Gospel Story Finder

The meeting in Nikolay and Lena’s home on Sunday, 1 June 1997, is typical of the meetings during those days. Twelve people are in attendance: Nikolay, Lena, Anya, and Yulia; Alla, Vitaliy, and Alla’s nonmember mother, Vera; Katya Malihina, a 19-year-old Church member from Kiev attending law school in Chernigov; and four missionaries who have been teaching the group—Elder William and Sister Manette Murri, Elder David Sills, and Elder Chris Colton.
Elder Sills conducts the meeting. Sister Murri plays the piano. (She has been encouraging Anya and Yulia to learn to play several hymns. Before and after the meeting, the girls demonstrate how well they are progressing.)
The opening hymn is “I Need Thee Every Hour,” and Vitaliy offers the prayer. The sacrament hymn is “Jesus Once of Humble Birth.” Nikolay and Elder Colton prepare the sacrament on a small table covered with a simple white cloth and offer the sacrament prayers. Vitaliy passes the bread and water. Then, as sunlight streams through the living room windows, the members and missionaries express love for the Savior and gratitude for the gospel.
Lena weeps as she expresses how wonderful it is to hold Church meetings in her home. “There are very few people here; everybody fits into one apartment,” she says. “In other places, there are more members of the Church, and everybody does not have the opportunity to bear his or her testimony every time.”
She tells about a visit she had with a woman during the week: “I had a feeling in my heart that I should share the gospel with her.” In return, the woman, a member of a Protestant church, shared with Lena the steps necessary to officially register the LDS Church in the city—making a complicated process seem manageable. “The woman and I were happy to have the opportunity to talk with each other about religion. We became good friends, sisters in faith, even though we have different religions. We are all children of God. I know God will always help us and that the Church will grow here in Chernigov.”
Nikolay expresses appreciation for “being able to bear my testimony freely and to show my feelings to other people. How wonderful it is to come to know the truth and to have faith in God and in Jesus Christ, our Savior.” Then he bears witness of the Word of Wisdom. “By following it, we can have a clean heart and a clean body,” he says. “Before, I was often a drunk man, but today I am bearing my testimony! When I began to live the Word of Wisdom, there was a big change inside of me. I look at life a lot differently than before. I don’t want to go back to the darkness we had around us. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has the truth and the commandments we should obey. We are coming closer to becoming like our Heavenly Father.”
Katya Malihina, the 19-year-old law student, says: “Yesterday I spoke with my friend about what Jesus Christ did for us. She asked me many questions.”
Young Anya Shaveko testifies: “I know Jesus Christ lives. The Church of Jesus Christ is true. It was restored through the Prophet Joseph Smith. I hope we can get a branch here as soon as possible so people can come more quickly to the gospel.”
Alla Kurnosova says: “I love the Savior with all my heart, and I try to live His commandments. After our meeting last Sunday, I spoke to my cousin about the Church. She was very interested and wants to come to our next meeting.”
Then Alla’s nonmember mother, Vera, speaks: “This is my first time to come to church here in Chernigov, but I attended several times in St. Petersburg. I have noticed here today the same feeling I had when I went to that branch—peacefulness in my heart. My soul is softened today. I think I will keep coming.”
“Love at Home” is the closing hymn. Eight-year-old Yulia offers the prayer.

My middle name, Fawn, comes from my great-grandmother Fawn Treva DeFord. I knew little about her until a temple trip last November. As part of the Young Women celebration “Turning Hearts to the Family,” the youth in my ward found ancestors who needed their temple work done. I chose Fawn because she was my dad’s favorite grandmother. My dad was excited about my choice, and he began telling me stories about my great-grandma. He even found some of her artwork for me to see.
Besides researching family names, I also had to get ready spiritually to attend the temple. I tried to work on being a better person, and I repented when I made mistakes. I wrote in my journal often about my preparation. Finally November came, and I was ready. Since this was my first time doing baptisms for the dead, I was a little nervous. But as soon as I entered the temple I felt a warm, peaceful feeling. And as I was baptized for my great-grandma, I felt as if she were there, thanking me for giving her the blessings of the gospel.

