.”

Brent struggled to remember the words Mom had just told him as he went on: “‘Neither could the temptations and the fiery darts of the adversary overpower them unto blindness …’ I can read temptations, and I know what it means, and I know what darts are, but what are ‘fiery darts of the adversary’?”

“Well, adversary means enemy, and the ‘adversary’ here means the devil,” Mom explained.

Brent’s shoulders slumped. “I’m only in 1 Nephi, and this is such a long book. … Do you think I’ll really be able to finish it before I’m baptized?”

“If you keep reading every day, I’m sure you will. Besides, your eighth birthday is months and months away, and you’ll be a second grader by then. But we’d better get back to this verse now.”

“‘… to lead them away to de-struc-tion.’”

“Brent, you are an excellent reader! Those are really difficult words in that verse. Do you think that you can read it all the way through now?”

Brent hardly hesitated at all as he read, “‘And I said unto them that it was the word of God; and whoso would hearken unto the word of God, and would hold fast unto it, they would never perish; neither could the temptations and the fiery darts of the adversary overpower them away to destruction.’” He grinned happily. “I understand it now too. It means that if we read the scriptures and obey the commandments, Satan won’t have power over us.”

“Good, Brent. You really do understand, even though some parts of it are hard.”

“Mom, this is the hardest book I’ve ever read. The longest too! What prize will I get when I finish it?”

“A testimony.”

“What actually is a testimony?”

“Well, a testimony is knowing deep inside that something is true. I have a testimony of the Book of Mormon. I know deep inside that it is truly the word of God.”

“How do you know?” asked Brent.

“Here. Listen to what Moroni promised every person who reads the Book of Mormon and prays about it.” She turned to Moroni 10:4 [Moro. 10:4] and read: “‘And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.’”

“Do you think a seven-year-old can have a testimony?” asked Brent.

“Brent, it doesn’t matter how old you are. You could be seven or a hundred seven. If you read the Book of Mormon and ask Heavenly Father if it’s true, He will answer your prayer. Through the Holy Ghost, you will receive your own testimony.”

“Let’s read more verses tomorrow,” said Brent, giving his mother a hug before running out the door to play.

And remember, we don’t outgrow those covenants. We can serve each other in every era of our lives. I heard recently of a young mother whose husband, a member of a bishopric, was sitting on the stand while she struggled with her restless children. A much older woman took the toddler on her lap and helped to quiet her. Such simple acts are part of building God’s kingdom. It’s what we do. It’s who we are as sisters of Relief Society. Whether we are serving as president of the Relief Society or as a teacher in Primary or as the Young Women camp director, we are fulfilling our sacred responsibility as Relief Society sisters. When we call to check on an elderly neighbor or provide encouragement and help to a young mother or include another family in our prayers, we are keeping our covenants.

(3) In far-off Europe, beyond a curtain of iron and a wall called “Berlin,” I visited, with a handful of members, a small cemetery. It was a dark night, and a cold rain had been falling throughout the entire day.
We had come to visit the grave of a missionary who many years before had died while in the service of the Lord. A hushed silence shrouded the scene as we gathered about the grave. With a flashlight illuminating the headstone, I read the inscription:
Joseph A. Ott
Born: 12 December 1870—Virgin, Utah
Died: 10 January 1896—Dresden, Germany
Then the light revealed that this grave was unlike any other in the cemetery. The marble headstone had been polished, weeds such as those which covered other graves had been carefully removed, and in their place was an immaculately edged bit of lawn and some beautiful flowers that told of tender and loving care. I asked, “Who has made this grave so attractive?” My query was met by silence.
At last a twelve-year-old deacon acknowledged that he wanted to render this unheralded kindness and, without prompting from parents or leaders, had done so. He said that he just wanted to do something for a missionary who gave his life while in the service of the Lord. I thanked him; and then I asked all there to safeguard his secret, that his gift might remain anonymous.