Gospel Story Finder

One day I invited Mike* to come to church and sit in my class. Mike was my age but had stopped attending church completely by the time he was 12. We had remained friends over the years as I had served as the deacons quorum president, the teachers quorum president, and first assistant to the bishop in the priests quorum. He had been the topic of many fellowshipping discussions and was often part of my prayers as the years had passed. Once in a while Mike would accept my invitations to come to an activity. It always surprised me when he did, so I kept inviting him.
At that time, Mike had long, black hair and a beard. His complexion was dark and pleasant. I don’t remember when I invited him to my Primary class, but one day he showed up.
“Class, I would like to introduce you to my friend Mike,” is how I began my lesson. “He is visiting us today.”
Mike sat next to me in front. The children sat in a semicircle with their eyes fixed on him. They were much quieter than usual. I was about five or six minutes into the lesson when one little boy got up from his chair and walked across the room and stood directly in front of my friend. The boy paused for a moment and then climbed onto his lap. I continued with the lesson as I watched the two of them from the corner of my eye.
The boy sat looking into Mike’s face. Mike was quite uncomfortable but did not interrupt the lesson or turn the boy away. The other children watched the two of them for a few minutes.
Then one of the girls climbed off her seat and approached Mike. I was intently interested in seeing how Mike would react and did not want to instruct the two children to return to their seats. The girl stood with her hand on Mike’s knee looking into his face.
Then it happened. The boy on Mike’s lap reached up with both hands and turned Mike’s face directly to his. I stopped my lesson to see what was about to unfold.
With the innocence of a child, he said to Mike, “Are you Jesus?”
The look on Mike’s face was total surprise. It seemed, as I glanced at the children’s faces, they all had the same question on their minds.
Mike looked at me as if to say, Help, what do I say?
I stepped in. “No, this is not Jesus. This is His brother.”
Mike looked at me as if in shock.
Then without hesitation the boy in Mike’s lap reached up and wrapped his arms around Mike’s neck. “I can tell,” the boy said as he hugged Mike.
The rest of the children smiled and nodded in agreement as their simple question was answered. Mike blinked back the tears in response to the love he felt from this small Sunbeam. The lesson went on, but that day the teacher who taught the most was a three-year-old child.
Mike spent more than a year getting ready to serve a mission. It thrilled me to learn that he left for the mission field a few months before I returned. I still think of the scripture in Matthew 18:5: “And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me.”

May I share today a story about a person who lived in such a way, in an eternal, loving companionship in Hawaii.

In 1850, Brigham Young sent ten missionaries to the Hawaiian Islands. Without understanding the language and culture, the missionaries found the work extremely difficult. Eventually they became discouraged, including the mission president. They became so discouraged that five of the ten left to go home. The youngest of the remaining missionaries, Elder George Q. Cannon, was determined to stay. He went to the Lord in prayer. The Lord inspired him to go to Lahaina on Maui. He did so.

As he approached this town, two ladies went screaming into a nearby house and brought out a local gentleman. The previous night, this man had had a dream that a messenger of God was coming to his town and that he must feed him. Elder Cannon was invited to stay and preach in the home of this man, Jonathon H. Napela, who was a very well-educated man and the magistrate of that district (see Alma 10:4).

Subsequently, Elder Cannon and Jonathon Napela became very close friends, like Alma and Amulek in the Book of Mormon (see Alma 10–15). Because of the guiding hand of God and Brother Napela’s great help, along with the hospitality and kindness of the Hawaiian Saints, the missionary work began to excel in Hawaii, and the foundation was laid.

Today it requires great courage to be a loyal Latter-day Saint. For many it is not easy, and it will likely not become easier. The tests of our day are severe. This is particularly so for you young men of the Aaronic Priesthood. Being true to the way of life the Lord has given us does not always make us public heroes. Having the courage of our convictions has its own rewards, however. Armin Suckow, Jr., a thirteen-year-old boy from Germany discovered this. He tells of an interesting experience in a letter he wrote to the New Era magazine. Armin says, “We spoke one Christmastime with one of our school teachers about Jesus. He said that after Jesus died, he had gone from the earth and was now dead. As the teacher spoke, I thought about our church and knew that after three days Jesus was resurrected and was seen by many people. Later, then, he ascended into heaven. I had the feeling that I should tell the teacher and the students that the truth was entirely different from what the teacher had just said. The teacher didn’t want to hear my opinion at all, but in spite of that, I … told them that Jesus was resurrected. It didn’t please the teacher at all that I should correct him, but I continued. Then he said that this was simply a matter of opinion. I answered him that anyone can read of this event in the scriptures and that it is so clearly described there that no one can get a different opinion on the story than the one that I had given. After the class the teacher wanted to know to which church I belonged. I told him that I belonged to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. On that day I had a real good feeling inside of me.” (“The Savior Lives!” New Era, Dec. 1977, p. 18.)

