Gospel Story Finder

When I was 15, I auditioned for a play at school. I tried out for the lead role, but in the end, I didn’t get the part.
To make things worse, the teacher had already cast all the smaller roles, so there wasn’t a part for me at all. She made me the Student Director, and because she felt bad, she also added a new part—I got to come on stage for about 30 seconds as a silent nun.
Yep. I cried.
Looking back, I realize the Savior helped me through that disappointing time. He strengthened me to keep a good attitude and develop more humility. In the end, I enjoyed my time in the ninth-grade play.

Once in the long ago when all the animals lived in villages and talked together, a time came when no rain fell for many days, and the animals suffered greatly from thirst.
When the dry time was over, the lion called the animals together. “We must make a plan,” he said, “so we will never again have to suffer or die from thirst.”
“We could move to a different country,” suggested the ape.
“Too far! Too far!” complained the smaller ones. “We cannot travel that far with our short legs.”
Then the snake spoke. “We could try to sleep through the dryness and—”
“That would never suit us,” chimed in the other animals, plainly irritated.
So the jackal and the hyena talked together. “Let us dig a deep pool to hold water from the rainy times,” they said. “Then in the dry days we would have water to drink.”
“A good plan,” the lion agreed, nodding his head. “Let’s begin to dig at once. And since the hyena and the jackal thought of the plan, the hyena may dig first and the jackal will dig last.”
After the hyena dug his share, each of the other animals dug in turn. At last the big hole was almost finished. “Now it’s the jackal’s turn,” said the animals. But the jackal was nowhere to be seen. Since they couldn’t find him, the other animals quickly finished the digging.
The rains came and filled the big pool with sweet, clear water. “No one but those who have dug may drink from this pool,” declared the lion, and all of the other animals agreed.
All this while the jackal had been hiding near the pool, and he heard what the diggers said. So when the long dry season came again, the jackal wakened very early each morning and went to drink from the clear pool. And because no one ever saw him, he became even bolder and went into the water to swim. This made the water muddy. When the animals came to drink later in the morning, they were angry. “Who did this?” they demanded. “Who muddied the water?” But no one knew.
Then the tortoise responded, “If you’ll cover my shell with sticky beeswax, I’ll watch by the pool all night and catch the rascal who muddied our water.” So, with sticky wax smeared all over his dark shell, the tortoise settled at the edge of the pool to watch through the night.
In the morning the jackal came to drink. “Ah! A nice stepping stone,” he said, and he put his two front paws on the shell and bent his head to drink. But when he tried to leave he found that his paws were stuck fast in the wax on the tortoise’s shell. “Let me go!” he cried. “You can’t play tricks on me!”
The tortoise began to move.
“Let me go or I’ll kick your shell to pieces with my strong hind legs,” cried the jackal.
“Do as you please,” replied the tortoise.
The jackal kicked hard, and then both of his hind paws were also stuck fast to the tortoise’s shell. “If you don’t let me go I’ll bite you into little pieces,” cried the jackal.
“Try it!” the tortoise answered.
The jackal bit at the shell and his jaws, too, stuck fast in the wax. Then the tortoise slowly crawled along to the lion’s house with the jackal stuck fast to his shell.
When the animals learned who had muddied the water and who had been drinking without having done his share of the work on the pool, they were angry.
“Tomorrow he must die!” they shouted. The lion nodded. “But we will allow him to choose the way of his death.”
All night long the jackal tried to think of a way he could escape. When morning came he said, “I have seen a monkey kill a rat by swinging him by the tail and dashing him against a tree. I choose to be killed this way.”
“If that is your wish,” said the lion, “the hyena will swing you by the tail around and around and dash you against a tree!”
Now it happened that the wily jackal saved all the fat from the meat he had been given for his last meal, and with it he greased his tail to the very tip. So when the hyena grasped him by the tail and began to swing him around and around, he could not hold tightly. The jackal’s slippery tail went right through the hyena’s paws, and the jackal landed on the ground and went streaking away as fast as he could go.
The hyena and the other animals were so surprised that they didn’t have wits enough to spring after the jackal and give chase until after he had disappeared. The jackal never came back, and many years passed, with the pool always holding clear water for the animals to drink in dry times.
But the tortoise never forgot how the jackal had troubled the water. Even to this day it is said that tortoises can be found guarding the pools of Africa from intruders.

