Gospel Story Finder

I know that many of you desire marriage but lack opportunity. Our hearts ache for so many of you faithful young single adults in that situation. I am familiar with a faithful family in the Church with several sons who were once in that situation. The parents and the sons decided to substantially increase temple worship and to continue to “bother the Lord” on this subject. Rich blessings followed, companions were found, and temple marriages occurred. Do all that you can to qualify for the Lord’s help in this respect. Be patient; trust in the Lord. The blessings will eventually come.

Though he was extremely demanding of himself in working hard to pursue excellence, Heber J. Grant was not one to criticize imperfection in others. One day when he was a young man, a speaker in church made some grammatical errors in his opening remarks. Heber was sure he could get ample material for a class at school, for which he had been assigned to bring examples of grammatical mistakes to be corrected. As he began to write, he listened for errors. But instead, he began to feel the Spirit of the Lord in what the man was saying, and he wept as testimony was born of the divinity of the Savior, the mission of Joseph Smith, and the work of the Lord.
“During the years that have passed since then,” President Grant later said, “I have never been shocked or annoyed by grammatical errors or mispronounced words on the part of those preaching the gospel. I have realized that it was like judging a man by the clothing of his language. From that day to this the one thing above all others that has impressed me has been the Spirit, the inspiration of the living God that an individual had when proclaiming the gospel, and not the language; because after all is said and done there are a great many who have never had the opportunity in the financial battle of life to accumulate the means whereby they could be clothed in an attractive manner. I have endeavored, from that day to this, and have been successful in my endeavor, to judge men and women by the spirit they have.”

On the night of May 22, 2011, amid the sound of blaring sirens, a massive tornado touched down in the heart of Joplin, Missouri, USA, destroying homes and lives. The Joplin First Ward was hit hard by the twister, but right away Bishop Chris Hoffman and the ward council started accounting for ward members.
“We had a response plan in place because we had talked about these preparations in ward council before they happened,” he said. “We also relied on the Spirit to know what to do. Power lines were down. Cell phones didn’t work. We prayed and listened for answers, and they came—they always came. It was gratifying for me as a bishop to hear members say, ‘This is what I’ve done,’ instead of, ‘What do you want me to do?’”

I served my mission in Finland from 1959 to 1962. I loved the service, and I loved my companions. I had wonderful mission presidents. I loved the Finnish people and their language. I loved my mission. To this day, I hold my mission experiences as sacred and wonderful, and I often refer to them.
After this wonderful mission in Finland, I returned home and my bishop called me in for an interview. I loved my bishop, and I expected him to say: “We are so proud of you! You have represented the ward well, and we are sure you represented the Lord well.”
But instead, he looked at me and said, “Well, Dennis, are you converted?” It was a question I did not expect.
While I was thinking about this, the bishop helped me understand why he had asked me that question. He told me that we had wonderful people in our ward, but some of them would not accept a calling or pay their tithing or keep the Sabbath day holy.
My bishop wanted me to answer the question about being converted because that would determine how I lived my life. I told the bishop that I was indeed converted.
This question burned itself into my mind and into my heart. We must do the little things in our lives every day. They not only bring conversion, but they keep us converted.
I’m pleased with the small things in my life. And I’m grateful for my bishop. Every time I see him, I thank him for asking me that question.

News reports on May 25, 2008, predicted that the mile-wide tornado that had wiped out half of Parkersburg, Iowa, USA, would head north. But as Wes Godfrey videotaped the tornado from his home to the east in New Hartford, Iowa, the rotating funnel slowly started to fill up his camcorder’s screen.
Brother Godfrey rushed his 8-months-pregnant wife, Erin, and two children into their tornado shelter and huddled his family together to pray. As Brother Godfrey asked Heavenly Father to spare their lives and the lives of their neighbors, the Spirit touched his heart, and he immediately knew two things: (1) they would be OK, and (2) they were going to get hit.
After the prayer, an eerie silence fell. Moments later, rain and wind exploded against the steel door of the shelter. The commotion lasted only a few seconds before silence returned.
When the family decided it was safe to come out, their home was gone.
“I was devastated,” Sister Godfrey said. “I thought our house would still be there, but at the same time I was glad that we were alive. I realized how fragile life is.”
Winds of the tornado, rated as a low-end EF-5 on the Enhanced Fujita Scale,1 peaked at 205 miles per hour (330 kilometers per hour), completely destroying more than 240 homes and businesses and killing six people in Parkersburg. In New Hartford, the tornado destroyed an additional 30 homes and killed two people within a two-block radius of the Godfreys’ home.