Elder Lawrence says that just as his life seemed to be winding down, with their six children grown and on their own, he and his wife were called to preside over the Russia Novosibirsk Mission in Siberia in 2001. Elder and Sister Lawrence were required to exercise complete faith as they left their home and family behind to serve in a land where the language, people, and climate were completely unfamiliar.

“It was a great test for us in just putting our trust in the Lord,” Sister Lawrence says. “Everything we worried about fell into place, and [the experience] changed our lives.”

A sign in the kitchen of the mission home provided a constant reminder to “look unto [the Savior] in every thought; doubt not, fear not” (D&C 6:36).

Elder and Sister Lawrence count their mission experience as among the greatest in their lives and feel it prepared them for their new responsibilities with Elder Lawrence’s call to the Seventy.

“We don’t know what’s ahead, but we know it will be good,” Elder Lawrence says.

It is a good thing I did, for a similar event occurred in my life with our youngest son, Clark.
Clark has always liked animals, birds, reptiles—anything that is alive. Sometimes that resulted in a little chaos in our home. One day in his boyhood he came home from Provo Canyon with a water snake, which he named Herman.
Right off the bat Herman got lost. Sister Monson found him in the silverware drawer. Water snakes have a way of being where you least expect them. Well, Clark moved Herman to the bathtub, put a plug in the drain, put a little water in, and had a sign taped to the back of the tub which read, “Don’t use this tub. It belongs to Herman.” So we had to use the other bathroom while Herman occupied that sequestered place.
But then one day, to our amazement, Herman disappeared. His name should have been Houdini. He was gone! So the next day Sister Monson cleaned up the tub and prepared it for normal use. Several days went by.
One evening I decided it was time to take a leisurely bath; so I filled the tub with a lot of warm water, and then I peacefully lay down in the tub for a few moments of relaxation. I was lying there just pondering, when the soapy water reached the level of the overflow drain and began to flow through it. Can you imagine my surprise when, with my eyes focused on that drain, Herman came swimming out, right for my face? I yelled out to my wife, “Frances! Here comes Herman!”
Well, Herman was captured again, put in a foolproof box, and we made a little excursion to Vivian Park in Provo Canyon and there released Herman into the beautiful waters of the South Fork Creek. Herman was never again to be seen by us.

For a number of years it was my opportunity to serve as a member of the Missionary Executive Committee and to profit from the leadership of President Spencer W. Kimball, who was chairman of the committee. On one occasion I remember having read the detail on a particular missionary candidate, and President Kimball indicated that the young man would go, I believe, to London, England. Then he said, “No. That is not correct. Send the young man to the Denmark Copenhagen Mission.”

I looked on the form and noticed that I had overlooked reading a very important statement from the stake president. I said, “President Kimball, have you ever seen this particular form before?”

“No,” he replied.

“Look at what the stake president has written,” I continued. “‘The grandfather of this missionary candidate is an immigrant from the land of Denmark. He is our stake patriarch. The missionary candidate was promised in his patriarchal blessing that if he lived true and faithful he would return to the land of his forebears, that he might preach the gospel in that particular land.’”

President Kimball nodded his approval and said, “The Lord’s will has been made known today.”

When my family and I started attending The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I felt in my heart that my mom had guided us there.
Mom had died unexpectedly on Christmas Day two years before. She was an incredibly faithful and humble follower of Jesus Christ, but she had never learned about the restored gospel. After 11 months of learning about the Church, my husband, Navid, my daughter, Katie, and I were baptized on Christmas Day. What had once been a day of sadness because of my mother’s passing would now be a day of happiness for our family because of our new life in the gospel.
Many people attended our baptism. I was shocked to see over 100 people there at 10:00 a.m. on Christmas morning! We couldn’t have felt more loved.

