Gospel Story Finder

Recently a father of a family of six children, who has had the sole responsibility for raising the family, beginning when the youngest was in diapers, told of the struggles in raising the family alone. One night he came home from work, faced with the problems of being both father and mother and felt unusually burdened with his responsibilities. One of his appreciative little girls, age 12 years, approached him eagerly, after having laid a rock on his dresser, which she had painted at school. On the flat portion of the rock she had written, “Happiness is having a dad who cares.” This painted rock and its sublime message instantly and permanently lightened the burden of this father.

When I was first in Kosovo, I didn't speak the language, and I was in these classes with 100+ children in them, and I honestly didn't know if they were coming to learn music or to watch this American lady make a fool out of herself while trying to teach them. A twelve year old girl approached me and asked if she could translate for me, and I said, "Sure, that would be great." So she started translating all of my classes that summer. Well, the next summer I came back, and instead of translating for me, I said, "Why don't you help me teach?"

And so she started helping me teach the children, and then her friends started coming to me, saying, "Could we help teach?" ”and their friends started coming. Now we had 40 of these teenagers in Kosovo who have made our program so much better. They run every aspect of our program: they teach all of our classes, they write lesson plans, they write reports, and they have gone from being victims to being the people that are changing their country. They're not teenagers that are thinking about themselves and how horrible their lives are. They are thinking about what they can do to help the children. They are changing their country.

Earlier this year Elder Douglas L. Callister and I were in Kiev, capital city of Ukraine. We were there to create the first stake in the former Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. We were pleased to note that the Kiev Ukraine District was well prepared to become a stake—fully organized and ready to take its place among the stakes of Zion. There we also met with the missionaries, among whom were several stalwart senior couples. We listened attentively to their expressions.

