Gospel Story Finder

Why is a superactivity super? Earning the right to go is half the fun. The 17th Ward of the Las Vegas East Stake plans two superactivities for the Explorer-aged boys every year. One activity takes place in the winter and is usually a cross-country skiing adventure or a snowmobiling trip. In the summer, for the past few years, the superactivity has truly been super. It is a scuba-diving water-skiing campout trip to Catalina Island. Qualifying to go on this super outing involves more than just being the right age. During the year each boy fills several requirements before he is allowed to go: 100 percent attendance at MIA with no unexcused absences, and 75 percent attendance at all other Church meetings. Each boy must be dressed in his official Explorer uniform every week. Three nonmembers were included in the group this year, and although they were not required to attend priesthood meeting, they had to attend two sacrament meetings and two Sunday School meetings per month. They also had to have 100 percent attendance at MIA and wear their Explorer uniforms. In addition to these requirements, each boy had to earn five merit badges in the six-month period preceding the activity.
As difficult and rigid as these qualifications may seem, it is interesting to note that fifteen boys met the requirements for this summer’s superactivity trip to Catalina Island and that each boy actually looked forward to completing the necessary requirements.
Camping gear, scuba diving equipment, and plenty of food were packed for the trip to Catalina, and the group of Explorers along with six enthusiastic leaders headed for the California coast. The boats were launched in the early morning when the sea was calm. Proper compass settings were important in reaching their destination. Catalina is some twenty miles from the California coast, and the boat trip to the island is scenic and refreshing.
Instead of camping in or near Catalina’s one large city, Avalon, the group went to the other end of the island and pitched their tents on the large isthmus that protrudes north from the island. Camp was organized, and most important of all, a large cooking area with stoves and necessary kitchen gear was laid out in a central location.
The opportunity for activity seemed to be endless. The early morning hours were spent in the bay water skiing and swimming. This was an ideal time because the water was calm. During the afternoon when the water became rougher, the boats were loaded with skin-diving gear and the boys explored various interesting spots around the island. These diving expeditions were not only enjoyable and exciting experiences but also very practical. Around the island abalone and lobster can be found, and these delicacies made excellent eating for the entire group.
These activities, along with exploring the island, snorkeling, and body surfing, were just a few of the many and varied things that were going on all the time.
One day was spent exploring the tourist city of Avalon. The boys got cleaned up and toured the resort community and that evening saw a movie before returning to camp.
With waves rolling into the shore and the sun shining down on the group, they held a spiritually moving testimony meeting that was one of the highlights of the excursion.
At the end of the fifth day, twenty-one very good friends broke camp and prepared for the long trip back to Las Vegas.
Upon their arrival home, the tired but happy Explorer group was met by grateful parents who by nature seem to worry when their boys are away. Happily there was nothing more serious than a few bruises and sore muscles to report—only memories of a superactivity.

