Gospel Story Finder

It was too late to stop. As I crashed into the car in front of me, the splinter of glass and crumple of metal dimly registered, an echo of my own shattered breathing.
I started to cry, and my brother Rob said, “It’ll be okay, Alanna. Everything will be all right.” But everything was not all right. I had caused a four-car accident.
Minutes later, a policeman told me no one was seriously hurt. Fortunately, everyone involved was wearing seatbelts. A paramedic treated me for minor cuts, and after I complained of a sharp pain in my neck, I was put on a stretcher.
On the ride to the hospital, a paramedic said, “Alanna, you’re a very lucky girl.”
Lucky? I was strapped in a stretcher with my neck immobilized in a brace. I had totaled my dad’s car, and was responsible for the damage to three other cars. How could he say I was lucky?
“The only reason you’re still alive is because you were wearing your seatbelt,” he added.
For as long as I can remember, my parents stressed the importance of wearing seatbelts. Because of my parents’ example, I wore my seatbelt without fail. This one small act may have literally saved my life.

I was getting mad! Another spit wad had hit the back of my neck. I tried to ignore it and just get the last question done because it was almost time for Jennifer and me to go to student council meeting.
Then Jennifer got hit by another spit wad. She spun around in her seat and barked, “Knock it off, Todd! I know it’s you, so don’t try to act innocent!”
“You and Rebecca are the ones who always try to act innocent,” Todd retorted. “Teacher’s pets!”
“Just because we do all the assignments doesn’t make us teacher’s pets,” I shot back. “Besides, Mrs. Groves is a good teacher. You shouldn’t cause so many problems for her.”
Actually, it wasn’t just Todd who was causing problems. The whole class was noisy and playing around. Usually everyone was pretty good, but now that there were only four days of school left before summer vacation, some of the kids were getting pretty wild, especially Todd, Ryan, and Mike.
Suddenly Ryan chased Mike across the front of the room, and they knocked some papers off Mrs. Groves’s desk. They didn’t stop to pick up the papers, so I did.
“You guys, settle down!” I said. “Mrs. Groves is going to be back any minute, and she’s not going to like what’s going on!”
Nobody seemed to listen.
“Hey, Rebecca,” Todd called, “get that garbage can while you’re up there. You and Jennifer have to clean up all those little pieces of paper by your desks. You two are real litterbugs.” He pointed to the spit wads scattered on the floor and laughed and laughed.
“It’s not funny, Todd,” Jennifer said.
“Can’t everyone just please be quiet?” I pleaded.
Then Ryan started chasing Mike again, and Mike tripped over Chuck’s foot and fell against the bookcase that the aquarium was on. I watched helplessly as the bookcase tipped over and the aquarium crashed to the floor. Broken glass, water, fish, seaweed, rocks, and sand went all over the floor, and all the books from the bookcase were getting soaked.
“Quick!” Todd yelled. “Somebody get some cups of water so that we can save the fish!”
Just then the door opened, and Mrs. Groves walked in.
Up until that day, Mrs. Groves had been my favorite teacher. She was smart, and she made learning fun. She would show us several different ways to learn things and patiently wait while we did. But that day she just stood there for a minute, looking appalled. She told Todd to take the flowers out of the vase on her desk and put the fish in the vase. She told me to go find the custodian and ask him to come to our room right away. Then she marched the rest of the class to the library.
Mrs. Groves told us how disappointed she was that we couldn’t behave without supervision. She lectured us for twenty-two minutes about growing up, about responsibility, and about good fun and harmful fun. She said that she was sorry that any innocent students had to suffer with the guilty, but since she had no way of determining who the guilty were, everyone in the class lost all privileges for the rest of the year, and the class party was canceled. Then Mrs. Groves had us sit in silence and think about what we had done wrong and about how we should have been acting.
Jennifer leaned over to me and whispered, “It’s not fair! We tried to stop them.”
Mrs. Groves heard the whispering and was over by us in an instant. “When I said ‘total silence,’ that’s what I meant, young ladies!”
So we just sat there until the custodian came and told Mrs. Groves that our room was ready.
We marched through the halls like we were going to a funeral, and as we passed the other classrooms, the kids looked out at us and giggled. They already knew what had happened.
Jennifer pulled me out of the line and up to where Mrs. Groves was leading the class. “You ask her,” Jennifer whispered into my ear.
I didn’t want to ask her, but Jennifer pushed me in front. “Mrs. Groves,” I said, “Jennifer and I have to go to student council meeting now. May we please be excused?”
It was the last student council meeting of the year. We had work to do to get ready for the awards assembly. After that we were going to have a swimming party and a barbecue.
“I’m sorry, girls,” she said, “but as I explained before, I can’t make any exceptions. You two are part of this class, and this class has lost all privileges, including participation in student council.”
“But can’t we do extra work?” I pleaded. “Or help you before or after school tomorrow?”
“The answer has to be no! Now please get back into line.”
I was really angry then. I had tried to get the others to quit fooling around. Besides, I’d worked hard on student council, and I thought that I deserved to go to the party.
The classroom was clean and neat when we returned. But the bookcase was empty, and there was a strong odor of pine cleaner. We sat silently working on a writing assignment: “How Students Earn Privileges.”
Mr. Burton, the student council adviser, came into the room and talked to Mrs. Groves. We couldn’t hear what they said, but when he looked at Jennifer and me, we knew that he was talking about us. Jennifer smiled at me and crossed her fingers for good luck. We were sure that he’d get us out of class. But he didn’t. We stayed and worked and watched the clock.
Mrs. Groves kept the class after school for twenty minutes. When she finally dismissed us, she called Jennifer and me up to her desk. She said that Mr. Burton had left an envelope for us to pick up at the front office. I knew what was in the envelope: the ballots Jennifer and I would have counted at the student council meeting!
At the end of every school year there is an awards assembly for students who have done well in sports, music, art, science, and other subjects. There is also a Teacher-of-the-Year Award for the teacher who had done the most for the students and the school that year. The teacher winning the award has his or her name inscribed on a plaque displayed by the front office. Two teachers are nominated by the PTA; then the students, teachers, and parents vote on them.
This year the PTA nominated Miss Eaton, who is young and pretty and always happy—and Mrs. Groves!
When Jennifer and I opened the envelope and counted the votes, Miss Eaton and Mrs. Groves had the same number of votes. We counted them again to make sure that we hadn’t made a mistake, but we hadn’t. Jennifer said that our job was to come up with a winner, and since it was a tie, it was up to us to choose one of them. We grinned at each other conspiratorially. She wrote a name on a card and sealed it up in the small envelope provided for it. I didn’t see what she’d written, but I knew which name she had put down.
The next day at the awards assembly, I got an award for perfect attendance, with a sticker on it for never being tardy. Todd got an award for physical fitness. When Mr. Burton got up to announce the Teacher-of-the-Year Award, Jennifer poked me. We tried not to grin at each other, but it was hard—till we heard Mr. Burton say, “Rather than announcing the winner myself, I’d like to have one of the student council members do that. Rebecca, would you please come up?”
I sat there stunned until Jennifer pushed me. Then I found myself walking up to Mr. Burton. He handed me a small envelope—the same envelope that we had given to him earlier.
I took it and walked up to the microphone. Everyone was looking at me. Miss Eaton was smiling. I didn’t look at Mrs. Groves, but I knew that the award was very important to her and that she had worked very hard to deserve it. I wondered if she would feel as bad as Jennifer and I had felt the day before, when we had been punished for something we hadn’t done and when we had had to miss the student council party.
I looked into the envelope. Jennifer had written the name I thought she had—all I had to do was read that name! It seemed like justice.
Justice! The word started my thoughts in another direction: If I announce what’s written on the card, I’ll be the one who’s unfair. Mrs. Groves had won also, and after all, she had only done what she thought was right. Most of the kids did deserve to be punished …
I took the card out of the envelope and pretended to read it to the waiting audience. “There are two winners of the Teacher-of-the-Year Award this year,” I said into the microphone. “The voting ended in a tie.”
There was a gasp from the audience. Then I said, “Both Miss Eaton and Mrs. Groves will receive the award.”
Mrs. Groves looked surprised, then pleased. Miss Eaton smiled. And Jennifer squeezed my hand.
After the assembly, Mrs. Groves told Jennifer and me that she had been proud of us for speaking up when the class was misbehaving, and she said she was sorry we had missed the student council meeting because of the punishment. When she learned that we had made the awards announcement, she smiled and said that she thought we had done the right thing.
Jennifer and I still didn’t think the punishment was fair, but we had learned that sometimes doing the right thing means being fair even when you are angry.

