Gospel Story Finder

On a warm July evening, 2,500 young Latter-day Saints from Southern California congregate next to the football stadium at the University of Redlands. It’s 20 minutes before showtime on opening night, and the youth dressed in colorful dance costumes are excited to perform their dance festival show after two years of planning and months of dance practices.
One group of youth begins to clap and chant “It’s dance time” as they cheer. All around them other participants are practicing their parts alone or with partners.
Soon they all line up to go into the stadium, and after the prayer and opening number, all 2,500 of them flow onto the field. The California Dreamin’ dance festival has just begun.
During the next two hours the youth move across the field performing dances like the waltz, cha-cha, and swing to live music performed by other youth and adults. When it’s over, the crowd cheers and the dancers hold their heads high, grateful for the opportunity to participate in this great event.
The last regional dance festival in Southern California was held in 1985 at the Rose Bowl, where more than 13,000 youth participated. Jim Nelson, the organizer of the California Dreamin’ dance festival remembers watching that 1985 festival. “I was just overwhelmed,” he recalls. “That festival just stuck in my memory.”
Years later as a member of the Riverside California Stake presidency, Brother Nelson suggested a dance festival as an idea for a multistake youth conference. He contacted other stakes in the region, and 12 of them decided to participate.
Many of the youth who participated were reluctant at first, but as they got into practices and met new friends, they were grateful for their leaders’ decisions to join in the festival.
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing,” says Carlos Rodriguez, 17, of the Sun City Ward in the Menifee California Stake. “They only do this once in many years, and it’s pretty cool for us that we get to do it.”
After so many years since the last regional dance festival, the leaders of these stakes were inspired by a 2004 letter from the First Presidency that encouraged local leaders to hold multistake events. The letter noted that cultural events gave youth “a sense of unity and opportunities to develop friendships.”
“Our prophet wanted us to do things like this, and doing this is a great chance to follow him,” says Akita Lagazo, 14, of the Banning Ward in the Yucaipa California Stake.
Kim Sandstrom, 16, of the Redhawk Ward in the Temecula California Stake thinks she knows why the Church would encourage activities like the dance festival. “I think as a whole we weren’t doing enough activities all together like this,” she says. “Church leaders realized so many people were drifting, and they thought these activities would help.”
That help has come because the young men and women who participated had their testimonies strengthened by being around other members of the Church their age.
“I was surprised to see how many people were here,” says Corbin Turner, 12, of the Rolling Ridge Ward in the Chino Stake. “It’s nice to know that it’s not just us, but there’s a bunch of other youth here with us.”
Fellow ward member Dallas Parker, 13, agrees. He says the dance festival “has helped to strengthen my testimony because I know there are more people out there than just us that are willing to live up to the standards we live up to.”
Many of the dance festival participants say they were surprised to learn there were so many members of the Church their age living so close by. Knowing they are not alone gives them the strength they need to not only learn new dances, but to accomplish other things in life.
“If you really want to achieve something and get somewhere with the standards that you have, it helps to have so many other people around you doing it,” says McKenna Lawler, 17, of the Butterfield Stage Ward in the Temecula California Stake.
Putting together a dance festival for 2,500 youth was no easy feat. It took a lot of effort from hundreds of adult volunteers who organized, chaperoned, and taught dances. It also required a lot of hard work from youth who learned new dances although many of them had no dancing experience.
Beth Houghtaling, 18, of the La Sierra Ward in the Jurupa California Stake said learning the waltz for the dance festival was “a really cool experience. Now I’ll always know how to do the waltz, and that’s something I’ll take with me.”
Because of their experience in the dance festival, the participants not only learned new dances, but also life skills that will help them in other endeavors.
“You learn to rely on others a lot,” says Samantha Fokken, 16, of the Menifee Ward in the Menifee California Stake. “If one person doesn’t show up, it could mess up the whole dance.”
Michael McKhann of the Foothill Ward in the Jurupa California Stake has learned that “hard work pays off, because you’re going to end up with something great.”
With more than 2,500 youth dancing on the field, making friends, and strengthening testimonies, the California Dreamin’ dance festival turned out to be just that: something great.

