Gospel Story Finder

However, as a young teenager, I began to question whether I would be allowed to serve a mission. World War II had kept my father from serving as a missionary, which he badly wanted to do. In my case, the Vietnam War was raging; only two young men from each ward in the United States were given exemptions from military duty to serve missions. The rest had to rely on high lottery numbers to allow them to serve missions. Though my lottery was a few years away, I still worried about this, wondering if I would actually be able to fulfill my childhood dream.
About this time, I attended a stake conference in which Elder Thomas S. Monson was the visiting General Authority. After one session, my mother and I went to meet him. I shook his hand and we talked. I don’t remember any of the conversation except for one sentence. He looked right into my eyes and said, “You will be going on a mission.” I never worried after that; all my doubts were removed.

As mission president, he again found the Book of Mormon to be a constant source of inspiration, and he used it extensively in zone meetings and in counseling with the missionaries. He was an efficient, compassionate mission president. One of his missionaries, Wayne L. Gardner, remembers serving in an outlying area and receiving the assignment to make arrangements for a conference. “Everything went wrong,” he says. “I had scheduled a building for us to meet in, but at the last minute it was cancelled. By the time I got to the airport to get the president, I was late and he had been waiting. I forgot to ask the taxi driver to wait for us, and there weren’t any others in sight. We were stranded.
“Even though I could see frustration in the president’s eyes, he put his arm around me and told me he loved me. He was so patient and understanding. I hope I never forget that lesson.”

Our final concert was held in the beautiful city of Florence at the Duomo, the third largest cathedral in the world. But this cathedral is different. The beauty is on the outside, where the entire surface is tiled with different colored marble. Inside it is very plain, and we were told it was done this way so that people would not be distracted when they were worshipping.

One priest was so moved by the concert we gave there that he asked us to sing for the mass which followed. It was thrilling to sing to our brothers and sisters as they worshipped the Lord in their manner.
We poured all of our love we had learned in Israel into the songs we sang. Singing from behind the congregation, we created a spirit not felt by these people before. The mass ended, and we sang, “Come, Come, Ye Saints!” Never before have I heard it sung with more power and conviction. The spirit created was indescribable.
One small, frail woman worked her way, cane in hand, through the crowd and in broken English synthesized the feelings of our entire tour: “You sing. You love.”

As I was preparing to be baptized in eastern Argentina in December 1955, my branch president advised me, among other things, to ask forgiveness of those I might have offended, pay any debts, and return anything I had that didn’t belong to me. I admitted to him that I had owed a debt for half a bicycle for more than 20 years.
When I was 18 years old, I had worked part time as a photographer. I earned very little—just enough for food and to help my parents a bit. I had longed to have my own bicycle ever since I was a small boy, but we never seemed to have the money to buy one.
Luckily, my brother knew the Zuzci family. They were selling a very nice bicycle for a reasonable price. I had to pay half the money before getting the bike, and I could pay the rest later. When I had saved the first half, I went to their house and bought the bike.
To tell the truth, I had no intention of ever paying the rest of the money. I was poor and lived in humble circumstances; the Zuzcis were rich and enjoyed a fine home. I thought they would soon forget about the small amount of money I owed them.
As the years went by, I continued my education, became an optical technician, and eventually bought my own optical shop. My financial situation greatly improved. But I always avoided passing by the Zuzci house. My conscience was not clear about that bicycle!
Later in life, I felt a great desire to search for God. Now I had found Him and wanted to join His Church.
I was 38 years old when I made my way to the house I had avoided so many times. When the door opened, Mrs. Zuzci stood before me.
“Good morning, Mrs. Zuzci. Do you remember me?”
“Yes, Mr. Blanc. How could I forget you?”
“Then you remember,” I said, “that I still owe you money for a bicycle I bought 20 years ago.”
“I remember, Mr. Blanc—as if it had happened yesterday,” she answered.
I told her of my decision to be baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. “I ask your forgiveness,” I said. “I know that 20 years have gone by. I am willing to pay whatever you feel the debt is worth today.”
I could see tears forming in Mrs. Zuzci’s eyes. She said I was doing a beautiful thing and forgave me my debt. Then we both wept. What a beautiful spirit we felt to finally have the issue of the bicycle debt resolved!

