Gospel Story Finder

My big brother and I were sealed to our parents in the Provo Utah Temple. We drove for a long time to get there. When we went into the temple, Grandma Lee, who serves at the temple, and another nice lady took my brother and me to a special room. We listened to stories, had cookies and punch, and watched a movie about temples. Then we dressed in white clothes—I even wore a little white tie. The nice lady took us to the room where our parents and other family members were. When we were sealed to each other there, I felt happy. I know that our family will be together forever if we keep the commandments.

Since I was a youth, serving a mission was always something I wasn’t too sure about, but as I neared the age of 19, I knew I had to make a decision. My parents suggested I visit the islands they were originally from and focus on whether I really wanted to serve a mission or pursue a different path.
When I arrived in Nuku‘alofa, Tonga, I was happy to see my extended family and visit with them. I wasn’t always thinking about serving a mission, but it was still in the back of my mind. I got to stay with my grandparents, who live in a village called Pahu. I love my grandparents and my relatives I stayed with. They are the nicest people and are very caring. They are also members of another faith.
As time passed and I stayed with them longer, I began to recognize differences between their religion and mine. A lot of times my relatives would tease me about certain things I believe in as a Latter-day Saint. Sometimes they would tell me that instead of serving a mission I should enroll in school.
I started to feel that I really did need to make a decision about a mission, but for me it wasn’t an easy decision to make. One of the reasons I was always scared about serving a mission was that I felt I’d never really known enough about the gospel. I pictured myself standing in front of an investigator and not knowing how to answer his questions. To make matters worse, I wasn’t really sure that I even had a testimony of the gospel.
One morning I received a letter from my older brother Atolo Si‘i, who had recently returned from a mission. I had written him a few weeks earlier asking him for advice in gaining a testimony. I wanted to know if the gospel was true. I felt that if I were to serve a mission, even if I didn’t know everything about the gospel, if I at least had my own testimony of the Church and of the Book of Mormon, no one could disagree with me about that.
My older brother, Atolo Si‘i, has always been a good example to me. I read the letter and the advice he gave me. I took it seriously. In the letter, after telling me how the family was and how everything was going with him, he said:
“I was thinking of advice I could give you. One thing I think you could do is: while reading the Book of Mormon, ask God directly in prayer, ‘Is the book true?’ Pay attention to how you feel. If you feel good, that means something.” After I read what he had written, it seemed quite simple: read the Book of Mormon and pay attention to the way I feel, and I would receive my answer.
That afternoon, after I returned from work, I went to my room and read over my brother’s letter again. I read over his simple advice a few times. Then, after opening with prayer, I began to read in the Book of Mormon. When I had read a few chapters, I knew it was time for me to kneel and ask my Father in Heaven if this book was indeed true and to know if the Church was true.
When I finished praying, I paid close attention to the way I was feeling and tried to recognize anything different. I stood for a while in the center of my room just waiting, but nothing came. I hadn’t eaten yet, so I decided to walk to the store down the road and grab some food.
As I walked down the road, I suddenly felt this warm feeling inside. I remember lifting my head up toward the end of the road and smiling and just knowing inside that the Book of Mormon was true and that this Church was the same Church Jesus Christ established while on the earth.
After returning from the store I had the thought: I truly believe right now that the gospel is true and that the Book of Mormon is true. I realized that right then in my life I could actually be part of our Heavenly Father’s plan and help build the kingdom of God. I could share with others the exact feelings I had felt while walking down the road.
After that day I continued to prepare myself and do all I could to study the gospel and build my testimony. I sent in my mission papers and eventually received my call and left on my mission.
I was continuously blessed by the people I worked with and by my Heavenly Father, who guided me every step of the way. I was able to explain the gospel when I needed to. I could tell others about the Book of Mormon and why I believe it is true. I bore testimony that Joseph Smith was a prophet and that he really did see God the Father and His Son Jesus Christ.
I know I was blessed to serve a mission. We may not know everything about the gospel, and our testimonies may not be as strong as we’d like, but as we nourish what we have and continue to study and prepare ourselves, as we lean toward our Heavenly Father in faith and in prayer, we can be assured that when we need Him the most, He will always be right there.

