Gospel Story Finder

In 1992, time was a precious and limited commodity for Elder S. Mark Palmer and his wife, Jacqueline.
Elder Palmer was serving on the stake high council at the time. He was also working hard to build his professional career. Sister Palmer’s time was stretched just as thin. The Palmers were raising six children in their Austin, Texas, USA, home—including a six-month-old baby boy.
When their stake president invited them to serve as workers at the Dallas Texas Temple, they didn’t know how they could handle one more duty. But they accepted the call—and then prayerfully asked for the Lord’s help.
Making a monthly bus trip to serve all day in the temple required sacrifice and careful planning. “But it blessed our lives enormously,” says Elder Palmer.
Serving in the temple, he adds, prepared him spiritually for future priesthood callings. It also made him a better husband and father—and he found balance in his busy life.
“Going to the temple often helps you reset your priorities and be reminded of the covenants you have made,” he says.

The entire family enjoys drama. They put on skits, puppet shows, and brief musicals during family home evenings and for summer activities. One of their favorite skits was a Western, which they did for a Primary talent show in Emmett, Idaho. Nicholas liked it because he got to fall into a pie tin filled with whipped cream. Ashley liked it because she had a beard made of chocolate—yum! Sometimes they wear animal noses and play zoo.

Several years ago we had four little girls in our home. One evening at dinner one of them said, “I wish we had a baby. A baby would be so much fun. Could we have one?”
We all wanted a baby, so I suggested, “Let’s ask our Heavenly Father if we can have a new little spirit come to our home. Let’s tell Him how we would love a baby and how glad we would be to take care of one.”
Everyone agreed that would be a good idea, and so in our family prayers and in our own secret prayers we prayed that we might have a baby to love in our home.
Seven years went by and sometimes we were a little discouraged, but we never gave up praying for a baby. Then one evening as we were eating dinner, we told our girls that at last our prayers were going to be answered and we would soon have a baby in our home.
We had no boys in our family and so we thought a baby boy would be especially nice. But when I came home from the hospital after the baby was born, I took a big piece of paper and wrote:
5 girls
on it and put it across the front of our house so everyone could see.
The night we brought our baby home we all sat around looking at her even though she was fast asleep. She was a miracle to us—we had waited and prayed seven years for her.

When the chemotherapy began, so did the inevitable side effects, including hair loss. I don’t know why it bothered me so much, but it did—probably more than it bothered Chris. At first, there was hair on his pillow. Then it was in the sink. Finally, Chris shaved off what hair was left. Later that afternoon with Chris napping on the couch, the two Bens and Jeremy knocked at the door. As they came in, they doffed their hats to show Chris their cleanly shaved heads. They laughed together and watched a video of them all shaving each other’s heads.
“Now I wasn’t the only one with a shaved head. I just had the smoothest,” explained Chris.
A few days later at school, the four boys were walking down the hallway when a girl said, “They look like they have cancer.” Alone, that remark could have been devastating. Together, they just laughed about it.

This story happened in Taiwan.
“Ready, Louie?” Miss Li asked.
Louie nodded. He put his fingers to the black and white piano keys and began to play. Plink, plink, plink. He loved playing all the notes together to make music. He played through the whole first page and moved to the next.
PLUNK. Oops. He always had trouble playing that part. It had lots of quick notes. Louie started again from the beginning.
PLUNK. Louie frowned. Not again!
“That’s OK,” Miss Li said. “Let’s try again slowly.”
Louie practiced with Miss Li’s help a few more times. But he still couldn’t get through that part very well.
“This part is tricky, but I know you can do it,” Miss Li said. “Do you think you can practice more at home before the performance?”
“I think so,” Louie said.
The next day, Louie practiced piano again. But he kept messing up the same part! Plink, plink, PLUNK.
Dad came into the room. “How’s it going?” he asked.
Louie pointed at the notes on the music sheet. “This part is really hard. I keep having to do it over and over!”
“That does look hard,” Dad said. “But this reminds me of a story in the Book of Mormon. The story about Nephi going back to get the plates.”
Louie’s eyes got big. “I love that story! Nephi kept going back to try again. And Heavenly Father helped him.”
Dad smiled. “That’s right. I think if you keep trying, Heavenly Father will help you like he helped Nephi.”
Louie nodded and started over. Dad sat in a chair close to Louie and listened. Louie focused on the part that was hard. He played each note slowly.
Then Louie played through the whole song again. Each time he played, he got faster. At last he played all the notes right! He felt so good. He didn’t even notice how long it took.
“You did it! Great job,” Dad said.
Mom stood in the doorway. “It sounded great, Louie!”
“Thanks,” Louie said. “I finally learned the hard part.”
Mom gave Louie a hug. “I’m proud of you for working so hard.”
On the night of the performance, Louie was nervous. His heart was pounding. His hands were sweaty.
Finally, his name was called. He walked onto the stage and looked at the parents and kids listening. He said the name of his song, then sat down on the hard bench.
Louie took a deep breath and placed his hands on the shiny keys. He knew he had done all he could. Heavenly Father would help him.
Louie started to play. The notes came just as he had practiced. Then it was time for the hard part.
He played each note right. It didn’t feel quite so hard this time!
Finally he played the last note of the song. Everyone clapped as he lifted his fingers from the keys. Louie smiled and bowed. He saw Mom, Dad, and his sisters clapping and smiling. He did it! He had tried again even when it was hard, just like Nephi. And Heavenly Father had helped him.
Illustrations by Toby Newsome

