Gospel Story Finder

Outside of the airport, a man was waiting with our names and a taxi to take us to the temple where we were going to stay. Before we got there, we stopped by a supermarket to buy some groceries. The following day, my husband received his own endowment, and we did a few more sessions, spending the day at the temple. Then the big day arrived for our family sealing. Everyone there had heard about us and knew what we were there for. On that day we had the temple to ourselves. We got ready, and when we arrived, some missionary couples were there to assist us. When we got to the sealing room, everything was prepared; we were sealed first, and then our two daughters were sealed to us. It was the most wonderful thing, the way that we felt is unexplainable. There was not a dry eye in the room. All the missionaries who were there and the sister who had fed us at the airport was there, and they were all in tears. The Spirit was so strong and was felt by everyone in the room.

There are many ways bishops and quorum members can help to relieve the suffering and anxiety of the unemployed. Phil’s Auto of Centerville, Utah, is a testament of what priesthood leadership and a quorum can accomplish. Phil was a member of an elders quorum and worked as a mechanic at a local automobile repair shop. Unfortunately, the repair shop where Phil worked experienced economic trouble and had to let Phil go from his job. He was devastated by this turn of events.

On hearing about Phil’s job loss, his bishop, Leon Olson, and his elders quorum presidency prayerfully considered ways they could help Phil get back on his feet. After all, he was a fellow quorum member, a brother, and he needed help. They concluded that Phil had the skills to run his own business. One of the quorum members offered that he had an old barn that perhaps could be used as a repair shop. Other quorum members could help gather needed tools and supplies to equip the new shop. Almost everyone in the quorum could at least help clean the old barn.

They shared their ideas with Phil; then they shared their plan with the members of their quorum. The barn was cleaned and renovated, the tools gathered, and all was put in order. Phil’s Auto was a success and eventually moved to better and more permanent quarters—all because his quorum brothers offered help in a time of crisis. Priesthood quorums can and must make a difference.

“One day in my early teens a remarkable boy gave me a copy of English poems with pages torn, worn, and soiled, but it changed my life. One verse was marked: ‘Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, or what’s a heaven for?’

“So wrote English poet Robert Browning decades before I read it that day and I took it personally, appropriate to my self-discovery, of hopeful idealism and firming philosophy.

“Worn leather volumes containing William Shakespeare, William Wordsworth, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and Geoffrey Chaucer were passed into my hands by this boy who understood the grasp-and-reach theory. The public library provided me with ugly, stiff, practical new bindings of Charles Dickens and Robert Louis Stevenson and Ralph Waldo Emerson’s essay ‘Friendship.’

“I loved all these books unabashedly.

“This boy and I couldn’t understand everything we read, but it was so exhilarating trying to understand that it was like coming in with the tide. Stretching our minds in the reading and then struggling to say it back in our own words to each other kept our relationship going one swift summer and was the basis for a lifelong friendship.”

