Gospel Story Finder

Three years ago I met a young man who had been severely injured in an accident. The medical forecast was grim. If he survived, he could spend the rest of his life completely paralyzed. Recently I met him again. Through the priesthood, he had been blessed to gain the mobility needed to do all the Lord intended he do in life. He moved his electric cart near, shook my hand, sat upright, and broke into a broad grin. The room was charged with his invincible spirit. His faith—and incredibly hard, painful effort, sustained and magnified by the blessing of the Lord—has begun a miracle. With periodic help from loving friends, he is succeeding in a university and striving to progress to qualify to be a missionary. I know his continued effort will yield far greater improvement.

By all appearances, Elder Clark* was an ideal missionary. He was obedient, baptized and confirmed many people, and was loved by his companions and Church members. During the last few months of his mission he served as my assistant in the mission office. So when I saw him following his mission I was surprised when he confided that he had had a very difficult time at the beginning of his mission. He was homesick, frustrated with learning the language, and having difficulty with the missionary schedule and rules. However, he knew he had been called by the Lord to serve his mission and that the Lord would support him. So he knelt to talk to the Lord, sharing his concerns and pleading for His help in overcoming them. “As I did this,” Elder Clark told me, “I felt a real change in my being. I felt the Lord’s support and strength. Ideas and good feelings came to me, and I began to overcome my negative concerns. With God’s help, I became a successful missionary.”

Thump! went the backpack on the living room end table. “Put your bag in your room, Petey!” Mother said as she rounded the corner, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. Her smile faded as she noticed Peter’s somber face. “Are you OK?”
“I guess so.” Peter shrugged as he hung his coat on a hook by the door.
“Then why the glum face? Did you have a fight with Justin?”
“Well, no … It’s just that whenever I ask him to come to Primary with me, he says he’s too busy or has stuff to do or something. Why can’t I make him come? Primary is so cool!”
“Let’s sit down a minute,” Mother said, heading for the couch. She tossed the towel onto the end table next to Peter’s backpack. “Do you remember the eleventh article of faith?” she asked when they were seated. “I think that’s one you’ve already learned.”
“Hmmm, let me think.”
“‘We claim the privilege …’” she started him off.
“Oh, yeah! I remember now. That’s the one that says ‘how, where, or what they may.’”
“That’s right! It says, ‘We claim the privilege of worshiping Almighty God according to the dictates of our own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege, let them worship …’”
“‘how, where, or what they may!’” Peter finished proudly.
“That’s very good, Petey. But do you know what it means?”
Peter began to fidget on the couch.
Mother smiled thoughtfully. “Let me see if I can help. Remember last week, when Dad was out of town and we had that snowstorm?”
“Do I ever! We had to shovel the walks and driveway before school. It was a lot of work. And then the neighbor kids wanted to walk through the snow, so they tromped across our lawn, instead! What a waste of time!” Peter shook his head, remembering the footprints across the front lawn.
“Well, no it wasn’t,” Mother corrected gently. “Because our walks were clear, it was easy to get the car out to take you to school.”
“OK, OK.” Peter’s nose wrinkled slightly. “I still don’t get what that has to do with the eleventh article of faith—or Justin.”
“Well, we worked hard to clear a path in the snow—that’s what we wanted to do. It was important to us. But the neighborhood children chose to walk in the snow, instead—because that’s what was important to them. Right?”
“Right,” Peter said. “So what?”
“Well, you want Justin to go to Primary on Sunday because it’s important to you, right?”
“Oh. I think I get it,” Peter said slowly. “Even though I choose to go to Primary, that doesn’t mean that Justin has to, right?”
Mother smiled. “That’s right. Heavenly Father has given us a very precious gift called agency. It is the right to choose and act for ourselves. We can’t force someone to follow the same path we choose to follow. However, while you need to let Justin have his agency, it’s also very good for you to love him and be his friend. You can keep showing Justin the ‘clear path’ that’s important to you. And maybe—just maybe—he’ll want to follow it one day.”
As Peter grabbed his backpack and headed up the stairs, he turned and smiled. “I’m glad I have my agency so I can choose to go to Primary.”

