Gospel Story Finder

Before I was baptized, I felt embarrassed about myself because of my wheelchair. After I was baptized, however, I began coming to the ward every Sunday and participating in young single adult activities. I even went to stake dances, dancing in my wheelchair to every song. I also joined a network for Samoans with spinal injuries.
I realized I had healed from feeling that I needed to hide. Through the Church, I gained the confidence to go among people again.
Before he was baptized, Posenai felt embarrassed to be in a wheelchair. But after his baptism, he says, “I gained the confidence to go among people again.”

Mika always looked forward to dance class. She loved listening to the music. She loved practicing her butterfly skip and getting it just right. And she especially loved it when the whole class moved together. When they did that, it was like the dancers were all the same. It felt like she wasn’t the only one with Down syndrome.
Today they were learning a new dance step. Mika watched her teacher leap into the air. She watched the other girls try. Some figured it out right away. Mika tried over and over, but she just couldn’t get it right yet.
“Will you help me, teacher?” Mika asked.
The girl next to her looked at Mika. Then she leaned over to her friend. “Why does she talk like that?” she whispered. Both girls turned and looked at Mika.
On the way home from class, Mika was quiet the whole way.
When they got home, Mom was kneading dough in the kitchen. She had flour on her cheek. Sometimes that made Mika laugh. But today she just dropped her bag to the floor and sank into a chair at the table.
“How was dance?” Mom asked.
“Terrible,” Mika said. “I asked for help, and a girl said I talk funny. Then she stared at me.” Mika looked down. “I don’t want to go to dance anymore.”
“Oh, Mika!” Mom said. “I’m so sorry. Dad and I love watching you dance. We’re so proud of how hard you work!”
Mika felt tears starting to come. “I don’t like the Down syndrome in me. I don’t like that my face is different. I wish it wasn’t so hard for me to learn new things. I even have to practice talking!”
Dad sat down by Mika and put his arm around her. “Mika, we love you so much. We wouldn’t change one thing about you.”
But Mika just shook her head and buried her face in her arms. “I don’t want to be different. I want my Down syndrome to be taken out of me!”
Mom and Dad were quiet for a few moments.
“I have an idea,” Mom said. Mika peeked out over her arms. “Why don’t you pray and ask Heavenly Father how He feels about you?”
Mika thought about that. She liked saying prayers. Slowly, she nodded. “Can you write down the question so I’ll remember what to ask?”
Mom wrote the question down. Then Mika took the paper and went to her room to pray.
When she came into the kitchen a few minutes later, Mika’s face was lit up like a light bulb. “Heavenly Father answered!” she said.
“What did He say?” Mom asked.
“He said, ‘Mika, I love you just the way you are,’” she said. “And He said it with a LOUD voice!”
The next week at dance, Mika didn’t worry about what the other girls thought about her Down syndrome. Instead, she noticed another girl, Sara, who looked sad. Sara was having a hard time learning some of the new moves too.
When Mika got home, she decided to write a note to Sara. She drew lots of hearts. Mom helped her with the spelling.
“Dear Sara,” Mika wrote. “You’re a great dancer. I want to be your friend. I am happy you are in my dance class.”
Mika couldn’t wait to give Sara the note. She wanted Sara to feel happy and loved at dance too.

The story is told of a 14-year-old boy who had come to Nauvoo in search of his brother who lived near there. The young boy had arrived in winter with no money and no friends. When he inquired about his brother, the boy was taken to a large house that looked like a hotel. There he met a man who said, “Come in, son, we’ll take care of you.”
The boy accepted and was brought into the house, where he was fed, warmed, and was given a bed to sleep in.
The next day it was bitter cold, but in spite of that, the boy prepared himself to walk the eight miles to where his brother was staying.
When the man of the house saw this, he told the young boy to stay for a while. He said there would be a team coming soon and that he could ride back with them.
When the boy protested, saying that he had no money, the man told him not to worry about that—that they would take care of him.
Later the boy learned that the man of the house was none other than Joseph Smith, the Mormon prophet. This boy remembered this act of charity for the rest of his life.

I now understand better the dream given to Karl G. Maeser in the 1880s during a very difficult financial period for the university. Brother Maeser became so discouraged with the lack of resources for the university that he decided to take a job at the University of Utah. He told his wife and daughter to pack the household goods and prepare to move. This they did, and then they waited two days. On the third day the daughter finally asked when they would leave. Brother Maeser replied: “I have changed my mind. I have had a dream—I have seen Temple Hill [upper campus] filled with buildings—great temples of learning, and I have decided to remain and do my part in contributing to the fulfillment of that dream” (from Brigham Young University: The First One Hundred Years, eds. Ernest L. Wilkinson and Leonard J. Arrington, vol. 3 [Provo: Brigham Young University Press, 1976], 3).