One young woman became much more aware of the wonderful relationship we have to our Heavenly Father when she left home for the first time to go to college. Her father gave her a blessing and expressed his love. Then she writes:
“I clung to his words of love and support as I said a painful good-bye to my family. I felt alone and scared in those uncharted waters. Before I left the apartment that morning, I knelt down to ask for help. Desperately I pleaded with my Heavenly Father for strength to be able to face the college world all alone. I had left my family and friends and everything familiar the day before, and I knew I needed His help.
“My prayers were answered as I reflected on the tender experience with my father the day before. A wave of comfort fell over me as I realized that I had not come to college with the blessing of just my earthly father. I suddenly felt that one day, not so long ago, my Heavenly Father had held me close in His arms. Perhaps He gave me words of advice and encouragement and told me that He believed in me, just as my earthly father had. And at that moment, I knew that I am never without the perfect love and endless support of my Father in Heaven.”

More than forty years ago I was a missionary in the British Isles. That was the time of the British Empire when it could truthfully be said that the sun never set on British soil, and when the British flag waved over a fourth of the world. In those days the peace of the world was peace in the British Empire. Now the British Empire is gone; its parts are independent nations, and the British Empire, symbolized by the lion that roared so loudly, is old and sick and weak.
It is easy for me to believe that the nations shall tremble when the Son of God comes again to claim his kingdom, for when that day arrives, “The Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall He sit upon the throne of glory:
“And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats. (Matt. 25: 31–32.) There will be a judgment not only of the nations but also of the people. “Behold,” said the Lord, “now it is called today until the coming of the Son of man, and verily it is a day of sacrifice, and a day for the tithing of my people; for he that is tithed shall not be burned at his coming.
“For after today cometh the burning … all the proud and they that do wickedly shall be as stubble; and I will burn them up, for I am the Lord of Hosts; and I will not spare any that remain in Babylon.” (D&C 64:23–24). Some years ago one of our brethren spoke of the payment of tithing as “fire insurance”; that statement evoked laughter. Nonetheless, the word of the Lord is clear that those who do not keep the commandments and obey the laws of God shall be burned at the time of his coming. For that shall be a day of judgment and a day of sifting, a day of separating the good from the evil. In my personal opinion no event has occurred in all the history of the earth as dreadful as will be the day of the Second Coming—no event as filled with the destructive forces of nature, as consequential for the nations of the earth, as terrible for the wicked, or as wonderful for the righteous.
It will be a time of great and terrible fears, of cataclysmic upheavals of nature, of weeping and wailing (D&C 19:5), of repentance that comes too late, and of crying out unto the Lord for mercy. But for those who in that judgment are found acceptable, it will be a day for thanksgiving, for the Lord shall come with his angels, and the apostles who were with him in Jerusalem, and those who have been resurrected. Further, the graves of the righteous will be opened and they shall come forth. (See D&C 88:97.) Then will begin the great millennium (D&C 43:30) period of a thousand years when Satan shall be bound and the Lord shall reign over his people. Can you imagine the wonder and the beauty of that era when the adversary shall not have influence? Think of his influence upon you now and reflect on the peace of that time when you will be free from such influence. There will be quiet and goodness where now there is contention and evil.
I know that you are familiar with all of this and with much more of that which is found in the scriptures, but I have felt impressed to repeat it as a reminder to each of us of the faith and the certainty that we have of these coming events. To know when these events will occur would take from us much of the self-discipline needed to daily obey the principles of the gospel.
Most of us seldom think of these millennial events, and perhaps it is well we do not. Certainly there is no point in speculating concerning the day and the hour in which they will occur. Let us instead live each day so that if the Lord does come while we are yet upon the earth we shall be worthy of that change which will occur as in the twinkling of an eye and under which we shall be changed from mortal to immortal beings. And if we should die before he comes, then—if our lives have conformed to his teachings—we shall arise in that resurrection morning and be partakers of the marvelous experiences designed for those who shall live and work with the Savior in that promised Millennium. We need not fear the day of his coming; the purpose of the Church is to provide the incentive and the opportunity for us to conduct our lives in such a way that those who are members of the kingdom of God will become members of the kingdom of heaven when he establishes that kingdom on the earth. May I suggest just two or three things which, if followed, will assist.