I recently went with priesthood leaders to visit the homes of four women in Honduras. These sisters and their families were in need of priesthood keys and authority, priesthood ordinances and covenants, and priesthood power and blessings.
We visited a dear sister who is married and has two beautiful children. She is faithful and active in the Church, and she is teaching her children to choose the right. Her husband supports her Church activity, but he is not a member. Their family is strong, but to enjoy greater strength, they need additional priesthood blessings. They need the father to receive the ordinances of baptism and the gift of the Holy Ghost and to have the priesthood conferred upon him. They need the priesthood power that can come through the endowment and sealing.
Our next visit was at the home of two single sisters, women of great faith. One sister has a son preparing for a mission. The other sister is receiving treatment for cancer. In times of discouragement and despair, they remember the Savior’s Atonement and are filled with faith and hope. They both need the additional blessings and power available through temple ordinances. We encouraged them to join the future missionary in their home in preparing to receive those ordinances.
Our last visit was at the home of a sister whose husband recently died in a tragic accident. A recent convert to the Church, she had not understood that she could receive her own endowment and be sealed to her husband. When we taught her that these blessings could be available to her and her deceased husband, she was filled with hope. Knowing that through temple ordinances and covenants her family can be sealed together, she has faith and determination to face the trials ahead.
This widow’s son is preparing to receive the Aaronic Priesthood. His ordination will be a great blessing to her and her family. They will have a priesthood holder in their home.
When I met these faithful women in Honduras, I could see that they were striving to keep their families active in the gospel. They expressed gratitude for covenant-keeping ward members who tenderly watch over them and help support their temporal and spiritual needs. However, each of these sisters had needs that had not been fully met.
In each of the three homes we visited, a wise priesthood leader asked each sister if she had received a priesthood blessing. Each time the answer was no. Each sister asked for and received a priesthood blessing that day. Each wept as she expressed gratitude for the comfort, direction, encouragement, and inspiration that came from her Heavenly Father through a worthy priesthood holder.
These sisters inspired me. They showed reverence for God and His power and authority. I was also grateful for the priesthood leaders who visited these homes with me. When we left each home, we counseled together about how to help these families receive the ordinances they needed to progress on the covenant path and strengthen their homes.

A young man learned this saving principle early on in our mission. Elder Simon was from Papua New Guinea. He had been serving for about six months when we arrived in Samoa. He had a gentle spirit and a smile that would melt anyone’s heart. A convert himself, he was anxious to bless others with the same peace he found in the Lord’s true gospel. Unfortunately, the challenge of learning the language was making it hard for him to accomplish this goal. Discouraged, he told me during our first interview,

“President, I’ve been praying, and I received a prompting that I need to go back to my homeland and teach the gospel to my own people, in my own language.”

After listening to Elder Simon share his feelings, I kindly instructed him to return to his apartment and pray again. This time, humbly asking the Lord to help soften his heart toward the people and culture of Samoa. A few days later, I checked in on him. Elder Simon again shared that he received revelation telling him he needed to go home and be a missionary there.

I replied, “It’s strange, Elder, as your Mission President, I haven’t received that same revelation! I invite you to return to your village and give it more time. Try to love outward rather than inward. See those you teach through the Savior’s eyes, and the language will surely come.”

A week later, Elder Simon texted me while I was in American Samoa on assignment. I quickly called him back.

“President, I think the Lord wants me to go home and serve my own people.”

Immediately, these words came out of my mouth: “Elder Simon, Simon says: STAY IN SAMOA!”

From that moment on, this incredible elder turned his will to the Lord’s. He made peace with the Lord’s path for him. The language started to come “line upon line”1 and he eventually became known in the mission as the mayor of Sili, the village where he served the longest. That Christmas, he was called to speak at our Zone Conference Devotional. Elder Simon walked up to that pulpit and gave a Samoan sermon that moved everyone to tears. His example taught us that “with God all things are possible.”2

When Elder Simon left Samoa more than a year later, he returned honorably to his home. Not at the time when he first had requested, but when the Lord knew he was ready! Perhaps the sweetest ending to this story is that Elder Simon’s experience prepared him to be the leader that the Lord needed him to be in gospel-growing Papua. When he finally decided to “go and do”1 willingly, he developed skills that were desperately needed in his homeland. Like the younger version of myself, Elder Simon learned to trust in the Lord and be what He needed Him to be. We received a tender message from him soon after his return home.