We have to admire Armin’s decision to speak out on what he believed. It was not easy for him, but his action was consistent with what he knew to be right.

A story from the National Baseball Hall of Fame may illustrate how a clearer vision gives us an edge in the fight for right. A generation ago, Ted Williams was a household name in America. The veteran slugger for the Boston Red Sox proved his talent, integrity, and commitment year after year. In 1941, after only three years in the majors, Ted was hitting an incredible .39955 entering the last day of the season. Few hitters have ever come near to batting .400 in a season. Ted’s manager, the legendary Joe Cronin, offered to bench him for the last day of the season so that his average would round up to .400, knowing that if he had a bad day he would miss the mark altogether.
Not a chance, Ted replied. If he couldn’t hit .400 all the way, he said he didn’t deserve it. So he played.
Williams got six hits in eight times at bat during a doubleheader on that last day and ended the season with a .406 batting average. That record still stands. During a career that spanned 22 years, interrupted by 5 years of service as a military pilot in two wars, Ted averaged .344 at bat and hit 521 home runs. Even in his last season, at the age of 42, Ted hit .316, an exceptional average for most baseball players.
Ted Williams’s secret was his keen eyesight. After the pitcher threw the ball, Ted could see the stitching on the ball and could tell by the direction the ball was spinning whether it was a curve, slider, knuckleball, or fastball.
Do not suppose that Ted Williams relied upon his exceptional vision alone. He was known as the hardest worker in the major leagues. He combined personal integrity and tireless preparation with his love of the game to become one of the greatest players ever.

“Did I ever tell you about the Missouri snake?” Grandpa asked.
“No,” said Emily. She sat down on the cool grass to listen.
“One day, my brother Lee and I were out playing by a rock pile, when we saw a snake, a great big one. Mom had told us to stay away from snakes because one might be poisonous, and we were scared. Lee and I started throwing rocks at it. We threw so many that we moved nearly the whole rock pile!” he said.
“Did you kill the snake?” Emily asked.
“I don’t know,” Grandpa Charles laughed. “We never did get brave enough to go and see.”

When Greg returned from his mission, he finished up at Ricks, then went on to BYU. He never had satisfied his dream of becoming a student body president, but the thought of presiding over BYU’s 27,000 students seemed overly ambitious to him. His sister Kristie was convinced he could do it though. She helped him find a running mate, served as his campaign manager, and after a lot of hard work, Greg was elected by one of the biggest margins in BYU history.

“That really helped prepare me for where I am now,” Greg says. And actually, he is quite surprised to be in this position at Harvard. He’d already satisfied his goal of serving as a student body president, and knowing how many hours he’d put into the position at BYU, he didn’t think he could handle it at graduate school. After much prayer and a lot of requests from fellow students, however, Greg decided to give it a try. A lot of hard work went into that election too, and it paid off.

Even though Greg has won a multitude of other awards and titles, he feels that some of his greatest satisfaction comes when his accomplishments put him in a position to answer questions about the Church. “I’m constantly being questioned about our beliefs,” he says with a smile. “And I’m always happy to talk with anyone.”

And they’re usually happy to listen. Fellow students scrutinize Greg a little closer than they do other classmates. Not only is he their president, but he’s also one of a handful of LDS people they might know.

Tomorrow he’ll probably be walking Wall Street, but today, on the brisk Monday afternoon, his class discussions are finished and he walks over to one of the numerous meetings he has each week. Many students call out to him, greeting him by name. Some glance at him with a mischievous look in their eyes and call out, “Hi, LARRY!” That’s Greg’s first name, but he hates to be called that and they know it. On the first day of class this year, the student body gave him a standing ovation and shouted out, “Larry! Larry! Larry!” It’s impossible to take yourself too seriously with classmates like that.

Still, many of them ask him how he’s accomplished what he has. “My theory of success,” he tells them, “requires two things—that you work hard, and that you pray hard.” Greg slides into his seat at the head of a large conference table, and the other student body officers begin to file in. He is prepared. He should be. He was up until 2 A.M. making use of his theory of success.

I recently had the opportunity to minister to a widowed sister named Franca Calamassi, who is suffering from a debilitating illness. Sister Calamassi was the first member of her family to join the restored Church of Jesus Christ. Although her husband was never baptized, he consented to meet with the missionaries and often attended Church meetings. Despite these circumstances, Sister Calamassi remained faithful and raised her four children in the gospel of Jesus Christ. A year following her husband’s passing, Sister Calamassi took her children to the temple, and they participated in sacred ordinances and were sealed together as a family. The promises associated with these ordinances brought her much hope, joy, and happiness that helped her carry on in life.

