Gospel Story Finder

I still had a long way to go to gain a better understanding of Heavenly Father’s concern for His children, but from time to time in my life I had other spiritual experiences. I tried to read all the books about God that I could find. I went to many different churches. But not until about eighteen years later, when the elders of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints knocked on my door, did I begin to really understand. I came to know our Heavenly Father, how to make a covenant with Him, and how to receive the right to speak with Him always. I learned to feel accepted and welcomed by Him.

The story is told how Brigham Young, driving through a community, saw a man building a house and simply told him to double the thickness of his walls. Accepting President Young as a prophet, the man changed his plans and doubled the walls. Shortly afterward a flood came through that town, resulting in much destruction, but this man’s walls stood. While putting the roof on his house, he was heard singing, “We thank thee, O God, for a prophet!”

I joined the Church when I was 16. Soon after, I became seriously ill and missed a month of school.
While I was sick, I decided to catch up on school assignments and read my history textbook. I was so excited when I saw there was a whole chapter on the Latter-day Saint contribution to the westward expansion of the United States!
But as I read, my heart sank. The history of my new church was twisted and ugly according to the textbook. How was I ever going to be tested on these falsehoods?
I finally went back to school, even though I still felt weak. Towards the end of my history class, my teacher suddenly stopped and asked, “Is anyone in this class a Mormon?”
The world seemed to stop. My heart pounded. I raised my hand and proclaimed to the entire class that I was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“So, Wendy, have you read the chapter about the Mormons?” the teacher asked. I told him I had. “Is it accurate?” I said it was not. “We’re not going to discuss this chapter in class,” he said. “Every Mormon student I’ve ever had has said the textbook is incorrect.” He then suggested that if anyone wanted to know the true history of the Church, they could ask me!
Although I may have been weak physically, with the support and guidance of the Holy Ghost, I was stronger than I ever imagined I could be.
Wendy Z., California, USA

My husband and I have two children: our daughter, Florence, and son, Frederick Monson. My father-in-law has lived with us for the past eight years. His name is Anthony and he is 88 years old. He is humble, patient, kind, and loving. He is a very faithful Roman Catholic who never misses his prayers or going to church. Be it winter, summer, or raining, attending church is important for him. He gets around by himself and besides church, he likes to go out to the park or to buy candy because he likes sweets.
Both my husband and I work so he is home alone for part of the day. On December 5, 2017, my husband and I were at our office. Around 3 p.m. I called my children to check up on their grandfather. When they told me that he had not yet returned from the sweet shop I felt that he may have become lost. I immediately informed my husband and he and his sister began searching for their father. I joined in the search after work. We searched all the first day and night, but we could not find him. The next morning, we went to the police station and filed a missing person report. The second day we posted his picture on Facebook and WhatsApp. We kept searching until Saturday, December 9. We were very worried. Our friends said that they would pray for his safe return. Some said they would put his name on the prayer roll at the temple. Others searched with us. We really felt the love of God through them.
My family kept praying and I continued my prayer and scripture study. All the scriptures I read were really uplifting and gave me more strength, confidence, faith, and hope that he would be back. An especially meaningful one was Doctrine & Covenants 90:24:
“Seek ye diligently, pray always, and be believing, and all things shall work together for your good, if ye walk uprightly and remember the covenant wherewith ye have covenanted one with another.”
We kept searching all the hospitals and drainage ditches from 6 a.m. until midnight. We did not think about food and the children were even left alone. Our only focus was to find my father-in-law. We printed a notice and posted it everywhere.
On Saturday, December 9, my husband went to search again, and I started to wash my father-in-law’s clothes and arrange his bed to prepare everything for him to come home and sleep comfortably. That evening, fasting, we started our search again. Satan was working very hard to discourage us, but we did not give up.
Following leads we received from other people, our search that night took us to a dark and dangerous place. Around 11:30 p.m., while we were searching in this area, showing my father-in-law’s picture to the people, a person approached and after enquiring asked us to leave immediately. He was the Inspector of Police of Nehru Place. We obeyed and left that place and, following another lead, started to walk towards the Kalka Mandir, another dark and dangerous area. We felt uncomfortable there, so we immediately left, reaching home around 1:00 a.m. on Sunday, December 10.
At 1:30 a.m. we knelt down and prayed with tears in our eyes. We decided that we would not search as it was Sunday. Our Heavenly Father wanted us to go to church and partake of the sacrament peacefully. He answered our prayer as we felt peace in our heart. Just as we finished our prayer, we received a call from one of my former classmates, telling me that she had seen an old man. She asked me to confirm that it was he through a video call. It was amazing that the person she had on the video was my father-in-law! We were astonished and once again we thanked our Heavenly Father, for He understood our intention and answered our prayer. My friend brought him to my home on the same night. It was truly a miracle that in a city of over 18 million people, my friend was able to find him.
We have seen miracles happen in our family through prayer, following the scriptures, and searching with faith. Though we have experienced many temptations, discouragements, and disappointments, we hold fast to God’s promise: “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened” (3 Nephi 14:7–8; Matthew 7:7–8). I know that we found my father-in-law through the love of our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ with the help of his angels, our friends.