All my life I strove for perfection: I strove to be the angel child, the straight-A student, the exceptional friend, family member, and athlete. But things didn’t work out the way I’d hoped, and I started to feel like I was losing control over my life.
So I turned to something I could control: how much I ate. I began to look in the mirror and feel unhappy with what I saw—an imperfect girl. The only way to make her perfect was to be skinny. I began to weigh myself daily. I ate less and less. I turned down foods I loved. And still I was not happy.
My parents noticed my frequent gloomy attitude, and they noticed I was not eating very much. When they realized that something was not normal, they took me to my pediatrician. Sure enough, my weight was down an unhealthy amount. I was diagnosed with the eating disorder anorexia. I was put on an anxiety medication and treated by three specialty doctors. I was to the point that they almost put me in the hospital to save my life. I was walking the line of life and death. At the time I didn’t realize how bad things were. I didn’t even know what anorexia was: an emotional disorder characterized by an obsessive desire to lose weight by refusing to eat.
I got mad. I did not see what the problem was and why everyone was so worried. Wasn’t that what I was supposed to be doing—staying healthy and being skinny? My family decided to fast and pray for me. This made me frustrated. I didn’t think people should fast and pray for me, because I thought I was healthy, happy, and content with how I looked.
My parents and siblings told me over and over, “You need to change. You need to seek a desire to change.” I didn’t want to change. I didn’t want to put on weight, and I couldn’t see why they wanted me to, either.
Countless times they would tell me, “Turn to the Lord. Tell Him you want to change and ask Him to help you change.” I would pray for these things, but it was an empty cry. I didn’t want help but went along with it to make my parents and doctors happy.
I had been receiving treatment for my eating disorder for about a year and a half when my sister, who was serving a mission at the time, said, “You need to change.” I had been told that over and over again and was kind of sick of hearing it, so I just said in frustration, “How? How do you want me to change?”
From the time I was diagnosed with anorexia, I had read my scriptures every night, had not missed morning or night prayer, and had gone to church. I said to my sister, “I have asked God to change me, and I am still here. He isn’t listening.” I felt frustrated, but I knew giving up my scripture study and daily prayers would do nothing to help the situation.
My kind sister thought for a moment and then said, “You need to want to change. Go to God, and talk to Him like you would to me, and tell Him you are ready to change.” What she said hit me like a ton of bricks. I went to my Heavenly Father, a little nervous but honest and earnest, and just said, “OK, here I am. Help me to change. Please help me to find a desire to change.”
Things did not get better immediately, but I had a slight change of heart. Ever so slightly, I began to want to be healthier, to eat, and to be free from this illness. Little by little, things improved.
I still fight daily to eat, but it is so much better because I turned to the Lord for help. I did not do this by myself and could not have done it by myself.
Heavenly Father and His Only Begotten Son, Jesus Christ, did not leave me comfortless. The Savior is aware of every little pain and agony I feel and have felt. Not only is He aware of them, but He has also felt them (see Alma 7:11–13). He knows how we are suffering. He knows we want to give up, and He gives us the extra boost to keep us going.
There were countless times when I would wonder, “When will it go away? Why me?” I wanted to give up. Later I realized that Heavenly Father has a plan, and I need to trust in His plan. His plan is perfect, although I do not always see it in that way. I also know that the Lord blessed me with amazing parents, doctors, family, and friends throughout this process.
Truly, God knew I would need all the help and support I could get, and each person was inspired of God to help me. God does not leave us to fend for ourselves no matter the situation. He is there, and He wants us to turn to Him, to be saved through His Son’s amazing Atonement. I know that God loves His children and that He has prepared a way for us to return to Him no matter the gravity of our trial or sin.