For Spencer, dogsledding came about in an unexpected way. “I was born with a birth defect in my left leg that causes the veins in my leg to be atrophied, so not enough blood goes to that leg,” he explains. “There’s not a lot of growth and muscle mass, so my left leg is shorter and skinnier than the right.”
Growing up, he could walk and run, but some things were still difficult for him. “I grew up in a family and community of athletes. My two older brothers, Chase and Brandon, are both big football players, which led me to want to pursue football too.”
However, after playing football for two years in elementary school, Spencer soon realized the other kids were just too fast and it was too difficult for him to keep up. “I was sad. I struggled because I felt like I couldn’t have something to work toward.”
Then one day as he was reading The Call of the Wild by Jack London, an idea popped into his mind—what about dogsledding? “I was fascinated by the idea of dogsledding. I was with my mom after school one day when I piped up and said, ‘We should start dogsledding!’ My mom stopped dead in her tracks and retorted, ‘You’ve been talking to your dad!’ It turned out that my dad had been thinking about getting a dogsled team too! It was destiny.”
Spencer’s family held a meeting and agreed that dogsledding would be the perfect sport for Spencer. He says, “I figured it would be good for me because it doesn’t involve a lot of leg strength and speed, but it does require endurance, both physically and mentally.”
Pulling everything together for a team took a lot of work, though. “My dad and I researched the sport and talked to several mushers who helped us get started,” Spencer says. “We got our Alaskan Huskies a few at a time until we had enough for two teams—one for me and one for my dad.” They affectionately named their team of dogs the “Skinny Leg Sled Dogs,” after Spencer’s skinny leg.
Spencer’s dad supports him and races with his team of dogs.
Of course, the work didn’t stop there. Spencer and his family now take care of 51 dogs at their home in Montana, USA, not to mention their other pets (two falcons, two cats, and some canaries).
Spencer works hard to take care of his dogs.
“We spend an hour each day feeding the dogs, giving them water, and scooping up poop,” Spencer says. “In the winter, we make 70 pounds of meat stew each day to feed them enough calories. We also do our own veterinary work, like vaccines and stitches. We train them for two to three hours every day during fall and winter. And during the winter weekends, we’ll run about 100 miles. Then, of course, all of that culminates in the races, which are a lot of work.”
Obviously, dogsledding is challenging and time-consuming. But Spencer says it has blessed his life in many ways, especially when it comes to his family. “Everything involved in dogsledding has taught me and my family to work hard. It has united us. It takes all of us to care for our dogs and run long races. My mom and my brothers are like my pit crew. They handle all the dogs during my races. And my dad and I work together to run it all.”
More than that, Spencer has realized why it is important for families to work hard. He says, “If you don’t put in the effort and nurture your relationships with your family members, you won’t be a real family—you’ll just passively be a family. You’ll miss out on the blessings of being a family.”
Spencer with his brothers, Brandon (middle) and Chase (right).
Dogsledding also gives Spencer the motivation to move forward and achieve more. “I’ve learned to push myself mentally and physically through bitter cold, darkness, fear, and sleep deprivation to achieve my goals. It’s given me the skills to stay alert and strong.”
Similarly, he thinks it’s important to learn how to endure spiritually in the gospel. “When the going gets tough, you’ve got to be tough. In dogsledding, you can’t stop trying or the dogs will stop trying, and then you won’t do as well. It’s the same in the gospel. To endure well, you must always be diligent by reading the scriptures, praying, and turning to family and Church leaders.”
Spencer also notes that progression and enduring well require effort. “You can’t just passively believe in the gospel. You have to work at it. All the best things in life come from work. To get a testimony, you have to show your dedication by doing things like praying and studying the scriptures. You have to show dedication in your calling and your family.” Though it may sound tiring, Spencer says, “Everything goes more smoothly with work.”
In the end, Spencer keeps coming back to dogsledding because he’s being strengthened—physically, intellectually, and spiritually. “Dogsledding is the coolest sport in the world. It has given me the motivation to achieve my goals. I have learned to push myself and be mentally engaged in what I do.”
And the remarkable thing is, Spencer is where he is today because of a supposed weakness. Who would have guessed a skinny leg would lead to training dogs and racing them hundreds of miles through the snow? “If it weren’t for my skinny leg, I wouldn’t be a musher. I think it was the Lord helping me turn my weakness into a strength [see Ether 12:27]. Not only has dogsledding made my body stronger, but because of my birth defect, I have developed a strong work ethic. The Lord has turned my weakness into something amazing.”

Later that night, when they were both in bed, Mike asked, “Lance, do you really believe what Mom said about the Holy Ghost?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“How come?”
“I’ve never told anyone this, but do you know Bobby Morrison?”
“The tall kid with red hair?”
“That’s the one. Well, last year he and I planned how to cheat on a history test. I’m not going to tell you what the plan was, because I don’t want you trying a dumb stunt like that.”
“If it’s so dumb, why did you do it?”
“Well, I’m getting to that part. When the test started, it was like I could feel this voice. And it was really strong. It said, ‘You know it’s wrong to cheat.’ After that, I just couldn’t go through with it.”
“And that voice was the Holy Ghost?”
“Yeah. So I know that there is a Holy Ghost. If Mom says that He spoke to her, I believe her.”