The prophet Micah declared: “He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?” (Micah 6:8). There is enough for a long sermon in that one command. Let me talk about one point only: “To love mercy.” As an example, may I read a paragraph from a letter I received from a young woman who is engaged in this kind of activity as president of the Relief Society.
Yesterday [she writes] I spent most of the day picking up welfare groceries and delivering them. One of the two cases I called on was tragic. She is a woman who, years ago, was in a fire and her head was badly injured. For years she has undergone constructive surgery and has a number of pins holding her scalp together. She is divorced, and in order to support herself and her four-year-old girl, she works doing any small job she can find, until she is through surgery and can return to school to complete her training as a dietician. She has no car and relies solely on her bicycle for transportation in this great and busy city. She has ridden that bike all winter, with her little girl on the back, sometimes going as many as 48 kilometers in a day to get to and from a small job.
A week ago she slid on a patch of ice while riding her bicycle, fell, struck her head, and suffered a concussion. She refused to go to the hospital because she had no money to pay medical bills, so she remained in her apartment, suffering from pain until her sister found her and got medical help. Her mother was able to assist her just a little. Her home teacher happened to call and discovered her plight. When I, as the Relief Society president, called her, I discovered she had no food in the house, no medication for her diabetes, and no money. So yesterday I went to deliver the groceries and take her some medication. What an opportunity to serve someone so desperately in need!
Love mercy; obey the commandment of the Lord by imparting your substance for the work of this kingdom. Now let me share with you a testimony spoken by a man once poor in his childhood and now prosperous in his old age. He stood before the congregation and said,
“When I was a boy, on a summer’s day I would lie out in the alfalfa patch and chew on twigs and look up at the sky and wonder where the windows of heaven were that my parents had spoken of. I couldn’t see them in the clouds, and I thought they must be somewhere in the blue sky. I wondered how the windows could be opened so I could get a Boy Scout uniform and a pony and a bicycle. I never got these things, but I have come to see how the windows of heaven are opened as I have received the kindness of good and generous neighbors and friends in this ward in which we live.”
Finally, pertaining to this general subject, let me read a few more words of revelation: a few words of commandment, and a few more words of promise. The commandment: “Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly.” The promise: “Then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God.” (D&C 121:45.) I have thought of that statement a great deal. It has been my privilege to meet a number of presidents of the United States and leaders, rulers, and governors in other lands, and it is a reassuring feeling to be able to stand in the presence of such men with confidence. As I have thought of that, I have also thought how marvelous it will be if someday I might stand with confidence in the presence of God.
“The Holy Ghost shall be thy constant companion,” the Lord continues in this statement, “and thy scepter an unchanging scepter of righteousness and truth; and thy dominion shall be an everlasting dominion, and without compulsory means it shall flow unto thee forever and ever”—including, I should like to add, that time when the Lord comes at the great day of sifting and separation of the righteous from the wicked. My brothers and sisters, of these things I testify, relying on the revealed word of the Lord; and I humbly pray with sincere desire that each of us may so live our lives here and now that we may have neither fear nor worry concerning that great and dreadful day of his coming. God bless us in our search for truth and peace and strength, I humbly pray in the name of Him who shall surely come at a time we know not, but whose coming shall be as certain as the coming of the sun in the morning—in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Seito no michi: There must have been problems involved in the building of the temple because of its unique nature.
Mr. Nakajima: Yes. Because the building differed completely in purpose from general commercial buildings, apartment buildings, office buildings, and so forth, we were unable to proceed according to the construction methods that we have used in the past. In this sense we did have a great deal of difficulty. Assembling the tower and placing the oxen which support the baptismal font caused special headaches. The tower was constructed first in parts that were assembled later; and the oxen statues weighed nearly one ton apiece and had to be lowered carefully down to the basement level with an oil pressure crane. We were also forced to alter the original building plans with regard to structure and design on a few points in order to conform to Japan’s climatic environmental conditions as well as legal standards.

Another couple from northern California served their mission in Bolivia. In one small Indian community the people had to carry water from a spring high on a slope some 1,400 meters away. It was very laborious to carry water so far day after day, and it presented serious sanitation problems.