Yupha Thubthimthong stood transfixed at the scene before her. Fear, revulsion, and horror overwhelmed her; she longed to turn away, not wanting to be part of it, even to help. Before her lay the carnage of a train wreck—a passenger train from Ban Pong and a cargo train headed for southern Thailand had collided head-on near the station, derailing the passenger train. Many people had been killed, and many more were severely injured, trapped in the smoldering wreckage.
Yupha, a member of the Woman’s Welfare Services Society of Thailand, had been summoned to help. She had stopped only long enough to put on the blue uniform of the Society and then had rushed to the scene of the accident. But she had not been prepared for the terrible sight that confronted her. As she hesitated a “light whisper” seemed to say to her: “You are a Latter-day Saint. You must let your light shine for the world to see. You must be strong enough, patient enough, and brave enough to go and help.” Strengthened and fortified by the voice, she took a deep breath and began the gruesome task of pulling bodies from the wreckage and preparing the injured for transportation to the hospital.
Though the entire area seem covered with blood and a foul odor hung in the air, Yupha worked on determinedly and soon came upon a woman nearly crushed under a heavy gas storage tank. Yupha rushed to help her, realizing as she drew closer that the woman was pregnant and quite near her delivery time. As the tank was lifted, the infant was born. Overwhelmed, Yupha excused herself. She needed time to regain her courage once again.
Groping blindly for a place to calm herself, she was confronted suddenly by a woman waving a stick who raged at her, “My children are dead because of you! Look at the destruction your carelessness and negligence have caused!” Yupha staggered back from the threatened assault, confused at first at the woman’s accusations. The woman was overcome with grief, because she had lost two children in the train wreck and had found only one of the bodies. The poor mother had seen Yupha’s uniform and mistaken her for a railroad employee.
As calmly as she could, Yupha explained that she was not working for the railroad, that she had come only to help. Three police officers noticed the conflict and warned the raging mother that she would be arrested should she harm Yupha.
“What if that mother were me?” Yupha thought to herself. “Wouldn’t I be crazy with grief, too?” She turned to the policemen and said, “No, please don’t harm her. She is only reacting out of grief.” Surprised, the police protested that the woman had tried to hit Yupha and might try to do so again.
“I am not afraid,” she replied. “Heavenly Father teaches that we are all brothers and sisters; we must love one another. She will not harm me.”
Doubtfully the police released the woman, and Yupha returned to her grisly tasks. The difficult and heart-rending work took several more hours.
At length a search was started among the workers for someone with blood type “O”. A small girl was about to undergo surgery, and the hospital had exhausted its blood supply. Without the blood and surgery the child would die. Yupha volunteered and rode to the hospital to donate the needed blood. She had never before given blood, and because it was so badly needed more than the usual amount (4.7 deciliters) was drawn out of Yupha’s veins. A feeling of urgency hung over the hospital and the workers. Not realizing she should rest after blood is drown, Yupha left the hospital and returned once again to the accident scene.
By late in the afternoon the worst tasks had been accomplished, and Yupha’s thoughts returned to her own children and their needs. She got ready to go home. But before she could go, a railroad official requested that the volunteer workers meet at the hospital where Yupha had donated blood. The director wanted to meet them and express his appreciation.
The Minister of Public Health thanked the workers also, and while they were talking the grief-stricken mother from the station entered the room, searching about for someone. A doctor with her called out, “Is there a Mrs. Yupha here?” (It is the custom in Thailand to address people by their title and first name rather than the last name as in English-speaking countries.) Knowing she must acknowledge who she was, Yupha nodded rather reluctantly. By this time the woman had seen Yupha, ran to her, embraced her, then began to cry.
Yupha stared at the doctor, bewildered. “Your donation of blood saved this woman’s daughter,” he explained. “She has come to thank you.”
Yupha’s face showed her relief as the woman tearfully expressed her gratitude, then commented, “How can you stay so calm? When I have been so angry with you, you remain serene. What makes you like that?”
Yupha’s answer was much the same as she had given the police officers earlier: “My church teaches that we are all brothers and sisters and should love one another no matter who it is or what they do.”
While this scene took place, Dr. Martin, the Minister of Public Health looked on. He was greatly impressed with Yupha and her response to the once grief-stricken but now joyous mother.
Dr. Martin was in an unusual position. He had previously been head of the Department of Education, which supervised the Department of Religion, and this latter department had imposed visa restrictions on the LDS missionaries. Dr. Martin’s response was therefore a welcome one. Noting the beautiful way in which Yupha reacted to a difficult situation, he recognized the fruits of LDS missionary work and promised that in the future he would work toward easing visa restrictions.
Meanwhile, the grateful mother pressed Yupha for more information on the Church and its teachings.
“May I come to your church when I have been to the funeral of my child?”
“You are always welcome,” Yupha assured her.
At last the long, eventful day was over. Yupha returned home to her own children, exhausted, but warm with the knowledge that she had listened to the “light whisper” of the Spirit and put her faith into action.

That summer I went to Japan to stay with the family of our foreign exchange student for five weeks. During my stay, I went four weeks without going to church. Finally, in the very last week, we stopped by the Tokyo Japan Temple to take pictures. In a strange country where the language and customs were so foreign to me, it was the most comforting feeling to finally be in a familiar place. The Spirit there was so strong.
That Sunday we found a ward building, and I attended church. It was amazing to experience sacrament meeting and Sunday School in Japanese, but what hit me most was when I went to Young Women. Seeing those few Japanese girls rise and say the theme, I realized that the gospel was just as strong halfway across the world as it was at home. I knew that many of these members didn’t have the support from friends and family that I did, but they still believed. Again, I felt at home.