When Sierra P., 17, moved to an area where few members of the Church live, her new friends wanted to know about her beliefs. This scenario isn’t new, and sometimes we may wonder how we can share the gospel with our friends without being overbearing. During a recent conversation with the New Era, youth in Arkansas shared what they have learned.
Sierra discovered that she could best answer questions when she asked her friends about their beliefs first and then focused on similarities and differences. “We studied a little about the Church in U.S. history, and that made everyone curious, so they came to me with their questions,” she says. “I had an opportunity to explain the entire plan of salvation to my volleyball team. Some of them realized that we have a lot of faith and are good people.”

Last of all, I desire to share a bit about my father, a wonderful man who struggled for over 40 years with a wide range of serious addictive and destructive behaviors.

My father had limited involvement with the church during my youth, and as in some LDS homes, my dear mother had shouldered those responsibilities for our family. Unfortunately, my older brother and I had followed Dad's example and had enrolled in several prodigal son courses and were getting straight A's.

But there were events as I approached age 19, including the clarion call from President Spencer W. Kimball, and the example of some dear friends, that reached deeply into my heart, and I regrouped and sought a call to serve a mission.

No one in my family had served a mission, and I not only wondered if I could do it, I also wondered if my father would support me. I informed my parents of my desire to serve and to my utter surprise Father was delighted.

Without thinking, I innocently invited them to go with me into the temple when I would receive my endowment. As soon as that slipped from my mouth, I wondered how I could have said something so insensitive. I knew Dad would want to be there, but would be unable to manage it. His addictions had kept him from attending the temple sealing of each of my sisters, and from taking part in most of the priesthood ordinances that were done in our family.

I eventually received my call to serve in the California Sacramento Mission. Then, on the week I was to speak in sacrament meeting and to attend the temple for the first time before entering the mission home, my mother knocked on my bedroom door on a Sunday evening and asked that I join her and Dad in the front room.

I walked into the room and then it occurred to me what was about to happen. I wanted to jump in and tell Dad that he was a wonderful father and that I loved him. I knew he supported me as best as he could. I did not want him to be ashamed that he would not be with me in the temple.

Thankfully, before I could speak Dad announced that they had something to tell me. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a little square piece of paper. He informed me that they had just come from the office of our stake president where they had been issued their temple recommends.

Words cannot describe the overwhelming feelings of love and gratitude that came into my heart. It was like a hundred Christmas mornings wrapped up into that one moment! Now, as a side note, my parents had both received their endowments shortly before I was born, but Father had relapsed rather quickly back into his addictions and into shame, and had seemingly given up ever trying to return.

But before me was the marvel of a changed man. God can do miracles beyond our comprehension including the creation of life and universes that cannot be numbered. But there may be no miracle that can compare to that of the changed nature of one of His stray children.

Father stood at my side as my escort when we attended the temple that week. I did not know at that moment, but I think the temple went through him that day more than he went through it.

By the time I returned home two years later, Father was a special man. He had remained faithful and had already begun serving in what turned out to be nearly a decade as a high priests group leader in his ward and as an ordinance worker in the Idaho Falls Temple.

Sadly, when I was only 29 my mother passed away. Less than two years later Father was diagnosed with an advanced cancer and died when I was 32. But, to illustrate all of what I have spoken about in regard to change I desire to share a sacred event that occurred mere days before my father passed away.

While confined to a hospital bed in a nursing facility and knowing that his time on earth was short, Father announced that he wanted a family meeting and desired to hear each of his children's testimony before he left us.

We gathered at the appointed day and time in what felt like our own families version of Adam-ondi-ahman. Father, who presided with great majesty as he lay on his bed, asked one of us to pray. He taught us briefly then called upon us one at a time to bear our testimonies. At the conclusion of each testimony, he offered his love and heartfelt pride.

Then, the definitive evidence of whom he had become unfolded before us. We as a family, especially my older siblings who lived closer to Dad, had tried hard to sweetly care for his needs during those difficult days. We wanted him to feel our love, to feel safe, and to know we were there for him. It was our turn to give back to a man that had given so much to us.