It’s early Saturday morning. You have lots to do—go to the mall, hang out with friends, maybe catch up on your homework. This is definitely going to be a long and enjoyable day. Then the phone rings and you remember that this Saturday is your ward’s youth serve-a-thon. You groan and think about getting in one more hour of sleep, right?
Of course not. Getting up is as easy as counting to ten, especially if you’re in the Richmond (Virginia) Ward and today you get to join the missionaries for a day of service. Besides, you’ll be meeting a lot of new people, since much of the service will be for those who aren’t members of the Church.
This Saturday morning, youth from the Richmond Ward are spread out in five different locations around the city. The first stop is a small house in the middle of Richmond. Fourteen-year-old Zack Harton and his friend Will Jones are stationed here, raking leaves, pulling weeds, and having fun.
Zack doesn’t personally know the family his group is helping, but he does know that this family is investigating the Church. Therefore, he knows that he’s also setting an example. “It makes me feel good, because I’m helping someone in need—just as I would help my own brother and sister if they needed help,” Zack says.
His friend Will is also investigating the Church and is glad that Zack invited him to come along today. Will has already caught on to the wonderful feeling that comes from service. “I feel that I have an obligation toward other people,” Will says. “I started coming with Zack to Scouts and never knew it was going to get into this. But I just think it’s wonderful that somebody would care enough to do this. While we were working in the yard, everyone would just help one another. You didn’t even have to ask. I could just feel God around me.”
Will’s enthusiasm for service touches Cary Fleming as she, too, helps to clean up at this stop. “The house looked pretty bad when we got there,” Cary says. “I wondered how we were going to clean all this. But then Will started singing nonstop, and I kept on pulling weeds, and we had a blast.”
Cary found out that what her mom said last night was right. “I did not want to go, but she told me it would strengthen my testimony if I really prayed about going and asked to have a good time. So I knelt down and I prayed, and I’ve had the best time.”
A couple of miles away, Charity Holderness is cleaning bedrooms and bathrooms for a part-member family in the Richmond Ward. For Charity, this is a little out of the ordinary. “When I clean my own room, my mom thinks I’m sick,” she says.
Today she’s feeling something different. “I can’t even explain this feeling. I know that I haven’t done even a fraction of the work some people do. But I feel so much better knowing that I can keep doing small things. Maybe I’ll sweep the kitchen floor when I get home.”
Thirteen-year-old Caity Ingles is also here. She is a nonmember and came with her friend April Lacy. April invited Caity because “I want her to know that I like to serve and help other people.”
The two missionaries at this station like April’s idea about setting an example. Elder Jeffrey Mortensen, from Visalia, California, says, “We’re just the missionaries serving in this area for a short time. But when a ward member can make a connection with a nonmember, that is awesome.”
Building relationships—as well as cutting down some unwanted trees—is in full swing where a third group of youth are stationed. Todd Swenson, 17, is here, and he’s a little tired from pulling up roots and clearing leaves. But his attitude is not the least bit worn. “This is my first time doing anything like this, but I want to do it again. I think it makes the people we are helping feel like they have friends, that someone is looking out for them,” Todd says.
Ben Mullins, 14, agrees. “I hope it makes them feel that the Church likes to help other people. It also gives me a better attitude about serving.”
Besides, according to Heather Swenson, there’s not much else to do on a Saturday. “I can spare one. I’ve got a lot of time left in my life to help other people. I need to use that time.”
Across town at a less-active ward member’s home, Chris Odell knows all about using his time well. “I know this is the best thing I could do today,” Chris says. “When I serve, I feel so close to heaven.”
Lindsay Lansing, 14, nods in agreement and says, “Service shows that you love and respect others.” She helps the sister missionaries here gather leaves and stuff them into a garbage bag. This is not the first time she has joined them to provide service for her neighbors and less-active ward members. “I do this whenever I get the chance.”
Lindsay, Chris, and the rest of the group here finish quickly, but they don’t want to quit yet. So each of them jumps into a leader’s van to find another group that may need some extra hands.
By lunchtime, the last group of Richmond Ward youth are putting finishing touches on a wall at Svetlana Iskiyayev’s Village Shoe Shop. They have spent the morning tidying and painting the back room of the shop.
Svetlana and her husband left careers as a doctor and a lawyer when they came to Virginia from Russia several years ago. Now they are building their dreams here. And Helen Capehart, 16, is happy she can help them. She has invited two nonmember friends to help her today and hopes that they, as well as the Iskiyayevs, will see the light of the gospel through her service.
After all, examples of service are what drew Helen to the gospel herself just a short time ago. She says, “I’m so grateful that the Lord led me to this church, and for the awesome examples my friends here have been to me. My biggest example now is Jesus Christ, and I find so much joy in serving him. I hope I always have this feeling in me.”
Most likely, that feeling will stay with Helen because she has found an important key to sharing the gospel—service.
As youth from the Richmond Ward close their day of service with a testimony meeting, Helen once again captures the essence of this activity. “I don’t think that I’ve ever felt the Spirit so strong in my life as when I am serving the Lord,” Helen says. “Look at all those magazines with beautiful people on the covers. The world says that’s beauty. But when I was working today, I got paint and dirt all over me. And I think that is the Lord’s true definition of beauty.”
She is probably right. What could be more beautiful than a child of God who has found the way to happiness by following the example set by a friend?

