Gospel Story Finder

Blessed by an institute teacher who helped him learn French and prepare for a mission, Bishop Darmande Legbanon (left) encourages young people in West Africa like Alexis Ahouayito (right), now serving a mission in Zambia, to take advantage of programs like Succeed in School. He says Succeed in School will amplify their opportunities.
When Darmande Legbanon joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, he could not read, write, or even speak French, the official language of Benin. But with help from his stake president, he learned French in institute by reading the Book of Mormon and went on to serve a French-speaking mission. Today, he owns a successful welding business, mentors apprentices, and serves as the bishop of his ward.
Because he gained language and life skills through the Church, Bishop Legbanon now encourages young people in West Africa to follow in his footsteps. A two-tiered educational initiative—“Succeed in School” for youth ages 11 to 18 and “Gathering Places” for young single adults—is helping young people progress academically, spiritually, and socially. Coordinated through Area Presidencies and local leaders, these two efforts are blessing thousands in West Africa and other parts of the world.
Young single adults from the Tema Ghana Stake exhibit their catering class skills for government and community leaders at a Gathering Place conference in Accra.
The after-school program Succeed in School helps youth progress in school, prepare for higher education, and become self-reliant. So far, it has been implemented in several West African nations, where the majority of the program’s approximately 30,000 students participate. It also operates in Mexico, Haiti, Papua New Guinea, Vanuatu, and the southwest area of the United States.
With Succeed in School, “we’re signaling to … the youth of the Church: ‘Education matters. We care about you, and we care about learning,’” said Elder Clark G. Gilbert, Commissioner of Church Education. He and other leaders say that Succeed in School is a powerful way to help the rising generation increase their academic and spiritual capacity.
Leaders in local seminaries and institutes of religion operate the program, and stake and district leaders decide which resources will work best in their individual areas. Lessons and activities are based on global curriculum standards of education. The lessons supplement regular subjects and help students remain in school. Volunteer teachers from local stakes teach reading, writing, mathematics, and life-skills classes in local church buildings.
Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles attributes the success of Succeed in School to the “spiritual element” combined with academics. “We are seeing in many places in Africa [that student] scores on national exams, really, have soared just with that little extra attention that supplements in a very important way what they are getting in school.”
Another goal is to help young people pursue higher education, such as through BYU–Pathway Worldwide or vocational training.
Succeed in School classes emphasize:
Hope and faith in Jesus Christ and conversion to His restored gospel.
The importance of becoming lifelong learners.
The relevance and importance of the subjects taught.
Belonging and contributing to a collaborative learning experience.
As students improve their academic, work, and life skills, they also increase their hope in the future and develop their potential for higher education and employment.
While attending Succeed in School, Alexis Ahouayito, of the Republic of Benin, West Africa, learned skills that helped him prepare for a mission. He read the Book of Mormon every day, studied, and prayed for the Holy Spirit to be with him. He learned in the program “how to teach with the Spirit and how to teach with authority.” Now he’s Elder Ahouayito, serving as an English-speaking missionary in the Zambia Lusaka Mission.
His mentor, Bishop Legbanon, encouraged him to attend Succeed in School while he apprenticed at the bishop’s welding shop.
Another apprentice, Kodjo Dick Amenyovo, says, “The behavior our leaders show us—how they talk to us and how they teach us—motivates us to learn and to go on missions.”
When some of his apprentices began working for him, Bishop Legbanon says, some lacked the skills in French he once had lacked.
“But now it is easier for them to read and write, do mathematical calculations, and do lots of other things,” including preparing to become successful missionaries. Succeed in School has a lot of “good things in it, and it has helped my apprentices.”
“I know that our Heavenly Father thinks a lot about us young people. In addition to seminary, we have this program,” says Marie Aimée Judith Ake of the Abidjan Côte d’Ivoire Niangon South Stake.
She credits Succeed in School for helping her gain confidence.
“I am no longer ashamed to speak in front of my classmates, and I am no longer ashamed to talk about my church. I even feel the need to serve a full-time mission,” she says.
“I am no longer ashamed to speak in front of my classmates.”
Grateful the program combines spiritual and secular learning, Marie adds, “I know that this program is inspired by my Heavenly Father, and it is for our own good.”

Until my mother passed away about three years ago, I did not realize what it meant “to mourn with those that mourn.” When my mother passed, our family felt an outpouring of love from neighbors, family, and friends. I am not sure that those who mourned with us understood how their kindness comforted us so deeply.

