Gospel Story Finder

One Sunday Adrianne sat listening to Sister Newby in sacrament meeting. Sister Newby was Adrianne’s Merrie Miss teacher, and one of Adrianne’s favorite people.
“Remember what our prophet, President Benson, told us at conference,” Sister Newby said. “‘The great test of life is obedience to God. … The great task of life is to learn the will of the Lord and then do it. The great commandment of life is to love the Lord.’”*
Normally Adrianne liked to hear everything that Sister Newby had to say—but not today. Something was bothering Adrianne, and the words of President Benson made her feel more uneasy.
As soon as sacrament meeting was over, Adrianne went right up to Sister Newby. “You gave a nice talk,” she said.
“Thank you, Adrianne. I hope that it meant something to you.”
“Did President Benson really say the great task in life is to learn the will of the Lord and then do it?”
“Yes, he did,” said Sister Newby. “He said it in April conference a few years ago.”
“How do we know what the will of the Lord is?”
“Sometimes we know because the prophets have told us. And sometimes we know because we keep having a feeling about something. We feel like there is something we should do, and the feeling won’t go away.”
“That’s what’s happening to me,” said Adrianne. “I keep having a feeling that I should do something nice for a new girl named Rita in my class at school. I keep thinking I should make my favorite pumpkin cookies** and give them to her.”
“Why don’t you do it?” asked Sister Newby. “That would be an easy task—a fun one too.”
“I’m scared,” Adrianne admitted. “I don’t really know Rita, and I’ve never seen her parents. Maybe they’ll think I’m a little weird.”
“Is that what you thought when I brought you those brownies when your family moved here?” asked Sister Newby.
Adrianne was embarrassed as she remembered the delicious brownies Sister Newby had brought them last spring. “No, but you did it because you were going to be my teacher.”
Sister Newby laughed. “I did it because at the time I had a feeling that it would be a nice thing to do.”
“I see what you mean,” said Adrianne. “Well—I think Heavenly Father wants me to take cookies over to Rita’s house, so I’m going to do it!”
When Adrianne got home from school on Monday, she started making pumpkin cookies right away. After they were baked and cooled, she frosted them with creamy white frosting. The longer she worked on the cookies, the more she had doubts about delivering them to Rita.
“I don’t think I’ll take these to Rita,” Adrianne said to her mom as she finished frosting them. “What if Rita won’t even open the door. I’ll stand there looking really silly.”
Adrianne’s mom had agreed with Sister Newby when Adrianne explained the feeling she had been having. Mom now offered to drive Adrianne to Rita’s house, adding, “But you do what you think is best.”
“I’m not sure what I want to do. I keep thinking of what President Benson said. ‘The great test of life is obedience to God. … The great task of life is to learn the will of the Lord and then do it. The great commandment of life is to love the Lord.’”
Adrianne looked at the pumpkin cookies. “Well, I do love the Lord, and I keep thinking He wants me to take these cookies to Rita. So I guess I’ll just do it if you’ll please drive me there and wait in the car.”
“Sure,” said Mom. “I’ll be glad to.”
Adrianne put the cookies on a paper plate and covered them with plastic wrap. They looked wonderful. Encouraged, she went into her bedroom and said a prayer. That gave her even more courage. Then she and Mom drove to Rita’s house.
“Wish me luck,” said Adrianne as she left the car and started up the walk to the front porch. It seemed like a long walk to Adrianne, and it took forever for the door to open after she rang the doorbell.
Later, when Adrianne left Rita’s house, she ran back to the car. “I can’t believe I was in there all that time,” she said when she looked at the clock in the car. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
“That’s OK,” said Mom. “When you’ve been a mom as long as I have, you come prepared.” She held up a book she was reading. “How did it go?”
“It was wonderful! Rita was so surprised that she didn’t know what to say. We just stood there looking at each other at first. Then she invited me in, and we started talking and talking. And you’ll never guess what she said.”
“I give up. What did she say?”
“While we were talking, she found out I’m a Latter-day Saint. One of her best friends where she used to live was a Church member too. She asked me if she could go to church with me!”
“I think you were right, Adrianne. Heavenly Father did want you to go over and get to know Rita.”
“Yes, and I’m happy I did. I can’t wait for Sunday to come. You know, I have a feeling that Sister Newby won’t be a bit surprised when I bring Rita to Merrie Miss class.”

