Gospel Story Finder

Illustrations by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
What’s wrong, Sarah?
I’m not smart.
Who’s been teasing you?
It doesn’t matter, because it’s true—I’m not smart. I’m no good at math or English or anything else.
Heavenly Father, please help me know what to say.
Sarah, my dad read a scripture to my family last night. It says, “The glory of God is intelligence, or, in other words, light and truth.”*
So?
So you may not be the top student at math or English, but you’re full of light and truth. It shines from your face. Sarah Mercer, you are intelligent!
You’re a child of God, and His glory is in you.
If you say so.
I do say so.

The Prophet Joseph had to learn many of these valuable lessons, as we will likewise have to do. David Whitmer, a close associate of the Prophet and one of the Three Witnesses for the Book of Mormon, related an enlightening experience which occurred while the prophet was translating the gold plates. These are Brother Whitmer’s words:

“He [Joseph] was a religious and straightforward man. He had to be; for he was illiterate and could do nothing himself. He had to trust in God. He could not translate unless he was humble and possessed the right feelings towards everyone. To illustrate so you can see: One morning when he was getting ready to continue the translation, something went wrong about the house and he was put out about it. Something that Emma, his wife, had done. Oliver and I went upstairs and Joseph came up soon after to continue the translation but he could not do anything. He could not translate a single syllable. He went downstairs, out into the orchard, and made supplication to the Lord; was gone about an hour—came back to the house, and asked Emma’s forgiveness and then came upstairs where we were and then the translation went on all right. He could do nothing save he was humble and faithful.” (Brigham H. Roberts, A Comprehensive History of the Church, vol. 1, p. 131.)

When our children were little and we lived in San Rafael, Mendoza, Argentina, we started the tradition of making Christmas doves. Previously we had been sending so many Christmas cards to friends and family that it started to become a strain on our budget. So, instead of purchasing expensive, preprinted cards, we decided to make our own in the shape of doves, spreading a message of peace at Christmastime. In the beginning, our doves were simple and made of white cardboard, but over the years they have been adorned with a variety of colors, Christmas messages, and scriptures about the birth of Christ. The children enjoyed making them. Although our children are all grown now, the tradition continues on.
Georgina Crisman,Black Creek (Spanish) Ward, Mississauga Ontario Stake

When Thelma was 16, she was called to be the Primary president. Our bishop had been trying to find someone to handle the many challenges the Primary organization was facing. The ward covered a large area, and it was difficult and expensive for many families with small children to travel by bus to the church both on Saturdays for Primary and on Sundays. Many of those children were not attending Primary, and no solution had been found. The bishop had been prompted to call Thelma but could not bring himself to do it because she was so young. The prompting continued, and after receiving approval from the stake president, the bishop extended the call to my sister.

This proved to be an inspired decision, and it blessed many children—including me. Thelma magnified her calling by following inspiration, using common sense, and implementing innovative ideas to develop training programs to bring the gospel to the children. She asked her counselors and teachers to hold Primary meetings at several places closer to their homes, and she provided ongoing training for those teachers. This solution allowed members to save time and money and enabled children who were previously not attending Primary to receive the blessings of this wonderful organization.

Every time I turned around there was something new that I wanted to do. Then my teacher told my class we were supposed to write a book and turn it in. I was reluctant to even try because it seemed enormously boring to me. When I tried, I found that I liked writing, and I had all sorts of ideas to write down on paper. I am absolutely certain that I want to be an author. I wouldn’t even know I liked to write if I hadn’t been forced to do that assignment. My advice to you is to take every opportunity you can get to try new things. Don’t be judgmental before you try it.
Melanie Wise, 12Green River, Wyoming

John Wooden was perhaps the greatest college basketball coach in the history of the game. He had four full undefeated seasons. His teams won 10 national championships. At one point, he had a streak of 88 consecutive wins.
One of the first things Coach Wooden drilled into his players was something his father had taught him when he was a boy growing up on a farm. “Don’t worry much about trying to be better than someone else,” his father said. “Learn from others, yes. But don’t just try to be better than they are. You have no control over that. Instead try, and try very hard, to be the best that you can be. That you have control over.”