A temple trip to do baptisms for the dead took on new meaning for the youth of the Oklahoma City Oklahoma Stake. To prepare for their temple trip, the youth worked in the name extraction program and personally performed the baptisms in behalf of the people whose names they had extracted.

The Young Women worked in pairs. One would read and the other would print the information on extraction cards. The girls began to feel a close relationship with the people on the film. They prayed for guidance when names were not legible and often were able to decipher the writing.

The Young Men became interested in the program and began participating in name extraction in preparation for the temple trip. The Young Women helped train the Young Men in the correct ways of filling out extraction cards.

When the youth traveled to the temple, they felt the significance of what they were doing because they had been involved through the whole process.

Illustrated by Mike Eagle
Even though Elder David O. McKay’s daughter Lou Jean was very ill, he had to travel out of state for a stake conference.
Elder McKay: I’ll be back as soon as I can.
Not long after he left, Elder McKay received a telegram saying that he needed to come home right away. When he stepped off the train at home, his father was there to greet him.
Elder McKay: Is Lou Jean still alive?
Father: Yes, but she’s worse than when you left.
A doctor and a nurse stayed at Elder McKay’s house all night. Other family members came to help for several days, but Lou Jean grew only worse.
On Sunday, Elder McKay sent his sons Lawrence and Llewelyn to church while he and his wife, Emma Ray, stayed home to care for Lou Jean.
Elder McKay: Son, will you ask the Sunday School president to have the Sunday School classes pray for Lou Jean today?
Son: Yes, Father.
Elder McKay’s son obeyed. He noticed that at 11:00 the requested prayer was given.
When Elder McKay’s sons returned home, they received good news.
Elder McKay: Well, boys, Lou Jean is going to be all right! At 11:00 this morning she finally relaxed and fell into a calm sleep.
Son: Father, that’s when the Sunday School prayed for her!
Elder McKay: Heavenly Father has rewarded the faithful prayers of many people who love us. We must show Him our gratitude.

“Brother Jacobs told us about the actual people the play was based on. They left their family behind in Armenia because they knew the Church was true. They decided to come to Utah. After they left, their family was killed. It makes you realize how important this play is. It gives you an appreciation for what people went through,” says 16-year-old Shae Dunkley.
Armenia of the 1890s may seem an unlikely place to find a missionary story, but the play “And They Shall Be Gathered,” written by Martin Kelly, is exactly that. Based on the true conversion story of husband and wife Arzuman and Akaby Tavoian, the play explores not only gospel principles but the love of a family as well.
Arzuman and Akaby (named Sarkis and Arick in the play) learn about the gospel individually, and each decides to be baptized—without telling the other person. (Because of their common last name, the missionaries are unaware that they are married.) When they discover they are both members of this new religion, they realize they must leave the country and go to Utah in order to fully live and practice their faith.
Just as they are preparing to leave, another young family member is killed in an accident. The family is severely saddened by the death and doesn’t understand why he was taken so young. Sarkis and Arick are able to leave with their family the gospel message of hope and the knowledge of life after death.
They then bid their family a fond but teary farewell and set out for Utah.
Sadly, Sarkis and Arick never hear from their family again. It is assumed that they were killed by invading Turks just after Sarkis and Arick left the country.

