Gospel Story Finder

I wanted to join the Church, but I also didn’t want to make my mom mad. My mom played a big role in my decisions while I was growing up. She was a minister, so I constantly listened to her instead of going to church and learning for myself.
I was a little hesitant when we set a date for my baptism. The missionaries came over, and we talked about it.
Finally, I asked my daughter, Aryanna, “Do you want to be baptized?”
She said, “Mom, I’m ready whenever you are.”
She told me that when she went to church, all the girls ran and greeted her. They took her to Primary classes and were always friendly. They wanted her to be part of things. She became really good friends with one of the girls. That’s what she enjoyed about it.
At Aryanna’s baptism, she cried tears of joy. When I saw her, I thought, I’m where I need to be.

For Tanner, Easter would not be the same this year. His grandpa had died, and Tanner was sad he would never share this special time with him again.
But during Primary, Tanner was reminded that the reason we celebrate Easter is because Jesus lives! When He was resurrected, His spirit was forever reunited with His body, never to experience death again. Tanner learned that because Jesus was resurrected, everyone would be resurrected someday, including his grandpa!
An Easter song filled Tanner with happiness as he sang: “Jesus has risen, Jesus, our friend. Joy fills our hearts; He lives again.”1 Tanner wanted to share this good news with everyone. He decided that before Easter, he would place on his neighbors’ doorsteps small bundles of spring flowers with scriptures about Jesus’s Resurrection. He imagined the smiles on their faces when they found his gift on Easter morning.

A highlight for me was Interlochen, located on a lake in Michigan, one of the best music camps in the world for kids. I sent in my application for the eight weeks of intensive music training and couldn’t believe I got accepted.
The only problem was money. It cost thousands of dollars, and there was no way I’d have time to make that much before the deadline. So I prayed and prayed, and about a week before I had to send in the money, I was called into the office of a man who had a grant for someone with a handicap who was pursuing the arts. That, to me, was a miracle, and I’m really grateful for it. Someday, I’m going to help a musician like that.

One of our daughters, after giving birth to a baby, became seriously ill. We prayed for her, administered to her, and supported her as best we could. We hoped she would receive a blessing of healing, but days turned into months, and months turned into years. At one point I told her that this affliction might be something she would have to struggle with the rest of her life.
One morning I remember pulling out a small card and threading it through my typewriter. Among the words that I typed for her were these: “The simple secret is this: put your trust in the Lord, do your best, then leave the rest to Him.”
She did put her trust in God. But her affliction did not disappear. For years she suffered, but in due course, the Lord blessed her, and eventually she returned to health.
Knowing this daughter, I believe that even if she had never found relief, yet she would have trusted in her Heavenly Father and “[left] the rest to Him.”

The first story occurred many years ago when I was in graduate school studying economics. I took a course from a very famous and prominent professor named John Dunlop. I studied hard in that course, and I prepared diligently for the final exam. I also prayed for help and guidance. The day for the exam came. The final exam in that course was unusual. Instead of giving us essay questions or problems to work, Professor Dunlop simply gave us two recently published papers and asked us to critique them. I began to read. As I read, I experienced something I will never forget. I saw clearly, as though someone had laid it all out before me, exactly what the authors were trying to do, where the weaknesses in their argument were, and what I should write about their work. I began to write. I wrote and wrote and wrote. The words just flowed. It was like there was a conduit running from my brain down my arm through my hand into the pen and onto the paper. It felt like the words were just flowing down the conduit. I then picked up the second paper, and the same thing happened. I knew as it happened that the Lord had blessed me beyond my own ability. I experienced what the Prophet Joseph once called “pure intelligence” flowing from the Spirit to teach me and help me. At the end of that exam I knew that what was written in those blue books was beyond my own capacity.

It has been 31 years since that experience. I have had that experience many times since. I hope and pray that I shall have it many times in the future. As I look back on the day of that exam, I can see the hand of the Lord at work. Because of that exam Professor Dunlop opened many doors for me. Those experiences bear witness to me of the truth of the promises of the Lord, and of the importance of seeking knowledge and learning by study and by faith.