I want to tell you about my little brother, Hans. When he was born, he didn’t seem to like being here on earth. He would wake up in the night, and when he saw that he was still here, he would start crying. He would only stop when Mom fed him. After he got older, he seemed to feel better about being here.
We slept in the same room, and at bedtime we always played games. He would never just go to sleep. After Mom kissed us goodnight and shut the door, Hans would jump up, hold onto the rail of his crib, and begin to bounce. He would wave and yell at me until we both were laughing hard. I really liked sharing a bedroom with him, even if he was a baby.
Some people think that babies are a bother, but Hans wasn’t. He was good. He would watch us, then try to do everything we did. He used to go around the house picking up little pieces of rubbish that no one else saw. Then he would run to the wastebasket and throw them in. He always tried to help everybody. He was smart about it too. One day he decided to help Mom. He climbed up onto the stove when he was alone in the kitchen. Later we found him sitting beside the burners stirring a pot full of cold water. When we came in, he clapped his hands and said, “Oh, see!”
Hans was very adventurous. He wasn’t afraid of anything. His best trick was to climb up our big bookcase. He could get nearly to the ceiling. Mom always lifted him down, but I thought that he was better than a mountain climber.
Once I did something terrible to him without meaning to. He was coming up the stairs, steadying himself with his hand on the wall. When he got to the door at the top, his hand poked through where the door hinge is. I didn’t see him, and I slammed the door on his finger. He screamed and screamed. Mom and Dad rushed him to the hospital because the end of his finger was badly cut and he needed stitches. I felt awful. But when he came back home, he gave me a hug, so I knew that he still loved me. He was really brave and hardly ever cried about his finger, and he wasn’t even two years old! I felt awfully proud of him.
When the weather was nice, we used to go for walks together down the street. He really liked to play in the vacant field, running on his little legs along the paths. He liked the flowers and bugs and birds too.
I guess that we had the most fun one day when Mom went visiting teaching. She left Daddy to take care of us. He was busy in his study, so we looked for something fun to do until Mom got home. Hans opened a cupboard and took out a big can of flour. He took off the lid and showed it to me. It looked like something fun to play with, so we took it into the living room, where he poured it all onto the carpet. Then we rubbed it in big circles. If felt soft and nice. Hans rubbed a white circle around one of his eyes. He looked so funny! Mom came home right after that, and she couldn’t get mad when she saw how funny he looked. She just got her camera and took a picture of us.
Now I’m really glad that she took the picture. It helps me to look at it. It helps me to tell you about Hans too. You see, he got really sick last month—Mom said it was meningitis. Even though the doctor and the bishop came to help, he died, and I don’t ever want to forget him.
We all cried when Hans died. Mom and Dad hugged each other and cried. They hugged me too. Our neighbors and friends came over, and they cried. I’m glad that our friends were there. Mom and Dad had to be gone sometimes, getting things ready to bury Hans. It helped to talk to my friends. It helped to just sit on the porch with them beside me.
Mom decided to make a little white suit for Hans to wear for his funeral. She got the pants made, but when she had trouble with the jacket, one of her friends took it and finished sewing it. She and Dad went to the mortuary to put the suit on Hans.
After Mom and Dad came back, we all dressed in our Sunday clothes. My grandmas and grandpas were there too. We went together to the mortuary to see Hans. The stake president, who is also the mortician, was there, and he put his arm around me. That helped me feel better.
I never saw anyone dead before. I knew that Hans would be different, that he wouldn’t be able to talk to me. I wondered how I would feel when I saw him.
Mom held my hand, and we went into a beautiful room with lots of flowers. There was quiet music playing. The room was just for our family so that we could be alone with Hans.
Hans was lying in a casket. It looked like a little white bed. His eyes were closed. He looked different, but he looked nice.
Hans’s funeral was in the morning. All my cousins and aunts and uncles came. Our friends and neighbors were there, too, and we sang “I Know My Father Lives.” Mom and Dad played a song for Hans on the piano and then talked a lot about Jesus.
Hans is buried near a little pine tree. I like that tree. Dad says that we can watch it grow. It will remind us that Hans is really alive, too, only with Jesus.
I know that Hans will always be my brother because Mom and Dad were married in the temple. I didn’t know how important that was until Hans died. Now I do.
Sometimes we go to the cemetery to put flowers on Hans’s grave. I told Mom that it’s kind of like the park where we had our family reunion. She hugged me tightly and told me that when Resurrection Day comes, the good people who have been buried will meet with everybody that they love, and it will be the biggest family reunion that you ever saw. I can hardly wait to hug Hans when he is resurrected. I miss him a lot, but I know that he is happy because he lives with Heavenly Father and Jesus.
When I die, I won’t be afraid, because I will see Jesus, and I will be with Hans again. I am going to try to be as good as Hans was so that we can live together some day.
When I take the sacrament, I think about how Jesus was resurrected so that we can be too. I love Jesus for doing that. Even though Hans is dead, because of Jesus I can feel happy.