Matt’s hero was his big brother Nate. Although Nate was ten years older than Matt, they were very good friends.
When Matt was seven, he wrote this essay for school:
Wouldn’t It Be Great If I Grew Up to Be Like My Big Brother?
Wouldn’t it be great if I grew up to be like my big brother? My big brother is an awesome basketball player. He can sink three-point shots, and he almost always makes his foul shots. He can really jump high, so he gets a lot of rebounds. My favorite thing is when he plays me a game of one-on-one. It is even fun to play when he beats me with all of his slam dunks. I’m glad I have such a neat big brother. I hope I can be the same kind of big brother to my little brother someday.
Matt still felt exactly the same way about his brother two years later, but along with those happy feelings were some feelings of sadness. Nate was nineteen now, and he had recently met with the bishop and stake president to send in his mission papers. Matt wanted Nate to serve a mission, but he knew that two years would seem like a very long time. He would really miss his brother.
When the mission-call envelope arrived in the mail, the family all sat around Nate. He read his call from the prophet:
You are hereby called to serve as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You are assigned to labor in the Brazil Florianopolis Mission. It is anticipated that you will serve for a period of twenty-four months.
Nate continued reading, but Matt didn’t hear the rest of the letter. All he understood was that his brother was going to go to a place Matt had never heard of and that he would be gone for two years. Matt knew that his family and Nate were excited, so he kept his sad feelings to himself and tried to share in the celebration.
The next few months were busy ones as everyone helped Nate prepare for his mission. They found maps and pictures of Brazil and hung them on the wall. Mom bought some tapes so that the family could all learn a few words of Portuguese. Nate bought a lot of white shirts and ties. Matt thought that Nate already looked like a missionary in his new suit.
Matt was very proud as Nate spoke in sacrament meeting on the Sunday before he was to leave. Matt felt all warm and fuzzy inside as Nate shared his testimony. As much as he was going to miss Nate, Matt knew that his brother was going to be an awesome missionary.
The day before Nate was to leave, Matt was out in the driveway, shooting a few hoops. He was trying to not feel sad, but tears were beginning to pool in his eyes.
“Hey, what’s up?” Nate asked as he rebounded the ball after Matt’s shot. Matt didn’t want Nate to see him cry, so he choked back the tears and challenged his older brother to a game.
Nate had noticed the tears in Matt’s eyes, though, and agreed to the game under one condition. “If I win, you have to make me a chocolate milk shake. Deal?”
“You’re on!” Matt grinned as he grabbed the ball, dribbled past Nate, and swished a three-point shot.
It was a hard-fought game, but Matt finally won by a point.
“Good game, champ!” Nate gave Matt a high five. “I hope that they have basketballs in Brazil so I can practice once in a while, or you’ll really skunk me in two years.”
Matt laughed, moving close to his big brother as they sat down under the shade of the apple tree in the backyard.
“I guess the treats are on me today.” Nate smiled as he handed Matt his favorite candy bar and pulled another from his pocket for himself.
“I was really hoping for a chocolate milk shake,” Nate said as he took the last bite of his candy bar. “I’m not sure I’ll get any of those in Brazil.”
Matt tried to smile, but a few tears slipped out of the corner of his eyes and down his cheeks.
Nate put his arm around his little brother. “I’ll be fine, champ. I think I’ll survive for two years without chocolate milk shakes.”
Matt smiled but couldn’t keep his voice from cracking. “You might survive without milk shakes, but I don’t know if I will survive without you.”
“Can I share a secret with you?” Nate said in a quiet voice.
Matt nodded.
“I’m really going to miss you and the rest of the family. I am also very nervous about going to a country so far away where they speak a different language.”
Matt was surprised. “If you’re nervous and scared, why are you going?”
Nate was quiet for a few moments. Then he said, “Champ, do you believe that President Hinckley is a true prophet of God?”
Matt nodded. “Sure I do.”
“Our prophet has said that all worthy young men should serve a mission. Even though I am nervous and know it will be very hard, I want to follow the prophet. If he says that the Lord wants me in Brazil, then I need to go.”
As Matt gave his brother a hug, he said, “I promise to write to you and pray for you. I really am glad that you are going on a mission.”
“I appreciate that, champ!” Nate wrapped his arms around Matt in a huge bear hug.
Although the next day, it was hard to tell his brother good-bye for two years, Matt thought that the Missionary Training Center was awesome. He had never seen so many missionaries, and he had a really warm, happy feeling inside while they were there. He knew that Nate would be all right.
After reading the letter, Matt sat down and wrote a letter to Nate. He told his brother how thankful he was that Nate was in Brazil, teaching people about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Matt also did some serious thinking. He didn’t want just to be a good basketball player like Nate when he grew up. He wanted to be like Nate and follow the prophet and be a good missionary, as well!