I am familiar with a ward that struggled with an ineffective ward council. It was difficult for the bishop to embrace the direction found in Handbook 2 because he was comfortable in his ways and liked his old patterns. After much counseling and training by a loving stake president, however, the bishop softened his heart, repented, and began in earnest to organize the ward council as instructed. He watched training videos available at LDS.org, he read sections 4 and 5 of Handbook 2, and he acted upon what he learned.
Members of the ward council quickly embraced the changes, and a spirit of love and unity settled on them as they focused on strengthening individuals and families. In every meeting, they spoke at length about investigators, new converts, less-active members, and members with needs. Their hearts began to be drawn out to these brothers and sisters, and miracles began to happen.
The bishop reported that almost immediately after these changes were made to the ward council, previously unknown less-active members began to attend church. These members said they suddenly felt moved upon to return to the Church. They said they had received a clear and compelling impression that they needed to once again associate with the Saints. They knew they would be loved and that they needed the support members would offer.
The bishop shared with me that he is certain Heavenly Father was just waiting for him to follow the counsel he had received and organize the ward council as instructed before He could put the desire into the hearts and minds of these less-active members to return to activity in the Church. The bishop realized that he needed to create the loving, nurturing environment these members needed before the Spirit would lead them back. His words remind me of the experience of Peter the fisherman:
“And [Jesus] entered into one of the ships, which was Simon’s, and prayed him that he would thrust out a little from the land. And he sat down, and taught the people out of the ship.
“Now when he had left speaking, he said unto Simon, Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught.
“And Simon answering said unto him, Master, we have toiled all the night, and have taken nothing: nevertheless at thy word I will let down the net.
“And when they had this done, they inclosed a great multitude of fishes” (Luke 5:3–6).
As we listen to and follow the counsel given us by modern-day prophets, seers, and revelators—true “fishers of men”—and as we inspect and mend our nets while serving, our capacity to hasten the work of salvation will be greatly increased and we will become instruments in Heavenly Father’s hands to gather His children.

Melissa tells of an experience at school. “In my home economics class we were learning how to make tea. I had to explain to the teacher that it’s part of our religion to keep our bodies healthy, and that I couldn’t drink that kind of tea because there are bad things in it. Everyone was surprised when she gave me special permission to make herbal tea separately from the rest of the class, and I got to tell a lot of people about the Word of Wisdom.”

On another occasion, I met a young man 14 years of age who was a superb tennis player. He had won all of the tennis tournaments in his class in an area that included several states. He had reached the semifinals of a very important tournament that was to take place in a distant city. As he arrived there, he found that he was scheduled to participate on Sunday. He went to the officials and told them he didn’t play tennis on Sunday; whereupon he was informed that if he wanted to play in this tournament, he would play on Sunday. He again indicated he would not play on Sunday, knowing that not to do so would mean he would forfeit the match. As it happened, the matches were rained out on Sunday. He played on Monday and won.
He then went by bus with the other finalists to another major city to compete in the championship matches that covered the entire Atlantic coastal region of the United States. They arrived on Sunday. The coach instructed the contestants to get out on the tennis courts and practice immediately upon arrival. This young man did not go to the tennis courts. The coach asked him why he wasn’t practicing. He said, “I don’t play tennis on Sunday.” The coach asked him why. His response was, “I am a Mormon.”
I suppose he wanted to win the championship for his age group more than anything else, and yet he himself had made the decision that keeping the Sabbath day holy was more important than being a champion in tennis. You see, he had found himself and had the courage and integrity to live his life according to the principles he had been taught, and he had made his decision regardless of social pressures.

Most teachers never realize the full impact of their teaching. I am certain a special Primary teacher never anticipated that the way she taught would impress me so much that many years later I would emulate her teaching technique in a boardroom in New York City. She was very skilled in holding our attention by the use of visual aids. A flannel board, which she used in her presentations, was popular in those days.
Now, fast-forward with me to a critical time in my professional career. In 1962 I accepted a position in New York as the controller of a large retail firm. One of my new responsibilities was to make a budget presentation to the board of directors. Weeks before the presentation, I was called into the office of the president of the firm and told how demanding the board of directors was on the person who presented the budget. I was warned to make a presentation that would captivate the board and guarantee support for our proposed budget. I left his office feeling overwhelmed and burdened with self-doubt.
The next day I visited the boardroom, looked around, and tried to find a way that I could make the presentation effective. As I sat in the boardroom, I observed a large piece of flannel that covered the better part of the wall. I’m sure it had been placed there for its acoustic value. As I looked at the large piece of flannel, I thought of my Primary teacher and the use of the flannel board. I sent to Salt Lake for some flannel-backed paper. When it arrived, I prepared three different projections of the budget on that paper. As the budget presentation was made and the discussion followed, I could pull off one budget projection and replace it with another as appropriate. The members of the board were fascinated with my presentation using the flannel board technique. Each time I would present one of our second options and tell the board the consequences, they would immediately go back to the first budget projection, the one we really wanted to have approved. The presentation seemed to be very effective, and when it was over, I was complimented, thanks to my Primary teacher. I don’t know if the presentation was the reason or not, but the following week I was called into the president’s office and informed that the board of directors had approved my promotion from the management level to the officer level.
This is just a simple example of how effective teaching, whether it be in the home, a Church classroom, or some other place, can have a profound effect on an individual and his or her future. A great teacher can make a great difference in a great many lives.

