Gospel Story Finder

One of my good and bright friends left the Church for a time. He recently wrote to me of his return: “Initially, I wanted the Book of Mormon to be proven to me historically, geographically, linguistically, and culturally. But when I changed my focus to what it teaches about the gospel of Jesus Christ and His saving mission, I began to gain a testimony of its truthfulness. One day while reading the Book of Mormon in my room, I paused, knelt down, and gave a heartfelt prayer and felt resoundingly that Heavenly Father whispered to my spirit that the Church and the Book of Mormon were definitely true. My three-and-a-half-year period of reinvestigating the Church led me back wholeheartedly and convincingly to its truthfulness.”

One Sunday, my Primary teacher taught us about faith. She helped us plant sunflower seeds. I took mine home and planted them in the flowerbed. It took a long time, but we got a lot of rain and sun, and the sunflowers grew taller than our house! Our faith can grow big like the sunflowers. We need to pray, read the scriptures, and keep the commandments. My mom says that if I give my faith the things it needs, it will grow tall and strong like my sunflowers.

Eric Blanchard, a two-time state wrestling champion from St. Anthony, Idaho, is back wrestling again after nearly losing his life in an accidental shooting incident. Although Eric came perilously close to death and the bullet still remains lodged in his back, he followed doctor’s instructions and worked hard to get back into shape. Doctors determined that it was too dangerous to remove the bullet but that it would not affect his recovery if left where it was.
Eric succeeded in his third season and was nearly as strong as ever. He barely lost in overtime in his attempt for his third state championship. Eric is a priest in the Chester Ward, Ashton Idaho Stake.

Sitting on the stand of the St. George (Utah) Tabernacle, waiting for her performance to begin, Sheena Rosander couldn’t help remembering the year before when she had been waiting to perform at a high school talent show.
“It was one of the only times I really had the jitters before a performance,” says Sheena. “I followed a rock group and knew immediately that the classical song I loved to play on the piano wasn’t really what kids wanted to hear. I depend so much on the Spirit to help me play, and that Spirit just wasn’t there.”
But this night, things were different. Thankfully, the Spirit was in abundance as her six functioning fingers flew over the keyboard of the grand piano creating music, the kind that brings a lump to the throat.
Sheena Rosander, 18, from Hurricane, Utah, was born with what some people consider a disability. But to Sheena, having only a partial thumb and no fingers on her left hand is a gift. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have all 10 fingers, like how much easier keyboarding would be,” says Sheena. “But I usually just find a way to go around it. My mom wanted me to peel potatoes, and I was really struggling with that potato peeler. So I decided when I have my own family I’ll just have baked potatoes. There’s always a way to do things.”
And that’s pretty much how Sheena has been able to enjoy her favorite activities, like playing and teaching tennis, playing the violin, teaching piano lessons, and competing at performing-arts festivals.
In fact, she’s used her good attitude as a springboard to propel her into positive social situations. On her first day of kindergarten, when Sheena proudly displayed her hand at “show and tell,” one child told her it looked like a Cabbage Patch doll’s hand. Delighted, she added several Cabbage Patch dolls to her already thriving collection. Her favorite had red hair and blue eyes, just like Sheena.
That kind of confidence comes naturally. Even before she was born, her mother, Toni, decided all her children would learn to play piano. Sheena began lessons at age five.
“She was determined to play the piano,” recalls her teacher, Tammy Drake. “Her hand was never an obstacle. She would compensate with her right hand to achieve a full sound. Then one day, she began playing with her left hand, using her thumb and pinky stub. Sheena has shown all of us a new kind of courage and determination. Some listeners never even know about her hand. She plays beautifully.”
But piano wasn’t Sheena’s only interest. She developed a love for sports, particularly basketball. Just before ninth-grade tryouts, however, Sheena experienced what she would term the greatest challenge of her life so far. She developed immune thrombocytopenic purpura, or ITP, a blood disorder which causes bleeding under the skin. Her disease prevented her from playing basketball since even an accidental bump on her head could cause a major brain hemorrhage.
After a year of transfusions, cortisone, and other medications, Sheena faced the decision of whether or not to have her spleen removed. As she had done since she was a small girl, Sheena turned to the Lord in prayer for a confirmation of her decision. After her surgery, she continued to worry. What if the ITP returned and kept her from her normal activities?
“I kept asking Heavenly Father if I was done with it,” she says, “but I never felt like I was getting an answer. Then my friend Liesel Bennion and I went to EFY [Especially for Youth] at BYU—Idaho. I had a wonderful counselor there who gave a devotional about the woman who had suffered with an issue of blood for 12 years and touched the hem of the Savior’s garment. When she read the words, ‘Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace’ (Luke 8:48) and sang a song called ‘Close Enough to Touch,’ my heart started pounding and tears sprang to my eyes. I knew at that moment I was done with the ITP. In a way I felt I also had touched the Savior’s hem by exercising faith in having the surgery.”
Not long after, the two friends decided to enter the Miss Hurricane pageant. This was not new to Sheena. She had tried out the previous year and had won the talent award but bombed the interview. So, in her typical style, she practiced with anyone who would interview her and tried out again. “I was so excited when I got first attendant, with talent and interview awards. And I was so happy for Leisel to be chosen queen. We’ve had a lot of fun together.”
As a senior at Hurricane High, Sheena loves performing, competing with the high school tennis team, and attending to her many responsibilities as mayor of the Hurricane Youth City Council. She loves family outings with her four siblings, going to school games, yelling and cheering, and watching old movies.
But while Sheena loves average teenage activities, she is far above average in her desire to serve and be obedient to the Lord. As Brother Stewart Wilson, her seminary teacher, says, “Sheena doesn’t lead with charisma. She leads with consistency. She lets her choices speak for themselves and carries the Spirit with her wherever she goes.”
Sheena doesn’t really see herself as a leader, just someone who knows what she wants to do and does it. “I’m really comfortable just slipping out of a room if I don’t like the movie my friends and I are watching,” says Sheena. “But I usually find most of the group out on the trampoline with me long before the movie is over.”
Friends, family, and fun are all a major part of Sheena’s life. But the most important aspects to her are faith and character. “Everyone has some kind of handicap and some distinct talent,” she says. “I think the best advice is to count your blessings and find something you can do well.
“Then remember,” she adds, “nothing is impossible. If you run into an obstacle, find a way to either go through it or around it. Then bring the Spirit into your life so you can put your trust and faith in the Lord to help you.”