As Dad lay in his bed with little of life left in him, he said, "Now, if any of you would like a father's blessing before I pass, I would love to give it." We gasped as we witnessed such Christlike love that was being offered to us at the very time that we felt it should be reversed.

One by one, each of us knelt at his bedside. Though unable to sit up, Father placed one of his large hands on our heads and with the power of God and the refined and beautiful love of a father-a changed and sanctified man, he blessed us.

Only a handful of days later our roles were reversed, and I had the sacred privilege of laying my hands upon his head and extending a release from this mortal life.

One of the priceless gifts our father had given us was proof that all of us can change. He had done it with God's help, and that was essential for us to understand. In his own way, Dad had implemented each of the principles of change I have discussed today.

In my early twenties, I faced a difficult decision and asked a friend for a priesthood blessing. He asked what the Lord had already told me, and I admitted that I could feel the presence of the Spirit but couldn't discern specific revelation. He then asked if I had ever asked the Lord to teach me what it felt like when He was speaking to me? I hadn't. But that night, I began to ask the Lord to teach me the language of revelation.
That was forty years ago, and over time I have come to know that what President Boyd K. Packer taught is true: That "if all you know is what you see with your natural eyes and hear with your natural ears, then you will not know very much."

May I tell you of a few of the leaders of our Church in Russia in order for you to appreciate the strength they represent to members and missionaries. Boris Mokhov, now one of Moscow’s district presidents, came to the Church along a path many have followed. Growing up in an avowedly atheistic society and home, and, after the 1985 institution of Gorbachev’s glasnost, unable to respond to the appeal of the Russian Orthodox Church, he was surprised when his oldest daughter met LDS missionaries. Two young elders had visited her high school class and made a presentation about the Church, inviting any interested to attend church services with them the following Sunday. Several of the young students did visit the church, among them, Natasha Mokhov.

Natasha told her older brother about this church, and he agreed to attend meetings with her. In time the missionaries taught them the missionary discussions, secured permission from the Mokhov parents, and baptized the two oldest children. Eventually the two younger sisters in the family also began going each Sunday to the meetings and were baptized. The parents were pleased to note a very positive change in the children’s attitudes and behavior. They had worried earlier about some of their older children’s choices of friends and activities. Now they felt increasing admiration for their resolution and integrity.

On occasion the Mokhov father and mother also attended church services. The children, many missionaries, and Church members helped the parents gain an assurance that they belonged with the children in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Finally their baptismal day arrived, and church service and growth followed. Approximately two months ago, the Mokhov parents and their four children were among thirty-one Moscow members of the Church to visit the Stockholm Temple, where they were sealed as a family for time and for eternity.

Sunny is an exchange student from Korea. She is living in a strange new land with a new language and a new family. School was hard and she had no friends to eat with or talk with or go to school activities with. She said: “I felt so miserable. Then I started thinking about praying. I had not thought about praying for help to Heavenly Father and for comfort and faith in myself. Then I began to read the Book of Mormon every morning and pray before I went to school. School began to be much easier. I was so surprised that I could understand better! I felt like someone was helping me while I was studying” (letter in possession of Young Women office).

Blessings come from holding true to our principles. When I was the president of the Cottonwood stake, one of our stake patriarchs was Dr. Creed Haymond. He would occasionally bear strong testimony of the Word of Wisdom. As a young man he was the captain of the University of Pennsylvania track team. In 1919 Brother Haymond and his team were invited to participate in the annual Inter-Collegiate Association track meet. The night before the track meet his coach, Lawson Robertson, who coached several Olympic teams, instructed his team members to drink some sherry wine. In those days, coaches wrongly felt that wine was a tonic for muscles hardened through rigorous training. All the other team members took the sherry, but Brother Haymond refused because his parents had taught him the Word of Wisdom. Brother Haymond became very anxious because he did not like to be disobedient to his coach. He was to compete against the fastest men in the world. What if he made a poor showing the next day? How could he face his coach?

The next day at the track meet the rest of the team members were very ill and performed poorly or were even too sick to run. Brother Haymond, however, felt well and won the 100- and 220-yard dashes. His coach told him, “You just ran the two hundred and twenty yards in the fastest time it has ever been run by any human being.” That night and for the rest of his life, Creed Haymond was grateful for his simple faith in keeping the Word of Wisdom.

