Gospel Story Finder

For my birthday this year, I decided to have a lemonade stand and a bake sale and give the money to a children’s hospital. My sister, cousins, and I made flyers and took them around our neighborhood. Then we made treats and lemonade. We were so excited to see so many friends and neighbors come to our sale. I am happy I could help the sick children and their families. I think that’s what Jesus would do.
Avery J., age 7, Utah, USA

When it came time to plan youth conference, leaders of a stake in northern Utah, USA, asked the youth what they thought would make it memorable.
After some discussion, their answer was simple: “We want to serve!” They decided they wanted to make a difference where they live. They wanted to help the hungry and the homeless, the lonely and the elderly. They also wanted to hold workshops in which professionals could help people struggling with serious issues like suicide and depression.
They adopted the theme, “You Love, You Serve.” And during the three-day youth conference, they did just that.

Bishop Benson told how he had been prompted by the Holy Ghost to check on Sister Henderson during the week. Sister Henderson was a widow who lived about two miles up a dirt road off the main highway into town. When the bishop went to see her, he found that her furnace had broken down. She didn’t have a telephone and was no longer able to drive, so she had prayed to Heavenly Father for help. The still, small voice had told her that all would be well.

In 1986, President Ezra Taft Benson promised the Saints that the power of the Book of Mormon would begin to flow into our lives the moment we began a serious study of the book (see Ensign, November 1986, page 7). Inspired by his promise, my wife and I decided to start reading the Book of Mormon with our family.
At the time we had four children, ages six months to six years. At first, we were able to read only one column each day. With 531 pages and twice that many columns, the book seemed like a never-ending undertaking.
Despite, or maybe because of, how slowly we read, we made every effort to read each weekday. Our children were eager to please—often waking us to start reading. Although we missed very few days, it took us more than six months to read 1 Nephi.
By this time our two oldest children were able to read a few words by themselves. As we slowly made our way through 2 Nephi, including quotations from the writings of Isaiah, we were growing as a family in spiritual as well as other ways. We added a daily devotional time and another child to the family. Dirty diapers and cries of hunger often interrupted our reading, but each day we would finish our allotted column no matter how long it seemed to take.
About the time our oldest turned 11 years old, we started reading at an accelerated pace—one page per day. As we neared the middle of that year, we received word that the Alberta Temple would be rededicated the next spring, an event our family had been looking forward to. We did some calculating and found that if we continued reading at the same pace, we would have one chapter of the Book of Mormon left to read on the day the dedication would begin. We planned to travel the 1,200 kilometers to attend this event, rise early that morning, and drive to the temple grounds to read the last chapter.
The morning of the dedication dawned bright and clear. The temple grounds were beautiful, and we sat down behind the old stone monument as we prepared to read.
The Spirit seemed to be with us more strongly than usual as we finished the chapter and concluded the volume of scripture. It had taken us about five years to complete reading it. We each took a turn praying for confirmation that the Book of Mormon was indeed the word of God. We didn’t see any angels or hear voices, but we did feel the calm, peaceful, loving presence of the Holy Ghost. Tears filled our eyes as the Spirit testified to each of us of the truthfulness and sacredness of the Book of Mormon.
We gave thanks for the opportunity we’d had to become closer to the great prophets of the Book of Mormon and for the blessings that we had received through reading their words—blessings of increased faith, strength in the face of adversity, and greater love and tranquility in our home. Indeed, we had received the blessings a prophet of God had promised us.

In the vicinity where I once lived and served, the Church operated a poultry project, staffed primarily by volunteers from the local wards. Most of the time it was an efficiently operated project, supplying to the bishops’ storehouse thousands of fresh eggs and hundreds of pounds of dressed poultry. On a few occasions, however, being volunteer city farmers meant not only blisters on the hands but also frustration of heart and mind.
For instance, I shall ever remember the time we gathered the Aaronic Priesthood young men to give the project a spring-cleaning. Our enthusiastic and energetic throng assembled at the project and in a speedy fashion uprooted, gathered, and burned large quantities of weeds and debris. By the light of the glowing bonfires, we ate hot dogs and congratulated ourselves on a job well done.
However, there was just one disastrous problem. The noise and the fires so disturbed the fragile population of 5,000 laying hens that most of them went into a sudden molt and ceased laying. Thereafter we tolerated a few weeds so that we might produce more eggs.

