Gospel Story Finder

About this time, I attended a fireside where Julie spoke; she talked a lot about prayer. I took her counsel to heart and decided to start praying morning and night with real sincerity. I got up earlier than before, scheduled 15 or 20 minutes just for prayer, and treated it as an appointment with the most important person in my life. I found that I could get answers and guidance in a way I never had before.

Throughout my mission in Europe, a phrase in my patriarchal blessing about preaching the gospel in power reminded me I was on the Lord’s errand, and therefore I should speak with authority. When I returned home and began searching for a wife, I knew I must find someone who would help me be worthy. After all, my patriarchal blessing made reference to the joys of a righteous posterity. Today, I am thrilled to go to the temple with my six children and their companions, and I do find joy and rejoicing in my posterity.

When I first went into high school, some of the friends I made would swear or make inappropriate jokes. I politely let all of them know that I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and would appreciate it if they would not use that language around me. They all respected my values, and if they ever let a bad word slip out, they would quickly apologize for what they said.
Brooke O., 16, New Hampshire, USA

As a deacon in Salt Lake City pioneer days, Willard R. Smith was assigned to gather the “fast” on his block. His supervisor, Brother Peter Reid, had the responsibility of seeing that the fast offerings were gathered and offerings “in kind” were distributed to the needy. He would call at Willard’s home every Friday night and tell Willard that the little express wagon was dusted, oiled, and ready for the job.
Willard would visit every home on the block, members and nonmembers alike, and offer them the opportunity to give something to the poor.
One particular Saturday Willard’s football team had scheduled a game, and he was eager to play. He knew he was supposed to gather the fast offerings but, as he later recalled, “I wanted more than anything else to play that game. I chose pleasure over duty and played football.
“Early the next morning Brother Reid knocked on our back door and asked for me. I was ashamed—I wanted to run and hide—but I faced him with my head down. All he said was, ‘Willard, do you have time to take a little walk with me?’
“I went with him first to a little frame house near the corner. He gently rapped on the door; a poor, little, thin lady answered it.
“‘Brother Reid,’ she said, ‘we didn’t get our food yesterday and we haven’t a thing in the house to eat.’
“‘I’m sorry,’ Brother Reid said, ‘but I’m sure we’ll have something for you before the close of the day.’
“We went to another door. In response to our knock a voice called for us to come in.
“We entered to find an aged man and his wife in bed. ‘Brother Reid,’ he said, ‘we are without coal, and we have to stay in bed to keep warm.’
“In another house we were greeted by a mother with her small children huddled together. The baby was crying and the other children had tear-stained faces.
“That was enough! As we parted Brother Reid said gently, ‘Willard, whenever anybody fails to do his duty, someone suffers.’
“I was about to cry—overwhelmed by my neglect of duty. He laid his hand on my shoulder and left. Those people had their food and coal early that afternoon—and I learned a most valuable lesson.” (Program Outline for Teaching Observance of the Law of the Fast, pamphlet, 1965, pp. 19–20.)

I have some sad news. Will has dropped us. That means that he doesn’t want us to teach him anymore, and he doesn’t want to join the Church. Maybe someday he’ll change his mind. I learned an important lesson from him. Elder Watts and I were trying to convince Will that what we were teaching him was true. We forgot that a person has to listen to the Spirit to know that the Church is true and that you can’t convince someone with mere words. I hope that I never forget that again.