Even as the restored gospel spread across the continent, the blessings of the house of the Lord remained out of reach for most members in South America. Until the completion of the São Paulo Brazil Temple in 1978, only those able to travel to the United States or Europe had the privilege of making eternal covenants and participating in ordinance work for others. Saints throughout South America contributed to the temple’s construction by laboring at the site, selling valuables, and donating savings.
Shortly after the dedication of the temple, Efraín and Maria Ondina Rodríguez from Arequipa, Peru, made the trek to São Paulo. Complications at international border crossings and the outbreak of a revolution turned their trip into nearly a monthlong journey. Despite encountering many difficulties, through faith and determination they were united as eternal companions. For others, attending the temple required fording raging rivers and crossing the towering Andes mountains to be sealed together forever as families.

Sitting at the computer desk, I deftly steered through the colorful world of the video game I was playing. My character was in a battleground, and I was on my way to reclaim a base that the enemy had just captured.
From the kitchen, I heard my mother’s voice. “Weren’t you going to clean up in here?”
I broke my concentration long enough to respond, “In a minute.” But a minute turned to 10, and then 30. When the match was finally over, I logged off, surprised that my mother hadn’t bothered me again. I shuffled into the kitchen, expecting to find a pile of dirty dishes waiting for me.
Instead I found the sink empty, the counters wiped clear—the whole kitchen spotless. I felt guilty, knowing that my mom had cleaned it herself when I failed to appear. But I shrugged it off, telling myself I would help Mom later, and went to bed.
I can’t recall if I ever made up for that broken promise, but I can remember similar instances when I chose a virtual world over the real. I played video games throughout adolescence but became very involved with a multiplayer online game from the age of 16 until I started college at 18. I devoted hundreds of hours to boosting my character and my virtual skill set. I spent less time with my family, opting to complete quests with my in-game friends instead.
And it wasn’t just the game; I spent hours online watching videos, checking blogs or social networks, often running across or choosing to view material that I knew was below my standards.
As my virtual stature grew, my spiritual strength was shriveling. I became desensitized to living in the real world. I didn’t feel good about myself, and my priorities became unfocused. The virtual world had a grip on me, and I wouldn’t force myself to get real. I could sense the weakness within me but was unwilling to stop spending “money for that which is of no worth, [and my] labor for that which cannot satisfy” (2 Nephi 9:51).
I wish I could say that I eventually came to my senses and threw the game out, realizing how much of my time it wasted. Sadly, this was not the case. I stopped playing only because the Internet filter at my college dorms blocked it.
But I saw this as a chance to change. As I started my first semester, my focus shifted from building up my virtual character to realizing my true potential. Without the fantasy world distracting me, I tuned back in to the Spirit as it spoke to me of “things as they really are, and of things as they really will be” (Jacob 4:13).
In the six months or so that followed, I had the time and focus to do some incredible things. Instead of spending hours acquiring better armor, I studied my scriptures and learned to put on the armor of God (see Ephesians 6:10–17). Instead of honing skills that did me no good outside of a video game, I unearthed practical talents that allowed me to better serve others (see Matthew 25:14–29). I magnified Church callings, studied hard, and earned grades I felt good about. I made many new friends and (gasp!) even dated some.
Sometimes I missed that animated world, the competition and challenges, the in-game experience, the online friends I had made and played with. But as I thought about the changes I had seen in my life and myself, I knew I was fuller, happier, and more at peace with the things giving up the game had allowed me to gain.
When I later listened to Elder David A. Bednar give his fireside address “Things as They Really Are,” I thought back to that moment in the kitchen and other times I had disconnected from things as they really are. I had nothing of value to show for the time spent passively plugged in or logged on. What if? I asked myself. What if I had spent more time practicing musical instruments instead? or helping my mom? or laughing with my younger sister? I regretted wasting so much time.

I was greatly impressed as I listened to the BYU alumni president, Ernest L. Wilkinson, M.D., tell of an emergency call that took him to the Intensive Coronary Care Unit of the LDS Hospital [in Salt Lake City], where a close personal friend of his of several years’ duration was in critical condition with a massive coronary thrombosis. He said: “As I approached his bedside he grasped my hand and through an oxygen mask, though gripped with pain and breathing in a labored manner, he muttered, ‘Oh, Doctor, can you save me? I have so many things I have been putting off and wanting to do.’
“As we labored into the hours of the morning, utilizing all of the modern electronic gadgetry that medical science can provide, and as it became increasingly evident that my friend would not survive, I was haunted by his comment and its inference. Are we thinkers or are we doers? How many of us procrastinate the really important decisions in life? Will we be found wanting when we too are at the crossroads of life and death?”

When President Heber J. Grant was a child, his mother tried unsuccessfully to teach him to sing. So, Heber joined a singing class at age 10—but he couldn’t even “carry a simple tune.” The music teacher “gave up in despair” and said that Heber “could never, in this world, learn to sing.”

But Heber was determined and set his mind to the goal of learning to sing. He practiced for hours whenever he was traveling alone and out of earshot of anyone who might hear. He recognized that good things often take hard work to accomplish, saying, “I would gladly give two or three months of my spare time if by so doing it would result in my being able to sing one or two hymns.”