The young boy learned that through the love of the Lord Jesus Christ, it is possible to find peace even in a world filled with turmoil and wickedness. By 1912 the colonists found themselves in the middle of a revolution. Young Marion was worried about the troops pursuing each other through the countryside, taking supplies from the colonists—and he was terrified when shooting began just sixteen kilometers from his home.
But his terror was lessened as he listened to his mother sing hymns of faith and testimony as lullabies to her children. “The words of the songs she sang comforted me. Some of them have been ringing in my mind through all the years of the intervening two-thirds of a century.” (Ensign, July 1981, pp. 3–4.)

On one occasion some men were constructing a watering gate in a canal on grandfather’s farm. He noticed that they were placing the gate in the wrong location. He tried to persuade them to put the gate in a location that they had originally agreed upon. The foreman became angry. He said, “Johansen, that will be enough from you. We’re going to do just as we please.” Grandfather replied, “And so will all robbers.” Then he began to sing the words of a Danish song that begins, “Be careful what you say.” These words were a reminder to him to remain forgiving. The men continued to build the watering gate, but the gate did grandfather very little good. He never mentioned the wrong that these men had done to him, but he often recorded how he had to pray for rain because he could get so little water from the canal. He also records that the rain came.

When members of the Loganholme Ward of the Beenleigh Stake were looking for a new way to love, share and invite, they took on a tech savvy project to help family history enthusiasts all over the world.
To get the ward members excited about the project, the Loganholme Ward leaders set a goal, to index 10,000 names from April to December 2022. Excitement spread like wildfire and by mid-August, the goal was reached and extended to 20,000.
This particular service project was chosen for a number of reasons, but mainly because it is accessible for a range of ages and skill levels. Early in in the challenge, the ward gathered and learned together how to access records and correctly assess and record the information. Due to the accessibility of this project and the training that was available, many individuals have joined the cause, from children, teens and adults.
According to one participant, “To see the range of ages come together in a common goal is an incredibly unifying experience.”
Through indexing, not only have people been able to link the generations of their family together, but they have also created a greater bond with their living family.
Every Thursday evening, ward members can gather at the chapel and work together, sharing knowledge and stories. Each participant can share their knowledge and wisdom with each other. Young children have been spotted helping older participants with technology as older participants share stories of days gone by and how the world has changed. Everyone can share their knowledge and ask questions if they need assistance, and the group celebrates individual successes together.
“Everyone involved has had such an amazing experience working on these records,” one observer said.
“Many are now finding the search for their ancestors addictive, spending their Sabbath researching for new clues and preparing family names for the temple.”
One of the local Church leaders commented, “What’s great about indexing is that anyone and everyone can participate regardless of your age or experience. Testimonies were strengthened, and an increased interest in temple and family history work was established.”

Of course, there were political and social conflicts in the lives of some of our ancestors, but even these become instructional in the ways they dealt with their circumstances. John Davies was a loyalist during the American Revolutionary War. He had been instrumental in the establishment of the Church of England in America, which became known as the First Episcopal Society of Litchfield. These early immigrants had been taught that next to religion, loyalty was the cardinal virtue. They honestly considered that none but the infidel and traitor would venture to speak of revolution from the Mother Land. Some argued that any attempt to independence was rank ingratitude. They considered the king to be the head not only of their state but also of their religion.

John Davies recounts the challenge of building their first church in Litchfield, Connecticut, only to have it seriously damaged by soldiers of the Revolution. His cattle were run off by revolutionists and much of his property severely damaged because of significant persecution of those who had remained loyal to the king. Listen to this about John Davies:
“After the close of the war a man who had taken an active part in driving off a number of cattle from his farm, and had committed other acts of plunder, having become destitute, applied for relief in his extremity to Mr. Davies, who not only pardoned him for the wrongs he had done, but liberally relieved his wants” (in Henry Eugene Davies, Davies Memoirs, 1895, pp. 21–22).