I recall one woman, whom I’ll call Ella, who as a child was criticized harshly by her parents and peers. Later, as an adult, during and after Relief Society lessons, she became discouraged as she compared herself to the other sisters. She was certain that they were all more intelligent, better organized, and stronger in the gospel than she was. Her husband began to avoid her after Relief Society because she was so unpleasant.

Eventually, Ella saw that her self-condemning attitude was harming her testimony and her marriage. She decided to change. Taking specific inventory of herself, she made a list of strengths and weaknesses. At first, she had trouble accepting her strengths, and she all too readily accepted her weaknesses as permanent and unchangeable. However, using the list, she determined to overcome one weakness and to develop one strength at a time.

Through her self-evaluation, she discovered that one of her weaknesses was saying things too quickly without stopping to think if her remarks would be hurtful to others. Realizing the harm her comments could cause, she practiced thinking before she spoke. Eventually, as she ceased to wound others through thoughtless remarks, she gained a new sense of self-mastery. She also developed her housekeeping skills, which gave her definite evidence of achievement in something that was important to her and was a service to others.

After overcoming a few of her weaknesses and refining a few of her strengths, Ella began to believe that she was a person of worth. She did not expect confirmation or praise from others for her efforts. Hers was an internal, personal effort—an effort to live in accordance with God’s laws. Her self-esteem really was self-esteem. And, as her self-esteem increased, her marriage improved. Her husband began to relax and enjoy her obviously more pleasant outlook and behavior. Then he, too, began to examine and improve himself—with beneficial results.

The Lugo family of Valencia, Venezuela, learned that this new approach of starting small and being consistent can pay big dividends. After listening to general conference, Brother Omar Lugo, a Church member in the Falcón Venezuela District, felt inspired to begin his own home storage. He discussed the matter with his family, and they agreed to follow the prophet’s counsel.
They began setting aside food, water, and money, a little at a time. At first the difference was hardly noticeable. But after a while the Lugos found that they had accumulated a substantial reserve. Several months after they began building their home storage, a worker’s strike in Venezuela put many local workers’ jobs in jeopardy. Brother Lugo was among those who eventually lost their jobs.
For a time his family lived on savings. Seven months later the Lugo family was relying exclusively on the food they had stored. It took nearly two years for Brother Lugo to find work again, but his family was able to survive the difficult challenges of unemployment. They had built their reserve gradually, and when adversity struck, they were prepared and the Lord blessed them.

After calming his shoeless family, Brother Godfrey used his wife’s cell phone to call their home teacher, Jason Meyers, who lived 30 minutes away in Cedar Falls. Without hesitation, Brother Meyers said he and two other members were on their way. When they arrived, Brother Meyers jumped out of the vehicle to hug Brother Godfrey and his family.
“It was good, because we didn’t have any family out there. But our ward family was there for us,” Brother Godfrey said while choking back some tears.
They whisked the Godfreys out of the disaster area to stay at the Relief Society president’s house, where members brought food and clothing.