Anna sat up in bed. The room was still dark. She strained to hear sounds of Mama fixing breakfast in the kitchen. The only thing she heard was the chirping of crickets. She had been dreaming again—the same dream she had had every night for a week: She was walking out of darkness into a brilliant light. Seated in the center of the light was a man in a white robe, surrounded by children. As she neared him, he looked at her with the kindest eyes she had ever seen. He reached for her with large, strong hands and lifted her onto his lap. Then she woke up. But the feeling of loving hands holding her lingered.
The next day Anna had a hard time keeping her mind on what her teacher was saying. Anna thought, My teacher has promised to spend her whole life serving God. Surely she must know, if anyone does. Anna raised her hand.
“Why, Anna,” her teacher responded, “I didn’t think you were even listening this morning. Can you tell the class the answer?”
“I—I didn’t know that you had asked a question,” Anna stammered.
The children around her snickered. She felt a hot flush burn her cheeks.
“Then perhaps you have a question of your own?” the teacher inquired gently.
“Yes, I do have a question. Does God have hands?”
Again the children laughed. The teacher gave them one of her stern looks. “That’s not the sort of question I expected in the middle of mathematics,” she admitted. “However, class, there is never a wrong time to ask about God.” An orderly quiet returned to the room. Turning back to Anna, she said, “The Holy Bible tells us that God is a spirit. We might say that He is like the wind or the sunshine. We feel His power and love, but He cannot be seen. He does not have hands like you or I. We are His hands as we serve one another.”
Anna had always believed everything her teacher told her. She was very kind and wise. But every time Anna tried to think of God as a spirit without a body, she remembered the hands in her dream and their loving touch. It isn’t true, she whispered to herself. He does have hands. The dream made her feel so good that she knew that it must be true.
Her mother was in the garden when she arrived home from school. “Hello, Anna,” Mama greeted her. “I’ll be finished shortly.”
Anna sat on the warm earth near the flower bed and watched silently as Mama dug up the daffodil and tulip bulbs, separated the old ones from the new, and reburied them.
“My, but you’re the quiet one this afternoon,” Mama said as she finished the last bulb and sat on her heels to survey her work. “Usually it’s talk, talk, talk when you come home from school. Is there a test coming tomorrow that’s got your tongue?”
“No, Mama, there’s no test. I’m just thinking about a dream I keep having.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Mama asked, rising to her feet and reaching for Anna’s hand.
“There’s really not much to tell,” Anna said. “I’m in darkness. Then I see a light. As I go toward it, I see a kind man in white seated among some children. When I get close to him, he reaches out and picks me up. That’s when I wake up.”
“Who do you think this man is?”
“I think it’s God, Mama,” Anna answered. “But my teacher said that God is a spirit and doesn’t have hands.” Anna took one of her mother’s hands in both of hers. “When he picks me up, his hands are just as real as yours are right now, Mama.”
Her mother was silent for a few moments. Then she placed her free hand on top of Anna’s and looked lovingly into her face. “It’s a sweet dream,” Mama said slowly, “but I’m afraid that that’s all it is. Your teacher is right—a spirit has no hands.”
“It’s more than a dream,” Anna insisted. “I know it is.”
Mama patted Anna’s hands and smiled. “If it makes you happy to think of God in that way, I don’t see any harm in it. But I wouldn’t go talking about it at school anymore, all right?”
“All right,” Anna agreed. “I won’t.”
Anna stopped having the dream, and she stopped talking about it, but she never stopped thinking about it. Sometimes when she sat between Mama and Papa in their pew at church, she closed her eyes and thought of those loving hands holding her close.
Several years later two young Americans in dark suits came to Anna’s village. She felt a strange longing to talk to them. Sometimes she followed them a short distance. But when they turned to talk to her, she always ran away shyly.
One afternoon there was a knock on the door just as Anna and her mother sat down to eat. It was the Americans.
“We’re missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” said the taller one. “We have a message of joy that we’d like to share with you and your family.”
“We’re happy with our own church, thank you,” Mama replied quickly and began to shut the door.
Anna jumped up from her chair at the table. “Please, Mama, let them come in. Just this once,” she pleaded.
“All right, Anna. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt just once,” Mama said.
The taller one introduced himself as Elder Thomas, and his companion as Elder Johnson. Anna liked to listen to them talk.
“Anna,” Elder Thomas said now, smiling at her, “I’m glad we finally got a proper introduction. Every time we’ve tried before, you’ve run away.”
Anna blushed. “I see them on my way home from school sometimes, Mama,” she explained.
“So that’s why you wanted me to let them in.”
“I only wanted to ask them about America,” said Anna. “I thought it might help me with my studies.”
“I’m glad that you’re interested in America,” Elder Thomas told her with another smile. “That’s just what we’ve come to talk to you about. You see, something very exciting happened in America—something that isn’t even in the history books.” He paused, then asked her, “How old are you, Anna?”
“Fourteen, almost,” Anna answered.
“Fourteen. That’s how old a boy named Joseph Smith was when something very special happened to him.” Elder Thomas told Anna and her mother how Joseph Smith saw God the Father and Jesus Christ in a grove of trees.
Excitement filled Anna’s heart as she listened. “You mean he actually saw God?” she asked when Elder Thomas finished.
“Yes, Anna,” he assured her. “He saw God just as plainly as you can see me at this moment.”
“Did God have hands?” she asked.
Elder Johnson started flipping through the book he carried with his Bible. “This book has what we call the Doctrine and Covenants in it,” he explained. “It contains revelations given to Joseph Smith. Listen to what it says in section 130, verse 22 [D&C 130:22]: ‘The Father has a body of flesh and bones as tangible as man’s; the Son also.’ So he does have hands, Anna. ‘Tangible’ means that you can feel them.”
“I knew it, Mama!” Anna cried. “It’s just like my dream.”
“I had forgotten the dream,” Mama said softly.
As Anna told the missionaries of the dream, she felt as though the whole room was filling with love. “I know that God has a body, just as Joseph Smith said. And someday I will see Him, and He will hold me in His hands.”