The next morning Samuel gave a copy of the Book of Mormon to a poor widow who fed him breakfast. Then he walked 8 miles (13 km) and shared the Book of Mormon with John Greene, a Methodist minister, who took it only to see if others he knew might be interested in buying a copy. Mr. Greene’s wife, Rhoda, was Brigham Young’s sister, but Brigham had not yet been introduced to the Church.

When Samuel returned to the Greenes’ home in two weeks, he learned that Mr. Greene hadn’t found anyone who was interested in the Book of Mormon. So Samuel agreed to return in a few months. When he did, Mr. Greene wasn’t home, but Mrs. Greene told Samuel that she had read the book “and was much pleased with it.” The Spirit prompted Samuel to leave the book with her. She was so grateful “she burst into tears.” Samuel then “explained to her the most profitable manner of reading the book … which was, to ask God, when she read it, for a testimony of the truth of what she had read, and she would receive the Spirit of God, which would enable her to discern the things of God.”4

Later Mrs. Greene urged her husband to read the Book of Mormon too. He did, and they were soon baptized.

Elder Darwin B. Christenson, a new member of the Second Quorum of the Seventy, says that experiences with his children have strengthened his testimony of the gospel, the eternal family, and the power of the priesthood. Not long after he and his wife went through the heartbreak of losing a baby shortly after birth, their next child, Stephen, was born prematurely. Because the baby’s lungs were underdeveloped, doctors gave him a 50 percent chance of surviving.
Elder Christenson and the family’s home teacher gave the tiny infant a blessing as he lay in a hospital incubator, surrounded by tubes and medical equipment. Afterward, says Elder Christenson, “I told my wife not to worry; he was going to be OK.” The next morning, true to the impression Elder Christenson had received, Stephen showed marked improvement. Today, Stephen is the father of three boys.

Lance Reynolds can understand that feeling. Football had become an important part of his life at an early age, beginning with little league. He played offensive and defensive tackle at Granite High School in Salt Lake City and was chosen to the all-region team his junior year. As a senior, he was selected to all-state and again to all-region.

The year Lance entered Brigham Young University was the first year freshmen were allowed to play varsity ball, and he played with the varsity football team enough to letter. His sophomore year he was on the starting team, and his junior year promised to be a great one—he would have been the only offensive lineman returning. But it was time for Lance to go on his mission, and although he had always planned to go, the final decision was a tough one to make.