Blessed to be the mother of five children, eight grandchildren and 3 great-grandchildren, 77-year-old Carol Dunkley once enjoyed a life of physically active service and was a keen gardener. Nowadays, Carol, a member of the Townsville First Branch, which is part of the Townsville District in North Queensland, Australia, does what she can to be of service to the Lord because her body has developed some restrictions.
She remembers well the day in 2010 when a neurologist announced her ailment: “You have Parkinson’s.” Having had a hip replacement three years prior, Carol had suspected something was amiss with her hip because she couldn’t walk properly and went to her GP, who referred her to a specialist—so this diagnosis came as a shock.
The disease doesn’t yet have a cure. Initially, Carol had trouble walking; unfortunately, it progressed to instability and mobility uncertainty.
“Thankfully there are medications and surgical procedures that greatly help,” said Carol. She began a course of medications and felt much better. But frustrations became part of her life as she had to rely on others to do for her what she could no longer do herself—like gardening.
“I know that it is not curable. No surgery can fix it. One of the greatest lessons I have learnt is to take each day as it comes. If it is a good day, my prayer of thanks is given. If it has been a bad day – well tomorrow should be better. If things get too bad, I read. It takes me away from my problems and into another world; I know my faith is a great advantage. I am not alone. His help and comfort are always there. There is a lot to be thankful for, even though at times I have to look a bit harder for the blessings,” said Carol.
With physical service at a limit, Carol looked for a way she might still serve the Lord in a meaningful way—she found indexing—and for the past nine years has experienced great joy in helping to gather Israel in this important effort.
Carol’s journey to family history service has been a long time coming. Her father passed away when she was seven, and unfortunately the connection between her mother and her paternal family ceased because of a rift in the family. She does wish she had taken the time to gather information from her living relatives about their experiences and connections when they were still alive.
Married life in England was a struggle and she and her husband made the decision to immigrate to Australia in 1966 as ‘10-pound pommies’—the amount paid to each of them to travel by ship to relocate in Australia. Once settled in their new land, they looked for religion. Almost unbelievably, missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints knocked on their door and were eagerly invited in. As gospel principles and doctrines were taught, they felt familiar to the couple, and they loved learning about the covenants they could make with Heavenly Father.
Carol said: “When we were taught the law of tithing, I was sure we would starve. But with faith we obeyed and opportunities to improve our financial affairs started. A promotion at work for Michael, my husband—and the blessings just kept coming. Tithing is not about money; it is about faith. We were baptized and never looked back. It was one of the best decisions of our lives.
“The gospel opened a whole new world for me. The promise of Elijah—turning the hearts of the children to the fathers, and the [hearts of the] fathers to the children . . . my heart was turned to my ancestors.”
When Carol first searched for her ancestors 50 years ago—it was difficult and expensive, especially when looking for English relatives while she was living in Australia. FamilySearch has been such a blessing to her; no need now to sit and read microfilms to search out her family.
She said, “To date I have indexed 95,614 names and reviewed 19,050, a total of 114,664.
“I mostly index the English records as I am familiar with the names of places and also the English surnames. . . . It has also been amusing—at one stage I was going into some English records and the very early ones turned out to be written in Latin.
“At first, I just sent the batch back! Then I thought, ‘maybe I will take up this challenge.’ So, I reviewed the batches to get the feel of the records. Then I googled the Latin words for ‘birth,’ ‘marriage,’ ‘death,’ ‘mother’ and ‘father,’ which enabled me to complete the indexing, this made me feel quite pleased with myself that I had managed to index some records written in Latin.
“I can remember the thrill I felt when I saw a copy of the original marriage certificate of my grandfather on a microfilm and saw his signature and that of my grandmother. I’m sure that my grandad would never have thought that one day his granddaughter would be sitting at a microfilm reader looking at that same certificate image from faraway Australia.”
A few workshops after Carol’s Sunday meetings have been held and the youth were also invited. Carol finds it amazing to see how confident young people are when using computers. Now, a number of their Church youth make valiant efforts to index, and really enjoy the work.
“Who knows,” said Carol, “when it is my time to move on to the next stage of my eternal journey, I might just meet up with one of those sisters or brothers in the gospel whose name I’ve indexed, and who took the opportunity to accept the gospel ordinances as their name was taken through the temple. What a joy that would be!
“When I index names in FamilySearch, I pray that there may be many who have had the excitement of finding their ancestors on FamilySearch through the efforts of all those volunteers who engage in the indexing work of salvation.”