I’m away at school, living quite a distance from home, and it gets very lonely. Recently, while the mail was being passed out, I was feeling especially alone and in need of comfort from my family. I said a small prayer, asking God to please let me receive a letter from home.
When the last letter was passed out, I was disappointed. But the mail carrier still had a magazine folded in her hands. It was my New Era. Father in Heaven had heard my prayer and sent me the greatest letter from home!
Nephi OlivaWhittier, California

Just about every day, you can find Stella and her family visiting the landlady in their apartment building. They aren’t related to her, but Stella and her brother call her “Grandma Cecilia.”
Stella says, “She is 83 years old, and she doesn’t have any children of her own.” Stella and her family noticed she needed help and decided to “adopt” her.
Stella always lends a helping hand by sweeping and mopping Grandma Cecilia’s floor. Having a clean home is an important way to stay healthy. So Stella is doing something that really helps Grandma Cecilia. “Jesus Christ served others,” says Stella, “so that inspired me to serve her. I know that Jesus Christ and His Father are happy when I serve.”
Stella followed Jesus by helping her neighbor. Turn the page to read a story about how Jesus helped others.

Life was going according to plan.
I was just about to complete my mission. During the previous 18 months, my testimony had been strengthened, and my vision of the plan of salvation had expanded. I had never felt closer to my Savior and my Heavenly Father. Life just seemed blissful.
Sure, my family and I were experiencing our share of trials, but overall, I was excited and had a lot of plans for what would come next. But then I came home. And the shock was pretty brutal. I struggled adjusting to everyday life again. I worried incessantly about making good choices and being perfect in my obedience. I put so much pressure on myself to stay at the high spiritual level that I had throughout my mission because I feared that if I didn’t, I would regress spiritually.
As the pressure I put on myself increased, I started experiencing anxiety and panic attacks. They became more and more frequent, and I eventually felt like I was drowning.
Unfortunately, I hid my feelings from my family and friends. I knew that anxiety and depression were nothing to be ashamed of, but I felt so out of control and lost that I didn’t even know how to express what I was experiencing to seek help.
Thankfully, the Lord is always there to guide us when we turn to Him. After some pondering and prayer, I felt prompted to open up to my brother and his wife. They helped me recognize that I wasn’t as “crazy” as I thought and that emotional struggles can happen to anyone.
Sister Reyna I. Aburto, Second Counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency, testified of this truth: “My dear friends, it can happen to any of us—especially when, as believers in the plan of happiness, we place unnecessary burdens on ourselves by thinking we need to be perfect now. Such thoughts can be overwhelming. Achieving perfection is a process that will take place throughout our mortal life and beyond—and only through the grace of Jesus Christ.”1
As I prayed to Heavenly Father for guidance, I realized that I needed to give the resources He has provided for us a chance, and I needed to learn and change for the better. Gratefully, at that time I had the chance to attend the Church’s emotional resilience course. The opportunity seemed to come at just the right time, and I don’t believe it was a coincidence.
In the course manual, emotional resilience is defined as the following:
“The ability to adapt to emotional challenges with courage and faith centered in Jesus Christ.
“Helping yourself and others the best you can.
“Reaching out for additional help when needed.”2
In other words, emotional resilience is something we all need.
To me, this inspired course is a clear sign that Heavenly Father is aware of the trials we are facing nowadays as members of the Church of Jesus Christ. He wants to be able to help us keep moving forward on the path back to Him. Seeing the many beautiful aspects of this course helped me realize just how deeply Heavenly Father knows each of us and our individual needs, and I immediately felt peace as I started studying. The course teaches clear and powerful eternal truths that can be applied to our lives when dealing with mental health issues, whether it be ourselves or someone we love.
One of the teachings that struck me is found in chapter 9, “Providing Strength to Others.” This chapter is what helped me finally reach out for more help. It teaches the principle of serving one another. I learned how important it was to serve others by validating their feelings, emotions, and opinions and reaching out with empathy and understanding. I also realized that I needed to trust others to help me in my struggles.
When I was able to put these ideas into practice and open up to my family and friends about my mental health struggles, I was surprised that they were so compassionate and nonjudgmental. I received so much support from them.
I feel like my anxiety would have taken a deeper and darker turn if I hadn’t shared my challenges with my loved ones. And this experience helped me reach out and empathize with others about their worries and problems too.
I find it funny how when I came back from my mission, I was so worried about losing the “spiritual ground” that I had gained during my mission, because now I realize that coming home was just the beginning of a new chapter where I could find new ways to deepen my faith.
My personal relationships with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ have grown and deepened so much since I came home, especially because of the principles I learned in this emotional resilience course and through relying on Heavenly Father and the Savior for help. They feel much more real and present in my everyday life.
I’ve learned and accepted that as children of God, we constantly change, learn, and evolve. And yet through our life changes, Heavenly Father is unchanging. He didn’t expect me to be perfect on my mission, and He doesn’t expect that now. He simply loves me and wants me to continue to strive toward Him and do the best I can on my journey back to Him.
Now, just because I took this emotional resilience course, that doesn’t mean that I don’t have any more anxiety or panic attacks or moments when I feel overwhelmed by fear of the future. I still do at times. But now I recognize these patterns and have learned tools to help address them in a healthier way, improving the quality of my daily life.
In the end, this course taught me coping mechanisms for times when I experience anxiety and challenges. It taught me to have patience and compassion for myself and my imperfections. And I learned to understand how God sees me and to not be terrorized by the unknowns of the future.
Through both professional and heavenly help, I’ve come to realize that we have the necessary tools to know how to “act … and not to be acted upon” (2 Nephi 2:26) by our emotions and feelings as we continue to move toward Christ.