I really don’t know why I signed up for seminary in 11th grade. Ninth grade was easy enough to explain. My best friend, Mary, begged me. Her mother insisted that she attend, and Mary vowed she’d die of boredom if I didn’t go with her. We’d been practically inseparable from the time we were two, so I believed it was my duty to go with her.
Tenth grade was a little more difficult to explain. I registered for seminary with Mary—again because she had to. But her mom remarried before the school year started, and Mary moved to Nevada. That year, although I didn’t drop the seminary class, most of the time I didn’t attend. I wasn’t interested in what the seminary teacher had to offer, and I was lonely without Mary.
By default, I registered for seminary again when I was a junior, mostly because there were no other classes I wanted. So I went and sat in the back, nestled by myself in the corner. Brother Hardy often tried to involve me in the discussions and scripture reading. Sometimes I participated, but most of the time I declined during our study of the Book of Mormon.
Every day Brother Hardy closed his lesson by bearing testimony to the truthfulness of the gospel. He seemed sincere enough in his beliefs, but each day I grew increasingly irritated at his word choice. He always said “I know.” But he couldn’t, I thought. He was wrong. He could feel, he could think, he could believe. But he could not know.
After class one day I decided to set him straight. He turned and smiled at me, and his eyes smiled too. “Sister Atwood, what can I help you with?” he asked.
“It’s about your word choice,” I said.
“Oh?”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d say ‘I believe’ rather than ‘I know.’ You can’t know what you can’t see.” I turned to walk away, certain he’d choose his words more carefully from then on.
“Sister Atwood, wait!” he called out after me.
I stopped and looked at his gentle green eyes. Something about him drew me in, something in his gaze. “What?” I asked.
“Sister,” he said softly, “do you want to know?”
I shook my head in disbelief. “But no one can know what they can’t see.” I didn’t want to tell him I didn’t believe there was a God; I didn’t want to let him know how hopeless and bleak the world looked to me. “No one can know,” I mumbled again, and the conviction of that belief left me lost, lonely, and small.
Brother Hardy reached for a book on his table. “Have you ever read the Book of Mormon, Colleen?”
“No.”
“Do you have one at home?”
“No. I have a Bible. But I don’t read it anymore.”
“Here.” He held the book out to me. “This is yours. You keep it. Every night before you go to bed, kneel down and pray to your Heavenly Father. He’ll hear you. Even if you haven’t prayed to him for a very long time. Ask him to help you understand what is in this book. Remember, always pray before you read. Read it just like you would those good books I see you with. Read it as if the people in this book are speaking directly to you. Will you do that?”
I shrugged my shoulders and took the book from him. I didn’t want to take his book. But he was so kind I didn’t want to tell him no.
The next day Brother Hardy bore his testimony. And he said “I know” again. He didn’t understand after all. He watched me as I walked out the door that day. I could feel his eyes fixed on me even while he talked to the other students. I didn’t look back.
At home that night I picked up the book. I knew he’d ask me if I was reading it. I didn’t want to lie to him, so I thought about dropping the class as I set the book back on my nightstand.
For the next several days, I went to seminary, dreading the day he’d pull me aside. Although he always greeted me warmly, he never asked me if I’d been reading the book. I began to relax and decided to stay in the class. I even took my turn reading scriptures. The days passed, and, as always, Brother Hardy bore his testimony. He looked me squarely in the eyes each time he said “I know.” Always the look was gentle, almost pleading.
One night, with nothing else to do, I picked up the Book of Mormon and turned the pages. I started reading Joseph Smith’s testimony. Then I remembered Brother Hardy’s instruction to pray first. So I crawled out of bed and knelt on the floor. “Help me to understand,” I asked simply. I finished Joseph’s testimony and the testimonies of the Three Witnesses. Night after night, I stayed with my plan. Pray then read. Let those in the Book of Mormon speak to me.
Soon the voices were real, and it seemed that Nephi was pleading with me because of the hardness of my heart. My appetite for the book became insatiable, and I read into the wee hours.
In 3 Nephi when Jesus Christ visited the American continent, I felt that I was there with them, that I could see and feel the prints of the nails in his hands and feet. I cried. When the Nephites fell away and all but Moroni were slain, I wept again.
Then I read the promise found in Moroni 10:3–5 [Moro. 10:3–5]. I put the bookmark in the book, closed it, climbed out of bed and knelt down to pray once again. “Heavenly Father,” I asked simply, “if it’s true, please help me to know and understand.” I closed my prayer and climbed back into bed, my eyes so full of tears that they blurred my vision.
I finished reading the Book of Mormon, then lay awake at the wonder of it. I knew—without seeing or touching—that the Book of Mormon was true. For the first time I knew Heavenly Father and Jesus were real. I knew Joseph Smith had seen God. And by the power of the Holy Ghost, with my spiritual eyes, I too saw him.
The next day I sat on the front row in seminary. When Brother Hardy finished his lesson by saying “I know,” I said “amen.” He stopped me after class. “It’s been a while, Colleen. How are you doing with the reading?” he asked.
“Oh, I finished it,” I said.
“Good!” He clapped his hands together. “Good! And?”
I looked at the ceiling and shook my head. “And I know,” I choked. “I know.”
In the years since, I have often thought of Brother Hardy. I have wanted him to know that I married a returned missionary in the temple and that I have two fine sons who also will serve the Lord in the mission field. I have wanted Brother Hardy to know how his pebble rippled.