When my stake president first asked me if I would be willing to serve a service mission, my first thought was, “Yes!”
I trusted that the Lord had a work for me to do, and I believed that whatever He wanted me to do would bring me growth and happiness because He loved me and wanted what was best for me.
My second thought was, “What’s a service mission?”
My stake president explained what a service mission was as we met together in his office on that Sunday, but I didn’t really understand it or the importance of it until much later. At the time I even wondered if this calling meant there was something wrong with me, because I didn’t yet see the bigger purpose behind service missions.
I received my call to serve about a month before my mission actually started. This meant that I met my service mission leaders, attended a service mission conference in my area, and was even asked to lead companion study for the other two sisters in my area before I had been set apart.
I used the month between getting my call and giving my “farewell” talk (even though I didn’t go anywhere) to learn about service missions and the service missionaries around me.
At the service mission conference I attended, I learned that a lot of service missionaries, when they are first called, feel like they just weren’t good enough to serve a proselyting mission. I sheepishly recalled my own initial reaction to my call.
Ultimately, I realized that I wasn’t called to a service mission because I was inadequate, but because this was Heavenly Father’s direction for me. I wasn’t “less than” proselyting missionaries; rather, He needed me to help build His kingdom through other means of service. I received a strong testimony that all missions are important to Heavenly Father and important in His work, because all missionaries desire to serve Him and serve His children.
After learning about the other service missionaries in my area, meeting them, and hearing their stories, I knew they were wonderful, righteous servants of the Lord. I realized that even though some of us had felt a little sorry for ourselves at the beginning of our missions, we all came to the same conclusion: the Lord loves service missionaries and that we are right where He wants us to be, learning and growing while serving Him as His hands on the earth.

I would like to share a few personal experiences from our lives as we have felt and seen and personally witnessed the unmistakable power and love of our living Father in Heaven.
We have known many great and noble spirits here in this special place. Our faith and testimonies have been forever strengthened by what we have witnessed in the lives of so many faithful servants of our Father. In my work in medicine, I have felt on countless occasions His healing power step in where my professional knowledge and skill had reached their limit. I have witnessed miraculous healings. Some who had crossed the veil came back and told me of their experiences being on both sides. I have seen the hand of our Father reach out to His children and felt His thoughts and words flow through my mind and my mouth to express His love for them. I have felt impressions come to my mind to look for something or think of something that I would not have otherwise done without His influence and His love for each individual. I have also seen many times when healing did not occur and witnessed the pain and heartache of loss. It is often difficult to understand or explain when it seems that prayers are not being answered in the way that we want. These are truly the times when our “hearts” are tested and tried. Do we really trust Him and put ourselves in His hands and say, “Thy will be done.” We had some dear friends who lost a young son in a flash flood while he was on his first overnight camp with the Boy Scouts. He and our son were walking together and both were swept into the flood waters together. How do you explain why one is taken to the other side of the veil, and the other one, our son, remains here? It is in these times, however, that we feel His comforting reassurance that eternity truly is our “rock and our salvation”, that the promises given by The Lord in D&C 121-122 are literally true, and that He understands.