Through much perseverance and practice, Heber gradually improved. The key is that he kept trying. He sang the first hymn he learned hundreds of times. Eventually, through his persistent effort, he learned to sing.

One evening in April 1836, for example, Elder Parley P. Pratt had retired early with pressing worries and a heavy heart. He didn’t know how he was going to meet his financial obligations. His wife had been seriously ill, and his aged mother had come to live with him. A year earlier the house he had been building had gone up in flames.

While he was deep in thought, a knock came at the door. Elder Heber C. Kimball entered and, filled with the spirit of prophecy, told Elder Pratt that he should travel to Toronto, Canada, where he would “find a people prepared for the fulness of the gospel” and that “many [would] be brought to the knowledge of the truth.”

Despite his worries, Elder Pratt departed. When he arrived in Toronto, at first no one seemed interested in hearing what he had to say.

Among those he met was John Taylor, who had been a Methodist preacher. John received Elder Pratt courteously but coolly. John Taylor had heard distorted rumors about a new sect, their “golden bible,” and stories of angels appearing to an “unlearned youth, reared in the backwoods of New York.”

A wise man, John Taylor had been seeking the truth all his life. He listened to what Elder Pratt had to say. Among other things, the stranger from America promised that anyone who investigated the gospel could know for himself, through the influence of the Holy Ghost, that it was true.

At one point John Taylor asked, “What do you mean by this Holy Ghost? … [Will it give] a certain knowledge of the principles that you believe in?”

The Apostle replied, “Yes, … and if it will not, then I am an impostor.”

Hearing this, John Taylor took up the challenge, saying, “If I find his religion true, I shall accept it, no matter what the consequences may be; and if false, then I shall expose it.”

Not only did he accept the challenge, but he “received that Spirit through obedience to the Gospel.” Soon he knew for himself what millions of others have since known, that the gospel of Jesus Christ has been restored to the earth.

Eventually this man who had devoted his entire life to seeking the truth became the third President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Many have traveled that far and even farther to receive the blessings of temple marriage. I have seen a group of Latter-day Saints from Japan who had denied themselves food to make possible the long journey to the Hawaii Temple. In London we met those who had gone without necessities to afford the 7,000 mile flight from South Africa to the temple in Surrey, England. There was a light in their eyes and smiles on their faces and testimonies from their lips that it was worth infinitely more than all it had cost.

In January 2001 my husband, Peter, became unemployed, and shortly thereafter our third child was born. When Peter found a job 500 miles (800 km) away, we made a big move. And although he enjoyed the job, the year was very bad economically and we had barely enough money to pay for rent and groceries. Our small food storage quickly vanished, and Christmas was approaching. Then Peter’s employer gave us an unexpected “Christmas bonus”—all the employees in Peter’s department were declared unemployed for one month.
Thus, my husband was again out of work. But the Lord did not forget us. Peter was asked to help several members, and we were supported financially through this work. We were not forgotten for Christmas either. The sister missionaries rang our doorbell one day and presented us with a package on behalf of an anonymous family in our ward. When we opened it we found many lovingly wrapped gifts, each bearing the name of a member of our family. We also found an envelope containing extra money—as if the presents had not been enough!
On Christmas Eve the doorbell rang again. A package on the doorstep again contained nicely wrapped presents for each of us. We were very happy. I thanked our Heavenly Father for the little miracles He had provided. And I was grateful to the members who were so loving, even though we had lived there for only five months.
We do not know who helped us during those difficult times, and I can’t help but think of the Savior’s words: “For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink” (Matt. 25:35).

“I’m trying to be like Jesus; I’m following in his ways,” Ella sang as she hopped up the front steps and came in the door.
“Today in Primary we learned that we should be like Jesus,” Ella said to Mom. “I promised Sister Hansen I’d try to be like Jesus all week! I’m going to start right now.”
As the rest of her family came in, Ella told each of them her plan to be like Jesus. She smiled a giant smile.
Ella ran to her room and carefully hung her Sunday dress in the closet. She returned to the kitchen and helped carry the plates to the table.
The next morning, Ella got up as soon as Mom called her. She ate all her breakfast and didn’t complain, even though her scrambled eggs were too squishy.
The rest of the week Ella tried to be like Jesus, but every day her smile got a little smaller.
When Sunday came again, Ella wasn’t smiling at all.
As Mom brushed Ella’s long hair, big tears ran down Ella’s cheeks.
“I’m sorry, honey,” Mom said. “Did I pull your hair?”
“No,” Ella said. “I just didn’t do what I was supposed to do. I wasn’t like Jesus all week. It’s a lot easier to sing about being like Jesus than it is to really be like Him. Sister Hansen is going to be disappointed.”
Mom wiped Ella’s tears away. “Ella, how did you want to be like Jesus?”
Ella sniffed. “I knew I couldn’t do big miracles like Jesus did, but I thought I could do something important.”
Mom smiled. “You did lots of things to be like Jesus. You helped me find my keys when they fell under the couch. You helped Rosie and Libby practice their song for choir. You helped Gabe make a poster for his book report.”
“Those are just normal things,” Ella said. “I wanted to be like Jesus and do something big.”
Mom gave Ella a hug. “The biggest thing that Jesus did was helping us be able to return to Heavenly Father. I think helping is the biggest thing you can do too.”
Later at church, Ella was quiet as sacrament meeting started. In front of her, Sister Simmons was holding her new baby and her two little girls were wiggly and unhappy. It was hard for Ella to think about being like Jesus. One of the girls looked at her sadly.
Ella reached into her scripture bag and pulled out a pencil and a paper. She quickly drew a picture of the little girl and handed it to her. The little girl smiled as she showed the paper to her mom. Ella drew a picture of the other little girl too.
Sister Simmons smiled back at Ella. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Ella looked at Mom. “I guess helping people is being like Jesus. Helping people is the best thing I can do!”