Church leaders were assigned by the First Presidency of the Church to reorganise the stake presidency. They had prayed and received impressions to their hearts and minds (See Doctrine and Covenants 8:2) that Kumaitotoya, who was then serving as a bishop, was the man the Lord had chosen.
Kaumaititoya received authority to lead the stake as Church leaders placed their hands on his head and blessed him in the same manner as the disciples were in the Biblical account found in John 15.
Elder David A. Bednar, of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, taught that the priesthood is the authority to act in the name of Jesus Christ. He said, “Because Christ is not here with us, His priesthood is needed to teach His doctrine and to perform the ordinances of salvation. Priesthood authority is given to worthy male members of the Church and is received ‘by the laying on of hands by those who are in authority, to preach the Gospel and administer in the ordinances thereof’ (Articles of Faith 1:5). Theological training or reading the Bible does not convey priesthood authority; rather, it comes from God according to the pattern He has established.”1
The call in 2013 came as a surprise to 45-year-old Solomone Kaumaititoya. It was not something for which he sought or to which he aspired. In fact, it caused him deep introspection and feelings of inadequacy. He would continue in his full-time career as an airline purser to financially support his family.
Kaumaititoya prayed fervently, asking, “Lord, what do you want me to do? What do you want me to say?” He also wondered, “How can I still do my job and be a stake president?”
The answers came to Kaumaitotoya in the form of scriptures and dreams that penetrated his heart deeply.
The words found in Moses 1:39, “For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man,” left an impression upon Kaumaitotoya. He said, “This was a call to do the Lord’s work. It wasn’t about me.”
Dreams came to President Kaumaitotoya every few days when he was first called. He was shown some of the events that would happen in the stake. He said, “I knew what to do because I had seen it in a dream.”
He found that his life experiences had also prepared him in ways he couldn’t foresee. President Kaumaitotoya had a very difficult childhood. As a young teenager, he climbed a hill one day to pray and to ask God why he had to go through such hard things.
He recalled, “I was really angry with God. I couldn’t understand why the Lord would let me go through such hard things. I was asking Him why?”
Kaumaitotoya didn’t understand, at first, the answer that came on the hill that day: “For your experience.”
As he served, he made sense of what “for your experience” meant, when a teary congregant walked into his office to seek his ecclesiastical counsel about a similar family situation. Afterwards, it dawned on Kaumaitotoya what the answer to his boyhood prayer meant. His path and his challenges had prepared him to minister to and serve people with understanding and love.
Lavinia Kaumaitotoya voiced her gratitude for her husband’s opportunity to serve. She said, “I have seen my husband grow and change to become a more spiritual, loving father and husband. I have seen him coming to know the Saviour.”
Latter-day Saints believe that callings or invitations to accept responsibilities or offices in the Church, are opportunities for growth and refinement. Serving the Lord and others in these volunteer roles increases love for God and for His children. It is a blessing to sacrifice time and energy for the Lord and to be called by Him to do His work.
Nine years ago, when Lavinia and Solomone Kaumaitotoya learned that it was time for a new stake president to be called, they fasted and prayed. They called upon the Lord to bless those seeking inspiration to know who the Lord wanted to lead their stake. They prayed that their stake would be blessed.
Almost as a bookend, the Kaumaitotoya’s again fasted and prayed the week before the stake conference when Solomone would be released as stake president, offering prayers of gratitude, and seeking blessings for the new stake president.
Solomone Kaumaitotoya declared, “President Adrian Yee has the authority to lead the stake now, and I sustain him. I’m ready to do whatever the Lord wants me to do.”

Equally unwelcome was the “shower” that fell on the little town of Coonamble, Australia. People dashed for cover and shops closed hurriedly as millions of beetles fell from the sky. Householders worked at top speed trying to make doors and windows beetle-proof, but it was practically impossible to keep the invaders at bay. It was two days before life in the town even began to return to normal and much longer before the beetles were completely cleared from pantries, cupboards, bedrooms, and attics.

Finally, may I share how the Lord will touch our personal lives through our own faith and prayers. A beautiful baby girl came to our son’s home only to stay with them here on earth for less than five months. The love and care given to her by her parents was deeply touching. The struggle of this infant granddaughter for life was almost more than we could bear. The night before her passing, we went to the hospital, giving what support we could to our children.
Later that evening in my son’s home, his mother and I knelt with him and prayed for guidance. When we returned to the hospital and I took my tiny little grandchild’s hand and looked at her, I felt the Savior’s touch. Into my mind came the words, as though spoken by her to me, “Don’t worry, Grandpa; I’ll be all right.” Peace came into my heart. The Master’s touch fell upon all of us. Soon thereafter she was released to go home again to her heavenly parents.