Illustration by Steven Keele
I was traveling from Mexico to Montana, USA, and had a layover in Denver, Colorado. I walked around the airport, looking through huge windows at planes landing and taking off. I was nervous because I had never flown before. The airport seemed really big.
I looked at my ticket and realized I had two hours before my flight would depart. I decided to find a place to sit down and read until I boarded the plane. I felt scared as I looked for a place to sit. Almost every seat was taken. I decided to sit next to an older lady who seemed to be alone. She was the only one who didn’t seem scary to me.
An hour or so passed before I decided to talk to her. I introduced myself; she seemed really nice and eager to talk to me about her grandchild’s accomplishments. She asked me a little bit about myself, and I told her all about my life in Mexico. Then I had a sudden urge to share the gospel with her. She asked me about my religion, and I told her that I was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
She said she had never heard of it.
I smiled and said, “We are also known as Mormons.”
She immediately changed her attitude. Her facial expressions and the way she talked to me changed. She didn’t seem to know what to say. I had a feeling that our conversation had come to an end, but I tried to keep talking to her. I asked her about her religion. She said without hesitation, “I am Catholic.”
She then said, “I don’t understand. You are such a nice girl. You seem decent. Why, then, would you want to be a Mormon?”
I was shocked by this comment, and I didn’t know how to respond. I offered a silent prayer, asking Heavenly Father to help me explain what being a Latter-day Saint meant to me. I told her that I loved being a member of the Church, and because of the teachings of the gospel, I was able to be a better person and see things with perspective.
She looked surprised and said, “Mormons don’t believe in God.”
I tried not to laugh at this comment; instead I smiled and realized that this was my chance to share the truth with her. I explained some of our basic beliefs. I taught her about the plan of salvation and the importance of families. She still didn’t seem convinced, so I decided to bear my testimony to her. There in a huge airport, I was blessed with the courage to share my testimony about Joseph Smith, about the living prophet and apostles, and about the love I feel toward the gospel and the Book of Mormon.
I looked at the clock. It was time for me to catch my plane.
That afternoon strengthened my testimony in a way that I had never experienced before. I was happy that I shared my testimony with her and grateful that I was able to help change her mind about members of our Church. I can now be more confident when someone asks me about the Church.

In those times, we lived in very difficult economic circumstances. My mother, who was separated from my father, worked to provide for us. Despite working at three different jobs, she barely earned enough to provide for our needs. Nevertheless, as an active member of the Church, my mother was willing to fulfill her baptismal covenants and obey the commandments that God has given us, among which is the law of tithing. So even though it was difficult for her and for all of the family, she paid tithing.
My mother also loved to invite the missionaries over to eat at our home. Sometimes she would invite more than 10 missionaries. And a miracle occurred in our home that is similar to the miracle in the New Testament when the Lord fed the 5,000 with five loaves and two fishes, and there was more than enough to satisfy their hunger. That is what happened with my family when the missionaries ate in our home. When we trusted the Lord, somehow there was enough.