We remember the account of Elder Rudi and Sister Eva Hegewald, who grew up in what was then known as East Germany. Speaking with a slight and sweet German accent, they recounted the difficult days of World War II and the subsequent Soviet occupation. They spoke of their many deprivations. Finding the Lord’s true Church and later immigrating to America were counted as treasured blessings. The ensuing years brought them five healthy children, along with spiritual and financial increase. They felt that serving a mission would be a good way for them to show gratitude to the Lord. They expressed a deep desire to serve in Eastern Europe. Their call came to serve in the Ukraine Kiev Mission. Elder and Sister Hegewald write: “Now, close to the end of our mission in the land of our former enemy, we are thankful for the opportunity to teach and love the Ukrainian people. As we have served the Lord, our souls have been healed and our family has become more united. We have had a truly remarkable and satisfying experience and have seen many small miracles.”
Notice that all three couples wrote of their blessings. Another couple tells of blessings that come from missionary service. They wrote: “Good people replaced our parenting functions better than we. … If a family problem has not yielded to prayer and fasting, a mission might be considered.”
No senior missionary finds it convenient to leave. Neither did Joseph or Brigham or John or Wilford. They had children and grandchildren too. They loved their families not one whit less, but they also loved the Lord and wanted to serve Him. Someday we may meet these stalwarts who helped to establish this dispensation. Then will we rejoice that we did not seek the shadows when a call to missionary service came from the prophet, even in the autumn years of our lives.
At general conference in October 1925, President Heber J. Grant issued a clarion call for “men of mature years and sound judgment, who have had experience in the preaching of the gospel, … to go forth and labor in the mission fields.”
That need persists. At the most recent training broadcast to priesthood leaders throughout the world, President Gordon B. Hinckley issued a similar call: “There is a constant need for more couple missionaries,” he said. “They perform wonderful service throughout the world. You [leaders] need not wait for the couples to volunteer. The sacrifices associated with serving the Lord full-time will abundantly bless the couples, their families, and the people they serve.”
Bishops also need to heed that prophetic call and ask such members if they could serve. Opportunities for senior missionaries are varied and vast. Their calls to serve are officially made after prayerful consideration has been given to their occupational background, language experience, and personal capabilities. Of all qualifications to serve, a desire to serve may be the most important. The Lord has declared:
“O ye that embark in the service of God, see that ye serve him with all your heart, might, mind and strength, that ye may stand blameless before God at the last day.
“Therefore, if ye have desires to serve God ye are called to the work.”
Many humble Latter-day Saints fear that they are not qualified for missionary labors. But to such a prospective missionary, the Lord has given this assurance: “Faith, hope, charity and love, with an eye single to the glory of God, qualify him for the work.”
As I extol the work of senior missionaries, I realize that there are many more who would like to serve but are not able to do so. Limitations imposed by age or by poor health deserve realistic appraisal, as do the important needs of family members. When desire burns within yet such limitations exist, you can extend your service through others. They can be your arms and legs, and you can provide needed funds. Still others can contribute time and talents as live-at-home missionaries. Each will be pleasing to the Lord, and each will receive His praise.
All of us may preach the gospel by precept and example. The word gospel means “good news.” The good news is the Lord Jesus Christ and His message of salvation. Jesus equated the gospel with both His mission and with His ministry in mortality. In His mission statement, Jesus said:
“This is the gospel which I have given unto you—that I came into the world to do the will of my Father, because my Father sent me.
“And my Father sent me that I might be lifted up upon the cross.”
The Savior’s mortal mission we know as the Atonement.
The Savior’s mortal ministry includes everything else that He did—His teachings, expressions of love, attention to ordinances, patterns of prayer, perseverance, and more. He lived to be our Exemplar, which He also equated to the gospel in His ministerial statement. “This is my gospel,” He said, “for the works which ye have seen me do that shall ye also do.” Thus, faith; repentance; baptism by water, fire, and of the Holy Ghost; the gathering of the elect; and enduring to the end are all part of the gospel. All of us can emulate the Lord’s example, regardless of age, status, or location.
As one among the “special witnesses of the name of Christ in all the world,” I declare that He is the Son of the living God, our atoning Savior and Redeemer. This is His Church, restored in these latter days to fulfill its divine destiny. His prophet today is President Gordon B. Hinckley. I so testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Sister Yanet Gómez is the living testimony of how great the love of our Heavenly Father is for each of His children, and she manifests the strongest faith and gratitude of a faithful servant.
Despite living with very particular health conditions, Sister Gómez maintains her active service as Young Women president of the La Vega District, in the Dominican Republic. She affirms that although she has lived through so many experiences that have led her to critical states of health, she could never deny the Lord or get angry with Him, rather she feels fortunate to go through all these situations and considers that the Lord allows her to have them so that she can help others.
Having been diagnosed in 2018 with antiphospholipid syndrome (APS), with congenital thrombophilia and dual pathways, conditions that currently have no cure, being alive has been considered a miracle by medical specialists, who affirm that Yanet is the only person who has survived so long after being diagnosed with this condition.