My mother passed away on a Monday evening. On the afternoon of that day, after having spent the weekend in the very small hospital in Afton, Wyoming, my mother had been thrilled to be discharged and return home. My husband, Frank, and I had spent the weekend helping my father and visiting my mother and had left for Utah that afternoon after getting my mother settled at home.

That evening the Relief Society president was visiting my parents when my mother apparently suffered another stroke. The Relief Society president stayed with my father until the ambulance arrived. She contacted the bishop, who then met my father at the hospital. My mother could not be revived in the emergency room and passed away there. My parents’ bishop stayed at the hospital with my father for at least three hours until Frank and I could return to Star Valley. The bishop had stayed with my father so that my father would not have to go home to an empty house by himself at midnight. Then, in the following days, the bishop helped us to plan the funeral. The Relief Society planned a lovely lunch for our family after the funeral, and they cheerfully served us the traditional meal with ham and funeral potatoes.

There were other ways that people mourned with us. A day or two after my mother’s passing, someone brought a generous tray of deli meats, cheeses, and spreads that we picked at daily. Someone else brought the really thick, tasty kind of bacon and farm-fresh eggs. Friends and family came from long distances for the funeral, even when it was not convenient or easy. Others sent lovely flowers and plants, and, thanks to Frank’s green thumb, they are still alive and remind me of the generosity of dear friends. In my conversations with these sweet people, their acts of service did not seem to be any great sacrifice to them. Their generous and gracious acts helped us to feel the Savior’s love. We had a sense that we were not alone at a time of deep sadness. Their efforts to keep their covenants and to comfort us in Christlike ways still mean so much to me.

Near the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, eggs were hard to come by, so my husband and I decided it was time to get backyard chickens. During her first Utah winter, Alvin, our top chicken and spunkiest hen, who, yes, was named after a chipmunk, stopped eating and got deathly ill. To nurse her back to health, we brought her inside and started force-feeding her medicine from a syringe. After a couple of weeks, she started to regain her strength, so we decided to let her outside for a few hours.

As the other five hearty chickens eagerly ran to greet me, I set Alvin down. Then, to my horror, one by one, Alvin aggressively pecked and attacked each of the other hens. Alvin, my smallest hen, barely well enough to walk, made sure the hens did not forget that she was at the top of the pecking order. As top chicken in my flock, Alvin feeds first, expects to get the best nesting box for laying eggs, and sleeps in the best spot on the perch at night. She has no problem pecking the other chickens and putting them in their place.

Chickens love to feed together, preen together, and stay together. Despite their close-knit community, they are prone to bullying and harassing any chicken they deem as being weaker, different, injured, or new.

When it comes to God’s children, there is no pecking order. One person does not stand above another. Comparing yourself to others or demeaning them does not increase your value or make you better. There is no joy in jealousy, no progression in putting others down, and no strength in backstabbing. These things lead to low self-esteem, incorrect self-expectations, and wasted time and effort.

Thanks for coming shopping with me. Now how about getting ice cream?
YES!
Hmm. It looks like the cashier didn’t charge us for all the boards we bought.
You’re right. Didn’t we get six boards, not five?
We need to head back to the store.
Why do we have to go back? It’s just a few dollars. Besides, we didn’t make the mistake.
Well, it’s important to make things right when we can. It might matter a lot to someone else.
Plus, being honest matters to Heavenly Father.
Thanks for coming back! I would have had to pay that money myself.
Huh. I guess being honest did matter.
We’re glad we could make things right!
See Primary manual, page 142.

My mother also taught me to be honest, even if it meant doing hard things. Our neighbor grew all kinds of fruits and vegetables. Sometimes his fruit would grow on our side of the fence. Once I picked some of this fruit and took it to my mom. She looked at me and said, “That doesn’t belong to us.”
I couldn’t believe it. I said, “What do you mean? It’s on our side of our fence!” Again she said, “That doesn’t belong to us.” Then she took my hand, and we walked to our neighbor’s house. We asked for forgiveness for taking his fruit. My mother said that if we wanted something, we needed to get it honestly.

