Gospel Story Finder

A few years ago, on a beautiful fall evening, my wife and I were in the temple in Kirtland, Ohio. It was late fall, and the afternoon sun was streaking through the old, wavy, hand-blown windowpanes. The building was light and airy and magnificent. Since some of my forebears helped in its construction, I was humbled and honored to be under its roof. Within its walls and under its spell, I was enchanted by its beauty. I was so impressed with the building that I came back to Church headquarters and told the Brethren that it would be wonderful if that building were still operating as one of our temples.
Elder Boyd K. Packer corrected my thinking when he said, “We do not have the building, but when our people left, they took with them that which was important. They preserved the keys of the ordinances, the covenants, and the sealing power. They took with them all the essentials which we have today.”

Let me share an experience with you of the faith and the appreciation of the Saints in the islands of the sea for the contributions you have made in strengthening and building their lives; for your prayers; for your sons and your daughters, and for the great missionary couples who have been sent to their lands to teach the message of the restoration. Tears of thanks and of faith and of love have been shed, expressions of gratitude given for your sending these missionaries to teach them of Jesus Christ and his ways.

As a result of your great contributions, a new chapel is being built far away from any civilization, the first one for the aborigine people. It is an exciting time for them, and for the area in the north territories of Australia. It is so exciting that even the Lord Mayor of Darwin is coming to attend the dedication, spending a whole day. Missionary couples have been busy preparing the people. One man who owns a sheep ranch in Australia equal to the size of Utah and who was firmly convinced that the average native could learn nothing, came recently to a special meeting and there he sat as the aborigines’ young children sang, “I Am a Child of God” (Sing with Me, B-76), tears streamed down his face, and he said as he walked out of the meeting, “If I hadn’t seen it, I never would have believed it.” Faith, strength, kindness from a people who made this possible. A great appreciation from a people who could not do what they did without you.

In the general Relief Society meeting of September 2006, President Gordon B. Hinckley related an experience shared by a divorced single mother of seven children then ranging in ages from 7 to 16. She had gone across the street to deliver something to a neighbor. She said:
“As I turned around to walk back home, I could see my house lighted up. I could hear echoes of my children as I had walked out of the door a few minutes earlier. They were saying: ‘Mom, what are we going to have for dinner?’ ‘Can you take me to the library?’ ‘I have to get some poster paper tonight.’ Tired and weary, I looked at that house and saw the light on in each of the rooms. I thought of all of those children who were home waiting for me to come and meet their needs. My burdens felt heavier than I could bear.
“I remember looking through tears toward the sky, and I said, ‘Dear Father, I just can’t do it tonight. I’m too tired. I can’t face it. I can’t go home and take care of all those children alone. Could I just come to You and stay with You for just one night? …’
“I didn’t really hear the words of reply, but I heard them in my mind. The answer was: ‘No, little one, you can’t come to me now. … But I can come to you.’”

One day at school we were having a limbo contest. To do the limbo, you have to walk under a pole without touching it while bending over backwards.
If you touch the pole or the ground, you’re out of the game. When I went under the pole, my knee touched the ground. My teacher didn’t see what happened, so she asked me if I touched the ground. I knew that if I told the truth I would be out, but I told her that my knee touched the ground anyway. I was out of the game, but at the end I got the honesty award. My mom said that was better than first place any day.

I’ll never forget the lesson I learned a few years ago. It was a lesson of how to show, not just teach, the gospel message. At the time, I was serving in the Sweden Stockholm Mission in a town not far from Stockholm.
One rainy day, while my companion and I were riding the bus home for lunch, we met a young lady who had been an exchange student in the United States. She told us that her name was Anna and that she was attending the university in town. We asked her about her beliefs and found that she was very active in another church. She said that she would never change but accepted our invitation to hear more about our beliefs.
During the weeks that followed, we taught her several discussions and had some wonderful spiritual experiences. She read from the Book of Mormon and prayed for answers to her questions. She felt that it was right, but because of her previous religious ties, she had a hard time accepting the challenge to be baptized.
That Thanksgiving we had planned a small “feast” for our investigators and some member friends. As the word spread, our small feast became a large gathering. Of course Anna was invited, along with others that my companion and I had grown very close to.
Before the blessing on the food, I took the time to explain the significance of Thanksgiving and why we celebrate it. I also explained to the guests just how much my companion and I loved and appreciated each one of them. I thanked them for the kindness they had always shown us.
The rest of the night went rather well. There were musical numbers by members and nonmembers alike and many other fun activities. I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, however. It had taken much more of our time than I had expected, and I wondered if the time could have been better spent.
Later that next week, I received a notice of transfer, but before I left, Anna wrote a short letter and gave it to me. I have translated a portion of that letter:
“I also want to thank you for letting me come to your Thanksgiving party. It was quite an experience for me in two ways—partly because I got to eat American food and partly because I got to see the warmth that exists between you and your friends. It will be of great importance for me in my decisions concerning your teachings.”