At times the call to service extended to a member of the Relief Society is a bit unusual. Such an assignment I share with you in closing.

When I was bishop of the Sixth-Seventh Ward in Salt Lake City, back when we had a Relief Society Magazine, I noted that our record for subscriptions to that publication was low. Prayerfully my counselors and I analyzed the names of the individuals whom we could call to be magazine representative, and the inspiration dictated that Elizabeth Keachie should be given the assignment. She responded affirmatively to the call. She and her sister-in-law Helen Ivory, also a member of the ward, commenced to canvass the entire ward, house by house, street by street, and block by block. The result was phenomenal. We had more subscriptions to the Relief Society Magazine than had been recorded by all the other units of our stake combined.

I congratulated Elizabeth Keachie one Sunday evening and said to her, “Your task is done.”

She replied, “Not yet, Bishop. There are two blocks we have not yet covered.”

When she told me which blocks they were, I said, “Sister Keachie, no one lives on those blocks. That area is all industrial.”

“Just the same,” she said, “I’ll feel better if I can go and check them myself.”

Sister Keachie and Sister Ivory, on a rainy day, covered those final two blocks but discovered no homes. As they were about to discontinue their search, they noted a driveway which was strewn with mud puddles from a recent storm. It was next to a foundry. Sister Keachie gazed down the driveway perhaps 60 feet and could just make out a garage with a curtain at the window.

Deciding to investigate, the two sweet sisters walked through the mud to a point where the entire garage could be seen. Now they noticed a door, not visible from the street, which had been cut into the side of the garage. They noticed a chimney with smoke rising from it.