It was just an ordinary sacrament meeting. At that moment, Latter-day Saints were sitting in sacrament meetings in thousands of chapels all over the world. But then something happened to make this particular sacrament meeting special.
After the sacrament had been passed, I sat looking around as the bishop got up to speak. There sat the Spillman family. Jane was facing the bishop, but her arm rested across her husband’s back. Her husband, Richard, was holding their new son, Tommy. He looked into the baby’s face as he fed him with a bottle. That’s what drew my attention to Joel, who was ever-so-gently stroking his baby brother’s head.
Spiritual experiences come in many ways. As I looked at the Spillmans, I felt a sense of peace in the room. I began to look around, and I noticed some wonderful things.
Four-year-old Ashley Anderson, who had been sitting with her mother on the front row, came down the aisle to the back row to sit on Brother Deloy Nielsen’s knee. Countless hours of helping in the nursery had made him a “borrowed grandpa” to many little children who loved him.
Testimony bearing started. An elderly couple, whom I had never seen before, sat in the middle of the chapel. He had his arm around her, and their silver heads were bent close together.
A young man got up and quietly showed a young child the way out. It was Gary—Mindy and David’s son. A sweet spirit filled the room as family after family drew close and touched one another spiritually.
Dallas’s little girl sat on his lap. She reached over and hugged him. Toddler Donelle took turns going from Jackie to Wayne for hugs and loves. The chapel, at that moment, was a special place, with a special spirit.
Recently baptized Jared, Kim’s young son, bore his testimony and then sat close to his dad. As more testimonies were shared, members continued to partake of the spirit.
As I sat there, I thought again about the Saints gathered in rooms, rented halls, and chapels all over the world, enjoying the same spirit I was enjoying. Even members like me, sitting alone because loved ones lived elsewhere or had passed away, were not really alone. We were all together for this special time, on an ordinary Sunday, in an ordinary ward, in an ordinary stake of Zion.
Just another sacrament meeting? It all depends on how you look at it.

Now I have to tell you a little about Josh so you get a feel for his personality. He is our oldest son, and his temperament is fairly easy-going. He is somewhat introverted. He doesn't like a lot of fuss or attention, and he's pretty independent. Unlike some of our other children, he didn't require much discipline growing up.

I remember when he was around age three, that I could go play basketball and I could sit him on the stage at the church house with some treats, and he could sit there eating his snacks quietly for more than an hour as he watched me play. (That's pretty remarkable). That's just Josh. None of our other children could have done that, but he was blessed with a calm demeanor. His temperament would assist him in enduring the great trials that were ahead for him.

When my son was five years old he sort of trotted into the room one day and very casually said, "Dad, can you see out of this eye the same way you see out of the other eye?" Somewhat concerned, we had him cover his eye and did a little test on his sight. It was apparent that he could not see the same out of both eyes. So, we thought he might need glasses, and took him to an ophthalmologist that same week. As the doctor shined a light in Josh's eye, to examine the optic nerve, I will never forget the look of alarm on the doctor's face. He wouldn't tell us what was wrong, but he immediately scheduled us for an appointment at Primary Children's Hospital in Salt Lake City. (Not a good sign, right?).

Shortly thereafter Josh was diagnosed as having a large tumor directly behind his eyes, that was pressing on his optic nerve, and damaging his vision in one eye. Surgery was scheduled immediately. I'll always remember him being wheeled into the surgery room in a little car, with an angel nurse by his side. To us it was like our lamb was going to the slaughter. And, if you saw him afterward, you would think that he had gone to the slaughter.

Normally they would go through the nasal cavity to access this type of tumor, but because of his age, they had to cut an incision from ear to ear, and go in through his skull. In this picture you can see Josh shortly after he came out of surgery. We prayed hard, and hoped for the best. Within a day after surgery his eyes were completely swollen shut and everything was dark. He was all alone that first night after surgery, as we were not allowed in the room.

That was painfully difficult for all of us. While the surgery was successful in removing the tumor, in the process they destroyed his pituitary gland--the body's master gland. Josh would need to have all his hormones synthetically replaced for the rest of his life.

He received many blessings during this time, and afterward, including blessings that discussed his healing. That healing did not come in the form we expected. We, of course, wanted him to be healed to the extent that he would not be dependent on any more medicine. But instead, the blessing was that he responded miraculously well to all of the medicines he was required to take. It was also a miracle that all of his hormones could be synthetically replaced. 30 years earlier that would not have been possible.

Years passed. By the time he was in high school he was 6' 3" tall. We had one doctor tell us he had never seen someone as tall as Josh, who was entirely dependent on growth hormone from such a young age. We were grateful for that blessing. Josh learned to endure the health challenges that were an everyday part of his life, and our family gradually learned to adjust to his medical routines.