Leaders of the Church have counseled us to cultivate a garden at our homes. Recently, members from the Mountain View Ward in Nairobi, Kenya heeded that counsel, and following their bishop’s assignment and worked hard to create a ward shamba (the word ‘shamba’ means ‘garden’ in Swahili). Ward members joined hands and applied their knowledge in transforming the thickets and shrubs into a bountiful harvest.
Finally, the day came when the rewards were quite visible and abundant. The Mountain View Ward members’ hard work proved itself. There was an abundance of food, ranging from bananas to mboga to beans and they are about to harvest the maize. It was clear that the members’ aim wasn’t for instant gratification. They understood that in all harvests, some blessings don’t come until later, so they chose to be patient with the sweet potatoes and cassava.

Alissa Hunsaker shared one example on this week’s discussion board, and I have invited her to share this experience with you:
I was at the grocery store with my three-year-old in the cart and my baby in a carrier on my chest. My shoe was untied, and I kept tripping on it again and again. I was trying to tie my shoe without waking up my baby, and I just couldn't reach. A stranger walking by thought I was trying to pick something up and offered to help. I sheepishly said, “No, thanks. I’m just trying to tie my shoe.” He knelt down and tied my shoe then wished me a good day and moved on. It was a little thing, but it meant so much to me. It reminded me of the Savior washing His apostles’ feet. I learned that the Lord is always mindful of us, and that He often shows His love for us through the service of others.

For one of my value projects in the Personal Progress program, I decided to send a copy of the Book of Mormon to my grandparents, who are not members of the Church. I was very nervous about this because my grandparents had never seemed to like the Church very much, but I felt strongly that this was something I should do. I went through the Book of Mormon and marked the scriptures important to me. Then I wrote my testimony on the inside of the cover and fasted that they would accept my gift.
I was afraid their reaction would be negative, but they surprised me. One day while I was checking my e-mail, I found a message from them. They thanked me for sending the Book of Mormon to them and for the time I had taken to make it personal for them.
This experience taught me to have faith in the Lord and follow the promptings of the Spirit. We never know what the consequences of our actions will be, but if we trust in the Lord we will never regret it.

A couple of years ago a young man—let’s call him John—came to my office, having shortly returned from his mission. He was a student at this university.
He said to me, with great concern, “Elder Clarke, I need help. I loved my mission. It changed me. However, I am losing some of those sacred and special feelings that I felt in the mission field. I live in an apartment of returned missionaries. We don’t pray together, and we don’t read the scriptures together.”
He was pleading, “Can you help me?”
He asked, “What can I do to feel like I felt in the mission field?”
I have seen this happen many times. It is not just a question for returned missionaries. His question was, “What can I do to be happy, feel the Holy Ghost, and be close to the Savior?”
This is a question we all should ask every day.
On that afternoon in my office we turned to James 1:27 and read:
Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.
We then read in Alma 34:28:
And now behold, my beloved brethren, I say unto you, do not suppose that this is all; for after ye have done all these things, if ye turn away the needy, and the naked, and visit not the sick and afflicted, and impart of your substance, if ye have, to those who stand in need—I say unto you, if ye do not any of these things, behold, your prayer is vain, and availeth you nothing, and ye are as hypocrites who do deny the faith.
Pure religion includes caring for the poor and the needy.
...
That day in my office I told John that if he would practice pure religion, he would be happy and feel like he had felt on his mission. We went on to discuss pure religion as defined in James 1:27, Alma 34:28, and John 21.
...
John went back to BYU and acted upon what we had discussed. He sent me the following email:

Hi, Elder Clarke.
How are you? I hope all is well. It has been a while since I have written you, and I wanted to see how everything has been going. I feel you should know that I still think about our meeting last January. I felt the Spirit very strong in teaching me life’s principles that we spoke of, and doing so has continued to bless my life. Each month I have learned different things from that conversation and our other conversations since. Visiting the widows and the elderly has been an incredible blessing. I have seen repayments of kindness many times over. I could go on, really, and fill this page with experiences. Thank you. It is truly a blessing to have a great friend.