Sometimes it is hard to feel this love. A young woman I know looked like she had everything going for her. She had just won a student-body election, she had auditioned for the madrigal choir and made it, and she had been chosen as the junior prom queen. She went home from school one day and threw herself on her bed in tears. Her mother asked what was wrong, and the daughter blurted out, “I feel like a failure; nobody likes me; I don’t have any talents; I can’t keep up in my classes; and besides that, I’m ugly.” No one would suspect that she was feeling insecure, lonely, and inadequate; but most teens feel this way at one time or another.

Pornography also inflicts mortal wounds on our most precious personal relationships. In his talk to men of the priesthood last October, President Hinckley quoted the letter of a woman who asked him to warn Church members that pornography “has the effect of damaging hearts and souls to their very depths, strangling the life out of relationships” (in Conference Report, Oct. 2004, 64; or Ensign, Nov. 2004, 60).

At a recent stake conference a woman handed me a similar letter. Her husband had also served in important Church callings for many years while addicted to pornography. She told of great difficulty in getting priesthood leaders to take this problem of pornography seriously: “I got all kinds of responses—like I was overreacting or it was my fault. The bishop we have now has been great. And now after 15 years my husband is trying to deal with his addiction, but now it is 15 years harder to quit for him, and the loss has been incalculable.”

Nearly 20 years ago, while I was teaching seminary in the small town of Parowan, Utah, I had a dream that changed my life. Now I must add that most of my dreams are silly little things that I can't even remember in the morning. But this seemed different and I certainly remembered it.

I was teaching the Doctrine and Covenants that year. It was near the end of the school year and the next day I would be teaching Section 133 about the Lord's second coming. Go ahead and turn to Section 133.

I had gone to bed with the famous Harry Anderson painting of the Savior's second coming on my mind. This is the same picture that Elder Neil L. Andersen referred to in the April 2011 General Conference. Here are a few of the verses from Section 133. Notice the verbs, the action words. These are invitations from the Lord to act and a warning not to wait until we are acted upon (2 Nephi 2:14, 26).

Verse 4: "prepare ye, prepare ye, O my people..."Verse 5: "Go ye out from Babylon. Be ye clean that bear the vessels of the Lord."Verse 6: "...And let every man call upon the name of the Lord."Verse 10: "...Awake and arise and go forth to meet the Bridegroom..."Verse 11: "Watch, therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour..."Verse 15: "...let all things be prepared before you..."Verse 16: "Hearken and hear, O ye inhabitants of the earth..."Verse 19: "Wherefore, prepare ye for the coming of the Bridegroom; go ye, go ye out to meet him."