I woke up one morning during my junior year in high school in a rotten mood. It was 5:30 a.m., it was cold, and it was a Tuesday—a day with a heavy class load. I’d already decided it was going to be a miserable day.
I bumbled around the kitchen and got my lunch ready. Then I plopped down at the table for some plain cereal and milk. Grumpy, I dug my spoon into the bowl and took a huge bite of breakfast. I scowled at the wall.
A small plaque caught my attention. My mother had received it from her visiting teachers. In cheerful letters it said, “Blessings brighten when you count them.”
“No,” I thought darkly. “I’m in a bad mood today and nothing is going to change it.”
In my head, I started an argument with the plaque.
“Absolutely nothing can brighten this day,” I thought. I took another bite of cereal and crunched it angrily. But my eyes were drawn back to the white writing: “Blessings brighten when you count them.”
“You won’t work,” I told the plaque. “You can’t work. I’m pretty sure even a box of puppies couldn’t make me happy today.”
“You don’t like puppies,” my brain argued.
“Exactly,” I said.
I like to be right all the time, and the plaque was challenging me. “Fine!” I said out loud, “I’ll prove you’re wrong.”
I looked around the kitchen, daring myself to find something I was grateful for. The obstinate part of me was still being unreasonable.
“It is 5:43 in the morning. I have nothing to be grateful for.”
I crunched another bite of cereal. Then suddenly I had a thought.
“It would be mighty hard to eat your cereal without a spoon.”
I stopped. I looked at my spoon. Then I looked at the cereal in my bowl.
“I guess you’re right,” I thought reluctantly. “It would be pretty hard to eat cereal without a spoon.”
“Now,” the thought came to mind, “imagine trying to eat your cereal without a bowl.” I actually smiled a little at the thought of a big puddle of milk and cereal on the table.
“What about without a chair to sit in?” I thought.
I felt the chair beneath me and gripped my spoon a little tighter, looking at the simple utensil with appreciation. My gaze drifted back to the plaque that still said, “Blessings brighten when you count them.”
This time, I gave a tiny smile. “I have a spoon. I have something to be grateful for. And a bowl. And a chair.”
I started to see dozens of things I was thankful for. Not only did I have food, but there was also food in the pantry and downstairs in the storage room. I would probably never have to go hungry. My parents worked hard to feed my siblings and me. They also worked hard to create a safe house for us to live in. And they loved me.
All of a sudden, many things gained new meaning: It was cold outside, but I lived in a warm house. It was early in the morning, but I had the opportunity to go to seminary and to school. I was eating breakfast alone, but Tuesdays were my dad’s temple days, so I could rejoice that he was in the house of the Lord. I could be grateful that I had parents who were devoted to the gospel. Many times they got up early to go and serve.
“So, plaque, I guess you were right. My blessings did brighten as I counted them.” The dark mood from minutes before had evaporated. It had been replaced with a spirit of peace.
“No hard feelings,” I thought. I realized that I’d only scratched the surface of understanding how blessed I am. In fact, I was so busy feeling blessed that I was nearly late for seminary. As I walked out of the house, I was full of gratitude—for my family, my Heavenly Father, a wooden plaque, and the women who had given it to my mother.
And, yes, I was grateful for something as small and easily overlooked as a spoon.

During this time we had one more strong desire. I love country music and had adopted as my theme song, “Give Me One More Shot.” We wanted to go on a mission while we were young enough to enjoy the work and had enough energy to be productive. We had been with the new plant for three years and the launch was going well when our bishop called and asked to see us. He was a little apologetic. He had been prompted during April conference to ask us to go on a mission. He knew we were not retired and thought, “Why should they go on a mission now?” He had delayed asking us for about a month. He said he didn’t know when we should go but offered to join us in prayer and get the answer.

Two weeks later, late one evening, he called and asked if he could stop by. He had received an answer to our prayer – he knew that we should go now. We got an application and started the process. During our physicals I found out I had cancer. The reason for the call now was abundantly clear. I spent the next year going through a successful surgery and recovery because of the early detection. What an incredible blessing as a result of our desire to go on a mission.

We filled out our mission application and received a call to the Republic of Georgia as the country director for humanitarian work. What a shock! I had spent 24 years in the military and now we were being sent to serve with our foes of the cold war. We wondered how we would be received and even had thoughts concerning our safety. We had no young missionaries in Georgia and shortly after we arrived the couple that had been teaching English returned home. We were alone in the country with a small branch of the church, a 400-student English school to keep going and humanitarian projects to finish and start. We kept the English school going until the new couple arrived and continued the humanitarian service.