Science says that the congenital thrombophilia that affects Yanet is an inherited coagulation disorder, due to a reduction in the level of synthesis and/or activity of protein S and characterized by the development of symptoms of recurrent venous thrombosis, with the condition two-way, it causes your body to bleed and clot at the same time.
On the other hand, the antiphospholipid syndrome that she also suffers, occurs when the immune system mistakenly creates antibodies that make the blood more prone to clotting, causing dangerous clots in the legs, kidneys, lungs and brain and, in pregnant women, can lead to miscarriage and fetal death.
Doctors say that they do not know how to explain how she has been able to survive so long, while she, for her part, assures that “the Lord is the one who knows, He is the one who has the purpose in His hands.” Everything has been an experience to help her to understand life more clearly, to value people well, not to hurt anyone and to try to do what she can to help others. She considers that she truly has benefited greatly despite all this.
With great conviction, she says that she has never asked why, and that she does not feel unfortunate or sad about her health condition. In her own words: “God gives the wound and gives the cure. I do not know if the same gospel prepared me since I was a child to understand life in a different way from other people, because that is something that I am trying to understand a little bit, whether what happens to me is for myself or for others. I have seen that it has been reflected much more in other people than in myself.”
Yanet Gómez explains that her family joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints when she was 6 years old and two years later, she was baptized. Since then, she has served in various callings, including as the director couple of the For the Strength of Youth conference (FSY 2016 and 2017), among many others.
Less than three months after she was married, she was hospitalized for a thrombosis in her right leg, and, after several months in the hospital, her leg was in such a bad condition that the doctor determined that the only option to avoid further complications was to amputate it. At that moment, she felt desperate: “I was anguished, not because of myself, but because I felt it was unfair for my husband that when he was newly married, he had to go through having his wife in that situation.”
Asking the doctor for a day to think before the surgery, she wondered what they could do to find out if that was really the Lord’s will. She claims that something told her that she “had forgotten some things,” and she was inspired to ask her husband and her father to call some members of the Church to do a collective fast.
She was greatly surprised to see that many members joined this fast, and what surprised her even more was that she could see that the Lord performed a miracle. The next day, the doctor could not believe the great change in her condition, reversing his decision to do the surgery and allowing her to have her leg today, with no sign of the state it was in at that time.
It has not been the only moment of adversity in her life. She always dreamed of having a large family, but due to her health condition, she had already lost two pregnancies and her prognosis was that she might not be able to have children. However, during the dedication of the Santo Domingo Temple, she and her husband were able to greet Elder Richard G. Scott (1928-2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. Upon learning of their nearly four years of marriage and their difficulty having children, he assured them with a very penetrating and serious look that they would have a child very soon.
Sister Gómez not only had that child, but she also had a second, and although in both cases they were born at six months of gestation, they were born healthy.
For her second pregnancy, the doctor recommended performing an abortion before she was four months along; she flatly refused. After prolonged hospitalizations, the child was born without signs of life and without responding to neonatal resuscitation. But her husband, who is a doctor, “began to breathe on him with his mouth and to give him heart massages and I heard him say, ‘let’s go champion, champion up,’ and after a long time the baby screamed. It was a miracle, it really was a miracle,” said Yanet.
In search of other professional opinions, in November 1999 she traveled to Utah at the invitation of her sister who lives there, to be evaluated by specialists from that state. Surprised, the doctors could not believe that she, with her health conditions, was alive. At the time, the doctors told her that she might not survive three months.
“I kind of made a deal with the Lord at that time, and He granted it to me. I told him, let’s do something Lord, take me when my children no longer need me, when they can fend for themselves, and when they can understand many things in life. It has really been like that, they were young then, and now the oldest is 24 years old and the other is 23, and I’m here,” she says.
“Looking and going back, I feel like it perhaps is one of the purposes for which I came to earth, to help other people to endure certain situations in their life, to carry it in a lighter way, with more love, as perhaps the Lord wants. This year I have really had a lot of time to think about why the Lord allows certain things in our lives.”
With joy, Sister Gómez says that the gospel has helped her in everything in her life and has been the greatest blessing she has ever had. She understands that it is through Him that she has been preparing herself, continuing to learn, practicing, perfecting herself, and edifying herself, affirming that everything she is and the knowledge she has obtained is due to the gospel.
She says that through the movie that the missionaries played in their early days in the Dominican Republic, Man’s Search for Happiness, she understood that one of the purposes in our life is to be happy. She then continued learning in seminary, and she has made happiness a priority in her life. Nothing that comes to her makes her depressed. “I try to be happy as much as I can, if I can, I try to help someone else to be happy too.”