I would like to share one experience, however, that you might enjoy. A few Sundays ago I went to an assisted-care facility for the elderly to read inspirational stories from the Ensign. The twelve or so of us began with a prayer, and I began to read to them. The Spirit over that hour entered gradually and powerfully, and the simple stories of faith turned into very powerful testimony builders. Many individuals felt a great amount of love and support from the Savior as the Spirit testified of simple truths and testimonies.

It touched my soul to be able to be an instrument for the Lord, because I definitely felt His love for those sweet people. As I was on my way out, a few commented that they wanted to adopt me! I had never known I was capable of feeling such love from and for strangers with whom I had little connection. But I felt the Savior’s love for them, for those kind souls. It appeared clear to me that I would meet these individuals—now riddled by dementia, Alzheimer’s, and physical ailments—on the other side. I would see their husbands and wives, who have been looking over them from the other side of the veil. I felt very much the presence of my grandfather—whom I had never met—as I sat with my grandmother, and his spirit strengthened me and supported me. I knew he was thankful for my simple visit.

Who knew that I could find such tender mercies? It seems so meaningless to come home after something like that and just turn on the TV or tune out in some other way. It has changed me to realize that these tender experiences are available at all moments of the day as we, as Saints, strive to focus and help others in some way.

As I left that room that day, all of the elderly wished for my prompt return. They had bright smiles and warm hearts. They were thankful. In the hallway, your words echoed in my heart: “They will do more for you than you will ever be able to do for them.” What a blessing true service is!

I got to know of the Church in 1993 through a classmate while a law student at Rivers State University of Science and Technology (RSUST) Port Harcourt Nigeria. I visited with him and saw the book Jesus the Christ by Elder James E. Talmage. I read a portion of the book titled “Christ’s Tabernacle in the Flesh.” I was touched by the gospel insights in the book and asked where I could get one. He then told me about the Church that he joined in 1987.
I asked Brother Amadi more about the Church. I was desirous to find answers to questions I had as a young man. I eventually arrived at the nearest meetinghouse, the Port Harcourt 3rd Ward, located close to the university entrance which was also within walking distance from my hall of residence. I arrived late and sat at the Sunday School class, which was the first meeting of the day, as was the pattern then. A few moments later, I was invited to the Investigators class. The bishop later gave me a copy of the Ensign magazine, and specifically referred me to a talk by Elder Russell M. Nelson, attending the Parliament of the World’s Religions. I read the story and it changed my attitude about marriage and family as he brought with him Primary children who sang “I Am a Child of God” in the meeting.
In the investigators’ class, I was taught about the Prophet Joseph Smith and was asked if I had heard about him. The name seemed familiar, but I could not recollect where I had come across it. But now I know that it was the Spirit telling me about the Prophet Joseph Smith.
Bishop Kalu was a source of strength and inspiration and a great gospel teacher. I sincerely wanted to teach the restored gospel with a testimony like his. I eventually got baptized on December 26, 1993. The following Sunday, I was ordained a priest in the Aaronic Priesthood. And during sacrament meeting, I was asked to bless the sacrament.
The message of the restored gospel appealed to my heart, though born Anglican to humble parents and, as the tradition of the Anglican Church, was given infant baptism with my other siblings in 1973. The Book of Mormon changed all that as the copy I was given in the investigators class and with marked portions to read, I tried my best in reading it not with a desire to obtain a testimony but with my student legal mind. I was searching for faults because nothing compares to my Holy Bible. I had been doing critical Bible study before coming to the Church. I finished the Book of Mormon in no time and diverted my love for secular books to love of scriptures, particularly the Book of Mormon.
My bishop extended a call to me the Sunday after my ordination in the Aaronic Priesthood as a Sunday School teacher. I was also called as a seminary teacher, and I enrolled in an Institute of Religion class. While I taught the Old Testament in seminary, I studied the Book of Mormon in the institute class. This connection to the scriptures changed my life as that was the beginning of a lifelong love for the standard works of the Church and other writings that I have accumulated over the years a large library of Church literatures and scriptures. I even went on to teach institute classes for years even as a stake president.
While I was in Lagos, Nigeria, where I did my National Youth Service, I received the strong feeling that I had a mission to establish the Church in my hometown. I felt inspired and decided to fulfill the mission. I began with my wife, who was not a member at the time. With her unique testimony, she joined the Church and I baptized her like I did our five children.
We went to church in Port Harcourt from Omoku, our hometown. It was about two-hour drive. We did this every Sunday until sometime in 2001 when the Port Harcourt West Stake Presidency authorized me and family to stay back and worship in Omoku under the supervision of the Rumueme Ward. We reactivated some members of the Church who resided in our town and surrounding towns, two of whom were old schoolmates at the university. We started worshipping in my one-room apartment and later moved into a three-rooms flat in the city center where, on the 9th of January 2005, the Church was officially organized with me as the first branch president and my wife as first counsellor in the Relief Society. We had 36 members of our branch.
Missionaries who taught us the gospel of Restoration and eternal families inspired us tremendously and helped to inspire our infant children to love missionary work.
The gospel of Jesus Christ means everything to me and my family. The principles of the gospel are true and life-changing when we apply every word therein. As a branch president in a new place, it naturally imposed a new life on me. They must see the change in me to believe and follow. This is a religion with everlasting promise, hope, and blessings.
The Aba Nigeria Temple was dedicated on August 7, 2005, by President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008). Our family of five then—me, my wife, Justina, and our children (Joy, Daniel, and Gabriel)—were overjoyed. We got sealed as a family on September 22, 2005. Our sons John and Joseph were born in the covenant. My life is about family, Church, and community.