Our humanitarian work grew nicely and tugged at our heart. We worked with orphanages, schools, hospitals and city governments. Our projects fed and clothed the young, provided wheelchairs to the lame, brought a doctor to the country to remove cataracts so the blind could see, and provided water to thousands of people. The humanitarian efforts of the church are quietly performed and very much appreciated. At one time the director of a blind school told us with tears in her eyes, “Many come to see our problems but you came back and did something about them.” Our hearts were full of gratitude for the opportunity to serve in this great effort. We were also able to hold missionary discussions, grow our small branch and prepare for the registration of the church in Georgia. Our earlier fears proved groundless. We developed wonderful relationships with local members and non-members. One of our best friends had been a member of the KGB; another was a regional governor in the communist party. There are really good people working under all kinds of government in all parts of the world. Our desires for a productive mission were again something better than we expected.

Pam’s work at hospitals and children’s schools has given her a special interest in the handicapped. She is learning sign language and now regularly assists the visitors to Disney World who are hearing impaired.

“I’ve been able to sign for our arts festival and recently at the Ohio and Pennsylvania schools for the deaf. You can’t imagine how excited these kids are when they learn that I am from Disney World and that I can communicate with them in sign language,” Pam said.

While attending the Missionary Training Center in Salt Lake City, my companion and I went to the Church cafeteria (the Lion House) for lunch on our first day. We noticed several General Authorities eating lunch together, and we made our way quietly to the rear corner so we could see but not be seen. The next person through the cafeteria line happened to be the prophet, President Heber J. Grant. After paying for his food, he started toward the other General Authorities and then noticed out of the corner of his eye two greener-than-green missionaries sitting back in the corner. He changed his direction and shared his lunch period with us just to set us at ease, just to commend us on our new calling, and to share some stories about his own mission. How thoughtful! How kind! The scripture came immediately to mind, “But he that is greatest among you shall be your servant” (Matthew 23:11).

It was while Hal was studying physics at the University of Utah that a conversation with his father marked one of those defining influences in his life. He asked his father for help with a complex mathematical problem. “My father was at a blackboard we kept in the basement,” Elder Eyring recalls. “Suddenly he stopped. ‘Hal,’ he said, ‘we were working this same kind of problem a week ago. You don’t seem to understand it any better now than you did then. Haven’t you been working on it?’”

A little chagrined, Hal admitted he had not. “You don’t understand,” his father went on. “When you walk down the street, when you’re in the shower, when you don’t have to be thinking about anything else, isn’t this what you think about?”

“When I told him no,” Elder Eyring concludes, “my father paused. It was really a very tender and poignant moment, because I knew how much he loved me and how much he wanted me to be a scientist. Then he said, ‘Hal, I think you’d better get out of physics. You ought to find something that you love so much that when you don’t have to think about anything, that’s what you think about.’”

The advice deeply impressed young Hal. He went on to finish his degree in physics, graduating not long after the end of the Korean War. During the war, the number of missionaries called from each ward had been greatly restricted. Further, by the time he graduated, Hal had already committed to a commission in the United States Air Force. So he entered the military without having served a full-time mission. But in a bishop’s blessing prior to his departure, Hal was promised that his military experience would be his mission.

That blessing proved to be prophetic, for though Hal was originally sent by the Air Force to the Sandia National Laboratories near Albuquerque, New Mexico, for temporary schooling, circumstances were such that he stayed on there for the full two years of his duty. Two weeks after his arrival, he was called as a district missionary in the Western States Mission. He served almost two years to the day in that calling.

I am reminded of the story that Elder L. Tom Perry shared with us just a few weeks ago at general conference time. It took place in the mid-seventies shortly after he had lost his first wife. Before one of the sessions of general conference he looked over where the wives usually sit, and of course his wife’s chair was vacant; she was not there. He stood up, ran outside the Tabernacle, and said, “I want to bring someone inside who would not have an opportunity to attend conference today.” Accordingly, he went right to the end of the line, found a lovely young lady, and introduced himself. After she had introduced herself as a student from Ricks College, he brought her inside and gave her the privilege of sitting in the seat that his wife would have occupied were she alive. During the session, he glanced over to look at her and observed tears streaming down her face. Afterward he went over and said, “I noticed that you were crying.” “I had lost my testimony,” she explained. “I thought, ’One last chance—I’m going to come to Salt Lake to attend general conference, and perhaps then I’ll know the gospel is true’ and then you came out and singled me from the crowd, brought me in, and sat me here. Even though I appreciate the great words that were spoken this day, it was your kindly act that let me know the gospel of Jesus Christ is true.” Each conference time, she writes a letter to Elder Perry, thanking him for his kindness.