A few days before Christmas, I went to a busy shopping area in Buenos Aires to do some errands. Like everyone else, I stopped to look at the Christmas decorations that seemed to be everywhere. “If only I had those decorations to get my house ready for Christmas,” I thought.
On the way home, my bus stopped at a small square. On a bench sat a well-groomed young man with nice clothes and shoes. He was smiling, talking to, and most of all, listening to an old man with long hair and a beard. The old man’s clothes were dirty and torn, and he had no shoes. The bench seemed to be his home.
I thought about the stark contrasts between the two men—in appearance, age, and walk of life. What a pleasure it was to see them talking together, especially because the old man had a lot to say and really seemed to be enjoying the conversation. At that moment I felt that Christmas had arrived. There were no twinkling lights, no ornaments, no wreaths, no Christmas trees—just someone giving the gift of his time, just listening to another with respect. There was no disdain, no prejudice, no selfishness, no discrimination, no arrogance.
It was then that I realized we can give such gifts of love all through the year. We can kindle little lights of hope for those who need them.
I vowed never again to allow getting ready for Christmas to keep me from living Christmas.

Most people find that serving in the Church’s youth programme is rewarding, uplifting, exciting and full of surprises. One family’s surprise came when they realised that six of them were serving in the Young Women’s organisation at the same time.
Carole Fullwood (nee Sayers) was thrilled to be called as Exeter Ward’s Young Women president. At the same time, one of her daughters, Kimberley Fullwood, was serving as the Plymouth Stake’s Young Women president.
Carole says, “Imagine my delight when my eldest daughter, Holly Fullwood-Chalkley, also announced that she had been called as Chorley 1st Ward’s Young Women president, meaning we could share ideas and experiences.”
Debbie continues, “Carole and I were talking about our Church responsibilities. She told me of hers and her daughter’s callings. I was amazed as my daughter, Esther Wall, is Liverpool Stake’s Young Women president, while I am currently serving as a Young Women counsellor to Ruth Fullwood, also my daughter, who is the president of Young Women in Southport Ward!”
Carole finishes, “‘When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God (Mosiah 2:17).’ It’s exciting to see our children accepting opportunities to serve and realising they have the same enthusiasm as we do for our callings. The greatest reward is the happiness felt when we serve.”

Unfortunately, all such carefree adventures soon came to an end when our paying passengers arrived from the United States for the scheduled raft trip. We had to disappoint them because a serious drought had made the raft expedition impossible. Instead, we decided to motor up the Cuyuni (Ku-you-knee) and Chicunan (chee-kuu-non) rivers in a 30-foot dugout canoe, hike over a mountain range, and then float down the Carrao River past Angel Falls, the highest falls in the world.
As we motored up into the jungle, dragging the heavy canoe bodily upstream over rocky rapids, I prayed for protection from rocks, electric eels, and piranhas. The river got lower and lower. Soon we had to get out and push, pull, and dig for clearance in the sand as we waded through the dark, infested waters from deep pool to deep pool. The going was so slow that we began to wonder if we would make it. The scenery, however, was beautiful, and we saw an incredible array of wildlife—everything from capuchino monkeys to caimens (a kind of crocodile) to orange-breasted falcons to giant click beetles—and a whole army of other jungle citizens of the feathered, furry, and scaly kinds.
All the hard going put us two days behind schedule. Worse, in the process of pulling, pushing, and straining the canoe up the almost dry river, I tore a major muscle in my back. The pain was almost unbearable. We finally made it to the crossing, a mountain range covered with jungle. Everyone had his own load to carry, so I had to carry my own 80- to 90-pound load. I couldn’t take any pain killers or I could never have gotten over the range. So I hung in the back of the group and cried with pain the first day. The next morning I got up earlier than anyone else and had Terry help me on with my pack. All alone I marched up the small creek bed we were using as a trail. The pain was the worst I’ve ever experienced. I sang hymns to myself and prayed the whole way up. I was in such pain that I couldn’t stop to take my pack off or bend over or anything. So I trudged on. Shortly my prayers were answered. My back became numb. My leg stopped bleeding, and before I knew it I was over the mountain, lying on the river beach. I know that my Heavenly Father eased the pain and lifted me with energy to march up over that hot, steep, 2,000-foot mountain with seeming ease and comfort. The rest of the trip the passengers, all non-Mormon, called me Moses as I hobbled around with the help of a large wooden staff. They asked why I didn’t drink coffee or rum, and that gave me a chance to tell them about the Church.