For an entire year Brother Assard fruitlessly sought employment. The strain of providing for his family weighed heavily upon him. He did not, however, let the difficulty of finding a job prevent him from moving the work of the Lord forward. He and Sister Assard sent letters to members on the list they had received in Germany. The Lucien Affoué family of Abidjan was the first to respond. Both families rejoiced to know they were not alone. Other members in Ivory Coast also responded but were too remote to meet with them.
As Lucien Affoué traveled with his family to Lyon, France, to study industrial arts, he had no idea the most important education he would receive there would be spiritual. Lucien; his wife, Agathe; and their two daughters embraced the gospel soon after full-time missionaries knocked on their door in 1980. The Bordeaux Branch welcomed the family into the Church, and after proving faithful, the Affoués and their daughters were sealed in the Swiss Temple.
When they returned to Ivory Coast in 1984, the Affoués, now with an infant son, were disappointed not to find any other Church members. Nevertheless, they diligently held meetings in their home, praying for the fellowship of another Latter-day Saint family.
Despite their difficult economic situation, the Affoués rejoiced in April 1986 when they received a letter from the Assards. The two families soon began holding joint Sunday meetings in the Assards’ backyard. As they worked, worshiped, and prayed together for employment, the families grew close and strengthened each other spiritually. Sister Affoué and Sister Assard became as close as sisters.
The Affoués had their prayers answered when Brother Affoué found a teaching job in Bouaké, the nation’s second largest city, located approximately 370 kilometers northwest of Abidjan. They had to leave the growing Church group in Abidjan. But with strengthened testimonies and faith, the Affoués helped establish the Church in Bouaké in 1988. There the family spread the gospel, eventually receiving welcome help from a missionary couple assigned to the area.
Brother Affoué served as branch president for four years, then continued as branch president after the branch was divided. Today he serves as a counselor to the mission president. Sister Affoué served as Relief Society president, while the children taught classes and helped out their small branch in other ways.
The Church’s first chapel in Ivory Coast was dedicated in April 1997, a decade after the country was dedicated for the preaching of the gospel and shortly before the creation of the country’s first stake. A chapel of their own represents a milestone for Ivorian Latter-day Saints, including the Affoués and the Assards, who have longed for a chapel in their native land since the two families first met under a tree in their home village 11 years ago.

“And what do Mormons believe about marriage?” my high school Spanish teacher asked me.
All of my classmates turned in their seats, listening for my answer. I gulped as I wondered how our class discussion had wandered from Don Quixote and Dulcinea to dating and marriage.
There wasn’t another member of the Church in the class. What should I say? How much detail should I give? Would everyone make fun of me if I talked about eternal marriage?
“We, uh … ,” I stammered, still uncertain what to say.
Just then, my friend Denise came to my rescue. “Mormons have a beautiful view of marriage,” she said. “They believe that marriages performed in their temples can last forever.”
“That is beautiful,” our teacher replied. Even my classmates seemed satisfied.
With that, class resumed and I was left wondering why I had been sweating over a question that my nonmember friend answered so easily.
As more people hear about the Church, Latter-day Saints will have more opportunities to answer questions about the gospel. In high school, I learned that we don’t have to give long answers, and we don’t have to be afraid. The beautiful, simple doctrines of the gospel speak for themselves.

I can’t refrain from telling you one other thing about that visit with my brother in Washington. He was to take a B-25 bomber to Texas to pick up something and return to Washington the next day. I went with him. That was the only time we flew together.
Many years later I was honored by Weber State University, where we both had graduated. He had been a student body officer during his college days. Because I would be in South America, he agreed to attend the banquet and accept the award in my behalf.
In his acceptance speech he told this story—part of which is true. He said that in Texas we were lined up side by side on the runway ready to take off. He radioed to me and said, “See you upstairs—if you think you can make it!”
Then he told them that after I became a General Authority of the Church, once in a while I would check on his behavior and add, “See you upstairs—if you think you can make it!”
Well, Leon made it. He is now where I hope one day to be.

“Shortly after I was called as a General Authority, I went to Elder Harold B. Lee for counsel. He listened very carefully to my problem and suggested that I see President David O. McKay. President McKay counseled me as to the direction I should go. I was very willing to be obedient but saw no way possible for me to do as he counseled me to do.
“I returned to Elder Lee and told him that I saw no way to move in the direction I was counseled to go. He said, ‘The trouble with you is you want to see the end from the beginning.’ I replied that I would like to see at least a step or two ahead. Then came the lesson of a lifetime: ‘You must learn to walk to the edge of the light, and then a few steps into the darkness; then the light will appear and show the way before you.’ Then he quoted these 18 words from the Book of Mormon:
“‘Dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith’” (Ether 12:6).
President Boyd K. Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, “The Edge of the Light,” BYU Magazine, Mar. 1991, magazine.byu.edu.

