Gospel Story Finder

Humor, used with sensitivity, can unite spouses. While I was serving as bishop of a singles ward, an engaged couple asked me if they could have their wedding reception at our house.

I quickly replied, “Of course you can.”

I forgot to tell my wife. When she received their wedding invitation a few days before the big event, she happened to notice the address of the reception. When I got home from work she asked me if I had forgotten to tell her something important.

After considerable thought I said, “No, not that I can think of.”

“Are we having a wedding reception at our house?” she asked.

From the expression on her face, I could tell I was in trouble.

“Oooooh, you mean that reception,” I replied.

This is when you hope your wife has a good sense of humor. I quickly helped her prepare our home for the wedding reception—under her able direction, of course.

Here’s a personal story of how to be civil when there’s extreme opposing views. A few short years ago when Hawaii was debating whether Same Sex Marriage should be legalized, many of us from Laie all went to the state capitol to testify, rally and do whatever we could to convince law makers to kill the bill. As you can imagine, there were huge crowds on both sides who were very passionate about their position but do you know what helped us to maintain our civility? Standing among the opposition holding their rainbow colored flags and chanting “Yes to Same Sex Marriage” were some of our very own friends and family members from this community. We loved them. They loved us so why would we want to be uncivil towards each other and let this matter divide us permanently? At the end of each day, or during our breaks, we would get together and take photos with our opposing signs and laugh about it because we knew we would be seeing each other back in Laie, Kahuku and Hauula. We didn’t agree with each other but that didn’t mean we had to be enemies. At the end of the day, it’s nice to be able to look each other in the eye and know we’re still friends.

“My name is Omar Interdonato,” the e-mail began. “I’m the son of Fiorella Italia. I hope you still remember her baptism.”
The mother, along with her oldest son and two teenage daughters, their grandmother, and their friend were eventually baptized. Following my mission, I kept in touch with the family, but until I received the e-mail, I had wondered what had happened to Fiorella, the daughters’ young friend.
“My mother has been faithful to the gospel all her life and in 1983 married a good Church member from the Messina Branch and got sealed in the temple,” her son wrote. “I was born in 1984 and my sister, Veronica, in 1987. We are all active in the Church. I served a mission in the Italy Rome Mission from 2005 to 2007, hoping to repay the Lord for all the struggles of two missionaries who decided to preach the gospel in the small town of Floridia!”
There were times during my mission when I wondered if the two years of sacrifice were worth it. But how great is my joy (see D&C 18:15–16) to learn that Fiorella’s life was changed forever because my companion and I made the decision to go forth and forget ourselves in the service of others on the island of Sicily.

A pregnant woman living in one of the villages neighbouring our small family farm passed through on foot one Saturday morning on her way to the community clinic where she was due to give birth. As her labour pains increased, she found herself without any help or assistance in an unoccupied portion of our farm. This would have been a very difficult moment for any woman in that condition.
My wife, Vianney, being prompted to head to that side of the farm for some reason, found the woman giving birth without any help. Upon seeing this, my wife took responsibility to help this woman until she completely delivered the baby. Then she wrapped her arms around her.
During childbirth, this woman had sustained an injury, which led to a massive loss of blood. She could not be treated in a small health centre like the one near our farm in the Kikanda Sector. She was losing her strength, which meant that her life was in real danger.
It was at this moment that my wife came to request my assistance. She asked me to drive her and this woman very quickly to the big health centre where this woman would be properly taken care of—in hopes of saving the life of both mother and baby.
We drove quickly but carefully, delivering the woman and her new baby to the clinic. The worst was averted. Vianney covered all the medical expenses and even bought a layette for the baby, since nothing else was ready.
This opportunity to serve, where we helped a stranger, is so similar to the teachings of the Saviour found in Luke 10:30–36, in answer to the question, “And who is my neighbour?” In response to that question, the Saviour taught the principles of unselfish service in a story we now refer to as the parable of the good Samaritan.

Kristin Campbell of Salt Lake City had no idea she was preparing herself for a lifetime of service when she decided to take a sign language class for her Laurel project. She just wanted to learn for her own enjoyment. But as she practiced with deaf students she began to feel a change of heart.