Many years ago, when Sister Teh was pregnant with our first child, I started to worry about how I was to pay for the doctor and hospital bill. Even though we were both working money was always tight. Every month after setting aside funds for tithing and other offerings, rent, utilities, transportation, school, and food- there was nothing left for savings. During this time, I was working full-time during the day and went to college at night until 9:30 pm. Then, a job opportunity came up. It was to sell fruits in the market from 10:00 pm until 5:00 am the following morning. I took the job because it fit perfectly with my schedule!

So, for the next two months, I would be at work from 7:30 am to 4:00 pm. Go to school from 6:00-9:30 pm then go to my second job from 10:00 pm to 5:00 am. I will go home and shower and have breakfast and then the cycle began again. After the two months, I still remember earning around P7,300 pesos. When our first child was born, guess how much the hospital bill was? P7,300 pesos.

The following story may help those of you who might question if you have the talents we speak of.
The famed naturalist of the last century, Louis Agassiz, was lecturing in London and had done a marvelous job. An obviously bright little old lady, but one who did not seem to have all the advantages in life, came up and was spiteful. She was resentful and said that she had never had the chances that he had had and she hoped he appreciated it. He took that bit of a lacing very pleasantly and turned to the lady and, when she was through, said, “What do you do?”

She said, “I run a boarding house with my sister. I’m unmarried.”

“What do you do at the boarding house?”

“Well, I skin potatoes and chop onions for the stew. We have stew every day.”

“Where do you sit when you do that interesting but homely task?”

“I sit on the bottom step of the kitchen stairs.”

“Where do your feet rest when you sit there on the bottom step?”

“On a glazed brick.”

“What’s a glazed brick?”

“I don’t know.”

“How long have you been sitting there?”

“Fifteen years.”

Agassiz concluded, “Here’s my card. Would you write me a note when you get a moment about what a glazed brick is?”

Well, that made her mad enough to go home and do it. She went home and got the dictionary out and found out that a brick was a piece of baked clay. That didn’t seem enough to send to a Harvard professor, so she went to the encyclopedia and found out that a brick was made of vitrified kaolin and hydrous aluminum silicate, which didn’t mean a thing to her. She went to work and visited a brick factory and a tile maker. Then she went back in history and studied a little bit about geology and learned something about clay and clay beds and what hydrous meant and what vitrified meant. She began to soar out of the basement of a boarding house on the wings of words like vitrified kaoline and hydrous aluminum silicate. She finally decided that there were about 120 different kinds of glazed bricks and tiles. She could tell Agassiz that, so she wrote him a little note of thirty-six pages and said, “Here’s your glazed brick.”

He wrote back, “This is a fine piece of work. If you change this and that and the other, I’ll prepare it for publication and send you that which is due you from the publication.” She thought no more of it, made the changes, sent it back, and almost by return mail came a check for 250 dollars. His letter said, “I’ve published your piece. What was under the brick?”

And she said, “Ants.”

He replied (all of this by mail), “What’s an ant?”

She went to work and this time she was excited. She found 1,825 different kinds of ants. She found that there were ants that you could put three to the head of a pin and still have standing room left over. She found that there were ants an inch long that moved in armies half a mile wide and destroyed everything in their path. She found that some ants were blind; some ants lost their wings on the afternoon they died; some milked cows and took the milk to the aristocrats up the street. She found more ants than anybody had ever found, so she wrote Mr. Agassiz something of a treatise, numbering 360 pages. He published it and sent her the money and royalties, which continued to come in. She saw the lands and places of her dreams on a little carpet of vitrified kaolin and on the wings of flying ants that may lose their wings on the afternoon they die. [Jeffrey R. Holland, “Borne upon Eagles’ Wings,” in Speeches of the Year, 1974 (Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 1975), pp. 402–3; see also Marion D. Hanks, The Gift of Self (Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1974), pp. 151–53]