Sugar Creek was the first camp the pioneers made after they left their warm, comfortable homes in Nauvoo. Within two weeks it was filled with five thousand people, who were waiting for the signal from Brigham Young before going forward on their journey “out west.”
To Tommy and Betsy it was like living in a city, for the tents and wagons were placed along streets as their houses had been in Nauvoo. Between each was a space roofed over with brush to protect it from the weather. There the meals were prepared, and there the children played.
In the center of the camp was a big square, something like a park. On one side of it Tommy and Betsy lived in their covered wagon. Anytime during the day or night they could look out onto the square and see campfires burning and people standing nearby trying to get warm.
One morning, very early, Tommy saw Brigham Young on a wagon box in the center of the square. A moment later his voice boomed out over the camp like a giant cannon: “Attention, Camp of Israel!” And Tommy knew that within minutes everyone in camp would come to the square to hear what Brigham Young would say.
“I hope he tells us that it is time to move on out west,” said Tommy.
“I hope so, too,” said Mother.
But Brigham Young said nothing about going out west. Instead, he said that during the past few days eight hundred men had arrived at Sugar Creek without enough food to last a week, and he asked those who had food to divide with those in need. He promised that if the Saints would do this, the Lord would bless them with all the food they needed.
President Young urged the men to go to the towns on the north and on the south to ask for work building roads, building bridges, or putting up fences; he also suggested that pay be made in food. He reported that featherbeds, watches, dishes, shawls, silverware, and furniture could be traded for corn and wheat.
Tommy and Betsy were especially interested when he told the children they could help by gathering willows from the creek bed to weave into bushel and half-bushel baskets that could be traded for food.
Immediately following Brigham Young’s “Amen,” and even before there was talking or moving around, the people heard the faraway sound of a bell ringing.
“It’s the bell in the temple tower at Nauvoo,” Tommy whispered to Betsy, and to him it was as if the Lord were giving his own “Amen” to the words his prophet had spoken. In the quiet of his own heart, Tommy promised that he would try to do all Brigham Young wanted him to do.
When the meeting was over, Tommy’s father gathered his family around him and said, “We’re beginning a long journey. We’re not even sure where it will end. We only know that the Lord will lead us there. We know also that all we’ll have is what we take with us. Now the problem is, shall we give the food we brought with us to those in need, or shall we save it for ourselves so we can be sure of having enough?”
Tommy remembered the quiet promise he had made. “President Young has asked us to share,” he said, “and I think that is what the Lord wants us to do.”
“I know the Lord will help us get more when we need it,” added Betsy.
Tommy’s father smiled. “I’m glad you feel that way,” he said. “We can’t blame the Saints for coming here without enough food. No one was really ready to leave Nauvoo now, for everyone expected not to leave until spring. Some had money to buy food and equipment, but most of them didn’t, so they had to trade their farms and houses for whatever they could get for them. Brother Johnson, for example, traded his house for only a covered wagon and a yoke of oxen. There was no money to buy food, so they just brought what they had, and I’m sure it will be gone in a few days.”
“He’ll go to a nearby town to find work to buy food,” added mother.
“Are you going, Father?” asked Tommy.
“Yes, Brother Johnson and I are going together,” Father answered. “We’ll leave in the morning.”
“You can take my silver spoons with you,” Mother offered. “I think you can trade them for a wagonload of corn to keep our animals alive and strong until the grass starts to grow.”
“You can take our featherbed,” said Betsy. “I know someone will want that.”
“I’ll gather willows in the creek bed and weave them into baskets, like President Young asked us to do,” said Tommy.
All were so interested in listening to each other that no one noticed Sister Johnson, who had been standing just outside of the covered wagon. They were surprised when she spoke. “You can take my shawl,” she said quietly, “and the little sugar bowl my grandmother gave me.”
As she brought the items inside the wagon, she teetered as if she were going to fall. Tommy’s father jumped off the wagon to help her. “Are you ill?” he asked.
“No,” she answered, “but I am hungry. We haven’t had much to eat the last two days.”
Tommy’s mother hurried to help Sister Johnson lie down. “Munch on this sea biscuit,” she insisted, “while I fix you some hot mush.”
Later Tommy and Betsy and their father went back with Sister Johnson to her wagon. Tommy carried some potatoes, his father some flour, and Betsy a pail of milk.
As she carried the milk, Betsy thought of her kitten she had left in Nauvoo. In her mind she again heard her mother ask, “You wouldn’t want anyone to go hungry just so you could have you kitten along, would you?”
Betsy smiled and said, “No,” very quietly to herself. And this time she meant it for sure!