When Eli Herring was little, he would sometimes try to be sneaky and watch Sunday professional football on television. He didn’t know much about the game, but he knew he liked it. He liked it so much that each week when his class at school would go to the library, he would check out books about football players. He knew they were big and strong, he knew he wanted to be one, and he knew that they played most of their games on Sunday. And he wanted to watch some football.
One Sunday when he had the television on, he suddenly noticed his father looming in the doorway. Eli promptly forgot about the game. His father wasn’t angry, but he sure looked disappointed. Brother Herring simply said, “Turn it off,” and Eli did. He never watched football on Sunday again.
It didn’t take Eli and his brothers and sisters long to find out how their parents felt about the gospel. The family often gathered and read their scriptures and talked about the things of the Lord. Like many Latter-day Saints, the Herrings taught their children about eternal life and eternal families. They taught their children how to fast and pray and how to seek guidance from the Lord.
Other than watching games on Sunday, Eli found no conflict between football and the gospel. He played little league with his friends, and he often thought about playing college and professional football. He was always big for his age, and his father was a big man, so he assumed he would be able to play if he wanted to.
Then one Sunday when he was 16, he and his family were talking about football. Springville (Utah) High School had just won the state championship, and between his sophomore and junior years Eli had really begun to grow, gaining 80 pounds. Playing in college—and maybe after—was beginning to look like a real possibility.
As the family was talking about this exciting possibility, his mother commented, “You know, Eli, if you play professional football, you will have to play on the Sabbath.” Suddenly Eli knew that one day he might have to decide between keeping the Sabbath as his father had taught him and playing football.
Several universities recruited him to play for them when he finished his senior season. At this point, playing football first began to clash with doing what he knew he should. When he told recruiters he intended to go on a mission, two of the schools, Washington and Stanford, lost interest. But that didn’t deter him. More than once as he was growing up, his father had taken out his mission slides, and the family had watched as he told about his mission. Eli had always known that he, too, wanted to go on a mission, and he never questioned that decision.
Eli finally chose to attend BYU, and he played there his freshman year before leaving on a mission to Argentina. He came back two years later, stronger, faster, more coordinated, and even more ready to play football. He played his sophomore and junior seasons. He got married and took classes at the university. But always at the back of his mind, he knew that someday he might have to choose between playing football and keeping the Sabbath day holy.
Then, the summer before his senior season, the time suddenly came for Eli to make a decision. That summer USA Today published an article that ranked the top professional prospects among college football players. To his surprise, Eli found his name on the list. It dawned on him how much money he could be making playing football the next year, and he knew he had to make a decision.
It was not an easy one. Eli knew that something he had often dreamed of since elementary school was within reach. He considered all the things that he could do with the money he would make as a professional football player: he could put his children through school and pay for their missions; he could have a retirement fund; he could go on as many missions with his wife as he wanted; he could teach and coach and not have any financial worries. He would be set.
On the other hand, experiences he had had in his life told him things weren’t that simple. When he had arrived on his mission, one U.S. dollar was worth 15 Argentine australs. By the time he left, a dollar was worth about 10,000 australs. In less than two years, people who had been rich in Argentina were not rich anymore. From this Eli knew that he could not trust in money nor make his decision based solely on that.
On one hand there were good people who were active in the Church and who did a lot of good for the Church who played professional sports on Sunday. On the other hand, Eli had seen some very powerful examples of people who had refused to break the Sabbath.
One was Erroll Bennett, one of the top soccer players in Tahiti, whom Eli read about one day on his mission. When Brother Bennett joined the Church, he decided to withdraw from his team because he chose not to play on the Sabbath. When Eli read the story and saw how dedicated Brother Bennett was to the gospel, he was impressed. He says, “I knew I wanted to be a man like that, with that kind of commitment and dedication to what I knew was right.”
Eli discussed his choices with the people most important to him. His mother always reminded him of the commandment to keep the Sabbath day holy. His father, who had worked hard trying to support his family, told him to consider the decision carefully, reminding Eli how the money would help him support his wife and children. His wife, Jennifer, had received a paper in school full of quotations from leaders of the Church about the Sabbath day. Together they studied those and talked about the decision, but Jennifer and Eli’s parents all said that the decision was his and they would support him however he decided.
Eli talked to many other people. Some told him to play; some said maybe he shouldn’t. But Eli knew that talking to others wouldn’t make the decision for him. “When you’re considering giving up hundreds of thousands or millions of dollars,” he says, “it’s probably not something you’re going to do just because you’ve talked to someone.”
He knew that he would have to make the decision himself after praying to his Heavenly Father. Eli recalls: “It occurred to me to pray and fast about it because of what my parents taught me. … During the rest of the summer and through the next football season, all my scripture study and all my prayers and everything were focused on what the best decision would be. This lasted about six months. I didn’t make the final decision until the season was over at the end of December.”
That was an intense six months. Eli says: “I don’t think in my life other than sometimes on my mission I ever had the scriptures come to life for me as they did during that period of time. … I saw things I had never seen or understood before.”
One day, for example, he was reading in the Book of Mormon about Alma counseling his son Helaman. Alma urges his son: “O remember, remember, my son Helaman, how strict are the commandments of God. And he said: If ye will keep my commandments ye shall prosper in the land—but if ye keep not his commandments ye shall be cut off from his presence. … Therefore I command you, my son Helaman, that ye be diligent … in keeping the commandments of God as they are written” (Alma 37:13, 20).
The phrase “as they are written” particularly struck Eli. He knew the key to being in the Lord’s presence and to prospering was to keep the commandments “as they are written”—with exactness. Eli understood that to have financial security and other blessings for his family, “it was a more sure thing to keep the commandments and trust in the Lord than to have a million dollars.”
As the months progressed toward the end of the season, Eli became more sure of what he had to do. “I read my scriptures, and time after time I would see more and more and more reasons that I felt in my heart that I needed to observe the Sabbath more than I needed to play football,” Eli says.
When he finally made the decision, it was easy. He laughs now about all the attention he received: “I had been on the offensive line my whole career, and it’s not like a lineman gets a lot of recognition. I got so much more recognition for making that decision than I ever got for playing football. People wrote me, telling me what they thought about the decision I had made, good or bad. I never got so much mail in my life.”
Some people asked whether he had considered all the factors, and some asked if he had thought of all the money he could make. Eli laughs, “One of the most interesting things to me was that people would say, Haven’t you thought of this and this, when I had been thinking about it for ten years and had considered those things maybe a million and a half times.” The letters were entertaining, but they didn’t change his mind or cause him to reconsider. He had been very careful in making his decision, and once he made it he was firm.
Now Eli is doing what he has wanted to do for a long time—he is teaching and coaching in a local high school. Teachers aren’t famous for their high salaries, and sometimes the money is a little short. But Eli smiles about it: “The paychecks now, in spite of being low, are more than we were making when we were students. We’re happy to have more than we had before. Occasionally I think we could have a brand-new car or a nice house, but I have never had any serious doubts about the decision.”
He gathers his family around the room as he talks about the decision that has made such a difference in their lives. His daughter Hannah plays on the floor while his wife, Jennifer, holds the baby, Sarah. They don’t have the new house, car, and retirement fund, but they’re happy. Eli has come a long way from the boy who sometimes sneaked in to watch football on Sundays. Now he is a father who, like his own father and like Alma long ago, is determined to teach his children the commandments “as they are written” and to help them be covenant people of the Lord.