“For some deaf people, our hearing world is like a different planet where no one speaks their language,” Kristin says. “Working with them, my heart changed from selfishness to really wanting to be able to communicate with others.”

“When I said hi to a deaf student in the hall through sign language for the first time, he got really excited! He started signing fast!” says Kristin. “The look on Bryan’s face was worth any sacrifice. I could tell it helped his self-esteem to know that a hearing person would care enough to learn how to communicate with him.”

Kristin had previously been afraid of Bryan because he attended special classes and sat with an interpreter at lunch. But once she learned how to communicate with him, they developed a unique friendship.

They talked about classes and school. “It’s really hard to communicate names so I never did get his last name,” said Kristin. “We did have Jesus in common, though.”

Gabe King, 15, of Jeffersonville, Indiana, wasn’t exactly looking for a service project. But when he found out about his neighbor’s misfortune, he couldn’t help but act.

While working in his orchard, the neighbor fell out of a tree. He was hurt badly enough that picking the apples himself was impossible. If the apples weren’t picked, he wouldn’t be able to make a living. Gabe organized a group of about ten young women and men to join him in an apple-picking party. They chose a cool day in October and picked all day long to bring in the man’s crop.

“He was very grateful and really happy,” Gabe explains. “He would have lost a lot of money had we not picked his apples. It was a great feeling to know how much it meant to him.”

If you saw Deborah Freeman of Silver Spring, Maryland, your first reaction might be to try to help her. Deborah is orthopedically disabled, and her mobility is limited to a motorized cart. But with a little help, Deborah joins right in to serve others.

For a youth conference service project, Deborah’s stake picked strawberries on the Church-owned Johnson Farm near Kirtland, Ohio. As everyone disappeared into the fields for the all-day project, Deborah was right there with everyone until dirt paths grew too rough and her cart began to stick in the mud.

Fortunately, Ben Tibbets, a high school senior, and Aaron Hill, the youth chairman of the conference, saw the problem and immediately began figuring out ways they could help.

“We surprised her by pushing and lifting her motorized cart through the rough spots so she could help too,” says Ben.

“They put the bucket in my basket and threw the strawberries in it,” says Deborah. “They kept joking around. It was fun!”

Deborah wasn’t the only happy one either. “Service is one of the most fun things we have to do,” says Aaron. “It’s something you can actually do to show love for others and a love for Christ.”

Nathan Skene of Salt Lake City didn’t always know how happy service could make him. The summer after graduation from high school, Nathan really didn’t want to go to youth conference. He would be the oldest there. All his friends were gone, and it didn’t look like it was going to be that much fun. But he went anyway.

The theme for the youth conference was MASH—Modern Army Serving Heaven. His “platoon” was chosen to spend time with a group of mentally handicapped students. The students chose a partner; then each pair took a walk together.

“Terry chose me,” Nathan explains. “Being close to him and seeing what kind of spirit he had opened my eyes to how much I love people and how much I enjoy serving others.”

Nathan’s bad attitude dissolved. And now he sees things a little differently. “My most important goal is to gain a Christlike love for everyone,” he says.

So even though there are hungry children in the world today and homeless people on the streets, don’t get discouraged about helping. Just decide what you can do—and then act. You can make a difference. And even better than that, “when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God” (Mosiah 2:17).

When 14-year-old Ken Welty of Centerville, Utah, learned that people in Africa needed food desperately, he decided to raise money for seeds to send to Africa.

First, Ken handed out fliers explaining what he was doing and which seeds needed to be purchased. After checking with seed companies about growing requirements, Ken assembled and sent seed packets for tomatoes, cucumbers, green beans, corn, and other foods to contacts in Mali and Botswana.

The project was a real eye-opener for Ken. “My mom and dad have jobs, and they bring home the food for us to eat,” Ken explains. “It was weird to think that there are people over in Africa who are a lot older than me, but because of my service project I am helping them feed themselves.”

For some kids one night a week of Mutual is enough, but not for Claudine Miller of Sandy, Utah. Besides going to her own Mutual night on Wednesday, Claudine also volunteered to help with her region’s handicapped Mutual every Thursday night.

One of Claudine’s most memorable times with the girls was on “Cinderella Night,” she says. The Mutual girls dressed up in fancy dresses and learned how to put on makeup and fingernail polish. “It really helped them feel pretty,” says Claudine.