They knocked at the door. A man of about 65 years of age, William Ringwood, answered. They presented their story concerning the need of every home having the Relief Society Magazine. William Ringwood replied, “You’d better ask my father.” Ninety-three-year-old Charles W. Ringwood then came to the door and also listened to the message. He subscribed.

Elizabeth Keachie reported to me the presence of these two men in our ward. When I requested their membership certificates from the Membership Department at the Presiding Bishopric’s Office, I was told that the certificates had remained in the lost file of the Presiding Bishopric’s Office for many years.

On Sunday morning Elizabeth Keachie brought to our priesthood meeting Charles and William Ringwood—the first time they had been inside a chapel for a long while. Charles Ringwood, 93, was the oldest deacon I had ever met, and his son was the oldest male member holding no priesthood I had ever met.

The elder Brother Ringwood was ordained a priest and then an elder. I shall never forget his interview with respect to seeking a temple recommend. He handed me a silver dollar which he took from an old worn leather coin purse and said, “This is my fast offering.”

I replied, “Oh, Brother Ringwood, you owe no fast offering. You need it yourself.”

“I want to receive the blessings, not keep the money,” he responded.

It was my opportunity to take Charles Ringwood to the Salt Lake Temple and to attend with him the endowment session. That same evening Elizabeth Keachie served as proxy for the deceased Sister Ringwood.

At the conclusion of the ceremony, Charles Ringwood said to me, “Bishop, I told my wife just before she died 16 years ago that I would not delay in getting this work done. I am happy this has been accomplished.”

Within two months, Charles W. Ringwood passed away. At his funeral service, I noticed his family sitting on the front row of the mortuary chapel, but I also noticed two sweet ladies sitting near the rear—Elizabeth Keachie and Helen Ivory. As I gazed upon those two sweet women, I thought of the 76th section of the Doctrine and Covenants: “I, the Lord, am merciful and gracious unto those who fear me, and delight to honor those who serve me in righteousness and in truth unto the end. Great shall be their reward and eternal shall be their glory.” I testify that we can find joy in service.

My Grandma Annabelle came to live with us for 19 months until her death. She could no longer live on her own or take care of herself. My grandma was not a member of our church. She didn’t belong to any church. My mother and I decided to read stories to my grandma from the Friend magazine. Grandma would listen, and I would ask her what she learned. Then she would give me a few short responses. My grandma loved it when I read stories to her. She always wanted me to read more.
Since my grandma liked the stories so much, we thought she would like doing the hidden pictures too. We worked with her and helped her find the objects. This helped her mind stay strong. The Friend magazine is great for everyone, young and old!
Sharing the stories was also a good missionary opportunity for us. Sometimes Grandma would listen to scriptures with our family. During those 19 months, she offered to say two prayers, and they were beautiful. We all felt the Spirit.
Even though my grandma didn’t remember who we were most of the time, she loved it when I read stories to her. I think it made her feel good inside. Since I am 12 years old now and it has been a year since my grandma died, I am looking forward to being baptized for her in the temple.

I recently received a letter from a sister serving a mission in Siberia that showed how a small group of Russian sisters was engaged in this active kind of love. Sister Okelberry said:
“I am proud to report that the women of Siberia have caught the vision of the Relief Society. Sister Kappenkova, a six-month Church member, has risen to the mighty challenge of Relief Society president of this northernmost group in Russia. She, along with her counselors, understands the importance of visiting teaching and is helping these sisters serve each other and build each other—saving them from the dangers of inactivity. They are teaching each other precious gospel principles and valuable skills in leadership as mothers, wives, and women in the Church. Conditions are not easy for them. Yet they understand and have already embraced those immortal words ‘Charity Never Faileth.’ It has been an honor to watch this develop right before my eyes.
“With only one short and very precious week left of my missionary time, I know that my sisters will be left in good hands—they are all taking care of each other” (letter from Michelle Okelberry, 31 Jan. 1996).

I was with President Tanner in the city of Cardston a few weeks ago and noted a clean city; and I mentioned it time and time again as we drove through the streets, a clean city. I noticed no backyards filled with trash and other waste, and I could not help but mention to him again, “Look at the row there, this whole row of homes, and as far as you see there are gardens, corn and beans and squash.” There were little fruit trees in between, and nearly every yard, as far as we could see, every backyard was cultivated; and I am sure the good people there were living considerably out of their yard, rather than out of the store. I was pleased indeed to see that there are many of our people who have not forgotten the lessons of yesterday, and are still listening to the words of the leaders.

Some time ago a dating relationship with someone I cared a great deal about ended. Already anxious about being unmarried, I doubted whether I could find another person with whom I was as compatible.
Not long after, I was reminded of the story of Abraham being commanded to sacrifice Isaac (see Genesis 22:1–14). I realized that both of us were asked to give up someone we loved. Of course, my experience pales in comparison to Abraham’s, but I discovered that his experience taught patterns I could follow.
Knowing that—but not necessarily how—God would keep His promises, Abraham was obedient. His love for his son was great, but his response showed that he loved the Lord above all else. We are asked to demonstrate the same thing (see D&C 101:4–5), and we too have the promise of great reward upon our faithful endurance (see Matthew 24:13). When my relationship ended, it was difficult to move on. Having received the promise that I will marry, moving on seemed to be unaligned with the fulfillment of that promise. But the promise gave me hope, which helped me to try again and to show Heavenly Father that I love Him above all else.