Many years ago, I observed a heartbreak—which became a tragedy. A young couple was nearing the delivery of their first child. Their lives were filled with the anticipation and excitement of this monumental experience. During the delivery, complications arose and the baby died. Heartbreak turned to grief, grief turned to anger, anger turned to blame, and blame turned to revenge toward the doctor, whom they held fully responsible. Parents and other family members became heavily involved, together seeking to ruin the reputation and the career of the physician. As weeks and then months of acrimony consumed the family, their bitterness was extended to the Lord. “How could He allow this horrible thing to occur?” They rejected the repeated efforts of Church leaders and members to spiritually and emotionally comfort them and, in time, disassociated themselves from the Church. Four generations of the family have now been affected. Where once there were faith and devotion to the Lord and His Church, there has been no spiritual activity by any family member for decades.
In the most difficult circumstances of life, there is often only one source of peace. The Prince of Peace, Jesus Christ, extends His grace with the invitation “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). He further promises, “My peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you” (John 14:27).
My paternal grandparents had two children, a son (my father) and a daughter. After serving a mission and military service in Hawaii, my father returned to the islands in 1946 to establish himself professionally and raise his family. His parents lived in Salt Lake City, as did his sister. She married in 1946 and four years later was expecting a child. There is something very special for parents to anticipate a daughter (in this instance an only daughter) giving birth for the first time. No one knew that she was carrying twins. Sadly, she and the twins all died during childbirth.
My grandparents were heartbroken. Their grief, however, immediately turned them to the Lord and His Atonement. Without dwelling on why this could happen and who might be to blame, they focused on living a righteous life. My grandparents never had wealth; they were never among the socially elite; they never held high position in the Church—they were simply devoted Latter-day Saints.
After retiring professionally in 1956, they moved to Hawaii to be with their only posterity. The ensuing decades found them loving their family and serving in the Church, and mostly they just enjoyed being together. They never liked being apart and even spoke of whoever died first finding a way to help them reunite soon. Nearing their 90th birthdays and after 65 years of marriage, they passed away within hours of each other by natural causes. As their bishop, I conducted their double funeral.
The faithfulness of Grandpa Art and Grandma Lou, especially when faced with difficulty, has now influenced four generations that have followed. Directly and profoundly, it affected their son (my father) and my mother when my parents’ own daughter, their youngest child, died due to complications caused by giving birth. At 34 years of age, she passed away 10 days after childbirth, leaving 4 children, 10 days to 8 years old. With the example that they had seen in the previous generation, my parents—without hesitation—turned to the Lord for solace.