The missionary couple was assigned to supervise a project to pipe water from the spring. The elder engineered the project and organized the members and nonmembers into work groups. Within weeks the community had dug a trench across the rocky Altiplano soil. Plastic pipe was then placed in the trench, connecting the spring to a simple water faucet in the center of the village—the only faucet in the entire community.

The whole community turned out for the ribbon-cutting ceremony. The nonmembers were very friendly toward the Church and grateful for the opportunity and resources to progress. And the missionary couple, who lost themselves in the work, commented, “This is the highlight of our mission.”

“As [a] man was walking past his neighbor’s house, he noticed in the middle of [the] beautiful lawn a single, enormous, yellow dandelion weed. … Why didn’t his neighbor pull it out? Couldn’t he see it? … This solitary dandelion bothered [the man] beyond description, and he wanted to do something about it. Should he just pluck it out? Or spray it with weed killer? Perhaps if he went under cover of night, he could remove it secretly. These thoughts totally occupied his mind as he walked toward his own home. He entered his house without even glancing at his own front yard—which was blanketed with hundreds of yellow dandelions. … I’m not sure why we are able to diagnose and recommend remedies for other people’s ills so well, while we often have difficulty seeing our own.”

A favorite scripture that keeps David strong in the face of adversity is Doctrine and Covenants 82:10 [D&C 82:10]: “I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say; but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise.” David says, “I know that when I apply this in my life, everything else will fall into place.”

An area in which he has put the Lord first is in Sunday matches. Though football tournaments are often scheduled on Sundays, David decided at the age of 11 that he wouldn’t play on the Sabbath. His coach and manager respected him for this decision and worked around it with him. David relates how the Lord blessed him for his obedience. “In England, matches are often postponed because of bad weather. At the end of one season, all the Sunday matches that had been deferred were played midweek instead. I was able to play in all six games—and scored thirty-two goals.” This earned him the title of top scorer for the season and a reputation as “the boy who never plays on a Sunday.”

1 Sarah and George Benson were excited when they learned that Sarah was to have a baby. They had just been married a few months, and this would be their first child.
2 When Sarah’s labor started on August 4, 1899, both her mother and George’s mother were there with the doctor to offer their help. Sarah was grateful for their support.
3 It wasn’t an easy delivery. The baby boy weighed more than eleven pounds! He wasn’t breathing when he was born, and the doctor didn’t think that the infant would live.
4 But the baby’s grandmothers refused to give up. They each offered a silent prayer while hurrying to get two pans of water, one warm and one cold.
5 They dipped the baby into the cold water, then into the warm water. They did this over and over, praying all the time.
6 Imagine how excited they were when the small baby gulped his first breath of air and let out a cry! Their prayers had been answered.
7 The infant was named Ezra Taft Benson, and he grew up to be a great man. When he was eighty-six years old, he became the thirteenth President of the Church.

Clara and her family had just been baptized. Clara liked getting up on Sunday and going to church together.
One Sunday the Primary president said there would be a Primary program soon. Clara wasn’t sure what a Primary program was. But she knew she wanted to be in it.
“Can you read a scripture and bear your testimony in the Primary program?” her teacher asked.
Clara nodded. She was excited! She wanted to learn as much as she could about the gospel. But she was nervous too. What if she made a mistake?
Clara practiced her part every night. She didn’t know all the words in the scripture yet.
“You’ll do great,” Mama said.
Clara wasn’t so sure. This was her first Primary program. All the other kids had done this before.
“Remember, if you do your best, Heavenly Father will do the rest,” Papa told her.
The night before the program, Clara prayed for help to do her best. She stayed on her knees and thought about her part. She felt good about it.
On Sunday morning Clara prayed that she wouldn’t be scared.
When it was her turn, Clara walked to the front. She messed up one of the words in the scripture. But then she remembered how good she’d felt after her prayer. She smiled and bore her testimony. She talked about how much she loved the Savior.
Clara smiled as she sat back down. She knew Heavenly Father didn’t care that she didn’t say everything perfectly. He cared what was in her heart.