When the first symptoms of the disease began to appear, her bishop gave her a blessing. At that time she told her bishop that she was ready to accept the Lord’s will, expressing her faith to be healed as well as her faith to endure her illness to the end.

During my visit, while holding Sister Calamassi’s hand and looking into her eyes, I saw an angelic glow emanating from her countenance—reflecting her confidence in God’s plan and her perfect brightness of hope in the Father’s love and plan for her.25 I felt her firm determination to endure in her faith until the end by taking up her cross, despite the challenges she was facing. This sister’s life is a testimony of Christ, a statement of her faith and devotion to Him.

This brother radiated enthusiasm in telling an unforgettable experience, and he effectively transmitted this feeling to his audience. His story dealt with the reaction of two fathers having a picnic with their children near a swift-flowing river. One father screamed excitedly as his little boy walked close to the river’s edge. The child was spanked and dragged away from the water. The second father kept careful watch on his son’s activities and then, kneeling beside him, he demonstrated the danger of the rushing water. Together, father and son threw sticks into the river and watched them be swept away by the current. The child’s curiosity was satisfied and he contentedly followed his father back to safer ground.
The high councilor asked us which of the two children received a lasting lesson from a parent who acted wisely.
We learned a lesson from this personal story, and we also learned a lesson from the manner in which the story was presented.

When I was six years old, my family moved to California for my dad’s new job. I had not made any new friends in my new city. After a few weeks, my family went out and delivered some of my dad’s special homemade bread to our new neighbors. It made me feel good inside. I knew that special feeling was the Holy Ghost. It made me feel like the Holy Ghost was saying, “Hailey, you were very brave to move to California, and you will make friends!”
Hailey B., age 7, California, USA