While studying at Brigham Young University as a young, single returned missionary, I attended a priesthood session of general conference in the Tabernacle on Temple Square. President Ezra Taft Benson, then-President of the Church, urged every returned missionary to take marriage seriously and make it a top priority in his life. After the session, I knew I had been called to repentance and needed to act on the prophet’s counsel.
Thus, I decided to go to my home country, Brazil, to find a wife. Before leaving for Brazil on a two-month internship, I called my mom and some friends on the phone and came up with a list of about 10 young women—each of them a potential wife.
While in Brazil, after much pondering and prayer, I met, dated, got engaged to, and set a date to marry one of the young women on the list. It was not record-breaking time for students in Provo, Utah, to date and become engaged, but it was fast by Brazil standards.
A few months later, I married Elaine. She is the love of my life and a choice blessing.
I am not suggesting that everyone should make a similar list, but I am suggesting—maybe more than suggesting—that we always act when our living prophets speak.

Brothers and sisters, there may be times in our lives when we might feel alone and may not receive the cheers and encouragement of others. I had an incredible career here at BYU—playing four years at LaVell Edwards Stadium, where more than 60,000 fans cheered me on. Banners and signs were held up in my support, and fans chanted, “Give Jamal the ball!” That filled me with energy, confidence, and the motivation that I needed to give it my all. My confidence in my abilities grew immensely as I heard the cheers of the fans.

I carried that with me into my NFL opportunities until an injury came along that ended my career. I hit another dark place in my life. My dreams had come to an end.

One day I had the chance to come back to the LaVell Edwards Stadium, where I had once heard the cheers and felt the confidence. As I entered the stadium, I walked down that tunnel where I used to run out before every game and hear the chants of 60,000 fans. But now those cheers were no longer there, and the stadium was quiet.

There was no more cheering, no more “Give Jamal the ball.” My identity and self-worth were being challenged. As I gathered myself and all my emotions, I walked back up the tunnel and took a seat in the front row to gather my thoughts.

As I sat there, I remembered the moment I had had with God in my room. Once again I had the same reassurance from Him—that it was okay and that things would work out. I felt as if He was telling me, “Your playing days are over, but you have so much to give, so much to do! Stand up, press forward, keep going, be thankful and hopeful, and everything will work out. You are not alone.”

In that moment I did not hear the fans cheering me on, but, most importantly, I heard God—and an army of angels—cheering for me instead.

In Doctrine and Covenants 84, the Lord promises:

I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.

And that’s exactly what I felt in that moment. So even though my football career had come to an end and the fans were gone, I knew and trusted that God would always be by my side with these many earthly angels who He has given me in my life. They have stuck with me, believed in me, and supported me. They became my team.

Matti and Kirsti Salmi exemplify this combination of faith with Finnish resolve. They live in the west coast city of Kemi, at the northern tip of the Gulf of Bothnia, less than one hundred kilometers below the Arctic Circle. In 1988, the Salmis became the first Finnish couple to serve a mission in their own land.

Kirsti had joined the Church in 1973 in Kuopio, after the missionaries taught her the gospel that “sounded familiar and true, especially after reading the Book of Mormon.” Matti was forty-eight when, in 1978, the elders brought “an undeniably strong spirit with them.” And he too was baptized. The two met in the summer of 1981 at the Swiss Temple.

“How glad we were for our proselyting mission call,” says Matti. “Within the first week of our mission, we met and taught our first people to be converted. By the end of the month they were baptized; then came another and another.”

“Even when people weren’t baptized,” adds Kirsti, “we never felt we taught in vain. On the other side, when some things are clearer, many of those will accept.”

Their work brought three young converts in Savonlinna, the beautiful site of the nation’s annual opera festivals. The city’s setting is dramatic, on a large archipelago in the middle of the largest of Finland’s 180,000 lakes. “We so enjoyed our work in that lovely setting,” says Brother Salmi. “The members there are devoted to the gospel and freely helped us share it.”

According to the Salmis, “teaching eternal principles together and sharing love for others deepened and strengthened our marriage more than anything we could think of.”

William Law had first wept at the Prophet’s announcement of the principle of plural marriage, and with his arms around Joseph’s neck had pleaded that he not teach it.