During my final two years of schooling to become a dentist, I had the privilege of being taught weekly by one of the world’s foremost maxillary-facial surgeons. His personal preparation and training had been long and intense. After receiving his dental degree, he had received additional degrees in orthodontics, oral surgery, plastic surgery, and pathology. Because of his renowned ability, he was sought after by people from many parts of the world to repair mouths and faces following traumatic accidents, or to remove destructive tumors that left faces deformed and in need of his talents at facial reconstruction.
We had weekly seminars with this noted surgeon. They were held in the medical theater, where the dental students could view a patient’s particular disorder and see the results achieved following the surgical correction. In the sessions before the treatment, the clinical and laboratory findings were presented, and the possible cause or causative agents that might have contributed to the malady were discussed.
It was interesting how often the causative agent would be one of the harmful substances that the Lord had revealed to mankind through the Prophet Joseph Smith. The fact that the Lord had revealed the Word of Wisdom—with all its important counsel on the various substances that are beneficial, as well as those that are harmful to our bodies—long before that knowledge was taught by the medical community, has been a great testimony to me of the calling of Joseph Smith as the Lord’s prophet of the Restoration.
During those lecture sessions, I could have closed my eyes and imagined that I was seated in one of our Church meetings being taught about the blessings of living the Word of Wisdom. At almost every session this noted surgeon would vigorously denounce tobacco because of its harmful effects, and we witnessed it before our very eyes.
At that time evidence identifying smoking as a major cause of lung cancer was being documented. However, little was published about tobacco as a major cause of mouth and throat cancer. There in that theater as a dental student, I saw the devastating effects of cancer of the mouth and face, which were attributed not only to smoking but also to chewing tobacco. Keeping that powerful irritant in contact with the mouth tissue resulted many times in disfiguring types of facial tumors.
“And again, tobacco is Not for the Body, neither for the belly, and is not good for man” (D&C 89:8).
Alcohol was also condemned during those sessions as an irritant to the delicate tissues of the mouth and throat, causing other types of tumors.
“And, again, strong drinks are not for the belly, but for the washing of your bodies” (D&C 89:7).
Tea and coffee were discussed, not only because of their adverse chemical effects on the body, but also because of the temperature of the drinks. The drinks were often taken so hot that, without realizing it, many individuals were drinking liquids close to the boiling temperature. Those detrimental effects were observed.
“And again, hot drinks are not for the body or belly” (D&C 89:9).
But why do these substances act as they do? Why does one person contract an infirmity, and another in the same situation and environment never have a problem?
Our renowned instructor explained that under normal conditions, the cells behave in a normal manner; however, certain factors can trigger the cells to go out of control. These cells then become fast-growing and destructive tumors that can disfigure and threaten life. The sensitivity level at which the cells respond to the triggering factor, or T-Factor as he called it, depends on the inherent nature of the individual. Some people are very sensitive, so just a small stimulus would cause the change, while other individuals appear to be more resistant. This inherent level at which the cells can be triggered to change could explain why some people live long and seemingly trouble free, while others are affected easily and early in life.
With this understanding, perhaps we might understand better the meaning of the words from the Word of Wisdom, “adapted to the capacity of the weak and the weakest of all saints” (D&C 89:3). For a person with a low level of resistance to a harmful substance, just one encounter may trigger unwanted and dangerous cellular changes.
It is interesting how far the medical community has come in vindicating the words of a prophet who revealed that great health law, the Word of Wisdom, when its principles were not very popular.
As a young dental student, I was extremely impressed with the knowledge of this outstanding maxillary-facial surgeon. He seemed to have great knowledge, and I was amazed with his skill. However, in reality, his knowledge was just a mite in comparison with the knowledge of the Great Physician—the one who healed the lepers, raised Lazarus from the dead, and made the blind to see. The Word of Wisdom is from Him, and medical science is just barely catching up.

My brain was fried! I had read one page in my history book three times without remembering one thing that was written. It was well after midnight when I rubbed my burning eyes and slammed the book shut. I wanted to do well on my final test, but the time had come to give up studying because nothing else was going into my throbbing head.
I set my history book down and picked up a different book of history. The familiar soft brown leather of my Book of Mormon felt soothing as I opened to Alma to do my nightly reading. I was not expecting to learn anything in this frame of mind, but to my complete surprise my pounding headache ceased and I felt a warm comforting peace envelop my body.
My mind was calm and alert. The words were clear and easy to understand. It was as though my kind Heavenly Father were speaking directly to me.