It was Christmas morning and my six-year-old little brother, Andrew, was the first one to sneak out of bed. When I woke up and went looking for him a little while later, I couldn’t believe what I found. There he was, under the tree, having just opened all of my presents!
Mom and Dad were still asleep in bed. So was my baby sister. Right then, it was just Andrew, me, and my opened Christmas gifts. As I watched him play with a model airplane that I now wouldn’t get to open, I became angry. My Christmas was ruined!
As my anger grew, I decided that I really needed to stop and pray for help to not be mad. So I did. Almost immediately, I felt a little calmer. Then I looked at Andrew more closely, and a funny thing happened. That huge grin on his face made me smile too. I mean, he was so happy! Then I couldn’t help it. I started laughing! Before long the whole thing felt hilarious. I mean, how could I stay angry with my little brother when he was so excited?
That Christmas morning, I learned the importance of stopping to pray whenever bad feelings start to develop. After all, Christmas is supposed to be a happy holiday, not an angry one.

This story happened in the USA.
Zack likes to run, jump, and play. Zack also has sensory processing disorder.
For Zack, that means he doesn’t like loud noises. And he likes to do the same things every day.
Every afternoon he plays with the same toy airplane.
Every night he reads the same bedtime story.
And every Sunday he sits in the same chair during Primary.
One day at church, all the kids practiced for the Primary program in the chapel. This was very different!
Zack doesn’t like it when things are different.
Mom had him stand in the front row so he had room to wiggle.
His friend stood next to him to help him feel better.
His teacher gave him headphones to make everything quieter. But Zack was still upset.
Then the music director and the Primary president had an idea.
Zack’s special job was just right for him! He was happy to feel Heavenly Father’s love.
Illustrations by Natalie Briscoe

Some months ago I heard that the wife of a friend was again threatening miscarriage. I hurried, along with others who were concerned about the baby, to make sure that things would be well. While arrangements were still being made, we were told that it was too late. This was the third time she had gone through this painful experience. I asked myself: What can I say to comfort them? How will the Lord help them overcome this new blow?
The day she left the hospital she heard about another sister from her stake who was going through the same experience. Full of trust in the Lord, she went to visit the sister and give her support. She changed her own tragedy into a blessing of comfort for others.

Photographs provided by the author; photo illustration by David Stoker
Sixteen! What a time of life! “Nobody should have to go through this alone,” I thought.
My wise parents were kind and always gave me good counsel. My older sister had just gotten married and moved out of state. My little brother was involved with his 11-year-old concerns. I had great friends, and I knew my Church leaders sincerely cared about me.
But my older brother, Gary, was my confidant. I looked up to him in all things as a teenager. “Whenever I talk to him, things make more sense,” I said to myself. “I wish he could be here right now.”
But he wasn’t. He was far away in Japan, serving a full-time mission.
Despite missing Gary, I did have a fun birthday.
My mom made me our traditional birthday breakfast, and I received a few gifts before going to school. That night, my family and I went out for a pizza dinner and ended with birthday cake. I even let myself daydream about dating, driving, and other exciting things I would do as a 16-year-old.
However, the best present I received that day
was a letter in the mail. Gary hadn’t forgotten my super special day! This was before the days of email, so a letter took a long time to travel from Japan to Cache Valley, Utah, USA. I was amazed that his letter arrived right on my birthday! The letter was handwritten, which made it more like having my brother present with me as I read:
“Dear Merilee:
“Well, you have got the big birthday coming up, don’t you? I guess when you get this letter it will already be past. I can’t believe it—you are 16 years old. It seems like only a few years ago when you used to [wear your little red cowboy hat].
“Stay sweet and pure, and always let everyone know that the Church means a lot to you. If you do that, you won’t ever get into a situation where you have to make a decision with all the peer pressure weighing on you. Example: In high school, everyone knew that I didn’t want to drink or smoke, not at all, so I never got invited to a party where that sort of thing went on. My friends knew I didn’t do that. …
“If you let people know your standards, then people with your standards are attracted to you. I don’t mean you have to tell everyone, but actions speak loud. Your spirit is really sweet, and you do fit your name. And you have a good sense of humor. Happy ‘Sweet 16’ Birthday!”
The last sentence was underlined in red. No other birthday present could’ve been better! I read it over and over again, until he was back home from Japan and we could finally talk to each other face to face.
It has been years since I received that letter, but
I still have it. Many things have changed since then, but not my love for my brother. Today I sustain him not only as my brother and friend but also as Elder Gary E. Stevenson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. The counsel he offers as a special witness of Christ to all
the world is an added strength in my life, just like the letter he sent me on my 16th birthday.
The author lives in Utah, USA.