This story took place in Argentina.
Francesco sat on the sofa next to the window. He lined up his toy cars on the windowsill.
“Time to read scriptures,” Mamá said. Francesco and his brothers and sisters gathered in the living room. Mamá opened her Book of Mormon.
Francesco listened as Mamá read the story of Abinadi. He was a prophet who tried to teach the people. But they didn’t listen.
“Wasn’t he brave?” Mamá asked. “He had an important message from Jesus Christ to teach the people. And he didn’t stop trying!”
Francesco nodded. He imagined Abinadi teaching the people.
“Do you remember what will happen next week?” Papá asked.
“Yes!” Francesco sat up tall. “General conference!”
“That’s right,” said Mamá. “At general conference we can listen to our prophet.”
Suddenly they heard a sound from the street outside. “Today I have pumpkins, bell peppers, and tomatoes!” a loud voice called out.
Francesco knew that voice! It was Ramón, the fruit and vegetable seller. Every day he drove his truck down the street, telling everyone what fruits and vegetables he had to sell. He used a loudspeaker so people could hear him from inside their houses. Then they could go outside to buy food.
“I also have apples and tasty bananas!” Ramón’s voice called out.
That gave Francesco an idea. “Mamá! Prophets are like loudspeakers!”
“What do you mean?” his sister asked.
“Jesus uses the prophet to share His words, just like Ramón uses the loudspeaker. That way everyone in the world can hear Him!” Francesco smiled big.
Days passed, and soon it was time for general conference. Papá set up a projector so they could watch conference on the wall. It was kind of like a movie theater!
Mamá made chocolate chip cookies to eat while they watched. They were all excited when it was the prophet’s turn to speak.
“Get on the covenant path and stay there,” President Nelson said.*
“I want to do that!” said Francesco. “But how?”
“You’re already doing it.” Papá smiled. “You followed Jesus Christ by being baptized. And now you can stay on the covenant path by trying to follow Him every day.”
Francesco grinned. He wanted to follow Jesus Christ. And he could do that by following the prophet!
How can you follow the prophet?
Illustration by Carolina Farías