When I got back from my mission, I met a beautiful lady named Sandra Joelene Lyon at stake conference. We both attended Idaho State University in Pocatello but lived in Blackfoot. The best part about commuting was that Sandra and I carpooled in the same group. I could tell she was one of God’s precious daughters, and I knew she was the right one for me to marry. One day I sat next to her in the car and said, “You know, you really ought to write your missionary a ‘Dear John’ letter because you know you’re going to marry me anyway.” It wasn’t quite that simple, but after a couple of years we were married.
We got engaged in December, which makes Christmas especially meaningful. Being married for eternity is the greatest gift we could have given each other. My wife is a wonderful blessing as she provides gifts of love to me, our children, their spouses, and our grandchildren. Her love does much to keep our family united.

Even Maricar Mendoza, who admits she’s somewhat shy, didn’t hesitate to raise her hand when her teacher asked who in the class wasn’t Catholic. Maricar felt she had to speak up. “I said, ‘Ma’am, I’m a Mormon.’ I explained to her what our church is, and I was able to discuss a lot of things, such as latter-day prophets, Joseph Smith, and the plan of salvation.”

Maricar still considers herself shy. But she’s glad she spoke up.

A few weeks ago there appeared in our local newspaper the account of a woman who while reading a magazine in her doctor's office waiting room read of an "Exemplary Husband " contest being sponsored by the magazine and inviting entries to be submitted for the contest. The woman returned home, wrote a description of the admirable traits of her thoughtful husband and without informing him she mailed it and immediately forgot about her entry.

Several weeks later she was notified that her entry had been selected as a finalist in the contest. Her husband was embarrassed and she was justifiably pleased and proud. Listen to her description of her husband written in her entry.

As I read the account of this wonderful couple I was thrilled as I'm certain others were also. I don't know that they are members of the Church, but the power of their example is so desperately needed and appreciated regardless of religious affiliation. O how this world that lacks so much kindness and civility in marriage is blessed by the example of that couple and so many others like them.

Let me illustrate this. One day when I was working on the standard plan temple, and it was about 4:00 in the afternoon; the manager of the Architecture and Engineering division came into my room and said to me: "Oh, by the way, I need the art glass design, for the temple windows, because I will be presenting it to members of the first presidency and the presiding bishopric at 11 a.m. tomorrow." He wished me good luck and left for the day. Can you imagine how, I felt as he walked away. Have you ever dealt with individuals like this? Interesting thing, I had no idea this was needed until just at that moment.

I worked about three or four hours on the design, but I could not come up with what, I felt, would be deserving of the Lord's Temple. I was in a panic and came to a point where I dropped to my knees and pleaded to my Heavenly Father that I needed his help, and that I had reached a limit on what I could do in such a short time. Now I debated about sharing this today because of the sacredness to me of this moment; however, I felt within my heart that I should share this.

As I was pouring my heart out to him, my mind was opened up and it was if the dews of Heaven came down upon me and pure thought poured into my mind and soul. I knew what the glass panels would look like and what the meaning would be. I closed my prayer and immediately began drawing what I had seen in my mind's eye. I spent a few hours putting together the presentation and placed the design on the manager's desk and left for home.

In the afternoon, the manager came in my office and said that they wanted to go ahead with the Art Glass Design. I indicated I was glad and if I had any doubt as I was thinking to myself what had happened the night before. Brothers and Sisters, I am not brilliant and I am not gifted, but the Lord, in such a short time, brought me up to the level I needed to be and at that moment.