It was Little Wind’s unusual compassion and regard for the buffalo that caused his father to give the old four-legged special consideration. A great scaffold was prepared and its body carried on a litter to the sacred burial grounds that stood on the high jagged cliffs above the village. It was the first time such a thing had been done for any but a Sioux in the history of their people.
Little Wind climbed the steep trail in the icy November wind to the top of the butte to pay final tribute to the old buffalo. He watched as the mighty beast was hoisted up onto the scaffold, covered with furs, and secured with rope. Little Wind’s mother and little sister, Night Fawn, along with a few other village women, heaped brambles at the base of the scaffold to keep away wild animals. Then Ten Days Walking and the others left Little Wind alone to express his mourning.
When the sun had made its journey across the heavens, Little Wind turned from the wind-lashed scaffold and descended the darkened mesa to the village below.

Four-year-old Chad could hardly wait until Monday, when he would go to Cousins’ Camp for the first time. His grandparents held a special camp each year for all their grandchildren.
His older brothers and sister talked about it all year, saying it was even better than going to the Grand Canyon, where their family had visited last year.
The night before camp, Chad and his brothers and sister packed their clothes, scriptures, and journals. Chad couldn’t read yet, but he had his own set of scriptures. When Grandpa had told him he should bring a journal, too, Chad was worried.
“Grandpa,” Chad had whispered, “I don’t know how to write.”
Grandpa had smiled and placed a gentle hand on Chad’s shoulder. “That’s all right. You can draw pictures of what we do at camp. Grandma and I want you to have a record of the week.”
Chad’s mother took him and his brothers and sister to his grandparents’ home in the country the following morning. A banner hung between two poles with the words “Cousins’ Camp” printed in big black letters.
Grandma and Grandpa greeted each child with a hug and a name tag. Grandpa asked Chad’s older brother, Tayson, to give a prayer.
The children rotated between a story station, a cooking station, and a craft station. Grandpa told stories about their pioneer ancestors at the story station. At the cooking station, they made pizzas from Grandma’s homemade dough for their lunch.
At the craft station, Chad made a birdhouse. He couldn’t decide what colors to paint it. All the colors were so pretty. Then he remembered a song he learned in Primary. He chose red, yellow, and blue.
Grandma sat on the bench beside him. “You have chosen beautiful colors for your birdhouse,” she said.
Chad smiled and said, “Thanks, Grandma. They’re the Primary colors.”
Later, Grandma helped everyone make Peanut Butter Balls for an afternoon snack. Chad ate three.
When Chad started to yawn, Grandma suggested a nap.
For dinner, Grandpa showed everyone how to make tinfoil meals with hamburger, potatoes, and carrots. Then they cooked them in the campfire coals.
Chad usually didn’t like his food mixed together, but the tinfoil meals tasted great. He asked for seconds.
At the end of the day, everyone roasted marshmallows over the campfire. Grandpa and Grandma told stories from their childhood. After Chad said his prayers, he settled inside his sleeping bag, tired but happy. “This is the best camp ever!” he thought. “There are already a lot of pictures I can draw in my journal. I can’t wait to see what we do tomorrow.”