My first contact with the Liahona was when a friend—who later became my husband—brought me a copy when he returned to the United States from serving a mission in Argentina and Chile. Later when I served a mission in Chile, I loved the magazine and was grateful that the members had it to help them build their faith. Now as a senior missionary in Tonga, I use it in the classes I teach at church. Thank you for the Liahona!Sister Mary Lou Ellsworth, Tonga Nuku‘alofa Mission

When I was a small child, I remember coming into my mother’s room and seeing her cry as she read a book. I had never seen her do this, and I asked what she was reading. She said it was a book about a man named Spencer W. Kimball, a prophet of God. She told me many wonderful things about what he had done with his life. From that moment on, I felt that a prophet was someone I could trust and love, especially if my mother felt that way. So when my Young Women leaders asked me to find a message in President Gordon B. Hinckley’s talk, I knew there would be one for me.
As I listened and read through the prophet’s talk, the personal message I found was that I needed to work on reading the scriptures and pondering and praying about them.
Every night, before I went to bed, I would read the scriptures. I would ponder and pray, asking my Father in Heaven if they were true. As I finished and climbed into bed, I felt a warm, tingly sensation through me. I knew my prayers were being answered. Through the week I found I was happier and more helpful. I did better in school. I found the time to study and remembered what I was taught. Usually my mother and I argue about things, but that week I found the patience to listen and understand her point of view, which is something that isn’t easy for me. I felt better about myself than I had in ages. I also noticed the Lord made more time for me to continue my scripture studies.
My testimony was strengthened. I felt worthier—all from reading the scriptures every night before going to bed.
I want to keep those same feelings for the rest of my life. I want to keep on getting those many blessings. And all these blessings had come to me from listening to President Hinckley. I want to have such a wonderful change come over me and become as close to Jesus and Heavenly Father as I do when I read my scriptures.
Young women all over the world, I challenge each of you to listen to the prophet and find something you can improve on, so you can receive the blessings when you follow his advice. I know it works. It is definitely worth it, because you receive so much more than you give. We will always be in debt to Heavenly Father. I know you will draw closer to our Father in Heaven and his Son, Jesus Christ, as you listen to the words of the prophet. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I was recently in Canada, where I visited, among other cities, the city of Regina. There we were hosted by President D. Lawrence Penner, president of the Saskatoon Saskatchewan Stake. He is a wonderful man, an excellent executive. When he was 20 years of age, he was baptized. It was a huge step for him. He had been referred to the missionaries by members of the Church. They immediately looked him up. They talked to him. They taught him. They baptized him. They encouraged him, as did his local Church officers. He was ordained to the Priesthood. He was given things to do. A year later, he was called on a mission and served in Japan. He returned the stronger for that experience. With the encouragement of many people who have helped him along the way, he today stands as the presiding high priest of this great stake of Zion. He is the husband and father of a good family, all of whom are active. He is an example of the kind of man who should be coming into the Church as a convert and remaining to become a leader.

Although Talica has fun at school, she is also a dedicated student. In class, her hand goes up almost automatically when the teacher asks a question. Once when she scored seventh in her class on an exam, she decided that next time she would finish first or second. She studied hard during and after school, and on the next exam she finished second. She receives a well-rounded education in return for her devotion. Students not only learn academic subjects but begin each day with a prayer, attend religion class, and tend a garden plot.