We are all struggling and broken in some fashion. We are vulnerable, embarrassed, disappointed, discouraged, weary, insecure, lonely, afraid. Our weaknesses, imperfections, and challenges can easily overwhelm and consume us. We hesitate all too often to reach out and be deeply seen by others. Perhaps this simple story will illustrate this point.
When Carter was in first grade, he and his buddies were out in our backyard jumping on the trampoline. He slipped as he jumped off and came down hard on his arm. Needless to say, he broke it. Not just a little fracture, but a major break. As we headed into the emergency room, he would only let his dad touch his arm. I ended up carrying him, and his dad carefully held a pillow under Carter’s floppy little arm. During our short drive to town, I mentioned that we better call Grandma and tell her what had happened. He just groaned, “Don’t do that. She’ll just worry about me.” I explained that if we told her, then she could pray for him. I will never forget his sweet testimony as he responded emphatically, “Well, then tell everyone!” He understood at that young age that there is power that comes when people pray for you, trusting that God will hear and answer those prayers. As we seek help from the Savior to heal and change us through prayer, fasting, scripture study, worshipping in the temple, and asking for priesthood blessings, may we also invite those we trust into our story to love us, care for us, and pray for us when we are down and broken.

Some of you may have read in the March issue of the New Era the story of a handicapped girl named Jenni. She was lonely and not very attractive. One day she said to her classmates, “I need a friend. I need someone who will eat lunch with me. Who will be my friend?” One girl stood and said, “I will be your friend,” and then another did likewise. They ate lunch with her. They encouraged her. They helped her. They brought new life into the dark world of this handicapped girl. And in the process they brought new happiness into their own lives. (See Victor W. Harris, “The Miracle of Jenni,” New Era, Mar. 1996, 12–14.)

In March of 2003, one of my good friends, Bret, invited me to help with his Eagle Scout project. After school the next day we drove in his truck with another friend of ours, Camden, to where the project would be. Inspired by the Spirit, Bret directed Camden to a Book of Mormon situated in a holder in the passenger-side door. He told him to open to a verse he had recently read in the Book of Alma. My interest was sparked, and for the first time, I saw the book I wanted so very badly. However, I was too scared to say anything right then. Upon returning that evening, I worked up the confidence to ask Bret for the book. He happily gave it to me and told me to read it. That night I read nine chapters. From the moment I picked up the book, I fell in love with its message.

An important dimension in learning to laugh at ourselves lies in not being afraid to make a mistake. When I was a bishop, we sought to have a ward choir. We had a good leader, Brother Anderson. However, he encouraged me to sing in the choir. I felt that as a measure of support for Brother Anderson and the others, I should try to sing with them, but things went from bad to worse.

Brother Anderson liked to invite the choir members to improve their talents by singing solos. One Sunday during choir practice he asked that I sing a small solo. I found it very difficult to turn him down in front of the choir, so during sacrament meeting, when the choir sang I tried to sing the solo. I was so frightened that the paper trembled in my hand, and I could hardly hold it. I felt embarrassed and humiliated. All of my mask of dignity was gone.

After the meeting, as I walked down the aisle, I was met with warm smiles and expressions of understanding and support. Someone said, “Bishop, it surely makes us feel good to see you scared.” That day the bishop became more human.

As a young man, David O. McKay took a summer job delivering newspapers to a mining town. He made friends with the miners, and they were always glad to see him.
Miner: Here comes David with our newspapers!
David: Good afternoon, gentlemen.
The trip took five hours each way. This gave David plenty of time to read books, memorize quotations, and learn from the scriptures. He loved learning! Sometimes he stopped to pray about gaining a testimony.
David never stopped learning. When he was President of the Church, some of his sermons included quotes he had memorized long before while riding his horse.