“I think this is the best we’ve ever done,” said Johnny Apel, 16. And that’s a pretty big compliment. After all, this is a stake that sponsors memorable activities at the end of each seminary year that correspond with the book of scriptures they’ve been studying. They’ve put on things like a “Nephite Festival” that was their version of a county fair in the land of Bountiful, complete with a realistically simulated earthquake and storm, followed by a beautiful talk on Third Nephi.
Then there was the big “Wander in the Wilderness,” where the seminary students were taken to a desolate area, divided by their birth months into twelve “tribes,” and required to complete 12 Old Testament-oriented tasks like rescuing Daniel from the lion’s den, building a tower of Babel, and building an ark. At the end, they were treated to a big feast, similar to that of the Passover.
With activities like that, rating the “Come unto Christ” youth conference number one really says something.
What made the event such a big success? The location wasn’t out of the ordinary—much of the program was held in the chapel, and the workshops were held in church classrooms. Meals were brought in and either eaten outside in the Texas sunshine or inside, picnic-style, on blankets on the gym floor.
So it was the theme itself and the attitudes of the kids involved that made this such a big event. “What could be more important than to come unto Christ?” said Tisha Perry, age 16. “I hoped that this activity would help me to get closer to him, and it did.”
You could actually see some changes taking place right before your eyes as the day wore on. “I really don’t know where it started, but lately I’ve had a real problem with listening to what my parents say and following the counsel they give me,” Greg Harkrider, 16, told the entire group. “I just want them to know that I’m glad that I listened to what they said and came today to learn more about Christ. That’s what I need to be here for. I’ll try to be better because of this.”
And responses from the 30 or so non-LDS kids who did come were positive as well. Rick Moore and Eric Bradshaw, two 16-year-olds who met on the set of a movie they were both involved in, came to the conference because the subject was of great interest to them both. Rick is LDS. Eric is Presbyterian. “Pretty much everything that’s been said here today I’m 100 percent with,” said Eric. “This is really encouraging for me.”
Darla Marburger, 16, who came with her LDS friend Milli Egger, 14, had a response similar to Eric’s. “This has really helped me to grow spiritually,” she said.
“I’m just glad someone has taken the time to teach us more about Christ,” added Milli. “It’s important to learn now, when we’re young and impressionable, so we have a better chance of turning out right.”
Richard Cromwell, a very popular high school teacher and an ordained Methodist minister, also paid big compliments to the event. “This is great!” he said. “I’m all for anything that helps bring the kids closer to Christ.”
The spirit of the day was not diminished when the lights in the gym went down low and the music was turned up for the dance that finished off the conference. A stake music committee, made up mostly of youth, had previously selected all the music that would be played, making sure it was fun to dance to, yet didn’t contain inappropriate lyrics.
While the music played inside, the youth on the organizing committee wandered outside for a breather. They inevitably began discussing the big subject of the day. “Being a part of all this really makes me want to work harder to be better—to be more like Jesus,” said Mark Davies, 17. “That would be so great.”
“We heard a lot about Christ today, and his spirit was here,” added Anna. “That’s exactly what we wanted.”
“Oh yes,” Thomasyn agreed. “Even though it didn’t turn out exactly like we’d planned at first, it was a big success.”
There it was. Still another big to add to the Texas list.

I have seen many acts of kindness working with these people and not just from the volunteers. I like to help at the cake stand at the soup kitchen, and it’s always tricky with to open the bags we put the cakes in while wearing rubber gloves. One of the homeless men saw me struggling and came to help. Now, every week, he always opens the paper bags for us. When I asked him why he helps, he said, “I just wanted to do something.” That struck a chord with me. He just wanted to help in any way he could and being able to help someone made him feel needed and useful. On my mission, I will try to have that drive. I will try to be like Jesus Christ in any way I can.

My legs felt shaky and there was an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach as we approached the door. I was sure that I was going to faint as my companion told me that this was “my” door.
No, I wasn’t a new missionary. I was a fifteen-year-old home teacher climbing the stairs to the apartment of Sister Rice, a widow living in our ward. Don Gabbott, my high priest companion, was to teach me a great lesson that night about caring for those too sick or too old to be engaged in Church activity.
Brother Gabbott had given me a topic to present to the five families assigned us. I was prepared with some notes on a paper, but I was frightened and inexperienced. I was not sure how a young priesthood holder behaved in the presence of a high priest.
We knocked on the door, but there was no immediate response. I was about to suggest that no one was home when the door slowly opened. From behind it appeared the frail figure of an aged sister, uncertain of what she’d find at her door. She smiled as she recognized Brother Gabbott. We were invited in and asked to take a seat.
After a short greeting, Brother Gabbott looked at me as if to say, “Okay, Robert, it’s time to give our message.” The feeling in my stomach got worse as I began to speak. I cannot recall what I said, but as I looked up from my notes, I saw the tear-stained cheeks of that sweet, sensitive sister. She expressed her gratitude for the presence of priesthood bearers in her home.
I was speechless. What had I done? What could I do? Fortunately, Brother Gabbott helped me by bearing his testimony and asking if there were any needs in the home. There were.
Sister Rice said that she had not been feeling well and asked that she be remembered as we offered our prayer before leaving. She then turned to me and asked if I would offer that prayer. By that time, I was so overcome by the spirit of the occasion that the request numbed me. I was surprised that I was asked to pray when someone older and more experienced and trusted was present. Automatically, I consented and offered a benediction upon that home teaching visit, asking that a special blessing of health and strength be given to that faithful sister whom I barely knew but quickly came to love and respect.
Twenty-five years have passed since my introduction to home teaching in Sister Rice’s home, and she has long since died. But I cannot pass that house without thinking about the experience provided by Brother Gabbott and a faithful sister who knew the appropriateness of calling upon an obedient high priest and an insecure, frightened teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood.

I turned to the scriptures for comfort the night before my first day of high school. My family had moved from Utah to Australia just two weeks before, and I felt nervous about starting school halfway through the year in a place and culture that was new to me. The uniform and strict rules against makeup and jewelry made me feel even more unsettled. Then I read Doctrine and Covenants 84:81–84:
“Therefore, take ye no thought for the morrow, for what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink, or wherewithal ye shall be clothed.
“For, consider the lilies of the field, how they grow, they toil not, neither do they spin; and the kingdoms of the world, in all their glory, are not arrayed like one of these.
“For your Father, who is in heaven, knoweth that you have need of all these things.
“Therefore, let the morrow take thought for the things of itself.”
It was like Heavenly Father was speaking directly to me. My fears about the coming day were calmed as I realized that whether I wore what I wanted was not important and that Heavenly Father was aware of my specific situation and would help me through it. I know Heavenly Father speaks to us through the scriptures, and we can always find comfort and guidance when we turn to them.