This was my first year at a new high school. I thought I’d been getting along all right, making friends and fitting in. Then one day in history class I overheard a group of people talking—right in front of me—about something they were going to do. They were talking about going to an activity that all the Mormons wouldn’t be able to come to because it was on a Sunday and because of the things they were going to be doing. I was friends with them, but they didn’t invite me.
It got me thinking. At first I was hurt that I wasn’t even considered to be part of the group, but then I thought about it. Did I really want to be invited when they would be doing something “Mormons” wouldn’t do? And after thinking about it for a bit more, I decided they unintentionally gave me a compliment. I’ve been living my life in such a way that I’m an example, and they knew—without my verbalizing it—what I stood for.

Sacrament Meeting—My family attended the branch’s sacrament meeting today. After the meeting, I went with the elders to my parents’ home for a missionary lesson. After the first discussion Elder Johnson tried to make an appointment to come again and teach my family.
“How about right now?” Mom asked.
So the second lesson was given. Dad had to leave then to do the farm chores. Mom quickly prepared a meal, and about an hour later Dad came back in and ate, and the third lesson was given. Three in one night!
July 27—Tonight I baptized my family. It is three months to the day since I joined the Church. Our family is finally united. As I brought Mom up out of the water, she embraced me and shed tears of joy. We have received life’s greatest blessings.

Wise parents see in every need of others a way to bring blessings into the lives of their sons and daughters. Three children recently carried containers holding a delicious dinner to our front door. Their parents knew that we needed help, and they included their children in the opportunity to serve us.
The parents blessed our family by their generous service. By their choice to let their children participate in the giving, they extended blessings to their future grandchildren. The smiles of the children as they left our home made me confident that will happen. They will tell their children of the joy they felt giving kindly service for the Lord. I remember that feeling of quiet satisfaction from childhood as I pulled weeds for a neighbor at my father’s invitation. Whenever I am invited to be a giver, I remember and believe the lyrics “Sweet is the work, my God, my King.”
I know those lyrics were written to describe the joy that comes from worshipping the Lord on the Sabbath. But those children with the food at our door were feeling on a weekday the joy of doing the Lord’s work. And their parents saw the opportunity to do good and spread joy over generations.