The mouths of “woman-driver” jokesters have been sealed, for the time being at least, by 16-year-old April Clark, an LDS student from Chico, California, who was selected by a panel, including Governor Ronald Reagan, to attend the National Youth Conference on Highway Safety held in Scottsdale, Arizona.
April was first selected to represent her high school at a conference with Governor Reagan in Los Angeles last January, where youth driving was discussed. On the basis of her performance there, and in consideration of her essay on alcoholism and driving, she was chosen to attend the national conference. There April joined with other youths from across the nation in voicing opinions on the implementation of safe driving practices.
April is a member of the Chico Second Ward in the Chico California Stake and is the pianist in her high school orchestra.

When I was in kindergarten, I had a friend who wasn’t like everybody else. She was mentally disabled, and the other kids made fun of her. I played with this girl, but some of the other kids were mean. Sometimes they even hit her.
One morning I was looking for her and couldn’t find her in the classroom, so I went outside. When I found her, she was eating grass. Some kids had told her it was salad and she should eat it. I was so mad I began to cry. I took the grass out of her mouth and made her feel better. We were good friends after that. Now she goes to a special school and I don’t see her anymore, but I will always remember her.

One day while studying the scriptures, I felt impressed to share my testimony at the upcoming fast and testimony meeting. I’d thought about doing it before, but I hadn’t since I was really young.
When fast Sunday came, I passed the sacrament and felt the impression even stronger than before. I knew it was the Spirit telling me to bear my testimony. But then thoughts began flowing into my mind, like “You’re too nervous,” “You can do it next month,” and “What will people think of you?”
I was about to give in to my doubts and remain seated when my uncle handed me a small piece of paper and whispered, “This is from your aunt.”
Written on the paper was the one-word question “Testimony?” I immediately decided to do it. When I spoke, I wasn’t even nervous because I felt the Spirit so strongly. I was also happier and felt more grateful after I went up. The Spirit really does work through other people to help us.

I remember when I had my baptismal interview with him. I was sort of nervous. I didn’t know what he was going to ask me. We said a prayer together and talked for a while about the gospel and other things. The next thing I knew, he was shaking my hand and telling me that I could be baptized. I had forgotten all about being afraid! I know that when it’s time for me to have another interview, I won’t be nervous at all.

A pioneer trek can provide teens with a small sense of what their ancestors went through to help build what they now enjoy, a chance to tackle a difficult task, and an opportunity for bonding with each other. For youth in Northern California, it was a time to think about those who came before.
Each participant who took part in the three-day, 30-mile trek chose and researched an ancestor, a departed relative, an LDS pioneer, or someone else associated with the pioneers. They wrote the person’s name on a circlet of leather and wore it around their necks to keep that person in mind as they struggled over the same rugged terrain that the LDS pioneers faced in the Sierra Nevada Mountains on the Mormon Trail.
“We are traveling on the shoulders of the people who came before us,” said Stake President Alan Fisher as the group met before starting out. “Be strong. Lead the charge against immorality. You are called to be the pioneers to lead, to guide, preparatory to the coming of the Savior.”
The participants divided into families of approximately 10 people, with wards being mixed.
Starting out in high spirits, the youth soon began to rely on each other. The first day was a 16-mile, mostly uphill, grueling hike that took 11 hours. Brooke A., 18, says, “The first day was so difficult. The other two days were so emotional and spiritual because our bodies were so weak. We had to rely on something bigger than us.”
Jared M., 14, says he walked for his ancestor, Paul Maughan. “He was a little kid who fell out of the wagon and was trampled by the wagon behind. I’m walking for him. I knew this was going to be really hard, and it was. But I was kind of excited.”
Some youth walked for ancestors who were pioneers in different parts of the world. Alex B., 17, is descended from Germans who were transplanted to Russia and then immigrated to the United States. Alex’s great-great-grandfather was one of those pioneers.
Elvis H., 16, did not have ancestors who were LDS pioneers. He chose to walk for Norton Hunter, who was important to the pioneers because he made handcarts that they pulled and pushed across hundreds of miles.
Elvis started out with enthusiasm. After the difficult first day, he was excited to reach camp, but he couldn’t sleep because he was in pain. The next day, he was taken to the hospital, where he was operated on for appendicitis. “In my situation, if we were back in pioneer days, I probably would have been one of those graves on the way.”
Alexis A., 17, says the trek was a lot harder than she expected. “I walked for my Grandpa Brodowski. He actually passed away last December. He was a pioneer in his family because he converted and was the only member in his family. In the end, everything turned out OK, and he actually started a great generation of LDS members.”
Though the youth faced many difficulties, the pioneers tackled many more. Brooke says, “We can go on hikes with our family, but to physically have to also pull a couple-hundred-pound handcart is totally different. We didn’t have to carry babies or take care of toddlers. They didn’t get to rest like we did when we got to camp. It’s just a glimpse of what their lives were. To just have this experience is one that we’ll never forget.”
Marilyn M., 15, testified to the group at the very end of the trek: “Most of you know that I really did not want to come on the trek, but I learned after coming that you will always be able to have strength. It may come through other people, but the Lord is going to give it to you. It’s just like our scripture for the year, ‘Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest’ (Joshua 1:9). That’s so powerful. It’s completely assuring that we can have the Lord with us wherever we go.”