“I love and miss you, President and Sister Ho Ching. I received my new church calling. I became the first counselor in the Mount. Hagen Branch. My missionary work is not done yet. Still, I’m trying my best to find some souls and build the Lord’s Kingdom. God bless you all!”

When the time came for me to serve a mission, I felt a desire to bless the people in neighboring Uganda with the gospel, but I also wanted to teach the people in Zimbabwe, home of the missionary who had baptized me.
I prayed, but in my heart, I saw no way I could serve in two countries located far apart. Soon, I received my call to Zimbabwe, but while I was in the missionary training center in Johannesburg, South Africa, my visa was delayed. I was redirected to Uganda, where I served for eight months before receiving visa clearance for Zimbabwe.
“The Lord has His mysterious ways,” I thought to myself.

A few weeks ago, Dr. Jerry Loveland, one of our original faculty, passed away. Jerry came to La`ie in 1955 with his wife Delores. His memory will always be a tender one for those who knew them best. For sheer brain power Jerry was formidable. He studied at some of the finest graduate schools in the world. He was instrumental in founding the Polynesian Cultural Center. He did found the Institute for Polynesian Studies and launched the highly respected quarterly journal, Pacific Studies, which we still publish.
Jerry was intimidating to many of us younger faculty.I'm sure it was due to my own securities, but it seemed that in my early years, I would sweat every time I was around Jerry Loveland. That is, until in a personal sacred moment he shared with me a temple experience that I shall never forget. He said he was performing sealings for a deceased family, mother, father, and children. In his words he said, "I suddenly became aware that this family was actually in the room. And when the sealings were over I watched them file out of the room. The last person was a daughter who smiled, leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. I saw them and I felt the kiss."
A few months ago, Dr. Loveland confirmed this experience and gave me permission to tell it. Brothers and sisters, I have never entered the La`ie Hawaii Temple without a confirming testimony that when you enter the house of the Lord you come into the company of God, angels and witnesses; and that there is a special interaction between people, the children of God, on both sides of the veil.

For many years I had the pleasing experience of being a missionary on Temple Square in Salt Lake City. It was my privilege to teach many wonderful people who came from all over the world to learn about the Church and the gospel. One of those I remember best was Dr. Aer Waerland, who was well-known for his scientific research with foods and nutrition and who had written several books about the subject.
Dr. Waerland had come from Stockholm, Sweden, to learn about Mormons and especially to discuss the law of health we follow. We, of course, learn much about that law from our Heavenly Father in a revelation He gave to Joseph Smith in 1833, which we refer to as the Word of Wisdom. In Sweden Dr. Waerland had heard from missionaries about this program for good health and, because it involved the same things he had studied for many years, he wanted to learn about it at the headquarters of the Church.
I told Dr. Waerland what the Lord has taught us—that our body is part of our eternal soul, that we could not be truly happy eternally without our body, that we will have our bodies forever, after the resurrection, and that, therefore, it is very important that we do everything we can to keep clean and healthy and well.
The Word of Wisdom teaches us a great principle and makes a promise. The principle is that everything good God has provided for us we should use with thanksgiving and good judgment, with prudence and not to excess. Everything that is not good for us we should leave alone. The promise is that if we obey this principle we will be better off in every way: in health, in knowledge and wisdom, and in wonderful spiritual blessings.
With the Doctrine and Covenants opened before us, Dr. Waerland and I discussed the details of the revelation. He talked with some wonderment about the instructions concerning what we should eat and what we should not eat. He noted that the book says that alcohol and tobacco and hot drinks are not good for man. He asked how Joseph Smith, a young man 27 years of age without any formal training in the field of nutrition, could have possibly known about these things in 1833 when the most modern information then available could not have told him so. I explained that Joseph Smith was a prophet and that this information had come by revelation. I said to him, “Dr. Waerland, what would you think of such a young man, 27 years of age, who wrote that document more than 140 years ago?”
He said, “I know nothing of prophets and revelation, but I would say that such a young man was just 140 years ahead of his time.”
He then spoke of some of the recent discoveries of science and of his own researches and said that every suggestion in the Word of Wisdom was good and true.
After we had talked again about prophets and revelation and he had said again that he was not a religious man and knew little of prophets, he repeated that whoever wrote that document was 140 years ahead of his time.
We know now through evidence that cannot be questioned, that alcohol and tobacco and caffeine are not good for the body. We know that they are destructive and harmful. We know much about the importance of the proper food to eat and about moderation in diet. These facts were not available to Joseph Smith except through revelation received from our Heavenly Father. That is how he received them, and we need to remember that, when we thank the Lord for wonderful blessings we have received through prophets from God.