Even though I didn’t have a father as I grew up, I never felt deprived or cheated. My mother, Stella Harris Oaks, didn’t feel sorry for herself, so my brother and sister and I didn’t feel sorry for ourselves, either. One year at Thanksgiving, there was a knock on our door. A ward member handed my mother a basket of food “for the widows in the ward.” I didn’t even know what a widow was, so I had to ask Mother for an explanation!
Mother set a wonderful example of trusting in the Lord and having faith in Him, and I followed her example. I always felt secure and loved, and even early in my childhood, I sensed that the gospel was true. I knew that I could turn to Heavenly Father for love and support.
I also knew that I could turn to my family. We were very close, and even though Mother was very busy because she had to work, we always sat down on Sunday and spent time together as a family. We had dinner and discussed what we had learned in church that day. We talked about gospel principles and questions we had on many subjects. Even before family home evening was an official Monday night Church program, we were faithfully holding our own family evening on Sundays.
Although my father wasn’t alive, there were many male role models in my life. I often spent the summers working on my grandfather’s farm in Utah. I piled and tromped hay, milked cows, and helped out with the chores. My brother, Dallin, and I were like Grandpa’s sons, and we had a very close relationship with him.
My grandparents didn’t have a lot of money. Grandpa and Grandma ate what they raised on their farm and worked hard to make ends meet. Grandma sewed temple burial clothes, and Grandpa sold subscriptions to a national magazine. Sometimes I went with Grandpa on his magazine-subscription visits.
Watching my grandparents and my mother, I learned to work very hard. From their example, I also learned the importance of paying tithing. Even though Grandpa and Grandma were very poor, they always paid a faithful ten percent tithing on everything they earned. During very difficult financial times, many neighbors lost their farms. Grandpa often said that he kept the farm because the Lord blessed him for being obedient and paying tithing.
Grandpa paid us for our work on the farm; we earned ten cents for every row of beets we hoed. I always paid tithing on that money and carefully saved the rest, and it added up. When I was about ten or eleven, our family took a trip back east to visit Church historical sites. We also visited Danville, Pennsylvania, where my father had done an internship. We visited the town librarian, a good friend of my parents when they had lived there.
While we visited her, the librarian brought out a box of books that she thought we might be interested in. Inside the box was an 1830 copy of the Book of Mormon! Even though I was very young, I sensed that the book was very important. When the librarian mentioned she was interested in selling it, I told her I would give her practically all my savings, a whole fifty dollars! She accepted it, and to this day, that copy of the Book of Mormon is one of my most prized possessions.
I’m grateful for my father’s legacy and for all my mother taught me. I am who I am today, at least in part, because of their good, righteous examples.

The Corona California Public Library is a family-oriented, wonderful place to be. That’s why I was so surprised to find R-rated movies on the library shelves.
I had become aware that the library’s policy allowed access to any material by any library patron of any age. Although this sounds wonderful at first glance, when you look closely, there is a slight problem. Children can get a library card as soon as they can write their names. That meant any child with a library card could check out an R-rated movie. I never really considered that there was anything I could do to change this. But the summer before my junior year in high school, I decided maybe there was something I could do.
I felt two people would be more effective than one, so I called my friend Meggie Winn. I explained the situation, which shocked her, and asked her if she wanted to help me do something to change it. She eagerly agreed.
First, we made a petition to get support from city residents. Our petition read: “We, the undersigned, request that the Corona Public Library limit access of R-rated videos, DVDs, etc., to those of age 17 years and older, as is the commonly accepted practice of all other organizations offering such items in our community.” In less than a week, we collected over 1,000 signatures.
What was supposed to be a 20-hour Laurel project ended up lasting over six months. During that time, we participated in meetings with the city council and the library board of trustees.
At the first library board of trustees meeting, Meggie and I were a little nervous. We presented our petition and expressed our concerns regarding the library’s current policy, but we received no more than a “thank you.”
Also attending this meeting was a couple who had become aware of the library policy and had attended the meeting to find out more. Meggie and I were excited to see others concerned about the same issue and were pleasantly surprised when they offered to help us. By the next library board meeting they had collected almost 500 more signatures. They were also a big help in making people in the community aware of this issue.
A few months into this project we received a call from a woman who had read an article in the newspaper about our presentation. She offered to help make people aware of this issue. As a result many other people sent e-mails and made phone calls to the library and city council. It felt odd to have these adults following the lead of two teenage girls.
Although we did have an overwhelmingly positive response, there was opposition as well. Meggie and I always tried to respect those in authority and work within the system. We felt our request was such a simple moral decision that was consistent with every other place that offered videos. However, others didn’t think so.
As the months went by, the opposition stood firm. Soon Meggie and I were being verbally attacked, and false statements were made about the way we had conducted our campaign. A couple of times, we were asked if we wanted to continue with this project. We replied that we would see it through to an acceptable resolution.
We achieved our objective the day before the deadline given to the library board of trustees by the city council. The mayor of Corona was kind enough to help us arrive at an acceptable solution. We finally decided on a policy that allows parents to either restrict or permit their children’s access to R-rated movies. All children’s cards will expire on a certain date, requiring parents to visit the library and choose the level of access they desire for their children.
I found it amazing that with all the emotion, controversy, and delays, the effort of two high school students actually caused people to listen and ultimately change library policy. It took a lot of time and energy to accomplish what we did. But it was worth it all to know that we had persisted and stood for truth and righteousness. In doing so, we found many others were willing to stand with us.