In 2012 I had completed seminary and high school, and a new world was opening in my life. The beginning of the year was great, especially the multistake youth camp. I felt blessed and protected by my Heavenly Father.
Years before, I had decided I would serve a full-time mission, so in 2012 I planned to dedicate myself to saving all the money I could. Thanks to my older sister, Sofía, I was able to quickly find a job at the company where she worked. On February 22, Sofía and I took the train to work. It was a beautiful day, but when we arrived at the destination, I heard a loud noise, and then everything went dark.
When I awoke, I was hurting and confused. Was my journey on earth coming to an end? I really wanted to be around to experience certain things, like going on a mission and having a family. So I prayed, asking Heavenly Father to give me the opportunity to live and serve a mission.
Lying in the tangled wreckage of the train, I looked around for my sister, but I couldn’t see her. Finally I heard firefighters asking everyone to stay calm, and I could feel hope in my heart. I prayed for my sister’s well-being because I didn’t know where she was. As I prayed, I felt great peace. I had to fight to endure the pain I felt, but Heavenly Father gave me the necessary strength.
After an hour I was rescued. I felt the Lord with me during that time. As I was taken to the hospital to have an operation on my leg, I couldn’t stop thinking about my sister and wondering how she was. But every time I thought about her, I felt peace.
The next day my parents informed me that Sofía had not survived the accident. That news brought the greatest pain I have ever felt. But at the same time, I felt comfort and gratitude for the sacred covenants made by my parents in the temple in sealing our family together for eternity.
When I returned home from the hospital, the Lord blessed my family through our friends and relatives, who were our angels, giving us comfort. We will always be grateful for that. Thanks to the power of the priesthood, I learned how to walk again much quicker than expected. I was able to walk normally after just a few months.
The gospel is beautiful every way you look at it. I am so grateful for temples and temple ordinances. I know that the Lord has something sacred prepared for my sister. Life without her is not easy, and it never will be, but the assurance and the peace we have is stronger than the pain we feel at her absence. We miss Sofía with all our hearts and remember her every day. Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said that heaven without your family just wouldn’t be heaven (see Between Heaven and Earth [DVD, 2005]), and I testify that is true.
God loves us, and He never leaves us alone. Isaiah 54:10 says, “My kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee.”

