Gospel Story Finder

The story is told of an event that happened in New York when President David O. McKay returned from a trip to Europe: “Arrangements had been made for pictures to be taken, but the regular photographer was unable to go, so in desperation the United Press picked their crime photographer—a man accustomed to the toughest type of work in New York. He went to the airport, stayed there two hours, and returned later from [the] dark room with a tremendous sheaf of pictures. He was supposed to take only two. His boss immediately chided him, ‘What in the world are you wasting time and all those photographic supplies for?’
“The photographer replied very curtly, saying he would gladly pay for the extra materials, and they could even dock him for the extra time he took. … Several hours later the vice-president called him to his office, wanting to learn what happened. The crime photographer said, ‘When I was a little boy, my mother used to read to me out of the Old Testament, and all my life I have wondered what a prophet of God must really look like. Well, today I found one.’”

One month later, Nese urged me to come to Brigham Young University. I jumped at the chance and rushed to Provo for a whirlwind visit. She described her school as if it were part of her. As we walked around campus, all we talked about was religion. My mind was overflowing with questions again, as it had been in the high school library. I still didn’t see how everything fit together.
The thing that held me back was the principle of eternal progression. “It just can’t be right.” I said, “How can man, who was created by God, ever hope to be a god?”
We were standing in front of the Joseph Smith Building. Nese paused for a moment.
“Dave,” she said, “before we were ever created physically, we were created spiritually as God’s sons and daughters. A part of us, our spirit, comes directly from him as our Father.”
I finally understood! It all fell into place. My grin spread to a smile and erupted as a laugh. I couldn’t stop grinning. My mind jumped from doctrine to doctrine. “Yes, yes, it all fits!” I wanted to dance or sing or run.
There, on the steps of the Joseph Smith Building, the Spirit bore witness to me of the gospel plan. I knew in my heart I would join the Church.
I still had to read the Book of Mormon, learn to pray, and take the missionary discussions. But my life was changed from that moment on. I had found truth, purpose, and a life to fulfill. Five weeks later I was baptized.

How in the world was I going to get out of this? I was 16 years old and had my first job in the food court of a local grocery store. Pretty safe job—or so I thought—until my boss asked me to dress up as a corn dog to promote a sale we were having. A corn dog!
Next thing I knew, I was in a costume walking around the store with a basketful of candy. I couldn’t hold the basket with two hands because the corn dog suit was so huge my arms couldn’t reach around to the front. Not only that, when kids would run up to the giant corn dog to get some candy, I couldn’t look down to see how many pieces of candy they were taking. I think they caught on quickly.
I was under strict orders not to talk while in this horrible costume. So when people asked if I was a banana, I couldn’t say anything to correct them. I came up with a solution. I put a nice big sign on my front stating, “I am a corn dog!” I was already beyond humiliation. At least no one could see my face.
Around the store I walked. I’m sure the kids thought I was pretty strange—a giant, silent, walking corn dog with an empty basket. But hey, I wasn’t a banana, so it could have been worse.
Then came the cruel laughter and the jabbing kicks from behind. I turned around and saw no one.
Kick! I turned around again. No one.
Kick! Kick! I whirled around as quickly as a corn dog could manage. No one again. Now the laughter was hysterical. Kick! Kick! Kick! Why was no one coming to rescue a poor, persecuted corn dog! Couldn’t they see the kids torturing me? I was miserable. I had to get out of there! So I waddled as quickly as I could back to the food court.
It was then that I saw him. A guy I liked was standing at the counter of the food court. I could hear him asking for me. No!
Then I saw my fellow employee, a girl who I thought was my friend, point in my direction. I turned around as quickly as I could and waddled back to where I had been so rudely kicked. Somehow that seemed so much better than being approached by the guy I liked and had tried so hard to impress. I moved as quickly as I could, cutting through the aisle and making my way back to the food court from the other direction. I had to get out of this thing. Just a few more waddles and I would be there.
I struggled to pull the giant corn dog off of my body. I was so completely miserable, so completely humiliated. I couldn’t go out there again.
How long had I been in the corn dog costume? An hour? Two hours? Three? I looked at the clock. Twenty minutes! How could so much misery, so much humiliation, so much horror fit into just 20 minutes?
I saw my boss approaching me. I pleaded with her to let me be finished. Couldn’t she see how tortured I was? She informed me that if I could find a replacement then I was off the hook. Who in their right mind would actually want to do this? But it was my only hope. I had to at least ask.
I approached the girl who had previously blown my cover. I tried to act like it hadn’t been that bad. I thought if she knew what she was getting into, she’d never agree. But she did. “It’ll be fun,” she told me.
“She won’t last long,” I thought.
Three hours later, she came back smiling. I couldn’t believe it. She actually enjoyed being a corn dog. I didn’t think it was possible.
I learned something valuable that day. I learned that we can choose to be happy, or we can choose to be unhappy. We were in the same situation, and she chose to enjoy it. I could have done that too. I could have laughed along with everyone else. I could have seen the humor in the situation and had an enjoyable time. Instead I chose to be miserable.
It’s the same thing with life. Our circumstances don’t choose for us. We choose. Even in the midst of challenging school assignments, lack of friends, chronic illness, or parents divorcing, we can choose to turn to Heavenly Father and discover that we can still find peace, even joy, in this life. I learned that day that choosing to be cheerful is much more enjoyable, even for a corn dog.