As the Church grew in Bulgaria, so did the idea of a public, Christ-centered Christmas program. President and Sister Warner asked Zlatina Biliarska, a retired journalist and member of the Church, to compose the script for the program. Zlatina was hesitant.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” she told Sister Warner. “I have no idea how to do such a program. It is too difficult.” Sister Warner encouraged Zlatina to think the assignment over before rejecting it completely.
The next morning Zlatina contacted Sister Warner. “I went home and started thinking about it,” Zlatina said. “It came to my mind what the program should be.” The following day she handed Sister Warner the draft of a three-part program that she had worked on all night.
“It was absolutely beautiful,” Sister Warner said. “It was perfect. She had truly caught the vision of Christmas.”
With the help of Sister Warner and Sister Leslie Davis, a missionary, Zlatina completed the final draft. The program was not simple. It involved three separate scenes—a traditional Bulgarian scene, a secular Western European scene, and a simple Nativity scene. It contained 28 songs—many of which would need to be translated into Bulgarian. It called for elaborate scenery and costumes and for a cast and choir of more than one hundred people. The prospect of the members putting on such a production was truly daunting.
Sister Evanka Pashinova, who had been an opera singer before she joined the Church, orchestrated the production. She translated unfamiliar songs into Bulgarian and organized the choir. Despite the distances members had to travel to rehearse (as long as two hours’ travel each way), choir members were enthusiastic and committed. They never missed a rehearsal. The musical portion of the program began to come together.
Several individuals blended their talents to create the costumes and scenery. Elena Shtilianova, a fine seamstress, made or found the costumes for all three scenes. An investigator who is an actress with the National Theater arranged for the Father Christmas costume. Another sister who is an artist painted exquisite backdrops. In a country where rolls of paper are often not available, she somehow found the materials needed to create the scenery. The investigator who had provided the Father Christmas costume also borrowed spotlights from the National Theater—as well as the union technicians who came with them.
As the complexity of the production and the number of participants and guests outgrew the meager facilities of the mission office, a banquet room at the Moscow Hotel in Sofia was reserved with funds from the mission office. Although it had only a small stage, an upright piano, and very limited space, it was the best that could be found. The choir members laughed about “standing room only” and offered to stand offstage when they weren’t performing so everyone could squeeze in.
The work took on a rhythm of its own as the weeks of rehearsal went on. The members’ excitement crescendoed into confidence, and everyone began to look forward to the chance to sing of the birth of the Savior and of his place in their hearts.
But as the excitement grew, the group’s harmony was invaded by discord. Newspapers and television spoke against the Church. Missionaries were physically abused. Rocks were thrown through the windows of the mission home and the mission office. One night the whole front of the mission office was painted with obscenities.
As the anti-Church sentiment grew, the manager of the Moscow Hotel began to worry about the possible consequences of allowing the Church to hold a Christmas program in her hotel. Less than 36 hours before the program was to begin, she notified the mission office that the members would not be able to use their reserved room after all.
Some of the members were devastated by the news, believing that the Christmas program would have to be canceled. President Warner was more trusting.
“Heavenly Father knows where we are and how much we need to have this program,” he said. “Let’s leave it in the Lord’s hands.”
The Lord heard their prayers. When the assistants to the mission president, Elder Trent Murray and Elder Hannon Ford, returned to the Moscow Hotel to get the mission’s money back, the manager explained why she was reluctant to allow them to use the reserved room on the main floor and led them to a room on the second floor.
“If you can promise that your people will come in the back door instead of the front door, go up the back stairs, and not use the lobby, you can use this other room,” she said, opening the door to a much larger ballroom. It was two and a half times larger than their reserved room, and it had a wonderful grand piano. It even had a Christmas tree and other holiday decorations.
On a cold Saturday afternoon in Sofia, missionaries met the members and investigators arriving for the program and directed them to the back door, where they entered the hotel inconspicuously. More than 400 guests crowded into the ballroom. Even the dour faces of the spotlight technicians, who were unhappy to be working on a holiday, could not spoil their festive spirit.
The 150 choir members sang beautifully, and the audience joined in for a sing-along. By the time a young couple placed their baby in the manger for the final scene, the room was filled with joy and music. Even the spotlight technicians were singing and clapping along with the others.
The Spirit was so strong that no one wanted to leave. But like every performance, the Christmas program had to conclude. The same child’s a capella solo that had opened the program—her “Silent Night”—ended it. As the audience and the participants returned home, echoes of their experience—their “Joy to the World”—reverberated in their hearts and warmed the chill in the Bulgarian air.