Every year it was the same. They drove from their home in Ohio to attend the family reunion in Utah, stayed a few days, then drove back again.
By the time Bryan was 17, he thought he was bored with it all. He pleaded with his parents to let him stay home and work, but they said it just wouldn’t be the same without him. So he came to yet another family reunion.
The reunion was held at his grandparents’ farm in northern Utah. Their family was given use of a camp trailer that an uncle who lived in town had made available for the reunion.
The morning after they arrived Bryan got up early and watched families as they went about the business of making do. The farmyard looked like it had been invaded by a band of gypsies. There were trailers, tents, and camper-trailers everywhere. Inside his grandparents’ home, kids were sprawled asleep on the floor in every room.
There was a girl his age sitting under a tree reading a book. He recognized her from the reunion two years ago but couldn’t remember her name.
He walked up to her. "Hi. We must be cousins, right?"
She looked like she’d made up her mind to have a miserable time at the reunion. "Do we have to be?"
"Well, this is a family reunion, which means that you’re either a cousin or an aunt. But if you’re an aunt, why haven’t you been sending me Christmas presents every year?"
"Because I’m not Santa Claus."
This was going to be a little tough.
"I see that you and I share the family nose," he said. "How’s it been working for you?"
She was still trying to be grumpy, but Bryan caught a faint smile. "Not very well today," she said. "Usually I can smell a rat."
"Hey, I’m the future of America."
"That’s it. I’m moving to Canada."
He studied her face. "Where did you get your eyes? They’re supposed to be blue. Yours are brown. Are you an imposter?" He sat down next to her. "What grade are you in?"
"I’ll be a junior," she said.
"I’ll be a senior, so I’m older and wiser." He patted her on the head. Then, trying to sound like one of his uncles, he added jokingly, "You know, I remember you when you were just this high."
She closed her book with a smile. "I’m not going to get much reading done with you around, am I?"
"Not much. But, hey, talking to me is a lot better than reading a book. My name’s Bryan. What’s yours? You weren’t at last year’s reunion. How are we related?"
"I had to work during last year’s reunion. My name is Kim. I’m your mother’s Aunt Ruth’s granddaughter if you want to locate me on your family group sheet."
"Aunt Ruth—is she the one who makes fruitcakes for Christmas and sends ’em out to everyone in the family?"
"No. That’s Aunt Melba. What do you do with yours? We store ours in the freezer for a year and then throw it out."
"We usually give ours to the home teachers."
"And they keep coming?"
He paused. "Let me guess—you weren’t too thrilled about coming to the reunion."
"Right. All I ever do at these things is stand around and watch my chubby uncles make fools of themselves playing softball. Two days of that is enough to drive anyone crazy."
"This year you’re in luck. Come on." He took her hand and pulled her to a standing position.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"On a family reunion search for adventure."
"Why don’t we just go in Grandma and Grandpa’s house?" she replied. "It’s getting hot out here already, and there isn’t a lot of shade."
Inside the house he pointed to the fruit room just off the kitchen. It smelled of mildew.
"They say there’s a teenage girl buried in there," he spoke eerily. "She died when she was 16. Sometimes at night she walks the halls crying out for a driver’s license. It’s so sad."
Several younger cousins, still lying on the living room floor trying to wake up for the day, looked around to see who was waking them.
Kim giggled. "Quit teasing," she whispered. "Why did you drag me in here anyway?"
"I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Besides, you dragged me in, didn’t you?"
"You’re crazy."
"I suppose that’s a possibility." He walked to the fruit shelves and looked around. "Want to try some peaches canned ten years ago? They’ve been known to cause insanity."
They found a stack of old magazines, some going back 40 years. He set up a couple of rickety folding chairs and talked her into glancing through them with him.
A few minutes later they went back into the kitchen for some cookies and two glasses of milk.
"This will spoil your supper," he said.
"If last night’s supper is anything like what it’ll be tonight, I hope it does."
They began to show each other interesting things they were reading.
"Look at this girl," he said, showing her a picture of a fashion model.
"Woman, you mean," Kim corrected. "What about her?"
He checked the cover to find out when the magazine was printed. "Now she’s 46 years old. I wonder if she ever looks at this picture and gets depressed because she doesn’t look this way anymore. Or if she ever has any regrets."
"What kind of regrets?"
"About how her life turned out?"
Kim stood up. "Let’s go outside, okay? This place is getting to me."
They decided to go for a walk. There were cousins and aunts and uncles everywhere. Near the top of a hill they stopped to rest. He found himself staring at her face.
"Something wrong?" she asked.
"You know what? If I were a girl, I’d want to look just like you."
She appreciated the compliment. "You would, huh?"
"You bet. And I probably would too." He started speaking in a high-pitched nasal tone. ‘That’s because we’re like two peas in a pod.’ I heard Aunt Melba say that once. Well anyway, we are a lot alike, coming from the same ancestors and all. Same eyes, except yours are the wrong color. Same nose, same double-jointed wrists, same crazy sense of humor …"
"Same humility," she teased.
"Well, yeah, that too."
At lunch Aunt Melba announced that the family variety show would be held that night. She invited anyone who wanted to show off their talents to sign up. Usually the same people volunteered every year. Bryan asked Kim if she wanted to go in with him on a skit, but she said no.
After lunch Bryan and Kim played volleyball with a whole group of relatives, but she quit after a while because one of the uncles kept running in front of her to take any ball heading her direction.
They decided to take another walk. "Can I talk to you about something?" she finally said after a few minutes.
"Sure."
"There’s this guy I’ve been going with," she began. "His name is Rob. He just graduated from high school." She paused. "My parents don’t like him very much."
"Why not?"
"Well, he doesn’t go to church much. And he drinks once in a while, not much now though because I got him to cut down. We haven’t done anything bad. And I think I can get him to come back into the Church. But now he’s going into the army on Monday, so this family reunion couldn’t have come at a worse time. I tried to talk my parents out of making me come up here, but they said I had to." She paused. "The thing is, my parents don’t know this, but Rob’s driving up here tonight."
Bryan smiled. "Oh good. He’ll be just in time to see the variety show. It’s so seldom you get to hear Uncle Harold play Lady of Spain on an accordion. Just once a year since we were little kids, that’s all. It should be a real treat for Rob. I know it will be for me."
"Rob doesn’t even like being around my family. He wants me to go away with him."
"Are you going to do that?"
"What do you think I should do?"
"If you went away with Rob, how long would you be gone?"
"I might be gone a long time."
Bryan swallowed. "You mean like all night?"
"Yes."
"You must really think you love him a lot."
"What do you mean, ‘think?’ I know I love him."
"Enough to go against what you’ve been taught all your life?"
She sighed. "I don’t know. I can’t decide."
"When is Rob coming?"
"Around eight o’clock. He told me to meet him at the old schoolhouse. At the crossroads."
"What about your parents? They’ll be wondering where you are after the variety show."
"I’ll tell them I’ve decided to sleep in the TV room in the house. There’s so many cousins packed in there I don’t think my parents will notice I’m gone." She paused. "Rob’s been really patient with me, but with him going away, well …" She stopped talking. "I really do love him, you know. I really do."