Unfortunately, many of us fail to recognize what the Lord wants us to be. A sister wrote to me recently, telling of some events that led her to realize how much her Heavenly Father loved her and had blessed her. She said:
“I have had very low self-esteem and have not felt ‘good enough’ to have a close relationship with [my Father in Heaven]. This has kept me self-centered and unable to serve as effectively as I could. During the last few months I have felt a yearning desire within me, an urgency, if you will, to draw nearer to my Father in Heaven. Lately I have felt his arm around me and his great love extending to me—a beautiful feeling of acceptance. With this have come many gifts: more patience, more self-control, [more understanding]. I know this is the Holy Ghost teaching me.
“I have learned when priorities are in order and I prepare personally each day with prayer, scripture study, and physical care, I am happier and a more profitable servant.”

One Sunday in July, I could feel the Spirit in the room as I passed the sacrament. After passing to the people in the back, I checked to make sure everyone had a chance to receive it. I then reverently walked over to the line of the other young men who had finished passing the sacrament.

As the other young men lined up, I looked around and saw a family on the far side of the chapel. I realized that they had not received the sacrament yet. It seemed too late, because the priests stood up and the line started to move. As the young men in front of me took the sacrament, all I could think about was that family and how they didn’t receive the sacrament.

I felt a great urge to break from the line and pass to that family. I knew it was the Holy Ghost telling me to do it, so I left the line and walked down the aisle toward the family near the back. As I grew closer, I felt warmth overcome me. I looked up and saw the family smiling at me. I could feel their appreciation for not forgetting them.

I passed the sacrament to the family even though I felt like everyone in the congregation was looking at me. I could almost sense the Holy Ghost whispering, “Good job.” You don’t need words to know that someone truly cares and appreciates your love and respect for them. All you need to do is a good deed.

During this time I met Kelly, who would become my wife. When I met her, my depression lifted and I was able to see myself as a child of God. Kelly was not a member of the Church when we started dating. We were eventually married, and after some time I baptized her. It was a special and sacred moment for me.
After our first child, Rafael, was born, we brought him to church to receive a blessing. My parents attended the blessing. It was the first time they ever went to church. From then on they started to hear the missionary lessons in their home. I eventually had the privilege to baptize my brothers and my parents.
It is funny because my father was very systematic about it. He said, “My son, when are you going to baptize me?” When he was baptized, I raised him out of the water and he hugged me. It was such an extraordinary moment in my life!

A few years ago, I learned to index during a large indexing activity organized at the Les Abymes meetinghouse, led in part by Sabrina Bastien. It didn’t particularly captivate me as I found the documents difficult to read. Another time, I participated in an indexing activity on a Sunday with young people who had been called to serve as temple and family history consultants. I then began trying to do it alone at home, calling Sister Bastien for help when problems arose, and reading explanations on FamilySearch. I started indexing every Sunday afternoon. It became a way for me to help my family with their genealogy, as we are all part of our Heavenly Father’s family. If I find it easy to locate my close family, it’s because others have done work for me.
So, it’s my turn to return the favor. I noticed that by asking for help from our Heavenly Father, I could read certain writing more easily. This allowed me to have patience. During the first major COVID-19 lockdown, I indexed every day. And then every Sunday. I am happy to be able to help, through indexing, in bringing families together on both sides of the veil.
I used to index, but I stopped. This challenge encouraged me to resume service. [I found that] as soon as I engage in indexing, the Lord helps me stay calm, and patient, and I see difficult-to-decipher names light up. I feel joy in doing this service and want to do it over and over again. Thank you for the encouragement. Some of you (consultants) have the gift of motivating others to go further and contribute to this work. I am blessed and grateful to have you as brothers and sisters in Christ.

“Serve and Volley” was the theme for the Laurel/priest activity held on a sunny day in the Modesto California Region. What would you expect but a service project with a little volleyball afterwards?
But it was much more than that. First they met to clean, clear, and revamp a recreational county park. Nearly 200 people did so much work the park ranger who supervised got all choked up.
Everyone then went back to the stake center for a potato bar/sundae bar dinner, awards ceremony, and video of the day’s work. After that they headed to a recreation center for the promised volleyball, golf, Ping-Pong, etc. It was all in a day’s work and a night’s play. The kids loved it!