Imagine you are visiting Africa. As you look at wild animals through your binoculars, you notice a shape coming toward you. It’s an eagle owl! As it gets closer, you hold up your arm to defend yourself. But instead of attacking, the owl gently lands on your arm, making little noises and looking at you for a moment before taking flight once more. This really happened to President Boyd K. Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. He loves animals and especially birds.

I sat with my mother-in-law on her porch one morning. She said something that was so meaningful to me. For the first time in my life, I heard the Spirit testifying to me that Heavenly Father really existed.
“When you know Heavenly Father is really there,” she said, “everything changes.”
From there, everything did change! My testimony grew as I sought to know more. Now I know when the Spirit speaks to me. I know that sweet feeling when He is near.

Malcolm Tent was still a young man when he began putting rocks in his pockets. It started one day when his boss, Mr. Gump, got angry at him for something that wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t yell back at his boss, because he might get fired. In fact, there wasn’t anything he could do except be angry inside. “But,” he thought, “I’m not going to forget this. No way.”
On the way home from the bus stop that night, he thought to himself, “I’ve got to remember how angry I am. I don’t want to forget this in the morning.” Suddenly he had an idea. There was a small rock on the sidewalk in front of him. He picked it up and said softly to himself, “I’ll keep this rock in my pocket to remind me of how unfair Mr. Gump was.”
And that’s what he did. That night he put the rock on his dresser with his keys and his comb. The next morning, when he got dressed to go to work, into his pocket went the ugly gray rock.
Read the rest online in “Pockets Full of Rocks,” by Larry A. Hiller (from Jan. 1996).

It was Gerald Brown who gave the challenge to his son to chop what seemed like way too much wood on that clear fall morning in Cardston, Alberta, Canada. Young Vic Brown would rather have been out on the Alberta prairies, running his horse through the crisp morning air, but he respected his father. He knew that he had been asked to chop more wood than a young man of his age should really be capable of chopping. But it was that special kind of father-to-son challenge—and challenge was something that Victor Lee Brown liked, something he faced head on. The wood was needed for cooking and heating in the Brown family home, and Vic knew that cutting the wood was not just a challenge, but one of those necessities for which he could share the burden of responsibility. With the smooth handle of the axe in his young hands, he began to chop. As he swung the axe, Vic could feel the warmth build inside as he worked. The thunk of the axe and the sweet smell of the newly split logs were partial payment, but the best came nearly five hours later as he split the last log and stacked it away. It was a warm and weary feeling, knowing that his task was well done. The appreciation from his father was just as warm and sincere, and it was tinged with just a bit of surprise because his young son had been able to accomplish a man-size task.
Victor L. Brown was serving as first counselor in his deacons quorum presidency at the time of the wood chopping incident, and he was a young man who accepted responsibility and loved the challenge of an unfinished task. The future would prove to hold many great challenges for the young deacon from Cardston.