Another great experience came when Claudine helped the handicapped Mutual do baptisms for the dead in the Jordan River Temple. “It was really neat,” she said. “The Spirit was so strong!”

Her service project ended up lasting two years, but the time flew by for Claudine. “It made my testimony grow so much to feel their spirit and hear them say thank you and express their love for me,” she says. “When I serve I feel like I’m doing it for Christ, and it makes me feel really good.”

Shannon Welty of Centerville, Utah, is saving the lives of African children—with puppets.

“When little children get sick with diarrhea and vomiting, the parents don’t know it’s dangerous to restrict water,” Shannon explains. “Because their children are discharging liquid they think they have had too much moisture, so they stop giving them food and water. The children end up dying from dehydration.”

Instead of waiting for some international committee to help, Shannon organized a service project to teach African villagers how to treat sick children. She persuaded people in her hometown to donate materials, enlisted elementary school students as volunteers, and spent many hours preparing 13 puppet kits.

The puppets will be used to tell a story about a little boy who is sick with dehydration and how to treat him. Contacts in Mali, Botswana, Zimbabwe, and Burkina Faso will receive and translate the kits.

“I couldn’t have imagined I’d be saving lives by making puppets,” Shannon says. “People were asking how I felt saving someone’s life and that’s when it hit me. Service is really Christlike because he saved everyone.”

When I spoke on this subject once before, I received a number of letters. I get letters all the time. I read from one that I had on that occasion:
“For more than 20 years I have endured a lack of sensitivity of members of the Church with respect to my single state. As I have pursued my profession, I have moved to various areas of the country. In seeking participation in local Church activities, I have encountered a variety of levels of welcome and acceptance, ranging from a warm, friendly welcome to a very cool indifference and an air of discomfort that seems to stem from their lack of knowing what to do with me. In one ward I felt strongly that the members would prefer that I not attend. This continued for nearly six months, and I finally sensed a passive acceptance, as though I were a nuisance that wouldn’t go away, and so must be tolerated.”
If that be the case, it is a tragedy. It represents a betrayal of the spirit that should be found in all of our congregations. Men and women such as you have great talents and can add immeasurably to the quality of the teaching and leadership in almost any ward in the Church. It is a general Church responsibility to remind bishops and other Church officers to give each member a warm welcome and to make use of his or her talents.
For when all is said and done, we should not be classified as married or single but as members of the Church, each worthy of the same attention, the same care, the same opportunities to be of service.

I plead that we will not procrastinate and that we will heed our Lord’s commandment to live the law of the tithe. I know of two missionaries who visited a very poor family. The family’s home was made of pressboard and sticks, with a dirt floor and no electricity or beds. Each evening the father, a farm laborer, spent his entire day’s wages on groceries for dinner. Departing from the family’s humble home, the senior companion thought to himself, “The law of tithing will surely be a stumbling block to this family. Perhaps we shouldn’t bring it up for a while.” A few moments later, the junior companion, who had grown up in similar circumstances in his own country, voiced his own thoughts aloud: “I know the principle of tithing isn’t taught for four more discussions, but can we please teach it the next time we visit? They need to know about tithing now because they need the help and the blessing of the Lord so much.” This missionary understood that “there is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated—And when we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated.” The Lord wants to bless this family and anxiously awaits their obedience so He can.

A true story from Austria.
Are you excited for school to start?
Yeah, but I’m worried about math. What if I can’t do it?
It’s OK to be scared. School can be hard, but Heavenly Father can help you!
Would you like a priesthood blessing before you start school?
Sure!
Thanks, Dad!
What is five times seven?
Thirty-five.
Hmm …
Got it!
How was school?
Good. I was able to concentrate in math, just like Dad said in my blessing.
Heavenly Father is helping me focus. I can do math!