To most of the world, Nepal is a land of mystery. On a map, it can be hard to find, wedged as it is between Chinese Tibet and India. Nepal is a land of kindness, beauty, and vibrant colors. It is the land of Sagarmatha, as Mount Everest is commonly called.
It is a land of Hinduism and Buddhism and a land where everything that is worshiped—rocks, trees, stone statues with many arms—has been smudged with red powder and worn down by ceaseless rubbing. Rubbing powder on such objects is a form of respect, and by rubbing the powder the Nepali people are praying to the god represented by the rock or tree. The Nepali greeting, namaste, means, “I bow to the god within you.”
Below the ridges of terraced rice paddies, in the middle of the crowded capital city of Kathmandu, is a small branch of the Church. In a country where missionaries are not allowed to teach, this branch of 50 active members is thriving. Much of its success is due to the young people who have become pioneers for the Church and Christianity in Nepal.
How have they been so successful, averaging 12 baptisms a year, when there are no full-time missionaries to spread the gospel? Once converted, Nepali people can teach each other, and these young people have not been afraid to speak about their new faith.
If you ask 13-year-old Manita Maharjan about the Church, she will happily tell you her story in beautiful English. As a seven-year-old, she lived near two friends, sisters Usha and Sabita Thapa, who had joined the Church. They brought her to church regularly, and Manita says she was always happy there. “I got such love from the branch members as a little girl,” she says. “As I grew up, I learned to play the piano, lead music, and share my talents. I learned to pray and study the gospel. I thank Usha and Sabita for bringing me into this happy world.” Manita has become the top student in her class at school, and she regularly brings her school friends to church.
This same love soon brought another young lady to the gospel. Monika Gurung, now 14, also came under the wings of the Thapa sisters. Her family was already Christian, but she says she felt such pleasure when she joined the Church. “Here everybody loves me, and I love them too,” she says. “I am still the only member in my family, but I bring my little brothers with me every Sabbath day.” (In Nepal, the Sabbath is on Saturday.)
Monika is also one of the top students in her school class. She was permitted to give a talk in school about the Church and the Book of Mormon. This is unusual in the schools, but Monika was allowed to make her presentation because she is such a fine student.
To demonstrate their love for their culture, Monika and Manita both perform Nepali folk dances in native costumes with professional grace and ability.
The day after the baptism of Veswengal Gharti Chhetri (known as G. C.), a political group in Nepal called a bund (strike). This meant that no vehicles were allowed on the roads. But G. C., who lives a great distance from where the branch meets, knew people were counting on him to be at church to be confirmed. He walked 2 1/2 hours one way on roads that, empty of the crushing traffic, were now crowded with people and wandering animals.
He first learned of the Church at the school where he teaches when he overheard a young Latter-day Saint teacher discussing the gospel with the school’s principal. He quickly approached Ramesh Shrestha and began asking questions. Now, age 21 and a member of the Church for only a few months, he has been called as Young Men president. G. C. says, “The Church was something more than I expected.” He loves the concepts of eternal marriage, agency, the Word of Wisdom, and the plan of salvation. G. C.’s talents are the warmth of his personality and his great love of people, which make him a natural for his second calling as a branch missionary. When asked why he likes to teach the gospel, he says, “It is not good to have something so delicious and not share it.”
Love seems to be the central key for the growth of the branch in Kathmandu.
Like the rugged Himalaya mountains in the north, which are geologically young and constantly being changed by nature, these young people’s lives are being changed by the gospel. Sixteen-year-old Suman Shilpakar says the Church has made a wonderful difference in his life. He no longer feels shy and uncertain. He knows the scriptures have the answers to all his questions about life.
Preeti Khadgi says that she has become more kindhearted and she enjoys talking to people more since she became a member of the Church. Preeti is one of the few whose entire family joined the Church, starting with her father, who was the first Nepali to be baptized in Nepal and is now the branch president.
Before joining the Church, Preeti’s mother had a dream in which she found a way “to make all of her children good children.” The Khadgis feel the Church is fulfilling that dream. Preeti’s brother, Pratik, is now serving in the India Bangalore Mission.
In Nepal, students must pass 10th-grade exams to continue in school. Failing the exams ends their education. “One of my teachers,” Preeti says, “wanted me to come on the Sabbath to a study session for the exam. I explained that I could not; I had to go to church.”
“Is that necessary?” he asked.
“Yes,” Preeti answered. “I have a teaching responsibility.” She later passed her “iron gate,” her name for these rigorous tests. “I prayed that whatever I had learned, Heavenly Father would help me remember,” she says.
For Nepali families, drinking tea with milk first thing in the morning is an ingrained tradition. In every home and every tiny shop along every narrow street, small stoves brew tea. To begin to follow the Word of Wisdom has been difficult for many of these young converts.
When Deepak Shrestha’s older brother, who was the first missionary to serve from Nepal, told him the Church was the greatest thing in the world, Deepak was interested. Then his brother challenged him to live the Word of Wisdom. Deepak quickly felt the wisdom of this advice because “it affects the future.” The result of that decision has been the start of Deepak’s strong and continually growing testimony of the gospel.
Seventeen-year-old Bikki Sahi has recently been baptized. And like many of the other Latter-day Saint youth here, he is the only member in his family. He feels strongly that he has “chosen the right way.” Bikki has a new but beautiful testimony to share. “When I first came to the Church, I felt peace in my heart,” he says. “I also felt that my tensions and sadness were driven away. The brothers and sisters showed me their love and taught me about Jesus Christ and the Book of Mormon. When I obeyed the commandments, it helped me improve my habits, and I felt good. I know that Jesus is the Christ and that the Book of Mormon is true.”
The only thing these youth lament is not having the Book of Mormon in the Nepali language. For those who do not speak English well, it is difficult to study the gospel. They must accept on faith alone and learn what they can in class. Even for those who are quite fluent in English, it is a struggle.
Though they lack a Nepali Book of Mormon, these youth fill their lives with school, Church, and cultural activities. They sing, perform Nepali dances, and play the piano. They go bowling and rock climbing and have tried golf and tae-bo exercises. They do service projects and enjoy their friends both in and out of the Church. They face life with enthusiasm.
In the midst of the incredible mountains and valleys of Nepal, a clear voice is sounding. It is young, vibrant, and full of faith. These teens are pioneers in the truest sense of the word. They are leading the gospel forward in their native land. These young converts will continue to love their people into the gospel until that day comes when this country opens its welcoming doors to the missionaries.
Namaste.