Squeals of delight spread through the Chinyardzano Children’s Home as missionaries of the Zimbabwe Harare Mission delivered toys and books on Christmas morning. Although many of the missionaries were thousands of miles from home, none of them were homesick when they saw the huge smiles of the children, who had lost their own families to AIDS. Young missionaries entertained the children while couple missionaries held and fed tiny babies.

Michael and Logan had been best friends since nursery. They liked to compete. Michael was taller, but Logan was three weeks older. They raced to see who could run the fastest. They jumped on the trampoline to see who could jump the longest. They held their breath underwater in the neighborhood pool. Sometimes Michael won, and sometimes Logan won. Sometimes they would get angry at each other.
“I’m the tallest!” Michael would yell.
“Well, I’m the oldest!” Logan would yell back.
But they always said they were sorry and forgave each other.
When Michael and Logan were in CTR 6 class, their ward boundaries were changed. They had to go to different Primaries.
When Sunday came, Michael didn’t want to go to church. He was upset that his best friend was going to a different ward. When Mom tried to help him put on his white shirt, he ran away. He hid under the kitchen table, behind the couch, and under his bed, but Mom found him every time.
“I don’t want to go to church!” Michael said while Mom helped him put on his shirt and tie. “Logan won’t be there! I bet my class only has girls in it!”
“Michael, you know we always go to church,” Mom said. “We need to learn what Heavenly Father wants us to do so we can be like Jesus Christ. You want to be like Jesus, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Michael muttered. He wanted to choose the right so he could live with Heavenly Father someday. But he knew he wouldn’t be as happy at church without his friend.
Michael sulked during the car ride to church and all through sacrament meeting. He glared at his older sisters, who sat quietly in their seats. When the ward boundaries changed, they got to keep their friends. Michael thought about pinching them so they would be angry too, but he decided he didn’t want to get in trouble.
When Michael walked into his new Primary class, he sighed. It was full of girls. There was not one other boy in his class. The girls giggled and chatted with each other. Michael sat at the end of the row and scowled. He knew he wouldn’t make any friends today.
One of the girls leaned over to him. “Hi, I’m Stephanie,” she said. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Michael,” Michael muttered. He didn’t want to make friends with a girl. He knew no girl could be as good a friend as Logan.
“I’m having a birthday party this week,” Stephanie said. “You should come. It’s going to be a pool party.”
Michael hesitated. He loved swimming. Maybe he could be friends with a girl. “OK,” he said. “If my mom says it’s OK.”
“And I’m going to have a piñata shaped like a dinosaur,” Stephanie said.
“Dinosaurs are my favorite!” Michael was surprised. His sisters didn’t like cool things like dinosaurs. But this girl seemed all right.
Michael and Stephanie talked about dinosaurs until the lesson started.
After church, Michael ran to meet his mom. “Mom! I got invited to a birthday party, and there’s going to be swimming and a dinosaur piñata!”
“I’m glad you made a new friend,” Mom said. “What’s his name?”
“Stephanie,” Michael said. “I told you my class would be full of girls. But she’s all right. Logan is still my best friend, but I think Stephanie will be a good friend too.”

Elder Stanley Gareld Ellis knew that no one could prove the existence of God through scientific means, but at Harvard University he learned that he could prove God by testing His promises. Halfway through his freshman year, he ran out of money and secured a job to help pay his expenses. Although he doubted that he could pay tithing and still cover all of his costs, he decided to “prove” the Lord (see Malachi 3:10).
“I paid my tithing first, and a miracle happened,” said Elder Ellis, recently called from the Second Quorum of the Seventy to the First Quorum. “I made it to the next paycheck. And that happened every two weeks for the entire semester. By proving the Lord, I solidified my testimony that He is real and that He keeps His promises.”

About halfway through my last year of high school, the school counselor was calculating my credit hours. After pulling up my class schedule, she turned to me and said, “If you want to graduate from high school, you cannot take seminary during the school day.”
I was shocked. I felt like I was standing at the end of a street looking at two roads, both of which I wanted to take: graduating from high school and taking seminary. I had been looking forward to graduating for a long time. Should I drop seminary so I could get the credit needed to graduate?
I left the counselor’s office feeling upset and frustrated. When I got home I went to my room and got down on my knees. I told my Heavenly Father that I wanted to take seminary very much, but I also wanted to graduate from high school. After praying, I felt calm. I didn’t know how things were going to work out, but I knew everything would be okay.
The next day I was back in the counselor’s room looking at possible class choices. One class caught my eye—Peer Tutoring. I had talked to people who had taken this class and liked it, so I decided to enroll.
On my first day in Peer Tutoring, the teacher went over basic classroom procedures. We would be helping special-needs students do schoolwork. The teacher said some of us would be going with these students to their classes so we could help them. She began to assign us to different students that we would work with. Then she asked, “Are any of you willing to take Tony to seminary?”
“For what church?” asked one of the students.
“For the LDS Church,” she answered.
I was the only Latter-day Saint student in the room, so I was assigned to Tony. At that moment I realized that Heavenly Father had answered my prayer. For the next three months, I went to seminary with Tony and got to partake of the Spirit. I was also able to graduate from both seminary and high school.
I know my experience was not just pure luck. My Heavenly Father heard my prayer and answered it. This experience has taught me that prayer works and is a powerful tool in our lives.