The influence of Heber’s mother, Rachel Ridgeway Ivins Grant, was equally as powerful. Rachel’s wealthy family in the eastern United States offered her a large income if she would renounce the gospel of Jesus Christ. But she refused and stood by her testimony. After the death of her husband, the young widow, who had been left penniless, worked sewing clothing and taking in boarders in order to provide for her son.
She taught Heber the value of hard work, and together they eked out a meager existence. In the process, Rachel and Heber grew very close. He was later to say of her: “I stand here today as one whose mother was all to him. She was both father and mother to me; she set an example of integrity, of devotion and love, of determination, and honor second to none. I stand here today as the president of the Church because I have followed the advice and counsel and the burning testimony of the divinity of the work of God, which came to me from my mother.”4

Another season of cross-country had come to an end, which meant it was time for our team’s annual awards ceremony. I had loved running on the team, but as the ceremony progressed, I started to become discouraged. I knew that I hadn’t been fast enough to receive any awards. It frustrated me that I couldn’t run as fast as I wanted to, especially after working so hard.
Right when I’d lost all hope of receiving an award, I heard my name announced. To my surprise, my coach recognized me for being the Most Improved runner. Our coach gave this award only to the person who had achieved the biggest difference between her fastest time from last season and her fastest time from the current one. This year it was me.
I had been so focused on what I hadn’t accomplished that, until then, I didn’t recognize how much better I’d become.
Now, whenever I’m discouraged because I don’t feel like I’m enough, I remind myself to look back and be grateful for how far I’ve come with the Lord’s help.

As a young adult, my bishop and his wife, who traveled a lot for their business, told me that they shared a Book of Mormon with someone on every trip they took.
That inspired me. I admired them, and their examples touched my heart. I decided that if I ever got the chance to travel outside of Utah, USA, I would follow their example and share a Book of Mormon each time.
As a cheerleader for Brigham Young University, I traveled frequently with the cheerleading team. Before my first trip, I bought a Book of Mormon and wrote my testimony in it. I wanted to develop the courage to share what I valued most with others: my testimony and the Book of Mormon. I wanted to be like my bishop and his wife. I wanted to be like Jesus Christ. I wanted to help gather others and help them to come unto Him.
I quickly learned that if I prayed before each trip to be led to the one who needed it, a person would show up at the right time and the right place for me to make sharing the Book of Mormon natural and easy. The more I practiced, the easier my sharing became. My journeys became more meaningful for me. I was always thrilled to find Heavenly Father’s blessed recipient of this sacred testament of Christ.
When I traveled, I pondered, “Where should I go to find the one whom Heavenly Father is sending me to this time? What can I say to him or her to convey how precious the Book of Mormon is to me?” My thoughts and actions became focused outside of my own needs and entertainment, and I felt increased love for everyone I met. I tried to look at them through the Savior’s eyes. I prayed for them to accept the divine gift that Heavenly Father had sent me to offer them.
I was sad when my senior year came to an end. Being a cheerleader for BYU was a lifelong dream for me. I would have enjoyed the incredible experience to cheer no matter what, but the opportunity to share a copy of the Book of Mormon on each cheerleading trip enriched my life in beautiful, unexpected ways.
Sharing the Book of Mormon was a valuable and easy way to add an extra layer of meaning to my university experience. I know that the people with whom I shared the Book of Mormon were specifically guided to receive it. I also know that into the incredible tapestry of my life, Heavenly Father wove a loving and sweet tender mercy: He allowed me to feel His love for His children in a special way every trip I took.
After I graduated, I decided to always continue looking for someone with whom I can share my testimony. Over time, I developed greater ability and comfort with sharing my testimony. I learned to no longer fear sharing it. I believe everyone can become more comfortable sharing their testimony with practice and by asking for divine help.