In 2019, when my wife and I went to buy some plastic containers for the house, we decided to buy a small one that at first, we thought would be used for garbage. However, when we got home, I had the feeling that I should use it to store the rice, since at that time we were using a smaller container. When we added the rice that we had, it was half full. At that time, I had a job, and the little container remained half full.
I lost my job in November 2019, and my wife was the only one working in our family. A few months later, in March 2020, the country closed with the arrival of the pandemic, and I was not able to find a job, but we witnessed a miracle. During the months from March to June the little container that we used to store the rice was filled, and not only that, but it also stayed full all that time. We had so much rice that I was able to give some to the people who asked at my door.
As I reflected on it, I realized that the same thing that Elijah the prophet promised to the widow of Zarephath was done to me (see 1 Kings 17:10–16). I am very grateful to my Heavenly Father for providing food for my family in these difficult times that we went through.

At the end of 2014, I read Doctrine and Covenants 31:2–3 that states. “I will bless you and your family . . . and the day cometh that they will believe and know the truth and be one with you in my church.
“Lift up your heart and rejoice, for the hour of your mission is come; and your tongue shall be loosed, and you shall declare glad tidings of great joy unto this generation.”
I knew that I had to fulfill the priesthood duty by serving a full-time mission. I informed my siblings and my mother of my desire to serve. My mother initially opposed the idea and threatened to disown me if I left. Through prayer and fasting, she eventually relented. I was called to serve in the Accra Ghana Mission, and the promise of seeing my father again became a reality after he was baptized by proxy in the Accra Ghana Temple.