• Moscow, Russia, Monday, June 24: The third “Music and the Spoken Word” performance is videotaped during this evening’s Bolshoi Theatre concert before 2,400, seated three-deep in the five circular balcony tiers of this renowned hall. For many, another rich, emotional evening occurs, the same as at all concerts in the former Eastern Bloc lands. Hope and the Spirit of the Lord seem to press everywhere!
The first encore, “Hospodi Pomilui” (meaning “Lord, have mercy on us”), a hymn during which that phrase is repeated seventy-seven times, seems this night to be as a great prayer of national penance in this land that has been seen by many as a symbol of oppression. The choir’s great, emotional pleading of the words powerfully moves the entire audience.
At the dinner of state held after the concert, the vice president of the Russian Republic announces that on May 28, less than a month ago, this largest of the fifteen republics in the Soviet Union has given official recognition to the Church throughout the entire breadth and depth of the republic, which covers three-quarters of the land mass of the Soviet Union and holds approximately 150 million people.
Elder Dallin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve joins the choir entourage, enlarged this day by the hundred or more Utahns joining Brother Jon M. Huntsman in the dedication of a factory in Armenia that will produce high-tech concrete to house homeless Armenians suffering from a 1988 earthquake. In appreciation for the service the Church rendered to quake victims, a plot of land in the city of Yerevan is given to the Church by officials of the Armenian Soviet Socialist Republic. Elder Russell M. Nelson and Elder Dallin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve and Elder Hans B. Ringger of the Seventy express gratitude for the gift. The site will be used to construct a multipurpose building containing offices, a Church meetinghouse, and residences for Church volunteer workers helping to train Armenians in home construction.
• St. Petersburg, Russia, Thursday, June 27: How is it possible for the emotional, spiritual, and musical highs to keep on going! Tonight six encores are performed to a cheering, crying audience! For the second time, an audience will not stop clapping until the last choir member has walked offstage, audience and choir members poignantly waving good-bye to each other.
“Wonderful! Wonderful! Spiritual! Spiritual! Leningrad is happy again! This is a holiday,” calls out a man in strongly Russian-accented English. The concerts are now over. But a day remains for visiting new Russian friends and tomorrow’s closing fireside of choir music and the testimonies of Russian converts. Elder Nelson tells the choir: “You have been totally successful in all we expected you to do.”

My parents separated when I was born. I was three months old when I left Chile by ship with my mother, crossed the Strait of Magellan, and landed in Uruguay where I was raised. I knew who my father was but did not know if my father really loved me. I still have the two or three cryptic letters he wrote to me, generally responses to eager letters from me.
Like Joseph, I longed for my father’s love. When I became a teenager, the need to have this love was exacerbated. My heart became hungry for a father’s understanding. During those years, my rebellious, angry statement, “I do not have a father,” only meant, “I wish I had one.” It was then that I found the missionaries of the Church, and they taught me the gospel.
I still remember the first discussion. Elder Giles asked me to read the first scripture I ever read. “Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God” (Eph. 2:19).
That day I found my family and my Father in Heaven. The scripture told me that He, my Heavenly Father, was yet alive.

“President,” said another member of the branch who was a recent convert, “I guess I should move away from home. There is growing tension between Mom and me. It seems to be getting worse all the time.” A tear paused at the corner of her eye. “I’ve tried to get her to listen to the missionaries, but she just becomes angry.”
“Cyndi,” I said, “have you ever told your mother how much you love her, recently, that is? Have you put your arms around her to give her a good squeeze as you have told her how much you appreciate her and all she has done for you?”
“But I want her to come into the Church so badly, I just keep talking about it.”
I interrupted. “Did it ever occur to you that you could never have become a member of this church if it hadn’t been for your mother?”
“But she didn’t want me to join.”
“You wouldn’t even have come into this world if it hadn’t been for your mother. She and your dad gave you the body you have. Your parents brought you up to appreciate the gospel truth when you heard it. They taught you righteous principles so that when you heard the message of the restoration you accepted it. Did you ever consider how many nights your mother may have been awake when you were ill, or how many hours she may have devoted to your care? Have you ever really thanked her for all of these things? Have you ever let her know how proud you are to have her as your mother?”
“But,” she said, “why would Mom be so opposed to the Church?”
“Would you love someone,” I asked, “if you thought that person was going to take your child, or your child’s love, away from you? Your mother might be worried that the Church is doing this.”
“I guess I’ve never thought of it that way,” she said.
“Tell me, what does the Church teach us about our parents?”
“Honor thy father and thy mother.”
“That’s right. Let’s forget about getting your mother to join the Church for now. Think of all the ways you can express your love for her. Throw your arms around her and tell her how grateful you are for all she has done for you.
“Next, show her how much you honor her by helping her in every way. Extend little courtesies to her. As you recall the little kindnesses, the tenderness, and understanding that she has given you over the years, remind her of these and thank her for them.
“Assure her that the Church does not intend to take you away from her. Show her by your conduct that the gospel of Jesus Christ has given you a greater appreciation and love for your parents. It should draw you closer together than ever before.”
The next time I saw Cyndi she was exuberant. “Things have never been better at home. Mom and I are closer than we have ever been in our lives. I love her so much, and she feels better about the Church now.”