His son Richard, who said this took place about 1842 and who was present at the time, later related the incident to Joseph W. McMurrin, who summarized his remarks as follows:

William Law, with his arms around the neck of the Prophet, was pleading with him to withdraw the doctrine of plural marriage. Mr. Law predicting that if Joseph would abandon the doctrine, ‘Mormonism’ would, in fifty or one hundred years, dominate the Christian world.

Mr. Law pleaded for this . . . with tears streaming from his eyes. The Prophet was also in tears, but he informed the gentleman that he could not withdraw the doctrine, for God had commanded him to teach it, and condemnation would come upon him if he was not obedient to the commandment.

Over that William Law became bitter, and soon he was excommunicated. Then Law attempted to organize his own church and began to fight back.

Years ago when I was in business, I learned a very expensive lesson because I did not listen carefully to the counsel of my father, nor did I heed the promptings of the Spirit giving me guidance from my Heavenly Father. My father and I were in the automobile business, and the Ford Motor Company was looking for dealers to sell their new line of cars. Ford executives invited my father and me to a preview showing of what they thought would be a spectacularly successful product. When we saw the cars, my father, who had over 35 years’ experience in the business, cautioned me about becoming a dealer. However, the Ford sales personnel were very persuasive, and I chose to become Salt Lake City’s first—and actually last—Edsel dealer. And if you don’t know what an Edsel is, ask your grandpa. He will tell you that the Edsel was a spectacular failure.

Now, there’s a powerful lesson for all of you in this experience. When you are willing to listen and learn, some of life’s most meaningful teachings come from those who have gone before you. They have walked where you are walking and have experienced many of the things you are experiencing. If you listen and respond to their counsel, they can help guide you toward choices that will be for your benefit and blessing and steer you away from decisions that can destroy you. As you look to your parents and others who have gone before you, you will find examples of faith, commitment, hard work, dedication, and sacrifice that you should strive to duplicate.

In the early days of the Church, when the pioneers first came to Salt Lake City, and even before that time for that matter, our people indulged in recreation and clean amusement as we do now. The Salt Lake Theater was built during the presidency of Brigham Young and dedicated on March 12, 1862. In the prayer of dedication Daniel H. Wells, one of the counselors in the First Presidency, said, among other things:

Accept our gratitude, our Father, for the privilege we now enjoy of assembling within these spacious walls for the purpose of consecrating and dedicating this building, which has been erected for a theatre wherein thy people may receive amusement and recreation. In the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and in the authority of the Holy and eternal Priesthood of Almighty God, we consecrate and dedicate this building with its surroundings above and below and upon each side thereof, unto Thee, our Father and our God. . . .

And wilt Thou, O Lord, preserve for ever this house pure and holy for the habitation of thy people; suffer no evil or wicked influences to predominate or prevail within these walls, neither disorder, drunkenness, debachery or licentiousness of any sort or kind, but rather than this, sooner than it should pass into the hands or control of the wicked or ungodly, let it utterly perish and crumble to atoms; let it be as though it had not been, an utter waste, each and every part returning unto its native element; but may order, virtue, cleanliness, sobriety and every excellence obtain and hold fast possession herein, and the righteous control and possess it, and holiness unto the Lord be forever inscribed therein. [Deseret News, 12 March 1862, p. 290]

I have had the privilege on many occasions of witnessing performances in that temple of drama, music, and comedy, but there came a time when traveling companies brought to that playhouse shows that were vulgar, that were not pure, shows that did not manifest an influence such as President Wells prayed would prevail and predominate. President Grant loved the drama. He loved the stage. I think he personally was the principle owner of the stock in the old Salt Lake Theater. Accordingly, the theater was closed. It, the property on which it stood, were sold and the theater was torn down. The Church has always stood for clean amusement, moral cleanliness and those things which tend toward righteousness. We cannot compromise with wickedness.