In the old museum on Temple Square there used to be a statue of two pioneers, husband and wife, their cloaks windswept, standing together beside a small grave. My seminary class once took a tour of Temple Square. We stopped and looked at the statue, and one girl said, “Isn’t that so sad?” and the girl next to her solemnly agreed, “It’s awful. How did they ever stand it?” Then we continued on to the Assembly Hall to exclaim over how beautiful the stained glass windows are.

Today is Valentine's Day. You might know about the BYU-Idaho English student who received a B-minus on an important paper. In hopes of bettering his grade, and in the spirit of the Valentine's season, he left for his professor an extravagant heart-shaped box of chocolates with a preprinted inscription: "Be Mine." The following day he received in return a Valentine from the teacher. It read, "Thank you, but your grade is still be mine-us."

Two young Hawaiians were credited with saving the lives of their friends in separate incidents. Ranceford K. Shea of the Waianae First Ward, Waipahu Hawaii Stake, received the Honor Medal for Lifesaving from the Boy Scouts of America for helping his friend, Max Miller, reach the safety of the beach after being knocked off a reef by a wave. The younger boy hit his head, and Ranceford pulled him to safety.

While on a class outing near Kualoa Beach Park, Leandra Arlyn K. Data of the Waipahu Ward, Waipahu Hawaii Stake, helped save the lives of several of her fellow classmates. The large group was following a reef to a nearby island when several got out of line and fell off into deeper water. Leandra was one in this group. She resisted panic and helped her friend who couldn’t swim to relax and float. Then after being picked up by a rescue boat, she helped pull others to safety. Even though her friend was carried away by a current, Leandra’s quick instructions saved her life. Her friend was found in good condition still floating like Leandra had taught her.

In 1946 I was assigned by President George Albert Smith to go to war-torn Europe and reestablish our missions from Norway to South Africa and to set up a program for the distribution of welfare supplies.

We established headquarters in London. We then made preliminary arrangements with the military on the continent. One of the first men I wished to see was the commander of the American forces in Europe. He was stationed in Frankfurt, Germany.

When we arrived in Frankfurt, my companion and I went in to seek an appointment with the general. The appointment officer said, “Gentlemen, there will be no opportunity for you to see the general for at least three days. He’s very busy and his calendar is filled up with appointments.”

I said, “It is very important that we see him, and we can’t wait that long. We’re due in Berlin tomorrow.”

He said, “I’m sorry.”

We left the building, went out to our car, removed our hats, and united in prayer. We then went back into the building and found a different officer at the appointment post. In less than fifteen minutes we were in the presence of the general. We had prayed that we would be able to see him and to touch his heart, knowing that all relief supplies contributed from any source were then required to be placed in the hands of the military for distribution. Our objective, as we explained it to the general, was to distribute our own supplies to our own people through our own channels, and also to make gifts for general child feeding.

We explained the welfare program and how it operated. Finally, he said, “Well, gentlemen, you go ahead and collect your supplies; and by the time you get them collected, the policy may be changed.” We said, “General, our supplies are already collected; they’re always collected. Within twenty-four hours from the time we wire the First Presidency of the Church in Salt Lake City, carloads of supplies will be rolling toward Germany. We have many storehouses filled with basic commodities.”

He then said, “I’ve never heard of a people with such vision.” His heart was touched as we had prayed it would be. Before we left his office, we had a written authorization to make our own distribution to our own people through our own channels.