When I was a young boy, we had no running water in our homes and no electricity. I can remember clearly when electricity first came to Bunkerville. I also remember my father and me taking horses and a big water wagon up to a spring in the mountains and bringing back drinking water to fill our man-made cistern. We would have to clean out the cistern before putting the fresh water into it. When we needed drinking water, we pumped it out by hand and carried it into the house in buckets.

The Wilkinsons attend Church in Wolfeboro, about 10 miles (16 km) away. Though there are a few other Latter-day Saint families in Alton, they don’t have children Rachel’s age, so her many friends are of other faiths. Friends often ask her to go out on the lake or join them for a barbecue on Sunday, but she always says no and explains why. None of them has taken offense. “It was hard saying no at first, because sometimes you really want to go,” Rachel admits. “But it’s getting easier every time.”

As a young adult juggling school, football, and dating at Brigham Young University, I often felt overwhelmed. That’s when I realized I needed to set “nonnegotiables”—priorities I would commit to no matter what.
Spending time with the Lord and focusing on Jesus Christ became one of my nonnegotiables. Every morning I have a scheduled time with the Lord where I unpack the scriptures and most recent general conference messages. This daily routine gives me small spiritual experiences and sets the tone for my day.
President Nelson said, “Now is the time for us to make our discipleship our highest priority.” Prioritizing time with the Lord doesn’t remove life’s challenges or distractions—but it does help me face them with His strength.