David ran down the sandy path holding the small sand grouse carefully in his hands. “Bird,” he whispered, “it’s all right. I’ll take care of you.”
The boy had found the sand grouse on the desert. Its wing was broken and the feathers fanned out when he let go of it, so he held it close to his chest with both hands.
David lived alone in a cave under the edge of a rock. Before he was old enough to remember him, his father had left. David often thought about his father, imagining him as a tall, strong man who would protect his son from the wolves, bring him food and firewood, and hold him close in the night when it was dark and when frightening sounds came from outside the cave.
David tried not to think about his mother. She hadn’t been gone as long, and her memory was still too close to his heart to remember without pain.
It was getting dark, and the tall palms stood out black against the red desert sky. David, alone with the sand grouse, could feel its tiny heart beating rapidly against his hands. He scraped up some cold ashes and bits of straw into a pillow on which to lay the hurt bird so that the softness came up and around and held its wing.
“Lie still now, bird,” he said. “I’ll fix your wing for you.”
David found a stick and some leather strips he’d been saving in a pouch. Every time he found a piece of wool or a strip of leather blowing on the desert, he’d carefully save it and tuck it into his pouch. Sometimes these bits and pieces were useful in unexpected ways.
As he wrapped a tiny piece of leather around the stick and the bird’s wing, he thought, Maybe this sand grouse can be mine, and I can be his. We can belong to each other.
After David finished wrapping the bird’s wing, he dropped some water into its open mouth. Its helpless eyes gazed at the boy as he worked.
Gently David put the bird down onto the soft straw pillow. He tied one end of a leather thong around the bird’s leg and the other end to his own wrist. Now, he thought, if it flutters about in the night or tries to fly, I can keep it from hurting itself.
David lay down on the dirt floor of the cave, curled up on his side so that he could see the bird. The sand grouse stared at him. David smiled and said, “Good night. I love you.”
During the night David awoke to a chattering noise. At first he couldn’t tell what it was. Then the string on his wrist tugged and pulled. The bird was silhouetted against the mouth of the cave, and there looked to be hundreds of birds outside. They were perching on the cactus, flying and darting about, and walking in the sand. David had never seen so many birds at once! The thong on his wrist tightened as his bird limped along, trying to reach the others.
The great flock of birds chattered and teased. They seemed to say, “Come along. Hurry and come with us.”
Walking over to the mouth of the cave, David called, “Sand grouse, you can’t go. You can’t fly yet.” Then the boy shivered at the cold and dampness in the cave. Every bird on the desert must be here! he thought. What does it mean?
David held the sand grouse close as he stepped out into the starlit night. At first all he could see were the birds circling and swooping. Then he saw a great light in the sky that was attracting the birds, and David knew where they were going. Suddenly he wanted to go with them.
David followed the birds over rocks and hills, down gullies and crevices, and on over the wind-whipped sand. Then their chattering stopped and all David could hear was the sound of his own feet and the beating, whirring wings.
David began to have a warm feeling inside that seemed to come from the lighted sky. He was hurrying to keep the birds in sight when, suddenly, he bumped into something and stopped.
“Say, there,” came a man’s deep voice. “What’s this?”
“Oh, sir, I’m sorry,” David said, looking up at the tall, smiling man before him. He wore a shepherd’s robe and held a wooden staff. A curly, dark beard went up close to the man’s kind eyes, and he was carrying a lamb.
“That’s all right, boy,” the shepherd said. “What’s that you have there? A sand grouse, is it?”
“Yes, sir, I found it on the ground with its wing broken. After I bound the wing with a thong, the bird’s friends came and wanted it to go with them. But I don’t know why we’re following them.”
“Come, walk with me,” the shepherd invited the boy. “I’ll tell you about this night.”
So David and the shepherd walked together on the desert under the bright light of that holy night, led by the birds. The shepherd told David he’d been watching the sheep when an angel came.
“An angel?” David asked in wonderment.
“Yes, an angel, who told us that a king had been born in the city of David.”
“A king?” David questioned, even more astonished.
“A king of all the world,” the shepherd replied. “I’m taking this lamb as a present for that kingly Baby.”
“A baby king,” David said, still hardly believing. “I’d like to give him something, too, but I have nothing to give.”
“That’s what I thought, but I did have this lamb,” said the shepherd.
“And I have only —” David stopped. Then he continued in a quieter voice. “I have only this sand grouse. It belongs to me and I belong to him.”
David thought about the sand grouse as he and the shepherd walked together until they came to a stable in the little town.
“The King wouldn’t be born here in a stable,” David said, “with hay all around Him and animals close by.”
“Yes,” the shepherd said, “the angel told us we would find Him in a manger.”
The great flock of birds that had been flying ahead of David and the shepherd settled in the trees near the stable.
They found the Babe lying in a bed of hay. As the shepherd stepped forward and put the lamb down beside Him, the mother smiled. Holding his friend, the sand grouse, David felt himself pulled forward by her smile.
The bird’s eyes had become black and shiny. David untied the thong from its wing. The sand grouse hopped a little, ruffled up its feathers, and moved both wings without any trouble. David untied the thong from his wrist and laid it aside.
The bird fluttered closer to the Baby and stood there. Its eyes shone, and it turned its head from side to side, looking first at the boy and then at the sleeping child.
“Good-bye, sand grouse,” David said. “Good-bye, my friend.”
He turned to where the shepherd was waiting for him at the edge of the heavenly light. As they went out into the dark streets of the city together, the shepherd put his hand gently on David’s shoulder. “It’s wonderful to think we have seen the King of the world,” he said.
“Yes,” David answered, although he felt happy and sad at the same time. When he thought of the Baby, a happiness ran through him, but when he thought of being all alone again, there was a hollow, hurting ache in his chest.
The shepherd said, “Your sand grouse seemed to feel as though it belonged there. Its wing was fine, and it looked happy.”
“I think it was proud to be standing next to the baby King,” David said, “and I’m glad. But it was the only thing I had of my own, and now I’m alone again.”
“Then come with me,” the shepherd suggested. “I’m alone, too, except for my sheep.”
David could hardly believe his ears. “You mean, I could go with you? Live with you?”
“And belong to me. Yes, and I would belong to you, David,” the shepherd said. “Do you need to go back to the cave for anything?”
“All I had was the sand grouse and I gave that to the King,” David answered. He was quiet for a moment. Then looking up into the kind eyes of the shepherd, he said, “And it was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