The wind wheeled through the empty lot in great gusts, pushing down the knee-high grass like a huge, flat hand. Overhead, the sky shone a vivid blue as it opened into endless space.
Geoff came running through the field, folding back the long green blades with his body. Held above his head was the kite, its knotted tail snapping at his back. In his other hand, wrapped around a stick, was a very large ball of string.
Out of the midst of this green carpet rose a grassless hill that was just round enough on top to hold one boy Geoff’s size.
“So you’re going to fly the world’s highest kite?” The words Dad had spoken earlier that day came back to Geoff now.
“Yep.” Geoff had continued to wrap the twine around the stick. If he held both ends of the stick loosely in his hands while his kite was airborne, the string would spin off freely, carrying the kite higher and higher.
Dad had sat down beside Geoff on the back porch. “Sure is a great day for flying a kite. How high do you suppose you’ll get it?”
“Oh, I figure about a hundred miles high.”
“You sure that’s high enough?” Dad had asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it seems to me that if you’re going to try to do something as important as flying the world’s highest kite, you should take the time to do some research and planning.”
“It doesn’t take planning to fly a kite,” Geoff had responded.
Dad had put his arm around Geoff’s shoulders and said, “But you’re not flying just a regular kite. Yours is to be the highest-flying kite in the whole world! Doesn’t it make sense to check how high other kites have flown? Then you’d know how long your string has to be for your kite to fly the highest. And wouldn’t it be worth your time to find out how hard the wind is blowing so that you’d know how strong your string has to be? There are other things you probably need to know, too, if you’re going to fly the highest kite.”
“I guess so, Dad, but this kite’s ready to go.”
Now the wind was beating back Geoff’s hair and clothes. The kite’s tail began to split the air that tugged at the kite itself, and Geoff gave the kite up to its hunter.
For a moment the kite hung suspended just above the grass. Then the wind bit into it, and it rose shakily higher.
As he played out the string in his hands, Geoff watched the kite shrink into the sky. The tail was now waving lazily from side to side. Geoff moved his hands to the left; the kite bowed to its right. He pulled right; it went to the left. String zipped off the spool as the kite climbed ever higher!
Geoff thought again of his dad’s advice. He was sure his dad had meant well, but a kite was just something you put together with the supple limbs of a eucalyptus tree, some giant-size tissue paper, and a long tail of tied-together strips from one of Mom’s old sheets. You didn’t have to go to all the trouble Dad was talking about …
Geoff had to squint now to see the kite. It was a small triangular speck against the blue. The fat ball of string had become thin.
Suddenly Geoff felt the string go limp. Then he saw about fifty feet of limp twine drifting listlessly to the ground. He peered at the triangular thing way up in the sky. At first it didn’t appear to be falling, but as he watched it, it began to twist and zigzag toward the earth. The tail wiggled every which way, like a drowning swimmer clutching the water.
In a flash, Geoff was down the side of the hill and running as fast as he could through the tall grass toward home.
Dad was already waiting for him in the pickup. “I saw it go and thought you might like some help in retrieving it.”
Geoff jumped into the cab, and the truck sped down the road, leaving a billowing cloud of dust behind them.
“There it is!” Geoff’s finger stabbed at a place in the sky about a quarter mile away from where they were.
“Looks like it’s over by Hansen’s Pond!” Dad said. The side road to Hansen’s Pond suddenly appeared out of the field, and Dad took the corner with tires screeching.
Geoff stuck his head out the window to get a better view of the falling kite. It was swiftly approaching the ground now and would be crashing any minute.
Dad pulled the truck to a quick stop. “It’s out of the upper airstream now, so it’s going to fall pretty straight. Let’s go!”
The field around Hansen’s Pond had lots of small trees and shrubs, making it difficult for Geoff and Dad to spot the kite.
“I can’t see it anymore!” Geoff groaned.
“I think I know where it’s going to fall. Just follow me.”
A dozen feet later Dad stopped and pointed to the ground. The end of the broken string lay at his feet. “If we follow the string, we’ll find it.”
Geoff picked up the string and began to wrap it around his hand. The twine led along a trail of tangled underbrush, around the base of some gnarled tree trunks, and through a dry creek bed. Finally, rounding the edge of a scrub oak, Geoff saw the kite hanging in the limbs of a small tree that grew half in, half out of Hansen’s Pond.
With Dad’s help, Geoff retrieved the kite. On the way home he examined it closely. The branch he’d used as a crosspiece was split, and there was a six-inch-long tear in the tissue paper. It was obvious that he could never use this kite again. He looked at his dad. “Since I have to build a new kite anyway, I think I’ll do some research first—and use stronger string.”