Marcelino Tossen believed in God, read the Bible, and enjoyed talking about religion, so when the full-time missionaries knocked on his apartment door one warm January day in 1992, he invited them in. That decision changed his life.
“Elder Zanni and Elder Halls worked under the impressions of the Spirit,” recalls Marcelino. Before that first discussion had even ended, the elders told him that he would be baptized into the Church, even telling him the exact day he would be baptized.
“I’m not going to get baptized,” Marcelino countered. “I want only to talk to you.”
The missionaries gave him a Book of Mormon and asked him to read several verses and pray that night about their message. He did so but felt nothing.
During a subsequent discussion, however, Elder Zanni asked him, “Would it be all right if we prayed so you can ask Heavenly Father if what we have been teaching you is true?”
As he prayed, Marcelino says, “my heart began to burn fervently within me. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before. I couldn’t even finish my prayer, and I arose from my knees.”
Elder Zanni asked Marcelino if he had felt anything during his prayer. When Marcelino told him no, the missionary said, “I felt the Spirit very strong. It’s strange that you didn’t feel anything.”
When he admitted what he had felt, Marcelino says, “the elders read from the Doctrine and Covenants, telling me that when the Lord wants us to know if something is right, He will send His peace or make our heart burn within us [see D&C 6:23; 9:8]. That day was a turning point for me.”
From then on, the Spirit labored with him and testified of the truth through numerous spiritual experiences. “I’d feel the burning again while I was alone in my apartment,” Marcelino says. “When I would open the window, I’d see the elders nearby on a corner teaching people about the Church. I could feel when they were close, and I began to take seriously what they were teaching me.”
Marcelino received a warm welcome when he began attending church. He was baptized a short while later on April 22—the exact day the missionaries had named three months earlier. Today, after serving nine years as president of the Ushuaia district, he serves as the second counselor in the presidency of the Buenos Aires north mission.
“When we read that the Lord will ‘send forth [His] word unto the ends of the earth’ [D&C 112:4], that’s Ushuaia,” says President Tossen. “Ushuaia is the end of the earth. But for those like me who found the gospel here, it’s the beginning of everything. Here you’ll find the lighthouse at the end of the world. But here is where I found faith and the lighthouse of the Lord.”

I guess it was about ten years ago,
but I remember it so clearly.
I was sitting in front of my mom’s
makeup mirror at the kitchen table.
Curiously, I pulled my stringy brown hair
away from my face.
A plain reflection stared back at me.
I didn’t notice
that my dad had been watching the whole time.
He grinned and said,
“Are you trying to see the face
your Heavenly Father sees?”
At the time, I couldn’t figure out how to answer
or why he even asked me that.
But now, I don’t think he really wanted an answer.
Fathers are just like that.

In a highway accident many years ago, I sustained multiple injuries, the worst of which left me in a coma for three months. Priesthood blessings, along with the support of my family, enabled me to have what one of my doctors called “a remarkable recovery.”
But my head injuries weakened my short-term memory, and I can no longer remember my dreams. Often I awake and think, “Oh, I was dreaming,” but at that moment, the dream slips from my mind forever.