Molly could never wait for something to happen. She did all she could to make something happen quickly.
Most of the time Molly’s impatience did not get her into serious trouble. She was just in the habit of hurrying with everything she did.
One day Molly’s teacher, Miss Raymond, said, “Class, your project this month concerns a member of this classroom. How many of you have noticed that Naryana isn’t at school today?”
Ten sixth-grade hands waved above Molly’s head. Molly hadn’t noticed, but, then, she hadn’t paid any special attention to Naryana.
“Naryana Ranjappa is Indian,” Miss Raymond said as she pulled down their geography map. “But she is not an American Indian. She is from India.” Molly watched Miss Raymond place her long pointer on a country across the Arabian Sea and to the east of Africa. “Naryana was born in India and for a short time lived in England. From there she moved to our city here in the United States.”
“Wow!” Howard Higgins said. “She’s come a long way!”
“And she is not happy here,” Miss Raymond continued. “You must have noticed how sad she is. That is a problem we might be able to help her solve. What can we do to make her smile and be happy?”
“Miss Raymond?” Molly wiggled at her desk until her teacher called on her.
“Yes, Molly?”
“Miss Raymond, I have an idea to make Naryana feel more at home. Why couldn’t we have an Indian festival with something about the customs of her country?”
“That’s a wonderful idea, Molly,” their teacher answered, and all the students agreed.
Looking at her class, Miss Raymond said thoughtfully, “If you like the festival idea, you’ll have to find out about Indian customs without telling Naryana. Perhaps if we surprise her it will bring a smile to her face.”
All the children liked the idea and began working right away. The different ways of this country on the other side of the world made them want to learn more and more about it.
Janice checked out from the library a large picture book about India with photographs of people and animals wandering through narrow, crowded streets. Howard brought a calendar picture of an Indian girl who had a red mark on her forehead. She was wearing a beautiful yellow silk dress called a sari. The whole class learned about India in small groups, at recess, or after school without Naryana discovering their surprise.
Naryana was tiny for her age when compared to her classmates. Most of the time she sat quietly staring down at her desk.
The night before the festival many of the children stayed after school and helped decorate the room. They swirled and curled brightly colored designs with poster paint. They hoped that the decorated elephant, the model of the Taj Mahal, and the traditional welcome of fresh fruit and flowers would all help to bring a smile to Naryana’s face. The children felt the excitement grow as the room took on a festive look.
The next morning everyone came to school early. The boys and girls stood silently around the room waiting for Naryana to come to class.
Within a few minutes Naryana walked into the room. Her eyes widened with surprise. She looked at the decorations and at the boys and girls and they looked at her. Would she smile? they wondered.
Molly carefully led Naryana to the center of the room. As she looked around at the colorful decorations from her native land, Naryana smiled. But Molly noticed that it was a sad kind of a smile. It pushed at her cheeks, but it did not change her face as they had hoped it would. The festival began as fruits, nuts, and flowers appeared as if by magic. One of the girls played “Song of India” on the piano and Miss Raymond read Kipling’s poem “Rikki Tikki Tavi” to them. They ate, sang, and laughed while sitting on the floor in traditional Indian fashion.
It was a wonderful festival, but Molly was not satisfied. She had hoped for a wide, happy smile from Naryana, but only a shy, little smile had lighted the face of the girl from India.
Later at home, Molly decided that the fruit and colorful designs at school had meant little to Naryana. She wanted to make her happy but would have to do it in another way. Molly tried to think of something really special that she could do for Naryana. She looked around her bedroom, wondering if she might give her a gift. Molly saw her brush and comb set, her stuffed giraffe, and her dolls, but nothing seemed to be suitable.
Molly finally decided to go over to Naryana’s house. Maybe I can cheer her up, she thought. As she ran up the walk Molly suddenly stopped. Naryana was sitting alone on her front steps with her eyes searching the ground.
“Hello, Naryana,” Molly said with a cheery voice.
Startled, Naryana looked up but she didn’t smile. “You’re Molly aren’t you?” she asked.
“Yes,” Molly answered, surprised that Naryana knew her name. Naryana invited Molly into her house. The rich-looking brass ornaments and brightly woven fabrics decorating the walls were beautiful. As the girls went back to Naryana’s bedroom, Molly caught the pleasant smell of spices and perfume that filled the hall.
Naryana had twin beds in her room and Molly immediately noticed two photographs hanging on the wall between them. They were pictures that looked like Naryana but not the girl Molly knew. Each of these pictures showed a face that was bright-eyed and happy.
“I’m the one on the right,” Naryana explained, “and the other one is Shani, my sister. We are identical twins.”
“But where is she?” Molly asked.
“In Devonshire, England. We left her there with relatives, because she was too ill to come here with us.”
Molly watched Naryana’s eyes fill with tears and her chin begin to quiver as she talked.
“Shani had a bad accident and can not be moved until she is better.”
“Naryana, we didn’t know you had a twin sister in England. Miss Raymond didn’t tell us.” Suddenly, Molly knew how she could make Naryana happy. It might take weeks, but it would be worth every bit of time and trouble.
It was hard for Molly to keep a secret, but she didn’t tell anybody about her plan for over a month. When she was sure she couldn’t keep the surprise any longer, a package arrived from her brother.
After lunch that day, Molly came flying breathlessly into the classroom, carrying a package and her family’s tape recorder. She went straight up to Miss Raymond’s desk and whispered something to her.
“Oh, Molly! Yes, of course,” she said. “Let’s play it right now.”
Miss Raymond called the class to order. They all felt the excitement of something about to happen.
“Molly has a wonderful surprise for us.” Miss Raymond announced.
Everyone sat quietly when Molly stood up proudly and said, “You may know that my brother is on a mission in southern England. Well, I wrote to him several weeks ago and asked him to do me a favor.”
Molly glanced back at Naryana and saw her raise her head and watch attentively as Molly continued, “He sent me this tape and I want to play it for you now.”
She turned on the recorder and a sweet voice began speaking, “Dear Naryana and Miss Raymond’s sixth-grade class: It is raining here in Devon, and the flowers and bushes outside my bedroom window seem to grow with each raindrop even though we are well into fall. I want to tell you that Doctor Hardwell says I am slowly getting better …”
From then on the tape from Shani was a treat for everyone. On previous occasions, Naryana’s rare smiles never quite filled her face, but now she was beaming when she heard her sister’s words filled with hope.
For Naryana and for them all this voice was a miraculous bridge over time and two continents.
For Molly, it was a lesson in friendship and patience. Sometimes, Molly decided, best things do come from waiting.