“Alex, it’s time to go to speech therapy,” Miss Jenkins said.
Alex ducked his head. Speech therapy was a special class he went to. He had trouble saying some words and sounds. So he had to practice them in speech class a few times a week. Every time he left his regular class, he felt so embarrassed!
He looked up at his teacher. “Could I skip it?” he whispered. “Just for today?”
Today, Mr. Timmons was coming to Alex’s class to talk about dinosaurs. Mr. Timmons worked at a museum with lots of cool dinosaur bones. He was even going to bring a bone that was thousands of years old! Alex didn’t want to miss out.
Miss Jenkins smiled. “You still need to go to your speech class. But you might get back in time for the last part of Mr. Timmons’s talk.”
Alex tried to smile back, but he couldn’t. He slowly walked to the speech therapy classroom. In class they practiced saying the same sound over and over. Learning about dinosaurs would have been more fun.
“I hate saying these stupid sounds,” he told his speech therapy teacher. “I feel like such a baby.”
“You’re not a baby at all,” she said. “We all need a little extra help sometimes. Did you know that I went to speech therapy when I was your age?”
That made Alex feel a little better. He worked hard for the rest of the class to practice his sounds.
When Alex got back to Miss Jenkins’s classroom, he saw his friend Courtney leaving.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
Courtney looked down. “I’m having trouble with reading. I have to go to a special reading class.” Courtney looked embarrassed.
“Hey, it’s all right,” Alex said. “I just got back from my speech class. I spent the whole time making the same sound over and over.” He scrunched up his nose.
“You did?”
He nodded. “I’ve been going to speech therapy for the last two years.”
“How come I didn’t know?” she asked.
Alex shrugged. “I never told anyone. I was afraid they would make fun of me.”
“I would never make fun of you,” Courtney said. “I’m glad you made it back in time to see the dinosaur bone. It’s really cool!” She waved. “I’ve got to go. See you later.”
Soon Alex found out that he and Courtney weren’t the only ones who went to other classes. Tommy went to a class to help him learn better social skills. And Bekah worked with a special teacher to help her arm get stronger after she hurt it.
Now Alex didn’t feel so bad about his speech class. He wanted to help the other kids feel better too. He practiced reading with Courtney and talked to Tommy at lunch. Everyone needed a little extra help sometimes, and that was OK!
This story took place in the USA.