“At the time,” he remembers, “leaving on a mission seemed like the end of all hopes for a football career.” It seemed like a choice between football and a mission. He chose the mission.

Five years and a professional contract later, Lance no longer feels that you have to make a choice. “Why not do both?” he asks. “Young students and athletes don’t have to ‘give up’ things to go on a mission—only postpone them for two years.”

And he should know. Having kept himself in shape during his mission by exercising during personal time (before 6:30 A.M.) and watching his weight, Lance was able on his return to slip back into his uniform and the game with ease. Within two weeks he felt at home on the field. The following season he was on the starting lineup at BYU. His senior year he was selected all-WAC (Western Athletic Conference), All-American honorable mention, and was drafted in the ninth round pro draft by the Pittsburgh Steelers. He is now playing with the Philadelphia Eagles.

Do these athletes feel that they are better for having served a mission? A unanimous yes! As Mark McGregor put it, “There are many similarities between the mission field and the field of athletics, especially regarding the mental aspect. A positive mental attitude is imperative in both. I learned a lot about what it takes to gain this positive mental attitude in the mission field, and it has had a beneficial effect on my swimming.”

Lance feels he gained in intensity, concentration, and self-control. And all three felt an increased confidence upon returning to their sport.

Although some missionaries do return and fade away from the sports scene, it is usually due to a shift in interests rather than inability. Ed, Mark, and Lance are convinced that any athlete who serves a mission will be able to regain his previous ability upon diligently applying himself.

And even if that were not the case, Lance wouldn’t have missed his mission for anything. “I would trade all of my athletic experiences for the opportunity of going on a mission,” he insists.

I searched and searched for the perfect gift for Grandpa. Grandpa was dying of cancer, and this would probably be his last Christmas with us. I had been thinking for months on just the perfect thing to get for him. I wanted to give him something unique that would be just a small symbol of all the love and admiration that I had for him. But nothing that I saw seemed to be a worthy representation of that love.
Soon it was Christmas Eve and I still didn’t have a gift for Grandpa. I went shopping one last time, and once again I came home without a gift. I started thinking, if Grandpa had some money, what would he do with it? How would he want the money spent? The answer came to my mind quietly but positively: He would give the money to someone less fortunate than himself. So that’s how the money was used.
I got some paper and wrote about all the feelings I had for Grandpa, told him what I had done for him for Christmas, put the letter in an envelope with a Christmas card, and quickly gave it to him with a kiss. Before he could say anything, I wished him a Merry Christmas, and went back to my room.
A little while later, I went to get something for my mother and passed Grandpa’s room. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. He called me in, drew me close to him, and gave me one of those huge hugs that only grandpas can give. “That was the best gift you could have given me,” he said.
That was Grandpa’s last Christmas with us. It wasn’t until some time after his death that I slowly realized that Grandpa had given me one of the most precious gifts that I’ll ever receive. He had helped me understand that the best gift that one can give is a part of one’s self. Through example, Grandpa had awakened in me a desire to be like him and in so doing, had given me a better understanding of the glorious personage whom he was striving to be like.