I can say, as Nephi said, that I was “born of goodly parents” (1 Ne. 1:1). During World War II my father was captured by the Germans when they invaded Belgium. He escaped and disappeared into the underground (an opposition group). As a young child, I remember seeing my father only once or twice. He made very short visits, then disappeared again into the underground, where he was a radio operator.
Even when the war was over, he didn’t come home right away but went to Germany with the Belgian army. Then he was assigned to another city in Belgium. Fortunately, my mother was a very strong and faithful person. When my father was away, she was the head and the strength of the family.
We were not Latter-day Saints, but I have always had faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. That has never been in doubt for me. I don’t know where my faith came from. I grew up in a typical European home. We did not go to church, and we never prayed in our home. Yet as a child, I knew. I had faith. It was a spiritual gift I could never deny.
As a teenager, I lived with my family on a hill in Namur, Belgium. We often noticed missionaries pushing their bicycles slowly uphill or riding swiftly back down. One day they came to our house. Knowing they were Americans, we were curious and invited them in. It was 1951, and I was about 16 years old.
When the missionaries started talking about religion, we four children were not too interested, but my mother listened and kept inviting them back. As they taught her, she gained a testimony of the Church. Then came the question of baptism. My mother’s parents didn’t want her to be baptized, and my father was in Germany in the army. He came back only once a month for a two- or three-day visit. My mother got his permission, however, and was baptized. But he insisted that we children wait and make our own decisions when we were older.
In the meantime, we attended church with our mother. I went mostly because I wanted to perfect my English. I participated in the youth activities. It was a very good experience because I learned how to sing, dance, and act in the theater. I became acquainted not only with the Church but with the missionaries. I was getting closer to them in age, and we became good friends. They were in our home at least two or three times a week.
When I turned 21, I attended college in Liège, a city about 65 kilometers from home. The missionaries challenged me to be baptized, and I had to make a choice. It was a matter of testimony. I had questions about the Book of Mormon. I was 95 percent converted, but I needed a spiritual confirmation. The missionaries helped me find it by teaching me to pray, praying with me, and helping me recognize the answers I received. I was soon baptized. Since that time in that small branch, I have continued to grow in the gospel.
My faith helped me when I experienced peer pressure. I was the only member of the Church in college and later in Belgium’s air force. To resist temptations, I had to turn somewhere. I could not just turn to a magazine or a book. I had to have the internal strength that comes from a testimony of Jesus Christ. Once you have faith and rely on it, you will be strengthened even more. Faith becomes your determining factor in making decisions and moving forward.
My father never did join the Church, but he was a fervent supporter of it because he could see its blessings in the lives of his wife and four children. (My sister and two brothers were also baptized.) Prior to his death, he asked me to give him a priesthood blessing, and I did. We had a very special conversation, and he confided in me for the first time that he had faith. Coming from him, this was a major step.
With age, physical challenges are starting. At the end of last year I suddenly had a serious back problem. I was unable to move or to function normally. Through a priesthood blessing and my faith in the Lord, my back got better.
I think faith is our “homework” as Latter-day Saints. When you go to school, you have a textbook, but unless you do the homework each night, you don’t progress. The scriptures are our gospel “textbook,” but we have to do our homework. Our faith needs to be practiced. Faith without works is dead (see James 2:17).
My message to you children is to listen to your parents and follow their teachings. I had a foundation in my life from the teachings of my mother and my father, who were great examples. They were not perfect and your parents may not be perfect either. But if you can separate their problems from the true principles they teach and follow by faith, you will be blessed for it. If you will turn to your parents and to the Lord, it will make a big difference.

Approximately 20 young people are enrolled in seminary, and the program is highly successful—they all have nearly perfect attendance. It’s not always easy to get up each morning, but they know the others will miss them if they don’t go.
Seminary builds not only their spiritual strength, but also their academic abilities. “Seminary stimulated me to want to achieve high grades and gave me the motivation to get it done,” says Elizabeth Parai, who shared top academic honors in the school with Jamie Rajek in 1994.

The Persian marketplace looked like a giant circus of brightly colored tents. It sounded like one too.
Jonas Hanway had come to Persia to buy wool to take back to England in his ships. But before he could begin trading with the wool merchants, a royal parade stopped everything.
“Make way for the Prince of Persia!” a courtier announced.
As the prince passed, the people bowed low as was their custom, but Jonas did not. He wanted to see everything that was happening. Four strong men were carrying the prince in a velvet-draped sedan chair. They held him on their shoulders high above the heads of the people. Over the prince’s head another servant held a strange shade to keep the sun away.
“What a wonderful idea!” exclaimed Jonas. He soon learned that the prince’s shade was called an umbrella.
How helpful it would be if everyone in Persia had an umbrella of his own, Jonas thought.
Soon Jonas had a number of umbrellas made to shield the sun’s rays from the heads of common persons. But when the prince heard about it, he ordered Jonas to come to the palace.
“You must stop making umbrellas,” commanded the prince. “I forbid it. Only princes and kings may carry an umbrella in Persia. It is a sign of royalty.”
The prince shook his finger angrily at Jonas and shouted even louder, “This is the way it has always been in Persia and this is the way it will stay. Take your umbrellas and go home!”
Jonas returned to his home in England, stored the umbrellas in his attic, and became so busy that he forgot about the prince.
Then one day as Jonas was leaving his home it began to rain. In minutes all the covered chairs and horse-drawn coaches were taken. Jonas was left wet and cold on his doorstep.
In those days riding in a covered chair called a sedan was an easy way to travel. Two or four men carried the chair between them on two long poles. When it rained everyone jumped in a sedan chair to keep dry.
All the people riding in chairs reminded Jonas of the Prince of Persia.
If an umbrella can keep the sun off the prince of Persia, maybe it will keep the rain off me! he thought.
Jonas ran to his attic and found an umbrella. Holding it over his head, he walked down the street.
“Look at that crazy man!” cried the children as he passed. Few Englishmen had ever seen an umbrella before.
Jonas carried his umbrella every time it rained. He gave umbrellas to his friends to carry too.
The chair men became angry. They tried to run over Jonas and some threw rocks at him.
But the people liked Jonas Hanway’s strange new idea. It was not long before many people in England were carrying umbrellas. And as the new idea spread to other parts of the world, the umbrella became known everywhere as man’s best friend—when it rains!