Only six months ago you faithful members of the Church of Jesus Christ sustained me as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. This calling came as a great surprise to many, but especially to our grandchildren, who said, “But he is our Opa! He is just a regular person. He played with us, and he used to cut our hair!”
After the October general conference, my wife and I talked to our children on the telephone, and one of our grandsons said, “Since we were so far away from you and could not be with you in Salt Lake City, at least you should have waved to us when you were giving your conference talk.” We have not yet been with our children and grandchildren until this general conference, and so I wave today, hoping to make a grandson happy. I also wave to all of you wonderful members, whose prayers and love are so important and appreciated by my wife and me.
In my growing-up years in Germany, I attended church in many different locations and circumstances—in humble back rooms, in impressive villas, and in very functional, modern chapels. All of these buildings had one important factor in common: the Spirit of God was present; the love of the Savior could be felt as we assembled as a branch or ward family.
The Zwickau chapel had an old air-driven organ. Every Sunday a young man was assigned to push up and down the sturdy lever that operated the bellows to make the organ work. Even before I was an Aaronic Priesthood bearer, I sometimes had the great privilege to assist in this important task.
While the congregation sang our beloved hymns of the Restoration, I pumped with all my strength so the organ would not run out of wind. The eyes of the organist unmistakably indicated whether I was doing fine or needed to increase my efforts quickly. I always felt honored by the importance of this duty and the trust that the organist had placed in me. It was a wonderful feeling of accomplishment to have a responsibility and to be part of this great work.
There was an additional benefit that came from this assignment: the bellows operator sat in a seat that offered a great view of a stained-glass window that beautified the front part of the chapel. The stained glass portrayed the First Vision, with Joseph Smith kneeling in the Sacred Grove, looking up toward heaven and into a pillar of light.
During the hymns of the congregation and even during talks and testimonies given by our members, I often looked at this depiction of a most sacred moment in world history. In my mind’s eye I saw Joseph receiving knowledge, witness, and divine instructions as he became a blessed instrument in the hand of our Heavenly Father.
I felt a special spirit while looking at the beautiful scene in this window picture of a believing young boy in a sacred grove who made a courageous decision to earnestly pray to our Heavenly Father, who listened and responded lovingly to him.
Here I was, a young boy in post–World War II Germany, living in a city in ruins, thousands of miles away from Palmyra in North America and more than a hundred years after the event actually took place. By the universal power of the Holy Ghost, I felt in my heart and in my mind that it was true, that Joseph Smith saw God and Jesus Christ and heard Their voices. The Spirit of God comforted my soul at this young age with an assurance of the reality of this sacred moment that resulted in the beginning of a worldwide movement destined to “roll forth, until it has filled the whole earth” (D&C 65:2). I believed Joseph Smith’s testimony of that glorious experience in the Sacred Grove then, and I know it now. God has spoken to mankind again!
Looking back, I am grateful for so many friends who helped me in my youth to gain a testimony of the restored Church of Jesus Christ. First I exercised simple faith in their testimonies, and then I received the divine witness of the Spirit to my mind and to my heart. I count Joseph Smith among those whose testimony of Christ helped me to develop my own testimony of the Savior. Before I recognized the tutoring of the Spirit testifying to me that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, my youthful heart felt that he was a friend of God and would therefore, quite naturally, also be a friend of mine. I knew I could trust Joseph Smith.
The scriptures teach us that spiritual gifts are given to those who ask of God, who love Him, and who keep His commandments (see D&C 46:9). “All have not every gift given unto them; for there are many gifts, and to every man is given a gift by the Spirit of God.
“To some is given one, and to some is given another, that all may be profited thereby” (D&C 46:11–12).
Today I know that my young testimony benefited greatly from the testimony of the Prophet Joseph Smith and many friends in the Church who knew “by the Holy Ghost … that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and that he was crucified for the sins of the world” (D&C 46:13). Their good examples, caring love, and helping hands blessed me to receive another special gift of the Spirit described in the scriptures as I was yearning for more light and truth: “To others it is given to believe on their words, that they also might have eternal life if they continue [faithfully]” (D&C 46:14). What a wonderful and precious gift this is!
As we truly humble ourselves, we will be blessed with this gift to have faith and to hope for things which are not seen but are true (see Alma 32:21). As we experiment upon the words given to us by the scriptures and the living prophets—even if we only have a desire to believe—and do not resist the Spirit of the Lord, our souls will be enlarged and our understanding will be enlightened (see Alma 32:26–28).
The Savior Himself explained this merciful principle clearly to all the world in His great intercessory prayer, given not only for His Apostles but for all the Saints, even for us today, wherever we might be living. He said:
“Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on me through their word;
“That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that thou hast sent me” (John 17:20–21; emphasis added).
This is how Joseph Smith’s First Vision blesses our own personal lives, the lives of families, and eventually the whole human family: we come to believe in Jesus Christ through the testimony of the Prophet Joseph Smith. Prophets and apostles throughout the history of mankind have had divine manifestations similar to Joseph’s. Moses saw God face-to-face and learned that he was a son of God “in the similitude of [His] Only Begotten” (see Moses 1:1–6). The Apostle Paul testified that the resurrected Jesus Christ appeared to him on the road to Damascus and made Paul one of His great missionaries (see Acts 26:9–23). Hearing Paul’s witness of his heavenly vision during the trial at Caesarea, the powerful King Agrippa admitted, “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian” (Acts 26:28).
And there were many other ancient prophets who also bore powerful testimony of Christ. All of these manifestations, ancient and modern, lead those who believe to the divine source of all righteousness and hope—to God, our Heavenly Father, and to His Son, Jesus Christ.
God has spoken to Joseph Smith for the purpose of blessing all of God’s children with His mercy and love, even in times of uncertainties and insecurities, of wars and rumors of wars, of natural and personal disasters. The Savior said, “Behold, mine arm of mercy is extended towards you, and whosoever will come, him will I receive” (3 Nephi 9:14). And all who accept this invitation will be “encircled about with the matchless bounty of his love” (Alma 26:15).
Through our faith in the personal witness of the Prophet Joseph and the reality of the First Vision, through study and prayer, deep and sincere, we will be blessed with a firm faith in the Savior of the world, who spoke to Joseph “on the morning of a beautiful, clear day, early in the spring of eighteen hundred and twenty” (Joseph Smith—History 1:14).
Faith in Jesus Christ and a testimony of Him and His universal Atonement is not just a doctrine with great theological value. Such faith is a universal gift, glorious for all cultural regions of this earth, irrespective of language, race, color, nationality, or socioeconomic circumstance. The powers of reason may be used to try to understand this gift, but those who feel its effects most deeply are those who are willing to accept its blessings, which come from a pure and clean life of following the path of true repentance and living the commandments of God.
As we remember and honor the Prophet Joseph Smith, my heart reaches out to him in gratitude. He was a good, honest, humble, intelligent, and courageous young man with a heart of gold and an unshaken faith in God. He had integrity. In response to his humble prayer, the heavens opened again. Joseph Smith had actually seen a vision. He knew it, and he knew that God knew it, and he could not deny it. (See Joseph Smith—History 1:25.)
Through his work and sacrifice, I now have a true understanding of our Heavenly Father and His Son, our Redeemer and Savior, Jesus Christ, and I can feel the power of the Holy Ghost and know of Heavenly Father’s plan for us, His children. For me, these are truly the fruits of the First Vision.
I am grateful that early in my life I was blessed with a simple faith that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, that he saw God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, in a vision. He translated the Book of Mormon by the gift and power of God. That testimony has been confirmed to me over and over again.
As one of the least among you, but in my calling as one of the Apostles of Jesus Christ, I testify that He truly lives, that He is the Messiah. I do have a personal witness of Jesus Christ, the Savior and Redeemer of all mankind. I received this knowledge by the unspeakable peace and power of the Spirit of God. The desire of my heart and of my mind is to be pure and faithful in serving Him now and forever.
I so testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