God expresses His love for us by helping us to progress and reach our potential. Perhaps a simple story will illustrate this point. A young man could not get his computer to work properly. Soon he became discouraged. His temper grew short, and he threatened to destroy the computer. His wise father intervened and took his son to a local vendor to get an instruction manual. After all, who would know more about a computer than the person or company that created it? By working within the guidelines given in the instruction book, the boy soon enjoyed the full potential of his computer.

Before I close, I would like to share one more personal example of faith.

During my military career, I have learned to rely and depend on my Father in Heaven and my Savior Jesus Christ so very much.

Upon my arrival at my last duty station in Germany, our faith would really be tested. We arrived in the country shortly after Thanksgiving, and we were waiting for housing to become available. Because of the age of my children, we were told that they could not share a room and will need to have their own rooms, Which meant the waiting period for a home would be a little longer. While waiting in guest housing, my children would walk to school. We were hoping to get housing on the base, which would make things easier for everyone. But shortly after, we would be notified that a home was being made ready for my family out on the economy in a small German town called oxenfurt. While waiting for household goods to be delivered, I would again be notified that my unit would be deploying to turkey in a matter of weeks. As we were getting things ready to deploy, I also needed to make sure my family needs were taken care of. And that is when we realized that my wife's german driver's license had expired the month prior.

You see, before living in Germany, if you had an expired license, you could just take the test to renew it with no problem. But this time around, it was different. It was required that you have a valid U.S license also. So a little bit of panic started to set in, and so it was my fault, like everything that goes wrong my wife tells me is my fault. And my wife started to tell me, did you not listen during the briefings? How could you miss this information? Anyway, I already knew what needed to be done.

My wife would have to fly back to the United States and get a U.S. driver's license and come back to Germany and take the German test all before I deployed in a matter of weeks. So with great faith, that is exactly what we did. She would fly to Texas and take the written test, and the next day takes the driving test, and the next day fly home to Germany and take the written test in German. When I picked up my wife at the airport, I figured she would be hungry after a nine-hour flight, but she said, no, I am not hungry, just take me straight to the DMV while the information was still fresh in my mind. A soldier friend of mine who was also taking the test told me she had passed the written test and was ready to take the signs test in German. She would have to get at least 50 signs correct in order to pass. After much praying and fasting during this whole ordeal, a sign of relief, she was issued a German license, and I knew then that my family would be okay while I deployed to turkey. We know for a surety that all that would not be possible without the help of our savior Jesus Christ.

Let me share with you an example of the results of daily determination and performance.
In 1960 the Olympics were held in Melbourne, Australia. There on the winner’s platform in the spotlight one day stood a beautiful, tall, blonde American girl. She was being presented a gold medal, symbolic of first place in worldwide competition. As she stood there, some boys whistled and others were heard to say, “There’s a gal who has everything.”
Tears ran down her cheeks as she accepted the recognition. Many thought she was touched by the victory ceremony. The thing most of the audience did not know was the story of her determination, self-discipline, and daily action. At the age of five she had polio. When the disease left her body, she couldn’t use her arms or legs. Her parents took her daily to a swimming pool where they hoped the water would help hold her arms up as she tried to use them again. When she could lift her arm out of the water with her own power, she cried for joy. Then her goal was to swim the width of the pool, then the length, then several lengths. She kept on trying, swimming, enduring, day after day after day, until she won the gold medal for the butterfly stroke—one of the most difficult of all swimming strokes—in Melbourne, Australia.
What if Shelly Mann had not been encouraged to achieve at age five and to continue and overcome? What a tremendous asset were parents who assisted her in the importance of now and today in preparation for tomorrow.

Sometimes you can wonder if your offers to be a catcher are ever hitting home. Upon graduation Kim and I packed up our belongings and our new little baby—who is now thirty-two years old—and headed for St. George, Utah, where I began my teaching career. We lived next door to Trish and her husband, Al. Trish wasn’t a member of the Church, and Al was a member but didn’t attend very often. We tried to do all the things a good neighbor does—plates of cookies, Christmas greetings, all that sort of thing—but we never received much reciprocation.

One day, out of the blue, I suggested to Kim that we purchase a gift subscription to the Ensign for Trish and Al. She is used to crazy suggestions from me, so she agreed.

A few months later, while riding my bike home from work, I noticed Trish was standing outside our home looking right at me with a sort of intense look.

I thought, “This is unusual.”