In addition to being an early witness of the Restoration, Lucy exercised faith that was undaunted by seemingly insurmountable circumstances. After the Church was organized in April 1830, persecution stagnated Church growth in New York while the number of members increased in neighboring Ohio. By winter, a revelation commanded the Church members to “go to the Ohio” and gather with the Saints there (Doctrine and Covenants 37:1).

Lucy and several dozen Saints responded to the command of the revelation and traveled by boat on the Erie Canal to Lake Erie, then crossed the lake to Ohio. When they arrived at the banks of Lake Erie, however, the water was frozen with no foreseeable passageway. Many Saints on board the boat began to complain. Lucy rebuked them, asking, “Where is your faith? Where is your confidence in God? … Suppose that all the Saints here should raise their hearts in prayer to God that the way might be opened before us, how easy it would be for Him to cause the ice to break away so that in a moment’s time we could be on our journey.”5

After testifying of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon, Lucy pleaded with the Saints to pray for the ice to be broken up so they could continue their journey. In that moment, a noise “like bursting thunder” was heard and the ice parted, leaving a narrow passage for the boat that closed no sooner than the boat had passed.6 The Saints then held a prayer meeting to thank God for His deliverance.

I have found a stable job because of the English language I learned on my mission. I was first recruited as a motorcycle delivery agent. At the end of the first day of work, some of my colleagues refused to pick up some of the goods by hand, arguing that it was not part of their responsibilities. But based on the principles of service I had learned on my mission, I set to work with one of the modestly dressed people who later turned out to be the company’s manager. Immediately after picking up the goods, he gave me a very important financial responsibility in the office.

Krista loved Stanley Park. She loved the beaches. The playgrounds. The petting zoo. The train ride.
But most of all, she loved the aquarium! It had all kinds of sea animals. She watched a brown seal swim around and around.
But then she heard something. A girl was crying! No one stopped to help her.
Krista tugged on Mom’s sleeve. “Look. That girl is crying!”
Mom looked. She held Krista’s hand and walked over to the girl.
“Hi,” Mom said. “Can we help you?”
“I can’t find my mom.” The girl sniffled.
“Come sit with us,” Mom said. “We’ll wait with you.”
Krista and Mom sat with the girl. Her name was Sarah.
“When you’re lost, the best thing to do is stay where you are,” Mom said. “Then your mom will know where to find you.”
Sarah looked so sad and scared. Krista wished she could help. She said a little prayer in her mind. Heavenly Father, please bless that Sarah’s mom will come back.
Krista tried to make Sarah feel better. She asked her questions. She told her cool facts about seals. She even gave her a pretty seashell she had found at the beach.
After a while, a woman ran up to them. It was Sarah’s mom! She gave Sarah a big hug. They both said thank you to Krista and Mom.
Krista was glad she could help someone!

I remember when one of our daughters went on a blind date. She was all dressed up and waiting for her date to arrive when the doorbell rang. In walked a man who seemed a little old, but she tried to be polite. She introduced him to me and my wife and the other children; then she put on her coat and went out the door. We watched as she got into the car, but the car didn’t move. Eventually our daughter got out of the car and, red faced, ran back into the house. The man that she thought was her blind date had actually come to pick up another of our daughters who had agreed to be a babysitter for him and his wife.
We all had a good laugh over that. In fact, we couldn’t stop laughing. Later, when our daughter’s real blind date showed up, I couldn’t come out to meet him because I was still in the kitchen laughing. Now, I realize that our daughter could have felt humiliated and embarrassed. But she laughed with us, and as a result, we still laugh about it today.