It's good to follow the straight and narrow path; it's quite another matter to do so when confronted with much opposition.

Tom Foster listened to the missionaries a number of years ago in his native Virginia. He listened, he prayed, and he received a witness of the truthfulness of the gospel. Nearly all of his family and friends were very opposed to his decision, but he chose to be baptized anyway. He found it exceptionally difficult to deal with the ridicule from so many of those he loved and cared about. He felt very alone much of the time in those early days.

Yet, he was faithful, diligent, magnified his callings, and responded instantly to the needs of everyone he knew. He encouraged and inspired others to live better themselves. He was constantly cheerful and upbeat despite the pain he felt inside. He did all this despite the lack of support from many in his family and his former friends. Over the years, he has earned the love, respect, and admiration of all who know him. When asked how he was able to keep moving forward despite the tremendous opposition he faced, he remarked simply, "I know the gospel is true and I'm willing to give up everything to follow the Savior and do what He wants me to do!"

President Ezra Taft Benson taught us, " That man is greatest and most blessed and joyful whose life most closely approaches the pattern of the Christ....The only true test of greatness...is how close a life can come to being like the Master, Jesus Christ. He is the right way, the full truth, and the abundant life." ( Ensign , December 1988, p. 2)

By that standard, Tom Foster was and is still a great man!

When I was a young mother of several small children, at the end of days filled with diapering, dish washing, and disciplining, no one sang more emphatically the Primary song “I’m so glad when daddy comes home.”15 I’m sad to admit, however, I was not always cheerful when Craig seemed to bounce through the door after a hard day of work. He always greeted each of us with a hug and kiss and turned many difficult and sometimes disastrous days into delightful daddy times. I wish I had been a little less preoccupied with the endless list of to-dos still to be done and had more wisely focused, like he did, on things that mattered most. I would have stopped more often and enjoyed sacred family time and would have thanked him more often for blessing our lives!