I stopped to greet her, and she asked, ”Are you the one who sent us the Ensign?”

I thought, “Uh oh, I’m in trouble now,” and I meekly replied, “Uh . . . yeah.” How’s that for being bold?

She said, “I want to thank you for sending it to us, and I have one question for you. Would you mind coming to my home and teaching me about your church?”

I baptized Trish three weeks later.

It was my first and only Christmas in the Illinois Chicago (Spanish-speaking) Mission, and I saw that one of our investigators was alone and would have no presents. His name was Tito Portillo. He’d been a Catholic missionary in Mexico, and he was really struggling with accepting the Book of Mormon. We decided to give him a triple combination as a gift.
As we entered his home on Christmas Eve, there was a terrible feeling of loneliness. He was having a hard time being in the United States since his family was in Mexico. But when we gave him the gift, his whole attitude changed. He smiled and we knew he was grateful.
After only a few weeks, he was able to quote scriptures from the Book of Mormon, just as he did from the Bible. He was eventually baptized, and is now serving as a stake missionary, sharing the Book of Mormon with others.
I’m so fortunate to have been there to see the change the Book of Mormon made in his life. What a great gift to each of us from the Lord.
—Debra MaylinEagle, Idaho

Do we really believe that people can change? I believe they can. Intellectually I have known this for years, but I didn’t gain a strong testimony of the principle until I served as a bishop. In this ecclesiastical role I had the opportunity to counsel with a man who was struggling with pornography and had been for many years. I also counseled with his wife about the emotions she was experiencing at this challenging time. Because he had hidden his addiction from her for so long, she didn’t know if he could ever overcome this struggle. She didn’t know if she could ever trust him again.

As we visited one evening, the following thought came clearly to my mind: “If you truly believe in the Atonement of Jesus Christ, you have to believe that people can change. If you don’t believe a person can change, then you don’t believe in the Atonement.” In that moment I was taught by the Holy Ghost for the benefit of this sister. Simultaneously, my testimony of the Atonement’s power to change people also increased.

Now, once you receive it, be obedient to the promptings you receive. I learned a sobering lesson as a mission president. I was also a General Authority. I had been prompted several times, for the good of the work, to release one of my counselors. Besides praying about it, I had reasoned that it was the right thing to do. But I did not do it. I feared that it would injure a man who had given long service to the Church.
The Spirit withdrew from me. I could get no promptings on who should be called as a counselor should I release him. It lasted for several weeks. My prayers seemed to be contained within the room where I offered them. I tried a number of alternate ways to arrange the work, but to no avail. Finally, I did as I was bidden to do by the Spirit. Immediately, the gift returned! Oh, the exquisite sweetness to have the gift again. You know it, for you have it, the gift of the Holy Ghost. And the brother was not injured, indeed he was greatly blessed and immediately thereafter the work prospered.

Juan Cabrera, an 18-year-old from Cuenca, Ecuador, knows what it’s like to be different. He’s one of only a handful of members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in a city of around 500,000 people, and the pressures to give in to temptation are pretty high. But Juan knows that there is a source of strength greater than any temptation.
Even with such deep focus, Juan knows that it’s not easy to stay on target. A few years ago he gained a lot of strength from older young men in his ward. But most of them have moved or have started attending elders quorum, leaving Juan with few Church friends to support him when things got hard. During those times, Juan sought strength from his parents and siblings—and from his Heavenly Father.
“You feel a little alone sometimes because you have different standards, a different way of living, of treating other people, of seeking different things in life. But the truth is,” Juan adds confidently, “you are never alone. We always have prayer, and we can always draw closer to our Heavenly Father. I have always prayed to have the strength to do what’s right, to have the courage to stand up to my friends when they do things that aren’t right.
“And you know what?” he continues. “Sometimes my friends have told me they admire my example and the strength I have to say no.”
Some of the temptations that Juan faced were easy to reject. He could easily say no when a friend would invite him to drink alcohol. That was a clear violation of the commandments.
“But there are times when the temptations are more subtle,” Juan explains. “As it says in the scriptures, sometimes it’s disguised [see Matthew 7:15]. The temptations can appear as though they are nothing bad because they don’t appear to break a specific commandment. That’s when you have to pray to be aware of what’s going on so that you don’t get confused. The Spirit has helped me understand this many times when something is wrong or when people are trying to get me to do bad things.”
As Juan prepares for his mission, he has made some new friends in the Church who support him.
“I’m an example for other youth now, and this has been a blessing for me,” he says. “It helps me understand that the effort to be strong, to be faithful, is worth it.”