When my sister was single and struggling with dating, she realized she might be making this mistake. So she drew a simple picture of her desired partner:
A stick figure with three—only three—of the most important attributes she wanted in a husband. No height requirements, no six-figure salary quota.
Within several months she started dating her future spouse. He was dedicated to the gospel, hardworking, and honest. Together they are working to create an eternal marriage.

Chandradas “Roshan” and Sheron Antony of Colombo, Sri Lanka, decided to be sealed in the temple. Their friends Ann and Anton Kumarasamy were so excited for them. But they knew that getting to the Manila Philippines Temple wasn’t easy or cheap.
Roshan and Sheron had saved their money and booked flights months in advance to get a flight they could afford. Finally, the day came. However, during their layover in Malaysia, they discovered that to continue on to the Philippines, they either needed a visa or needed to fly on a different airline. It wasn’t possible to get a visa, and they couldn’t afford to buy tickets on another airline. But they couldn’t bear the thought of returning home without being sealed.
Unsure what else to do, Roshan called Anton. Anton and Ann desperately wanted to help. They were one of the few couples in Sri Lanka who had been sealed in the temple, and they knew what a blessing it was. But they had recently used their savings to help a family member in need, and they didn’t have enough money to help Roshan and Sheron buy tickets for a new flight.
In Sri Lanka it is customary for the groom to buy the bride a gold necklace so that she will have some money if her husband dies. Ann decided to sell her necklace to help buy the new tickets. Her generous gift made it possible for Roshan and Sheron to make their temple appointment in Manila.
“I know the value of a temple sealing,” Ann said. “I knew Sheron and Roshan would be a great strength to the branch. I didn’t want them to miss this opportunity.”3

Mom! Dad! On Saturday can we …
… go to the rocks and minerals show?
… go to the horse show?
I really want to find a cool new rock for my collection.
I could take my sketchpad to draw the horses.
Remember, we decided we’d spend this Saturday together. But after our chores, we’ll only have time for one activity.
Why don’t you two work out a solution?
We could flip a coin, but if I lose, I’m gonna be really bored at the horse show.
Yeah, I feel the same about the rock show. … Hey! Let’s find something we both like to do!
I don’t think Mom would let us eat cupcakes all afternoon.
I’ve got an idea! That movie we’ve been wanting to see is at the dollar theater now.
Brilliant!

One simple yet profound experience with the Prophet and his family made a deep impact on young Benjamin Johnson. One Sunday morning he was sitting with Joseph in private conversation when two of Joseph and Emma’s children came into the room—“all so nice, bright and sweet, and calling to them my attention, [Joseph] said, ‘Benjamin, look at these children, how could I help loving their mother.’”
“To me,” Brother Johnson wrote, Emma “appeared the queen of his heart and of his home” (Johnson Letter, page 4).

In the 1970s, when newly proposed federal regulations appeared to prohibit religious schools like BYU from having separate on-campus housing for men and women, President Oaks was given the chance to testify before Congress on the matter. He began not by condemning or attacking the proposal but by first expressing support for the new law’s “overall nondiscrimination objectives.” Only then, after this truthful and conciliatory statement, did President Oaks go on to make the case “that the proposed regulations went too far.”25

President Oaks’s wise and honest approach proved persuasive. Over time, BYU was “granted an exemption from those requirements.”26