Junjiro, Steve, and Cassidy know what it is like to be elders. They did, after all, just come home from missions. Now, at school, they were all set to throw themselves into their education when a new learning experience presented itself. They were called to serve as the elders quorum presidency in the BYU–Hawaii First Ward.
“I was excited about the calling because I felt like the Lord trusted me,” said elders quorum president Junjiro Makise, originally from Japan. “I knew He would not give me a calling that I could not handle. And I could do something to help all the members of the ward.”
Called to serve as counselors were Stephen Dangerfield from Moscow, Idaho, and Cassidy Matthew from the Marshall Islands. Alvin Singh is the secretary. The new presidency set out to learn how to be leaders. They followed the pattern they had learned in the Aaronic Priesthood and while on their missions—they turned to the scriptures and to the Lord in prayer.
“I had a good example in my life,” said Junjiro. “That was my father. He had been the bishop and the stake president when I was growing up. He said that in a leadership position, you have to be an example and participate in everything. It’s not just telling the members what to do but showing by example. You have to do all the things that you ask them to do. You have to be at the activity or at the service project. Then they will do the things you ask them to do more willingly because they know you are doing them as well.”
“My father always drove me to Church activities,” said Junjiro. “Sometimes I just wanted to stay home and play with my friends, but he was always there to take me. Because of my father, I developed the habit of participating in all Church activities. To me, he was what a leader should be.”
Junjiro follows his father’s advice. If he asks the members of the quorum to volunteer for service or to teach a lesson or come to an activity, he is there himself offering support. He said, “Before my calling, I didn’t know the members of my quorum very well. Now I worry about how I can help them to do their part.”
When Junjiro was called, he approached the Lord, as the bishop suggested, in deciding upon his counselors. Two names came up: Stephen Dangerfield and Cassidy Matthew. He felt the influence of the Spirit in asking to serve with these fine young men.
Steve had been serving as a district supervisor for home teaching. “I knew he was on top of things and would get things done,” said Junjiro. Cassidy was newly called as the membership clerk in the ward. But when Junjiro talked to the bishop about him, the bishop said if that’s what the Lord wants, then that’s how it will be. The presidency is united in their goal to serve the elders of their ward.
Steve said, “I think the biggest thing you learn in this sort of position is how significant each person is. It doesn’t need a huge effort on each person’s part, just doing home teaching or coming to activities. It’s fulfilling your responsibilities. You don’t need to go beyond what you’re asked to do. But just doing what you are assigned makes an amazing difference.”
The first challenge facing this presidency was just getting to know all the members of their quorum. Since they are all students, turnover is significant. People finish a semester or a school year and then return home or go on to school in other places.
At first, the quorum was combined from three wards for the summer semester. “Our quorum,” said Steve, “is a good bunch of guys. They all want to be friends.”
On Sundays, Steve often has to assign the quorum to service or welfare projects. He appreciates those who are willing to serve. “They are valiant—or they have flexible schedules,” said Steve, with a smile. The presidency strives to include everyone and leave no individual overlooked.
For Cassidy, it was a surprise when he was called to the presidency. “I got a call asking me to come for an interview with the bishop,” said Cassidy. “I knew something was going to happen, but I didn’t know what it was. I had served in the elders quorum presidency in my small branch back home in the Marshall Islands before my mission, and I learned a lot. But here, in such a large quorum, I have learned even more.
“The thing that has impressed me most was when we looked at all the names on the list and discussed what we were going to do to help each person. It meant a lot to me that we were talking about the needs of each person. It hit me that I was thinking more about others than I was about myself.”
Even in a student ward, this elders quorum presidency is young. But they all see it as a chance to grow. “There are a lot of people in the ward,” said Junjiro, “who know more than we do, and they know more about how to run activities. At first, we looked at our weaknesses. They are hard to get over, but then we gained confidence, and now we just need to keep going.”
And that’s just how this presidency is working. They are pushing ahead, getting to know everyone, trying to get them all involved, finding ways to help fulfill the needs of those in the ward. They are leading by example.

May I share, as best I can recall it, an experience I had several years ago. I was teaching a large institute class during the hippy era. One evening, partway through the class, a student, whom I knew but who had not attended class before, walked in. I was surprised to see her. She had with her a young man. The young man came wearing a pair of bib overalls, no shirt, no shoes and had long, unkempt hair. The two sat down in the back of the room and the minute class was over they were gone. I thought that was probably the last I would see of her for awhile and I would probably never see him again. To my surprise they attended the next few classes. In one particular class the lesson was on prayer. As you know it can be intimidating to be called on to pray at the end of a lesson on prayer. You want to say it just right. As we were about to conclude the lesson I felt I should call upon this young man to pray and I thought, “that is crazy.” But the impression was there and so without the courage to even look at the young man, I announced that he would give the closing prayer. To my surprise, he stood. I cannot duplicate his prayer nor should I try, but I would like to give you a feel, from my perception, of what happened. He closed his eyes and said something like this, “God, I guess that’s your name, this is strange, I’m not even sure you are there, but I hope you are, I would like to believe you are. I’m not quite sure what all this is about. You know I’ve been lost and confused and I really do not understand much about life. I have felt something really different and wonderful here and I would like to know if you are really there and if I really am your son. Is it possible for you to let me know that?”

I don’t need to tell you there wasn’t a dry eye in the class. I don’t know that I had ever heard anyone talk to God as openly and honestly as this young man did. It wasn’t very long before he had a testimony and asked to be baptized. At his baptism he bore his testimony. It wasn’t an eloquent testimony in terms of the words or the length. He simply said something like, “I know there is a God, I know He loves me, I have never been happier and I am excited to be baptized.”