Ellie bit her thumbnail nervously. Miss Fitz was going down the rows of desks and asking each student a question, one by one.
“Who is your hero?” Miss Fitz asked Jeremy.
Jeremy didn’t waste a moment answering. “My dad!” he said proudly.
Miss Fitz smiled. “And yours, Sarah?”
Her answer came just as quickly. “Abraham Lincoln.”
Ellie felt her heart thumping as Miss Fitz continued down the row of students. They had been talking about heroes all day, and now everyone was supposed to say who their hero was—in front of the entire class!
Amber and Justin said their moms were their heroes. Walter said his was his grandfather. A few other students said theirs were presidents or other famous leaders.
Only a few students were left before Miss Fitz would reach Ellie. She had to think of a hero—and fast.
Ellie looked down at her shoes, embarrassed. Coming up with a hero wasn’t the real problem. She already knew who her hero was. It was Jesus Christ. He had healed the sick, raised the dead, and paid the price for everyone’s sins. He was the greatest hero who ever lived! She was just too afraid to say it.
Ellie bit her thumbnail again at the thought of telling the whole class that Jesus Christ was her hero. What if Jeremy laughed at her? What if Sarah and Amber whispered about her at recess?
Of course she knew Jesus Christ was her hero. But that didn’t mean everyone else had to know too.
Miss Fitz stopped right in front of Ellie’s desk and smiled. “And who is your hero, Ellie?”
Ellie glanced from the row of students beside her up to Miss Fitz. “Abraham Lincoln,” she whispered.
Miss Fitz beamed. “Good!” she said as she walked to the next student in the row.
As soon as she was gone, Ellie’s shoulders dropped in relief. Thank goodness that was over. The last thing she needed was for everyone in class to know that her hero was—
“Jesus Christ,” a voice said.
Ellie’s eyes widened as she slowly looked over. There—only a little farther down the row—sat a small boy. He was skinny and shy, and he always sat at the back of the classroom. Ellie didn’t even know his name. She couldn’t remember him ever saying a single word—until now.
A few students turned to stare at the boy, but he didn’t notice them. He just looked up at Miss Fitz and spoke again. “My hero is Jesus Christ.”
Miss Fitz smiled brightly and continued down the row. But Ellie looked at the boy in amazement. She had been afraid to tell everyone about her hero, but he hadn’t. He didn’t even go to her church! But he knew how important it was to stand as an example of Jesus Christ, even when it was hard.
Ellie smiled at the boy. She wouldn’t be afraid to say who her hero was anymore. After all, she had two of them now.

Not very long ago, Georgia B. and Amber W. were just school friends. They were in the same class in their school in Mount Gambier, South Australia. At recess, they liked pretending to be fairies and playing “playground chasey.” After school, they had fun riding bikes, scrapbooking, jumping on the trampoline, and playing in the cubbyhouse with Amber’s poodle puppy, Difa.
Then something happened that made their friendship even stronger.
At a birthday party, Georgia had told Amber and her family about the Church. Then she found out that her mum and dad were planning a fireside to teach people about Heavenly Father’s plan of happiness. Perfect! Now she could invite Amber and her family.
Georgia gave Amber a flier at school, but Amber forgot to take it home. No problem! Georgia would just call Amber’s family at home to invite them. Her mother was a little worried that Georgia’s feelings would be hurt if Amber’s mum said no. “But I didn’t care!” Georgia says. “I felt that it was really important to invite them, even if they said no.”
When Amber’s mum answered the phone, Georgia told her about the fireside. Then Amber’s mum went to talk to her husband about it. When she came back to the phone, the answer was yes. “I couldn’t believe it!” Georgia says. “I was soooo excited.”
At the fireside, Georgia gave Amber and her brother, Lachlan, a book she really loves—the Book of Mormon. Georgia says, “I love Samuel the Lamanite and how he never gave up, and how Alma the Younger was bad but became good after he repented. And I love the story of Nephi and how he was so obedient to get the plates of brass.”
Amber and Lachlan immediately liked the book too and wanted to read it. Soon Amber’s mum and dad read the Book of Mormon too. They learned more about the Church from the missionaries, and then they were baptized.
Now Amber and Georgia were more than just school friends—they were Primary friends too. Primary makes Amber feel happy. “It teaches me to follow God’s commandments and to be more helpful,” she says. Georgia loves Primary because her Grandmother Petal is her teacher. Her favorite Primary song is “In the Leafy Treetops.”
December 16 was a very special day for Amber. It is the day she was baptized. She felt a little afraid of going under the water. “But I felt protected because my dad and the Holy Ghost were there,” she says.
Georgia was there to share Amber’s baptism day. Then she eagerly waited for her eighth birthday so she could be baptized too.
Recently Amber and her family moved far away from Mount Gambier to Perth, Western Australia. But Amber says she and Georgia will “definitely keep in contact.” “I know we will still be under the same moon,” Georgia says.
No matter how far apart they may be, these two girls will always be special friends.