Kate’s stomach dropped when the soccer field came into view from the car window. She knew the Bulldogs were the best in the league. But she didn’t think this many people would show up for tryouts.
She tightened her grip on her bag when she realized tryouts must have already started. It looked like they were doing drills. The girls were weaving between cones and sprinting across the grass. She was late! Kate jumped out of the car as soon as her mom pulled up.
She only made it a few steps before she remembered something important. She needed to say thank you! She circled back. “Thanks, Mom,” she called. “Thanks for driving me and for breakfast!”
Saying thank you wasn’t a big deal to a lot of people, but it was to Kate. Her favorite scripture story was the story of the ten lepers. She couldn’t believe that out of the ten people Jesus healed, only one said thank you! She’d made it a goal ever since to always say thank you.
Remembering that story made the tight feeling she had inside loosen a little bit. At least until she joined the other girls in doing drills and saw how good they were. She couldn’t help worrying. What if everyone else is way better than me? she thought. What if I’m the worst one here?
But soon the coach divided them into teams for a practice game, and Kate stopped thinking of anything other than the black-and-white ball moving like lightning from one girl to the next.
She was breathing hard by the time the coach blew the whistle to end tryouts. “Great job, everyone,” he said. “I’ll make decisions in the next few days and let you know.”
Kate walked slowly over to her bag. Her whole body was splattered with mud. And her legs felt like slow, heavy elephant legs. Worst of all, she had no idea if she’d even come close to making the team.
She was one of the last girls to leave. “Thank you,” she said, smiling at the coach. He just gave her a short nod and turned back to his clipboard. But Kate felt a little better as she walked away. She might not make the team, but at least she’d been grateful.
Later that night, Kate was washing dishes with her dad when the phone rang.
“I think it’s the soccer coach,” Dad said, looking at the number. Kate’s heart started pounding. He took the phone to the next room. Kate stayed at the sink, trying to focus all of her attention on washing the dishes.
When she heard Dad come in a few minutes later, she kept her eyes down. “What’d he say?” she asked.
“Just that my Katie is going to be a Bulldog,” he said, nudging her shoulder.
Her heart skipped a beat. “I made the team?” she said, finally looking up. Dad nodded with a big smile. Kate did a happy dance, splashing water over both of them.
“Hey!” Dad said with a laugh. “I have something even better to tell you once you quit being a human water fountain.” Kate paused mid-twirl. What could be better than making the number-one team in the league?
“Did you thank the coach at the end of tryouts?” he asked. Kate nodded. “Well, he wanted me to tell you that he was really impressed by that. Of the 34 people who tried out, you were the only one that said thank you. He said to thank you for saying thank you.”
Dad’s smile was even bigger than before. Kate knew her own smile was just as big. Just like the story of the ten lepers, she thought. Being grateful did matter!

In 2016, Jayne Kyprianou was serving in the stake Primary presidency of the Poole Stake. After hearing Elder Kearon’s April 2016 talk, “Refuge from the Storm”1, the Primary presidency wanted to do something to help refugee children who were arriving in their area.
After a lot of prayer and discussion, they ended up hosting an online auction and a cake sale. They beat their goal of raising £500, by raising almost £1,800.
The money raised was used to buy items for educational packs for the refugee children. These would be packed by stake Primary children in a forthcoming Primary conference.
During that time, the stake public affairs directors, Brother Roger Head and Sister Moira Head, began to have contact with Unity in Vision, Bournemouth, a voluntary group founded by members of ethnic minorities.
Unity in Vision was invited to attend the stake’s Primary conference, and this was the start of a great working relationship between the Church and Unity in Vision.