As long as I can remember, I have had a soccer ball at my side and a dream to be a professional player. My parents supported me as I pursued this dream. They also encouraged me to go to church. But as I got older I was at church only when I didn’t have a game. I knew that the gospel, Church activities, and my friends would help me a lot in life, but what I was really looking for was to fulfill my dream of playing soccer.
As I trained I began to have important friends inside the great soccer clubs. I had opportunities to play and even train with some of these clubs. I traveled throughout various countries to participate in tournaments, and I was very excited and happy with the possibility of living the life of a professional soccer player. On one of these trips to Asia, my dream was about to come true. A large club liked what they saw when they watched me play and wanted me to join the team. But my agent found some obstacles during the negotiation, and we ultimately didn’t close the contract.
At home my friends were filling out mission papers; others were returning from missions and telling with enthusiasm what it was like to be a missionary. Their eyes shone with emotion each time they spoke, and the Spirit was very strong. I felt the desire to serve a mission too; I wanted to have these same experiences. But I worried that if I chose to serve a mission, my soccer dream wouldn’t come true because I would lose physical fitness and agility. My desire to become a professional player was enormous; I had put off college and worked and lived only to fulfill this dream.
On my soccer trips I always brought a copy of the Book of Mormon. I loved the words of the prophets, their way of life, their determination to obey the commandments, and their good example for their people. I felt ashamed of not being an example for the other players and not putting the things of God first. Sometimes I tried to share my beliefs, but what I always heard was “Let’s enjoy the trip. Forget about this nonsense. Let’s go have fun!” I started to get irritated with the gossip, dishonesty, and other aspects of soccer life. Many times I felt alone and sad, and I knew there was a place where I always felt happy and had friends who cared about me—friends who were together at activities and dances, in seminary and institute classes—celestial friends. I missed these things very much.
One Sunday when I wasn’t traveling, I went to church in my home ward in Brazil. At the end of the meetings, the bishop called me into his office to talk. I knew that we were going to talk about a mission because everyone my age was returning home. The bishop challenged me to serve a mission, and I tried to change the subject, saying that I wasn’t prepared. I tried to put off the bishop in every possible way, but he persevered and convinced me of the value of a mission. We ended the conversation with a goal for my preparation.
Some months later I turned in my papers, and I also continued with my training. For the moment, I had managed to reconcile soccer and the Church in my mind. But little did I know that it couldn’t last for long. I would have to choose.
When my call arrived, my family gathered at home. We were all very excited. Then the telephone rang.
On the other end of the line, my soccer agent told me that he had obtained a good contract with a European club. My imagination soared! I could see the stadium full of people coming to watch the games. I thought of the beautiful house and car and salary I could have. My dream was about to be fulfilled. It was within my grasp—and then I looked at the envelope with the call sitting beside the phone.
My eyes began to fill with tears. For a moment my life passed as if it were a movie. On the phone, my agent asked me what I thought of the news. I was silent. I couldn’t talk, and my legs were shaking. I didn’t want this moment to be real, but it was! I had to make a decision, the most difficult of any decision in my life.
With my voice shaking, I finally told him that I had already obtained a better contract. I would be a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for two years. I thanked the agent for the opportunity and for his work and effort on my behalf. Then I hung up the phone and went to my room, where I cried for a long time. I knew that the opportunity wouldn’t wait for two years, and my soccer dream would not be realized.
I knelt and prayed to Heavenly Father, asking for comfort. I felt a quiet and sweet voice respond, comforting my heart by saying, “My son, you are already part of the best team in the world.” I reflected on these words and still reflect on them today.
Today, home from serving in the Brazil Fortaleza Mission, I don’t regret my choice in any way. The true Church of Jesus Christ is available to anyone who wants to be happy. And on my mission I learned that the best way to be happy is doing what Heavenly Father wants us to do. My mission was the best choice I have ever made in my life. It taught me that all who seek first the kingdom of God will have a place on the Lord’s team (see Matthew 6:33).