Through this process of drawing lots, my mother acquired my grandpa’s old paint can. My grandpa had been a painter for most of his life. He painted cars mainly but would do other things, too. When I was little, I sometimes used to watch him work. I used to watch his skilled hands in awe as he slowly, yet with confidence and pride, painted our car. Grandpa loved his work. He had an attitude of perfection and always did his best. I wondered why he did his job this way, since he received the same payment regardless of how carefully he worked. I later came to realize that an inner pride made him want to do his best. From this attitude and the quality of his work, he earned a reputation as an excellent painter.

What a choice Heidi Heistø had to make! Should she become a doctor or a professional musician? Both paths were open to her. Both were wonderful ways to serve her country and her fellowmen. Both were traditions in her family. Both seemed attainable. She has the talent in both areas.
So Heidi didn’t choose. She decided to pursue both. She had completed her high school years with a fine academic standing and was accepted into three medical schools and auditioned and was accepted into music conservatory. Soon she was spending every minute either at school or studying or practicing. After two quarters of this killer pace, she was tired and confused. She felt she was not giving either school her best. When she asked friends and relatives what she should do, the answers were of little help. Some said, “Oh, if you have the possibility of going to medical school, you must do that.” Others said, “Oh, you are so talented in music. Of course, you must do that.” Heidi was very confused.
Heidi had been taught by her mother, Karin, and her grandmother how to search out the guides in her life. She had learned in church that she had an eternal friend who will always listen. She turned to Heavenly Father in prayer. She also asked for and received a blessing from her home teacher. The blessing said that she had her agency and that she should pray about her decision. As she prayed, her answer became more clear. She should devote herself to music. Her fears about not being skilled enough lessened.
She turned to her patriarchal blessing, which encourages her to develop her musical talent. She had started with the violin at age seven even though she had been begging to start much earlier. Then her instructor suggested she change to the viola because the warm, somber tones of that instrument complimented her technique and temperament. And Heidi found she preferred the beautiful tone. Now she has chosen her course and is devoting her schooling to music.