“It’s important to remember we just didn’t start out cold,” David Sackett said. “Sixty-five miles is a lot of bicycling for one day. We worked for months getting in shape.” The training program required each Explorer to cycle 300 to 325 miles a month for the three months prior to the trip. Each participant had to ride at least four days a week. In addition, once each month the trainees pumped the pedals through a 75-mile practice run.
Squeezing in training around a summer job might seem like a burden, but Steve Fowler managed it well. “Kevin Jolley (the post president) and I would get up early, around 6:00 A.M., and go out on his paper route. When the route was done, we’d just keep on going. I had a late night job, so I could go home and rest before work. When it got hard practicing so much, I’d think that if I didn’t push myself, I’d run out of energy during the trip, or maybe I wouldn’t get to go. That made me work harder.”
Training sessions on bike maintenance (including instructions about which parts to carry in a seat or handlebar pack), safety and first aid (a first-aid kit was attached to each bike), and physical care during periods of strenuous exercise were also conducted throughout the summer. A local bicycle shop provided training and parts. The owner kept his shop open late for classes and worked with each boy individually. He wasn’t LDS, but he seemed eager to talk with the group members about their Church-related activities.
Andy Carlstrom described the orange T-shirts the group bought with funds raised for the trip: “We had them silk-screened with the name of our ward, post, and a map of our route on them. The color made us more visible to traffic and worked as a safety factor in our favor, and the shirts also identified the post as a group,” he said.
Nine post members made the trip, along with Herbert C. “Chuck” Carlstrom, post advisor, and Chet Harmer, a post committee man. They were joined at the third stop by the Young Men’s president, Dale Van Horn, and his wife, Beryl. In the “Sag Wagon,” as the supply van was nicknamed, rode Hank and Olga Machado and their two children, Mike and Andrea. Hank is another member of the post committee. Scott Mortensen, a recently returned missionary, accompanied them. Janine Van Horn joined the group in another truck along the route.
Brother Carlstrom, in his daily journal, narrates the contentment he reveled in one evening: “We made camp. Some of us wanted to sleep on the beach, but after a while we were forced to higher ground by the unusually high tide. … The day’s end caught most of us watching the beauty of the coast as wild fowl flew … before us. As the sun sank … , it filled the sky with all shades of reds and oranges, with slight traces of pink. … It was replaced by the moon, almost full, as it came over the mountains in back of us, painting the ocean’s surface with flickering light. It was soon joined by other heavenly bodies and God’s handiwork was displayed before us. We had just received our compensation for an afternoon of hard, uphill riding, and we all were thankful.”
Danny shared similar sentiments. “Being able to see nature and many of the things the Lord has created on the earth strengthened my testimony of the plan of salvation and the creation of the world. I never realized how much there was to see.” Bob Nelson said he felt the most impressive part of the trip was following the road along Pismo Beach. On the left mountains jutted up into the sky. On the right hundreds of feet below, ocean waves hurled themselves into the rocky shoreline, jetting streams of water high in the air. At the tops of hills, the view continued for 15 or 20 miles.
The trip’s itinerary, along with the distance covered each day, included: Monterey (70 miles), Kirk Creek south of Big Sur (65 miles), San Simeon State Beach (40 miles), Pismo Beach (51 miles), Gaviota State Beach (65 miles), McGrath State Beach (65 miles), Santa Monica (55 miles), and Anaheim (46 miles). The route from San Jose to Anaheim was part of a 1,000-mile Bicentennial bikeway that stretches from Oregon to Mexico. Many of the stops retraced—only backwards—the route taken by the founders of San Francisco, led by Juan Bautista de Anza from Mexico.
The journey offered glimpses into the past, reflecting the colonizing efforts of Spanish, Russian, and Mexican explorers. Forts, lighthouses, missions, and old mining and lumbering areas were passed on the road. The route also showcased the modern agricultural bustle of northern California.
The cyclists divided themselves into sub-groups of two or three. “It was the buddy system used all the time in Scouting,” Andy explained. “Each person is responsible for the others with him. That way no one gets lost or left alone.” Kevin noted that those who were fast or slow were paired together.
Brother Harmer said he felt the Lord had protected the group. “It’s interesting that we went about 6,500 man-miles with only one slight tumble as an accident,” he noted. Others chimed in their agreement, noting that all the flat tires occurred on level ground instead of on steep downhill grades, and most of them at the end of the day, just as the group pulled into camp.
Still, there were a few difficult moments along the way. One morning during the first part of the trip, the cyclists were enshrouded in a damp fog. They had to stop and dig deep in their gear to find jackets. One night they reached the scheduled campground and found it closed. A friendly ranger let them camp a mile away on the beach at a picnic ground.
Later, anticipating an easy trip on flat land, the riders were buffeted by strong headwinds, which slowed their progress almost as much as an uphill grade. Another time they battled two large hills, one 15 miles long and rising 1,500 feet, in temperatures that exceeded 100 degrees F. at 10:00 A.M. What was worse, the road veered inland, away from the cooling effect of the coastal waters.
“We learned to appreciate the ocean more after that,” Mike Powell said. “When we got back to the beach that night, just about everyone went swimming to cool off.”
The rough spots were worth enduring, though. “There’s not one person who went on the trip, including the leaders, with whom I don’t have something in common now,” Danny said.
The final Saturday, having put the bikes on the train the day before, the weary travelers boarded to return home. There was plenty of room to stretch out and relax, and soon they were snoozers, not bikers.
Somehow, though, when the train finally halted in San Jose and they had to remount their cycles for another seven-mile jaunt to the chapel, they seemed almost eager to be riding once again. Soon they would be home recuperating, sharing a slice of their saga with their families.