Ashley P., 16, attended church in another faith for the first six or seven years of her life. Then her parents stopped going. Still, they taught her about Heavenly Father and the power of prayer, so she grew up believing in God. Throughout her early teen years, she attended various worship services with friends.
Just before her sophomore year of high school, Ashley was struggling, so she looked for answers through prayer. “I prayed that I would be able to be happy in high school. I asked Heavenly Father, ‘Please help me find something that will make me truly happy.’”
Within a few weeks, she started to get to know a classmate, Katie J., in orchestra class. Because they shared a music stand, talking happened easily.
“One day after school in the orchestra room, several of us started talking about our faith,” recalls Katie. “Religion is a big thing for a lot of kids in orchestra—most of the kids have strong beliefs and high standards, so those kinds of discussions happen a lot. Talking about the Church wasn’t scary for that reason—people are open to other people’s opinions and are generally accepting.”
“Katie started telling us about her church,” Ashley recalls. “I asked her a lot of questions after that discussion, and she suggested I go with her to church. And I found that I really wanted to.”
A few days later, Katie told Ashley about the Book of Mormon and showed her a copy. She had written her testimony in it and told Ashley she wanted to give it to someone, but she wasn’t sure whom. “I wanted that book,” says Ashley, smiling. “But I didn’t want to just come out and say, ‘Can I have that?’ As it turned out, she gave it to me a few days later.”
Shortly after that, Katie repeated her invitation to Ashley to attend church with her and her family, and Ashley accepted. That pattern continued for the next two months. “I loved church!” says Ashley. “I loved that families worshipped together—sacrament meeting was for both parents and children. That is what church should be about—being there with your family.
“But I also loved that there were lessons specifically for different groups. Young Women strengthened me so much—I felt so accepted by the young women there. I have made lifelong friends.”
In time, Ashley began meeting with the missionaries. “I had questions about things I had wondered about since I was a kid,” Ashley says. “The missionaries answered my questions perfectly, especially when it came to the plan of salvation. It all made sense. And as I prayed about it, I got answers.”
Although Ashley’s parents initially asked her to wait until she was 18 to be baptized, they later told her that if she really felt that she needed to be baptized, she could. Shortly after that, her family began praying together at dinnertime. And a month after Ashley’s baptism in June 2010, her brother, Josh, was baptized. The whole family even joined in one of his meetings with the missionaries. “My family situation regarding the Church totally flipped,” Ashley says.
“I have learned that Heavenly Father will bless us and help us if what we want is righteous,” Ashley says. In addition to helping her find good friends and true happiness, she says, “He helps me with other things too. I pray every day, and He always finds ways to comfort and bless each of us.”
Ashley points out that sometimes that comfort and those blessings come through other people, as they came to her through Katie. “You never know who you are going to touch spiritually,” she says. “Don’t be afraid to try. You never know if they are struggling with something hard in their life. They might really need to hear your testimony or learn about the Church. Don’t hold it in.”
Katie agrees. “If you feel a prompting to say something, don’t doubt it—go for it! If you doubt your testimony, people will see that. But if you are an example of what you believe in, they’ll see that too.
“Take the opportunities you find,” she continues. “If there is a religious discussion at school, you don’t want to miss that kind of chance. Be open and honest about what you believe in. Explain it to the best of your ability. It can change your life—and the life of a friend.”