Jared was excited when Mom and Dad brought his new brother home from the hospital. Jared liked to play with his sister, Catherine, but he was glad that now he’d have a brother to play games with.
When he first saw David, Jared could hardly believe his eyes—the baby was so tiny and wiggly! Jared had forgotten that he and Catherine had been little and wiggly too.
“How long will it be until David can play ball with me?” Jared asked his mother.
“It will be a few years yet,” she answered. “But don’t worry—there will be plenty of things to do with your brother before then.”
David grew bigger every day. He and Jared did find a lot of things to do together. They often played computer games. David would watch and clap his hands as Jared’s “good guys” chased the “bad guys” across the monitor. Sometimes they played army men. David would sit in his swing, chewing a soldier, while Jared made battle sounds with the other soldiers. Sometimes Jared would lie down with David to help him go to sleep. Jared was always very careful because David was still small.
Whenever it was Jared’s turn to say the family prayer, he thanked Heavenly Father for David, and he asked Him to bless and protect David.
When fall came, Jared started first grade. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go to school, because he would miss playing with David.
Mom knew how much Jared would miss David, so when Jared came home from school, David would be sitting in front of the picture window, looking out. As soon as he saw his big brother, David would wave his arms excitedly.
One day Mom took David to Dr. Karp. David was always having earaches, and she and Dad wanted the doctor to find out why. When he finished looking at David, Dr. Karp told Mom and Dad to take David to the hospital for some tests. To help him discover what was wrong with David, Dr. Karp called Dr. Filopovich. She was a special kind of doctor who helped children fight diseases.
Before taking David to the hospital, Dad and their home teacher laid their hands on David’s head. Dad blessed David that he would get better.
David was in the children’s hospital about two weeks. The house was very quiet with David gone. Everyone missed him, especially Jared.
Dr. Filopovich went to the hospital and looked at David. She asked Mom some questions, then took a little bit of blood from David’s arm. She took the blood back to her office and looked at it under a microscope. When she had finished studying David’s blood, Dr. Filopovich met with Dr. Karp and Mom and Dad. “David’s blood is not strong,” she told them. “It can’t fight off the diseases that attack him. He needs to have a bone marrow transplant. We need to find someone who has blood just like David’s, only stronger, and take some bone marrow from that person and give it to David.”
Before family prayer that night Jared asked, “Will David die if we can’t find someone who has the right kind of blood?”
Dad put his arm around Jared. “David won’t die,” he assured Jared. “I know this because the Lord witnessed it to me when I gave David his blessing. Maybe one of us has the right kind of blood.”
Jared felt better. But before going to bed, he prayed, “Please, Heavenly Father, make my blood be the same as David’s.”
The next day Jared and Catherine and Mom and Dad went to Dr. Filopovich’s office. She took a little bit of blood from each of them. A short time later she called to say that both Jared and Catherine had the same kind of blood that David did.
Mom and Dad talked to Jared. They told him that they thought Catherine was too young to understand David’s problem and that she would be too frightened to give David some of her bone marrow. They asked Jared if he would be willing to give some of his to David.
“Will it hurt?” Jared asked.
“Yes, it will,” Mom told him. “I wish I could tell you it won’t, but I think you’d rather I told you the truth.”
Jared watched David crawl across the rug. He said, “I want to help David. I asked Heavenly Father to make my blood be the same as David’s, and it is. So I’ll do it.”
Jared loved his baby brother, but as the time to go to the hospital came closer, he was as frightened as he was brave. Mom and Dad hugged him, and Dad gave Jared a father’s blessing in which he told Jared how proud he and Mom and Heavenly Father were of him. He blessed Jared with peace of mind and promised him that it wouldn’t hurt very long.
David was put in a special room at the hospital. Jared and Mom and Dad could just walk in and visit David, but the doctors and nurses had to wear masks and gowns before they could go into his room.
Jared’s room was in a different part of the hospital. Although he had two roommates, he had a dresser all his own, and he even had his own television. The first night he was there, he had wheelchair races with his roommates, and they watched a movie on a huge television down the hall.
When Jared went to bed, though, it was too quiet. His roommates quickly fell asleep, the nurses were busy in other rooms, and his parents had gone home. Jared was lonely and scared until he remembered the blessing Dad had given him. “I bless you with peace of mind,” his father had said. Jared had a contented feeling and soon fell fast asleep.
The next morning Jared got to ride in a wheelchair to the operating room. Dr. Filopovich was waiting for him there. She smiled at Jared and told him that he would go to sleep for a while. “When you wake up,” she said, “it will be all over.”
Jared breathed into a funny thing shaped like a cup and was soon asleep. While he slept, doctors took some bone marrow from his hipbone and sent it up to David’s room, where another doctor put it into David’s bloodstream. David’s heart would send it to different areas in his body, and in a few months David would have stronger blood.
Even before Jared woke up, his body knew that some bone marrow was missing. It began to make some more. In just a few days his body would make enough marrow to replace all that Jared had given to David.
When Jared awoke, Mom and Dad were there, smiling at him. A nurse gave him a Popsicle. Jared asked, “Is it over? Does David have some of my blood now?”
“Yes, it’s all over,” Dad said. “You were very brave and good, and we are very proud of you.”
Jared stayed in the hospital one more night. He hurt a little, but not as much as he’d thought he would. Dr. Karp called Jared on the telephone and told him that the transplant had gone well. He told Jared, “I think David will soon be well, thanks to you!”
Mom took Jared to see David the next day before going home.
“How long will David have to stay here?” Jared asked.
“Probably a few more months,” Mom answered, “until his blood is stronger. But you can come and visit him on weekends.”
Jared held David for a while. “Mom,” he asked, “do you think David knows what I did for him?”
“No, Jared, he doesn’t. But David knows that you love him. When he grows up, he’ll realize just how great that love is.”
The next day was Sunday. Jared’s Primary teacher gave a lesson about the Savior. She told the class that Jesus loved them and that He had suffered for them because He loved them. She smiled and added that they would understand His love better when they grew up.
Jared smiled back at her and said, “I think I understand already. I really do.”