All summer long, before her family moved into their new house, Sadie had wondered about her new neighbors. She had imagined a girl her age who loved to climb trees. But soon after they moved in, Sadie learned that there was no little girl next door. Just the Ludwigs.
Early that fall a big snowstorm came. Sadie and her sister bundled up and went outside. After playing in the snow for a while, Sadie noticed that no one had walked in the snow in the Ludwigs’ yard. Wouldn’t it be nice to make a snow angel in that clean snow?
That afternoon, the phone rang. Mom came into Sadie’s room. “Sadie, did you play in the Ludwigs’ snow this morning?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Sadie, Mr. Ludwig is from a country where children must never play in someone else’s yard without permission. He is very angry at the mess you made.”
“I didn’t mean to be naughty,” Sadie said.
“I know you didn’t,” Mom said. “But we need to think about how other people might feel about the things we do.”
“The girls at school say that everyone hates the Ludwigs because they are so mean,” Sadie said. “They say that Mr. Ludwig yells at everyone.”
“Well, if that’s how people talk about them, it sounds as if the Ludwigs need some kindness,” Mom said. “And it seems to me that we could show them some.”
Mom and Sadie made cookies and took them next door. Sadie tried to be brave, but Mr. Ludwig was frowning.
“I’m sorry for making a mess of your snow,” Sadie said. “I won’t do it again.”
“Make sure you don’t,” Mr. Ludwig said. Then he slammed the door.
“At least he took the cookies,” Mom said.
As Christmas drew near, the girls got excited about their tradition of leaving a small treat or gift on someone’s doorstep the 12 days before Christmas.
“Have you girls thought of someone who might appreciate some kindness?” Dad asked. “Someone who might need some extra cheer?”
Sadie thought of the Ludwigs. Probably no one would give them anything because Mr. Ludwig was so mean.
“What about the Ludwigs?” Sadie asked slowly.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Dad said.
Every night the girls took turns ringing the doorbell and hiding while Mr. Ludwig opened the door and took the treat inside. He answered the door more quickly each night. Sometimes Sadie was sure she saw him peeking out between the curtains when she was sneaking up his sidewalk.
On Christmas Eve, the doorbell rang. Dad opened the door and there stood Mr. Ludwig holding a large box.
“I am so grateful for your Christmas treats,” he said. “My wife is sick and doesn’t get out of bed. But I have told her about you. She likes to sew, and she made some things for you. Have a good Christmas.” Mr. Ludwig set down the box and left.
The girls gathered around as Dad opened the box. It was filled with colorful packages. Mom unwrapped towels and napkins with lace around the edges. Then she pulled out a package for each of the girls. They opened them to find beautiful handmade dolls.
“I didn’t know Mrs. Ludwig was sick in bed,” Sadie said. “I didn’t know she was making dolls for us.”
“Neither did I,” Mom said. “But we knew they needed some kindness.”

At daybreak on a spring morning in 1854, eight-year-old Margaret McNeil Ballard stepped into the chilly sea to be baptized. Many years later, she wrote of her baptism, “As I came up out of the water, the day was just beginning to dawn and the light to creep over the eastern hills. It was a very beautiful sight, one that I shall never forget. At this time I was filled with a sweet heavenly spirit which has remained with me to this day” (Ensign, July 1989, page 16).