“I was in sacrament meeting when it happened,” said Joyce Allsop, 19, of the Yakima Fifth Ward, Yakima Washington Stake, about a hundred miles from Mt. St. Helens. “I looked out the window and everything was getting darker and darker. There were flashes of eerie, orange-red lightning through the ash particles, like nothing I’ve ever seen before, but no rain. The thunder came so close that we all ducked, and the building shook. We thought it would fall down on us. Then everything turned pitch black, at 10:00 in the morning, and stayed that way for 24 hours.
“Outside, ashes were falling like snow, only you could feel it, like sand pelting you. Then it started coming down like a heavy, gritty rain.”
The members of Joyce’s ward were told that the volcano had erupted and that the roads were extremely hazardous, with visibility down to zero. She and a friend decided to drive the 20 miles home, because they wanted to be with their families.
“As soon as we got into the car, we said a prayer to help us get home. We started out and could barely see anything, it was so dark. Cars where pulled off in ditches to the side of the road because people couldn’t see where the road was. Most people had no idea where they were. The only way we ever made it home was with the Lord’s help.
“When we got home, we got calls from all sorts of concerned people, some we hardly even knew, checking that we’d made it home safely,” she added.
The abrupt change from a peaceful, secure life to not knowing what would happen gave Joyce a lot to think about.
“I realized how blessed we were to get home safely. And I thought, if this is anything like the Second Coming, we have to be more prepared. I think I could also relate a little to how the Nephites must have felt when Christ was crucified, when it turned pitch black. Those words from the Book of Mormon suddenly took on new meaning.
“I also understood how powerful the forces of nature are and how quickly the world could be destroyed. And I realized, more fully why we need to have food storage and clothing, supplies, and water on hand. As soon as the general public in Yakima heard that the roads were closed because of the eruption, they all rushed to stock up on supplies. Now a lot of the single people from home are starting their own food storage programs,” said Joyce.

It was summertime, right in the middle of haying season. A lot of hay was down, and my neighbor Frank Rees waited eagerly for the dew to come so he could get started. It was a Saturday night when the conditions were finally right, so Frank drove to his field and started baling his hay.
As he baled he noticed the headlights of his friend and neighbor across several fields. He too was taking advantage of the favorable conditions and was baling his hay. Several years before, Frank had made the decision not to work on the Sabbath, and he knew he would stop on this night just before midnight to honor that commitment. He wondered what his neighbor would do. It would be such a temptation to continue baling under these favorable conditions with so much hay down and ready.
As the hours passed he continued to notice his neighbor’s headlights and knew he was still baling. A few minutes before midnight Frank shut off the baler and drove the tractor to his truck. In the quiet darkness he noticed that his neighbor had also chosen to honor the Sabbath and had quit baling.
After telling this story in sacrament meeting, Frank looked over his shoulder to his neighbor, now the bishop of their ward.
“Do you remember that?” he asked.
Bishop Munns nodded and said, “I didn’t have a watch. I was watching you.”

For Mackena, 15, her testimony did not come until after a very personal, painful trial of faith (see Ether 12:6).

“Until the time I was about 12,” she says, “I had never had a single doubt about the gospel. I knew that the temple was where I was going. I knew that my family could be together forever, that Heavenly Father loves me, and that the Church is true.

“But once I got into middle school, I began doubting a lot. And for three years I didn’t know that the Church is true. It was really hard. It was the loneliest, most terrible, saddest time in my life.”

Then one day her seminary teacher taught, “If you want faith, then it will come.” The message struck a chord with Mackena.

“I decided that I really wanted faith, because I was miserable. So I prayed a lot and I started reading my scriptures by myself for the first time in my life. And I repented. Now I feel that Jesus Christ is my very, very best friend. I know that He knows me and loves me.

“I’m just really grateful,” Mackena says, “because now I know how precious my faith is to me, and I never want to let that go—ever.”

My brother David (3) had a little bicycle. One day he left the bike out in the way of my dad’s car. His bike got run over, and the little axle was bent. David was sad. His bike was too broken to ride.
A couple of weeks later, I said, “David, let’s try to fix your bike.” We brought the bike out onto the driveway and tried hammering the axle to straighten it. It didn’t work. My little sister Heidi (5) came out. She had a bike like David’s, and that day her wheel had broken off. She told David that he could have the axle and the other wheel from her broken bike.
Then David scraped his knee and had to go inside. I took the axle off Heidi’s bike, and then I went and asked Dad to help us. I helped Dad get the tools to put one of Heidi’s wheels on David’s bike. Soon the bike was fixed.
I went inside to tell David. He came out, and he was really excited about his bike getting fixed. He did not care that his old wheel was black and the new wheel from Heidi’s bike was purple. He got on the bike and rode around the driveway really fast. Mom and Dad watched him ride, too.
I was happy that David’s bike was fixed. I felt glad that Heidi and I could help our little brother.