“Come on, Sarah!” Kim called as she ran up the stairs. “I want to show you the new books I got for my birthday!”
“I can’t wait!” Sarah said, following close behind.
The girls sat on the bed in Kim’s room and pulled out the books. “You’ll love this one,” Kim said, passing Sarah a book with a dragon and a beautiful princess on the cover.
The girls read stories together until Kim’s mom said it was homework time. The girls agreed that the fun always seemed to end too soon.
The next day at school, Sarah and Kim sat down in the cafeteria for lunch. They were talking about Kim’s new books when three boys from the next grade walked by. One of them said something about Sarah’s glasses and laughed. Everyone around them laughed too. Sarah’s cheeks flushed pink. She looked over and saw Kim laughing too.
“Why are you laughing?” Sarah whispered, looking at Kim in surprise.
“Oh, they’re just teasing,” Kim said. “Don’t worry about it.”
On the way home from school, Sarah and Kim walked together as usual. But Sarah kept her head down.
“What’s the matter?” Kim asked.
“Well,” Sarah said, hesitating, “I don’t understand why, when it’s just us, you’re such a good friend. But at school, when that boy said those mean things, you laughed.”
“I didn’t really think it was funny,” Kim said. “I just laughed because everyone else was laughing.”
The girls finished their walk home in silence. Kim didn’t understand why Sarah was so upset.
Later that night, Kim thought of Sarah. She tried to imagine the kids at school laughing at her the way they had laughed at Sarah. Maybe they would laugh at her hair one day, or maybe they would laugh at the shirt she was wearing. Having Sarah laugh with them wouldn’t feel so good.
The next morning, Kim waited outside for Sarah. When Sarah came out of her house, Kim waved. “Hey, Sarah!” she said. “I’m sorry I laughed yesterday. I should have been a better friend. I won’t do that again, I promise.”
Sarah smiled. “Thanks,” she said.
At lunch, the girls were sitting together again when the boy who had teased Sarah walked over. He said the same thing and laughed again. This time, instead of laughing, Kim looked at him and said, “I think Sarah looks great in her glasses. I might even get a pair myself.”
The boy looked around. No one else was laughing with him this time, so he walked away.
Sarah smiled at Kim. “Thanks for doing that,” she said. “You really are a true friend.”

Sean Covey, one of our fine young players, is now serving a mission in South Africa. He is an excellent young quarterback prospect who I’m sure you will be hearing more about in future years. I have a neighbor, Jon Collins, who is a great friend of Sean’s and is serving a mission in Scotland. Jon’s mother related a story regarding Sean and Jon. Sean recently had written a letter to Jon in Scotland and shared with him the importance of his mission. He told Jon in his letter, “Just think, this weekend BYU will be opening the football season in Pittsburgh before 50,000 fans. If I were home, I would be there with the team, being a part of this very thrilling experience. Instead, I will be baptizing a lady and her daughter. I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything in the world.”

Many years later, in pursuit of my business career, I was invited by a client to provide insurance coverage for a new venture he was launching. When I arrived at the location, I learned that it was to be a nightclub.
As we passed through reception, entering the main area, I was impressed by the decor. The furnishings and fittings, curtains and carpeting were well coordinated, providing a most pleasing setting. This was not what I had expected to find after having been told the purpose for which the venue was to be used. As I sat with the proprietor, noting the necessary information, an employee approached and asked if he could test the systems.
My client gave his approval. Suddenly the serene setting was transformed as the room lighting faded to be replaced by flashing lights of multiple colors and excessively loud music. The scene of tranquility was immediately shattered.
It was impossible to communicate under such circumstances, so we walked back to the reception area. Following further discussion and because of what I had ex-perienced, I did not feel comfortable to proceed, so I referred my client to a specialist in this field of insurance. To this day I vividly recall the dramatic transformation that occurred with shafts of light and the pulsating beat of loud music penetrating the darkened room.

Dear Topher,
You asked me in the letter I got from you yesterday if I was afraid to die. I guess I should be, kind of. But I don’t feel scared. Mom told me what Grandma Clanton said before she died about four years ago. She said she would be leaving Mom and the rest of us for just a little while and to not be frightened. She said she’d be happy and that we shouldn’t worry about her. That helped me a lot.
Another reason I’m not afraid is because I have a testimony of Jesus. He died so that we might all live again and so that families can be forever. I have an older brother in Heaven. Maybe I’ll be able to see him. And my Uncle Eugene. And my ancestors. I kind of got to know some of them when my parents were working on their family history. One of them, Nathan Twiggs, carried a chair on his back all the way across the plains—and not just so he would have something to sit on when he got tired walking! His grandfather, Thomas Twiggs, made it and used to sit on it with Nathan on his knees and read the Book of Mormon to him. Dad said it was in that chair that Thomas got his testimony.
If I could choose between staying or leaving, I would stay here on earth for a while because when I think of leaving my family, I feel sad. But Heavenly Father knows best, and Mom said that we were all probably both happy and sad when we left our heavenly parents to come down here.
Oh, I wish I could see that play you are going to be in, Topher! It sounds like it will be fun. I laughed when you said you brought a friend to dress rehearsal and you pointed to Bigfoot and said he was your bishop, and your friend said, “No wonder everyone is so reverent—I wouldn’t want to upset him, either!”
Take care of yourself, Topher. Kiss a kangaroo for me. I think they’re cute.
Your pen pal,
Cindy
Dear Topher,
I’m Cindy’s mother. You probably don’t know me. Or maybe you do, a little. Cindy most likely told you about her family in some of her letters. She’s told us a good deal about you.
Cindy passed away last week, Topher. She wanted me to tell you good-bye and that she would see you later. She said for you to work on your testimony every day because it will help make your trials much easier to bear. And you know what, Topher? It does. It does!
Write us when you can. We would like to keep in touch.
Love,
Cindy’s mom
Dear Cindy’s family,
I cried a lot when you told me about Cindy. Then, well, it’s hard to explain, but a warm feeling came over me. It felt like the sun when it pushes down through a bunch of dark, wet clouds. I know Cindy is happy, just as she said she would be. And what she said about you asking me to work on my testimony? Well, I am. I want one, too, so that when things get hard or confusing I can be strong—and happy, even when I’m sad.
I’ll write again soon.
Love,
Topher