Editor’s note: What started out as a fun activity turned into a small test of faith for some high school friends. Afterward, they shared what they were thinking at the time, and how one small but significant choice helped them all. Here is the same story, told from three points of view.
Sam: I was eager to go to the comedy club. A couple of my friends that I trust had been there previously, and they said it was funny and that all of the jokes were clean. So we were all excited and looking forward to a night of fun.
When the show started, the comedian was funny. He told some good jokes, but after a span of about 15 minutes his humor took a heavy turn downward. His jokes turned dirty. I was feeling super uncomfortable.
Carrie: I had heard of this comedy place and was excited to go. As the show began, it was good, clean comedy. But soon after, the humor grew more crass and inappropriate. I wanted to get up and leave, but I struggled with the decision because I knew my date had spent quite a bit of money on the tickets. I started to feel more and more uneasy.
Jake: When crude humor started to take the main stage at the comedy club, I was uneasy. When the comic started to make sacrilegious comments about the Church, I felt uncomfortable and thought about leaving. But somehow silly ideas crept into my head—I had just spent money to get in, everyone would laugh at us or think we weren’t mature enough to handle the humor, and my date wasn’t LDS. What would she think if I stood up to leave?
All this left me sitting indecisively in my seat. Looking back now, I’m embarrassed that I let a couple of worldly rationalizations get in the way of my spiritual courage. Once the bad jokes started coming, I should have left immediately; it’s as simple as that.
Sam: I turned to Carrie, and asked, “Are you ready to go?” I said it more as a statement than a question. I knew I was with a wonderful girl, and I was pleased when, with a smile on her face, she said, “Yeah, let’s go.”
Carrie: Then, to my rescue, my date Sam turned and whispered, “Are you ready to go?” I was so relieved! It was the answer to my silent prayer! We got up and left the theater.
Sam: I took her to the exit and then went quietly to the seats where my friend Jake was sitting with his date. I leaned down and whispered, “We’ve had enough. We’ll be out in the parking lot.” We waited outside for the show to end.
Jake: This is where the importance of having good friends comes in. As I sat there doing nothing, amidst the jokes, a finger tapped my shoulder. I turned to see my best friend crouched down behind me and pointing to the door. “I can’t handle this guy any longer,” he said, “We’ll be waiting in the parking lot.”
Sam: In the parking lot we started talking a little bit about what had happened, but not 30 seconds had passed when I heard the door open. I looked back to see Jake with his date, and all of my friends with their dates, walking out into the parking lot. Not a whole lot was said about what had happened, but we all knew we had done the right thing.
Carrie: It wasn’t necessary to wait, however, because shortly after we left, the rest of the group filed out of the theater. I had the most incredible feeling in my heart at that moment. I was so grateful for the example my date had set, grateful for his great respect for me. He was a guardian of truth and virtue that night, and that was more important than getting his money’s worth out of an inappropriate show.
I will forever remember and be grateful for that night and the experience I had. Sam is a close friend. He was known throughout the high school student body as being a good guy. He was full of integrity and virtue, so it was no surprise to me that he did what he did that night.
Jake: At that moment my friend became my hero. He left. Then I, along with our other friends, followed. My date knew we had high standards and recognized that we felt uncomfortable with the jokes, so she went along with our decision. I predicted the comedian would make fun of us for leaving, and he did. “But who really cares?” I said to myself as we left the room.
I’m grateful for the example my friend set by leaving that night. He had the courage to act, and I don’t know if I would have done the same thing had he not been there. Once he did the right thing, many others followed. Never underestimate the importance of friendship. Live your life so that you can be a role model to others, as Sam was to me.