I was baptized in 2012 and attended a branch in the Ipoméia Brazil District. Since 2014, I have been really engaged in family history. It started with the invitation from Elder Neil L. Andersen of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles at RootsTech to do baptisms for my own family names. I felt really committed to do family history, knowing that if I “knocked,” it would be “opened” (see Matthew 7:7).
Now I have many more generations, pictures, documents, and, most important, more family stories, which is awesome. Having this information, I wrote a book with pictures and dates from my family history. This project helped me contact my nonmember family members and gave me the opportunity to share my testimony that families can be eternal.
This work has helped me stand in holy places, stay active in the Church, and accept the calling to serve the Lord on a mission.
I have a testimony that the work of salvation done by this Church on both sides of the veil is true and inspired by our Heavenly Father. Before my mission, I had the opportunity to do baptisms for my ancestors, and now as a missionary I have the opportunity to baptize people who are alive and want to change their lives forever.
Elder Claudio Klaus Jr., Arizona Mesa Mission

This has proven good counsel for our family. As my wife and I have made our children’s activities outside the home a matter of pondering and prayer, some of the things we had thought to be important turned out to be unnecessary. I was especially surprised when I asked our children if they wanted to participate on a basketball team with me as their coach. Their reply was, “I don’t think so,” along with, “Dad, we have a basket in the front yard, and we like when you play with us and we have games with the neighbors. We get the ball a lot more!”

by Barbara Sinclair
The clock read 6:45 A.M. on a Saturday morning. The Alaskan sun was hidden behind rain clouds for another hour as people trudged toward the chapel through the pale dawn. They separated to sing and dance and act their various parts in every nook and foyer of the building and then came together again to practice the finale. “We are royal children; we are kings!” sang the deeper, male voices. “We are royal children; we are queens!” replied the sopranos. And then together: “We are sons and daughters of our Heavenly Father. We’re a royal congregation, a royal dispensation. We’re a royal generation. Hear us sing!” And sing they did. The Anchorage Alaska North Stake completed five months of rehearsals and four successful, sold-out performances of their own original Mormon musical production A Royal Generation. Over 70 teenagers, 15 children, and 40 adults were involved in acting, singing, and dancing in the production. In addition, the Anchorage Youth Symphony Orchestra provided the musical accompaniment with a 17-piece orchestra. Church members and nonmembers encouraged, supported, and delighted each other in this experience.
The musical was the creation of three women, Joyce Cox, Barbara Sinclair, and Kaye Wallace, whose goal was to fill a need. They wanted to provide an experience that would be wholesome and that would try to answer many of the questions Mormon youth have about why it is important to choose to obey their Heavenly Father.
Each of the acts of A Royal Generation tells the story of a group of young people who had to make decisions and who found successful ways to do so. Act one concerned young adults deciding about missions, college, work, and marriage. The second act dealt with teenage dating problems, the selection of appropriate friends, and how to become independent though obedient. The final act outlined the difficulties of Mormon youth as they enter the teen years and select their directions and attitudes. When the Anchorage Youth Symphony Orchestra, most of whom are nonmembers, agreed to provide the music, the cast was thrilled. The orchestration was written by a local professional, and a 30-voice choir began to rehearse to back up the actors on stage.
The missionaries in Anchorage (who ushered at each performance) reported that many people expressed interest in the Church, and each request for more information was further adrenalin for the cast, crew, and orchestra.
Was all the time and effort, the cost and sacrifice, the sleeplessness and practice worthwhile? “My two friends who came to see me are taking the missionary discussions,” said one cast member. One look at her face was all the answer that was needed

A short time after that reunion, young Bruford Reynolds, a son, who was also a bishop, called and said, “Did you know my dad is in the hospital? He had a serious heart attack. He is in the LDS Hospital, and we wondered if you knew.” I had not known. I told him that I would like to see him but I had to catch a plane in a little over an hour. I didn’t see how I could get up to the hospital before I had to leave. He then said, “Oh, that’s okay. Dad is going to be released tomorrow to return home.”
I said, “Tell him I love him, and I’ll drop in to see him as soon as I get back.”
I hung up the phone, thought for only a moment, and decided everything else could wait. I took my briefcase, airplane tickets, and drove to the LDS Hospital to see Bruford Reynolds. As I walked through the door, our eyes met. The love between a great man and boy spanned the years. I went over to him and sat down, and we talked. Then I said, “I know you have been administered to, but would you feel all right if I knelt by your bed and offered a prayer?” I knelt down and together we prayed. When I finished, my eyes were filled with tears, as were his. Then I bent down over him and kissed him on the forehead and left.
Bruford Reynolds died an hour later. I was one of his boys, saying “farewell” to a great adviser one last time.