Let’s all learn from my friend Mick. One day he was swimming at a party given by the company for which he was working that summer in Nebraska. He dove into the water and hit a shallow spot very hard. A broken neck was his diagnosis, and his whole body was immediately paralyzed. He even lost the capacity to breathe. The doctor said, “He may not make it through the night.”
He had earned a B.A. degree in political science after serving a mission in Japan. At the time of this tragic accident he had just one year left in law school at BYU. He was married and had two children. This tragic accident changed his whole life, as if from day to night. He wasn’t sure whether he would make it until the next day. It was inconceivable, the emotional and physical pain that he must go through as a quadriplegic.
Even though he was in this condition in the University of Utah Medical Center, he was determined to graduate from law school. It was an almost impossible task, but good friends, true Samaritans, brought him notes and taped lectures from Provo. Oh, God bless these true Christians. He turned pages by a mouthstick, and if his book flipped shut, he waited for a long time until someone came to help him.
Finally, he graduated from law school, passed the Utah bar exam, and became a licensed attorney. While he was studying, exercising, and maintaining doctor’s contact to gain strength, his wife took his two sons and divorced him. This was the most “sorrowful and very heavy” period of his life. (Matt. 26:37.) But he never complained and even blessed the leaving loved ones. In his heart he prayed, “Thy will be done, O Lord!” (Matt. 26:42.) It was his own Garden of Gethsemane, and he took his own cup and drank it as his blessing.
My friend Mick met a most beautiful lady, Cheryl. They married and now the greatest joy has come to their lives. His wife is expecting a baby. It is a miracle. The Lord said, “I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless.” Last Friday, they were sealed in the temple for time and for all eternity. It was my privilege to perform the ceremony for this beautiful couple.
His stake president, President Banks, described him as “a most humble person with strong faith,” and his secretary said of him, “Time has always been important to him. A span of a few brief seconds means the difference. He has no wasted time. He has accomplished more than ever.”

Eleven-year-old Samuel Briones of the Primavera Ward, Guadalajara México Moctezuma Stake, helped interest his schoolteacher in the gospel by inviting her to the open house for the Guadalajara temple. After her visit, she began meeting with the missionaries. The man who taught karate to Samuel and his 12-year-old brother, José Julio, became interested in the gospel because of his association with the two boys; he was baptized and now serves as stake executive secretary.

“Many are looking for the truth, but they don’t know where it is,” says the boys’ father, also José Julio. It is easy to share beliefs with people when we, as members, are attentive enough to the Holy Ghost to know their need, Brother Briones says. His wife, Josefina, learned that the seeds we plant may take time to sprout, then grow quickly. She had shared her beliefs with one couple who seemed ready to listen but declined her invitations to attend Church meetings because of conflicts in their schedule. When they finally were able to attend with her, even she was surprised at how readily and quickly they accepted the gospel.

The island of Tahiti claims the bulk of the 150,000 people who make up the scattered population of French Polynesia—a self-governing French territory which elects its own members to the French parliament. Since it is a French territory and not an independent nation, Tahiti cannot enter its soccer teams in the World Cup or the Olympic Games. However, it does have a right to compete in the South Pacific Games, held every four years.
In the South Pacific Games held in Suva, Fiji, in 1979, Erroll Bennett’s strong stand on the sanctity of Sunday was to have remarkable consequences.
In the preliminary discussions with the Fijians in the months before the games, Napoléon Spitz had anticipated that the Sunday issue might again present a problem. He was right. The Fijians scheduled the soccer final on Sunday, and the issue was still unresolved when the Tahitian athletic delegation arrived in Suva, with Napoléon Spitz at its head.
In fact, the Sunday issue was not new to the games. Tonga and Samoa had raised objections in previous years, also on religious grounds, but had not managed to force a change. In 1979, however, things were to be different.
Napoleon Spitz was well-prepared. Armed with a half-forgotten and long-neglected clause in the South Pacific Games Constitution, he pointed out that the rules actually prohibited Sunday games and that he would insist they be applied.
“The soccer games were taken off Sundays,” he now relates. “There was no way I could have accepted Erroll not playing, and since he wouldn’t play on a Sunday, that was the only alternative. I remember they agreed to move the basketball games from Sunday also, because there were five Mormon basketball players in the Tahitian group.” And his face breaks into a wide smile as he adds: “You Mormons have created a real mess in South Pacific sports!”
After months of negotiations, the 1979 games finally arrived. The Tahitian soccer team, led by its LDS captain, won its quarter-finals match against the New Hebrides (now the independent nation of Vanuatu), after it was switched from Sunday to Monday. Tahiti followed it with a semi-finals win against New Caledonia—and then climaxed the series with a finals win over Fiji.