Brothers and sisters, I believe in angels, and I would like to share with you my experiences with them. In doing so, I hope and pray that we will recognize the importance of angels in our lives.
Here are Elder Jeffrey R. Holland’s words from a past general conference: “When we speak of those who are instruments in the hand of God, we are reminded that not all angels are from the other side of the veil. Some of them we walk with and talk with—here, now, every day. Some of them reside in our own neighborhoods. … Indeed heaven never seems closer than when we see the love of God manifested in the kindness and devotion of people so good and so pure that angelic is the only word that comes to mind” (“The Ministry of Angels,” Ensign or Liahona, Nov. 2008, 30).
It is about angels on this side of the veil that I want to talk. The angels that walk among us in our everyday lives are powerful reminders of God’s love for us.
The first angels that I will mention are the two sister missionaries who taught me the gospel when I was a young man: Sister Vilma Molina and Sister Ivonete Rivitti. My younger sister and I were invited to a Church activity where we met these two angels. I never imagined how much that simple activity would change my life.
My parents and siblings were not interested in learning more about the Church at that time. They were not even willing to have the missionaries in our home, so I took the missionary lessons in a Church building. That small room in the chapel became my “sacred grove.”
One month after these angels introduced me to the gospel, I was baptized. I was 16 years old. Unfortunately, I don’t have a picture of that sacred event, but I do have a picture of my sister and me at the time we participated in that activity. I may need to clarify who is who in this picture. I am the taller one on the right.
As you can imagine, remaining active in the Church was challenging for a teenager whose lifestyle had just changed and whose family was not taking the same path.
As I was trying to adjust to my new life, a new culture, and new friends, I felt out of place. I felt alone and discouraged many times. I knew the Church was true, but I had a hard time feeling part of it. While uncomfortable and uncertain as I tried to fit into my new religion, I found the courage to participate in a three-day youth conference, which I thought would help me make new friends. This is when I met another saving angel, named Mônica Brandão.
She was new in the area, having moved from another part of Brazil. She quickly got my attention and, luckily for me, accepted me as a friend. I guess she looked at me more from the inside than the outside.
Because she befriended me, I was introduced to her friends, who then became my friends as we enjoyed many youth activities I attended later. Those activities were so critical to my integration into this new life.
These good friends made a big difference, but not having the gospel taught in my home with a supportive family still put my ongoing conversion process at risk. My gospel interactions in the Church became even more crucial to my growing conversion. Then two additional angels were sent by the Lord to help.
One of them was Leda Vettori, my early-morning seminary teacher. Through her accepting love and inspiring classes, she gave me a daily dose of the “good word of God” (Moroni 6:4), which was so needed throughout my day. This helped me to gain the spiritual strength to keep going.
Another angel sent to help me was the Young Men president, Marco Antônio Fusco. He was also assigned to be my senior home teaching companion. Despite my lack of experience and different appearance, he gave me assignments to teach in our priests quorum meetings and home teaching visits. He gave me the chance to act and to learn and not just be an observer of the gospel. He trusted me, more than I trusted myself.
Thanks to all these angels, and many others I encountered during those important early years, I received enough strength to remain on the covenant path as I gained a spiritual witness of the truth.
And by the way, that young angel girl, Mônica? After we both served missions, she became my wife.
I don’t think it was a coincidence that good friends, Church responsibilities, and nurturing by the good word of God were part of that process. President Gordon B. Hinckley wisely taught: “It is not an easy thing to make the transition incident to joining this Church. It means cutting old ties. It means leaving friends. It may mean setting aside cherished beliefs. It may require a change of habits and a suppression of appetites. In so many cases it means loneliness and even fear of the unknown. There must be nurturing and strengthening during this difficult season of a convert’s life” (“There Must Be Messengers,” Ensign, Oct. 1987, 5).
Later he also taught, “Every one of them needs three things: a friend, a responsibility, and nurturing with ‘the good word of God’” (“Converts and Young Men,” Ensign, May 1997, 47).
Why am I sharing these experiences with you?
First, it is to send a message to those going through a similar process right now. Maybe you are a new convert, or coming back to the Church after wandering around for a while, or just someone struggling to fit in. Please, please, do not give up on your efforts to be part of this big family. It is the true Church of Jesus Christ!
When it comes to your happiness and salvation, it is always worth the effort to keep trying. It is worth the effort to adjust your lifestyle and traditions. The Lord is aware of the challenges you face. He knows you, He loves you, and I promise, He will send angels to help you.
In His own words the Savior said: “I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your [heart], and mine angels round about you, to bear you up” (Doctrine and Covenants 84:88).
My second purpose for sharing these experiences is to send a message to all members of the Church—to all of us. We should remember that it is not easy for new converts, returning friends, and those with a different lifestyle to instantly fit in. The Lord is aware of the challenges they face, and He is looking for angels willing to help. The Lord is always looking for willing volunteers to be angels in others’ lives.
Brothers and sisters, would you be willing to be an instrument in the Lord’s hands? Would you be willing to be one of these angels? To be an emissary, sent from God, from this side of the veil, for someone He is worried about? He needs you. They need you.
Of course, we can always count on our missionaries. They are always there, the first ones to enlist for this angelic job. But they are not enough.
If you look around carefully, you will find many in need of an angel’s help. These people may not be wearing white shirts, dresses, or any standard Sunday attire. They may be sitting alone, toward the back of the chapel or classroom, sometimes feeling as if they are invisible. Maybe their hairstyle is a little extreme or their vocabulary is different, but they are there, and they are trying.
Some may be wondering, “Should I keep coming back? Should I keep trying?” Others may be wondering if one day they will feel accepted and loved. Angels are needed, right now; angels who are willing to leave their comfort zone to embrace them; “[people who are] so good and so pure that angelic is the only word that comes to mind [to describe them]” (Jeffrey R. Holland, “The Ministry of Angels,” 30).
Brothers and sisters, I believe in angels! We are all here today, a giant army of angels set apart for these latter days, to minister to others as extensions of the hands of a loving Creator. I promise that if we are willing to serve, the Lord will give us opportunities to be ministering angels. He knows who needs angelic help, and He will put them in our path. The Lord puts those who need angelic help in our path daily.
I am so grateful for the many angels that the Lord has put in my path throughout my life. They were needed. I am also grateful for His gospel that helps us to change and gives us the chance to be better.
This is a gospel of love, a gospel of ministering. Of this I testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

“The last year that he lived, he took me into the living room and showed me a picture that had appeared in the Church News. The picture showed him and Grandma and their eleven children with their spouses in front of the Salt Lake Temple. They had all gone through a temple session together for my grandparent’s fiftieth wedding anniversary. Before the session had begun, a temple worker had introduced my grandfather to the rest of the people who were there. This had been the happiest day of Grandpa’s life. Seeing how happy it made him to have everyone together in the temple helped me to see how important temple work is.

Many years ago during the dark days of World War II, Elvon W. Orme, the president of the Australia Mission was invited to a faithful widow’s house for Sunday dinner. Rationing had taken its toll, and many of the good foods had long since disappeared from the shelves of the local stores.
When the president arrived, he was shocked to find a table filled with foods that were in short supply and had not been seen for months.
“I can’t eat this,” he said, almost embarrassed that he was taking it out of the mouth of a widow.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to,” she said. “You see, I listened to the Brethren years ago and put in my year’s supply, and this is the only kind of food I have.”
She showed the faith to act “as if” by storing food, and the faith produced a miracle in the time of need.