Linda Bradshaw of the Sutton Coldfield Ward, Lichfield England Stake, travelled to St. James’ Palace in London to meet His Royal Highness the Duke of Edinburgh. She was one of a group of young women and young men from all over the country chosen to receive the Duke of Edinburgh Gold Award.
Requirements for the gold award include participation and excellence in five areas—physical activity, a skill, community service, residential outward-bound course, and an expedition. Linda became proficient in art and crafts, playing the flute, aerobics, swimming, and self-defence. She completed her community service serving as an assistant junior school teacher during her free school periods. Her experience as a teacher’s assistant helped her decide to make teaching her career.
Her outward-bound experiences included abseiling (like rappeling), canoeing, fencing, and orienteering. Her four-day expedition was hiking and camping across the Cader Idris Mountains in North Wales.
“As each stage became progressively harder,” said Linda, “I appreciated the way completing seminary booklets and setting goals to memorize scriptures helped me to overcome hurdles and learn how to complete my goals for these awards.”

As a young man, Chad Webb was attending the College of Eastern Utah (now Utah State University Eastern) when he had a foundational spiritual experience that deepened his testimony of the gospel. That experience started with a desire to strengthen his faith.
Amid doing schoolwork and playing basketball on his college team, Brother Webb made studying the scriptures, praying, and pondering a priority as he prepared to serve a full-time mission in Veracruz, Mexico.
One cold night he went for a long walk around Price, Utah, and thought about everything he was learning. Heavenly guidance came as he entered an empty parking lot.
“I felt that all the answers to my prayers and questions came, and I felt very deeply how true the gospel and the Church are,” he said. “Those truths came with great clarity in my mind, along with the feeling that Heavenly Father was aware of me. I felt His love and His direction. That was one of the early impactful experiences I had to deepen my testimony.”

It’s tough to be the only member or active member in your family. It seems as if the ward is full of ideal families who have family home evening, prayers, and scripture reading—all of which you want to have too. Meanwhile, you sit alone at church or go with another family to the ward party. It’s not that you want to change families, but you want your family to change, because you love them and want eternal blessings for them: you don’t want to sit alone in the congregation in the hereafter. Yet you get discouraged when their answer to your pleas is no. At times you might even feel sorry for yourself. But always you cling to the hope that someday they will join. Susan also had that hope.
Susan, 16, is a pretty and talented girl, pretty because she’s self-assured, and talented because she’s self-motivated. Rather than cautiously and worriedly dipping her toes into the stream of life, she figuratively plunges in head first, perhaps becoming blue-lipped and spluttering for breath at first, but having a good time anyway. After her baptism three years ago, Susan aimed her efforts toward home: she wanted her father baptized.
“I knew if my father was baptized, mother would come into the Church, too. So that was my number one goal,” Susan recalled. “I thought I could accomplish it by myself because I knew my parents kinda liked me, so I reasoned they’d want to do this,” she said with bold confidence. “I tried everything,” she added more humbly.
“I tried being forceful, but that didn’t work. Then I tried making them feel sorry for me. I told them that I had to sit in church by myself and sing by myself, and that everybody else was with their families. That didn’t work either.”
Although she sometimes felt discouraged, Susan would not give in. “After I learned more about missionary work,” she continued, “I tried a different approach: I invited them to come to my church meetings. I gave talks in sacrament meeting, and mother would come. One time I sang in stake conference. I even got a new dress. Mother was going to come, but she got sick, so I went with no hope that either mother or father would be there. We were singing our song when I looked at the back of the chapel and saw my father coming through the door. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t because I had to sing.
“Another time that father came with me was at the ward father-daughter social. While we were sitting there eating our breakfast, I looked at father, and the thought came to me that someday he was going to be baptized. Right in the middle of the meal, I knew it, and I wanted it more than anything.”
But the baptism didn’t happen overnight, and Susan learned more about missionary work. “I knew I couldn’t do it by myself,” she admitted.
One day while walking home from school, Susan saw two parked bicycles on her street and two missionaries knocking on someone’s door. The missionaries had been to Susan’s home five times before. Usually they had just come once. But Susan wouldn’t let that block her new excitement. Maybe this time her father was ready.
“I had hoped the missionaries wouldn’t get in to the house they were knocking at because I wanted to talk to them. They didn’t, so I told them about my father. They told me that they had prayed that morning about where they should tract and were sent to my street. I think the Lord knew that my father was ready to hear the gospel. Whether anyone else knew it or not, the Lord knew it, and that is all that matters.”
But all wasn’t perfect and easy. There were times when Susan got very discouraged, wondering why things weren’t happening faster. “Then I would have to remember that getting ready for baptism was a slow process for me also. I would look around and see other young people who sat by themselves in church or whose circumstances seemed worse than mine, but they didn’t seem discouraged. Their example helped me to stop feeling sorry for myself.”
Meanwhile, realizing that her example was crucial, Susan also reaped one of the blessings of missionary work—that of preparing and growing herself.
“I had to be as ready as father did. I had to do a lot of praying, some fasting, and even some repenting. I realized that missionary work is love and service, that it is telling your mom and father you love them even if your little brother and sister are listening. I also tried to follow the missionaries’ example of showing love for father.
The missionaries came to Susan’s home seven times over a five-month period. Each time she could tell that her father was getting closer.
“One night in April I went for my birthday interview with the bishop. Father came to pick me up after.” Susan continued mischievously, “I hid down the hall so he would have to come in and find me. When he came into the church, he asked if he could see the bishop alone. He was in there for about 30 minutes, and I was out in the foyer wondering what in the world they were talking about!
“On the way home I was anxious to hear what happened in his meeting. All of a sudden father said, ‘Well, Susie, I guess I’ll get baptized.’ I just sat there. I wanted to cry, but I knew I shouldn’t because father doesn’t like us to get emotional. All I said was, ‘Oh, I think that’s wonderful.’ That was kind of a silly thing to say, but what do you say when your biggest goal has just been realized?”
Susan’s father was baptized on April 14th.
But Susan realizes that her missionary work isn’t over yet. “I still get impatient and discouraged at times, but I’ve come to realize that becoming a celestial family is a step-by-step process. And I must understand my parents. I try to do my part. When I’m spiritually low, it shows in the home. So I try to keep my testimony strong by doing what I’m supposed to do; I feel better when I do.”
Susan has learned a lot about missionary work, mostly through trial and error. She has learned that timing and responses are different for different people, that force and pity aren’t successful, that true service is far more important than just talking about service, that the Spirit must touch the person’s life, and that desire—well, as for desire, Susan isn’t lacking; she keeps on trying, regardless of mistakes, to boldly live the gospel, although it’s sometimes awkward, frightening, and even downright hard.
But positively, Susan summed it up: “My father wanted absolutely nothing to do with the Church 20 years ago, but after going through a lot of visits from our home teachers, and after many different sets of missionaries, and after he had a daughter who wouldn’t leave him alone—my father is a member of the Church.”
And when asked about her recent goals, Susan enthusiastically replied, “To have family home evening, family prayer, and to be sealed in the temple to my family—that’s my number one goal now!”