I have realized how much repentance affects everything. For example, for some months I was committing sins and not repenting of them, and I was finding it difficult to break this cycle. But after speaking with the bishop and other close friends, I was able to use the repentance process and feel so much closer to God and feel happier again. In praying hard and spending lots of time reading my scriptures, I realized that I had to change how I was living some parts of my life. I realize now how much I have grown because of this. Through this experience I was able to get much closer to my mum and dad especially.
Although I still have temptations and still commit sins, I am able to use the Savior’s Atonement to repent and review how I have done every day and try to always want to improve. I will be forever grateful for the Atonement in my life.
Billy P., age 17, Ipswich, England

The children of Eulogia Diaz and Delio Cosme Sanchez remember this about their mother’s service as branch Primary president: Back when Primary was held on weekday afternoons, Eulogia would shepherd a large group of children from her neighborhood—“our little band,” one of her daughters recalls—on the long walk to church each week. It didn’t matter whether or not they were members; if they wanted to be there and their parents allowed it, Eulogia would bring them along. She wanted as many children as possible to enjoy the blessings of Primary.

Katy skipped along the sidewalk toward the big oak tree at the corner of her street. The old tree made Nana’s house easy to find.
As usual, Nana was sitting in her living room, quietly braiding and sewing strips of bright cloth. The polished wooden floors of Nana’s house were decorated with beautiful rugs that Nana made herself.
“Hello, honey,” Nana said as Katy came in. Soon they were talking about what Nana called the “old days.” They looked at black-and-white photos together. Katy especially liked seeing the clothes and hairstyles her relatives wore when they were younger.
“Things were very different then,” Nana said with a sigh. “You know, we didn’t have cars or TV or cell phones.”
Katy couldn’t even imagine having to walk everywhere. “What did you do for fun, Nana?” Katy asked.
“We loved to sing together. We would gather around the piano in the evening and sing our favorite songs. Sometimes we’d sing ourselves hoarse! It was such a fun time.”
Nana looked off into the yard like she could rewind the years and watch them over again.
Katy sat next to the coiled rug that spilled off of Nana’s lap. She traced the careful stitches with her fingers.
“I’ve been thinking,” Nana said slowly, “how would you like to make your very own braided rug?”
Katy jumped up and clapped her hands.
“I would love to, Nana! Can we start today?”
Nana chuckled. “Well, there’s something you need to do first. Go home and gather up old clothes that we can cut into strips.”
Her eyes twinkled as she leaned toward Katy, her voice quiet as if she were sharing a secret.
“That’s what makes the rug special. Because it’s made of clothes, the rug can tell the story of your life. Each braid is like a chapter in a book about you. Looking at the fabric of an old dress can help you remember the places you wore it and what you did when you had it on.”
Katy’s eyes widened. She pointed to the rug Nana was braiding.
“Do you remember all about the cloth in this rug?”
Nana smiled. “You bet I do! This red piece is from the dress I wore when you were born. I remember pressing my nose to the glass window in the nursery to get a closer look at you. You were still all pink and wrinkly.”
Katy and Nana laughed together as Nana continued to tell Katy stories from the rug. As soon as Katy got home that night, she and Mama set aside old clothes that Katy could use.
The next day, Katy took the cloth to Nana’s house. Nana showed Katy how to cut the fabric into long strips, braid them, and sew the braids together.
Every day after school, Katy went to work on the rug at Nana’s house.
Little by little, the rug grew. As the days went by, Katy learned many of Nana’s stories by heart. Some days she was the one who told lots of stories to Nana.
One day, after adding a blue section to the rug that used to be a favorite pair of jeans, Katy rubbed the palm of her hand against the colorful braids.
“Don’t you think that rug is about done?” Nana asked, looking up from her work.
“Not yet,” Katy said with a smile. She never wanted this time with Nana to end.

In September 1875 Daniel left for Mexico with his son Wiley, James Z. Stewart, Helaman Pratt, Robert H. Smith, Ammon M. Tenney, and Anthony W. Ivins. The group went on horseback and took with them two thousand copies of their publication, “Choice Selections from the Book of Mormon.”
After several frustrating experiences dealing with local officials, they received permission in Chihuahua to hold a public meeting, and on 8 April 1876 they preached to a group of approximately five hundred persons at the first Church meeting in the interior of Mexico. After some other attempts to preach the gospel, they returned to the United States, arriving in Salt Lake City on 5 July 1876. Daniel served a second mission to Mexico in 1876–1877, again with Brother Trejo, Brother Pratt, and Brother Stewart. Also serving were Louis Garff and George Terry. Five converts were baptized.

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.