One such experience occurred when my older brother, Adrian, needed surgery. Medical facilities here are limited, and it was necessary for him to leave his wife and children to fly to the mainland. He resisted the trip, fearing a problem with the small plane he would be taking. But in the end, he had to go. Boarding with him were the pilot and two television reporters.
As I heard the plane fly overhead, I sent my thoughts with my brother: Have no fear, Adrian. Heavenly Father will watch over you. Yet I felt prompted to go to my room and pray for his protection.
I was still on my knees when my husband came in. “I don’t know how to tell you this,” he began.
“Tell me what?”
“Adrian’s plane has crashed into the sea. We don’t know yet if there are any survivors.”
Thankfully, all four men lived. They were rescued by some people in a fishing boat and were soon back safe on the island. The entire population was waiting for them when they returned to the dock. We applauded with relief and joy and shed many tears of gratitude.
The next day the two reporters came to my place of work and gave me their version of what had happened. When the plane began to go down, the pilot ordered them to break the windows and throw out anything they could. Suitcases, cameras, shoes—everything was sacrificed to help the plane stay afloat as long as possible after crashing. The pilot gave some final instructions, and they buckled their seat belts.
Then Adrian began to pray aloud. He told the Lord that all of them felt they had a lot of living left to do. They were heads of families. They all had small children. He pleaded for another chance.
When he finished the prayer, he began to sing one of our hymns, “The Lord is my light; then why should I fear? …” (Hymns, 1985, number 89). The reporters said that without knowing the hymn, they began to sing with him. The music and his prayer gave them hope that they might be saved.
Within a few seconds of impact, the plane sank. But those few seconds were enough. They got the door open and inflated a raft. After the fishing boat picked them up, someone spotted a suitcase floating. It was Adrian’s. Inside was the tithing from our branch, which he was to deliver to Church leaders on the mainland. Other than the four men, the suitcase was the only thing that was saved.
Although we live in one of the most remote places of the earth, we know our Father in Heaven is mindful of us. We have felt his almighty hand, and he has answered our prayers.

Several years ago, while preparing for a business trip, I began to experience chest pain. Out of concern, my wife decided to accompany me. On the first leg of our flight, the pain intensified to the point that it was difficult for me to breathe. When we landed, we left the airport and went to the local hospital, where, after multiple tests, the attending physician declared us safe to continue our travel.
We returned to the airport and boarded a flight to our final destination. As we were descending, the pilot came on the intercom and asked me to identify myself. The flight attendant approached, said they had just received an emergency call, and told me there was an ambulance waiting at the airport to take me to the hospital.
We boarded the ambulance and were rushed to the local emergency room. There we were met by two anxious doctors who explained that I had been misdiagnosed and actually had a serious pulmonary embolism, or blood clot, in my lung, which required immediate medical attention. The doctors informed us that many patients do not survive this condition. Knowing we were far from home and not sure if we were prepared for such life-altering events, the doctors said that if there was anything in our lives that we needed to consider, now was the time.
I remember well how almost instantaneously in that anxious moment, my entire perspective changed. What seemed so important just moments earlier was now of little interest. My mind raced away from the comfort and cares of this life to an eternal perspective—thoughts of family, children, my wife, and ultimately an assessment of my own life.
How were we doing as a family and individually? Were we living our lives consistent with the covenants we had made and the Lord’s expectations, or had we perhaps unintentionally allowed the cares of the world to distract us from those things which matter most?
I would invite you to consider an important lesson learned from this experience: to step back from the world and assess your life. Or in the words of the doctor, if there is anything in your life you need to consider, now is the time.