As a young boy of five or six years of age, I had a powerful experience with prayer. My grandfather, who was not very old at the time, was very ill—feverish, ashen, and almost unconscious. It was a real crisis for our family. He lay in a bed that had been set up for him in his living room, and many of our family members, as well as our stake patriarch, knelt in a circle around his bedside to pray for him.
Although I was the only one in the room who was not an adult, I was invited to be in that prayer circle. Each member of the circle took a turn saying a prayer out loud. Then I, as the youngest one there, was called upon to pray last. I had participated in family prayer, the blessing on the food, bedtime prayers, and the other prayers that children say, but I had never experienced prayer like this before. People were crying, and everyone was anxious and concerned. It all seemed awfully important and urgent and somewhat frightening.
As a result of these prayers, my grandfather’s health was restored. The patriarch later told me that he felt my grandfather had been healed primarily because of my prayer. I have never forgotten that experience. Because I was so frightened at the responsibility to pray in such a setting, prayer took on a deeper meaning for me.

During my professional career, I helped the heirs of a noble couple settle their estate. The estate was not large, but it was the fruit of many years of hard work and sacrifice. Their children were all decent, God-fearing people who had been taught to live the saving principles of the Savior. But when it came to dividing up the property, a dispute developed about who should get what. Even though there was nothing of great value to fight about, feelings of selfishness and greed caused a rift among some of the family members that never healed and continued into the next generation. How tragic that the legacy offered by these wonderful parents turned out to be so destructive of family unity and love among their children. I learned from this that selfishness and greed bring bitterness and contention; on the other hand, sacrifice and giving bring peace and contentment.