“The seed of Manasseh,” Melvin repeated to himself just as he had more than forty years before when, as a boy of eleven, he had first heard these words.
It had been at the time the Logan Temple was dedicated and Patriarch Zebedee Coltrin had traveled from his home in southern Utah to stay with Melvin’s family and attend the dedication. What a thrill it was for Melvin to meet a man who had personally known the Prophet Joseph Smith! Every morning Melvin arose early so he could shine the patriarch’s shoes and listen to more stories about the Prophet.
Before leaving for home, Brother Coltrin suggested that he give a special blessing to Melvin and some of his brothers and sisters. In Melvin’s blessing the patriarch declared, “Thou shalt proclaim the gospel unto the seed of Manasseh and shall do many mighty miracles in the midst of the Lord.”
Later Melvin’s father told the family the story of Ephraim and Manasseh. Then he read to them from the Book of Mormon about Lehi and his family, who were descendants of Manasseh. He explained that the Indians were Lamanites and were known as the seed of Manasseh.
During the following years Melvin thought many times about his blessing. The only Lamanites he had ever seen were those who lived in tents outside of the little pioneer town of Logan, and he often wondered how he could proclaim the gospel to them.
Now, more than forty years later, Melvin J. Ballard was aboard a ship sailing for Buenos Aires, where he and his two companions, Elders Rulon G. Wells and Parley P. Pratt, were to open a mission for the South American people. As he walked along the windswept deck of the steamship Voltaire, he thought he finally understood the words of the inspired patriarch many years before, for he felt that the promise of his blessing was about to be fulfilled.
The steamship docked at Buenos Aires early on the morning of December 6, 1925, and that very afternoon the three elders met with twelve adults and four children who were interested in learning more about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
On December 12 Melvin recorded in his diary: “Just as the sun was going down, I baptized six people in the Rio de la Plata, the first in this generation in South America.” The next day the six were confirmed in a meeting, and at that meeting the sacrament was administered for the first time in South America.
Christmas night of that same year Melvin again wrote in his diary: “The sun came up at 4:41. We were up at 5. We arrived at Park 3 de Febrero at a place near the river in a grove of weeping willows at 7 A.M. We sang ‘The Morning Breaks.’ Brother Pratt read several passages from the Book of Mormon on promises of redemption of the Lamanites. Brother Wells read from the Bible. We all knelt under a weeping willow tree, and I offered prayer.”
Here is part of the prayer Elder Ballard offered:
We are grateful to come to this great land of South America to unlock the door for the preaching of the gospel. We thank thee for the few who have received us and for those we have had the joy of taking into the waters of baptism in this land. May they be the first fruits of a glorious harvest.
As Melvin J. Ballard left Buenos Aires, Argentina, on July 4, 1926, he reported to the members of the Church who had gathered to say goodbye that “the work of the Lord will grow slowly for a time. It will not shoot up in a day as does the sunflower that grows quickly and then dies. But thousands will join the Church here.”
This promise has been fulfilled many times over in Argentina and other South American “Book of Mormon countries.” Today the seed of Manasseh comprise a great part of the Church in this land as well as in other parts of the world.