Many leaders on the ward or branch and the stake or district level plan events that bring young women and Relief Society sisters together. Diana Gardner of the Harrogate Ward, York England Stake, says that Laurels were invited to go to the temple to do baptisms on a night when their ward Relief Society sisters were performing endowments. “The Laurels and Relief Society sisters were eating dinner at the cafeteria together and walking around the temple grounds together. Their discussions have had a major impact on the young women,” says Sister Gardner.

There’s a young man in the mission field who’s made that choice in the last month. I heard his story, but there must have been thousands of such choices made last month. His companion would have made Job’s critical friends seem like the Three Nephites. Just living and working with his companion required more contribution than the young missionary had dreamed he was going to have to make. The mission president authorized them to stay in their apartment because wind brought the effective temperature to 80 degrees below zero. So, the young man had to decide, “Shall we go out? We’ve been tracting and it’s produced nothing. For what it would cost us, what would we get? We haven’t got a contact, so we’d be just hitting doors.” Well, he went—that’s an odd investment decision, but he went. What he got was to meet one man, behind one of a hundred doors. In his letter about the man’s baptism, he said, “I’ve never been more happy in my life.”

Another entry was Friday, March 2, 1900, “Little Loi Roberts was given up to die by Dr. Stuttaford at the sanatorium [in Apia]. The patient little sufferer was administered to daily, and each time he would get relief. … His parents [Elder and Sister E. T. Roberts] were untiring in their efforts to allay pain and sufferings.”
Saturday, March 3, “Little Loi died at the sanatorium in Apia in the morning, making another sad day in the history of the mission.” Small wonder that the tombstone contained the words, “Rest sweet Loi, rest.” He was one and a half years old.