I recently resumed my university studies. When the impression came to return to school, I worried about how I could provide for my family. Two days a week I would be in the classroom, not at work. How was my family going to make it?
Again, my wife and I made this challenge a matter of prayer, and the Lord responded. I began receiving permanent contracts, which have made it easier for me to make up workdays I miss while at school.

The warm sun came through Aaron’s bedroom window. “Today is going to be a good day,” Aaron thought. “I’m going to see Grandma and Grandpa.”
Grandma and Grandpa lived just down the road, and he usually visited them after breakfast. It was the best way to start the day. Aaron jumped out of bed.
After breakfast and chores, Mom smiled and said that he could go to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. As he went, the late morning sun felt good on his back. The sand squished under his shoes. It made him laugh. “This is going to be a good day,” he said out loud.
He saw a shiny black rock with a stripe down the middle. “I bet Grandpa would like to see this.” Aaron slipped the rock into his pocket.
He checked the pine tree just outside Grandma’s back door. The robin was sitting on her nest. “I think she has eggs.” Aaron climbed the fence. Standing on tiptoes and stretching his neck as far as he could, he thought he saw something blue in the nest. “I’m going to tell Grandpa!” He slid down and ran to the kitchen door.
Grandpa thought he was right about the eggs. “Pretty soon there will be little birds,” he said. Grandma had made applesauce cookies. They were really good! Grandma and Grandpa both liked his rock.
On the way home, Aaron noticed that the lilac bush was covered with purple flowers. This was such a great day!
That night as Aaron got ready for bed, he thought about everything that had happened. He said his prayers, thanking Heavenly Father. “Thank Thee for the beautiful flowers, the warm sun, the sand, and the robin’s eggs. Thank Thee for Grandma and Grandpa. Thank Thee for this whole great day! Oh, and Heavenly Father, I love Thee.”
As Aaron climbed into bed, he remembered something his Primary teacher had said. When we feel love for Heavenly Father, that feeling is called reverence. Aaron fell asleep feeling very reverent.

A few years ago, the company for which I worked transferred me and my family to Southern California. A few weeks before we moved, Arnold, a neighbor, told me a story that I will never forget.
One Saturday afternoon he saw our three-year-old son, Lawrence, in front of his house. Lawrence was down on his hands and knees searching for something in the gravel and along the sidewalk. When Arnold came outside to get the paper, he asked Lawrence what he was looking for. Lawrence told him that he had lost a nickel. Then Arnold went back inside his house to read the newspaper.
Several hours later when he looked outside again, Lawrence was still out there. It was beginning to get dark. Lawrence had taken off his shoes so he could rub his bare feet around with the hope that he could feel the nickel that had somehow escaped his sight.
Our neighbor went outside to offer his sympathy and then suggested, “Maybe you should go home and come back tomorrow when it’s lighter.”
Lawrence picked up his shoes, came home, and told his mother and me that he had lost his nickel. Later that evening when Lawrence went to bed his mother comforted him, “Maybe you can find your nickel tomorrow.”
The next morning when Arnold went to get the Sunday newspaper, Lawrence was in his pajamas searching in the grass.
“My, but you are up early this morning,” Arnold said. “Are you still looking for your lost nickel?”
Lawrence nodded his head and kept on looking.
A short time later, Lawrence came into the house and came to our bedroom and shook his mother. “I found my nickel,” he told her, his voice full of pleasure.
Hardly being awake, his mother answered sleepily, “Fine, Lawrence, go back to bed.”
I made the same kind of suggestion to him and he went downstairs to his own room.
Not long afterward the older boys and I got up and went to priesthood meeting. When we came home, Lawrence and the rest of the family were all ready to go to Sunday School. When we walked through the front door of the chapel, we met Arnold.
“Well, Lawrence, you must have found your nickel,” he said.
“Yes, it was my tithing saves,” Lawrence replied.
Arnold said he was humbled by a three-year-old boy who had taken a great deal of time to look for a nickel—not just to have his nickel but because it belonged to the Lord.
On the day we were ready to move, Arnold and his wife came to tell us good-bye and give us a package. I’ll never forget my feeling when we unwrapped the package and found inside a framed picture of a nickel pasted on a piece of white cardboard. Underneath the coin these words were written: The Lord’s Nickel.