Ombeni frowned down at his lunch tray. The food at his new school was way too sweet. He wished he could just eat his mom’s homemade rice and beans.
Ombeni and his family had only lived in the United States for a few weeks. Their home country was too dangerous to live in, so they had to move to the USA as refugees. Moving was hard. Getting used to his new school was hard too.
Ombeni found an empty spot near a group of boys and sat down. They all turned to look at him. One boy said something, but Ombeni couldn’t understand him. He didn’t know much English yet.
Ombeni tried to say something back. “Jambo,” he said. (“Hello.”)
The boy looked confused. He frowned at Ombeni and turned away. Ombeni felt like curling up into a little ball, but he just sat quietly at the end of the table. Sometimes it felt like he was on an alien planet in this new school.
When school was finally over, Ombeni hurried and zipped up his coat. Back home, he never needed a coat, no matter what time of year it was. But here it was cold in the winter. The other children put on fuzzy gloves and hats, but Ombeni didn’t have any of those things.
Ombeni could see his breath in little white puffs of air as he walked. He started to run so he could get home faster. He burst through the front door and almost ran into Mama.
“Ombeni! Punguza mwendo!” she said. (“Slow down!”)
“Sorry, Mama,” he said, shivering.
Ombeni sat down and tried to warm up while his mom cooked dinner.
After a few minutes, Ombeni couldn’t stay quiet anymore. “Mama, I don’t want to go back to school! It’s scary and lonely, and I can’t make any friends. I miss my friends back home.”
Mama stopped stirring and knelt down next to Ombeni. He quickly wiped away his tears. He didn’t want Mama to see how sad he was.
“I know things are hard right now.” Mama gave him a warm hug. “But they will get easier.”
Ombeni looked away. “But how are things supposed to get easier if I can’t understand anyone?”
Mama frowned. Ombeni could tell she was thinking hard.
“Remember when we were in the refugee camp?” she asked. “Whenever I felt really lonely, I would look for people I could help. It always made me feel better.”
Ombeni nodded. He remembered how Mama would always find people who came to the camp alone and show them where to go.
Mama smiled. “And think about Jesus! People were often mean to Him. But He always looked for people to help.” She wiped another tear from Ombeni’s face. “Sometimes when we’re sad, the best thing we can do to help ourselves is look for ways to help other people.”
Ombeni nodded. That sounded like a good idea. He wanted to be like Jesus.
The next day at lunch, Ombeni looked for someone to help. Lots of kids were sitting with big groups of people. Then he noticed a girl who was sitting at a table by herself.
He walked over to her and set his tray down. He waved and said, “Jambo!”
“Hi,” she said.
Ombeni smiled big. The girl smiled back. Then they quietly ate their food together.
Ombeni felt happy. Things at this new school were still going to be hard. But he was glad to know there were people here he could help.

Many years ago it was my privilege to provide a blessing to a beautiful 12-year-old young lady, Jami Palmer. She had just been diagnosed with cancer. She learned that her leg where the cancer was would require multiple surgeries. A long-planned hike with her Young Women class up a rugged trail was out of the question, she thought.

Jami told her friends they would have to hike without her. I’m confident there was disappointment in her heart.

But then the other young women responded emphatically, “No, Jami, you are going with us!”

“But I can’t walk,” came the reply.

“Then we’ll carry you to the top!” And they did.

None of those precious young women will ever forget that memorable day when a loving Heavenly Father looked down with a smile of approval and was well pleased.

As I was trying to come to terms with everything, I knew the bishop was being prompted to talk to me about my mission papers. I just knew. I had never mentioned it to anyone, but I knew he was also getting the vibes. But I still needed time to adjust and come to terms with everything, so I started dodging him.
If I saw him in the corridor at Church, I’d dive into a classroom and hide until he passed. I’d watch him and stay out of his vicinity—terrible, but I thought this would gain me more time. But one Sunday I was walking up the corridor only to find the bishop walking towards me. No one else was there. I couldn’t hide or dive away. I was nabbed, pure and simple.
The bishop simply said, “Can you come with me for a minute? I’ve got to give you something”. I was hoping the something was to do with my Primary or activities committee callings, but he walked into the clerk’s office, opened the filing cabinet, and handed me my mission papers. He said, “You need to fill these in, and send them.” I said, “I knew you knew!” When I told him that I had been deliberately dodging and hiding from him, he laughed and said he wondered why he could never find me.

“Cami asked me if I wanted to go to church. At first I thought, no, I didn’t really want to. Then I decided that since I hadn’t been baptized into any church, I ought to start looking around and seeing what I believe in. I went with Cami, and the things I was taught I believed, so I started going to church more often. When I had the missionary lessons, I felt I was ready to be baptized.”
Tami HowellLong Beach California East Stake

On October 19th the Hunt wagons caught up with the Martin handcart pioneers in mid-Wyoming. “Many of them were quite worn out,” Barnard noted. That evening the Hunt, the Martin, and the Hodgett wagon train companies marshalled courage and crossed the frigid Platte River. Of the harrowing crossing Elizabeth recalled: “Our company camped on the east side and the handcart company passed over that night. All our able-bodied men turned out to help them carry women and children across the river. Some of our men went through the river 75 times.” By then Barnard’s leather boots probably had been soaked, frozen, and thawed many times.
That night many of the soaked river-crossers suffered severely from the cold. About seven inches of snow fell by morning. “Their suffering was intense that night,” Barnard said of the handcart Saints. “The next morning there were 13 dead bodies in camp.”
For a week the companies camped, waiting for the snow blanket to melt and icy winds to stop. The handcart people, tired and overexposed to snow and cold, sagged. “They would rather die than live,” Barnard observed. “They appeared to be like a lot of worn-out cattle and had no feeling for anything except to eat and die. I cannot find language to express the sufferings of those people, and God forbid that I should ever witness such scenes again.” The Hunt train shared its dwindling food with the handcart sufferers.