“They kicked me out of school because I’m a Mormon,” says seven-year-old Raúl. That may seem like a big price for one so young to pay. But Raúl doesn’t think so—even though he was happy at the school, had lots of friends there, and loved his teacher.
Raúl Ever Aquino Gonzales was a first grader in a religious school in a small town in Paraguay—and was the only Latter-day Saint in the school. One day, he says, “people started criticizing the Church without knowing anything about it. They were saying things that aren’t so.” Raúl—a likable, outgoing boy—felt he couldn’t just sit there without saying anything. “I tried to defend the Church by telling them they were wrong,” he explains. “I was expelled because I wouldn’t conform.”
Now Raúl, still a first grader, is enrolled in a different school. “I’ve already told the people at the new school that I’m a Mormon,” he says. And with a grin, he adds: “But they didn’t kick me out!” His best friend in his new class is also a member of the Church.
Each day, all the boys must wear long-sleeved white shirts and ties to school. Today after school, as Raúl sits on his front porch talking about his experiences, he is still wearing his white shirt and tie. He looks and sounds very much like a missionary—even though he is still too young to have been baptized!
“Ever since I met the missionaries,” Raúl says, “I’ve wanted to be like them. I’ve never hidden the fact that I’m a Mormon.”
“He talks about the Church all the time, everywhere he goes,” says his mother, María. “When he visits the neighbors, he talks about the Church. And he is very open with people—he’s not afraid to talk to anybody.
“Once he saw a neighbor drinking alcohol,” she says, “and he politely told the man that he shouldn’t be drinking it.” (Raúl is trying to learn to be tactful and courteous while defending the principles of the gospel.)
In his new school, the students say a prayer each morning. “But they don’t pray the way we do,” Raúl says. “They say a memorized prayer, and sometimes they pray to the Virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus.
“Once I asked if I could offer the prayer. I folded my arms, shut my eyes, and bowed my head—and I prayed to Heavenly Father. I thanked him for the beautiful day and for my new school, where I can study peacefully. I asked him to bless my teacher and all of my classmates. I prayed especially that one boy who was sick would be able to return soon. Then I closed in the name of Jesus Christ.”
After school each day, Raúl changes out of his white shirt and tie and puts on other clothes. Some days, he helps his mother in her small store. Other days, he stays home to help care for his three-year-old brother, Luis Angel, and his one-year-old sister, Luciana Andrea.
He loves to climb the trees in his yard. He helps his brother and sister pick up nuts that have fallen to the ground; then he cracks the shells on a rock, and they all enjoy the treat. Later, they play with their pet rabbits and feed the pig out in the back yard.
Inside, Raúl helps tidy up the house. On the walls are pictures of his parents wearing white clothes, standing in front of the São Paulo Temple. The pictures were taken just a month and a half earlier, when his parents took the sixteen-hour bus ride to the temple to be sealed. Brother and Sister Aquino hope to be able to take Raúl, Luis Angel, and Luciana with them to be sealed as a family the next time they go to the temple.
Raúl and his family live in the small Paraguayan town of Piquete Cué. In the nearby town of Limpie, there is a beautiful LDS meetinghouse where a ward meets. But each Sunday, Raúl and his family pass the Limpie Ward’s meetinghouse on their two-hour bus ride to the town of Villa Hayes. There they attend a tiny branch that meets in a small rented house. Why don’t they go to the ward that is so much closer to their home?
“Because the branch in Villa Hayes needs us,” says Raúl’s father, Luciano, who works as an industrial engineer. “There are so few members in the branch that they really need us there.” Brother Aquino is first counselor in the branch presidency. Sister Aquino has been Relief Society president and now teaches a Primary class.
Raúl attends Primary and loves to learn more about the Book of Mormon. “I don’t know how to read it yet,” he says. “But my mamá and papá read it to me.”
Raúl often bears his testimony in sacrament meeting. He told the branch members recently that he’d had a headache—but when he prayed, it went away.
He also remembers the time his dad was seriously sick. Raúl’s mother thought he was going to die. She rode a bus to the missionaries’ house to ask them to give him a blessing. They weren’t home, so she left them a message. When they arrived several hours later, Raúl’s father was so sick he could hardly talk. The missionaries gave him a blessing—and within half an hour, he was up and feeling much better.
“I really want my eight birthday to come so I can be baptized,” Raúl says. “And I want to be a missionary.”
Raúl already is a missionary. “I know that the Book of Mormon and the Church of Jesus Christ are true,” he says. “I would tell children all over the world to try to love everyone—especially the children that I see in the streets who don’t have a home. They make me cry a lot. Be thankful to Heavenly Father and also to our parents. Love the Church of Jesus Christ, take the sacrament, and always pray.”
Then Raúl climbs up his favorite tree. From his leafy perch, he waves good-bye.

“I miss everyone in our branch,” Olga said sadly. She and her family were the only ones in Sunday School again.
Olga’s sister, Wilma, closed her scriptures. “I miss them too.” Mom and Grandma nodded.
Olga wanted to cry. When she was baptized, 60 people came to church each week! But then World War II started. Because of the war, all of the missionaries in Brazil had to go home. Without them, there weren’t enough priesthood holders to have regular Church meetings. They couldn’t bless the sacrament or baptize people.
The branch stopped renting the church building. Church members met in people’s houses to study the scriptures instead. And one by one, they all started going to other churches.
When the war ended, Olga thought the branch would have church meetings again. But there weren’t enough people. So Olga and her family kept meeting alone on Sunday.
“I miss singing with everyone,” Olga said. “And I miss the children who used to come to church.”
“Me too,” said Grandma.
Over the next few days, Olga thought hard about what to do. She prayed for help. “Heavenly Father, please help us know how to make our branch strong again.”
One day Olga had an idea. She went outside. Two girls were playing under a tree.
“Olá!” Olga said. “Would you like to come to my church’s class for children tonight? We’ll learn about Jesus, sing songs, and have fun.”
The girls looked at each other. “Sure,” one of them said.
“Great! If your parents say you can come, meet me here later. We can walk to the class together.”
Olga waved goodbye and walked down the street. She found more children playing futebol (soccer). Olga invited them all.
Some of the children had come to church before. They were excited to come again! Other kids didn’t want to come. But Olga let them all know they were welcome.
Later that night, Olga gathered the children who said they would come, along with their parents. They all walked together to her house.
Mom and Grandma taught the parents in one room. Olga and Wilma taught the children in another. Olga sang songs with them. Wilma told scripture stories.
Olga felt happy as she walked the children home. “Thank you for coming,” she said. “See you next week!”
Their branch was small, but Olga knew it would grow again. And she wanted to plan next week’s lesson right away!