It was 8:30 A.M. when my serene world of comfort was interrupted by the gentle, but annoyingly persistent, hand of my mother poking me.
“Brett, before you go out to play today, could you mow the lawn please? When you’re finished, bring me your dirty clothes. I’ll need to do another load of laundry.”
My pillows no longer felt as soft. My blanket no longer gave its usual feeling of security. My eyes couldn’t seem to get in a comfortable position under my now forced-shut eyelids. I was awake.
“Noooooo,” I half-groaned, half-moaned, through a mouthful of pillow as my arms involuntarily felt the need to stretch.
After the denial came protest. “But, but …” I stuttered, trying to formulate a reason to stay in bed this early on a Saturday.
Many minutes later, gazing painfully through my brilliantly illuminated window, I was sure temperatures were approaching 200 degrees, and in my weakened condition, I wasn’t sure I could lug our lawn mower up every mountainside of my backyard with what I would call an amiable attitude.
“Why do I have to mow the lawn?” I mumbled in frustration. “If she cares so much about it, why doesn’t she mow it,” I dared to verbalize at a mere whisper.
“Breeettt,” came the singsong voice of my mother from the kitchen, reminding me I was to actually get out of bed.
After 20 minutes I was able to pull myself out of my room and into the kitchen, eyes closed and neck straining to hold my head up.
“Mom, please,” I pleaded, putting on my most pitiful face in an attempt to garner some sympathy. Mom’s predictable response was, “Brett, just go mow the lawn.”
I walked to the garage. The world was out to get me.
While freeing the lawn mower, I stubbed my toe. “Grrrrraaaarrr,” I growled like an animal, feeling a tantrum coming on.
Half an hour later, sitting on the garage floor glaring at the lawn mower, I was no closer to completing the lawn. Grumbling, I pushed the old lawn mower into the heat of day.
Finally, I started the mower and began to push it back and forth, creating long lines of cut grass. Guiltily I began to realize I’d spent more time sitting on the ground of the garage floor than I had spent mowing most of the lawn.
I realized that whether or not I mowed the lawn, it still had to be mowed. And my mom really would mow the lawn herself, but she was too busy doing other chores like my laundry. My mom was like that.
I recalled the time when we had caught her weeding the flowerbeds at a gas station while we were on a family vacation. And the time she was outside in a rainstorm with an umbrella and a hose, guiding the flow of water to make sure all the dirt on the porch was washed away. Our house was always immaculate because of her.
A sudden epiphany hit me: I was so focused on the work I had to do, I never considered the work others had to do. My mother had never asked me to work while she was lazing about. I guiltily considered the countless times I had been idly reading a book in a comfortable chair as my mom asked me to lift my feet so she could vacuum under them. I considered the amount of service I had received and the almost laughable amount of service I had rendered. Oh, sure, I had done service projects and eventually all the chores my parents asked of me, but usually unwillingly.
A light went on in my head. To truly give service I would have to do so willingly.
To read more about serving willingly, see “Getting the Point” by Taylor Woodruff (New Era, Oct. 2003) in the Gospel Library at www.lds.org.
See also Mosiah 24:15; D&C 58:26–27; D&C 64:34.