From the moment my feet hit the floor that morning, I could tell something was off.
Do you ever have one of those days—almost like a beat-yourself-up kind of day? I spent that entire morning criticizing myself for every single decision I had made.
As the morning progressed, I couldn’t seem to shake my feelings of inadequacy and failure. So I prayed to my loving Heavenly Father, begging for a change in attitude, the strength to get through the day, and opportunities to serve.
Afterward, the morning started to pick up pace. Before I knew it, I had completed almost all my duties for the day and was standing in my kitchen, preparing a yummy treat to give to my bosses for “Boss Day.” As I poured melted chocolate over rice cereal, an interesting thought came to my mind:
“You should give Sister Jones (name has been changed) some of your treat!”
I immediately pushed that thought aside. I counted off the people I had already dedicated a treat bag to and determined there wasn’t enough.
“I’ll send her a text and ask her how she’s doing,” I thought. “At least then she will know I was thinking of her!”
Well, as He often does, the Lord wanted me to do something I didn’t necessarily want to do. I finished making my treat and divided it evenly into just enough bags for the people on my list. As I arranged the treats, something made me pause. I counted and recounted the number of treats and was taken aback by what I found.
Somehow I had ended up with one extra bag. I smiled, knowing exactly who that treat bag was for.
But as I looked at my schedule for the rest of the day, I realized I just didn’t have time to deliver the treat.
“It will still be good tomorrow, or even the next day!” I thought. But suddenly, I felt this unexplainable urgency come over me. I knew I needed to go and deliver that treat, right then and there. So even though my hair was a mess, the meat for lunch still wasn’t defrosted, and this sister lived in a different town, I found myself looking up her address.
You know what is amazing? When you are on the Lord’s errand, you can truly feel His hand helping you. My hair never looked so good in so short a time, I was able to make a different meal for lunch, and it just so happened that my dad had filled up my car with gas a few days earlier. The Lord helped prepare the way for me to serve this sister.
But even with all that, as I headed down the highway, I thought of all the reasons this was the wrong idea. What if Sister Jones wasn’t home? What if she was home? What if she didn’t like chocolate? What if she caught me trying to covertly sneak it into her mailbox? What if an animal got it? Endless scenarios came charging through my mind, and honestly the only reason I stuck to the plan was because I was already over halfway there.
I finally pulled up to her house and mustered all my courage to go knock on her door. When there was no answer, I stuck the treat inside her doorway and raced back to my car.
Immediately, an overwhelming sensation of peace and happiness enveloped me. I felt so good! It was such a stark contrast to the dark mood I had woken up in, and I felt joy as the rest of the day sped by.
If you would have told me that adding a 30-minute trip into my crazy schedule would turn out to be a blessing, I would have laughed. However, that is exactly what it turned out to be.
Heavenly Father answered my humble prayer in a way I did not expect. He knew I needed an opportunity to serve so I could gain some perspective by putting someone else first. Honestly, I don’t think Sister Jones needed the treat; I, however, needed to give it to her. I cannot tell you how much peace came from that one simple act.

In 2021, my parents were called as mission leaders over the France Lyon Mission. In 2022, Elder Soares came to visit. In his talk to the missionaries, he mentioned that his luggage got lost on one of his flights.
This was kind of a wake-up call for me. It’s easy to see apostles and prophets on our screens and think that life is easy for them. But our leaders don’t ask to do this—they are called to do it. They choose to follow the Lord, and that means leaving behind their plans for the future.
Elder Soares taught me what it means to be a disciple of Christ. Even though he was busy and had his own struggles, he tried to talk to as many members as possible. I realized that the General Authorities are people like you and me who have chosen Christ and work to show His love.
Lydie L.

It had been four years since I had come home for Easter, so I had looked forward to the break from school and the Easter activities with my family. We were in the kitchen fixing supper Friday night when I asked Mom about the family reunion she was organizing.
“Everyone wants to go back to the lake,” she told me as she chopped vegetables. “But during the six-hour car trip last year …” I looked up as the chopping ceased and her voice broke. Tears crept from the corners of her eyes, and her face crumpled. “I thought I was going to die. I really thought I was going to die.”
I didn’t know how to respond to my gentle, patient mother when she talked about the possibility of her death. I wanted to hug her until her shoulders stopped shaking. I wanted to tell her everything would be all right—the doctors would find out what this disease was and give her medicine and fix everything. But I couldn’t.
I had refused to think of death throughout the year of her sickness, even as I fasted and prayed and hoped. Still I watched her weaken and suffer. She wasn’t vocal in her suffering. She just worked harder because she was unable to sleep at night or even sit down. The pain clutched at her heart and made her shake whenever she tried to relax. But soon her suffering became visible in the dark circles around her eyes and the fatigue deep in her eyes themselves.
Discouragement soon accompanied the pain. After a full year of visiting doctors and undergoing tests, she was distressed when the specialists were unable to discover what was causing the intense pain around her heart. The test results all came back normal. Nothing was wrong, the doctors said.
But we knew the situation wasn’t normal. My mother did not normally pace the floor at night or stop in the middle of vacuuming to sob. And my mother, who had faced many types of pain in her life without ever complaining, did not normally talk about dying.
During the two days before Easter, I tried again to think of something I could do to help her. But her disease had left us all feeling powerless. Even my father, a doctor, could not fix the situation, in spite of his years of training, experience, and knowledge. I could not alleviate her burdens—she even wanted to do most housework herself, because resting made the pain worse. So she was always working, working to the point of exhaustion. And because there was so little we could do to relieve her suffering, she seemed to suffer alone.
We went to church on Easter morning. As I glanced at my mother sitting beside me, my thoughts wandered back to her high, cracked voice and the chilling sentence that had consumed me since Friday night—“I thought I was going to die.”
Suddenly my mother rose from the bench and made her way to the pulpit.
“On this Easter Sunday,” she began, “I want to bear my testimony of Jesus Christ’s Atonement. King Benjamin said that Christ ‘shall suffer temptations, and pain of body, hunger, thirst, and fatigue, even more than man can suffer’ (Mosiah 3:7; emphasis added). Many of you may not know that I have been sick lately. The nights have been long”—her voice softened as she continued—“but not lonely. During the worst of it, the Savior has been my friend, my support. I testify that Jesus Christ knows our suffering because He experienced it—and more. He will lift us from our sorrows just as He lifted us from an eternal death.”
As my mom bore her testimony, a new picture of suffering replaced my former preoccupation with my mother and myself. It was a picture of the Savior in the Garden of Gethsemane, full of such anguish that He bled from every pore as He suffered for all, including my mother’s physical agony and my own emotional pain.
I realized then that I did not need to tell my mother that it would be OK. We couldn’t fix everything, but she was comforted by her knowledge that the Savior already had.