Missionary work has been an important part of Sister Rinne’s life in many ways, although she did not at first expect that it would be. “When I returned home from the baptismal service, I thought, ‘Well, I have done the right thing in joining this church, but I will never tell anyone.’ But when we arrived home, Heikki changed his clothes and ran to tell all the neighbors that we were Mormons now,” Sister Rinne remembers, smiling.

The past six months have gone by quickly as the work of the Church has moved forward unhindered. It was my privilege just over a month ago to dedicate the Gilbert Arizona Temple, a magnificent structure. The evening before the dedication, a cultural event was held at the nearby Discovery Park. Twelve thousand young people performed a 90-minute program. The dancing, the singing, and the musical performances were outstanding.
This area had been experiencing an especially dry season, and I believe many prayers had been sent heavenward over the preceding several weeks for much-needed rain. Unfortunately, it came just before the performance and stayed for the entire production! Despite the fact that the youth were soaked through with the rain and chilled from the cool temperature, we all felt the Spirit of the Lord. The theme of the program, “Live True to the Faith”—think about that: “Live True to the Faith”—was portrayed magnificently by smiling and enthusiastic young men and young women. Despite the cold and the rain, this was a faith-filled and inspiring experience these young people will ever treasure and will be relating to their children and grandchildren in the years to come.

James H., age 11, from Salt Lake City, Utah, likes to learn about history, use computers, and search for clues like a detective. That’s why he got really excited when his parents invited the ward’s family history consultant to teach James’s family about the Church’s online family history program. It’s called Family Tree, and James loves using it to search through his family history chart to find the green arrows next to the names of ancestors who weren’t baptized or sealed to their families.
Since that day, James has found more than 80 of his ancestors’ names. It feels good to know he can help his ancestors by sending their names to the temple. “Someone up in heaven is thinking, ‘They finally found me!’” he says.
When I find a new ancestor who needs to have temple ordinances done, I print out the ancestor’s name so the temple work can be done.
I taught my little brother, William, how to type in names so he can help search for our ancestors online.
My mom and dad and older brother and sister have helped me by doing baptisms for the dead and other ordinances in the temple for the ancestors I find.

I remember that as a young executive many years ago, part of my job involved attending dinners sponsored by different business groups. Each dinner was always preceded by a social hour. I felt very uncomfortable in these settings. After the first one or two dinners, I started coming late to miss the social hour. My boss thought this was not a good practice because I was missing valuable time associating with business leaders. Still, I felt awkward visiting in groups where I was the only one without a drink in my hand. I kept wondering what to do with my hands. You can always put one hand in your pocket, but you look a little foolish with both of them there. I tried holding a glass of 7-Up, but it had the appearance of an alcoholic beverage.

Finally I went over to the bartender and asked him if he had any drink that was distinctively different in appearance from an alcoholic beverage. He went into the kitchen and came back with a half gallon of milk and poured me a glass. Pouring a glass of milk at a cocktail hour was a unique event. It seemed to attract the attention of everyone, and I became the target of a lot of jesting. It embarrassed me at first, until I discovered that I was meeting more business leaders than I had at any previous gathering. I found that I did not have to violate Church standards to become a viable, contributing member of my chosen profession. It was more the case that success came because I did adhere to my values.

It soon became a practice at the social hours in that community to always have a carton of milk on the bar. I was amazed, as time passed, by how many of my associates were joining me for a glass of milk during the hour that we spent together. I found, just as Daniel did, that being different in the world brought some interesting reactions, but obedience to the Lord’s law is always associated with His blessings. Isn’t that the message of the revelation contained in the Doctrine and Covenants?