My girl friend used to be very in tune with and enthusiastic about the gospel. But recently she’s been going out with people who have different standards than the Church teaches, and as a result she’s doing things that aren’t good for her. She isn’t attending Mutual and has started drinking and dating boys with bad reputations. I wrote her a letter, telling her how much I love her and the gospel, and I asked her if there is anything I can do. She wrote back saying she knows that what she is doing is wrong. Yet, she keeps doing it. Her family is really strong in the Church. They are trying to help her, but it’s not working. This problem is tearing her apart, and it’s hurting me as well. What should I do?

Elder Soares: I met Sister Soares at a church dance six months after I had returned from my mission. She had also just recently returned from a mission.
Sister Soares: I could see you look at me, and something began to stir within me too. And as soon as the music stopped, you came over and asked me to dance.
Elder Soares: We continued as friends, but it was that night when our eyes were opened. We each saw a faithful young Latter-day Saint and the potential for a relationship. And two weeks later we began to date. That was 41 years ago.

Not long ago Wallace was able to see and hear a modern-day prophet when President Gordon B. Hinckley came to Nairobi. Wallace went with his family to listen to President Hinckley speak. “I couldn’t believe I was seeing the prophet,” Wallace says. “I thought I was going to faint!” At the meeting Wallace felt the Spirit tell him that President Hinckley is a prophet of God. Wallace also heard President Hinckley tell the people that if they will be faithful, someday there will be a temple in East Africa.

I guess Annabelle and I sort of grew up together. I was eleven years old when she died, just a few months ago. Dad didn’t see her one day when he was backing out of the driveway in our van. And I guess Annabelle didn’t see Dad. Not in time, anyway. Dad felt so bad. It was the first time I’d seen him cry since he bore his testimony last year at church and told about how we joined the Church.
I think we were all thinking about that this morning when we buried Annabelle under the plum tree in our backyard. Mom had wrapped Annabelle in some pretty green material, and we put her in the hole Dad had dug in the soft earth. Then we all sat quietly in a circle around the little open grave and thought about our cat. Dad called it paying our last respects.
Sunlight shined into Annabelle’s little grave through the limbs of the plumb tree. Mom said it was as though Heavenly Father was filling it with light to remind us that He is with us in our saddest moments—maybe especially then.
Dad said that we’d always be indebted to Annabelle for directing us in our own, unknowing way to the gospel of Jesus Christ and that just as that hole was filled with light, so our hearts will be, too, as we try in our own way each day to share His living truths with others.
We put some daisies from Mom’s flower garden on Annabelle’s grave, and I made a little picket fence around it out of sticks.
I know we will have other pets. Maybe a dog. Maybe another cat. Or maybe something else. But I’ll probably remember Annabelle the best—and that night on Temple Square.