I remember some years ago getting a letter from a young woman who was awaiting the return of her missionary fiancé in order that they could be married. She outlined in her letter all the things she was doing to prepare herself worthily for that glorious experience. She went to the temple for her endowments before he returned from his mission, and she had the privilege of witnessing some sealings of children to their parents. What a beautiful thing she said it was. She had a great desire that her marriage would be in one of the sacred temples of our God.

One such event for me involved a small boy. He was perhaps the ugliest child I had seen up until then. He was tied into a chair with a wide band of white bed sheet. His head lolled from side to side, and he drooled onto a bib tied around his neck. His face contorted into grimaces and his thin, matchstick arms flailed the air without control. I stood in the doorway, and, in spite of myself, I stared.

He was alone in the room, tied in that chair with a large white tray in front of him. On the tray was a jumble of children’s building blocks. The little boy was building something with those blocks. The structure took shape slowly as he carefully focused his rolling eyes on the block he needed; and then, with a concentration that made his entire body rigid with effort, he controlled his flinging arms and hands to reach for the block.

He’d aim for the block, reach, and overshoot. Aim again and again and finally, with a lunge, capture the block and grasp it in jerking, clawlike fingers. Then the block was lifted with intense concentration, finally wavering spasmodically into place. The entire structure tottered dangerously as the new block landed.

I found myself watching in fascination as the structure grew, my own body becoming rigid as he reached for each block, grasped it, lifted it slowly and carefully, and dropped it into place. I was beginning to turn blue when I realized that I was holding my breath with each block as the structure tottered and threatened to fall over.

The structure grew slowly and with such great, great difficulty that I found myself sweating the effort of watching. Yet I knew, somehow, that I couldn’t and shouldn’t try to help. It grew and grew into walls and parapets and minarets until at last the capstone was ready to set into place.

The final triangular block that would top the west tower was moving into place when the arm that moved it gave a sudden, convulsive jerk, and the hand that held the block struck the lower wall of the great structure. It came down with a clatter and a crash as the blocks tumbled across the tray and spilled off onto the floor.

The boy watched it go, his rolling eyes filled with a look that I have seen many times since but have never quite become accustomed to. He sat as the clatter trailed away into silence. Then he heaved a great sigh, pushed the debris aside and slowly, ever so slowly and ever so carefully, picked up the first block and set it into place again.

There were tears running down my face as I stepped into the room and, without a word, gathered the scattered blocks from the floor and piled them at the edge of the tray. Then I stood back and watched for a while longer the infinite care and patience as the second structure began to take shape.

I stood and watched for a long time, forgetting the demands for my time in another part of the building. No one else came along while I was there, and it probably was good because I’d have been embarrassed to have been found there like that with my face wet from tears. One just glancing in might not have seen what I had seen and might not have understood.

For, you see, I was silent witness to a miracle—a small miracle, but a miracle nevertheless. I had seen something of incredible ugliness turn before my eyes into something of tremendous courage and unspeakable beauty.

It etched itself, that afternoon so long ago, forever in my mind.

Football is my favorite sport. I have been playing Little League football for six years. The position I play is running back. For the past five seasons we have not had many games on Sunday. This year was different. Almost half the games were on Sunday.
At the beginning of the season, my family had a family home evening on Sabbath day observance. We read in the For the Strength of Youth pamphlet that Sunday is not a holiday or a day for recreation or athletic events. I know it is important to keep the Sabbath day holy. My dad and I went to the coach and told him that I would not play football on Sunday. The coach was frustrated by our decision. He did not understand because he is not a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Throughout the season I tried to be a good example. It was hard for me at times because I love to play football and hated to miss so many games. When I did play with the team at Saturday games, I played my best.
I have been blessed. Many of my teammates and coaches have asked questions about the Church because of my decision. This was a great missionary experience, and I know that I made the right choice.

As a young boy in Australia, I played a lot of sports. I ran track, and I also played rugby and cricket. I really liked team sports. In those sports, it wasn’t just me playing but a group of people working together. One of the harder sports I tried was rowing.
My friend and I took out a boat called a “tub pair” on the river. I rowed on one side, and he rowed on the other. As we rowed, we tried to prove we were stronger than each other. The boat turned in one direction and then another. We zigzagged up the river. It was slow going. We didn’t work together very well.
After that, we got a coach to help us. He told us what to do and how to help each other. We practiced the things he taught us. Eventually we became very good and won many races.