A couple of weeks later as I was walking down the hallway of the Church on a Sunday morning, I could see this young man coming toward me. He was wearing a dress coat, a shirt, tie, (none of which matched very well) and had a missionary type hair cut. He came running up to me and said, “Today is one of the most exciting days of my life. Do you know why?” I said “No, tell me.” He said, “Today I am going to get the priesthood. Brother Moore, do I look like a priesthood man?” Despite the mismatched clothes, he looked like a priesthood man to me. The spiritual knowledge this young man had come to know completely changed him and the direction of his life.

“Someone’s sure kicking up the dust, Papa. Do you think he’s rushing here to buy our apples?” David asked as he nudged his father’s arm.
David’s father raised his hand to his eyes, squinting into the sunlight. He watched the approaching horse and rider. “I guess word has got around that we have the best apples in the county,” he teased.
“John Chidester!” yelled the man on horseback. The rider waved to signal to John and his son to stop.
“Here, David. You take over,” Papa said as he handed the reins to his son. “I’ll get ready for our customer.” He climbed over the backboard and into the wagon.
As the approaching horse drew near, David exclaimed, “Papa, it’s the Prophet!”
The horse slowed to a trot as it neared the slow-moving wagon. “John, I need your help!”
“Brother Joseph! What can I get for you today? A dozen apples, maybe two?”
“I need the whole wagon!” the Prophet exclaimed. He pulled the reins on his horse and slid off the saddle. “A mob is coming around the bend!” he said as he motioned down the dirt road. “Hide me! Quick!”
“David! Rein the horses!” commanded his father. “Help me rearrange the apples!”
David stopped the horses. He jumped into the back of the wagon and helped his father quickly scoop away armfuls of apples. They made a space big enough to hide a man.
“Hide here,” Papa said. He extended his hand to the Prophet and pulled him into the wagon.
“Thank you, John,” Joseph said. He crawled into the empty space. David and his father covered Joseph Smith with apples.
“Papa, look!” David exclaimed, pointing down the road. “They’re coming!”
Papa climbed out of the wagon. “David, get back onto the wagon seat and turn the wagon around. Take the shortcut back to town. I’ll distract this mob.” Papa mounted Joseph’s horse and galloped off into the opposite direction.
David clicked his tongue at the horses and commanded, “Get home!” The horses trotted toward town. But they were not quick enough. The wagon was soon overtaken by the mob.
“Hey, boy, stop those horses!” shouted a man from behind. David turned to see one of the mob galloping up to the wagon. Other men were close behind. David could not see his father. He felt scared. He pulled the reins on the horses.
“Search the wagon!” commanded the man.
David quickly looked down at the wagon full of apples. To his horror, he noticed the Prophet’s feet poking out of the pile of apples. But it was too late. There was nothing he could do.
Three men got off their horses and ran to the wagon. David silently prayed, Please, Heavenly Father, protect the Prophet. Hide his feet from these men. The men rummaged through the wagon.
“Apples! That’s all that’s here! Just apples!” one of the men shouted to his leader. He turned to David. “Your old man was right, boy,” he sneered. “Bunch of apples. He and his horse didn’t have to be tied up to a tree after all.”
“Joe Smith must be heading to town on foot,” yelled the leader. “Let’s head him off!”
Remounting their horses, the mob galloped off toward Nauvoo.
David was relieved. Heavenly Father, he silently prayed, I thank thee for answering my prayer. David realized that the danger wasn’t over yet. He still had to get the Prophet to safety. And he had to get help for his father. He whipped the reins to start the horses. They again headed toward town.
The wagon came to a fork in the road. David remembered that his father had told him to take the shortcut. He steered the horses to the left.
Suddenly a flash of lightning struck just ahead of the wagon. The horses jumped in fright, and David was thrown backward. He dropped the reins. The horses began to run out of control.
Clinging to the backboard he struggled to reach the reins, pleading to Heavenly Father for help. Finally he managed to lower himself to the footboard and grab the reins. Bracing himself against the seat, he pulled on the reins.
As the horses slowed to a trot, he realized that they had reached Nauvoo. He drove the wagon to the Prophet’s home and delivered him to safety.
“David, that was some ride,” Joseph said as he climbed out of the wagon. He reached up and shook David’s hand. “Thank you. You saved my life.”
“With Heavenly Father’s help,” David answered. “I prayed for protection the whole way. Now I need to help my father.”
“No need to worry about your father, David,” Joseph said. “He seems to be all right.” The Prophet pointed down the road.
David turned to see his father approaching on horseback. “Papa!” David jumped from the wagon and ran to his father. “You’re safe! But how?”
“Some travelers saw me and rescued me,” he said as he dismounted the horse and gave David a hug. “I’m glad you’re safe! How did you get past the mob? Some of those men planned to hide on the shortcut road and take you by surprise.”
“We started down that road, Papa, but there was a lightning strike, and the horses went wild and wouldn’t take the shortcut road. They ran so fast that they nearly toppled the wagon!”
“I believe we were well protected”—Joseph approached them and placed his hand on David’s shoulder—“thanks to your prayers.”