I was nervous and insecure as I walked to my new classroom with 30 other girls who did not know each other. I would be attending school with them in a Catholic private school for the next five years. First thing, our teacher asked if everybody had been christened in the Catholic Church. As I was the only one to say no, everybody’s eyes were directed at me.
That was my first day in a new school in Salzburg, Austria, a school managed by nuns. I quickly became used to the crucifixes hanging in each classroom, the morning devotionals, and the nuns. However, it was unusual for my schoolmates to have a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints with them. They were curious to learn what I believed. I was not able to answer all their questions precisely. I wondered how I could receive permission to invite the missionaries.
This opportunity finally presented itself. We did not have a native speaker in our English class one year. I asked my classmates if it was a good idea to invite the missionaries. Then I asked the missionaries if they were allowed to come to schools. And finally I asked my English professor if they could come. I passed out a list on which everyone wrote what she would like the missionaries to talk about. I was amazed to see that the majority wanted to know why they had decided to go on missions, what kind of work they were doing, and how our Church differed from other churches.
Elder Allen and Elder Jones came to class and took most of the class period talking about the Church. It was awesome! After they left, I was bombarded with even more questions.
That year I was no longer the only member of the Church in my school. Because of two of my Latter-day Saint friends who began attending the school, the song “A Child’s Prayer” (Children’s Songbook, 12–13) is now part of the music teacher’s repertoire.
It was not as difficult as I expected to talk about the gospel of Jesus Christ. I am so grateful to Heavenly Father for His Son, Jesus Christ, and for His wonderful gospel. I am also grateful for every opportunity to share my testimony by the Holy Spirit.

I belong to a family of five, and we attend church every Sunday, all except my dad. He is not a member of the Church, and this makes me sad. He is a very good dad and sometimes comes to parties or trips organized by the ward. I would like it if he always came.
My mom taught me in Primary that Heavenly Father listens to our prayers and wants to help us. So I said a prayer that He would help my dad understand how much the gospel means for our family.
On Saturday I was about to watch TV when something happened. My dad came and said there were better things I could be doing instead of sitting in front of the TV. “For example,” he said, “what would you think if I read you a nice story from the Liahona?”
So he sat down with me and my two little brothers and read to us. I don’t know how my dad knew those stories were in the Liahona. But I do know that Heavenly Father had listened to my prayers and answered, touching my dad’s heart so he read something in the Church magazine.
I thank my Heavenly Father because He listens to my prayers.

It was almost Christmas, and Troy’s Pet Shop was decorated with fancy red bows for the holiday. A tiny, yellow ball of fur was curled up in a corner of the big front window. It was a kitten only eight weeks old.
The other kittens in the big front window were much prettier. The yellow kitten’s eyes were the same color as its fur, and it didn’t have a tail. Manx cats don’t have tails, but this kitten was not a Manx. It was supposed to have a tail. The kitten, however, didn’t seem to know that she was different from other cats.
“Look at that cute white kitten, Mommy,” said a little girl, pointing to the cat next to the yellow one. “I want that one for Christmas.”
“All right, dear,” said her mother.
The white kitten contentedly licked its paws.
“I want that black cat,” said a little boy soon after. His father picked up the handsome black cat and paid Mr. Troy for it.
The calico cat, most of the puppies, the goldfish, and the birds were all chosen for pets. Even the hamsters, gerbils, and guinea pigs were bought and carried out by their new owners—but not the little yellow kitten.
“Look at that funny-looking cat,” cried one little boy. “Where’s its tail?”
Mr. Troy answered, “She doesn’t have one, but she’s a very nice cat.”
“What good is a cat without a tail?” retorted the little boy. “I want that gray kitten, Daddy, the one with the fluffy tail.”
Later the yellow kitten heard a noise and looked up. Mr. Troy was talking to her: “If you aren’t sold in the next few days, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t keep feeding a cat that isn’t sellable. This is a business, you know.” He shook his head sadly and walked away.
The yellow kitten liked Mr. Troy. He fed her and played nice music with words like angels, peace, good will, jingle bells, joy, sleigh rides, and Christmas. The kitten didn’t know what the words meant, but the music made her feel happy.
After Mr. Troy locked the pet shop door and started to clean up for the night, he heard a whimper coming from the front of the store. A little black puppy was snuffling around forlornly in his cage. Before the shop owner could decide what to do, the little yellow kitten sat next to the puppy’s cage and started to purr. And when the puppy curled up next to her, the kitten licked him through the bars of the cage. The puppy was soon asleep.
Relieved, because he wanted all his animals to be happy, Mr. Troy went home.
Before the shop opened the next day, a whole new shipment of puppies and kittens was delivered. Mr. Troy told the delivery man, “Business has been so good that I don’t think I’ll have any trouble selling them all before Christmas.”
Mr. Troy put the new kittens into the front window with the little yellow kitten. They ran round and round, making pitiful sounds because they were afraid. The yellow kitten went to each one and licked it on the nose. Soon the new kittens felt safe and began giving themselves baths. They purred in time to the Christmas music.
“Well, isn’t that something!” exclaimed Mr. Troy, who had been watching them. “I’ve never seen anything like that.” Just then his attention went to a small puppy that was yelping frantically. A much larger puppy was growling at it.
“Here, now. None of that,” said Mr. Troy. He took the small puppy out of the pen. The large puppy gave a final growl and lay down.
But the small puppy couldn’t stop shaking and whimpering, despite all that Mr. Troy tried to do. “I’m a busy man,” the shop owner explained placatingly, “and we’re opening soon. I can’t stand here holding you all day. What am I going to do?”
He looked around and saw the tiny, yellow kitten. As he looked at the puppy, then back at the kitten, he thought, Well, it’s worth a try, and he put the puppy right next to the little yellow kitten. In no time at all the two were playing contentedly with each other. Mr. Troy shook his head in wonder. “I think that that cat has something. She certainly calms the animals down.”
That day was the busiest day of the holiday season for Mr. Troy. People were in and out all day. The small puppy went to a kind old man. In fact, most of the new kittens and puppies were sold.
It was a busy day for the little yellow kitten, too, because whenever an animal became nervous or excited—and many of them did with all the hustle and bustle in the store—Mr. Troy put it in the front window with the yellow kitten. The little kitten licked and purred and played gently with the upset animal until it relaxed.
Mr. Troy was very tired but very happy as he closed up for the night and went home.
The next day was almost as busy for Mr. Troy and the little yellow kitten. Just before closing, the shop owner went to the front window and looked at the yellow kitten. “Well, tonight is Christmas Eve. You haven’t been sold, and I don’t think you ever will be. But it doesn’t matter. You’re something special. Tail or no tail, pretty or not, you are an exceptional cat. You bring peace to the other animals just as Christmas brings peace. I think I’ll call you my Christmas kitten.”
Suddenly the door opened. A man and his son ran in. “Are we too late?” the boy asked anxiously. “We need a kitten for my sister for tomorrow.” Looking in the front window, he added, “Let’s take that one with no tail. It’s different. OK, Dad?”
“It’s OK with me, Son. You’re the one who’s giving the present.”
Mr. Troy shook his head. “I’m sorry, but that one is not for sale. You may choose any of the others, though. You see, I need that yellow cat. You might say that she works for me.” He patted the yellow kitten on the head adding, “And after all, I am running a business.”