Six-year-old Jason rode down the street on his new red bicycle. It was the first time he had ridden his bike without his eleven-year-old brother, Ray, riding along beside him. Jason grinned as he thought about his big brother. Ray was fun to be with. He would often take Jason along with him when he went to the park or to the baseball field. But now Ray had gone to the store for Mother, so Jason was riding by himself.
“Aaaah,” he called as he pedaled past his mother.
She smiled and waved at him. Jason didn’t dare let go of the handlebars to wave back, but he gave her a big smile. When he turned around and pedaled back to his house again, his mother motioned for him to stop. Born with a profound hearing loss, Jason wore a hearing aid in each ear. The only sounds that he could hear were very soft and unclear, so Jason had only begun to learn to talk.
“Jason,” Mother said, at the same time using sign language, “I’m going into the house to do dishes now. It will soon be dark. Please come inside in just a few minutes.”
“OK.” Jason tried to form the word with his mouth as he finger-spelled.
Mom smiled and rumpled his hair before she walked into the house, and Jason pedaled his bike down the street again. It was exciting riding past the houses, with a rush of the wind against his face. Jason wished he could go farther than the corner. It would be neat to ride around the block. The thrill of such an adventure filled his mind. He decided to go partway around, then come straight back. But as Jason pedaled faster and faster, pretending that he was a fireman racing his truck to a fire, he sped down several blocks. “Aaaah!” he crowed happily.
Then the cry froze in his throat as he stared at the unfamiliar houses that he was passing. The bicycle wobbled and nearly fell over before Jason could come to a stop. He looked around him with wide, frightened eyes. Where am I? he wondered.
Jason turned his bicycle around and pedaled back toward the nearest corner. He peered at the houses in the gathering darkness. They were all strange. Jason choked back a sob. How would he ever get back to his own home? He couldn’t ask anyone for help. He pedaled up and down the streets looking for a familiar sight, but the longer he searched, the more confused he became.
Soon it was dark, and Jason didn’t know what to do. Suddenly there came to his mind a picture of his family kneeling in prayer, and he thought, I’ll ask Heavenly Father to help me!
Jason got off his bike and lowered the kickstand, then knelt on the sidewalk and folded his arms. Dear Father in Heaven, he prayed silently, I’m lost. Please help me. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
Jason opened his eyes, half-expecting to see a familiar face, but no one was there. He could see lights shining through the windows of nearby houses. He thought about his family in his own home and about how much he loved them. Maybe I’ll never see them again. Tears trickled down his cheeks at the thought. Then the words I am a child of God popped into his mind. They were from a Primary song that his mother had taught him.
“You can learn to say the words if you try,” she had said as she signed to him. “Then you can sing it with your voice, your hands, and your heart.”
Jason had tried. It was hard, but he could sing it well enough for his family to recognize it. Now he loved to sing it often, even though he could barely hear the sounds that he made. He knew that there was beautiful music inside him, though, because he had such a happy feeling when he sang.
Maybe, Jason thought, I won’t feel so scared if I sing. He squeezed his eyes shut against his tears and began, “I am a child of God,/ And he has sent me here,/ Has given me an earthly home/ With parents kind and dear. …”
As he sang the last few words, Jason opened his eyes. He could scarcely believe what he saw: His big brother was coming down the street!
“Aaaah!” Jason cried, leaping to his feet. “Aaaah!”
Jason started to run. He didn’t stop until he ran straight into his brother’s open arms. Ray caught him in a big bear hug, swinging him off his feet.
“I’d never have found you if I hadn’t heard you singing that song!” Ray exclaimed. “You’ve sung it so many times at home that when I heard that off-tune hymn coming to me out of the darkness, I knew just who was singing. It led me straight to you!”
Jason couldn’t follow all that Ray was saying, but he knew that he was safe, and he knew that Heavenly Father had answered his prayer.

Mama wiped down the countertops in the kitchen while Nicole and her cousin Cassidi sat on the floor in the living room, playing quietly. Nicole and Cassidi were both five years old, but Nicole was small for her age.
Nicole and Cassidi agreed on a book from the bookcase, and Nicole began to read aloud. Cassidi sat across from Nicole with her legs crossed and listened closely to the story. The book had pictures, and each time Nicole finished reading a page, she faced the book toward Cassidi so that her cousin could see the picture, too. The girls were having a great time until halfway through the story. Then a look of sadness came over Cassidi’s face, and she began to cry.
“What’s wrong?” Nicole asked.
“Nothing,” Cassidi said quietly, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“If you’re sad, it makes me sad, too, Cassidi. Please tell me what’s wrong.”
Still sniffling, Cassidi nodded. “Nicole, you are so smart. You can read, and I can’t.”
Nicole lowered her head and closed the book. She felt very sad because Cassidi was unhappy. Mama wanted to rush in and comfort Cassidi; instead, she watched quietly from the kitchen.
Nicole’s eyes grew big, and a smile appeared on her face. “Cassidi, you are the best two-wheel-bicycle rider I’ve ever seen!” she said boldly. “I can’t ride a two-wheel bike at all,” she added, looking into Cassidi’s tear-filled eyes.
A big smile grew on Cassidi’s lips as she wiped the remaining tears from her face. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Nicole. They hugged each other tightly.
“I feel better now,” Cassidi said. “Thank you, Nicole.”
Nicole answered with a smile, and the girls continued to play.
Mama’s eyes filled with tears. She realized that the girls understood better than most grown-ups what it means to love one another as Jesus Christ would.