As a single parent, my mother had many things to do, but she always took time to help me, comfort me, or simply listen to me. Knowing that she was always there was invaluable, and I want to give that to my own children in the future.
When my mother remarried, her new husband chose to become the father of my older brother and me. Soon afterward, a little sister joined our family, but I have never felt the slightest difference in the affectionate and loving way he has taken care of us all as his own. Thanks to his attitude, my older brother and I have been able to grow up in a strong and unified family with the priesthood in the home. The day we were sealed as a family was very special. His loving example has taught me that a father isn’t just something you are—it’s something you become.

When I was 14, I went camping with some friends. As we sat in a circle talking, one of the guys reached into his pack and pulled out a can of beer. Everyone went silent as he popped the lid and held it high above his head. “If any of you are men,” he bellowed, “you’ll have a drink with me.” Tilting the can to his lips, he took a large swallow.
All the eyes were on the can as the boy next to him received it in his waiting hand. He didn’t hesitate. He took a swig with great bravado in front of us all. The can moved to the next boy in the circle.
As it moved in my direction, my mind searched for a quick solution, a cool response that would rescue me. I knew what was right and wrong. I knew what the Word of Wisdom said. I knew how seven-year-old Joseph Smith refused any liquor to dull the pain of the operation on his leg.
These things raced through my mind as the can found its way to the third boy. He had not come to be tempted. He thought he was just going camping. As he held the can, I could sense the frantic debate going on in his mind. All eyes were upon him, staring, seeming to demand that he drink as the others had. I could almost hear his cries pleading for his mother to come save him, but she was nowhere to be found. Try as he did, he could not handle the pressure. He took a drink and hurriedly passed the can to my friend—my example—Rick.
My heart was pounding as I realized that I was the next one in the circle to receive the can. I didn’t know how I was going to get out of this one. I imagined that if I didn’t take a drink, they would bury me up to my neck in the hills somewhere and let the ants crawl through my nose and ears. “Rick,” I thought to myself, “if you take one sip of that, I’m going to slug you.”
Rick held the can. He looked at me, and I looked at him. We then both looked at the can he was holding and up at the dozen other faces waiting anxiously.
For a moment, Rick just stared at the can. Then he casually put it down, reached into his pack, and fished around until he found what he was looking for. He raised a purple can into the air for all to see.
“If any of you are men,” Rick yelled, “you’ll have a drink of grape soda with me!” Rick popped the lid, brought the can to his lips, and tilted his head back dramatically as he drank from it. Then he passed it back in the direction from which the beer had come.
The kid next to Rick found himself holding the soda now. Everyone was staring at him. He gladly drank some and passed it on. As they were enjoying the grape soda, Rick grabbed the beer can and threw it as far as he could. The can, frothing at one end as it twirled in the air, dropped into the gully below.

In my last year of teaching Year 1 children, I decided to share the real message of Easter with the children in my class. I borrowed the video of He is Risen, a cartoon version of the Easter story. The children sat and watched intently, which was a miracle in itself. At the end of the video, they were full of amazement, all asking questions. One boy asked if he would see his deceased grandfather again. Hearing the children ask these questions and being able to answer them made it feel as if I was hearing the message for the first time myself. I stopped and thought about how much I had taken this truly miraculous event for granted.

While still living at home, Beatrix began sending illustrated letters to Noel, the son of a former governess. He read the letters with such delight that Beatrix decided to make a book. She lengthened the Peter Rabbit story and submitted it to Frederick Warne & Co., a London publisher. Although it was rejected, Miss Potter had faith in her rabbit story. She felt so strongly that children would like it that she had it published privately. The book sold quickly for one shilling and twopence a copy. During the next eighty years, over twenty million copies were sold!
The Tale of Peter Rabbit has been translated into thirteen languages. Sightless children can also enjoy the book in Braille.