While the Prophet respected young people, he expected them to behave respectably. Goudy E. Hogan, as a fourteen-year-old, sat behind Joseph Smith during a Sunday meeting in the grove near the Nauvoo Temple. He watched while the Prophet interrupted the elder who was speaking and told the congregation that “he wished some of those young men on the outside of the congregation that were making disturbance by talking loud to the young ladies would not do so but wait and go to their homes and speak to them by the consent of their parents.” Evidently the disturbance continued, so Joseph walked down through the congregation to talk to the youths. “There was no more disturbance in that meeting,” added Hogan.

When you look at Jason Nicholl’s medical history, it’s no wonder he eventually wants to become a doctor. He’s certainly visited enough of them in his life. Even less surprising is the fact Jason worked as an emergency medical technician before leaving to serve a full-time mission in the Nevada Las Vegas Mission. After being helped for all these years, he figures he needs to start giving back and helping others.
“I’ve always been a klutz. On every Scout campout, I’d do something to hurt myself,” says Jason. Let’s see, there was the time he sliced off the top of his finger while closing a pocketknife. There was the speed-cutting contest where he was chopping with an ax that hit a knot in the log, flew up, and embedded itself in his ankle.
He’d like to remember the time he was night skiing when one of his skis came off, hit him in the face, broke his nose and knocked him out. He spent four days in the hospital, but he’s still a little foggy about that episode.
Besides his nose, Jason has broken two of his ribs, his arm, his hand, and his foot. To this day he can’t tell you how many fingers he’s broken. “Countless,” he says. But as the youngest emergency medical technician for an ambulance company in Salt Lake City, Jason began working toward the goal he’s had since he was six years old. “One day when I was six, I was sitting in front of the TV watching this health channel where they were showing some surgical procedure. It fascinated me,” Jason recalls. “That’s when I decided I wanted to be a doctor.”
Jason knows he has a lot of schooling ahead of him once he returns from his mission. However, he’s already learned much about the body because of the training he has received as an EMT. Many EMTs use their training as stepping-stones to jobs in law enforcement or related medical careers.
In fact, when Jason returns from his mission, he hopes to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a paramedic. While EMTs are trained in basic life support, paramedics know advanced life support techniques and are able to perform emergency procedures EMTs can’t. Jason sees this as the next logical step toward his ultimate career goal.
He knows that after spending two years as a missionary, it will take some time to get his skills back when he returns. But it’s a tradeoff he’s willing to make. “I believe in the gospel and I believe in the work,” Jason says.
Besides, when he gets back he’ll have the rest of his life ahead of him.

Speaking under the influence of the Holy Ghost and within the limits of his or her responsibility, a person may be inspired to predict what will come to pass in the future. The one who holds the office of the prophet, seer, and revelator prophesies for the Church, as when Joseph Smith prophesied concerning the Civil War (see D&C 87) and foretold that the Saints would become a mighty people in the Rocky Mountains. Prophecy is part of the calling of a patriarch. Each of us is also privileged occasionally to receive prophetic revelation illuminating future events in our lives, like a Church calling we are to receive. To cite another example, after our fifth child was born, my wife and I did not have any more children. After more than 10 years we concluded that our family would not be any larger, which grieved us. Then one day, while my wife was in the temple, the Spirit whispered to her that she would have another child. That prophetic revelation was fulfilled about a year and a half later with the birth of our sixth child, for whom we had waited 13 years.