Another example of honesty that has strengthened my testimony is my sister Jennifer. I have watched her treat the law of tithing with great reverence. Every time she earns an income, she goes to the bishop’s office and fills out a slip to pay her tithing. She never takes it lightly.
I believe this habit helped prepare her for her mission. As a missionary, she was known for doing things the right way. Even though she faced challenges and sometimes felt misunderstood—which is something many of us experience when we always try to do the right thing—she nevertheless remained focused and true. Her example has strengthened my own resolve.

Dear Buddy,
Your letter arrived just as Elder Watts and I were leaving for a baptismal service. Elder Watts is the district leader, which means that he’s in charge of all eight elders and two sisters in our district.
Anyway, the person being baptized was a seventy-year-old man named Richard Rockwell. He’s a very special person who was taught by Sister Adams and Sister South. Elder Watts conducted the baptismal service, Sister South gave a talk on baptism, Sister Adams gave one on the gift of the Holy Ghost, and I got to perform the baptism!
After I said the baptismal prayer, I glanced at Brother Rockwell. His eyes were closed, but his whole face was smiling, and tears trickled down his cheeks. I lowered him into the water completely and brought him back up, and for a few seconds we just stood there smiling at each other. Then he hugged me hard and whispered, “Thank you, Elder!” I felt like I was about to burst with joy.
After we changed into dry clothes, Elder Watts asked me to bear my testimony. Before I met Brother Rockwell, the sisters had told us that he had been studying the Bible most of his life but had never joined a church because he couldn’t find any that matched the one that Christ had organized. When the sisters taught him that ours does and that it has apostles and prophets and all the other offices, he became excited. And the more that they taught him, the more excited he became.
Well, in my testimony, I told about your letter and my model airplane. I said that if it’s going to fly, it needs all the right pieces in all the right places, just the way it’s shown in the blueprint that Grandpa and I used when we put it together. Then I explained that it’s the same with the Church. It has to have all the right pieces in all the right places, just the way it is shown in the scriptures.
Brother Rockwell beamed a big smile at me as I was talking. So thanks for your letter, Buddy. And don’t worry about my model airplane. I’m not angry. A little sad, maybe, but I know that accidents happen—especially when things get wild.
Give Rusty a big hug for me and tell him that I expect him to try harder to keep his human friends calm.
Love,Reed