Some people think temples are just for adults. Of course, some people think the moon is made of blue cheese, the earth is square, and that white socks go well with a Sunday suit.
But the teenagers in Atlanta, Georgia, know that temples are for them, too. Over the past couple of years they’ve been busy earning money to help pay for the new temple in their city. They helped at the open house for the Atlanta Temple and attended the dedication. And now they go regularly to the temple to do baptisms for the dead—over 70,000 baptisms in the first six months the temple was open.
It has been like a giant window opened in the sky, and in a shimmery burst of gold, blessings seemed to float down upon the young people in Atlanta, thousands of sun-touched gifts from heaven, like birch leaves showering the ground in autumn.
The blessings started when the temple was announced—and the teenagers are still catching them.
“One morning early, when it was still dark and the sky was real clear, our seminary class went out to the temple site,” said Brad Day, 16. “We huddled there with our blankets. It was hard to concentrate on the seminary lesson, because of where we were. The teacher was good, but it was so exciting to think, this is where our temple is going to be. It was a magnetic type of feeling, drawing us to the temple.
“It was a really neat experience. You felt so close to the Lord, like you could talk to him about any problems you had. It brought our youth group really close.”
Those feelings of excitement about the temple grew stronger and stronger as the completion of the temple grew closer.
“Our family had jars that we’d save money in for the temple,” said Liz McGuire, 16.
“I gave money I earned from babysitting,” said another girl. “Everyone in our ward who gave money got a certificate for it.”
When the temple was completed, the young people helped at the open house by putting booties over the shoes of the thousands of visitors who came to see the temple before it was dedicated, so the carpets wouldn’t get dirty.
“I worked at the open house about seven days, in six-hour shifts,” said Kim Humphrey, 18. “I’d never lived by a temple before, and I realized from seeing the people who came from all around to see it how special it is to have one.”
“When Dale Murphy of the Atlanta Braves came through, we all wanted to put the booties on him,” said Scott Hammond, 14. “When he came to me, I joked with him that his feet were too big and to move on down the line. He put them on himself. Then we got his autograph for our ward Primary.”
“It was neat when we’d put the little slippers on people’s shoes, especially when my friends came up, because they’d make comments like ‘this is so pretty,’ and they’d come out saying what a neat experience it was to see the temple,” said Carol Anderson, 17.
Lisa Benham, 17, helped a blind lady through the temple at the open house. “I put the booties on her feet and went through the temple with her and her dog. She felt the walls, and I was tingling inside as the purpose of the temple was explained to her. I wondered if she would accept the gospel. It was a very special feeling.”
Many of the teenagers brought their friends, and sometimes family, to the temple open house.
“At school the open house was publicized, and everyone was curious,” said Paula Sewell, 18. “They all know I’m a Latter-day Saint, and I got to bring my friends to the temple. Since there are only four or five of us Church members at my school out of 2,000 students, it was really good to be able to go through the temple with my friends. It gave them the chance to hear more about the Church.
“My family’s not active in the Church, but my mom and step-dad went through the temple on their lunch hour. I got to take my little brothers there, too, and that was neat going in with them and teaching them about the Church. My brothers thought it was great, and they were reverent. That’s really amazing, getting my six-year-old brother to be reverent,” said Paula.
“When I went into the celestial room, they asked us to meditate and think about the temple, and even the nonmembers were amazed by the beauty and the calm,” said Christy Arrowood. “Sometimes when I’m rushed, I try to close my eyes and remember when I was back in that room and how I got rid of all the worries in my mind.”
For some people, like Emily Nielsen, 16, the temple brought special blessings.
“For me personally, the temple is very important,” said Emily. “My choicest memories have been made there. Our family adopted a baby, Matthew Kimball, and he was sealed to our family in the Los Angeles temple. As my brother and I followed our parents in their beautiful temple clothes into the temple, I knew that we’d be together forever.
“During the Atlanta Temple open house, I had a personal tour and was able to see rooms in the temple that weren’t shown on the regular tour. I had been very concerned about my mother’s health and was afraid. When we got to one of the sealing rooms, I asked if I could be left alone for a moment to pray. As I prayed, the Spirit came upon me, and I knew that everything would be all right and that the Lord loved me. And even though my mother died five months ago, everything is all right, just like the Lord promised me.
“The temple and its ordinances are special to me because, I know that through them I will be with my best friend, my mom, again, and that our relationship will last forever. I also know that if I live worthily, I’ll be able to be married in the temple to my eternal mate, and my mother will be there because she promised me.”
At the temple dedication, families attended together. Another shower of blessings fell upon the teenagers.
“Just sitting inside the temple during the dedication gave me a glimpse of what it would be like to live eternally with my family,” said Kerry Soper, 17. “It really brought my family closer together. The Spirit was so contagious, and you couldn’t think a negative thought because it was so peaceful and there was such a good spirit.
“It really affected my testimony. I don’t think it would be as strong as it is now without the temple. It made me reevaluate what I believe and made me stronger in wanting to be married in the temple and to go on a mission.”