My neighbor came across the street and said, “Hey, guess what we’re doing for youth conference? We get to build two barns.”
I grunted. “Two barns? Thrill city. Whoever came up with that dumb idea? Youth conferences are supposed to be fun.”
“We’ll have fun working.”
“Get real,” I told him. “I have a hard time cleaning my room.”
Maybe the adults thought I was Laman or Lemuel at the next stake dance committee meeting. I asked them, “Whatever happened to white river rafting for youth conference? Do you really expect us to get up at 5:00 A.M. on the first three days of our summer vacation?” One of the girls on the committee decided she wouldn’t go as she’d wreck her fingernails. She threatened to organize something for her own ward. None of our complaining did any good. The stake youth leaders stuck to their plan.
A fierce hailstorm pelted Duvall, Washington, the night before the conference. “Bummer, now they’ll have to cancel our exciting barn building extravaganza,” I said sarcastically.
Miraculously, the weather cleared, and I found myself standing with 180 kids in carpenter aprons, pockets full of nails and wearing a T-shirt that read, “You Love Who You Serve.”
We were given the choice of helping to build a barn/shed or a barn/house. I picked the barn/shed. It sounded easier. We banged nails. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t awful. Ward Roney, the to-be-owner of the barn/shed was a sturdy man, weathered by long hours on the tractor. He told me his favorite sound was the belch a cow makes when she’s in a warm shed eating hay. His old shed blew down in a bad storm, and the insurance wouldn’t pay to replace it. He was either brave or foolish to let a bunch of teenagers build his shed. Surely he realized we’d never finish the huge thing. If we could do it, one observer noted, it’d be an Amish barn raising by Mormons for Catholics.
Brother Beecham, the builder in charge of our shed, held the American Homes world record for the fastest home framed. The old record stood at 36 hours, and Beecham’s crew accomplished it in four. I got a kick out of watching him stroll across thin high timbers like they were sidewalks. With the construction boom in Seattle, I knew Brother Beecham was passing up a lot of money to teach us.
Normally, when I work I look at my watch every five minutes. Before I knew it, the walls were up, and we were ready for a crane to position the giant trusses of the roof. But there was no crane. Instead of machine power, we’d use muscle power, and some of the muscles were mine. The ground crew strained to position one truss. Then three of us on the roof pulled up the point with a rope as the ground crew hoisted. We cheered when the truss was securely nailed into place. What a team. Up there, 30 feet off the ground, a great sense of brotherhood developed between the “roof crew.” It was great up there. It was fun. I really developed a closeness to all of them as we worked and sweat and hammered our thumbs hour after hour.
The first day some of the girls were afraid to hit the nails on the head. By the second day they were mean. They’d developed aim and aggression in their hammering. Unfortunately, the girls used their new skills on the boys at the pie eating contest, which turned into a pie throwing war.
Meanwhile the people at the barn/house site made decent progress on the first floor. They were laboring for an LDS family of eight who’d used their savings to drill a well that turned out to be dry. The Dazey family was packed into a small trailer. They’d obtained a small, portable sawmill and cut logs into lumber. Building their barn/house was a dream come true. One of my friends who worked on the site said, “We were digging a ditch for the septic system. After a few hours, it got to where I started taking pride in the ditch and I thought the straight sides were kind of pretty. I’ve never felt that way about a ditch before.”

Let me tell you about some church workers I have known who went the extra mile. President A. Harold Goodman, of the Provo Temple presidency, once lived in Tucson, Arizona. While there, he was called to be home teacher to a man that no one had been able to visit. After attempting several times without success to find him at home, he went to the neighbors and found out that the man was working two jobs and left home every morning at 5:30 A.M. So the next morning at 5 A.M. Brother Goodman was sitting on the front porch; when the lights went on in that house, he jumped to his feet and knocked on the door. The man answered the door, and Brother Goodman said, “Good morning, I’m your home teacher.” The man was surprised to see someone so interested in him, and a warm relationship developed.