Dear brothers and sisters, we have received wonderful teachings from our leaders during these last two days. I testify to you that if we strive to apply these inspired and timely teachings in our lives, the Lord, through His grace, will help each of us carry our cross and make our burdens light.1
While in the vicinity of Caesarea Philippi, the Savior revealed to His disciples what He would suffer at the hands of the elders, chief priests, and scribes in Jerusalem. He specifically taught them about His death and glorious Resurrection.2 At that point in time, His disciples did not completely understand His divine mission on earth. Peter himself, when he heard what the Savior had said, took Him aside and rebuked Him, saying, “Be it far from thee, Lord: this shall not be unto thee.”3
To help His disciples to understand that devotion to His work includes submission and suffering, the Savior emphatically declared:
“If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.
“For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.
“For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?”4
Through this declaration, the Savior emphasized that all those who are willing to follow Him need to deny themselves and control their desires, appetites, and passions, sacrificing everything, even life itself if necessary, being entirely submissive to the will of the Father—just as He did.5 This is, in fact, the price to be paid for the salvation of a soul. Jesus purposely and metaphorically used the symbol of a cross to help His disciples better understand what sacrifice and devotion to the Lord’s cause would truly mean. The image of a cross was well known among His disciples and the inhabitants of the Roman Empire because Romans forced victims of crucifixion to publicly carry their own cross or crossbeam to the place where their execution would occur.6
It was only after the Savior’s Resurrection that the disciples’ minds were opened to understand all that had been written about Him7 and what would be required of them from that time on.8
In the same fashion, all of us, brothers and sisters, need to open our minds and our hearts in order to more fully understand the relevance of taking upon ourselves our crosses and following Him. We learn through the scriptures that those who wish to take their cross upon themselves love Jesus Christ in such a way that they deny themselves of all ungodliness and of every worldly lust and keep His commandments.9
Our determination to cast off all that is contrary to God’s will and to sacrifice all we are asked to give and to strive to follow His teachings will help us to endure in the path of Jesus Christ’s gospel—even in the face of tribulation, the weakness of our souls, or the social pressure and worldly philosophies that oppose His teachings.
For example, for those who have not yet found an eternal companion and may be feeling lonely and hopeless, or for those who have been divorced and feel abandoned and forgotten, I assure you that accepting the Savior’s invitation of taking upon yourselves your crosses and following Him means continuing with faith on the Lord’s path, maintaining a pattern of dignity, and not indulging in worldly habits that will eventually take away our hope in God’s love and mercy.
The same principles apply to those of you who are experiencing same-gender attraction and feel discouraged and helpless. And maybe for this reason some of you are feeling that the gospel of Jesus Christ is not for you anymore. If that is the case, I want to assure you that there is always hope in God the Father and in His plan of happiness, in Jesus Christ and His atoning sacrifice, and in living Their loving commandments. In His perfect wisdom, power, justice, and mercy, the Lord may seal us His, that we may be brought to His presence and have everlasting salvation, if we are steadfast and immovable in keeping the commandments10 and are always abounding in good works.11
To those who have committed serious sins, accepting this same invitation means, among other things, to humble yourself before God, to counsel with appropriate Church leaders, and to repent and forsake your sins. This process will also bless all who are fighting against debilitating addictions, including opioids, drugs, alcohol, and pornography. Taking these steps brings you closer to the Savior, who can ultimately free you from guilt, sorrow, and spiritual and physical slavery. Additionally, you may also desire to seek the support of your family, friends, and competent medical and counseling professionals.
Please never give up after subsequent failures and consider yourself incapable of abandoning sins and overcoming addiction. You cannot afford to stop trying and thereafter continue in weakness and sin! Always strive to do your best, manifesting through your works the desire to cleanse the inner vessel, as taught by the Savior.12 Sometimes solutions to certain challenges come after months and months of continuous effort. The promise found in the Book of Mormon that “it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do,”13 is applicable in these circumstances. Please remember that the Savior’s gift of grace “is not necessarily limited in time to ‘after’ all we can do. We may receive His grace before, during, and after the time when we expend our own efforts.”14
I testify that as we continually strive to overcome our challenges, God will bless us with the gifts of faith to be healed and of the working of miracles.15 He will do for us what we are not capable of doing for ourselves.
Additionally, for those who feel bitter, angry, offended, or chained to sorrows for something you feel is undeserved, to take up one’s cross and follow the Savior means to strive to lay aside these feelings and turn to the Lord so He can free us from this state of mind and help us to find peace. Unfortunately, if we hold on to these negative feelings and emotions, we may find ourselves living without the influence of the Lord’s Spirit in our lives. We cannot repent for other people, but we can forgive them—by refusing to be held hostages by those who have harmed us.16
The scriptures teach that there is a way out of these situations—by inviting our Savior to help us to replace our stony hearts with new hearts.17 For this to happen, we need to come before the Lord with our weaknesses18 and implore His help and forgiveness,19 especially during the sacred moment when we partake of the sacrament each Sunday. May we choose to seek His help and take an important and difficult step by forgiving those who have hurt us so that our wounds may begin to heal. I promise you that in your doing so, your nights will be full of the relief that comes from a mind at peace with the Lord.
While in Liberty Jail in 1839, the Prophet Joseph Smith wrote an epistle to Church members containing prophecies that are so very applicable in all these circumstances and situations. He wrote, “All thrones and dominions, principalities and powers, shall be revealed and set forth upon all who have endured valiantly for the gospel of Jesus Christ.”20 Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, those who have taken upon themselves the name of the Savior, trusting in His promises and persevering to the end, will be saved21 and may dwell with God in a state of never-ending happiness.22
We all face adverse circumstances in our lives that make us feel sad, helpless, hopeless, and sometimes even weakened. Some of these feelings may lead us to question the Lord: “Why am I experiencing these situations?” or “Why are my expectations not met? After all, I am doing everything in my power to carry my cross and follow the Savior!”
My dear friends, we must remember that taking our cross upon ourselves includes being humble and trusting in God and in His infinite wisdom. We must acknowledge that He is aware of each of us and of our needs. It is also necessary to accept the fact that the Lord’s timing is different than ours. Sometimes we seek for a blessing and set a time limit for the Lord to fulfill it. We cannot condition our faithfulness to Him by imposing upon Him a deadline for the answers to our desires. When we do this, we resemble the skeptical Nephites from ancient times, who mocked their brothers and sisters by saying that the time was past for the fulfillment of the words spoken by Samuel the Lamanite, creating confusion among those who believed.23 We need to trust the Lord enough to be still and know that He is God, that He knows all things, and that He is aware of each of us.24
I recently had the opportunity to minister to a widowed sister named Franca Calamassi, who is suffering from a debilitating illness. Sister Calamassi was the first member of her family to join the restored Church of Jesus Christ. Although her husband was never baptized, he consented to meet with the missionaries and often attended Church meetings. Despite these circumstances, Sister Calamassi remained faithful and raised her four children in the gospel of Jesus Christ. A year following her husband’s passing, Sister Calamassi took her children to the temple, and they participated in sacred ordinances and were sealed together as a family. The promises associated with these ordinances brought her much hope, joy, and happiness that helped her carry on in life.
When the first symptoms of the disease began to appear, her bishop gave her a blessing. At that time she told her bishop that she was ready to accept the Lord’s will, expressing her faith to be healed as well as her faith to endure her illness to the end.
During my visit, while holding Sister Calamassi’s hand and looking into her eyes, I saw an angelic glow emanating from her countenance—reflecting her confidence in God’s plan and her perfect brightness of hope in the Father’s love and plan for her.25 I felt her firm determination to endure in her faith until the end by taking up her cross, despite the challenges she was facing. This sister’s life is a testimony of Christ, a statement of her faith and devotion to Him.
Brothers and sisters, I want to testify to you that taking upon us our cross and following the Savior requires us to follow His example and strive to become like Him,26 patiently facing the circumstances of life, denying and despising the appetites of the natural man, and waiting on the Lord. The Psalmist wrote:
“Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord.”27
“He is our help and our shield.”28
I testify to you that following our Master’s footsteps and waiting on Him who is the ultimate healer of our lives will provide rest to our souls and make our burdens easy and light.29 Of these things I testify in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

One of the fundamental things my parents taught me was the importance of prayer. They taught me that if there was ever anything wrong in my life or if I ever needed help, I should always pray. One of the first times I remember following their advice was when I was about six years old.