Adult leaders of the youth in the Hong Kong China Stake asked the youth council to choose their own service project. After the youth looked into their community’s needs, they decided to teach children from low-income families at a local school. Around 125 youth taught over 80 schoolchildren about developing talents, making healthy food, holding family gatherings, and creating true friendships.
“This was not just a one-time influence,” said Anita Shum, stake Young Women president. “What the youth have done with the kids could have a lasting effect.” She added that the youth now have good memories and experiences that will bless them forever.

Sam’s head felt hot. He had a runny nose. His sister Martha was sick too. Mom said Sam and Martha were too sick to go to church.
“Can we play with trucks?” Sam asked.
“Not right now,” Mom said. “We are going to have our own Primary!”
“How can I have Primary without my teacher?” Sam asked.
“Who will give a talk?” Martha asked.
“I have a plan.” Mom winked at them. “I can be the teacher. And I know someone very special who can give the talk.”
“Who?” Sam asked.
“You’ll see!” Mom said.
Sam and Martha went to Martha’s room. They set up three chairs.
“Welcome to our pretend Primary,” Mom said. Then they sang “I Am a Child of God” and said a prayer.
Martha chose more songs to sing. Mom told a story about Jesus. Sam and Martha colored pictures.
Sam liked their pretend Primary! But who was going to give the talk? There was nobody there except Sam, Martha, and Mom.
Finally Mom got her laptop. She put it on Martha’s bed.
“Now we have a special guest. President Thomas S. Monson is here to talk to us!” Mom clicked on a video on the computer screen. President Monson started telling them a story.
Sam smiled. He liked his special Primary with the prophet!

As members of the Church today, some of us may find it easy to take these glorious eternal truths for granted. They have become second nature to us. Sometimes it is helpful when we see them through the eyes of those who learn about them for the very first time. This became evident to me through a recent experience.
Last year, just prior to the rededication of the Tokyo Japan Temple, many guests not of our faith toured that temple. One such tour included a thoughtful leader from another religion. We taught our guest about Heavenly Father’s plan of happiness, Jesus Christ’s redeeming role in that plan, and the doctrine that families can be united eternally through the sealing ordinance.
At the conclusion of the tour, I invited our friend to share his feelings. In reference to the uniting of families—past, present, and future—this good man asked in all sincerity, “Do the members of your faith truly understand just how profound this doctrine is?” He added, “This may well be one of the only teachings that can unite this world that is so divided.”
What a powerful observation. This man was not moved simply by the exquisite craftsmanship of the temple but rather by the stunning and profound doctrine that families are united and sealed to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ forever.

Three years ago my family and I were sealed in the Orlando Florida Temple. The temple was as white as snow on the outside and I could feel God’s Spirit on the inside. When I was brought into the sealing room, I felt the Spirit so strong that I was trembling! It was good to have my brother there too. I felt so reverent. Now my testimony of the temple is very strong. I know that it is the house of the Lord.Keegan G., age 8, Florida

I have always loved horses. I grew up riding them. My family owned a dairy ranch where we had a few horses. When I was seven years old we moved to the city. Because we didn’t have horses there, I rode them whenever I had the chance.
When I was young, my father would take me to church. He and I were the only ones in my family who went to church. But my father died when I was just 13 years old. I continued to go to church after his death, but I didn’t have a lot of friends to go to church with, so I usually walked alone.
I was walking to church one Sunday morning soon after my father died. I passed the house of my friend whose family owned some horses. I had been riding with them before, and we had so much fun. My friend came outside to tell me that her family was about to go ride their horses and wondered if I would like to come along.
Time seemed to stand still as I tried to decide what to do. I loved riding and wanted to go with them. But I could see the church building from where I stood. As I looked at that building, a voice seemed to say to me, “Marlene, if you choose to go horseback riding this day, you will be making a wrong choice. You can go to church even if your father is not here to take you.”
I knew in my heart that going riding would not be the right choice. At that moment I said to my friend, “Thanks for the offer, but I am going to church instead.”
I have never regretted that choice. It has turned out to be one of the most significant decisions I have made in my life. It’s the good choices we make that keep us on the straight and narrow path. From that moment until this day, I can count on one hand the number of times I have missed church.
Diligent church attendance is important to me, so important that wild horses can’t keep me away. I love to associate with my ward family and find joy in serving in my calling. I am so thankful for the blessings I have received from attending my meetings and from having the gospel in my life. I am grateful to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and for the guidance of the Holy Ghost.