How do three lovely young ladies who are completely deaf speak fluently with confidence and joy?
The answer? With patient faith, hard work, and tender help from parents, sisters, teachers, and their Heavenly Father.
The Ferguson sisters, Deborah, 23, Julie-Ann, 18, and Heather, 15 are from Bangor Branch, Belfast Northern Ireland Stake, and were born with hearing impairments. Two more sisters, Amanda, 22, and Gail, 20, along with parents Peter and Lillian have normal hearing. The girls’ grandparents were also born deaf and mute.
But communication is no problem for this outstanding family. Trust in the Lord and determination are working miracles in their lives.
Proof of this is abundant in Deborah’s many achievements. Her happy personality and eagerness to live life to the fullest have overcome some hearing problems. Since graduating from seminary, she has participated in the Church Scouting program, serving in assistant leadership positions.
Among other hard-earned awards are trophies of all shapes and sizes for numerous sports, including soccer, badminton, squash, and swimming.
“When we held a youth dance festival,” said Young Women president Sister Geddis, “Deborah was the best at keeping on the beat, moving perfectly with the music.” Deborah explains, “Although I can’t hear sound, I feel vibrations through the floor, and with care I can dance as well as anyone else.”
Whether dancing or studying, no obstacles will prevent Deborah from enjoying every program the Church has to offer. “I hope to be a missionary,” she says. “I love to serve and have a great desire to spread the gospel amongst other people with hearing disabilities.”
Her younger sister Amanda feels the same way. Although able to hear perfectly herself, she has seen her family achieve goals they have set and she is determined to help others less fortunate. She is taking a three-year university course in sign language for the deaf so that she will be qualified to interpret and teach.
“I’d like to begin by sharing the gospel with my grandparents, aunt, and uncles who are also deaf,” Amanda explains. “I feel they’re missing so much. I’d love to help them learn the truth.”
Learning plays an important part in sister Gail’s life too—especially in seminary. “It’s a great program. I gain such a lot. Reading the experiences of people in the scriptures has helped me appreciate my own family and their present struggles.”
Gail has an outstanding talent for dealing with children. Acting as “ears” for younger sisters for many years, she has developed patience, kindness, and sharp sensitivity to others’ needs.
Those listening ears are greatly missed by Julie-Ann and Heather for many months each year. These two leave home and family behind and attend school at the renowned Mary Hare United Kingdom Grammar School for the Deaf in Newbury, England. Due to the high academic standards, for one pupil to be accepted at this outstanding school is an accomplishment, but for two from the same family to attend is almost a miracle.
“Letting the children be educated so far away has been a traumatic experience for us all,” Brother Ferguson says. “But through prayer we found comfort and confirmation that our decision was right.”
“We all send letters once or twice a week,” says Julie-Ann, “and there’s a special telephone at school which allows three-way conversations between pupil, interpreter, and parent, so we don’t have to go too long without help from home on any problem.”
“Brother and Sister Williams from Newbury Branch pick us up for church each Sunday,” says Heather. “We enjoy that. There’s a lovely feeling among the members.”
“I love learning everything I can about the Savior and his church,” says Julie-Ann. “I do home-study seminary, and it always helps me. I find sacrament meetings a bit frustrating sometimes, especially when I can’t understand every word the speakers say. People are kind and write things down for me, but often speakers go too fast for me to get all the details.”
Both girls are excellent lip readers, however. In addition, they use hearing aids. They are becoming so expert at understanding others that they are even learning another language—French. “It’s difficult,” says Heather. “I have to concentrate much harder than students with normal hearing.”
Reading music has been part of their lives since infancy. “Our mother used to point out how notes go up and down in hymnbooks at church,” says Julie-Ann, “and if the congregation doesn’t sing louder than the piano, I can pick out the beat and sing hymns.”
“We play recorders the same way,” comments Heather. “I feel pulsation of sound through my feet and legs, and with plenty of practice, we get the tunes right. We have a good orchestra here.”
Although Julie-Ann, Heather, and Deborah use their talents to achieve results in life equal to, and often better than, those of people without hearing impairments, they are sometimes disappointed and hurt by the attitudes of many people towards their disability.
“I prefer to be treated just like everyone else,” Heather says. “It’s really embarrassing when I’m in a crowd and someone starts speaking to me very slowly, waving their arms to emphasize what they are saying. It’s as if they think I am stupid and couldn’t understand them otherwise.”
“Yes,” agrees Julie-Ann, “it’s nice to be accepted as part of the group, spoken to normally, and not stared at as if we’re odd. I often feel like telling people, ‘I’m exactly the same inside as you are.’ It makes me heartbroken and depressed when they are afraid or don’t want to understand me.”
“That’s right,” Heather adds. “I don’t always understand a question the first time someone asks. If I ask them to repeat it, they often say, ‘Oh, never mind,’ and go away! I’d rather they try again and again, so we can learn about each other. I don’t like brief conversations with only ‘Hi!’ or ‘How are you doing?’ I’d prefer to talk properly, long discussions, not too fast or too slow, but real conversations with facial expression and feeling.”
Perhaps because of a certain isolation that deafness creates for them, all three girls have developed a close, personal relationship with their Heavenly Father.
“I talk to the Lord in prayer much of the time,” says Julie-Ann. “I feel the presence of the Holy Spirit strongly and am constantly grateful for the promptings I receive. We watched a video of general conference. During remarks about keeping high standards and avoiding friendships with the wrong crowd, I felt so warm inside as the Spirit testified this was important advice. I could have cried. I didn’t want that wonderful feeling to go away.”
The Fergusons seem to be a part of fulfilling prophecy. In Isaiah 29:18, the prophet wrote, “In that day shall the deaf hear the words of the book.” [Isa. 29:18] Not only are the Fergusons hearing the truth of the gospel themselves, they are becoming well educated and prepared to share those words with all who care to listen with ears, eyes, hands, and hearts.