Even though Father was deaf, he understood his daughter Alice. She pronounced her words carefully and looked right at him so he could read her lips easily. So Father kept her with him whenever he could. When he was doing business, she helped him understand what other people said. When he was working on the farm, Alice was good company.
Alice and Father tended grapevines and peach orchards, harvested honey from beehives, and cut ice from the pond. Alice gathered eggs from their chickens. Whatever they cut or gathered or harvested, Father and Alice took one-tenth to the tithing office.
They didn’t pay their tithing with money, most of the time. If they harvested thirty bushels of peaches, three bushels went to the Church. If ten jars of honey came from the beehives, one jar went for tithing. It was the same with grapes and eggs and whatever else they had. Even chickens and cows sometimes went along to the tithing office in the farm wagon!
One Monday morning early in the summer, Alice and Father were mending a fence where the farm bordered the roadside. Alice heard the thudding sound of horses’ hooves on the dirt road and the rumbling of a farm wagon. She looked up and saw Brother Johnson driving with children in the back. Father looked up too.
“Good morning, Brother Ashdown!” Brother Johnson called. “My peas are ready for harvest. I’m paying the children twenty-five cents a bushel to pick them. Does Alice want to come?”
Father looked down at Alice.
“He wants me to pick peas for a quarter a bushel,” Alice repeated. “May I go?”
Father nodded. Alice climbed into Brother Johnson’s wagon. Father waved and smiled as she rode away.
Alice worked hard all day long and picked two full bushels of peas. Before she left at the end of the day, Brother Johnson dropped two shiny quarters into her hand. Fifty cents could easily buy enough candy to last a month, or ribbons in every color of the rainbow for Alice’s hair, or maybe even a toy! She ran all the way home and bounded into the kitchen where the family was just sitting down around the table for supper.
“Look!” she said. “Fifty cents of my very own!”
“Those are good earnings for a day, Alice, for a girl your size,” Mother said. “Now please wash up before you sit down and eat.” Alice obeyed, then settled in for a plate of stew, new potatoes, and sweet green peas from the family’s garden.
“I’m pleased you’re a hard worker, Alice,” Father said from across the table. “Do you want to pay your tithing on that money?”
Alice nodded yes.
“You’ll owe five cents tithing then. Should I give you change?”
Alice looked at the two coins next to her plate. Five cents less and she wouldn’t have two quarters anymore—only one quarter and two dimes. Five cents suddenly seemed like a lot of money.
“Maybe you’ll make some more money in a day or two,” Father said. “I believe Doctor Stringham has a field of peas that needs picking.”
“Think about it overnight, Alice,” Mother suggested. “You need to decide if you want to pay tithing.”
Lying in bed that night, Alice tossed and turned. She wanted to do the right thing. But it seemed so hard to let go of five whole cents. She thought about her last trip to the tithing office with Father. On their way home, Alice and Father had met a man Father knew, Mr. Singer, who wasn’t a member of the Church.
“Alice, ask your father for me where he’s been today,” Mr. Singer instructed. Alice did.
“We’ve been down to the tithing office,” Father said.
“Well, William,” Mr. Singer said, “you’re surely devoted to that Church. I’m always amazed to see you going by my place on your way to meeting every Sunday. Especially when you can’t even hear what’s being said.”
Alice gulped and repeated Mr. Singer’s words slowly to Father. She worried that his feelings would be hurt, but she knew it was important to let him know exactly what was being said.
Father straightened his back and looked hard at Mr. Singer. “Well, I do sometimes understand what’s said, but even if I don’t, I get the spirit of the meeting by being there. And I teach my children that we’re a Latter-day Saint family that goes to our meetings every Sunday. Same with taking Alice down to the tithing office. You have to teach children by example.”
Mr. Singer nodded. “You’re a good man, William Ashdown,” he said. “You take care now!”
As Alice lay in bed and remembered what Father had told Mr. Singer, she thought about all the other times she’d gone to the tithing office with Father. She always felt warm inside when she heard him say, “That’s a full tithe.” She knew it was one way he showed how much he believed in the gospel. She remembered Mother telling her that if they paid tithing, the Lord would open the windows of heaven and send down more blessings than they had room to receive. She thought about how the grapes and peaches and eggs all went to help people who needed food. And she knew her own five cents would help someone too.
Alice crept out of bed quietly and made her way downstairs where Father and Mother were sitting.
“Father, I want to pay my tithing. Will you figure the change for me?” Alice asked.
“I certainly will, Alice,” Father said.
Alice traded Father one quarter for two dimes and a nickel. She put the nickel in the pocket of her pinafore that she would wear on Sunday so she could give it to the bishop. But before then, she picked peas for Doctor Stringham. Alice earned forty-five more cents to keep—and another nickel for her tithing!