They walked back. Aunt Melba saw them and came after them. "I’ve been looking for you two. I need someone to read the family history."
"Why do we do that every year?" Bryan asked.
"It’s one of our family traditions. Kim, will you read it for us this year?"
"I’d rather not." She glanced at Bryan to help her out.
"I’ll do it," Bryan said.
"Oh, good," Aunt Melba said enthusiastically. "This year try putting expression into it. Last year it was done in such a monotone it put everyone to sleep." She handed him several pages then turned to Kim. "Kim, what do we have you doing for the variety show?"
"Nothing, but that’s okay. Excuse me now. I have to run an errand for my mom." She left.
Aunt Melba made Bryan practice reading the family history for her once to make sure he’d do it right. As soon as she was finished with him, he went to the camping trailer Kim’s family was staying in. He knocked on the door. Kim was there. She came outside.
"I thought Aunt Melba was never going to let me go," he said. "What are you doing?"
"Packing a few things, for tonight."
"Kim, I’ve been thinking."
"I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ve decided to go with Rob."
He sighed. "Oh."
"You won’t tell on me, will you?"
He touched her arm. "Don’t do it, Kim."
"Excuse me. I’ve got to go back in and finish packing before my parents come out."
He tried to think of what to say that would help her change her mind, but he couldn’t come up with anything. He looked at the family history he was carrying.
"If I wait until you come back to the house, will you at least listen to me practice reading the family history? Aunt Melba made me promise to practice it in front of someone."
A few minutes later, they met again in their grandparents’ kitchen. She was carrying a small suitcase that she placed in the corner. She took a seat at the table.
Despite the noise from the TV room, he began.
"We are all privileged to belong to a wonderful family. Genealogical research has so far traced our ancestors back to the 16th century, and further research continues to push back the sands of time.
"As far as the branch of the family which belongs to the Church goes, that began a few years after the Church was organized, when a 16-year-old apprentice shoemaker in Scotland heard two Mormon missionaries. He knew from the very beginning that what he heard was the truth. He wrote to his parents and asked for permission to be baptized. They wrote back and said that if he joined the Church, he would no longer be considered a member of the family. The man he worked for told him that if he joined the Church, he could no longer work for him.
"What a difficult choice for a 16-year-old boy to make. He must have agonized over the decision. To lose everything considered of value in life—his family and a chance to earn an income.
"If he had chosen to reject the gospel, this family would not be meeting here this year, all of us members of the Church, all of us committed to upholding the standards of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
"Every person at some time in his or her life must make the same kind of decision. Each of us must decide, once and for all; we must say to ourselves, ‘This is who I am, and these are the standards I live by.’ Until we do that, we are continually tossed to and fro, not knowing what to do when we face difficult decisions.
"Archibald McKinnon made the decision to join the Church. He came to America and crossed the plains with a handcart company. In time he married a beautiful young woman in the Manti Temple, and from their union, all of us have descended.
"And now for the news of the family during the past year. We are proud to have six of our family serving in the mission field. Last year Matthew and Cathy returned home from their missions. We have three young men who will be leaving before we meet next year.
Bryan continued. ‘We are proud so many of our family choose to live worthily of temple blessings. Last year we had 12 temple marriages, and 16 others who went through the temple for their own endowments. Genealogical research continues to be well supported through our family trust which so many of you help support each month. We had four of our young men earn their Eagle Scout Awards this year, bringing the total to 79 over the years.
"In conclusion we have a heritage and a tradition in our family. This is our family. It goes on forever, both into the future and back into the past, and all of us are grateful for the decision of a 16-year-old boy who had a difficult choice to make. And we’re grateful he made it in such a way that it blessed the lives of all of us here today.’"
Bryan looked up. Kim was crying softly. She looked awful. "I don’t appreciate you preaching to me. You’ve never been in love like I am, so you don’t know what it’s like."
"Maybe not, but I know when I do something wrong I always end up feeling bad about it."
"Just go away, will you? I don’t need you telling me how to run my life." She got up and walked out the door. He tried to follow her but she waved him away.
He returned to the volleyball game, trying to figure out when and how to talk to her parents. He quit playing and went looking for them, but in the few minutes before the show, he couldn’t find them anywhere. Then just before the variety show began, Kim came up to him and asked him if he’d walk with her to the crossroads.
"Why?" he asked.
"I need to talk to you."
They walked along a well-worn path. "Our parents used to walk this way to school every day," she said.
"Yeah, right. And from the way my dad tells it, he had to walk through three feet of snow, uphill both directions."
Her voice became serious.
"I’m going to try to talk Rob into staying at the family reunion tonight."
"Oh. That’s good, Kim."
They climbed to the top of a hill, to where they could see the old schoolhouse at the crossroads. Rob’s car was already there.
"Maybe you’d better stay here," she said.
Bryan sat down and watched her walk the rest of the way to the school. It suddenly dawned on him that she wasn’t carrying her suitcase.
"I’m glad you came," Rob said when Kim arrived.
"I’m not going away with you tonight."
"Why not?"
"It’s not right."
"Kim, we’ve been through all this before. You love me, don’t you?"
"Yes."
"Then what’s the problem?"
She paused before saying anything. "My great-great-grandfather joined the Church when he was just 16. Because of that his family disowned him and he lost his job as a shoemaker. He came across the ocean in a boat without any relatives to help him, and crossed the plains in a handcart."
"I don’t care about any of that."
"I know you don’t, but for the first time in my life I think I do."
"Kim, if you don’t come with me tonight, it’s all over between us."
She closed her eyes. "That’s not fair, Rob. We can be together tonight, but not in the way you mean it. Come with me to my family reunion. There’s going to be a talent show and refreshments."
"Kim, get serious. This is my last night. I don’t want to be stuck with a bunch of your relatives. I want to be with you."
"After the talent show, we can take a walk together."
"You know what I mean."
"Rob, I can’t go against what I’ve been taught all my life."
"Why not?"
"Because I’ve got to keep the temple in sight. I know you think it’s not important, but I want to be married there. Please come with me to the reunion."
"You’re hopeless," he said. He got in his car, slammed the door and drove away.
Kim began sobbing. Bryan hurried down the hill.
"That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do," Kim said between sobs.
"I know. Are you okay?" He put his arm around her shoulders, to let her know she’d be all right.
"I’ll survive," she said. "Besides, you’d have told my parents anyway."
As they made their way along the path their parents had walked as children, they could hear the strains of Lady of Spain being played on the accordion. For the first time either of them could remember, it sounded good.
And they had to hurry back. It was Bryan’s turn to read the family history to everyone.