The youth of the Tampa Florida Stake had a great idea. They decided that every youth in the stake should have a subscription to the New Era. So they went to stake members asking for contributions to pay for the subscriptions. In return for the contributions, they pledged to finish landscaping the front of the recently completed stake center. The response from stake members was excellent, and the young men and women soon raised enough money to meet their goal. The orders were sent in, and soon every home in the stake in which a youth resided was receiving a copy of the magazine.
One day shortly before a stake conference, the young men and women of the stake showed up at the stake center and went to work landscaping. They put in turf and shrubs and soon had the place looking great. One young nonmember bicycling past thought it looked like so much fun that he stopped and joined in. As a little extra incentive, there were barbecued hot dogs for all the laborers. Because of the industry of the stake youth and the generosity of the stake membership, the stake center looks a lot better, and every youth was exposed to a potentially life-changing influence.
In the meantime, there are some benefits he does know about—increased enthusiasm on the part of the youth of the stake and sincere gratitude from the active youth who had not been able to receive the magazine because of financial or other reasons.
And of course the stake center’s looking better than ever. The results have been exciting. But of course that’s what happens when some great young men and women get a great idea and make it happen.

I conclude with an experience that has helped me to deal with unanswered questions. A few years ago, my husband and I were invited to a gathering of many experienced Church leaders. A new presiding officer had recently been called, and at the end of the meeting a very difficult and contentious question was asked. Realizing the difficulty of the question, my husband and I immediately offered up our sincere prayers to Heavenly Father on behalf of this new leader. As he came to the pulpit to respond to the question, I witnessed a change in his countenance as he stood majestically, squared his shoulders, and spoke with the power of the Lord.

His response was something like this: “Brother, I do not know the answer to your question. But I will tell you what I do know. I know that God is our Eternal Father. I know that Jesus Christ is the Savior and Redeemer of the world. I know that Joseph Smith saw God the Father and His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ, and was the instrument through which the power of the priesthood was restored to the earth. I know the Book of Mormon is true and contains the fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I know we have a living prophet today who speaks for the Lord to bless our lives. No, I do not know the answer to your question, but these things I know. The rest I take on faith. I try to live this simple statement of faith I learned years ago from Marjorie Hinckley, wife of President Gordon B. Hinckley, who said, ‘First I obey, then I understand.’”

Matthew is a very good example of Christlike love. He is very loving to his family, and he is a good example to the teachers and other students in his kindergarten class. His teacher says that he has no enemies, and he sticks up for others if he thinks that they are unfairly treated. He isn’t afraid to stand up for the right. Last year when terrorists attacked, Matthew raised his hand and said, “We need to remember that they have babies, too. Just because some of them do something bad to us doesn’t mean that we need to do something bad back.”

I used to feel the same way towards a person who had hurt me. I carried a grudge for years. In fact, I had no desire to forgive, except I hated the awful way I felt. Then I remembered that the Church teaches us to pray for those who hurt us. For lack of another solution I decided to give ita try. At firsts felt totally foolish praying for this person to be happy or do well in school, but when I was finished I could feel the grudge I’d held for so long melt away and become replaced with love for that person.
Ana Nielsen, 16King City, California

I eventually left my home in São Paulo, Brazil, to serve a mission. While serving, I saw many broken homes, but as I studied my patriarchal blessing, I found the solution for those homes: family home evening. Through teaching people about family home evening, I saw families strengthened, couples reconciled, and siblings united. In short, I saw homes transformed into little pieces of heaven.

“If this can happen to families in my mission,” I wondered, “why not to my own family?”

I was once called to the Relief Society presidency of my young single adult ward. I was excited to start. But after a few months, I felt discouraged. I couldn’t see any spiritual growth in those I was trying to minister to. My efforts to visit and befriend seemed to fall flat.

One Sunday, I felt like I was missing the spiritual gifts that help someone be good at ministering. My prayer during the sacrament that day was to feel assurance that I was capable of my calling. I felt impressed to ask for a priesthood blessing.

I met with my bishop, and as he laid his hands on my head, one of the first things he said to me was, “Heavenly Father appreciates the kindness you show to others.”

The Spirit washed over me, and I felt assured that the Lord was pleased with my efforts. I felt I did have a portion of the gifts needed to minister lovingly. I had just been measuring my failures rather than my successes.