San Jose, Costa Rica: “Please,” he told a friend, “I want to come back to the Church. I need you to send somebody.”
Daniel Frankston had heard the missionary discussions in his homeland of Canada with his mother when he was fourteen. Then when he was seventeen years old, his sister living in Costa Rica invited him to stay with her family and go to college in San Jose. His first day there, he looked out her window and saw the missionaries walking by. He listened to the discussions again and was baptized.
But the idea of receiving the priesthood scared him. And his Costa Rican girlfriend, whom he later married, was deeply committed to her own church; she made it clear that she wasn’t interested in his religion. For the next five years, he wasn’t active.
Then one day, Daniel saw a friend. And feelings that had been building up in his heart came in a rush: “Please,” he said, “I want to come back to the Church. I need you to send somebody.” He didn’t know his friend was now branch president—and in a very good position to send somebody! “I felt my life needed some order. Something had told me, ‘You need the priesthood now!’ When I saw my friend, I felt he was there for a reason.”
Soon his new home teachers were at his door. “They said they would come for me every Sunday, and they did. I couldn’t miss! It was beautiful. Somebody was there to just say ‘We’re with you.’”
Daniel received the Aaronic Priesthood and then brought the missionaries home to teach his wife, Ana. “She really made it difficult for them,” he smiles. “One elder would be looking through his books for an answer while the other would be testifying. She received the lessons from lots of missionaries. Finally, she just said, ‘I believe it’s true!’”
Daniel baptized her, and a year later they and their two little girls were sealed in the Guatemala City Temple. Back home in Costa Rica, as they were studying the Book of Mormon one evening, Ana’s deceased grandfather appeared to her. Three times he forcefully said, “Ana, I need the gospel!”
“That really strengthened her,” Daniel says. “We’re going back to the temple soon to do his work.”
Ana teaches a Primary class, and Daniel is a high councilor. He gets excited as he talks about his assignment with missionary work. “We invite nonmembers into our home every week to introduce them to the missionaries or to have discussions with them. And we’ve seen baptisms come of it. You can’t preach what you don’t do.” (See: “Keeping Track.”)

As a mission president I traveled great distances over the state of Texas. (You can drive a long way in the state of Texas!) I used to spend many hours traveling alone, going from one missionary meeting or one set of interviews to another in the automobile that was provided for us. There was a lot of time to think, and many thoughts come in a situation of that kind. I discovered that it was a very helpful thing for me (and later very useful) if I used that time to practice organizing talks that I could give, forming associations of scriptural ideas and principles that would be helpful to me in expressing these relationships to others. Some of the best talks you’ll never hear, I gave to myself as I drove from one place to another in southern Texas. I recommend that process to you. In order to sustain constructive thinking, it’s necessary for us to have something worthwhile to think about, to have in reserve, as it were, some items, some problems, some challenges, to which we can turn our minds, to think our way through to a solution. I’ve discovered in my own life that that’s the best way to obtain inspiration and whatever degree of revelation we are entitled to.

When I was a bishop, being obedient meant sacrificing to attend the temple. My wife and I were invited to attend general conference in Salt Lake City, Utah. We did not have enough money to make the trip, but we greatly desired to be sealed for eternity in the Lord’s house. We asked Heavenly Father to provide a way for us to answer His invitation to all Saints to go to the temple. We were blessed to find additional jobs. We earned enough to make the trip to Salt Lake City. Kneeling in the temple, all in white, with my wife, Cristina, was one of the most special experiences of my life. Our marriage was different after we went to the temple and felt the Holy Spirit of the Lord seal us for eternity.