First: I will never forget the dream I had about two years ago, about my paternal great-uncle Steven. In that dream, I traveled to my hometown and wanted to come back. I got to the market square, where I wanted to get a car back to my base. Then I saw a car and entered it. When we moved, I looked through the car window, and I saw Uncle Steven running after the car and stopping it. When the car stopped, he entered at the back, where I sat and started pointing at my face and said, “What did I do to you? Why do you not want to help me the way you are helping others?”
When I woke up, I was confused, so I narrated the dream to one of my sons. He told me that the dream I had was about doing temple work for our ancestors. I told him that I didn’t know how I would do this one because I don’t know much about Uncle Steven and I don’t know how I can trust his lineage. We are not from the same village.
My son told me to pray to our Heavenly Father for direction on what to do. So I prayed. One day our most senior brother, my first cousin Emeka, who wasn’t a Christian (he was a traditional man), called me to discuss something. We talked on the phone, and when the discussion was finished, I seized the opportunity to ask him about our Uncle Steven. He acknowledged he knew things about him, and he sent the information that he had to me. I kept on asking him about many people. He sent me information he had for about 15 people. I handed that information to my son to be doing temple work for them.

In home evening we learned about how we can use our talents to bless others and help them feel God’s love. We read about Jesus teaching the people that they should share their light instead of hiding it. Then we talked about ways we could share our light through our talents.
Our mom suggested we play our instruments for people at a retirement home near us. At first, we were excited to play. But when we got to the retirement home, we felt nervous. We felt even more scared as we walked into the room where we were going to perform.
But when we started playing, we felt calm. The people tapped their feet and sang along to our songs. We had fun playing, and we felt happy seeing the smiles on their faces.
Since then, we’ve played at other retirement homes, and we want to keep doing it. Learning to play a musical instrument takes a lot of time and hard work, but we know Heavenly Father is proud of us for developing our talents and sharing them with others.
Illustration by Tania Rex