When I was 11, I had another experience that helped me feel peace in my heart. Stake conference was coming up, and I got to sing in the stake choir. I was so excited! I wore a pretty white shirt, and I felt so special. The song we sang had the words from John 14:27, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”
Those words really touched my heart, and I’ve remembered them ever since. When I sang those words, I knew they were true. I felt the Holy Ghost tell me that following Jesus Christ helps us feel peace. Since then, whenever I have challenges, this scripture comes to my mind and gives me peace. The truth I learned when I was young has blessed my whole life.

Mia Maids Kate Hancock and Charmaine Davison, from the Sydney suburbs of Revesby and Gymea, have been friends since they were very young. Even though they live about 45 minutes apart, they go out of their way to do things together. They like the same music, they enjoy spending time together (especially at the beach), and sometimes they even like the same boys.
That closeness became even more precious last year when tragedy struck Kate’s family.
“My nephew, Ben Innis, died just before Christmas, and Charmaine helped me through it,” says Kate. “She always reminds me to go to the scriptures when I feel bad about it. She helps me remember that we know where he is and that he’s all right.”
But it was more than just Charmaine’s good advice that kept Kate going. It was also her willingness to listen, to sympathize, and to care that helped Kate through a very rough time.
“My grandfather had died some time previously,” says Charmaine. “I was just devastated. He died during school holidays, so I had heaps of time to read the scriptures. It helped me so much, and I knew it would help Kate, too.”
So now when Kate and Charmaine list the kinds of activities they like to do together, they not only include things like shopping, talking on the phone, and sports, but they also remember things like studying the scriptures and attending the temple.
“When you do temple work for a member of your family, and you feel really worthy to be there, it helps you feel closer to people who are gone,” says Charmaine. “It’s such a good feeling.”
And, not surprisingly, Kate couldn’t agree more.

Shortly after I returned from my mission, my stake president asked me to interpret for Elder Hartman Rector Jr., then of the Seventy, who had come to Mendoza, Argentina, to preside over a stake conference. These marvelous opportunities have continued over the years. I interpreted for President Thomas S. Monson and other General Authorities during the 11 dedicatory sessions of the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple.
During four of those sessions, I read the dedicatory prayer in Spanish from the pulpit in the celestial room. My voice broke up several times because of my emotions; tears filled my eyes and flowed down my face. I was reading the inspired prayers and promises for my country from Heavenly Father, who lives and reveals His will, just as He did 12 years earlier through my mission president when I accepted the challenge to learn English.
I also interpreted for the prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley, during the four dedicatory sessions of the Montevideo Uruguay Temple and the four dedicatory sessions of the Asunción Paraguay Temple.
It’s difficult for me to explain how sacred those moments were for me when I stood alongside prophets, seers, and revelators in the Lord’s house. I felt somewhat like Peter, James, and John when they had the amazing experience of seeing Jesus transfigured. Peter expressed my feelings when he told Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here” (Matt. 17:4).