The week I stayed with Uncle Alex and Aunt Cindy was the week their garden cranked out a year’s supply of zucchini. Uncle Alex called it the “Zucchini Explosion.”
Uncle Alex is a lot like me, only grown up. We even have the same name, sort of. You see, my name is Elliot Alexander Cranton. His name is Alexander Elliot Cranton. Aunt Cindy says we’re quite a pair.
We ate supper on the patio the first night, and there it was on my plate—zucchini. Uncle Alex is a lot of fun, and I like Aunt Cindy too. But zucchini and I don’t get along at all. They look like giant cucumbers, and they just mush around in your mouth.
I ate as much as I could stand, then spread the rest around on my plate. I didn’t want to hurt Aunt Cindy’s feelings, but I didn’t want to eat the zucchini, either.
After supper three of Aunt Cindy’s friends stopped by to visit.
“Would you like to take home some zucchini?” she asked them.
“My family won’t eat them,” said the tall one.
“My family won’t touch them,” said the short one.
“My family won’t even look at them,” said the one in between.
I wasn’t surprised.
Uncle Alex and I excused ourselves and went to catch lightning bugs.
We caught about twenty-five and put them into a jar. I thought the breathing holes in the lid were small enough when I took the jar into the kitchen, but I guess they weren’t.
I don’t know why Aunt Cindy was so upset. Only one got on her foot. The rest were on the ceiling. And the walls. And the floor.
“Alexander Elliot and Elliot Alexander,” she shouted, “get these bugs out of my kitchen!”
“If you insist, but we sure could have saved on the electric bill,” Uncle Alex joked.
The next night we ate in the kitchen. We had a zucchini casserole. I offered to scrape the dishes so that Aunt Cindy wouldn’t see how much I’d left on my plate.
After dinner, Uncle Alex and I hunted for fishing worms. We put them into a paper cup with some dirt, then put the cup into the refrigerator to keep the worms fresh.
“Alexander Elliot and Elliot Alexander,” shouted Aunt Cindy when she looked in the refrigerator, “what’s this next to the zucchini?”
She looked into the cup. “Get these worms out of my kitchen!”
Aunt Cindy did not even want to understand about keeping worms fresh.
We ate in the dining room the next night. We had zucchini with some kind of sauce on them. I’d swallowed more zucchini that week than I’d eaten before in my whole life. But it wasn’t enough for Aunt Cindy.
She looked at our plates and shook her head. “I’ve already put away more zucchini than we’ll need for the winter.”
“Leave the zucchini to us,” said Uncle Alex.
“Sure,” said Aunt Cindy, smiling a little. “You two are just like those zucchini. I don’t know what to do with them, and I don’t know what to do with you!”
After supper I helped Uncle Alex move the picnic table out by the road. We put the zucchini on the table. I made a sign that said ZUCCHINI—20¢ EACH.
Eight cars went by. I changed the price to ten cents.
Fourteen more cars went by. No luck.
I made a new sign that said ZUCCHINI—FREE TO A GOODHOME. Sixteen cars later, we gave up.
“Let’s look in Aunt Cindy’s cookbook,” I suggested. “Maybe we can find a recipe for chocolate-covered zucchini.”
“I’ll try anything,” said Uncle Alex.
We went into the kitchen and got out the cookbook.
“Uncle Alex,” I asked, “why doesn’t Aunt Cindy ever make zucchini bread? It sounds kind of good.”
“It is,” Uncle Alex said. “You don’t even know you’re eating zucchini. Aunt Cindy says it’s fattening.”
“Let’s make some.”
That was when I found out that Uncle Alex is not very handy in the kitchen, especially with messy things like flour and eggs. After we put the bread in the oven and were just starting to clean up, Aunt Cindy came in with her three friends.
“Alexander Elliot and Elliot Alexander,” she shouted, “what have you done to my kitchen?”
I don’t know why she was so upset. There was just a little flour on the counter. And on the floor. And on Uncle Alex.
“What is that wonderful smell?” asked Aunt Cindy’s tall friend.
“It’s zucchini bread,” I told her.
“How delightful!” said the short one.
“It does smell delicious,” said the one in between.
When the bread was done, Uncle Alex cut a slice for each of us, even Aunt Cindy.
It was really good, and it didn’t mush around in my mouth.
Uncle Alex gave each lady the recipe and a big sack full of zucchini.
“Oh, thank you,” said the tall one.
“How thoughtful of you,” said the short one.
“Are you sure you don’t want to keep some for yourselves?” asked the one in between.
The next day, Uncle Alex and I picked three zucchini from the garden. We took them in to Aunt Cindy.
“Alexander Elliot and Elliot Alexander,” she shouted, “get those zucchini out of my kitchen!”