Si is not tied to his mother, but somebody, usually his mother, Anita Begieneman, always accompanies him because he has been almost totally paralyzed since March 1,1975, when he fell from a gymnastics high bar. He can only see, hear, think, mouth words, and smile.
Prior to his accident, Si had been a fairly typical Latter-day Saint teenager. Almost 17, the oldest of six children, he loved all sports; didn’t mind school too much; played the piano; and teased his brothers, his sisters, and his mother. His one big goal was to go on a mission as soon as he turned 19.
In one instant Si went from full healthy activity to total paralysis. He lost all movement. He could not breathe, speak, or eat. He was on a life-supporting respirator 24 hours a day.
Usually when people are suddenly handicapped they experience denial, anger, resentment, and even bitterness before they finally accept their condition. Si’s medical team was amazed because he did not experience anger, depression, or a sense of hopelessness and panic.
He did get pneumonia, however, and his mother called Si’s former bishop and good friend, Robert S. Patterson, to give Si a blessing. Brother Patterson said, “Your accident has a definite and important purpose. You are to become an instrument in Heavenly Father’s hand to help bring many people who do not presently believe in God to a knowledge of him. This is to be your mission. You agreed to it before you came to the earth, and if you fulfill it well, you will thank your Heavenly Father for it every day throughout eternity.”
Si’s mother also received a witness of the Lord’s love. Si remembers, “Mom asked me what I would do if I could never again walk, talk, play the piano, or participate in sports. It was something that I had thought about a lot. I said, ‘It’s okay, Mom, I did those things the best I could when I could do them, and now I’ll learn to do something else.’
“She told me that the day after my accident she had gone down to my room, sat on the bed, and cried, ‘Heavenly Father, why? Why did this happen to my son?’ In answer, thoughts flooded into her mind. She realized that it was the Holy Ghost, so she grabbed a pencil and paper off my desk and recorded what came to her: ‘This life is a training ground for godhood. How we meet the trials that come and how we let them affect our lives are very important. We must see them as instruments of growth. All things can be for our good if we but let them. This life is the time to prepare to live again with our Heavenly Father, to grow in spirit and character and strength to meet the challenges and tremendous responsibilities of the celestial kingdom. This time of Si’s life will be exciting and challenging as new experiences come to him. None of the talents he has developed will be lost. They are just temporarily set aside while he develops others.’”
As the months passed, Si learned that he did not have to live a passive life simply because he could not move. There was still much he could give. He even learned that one way of giving was to accept help from others with love and gratitude. And he has received from many, many people.
To mention a few: His mother visits his hospital room each day and spends many hours with him. Other family members also show their love and support. Doctors and nurses at the hospital provide constant care. The Primary children of his stake raised $2,000 to buy a hydraulic lift to raise his wheelchair into his van. The Edmonton Singles Ward produced a musical comedy, and his four talented stepsisters presented a musical program to raise funds for a personal computer.
Brother Bob Layton, a news reporter for a local radio station, produced a two-part documentary on Si. It is the station’s policy to never play a documentary more than once, but the listener response to the Si Peterson story was so overwhelming, that they had to repeat it many times. Eventually the soundtrack from the documentary was combined with a series of photographic slides to form a sight and sound presentation. Brother Layton has, on request, taken this presentation to firesides, schools, and community organizations many times. The letters of response, many from school children, are evidence that Si has truly been an instrument of bringing people to God. One girl wrote, “Your faith and your acceptance of your accident help me to believe too.”
Some gifts Si has received were not altogether welcome at first. One day in 1977 a young man named Duane Simpson walked into Si’s hospital room, turned off the television set, and demanded, “What are you doing with your life, Si? Why are you wasting your time watching television? There’s nothing wrong with your brain—Why aren’t you using it?”
Si was amazed. His mother was very angry. But Duane continued, “Si, I’m here to help you any way I can.” He explained that he had been assigned to Si as a tutor.
Beginning then, Si’s life changed dramatically. “I guess I needed Duane to help me change my attitude. I wasn’t doing anything because I never really thought there was anything I could do.”
Since then Si has worked toward completing his high school education. He now aims to enroll in a university and obtain a degree in social work.
How does someone in his condition study? He listens to cassette tapes and his tutor. The tutor then reads him the questions. Si gives the answers “orally”. But because Si cannot make any sounds, his tutor has to read his lips, write down the answers, and send them to the correspondence school to be graded. It is a slow, tedious way to study, but Si jokes, “I’m getting better marks than I ever did before.”
While Si has learned to receive graciously, he has also learned to give unselfishly. He has counseled with many depressed and troubled people who are struggling to face their own handicaps and difficulties, and all have gone away lifted in spirit.
His deep empathy for the feelings and problems of others has also helped him reach out and bring people into the Church or back into activity.
One of them, a nurse in the hospital where Si lives remembers, “I first heard about the Church during my 3 A.M. discussions with Si. He gave definition to many basic feelings I’d had all my life. Then he asked me if I’d be willing to listen to the missionaries, and I did. I was baptized in August 1983.”
David McTavish is another of the many whose lives Si has touched. “Coming back from inactivity, at first I felt uncomfortable with Si. But the example of his acceptance of the Church and his faith, plus my many discussions with him, have helped me to handle the obstacles between me and the Church. He has also given me a freedom not to be afraid of the kind of person I am.”
Mrs. G. Von Busse, a tall, blonde grandmother, is Si’s physiotherapist and good friend. “I have watched Si grow from a teenager to the very fine young man he is today. With Si I have a friend. Nobody really knows me at the hospital but Si. We talk about everything—my youth, music, finances, politics, my family—everything. And when I go to Germany to visit my family there, they ask, ‘How is Si?’ And when I come back, Si has my favorite record playing. He is a very good person, highly intelligent and healthy—only that he is paralyzed, that’s all.”
If you were to stop by Si’s room unannounced, you would probably find him working on his computer or with his earphones on, listening to one of his many cassette tapes: the standard works (he’s listened to them all at least four times), conference talks, recorded books, school lessons, or music ranging from the Tabernacle Choir to classics to popular.
Si’s independence was greatly increased by the electronic control unit which the Alberta Rehabilitation Council installed for him in 1978. By touching the control lever with his lower lip, he can turn on or off everything that is connected to the system. He can even call a nurse with it. Now he has a modified personal computer that can be merged with the unit and allows him, for the first time in ten years, to write his own messages. “This opens up lots of things that have been closed to me,” he says. “I can use it to work on my education. Then I’ll write a book about my life. Also, after more training, maybe I’ll compose some music.”
Undoubtably much of Si’s strength comes from the gospel. He has been an elder since November, 1977. And on June 22, 1982, he traveled more than 300 miles to the Alberta Temple to receive his endowments. Temple President Vi A. Wood, who years before had given Si his patriarchal blessing, helped him through the endowment session.
Si calmly accepts his paralysis, but it is not easy to live as he does. Aside from the obvious discomforts and limitations, he also endures the side effects of it all. For example, because he is constantly on the respirator, his blood gasses get out of balance, causing him severe hallucinations. He has had many, many near-fatal moments when his respirator has failed. He has suffered cardiac arrest, pneumonia again and again, kidney stones, stomach ulcers, and strokes. But his faith in his Heavenly Father is unshaken.
So is his sense of humor. There is usually a smile on Si’s face, and he loves a good practical joke. When his mother went to the hospital once for her daily visit, she was in for a shock. Two hospital orderlies with very serious faces were sitting near Si’s room, and his door was closed. She opened the door and went in.
Si’s room was darkened, and he was covered with a white sheet. Anita’s heart faltered. She walked over and pulled back the sheet. Si was laughing! Then the orderlies came in, and they were laughing too.
Si is an inspiration to his whole family. His youngest sister, Barbie, reflects, “I was only five years old when the accident happened, so to me having Si like this is just a part of our way of life. It’s not a burden for us. I guess it would be if Si made a big fuss about it, but he doesn’t, so neither do I. Sometimes I wish I could make him better, but then I think no, because he’s blessed so many people’s lives. I do hope that sometime he’ll be well again. He’s really a great guy.”
Si’s father, Dr. Frank Peterson, concludes, “It’s unfortunate that he’s immobilized, but everything else about this has been positive. I’m proud of him.”
Si has a firm testimony, and he bears it frequently. His mother reads his lips and then gives voice to his feelings to the accompaniment of the rhythmic hum of his respirator.
“One of the main purposes of this earth life is to be tried, to prove ourselves worthy to return to our Heavenly Father, and so trials that come to us are an important part of our lives. Every one of us will be tried in one way or another. The important thing is how we accept our trials and grow from them. They can be stumbling blocks or stepping stones.
“I am grateful for my membership in the true and living Church, and I am grateful for the priesthood that I hold. I am grateful for my family who loves and supports me, and for the many others who help me so much. I know that my Heavenly Father lives and that he hears and answers my prayers. I am grateful for my Savior, Jesus Christ, and for his sacrifice for me. I know that my accident had a special purpose in my Heavenly Father’s plan for me.
“I feel fortunate that the trial I have been given is so obvious that I receive a lot of encouragement and help from many people. Your trials may be just as difficult as mine, but perhaps not as obvious, and so I pray that you will be able to accept them and have the strength to endure and grow from them.”
This thought is typical of Si Peterson. Trapped inside the prison of his own motionless body, with every possible excuse to turn his thoughts bitterly inward, his mind reaches out to others in prayer and service. Even lying flat on his back, he is a giant. Si Peterson—a typical young Latter-day Saint and a unique human being.