Jan banged the hot iron down on the pillowcase and grudgingly slid it back and forth until the fabric was smooth. I’m tired of ironing pillowcases! I’m tired of ironing everything! she thought as she looked at the pile of clean but wrinkled clothes. There’s too much to do!
The relentless howling of the fierce wind outside was interrupted only by the rhythmic sound of Jan’s iron thumping the ironing board. She glanced out the window at the raging blizzard and shivered. I wish I weren’t the oldest daughter. Then I wouldn’t have to do all the work while Mom’s sick.
Just an hour ago her mother had said, “When you’re finished with the ironing, dear, come to my room and we’ll decide what to prepare for dinner.”
Jan groaned to herself just thinking about dinner and dirty dishes. Why does it have to be me? It isn’t fair! Tears filled her eyes, and her long brown hair brushed her pale cheeks as she smoothed the pillowcase with her hand, folded it neatly, and added it to the growing pile of finished ironing. She thought of her mother resting in bed and the other four children playing quietly elsewhere in the house. The storm seemed to put a hush over everyone, as if they were just silently passing time until it was over.
Later, with a sigh of relief, Jan picked up the last item to iron—one of Dad’s handkerchiefs. I know Mom can’t help having to stay in bed so she won’t lose the baby, she reasoned as she ironed. I can tell she’s trying to act cheerful, but I know she’s pretty worried. And when Dad looks at her, he seems worried too.
Looking outside, Jan could see that the storm was getting worse. The wind shrieked louder and tore at the house, adding more gloom to her mood. Suddenly the laundry room light flickered and went out. It was still early enough so that, despite the storm, the snow reflected plenty of light through the window.
Jan became aware of a faint, musical sound. Where’s that coming from? she wondered. It can’t be the radio, because the power’s off. She moved to the doorway and listened.
“It’s really beautiful!” she whispered, still listening. She began to walk from room to room, following the flutelike sound and trying to discover where it was coming from. She wondered who could be playing it. No one in the family played the flute. The haunting sound was peaceful, smooth. It stopped, then started again, faded, then rose again.
Still following the sound, Jan came to the door of her own room! What’s going on? she wondered. The door was slightly open. Her ear tuned to the clear, gentle sound; she quietly entered. The reflection of the white snow swirling and drifting outside her window brightened the pinks and whites of her room. She followed the sound—louder now—to the window. Afraid of disturbing whatever was making the unusual music, she very cautiously reached up and moved the white, frothy curtain aside.
“Well, what do you know!” Jan exclaimed. The music she heard was being made naturally, and simply, by the raging wind! The wind was blowing so hard against her window that the air being forced through the cracks was making a delightful tune.
Jan stood there in awe, gazing at the window and the bright, drifting snow. Then, interrupting her reverie, she turned and ran to her mother’s room. Delighted to find her mother awake, Jan excitedly told her of her discovery.
Mother’s dark eyes sparkled, and her tired mouth widened into a smile. She lifted her hand for Jan to take. “Show me!” she said with excitement.
Jan supported her mother as they went to Jan’s room and quietly lay side by side on her bed. The only sound was the music of the wind.
“It’s lovely!” her mother whispered.
After listening in silence for a few more minutes, Jan said, “I’d really be scared to be out there in that blizzard all alone!”
“Yes, so would I,” agreed her mother. “But isn’t it wonderful how that wild storm can whistle through a tiny crack and provide us with such an unusual musical treat?”
“Yes.” Forgetting her fear, Jan snuggled closer and rested her head on her mother’s shoulder. Her thoughts drifted back to earlier in the afternoon. It had seemed like the end of the world then. But maybe things weren’t so bad after all. A feeling of peace and well-being swelled within her.
“Jan?” Her mother’s voice broke the silence. “With the power off, what shall we do for dinner?”
Jan giggled. “Well, I think we have enough stew left over from last night. I’ll put it in the pan and warm it up in the fireplace. Then we can sit around the fire and eat like the pioneers did!”
“Like the pioneers!” her mother echoed.
Jan remembered the peace and contentment she’d felt when she’d heard the music in the wind. She knew her life was a lot easier than that of the pioneers. She smiled and went to get the dinner ready.