Allow me to share a part of my tertiary educational journey, and I share not to boast but to show the goodness of God in my life as I placed my focus and faith on the Savior Jesus Christ. I use the words of one of my favorite Book of Mormon heroes, Ammon, in sharing my immense joy and where my strength comes from as he declared to his brother Aaron, “I do not boast in my own strength, nor in my own wisdom; but behold my joy is full, yea, my heart is brim with joy, and I will rejoice in my God. Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things.” [4]
Growing up my sister and I had been taught the importance of getting an education and to be independent. After completing my Diploma in Information Technology, my parents sat me down and explained that if I wanted to further my education, I would have to fund it myself. I am forever grateful to my parents for teaching and enabling me to “look [to the Savior] in every thought; doubt not, fear not.” [5]
I had the desire to complete my degree and I knew that I needed to “Trust... the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.” [6] I was scared, but I had faith in Jesus Christ that it would all work out.
At the time, I had started working at Church College Fiji as a part-time substitute teacher and part-time librarian. I felt directed to go to the bank to get a partial loan for the first semester at university. Like Nephi, I knew that if I was obedient and go and do, the Lord would prepare a way to accomplish the task. [7]
During my first semester an opportunity arose to tutor Korean students “English,” after my day job and before my evening classes. This opportunity provided me with additional income to supplement my substitute wages, pay off my loan, and save for the next semester’s tuition. When I started as a tutor I only had two students, and when I decided to stop two years later upon completing my bachelor's degree and ITEP teaching certificate, I had up to 12 students. The Lord had provided the way and given me the strength to endure my hectic schedule of work, tutoring, evening classes, completing assignments, dating, and fulfilling my Church calling.
All these were possible because I had been taught early in my youth to “seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.” [8]
Looking back, I have seen the tender mercies of a kind and loving Heavenly Father. The month I completed my bachelor's degree, I was offered a full-time position to teach Computer Studies at Church College Fiji. After two years of full-time employment and with the support of my family, I began my master's degree. Thus, began again the journey of finding balance and contentment in the late nights, getting readings and assignments done, work and family commitments, and Church activities.

While my husband and I were eating lunch at a local sandwich shop, a man walked in looking disheveled, lost, and confused. When he walked toward our table, I was surprised he didn’t ask for money. He only asked for directions to Flagstaff, Arizona. My husband and I gave him directions. He thanked us and left.
After lunch we started for home. Soon I saw the man walking toward a gas station. I had a strong impression to help him and asked my husband to pull into the gas station. I found the man and introduced myself. He had sad and tired eyes. His face seemed etched with deep lines from a hard life.
I asked how he planned to get to Flagstaff. He said he was going to walk. I knew that would be impossible since Flagstaff was more than 120 miles (193 km) away. I gave him some money and told him he could go to a nearby fast food restaurant to get some food and that I would return to take him to the bus depot and buy him a ticket to Flagstaff.
I returned to the truck and told my husband what had happened. Because of his health issues, I called a friend and asked her to go back with me. She agreed. We gathered some supplies, food, and water. Then we drove to the restaurant and picked the man up.
As we headed to the bus depot, this poor man began repeating, “I want to go home.” I asked if Flagstaff was his home. It wasn’t, but his daughter, whom he hadn’t spoken to for several years, lived there. He explained that he had been released from prison two weeks earlier. He and another released prisoner had been dropped off at the bus depot and each given a ticket. The other prisoner had stolen his ticket and what little money he had. He had been wandering the streets since. Nobody would help him.
“I want to go home,” he said again.
We arrived at the bus depot. I purchased his ticket and gave him some money and the supplies we had gathered. He thanked us and sat down. As we drove away, this man’s words repeated in my mind: “I want to go home.”

In a lesson taught a few weeks ago in seminary, something really touched me and had a huge effect on me and my life. My teacher read aloud the Entertainment and Media section from For The Strength of Youth. There was one passage she kept repeating over and over again. It said, “Do not attend, view, or participate in entertainment that is vulgar, immoral, violent, or pornographic in any way. Do not participate in entertainment that in any way presents immorality or violent behavior as acceptable” ([2001], 17). As she said this over and over again, it started to sink into me.
Later that day at school, I was in my English lesson when my teacher said, “Today we are going to watch a film as a treat.” I really did not want to watch it because it was a scary and vulgar film. I knew that I would feel uncomfortable. I pulled my For the Strength of Youth pamphlet out of my bag and explained to my teacher that I have standards and that this film was inappropriate for me to watch. I was scared and nervous about what my teacher’s reply would be and how she would react to me for sticking up for my standards and what I believed in. She paused for a moment and then said, “Kelsey, I fully understand that you have standards, and I admire you for sticking up for your beliefs.” My teacher then told me that I could go to another room and get a head start on our next topic.
I appreciated my teacher for understanding, and I will always remember this experience. I now know that I can stick up for what I believe in and that the For the Strength of Youth pamphlet is a strong and powerful thing in my life and always will be.