Camilla C., 14, remembers feeling excited when she turned 12 and entered the Young Women program. “Yes, I finally made it!” says Camilla, reflecting on that day. However, she soon became overwhelmed flipping through the pages of her new, pink Personal Progress booklet. “I realized I had an entire book to complete, and I had just completed Faith in God,” says Camilla.
Kalie G., a Mia Maid at the time, had earned her Young Womanhood Recognition and had decided to work on her Honor Bee, which can be earned after the Young Womanhood Recognition and involves mentoring another young woman with her Personal Progress. Kalie learned that Camilla needed help, and the two young women started meeting together weekly.
Camilla says Kalie “helped me with the scriptures that are listed in the different value experiences. She would assign me one scripture for each day of the week.”
Kalie says, “We would go over the value experience that she completed from the past week. We worked on it for a couple of months.”
Camilla discovered that having Kalie as a mentor was helpful. “I would have waited longer to do my Personal Progress had Kalie not helped,” says Camilla. “She was an inspiration to me. I have grown in my own strength because of her.”
Having these spiritual experiences together has strengthened their friendship. Plus, Camilla is close to earning her Young Womanhood Recognition, and Kalie earned her Honor Bee. But the two agree that something even better came as a result of working on Personal Progress.
“Reading my scriptures morning and night and praying morning and night” are two major habits that Camilla has continued since working on Personal Progress. The same is true for Kalie.
Kalie says, “One of the [Honor Bee requirements] is to read the Book of Mormon again, and I think that helped me keep the habit of reading it every single day.”