“Sometimes I get cold and grouchy early in the morning,” Amy said. “But then I remember my first flight. We went over to the West Mesa where it’s flat and there aren’t any power lines or roads to worry about. It’s a good place to learn. There was snow on the ground. We came down and skimmed the bushes and saw some jackrabbits, then went back up again. Every time we go it’s fun like that. I want to be a balloonist for a long time.”

Two years after his baptism, Patrick was attending a young single adult ward in London when he met Jennifer Hulme, a Brigham Young University student from Saratoga, California. Jennifer had come to London for six months to study art history and English literature. The youngest of eight children, she had been raised in the Church.
Almost immediately, Patrick caught her eye.
“As I watched him interact with people in the ward, I saw the way he treated them,” Jennifer says of Patrick. “Whether it was a new member, a returning member, someone who was having struggles, or someone who was a close friend, he treated everyone with the same kind of genuine love and interest. That quality first and foremost drew me to him. It is a quality I have seen him develop, and that God has put to good use, over the 33 years we have been married.”
Elder and Sister Kearon’s love and respect for each other allows them to work united in faith.
After their courtship, the couple married in the Oakland California Temple in January 1991. They then raised their family in England for 19 years until Elder Kearon was called in 2010 as a General Authority Seventy after serving in several leadership callings, including as a stake president and Area Seventy. He was serving as Senior President of the Seventy when he was called to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
Elder Kearon says his wife is a faithful disciple who knows her true identity. “She lives a happy, positive, constructive, helpful, joyful life, with the Savior at the center of it all. She has been a source of strength and an enormous blessing to me since the moment we met.”
Susannah, the second of the couple’s three daughters, says her mother loves to give of herself: “She is full of life and light and has a passion for the gospel.” And like her father, her mother is an “excellent listener.”
Susannah and her sisters say their parents’ love and respect for each other allows them to work united in faith toward common goals. They listen to one another and respect and appreciate each other’s thoughts and opinions.
Emma, the couple’s youngest daughter, says her parents’ harmonious relationship and overt love for their children “has made for a very happy and secure home environment.”
Lizzie Kearon Staheli, the oldest, says of her father: “Dad sees people with Christlike eyes. He is always anxious to encourage and empower people. He sees the potential in everyone, whatever their circumstances.”
Emma adds: “He is full of faith and loves the joy the gospel brings him. Having found the restored gospel as an adult, he appreciates the difference it makes in one’s life as a source of light and joy.”
Elder Kearon calls his daughters—Lizzie (pictured with husband, Jonathan), Susannah, and Emma—“the most beautiful light in our lives, our greatest treasures.”
Jean B. Bingham, former Relief Society General President, describes Elder Kearon as calm under pressure. She recalls a time when she, Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Elder Kearon, and others found themselves stranded abroad during a political uprising. Under Elder Bednar’s direction, Elder Kearon spent hours on a satellite phone working with local officials and Church representatives to create a path for their removal.
“His calm nature, focused efforts, and inspired insights produced a solution that allowed for our safe departure,” says Sister Bingham.
In December 2021, the family was shocked to learn that Sister Kearon had been diagnosed with breast cancer.
“I never thought cancer was going to hit me or us,” says Sister Kearon. She called the ensuing treatment extremely difficult, but the Savior was her source of strength through it all. “I’m still on oral chemotherapy, but I’m grateful to say that I’m cancer free as far as doctors can tell.”
Elder Kearon says: “Jen has been steadfast and impeccably faithful through it all. We give thanks every day for her health, and we give thanks for the exceptional care she’s been given.”
As with other trials she and her husband have experienced, Sister Kearon says, “Life serves us things we simply don’t want to do. We don’t like them. We didn’t ask for them. But we have to face them anyway. The best way to deal with things that are just plain hard is to turn to the Lord and ask for His strength, putting our faith in Jesus Christ and in His grace and power. A long time ago, I learned a lot about how the Savior succors us at our deepest, darkest times.”