That year for Christmas I had been thrilled to find a toy bow and arrow under the Christmas tree. This toy was exactly what I had wanted. I spent many hours aiming the arrow straight up into the air and seeing how high I could get it to fly.

One day I shot the arrow into the air, then lost sight of it. I had no idea where it landed. I spent a very long time looking for it, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. I remember how bad I felt. I thought at the time that this was one of the saddest things that had ever happened to me.

Remembering what my parents had taught me, I decided to ask Heavenly Father for help. I knelt by the trunk of an apple tree and told Him what had happened. I asked Him for help in finding the arrow. When I opened my eyes, the arrow was next to me, sticking in the ground. That made a great impression on me, and I have relied heavily since then on the power of prayer.

The Irish wind moaned outside the cottage and whipped the cold rain against the windowpanes. Inside, Patrick McEntree was warm. The branch members were gathered for sacrament meeting around the flickering peat fire on the hearth. Yet Patrick was warmed not only by the fire but also by the words of the tall, young missionary with the American accent. “I know the gospel is true,” he said, “and I’m grateful to serve the Lord here in western Ireland.”
Patrick knew the gospel was true too. Suddenly he couldn’t wait until he was nineteen to be a missionary. He had to tell his friend now about the wonderful Book of Mormon he was reading. He clutched his copy tightly. The beautiful, leather-bound book had been sent to him personally from Salt Lake City by the missionary who had taught his family the gospel.
Patrick’s donkey, Flopps, stood waiting outside the cottage as she did every Sunday. Even the typically blustery Irish weather did not keep her away.
The meeting over, Patrick’s father donned his cap and hurried out with the rest of the family.
Patrick strolled home more slowly beside Flopps. “You know, Flopps, I want to be a missionary,” he said. “How am I going to tell Tom and my other friends about the gospel?”
Flopps only flopped her ears and blinked at Patrick.
“No answers for me, Flopps? Well, you’re a good friend anyways, even if you don’t understand.”
A few days later, Patrick weaved his way through the mooing cattle, bleating sheep, and squawking chickens on the village street. Flopps trotted close at his heels. It was a fair day in the village, and everyone had come from miles around to barter their goods. Patrick wanted to find his friend Tom and tell him about the branch activity that evening. Everyone from the youngest child to the oldest grandfather would gather to dance the traditional Irish jigs and reels. It might be a first step in telling Tom about the gospel, he thought.
Patrick saw Tom at the open fruit market, but his way was suddenly blocked by Michael O’Brien with a huge creel of seaweed strapped to his back. Patrick ducked around Michael and his seaweed only to find that Tom had disappeared. Patrick grimaced and looked back at Michael. Even in school Michael smelled vaguely of seaweed. Most villagers gathered seaweed in the early springtime to fertilize their rocky potato ridges; Michael gathered it year round to dry and to sell to the factories.
A strange feeling came over Patrick, but he pushed it aside. No! He definitely did not want to invite Michael to the branch activity. They weren’t friends. In fact, he didn’t even like Michael. Michael often played pranks on the teachers at school and laughed when they asked him questions.
Stubbornly, Patrick looked straight ahead. “Come on, Flopps, there are other people who deserve to hear the gospel more than Michael.”
But Patrick couldn’t get Michael off his mind. The next morning he hardly remembered hitching Flopps to the cart and going to the bog with his father to cut peat to dry for fuel.
“Ah, my boy, you have been quiet today. Where are your thoughts?” questioned Patrick’s father as they unloaded the last of the peat beside their cottage.
“Father,” Patrick asked slowly, “do you think Heavenly Father sometimes asks us to do things we don’t want to do?”
His father raised his eyebrows. “Why, yes, I think He sometimes does.”
“I think He’s been telling me to be a missionary to Michael O’Brien. But I don’t like Michael. Sometimes he’s mean.”
“Mmm, well now,” mused Patrick’s father, “I suppose if God waited until His children were always good to love them, He would love very few of us on this earth. In fact,” he said winking at Patrick, “He might not love you all the time—I’ve known you to be naughty on occasion. But since we know God loves all His children, I’m sure he wants Michael to have the gospel too.”
“Do you think praying would help me to like Michael?”
“Yes.” His father nodded toward the lane. “But you’d better do it fast.”
Patrick turned around. Trudging up the lane was Michael, on his way to gather seaweed while the tide was down.
Patrick looked at his father for courage.
“You can do it, my boy.”
Patrick swallowed hard and, with a prayer in his heart, called out, “Michael, would you like some help gathering seaweed? I could help you cut it, and Flopps is all hitched up to the Carr, so you wouldn’t have to carry it yourself.”
Patrick and Michael sliced their knives through the strands of wet seaweed draped around the slippery rocks, while Flopps waited patiently for them to carry the dripping bundles to her cart. Hour after hour they crouched over the rocks, unaware that the raindrops splashed ever harder and that the wind drowned out the sound of the sea. Only when Flopps began braying did Patrick notice the wind and chilling rain. The night and the tide were creeping in.
Patrick shouted above the gale, “Michael! I think we’d better stop.” He saw Michael suddenly teeter on a slippery rock and fall. Patrick scrambled to help him.
Michael gasped, “My foot’s caught between these rocks!”
Patrick took hold of a slimy rock and heaved. It didn’t budge. “Can you move your leg at all?”
Michael tried, and his face twisted with pain.
The tide was now lapping around the boy’s legs. What can I do? Patrick agonized. Abruptly, he blurted out, “I think we should pray!”
“Pray?” repeated Michael incredulously through his chattering teeth. The jeering laugh that Patrick disliked so much started out of Michael’s throat, then stopped short. “OK,” he agreed quietly.
Patrick prayed until his fears were gone and he knew exactly what to do. He unhitched Flopps from the cart and coaxed the reluctant donkey out onto the slippery rocks. He tied a rope around the rock and attached it to her harness. At first Flopps didn’t want to pull. She pawed at the water rising around her legs and switched her tail in annoyance.
“Come on, Flopps, you’ve always been my friend,” Patrick urged her.
Flopps pricked up her ears and moved forward. The rock moved too.
All the way back to Patrick’s cottage, Michael kept saying, “I can’t believe it. When you said that prayer, I had such a calm feeling. I just knew everything was going to be all right.”
Patrick’s mother served the two shivering boys steaming bowls of oxtail soup.
“Flopps and I will make sure you get home safely, Michael,” said Patrick’s father.
Michael was hobbling out the door when Patrick noticed his Book of Mormon lying on the table. Impulsively he grabbed it and called after Michael, “Here. Take this. You might want to read it.”
It had been two weeks since Patrick had gathered seaweed with Michael. Patrick fiddled with Flopps’s harness and wondered why he had given his precious Book of Mormon away.
“Hurry up, Patrick,” called his father. “We’ve lots of hay to rake and pike today.”
As Patrick led Flopps along the rock fence toward the hayfield, he saw a woman with a baby coming up the road. Stopping on the other side of the fence, she shyly said, “I’m looking for Patrick McEntree.”
“I’m Patrick.”
“Oh. I wanted to thank you for giving my son that book—the Book of Mormon. Ever since my husband died last year, I have been looking for it. Someone gave me a copy many years ago, and I just laid it aside then. But when my husband died right before the baby came, I had to put most of the work on Michael. My whole world seemed to fall apart. For some reason, I just knew I had to find that book again and read it. Now that I have, I feel much better. Thank you so much.”
Patrick could only stand with his mouth open.
The woman paused and hoisted the baby farther up in her arms. “Could I ask for one more favor? Would you teach me more about your church?”
The next Sunday Patrick went with the two missionaries to Michael O’Brien’s home. When he walked into the cottage, Patrick gulped in astonishment. The room was packed with people! He sat down beside Michael and whispered, “Where did all these people come from?”
“They’re my cousins from Dublin. They come every year at haying time. They want to hear about your church too.”
Patrick watched Michael smile as the missionaries talked about the gospel of Jesus Christ. He was beginning to understand why God loved Michael so much.
Patrick noticed his leather-bound Book of Mormon on a table near the glowing fireplace. I’ll get another leather-bound Book of Mormon. He was glad now that he had given his first one away.