“Remember that activity day is after school today,” Mom said at breakfast.
Clarissa sighed. “I know.”
“What’s wrong?” Mom asked. “I thought you loved activity day.”
“It’s all right,” Clarissa said.
“Remember how excited you were to go when you turned eight?” Mom asked. “And you like Sister Cobian.”
“She’s great,” Clarissa said. “It’s just hard because Ashley and I are the only two who go. I like Ashley, and she is always nice to me. But she is almost 12, and I just turned 9. I don’t really know what to say to her. It’s not that fun.”
Mom put her arm around Clarissa. “I’m sorry it’s hard sometimes. We have a small Primary without a lot of girls, but I’m sure you’ll have a good time this afternoon.”
After school Clarissa walked the one block to the church where they held activity day. Sister Cobian and Ashley greeted her happily. After the opening prayer Sister Cobian said, “I asked the Primary president about girls who are on the Primary rolls but don’t come to activity day or Primary. I have this list of the girls and their phone numbers. I thought that if we called them before each activity day, they might come join us.”
“That’s a great idea!” Clarissa exclaimed. “It would be fun to have more girls here.”
Sister Cobian smiled. “I’m glad you like the idea, because I want to ask you to call the girls before our next activity day.”
“Me?” Clarissa gulped. She wasn’t sure about that. Sister Cobian handed her the list. She knew all the girls from school, and some of them came to church occasionally. But it might be scary to call and invite them.
“Will you do it?” Sister Cobian asked.
Clarissa looked at the list again. Some of these girls were her age. Activity day would be a lot more fun if they came too. “Sure,” she said.
Before the next activity day, Clarissa called the girls on the list. She left messages or talked to all of them. It wasn’t hard at all.
The next day at school, Olivia, one of the girls Clarissa had called, asked her if they could walk to activity day together. Clarissa was thrilled! After school Clarissa and Olivia walked to the church together. When they entered the Primary room, Sister Cobian gave them a big smile.
Before the next activity day, Clarissa called the girls again. Olivia was excited to come again. Chelsea said she would come too. The next afternoon Clarissa felt so happy as she walked to the meetinghouse with Olivia and Chelsea.
That night Clarissa told her mother how fun activity day was with more girls. “I just wish Madison could come,” Clarissa said. “She’s my best friend.”
“Well, why can’t she?” Mom asked.
“Mom, she’s not on the list. She’s not a member of the Church.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Mom said. “You’ll be doing missionary work when you invite her. You’re already being a missionary by encouraging Olivia and Chelsea.”
Clarissa thought about that. When she called the activity-day girls again, she called Madison too. Madison asked her mom if she could go, and her mom said yes. Clarissa couldn’t believe how easy it was. She wondered why she hadn’t invited Madison months ago!
At activity day that week, Sister Cobian made an exciting announcement. At their next activity day, they were going to have a special guest teach them how to decorate cakes. Clarissa and Madison smiled at each other. That sounded fun! As they left that afternoon, Madison said, “Thanks for inviting me. I want to come next time to decorate cakes.”
The very next day, Clarissa started talking to all of her friends at school about the cake-decorating activity. Madison helped. Many of their friends said they wanted to come.
“There might be 15 girls at our next activity day,” Clarissa told her mother.
“Fifteen!” Mom exclaimed. “Where did you find that many girls?”
“I’ve been inviting all the girls in my class,” Clarissa said.
“That’s wonderful!” Mom said. “But you better let Sister Cobian know so she will be prepared for that many.”
Clarissa called Sister Cobian to tell her how many girls to expect. On activity day the Primary room was crowded with girls chattering and laughing as they decorated cakes. Sister Cobian winked at Clarissa and gave her a big smile.
Afterward Clarissa helped Sister Cobian clean up. Her friend Emily came to say good-bye. “Thanks,” she said shyly to Sister Cobian. “Is it OK if I invite my older sister and my two cousins next time?”
Sister Cobian smiled. “That would be great, Emily,” she said.
Clarissa could hardly wait for the next activity day!

Let me help you understand how this pattern of making early commitments can help you by relating the experience of one Church leader. As a young man he decided that he would always keep the Word of Wisdom and never use alcohol or tobacco. He does not remember what prompted him to make that important commitment at the time, but a crucial victory was won in his heart, and on his knees he made a commitment with the Lord to always keep that commandment. Over the years there were invitations to use these substances, but he learned that “no, thank you” was a good answer. There was no personal battle over the Word of Wisdom because years before he had made a commitment in his heart, and he had sincerely made a commitment to the Lord to obey that law.

Helping girls become proficient in the kitchen was the goal for the American Fork East Stake. To stress creativity and use a central theme, the stake leaders chose to have all recipes include carrots. Lisa Faucett explained the reaction of most of the girls to the idea. “At first, everyone was really surprised. Most said they didn’t like carrots. But after we learned to make casseroles with carrots, carrot cake, drinks made with carrot juice, carrot cookies, carrot salad, carrot muffins, and carrot pudding, we all found something we really liked.” She shook her head in amazement. “I didn’t know you could do so many things with a carrot.”
The American Fork girls used their newfound abilities in the kitchen to help others. In several Share-and-Care evenings they prepared some of their carrot masterpieces and delivered them to a homebound person in boxes or cans decorated with the carrot theme. For Chris Stephens, sharing was the best part of the learning-to-cook experience. “It was fun to take what we made to different people. We visited an older lame couple. They really appreciated our efforts.” The gift of charity had been added to the basket.