Elder and Sister Kearon acquired that sacred knowledge after the birth of their first child, Sean.
During Sister Kearon’s first pregnancy, the couple learned early on from ultrasound scans that their baby boy had “a difficult heart anomaly, a life-threatening condition,” says Elder Kearon. “We spent the rest of the pregnancy tracking down the best doctors, cardiologists, and cardiac surgeons equipped to address his particular problem. We found a world-class team in London, and they were confident they could fix the problem.”
Surgeons operated on Sean when he was 19 days old. The surgery was long and painstaking. Afterward, says Elder Kearon, “Sean’s little heart could not restart. So, we lost him. His death was exquisitely painful. This was not the result we had fasted for, prayed for, and pled for, but we knew that heaven’s hand was in that experience.”
Sister Kearon says, “God led us through those months of pregnancy and the beautiful, brief life of our son in a way that, at the end of it, we knew we had done everything we could for him. That was a tremendous comfort.”
Healing came from an increased understanding of the Savior’s Atonement and Resurrection that Sister Kearon gained from an in-depth study of 1 Nephi and 2 Nephi. “In the grief of our loss, I felt like I was spinning in a black hole,” she says. “And yet, time after time, that free fall was arrested by the rock of the Atonement of Jesus Christ—because it is true. His grace, His living reality, make even the most painful losses bearable and hopeful.”
Healing came from the birth of the couple’s three daughters. “They brought healing with them,” Elder Kearon says. “They are the most beautiful light in our lives, our greatest treasures.”
Healing came from the words of inspired Church leaders, including a general conference talk by Elder Lance B. Wickman, in which Elder Wickman shared the pain of pacing deserted hospital corridors as his own little boy lay dying of a childhood disease. “Elder Wickman teaches that ‘believing is seeing’ and that faith is trust in the Lord,” says Elder Kearon. “His talk was enormously valuable to me because of his clear understanding of such an experience. This was magnified by the number of times I read it and listened to it.”
And healing came from ministering to others in their loss—be they refugees in Europe, the abused or oppressed, or fellow Church leaders like Elder Paul V. Johnson of the Presidency of the Seventy, who had lost a daughter to cancer two months before joining Elder Kearon in the Europe Area Presidency in 2015.
“He and Sister Kearon were wonderful in helping us in that grieving and healing time,” Elder Johnson says. “They were so sensitive to our situation. I’ve always loved them for that.”
Such is the way of discipleship. We bear one another’s burdens. We mourn with those who mourn. We comfort those in need of comfort. And we stand as witnesses of God—and the eternal promise of joyful reunions made possible through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. (See Mosiah 18:8–9.)
Elder Kearon greets members in the Europe East Area.
Then, when trying times come to us, that healing love and ministering balm are reciprocated. As an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ, Elder Kearon is prepared to share with all the world that gospel message of hope, healing, and peace.
As an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ, Elder Kearon is prepared to share with all the world the gospel message of hope, healing, and peace.
“Why do difficult trials happen to us?” Elder Kearon asks. “Because we come to earth to learn, to grow, to be sanctified, and to love and trust our Father in Heaven and our Savior. For now, we can’t see Them, and They can’t hold us. But the blessings of the Savior’s Atonement are infinite—infinite!”

I began investigating the Church as a teenager, but I stopped attending the Sunday meetings because I felt excluded by many of the youth. Some time later, one of those youth invited me to a Church activity. I accepted and liked the activities because they were things I enjoy doing: acting, playing basketball, and running.
As I continued to attend activities, I got to know the youth and realized that many of them went to my school. With time I was able to develop friendships with young men and young women who had the same standards that I live by. I am grateful that someone invited me to a Church activity, and I am grateful that I accepted.