While serving on the planning committee for my stake’s Young Women camp, we decided to make stuffed bears to donate for our camp service project. After getting approval from our camp director, I contacted the local hospital about our idea, gathered all the supplies we needed to make the bears, and cut out 517 11x13 squares from donated material. We ended up making 289 bears for the hospital.
This service project gave the girls at our Young Women camp a chance to serve, and I saw how thrilled and excited they were to be able to do some good for the community. It is so amazing to see the good that service can do. This project showed me that service benefits those who do it as much as those who receive it and helped my testimony to grow. I will never forget this experience.
Cassie T., Texas, USA

One yesterday special to young women is the birthday of our own organization, when President Brigham Young called his older daughters together and counseled them to turn their heads from the extravagant and foolish fashions of the world and to turn their hearts to the ways of the Lord. “Retrench,” he said, “retrench in everything that is bad and worthless, and improve in everything that is good and beautiful” (The Improvement Era, May 1969, p. 1)—a message needed more today than ever before.
This was the birth of the Young Ladies Retrenchment Society, and it started to grow from that moment. In one place, as the association began, the minutes were recorded to say, “A large and respectable congregation was in attendance.” However, a closer look at the minutes showed only two people were present—the newly called president and her secretary. But the secretary defended her entry by saying: “The minutes are correct. The president is very large, and I am certainly respectable.”

Colt Mattice of the Pinetop-Lakeside Fourth Ward, Pinetop-Lakeside Arizona Stake, was thrilled to turn 12 for two reasons—he received the Aaronic Priesthood and became a Boy Scout. Although he has Down’s syndrome, Colt is very aware of the responsibilities he now has.
Shortly after Colt’s 12th birthday, a boy at Colt’s school fell and badly cut his head. At the accident scene, Colt told a teacher, “I need to help the boy. I am a Boy Scout and a priesthood holder.” The teacher convinced Colt that the boy was being well cared for. As she began walking with Colt back to class, she was surprised to see him stop and, with tears running down his face, kneel down and utter a prayer for the hurt boy. The teacher later told a Church leader that she appreciated Colt’s example and could feel God’s presence all around her as she listened to Colt pray.

Just after completing graduate school, I was assigned by my new employer to the Marketing Research Department. There, we were presented with a problem: how to quickly identify a new model of a product that was very similar to the old model. Without the correct classification it was impossible for us to assess the impact of the new model on the marketplace. Our field interviewers were confused even after training. It seemed there was no easy way to get the information we needed.
As a new analyst I was invited to a meeting to discuss possible solutions to this problem, which was costing us tens of thousands of dollars. Many alternative ideas were being proposed. In the middle of the meeting I found myself slipping my wedding ring off my finger and onto the handle of one of the products. I found that the handle of the old standard model would barely fit through the ring but the handle of the new adjustable one would not. From there, it was a simple matter to make cards with various sized holes so the interviewers could easily provide accurate information. Market researchers still refer to this simple solution as the Hales Hole Card.