I was in the middle of the Forbidden City in Beijing, China. Only minutes before, I had been surrounded by friends and teachers, but I was suddenly completely and utterly alone.
I immediately understood the danger I was in. A solitary 15-year-old American stood out like a sore thumb in the bustling palace museum. I had come to China with other high school classmates on a school-sponsored trip, and our teachers and guides had warned us numerous times about the possible dangers of touring a foreign country if we were not careful.
I walked around the area, pushing through crowds of tourists—Chinese and foreigner alike—and stood on my tiptoes trying to look for the matching red and white shirts that each member of our group wore. But I saw nothing. Somehow, my group had slipped away without me and I had no idea what direction they had gone in. I sat down and watched the entrances and exits. Ten minutes passed, then 30, then 45. No one from my group appeared.
Someone grabbed my hand. I looked up to see a short woman with slightly crazed eyes and long fingernails. She pulled at my hand. “Follow me,” she said in broken English. “Pretty girl, follow me.”
I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. “Get back,” I yelled, pulling my hand back. Before she could grab it again, I raced through an exit and entered another section of the city.
I ran for a while until I was even more lost than before. I sat on a nearby step, away from the groups of people, and started to cry. I knew a few words of Chinese but certainly not enough to get directions back to our hotel, somewhere on the other side of the sprawling city of Beijing. And at this point, I was not even sure where an exit was.
Amid tears, I started to pray. I admitted that I had been foolish to wander from the group, even for a moment, and I pleaded with Heavenly Father to help me find a way back to my group.
I stood up and walked back in the general direction I had come from. I did not receive any immediate revelation—and I was unsure of what that revelation would sound or feel like even if I did receive it. I had felt the Spirit before, a warm feeling after serving someone or hearing a talk in church, but I had never felt anything specific, certainly not directions on where to go. I started walking forward uncertainly, continuing the prayer in my heart.
I finally reached a fork in the road. I started to go right when I heard a voice whisper, “Stay.”
The voice was so soft that I almost disregarded it completely as one of my own thoughts. But it contained a sureness that I certainly didn’t feel at the moment. “Sit on that bench,” the voice said. I looked up and saw a bench in the middle of the fork. I went over and sat down. Only three minutes later, a familiar white and red shirt appeared in the crowd and waved toward me. It was our tour guide for the day.
I jumped up from the bench I was sitting on. I was so happy I almost hugged the woman.
“We have been looking for you for an hour!” she said. “Where were you?”
As she led me back to my group, I explained to her where I had been, starting with my separation from the group and ending with my decision to sit down instead of going right at the fork in the road.
“You’re very lucky,” she said. “If you had gone right at that turn, it would have taken you in the opposite direction from the rest of the group. The city is so big, I would never have been able to find you.”
I left China a few weeks later, managing to not get lost again during the trip, but I have thought back many times to the moment when I heard the voice of the Spirit whisper to me. It was not the kind of prompting I had received before, but it is what the Lord knew I needed in order to avoid going down a wrong path. I also recognized how easy it would have been to ignore it if I had not been listening.
Since that day, I have heard the Spirit many times in many different ways, warning me of both physical and spiritual danger. Sometimes I have seen the consequences of following or disobeying that voice like I did that first day in the Forbidden City. More often, I haven’t been able to see the results. But I have learned that when I humble myself and am willing to listen, the Lord will help me recognize the Spirit’s promptings and He will guide me back to where I need to be. With Him, I am never alone.

As a matter of fact, attempts to keep illness or other problems secret can sometimes backfire. One elder heard by accident that his mother had undergone heart surgery. A frantic, long-distance phone call from England partially reassured him that she was progressing satisfactorily. But the remaining year of his mission was edged with anxiety. As he put it, “If they had leveled with me, I could have relaxed when the crisis was past, but this way, I was never sure how things really were at home.”

One young woman decided after reading her patriarchal blessing that she wanted to do something grand to help the poor and needy. After unsuccessfully trying to give aid to some people she saw on the street, she thought she’d failed. Then she got home and found her brother crying because he’d been teased at school. After taking him out for ice cream and listening to his troubles, she learned a lesson. “The poor are just as likely to be in your home as on the streets,” she says. “There are all sorts of needy people in the world—those who need food and shelter, of course—but also those who need love, counsel, and encouragement.” (Read the rest of her story at lds.org/go/needyNE11.)