“Truck left and get me a two-shot.”
The words come quietly but insistently over the headset to a young cameraman silhouetted against the hot lights of the television studio.
“I thought you just told me to stay with a close-up,” he whisper yells into his microphone. “What’s it going to be?”
“Get the two-shot,” the director insists.
The cameraman wheels his camera to the left, focuses it, locks it in place, and watches as the red light comes on indicating that his camera is live.
The television show being taped is one of a series being produced for cable television by the two wards in Kamloops, British Columbia. The series, the LDS Hour, can be seen on the second Tuesday evening of each month. The show consists of one of the many films produced by the Church, followed by a panel discussion using the theme of that particular film as the topic for comment. The guests on the show, hosted by the stake public communications director, Graham Noble, are local residents, most often nonmembers who are experts in the area being discussed. So far, the program has dealt with such topics as loneliness, alcoholism, genealogy, and self-esteem. The boys who run the cameras, control the sound, and direct the production are from the teachers quorum of the Kamloops Second Ward.
It all started when Brother Noble visited the meetinghouse library and saw that there were nearly 70 Church films available for viewing. He thought that it would be nice to show a film on television once a month. “I figured that with 70 films, we could be on the air for four or five years.”
“I knew people liked Mr. Kreuger’s Christmas, and I thought they might like these other films,” said Brother Noble. “I phoned the television cable company and was invited for an interview. The manager said we couldn’t just show a film. We had to have some local content. He suggested an hour show where we show a half-hour film and discuss it afterward with two or three guests. We set the formula for the show based on his suggestion.”
Before the first episode of the show could go on the air, a crew had to be assembled. The studio personnel would train the people involved to run the cameras and sound equipment and be the floor director. Brother Noble thought of using the young men of the ward. He asked the teachers quorum to help. His aim was to have a trained, established group who would stay with it for several years.
Were there any problems using such an inexperienced young crew? Brother Noble said, “There was some opposition to my using kids. But we stuck with it. They are just the right age to learn.”
It takes a four-man crew to get a show on the air. So far six have worked on the program, Allen Oram, Mike Noble, Martin Kyle, Bill Graham, Doren Quinton, and Chris Arnold. Not only are friends impressed when they beg off from other after-school activities because they “have to go film a television show,” but parents too have been impressed by what their sons have done. Indeed, most of the boys’ families and other ward members tune in to watch the show. But the crew doesn’t always sit back and enjoy the program.
“When we watch the show on Tuesday nights,” said Doren, “we’re critical of how we did.”
Allen quickly added, “We’re getting better all the time.”
Things have not always gone smoothly as the young men were learning how to run the equipment and anticipate the requests of the director. Some of the first tapings were plagued by pictures with no sound and potentially embarrassing zoom shots.
The group learned quickly that they had to do it right the first time. “There are no retakes,” said show host, Brother Noble. “If you stutter or clam up, it’s right there on tape, no second chances. It doesn’t bother me to talk to different people, but once you get under those lights, it shakes you a bit.”
Chris remembers learning about how to produce the show. “I was really surprised at first. The first time was quite rough, but we learned. Now when I watch television, I know what the cameras are doing and when they mess up.”
Martin was also involved in that first program. “Everyone decided on what area they wanted to work, sound or camera. I thought the whole thing was a great idea. I had always wondered how they actually did television productions, and here we were doing it too.”
Martin chose to do the sound mixing. His interest has been stimulated, and he finds that knowing a little has added to his appreciation of professional sound mixers. “I went to a concert, and I was really interested in the complicated sound mixing. It was amazing because I knew just how good it was.”
At first, the LDS Hour seemed to be a service just for Church members. But Brother Noble and the boys found out that the show was being watched by an audience they hadn’t quite expected. They found that members who have not been attending church for years are tuning in.
“They don’t want to commit themselves to attend church meetings, but they want some connection. One lady who watches our show was baptized 33 years ago,” said Brother Noble. “Her home teachers and visiting teachers have never been successful in encouraging her to attend the ward. But she watches the program and calls her friends to watch it.”
The group really didn’t know how well the program was being received until one day the LDS Hour had to be cancelled because of a scheduling conflict with another program the cable station was airing. That was when the telephone started ringing. Viewers wanted to know what had happened to “their” program. The following month the show was back in its scheduled spot, and both the cable station and the local wards were glad to know they had a program that was missed when it didn’t make it on the air.
The young men have caught on that they are involved in something more than just publicity for the Church. They recognize it as a service project. “Yeah, but it’s fun,” is the quick response. It has involved the community because the subjects of the films and the discussions are of general interest.
Bill explains, “It’s not really a preachy show. It’s about good things that society wants. It’s about human relations. It’s something we can all share.”
Bill also tells about one man that was touched directly from the program. “I know a lot of people call their friends and tell them about the show. One man saw the show and called the missionaries and wanted to know more about the Church. It’s a missionary tool. We aren’t directly teaching people, but we’re helping. I like being a part of that.”
The crew has arrived at the studio ready for another taping. With an air of knowing exactly what needs to be done, they quickly arrange the furniture on the set. Chris and Allen pull cables out of the way of their cameras. Martin clips the tiny microphones to their guests’ lapels. Mike is seated at the switching board, giving instructions over his headset.
Suddenly someone yells, “Quiet.” Bill counts down with the fingers of one hand. “Five … four … three … two … we’re on the air.”