On the morning of the last day of school before the Christmas holidays, I had the strangest thought pop into my head. I was tying bows around bunches of gourmet candy canes to give to my friends when my mind said, “You should give one of these to Megan*.”
What a crazy idea! Megan, a very popular girl in my English class, was terribly mean. In addition to the rude things she said to me, she and her friends were always giggling and pointing in my direction. She made me feel horrible. Why should I give Christmas candy to someone like that?
Today was always the best day of the whole year at Valley Middle School. Like the last day of school in June, schoolwork would be pushed aside in favor of movies and games. But what made it even better than that was the candy we exchanged with our friends. As we went from class to class, our stacks of goodies grew and we found out who liked us enough to put us on their gift list. You could tell who the really popular kids were by their enormous piles of candy. Someone like Megan would have to bring an extra bag to carry everything. She certainly didn’t need anything from me.
I was confident I would have a respectable pile of sweets myself. I was nowhere near being part of the popular crowd, but it was a big school, and I had a large group of friends. However, because I was one of the few Latter-day Saints in the school, I really stood out. Anyone who stands out too much in middle school becomes a target for teasing, so, unfortunately, I had as many tormentors as I had friends.
It is sometimes really tough to know how to deal with people who pick on you. I had long ago decided that the best way was just to ignore them. But sometimes this just didn’t seem to work. Earlier that school year, two girls in my science class had hurt me so much with their cruel words that I finally burst and fired similar cruel words right back at them. This landed me in detention, and I spent a miserable afternoon picking up trash. Worse than the actual punishment was how horrible I felt inside. I knew my actions weren’t Christlike, and that hurt me more than anyone’s awful words ever could. After that, I stuck like glue to my old policy of keeping silent and expressionless, hoping people would get bored with me. But Megan still hadn’t given up trying to have fun at my expense, and I had been wondering recently if there were something more I could do besides just turning the other cheek.
Looking down at the candy canes in my backpack, I realized that the Spirit had just given me a solution to my dilemma. I thought of Matthew 5:44, in the Sermon on the Mount, where Christ says, “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you.”
“Well,” I thought, “it’s worth a try.” Even though the thought of doing such an unusual thing scared me, I told myself it couldn’t make the situation any worse.
I almost chickened out. It was the very end of the class period before I had the guts to approach Megan. When I called her name, she turned and looked very surprised that I was speaking to her.
“Here, this is for you.” I held out the candy.
She looked at me very suspiciously. I could tell she was trying to figure out what the trick was. I knew she thought I was trying to do something mean because she knew she’d never done anything nice to me. So I smiled and said, “Merry Christmas,” hoping she would trust me just a little bit.
She took the candy. When I turned to walk away, and it was clear that there were no strings attached, she said, “Thank you.”
I wish I could say Megan and I became friends after that. We didn’t. But she left me alone the rest of the school year, and her eyes lost that hard, malicious glint when she looked at me.
I like to hope I gave her more than just candy that Christmas. I hope that’s what happened, but maybe it didn’t. Maybe she never thought about it again. But I was changed for life after that simple exchange. I was filled with the joy of having done what Jesus would have done. The gift I gave her paled in comparison to the gift I received—a taste of charity, the pure love of Christ, a feeling sweeter than all the Christmas candy in the school.

The following example illustrates the importance of choosing to participate in activities and be in environments where the Spirit can be present. Not too long ago my teenage daughter had an opportunity to attend a routine Church fireside on a Sunday evening. I am sure that you will not be surprised when I tell you that this teenager was not excited about getting dressed up again to go to “yet another” Church meeting. However, with constant prodding from her mother and me, she decided to attend.

When she returned home I asked, “So how was the fireside?”

She replied, “It was so good. I am really glad that I went.”

She enjoyed the blessings of the Spirit because she placed herself in an environment where the Spirit could be present. Had she not attended the fireside she would have missed an opportunity to build her faith. Choosing to attend your church meetings, attend the temple regularly, read the scriptures, and even attend university devotionals makes it more likely for you to have spiritual experiences. After all, it is hard for the Spirit to bear witness to us of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon if we aren’t reading it.

When my parents told our family of the many people hurt and killed by the tsunami in Asia in December 2004, I felt sad for the children who didn’t have parents to help them anymore. Our family wanted to help the people hurt by the tsunami. We decided not to buy any groceries for one week and give our grocery money to the Church so it could be used to help. I wanted to give all the money that I had to the survivors. I opened my wallet and dumped all my money out. It was hard because I had been working and saving my money for a long time. My mom helped me count it, fill out the donation form, and put it in a tithing envelope. I felt good afterward because I knew that I had helped other people who had lost everything, and I knew that is what Jesus would do.