“Come over after school,” Caroline said. “I have the new CD by Alisha.” (Singer’s name has been changed.)
I gasped. “OK!” Even though Grandma was taking me shopping for my birthday on Saturday, I couldn’t wait that long. I was desperate to hear the new CD right away.
Alisha was my hero. Caroline and I pretended to be her, holding hairbrushes like microphones and singing along with her music. Sometimes Mom asked us to keep it down, but she didn’t mind our noise that much because Alisha’s lyrics were so good. Alisha was religious—I had read it in a magazine.
After school I hurried to my room and finished my homework. Alisha’s smile beamed down at me from the poster tacked above my desk.
When I finally bounded across the street to Caroline’s house, she handed me the CD cover and bubbled, “Isn’t she so pretty?”
I nodded, but my stomach felt funny. Alisha wasn’t smiling this time; her expression was more like a sneer. And I had never seen a photo of her dressed like that.
“Don’t you think her outfit is a little immodest?” I asked.
Caroline frowned. “Yeah, but maybe her church doesn’t care about stuff like that. She probably doesn’t know any better. Now listen—this is my favorite song.” She pushed the play button as I skimmed the lyrics printed in the CD jacket. I felt relieved that there weren’t any swear words.
“See? This CD is fine,” I told myself. But a dull feeling followed me home that night.
On Saturday morning I watched cartoons, waiting for Grandma to pick me up for our shopping trip. During a commercial, an announcer said that Alisha’s new music video would be shown at the end of the program!
Mom came into the family room just as the music started. “What are you watching?” She smiled and sat down.
“It’s the new Alisha video.” I tried to sound casual.
Mom’s smile disappeared as she watched Alisha dance across the screen. She looked at me and raised her eyebrows.
I squirmed. “Just because she’s wearing that outfit doesn’t mean the song is bad.”
“Are you sure?”
I wished the video would hurry and end, but it kept going. Finally I switched the TV off. Mom was silent, watching me.
“I read the lyrics,” I mumbled. “There weren’t any swear words.”
She pointed at the darkened TV screen. “But Alisha is still sending a message. You don’t have to say bad words to drive away the Spirit.”
A feeling inside told me that Mom was right. Maybe I didn’t understand what Alisha was suggesting, but the Holy Ghost knew—and His influence had left.
I trudged to my room and looked at my poster of grinning Alisha. I didn’t grin back. Why had my hero changed?
A car honked in the driveway, so I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and ran outside.
“Hi, birthday girl,” Grandma greeted me as I climbed into her van. “Where to?”
All week my decision had been made, but now I wasn’t sure. “Let me think for a second.”
Caroline’s words about Alisha popped into my head: “She probably doesn’t know any better.” It had sounded like a good excuse, but now I knew why it wasn’t—because I knew better!
The dark feeling melted away as I realized something important. I was a daughter of God, and I didn’t need another hero. Why should I admire someone who didn’t even know who she was? “I should be Alisha’s hero,” I thought with a giggle. Grandma gave me a questioning look.
“Can we go to a clothes store?” I asked. “I’ve almost outgrown my favorite blue church dress.”
“Good idea. You look really pretty in blue.”
I smiled. I looked pretty with the Spirit glowing inside too—prettier than a famous pop star could ever be.

Recently I was able to travel with more than 100 other young men and young women from the Hamburg Germany Stake to the Frankfurt Germany Temple to do baptisms for the dead and to attend a youth conference. Maybe it was because I was 13 and had unrealistic expectations, but the trip didn’t start out exactly as I had thought it would.
We stayed in a youth hostel in Bad Homburg. The hostel is a really old building with dim rooms and old furniture. It seemed that the knights of old had slept in those beds. Some of the youth in our group, who had expected the comforts of home, were disappointed by their first impressions and wanted to go home.
Our leaders tried to encourage us by reminding us that we were here to serve people who had lived on this earth before us—people who were waiting for us to be baptized for them in the temple.
Our feelings began to improve as we became involved in the activities and workshops of the conference. Each morning we had a devotional in which many of our personal questions were answered. And one evening we had a fireside with Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Seventy, a member of our Area Presidency. He encouraged us to write down the goals we wanted to work on during the coming year. We put the letters in envelopes and addressed them to ourselves. In a year, we will receive these letters. I am already working toward reaching my goals.
During the rest of the trip, I didn’t hear anything else about going home. As we became more unified in our purpose, the worldly environment as well as the just-for-fun activities became less and less important. For example, we had planned to hold a social one night, but it lost its excitement for me.
I frequently had the feeling that a lot of us had come on the temple trip actually hungry for spiritual experiences. Many of us had those righteous desires fulfilled by our experiences in the temple. Tears of gratitude were shed, and friendships became stronger. Nowhere on this earth have I felt closer to Heavenly Father than in the baptistry. How marvelous it will be when I can go to the temple to receive my own endowment and enter the celestial room! I don’t know when that will happen, but I am already looking forward to it. I now know that I want to return to the Lord’s house often.
Some of my friends who came to the conference hadn’t prepared themselves to attend the temple. They quickly realized that next time they don’t want to come just for the activities; they want to be able to enter the temple.
At our closing testimony meeting, we felt a spirit of unity. All testimony meetings when we are together as youth are wonderful, but this one was something special. Some of us shared special feelings we had experienced in the temple; others who want to come back to the Church or to make peace with their families or to feel close to Heavenly Father also shared their feelings.
At the youth conference and in the temple, we felt the Spirit of the Holy Ghost. When we returned home, we took many memories with us—not of our uncomfortable accommodations, but of the Spirit we had felt in our hearts.