I broke up with my first boyfriend on a clear summer night.
Earlier that day, Carter (name has been changed) and I had been fighting—which wasn’t abnormal in our three-year, on-and-off relationship. We fought about everything—from what to eat to future plans. In the beginning, I waved our differences aside with the adage that “opposites attract.” But our occasional playful banter eventually morphed into an exhausting chain of disagreements.
That summer night we had taken a telescope into the desert to look at the planets. But we found that the brightness of the moon against the dark sky obscured our view. Frustrated, we started arguing—again.
I ended up walking off to compose myself. “This isn’t me,” I thought. I was known as the peacemaker among my siblings, and I spoke gently and kindly to my other friends. So why was I yelling at the guy I claimed to love?
I looked up at the dark sky and prayed to know how I could improve my relationship with Carter. Suddenly, overwhelming peace replaced my anger, and I felt impressed that the best thing I could do for both of us was to end our relationship.
Healing took time. There were moments I was tempted to dismiss the prompting to break up with Carter because I missed the familiarity of our relationship. I sometimes felt frustrated at God, believing that He had slammed one door shut without opening another. Even so, I clung to the counsel of Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles: “In moments of fear or doubt or troubling times … hold fast to what you already know and stand strong until additional knowledge comes” (“Lord I Believe,” Liahona, May 2013, 93–94).
I didn’t receive that “additional knowledge” for many months, and I began to wonder if I ever would. After one of my heartfelt prayers about the breakup, the Spirit pressed on my heart, telling me that Heavenly Father’s promptings are for the well-being of His children. The details of His reasoning aren’t as relevant as my faith in Him is.
Knowing that Heavenly Father had a plan for me gave me hope for my future and helped me to start dating again. One morning I read Doctrine and Covenants 88:40, where the Lord teaches that “light cleaveth unto light.” I suddenly realized that this principle can apply to dating. I knew I would be happier with someone who shared my values and light.
I eventually met Austin. We connected instantly, from our love of tacos to our respective stateside missions. His gentle spirit felt familiar and compatible with mine, and I eventually married him. What we have isn’t an explosive relationship like you might expect in a popular romance movie. It’s sweet and stable—something I believe can last forever.
Many of us yearn for an explanation when we receive difficult promptings. From my experience, I learned that faith in the Lord can help us remain obedient without knowing the why. As we trust in an all-knowing God, we can feel peace in our decisions to act on promptings until we do receive the “additional knowledge” He has promised the faithful.