President Brigham Young grew to know that God provides for those who give freely of their substance to others. He wrote:
The first year that I came into this valley I had not flour enough to last my family until harvest, and that I had brought with me, and persons were coming to my house every day for bread. I had the blues about [it] one day; I went down to the old fort, and by the time I got back to my house I was completely cured. I said to my wife, “Do not let a person come here for food and go away empty handed, for if you do we shall suffer before harvest; but if you give to every individual that comes we shall have enough to last us through.’
I have proven this many a time, and we have again proven it this year. I have plenty on hand, and shall have plenty, if I keep giving away. More than two hundred persons eat from my provisions every day, besides my own family and those who work for me.
I intend to keep doing so, that my bread may hold out, for if I do not I shall come short.
Do you believe that principle? I know it is true, because I have proven it so many times. [JD 3:332–33]

Next to the gospel, the most helpful thing I learned in my youth was the value of work. When I was eight, I joined 4-H Club and started raising lambs and calves. As a nine-year-old, I had the grand champion lamb at The Dalles Livestock Show. I learned to keep my own books, and I made a profit. I also mowed lawns. When I was 10, I started shining shoes in the only barbershop in town.
We had a cow, and I took care of it, milked it, and delivered milk to a couple of customers. Then I delivered the local newspaper, the Dalles Chronicle. I earned my own money and was able to buy the bicycle I wanted.
You children need to know that work is a good thing. It is enjoyable. Earning your own money is good. It gives you freedom to buy what you need. I always paid my tithing first, and I always had enough money because I did and because I had learned to work. Children, what you earn will make you a lot happier than things that are given to you for free.

Ramona had been her grandmother’s caretaker during the last part of her life. During that time, “I was going through a difficult time when my grandmother passed in 2018, I needed something to help me get out of the way I was feeling.”
Knowing her situation and needs, her missionary friends suggested she investigate The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints’ Pathway program. At first, the program wasn’t available in Barbados. This program is now called PathwayConnect and has grown from 50 students in three U.S. cities to tens of thousands of students in numerous locations worldwide.
Today, Ramona has a year left before she graduates with a bachelor’s in marriage and family studies. “I’m so grateful I kept on pushing through, especially in the difficult times,” she said.
She plans to continue her schooling until she has her master’s degree in marriage and family therapy. Ramona now teaches others about PathwayConnect while she continues her own educational goals.

Those of us who are a little more mature can have a tremendous influence on the younger generations. When my mother was just a little girl, neither of her parents was active in the Church. Even at the young age of five, she would walk by herself to church and attend her meetings—Primary, Sunday School, and sacrament meeting—all at different times.
I recently asked my mother why in the world she did that week after week when she had no support or encouragement at home. Her answer was: “I had Primary teachers who loved me.” These teachers cared about her and taught her the gospel. They taught her that she had a Father in Heaven, who loved her, and it was their concern for her that kept her coming week after week. My mother said to me, “That was one of the most important influences in my early life.” I hope I can thank those wonderful sisters someday! There is no age barrier when it comes to Christlike service.

Several years ago a dear friend, who is a descendant of Hyrum Smith, asked if I would help him research the teachings of Hyrum. Though not a descendant myself, I readily agreed to help.

In February 2000, because of my research, I received an invitation to the family celebration of Hyrum's 200th birthday. Many hundreds of Hyrum's descendants gathered in the Assembly Hall on Temple Square. Elder M. Russell Ballard, Hyrum's great-great-grandson attended and President Gordon B. Hinckley made a surprise appearance as well.

As I looked around at all those descendants of Hyrum Smith, I wondered about the research I had been asked to do. Why me? With all those descendants, why should I be asked to do the work? In the midst of my contemplation, an unmistakable voice whispered to my soul, "Because you are willing."

Looking back, I now see that message as typical of Hyrum's life. In fact, I came to feel that it was Hyrum's voice.