I went to sleep with these action words in my mind. "Go." "Prepare." "Be." "Call." "Awake." "Arise." "Watch." "Hearken." "Hear." That's where my dream comes in. I dreamed that it was the second coming. I was standing on the front porch of our red brick, east-facing home. I was there with my wife Michelle and my two oldest children, Michael and Jessica. They were, at the time, my only two children.

In my dream, I saw something glorious in the distance. It was coming from the east and high up in the clouds. All of a sudden, Michelle, who was holding Jessica in one arm and holding hands with Michael, began gracefully floating up to meet the Savior. As I stood there watching, an overwhelming feeling of love and peace came over me. There was the woman I love and my children being "caught up" to meet the Lord "and received into the cloud" (Doctrine and Covenants 76:102). They were focused on Him. His glory seemed to encompass them. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

I was so caught up in the sublime scene that it was some time before it dawned on me that I was still standing on my front porch. Perhaps the Lord hadn't noticed me? So I began to gently rock back and forth. Nothing! I was still standing on my front porch. So I thought, "Faith without works is dead" (James 2:17). So I began jumping into the air, thinking that once I got airborne I would keep going until I caught up with Michelle and the kids. But each time I leapt into the air, I came solidly back down to the ground.

Then something very frightening dawned on me. Michelle and the kids had not even looked back. They had no idea I was still standing on the front porch. They were so focused on the Savior that I was a forgotten memory.

It was at this point I looked down from the skies and noticed, for the first time, this giant wall of fire in the distance. It was rolling towards me. I began to jump up in earnest now. Nothing! Each time I simply came back down to the cement porch. I looked at Michelle one last time. I felt the heat of the rolling wall of fire. I awoke!

I lay in my bed covered in sweat. My legs were sore and cramping. I rolled over, woke Michelle, and told her about my dream. Now, I don't know what I expected her to say, but what she said cut me to the bone. After listening to me tell her about my dream, Michelle said, "Sounds like you'd better repent." Then she rolled over and went back to sleep.

While sleep came to her almost instantly–a blessing of a righteous life–sleep would not come to me for the rest of that night. I ended up getting up, going into the other room, and with paper and pencil (paper and pencil are very old versions of the iPad) I began making a list of all my flaws, faults, imperfections, and, yes, sins. It was a long list.

Why was I writing? I have learned the value of writing down inspiration. Elder Richard G. Scott stressed the importance of writing down inspiration as it comes. He said: "I believe that you can leave the most precious, personal direction of the Spirit unheard because you do not respond to, record, and apply the first promptings that come to you."[2]

So under the direction of the Spirit, I made my long list of needed changes. I began to feel overwhelmed. I realized that I was not yet the kind of man Heavenly Father would have me be. Michelle was right. "I'd better repent!" I had postponed, put off, and ignored improvements in my life long enough. The dream reminded me that now "is the time for men to prepare to meet God; yea, behold the day of this life is the day for men to perform their labors" (Alma 34:32). There were course corrections I needed to make in my life and it was past time to start.

At 92 years old, Sister Marie Giles is a shining example of unwavering faith, commitment and service.
During the lockdown, she has sewn scrub bags and masks, knitted hats for Syrian refugees, baby hats and blankets for Poole Maternity Unit and gloves for the homeless. She has also contributed food for Hope for Food, a local organisation which serves the vulnerable and homeless in the community. She has made meals for the missionaries, cakes, pickles, jams and lemon curd for ward members and for those to whom she ministers.
Sister Giles also cares for her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She has recently organised a temple week for her family who are spread out over three continents. Realising that they can’t presently attend the temple, she has arranged for a week of daily temple/family history activities. This will start with a virtual fireside to introduce and motivate all the members of the family, including of course, the young great-grandchildren.
Sister Giles joined the Church, against the wishes of her family who initially disowned her, after being tracted by the missionaries 62 years ago.
Since then, she has served as branch and district Primary president, as a stake Relief Society president, as a stake Young Women president, in the mission Relief Society presidency, as a Relief Society teacher, as a chorister, as a Sunday School teacher, as a visiting teacher and ministering sister, as a family history consultant and for the last thirty years as a temple worker.
Neither age, a recent diagnosis of illness nor current COVID conditions have halted Sister Marie’s determination to serve as she always has.
What an inspirational example of a continuing life of service.