I sat and stared in disbelief as Brother Jarman, a member of the branch presidency, waited for my answer.
Maybe he had meant to say teacher or counselor. But he hadn’t. What I heard was correct; he had called me as the Relief Society president in our small branch.
I sat still for some time reflecting on my situation. I was just 27 years old and had never been married. I had recently moved to the area and was beginning a new job as a journalist. My leadership experience was limited. I had served in several callings over the years but never one like this.
Silently I asked myself if I was old enough or experienced enough or if I even had the ability to serve. What could I possibly offer the women of the branch?
I went home that night, knelt in prayer, and asked Heavenly Father for direction. After I finished my prayer, I was instantly drawn to look at my patriarchal blessing. I read this sentence: “You are to be about that work which you were assigned to do now, even while you are young.”
As I read those words, I realized that this was not about my marital status, my age, or what I could do. It was about what the Lord needed me to do. I accepted the calling.

Eva liked nursery. She liked her teachers and singing time. Her favorite song was “Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam.” But now it was time for Eva to go to Primary. Many children were in the Primary room. A teacher said, “Hello, Eva! I am Sister Moya. I am glad you are in our Sunbeam class!” Eva smiled. She liked being a sunbeam. The piano started playing. Eva knew the song! She sang, “Jesus wants me for a sunbeam.” Eva knew she would like being a Sunbeam in Primary.