Srilaksanaa “Sri” Suntarahut was born on 4 July 1924 in Bangkok, Thailand. Her father was doctor for the royal princes, and her mother was a friend of Her Majesty Queen Intharasaksaji. Sri’s family often visited the queen at the Royal Teak Palace. When Sri was six years old, the queen asked to raise her. This arrangement was made on the condition that Sri would be free to visit her family.
The queen loved Sri as if she were her own daughter. “I slept in the queen’s bedroom on a mattress in front of the queen’s bed,” says Sister Sri. “Since there were no screens on the windows, the beds were surrounded by a large silk net. Each morning I got up with the queen, dressed, ate breakfast, and read to her. After breakfast I went to a school taught by European nuns. I could speak only English while there. After school I returned to the palace, shared a meal with the queen, and again read to her. This was my routine for eight years. As a result, I developed a better education than many who have earned a degree.”
While at school, Sri would look at the English Bible. “In my heart I would say, One day I must read this book,” says Sister Sri. “But my family tradition was that we children should remain with our country’s religion.”
Sri lived with the queen until she was 17 years old. Then she went to Chulalongkorn University. Because of her excellent language skills, she became the financial secretary for a group of high-level government officials after World War II.
Sri was married and had a family when Elders Larry White and Carl Hansen met her in 1968. “I did not like the missionaries very much at first,” says Sister Sri, “but they kept coming back. I put the Book of Mormon on the shelf for three months. One night I decided to look at it, so I held it up and prayed, ‘If there is something good in here for me, let me know it.’ I opened it and read until I couldn’t read anymore. Tears came to my eyes. Then I held the book to my chest. Soon I went upstairs to my room and closed the door. It was the first time I knelt down and prayed. I cried and called out, ‘My Father, my Father.’ I knew He could hear me. I prayed and cried for a long time. When I got up, I began to read again without stopping.” Sri and two of her children were baptized on 4 July 1968, her 44th birthday.
The education Sri received while living with the queen enabled her not only to read the Book of Mormon in English, but also to play a key part in the translation of the book into Thai. The translation effort began in 1970, and Sri was asked to be the lead translator of the translating committee. The project was completed in 1974, and the Book of Mormon was published in Thai in 1976.
“Making this translation brought such spiritual strength to me,” says Sister Sri. “I love my Heavenly Father so much for pouring upon me this gift of tongues and language.”
In 1975, while waiting for approval of the Book of Mormon translation, she began translating the Doctrine and Covenants. The other members of the translating committee discontinued translating for various reasons, so Sri was the mainstay of the scripture translation effort. Though she went to her job during the day, she felt driven to translate when she returned home. Often she worked late into the night, completing a rough translation of as many verses as she could in order to have them ready for the daily meeting of the translation committee. Once she went with other Church members to help with a cleaning project. After several hours of hard work, others suggested she go home to rest. Sri said that she was already resting because if she went home she would feel compelled to translate and could not sleep. The translation of the Doctrine and Covenants was completed in 1979.
Before the queen’s death in 1974, Sri went to see her in the hospital. All of the ladies-in-waiting sat on the floor around the queen’s bed in order of their class. “The queen, who was in great pain, raised up to see me when I entered,” says Sister Sri. “She said, ‘Come to me.’ I stood near her. She said, ‘I still love you.’ I will always be grateful to the queen. Because of the many things I learned while living with her, I was able to read the Book of Mormon and accept the gospel. Because of her, I learned to write and speak in proper Thai language—the language into which the Book of Mormon and the Doctrine and Covenants are translated.”

About two weeks before the rededication of the Washington D.C. Temple in August 2022, my boss and I noticed that one of the European hornbeam trees leading to the temple looked sick. It was sparse in the middle and had some scraggly branches.
As the temple groundskeeper, I was concerned that the beautiful temple grounds were ready except for that one little spot. The tree was next to the fountain near the entrance to the temple.
We had a healthy backup tree growing nearby, and we discussed the possibility of swapping out the healthy tree for the sick one. But first we would have to take up the nearby sidewalk and grass and then move the sprinkler and electrical lines running through the area. My worst fear was that we would pull out the sick tree, transplant the replacement tree, and not have time to make everything around the tree look good for the rededication.
When I told my wife, Carolyn, that we might have to move the tree, she replied: “Just trim off the scraggly branches, and I’ll get my scripture sisters across the country to pray for it. The temple grounds are the Lord’s. He’ll bless the tree.”
Carolyn has a group of friends she calls her scripture sisters—members of the Church who used to live in the same ward. They studied Come, Follow Me together until they all moved, but they keep in touch. When prayer is needed, they call on each other.
After Carolyn told them about the sick tree, they told their children and other family members. Carolyn had no idea how many prayed for the tree, but she had faith that Heavenly Father would hear their prayers.
Within only a few days, the tree sprouted new leaves, filling in the sparse area. “Of course it’s looking better,” Carolyn said. She sent pictures of the tree to her scripture sisters, telling them, “Look how the Lord answered us!”
I knew that people were praying for the tree, so I wasn’t surprised either. I also knew that President Russell M. Nelson would soon bless the temple and the temple grounds during his dedicatory prayer. The tree would be OK.
We were grateful the Lord had honored our offering and faith.

My own dear mother was a wonderful and dedicated visiting teacher for many years. She was continually thinking of ways she could bless the families she visited. She paid particular attention to the children of the women she visited, hoping to strengthen families. I can remember one five-year-old running up to my mother at church and declaring, “You are my visiting teacher. I love you!” Being part of the lives of wonderful women and their families was a blessing to my mother.