Courage is one of Joseph Smith’s special qualities. Without it, he would have shrunk from carrying out his remarkable role. At about age seven, he had a gravely infected leg. Amputation seemed inevitable. He refused alcoholic anesthetics when his leg bones were surgically and painfully treated in a new technique. By the way, that thoughtful little boy asked his mother to leave the room so she wouldn’t have to witness his suffering.
For Joseph’s ailment, the best medical help available in America was surprisingly just a few miles away: Dr. Nathan Smith, founder of Dartmouth’s medical school and the experienced pioneer of this advanced technique (see Le Roy S. Wirthlin, “Joseph Smith’s Boyhood Operation: An 1813 Surgical Success,” Brigham Young University Studies, spring 1981, pp. 131–54; see also “Joseph Smith’s Surgeon,” Ensign, Mar. 1978, pp. 59–60). He led the team who saved Joseph’s leg, including for the grueling march of Zion’s Camp.

Elder Holgado is an example of being able to serve regardless of personal circumstances. He was born with a rare genetic disorder, which precluded him from serving a teaching mission. Elder Holgado was called as a service missionary and volunteered in the bishops’ storehouse, where he helped others get the assistance they needed. He stocked shelves, bagged vegetables, and crushed cardboard boxes.

As Elder Holgado spoke in sacrament meeting after his mission, he shared that “God needs service missionaries. He needs people to love and serve others. These people stock toilet paper, bag broccoli, build furniture, and are good to people.”

A little while back, my friend and I were going to the girls’ washroom at school to wash our hands. We had just been doing an art project and had paste on our fingers. But when we got to the bathroom the sink was a complete disaster! There was soapy water everywhere. My friend and I quickly decided that we should clean it up before washing our hands. When we finished I felt good inside. I have just been baptized and I knew it was the Holy Ghost giving me that warm feeling. I am trying to act more Christlike every day.

When Gordon and Del [Spencer’s brothers] put up hay … they would pitch it up on the wagon and Spencer would tromp it down. The older boys liked to reach the wagon at the same time, both with huge forks of hay. One would pitch his hay on top of Spencer, knocking him down, then the other would add his load. They would laugh while Spencer picked himself out, infuriated, threatening terrible punishments when he grew up . …

Occasionally he would enjoy a minor revenge. One hot Monday afternoon, hearing the Primary bell across the fields, Spencer said, “I’ve got to go to Primary.” As Spencer told the story years later: “They said, ‘You’re not going to Primary.’ I said, ‘If Pa were here, he’d let me go to Primary.’ Any they said, ‘Well, Pa is not here, and this is one time you’re not going to Primary.’ Gordon was seven years older than I was and Del was five . … They kept throwing the hay up and it all piled in the center of the wagon. They said, ‘What’s the matter with you up there?’ There was no sound. They looked off across the field and I was halfway to the meetinghouse.” (Pages 37 and 38.)

When each of my children turned eight, I took them on a backpacking trip. I’ll have to say they were great adventures that were full of triumphs and tragedies. Some of the triumphs include fording a stream with a backpack, climbing higher on the mountain than their brother, starting a fire, and just making it home alive. Some of the tragedies include skinned knees, muddy feet, overloaded backpacks, and unexpected snowstorms. As part of this tradition we documented the adventure with a picture wearing our backpacks in the front of our home. When my son James turned eight, he was very excited for the adventure. During the photo op in the front of our home he reached out and held my hand. To be honest, it melted my heart a bit. I thought that was sweet of him to do during the picture. However, during the entire hike that day and throughout the trip he frequently would hold my hand. Later that summer, I took James with his older brothers backpacking. To my surprise he continued to frequently hold my hand while hiking. At first his brothers didn’t say anything. Then, they teased him about holding my hand, but James ignored them. Finally, one of his brothers asked him why he held my hand during the hike. I will always remember his profound eight-year-old response. Without hesitation and unapologetically James said, “Because it makes me go faster.” He was right. It did make him go faster. As we hiked, I could support him, guide him, pull him along a bit and even steady him if he was a little off balance.