Some time back, I was in Raymond, Alberta, Canada. Debbie, a beautiful teenage girl, spoke at stake conference. Among other things she said, “I want to tell you about a friend I had when I went through high school.” She said she felt homely but her friend told her she was beautiful. When there were dances, he would dance with her. He built her up. She said: “He was my very best friend. He was handsome and popular, and he lived his religion. I never heard him swear, he never violated the Word of Wisdom, and he faithfully went to church.

“It was a good thing that he was a strong member of the Church,” she said, “because I tailed him everywhere he went. I did what he did, and I would have followed him anywhere. I cannot express the love and respect I have for him. I was not his girlfriend, but I sure loved him. He is on a mission now, and we write regularly. He still loves me and is still my best friend. He is my older brother.”

What a blessing it is to the Church when brothers and sisters are filled with that kind of love and respect for each other!

As a teenager I attended stake conference with my parents. Elder Harold B. Lee was the presiding authority and speaker.

My father had been up all night long watering his 10-acre field of strawberries. He was fighting to stay awake and most of the time losing the battle. But he wouldn’t think of staying away from stake conference, especially knowing that Elder Lee would be speaking.

We were all a little surprised when Elder Lee stood and started calling some young women from the audience to share their testimonies. My father, who was usually right about such things, poked me and said, “You’ll be the next speaker.” I thought, Surely he will not call on me. I’m sitting in the first row of the recreation hall. As I looked up the aisle, I realized how far it would be to the pulpit. I was the next to be called. And sure enough, it was the longest walk I’d taken in my life.

I accepted that invitation from Elder Lee, and as I walked back to my seat, dear people in the audience would squeeze my arm or pat my hand. I was lifted by that experience, and we will each be lifted as we gain the courage to accept invitations from the Lord and His leaders. The invitation to walk with the Lord is a long walk.

One Saturday during my mission to Guatemala, my companion and I decided to visit Benita. She and her husband, Isaías, were faithful members of the Church. Isaías was continually in search of ways to bring in enough money to support his family. To supplement his efforts, Benita raised chickens to sell them and their eggs.
When we arrived we could tell that Benita was upset. She explained that, after her husband had gone to work in a distant village, her chickens had all become sick, and one had already died. She knew they could not get by without these chickens. She felt frustrated and helpless.
Trying to console her, we sang some hymns and shared our testimonies. We offered to say a prayer with her. When we said this, her face lit up. She asked me to pray and petition Heavenly Father to bless her chickens. I was caught off guard—I had never thought of chickens as subjects for prayer. But then I thought of Amulek’s admonition to “cry unto [God] … over all your flocks” (Alma 34:20). I realized that Benita’s chickens were her flock.
I gave the prayer, telling Heavenly Father that Benita’s husband was gone, that one of her chickens had died, that the rest were sick, and that she didn’t know what to do. I told Heavenly Father that her heart ached and asked Him to please bless her chickens. Benita thanked us for visiting, and we left.
The next day at church, Benita told us of her chickens’ recovery. Each time I think of Benita, I think of God’s love for us and His desire to bless us—if we will just ask.