In your quest to define yourselves, do not get caught up in comparisons with role models or body types that may seem to be macho or chic but in reality are not becoming to you as sons and daughters of our loving Heavenly Father. One 17-year-old girl became so obsessed about her figure that she began to skip meals and ended up with an eating disorder. When it became apparent to her father, he insisted that she eat a substantial meal. This confrontation ultimately brought her to her senses, and she wrote:
“All my life I had done things for everyone else. The grades, the manners, the awards—everything for them, nothing for me. This eating thing, this losing weight had become mine. It represented me and my choices, and now my dad was trying to take that away from me, too!
“As I lay in bed that night crying and feeling fat, I knew I needed help. I knew I was hurting people I loved.
“After staying up all night, I came to the conclusion that it wasn’t my dad I hated. I hated ME! I realized that I wasn’t in control. For the first time in my life, I understood that this was my problem. I needed to take control of my life—not let the disease control it.
“Things didn’t change overnight. In fact, it was one long road to recovery. But slowly, with the help of friends and family, I began to heal. Now that I’m at my ideal weight, I have stopped weighing myself altogether. I no longer peruse fashion magazines, either—I may not be ‘in style,’ but I feel just right!”

In the spring of 1866, during what is called the Black Hawk War, our pioneers were struggling to beat back deadly Indian attacks on many settlements in southern Utah. Two of President Heber C. Kimball’s sons were called into military service for a three-month expedition against the Indians. Before they left he gave them a priesthood blessing. Apparently concerned that his sons might shed the blood of their Lamanite brothers, he first counseled them about the great promises God has made to this branch of the house of Israel. He then blessed his sons and promised them they would not see a single Indian on their campaign. His sons, full of fight and eager to smell gunpowder, were disappointed at this promise, but the blessing was fulfilled. When they returned three months later, they reported:
“We … rode hundreds of miles, following the tracks of different bands of hostile Indians, and were close upon them a great many times. They were attacking settlements all around us, killing the settlers and driving off stock.” But the company did not see a single Indian (Orson F. Whitney, Life of Heber C. Kimball, an Apostle, 2d ed., Salt Lake City: Stevens and Wallis, 1945, p. 429).

In Cali, Colombia, a few days ago, the mission president visited one of our Church meetings. At the start of the meeting a seven-year-old boy came up on the stand and sat next to him. He was not on the program; he just wanted to be there. When the meeting was nearly over he strode to the pulpit and bore his testimony.

When he finished, he went back and sat next to the president. The two exchanged glances. The mission president smiled approval. The young boy smiled back. In those dark eyes was a message of love and security. Here was someone who knew he belonged.

Later it was learned the boy had spent his earlier life as an orphan. A couple in the ward had taken him in and were raising him as their own. The whole ward was his home, and he was blossoming in this atmosphere of acceptance.

“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” (Matt. 25:40.)

Your teacher assigns you to write a paper, due in two weeks, on a book your class just read. What do you do?
Option 2
Day 1—Get the assignment, go home, and think, “I’ve got plenty of time.”
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13—Late in the evening, remember your assignment. Quickly try to form a mental summary of the book (which you don’t really remember very well). Skim through a few pages of the book to see if something jumps out at you. Look up facts and quotes. Write a few half-remembered ideas from class discussions. Stare at your document, with no clue how to connect all the material. Write more. Constantly check to see if the document meets the required length. Momentarily consider changing the font size and line spacing. Repeatedly cast your bleary eyes toward the clock and put your face in your hands, feeling stressed. Type a hasty conclusion. Print out the paper. (150 minutes)
Go to bed late.
Day 14—Go to class and briefly consider asking for more time. Then nervously hand in your paper.
Later—Get your paper back and see that you got the grade you deserved. Even worse, you didn’t learn anything—except the consequences of procrastination.