Once when my grandfather and I were sitting in the backyard of this little ranch out in the country at sunset we heard this awful screaming sound. I asked him what was making that horrible sound. Grandfather said it was the Peacocks settling in for the night. And he said there was a reason for that screeching and he told me another fable.
On the eighth day after the creation of the world all the animals that the Lord had created on the land were gathered together at daybreak in a meadow. They spoke among themselves on the names that Adam had given them and which was the strongest, the swiftest, the tallest etc. The subject came up of which one of God's creatures was the most beautiful. As if on cue, just as the sun was rising over the hill, the peacock comes over the crest and fans his tail feathers. Every color of the prism shines brilliantly about him and the animals gasp in awe. As he walks down to the crown they part and make a pathway for him. Coming up to them they see how iridescent and vivid each color his, it is as if he had caught the rainbow in his feathers.
He walks to the edge of the crown and stands next to a little brown sparrow and the contrast is painful. He says to the sparrow, "Do you not think that I am the most beautiful creature the Lord has created?"
"Oh yes brother Peacock surely you are the most beautiful of all God's creatures." And the sparrow bowed his little head to the ground in reverence and humility. But while he had his head bowed low to the ground he happened to notice the legs and feet of the Peacock. His legs were stick like and a ugly color of bluish-grey. And the claws were grotesque looked horrible. "Oh brother Peacock have you ever notice your legs and claws?"
"What ever are you talking about?
"Your legs and claws are not very pretty." So the Peacock gazed down upon his ugly legs and his grotesque claws and screamed in agony for surely they were the ugliest of all God's creatures. And while the Peacock screamed in horror the little sparrow flew up and away to enjoy his life.

Perhaps the largest challenge for Vaea, however, was getting to the temple to be sealed. He and his girlfriend had decided to get married, and they both wanted to get married in the temple. But the closest temple at the time was in New Zealand, and the cost of getting there was tremendous.
“For a whole year we fasted together every Tuesday to find a way to make it to the temple. She was still living on an island in the north; I was in Ha‘apai. It was difficult. But then two businessmen heard our story, and they felt inspired to help. They actually paid for our trip. They said that if we truly wanted to be married in the temple, they would provide the way. I did not have any property or even a job so I could pay them back, but they did not want anything. It was a tremendous blessing.”

It’s Saturday morning in Prescott, Arizona, and the sky is a clear, crisp blue. It’s jacket weather, and some of the parents standing at the edge of the playing field stomp their feet on the hard ground to keep warm. In the distance, boys are shouting to each other as they run after a soccer ball. The team in the red and black uniforms are the Dynamites. Christopher Sexton (9) is one of them.
But a soccer field is only one of the many places where you can find Chris. Another place is the library, just a short walk from his family’s house in the small town of Chino Valley. He likes to head straight for the Hardy Boys books; he likes to check out videos too. After his family returned from a trip to an oceanarium in California, he went to the library and checked out a whole stack of books about whales, dolphins, and sharks. He says he wants to be a trainer at the oceanarium when he grows up.
You’ll find Chris at his home, of course—but then again, maybe you won’t! He loves to put on his cartoon turtle hero costume and hide, having all kinds of imaginative adventures. Who knows what might be lurking around the sofa or behind the telephone pole outside?
Christopher can be very determined when he wants to get something done. One summer his parents promised him a new bike if he kept the garden and trees watered. The watering had to be done by hand, and it took a lot of time. But he stuck to it without complaining, and by the end of the summer, he was able to choose his own bike.
You can often find Chris spending time with his family. He likes to wrestle with Dad or help him work on the car. Every so often, his oldest sister, Rebecca (17), takes him to the movies. And sometimes, on Sunday evenings during the summer, you can find him sprawled out on the grass with the rest of the family, reading stories and eating popcorn. And the family reads scriptures together at dinnertime.
You can also find Chris quietly helping others in his classroom at school. “He always goes the extra mile,” says his third-grade teacher. “He enjoys working with the other children who might need a little extra help.”
He helps his classmates with more than just their schoolwork. “He’s very tenderhearted and compassionate,” Mom says. When he was four years old, his friend’s father died, and Chris worried about his friend and asked, “What is he going to do for fathers-and-sons things?” Every year since then, he’s invited his friend to come along with him and Dad to fathers-and-sons activities.
So you’ll find Chris in lots of places. Whether playing with his friends, reading, spending time with his family, or helping someone, he’s probably enjoying what he’s doing. His soccer team isn’t the only thing that’s dynamite!