Could you use some great new friends? Would you like to discover talents you never knew you had? And how’s your self-confidence and poise? Could you use more?
Okay, let’s say you’re interested, but suspicious. What would I have to do? you are wondering. It’s easy. Become a pirate. Or a pioneer. Or a Nephite warrior. In other words, you might consider getting on the stage—and we’re not talking about the first stage out of town, either.
Every year, thousands of LDS youth are making new friends, discovering new talents, and gaining new confidence by getting involved in community theater, stake productions, or pageants.
Wait a minute, where are you going? What was that you mumbled about not being able to sing or dance or act? So what if you’re not one of those people who are loaded with talent and love to perform? Plenty of nonsingers, nondancers, and nonactors are discovering that they can sing and dance and act—at least a little—and they are having a great time doing it. They have no intention of making a career of it, but they are learning worthwhile things about themselves and about life. And they are making new friends and having fun in the bargain.
And those who absolutely don’t want to be in front of the scenery are having lots of fun painting that scenery. Or moving it around. Or handling the lights and sound. Or playing in the orchestra.
Oakley, Idaho, is just north of the Utah-Idaho border. Population: between 600 and 700. This is an unlikely place for an opera house. But it has one. And local youth, most of whom are LDS, are playing major roles in its success.
If the term “opera house” conjures up images of big ladies wearing horned helmets and carrying spears, well, that’s not exactly the kind of opera we’re talking about here. Last summer’s production at Howell’s Opera House featured bumbling cops, bungling pirates, and giggly school girls. Gilbert and Sullivan’s comic opera The Pirates of Penzance is hilarious to watch and even more fun to perform.
But even before the performance, when you visit backstage, the first thing you really notice is the closeness of the cast, the easy-going, comfortable friendships. Downstairs in the crowded “green room” they joke and chat as they help each other with makeup like life-long friends. Only when you talk to cast members do you discover that it was the show that really brought most of them together. They come from all over the area, and they go to several different schools. Some are new to the valley, and this has been a great way to make friends.
Nathan Archibald, 16, and Matt Niu, 18, are good buddies now. But they didn’t even know each other before the play. “That alone is worth your summer,” says Nate.
Melanie Ricks, 18, agrees. For her, the cast is the best part of the show. “I’ve made a lot of friendships I wouldn’t have made otherwise.”
Okay, time to change scenes (notice the theatrical term). Now the setting is the Salt Lake Valley. Earlier this year, the Sandy Utah Stake staged Promised Valley, which portrays the sacrifices of the pioneers and the Mormon Battalion. This musical drama has its humorous moments, but it centers around the pioneer experience, the hardships and separations and the faith they required. This makes it very different from The Pirates of Penzance. But if you put the two casts together to compare experiences, they would have a lot in common—like the friendship element.
On a Saturday morning at the Sandy stake center, one of the final rehearsals is taking place. There’s an air of controlled chaos as the orchestra tunes and practices and groups of performers mill around waiting their turns. You see them everywhere in small groups in the halls, the foyers, and corners of the cultural hall: friends, like Justin Dunslow and Thomas Hood. Both are 17 and both are very busy in school, and one of the best things about being in this play together, Justin says, is “it’s brought our friendship closer.”
Obviously, friendships are not the only thing that grows when you answer the casting call. Some of the kids in both Oakley and Sandy are old hands in the theater, with experience in numerous church, school, and community productions. Others are just beginning to discover what they can do. But everyone is discovering new talents and abilities.
Eli Hansen, 15, from Burley, Idaho, was taking an acting class in high school and thought Pirates would be fun. “I learned I have some talents I’ve never used before,” he says. “I didn’t know I could dance or sing. Now they’re getting me into the ward choir.”
Jud Vorwaller, 19, was in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat the summer before. In his senior year he sang in his high school choir. “I didn’t know I could sing,” Jud says. “A friend prompted me to try out. I didn’t want to because I was shy. Last year I had one solo and I was scared to death to do it. Opening night was nerve-racking. This year [when he had a lead role] I wasn’t nervous. I knew I had a lot to do, and if I got nervous, I was really in trouble.”
What has this experience done for Jud? “I’m not nearly as shy as before. I have more confidence in myself.” For someone headed for the mission field, that’s not a bad accomplishment.
Spencer Williams, 17, had a role as a Mormon Battalion member in Promised Valley, a part that required him to sing a solo. “I don’t like it much,” he admitted before the performance. And the thought of singing on the stage at the University of Utah’s Kingsbury Hall was kind of intimidating. But he went through with it. “It was a good experience,” he reported later. “Each night I got a little better.”
To be honest, Spencer didn’t sound like he was anxious to try out for a solo part again. And Thomas Hood, who had acted in his high school’s production of Arsenic and Old Lace, was pretty frank in evaluating his musical talents. “I found out I can’t sing,” he said good-naturedly. But even those who found singing a real stretch enjoyed their overall experience.
Speaking of music, one of the most obvious places to use a musical talent is in the orchestra pit. It’s hard work, say Shane Larsen, 14, and his brother Joseph, 16. When you point out to Shane that nobody really sees the orchestra, he says, “Yes, but they hear us. And if the music isn’t good, the play won’t be any good either.” Joseph admits that when he was on stage in previous productions, he kind of took the orchestra for granted, too. But not any more.
Of course, when it comes to being seen, no one would be seen—or heard—if the stage and sound and light crews were not on the job. Sandy stake’s Thomas Craft, 19, has acted in some productions, but he prefers to work behind the scenes. “Backstage people don’t always get credit, but they are very important for the play to turn out the way it should.”
Which brings up some of the things the stage can teach you about life. Kaisa Hansen was in Pirates. Now she’s a student at BYU. As much as anything, performing gave her an appreciation for the work of others. “When you get involved, you see how much people do behind the scenes. I have started realizing how much work people put into things. And when you are involved in something with other people, and you just play a small role, you are part of the glue that holds things together.”
Eli Hansen, 15, of Burley, talks about another lesson learned from the stage: “When you’re not part of the action, don’t upstage the others. Focus attention on them. Stay in character all the time. There’s always somebody watching you. You represent the Church name, your family name, even your employer. You have to be ‘on’ around the clock.”
When you get involved in stake productions or even Church pageants, there are still more lessons learned—things that shape and strengthen your testimony. Many of those who performed in Promised Valley volunteered that the experience had given them a greater appreciation of the pioneers and of their own heritage. As Spencer Williams notes, “To get into character, you have to imagine what it would have been like.” For him, the miracle of the crickets and the seagulls took on much deeper meaning.
Just like the friendships formed, those kinds of experiences can stay with you for years. Amy Hill, 18, of the Taylorsville Utah Central Stake, remembers when she was in her stake’s performance of the Book-of-Mormon-based A Day, a Night, and a Day. Amy was a ninth grader and had only a small nonspeaking part. But she has vivid memories of “acting out the Book of Mormon, thinking, Wow! this is so cool. This is how it would have felt.” Would she do it again? “I’d definitely recommend that kind of experience. I miss it sometimes.”
So what do the critics say? You’ve just heard from the critics who matter most—the people who have done it. So next time you have a chance to get on the stage (or behind the scenes, or in the orchestra pit) don’t start looking for the first stage out of town. If you want to develop friends, talents, and self-confidence, that stake musical or school play or community theater may be just the ticket.
Be a critic. The world judges plays and musicals as good or bad based on how well they are written and performed. Latter-day Saints must be concerned about content. What is the message? Are language and costumes appropriate? If you have to “become your character” in order to act well, what kind of character are you being asked to play? Several of the young people we talked to indicated that they were touched emotionally and spiritually by what they were portraying.
Be aware. There are lots of opportunities to get involved in wholesome theater. Most—but not all—school plays are safe. (Get a look at the script if you are unsure.) Stake and ward productions are a wonderful opportunity for friendships and personal growth. And many communities—especially those with a strong LDS influence—have local theater companies that have high moral standards. Ask around.
Be prepared to commit yourself and work hard. Rehearsals can be boring and tiring. But when everything comes together, the payoff can be terrific.