Mark had been working for a railroad, counting freight cars, but what he really wanted to do was be a newspaperman. The city editor of the Deseret News became accustomed to the sight of the tall, slender young man who presented himself before his desk every afternoon asking about a job. Mark’s shy demeanor hid an iron determination. He approached the editor nearly every afternoon for six months asking about openings at the newspaper. His persistence paid off. The reporter assigned to cover the Church Office beat quit. Mark was offered the job at a lower salary than he was making at the railroad, but he jumped at the chance to be a reporter.

One young woman found that attending home, family, and personal enrichment meeting greatly helped her with the transition to Relief Society. “When I was in Young Women, our Relief Society invited the Laurels to attend,” says Vicky Hacking of the Pleasant Hill Ward, Orlando Florida South Stake. “They regularly had a craft class that pertained to us. Sometimes we had a class for mothers and daughters. This helped me feel like I could fit in and made me want to attend Relief Society when I turned 18.”

The Mendez family lives in a small mountain town near the city of Oaxaca, in southern Mexico. They say, “There are challenges of time, finances, and distance, but the will to do what our Savior wants us to do motivates us to overcome any obstacle.”

Gonzalo Mendez, age 15, says, “When you live in a place where there is danger, temptations can be very difficult, but with the help of prayer we don’t partake of the enticements of the world, and we stand as witnesses to a better way of life.”

The gospel has long been established in Mexico, but there are still areas where the Church is developing. Jaime Cruz, age 15, and his family are the only members of the Church in their small town in the mountains above Oaxaca City. He and his friend Gonzalo work on home-study seminary during the week. Every Saturday they travel two hours by bus to go to the nearest chapel for seminary class with other youth from their ward. Jaime shares what he learns in seminary with his classmates at school and answers their questions. Jaime’s younger brother, Alex, a deacon, is a leader among his friends. Alex says that when he asks them nicely not to use bad language or wear inappropriate clothing, they listen to what he says. Jaime and Alex both know that holding the priesthood is an honor and a responsibility. “I know that the priesthood is given to young men to glorify God’s name by serving others and preaching the gospel,” Jaime says.

During a recent visit to Mexico, Elder Neil L. Andersen of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles met with the youth from three stakes in the city of Cancun. Of his time with these youth, he said, “We saw the light in their eyes and the hope in their faces and the dreams they have. I kept thinking about what a beautiful future Mexico has.”16

“Mom, I have a problem,” Addison said. She took Mom’s hand and led her to the bathroom mirror. She pointed at her frowning reflection. “See?”
Mom bent closer, squinting at the mirror. “I only see my beautiful daughter. She could use a smile, though. Is that the problem?”
“It’s the freckles!” Addison said. She leaned over the bathroom counter. Her nose almost touched the mirror. “Whenever I look in the mirror, all I can see are freckles.” She pointed at all the soft brown dots on her cheeks and her nose. “Bailey’s freckles look cute. But mine just look funny.”
Mom put her hands on Addison’s shoulders. “I think your freckles are beautiful.”
Addison nodded, but it didn’t change the way she felt. “You’re my mom. You’re supposed to think that.” She sighed.
“Let me show you something I learned once,” Mom said. She led Addison outside to the garden. Mom picked up a small pebble and gave it to Addison. “Hold this up close to your eye. What do you see?”
Addison studied the pebble in her hand. She turned it over to see if she was missing something. “Nothing. All I can see is a rock.”
Mom smiled. “Now put it down.”
Addison tossed the rock back into the garden.
“Now what do you see?” Mom asked.
Addison looked around. “Lots of things. I see the little rock, but I also see the ground, the flowers, and the grass.”
“Exactly,” Mom said. “It’s all in how you look at it. Just like with the pebble, try not to focus only on your freckles—otherwise you miss seeing all the other great things about you, like how smart you are and how patient you are with your brothers and sisters.”
Mom picked up the pebble and pressed it into Addison’s hand. “Think of yourself as a whole garden, not just one pebble. Then you’ll be able to see yourself the way the Savior sees you, as a precious daughter of God.”
Audrey went back to the mirror. The first thing she saw was the same old freckles. She felt the pebble in her hand and took a step back. Now she could see more of her reflection. She saw a girl named Addison who liked reading, singing songs in Primary, and playing with her family. I like me, Addison thought—and that meant liking her freckles too because they were a part of her.
She felt happier as she thought of herself as a precious daughter of God. That made her smile, and when she did, she saw something by her mouth she’d never noticed before. Dimples!