An experience during my first year of junior high school could have left me emotionally wounded and scarred for years; but it turned out to be one of the best times in my life—all because of a very special friend.
That year, the girls my age started forming groups. There were several different groups, but “the group” consisted of the most popular girls in the school. All of my friends belonged to the group and so did I to begin with, but then something happened. I’m not exactly sure what.
One day Bonnie, one of the most popular girls in school, came up to me and told me I was kicked out of the group.
“But why?” I asked. “What did I do?”
“We just don’t want you to hang around us anymore,” said Bonnie.
I realized then that I needed to find a new friend. I figured I could make the group jealous and they’d realize they weren’t hurting me. So I made a new friend. Her name was Vicki. I picked Vicki because I was certain that the group would never pay any attention to her. She was really short, fragile, and not exactly pretty. But she turned out to be a terrific friend.
Vicki and I shared a lot of good times together. We both seemed to enjoy doing the same kinds of things. I was beginning to like being around her so much that I decided I didn’t need the group as long as there was Vicki.
Shortly after Vicki and I became friends, we were sitting on the school lawn sharing pop and candy and doing a lot of laughing. All of a sudden, Vicki got real serious. She stopped laughing and began fumbling with a candy wrapper. When she finally looked at me, I could tell she had something important on her mind.
“What’s up?” I asked.
Vicki struggled for a minute to control her voice before answering. “I’ve never had a best friend before,” she said looking at me straight in the eye. “Can we promise we’ll be best friends forever?”
“Sure,” I said feeling great. I smiled as I picked up a candy wrapper. “I’d like that, too.”
Some time later, the group started to take notice of Vicki. “Come on, Vicki,” they’d say. “Come eat with us,” or “Why don’t you hang around with us, Vicki?”
At first, Vicki declined, but then the invitations got to be too irresistible.
I remember that day clearly. When I got to school, I headed straight for Vicki’s locker as usual. From down the hall I could see the group surrounding her. The closer I came, the louder and merrier their laughter grew. A couple of my former friends looked sideways at me before throwing their heads back in forced bursts of laughter.
Vicki didn’t look at me. She was too absorbed in all the attention. I guess I couldn’t blame her for that. But had she already forgotten our promise?
Just then the girls in the group all linked arms with Vicki in the middle and gaily marched down the hall. They went right by me as if I weren’t even there.
This time I was really upset. I tried not to let the group see how much they were hurting me, but they could tell they were getting through.
Then one day it happened—one of the greatest experiences of my life. Suddenly I realized I had a friend that the group could never take away, someone who would always be there, someone I could talk to at any time, someone who would never forsake me.
As I made this startling discovery, I noticed a warm sensation starting to grow in my heart. It grew until I felt totally engulfed in it. I realized that it was my Heavenly Father telling me that he loves me. I wanted to shout, laugh, or cry. I felt so new, so special, so loved.
A short time later, Bonnie approached me. “How ya doing?” she asked uncomfortably.
“Fine,” I said with a puzzled expression. There was a lengthy lapse of silence as she struggled to continue.
“We were just wondering,” Bonnie began, “we thought that you might like to hang around with us again. You see, we had a vote and well, most of us still like you.”
“Thanks,” I said, “I’ll see what I can do.” It felt good to have them want me back, but I realized then that being in the group somehow wasn’t all that important anymore.
Through that experience, I had found a true friend whom I wanted to do something for, in return for what He had done for me. I remembered the scripture that said: “Go, and do thou likewise” (Luke 10:37). So I started looking around for someone who needed a friend.

I have had the gospel in my home from birth, and thus my parents have always taken care to teach me good principles. In spite of that, I changed a lot during my junior high school years. I decided to take the way that seemed more fun and apparently easier too. I let myself be guided by my friends’ counsel to dress inappropriately, to go to undesirable parties, and even to use bad language once in a while.
At the same time, I started to have problems with my parents and I stopped reading the scriptures. Being popular was most important to me, and going to parties and dressing like my friends seemed good. But in reality I felt empty inside and more alone than ever. I had no peace of mind because I always had something to hide from my parents for fear of being scolded. Something always told me that I was doing wrong, but I still chose to follow my friends and be popular. It was not until the last part of ninth grade that I started feeling that everything that was said in church was especially prepared for me. During a sacrament meeting, the talks that were given were so much what I needed that I turned to my mother and asked her, “Mom, what have you told them about me?” She said that she hadn’t said anything to the speakers about me. It was then that I decided to change, and it was then that my friends turned their backs on me. I felt really bad. But I accepted that my parents had always been right. I came to realize that they were my only true friends.
It was not easy to make the change. I needed to be humble to recognize that I had been wrong. I really wanted to be different, so I began to work with Personal Progress. I started to feel better about myself little by little, experience by experience. Sometimes it was very hard to complete the value experiences, such as reading the scriptures. But even when I would just make the effort, I would feel better.
The first time I finished reading the Book of Mormon, I could feel that everything my parents had taught me about the Church was true, and I could draw nearer to Christ. When I began working on the Laurel projects, I started feeling satisfied with myself, and I began to feel the peace that I had been looking for through service to others in my Good Works projects.
I now have my medallion, and I think it was worth the effort. To me, it is more than a necklace. It really means my feeling of love to my Heavenly Father. It represents my personal worthiness, and it motivates me to go on doing what Christ wants me to do.
I am so grateful for the opportunity we have been given to choose between right and wrong, and I am also grateful for the opportunity to learn from our mistakes. The joy I now feel when I feel the love of Christ through my service to others and the knowledge of my worth has no comparison with my feelings of being popular in school. By now probably nobody in my junior high school remembers me, but I feel happy to know that Christ knows me and knows of my love for Him.
I know we can overcome the challenges that come our way because we are daughters of a Heavenly Father who loves us, and He will not let us be tempted more than we can resist. I know that Joseph Smith was a true prophet, just like President Hinckley is a prophet. I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.