As a young teen growing up in Santiago, Chile, Andrea González never had much except for a dream—a university degree that would allow her to support her family if necessary.
To get there, she hoped to graduate from seminary, get good grades at school, and score high enough on her college placement exam (PSU) to go to a university where she could study engineering.
But by the time she had started her final year of high school in preparation for the PSU, she started to wonder if any of that was possible. “All my goals seemed impossible to achieve,” she recalls.
Andrea was trying to break into a competitive and male-dominated field of study. Because of the competition, the top universities were looking for extremely high scores on the math portion of the PSU, scores usually earned by those who could afford to attend private schools.
To try and overcome these obstacles, Andrea kept a daunting schedule her final year. She was up early and studying after school until late, eating when she had a free moment and squeezing in seminary four nights a week.
“It was discouraging sometimes,” she says. “I had to sacrifice a lot. I don’t know how many times my friends heard me say, ‘No, I’ve got to study’ or how often I’ve been teased for being smart.”
But she knew she couldn’t give up if she wanted to secure her future.
Her sacrifices paid off. On the math section of the PSU, Andrea was one of 200 students in the country to earn a perfect score of 850 and one of only two girls from public schools to do so.
She also graduated from seminary, got the good grades she studied so hard for, and was named by her classmates as the year’s “Best Friend” because of all of the time she spent helping others with their own studying.
But Andrea believes her success has less to do with how much she knows than it does with what she knows she must do. In other words, blessings come from following the Lord’s counsel, not our own (see 2 Nephi 9:28–29). “It’s not worth anything to be smart if we ignore God,” she says. “You always have to put God first.”
Learning that principle as she studied for her college entrance exam was critical to the other test Andrea was taking—the test of life that everyone must take.
The Lord Himself explains this test in the scriptures: “We will prove them herewith, to see if they will do all things whatsoever the Lord their God shall command them” (Abraham 3:25).
“Heavenly Father tests us to see what we will do,” Andrea says, thinking back on the difficult schedule she had to keep and the teasing she sometimes had to endure. “To pass life’s test, we have to be obedient,” Andrea says.
And not just when things are going well but during the hard times too.
“The great test of life,” said President Henry B. Eyring, First Counselor in the First Presidency, “is to see whether we will hearken to and obey God’s commands in the midst of the storms of life.”1
Often her two tests collided. That’s when Andrea learned that putting God first was the secret to passing both tests.
Many times she had to choose between Church activities and school activities, between studying the gospel and studying for her test. She says she learned early on that she felt better if she chose Church first. It strengthened her testimony that Heavenly Father would help her with her concerns if her first concern was Him.
These experiences also taught Andrea another important lesson. “He is capable of helping me with the tests He has given me,” she says.
Or as one of her heroes, Nephi, said, “I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them” (1 Nephi 3:7).
Andrea knows that even though she has passed her first test, there is a lot she must learn before she’ll feel ready to pass the next. But she knows if she puts God first, He’ll help her pass that test too.

While growing up, I saw how hard my father worked to provide for our family. He was a very thrifty person. We didn’t own a home until my father could pay cash for it, and because he didn’t believe in buying on credit, we simply walked everywhere until he could afford to buy a car for our family. He owned a retail furniture store in Cedar City, Utah, and we were expected to work there. The only problem was that my father didn’t pay us to work in his store. When we were kids, I thought the reason was because he was a tightwad. It was only later that I realized that he wanted us to learn about the value of work.

Until just recently I would have said one life preserver is as good as another. But not anymore! What changed my mind?

Recently I attended a safety exhibit that stressed accident prevention. The water safety display intrigued me most. It included a variety of familiar pieces of lifesaving equipment. On each piece of equipment was a simple card with just one word in bold, block letters. The card read YES on the pieces of equipment that were safety approved; NO on those that were not. I was amazed. I thought all the equipment was approved and would save one’s life in an emergency. The man in charge of the display said, “Most people think all equipment is perfectly safe, but they are just taking things for granted. That’s the tragedy of it. Instead of saving you, some of this equipment could get waterlogged, weigh you down and contribute to your drowning.”

He demonstrated several pieces of equipment with the YES label and then said, “If you want to be safe and sure, use only approved equipment.”

Lizzie, give it back! I’m playing with it!
No!
Girls, please stop fighting. Lizzie, you need to go to your room. Alice, I’d like to talk to you.
It’s not fair, Dad! I was playing with my unicorn, and Lizzie grabbed it. She always ruins things.
It’s tough to be a big sister. Do you know what helps me when I get mad?
What, Dad?
A scripture in the Bible. It says, “A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.” This means that if you speak kindly and softly, angry people will feel calmer. If you speak rudely or shout at them, they will just get angrier.
Do you think that will work with Lizzie?
Next time, just try it and see what happens.
I want the fairy wings!
Alice remembered what Dad had told her.
Lizzie, would you like to wear my crown? You can be a princess, and I’ll be your fairy friend.
OK, I’ll be a beautiful princess!
Come on, your highness. Let’s play!