Let me share with you one example.
When I was nineteen years old, I was called to serve in the Korea Pusan Mission. While at the MTC, I struggled with discouragement. I was away from home trying to learn a challenging language and I felt that I wasn’t doing very well at it. As I was wrestling with these feelings of inadequacy, I read in the Doctrine and Covenants these words:
“Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you; and ye shall bear record of me, even Jesus Christ, that I am the Son of the living God, that I was, that I am, and that I am to come.” [4]
When I read those words, it was as if the Lord was speaking directly to me. I felt the Lord’s love and support. It was just what I needed. Through experiences like this, I know that He is devoted to us!

Then Malia held up the last picture. “Can I tell this part?” she asked.
“Of course,” Mom said.
The last picture showed a tiny baby girl wrapped in a fuzzy pink blanket. The baby’s eyes were closed, and she wore a tiny hat.
“We have wanted to welcome another child into our family for a long time,” Malia said. “Today we got a special phone call from the social worker. I’m going to have a sister!”
“That’s right, and we’ll see her tomorrow!” Mom said.
“It’s more exciting than Christmas Eve,” Malia said again, and she snuggled into her pillow.
“I know just how you feel,” Dad said.
Malia watched Dad put the pictures back in the box. Someday soon she would make a treasure box for her new sister too.

John Stephen Akhwari, a marathon runner from Tanzania, competed in the 1968 Summer Olympics. As he was suffering along the way from fatigue, leg cramps, dehydration, and disorientation, “a voice called from within to go on, and so he went on” (The Last African Runner, Olympiad Series, written, directed, and produced by Bud Greenspan, Cappy Productions, 1976, videocassette). Exhausted and staggering, John Stephen Akhwari was the last man to enter the stadium, more than an hour after the winner of the marathon had completed the race. When asked why he would complete a race he could never win, Akhwari replied, “My country did not send me 5,000 miles to start the race; my country sent me to finish the race.”

We are not brought to earth just to be born into mortality. We came with a mission and a purpose—and that is to endure to the end.

In my home I learned to work hard. My family used a system we called the “diligence list.” At the beginning of the month, we received a list of various chores, such as doing the dishes, caring for the horses, and so on. We checked off the chores as we completed them, and then at the end of the month, we were given an amount of money for our diligent work based on how many check marks we had on the chart. From this I have learned to work diligently and to be careful with money.

I searched and searched for the perfect gift for Grandpa. Grandpa was dying of cancer, and this would probably be his last Christmas with us. I had been thinking for months on just the perfect thing to get for him. I wanted to give him something unique that would be just a small symbol of all the love and admiration that I had for him. But nothing that I saw seemed to be a worthy representation of that love.
Soon it was Christmas Eve and I still didn’t have a gift for Grandpa. I went shopping one last time, and once again I came home without a gift. I started thinking, if Grandpa had some money, what would he do with it? How would he want the money spent? The answer came to my mind quietly but positively: He would give the money to someone less fortunate than himself. So that’s how the money was used.
I got some paper and wrote about all the feelings I had for Grandpa, told him what I had done for him for Christmas, put the letter in an envelope with a Christmas card, and quickly gave it to him with a kiss. Before he could say anything, I wished him a Merry Christmas, and went back to my room.
A little while later, I went to get something for my mother and passed Grandpa’s room. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. He called me in, drew me close to him, and gave me one of those huge hugs that only grandpas can give. “That was the best gift you could have given me,” he said.
That was Grandpa’s last Christmas with us. It wasn’t until some time after his death that I slowly realized that Grandpa had given me one of the most precious gifts that I’ll ever receive. He had helped me understand that the best gift that one can give is a part of one’s self. Through example, Grandpa had awakened in me a desire to be like him and in so doing, had given me a better understanding of the glorious personage whom he was striving to be like.

When our youngest daughter was about four years of age, I came home from hospital duties quite late one evening. I found my dear wife to be very weary. I don’t know why. She only had nine children underfoot all day. So I offered to get our four-year-old ready for bed. I began to give the orders: “Take off your clothes; hang them up; put on your pajamas; brush your teeth; say your prayers” and so on, commanding in a manner befitting a tough sergeant in the army. Suddenly she cocked her head to one side, looked at me with a wistful eye, and said, “Daddy, do you own me?”

She taught me an important lesson. I was using coercive methods on this sweet soul. To rule children by force is the technique of Satan, not of the Savior. No, we don’t own our children. Our parental privilege is to love them, to lead them, and to let them go.