Thwap, screeee!
Christine froze in her bed. Her heart beat so hard she could feel it squeezing in her chest. What was that noise?
Very slowly, she turned to look at the window. The blinds were closed, so she couldn’t see what was making the sound.
She kept hearing the scraping noise, and she kept imagining scarier and scarier things.
Her heart beat even faster.
She could just go into Mom and Dad’s room again. She knew they wouldn’t mind. But she was always so embarrassed the next day when she did that. I’m too old to be scared at night.
But she was scared. It could be anything, she thought. It wasn’t very loud, but she kept hearing it.
She closed her eyes and said what seemed like her hundredth prayer for the night. Heavenly Father, I can’t go to sleep. I’m too scared. But I don’t want to go to Mom and Dad’s room. I want to be brave. Please help me not be afraid.
She finished her prayer and took a deep, slow breath. It’s OK, she thought. I can do this.
Thwap, screeee!
Yeah, she was pretty sure it was something trying to get through her window. She was so scared she didn’t dare move a muscle. She didn’t know what to do.
I could ask David, she thought. That isn’t as embarrassing as sleeping in Mom and Dad’s room.
Carefully she peeled off the covers and jumped off the bed, landing as far as possible from the window. Without looking back, she tiptoed quickly to her brother’s room.
“David,” she whispered, shaking his shoulder.
“Gmmmblll.” David slowly turned over and opened one eye. “Hmmm. What?”
“Uh, there’s a noise outside my window. Will you check what it is?” she asked.
“Sure.” David got up and shuffled to her room.
When they reached the window, he pulled up the blinds and looked outside. It was too dark to see.
“I don’t hear anything,” he said.
“Just wait a minute,” Christine said.
Sure enough, there it was again. Thwap, screeee!
David opened the window and reached out. Snap! He pulled a small branch back in.
“It’s just the tree outside. This was scraping against your window,” he said, handing her the branch.
I was scared of a stick? She felt really silly. “Thanks for looking,” she said. “Sorry I woke you up.”
David smiled. “You can always ask me for help.”
“Thanks.”
“I can stay for a little while if you want,” he said.
Christine nodded. She jumped into bed and pulled her feet away from the edges. David sat on the end of her bed and scooted back to the wall.
“I wish I could be braver at night,” Christine said.
“You know what’s brave?” said David. “Asking for help.”
“No it’s not,” she said. “I was scared.”
David laughed. “Everyone gets scared—even me! But being scared doesn’t mean you aren’t brave. It takes courage to ask for help when you’re afraid.”
Christine smiled. It was still dark, but she didn’t feel as anxious anymore.
“I’m OK now. You can go back to sleep,” she said.
David gave her a hug and walked out. He stopped in her doorway. “Night. Sleep well,” he said.
“Night, David,” she said back.
Christine closed her eyes. There were no more scary sounds. Heavenly Father, she prayed silently, Thank Thee that David could help me. I’m glad I was brave enough to ask.

Harold B. Lee learned to recognize the Spirit at an early age. One day he started toward some rundown sheds, but a voice called his name and told him not to go there. Harold obeyed. He continued to follow the Spirit throughout his life, like when he was called to lead the Church Welfare Program. He also led the Church department that developed learning materials to help members recognize the Spirit in their own lives.

My son, Nicholas, wanted to make a collection can and collect money so that he could buy teddy bears for children whose houses burned down. My husband and I decided to support his desires to “do good works like Jesus.”
We live in a rural community just outside of Idaho Falls, Idaho, so I called the fire chief there. He said that they love to be able to give teddy bears to children who have been in accidents or whose homes have burned down. But, he said, they could only accept new teddy bears, not used ones.
We typed up a letter explaining what Nicholas wanted to do, then began delivering it to neighbors and to businesses. We collected more than $150 and will be donating about fifty new teddy bears!

A friend of mine once told me about his experience in coming to know and understand the gift of the Holy Ghost. He had prayed often and longed to know the truth of the gospel.
Although he felt at peace with his beliefs, he had never received the certain knowledge for which he hungered. He had reconciled himself to the fact that he might be one of those who would have to walk through this life relying upon the faith of others.
One morning, while pondering the scriptures, he felt something surge through his body from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. “I was immersed in a feeling of such intense love and pure joy,” he explained. “I cannot describe the measure of what I felt at that time other than to say I was enveloped in joy so profound there was no room in me for any other sensation.”
Even as he felt this outpouring of the Holy Ghost, he wondered if possibly he was just imagining what was happening. “The more I wondered,” he said, “the more intense the feelings became until it was all I could do to tearfully say, ‘It is enough.’”