I also had the privilege to go to the Nauvoo Temple and participate in baptisms for some of my ancestors. The Nauvoo Temple was beautiful inside and out. I felt a special spirit there and was grateful to the early Saints in Nauvoo. Building the temple was so important to them. They worked hard to finish the temple’s construction, so they could complete temple ordinances and make and keep sacred covenants before they were forced out of this beautiful city.
As our time to leave the city of Nauvoo drew near, I felt very sad. It was easy to imagine how difficult it was for the early Saints to leave. My family and I walked down Parley Street, following the Trail of Hope. As I looked back at the Nauvoo Temple, it stood so beautiful and brilliant on the hill. I realized that the Saints of Nauvoo had great faith to leave their beautiful homes and a temple of God. As I walked to the very edge of the Mississippi River, I recognized that many of the early Saints did not know where they were going. They had great faith that God would guide them and protect them.

“I grew up on a farm in Salt Lake Valley and learned to appreciate work. I developed a tremendous love for the outdoors, for crops and animals, and for all nature.

“We had a gentle horse that I could put the bridle on by climbing onto a wagon wheel. I was riding that horse the day I was to be baptized, and it slipped and fell in a muddy spot in the orchard. I sprained my leg when it fell, and I couldn’t be baptized until the following month.

“Our summertime baptisms were performed in the irrigation ditch across the street from our chapel; the water wasn’t sparkling clean. My father was the bishop, but he didn’t baptize me. He felt that he should pass the privilege around, so he called a priest in the ward and asked him to baptize me.”

What a choice Heidi Heistø had to make! Should she become a doctor or a professional musician? Both paths were open to her. Both were wonderful ways to serve her country and her fellowmen. Both were traditions in her family. Both seemed attainable. She has the talent in both areas.
So Heidi didn’t choose. She decided to pursue both. She had completed her high school years with a fine academic standing and was accepted into three medical schools and auditioned and was accepted into music conservatory. Soon she was spending every minute either at school or studying or practicing. After two quarters of this killer pace, she was tired and confused. She felt she was not giving either school her best. When she asked friends and relatives what she should do, the answers were of little help. Some said, “Oh, if you have the possibility of going to medical school, you must do that.” Others said, “Oh, you are so talented in music. Of course, you must do that.” Heidi was very confused.
Heidi had been taught by her mother, Karin, and her grandmother how to search out the guides in her life. She had learned in church that she had an eternal friend who will always listen. She turned to Heavenly Father in prayer. She also asked for and received a blessing from her home teacher. The blessing said that she had her agency and that she should pray about her decision. As she prayed, her answer became more clear. She should devote herself to music. Her fears about not being skilled enough lessened.
She turned to her patriarchal blessing, which encourages her to develop her musical talent. She had started with the violin at age seven even though she had been begging to start much earlier. Then her instructor suggested she change to the viola because the warm, somber tones of that instrument complimented her technique and temperament. And Heidi found she preferred the beautiful tone. Now she has chosen her course and is devoting her schooling to music.

Until just recently I would have said one life preserver is as good as another. But not anymore! What changed my mind?

Recently I attended a safety exhibit that stressed accident prevention. The water safety display intrigued me most. It included a variety of familiar pieces of lifesaving equipment. On each piece of equipment was a simple card with just one word in bold, block letters. The card read YES on the pieces of equipment that were safety approved; NO on those that were not. I was amazed. I thought all the equipment was approved and would save one’s life in an emergency. The man in charge of the display said, “Most people think all equipment is perfectly safe, but they are just taking things for granted. That’s the tragedy of it. Instead of saving you, some of this equipment could get waterlogged, weigh you down and contribute to your drowning.”

He demonstrated several pieces of equipment with the YES label and then said, “If you want to be safe and sure, use only approved equipment.”